Thank you all for your kind words of encouragement. Also thank you for understanding that the updates will be few and far between, and take them as you can get them. Please excuse the typos and grammar. Its been a rough week.
~Alex
PS... I researched all of the wand lore on line from wiki. Not my ideas.
It was that dreaded day where Hermione had to make her way to Diagon Alley. She sat up through the night thinking of her mission, her stance in the scheme of things, and that professor. She was different than most, even Hermione could sense that but it was the way she seemed to look at her. Hermione inwardly shifted when the professor looked into her eyes as if looking for something not overtly there, as if trying to solve a riddle or at the very least piece together a puzzle.
Hermione sighed then stood and walked to the mirror of her rather spartan room and looked at her features. She was ordinary, or so she thought. She had high cheekbones, fair skin, and brown hair. Her eyes, those were the gates to her soul. They swirled with specks of gold in her brown irises, and she had to blink and shake her head to stop them from doing so. She inherited her father's features, the swirling depths of her eyes but the color, no, those were her mother's. Everything else was as if she was a female version of her father.
One more look and then she shut her eyes. She willed her body to shrink, and her hair to frizz slightly. She tried to make her body take the shape of an eleven-year-old. When she opened her eyes, she smirked and then frowned. She was smooth with her power, but she had to be after eons of living in the Realm. It would be a very strange shift to think of her talents now as magic instead of simple gifts to get her through her day, do her job, and live her life.
When she made it down stairs, she spotted Death sitting at the island in the kitchen with a wizarding newspaper and a spot of tea wearing a pair of black dress pants, black belt but a baby blue polo, with black loafers on his beat.
"Ah, you are ready then?" he asked as he put the paper with shifting pictures on the island.
"Yes, lets just get this over with," Hermione sighed already feeling the migraine coming from dealing with Death all day. Sometimes he was worse than the most uppity of fashionistas. Shopping with Death was not an hour affair where you go in and get out. Oh no, it was an all-day affair.
"Alright!" Death smiled as he snapped his fingers and all of a sudden, they were in the middle of Diagon Alley with people rushing by them. Hermione opened her mouth to warn a man he was about to barge into her but he traveled right through her. Death's hand was upon her shoulder as he guided her into a small side street and then released her.
"You are whole and visible now," he chuckled at Hermione's dirty look.
"It would have been nice to know that is how you were going to get us here. Besides we are supposed to be Muggles," Hermione shook her head and leaned against the wall taking breaths so as not to get overly frustrated with her father. She looked up and saw him chastised.
"I'm excited. I don't normally go out among the mortals, let alone magical folk. This is extraordinary for me. Let me have this for one day," Death explained and Hermione, with all her frustrations and grumbling, gave her father what he wished. A day of shopping and mingling, and sunlight, real sunlight.
Hermione and Death walked around and saw the sights. Joke shops, book shops, menageries, and of course wand shops and robes shops.
Hermione took death into Madame Malkins first so she could get the clothes shopping aspect of this out of the way. Once the seamstress fitted her robes and hummed that she didn't have to do many alterations and Hermione's order was set for pick up at approximately 3 that afternoon. Death had bought an entire wardrobe of robes. Hermione shook her head and smiled at her dad. Sometimes he was like a kid in a candy shop. When Madame Malkin saw his pile of clothes, she rushed to him and rang him up all the while paying special care to the gentleman who nearly bought a quarter of her yearly revenue with one purchase.
Death and Hermione walked to the bookstore with his parcels shrank. He explained to her he was a muggle and he would need to enlarge them once home. She sneered for a split second and then sighed with a smile. She cast a special charm that enlarged them when he took them out of the bag. Death smiled and thanked her.
"You know she hated that you were a Muggle, right?" Hermione asked of her father.
"Yes, but imagine what she would have felt if she knew she just sold robes to Death," he counted with an easy laugh. Hermione only shook her head and joined in his laughter. This was shaping up to be a great day.
Hermione looked at her list of books and placed them in a feather weight charmed basket and then perused the shelves. She found Hogwarts A History, and picked it up and leafed though it then put it in her basket. She saw more reference books on the origins of magic, old pureblood families, but one book caught her eye. Oldest instruments of magic. She shoved that one in her ever-growing mountain of books. Her father however got caught up in… oh gods. The harlequin novels section of the bookstore. She watched him with a rather plump redhead woman with shabby clothes but a friendly smile as she told him of her favorite books.
"Dad," Hermione said interrupting, "I think I am finished. If I stay here, I might buy the place out," she said with a soft smile. It was not an entirely untrue statement. She saw many books she wanted to purchase and held back. Death smiled and nodded.
"Thank you, miss…" he said to the red head woman.
"Mrs. Weasley dear and it was a pleasure and don't forget these right here," she said pointed to his stack of books then looked at Hermione with a blush, "IF only my own children seemed to enjoy reading like yours. Will you be attending Hogwarts dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked.
"Yes, I will. I can't wait," Hermione said with a light to her face, "I hear Hogwarts has a very extensive library," Hermione smiled then looked to her father and then walked away toward the line to check out. She heard her father thank Mrs. Weasley and smiled when she felt him on her elbow.
"Nice selection?" she asked and then slid her eyes to her father and he grinned broadly.
"I think they will be great fun," Death stated as they went to the counter to buy their mountain of books.
After that it was the list of school supplies that wasn't too interesting, just a grab and go at the school supplies shop where Death gave her the money to get what she needed because he found some other place much more interesting. Something about jokes, and pranks, and Gilgamesh. Hermione smiled deviously as she knew her father's penchant for mischief and if Gil was on the receiving end then by all means she was happy to let her father go and get what was need to wreak havoc on the narcissistic ass.
Finally, Hermione found her feet taking herself down the sidewalk to Ollivanders. She sighed as she thought of how ludicrous it would be as Death's daughter purchasing a wand to do simple parlor tricks. She opened the door and a bell rang over her head and then she inhaled. She closed her eyes. The scent of earth and dust permeated the air with a hint of … spice.
"Hello! Be right there," came a soft voice from the back. Hermione waited patiently looking at the boxes upon boxes stacked behind the counter until a old man with white chaotic hair and a wise wrinkly face came into view. He smiled at her and clapped his hands and looked upon her.
"I am Ollivander and I will hopefully pair you with your wand today," he said as he tilted his head this way and that.
"May I ask why you are looking at me like that?" Hermione queried uneasily.
"Well, a large population of our young witches and wizards are teeming with excitement and overflowing with anxiety wondering what wand would fit them. You don't seem to feel that way," Ollivander stated.
"I am sorry I don't feel like everyone else," Hermione said trying to take the bite from her words, but she found the statement unsettling. What did this man know of her and her life? Nothing.
"Here try this one. Vine and Dragon heartstring," he took the wand and gave it to Hermione. A small swirl in the air made the man smile and then he nodded to a wardrobe as if to test it. Hermione merely flicked her wrist and it exploded.
"NOOPE!" he stuck his hand out as Hermione blinked at the destruction before her and gave the wand back. He went back and pulled another wand.
"Try this one," he said after he made the wardrobe whole once more. Hermione took the wand and then flicked her hand. The wardrobe disintegrated and his wall began to melt.
"NOPE NOPE NOPE," he said as she immediately put the wand on the counter top as if it burned her.
"I am so sorry," she gushed but the old man waved off her apology. Hermione looked at Ollivander and he waved his wand muttering something. She could only guess if was an incantation.
"You are quite powerful. Raw, untamable. Please child, place your hand on the counter and take a deep breath," he instructed and Hermione did as she was asked. There was a rustle from the right below the counter and his eyes narrowed. He bent over and with a swish of his own wand levitated the box onto the counter. Then he nodded to the box.
"Sir, why are you not going to touch the box?" she asked feeling her heart rate rise, and something she had not felt in centuries bury its self in the pit of her stomach.
"Because I can't. That wand in that box will only let the true owner even touch the box," he said to Hermione with his eyes wide as she reached out to the box. Her hand hovered over the box.
"Didn't you make this wand?" she asked.
"Yes, but the wand is a bit temperamental. I think it is because of the core I used," he explained. Hermione tilted her head but took a leap of faith and trusted the old man before her. She touched the box and felt nothing. They both looked around and then Ollivander nodded to the box silently begging for her to open it. Hermione swallowed and opened the box. Inside on the box lay a plain stick about 10 inches long. Nothing, not even engravings or stylist carving adorned the wand. She reached in and took the wand in her hand. The air swirled once more.
"What exactly am I supposed to be able to do with the wardrobe, Sir? So far all I have done is destroy your cabinet," Hermione asked looking at the wand in her hand.
"You will see," Ollivander said with an old soft smile. Hermione nodded and lifted her hand. Ollivander blinked as Hermione took a breath and flicked the wand at the wardrobe. Her breath caught as it turned into a long-leafed plant. She giggled. Hermione actually giggled at the plant and then turned to Ollivander and found him smiling broadly.
"That is Pine and Kneazle hair core. 11 inches and as I have said, temperamental. Pine wands always choose an independent, individual master who may be perceived as a loner, intriguing and perhaps mysterious. Pine wands enjoy being used creatively, and unlike some others, will adapt unprotestingly to new methods and spells. Many wandmakers insist that pine wands are able to detect, and perform best for, owners who are destined for long lives. The pine wand is one of those that are most sensitive to non-verbal magic. You may have a destiny ahead of you," he educated Hermione on the wood.
"What about the core?" Hermione asked gazing at her new wand.
"That's where I am at a loss, and one reason why I think it is temperamental. Kneazle hair was used. It isn't particularly powerful, but you performed brilliantly with it," he gushed softly.
"What is a Kneazle?"
"It is a magical beast similar to a large cat or a small tiger. They choose their owners, and bond with them immediately if they like you," Ollivander informed.
"So, my mysterious wand with a cat hair core likes me and that is why we will get along. I love cats," Hermione said with a bright smile. Ollivander could not help but smile in return.
"It explains why it works brilliantly for you. May I?" I asked for the wand to be placed in the box and wrapped up. She gave the old man her Galleons and walked from the wand shop. She shook her head. How can a stick with cat hair as a core make her feel so much more at ease, and dare she say more powerful, than she felt in a very long time? She was brought out of her musings with a push to her side but she looked around and found nothing.
Immediately she was on alert. She looked around and saw nothing except for a shimmer out of her eye that slipped around the corner and into the alley between buildings. She followed the optical shift and felt the air sucked from her lungs. Down the alley stood a brunette woman, gorgeous with pale skin, ruby lips, and look of… satisfaction. Hermione's world narrowed, as if zeroing in on the woman. She grinned then nodded. Without a sound she was gone and left her with a wisp of a wind.
"Mother," Hermione whispered.
A pressure fell to her shoulder and she whipped around and shoved the presence into her wall pinning it to the wall. All of a sudden, the world came back to her. Green eyes bore into hers and Hermione quickly stepped back but never took her eyes from those green depths.
"I was making sure you were alright, but I see I need not have bothered, Miss Granger," the woman stated as she straightened out her robes and hat.
"Yes, well grabbing unsuspecting children by the shoulder in alleyways is not to most appropriate ways of getting their attention Professor," Hermione jabbed feeling the earth slightly shift beneath her. Professor McGonagall and Hermione stared at the other, challenging the other.
"Shall I take you to your father. I saw him in a sweets shop back done the way," Professor McGonagall offered with a wave of her hand as if asking Hermione if would be alright to escort her to her destination.
"I am perfectly fine finding my way Professor," Hermione said as she walked by then paused, "but thank you for your concern," then she passed the Professor noting her narrowed eyes. She felt the older witches gaze upon her back as she continued to walk in the direction the older witch indicated.
Hermione refused to turn around. She refused to give the woman the satisfaction. When she located her father, he was delightfully munching on chocolate frogs and examining cards that came with the packages. She sat with him and sighed.
"I saw her," Hermione said closing her eyes as if to ward of a headache. The air around her became chilled and she opened her eyes and saw her father's demeanor had changed. No longer was the happy go luck curious man from a moment ago. Here at Death, and Hermione nodded at his silent question.
"I am fine but it was a shock," she stated putting her father at ease.
"I should have warned you that she would find you, but I didn't think it would be on your first day in Diagon Alley. We should go my dear," he said and extended his arm for her to take. Once around the corner Death slipped them through the fabric of the world and into their muggle living room.
He left her with questions as he excused him self to the Realm. One important question was as glaring as rays of the sun off chrome metal. Why did her mother show herself? What did she want?