Author's Note: So I'm taking a little break from Ron/Hermione stories to write this one-shot about Hermione's first trip to Diagon Alley. If people like this I might add another chapter with Ron's. I tried my best to keep this canon compliant, but if I made a mistake, please (kindly) let me know!
Disclaimer: I must not tell lies! I'm not J.K. Rowling, and I do not own any part of Harry Potter.
Hermione Granger held her breath as she approached the large brick wall. This was it. A tall, broad-shouldered man who'd introduced himself as Otis Cours from the Ministry of Magic stepped forward and raised his wand.
"Pay attention," he instructed the eleven-year-old girl. "This is how you'll get into Diagon Alley in the future."
Hermione nodded eagerly and watched carefully as Mr. Cours tapped one of the bricks. Immediately the wall began shifting and rearranging until it revealed a long cobblestone street.
The two of them stepped onto the street, followed by Hermione's parents. Hermione tried to act like she knew what she was doing, but it was very difficult with Mr. Cours pointing out different aspects of Diagon Alley every two seconds. Finally she gave up and decided to enjoy her first venture into the magical world without caring what other people thought of her.
However, one thing made her a bit uncomfortable. Everyone seemed to be wearing robes; Hermione felt very out of place in her blouse and jeans. "Where can we go to get my school robes?" she asked, anxious to fit in with the other witches and wizards.
"Madam Malkin's, but first we need to go to Gringotts, the wizard bank," Mr. Cours replied. "You can exchange your Muggle money for Wizarding currency."
As they walked down Diagon Alley, Hermione wished she had another pair of eyes in order to see everything they passed. Maybe there was a spell for that, Hermione mused. She really had no idea what to expect in the Wizarding world.
"Here we are," Mr. Cours said. Hermione looked up and saw a tall, pure white building. She stared at it in awe, and when she glanced at her parents, she noticed they were doing the same.
Inside Gringotts sat rows of creatures that Hermione assumed must be like bank tellers. "What are those?" she whispered.
"Goblins," Mr. Cours answered.
The goblins slightly intimidated Hermione, so she hung back while her parents made the currency exchange. It was strange, she thought, having to use a different form of money in the same country. But then again, everything here was odd to her.
Her parents returned from changing their money, and Mr. Cours began to explain the coins to them as they left Gringotts.
"These small bronze coins are called Knuts. Twenty nine of them make up a Sickle, and seventeen Sickles is a Galleon." He pointed to a silver coin and then a gold coin in turn.
Hermione's mind spun as she tried to commit everything she'd learned so far to memory. "Gringotts is the bank… Run by goblins… Knuts, Sickles, and Galleons…" she muttered to herself.
Before she knew it, they were entering Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. They were greeted by a cheerful witch; Hermione assumed she must be Madam Malkin.
"Hello, dear, are you here for your Hogwarts robes?" she asked kindly. Hermione nodded, and Madam Malkin led her into the back of the shop. She had Hermione stand on a stool and put on a robe so she could pin it to the correct length.
Hermione felt a little shiver of excitement as she watched Madam Malkin work. She was getting her school robes! Now she was finally beginning to feel like a part of this new world.
"There," Madam Malkin said at last. "You're finished." She began to remove the robe, but Hermione stopped her.
"Can I – can I keep it on?" she asked shyly.
"Well, yes, I suppose," Madam Malkin said. Hermione got down from the stool and followed her back to the front of the store.
"Look!" Hermione said proudly to her parents. She spun around so the robe billowed out behind her.
"Very nice," Mr. Granger said with a smile.
Mrs. Granger nodded and pulled out their money bag. "How much do we owe you?" she said to Madam Malkin.
While her parents paid, Hermione continued to admire her robes, rubbing the material between her fingers. She was really a witch; she would actually be going to school at Hogwarts this year.
The group soon left the robe shop. Mr. Cours took them to another place called Flourish and Blotts. When Hermione saw what was inside, she couldn't help giving a gasp of surprise and delight.
Flourish and Blotts was filled with shelves of books, wonderful new books. Hermione slowly moved forward and reached out to touch one of the spines. These weren't just any old books. These were books with magic.
Mr. Granger handed Hermione her school book list and put a hand on her shoulder. "You can stay here a little while, and we'll go get your other supplies, okay?"
Hermione nodded wordlessly, her fingers itching to turn the pages of the books. This was where she belonged, in any world, magic or Muggle. She decided to find her school books quickly so she could spend time reading.
Hermione lifted a book from its shelf, and instantly she was lost in the words on the pages. She couldn't believe that in a matter of weeks, she'd be able to perform the magic she was reading about. Well, some of it, anyway. But for the first time, these stories weren't fantasies. They were realities.
Later, Mr. and Mrs. Granger and Mr. Cours found Hermione curled up in a corner of the bookstore, nose buried in Hogwarts, a History. They had to say her name several times before she realized they were there.
"Mum, Dad," Hermione said imploringly. "May I buy a few extra books? I got all my school books, but I found some more I want to get as well…"
"Sure," Mrs. Granger agreed. "Hermione loves reading," she told Mr. Cours unnecessarily.
Hermione got up and dusted herself off. Her parents helped her carry her books to the shop manager to pay, and then they left the store.
"Now, let's see," Mr. Granger said, pretending to think. "Do we have everything? We got your robes, your books…"
"She still needs a wand," said Mr. Cours, who obviously hadn't noticed Mr. Granger's teasing tone.
"A wand!" Hermione shrieked. "I can't believe I almost forgot! Let's go now!"
Several minutes later, the group was crowded into Ollivander's wand shop. Despite her initial excitement, Hermione was now feeling extremely nervous. This seemed like the final test of whether or not she'd truly become part of the Wizarding world.
"Welcome," a voice said suddenly. Hermione jumped, startled, but soon found the voice's source: an old man emerging from the shadows of the shelves filled with long, thin boxes. This had to be Mr. Ollivander.
"First year at Hogwarts?" Mr. Ollivander questioned.
"Yes," Hermione said.
"You must be very excited," Mr. Ollivander said.
"Yes," Hermione said again. She couldn't think of anything else to say.
Mr. Ollivander smiled. "Well, you can't do magic without a wand, so let's get started." He removed a measuring tape from his pocket and began taking various measurements on Hermione. After a few moments, he walked away and went to the shelves, but the tape continued to measure by itself.
"How does this work? Picking a wand, I mean," Hermione asked when she'd found her voice and gotten over the fact that an inanimate object was moving of its own volition.
"I always say the wand chooses the wizard, or in your case, the witch," Mr. Ollivander said. "When we find your ideal wand, we'll know. Trust me."
He searched the shelves, picked up one of the boxes, and removed the wand. "Apple and unicorn hair, ten and a quarter inches, slightly springy."
He offered the wand to Hermione, but took it back the moment she touched it. "No, no, that's not right at all," he murmured. He swiftly replaced the apple wand on its shelf and selected another. "Willow and phoenix feather, eleven inches, flexible." This wand apparently didn't please Mr. Ollivander either, and he whisked it away just as fast as the first one.
Hermione tried wand after wand without success. She soon lost count of how many she'd tested. Then Mr. Ollivander chose a wand that Hermione could tell was different than the others. She almost felt that if Mr. Ollivander hadn't been holding the wand, it would have jumped into her hand and refused to leave her. Maybe this was the one, she thought hopefully.
"Vine and dragon heartstring, ten and three quarter inches, swishy," Mr. Ollivander identified. Hermione closed her fingers around the wood, grasping it tightly. But this time, Mr. Ollivander didn't snatch it away. A moment later, red and blue sparks shot out of the end of the wand.
"That's the one!" Mr. Ollivander cried. "Congratulations!" Mr. and Mrs. Granger clapped enthusiastically, and even Mr. Cours had what looked like a smile on his lips.
Hermione felt like laughing and crying at the same time. She had been accepted into the magical world. Of course, she'd known that for a while, but this seemed like confirmation that she really belonged.
After paying for the wand, the Grangers and Mr. Cours left the shop. "Now we have everything," Mr. Granger said. "Are you ready to go, Hermione?"
"Sure," Hermione said. "Thanks for everything. I can't wait to start school!"
As they were leaving Diagon Alley, Mr. Cours spoke with Mr. and Mrs. Granger – something about a Platform 9 ¾ – but Hermione wasn't paying attention. She had already pulled out A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration and was poring over the pages. Would she be expected to have the school books memorized? She probably should, just in case.
Hermione felt a tingle of anticipation. She was going to start another chapter in the story of her life. And she had a feeling it was going to be quite an adventure.