Beta Love: Thank you Kate for enduring my endless punctuation errors in this chapter... You're the best! Disclaimer: HP is the property of JKR, and I just make waves in the pool from time to time.
A/N: Here you go lovelies. Let me know what you think! ~VerdeVeritas
Chapter 8 Skills and Implementation
They Flooed into Ollivander's, arriving in a back room which was connected to the small tea parlour she'd been in just a few days ago to discuss her adoption. "Right, well, first let me get the store opened up and then I'll get you settled in to learn the basics," Ollivander said cheerily.
"Oh, let me help you. Do you have a morning routine?" Hermione asked.
"Not really. I do most of the maintenance after closing so in the morning I can open up immediately," he explained.
"Makes sense. I wouldn't want to get up much earlier, either" she said with a chuckle. "I'm not much for early mornings, as I'm sure you've learned. Best not to talk to me until I've had some coffee, else I get a bit grumpy."
"That's quite alright. There isn't usually anyone in the store before eleven, anyway," Ollivander chuckled. He moved through the dark store with practice, flicking the lights on so Hermione could see at last. She didn't know how he could possibly find his way around all those boxes, but she knew she would fall flat on her face had she tried.
"I'll get the sign and windows, while you do whatever else you need," Hermione offered. She walked to the front of the store, pulling the heavy curtains to the side to let in some light, and flipping the sign to "open," before joining her grandfather behind his counter.
"Can I ask a question?"
"Hmm? Of course, you're going to be taking over for me one day, after all," he replied with a smile.
"Is there a reason all of these wands are just sort of…stacked? I mean, do you have them organized a certain way, or is this just how they've come to be over the past two hundred years?"
"Oh, well yes and no. See, you'll learn as you try to fit someone with their wand, that you'll want to be able to see a clear path to those that might match a witch or wizard's magical signature. I'm sure there is probably an easier and cleaner way to do it, but this is what's worked best for me. I found stacking them on shelves resulted in torrents of box avalanches…"
"Ah, okay that makes sense. I'll think about it. I'm clever, you know?" Hermione teased.
"There was a time when it wasn't so cluttered, but there are several wands in here which have been around for a hundred years or more waiting for their match. Wands choose the witch or wizard, as you know, so it isn't like I can be rid of them. Their time will come."
"I think I can help you come up with something, if you wouldn't mind me meddling in your shop."
"Not at all! Please, if it makes it easier to walk around in here, and to clean, I would be most grateful."
"Then I will think on it further and figure out how to assist," Hermione said with a grin. "Now, Grandfather Ollivander, impart to me your knowledge!"
Ollivander's eyes widened almost imperceptibly at the title, but he said nothing. He smiled at his granddaughter, technically great-granddaughter, but that is too many syllables, and motioned her ahead of him toward the back of the store again. "So, you wouldn't have noticed when you were back here a few days ago, but there's actually a work room off of the parlor that we use."
"You mean the red door which says workroom on it?" Hermione queried. She had noticed it the other day, she just hadn't known she wasn't supposed to.
"Ah, interesting. Had you said something about it I would have known you were Ollivander by blood. That door is warded against anyone who isn't family. Sirius or Remus would not have been able to see it. It's interesting you could see the door, but that I had to adopt you for you to receive the inheritance. Of course, by interesting I mean that it's got me quite miffed. You were already family and yet unrecognized by the Ministry because of an archaic law."
"My sentiments, exactly. Give me time, I'll fix it," she said with a grin. Hermione Granger-Ollivander was no ordinary witch, to be sure.
"After you, my dear," Ollivander insisted with a chuckle.
Hermione opened the door and paused. She knew now why the shop seemed so small up front. The work room was enormous. It was stocked with an amazing amount of raw materials. Hermione could see all different kinds of wood cuttings, dragon heartstring, a small amount of phoenix feathers, some unicorn hairs, and what looked like a number of experimental components. There were two workbenches, with runes inscribed into the top of them for what looked like safety and containment. She would have to study them more to be certain. The walls were lined with shelves of ingredients that went from floor to ceiling.
Hermione walked in slowly to what she could only call a laboratory, but it was definitely not for potions or Muggle research. This is where wands had been made for over a hundred years, and she was ready to learn more about it. She knew she would have to start at the beginning, as she had with everything else. However, getting a rudimentary hold on how they were created could help Hermione to set her enchantments on the wands in this shop. Enchantments which would disallow the use of the Unforgivable curses, and likely save so many lives.
She turned to Ollivander with a wide smile, "Where do I start?"
"Well, I'm going to teach you how every Ollivander has been taught. Firstly, please hand over your wand. We won't be using wands in here. Wands are actually made wandlessly, with willed intent. To use your wand while creating a wand would leave too many impressions on the ingredients. It's a bit hard to learn, but, it's worth it in the end for so many other reasons. Learning to wandlessly cast and direct your magic has a lot of uses."
Hermione handed her wand over to Ollivander, who frowned a bit when he touched it.
"What is it?" She asked.
"I think we might need to find you a new wand, as well. You've about outgrown this one," he said matter of fact.
"Well, I'm over seventeen. I've been dealing with a thing or two since I got my wand so I suppose that would make sense," Hermione mused.
"We'll see to it we've got you a proper fit before you go back at the start of term. In the meantime, this is where we keep our wands when we come in here," he said gesturing to wand holders next to the doorway. Hermione simply nodded as he secured them, and waited for him to continue.
Walking over to a workbench, he took a seat and motioned for Hermione to do the same.
"For the time being, you'll need to read through these texts, but never take them out of this room. They're warded and attached to this space for their protection. A lot of this is theory, a lot of it is about specific components. Start with the top book and work your way through them. You can take notes if you like," he said motioning to a stack of parchment, "though I would prefer you encoded them so they can't be read, if you decide to take them home to study or with you to school."
Hermione nodded her assent. She could understand keeping secrets, she had been doing it most of the past six years.
"Are you able to perform any wandless magic, or should we start from the beginning there as well? I know it's not often taught in school until much later," Ollivander asked.
Hermione smiled at him widely, motioning with her hand silently causing the first book to levitate open in front of her, and setting it to hover in midair. "I've always been able to do this. I don't know if it's because of the accidental magic I commonly exhibited, or if wandless magic simply comes easily to me. I'm aware a lot of magical folk can't do it at all."
Ollivander smiled at her again. "Then you've already got a head start. I'll leave you to study the materials. Since you're already able to do wandless magic, you can try to do as the texts instruct, as you come to each instruction. These books are set out in the order in which you should learn them."
"Thank you. Let me know if you need any help out front," Hermione trailed off. She'd already pulled parchment and a quill over and began taking notes. Her newly found grandfather felt a smile tug at the corner of his lips, and he left her to work in peace. He had the distinct feeling things were changing all around him, and that witch was at the epicenter. She was bound to do great things, and he wasn't about to stop her.
He was certain at the rate which the witch devoured information, she would have many questions for him later. He set a timer to go off around lunch time, in the hopes she would emerge to eat with him. Even here, he had heard of Hermione's study habits. Despite the fact she was beginning her studies several years later than she would have if she'd been raised at Herrenhaus, he had very little doubt Hermione would make quick work of it.
Ollivander left to mind the storefront while she delved into years of family wand lore. Grabbing his wand from beside the door, he was once again reminded she would be needing a new one. While it wasn't uncommon for a growing witch or wizard to outstrip the wand they'd first purchased, it wasn't usually until after their graduation they sought him out. Their magical reserves weren't cemented until after reaching the age of majority, though he did recall Hermione mentioning she was almost seventeen. It would make more sense then, that her magical core had grown, expanded, and otherwise matured. Not to mention, she had been through quite a lot in her short time in the magical world, and with the loss of her parents, it wasn't an impossible conclusion she'd be in need of a new wand. Such emotional upheaval could affect the use of a wand, much the same as it could change a Patronus. He would need to ask Hermione about that later, he mused. Perhaps if she could cast a Patronus before, and cast one now, he could see if the forms had changed.
Garrick Ollivander's morning passed slowly, more slowly than it had seemed to the day before. Perhaps it had to do with knowing there was a witch who was hard at her studying in the work room. It was an odd feeling not to be alone in the shop after so many years. He had once been used to the joking and teasing of his sons in this shop at all hours. They would come and go, but there always seemed to be someone else around. After the loss of his family in the first war, he had grown accustomed to being alone. He decided the company was not unwelcome, by any means. He simply had grown used to being lonely. Indeed, it may be why there were so many wands stacked up against the walls, having thrown himself so heavily into his work to stay occupied. Yes, the company would do him some good.
He'd had a few customers today, mainly first years on their way to Hogwarts. It wasn't uncommon to see a few so early before the start of term, but this was the precursor to the inevitable rush Diagon Alley was to receive in about a weeks' time. It would be good practice for Hermione to start trying to locate the appropriate wands, should she advance that far by then.
Just then, the timer sounded on his wand. He sauntered to the front of the shop to flip the sign to closed. He would have normally just worked through his lunch, but having been warned by Sirius and Remus, thought it more prudent to force the voracious witch to take a break. She had apparently been skipping meals, and he would see to it the witch was cared for.
Ollivander entered the work room to a scene he hadn't entirely expected to find, but he was surely pleased to see. Hermione had already gotten through the first text, and was trying to finish the second. He'd only left her alone for about three hours, and she hadn't come to ask him any questions. After she finished this one she could start to deconstruct wand components provided she retained them.
"Hermione?" he ventured.
"Hmm?" she mumbled distractedly.
"Why don't you pause there, so we can go and fetch something to eat?"
Hermione didn't respond, instead finishing the paragraph she was on and turned to smile at her grandfather. "Honestly, I'm famished. What did you have in mind?" She smoothed her robes as she stood, intent they not be wrinkled from her hours of studying. She had ink stains on her fingers, but that wasn't new.
"What are you in the mood for?" He asked with a smile.
"How about some Italian?"
"That works for me. Come on, I know a great place."
Hermione followed Ollivander to the Floo grate which he motioned her into first, before dropping some powder and speaking distinctly, "Zabini Manor!"
Hermione startled, shocked that they would be going to Zabini Manor. Didn't her grandfather understand that they considered her Muggle-born, and beneath their notice? They were as likely to kill her as they were to feed her! Before she could voice her trepidation at the location, they were already being whisked away in green flames. "I hope they don't kill me on sight," Hermione thought to herself ruefully.
In a few short moments, she was stumbling out of the grate at Zabini Manor. Hermione didn't know what to do, so she shot a wary look at her grandfather, intent on following his lead.
"Hermione, you're not a Muggle-born, anymore? Remember?"
"Indeed, she never was Garrick! You never told me you had a long lost relative!" came the sound of a woman's voice from the hallway. Hermione looked over toward the voice, seeing an older witch, likely in her sixties. It was hard to gauge the age of a witch or wizard, given the magic inside them slowed the aging process. She was older though. She had a few wrinkles around her eyes, and she had smile lines. Her hair was starting to go grey, and she moved a little slowly.
Hermione wasn't sure how she felt about that. She knew her magical signature had changed as part of the adoption, but she was raised partly in the Muggle world, and she wouldn't be forgetting that or her parents.
"Well, Gabby, had I known she wouldn't have been lost!" Garrick teased her.
"Too true. Hello Miss, I am Gabriella Zabini. I've known this lout since our time in Hogwarts together," she said warmly.
"Erm- Hello. I'm Hermione Granger-Ollivander. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance,' Hermione replied politely. She was thankful her mother had insisted on manners. "Please call me Hermione."
"Then you must call me Gabby," the witch said warmly.
"Hermione, Gabby was a few years below me at Hogwarts, in Slytherin. She will make you some of the most delicious Italian food you've ever had. I come here to visit a few times a week, and beg her to feed me," her grandfather smiled at her reassuringly. Hermione took comfort in the fact he'd known this witch for many years.
"Would you be related to Blaise Zabini by any chance?" Hermione wanted to know. Blaise had never gone out of his way to be rude to her, but he had certainly not been friendly.
"Oh, he's my grandson. He's actually here with some of his friends as a last hurrah before they go back to school," she commented lightly. "Come with me, you're all skin and bones girly. You need a good meal."
Hermione looked at Ollivander, wondering who else she would be dining with today. She knew it was going to come out eventually, so she may as well get it over with before the term began. She shrugged at her grandfather, who offered his arm. She tucked her hand delicately into the crook of his elbow and held her head high. She was suddenly awfully glad she had worn proper robes today, not that Dotty would have allowed her to leave the house in anything else. She was a pushy elf, but she had been educating Hermione on some Pureblood customs that she was, unfortunately, going to benefit from today. She hadn't seen the point in learning them at the time, but she also hadn't considered the society in which her grandfather kept himself. She knew he was a member of the Order, so hopefully, these people weren't all bad.
As they followed Gabby through the large doorway, and into the opulently decorated hallway, Hermione couldn't help but look around. The landscape she saw through the windows she passed was definitely not that of Britain.
"Where are we?" She queried.
"You're in Italy, dear. Feel free to come with Garrick when he visits. You could do with some more sun," the witch offered sweetly.
"Thank you, Gabby," Hermione said, not accepting, but acknowledging the invitation. "You have a beautiful home."
As they neared what must be the dining room, Hermione could hear several boys being quite loud. It sounded less like a fight, and more like the good-natured teasing she was used to hearing in the Gryffindor common room. Well, that's a bit disconcerting, but I suppose a teenage boy is a teenage boy no matter his house, she thought with a mental shrug. She could definitely make out Blaise's voice. It was hard to miss. He was one of the few people who could manage to keep up with her intellectually, aside from Draco Malfoy and some in the Ravenclaw house. They'd occasionally been paired with one another in classes, and though they'd not made much small talk he could easily keep up with her thought processes.
"Boys! Quiet down, we've more guests for lunch," Gabby remarked upon entering the room. All three boys stood up upon her entrance and proclamation.
"I thought I had heard the Floo. I'm sorry, Nonna, I should have gone to greet them," Blaise offered.
"Nonsense, Blaise. I took care of it," Gabby replied as Hermione and Garrick entered the room behind her. "Allow me to introduce Garrick Ollivander, and his granddaughter, Hermione Granger-Ollivander," Gabby motioned with her had in their direction, and at the mention of her name, all the eyes of Blaise Zabini, Draco Malfoy, and Theodore Nott swung to her. Malfoy's eyes narrowed, as if he could see into her very soul. He was, of course, suspicious. Blaise seemed shocked at her presence, while Theo remained unreadable.
She watched the three wizards in front of her take in her appearance. Her unruly curls had been once again tamed by Dotty, falling in gentle rings down to her bum. She had figured out that letting her hair grow was just better for maintenance, as the weight helped. She was dressed properly and comporting herself like any other witch who would normally run in their circles. Likely, they didn't know what to make of her now. Honestly, Hermione didn't care about their personal opinions, but knew it would behoove her to act the part now. It was better for her plans.
She knew who their fathers were. They were all Death Eaters, and these were all Death Eaters in the making. She didn't want to dine with these bigots any more than she wanted to be rude to her Grandfather or Gabby. Hermione fought to keep her face impassive. She refused to give them anything to use against her. Grandfather took over for her from there, sensing her unwillingness to progress further into the room.
"Hello lads, it's good to see you again. I believe you are all in the same class as my granddaughter, here, correct?" The three boys nodded in affirmation. "I hope you don't mind us crashing your lunch. Hermione wanted some Italian today, and she's been hard at work," he said cordially.
"Not to worry, Garrick. You're always welcome here, as is Hermione. If the boys cannot behave, I'll be kicking them out," Gabby threatened. She was rather displeased at the lack of manners these boys were showing the young lady. She'd had a fair hand in raising Blaise, as his mother was often too busy gallivanting around with her newest beau to raise a child. She narrowed her eyes at her grandson, quietly conveying her distaste for his lack of politeness.
Blaise caught her look and snapped to attention as if out of a daydream. His Nonna was not to be trifled with. "Welcome to Zabini Manor. Would you like to come sit with us?"
"Thank you for your hospitality, Mr. Zabini, Gabby," Hermione replied, keeping as much inflection out of her voice as possible. She had known in the back of her mind she would be expected to rub elbows with some of these people, but this was a bit of a trial by fire. She hadn't had nearly enough practice, and Dotty had only been able to squeeze so much into her. They'd had short lessons, but the elf did not tolerate anything less than perfection. Hermione was grateful for that now. She was not about to let any of the Slytherins before her see the fear she was feeling on her face. She didn't doubt her Grandfather would protect her, and of course, she had her wand with her, but there was something so surreal about standing in this dining room. Draco Malfoy had been a particular nuisance to her over the years, and she would not be turning her back to him at any point, regardless of her escort.
"You're very welcome, Miss Granger-Ollivander. Please take a seat wherever you would like. Nonna tends to serve everything all at once," Blaise offered.
Hermione nodded and allowed her Grandfather to pull her to the chair directly next to Blaise. He pulled the seat out for her and sat next to her. This put her directly across from Draco Malfoy, of course. Theo was sitting across from Blaise. Once she had been seated, the wizards in the room took their seats as well. If they're this stuffy all the time, I will not be coming back, she thought to herself ruefully.
"Would you like something to drink, Miss Granger-Ollivander?" asked Blaise. "We won't have the wine paired until we know what Nonna is making for us, but we do have water and any other assortment of juices and teas."
"Tea would be lovely, thank you," Hermione replied automatically. She hadn't even considered asking after more coffee, though she could definitely use some.
"Granger wants coffee, not tea," commented Malfoy. Hermione felt her eyes widen infinitesimally before she could control her face. How does he know what I prefer to drink?
"Oh, we have a very good espresso, if you'd like that?" Blaise offered instead.
"Yes please. I've had a busy day," Hermione remarked politely. She gave a curt nod across the table to Malfoy, which he did not return. "And it's Granger-Ollivander, though I suppose that's rather a mouthful…"
"I'm afraid Draco has been referring to you as simply "Granger" for far too long to change that habit," remarked Blaise. Theo had still not said a word, though he shot an amused smirk at Blaise at the comment.
"It's too long. You're Granger. Or Ollivander. Pick one, both names are too long," Draco drawled.
"Better make it Ollivander then," Hermione said politely. It was also the longest of her two names, and she knew it would irritate him.
Settling the napkin in her lap primly, she took the shot of espresso Blaise was handing down to her. "Do you take any cream or…," but before he had finished, she'd thrown the shot back and the espresso was gone.
"Who in their right mind would ruin espresso with cream or sugar?" she remarked blithely.
"Someone who doesn't know its purpose," commented Gabby. She was levitating their meal into the dining room from the kitchen with ease.
"Too right," Blaise agreed. He watched as his Nonna sat down garlic bread, lasagna, fettuccine al burro with crab meat, a large salad, and soup on the table.
Hermione smirked in his general direction, eyeing the food being set down in front of her. She was doing everything she could not to look Malfoy in the eye. She was uncomfortable in his presence, and had been since she'd met him. That didn't stop her from wanting to deck him like she had the year previous, particularly as he always watched her. She didn't understand it. She was also fairly sure she didn't want to know. Hermione snapped her fingers, using wandless magic to send salad to everyone's plate. She was learning a few things from Dotty.
"You're getting better at that," commented Grandfather with a smile. She could hear the pride in his voice.
"Yes, well. It helps when you've received proper instruction," she commented slyly. Garrick simply nodded and touched his nose. A sign they'd discuss it later, no doubt.
"Thank you, dear," Gabby said sweetly. She levitated the wine down the table, asking indications of who would want red or white. Hermione wanted white wine because she was determined to have the fettuccine for lunch. It looked and smelled amazing. Besides, red wine always managed to give her a headache. She would much rather not have one while trying to work this afternoon.
Hermione mostly ate in silence as Malfoy, Zabini, and Nott discussed the upcoming World Cup. She had virtually no interest in Quidditch. The only reason she knew as much about it as she did was because Harry played. With Gabby and her Grandfather pulled into their own conversation, Hermione ate in silence, rehashing what she had read that morning mentally. Her mind was never idle. She had a wonderful ability to tune out the world when she was deep in thought, and she didn't hesitate to do so now. She kept one ear on the conversation in case she was mentioned. Unbeknownst to her, the conversation had shifted to that morning's Daily Prophet.
"Hello? Granger?" Hermione's nose scrunched up in irritation at the sound of Malfoy's voice pulling her out of her mental review.
"It's Granger-Ollivander. How can I help you Malfoy?" she asked levelly. She had not intended on engaging overlong with any of them.
"I asked if you had read the Prophet today?"
Hermione looked up at him from her plate to find him eying her critically. "Not today's. I tend to avoid it anyway. Skeeter is horrid," she replied flippantly.
"You're certainly right about that," commented Theo. Hermione looked at him and gave a small nod.
"What's of interest in it today?" Hermione asked, in what she hoped was a pleasant enough voice.
"You. They covered your adoption, and Skeeter apparently dug deeper to discover you already had Ollivander blood," summarized Blaise.
"Oh, how wonderful. Skeeter actually reported the truth for a change," Hermione stated sardonically. Theo stifled a laugh at her dry humor, while Blaise and Draco openly smirked. The witch had nothing but disdain for Rita Skeeter, and it was well known throughout Hogwarts. No one could really blame her. Skeeter had been known to poke her nose where it did not belong.
"I've been rather busy. Grandfather has a lot to teach," she supplied.
"The gist of it is that you've been adopted and are poised to inherit Olivander's Wand Shop. It went a bit into family history and how it was discovered you were of the bloodline," Malfoy summarized.
Hermione shrugged, "It's probably not all true, but the general gist seems correct. I'm sure she added some sort of scandal to sell papers," she commented, taking a sip of her wine. The table was shortly cleared of their salad plates and the soup appeared in front of them.
"She can't help herself," Theo commented levelly.
"I don't doubt you're correct about that," Hermione said, a smile tugging her lips.
"She was not very kind to Dumbledore," Gabby added in.
"I don't feel much sympathy for Dumbledore," Hermione commented, her eyes flashing and voice hardening. She was suddenly reminded of her theory that he'd known the whole time and was determined to use her as a token Muggle-born witch friend of Harry Potter. "He's a grown wizard, and I'm sure if I can manage her attention and ire, he's certainly able to."
She looked up from her meal to see Draco Malfoy's eyes flash in irritation while he scoffed. Whether it was at her, or for Dumbledore, she wasn't entirely sure. She also wasn't sure she cared. Draco Malfoy had not exactly been the bane of her existence, but nor had he been her friend. She didn't doubt he was feeling less than friendly toward Dumbledore, because he was a Slytherin. It was no secret Dumbledore was partial to Gryffindor.
"Well then, Princess, you might fit in better than you thought you would," commented Theo dryly.
Hermione only shrugged, unwilling to commit either way regarding her inclusion into the group of snakes she was currently in. "As long as you don't call me Princess, we might get along," she sniped back.
Garrick and Gabby chuckled to the right of her, and the rest of the lunch passed in a similar manner. They snarked back and forth at one another, ate a delicious meal, and said their goodbyes. The three Slytherin's promised to come to pester her in the shop next week, and take her out to lunch, much to her surprise. Though she didn't expect them to actually show up. She and her Grandfather took the Floo back to the shop, reopened, and Hermione spent the rest of the afternoon studying.
She had made it halfway through the third book before Ollivander came to collect her to go home for dinner. She was shocked to hear the Floo woosh again, almost immediately after they had arrived back home.
It seemed there was to be a standing dinner date with Remus and Sirius, and that was by far less fraught with tension than her lunch. Hermione told them about her experience at lunch. Her Grandfather and her adopted Uncles explained as best as they could the changes in the demeanor of her former enemies. Hermione was incredibly irritated that simply because she was now a known descendant of the Ollivander line, all descendants of the old school families were likely to treat her similarly. If only they were intelligent enough to understand the concept that if they treated all they encountered with such mutual respect, the Wizarding world would be less fraught in general. It wasn't hard to treat people with simple courtesy.
Hermione lay in bed, mind whirring with thoughts of all she had read today and all she had experienced. Life was never going to be the same, but she had known that as soon as she'd learned her parents had died. She would simply need to adapt and overcome, as she was so very prone to do. Hermione could not say she was looking forward to going back to school, but she would handle the stares much the same as she always had.
She had come home to post from Ronald and Arthur, once again extending the invitation to attend the World Cup with them, Harry, Ginny, Fred, and George. She thought she might go actually, but only if her Grandfather gave permission and felt she had advanced enough in her studies. She would need to ask him tomorrow and see about getting some hands-on training time with him. She knew he would likely become too busy in the coming days and weeks, with the start of term looming. Hermione let out a heavy sigh and closed her eyes. Her breathing evened out in a matter of minutes.