When he woke the next morning, it took Sirius a moment to remember he wasn't at home. He pushed open his hangings slowly, squinting at the bright light, and checked the time. It was half past six, and, despite the early time, the boy who slept in the bed beside the door had already woken and gone. His hangings were open, the bed neatly made, pyjamas folded on the pillow. Sirius dressed quickly, then glanced at his own rumpled bed. He didn't really know how to make beds, as the house elves had always done it at home, and wondered why the boy had done it when there were house elves at Hogwarts too. Slightly self consciously, he straightened the pillows and duvet, then took the letter from his trunk and went to post it.

When he came back, the other boys were awake.

"Morning," Sirius said, and Peter gave him a quick, nervous nod. He was already dressed, tying the laces on his shiny new school shoes. Though class was starting in twenty minutes, James was still in his pyjamas, blinking sleepily.

"Morning, mate," he yawned, then groped around on his beside table before stopping. "Merlin, lost my glasses yesterday, didn't I? Mum'll kill me."

Sirius was silent as his new friend disappeared off to the bathroom. He wondered whether James' father would cane him badly, and shivered. His stomach was sick after sending the letter to his parents, and now it squeezed horribly.

He thought about the letter all day. He wasn't sure how long it would take a Hogwarts owl to deliver, but as he looked at the clock halfway through their second class, History of Magic, he thought it must have been delivered by now, and felt ill.

The fact that their teacher was an elderly ghost did nothing to distract him from his predicament. Though he was lecturing on the history of Hogwarts, something Sirius was interested in, Professor Binns droned on and on, and Sirius felt his attention slipping. Half of the class was yawning, and James, always the clown, was pretending to snore. His parents had already sent his spare pair of glasses, and they slipped down his nose. The girls beside him erupted in giggles, all except for one – the red haired mudblood from the train. She sat glaring at James, doing her best to focus. Beside her sat a boy Sirius didn't recognise, but saw from his House badge that he was Gryffindor, which meant that he was the fourth boy in their dormitory. He was a pale boy, with sharp features and brown hair, and he too, looked irritated by James' display. When Professor Binns stilled in his ramble at last to ask a question, most of the class didn't notice. The pale boy's hand shot into the air.

"Yes?"

"The castle was built in the tenth century, sir. It was Rowena Ravenclaw who had the first vision of the school."

"Excellent," Binns sounded pleased. "Ten points for Gryffindor."

Sirius felt vaguely irritated. He had known that too, it wasn't anything special. The entire history of Hogwarts had been drilled into him since he was a small child.

He looked at James, who raised his eyebrows.

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By the time lunch came, Sirius' insides felt knotted in a ball. He could barely touch his shepherd's pie, though James ate his with gusto. Peter was picking carefully at his food, reminding Sirius of the mouse his brother used to keep. The other boy from their dormitory sat beside them without a word, bolted down his lunch, and then left again.

"Someone's in a hurry," James stared after him. "Bit strange, isn't he? What'd McGonagall call him again?"

"Lupin," one of the older girls, a prefect, offered. "He's won heaps of points for us already."

Sirius was barely listening, pushing his food around his plate. Further up the Slytherin table, he spied Narcissa – but his cousin refused to meet his gaze. Andromeda might have been sympathetic, but she was nowhere to be seen. He felt even more alone than before and looked down at his food, just as the Great Hall broke into conversation.

"What is it?" James craned his neck to see over the crowd.

The prefect winced. "Some poor sod's got a Howler."

Sirius' neck snapped up. Sure enough, a snowy white barn owl was soaring above the student's heads, red envelope clutched tightly in its beak. Sirius recognised it straight away. It was his father's owl. The entire Hall watched as the owl landed beside Sirius' plate, dropped the envelope, and nipped his finger sharply as if scolding him. Sirius stared in horror as the crimson envelope began to smoke, then smoulder. He had never had a Howler before, and wasn't sure how they worked – gingerly, he poked the envelope. With a bang, it rose into the air in front of him. His father's voice, magically magnified for the entire student body to hear, boomed throughout the hall. He sounded apoplectic with rage. 

"SHAME ON THE FAMILY, DISHONOUR ON THE NAME OF BLACK, JUST LIKE A COMMON MUDBLOOD! NOT FIT TO CARRY THE FAMILY NAME –"

Sirius' eyes prickled with tears, his face burning red as everybody heard his father's rant. It could only have been a few seconds long, but seemed to last forever. With a final spitting insult, the letter exploded. In the deafening silence, slivers of the envelope rained down on him like red confetti.

Around him, he began to hear whispering. James looked at him, his face chalk white, and it was the final straw. With a choked sob, Sirius ran from the table and left the Great Hall, heading for anywhere but there.