Oh wow! A new chapter so quickly! I am surprising myself.
Well, either way, here is the second chapter - please do enjoy. Usual disclaimer applies (no money, not my characters, large liberties ;) you know...)
Summer passed quickly, faster than Hermione had originally anticipated and she managed to sneak out on one day and go to the place that Headmaster Dumbledore had called 'Diagon Alley'. It was hidden behind a pub that had frightened Hermione at first, and hell she had been even more frightened when she had been inside, but luck had been on her side carrying the name of Tom.
Apparently he was the owner of The Leaky Cauldron and when he found her erring around in the pub he had first meant to throw her out again.
"Wait, sir, please I'm…" she stopped shortly and showed him the parchment that was her acceptance letter as well as the direction-giving letter from the headmaster, the landlord stopped immediately. "I'm searching for Diagon Alley, sir." She finished silently, hoping that her girlish features would be hidden by the boyish clothing that she had stolen – lent – from Hermes for this day.
Tom's eyes immediately lit up. "Well, look at this, are you here all on your own Mister… Granger?"
It was strange to be addressed as 'Mister Granger' but she figured that she best get used to it, seeing as from now on it would be her name, she was no longer 'Miss Granger'.
"Orphan, Sir." She shrugged her shoulders innocently.
Tom bought her excuse and found time to accompany her to the shops she was required to go, as well as to a Wizarding Bank called 'Gringotts' – apparently it was led by Goblins and she had to create a new account with Tom as her guarantor . Silently thanking Aunt May, she presented the small fortune she had accumulated over the last months in order to set up her account – it was enough even and after her obligatory school shopping, she would still have a little financial cushion.
"An' you know," Tom said when they came out of the Bookstore, "when summer comes and you get outa there, you can always come to me and I'll give you work, I'll even pay you a little and you'll be able to sleep at the Leaky."
"Really? You would do that, sir?"
Tom smiled at her, boxing her shoulder affectionately and grinned even wider. "Sure thing, lad, sure thing. Now let's get your wand."
Ollivander's – the wandshop – was the most magical place that Hermione had seen until now, it reeked of dust and of… magic. Ollivander himself was old and haggard looking, but his bright eyes that took her in drew her in equally and she smiled despite the tension in her shoulders.
"So, so… what do we have here, yet another one, isn't it, Tom?"
The landlord of the Leaky Cauldron smiled broadly. "Ya know, Oll' – picked this one up just today. Orphan the guy…"
Ollivander took her in with a scrutinizing look and Hermione could tell that he was probably debating whether or not she really was a boy, but until now no one had had the guts to really ask her - she would have denied it anyways - but she feared (for only a moment) that maybe Ollivander would be the first one to really question her.
The blue eyes of the wand-seller flickered on, and he nodded, shuffling to the back of his shop. "Humm, hum. Yes… yes, let's try this one."
When the old man reappeared, Hermione was presented a small wooden stick that gave off a strange vibe, but Hermione, bravely, still grabbed it, feeling it in her hand. It hummed strangely and Hermione's brows furrowed.
"Go on, go on, swing it a little." Mister Ollivander encouraged her and – still not trusting her wand – she swung the stick of wood.
On the counter next to the cashier, a stack of paper caught fire – Hermione watched horrified, before she caught her awares again. "Out." She managed and as quickly as the fire had begun, it was extinguished.
The wand-seller looked at her with big eyes. "A fire elementary, huh?" He cocked his head at her and neared her ever so slightly, taking her in from all different angles this time. She felt terrifyingly vulnerable under his gaze, but stood tall.
"Say, lad, how far can you go with those flames of yours?" Hermione was not sure what to say and instead swallowed, shrinking back just the slightest bit, but Ollivander followed her every retreating step. "Show me, will you? You can do no harm in here."
Hermione did not want to show anyone what she could do with her flames. Over the summer she had experimented yet a bit more and found that flames were controllable in small doses – she was able to extinguish the fire in the fireplace, she could equally light it. She had not tried larger doses of fire than that, she was not sure how much fire she could control.
Concentrating hard on the fireplace that she saw across the room, she ignited a roaring fire in it, smiling brightly as it started – gently she intensified it and lowered it again, before letting it soar a little higher and finally extinguishing it. To her surprise Ollivander smiled next to her as he looked at her again.
"Very good, young Mister Granger, I might have just the wand for you."
Ollivander retreated and came back with a dusty, dark green satchel that he carefully opened to lay the top on the counter. In it lay a beautiful, black wand and Ollivander instantly started rattling off the data to it – the information amazed Hermione to no end as she stared at the wand in wonder.
"Thirteen inches of ebony, with a dragon string core."
"What dragon?" she could hear Tom ask faintly and she turned her head just slightly to see both men equally.
"Icelandic Firecrow."
Frankly Hermione had no idea what an Icelandic Firecrow was, but by the way that Tom regarded her with a new glint in his eyes, she guessed that it was something special. When she took the wand this time, she was surprised just how snugly it fit into her hand, even though it was long.
"You look almost like a squire with the sword of his knight." Tom joked, and Hermione smiled good-naturedly at him. The wand did look as if it were too long for her, but Ollivander only nodded sagely.
"You'll grow into it, young man, I am very sure of it – if it is yours, wield it for me, will you?"
This time when Hermione flicked it, the magic pouring from it, neatly arranged all the boxes and satchels within the shop, even going as far as to remove all the dust in the shop – she was perplexed to say the least; Ollivander nodded sagely.
"This, young man, is indeed your wand. I shall ring it out for you…" While he waddled over to the cashier, Hermione started to count out the money, high with luck – she had a wand, she was really becoming a witch! She had just done magic! In front of other people! She was not crazy!
Tom bid her good-bye at the Leaky Cauldron, wishing her a good start in the year and gave her a hearty squeeze. "Come by as soon as you wish, if you owl be before I'll be sure to have something for you to work."
August 31 found Hermione unable to sit still.
"Will you stop your incessant hopping around?! This is no way for a young lady to behave! Still your limbs or I shall still them for you!"
But her father's words hardly reached her. Just a week prior she had received a letter with directions to the platform where her departing train would be waiting. Platform 9 ¾ - she would take the Hogwarts Express, but Hermione (being the thorough young woman she was) had already checked the train station King's Cross to see that there was no Platform 9 ¾, and the steward she had asked her to help had only yelled at her and shooed her away most rudely.
Her moods didn't dampen though, she was convinced that there was some magical way to get to the Platform, she just didn't know how… yet.
Over the last month she had sorted through Hermes' old clothes, even though she would be wearing her school uniforms at all times, she felt oddly naked without her 'muggle' clothes.
Muggle, she cocked her head, a strange description for those that were non-magical, she was not even sure where the word originated from… but maybe there were books on that. Oh she could hardly await to read all those books – already she had poured over all her school books, positive that she knew most spells by heart now, even though it was only in theory and according to law, she would not be allowed to perform magic outside of the school until she would be of age.
The world she was about to dive in was so full of exotic names and potions, spells and stories that Hermione could hardly wait to finally board the train and enter the school – whether she was a girl or not, she was firmly determined to get through her seven years at the boarding school and be one of the first witches ever.
She hardly slept at all that night, anxious not to miss the time when she would need to wake up – for she needed to wake up all on her own. There was not alarm clock that would wake her up, no mother, no nanny, no Hermes, she would have to do it all on her own. It would be her first autonomic step towards her future.
Just as the tower clock struck four in the morning, Hermione sat up in her bed as if she had been struck by lightning. Quickly she changed into Hermes' trousers, a chemise and a pullover, pulling a cap over her face for good measure as well, hoping to hide her yet slightly longer-than-average-for-a-boy hair.
Brushing her teeth quickly, she put the tooth-brush away in her backpack that she had hidden under her bed. She had considered the suitcase that Aunt May had bought for her, but had finally – after making a pro- and counter-list – decided that a backpack was the better decision. The suitcase would have been too heavy to silently carry down the stairs and silence she would need. She was used to carrying the backpack from the few pick-nick-excursions she had made with her family and had found that all her belongings well fit into her mother's backpack.
Hermione had, additionally, spent most of her time outside throughout the summer, running as long as she could and as fast as she could, even without shoes – seeing as the small heels her mother had insisted on were only hindrances and she would sure as hell no longer need them once she was out of this house.
In her backpack she had her Latin, French and Gaelic dictionaries that she hoped she would somehow be able to hide in the school, while she left the Encyclopaedia Britannica as a whole – it was too heavy to carry and Hermione was pretty much convinced that she would not need it in the world she was about to enter.
In exchange she had managed to put her small pewter cauldron into the backpack, as well as the books she needed, her uniform and a few changes of underwear as well as daily utilities and clothes, some more books, her wand of course, a winter cloak, extra boots and a few more folders, paper and quills.
She had practiced writing with quills all summer long as well, giving her best to be careless about her writing and soon adapted a very spiky, but readable script that all but flowed from her quills. Technically she was sure that she was as prepared as she could be to finally take the one road that would never lead her back to her muggle world.
As she bound her shoes – Hermes' old shoes – and holstered the backpack on her shoulders, she took one last deep breath, staring at her door as if to wait if it would grow jaws and try to snap at her, nothing happened.
Feeling slightly queasy, the young girl opened her door and tip-toed down the stairs – quite a feat, she conceded at the end of the stairs, seeing as the backpack was heavier than she had originally anticipated, but she bravely trudged through, ignoring her protesting muscles that were still young. There would be no whining, she had decided mid-way, about to give up and try a different approach, she would from now on have to hide the girl that she was and that meant growing some muscles, keeping up with the boys on her school, mentally as well as physically.
Being a girl by nature, she was aware that she might never be able to out-do her school-mates physically, but mentally she would still be able to out-shine them, still she had to perform to her best abilities, she needed to or she would be detected.
Now as she finally stood at the front-porch, silently closing the door behind her, she looked at the rising sun in the east. It could be dangerous for a young girl like her to be on her way at an early hour like this, but she had stopped the time that she needed to walk from her home to King's Cross and she'd be able to make it with ample time from now on. Enough time to figure how to get to Platform 9 ¾ ... that and the whole house was still asleep.
A gentle hoot drew her out of her musings. Craning her neck ever so slightly, she smiled at the barn owl that had, since the time the second letter had arrived, always brought her letters. Fishing around in her pockets, she drew out a small owl-treat that she had bought in Diagon Alley and the animal swooped down on her shoulder, gracefully accepting the treat and clicking its beak jovially.
"Well, pretty one, my journey will start here. I'd be delighted if you'd follow me... it makes me feel less lonely."
With another hoot the owl swooped up and Hermione watched her for only a second, before setting her eyes on the owl and forgetting her home. Small feet shuffled down the way, whiskey-coloured eyes only set on the owl that flew ahead of her.
Hermione Granger, eleven years old, left her home in the early morning of the 1st September, following the one barn owl that had delivered her one salvation from being caged in a world she hadn't chosen, following the one keeper of mysterious secrets to her new, magical world.
There you go, not a long one, I admit - but the next one will be on today/tonight as well, so keep your heads up!
And please review (thank you LabyrinthChild05, angel897 and toriashley for the encouraging reviews now that I mention it^^).