Edited. I own neither series.
Hermione juggled the books in her hands, overjoyed at her luck. She had, of course, bought all of her school supplies the two months prior, but she a sale on history books? How could she resist? While her parents milled about and awkwardly made conversation in the Leaky Cauldron, she shopped. Of course, she'd read most of the history books already, but her recent check revealed she hadn't been able to buy the entire stock of history-related books. She still couldn't understand why history books, of all things, would go on sale. With a few more days to go until September, she had to fit in as much reading time as possible. Her parents weren't expecting her back for a few hours, letting her get a head start on reading them before the day was even over.
Lost in her fantasies of planned reading, she almost missed the sudden hush falling over the Alley. Hermione skidded to a stop, briefly pausing to take notice of everyone else halting. One pair of footsteps echoed in the silence, becoming steadily louder as the person approached. Hermione turned in time for two people to brush past in velvet robes.
Robes, robes, what was with wizards and billowing fabric? Her eyes lingered on the one with a smirk in his eyes, before flicking to the other, made mysterious by the patch over one eye. They both appeared her age, despite how they radiated an aura she associated with older people in positions of power. A woman whispered something, and that started the chain reaction for everyone to bandy gossip and rumours, openly within earshot of the boys.
"I heard he was missing for months!"
"No one knows where he was."
"Two months ago he appeared as Lord Potter, with that human house elf."
Lord Potter? Harry Potter was one of those boys? Hermione glanced down at the books in her hands. They all contained the history of Harry Potter in them at one point or another. She supposed that was why they went on sale. They weren't accurate. The acknowledgement pained her, but it was best to have correct information than false.
"Dumbledore told the Prophet that Harry grew up with his muggle relatives. He couldn't possibly be a halfblood; see how he carries himself? Lily must have had at least one magical parent!"
All of the history books were over how Harry lived and grew up; there was an entire series of books over Harry's magical dangerous adventures as a kid. Now that Hermione saw the truth in front of her, all she held in her hands were theories and fantasy. Fiction.
"But why are they here? Surely they could owl anything they needed or rent out the Alley for a day with all that money."
Her curiosity piqued by that statement, Hermione followed behind the two boys. After discretely dumping the lies in a trashcan, of course. No one else bothered to follow the same idea, too caught up in gossiping and going about their own business. Hermione thought it an odd contrast to how muggles reacted around famous people.
She snuck behind them into a magical pet store. They took a glance at the snakes before swerving to the cats. The boy with gloves picked up a kitten and started cooing, showering it with affection and admiring the traits of the feline species. The boy with the eyepatch dragged him away and out the door, bypassing Hermione so she could hear him call the other one Sebastian.
Sebastian directed the other boy - Harry, she now knew to call him - to the Owl Emporium, but Harry refused and they continued down the Alley, drawing gossip and stares their way. They ignored it, not even glancing at the observers. An amazing feat of discipline, in Hermione's eyes.
The boys went into Ollivander's, Sebastian holding the door for Harry. Hermione loitered at the edge of the building, for a moment, shifting on her feet and darting her eyes. Sebastian turned his stare to her and beckoned, making her freeze as he only smirked.
"You want to go inside, right?"
Hermione hurried in, ducking to the side when Harry looked her way. It wasn't a glare, merely an asking look. He shrugged, and returned to Ollivander. The old man stared at Harry intently, almost on the verge of laughter.
"Harry Potter," he mused. It wasn't a question. "You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work." Ollivander moved closer to Harry.
"Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it - it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course." Mr. Ollivander leaned so close that he and Harry were almost nose to nose.
"And that's where..." Mr. Ollivander touched the lightning scar on Harry's forehead with a long, white finger.
"I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," he said softly. "Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands... well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do..."
Ollivander's eyes flicked over to Sebastian, and back to Harry in so short a time that Hermione had to ask herself if she'd seen his eyes move. He chuckled slightly. "I presume the both of you will want wands?"
What kind of question was that? Oblivious to Hermione's disbelieving stare, the two seemed to understand the underlying meaning.
"Mr. Potter first, then."
Harry stepped forward. Ollivander pulled out a long tape measure with silver markings from his pocket.
"Which is your wand arm?"
Harry raised his right arm, a difference from Hermione's stuttered answer from when she first was here. The tape measure floated out of his hands to measure Harry from shoulder to finger, wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knuckle to forehead, and so many other distances, even his eyepatch.
"Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mr. Potter. We use unicorn hair, phoenix tail feathers, heartstrings of dragons, and very rarely, the blood of a contract. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, of phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand." Harry suddenly seemed to realize that the tape measure, which was measuring between his nostrils, was doing this on its own. Mr. Ollivander was flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes.
"That will do," he said, and the tape measure crumpled into a heap on the floor. "Right then, Mr. Potter. Try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave." Harry took the wand and waved it around a bit, but Ollivander snatched it out of his hand almost at once.
"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try -" Harry tried - but he had hardly raised the wand when it, too, was snatched back by Mr. Ollivander.
"No, no." Ollivander almost handed him another wand, but snatched it back and threw it over his shoulder. "My apologies, Mr. Potter, I don't know how that one got there. No unicorn hairs for you - you understand." He winked and tapped his temple to illustrate.
Harry nodded slowly. Sebastian whispered something to him, prompting Harry to say, "It's quite alright."
Harry tried. And tried. Confusion overruled polite smiles as time dragged on. The pile of tried wands was mounting higher and higher on the spindly chair, but the more wands Mr. Ollivander pulled from the shelves, the wider his smile became.
"Tricky customer, eh. Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere - I wonder, now - - yes, why not - unusual combination - holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple." Harry took the wand. He raised the wand above his head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on the walls.
Mr. Ollivander cried, "Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well... how curious... how very curious... " He put Harry's wand back into its box and wrapped it in brown paper, still muttering, "Curious... curious.."
"Excuse me," said Harry, "but can you explain what's curious?" Mr. Ollivander fixed Harry with his pale stare.
"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather - just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother why, its brother gave you that scar."
"Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember... I think we must expect great things from you, Mr. Potter... After all, He- Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things - terrible, yes, but great."
Ollivander shook his head an chuckled. "I suppose, considering," here he implied something, but Hermione didn't catch it. "Well, it fits, although I was hoping for one with the blood. Next, Sebastian."
Sebastian stepped forward and whispered something to Ollivander. The man brightened and ran to the other end of the shop. Several crashes were heard, along with a few cheers, before Ollivander came back with a box exactly like the others, tripping over the floor on his way.
"Thir-thir-thiteen inches, mahogany, contract blood from a starved demon."
Sebastian gave a graceful twirl of the wand, and dark feathers flowed forth. He nodded and set the payment on the desk. He turned to Hermione, making her freeze at his obvious acknowledgement of her. "Mademoiselle, it's your turn for a wand." His pleasant smile seemed like a smirk at that moment. Hermione hesitantly smiled back.
"Right, but I already have a wand-"
"Oh!" Ollivander perked up. "A back-up is always a good idea, Miss Granger. It's brilliant of you to think of!"
Ollivander continued babbling as he collected boxes. "Most wizards don't like the idea, see. The more foci a wizard has the more work involved, and sometimes their first wand will stop working for them! Of course, it can also just be a convenience and have none of those nasty side effects all the same. Cherry, thirteen inches, unicorn hair."
Hermione accepted the wand and waved it; flowers of all kinds sprouted from the end, twisting their stems and fusing the blooms to create one beautiful flower.
Ollivander nodded. "Yes, as I thought. I gave you that wand before, do you remember? Wands so often predict vaguely the wielder's future, and to have two predictions from wands isn't uncommon. Yet, this wand hadn't reacted to you before. Something in the past month has affected you greatly, and your future has changed from it."
Hermione thought about it, and nodded in acceptance. This was the wizarding world; Mcgonagall's demonstration of her animagus form had already proved her physics studies were for naught. Who was she to say that fortune telling wasn't real? That would be hypocritical.
"Have a nice day," Ollivander told them as they all left.
Hermione eagerly left, and was about to zip out of sight when Harry said, "I'm Harry Potter, and this is my butler, Sebastian."
Hermione's eyes widened at the word 'butler', but she shook the offered hand and said, "Hermione Granger. I'll be starting my first year at Hogwarts."
Harry nodded. "Same as us. You're muggleborn, right?"
"Yes, how did you know?"
"The handshake." He explained, "In the wizarding world, with nobility, men shake hands or bow, women shake hands or curtsey, and men and women always curtsy and bow to each other. If a woman shakes a man's hand in greeting, it is considered a grievous insult."
Hermione's face burned. "But you incited the handshake!"
Harry grinned. "According to wizarding etiquette, the man can't be placed at fault."
"That's...that's sexist!"
"And that's what makes it funny to catch you like that! I had three guesses as to why you shook my hand."
Hermione paused, and laughed.
"We'll see you at the train, then. Sebastian, let's go."
Hermione waved goodbye to them, and started back to the Leaky Cauldron. Her foot stopped in midair though, and she changed her direction, toward Flourish and Blotts again.
The wizarding population was small. She had to be prepared for when she came across another lord or the son of one.
This Hermione is a bit different from canon, as with how she accepted divination as real this time around. Where the 'Mr' is added before Ollivander's name are places where I copied directly from the book.