Heir to the House of Black

Sorting

Tim had to admit, this was cool.

He believed in rational thought, in science, but admittedly while he was speculative of magic, he had seen Zatanna on TV enough to know it was real, he just didn't quite understand it.

His mother had told him enough to know what to expect in advance, kind of, that there would be a ceremony at the beginning of the year, and he will be sorted into Gryffindor, like his father, Slytherin, like most of father's family had been for generations, Ravenclaw, which suited his natural aptitude for learning and knowledge, or Hufflepuff, like his mother had been when she attended Hogwarts.

Plus, it had said on his acceptance letter that it would Timothy Leonis Phoenix Black attending Hogwarts not Timothy Jackson Drake.

And as the only remaining true Heir that wasn't either dead, disowned, or in prison, he was the only Black left, well kind of, the only one who went by Black anyway.

Tim honestly wasn't too afraid to be put in any of the houses. Well, maybe Slytherin, but that's it.

He supposed if he was one for tradition he was hoping for Slytherin. But Tim always thought tradition was peer pressure from a bunch of dead people.

As Professor McGonagall finished up her speech to all of the first years the massive mahogany doors opened and the first thing Tim saw was the hundreds of students sitting on the four long tables that ran down the entire lengths of the Great Hall.

So yes, Tim was awestruck by the sheer coolness of it all.

As Tim looked up he saw the stars in the sky, which couldn't be possible, but then he remembered that the roof was in fact enchanted, which was reminded by him by the girl he sat in a compartment with on the way to Hogwarts who had long bushy brown hair, who seemed to be an encyclopedia for magic, which would probably be useful to know in case he ever needed help with homework or his studies in the future.

As Tim was quite frankly gawking at the Great Hall, he was shoved forward by a boy with a sneer and bleach blonde hair," Out of they way you filthy little mudblood."

Tim frowned in response because mudblood was a derogatory term used by purebloods who frowned on the inclusion of muggles learning magic, but Tim for all intents and purposes wasn't a mudblood, but rather a pureblood, as his father was definitely a pureblood otherwise he would have been disowned at a young age, and both his mothers parents were purebloods from America, hence where he was born and raised.

His mother had told him, when he was young, that his father had been sent to a wizarding prison called Azkaban where no man nor woman had ever escaped, and to prevent Death Eaters or wizards and witches who sought out to kill his only heir, as it was widely known that the Potter's and the Black's had a child each around the same time, his mother had hid them in Gotham, a place so dark that no-one would think that Sirius Black's and therefore the only sole heir to the House of Black would seek refuge there, and to help further his mother, Janet, had married a muggle man who was cruel, but it kept her son safe from the wizarding world, and over the years rumors of Sirius Black's child had dwindled as everyone thought he or she was to be dead.

Tim would watch out for that blonde boy, Draco Malfoy, he thought he had said earlier after a confrontation with Harry, and his goons followed after him.

As the first years made it to the front of the Great Hall, Professor McGonagall started," When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted." She said sternly, Tim kind of respected that.

"Abbott, Hannah." After a short few seconds the old hat came to life and started to speak before sorting the blonde haired girl into," HUFFLEPUFF." And their were cheers from the table where there were students in black robes with yellow ties and insignias.