~Perfect Harmony~

Disclaimer: As you all should know, I do not own Harry Potter or anything related to it. This is all purely fan-made.

On with the story!

~Diagon Alley~

"Eliza, how are you?" Elizabeth Granger greeted her cousin with a warm smile and embrace before leading her around into the parlor. "Would you like anything to drink? Water? Tea? I could whip something up quickly before we…well…before we talk."

Eliza merely rolled her eyes at her eldest cousin and replied, "If it will calm your nerves, I suggest you brew some for yourself. As for me, I would love to see my darling little witch as soon as possible. Now where is Hermione?" No sooner had the words left her mouth than Hermione herself was bounding down the stairs and into Eliza's welcoming arms. "Ah, there you are, my dear! How have you been?"

There was not a second's delay as Hermione went off like a firecracker. "I've been great, Eliza! However I would love so very much for you to please explain even more about this new magical world to my parents and I." Elizabeth Granger could only stare at her daughter, once more at a loss for words as her husband walked into the room with a cup of coffee for both of them.

"Eliza," he grinned. "So good to see you again. How have you been?"

"I've been just fine, Robert. How about yourself?"

Robert Granger didn't beat around the bush. "I won't lie. I've been a bit confused with this entire magic ordeal. However, I am open-minded and have been looking forward to your visit as strongly as Hermione here. Now how about we sit down and get right to it before poor Lizzie has a fit of impatience." Hermione and Eliza both turned to see a bemused and edgy Elizabeth Granger.

"Oh, for goodness sake, Lizzie!" Eliza exhaled. "Will you always be this overwhelmed by change? I suppose we should get to it as you said, Robert." Everyone sat down, Hermione's eyes bright with curiosity as she leaned forward on the edge of her seat on the couch across from her witch cousin. Eliza took a deep breath, and then looked at the three of them. "Honestly, there's not much to explain. Your daughter has inherited one of our great ancestor's genes that allows her to use magic. Because she's been in the muggle world since she was born, her magic was dormant until recently. You should be thankful your child isn't an angry one, or else she might have burned your entire house down."

"Muggle?" said Hermione, quite sure she's never come across such a word before. "What exactly does muggle mean?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, dear," Eliza gasped, realizing she'd used vocabulary they weren't used to. "A muggle is someone who cannot use magic like we can. So, your parents are muggles. Your friends from school are most likely all muggles. Most of your teachers are muggles. Many witches and wizards try to keep to themselves so as to not alarm any muggles and expose them to the magical world. It's for everybody's protection, both magical and muggles alike."

"Eliza, where is this Diagon Alley that Hermione spoke of?" Robert asked, changing topic. He may be open-minded, but he still didn't appreciate a label being put on himself. "She told Lizzie and I that you were going to take her to Diagon Alley to collect her school supplies. We assume it's some sort of magical shopping center. After all, I'm sure there is no other place in London that sells things such as pewter cauldrons or books such as Grade One Standard Book of Spells." They all had a good laugh at that one. Finally, tension seemed to be dissipating in the room.

Standing, Eliza extended her hand to Hermione, who took it and stood as well. Then she turned to grin at her parents. Eliza pulled Hermione around the table to her side and looked at them as well. "How about I take you there myself?" Elizabeth and Robert could no longer hide their curiosity, and followed without another word.

Draco Malfoy stepped out of his shower into his lush, emerald green bedroom. He'd always been subjected to nothing but the best, thanks to his family name. Everyone respected the name 'Malfoy', though out of admiration or fear, Draco was never quite sure. After all, his father had always been very cold and intimidating. He wished he could say that his father was very warm and kind when it was just he and Mum around, but that couldn't be farther from the truth. He exuded power and held everyone at arm's length, outside and inside his very own home. It was no wonder Draco was always more than ready to be put at his mother's side. She allowed him a freedom no one else would.

"Young Master, your father bids me tell you he is growing very impatient and would like for you to please hurry down as soon as possible." Draco turned to see Dobby bowing his head so low that his long pointed nose scraped the floor.

"Oh, fine," Draco huffed, hurriedly throwing on his white button up shirt and black pants. Dobby bowed once more and disappeared to finish serving breakfast. Draco stared at the place where Dobby had once been and sighed. He had always felt sympathy toward the poor creature, Dobby the house elf. As long as Draco could remember, Dobby always held his head low and his eyes were dull. Draco could understand the elf's fear of his master, Lucius Malfoy. After all, Dobby had been ordered by Lucius to punish himself any time he even thought about breaking the rules, and Draco had witnessed Dobby put himself through horrid punishments such as ironing his hands until they were nothing but boiling blisters. Draco desperately wanted to order Dobby to stop, but Draco could not overpower the head of the house's orders. Sometimes he thought of setting Dobby free, but Dobby himself had said that only clothes presented by Lucius Malfoy himself would be able to free him. And Dobby was so caring of Draco Malfoy, telling Draco not to try anything or else he would risk facing his father's wrath. And so Draco sat idly by and watched the poor elf hurt himself over and over.

Putting the depressing thoughts out of his mind, he slicked his hair back to keep each and every single blonde lock in perfect place. Once he was satisfied, he quickly made his way downstairs to the dining hall, taking his seat across from his mother. As Dobby brought out his breakfast, Draco took a moment to look from his mother to his father, both with their heads down in silence. It was always like this, so cold and silent. He couldn't wait to get away in Diagon Alley, and let his excitement get him through the rest of the morning. He ate his eggs and bacon in silence, thinking of everything he wanted to do once he got there. He hadn't been there in quite some time. Over the years, they would always floo to Knockturn Alley where he would catch just a glimpse of the warm light that was Diagon Alley from the cold and dreary path he would always walk.

"Draco," Lucius spoke, wiping his mouth gingerly with his napkin. Draco and his mother followed suit, and turned to give the head of the family their fullest attention. "When we go there today, you will be on your best behavior. I expect you to get what you need, without dawdling on foolish things. I shall be taking care of some business whilst there, and I am sure that your mother will be quite busy as well. You are old enough to be on your own for a bit, so do not make a fool of me. Do not waste your time. However," he added. "If there should be someone you think may prove…useful to acquaint yourself with, I suggest you do so. Oh, and also." Now he looked his son straight in the eye and nearly spat, "Do not associate yourself with mudbloods."

Now Draco sneered and nodded. "I wouldn't dare, father." Mudbloods. How disgusting. It was the one thing he and his father wholeheartedly agreed upon, perhaps because it had been beat into him since before he could remember; they were foul beings. Who would ever want to befriend someone with dirty blood?

His father smirked then. "You truly are my son. Now let's be on our way. We have a busy day ahead of us, do we not?" They all stood together and followed Lucius Malfoy to the fireplace and one by one, they flooed their way to Diagon Alley.

"What is this place?" Robert wondered aloud. They were sitting in a rather dingy restaurant, watching as folk made their way in and out. A man sat at a table near them, twirling his coffee but it didn't look as though he was actually touching his spoon as he read his newspaper.

Eliza came over and sat down next to Hermione, who had been patiently waiting across from her parents as she watched the man. "This is the Leaky Cauldron," she beamed as though it was the most fanciful place she'd ever thought to bring them. Indeed, the name was very fitting. "Everyone comes here before and after their trip to Diagon Alley. It's not very classy, but it's casual. It's a place to relax and bond. Now, are you ready?"

Hermione jumped up in her excitement, but her parents stood at a much slower pace. "Eliza, what should we be expecting?"

Eliza bore a thoughtful look for just a moment before smiling at them and answering, "The unexpected." And with that, she started towards the back door, the others following in tow. They walked past the bar counter, and Hermione couldn't help but notice a very strange man with a purple turban upon his head. He seemed quite nervous but at the same time…she felt something sinister about him. She shook off the weird feeling, however, as she passed through the back door to a brick wall.

"It's…a dead end?" she tilted her head in confusion. "This is quite unexpected, I must say."

Eliza couldn't help but bark out a laugh. "Oh, darling! That's the beauty of magic. Not everything is what it appears to be." She whipped out a very pretty, polished stick and held it in front of Hermione. Hermione knew what it had to be instantly. "This…is a wand. Now watch, because this is how you will be granted access to the wonderful world of magic." Straightening up, she turned to the brick wall and began to tap the stones in a circular pattern. Hermione and her parents just watched in awe as the dead-end began to reform itself into a bright passageway. In another minute, they were looking at a brightly lit golden path filled with so many shops full of things whizzing by. "Welcome…to Diagon Alley!"

As soon as she'd spoke, Hermione's smile widened until she was sure she resembled the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland. She wanted desperately to run down the path and into every single shop there was to see, and Eliza could see right through her. And so, Eliza put a hand on her shoulders and led her down the road, beckoning warily to Elizabeth and Robert, whose shocked faces made them look like cod-fish. It was blatantly obvious that they were muggles. This wouldn't have posed much of a problem, except that Eliza had spoken to the bar tender at the Leaky Cauldron. Apparently, certain pure blood families had decided to choose this day as well to bring their little brats for their shopping. Eliza didn't want Hermione to be targeted for being muggleborn, and so she pulled them along down to Gringotts.

Hermione was in awe once again. The big white building was the largest in sight, with gargoyles and giant columns. "Before we enter, I need to make one thing perfectly clear with you three," Eliza warned, turning to look them all in the eye. "Gringotts is the most protected place in Diagon Alley. One wrong move and these goblins will throw you out on the spot. So be on your best behavior."

"G-goblins?" Elizabeth stuttered, suddenly very frightened. She'd heard stories of goblins before, and didn't like the idea of having to actually encounter one in real life.

Eliza smiled soothingly, for once understanding her cousin's fear. "Don't worry. I'll make sure we're in and out before either of you can say 'quidditch'."

"Quidditch?" Hermione repeated curiously, but Eliza had already made her way into the giant bank. Hermione hoped the goblins were friendlier than she had made them out to be.

Her hopes couldn't have been dashed more quickly. They weren't at all friendlier than Eliza had said. They were worse. It seemed all of them, Eliza included, couldn't have been happier to get away and into the bright and busy streets of Diagon Alley. "If I never have to go back in there, I won't be sad one bit!" Hermione exclaimed.

Eliza and her parents nodded in agreement. "I promise, that will be the worst part of your trip, so let us be thankful that part is over. Now, shall I show you the many wonders of the wizarding world?" Hermione nodded and linked arms with her elder cousin, and together they glided down the steps into much more pleasant shops. Elizabeth and Robert Granger stared at the pair before them in admiration and wariness, then proceeded to follow as they'd been doing since they left the house that morning.

"This is where we leave you, Draco." Lucius Malfoy stood in front of his son, staring up at the sign that read 'Madam Malkin's' before looking back down at Draco. "You're list of supplies are in your pocket?" Draco nodded. "Good. We hope you find everything you need, and then perhaps you can treat yourself to a few goods. But," he paused, making sure he had Draco's full attention. "If the list says you are not allowed anything, you will not get it. Do you understand me? It would be a nuisance to have the school write me whilst I was at work. You realize it would be an embarrassment to the family name, yes?" Once again, Draco nodded in understanding. "Good. Then I leave you both to your shopping. We will meet again at 6 o'clock right here on the dot. Do not be late." And then he was gone.

Draco wished to let down his façade, but they were in a public place and it was his father's will to keep up appearances as much as possible. His mother, however, flashed him a reassuring smile and suddenly he felt so much better. "Good luck, Draco," she told him. "I'll be just next door looking at some new book releases if you need me, alright?" He nodded and headed inside quickly to get fitted into his robes, thankful that his mother would be close by just in case he really did need her for anything.

"Hogwarts, dear?" Madam Malkin called over to him. She was a short witch dressed in mauve. As Draco nodded, she called over a different witch to pin him up. "Milda will fit you, sweetheart. Follow her into the back of the shop, please." Draco did as he was told, walking back with Milda who was a bit taller than Madam Malkin.

Draco Malfoy stood atop a foot stool as Milda began to pin him, falling into his own thoughts until Madam Malkin's voice traveled back to him. "Hogwarts, dear?" she'd said, just as she'd said to him. "Got the lot here—another young man being fitted up just now, in fact." Draco watched as she made her way back to where he was, a scrawny boy with messy jet black hair and bright green eyes in tow. She stood the boy on the stool next to him, slipped a robe over his head, and began to pin the boy as well.

For a moment, there was an awkward silence. Finally, Draco couldn't take it anymore, so he decided to stir up a polite conversation. "Hello. Hogwarts, too?"

The boy replied with a simple, "Yes." Nervous, much? Draco briefly wondered if he was some sort of antisocial brat, or perhaps he just wasn't used to talking to strangers.

For some reason, Draco felt the need to talk about his parents but he couldn't very well tell the boy what his father was up to. Before he knew it, he'd opened his mouth to speak again. "My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands." Draco mentally berated himself on that last statement. Only the one needing the wand could very well go in and pick one. Luckily, the boy didn't seem to catch it, so he went on. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow." Why did he just say that? There was no way anyone could bully Lucius Malfoy, and now Draco was a liar and he'd managed to make himself look like a spoiled brat. Eager to fix what he'd said, he asked, "Have you got your own broom?"

Again, the boy gave a simple answer. "No."

"Play quidditch at all?"

"No."

"I do." Now he was actually excited to talk about quidditch. He loved it. "Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree." After all, he thought smugly, I am one good Chaser if I do say so myself. "Know what house you'll be in yet?"

"No."

Draco was growing very tired of this conversation, seeing as it wasn't much of one at all. Still, he continued to speak if only to diminish the silence that would fall if he were to stop. "Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they? But I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have. Imagine being in Hufflepuff! I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?" The boy hummed a small "Mmm" in agreement, and Draco nearly sighed in disappointment. Then he caught sight of a giant peering in to watch them, and burst out, "I say, look at that man!"

Instantly, the boy turned and smiled for the first time since being in Draco's presence. "That's Hagrid. He works at Hogwarts."

"Oh," Draco frowned, remembering where he'd heard the name before. "I've heard of him. He's a sort of servant, isn't he?"

"He's the gamekeeper." The tone of the boy had changed the moment Draco had said 'servant'.

Draco didn't like it. With a sneer, he said, "Yes, exactly. I heard he's a sort of savage—lives in a hut on the school grounds and every now and then gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting his bed on fire."

The boy turned to him and coldly replied, "I think he's brilliant."

"Do you?" Draco was slightly taken aback that anyone would look up to an oaf like that. "Why is he with you? Where are your parents?"

"They're dead." Draco suddenly felt very awkward and wanted to sincerely apologize. However, a Malfoy being sincere and admitting such a small fault could be seen as out of character and perhaps even a bit soft. So he opted to just seem indifferent.

"Oh, sorry. But they were our kind, weren't they?" The boy said something about them being wizard and witch. Draco wondered just how daft the boy truly was. It was as though he had been living under a rock his entire life up until now, almost as though he were muggleborn. But he did say that his parents were magical so that couldn't be it. "I don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same; they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What's your surname, anyway?" It just occurred to the young Malfoy that he may be over-crossing his father's wish to only get acquainted with those he deemed necessary. The surname should help him make such a decision.

Before the boy could answer, however- and it didn't look like he really wanted to- Madam Malkin came and dismissed them. "Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose," the blonde smirked, happy to have made the scrawny boy uncomfortable. It's what he was best at when things weren't going his way.

He made his way down to Ollivander's to get his wand, wanting to hurry and get his hands on his very own as soon as possible. This was exciting for him. Having a wand was the first step to becoming a full-fledged wizard and he was more than ready to learn as much as possible. He stepped into the darkened shop and no sooner had he done so than he heard someone call his name. "Mr. Draco Malfoy, how good to see you." Ollivander came from around the corner, holding a wand out to him. "How would you like to try this one?"

Draco wasn't really sure what he was supposed to do, so he just held it and stared at Ollivander. "What now?"

"Just…give it a flick." He did so, and ducked as wand cases began to fall and fly past him. Ollivander took it and handed him a different one. "Er…how about this one?" They went through this same routine about five more times before finally, Ollivander said, "One last try, Mr. Malfoy. I'm sure this one will be it for sure." Draco was getting very tired of the nonsense. This wasn't at all the exhilarating experience he'd been thinking of when he thought about finding his own wand. But as he held the new wand in his hand, a sort of warm electricity ran throughout his body and he found that he liked it. He just stared at the wand in his grasp, then back up at Ollivander, who smiled. "10 inches exactly, that is rare." Ollivander nodded. "Hawthorn wood with unicorn hair making up the core. This wand is very pliant, Mr. Malfoy. I do hope you enjoy it, sir."

Draco paid for it without another word, twirling it in his fingers as he made his way back outside. As he did so—not paying much attention to anything—he bumped into someone and nearly dropped it. Angrily, he looked at said person and scowled. "Watch where you're going, will you?" What he was met with were bright, chocolate-brown eyes and the scent of honey. She wasn't very pretty at first glance, but there was something about her bushy hair that fit her perfectly. Shaking off the odd feeling, he rolled his eyes and continued on. One glance at her parents told him all he needed to know. She was a mudblood.

Hermione Granger stared at the platinum blonde haired boy who had walked into her, his wand in his hands. He must have been very excited for his wand as well. "I suppose I should have watched where I was going a bit better."

Eliza placed a hand on her shoulder and huffed. "You did nothing wrong, dear. Purebloods like him are raised to think we are the scum of the earth just because our entire family isn't of magical descent. Especially his family. The Malfoy's are the worst and little Draco Malfoy is the only son of the slimiest wizard known to mankind as of late." Malfoy...the name sounded oddly familiar. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched her father stiffen before making a humming noise-the same noise he always made when he had just put the pieces together. That's when she realized that boy must be the son to Lucius Malfoy, the oddly cold businessman her parents dealt with every so often. Who knew her parents had been working with a wizard right under their noses? Odd. Eliza shook herself of the negative emotions portrayed when speaking of the Malfoy's and smiled down at Hermione and then at her parents. "I believe Hermione shall be just fine getting her wand on her own, don't you think?" As both father and mother began to protest, Eliza pushed them along and called back at Hermione, "We'll be waiting in Flourish and Blotts, alrighty dear?" And then Hermione was alone.

Timidly, she stepped her way into the shop, wondering where the owner was exactly. "Ms. Hermione Granger," a voice called, making her jump. Out of the shadows came an old man with a rather pleasant smile. Something about this man was comforting, as though she had been around him all her life. She quite liked this.

"Are you Mr. Ollivander?" she asked.

He nodded, his smile as kind as ever. "I am, indeed. I presume you are here for a wand, no doubt? I have just the thing! Come, come. How about we try this one out?"

Hermione took it gingerly, staring at it and twisting it between her fingers. A zap of lightning came from the tip, nearly blowing away the poor man's eyebrows. Immediately she set it down and exclaimed her many apologies. Before he could say anything, however, her eyes fell upon a certain wand. It was a beautifully light caramel color, with pretty vines carved around it. It lay in an equally gorgeous box of velvet green. "Um, sir. Mr. Ollivander...would you mind terribly if I were to give that particular wand a try? Is that too forward of me?"

Ollivander stared at her for a moment, quite shocked that she had picked one at all. No one has ever asked about a particular wand before…not since Tom Riddle himself. And she seemed quite drawn to it, he could tell as her eyes never truly looked away from it. On top of it all, that particular wand had rejected every person known to touch it. He, himself, had been unsuccessful in taming it. Something told him, however, that this wand had met its match. Gingerly plucking it from its case, he placed it in her hands. No sooner had the smooth surface touched her skin than a warm wind whipped itself through the air. The scent of strawberries and caramel apples seeped through the air, and there was a look of astonishment on the little girl's face that could melt any heart.

"10 ¾ inches, made of powerful vine wood. Its core is the heartstring of the most powerful dragon I have ever encountered." Ollivander looked into this little girl's eyes and made sure she was listening. "Listen when I tell you something very, very important. Only a brilliant mind and a heart made of gold could tame a wand such as this. You, young lady…you will do great things in the coming future. Work hard, and never give up. Have hope in the darkest of times."

Hermione Granger, young as she was, understood enough to know that this wand was very powerful. Instead if becoming intimidated by its power, however, she smiled and accepted the challenge. "I will, sir. I will."

As Hermione Granger made her way back to the busy streets of Diagon Alley, Ollivander became lost in his thoughts. He knew there would be one person to come into his shop who would be destined for great things. He had no idea there would be two. Harry Potter, the boy who lived, a half blood, and Hermione Granger, a young muggleborn girl who managed to tame the most powerful wand in his shop…together they could be invincible. If they worked together, they would be working in perfect harmony.

The end of Chapter 2! Yayyy! I hope you all enjoyed it. Again, please remember to review, and all that jazz!