Sirius Orion Lee Black was bored to tears. Well, not tears exactly, he corrected himself mentally. Tears were girly. Sirius, at the ripe old age of three and a half, had managed to tear apart the kitchen. By magic. It didn't help that he was being screamed at by both parents at the time and in great emotional distress, but now he was banished to his room. Sirius burrowed his face deeper into his pillow and sighed. Why did these things always seem to happen to him? Gradually he drifted closer and closer to the world of dreamland.
An hour later, he was awakened with a start when a piercing cry shook the house to its foundation. Regulus, the baby, was awake and very hungry. Sirius rolled over and got up. Out of sheer cussedness he bounced hard on the bed several times, causing dust to shake out of the navy colored velvet hangings, before landing on the floor. He sneezed mightily.
"SIRIUS! WE'RE GOING TO THE ALLEY! GET DOWN HERE, BOY!" his mother screamed up the stairs.
Sirius tied his shoes onto his feet proudly (he'd learned how to last week) and toddled out of his room, which was decorated with his great-uncle's old Quidditch posters, and down the stairs into the entrance hall. His mother had obviously vanished into the fireplace already, so Sirius grabbed a handful of Floo Powder. "Diagon Alley!" he said, throwing the powder down and stepping into the lit fireplace. With a whirl of smoke and a peculiar sucking feeling, Sirius sped past thousands of different fireplaces to be spat out into the Leaky Cauldron only a moment later. His mother was already there, tapping her foot impatiently. She adjusted the baby sling that held Regulus and grabbed Sirius's chubby hand, marching off. She unlocked the gate into the Alley proper with wandless magic and immediately steered for Gringotts.
They trotted up what seemed like a hundred thousand steps to Sirius and his short legs, finally making it inside the marble colossus that was the Wizarding bank of London.
A goblin stationed at the door directed them to a queue and they stood in line for what seemed like forever. Sirius wanted very badly to sit down by the time they reached the teller's abominably high desk; after his forced march and the long wait, his feet were nearly about to fall off. However, he knew his mum wouldn't like him "making a public spectacle of himself," as she would say, so he stayed upright.
"Key, please," grated the hairy old goblin. The creature smelt of moldy cheese to Sirius, who wrinkled his tiny, childlike nose and squinted up his eyes in what he hoped was a passable imitation of his mother's supremely disgusted expression.
Without a word, Chara Arcturus-Black unclasped a delicate golden chain from about her neck and dropped it and their vault key into the goblin's wizened, three-fingered little hand.
"That seems to be in order, Madame Black, so if you'll just follow me…" it grated again. The thing sounded like it was carrying gravel around in its mouth. Wait, maybe it was carrying gravel around in its mouth... perhaps it was a peculiar goblin rmemdy for... bad breath? Siirus shook his head regretfully. He'd have loved to find out, but for his mum. She spoiled a lot of his fun.
Chara, with an curl of her lip and a disgusted, superior lift of her eyebrow, followed the creature over to where the carts were, letting herself be handed into the cart by the goblin and then lifting Sirius in herself. In Sirius's mind, this was the best part of Gringotts- the carts were so much fun to ride in! Sirius loved anything that went ridiculously fast; his father jokingly called him his little future Quidditch player because of it.
All too soon, the little cart screamed to an admittedly violent halt in front of Vault Number Two Hundred and Sixty-One. Chara and the goblin got out, the goblin opening the vault door and then returning the key and its chain to Sirius's mother. Chara entered the vault, preventing Sirius from seeing what was inside other than a giant heap of Wizarding money and what looked like a rack of weapons. About forty seconds later, Chara emerged from the vault with a bulging money bag and a satisfied expression. Without a word, the goblin drove them up to the surface again. One they were standing outside the bank, Sirius's mum hauled her sons off down the Alley, halting in front of Ollivanders'.
"Sirius, I'm only getting you a wand to stop the accidental magic. If you use it in any way against another person or anyone else's belongings, it will be taken away and you will be seriously punished. Clear?" Chara asked sharply.
"Yes mum," Sirius replied cheerfully, thrilled out of his mind. A real wand! It would be wonderful to not accidentally break things he liked (and some he really didn't) when he was angry, or inflate the house-elves when they didn't make food he liked, or turn people funny colors when he was displeased with them, or…
They stepped into the dank coolness of the wand shop.
"Madame Black and the young masters Black! Much earlier than I thought I'd be seeing you…" a mysterious voice came out of the shadows, soon followed by a man who looked to be a lot like the Gringotts goblins.
Sirius gasped. The man had magic flowing off of him in waves; it was almost corporeal. Ollivander chuckled.
"A powerful little one you have here, Chara. He'll make quite the wizard," said Ollivander, bustling off into the back at an imperious gesture from Madame Black.
He returned a moment later with his arms full of long, thin, remarkably dusty wand boxes and Chara sat down on the dusty velvet chair like it was a throne, cradling Regulus in her lap. Ollivander handed Sirius a wand that was practically taller than he was but snatched it away before Sirius even had a chance to give it a wave.
"No, no, how about ebony and basilisk fang?" The little man mutterd.
Another wand was grabbed away as a flowerpot exploded with a bang.
"Never, but what about yew and dragon heartstring?" the old man mumbled to himself, snatching that wand away and replacing it with another. This process went on for quite some time, with various devastating and amusing effects created by the wands.
Finally, Sirius was handed a really long wand. It, despite being "Ebony, seventeen inches, werewolf and unicorn hair," had a peculiar luminescence that attracted the young boy at once. He waved the thing with quite an effort, creating a warm breeze that sent his dark hair into disarray and fluttered the curtains which hung above the window.
"Ah, yes," said Ollivander happily.
"Strange, though," the old man continued.
"None of your family has ever had such a peculiar wand, in the three centuries I have been supplying them… it seems you'll be destined for great things, young man," Ollivander said, bending down and gazing piercingly into Sirius's grey eyes.
Everything Sirius had witnessed up to that date flashed before his eyes and it felt like an iron vice was gripping his head- memories that were not his began to show themselves to him.
Another young boy that looked a lot liked him was born, grew up, lived, loved, died…
"Ahh… of course," Ollivander muttered. He handed Sirius a piece of parchment.
"You'll be back, mark my words, m' lord," he said, addressing the small child with a curious amount of respect.
"Er… back from where?" Sirius asked curiously.
"Never you mind just yet. Just remember this: when all hope is lost, do not give up," and with that, the man trundled off to the register, ringing the wand up at seven Galleons.
Chara paid and they left. Sirius was not to remember this incident for close on thirty years, and when he finally did it was nearly too late.