Chapter Two- The Cursed Door

A searing band of orange cut through the lightening purple of the night sky as the sun broke the horizon. It was early, still before the time when salary workers would start to wake and prepare for the day. A stray cat scattered out of a neglected alleyway to flee from the clicking footsteps of the encroaching stranger. The soft tapping of wood on brick echoed off the plain concrete floor of the alley. A mumbled whisper, a flash of light, and then a brief silence that was broken by the grinding of bricks folding and sliding back.

Hermione pulled up her cloak, tying it a little tighter around her neck, and folding up the soft wool hood over her curly hair. A wave of nostalgia washed over her as she stepped through the doorway into Diagon Alley. Eight years ago she had first come here with her parents as a wide-eyed little girl shopping for her first wand. My how things have changed.

A few months ago the ally was full of life. Shop windows displayed fashionable wares, and brightly bound books lined the bookshop displays. A jolly old witch sold colorful candies from an apple red cart on the cobble stone street in front of the apothecary store. Above the sharp laughter of children playing with their Wizard Wheezes, the hooting of owls and the croaking of toads could be heard.

Now Diagon Alley was quiet in the early stages of recovery. The Death Eaters destroyed Ollivander's wand shop. When the Ministry fell and the Muggle Born Commission began, paranoid resulted in violence and small riots. Stores of Wizards taken by Snatchers were looted, and vandalism was rampant. As Hermione walked down the broken street she could see the faded letters of 'Mudblood' spray painted on walls. Her stomach turned sour. She ran her fingers over her forearm. The scar of those same words throbbing in the memory of the prejudice.

She soldiered on until she reached the collapsed doorway into Ollivander's. The shop had sat neglected too long. The door had been blown off its hinges, resting among the dirt and leaves that had blown inside. The inside of the store was dilapidated and destroyed. The tall shelves that had held the myriad of wands were overturned; patches of the old polished wood were scorched black by magic. The wands, those beautiful wands that Ollivander had crafted were disrespected. Many of them were snapped and strewn about the floor amongst the crushed boxes and soiled ribbon.

Her skin prickled as she moved deeper into the store. She could feel the magic in this place, most of it old and happy. It was the magical thumbprint Ollivander left behind after years of crafting and enchanting. Here and there she felt the sharp stabs of dark magic, like vipers in the shadows striking at her suddenly. Those venomous fangs she knew personally, for she had been a victim to them herself. The torture curse, "Cruciatus", she whispered under her breath. She pitied old Ollivander even more.

When she reached the back of the store she climbed the narrow stair case up to the landing. A small dusty hallway lead back to the workshop, which was locked behind a stout door. What Hermione had come for was in there, if it existed at all. She was searching for records, so that she might figure out who was the owner of the rosewood wand. Although Ollivander was not the only wand smith, he was the best in the world, and the wand in question was of the highest quality. So his records were the natural first choice to turn to.

She fished her wand out of her cloak pocket and raised it, the words 'Alohomora' forming on her lips. Suddenly a heavy blow to her hand disarmed her, and it was in that moment of broken concentration that she registered that a sharp "Expelliarmus!" had been yelled a second before from behind her. She turned to face her assailant, preparing to throw herself at them if necessary. To her shock, it was Harry standing in front of her looking angry at first, and then just as surprised as she was.

"Bloody hell Hermione!" he cursed at her. "What in Merlin's beard are you doing here?"

"Me?" She replied, offended. "What about you?"

"The Auror's have this place tagged Hermione! I was investigating a break in, which I suppose you would know all about right?"

"Right." Hermione replied, the guilt of her actions coming to surface. "Well it really wasn't hard. Maybe if the Auror's didn't want anyone in here they should fix the doorway, so that there might actually be a door preventing anyone from coming in." She quipped back. Harry huffed at that, but she did have a point.

"What are you even doing here anyway? Geez, I nearly stunned you, you know!"

"I know, and thanks for not doing that by the way. But listen to me Harry, I need something from in there."

Harry took in her desperation. Hermione was the most brilliant witch he knew. She always seemed to have a solution to everything, and seeing her so rattled was an uncomfortable experience for him. For now he chose to trust her, for he was a Gryffindor and loyal to a fault. "Even if I did let you get whatever it is you need, you can't get in there. It's hexed, Ollivander put a nasty curse on the room. Just watch." From his pocket Harry produced a crumpled bit of parchment and tossed it at the door. As soon as the paper touched the surface, it combusted into flames, spreading little bits of ash drifting through the air. "It works for magic too. You probably would be looking like that if I didn't stop you."

Hermione took in a sharp breath of realization, mentally kicking herself for not discovering the curse herself. "Why would Ollivander…" Her thoughts trailed off, the reason overwhelmingly obvious.

"Death Eaters." Harry confirmed her suspicions. "They thought he could make an Elder wand, they wanted it from him desperately, and he didn't want them to know if he actually could. Not to mention his trade secrets. At least that's what the Ministry thinks."

"And what do you think?" Hermione questioned.

"Well, I think there's that." Harry began, "But I also think he was protecting his things from the Ministry too."

"The Muggle Born Commission." Hermione stated.

"Right. They were trying to prove that M

uggle-borns stole their magic. If they had his records they could doctor them, make it seem like they stole their wands from magical families or something."

"Sounds like something they would have done. Damn it Harry! How am I supposed to get passed this?" She cursed at the door.

"If you figure it out, the Auror's would like to know too." Harry sighed. They both stared at the cursed door for a breath. "Well I need to reset the charm. I'll meet you back at the Burrow later and maybe we can sort out this mess you have gotten yourself into Ms. Granger."

Hermione returned his smile and followed Harry downstairs. She waved goodbye and headed back to the alleyway to retrieve her Portkey.