Hey guys, just to clarify, this fic will still be mostly Hermione up until her petrification. Fred's chapters will tend to be shorter than hers until then too (I think). Not sure how regularly I'll be able to upload, but I am pretty free now, and I have quite a lot already down so fingers crossed I can get back into the swing of things :')
Hermione was standing in front of a brick wall, biting her lip. It wasn't a position she had found herself in often; she'd never gotten in trouble in primary school and, anyway, their punishments had been more about introspection and writing apology letters than playground exile. She had to remind herself that this wasn't about exclusion. This was a way in. If she could manage it.
It was amazing that after an entire year of magical education, she still had trouble trying to convince herself of the magical blood in her veins. Maybe it had something to do with the solidity of the brick wall in front of her.
"Hermione?" her mother's voice was gentle even as it questioned her, "is everything alright?"
"Are you sure we're in the right place, love?" added her dad.
Hermione shook her head and turned to look at them, hoisting a smile up onto her face. "Of course," she answered both questions simultaneously and tried to pretend she hadn't noticed the slightly too-high pitch of her voice.
This was all fine. This was all just the following of written instructions. Professor McGonagall's letter had been clear. She, busy with the new wave of first year muggleborns, would not be able to accompany Hermione into Diagon Alley this August. Instead, she would leave Hermione with exactly all the information she needed to make the trip herself, and trust her to arrive at Kings Cross on September 1st will all that was required of her.
It felt different this time. Without her Head of House to follow, attempting to find her way back into the wizarding world felt like a test of her own skill. Actually, no. It didn't take skill to get through to Diagon Alley. She'd memorized the pattern of bricks to tap the first time she'd seen Professor McGonagall do it, a year ago almost to the day, and if she'd somehow forgotten, it was all there in black and white on the roll of parchment in her pocket. It was not skill which would mean the wall behind The Leaky Cauldron opened up for her now. No muggle could ever get through this barrier by themselves. Like all the defences the magical world put up against discovery, it was dependent on the one thing that could never be stolen or imitated.
It was magic. This was a test of her worthiness to occupy the magical world. Just like seeing Hogwarts for the first time – not as a ruin but as its magnificent, glorious self – had been. It put her in mind of the trials that had protected the Philosopher's Stone last year; would the tests never end? Would she never be certain of her ability to pass? You made it through those, she thought to herself firmly, and much more besides. She could do this.
With her breath held, she raised her wand and tapped it against the bricks. One, two three, four, fivesixseven. She started at the wall. Come on, she thought fiercely, you can't keep me out forever. And then the bricks started moving. She let out a sigh even as her parents' gasps sounded behind her. One more down, she thought, as, from behind the bricks and dust, the magical world came into view.
Her parents, bless them, were doing their best. Her father had walked into exactly three people on their relatively short journey from the alley entrance to Gringotts, every time because his eyes had caught on something marvellous across the way and could not be pulled back to the direction they were going. It gave her mother something to do, at least.
She kept making a show of dramatically puffing out air as she tugged on his elbow, long suffering sighs like what is he like? Can't he just deal with the fact that our daughter is a witch and lives in this strange and fabulous world? It might have fooled Hermione if she hadn't noticed the way her fingers dug a little too hard into her husband's shirtsleeve, how she was leaning slightly too heavily on him, unsteady.
It was almost as strange an experience for Hermione herself. Seeing her dentist parents standing amidst people rushing past in robes, holding wands and various magical pets, ducking around shops selling cauldrons and broomsticks… it was like reading a Narnia book only to have Miss Honey from Roald Dahl's Matilda wander in half-way through a battle. It was hard to believe it could ever make sense. Although, she thought idly, maybe a Miss Honey was exactly what the White Witch needed.
"Hermione!" Her father's voice came from further behind her than she'd thought he was, and she supressed a sigh. She called back without turning around or even slowing down, her eyes fixed on the enormous white building ahead.
"Dad, I know, it's amazing, but we really do need to –"
"Hermione, stop!" Her mother, too, appeared to have become distracted.
Reluctantly, Hermione obeyed; she couldn't go in without either of them. As she turned, it was hard to keep the tension out of her voice.
"I thought we agreed to stick to the schedule, mum. You can have a look around later…"
"Are you the parent or am I?" Her voice was suddenly firm, and Hermione noted with some alarm, the hands-on-hips pose she had adopted, a few steps down.
Her face flushed and she bit her lip. "Sorry. I'm just a little stressed…"
"We hadn't noticed." Her father deadpanned as he caught up with them.
"We've just spotted something that might help you out with that," her mum said, ignoring her husband.
Hermione took in her quirked mouth with confusion but before she had a chance to ask, dad had nodded over towards the alley below. She followed their gazes and –
"Harry!" she shouted, and her legs were already carrying her down the steps; she dimly registered her parent's stifled laughter as she flew past them. "Harry! Over here!"
It had been about a week since she heard from Ron telling her that he, Fred and George had managed to get Harry back to their house in complete and utter safety but she had had the faintest suspicion that he was keeping some of the details from her. To see him standing in front of her lifted a weight she hadn't realised she was carrying from her chest. Although – he actually looked a bit of a mess… and why wasn't he surrounded by redheads?
"What happened to your glasses?" She said as soon as she reached him. Before he could answer, she started as she registered the presence of the Hogwarts games keeper by his side – how had she missed him?
"Hello Hagrid – Oh, it's wonderful to see you two again – Are you coming into Gringotts, Harry?" She glanced behind her to see her parents watching them from the stairs, leaning into each other in a smiling conversation.
"As soon as I've found the Weasleys," Harry replied.
"Yeh won't have long ter wait," Hagrid said with a grin.
For the second time that day, Hermione whirled around to see a familiar face. Well – five familiar faces. Mr Weasley, Ron, Fred, George and Percy were sprinting up the crowded street towards them. Hermione felt her smile grow even wider. Ron spotted her and beamed back as the crowd of Weasleys reached Harry, Hagrid and herself.
"Harry," Mr. Weasley panted, "We hoped you'd only gone one grate too far…" He mopped his glistening head. "Molly's frantic – she's coming now –"
They'd travelled by Floo, then.
"Where did you come out?" Ron asked.
"Knockturn Alley," said Hagrid grimly.
"Excellent!" Said Fred and George together even as Hermione gasped in shock. She'd heard Lavender and Parvati discussing Knockturn Alley in hushed voices more than once – no wonder Harry looked so ragged!
"We've never been allowed in," said Ron enviously
"I should ruddy well think not," growled Hagrid, and Hermione couldn't help but agree.
As Mrs. Weasley appeared and Harry and Hagrid both became occupied with dealing with her gratitude and ministrations, Hermione turned to the Weasley boys.
"… heard they've got stuff from all the old Death Eater collections – "
"I hope you're not still talking about Knockturn Alley," said Hermione primly, cutting George off mid-sentence. "It's a perfectly horrid place and you should count yourselves lucky that you haven't had to end up there."
Ron, Fred and George each turned their heads to her with varying degrees of exasperation. Fred was the brother who recovered his faculties enough to talk first.
"Anyone would think you were the one who went down there," he said, raising his eyebrows at her, "Hullo, by the way, lovely to see you too."
"I don't need to have been there to know it's awful," Hermione retorted. "Although I suppose – horribly dangerous – isn't that your favourite kind of day trip?" She glared at them. "Don't think Ron didn't tell me it was your idea to go off risking everyone's lives and permanent records."
She saw something odd in the look the twins shared as she said this, but it was gone in half a second, indecipherable.
"Depends on where you're getting your information from, doesn't it?" George argued, "Swot like you, isn't citing your sources what it's all about?"
For a moment, Hermione could feel her mouth working, and her face began getting warmer as the window for clever response began slipping away –
"Hermione's right, boys," said Percy, stepping into the group from behind his father, "It's common knowledge that Knockturn Alley houses the highest concentration of illegal and otherwise dangerous markets in the country. If you were really interested in seeking out credible sources to support the public image than it wouldn't be hard to find them." He pushed his horn-rimmed glasses further up his nose and Hermione pressed her lips together to hide a smile.
"It's good to see you, Percy," she said, holding out a hand.
"Likewise," he replied warmly, shaking it.
"Ugh, get a room." Fred groaned, rolling his eyes dramatically.
"Fred!" Percy and Ron reproached, in sync.
Hermione supressed a laugh. "You missed me," she stated, a little smugly.
"We missed arguing with you," George corrected, "and Perce has just ruined that."
"It was just getting good, wasn't it?" She mused.
"We'll pick it up later," Fred assured her. "Plenty of time." He smiled then, something more honest than the teasing smirks of earlier.
"I suppose so." And in a moment of weakness, she allowed herself to grin back.
Thanks for reading! As always, comments and critique are everything to me; I live in constant fear I'm disappointing you, so counteracting kindness is always appreciated :')
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