“My parents are going to kill me.. my parents are going to kill me.. my parents are going to kill me..” chanted James Potter as he pushed his breakfast around on his plate.
“So, James, how do you think you're parents are going to react?” joked Sirius Black as he nudged him.
James stopped and glared at Sirius, “Look I know it may not be a big deal for you Black but I'm a Potter. Potters have been..”
Sirius interrupted, a little annoyed with him, “Not a big deal? Fat lot you know. My parents are going to be overjoyed. I'm never going to hear the end of it now. Carrying on the traditions of the 'Noble House of Black' and all that rot. They'll be on me twice as hard to 'shape up and act like a Black. Carrying on with that Potter boy, filthy blood traitor that he is'.. Ha, I could only wish I had your parents to deal with. Hey, ain't that your owl?”
James started choking on the juice he had just sipped while Sirius laughed at him. With a shaking hand he untied the letter his owl held out to him. Sirius looked over his shoulder as he opened it.
Dear son,
Thank you for writing to us so promptly about your Sorting. While it was surprising, these things have to be expected from time to time. Despite what we like to believe, not all Potters have been Gryffindors down to the Founding. If you're House was preordained based on you're blood then there would be no need for a Sorting. That being said, I expect you to continue to act in a manner befitting a Potter no matter which House you are in. Being a Slytherin is a reflection on who you are, but it does not determine who you are. I know you will continue to make me and your mother proud. Never forget that we love you son and nothing can change that.
Speaking of pride, I was not so proud as I read the second part of your letter. There is nothing anyone can do to change the results of a Sorting, least of all me, and even if there were I would not have used them. That is not the sort of behavior I expect from you son and we will have a talk about this when you come home. Remember that you are a Potter and what that name stands for and you will have nothing to worry about over the next seven years.
You're mother sends her love, and is even now making up a package to send to you and 'that poor dear Sirius Black'. You tell that pup that I know him better than that and that he better stay out of trouble. You two keep an eye on each other, since he's probably reading this over your shoulder right now. Tell him he's invited over for Christmas if that harridan let's him out of her sight. Don't tell your mother I said that.
Make sure you write soon and tell us about your classes. You can floo us at anytime.
Love
Harold Potter
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(Posted Tue, 02 Mar 2004 19:48)
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