From the Files of Sirius Black: The Reflecting Pool
By Alicia78
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or plot elements taken from Harry Potter.
When applying for a job or filling out any type of CV, I am often asked who influenced me most in my life. I am then faced with a conundrum. To be honest or to sod it and make up some shit? Honestly, I usually opt for the latter-it tends to raise less questions about by integrity as a person. Not that integrity is necessarily a quality I possess, but the world today is all about bullshitting your way to a position of power, isn't it?
You see, while most people seek influence from their parents, their relatives, or some political figure-but I never did. If I had been influenced by any relative of mine I would most likely have grown up to be some Slytherin arsehole. As for being influenced by some political figure, I believe that's complete bollocks. In my experience, most political figures turn out to be scandalous cheats and liars.
No, my influence wasn't widely known around England. However, he was a legend throughout the halls of Hogwarts. In the broader scheme of things, I'm not quite sure his influence on me would be looked upon by an objective, third-party outsider having nothing to do with the situation as particularly beneficial to my growth. You see, my idol was the campus bookie, Marcus Fletcher.
Now, Fletcher, or "Fletch" as he was widely known, wasn't your average bookie. Not only did he take bets on the major Quidditch matches both inside and outside of Hogwarts, but he also took bets on how long major couples would stay together, how long Filch's list of banned items would be at the start of term, how many times Trelawney would predict a student's death throughout the year, who the new members of the "Slug Club" would be and so on and so forth.
When I entered Hogwarts in my first year, Fletch was in his fifth year and I immediately idolized him. He, in fact, was the reason I yearned to be in Gryffindor, not Slytherin all my relatives had been. You see, James and I shared a compartment with him on our first trip to Hogwarts in our first year.
Before Fletch arrived, James and I were both sitting at either ends of our shared compartment starring off in separate directions. James knew who I was and I knew who James was-more importantly, both of us knew that our parents would rather us not converse. That was when Fletch came.
"Hey there!" he said cheerfully, swinging our compartment door open, "You lot must be new then?"
"Was it that obvious?" I asked gloomily. I was kind of hoping just to blend into the crowd here, as I had throughout my entire life at that point.
"Nah…I just know everyone here. I can spot a new face from a mile away," he explained. "But don't worry, if you don't want anyone to know, your secret's safe with me."
I didn't respond. After another couple seconds of sitting in silence Fletch spoke up again.
"Man the awkward silence is driving me bonkers. I'm sensing some hostility here, do you chaps know each other then?"
"No!" both James and I said at the same time.
"Errr…alright then. I'm Marcus by the way. Marcus Fletcher-but everyone calls me 'Fletch.' Don't know why really, just something that caught on in my third year."
"My cousin Gideon told me about you!" James exclaimed. "Said the only reason he ever bothered going back for the start of term was because you always had something good up your sleeve at the start of term."
"Blimey! You're Gideon and Fabian Prewitt's cousin?" Fletch asked.
James nodded eagerly.
"Those two have got enormous potential, they have."
"Fabian told me Molly fancied you," James said.
"Molly Prewett? Fancy me? That's complete cobblers!" he said, laughing.
"Why?" I asked, finally speaking up.
"She's a prefect, isn't she?" he explained, "Sorry for you're cousin, mate, but I'd never be caught dead dating a prefect. And, quite honestly, I doubt she'd ever be seen dating me. So what are your names then?"
"I'm James Potter," James said proudly.
"I'm Sirius," I replied plainly.
"Errr...do you have a surname, Sirius?" Fletch asked.
James stared at me intently, and for the first time in my life, I was ashamed of my family. In my previous experience the name "Black" had always come equipped with dignity and respect. However, I doubted that it would amongst this lot.
"Black," I muttered quietly.
"Sorry, I didn't quite catch that," Fletch said, "Black, did you say it was?"
I nodded slowly.
"You're not by chance related to Bellatrix or Narcissa Black, eh?"
Judging by the look of disgust on his face, I wagered he didn't like my relations much. Come to think of it, I didn't really either. Every time I came in contact with my cousins, they always treated me with an air of superiority, which I hated. They were also always stuffy and they usually stared down their long noses at people.
I decided the best way to reply was "Unfortunately."
"I take it you're not all that impressed with your family then?" he asked.
"Not nearly as impressed as they are with themselves," I replied, not really knowing what I was saying. However, I immediately knew them to be true.
"Yeah, I picked that up I bit," I agreed. "Is the rest of your family like that too?"
I considered for a moment before replying, "Every last one of them."
"I'm sorry mate," he replied. "That's gotta be tough."
"S'alright, I'm used to it by now," I said shrugging. "So, what house are you in."
"I'm in Gryffindor, which is, by far, the best," he replied conclusively. "What house do you lot want to be in?"
"Gryffindor," James replied defiantly.
"What about you, Sirius?" Fletch asked, turning to me once again.
"Well, mum will disown me if I'm not in Slytherin."
"Damn, that's tough, lad. But sooner or later you have to choose between pleasing your family and being yourself," he replied earnestly.
"How do you mean?" I asked.
"If you spend your entire life trying to be who others want you to be, you'll go bonkers. In my own experience, if you're true to yourself, you'll be much happier, believe me," he explained. "You don't think people have challenged me once or twice? I mean, damn, I'm the campus bookie and pull more pranks in a year than were pulled in the school's entire history before I came here for Christ's sakes. Teachers have threatened to expel me, some people hate me, and I've embarrassed my parents so many times, I've lost track. But, I'm perfectly happy with the person I am, and that's good enough for me."
"But you're the most popular guy in school, of course you're happy!" James exclaimed.
Fletch shrugged, "In my experience, if you're honest about who you are, others tend to like you more for it. But if you'll excuse me, lads, I've got places to go and people to see."
With that, he left.
.*.*.*.
As I crossed the lake with the other first years, I gazed into the lake at my reflection. James was in the back of the boat, talking animatedly to the two girls sharing the boat with us. However, to me they were inaudible. When I saw my reflection stare back at me, I saw my mother's eyes and my father's nose. I was no doubt a result of their upbringing, and Slytherin was probably the right place for me to be. I'd just wait and see where I was sorted.
I was startled when the boats came to a jolting halt when we reached the school, and I looked up to see a grand sight indeed. We travelled as a pack inside, occasionally trotting on the hems of one another's robes, in through the giant oak front doors, in to the entrance hall and then into the Great Hall. We walked in-between two of the four long picnic tables, staring up at the star-covered sky-like ceiling in awe.
At the front of the room was a stage with a fifth table on it, where the teachers sat. Situated front and centre on the stage was a stool with a hat sitting on it. The rest of the room was staring intently at this hat, as if they were waiting for it to explode, so I followed suit. At long last, the hat moved, and did the last thing I ever expected it to do. It sang.
The song was about the history of the school-which I had heard about a million times before. Although, I suspected that the hat's version of the school's history was slightly less biased than the one my parent's often told me. Then the hat explained that we were to try it on in order to discover which house we would be sorted into. It seemed odd to me that this piece of cloth would be deciding our future for the next seven years.
Professor McGonagall then stood up and started reading the names of the first years off the scroll she held in her hands. By the time she called my name it stood at Ravenclaw: 4, Hufflepuff: 1, Slytherin: 1, and Gryffindor: 0.
As I walked up toward the stool, it seemed almost surreal to me. Before putting the hat on my head, I turned to see Fletch smile and wink at me. I didn't return the favour though. I was sure that when I was sorted into Slytherin, which I undoubtedly would be, he would never speak to me again.
Hmmm… A voice said to me coming from my head, I feel a need to please your family and live up to their expectations. That takes a certain amount of ambition. We better put you in SLYTH-
"WAIT!" I heard myself shout out loud.
What? The voice was back inside my head again, would you rather be in another house?
Yes. I thought hard. I want to be in Gryffindor. Please put me in Gryffindor. Gryffindor, not Slytherin.
You sure about that? The hat asked.
Yes. Positive.
Alright then, GRYFFINDOR!
The crowd erupted and my face broke out into my first true smile in years. I was so happy I could hardly stand up from elation. As I walked over to the Gryffindor table, I ignored the glares darting into the back of my head from the Slytherin table and focused, instead on the fact that Fletch was standing up cheering and making room for me to sit next to him.
"Well done mate," he exclaimed, patting me on my back while I sat next to him. "I knew you had it in you."
.*.*.*.
I went back to the lake looked at my reflection the next day, and saw a very different person than I had the previous night-one much different than the rest of my family. For, although my outer appearance still much resembled them, my inner looks now shown more brightly than my outer ones. The more I pondered life the less sense it seemed to make. Why were there so many politics involved in the inner-workings of my twisted family? Why was I so different than the rest of my family? Why was I forced to conform to their standards? Why were people so different, period? However, the previous day, Marcus Fletcher, who everyone described as a "bad egg", had a lasting, positive effect on my life. I can therefore say that he was my greatest influence in life.
Until the next,
Sirius Black
A/N: I was in a good mood after the Seahawks won tonight, so I thought I'd write this. I want to know what you guys think of Fletch. Would you be interested in him appearing in later essays? I thought I'd put this in here to show what helped shape Sirius' character. I figure, hey, growing up in that house, he couldn't have been happy and go-lucky his entire life.