A/N-Hey everyone! Here is the segment about Hermione I told you I was writing. I decided to post it here for now but I may move it later if needed.
Just remember that this segment isn't really part of the main story but it is connected in a sort of back handed way that only those I bounce ideas off of would know about. So I'm expecting a lot of "How is this relevant?" type responses. Just know that for right now, its really not but it may become so later if I can work it into the main story.
I really just wanted to write this segment and I'm trying to stay in a sort of writing mental space. So...hence this segment. Hopefully this will help get me back into writing more often. Hopefully...
Anyways, I hope you enjoy!
Diagon Alley was as lively as ever. Droves of witches and wizards migrating from one store to the next as everyone tried to procure the items the students of Hogwarts would need for the year.
One such group was a wide eyed Hermione Granger, her equally amazed parents, and Minerva McGonagall. The prestigious transfiguration professor was fulfilling her duty of introducing Hermione and her parents to the magical world and where to go to procure Hermione's future school supplies.
Following the seemingly strict woman, Hermione felt like her head was on a swivel as she tried to look from one place to the next, a slow rhythmic pounding gently filling her ears as she followed the professor into their first stop, an unorthodox looking building named Gringotts Bank.
Inside, Hermione met her first Goblin at the currency exchange window and smiled kindly at the creature.
"Hello." Hermione said excitedly to the disgruntled creature.
He gave her a slight sneer before turning his attention to the adults and Hermione shrugged the encounter off. If people could sometimes be nasty, so too could these beings.
Deciding that looking around would be more advantageous, Hermione began to roam a little away from the group as she took in the sight of the bank. With it's gorgeous high ceilings, stunning crystal chandelier, and high polished wood work Hermione was sure she had never been in a fancier building. Openly gaping at the beauty of the lobby, Hermione heard a soft grunt from a nearby goblin who was working diligently over an accounts book in a teller window.
"Go back to your group girl. Before they leave you behind and you become our problem." The goblin remarked rather nastily without looking up from his writing. Used to not being wanted, Hermione was going to ignore the creature when she stopped as she realized that the drumming she had heard in the busy street had followed her into the slightly less noisy bank. Trying to locate the source of the noise, Hermione wondered if maybe it was some sort of magic she could hear or maybe construction. It was only when she heard a small cough that she realized she had ignored the creature that had spoken to her and briefly panicked at her rudeness.
"I'm sorry. I don't mean to cause trouble. But can you hear that pounding?" She asked, earning a quirked brow from the goblin who's full attention she now had. Still nervous, Hermione rambled on.
"This place looks amazing by the way. I'm sure there lots of magic being used here since this is a magical bank. What is the magic equivalent to locks and security systems anyways? I want to learn all the magic I can, and this would be the best place to learn security magic right? The safest place in Britain." Hermione babbled before even quoting something professor McGonagall had said about the bank. The goblin regarded her closely now, weighting what she had said.
"You don't want to learn our magic girl. Wizards aren't interested is goblin magic." The goblin finally answered. It was Hermione's turn to quirk her brow at the creature.
"Why not? Especially if you are the best in the field. How do wizards claim to master a field if they won't learn from those who hold expertise in them?" She asked, which seemed to confuse the creature when a third voice joined the group.
"By believing they may know better or more then the Masters of ancient magic. As ignorant wizards often do." The strict voice of McGonagall cut in as she led Hermione's parents to their daughter.
"Only the wisest realize that humans have the worst understanding of magic and seek to learn from the masters of old." The professor added before bowing slightly to the goblin at the desk, who now had a toothy grin and returned the bow.
"I don't understand." Hermione broke the moment with a confused look. "If the masters of ancient magic have the best understanding of magic why aren't wizards learning from them?"
McGonagall gave Hermione a small smile before looking to her parents and then the goblin.
"The wizarding world, in many ways, is very archaic. I hope you will not come to understand how, but I have no doubt you will learn how in due time." The professor answered cryptically.
Still not fully understanding, Hermione went to question the professor further when her mother stopped her with a shake of her head. At least her parents understood what the professor was talking about and would tell her later.
"Come. We have many places to visit today. Good afternoon your majesty." McGonagall bid her farewell while the Granger's quickly followed her example and left the bank.
The goblin king watching the youngest of the group until he couldn't see her anymore, wondering the whole time if she had felt the magic pulses that had started a few minutes before and misunderstood them as Gringotts magic.
She was interesting for sure, for one so young to already be so attuned to the magic around her. And she wanted to learn goblin magic simply because she could recognize they were the best with protection magic. Very interesting indeed.
He would have watch that young witch's growth closely.
Once back in Diagon Alley, McGonagall took the group to their first shop, Flourish and Blotts, and Hermione forgot all about the drumming and her talk with the goblin as her favorite thing in the world opened up to her.
Books.
Not even fully over the threshold, Hermione almost broke away from her group again to explore when her father grabbed her arm to stop her.
Confused why her father had held her back, Hermione gave the man her questioning look which he responded to with an apologetic smile.
"Later dear. The professor doesn't have all day for us to lose you to the store." He briefly explained.
Understanding his logic, and the unspoken promise to come back when the professor was done with them, Hermione reluctantly agreed and held back. As the professor introduced her parents to the shopkeeper and showed them how to use their newly procured wizarding money, Hermione browsed the shelf nearest to the counter for an interesting read.
Settling on Hogwarts: A History, Hermione opened the book and tried to devour its contents. She found herself unable to focus though as the drumming in her head was now becoming loud enough to be at the forefront of her mind. And it was distracting her from her book.
Trying to push the noise away, Hermione focused intently on the book in her hands but despite the fact that she could easily read each word, she wasn't able to form a cohesive thought. Annoyed at her sudden inability to focus, she tried to double down on her efforts when her father tapped her shoulder and held his hand out for the book.
Once she surrendered it to him, he regarded it for a moment before adding it to the pile of books they were purchasing for Hermione's first year.
"Read it when we get home." He scowled her when she reached for the book and had the shopkeeper put it in a bag for him instead.
Borderline pouting, Hermione joined her mother and professor outside to avoid the temptation of picking up another book. The two women seemed to share a knowing smirk at Hermione's behavior before her father joined them and they all moved to the next shop.
Several hours later the group was nearly done for the day and Hermione seemed to grow more and more distracted as time went on. True, she was happy and excited to know she was a witch and finally have an explanation as to why weird things occasionally happened around her. And true that normally she'd be going full force to learn as much about this new world as possible, but since leaving Gringotts, Hermione couldn't get the sound of a slow rhythmic drumming out of her head or find it's source.
She had tried asking the professor about it but that professor had simply remarked that she didn't hear anything and that maybe Hermione was hearing her own heartbeat as she was obviously very excited. And that explanation might have worked if Hermione's parents weren't medical professionals that had taught their daughter how to measure her own heartbeat and rate. But they were and a quick check informed Hermione that this noise and her heartbeat weren't in sync so it couldn't be that. Ever curious by the mysterious noise, Hermione continued to look for it's source as the day wore on and her school supplies were bought.
Soon enough, the only thing left to buy was Hermione's wand and she still hadn't found the source of the noise.
Marching up to the wand shop, Hermione didn't notice when McGonagall stopped her parents from joining her and held them back.
"Selecting a wand is a rather personal endeavor. It would be best for Hermione to do this alone." McGonagall explained to her parents, who seemed to accept this as Hermione walked straight into the shop.
As soon as the door closed behind her, she was met by defining silence.
Shocked by the sudden quiet and the unnerving stillness in the shop, Hermione stood at the doorway before gathering her courage to speak up.
"H-hello?" She called nervously before a pale man with the lightest blue eyes she had ever seen shuffled around a corner.
"Why, hello young one. Here for your first wand I see." The man spoke softly, his voice deep and mysterious.
Spooked by his sudden arrival and ghostly appearance, Hermione just nodded slowly before the man put down a piece of wood he had been carrying and shuffled towards her.
"Let's see then. Which arm is your wand arm?" He asked as he pulled out a tape measure with silver markings.
Not sure what the man meant, Hermione stumbled over her words.
"I...I'm right...right handed. Sir." She finally managed to get out.
Nodding, the old man took her right hand and began to measure her from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and around her head. As he did so, he spoke and Hermione was hanging on his every word.
"Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and dragon heartstrings. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand." The man commented before tossing the measuring tape away and shuffling down a row of boxes.
"Now lets see which one calls to you…" the man said softly as he searched. As Ollivander was searching the shelves however, Hermione heard the drumming start again and instantly began to look around. It seemed the shop owner also sensed something as he stopped his searching and tilted his head Recognizing that maybe he heard it too, Hermione practically ran over to the man. Not caring if she was allowed amongst the shelves or not.
"Do you hear it too?" She asked as the man regarded her more intently now.
"It's been going all day and I couldn't find it in the other shops. And no one else seems to hear it but you." Hermione explained as the man's silver eyes bore down onto her.
Suddenly unnerved by the man's stare and aware that she may be where she isn't supposed to be, Hermione took a step back and lowered her head.
"You...you do hear it right?" She asked with uncertainty.
The shop owner only regarded her silently before walking briskly by her to the front of the store. Worried she may have insulted the man, Hermione hurried after him and tried to apologize but the man didn't respond to her as he was muttering to himself softly. When he got to the front of the shop, he picked up the piece of wood he had been carrying earlier before disappearing back into what appeared to be his office.
Walking around to the front where she should have probably been waiting, Hermione wondered if she should run for help from McGonagall or her parents. After all, the man seemed quite aggravated now as he tore apart his office and muttered. She was about to go for the door when he called out.
"Here it is!" Ollivander exclaimed before exiting his office with a long and thin wooden box in his hands.
Hermione noted that the drumming was back now and it seemed to be coming from the box the man was holding tightly as he slowly made his way to her.
"Go ahead." He said softly to encourage her.
Unsure at first, Hermione hesitated to open the box as the drumming grew faster but her curiosity got the best of her as she slowly reached out to open the hinged wooden box. The drumming increased it's tempo as she reached closer and the second she touched the wooden box a jolt went up her arms and made her gasp. But Hermione was too transfixed to stop now.
She opened the box, and as soon as she saw the wand within, everything went silent again.
In the box, on a royal blue velvet cushion was a light colored wood wand with vine carvings crawling up it's base to almost the tip. Touching the wood gently, Hermione felt a wave of warmth flood over her as a sense of completion filled her. She had to hold the wand and gently picked it up with both hands before it settled into her right hand naturally, as if it had been carved her hand alone.
Marveling at the wand, she barely heard the store owner when he asked her to give it a wave. Following his instruction out of habit, she obliged and watched in amazement as a spark flew from the wand to some nearby paper that folded up into origami birds that tweeted and flew around the shop.
"Fascinating. I haven't seen a wand react like that since… since Ranvier. Ranvier Syces. Interesting indeed." The man commented with a far away look.
"I'm sorry...but who?" Hermione asked, curious.
"An old customer." The man answered before seemingly returning to the present. "Nothing to worry about."
"The wand that has chose you is vine wood, ten and three-quarter inches, a dragon heartstring core. Well balanced but rigid. A very good wand." The shopkeeper noted before going to his books to record the sale.
"Your name please." He asked. "For my records." He clarified when Hermione withheld.
Deciding that just giving her name couldn't hurt, she obliged and gave the man her name.
"Thank you Mrs. Granger. You're wand will be seven Gallons please." The man requested as he finished recording the sale.
Too swept up in everything, Hermione just paid the man before putting the wand back in it's box so he could wrap it up for her to take.
It was only when Hermione had left his shop that Ollivander pondered. A muggle born witch who had been called to one of those wands. The old wands that had been in the family for longer then any living Ollivander could recall.
Just like Ranvier and his eldest.
Rubbing his chest gently, Ollivander knew an old mark was appearing magically over his heart. The proof of a promise long kept that had started to fade but was now going to be vibrant again. He knew what he had to do.
And so, Ollivander turned to his desk to begin writing a letter with only two lines on it.
Newly awoken to Hermione Granger. Garrick Ollivander
Hermione never noticed the owl fly off carrying a note with her name on it. All she knew was the drumming had stopped and the professor's obligation was now complete. Which meant her father had a promise to keep and the mystery of why the wand had drummed to her went unsolved for a few years as Hermione found herself devouring a new book in Flourish and Blotts while her parents read a muggle's guide to raising magic children in a corner until nightfall.
A/N- Well, I hope you enjoyed this segment.
If you liked this, let me know in the comments. Also, id love to hear of anyone's theories if they have any.
If you didn't like this, please tell me why. Constructive criticism is always welcome.
Thank you in advance.
Firemage
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