Today was officially the day. For months, countless books and accounts had been consumed in an effort to prepare for today's trip. Her parents were sitting in the front of the 3-series E36 BMW her father had bought the previous year. It was a delightful sky blue that was as close to periwinkle that she had ever seen on a car.
In front of her, her parents joked back and forth as they always did. She smiled to herself as she listened to her mother laugh at one of her father's terribly cheesy jokes. She couldn't even concentrate on any of the books she had brought for the trip!
As she was stuck with nothing to do other than gaze out of the window, she imagined what it would be like in a few months. Would she be flying a broomstick with a pointy hat? She wrinkled her nose at the thought – her feet would remain firmly on the ground if she had anything to say about it. If human beings were supposed to fly, they would have evolved to have wings.
Perhaps she would have a familiar? The most common, according to the literature she had devoured ever since her letter had arrived, claimed that a cat would be the most likely candidate. She hoped it wasn't a toad, or worse a rat. There was something decidedly underwhelming at the thought of having a pet rat.
Of course, they were adorable pets and she loved their little whiskers and tiny hands, but they hardly seemed magical.
She allowed her gaze to continue sweeping the various buildings of London as they passed by. London was such a fascinating city, and far busier than her own home-city of Reading. London was a city that had been home to Kings and Queens! She had read everything on the city she could, of course. When she had been told by that delightful professor that there was a wizarding district in London of all places, she absolutely had to learn everything she could.
Yes, Hermione Jean Granger was positively thrilled to be making this trip into London. It was a delightful Saturday, with just the faintest breeze to keep it from being stifling and it also happened to be the day she would finally be able to purchase her school supplies before she left for Hogwarts in September. She was practically giddy.
The slowing down of the car, and the unmistakable sensation of her father pulling into a road-side parking space had Hermione unbuckling her seatbelt in record time.
"Hermione, you stay right there until the engine is off, young lady." Her mother, the successful Dr Jean Granger ordered, her brown eyes trained on Hermione through the rear-view mirror. Her father, the equally well-known Dr John Granger, snickered from the driver's seat.
She pouted a little and began to chew on her bottom lip absently. Honestly, this whole parking-business was taking far too long. With a quiet click, and a rattle of keys, the engine cut off and she lunged for the door.
Opening it slowly and checking both ways for any traffic, she stepped out and smoothed down her summer-dress before carefully closing the door – careful not to close it too hard. Her father practically worshiped the machine. It was a side of him that she would never understand.
She skipped around the car, the soles of her shoes scuffing the tarmac with each step. She grinned as she stood expectantly before the passenger door as her mother stepped out. Her mother rolled her eyes, closed the door, and promptly began fixing Hermione's cardigan. Hermione rolled her own eyes as her mother began her worrying.
"Now, you remember to stay close to us while we're in there. This will be new to all of us, and I won't have you running off because you get excited. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, Mum." She replied automatically, already eyeing the gently swaying sign to the pub they had been told to look for.
"Don't make me put you on my shoulders." Her father threatened, his grinning expression betraying the joy he'd feel at being able to do just that.
"I'll behave." She replied in a small pout before grasping her parent's hands and dragging them towards the pub.
They followed with little difficulty and she soon found herself walking between the two of them. She had been so excited for this day for so long. For years she had retreated into books and stories for a way to escape a world that felt so mundane. She excelled in school and devoured the books she checked out from the library, but for all of that, there had been something missing. Some part of her that wasn't satisfied that the world around her didn't match up to the world she read and dreamed about her entire life.
Where were the adventures of brave knights? Of gallant nobles? Where were the likes of the characters that Jane Austen had written about? They were all absent, instead having been replaced by cruel children who mocked her for her bookishness, her wild curly hair and her teeth that were a little too large.
No, where she was going was for special children, who were no doubt just like her. It made perfect sense, after all. When she arrived at Hogwarts, she would be surrounded by fledgling witches and wizards all eager to learn and explore the mysteries of their magic. It was as if all her dreams were coming true.
Her father opened the front door and ushered the two of them inside. The room was like nothing she had expected. It was dark and grimy looking, with a single candle on each table and a large fireplace tall enough for a grown man to step into on the far wall.
That gave her pause for a second. The interior of the building was far too large for the dingy little pub-front they had just walked into. Was this one of the applications of magic? Could magic make things bigger on the inside? Oh, the possibilities!
All the eyes of the pub were on them now. Many were in odd clothes – large red leather coats that appeared padded with something or another, tunics that looked like they were lifted straight from a museum, and one elderly man was even sat in a corner in a set of full steel armour! In comparison, the Grangers must have looked delightfully odd to their eyes. Hermione had her periwinkle blue summer dress and a white cardigan over the top, while her father stood in denim jeans and a casual shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and her mother was in jeans and a t-shirt.
"Ah, can I 'elp ye?" An old man asked from behind the bar. He appeared to be positively ancient, but he held himself as if he were decades younger. Hermione noticed he was wiping a mug with a cloth.
"Just looking for some school supplies, if you wouldn't mind pointing us in the right direction?" Her father asked, placing a hand on Hermione's shoulder and giving it a casual squeeze.
"O'course, o'course! If you'll just follow me, I'll show ye the way." He replied in a friendly manner, grinning – at least that's what Hermione assumed he was doing. He gestured for the trio to follow him as he weaved his way around the bar and stepped over a sleeping cat the size of which she had never seen before. It must easily have been twice the size of a Maine Coon! It lifted its head up and lazily blinked its yellow eyes at her before laying down once more.
"Ah, don' mind 'im, little lady. Ol' Rupert is my pet Kneazle. Excellent judge o' character, he is. The name's Tom. I run this fine 'stablishment."
"Lovely to meet you, Tom." Her mother replied. A quick glance at the older woman revealed that she too was eyeing the feline with no small amount of fascination. "No, Hermione, we're not getting one."
She frowned slightly at that. "I didn't say anything!" She protested.
"No, but you were definitely thinking it." Her father chuckled as they stepped out into a tiny courtyard barely large enough to hold all four of them. Where was Diagon Alley?
Tom chuckled to himself as he withdrew a large stick from his pocket. Hermione's eyes darted to it instantly, watching every motion and brick that was tapped. As the barkeep began putting the wand away, the bricks began moving themselves away from a central point, rolling over one another in an organised chaos. When it was all done, they stood beneath a tasteful brick archway and Hermione gasped.
Spread before them was the busiest shopping district she had ever seen. Men, women and children moved around one another effortlessly in the great throng of people. From at the top of the alley, the sheer mass of humanity appeared little more than waves of colour.
Along either side of the wide street were brightly coloured storefronts. Some had large signs, such as Flourish and Blotts, Magical Menagerie, and Potage's Cauldron Shop – this one had a large cauldron above its front door that would occasionally shoot silver sparks out of it. It was all just so magical!
She grinned and looked at her parents, who seemed equally in awe of the street. Tom had disappeared while they had been staring at the new world before them. "Do you have the list?"
"The list?" Her father asked, confusion on his face as he snapped out of whatever thoughts had been running through his head.
Her mother sighed and rolled her eyes as she hooked her arm around Hermione's shoulders and began walking into the district proper. It was when they were a few steps into the 'alley', if it could even be called such a thing, that she noticed there weren't really any people wearing regular clothes like her own.
Were there not many witches and wizards like her, who came from families with no history of magic? She began nibbling her bottom lip as a few eyes were cast in their direction.
"The list of school supplies, John. Honestly, I don't know how you'd remember to comb your hair if it weren't for my lists." Her mother replied, causing her father to frown and self-consciously run his fingers through his thick, dark hair – though Hermione had wisely kept quiet about the occasional grey hair at his temples that had been appearing lately.
"That's why I married you, dear." He replied with a cheeky grin. A quick glance between Hermione and her mother, and both were rolling their eyes with smiles of their own.
"Now, what shall we get first? Your wand, uniform or your school supplies?"
"Books are going to be last, young lady." Her father interrupted as her mouth began forming the words.
She huffed and blew a stray strand of hair from her face.
"I think we should go to the bank first and exchange the currency." Hermione replied after a moment. "After that, I'd like to get my wand, if that's okay?" She asked shyly.
Both her parents nodded, and began moving towards the large white building at the far end of the district that had the words Gringotts Goblin Bank in gold above the entrance. In the late-morning sun, the words glowed with an otherworldly beauty that helped light the street up.
"Goblins, huh? Wonder what they look like." Her father mused as they approached the building. It was oddly shaped, in that it appeared triangular at the front and the supporting pillars that supported the entryway were slightly skewed. A pair of short, menacing looking guards eyed them on either side of the large glass doors as they held their halberds at attention. Were the guards Goblins too?
Hermione opened the door for both her parents, and all three almost missed a step as they took in the large room they had stepped into.
It was a large room, with huge mahogany benches lining the sides. All along the walls were large gold-marble pillars with a 'cracked' patterning which matched the walls perfectly. The floor was a white marble with dark accents, and above it all hung the largest and most gorgeous chandelier she had ever seen. It was then that she noticed the beings sitting behind those mahogany benches, scribbling away as men and women spoke to them.
"Well then, shall we find a queue and join it?"
She nodded at her fathers' question and joined the end of the nearest queue. While they stood there waiting patiently, every now and then taking a step forward, she allowed her eyes to properly inspect the people she would be surrounding herself with in the coming years.
There were all sorts, as to be expected of any society, she mused. There were the aristocratic types, brought scenes from Pride & Prejudice to her mind and even more ideas of nobility. Looking even further around the bank's lobby, she noted the plain, unassuming cloaks and tunics, and everything in between.
She watched one group stride up to a large gold-trimmed desk with an elderly looking Goblin. They spoke in hushed tones before they were ushered through a door behind the desk by another Goblin.
The Goblins themselves were fascinating creatures. They were short beings, if their size in comparison to the desks they were sat at were anything to go by, with domed heads, pale complexions, and long fingers. Their pointed ears reminded her of many fictional depictions of Elves, though much larger by far.
A gentle tap on the top of her head drew her attention to her father. "We're about to be seen. Just giving you a heads up."
She smiled in response, feeling the tension in her forehead lessen. She knew she had a habit of frowning when she was deep in thought, and it would do absolutely no good to have been lost in thought when it was their turn to be seen.
"Next!"
They stepped forward as one. All three peered up at the creature above them, who was busy scribbling something with a delightfully beautiful quill.
"Hello, we'd like to exchange some currency?" Her mother asked pleasantly. The Goblin paused in its task before peering down at them.
"And how much would you be interested in exchanging today?" Hermione noticed for the first time that Goblin's teeth were extremely sharp, especially when they grinned.
"One-thousand pounds." Her father replied, shrugging at Hermione's shocked expression. "We have no idea how much your supplies cost." He added in response to her unspoken question.
"Very well. That will be two-hundred Galleons, thirteen Sickles and eighteen Knuts. Take this writ to a teller on the far side of the room and you shall make the transfer there."
"Thank you." Her mother replied as her father nodded and accepted the parchment. They moved off as the Goblin called for the next in the line.
A few minutes later, they had exchanged the money and were making their way out into the alley when she saw the shop in the distance. Ollivanders – Wandmakers since 382 B.C.
"Can we get my wand now?" Hermione asked, practically bouncing up and down on the spot.
Her parents chuckled and nodded their heads. Immediately, she grabbed their hands and began marching them towards the shop with the red façade and large glass window.
They were barely ten metres from it when a man burst through the glass, accompanied by a brilliant golden flash. There were startled yells and screams all around the street as the man landed in a crumpled heap.
He was still for just a moment before he began pulling himself to his feet and dusting off the shards that had landed on his clothes. He seemed to be grumbling to himself, but the hands of Hermione's parents stopped her from getting any closer.
"I'm alright, I'm alright!" He called out at those around him. The glow from the inside of the store had disappeared now, and in the window stood three children and two adults, both of whom were laughing loudly while the children just stared with wide eyes. "Go about your business, nothing to see here, damn it." The man called once more to the lingering masses before re-entering the store.
Where the wand had appeared from, she had no idea, but with a few simple gestures, the glass was picking itself back up and clicking itself back together in moments. By the time the strange man with curly black hair was done, the storefront looked as good as new.
"Was that magic?" Hermione's mother asked after a moment of them standing there.
Hermione nodded. What else could it have been? She had to learn that spell.
"I bloody love magic." Her father murmured, before wincing as both mother and daughter told him to mind his language. Suitably chastised, he cleared his throat before saying, "Well, shall we get you your own wand then?"
They entered the store to see that same man, along with those she had seen through the window. The adults were still snickering while two of the children were gaping openly at the third.
The adults all looked different, though all three had the same emblem on their clothing. Clothing, which she realised after a moment was armour. She didn't know much about armour, but from the little she did know, they were wearing leather gambesons with a steel gorget – even the children were wearing armour, though theirs had a different design to the adults.
The adults had a silver serpent, while the brown haired, brown-eyed boy with chubby cheeks had a roaring bear, and the dark-haired blue-eyed girl next to him had a charging stallion. The third boy, who was still the subject of the other two children's stares had emerald eyes, black hair that hung to his shoulders and a prowling wolf stamped into the metal around his neck.
"I still can't believe you threw Sirius out of the window, Harry!" The chubby-cheeked boy gasped, jumping a little as the bell above the door announced their entrance. The girl in the group swept her eyes over her family quickly.
"It seems we have company." She said after a moment, her tone neutral. Both boys offered her a small smile.
Before she could say anything, an older gentleman ran back into the store with a wand held delicately in his hand. "Here we are, one Blackthorn wand with a Vinewood handle and a Phoenix tail feather core – very rigid in its flexibility. It was an honour to craft it, young man. I shall watch your career with great interest."
Hermione watched as the man with wild white hair, and thick bushy eyebrows reverently placed the wand in the green-eyed boy's hand. The second his fingers closed around it, she noticed everyone scramble away from the window before the room trembled with power. A wild wind began whipping at her hair, and she struggled to keep her eyes open as boxes were strewn about and papers were carried about. In the corner, a glass vial shattered with a small pop.
The boy was grinning as he tucked it away into his belt, the dark wood blending into the colour of his armour, while the handle's lighter colour stood out like a sore thumb.
Once the wand was sufficiently secured, the children were ushered towards the door. Hermione and her parents shuffled out of the way as best they could in the tight confines of the room, what with the shelves upon shelves that lined the walls, all with small boxes stacked haphazardly.
"A pleasure as always, Lord Black." The proprietor called, causing the eldest of the three adults to turn and nod in response. Lord? Were some of the peerage of Britain wizards? She didn't recognise the name.
As the group left the shop, with a little jingle of the bell above the door, the older man's eyes snapped to Hermione. "Ah, I see another young witch has come to claim her wand, yes?"
She nodded as an excited grin split her face. Her father chuckled behind her.
"Well then, we had best get started, hadn't we?" Hermione watched him as the eccentric man turned in a swirl of his burgundy coat and darted over to a nearby shelf before he carefully removed a box. When he returned, the box was open and he offered the small shaft of wood to her.
Her fingers curled around the wood delicately as she lifted it. After a quick examination of its mid-brown colouring, she held it and looked at it expectantly.
"Go on then, give it a wave, dear!"
Hermione blinked and did as she was told, wincing as a number of boxes flew from their shelves.
"No, no, that won't do at all!" The man exclaimed, taking out his own wand before casting some sort of spell to tidy the store. He darted off after a moment, before returning with a handful of new boxes.
One after the other, she tried them all out, giving the slightest flick only for some cataclysm to befall the store. Was she not supposed to have a wand?
"I believe that I have the perfect wand for you, my dear." The shopkeeper mused after a moment of quiet contemplation. She watched as he revealed one more box, this one a faded yellow as if it had been there for some time. "A fine Vinewood shaft, with a Dragon Heartstring core. An unusual combination, but one more suited for yourself, I would think."
She grasped the wand carefully, noting the similar colour to the boy's handle when he had stashed it in his belt. Was it the same type of wood? The wand in her hand was far simpler in its design, being a straight tapered shaft, though the elegant vines that spiralled from the base to tip were beautiful in their design. Her fingers gently traced the patterning.
"Give it a wave, dear." Her mother said, her voice encouraging.
Chewing on her bottom lip absently, she gave it a firm flick and couldn't help the excited grin on her face as that same invisible wind swept the store. Her thick, wild hair blew about and the candle flames that illuminated the store grew in brightness. The shopkeeper looked on, an unreadable expression on his face as the magic died down.
"Curious. Most curious."
"Curious?" Her father asked as she continued to look upon her wand. She couldn't wait to begin her schooling. If she had been excited before, it paled in comparison to the feeling of longing she had now.
"Indeed. It is most rare for a witch or wizard to have an experience like that upon meeting with their wand. As it happens, it has now happened twice in my shop today. We live in exciting times, it seems." The man shrugged, though a slight smile was on his face.
Another flick of his wand, and anything that had been left out from her experimenting with the various wands was neatly tidied away. Once done, the man hurried back behind his large desk and began scribbling on some parchment with his quill. "That will be seven Galleons." He said after a moment, looking up from his parchment and smiling.
Her father quickly withdrew the coins and passed them over the counter. She could barely stand still; she was so excited! Surely they would see that it would be best if she could go and get some books on spells now rather than later!
She looked up at her father, the question just on the tip of her tongue.
"Don't even think about it, little lady. If you step foot in a bookshop now, we won't have any money to get the rest of your supplies."
She pouted a little, causing her father to chuckle as he led them out of the store.
"We'll get your uniform next, and then we'll see to your class essentials, and then get your books. Maybe some mint-chocolate ice cream on the way home if you're lucky." Her mother said, her voice playful as she winked down at Hermione.
"Pretty sure the letter said Madam Malkins would be the place to go for that." Her father added, as they meandered along the street.
"Oh, so you do remember things occasionally." Her mother quipped, while Hermione rolled her eyes at the playful back and forth of her parents.
"I'm honestly hurt that you would think me so forgetful, dear."
Her mother made a non-committal noise in the back of her throat and shot her father a pointed look, to which he just grinned cheekily back. They had bantered this way all her life, and despite her exasperated outward attitude towards it, Hermione loved to see her parents laugh and smile with each other. She considered herself very lucky that her parents loved one another so deeply – she knew it wasn't the case for every child.
Whether it was by luck, or by magic, they stumbled upon the storefront that had Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions proudly painted above the door. In the large window were a number of outfits of all occasions – casual wear, formal and school wear – though there were apparently two different types of the school uniforms from what she could see.
On the far right were the clothes she could see being worn in nearly every other school in the country – both boy and girl's uniform stood next to one another. Did the store cater to more than one school? It had to.
They entered the store quickly, hearing the familiar jingle of the bell above her head. A woman's voice called out from the back, hidden among the many racks of clothes and partitions.
"Janet, dear can you get that? I have my hands full right now!"
"Yes, Madam." A second voice called. A moment later, a young woman stepped into view, a yellow tape measure hanging from her neck. She was a friendly looking woman with large square glasses and her blonde hair tied back loosely in a simple ponytail. She smiled at the three of them.
"Welcome to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. How can I help you today?" She asked, her hands clasped casually in front of her.
"Hogwarts school uniform, please." Her mother smiled in return, gently stroking Hermione's hair. Her mother had an unusual fascination with Hermione's thick, curly hair – she'd claimed it had reminded her of her own hair as a girl, until she had grown into the graceful curls that Hermione wished she had. As far as she was concerned, Hermione was all too happy to make the trade.
"Ah, of course. Your first year, I presume?" Janet asked, gesturing for the three to follow.
"Yes, I'm ever so excited." Hermione replied with a smile.
"I should hope so – magic is such a wonderful thing. Now, I assume you are a Muggle-born, correct?"
Hermione nodded. Professor McGonagall had told them what Muggles were when she had come to visit almost a year ago.
"Excellent, now if you would like to step over here, I can show you our uniforms."
As they followed Janet, Hermione caught a glimpse of the uniforms that looked positively normal for almost every other school in the country. There were racks upon racks of them, all hung based on size. There were trousers, girls pleated skirts, sleeveless and long-sleeved jumpers, cardigans, white shirts and blouses, ties, scarves and even winter hats. On the far end, she spotted what looked like large black cloaks with long sleeves.
"We'll get you measured quickly and then get you a little of everything for your school year, hm?" Janet asked as she pulled the tape measure from around her neck and directed Hermione to a small stool. "Now, I need you to stand straight for me and lift your arms out, there we go."
Hermione complied silently with the woman as she went about her work. The measurements were done in short order and before long, she was passed half a dozen shirts, skirts, trousers and a little of everything else. In the end, the pile of clothes in her arms were almost too high to see over.
"Now, Hogwarts has a house-system. When you arrive there, you'll be sorted into one of the four. Each house has its own colours, but don't you worry about that. The clothes are charmed to adjust accordingly based on where you end up." Janet smiled at her from around the pile. Hermione nodded and blew a cardigan sleeve from her face.
"Is this everything she'll need?" Her mother asked, while her father snorted somewhere in the background.
"Besides shoes and underwear, yes."
"Excellent, we can sort that lot out easily enough."
"Very well, are you ready to pay?" Janet smiled once more, finally taking the mountain of clothes from her arms. Her parents nodded, and her father playfully tapped her on the nose as he passed.
While her parents were busy at the counter, Hermione found herself being pulled towards the displays of the other set of uniform's she had seen in the window.
It was a decidedly odd uniform, though a part of her appreciated that there seemed to be no gender difference in its design.
It seemed to be made of a fine quality tunic, with long sleeves that seemed rather form-fitting, and a pair of dark trousers that again, seemed to be far more form-fitting than she would have expected. The large, knee-high leather boots had a number of silver clasps running down the sides. Over it all was a large sleeveless black leather coat with a flared collar that folded over itself, while the bottom of the coat came down just past the knees with some strips of fabric hanging from the inside. What school did this belong to?
"Hermione! Time to go!" Her mother called from the door. She smiled at the older woman and darted over to her.
"Where's Dad?" She asked, looking about for her father.
"Oh, he went to take the bags back to the car. Far too many for us to carry around, what with everything else we need to get." Her mother replied with a grin. It was an unspoken rule between her parents that her father would be saddled with all the shopping bags.
"Are we meeting him here?"
"No dear, we'll meet him in that shop across the way that sells trunks."
Hermione nodded, eyeing the store itself. While it wasn't painted the same garish purple as the store they just left, it was a decidedly odd shade of brown, which didn't seem to sit well between the bright green and bright yellow buildings on either side of it. She tried not to sigh. The sooner they got through these tedious stores, the quicker she'd be able to browse the books and read ahead of her classes for September. Maybe they had a book on the history of the school?
