The following day was fraught with emotion and filled with awkward silences. Hermione had laid awake in her bed yet again, though this time through sadness rather than nerves. She had argued fiercely with Ron that helping Severus was the right thing to do, but her revelation of the potions lab had gone down like a lead balloon, and after only a few hours she was beginning to doubt her decision. He'd called her a stupid girl for "pursuing a job she clearly had no skill in" and all of a sudden she was transported back to her school years, weeping silently over every A on her potions essay. She wanted to be more than Acceptable.
The only positive thing to take from the morning was that Severus managed the travel to Diagon Alley without vomiting. That and, true to her word, their arrival was not met with any reporters or photographers.
Their first appointment was with Madame Malkin - admittedly not Hermione's favourite person in the world but there was no disputing the quality of her garments, and Severus needed brewing robes. It was not a pleasant experience, however. Despite being fully aware who she was measuring for when she agreed to open early, the seamstress treated Severus like dirt on her shoe. She wouldn't speak to or acknowledge him in any way, instead directing all questions through Hermione. The enchanted tape measure worked quickly to take his measurements but she flinched every time it went near his left arm, as if the Dark Mark was a virus that might contaminate her shop. Hermione said nothing in his defence, despite noticing the standoffish manner of the shop owner - it was childish but she hoped he would be as upset as she had been.
Hermione paid for the garments (which would be owled to her by the end of the week) then they set off to Ollivander's. To Severus' surprise, a young man stood behind the counter who beamed the biggest smile when they entered the shop.
"Gavin Ollivander," he introduced himself and held a hand out in offer of a handshake greeting. Severus didn't accept.
"How's your Uncle doing, Gavin?" Hermione enquired.
"Same old, good days and bad days," Gavin answered.
The magic in the air of the shop was electrifying and with the anticipation of holding a wand, Severus didn't even mind the young man circling him and sizing him up.
The first box plucked from the shelf was a Hawthorn wand with Dragon Heartstring core, rigid and 11 inches. With the little Severus knew about wandlore he thought it might be a good fit; adept at curses and could easily be turned towards the Dark Arts. But the moment his fingers closed round the wand the lights went dark and a cold breeze whipped through the shop, a storm from nowhere. Everything felt wrong.
The young man in the shop kept approaching one shelf in particular, then hesitating and turning away. But after failing with 4 further wands, the man relented and picked the box he'd been considering all along muttering "I wonder…"
He presented the wand to Severus.
"Pine wood paired with an unusual core - thestral tail hair. It's not often used as it tends not to suit young wizards or witches because, rumour has it, it can only be mastered by those who willingly accept death."
In an instant Severus had a flashback to that night in the Shrieking Shack, when he had been summoned before the Dark Lord he knew how the encounter would end. He had no plans to survive the Battle regardless of which side won; the Light would never accept him after his betrayal, but he had no desire to live in a world ruled by The Dark Lord.
Sparks flew, and a shiver spread down his spine as the wand reignited his magic once more. The binding and acceptance was instantaneous and a small flame that Severus didn't even know remained in his heart was lit once more. Before he even knew what was happening he looked at Hermione with a brief look of gratitude, before the steely expression returned once more.
Back out on the street of Diagon Alley, it was starting to get busy with Sunday morning shoppers and both started to feel a little uneasy as if all eyes were on them. As much as she'd have loved to look round Flourish and Blotts, there was one more stop they had to make before heading home - and by now Severus had had his fill of public interaction.
"We just need to go and register your wand at the Ministry," she said, leading him away from the gathering crowds. "It's a condition the ministry set, they didn't want you having a wand at all to be honest, so this was the only compromise I could think of."
Back at the Ministry the same burly Auror from yesterday met them and immediately took Severus' wand from him. If you can imagine what it feels like to be submerged in ice water then that was close to how Severus felt having the comfort ripped away from him.
"Full restrictions then, Miss Granger?"
"No thank you, Auror Hawkins. As agreed with Kingsley please just prohibit the Unforgiveables and a tracking charm." It never hurt to drop names in the Ministry, and referring to the Minister by his first name was a power move that Hermione reserved for only special situations.
"But Miss Granger, not even offensive hexes?"
"He's not going to hurt me," she countered, whilst thinking silently - not with his want, at least, words were a different matter.
The man eyed Severus suspiciously, probably wondering how someone could have such unwavering trust and faith in a proven criminal. And truthfully, Severus wondered much the same. He'd never been kind to the girl, and had gone out of his way to make her school life terrible. He'd killed - and not just Dumbledore - but countless muggles and muggle-borns. He'd turned a blind eye to the rape and torture carried out as sport by the other Death Eaters, he never participated but he felt equally as guilty. He was the very antithesis of what Hermione Granger was - she was courageous and he was a coward, she was surrounded by friends and he was a loner. She was good and he was evil.
The wand was returned to it's owner, much to Severus' relief and they set off for "home" - not that he would ever be seen dead calling it that. He was exhausted after such a busy morning (comparatively busy when he'd spent the last 5 years in a cell, occasionally pacing the 3 metre square space) yet it was only just approaching 10am. As soon as they entered the house he started up the stairs.
"You don't have to spend all the time in your room, you know. I was going to put the kettle on and make a cup of coffee, or tea if you prefer, and sit with a book for a while. I promise I won't talk to you," she added with a little bit of humour and, if one looked really closely, you might have noticed a small smirk on his face. "Besides, the sofa must be more comfortable than sitting on your bed all day. I promise I won't make small talk."
He contemplated for a second then responded, "Coffee, strong with milk and one sugar," before turning into the lounge and taking a seat on the sofa. He concentrated deeply on the book he'd seen yesterday and summoned it from the shelf, letting it land softly on his lap with a quiet thump. It was the simple things in life, but his first piece of magic in years and it felt like he'd never been away. Hermione re-entered the lounge to find him smiling down at the book in his lap.
"Here's your coffee" she said, placing the mug gently on the table beside him. "I know I said I wasn't going to talk - and I won't chit chat, but I just wanted to let you know you've got a visitor coming this afternoon."
Surely it was too early for the Ministry to be making a visit? He'd only been released yesterday and they'd seen him this morning anyway.
"If it's Potter or Weasley tell them not to waste their time."
Hermione giggled, "It's not them" - though Harry had expressed an interest to see Severus at some point, she thought now was probably not the best time to mention this - "It's someone I'm hoping you'll be pleased to see, but they want to surprise you so they asked me not to tell you who."
"I hate surprises" was his response.
A/N - I have to say I really enjoyed writing this chapter. All wand research comes courtesy of Harry Potter Wiki.
Now, who do we think the visitor is?