"Taking some risks as if you're afraid/ If life gave you an orange would you make lemonade?/ And it's funny how nobody sings about oranges when you've got one in the palm of your hand..." - Lawrence, "Oranges"
Sirius gave a low groan, tugging his pillow over his head and trying to stretch his legs out as far as they'd go. He'd been horrified to learn that "Harry's Place" was actually Grimmauld Place, a fact that even Hermione and Ron had shared grimaces over. Sirius had soldiered on for Harry, masking his abject horror at being in the house until the man had suggested Sirius living in the house with him.
"It is your house, after all," Harry had mentioned as Ron pinched the bridge of his nose and shot Sirius a worried look.
"Well!" Ron had spoken up, "Mind if I move in as well? Been trying to get out of George's hair now that he's doing well."
"Of course, mate!" Harry had seemed thrilled. "The more the merrier, there's plenty of rooms here."
Sirius had given Ron a thankful tip of the head before he uncorked his muggle beer and attempted to down it all in one go.
The night had involved Harry, Ron and Hermione laying down the story for him, starting from Lily and James being under the Fidelius Charm, which he knew about, up to the end of the final battle at Hogwarts. He was still left with many questions, but he knew he wasn't in any rush to get them answered now. Remus had gotten married to his tiny cousin Nymphadora, and they'd had a son before they were both killed in the battle. Emmeline Vance, who'd been his on-again off-again girlfriend, had went down swinging during the first Wizarding War, and he'd startled the trio by laughing because he couldn't imagine any other way the witch would've wanted to die.
He remained perfectly still when he heard the door to his old bedroom open, because he absolutely did not want to wake up and deal with being in this house sober. But the person stepped into the room, pulled the curtains open, and threw his shoes onto his back.
"Wakey, wakey!" Hermione sang, annoyingly chipper when he had a hangover, but then again she'd only had a butterbeer last night. Or maybe two, it certainly wasn't like he was counting when he was actively trying to get as drunk as possible.
"Fuck off," he grumbled under the pillow.
"As much as I'd love to, can't," she insisted before casting a few dusting charms around the room, making a frown of distaste at the pictures of scantily clad women atop motorbikes. "We've got a full day ahead of us! Harry made a quick stop to Gringotts this morning and got you the full Black family fortune back, so we're going to get you a wand, bother Draco for more information, and probably find you a full wardrobe. Unless, of course, you're particular to wearing that set of clothes for eternity, which I wouldn't recommend."
"Hold on," he rolled onto his back and squinted at the light, trying to pull his brain together. "Harry did what?"
"Got you the Black family fortune back," she repeated, "You'd given him everything in your will, but he thought the money should be yours."
"Brill," he said as he sat up, digging a shoe out from under the covers to tug it on. He couldn't believe he'd gone to bed fully clothed, as that was normally his pet peeve, but he supposed he'd wanted to be unconscious faster. Drunk Sirius had a knack for just wanting to sleep. "The bit about the wand?"
"We can do that first," she nodded, "I've got to make some stops in town, so I'll leave you to it at Ollivander's and we can make the trip to Mungo's after that."
"And you'll take me to muggle thrift shops?" He asked with a growing grin, even at her confused stare. "I love those places. They've got the best things."
"Sure, I don't see why not," she smiled back. "I'll get some galleons converted while you're at Ollivander's too."
"Shouldn't take too long," he insisted as he stood and ruffled his hair into place. "I've got my old wand memorized. Vine, 8 and ¾ inches, dragon heartstring. Very practical."
"The wand chooses the wizard, and no two wands are made the same," Hermione chided, "I highly doubt you'll find a wand with the same dragon's heartstring as the one you had in 1980."
Sirius scoffed, rolling his eyes at her as he motioned her towards the door, "Ladies first, princess."
She scoffed as well, meandering down the stairs as he followed before he paused on the landing, peering at a portrait with curtains wrapped around it.
"Sirius!" Hermione hissed quietly from the foyer, "Don't touch that!"
He arched a brow at her before smirking and batting at the curtain with one hand. Her eyes screamed murder, so he did it again, more vigorously this time, so the curtains flung open and he was met with screeching.
"MUDBLOOD! FILTH! TARNISHING MY PRECIOUS HOME!" Walburga Black, or at least the painting of her, wailed as Hermione thundered back up the stairs and tried to tug the curtains closed as Sirius gaped at his mother. Her painted gaze settled on him, and her rage increased. "BLOOD TRAITOR SCUM! THE WORST EXCUSE FOR A WIZARD I HAVE EVER ENCOUNTERED!"
"Shut the fuck up, mum," he growled, yanking it shut forcibly and bumping into Hermione as he did so. Once all was quiet again, he sighed and pressed a hand to her back to guide her back downstairs. "Guess that's what I get for not listening to you."
She chuckled, "I've known Harry and Ron for nine years and they still don't listen to me."
He barked a laugh and they headed towards the Floo, "So. Muggleborn or half-blood?"
"Muggleborn and proud, thank you," she beamed. "My parents were dentists, they were a sort of doctor that specialize in teeth."
"Oh right, Moony hated them," he chuckled as they paused outside of the fire grate. "His mum, she was a Muggle, insisted he go, and they tried to give him braces. She figured taking him to Mungo's the once for straight teeth was easier than having to explain why her ten year old son kept snapping the wires off every month."
She gave another laugh, and they were through the Floo and to the Leaky Cauldron. She urged Sirius that she'd be back at Ollivander's to pick him up when she was done getting her own things, but Sirius scoffed and said he'd meet her at the bank in an hour, and if he wasn't there then she could meet him at Ollivander's.
He was expecting the wand shop to have maintained itself since the last time he'd stepped in at eleven, but he was wrong. There was a new counter, and new, much taller shelves for wands and those rolling ladders that were normally in libraries. He'd paused in confusion, letting the door shut behind him and the bell above ring again, and wondered if Ollivander had returned to wandmaking after being kidnapped by Death Eaters.
"Yes, yes, I heard you," the aging wizard said as he appeared from the back, staring Sirius down before chuckling. "Mister Black. You do seem to be a sight for sore eyes. Lorena, a dress maker a few doors down, told me the news late yesterday. I knew better than to believe it before you stepped in my door, but it seems I owe it to her."
Sirius grinned at the familiar face, as he hadn't had too many of those since he came to the future. "It's great to see you too. Think you can get me settled with a new wand?"
"If I cannot, I will hang my apron and close the doors forever," he announced, waving Sirius to the back.
Which was precisely where Hermione found him an hour later, smugly standing over him with her arms crossed as he frowned up at her from his position on a step ladder.
"Shut up, Granger," he grumbled threateningly. He hoped that really was her last name, as he'd only heard it a few times. It could've been an odd nickname, which was entirely in the realm of possibility considering his friends took to calling him 'Padfoot.'
"Hermione Granger?" Ollivander poked his head out of the stacks of wands, confirming Sirius's suspicions of her last name. "Well! Two familiar faces in one day!"
"Hullo, sir," she smiled kindly to him. "Need some help?"
"Oh, if you have the time, dear," he responded, delving back into the stacks of wands. "I'm afraid Mister Black may be my most difficult case yet!"
She smirked at him again, and he glared harder as he flicked the wand Ollivander handed to him, only to have a puff of smoke come out of the tip. Hermione climbed atop a ladder and began handing wands to him, so he was going through two at a time instead of one, handing each defective wand back to either Ollivander or Hermione to replace and give him a new one.
After thirty or so minutes of this, he finally held one that lit up. "Thank God," he insisted as he stood and stretched, bumping the ladder and causing Hermione to screech and fall into his arms.
They took a second or two to blink at each other, both obviously scared shitless at what had just transpired, before he cracked a grin. "Falling for me already, love?"
Hermione's look of surprise shifted into a deadpan glare as she shoved at his face and got herself down from his hold. "You wish, Sirius."
"Let me see," Ollivander took the wand from his hand, either not caring at all about Sirius's methods of flirtation, or simply pretending not to. "Hawthorn, 9 and a half inches, dragon heartstring from...ah, Norwegian Ridgeback. Interesting, your old wand was from a Peruvian Vipertooth." At this, Hermione smirked. He ignored her. "Lightweight yet sturdy. A very excellent wand."
"Thank you, sir," Sirius said, taking the wand back and feeling much more relaxed than he had in a month. "How much?"
"Absolutely nothing," Ollivander insisted sternly. "It was a pleasure to see you, the both of you. I do not want your money."
Sirius huffed, ready to argue, but Hermione tugged at his arm. "Well, we've got to get going then. Thank you, sir!"
"Any time, dear!" He brightened, "Feel free to visit whenever your schedules allow!"
Sirius looked at her curiously as she led him to the front of the shop, hurriedly slapped a few galleons on the counter, and sprinted out of the door with him following.
"That's what my dad did when we got my wand," Hermione explained with a laugh. "He and Ollivander hit it off so well, that Ollivander didn't want his money. Dad sent me and Mum outside so he could put a few bills under the corner of the register and sneak outside."
He chuckled, just imaging Ollivander's annoyance at discovering they'd paid, before realizing that Hermione had really been the one to pay in the first place. "I'll buy you lunch, since you did that."
She snorted, "Don't bother, consider it a - well, a homecoming gift."
He laughed, settling the wand in his back pocket as they wandered the streets of Diagon Alley. He tried to ignore the stares and hushed whispers others did when they saw him, but the further they got into the heart of the town, the more difficult it became. He stiffened entirely when a young girl of no more than fourteen shyly edged into their path and took deep breaths.
"Are you Hermione Granger?!" She asked quickly, squealing when Hermione nodded. "D'you mind taking a picture with me?"
"Of course not," Hermione smiled kindly, and Sirius happily hopped out of frame as the girl's mother readied the camera. She wished the girl and her mother a nice day, and regrouped with Sirius to head towards Mungo's.
"When you three mentioned how you got that statue, I didn't even think of what that meant for your celebrity status," Sirius remarked, even as she sighed.
"It's mostly on Harry, being the Chosen One," she rolled her eyes. "Ron loves the attention though, Harry and I could do without it."
"Everyone seems nice to you, though," he said.
"Imagine being a Muggleborn celebrity," she pointed out. "The very people who insisted you didn't belong in this world one day, will turn around and sing your praises the next. And if I do or say anything, everybody assumes I haven't 'assimilated' and that I need to be taught how to do things from a Wizarding perspective."
"How cumbersome," Draco announced as he appeared on Sirius's other side, smirking as the two jumped. "I heard whispers that the Hermione Granger was walking towards Mungo's with some mysterious stranger beside her. Don't tell me you two were on your way to see little old me?"
Hermione snorted, arching a brow and grinning at him, "Are you Sirius's primary Healer or not, you wanker?"
He gave what appeared to be a genuine smile and nodded, "My supervisor was very impressed at my knowledge outside of the standard curriculum, and I've been catapulted a month closer to getting my certification."
"Congratulations!" She responded as Sirius wondered about their dynamic. It appeared that Harry and Ron couldn't stand Draco, and he could only guess that the feeling was mutual. Hermione, however, had seemed to be personally victimized by the blonde Slytherin throughout school, and the two were perfectly cordial, considering the circumstances.
"I'm on my lunch break right now, but we can head to my flat and I'll give you the symptoms to look out for," he directed this at Sirius before looking to Hermione, "As well as giving you all the books on the subject. To borrow."
"Oh please," she snorted as she reached to take his arm, Sirius taking the other, "Who do you think I am?"
"A dragon with a bush on its head that favors hoarding books," he snarked, Apparating away just as she made a noise of indignation.