As it fell out, she was woken by Shy.

"Umm, Mistress. Mistress, wake up, please!" Hermione heard a small, whispery voice saying, as she felt a tiny hand shake her shoulder.

Still more than half-asleep, she took it in stride: "What is it, Shy?"

"Ummm... Ummm... Mistress can't experiment at school today, after all!" Shy's downcast eyes raised up a bit and met Hermione's bleary ones.

"What?" Hermione exclaimed as she sat up suddenly, which always made her dizzy. "Why not? If this is about Genius saying it's dangerous ..."

"No, Mistress, no. It's ... it's ... Happy Birthday, Mistress! You're eleven!" With that, Shy gave Hermione's shoulder a hug.

Eleven. Eleven what? Birthday what? Hermione paused. Then she struck her forehead with the back of her fist. Yes, it really was her birthday. And on her birthday ... "We don't go to school!"

"No, Mistress." was the soft reply. Hermione heard rustling as the others came awake.

"You won't wish to dishonour your parents' efforts by tiring yourself out, anyway, Mistress Hermione." When Plain talked like that, she was reminding Hermione of her manners.

New age, new you. Hermione had planned to start the Women's version of the Royal Canadian Air Force fitness plan. She felt the running in place would wake her parents, so after spending ten minutes on callisthenics, she left quietly for a three-block square walk, which should be about a mile. It took her about 20 minutes. After that, she showered while the dolls took notes on the first book. She didn't feel half as fatigued as she had the day before. Perhaps she was more used to it. She was also physically closer, being on the same floor. In any event, she felt refreshed and ready for the day. Which was, she recalled, two bookstores and a music shop.

Now, that was handy. One bookstore near the curio shop, one near "The Leaky Cauldron" - she was fond of Foyles on Charing Cross Road. She could happen to want to check if there were interesting books or music in the curio shop. Getting her parents into the Leaky Cauldron (assuming she wasn't dreaming or delusional and it actually showed itself) would be harder. She'd have to warn them that "Doctor Who-level weirdness" was going to be on display. Then come up with an excuse for getting into Diagon Alley and getting a wand. Again, given the Neverending Story Hypothesis was correct.

Before she went down, she reviewed the notes her dolls had taken. They were surprisingly long. It was basic reconnaissance, including information about Hogwarts, and more importantly, about buying books and wands.

Things (after her mother made an excellent breakfast, and Hermione opened one of her presents - fitness equipment. It was what she'd asked for and she hugged them excitedly) fell out roughly as she'd planned them. And not at all as she'd envisioned.

When she got them to detour to the front of the curio shop, it was boarded up, dusty and dingy. It looked as if it hadn't been touched in years. Her father recognized the shop after Hermione mentioned it was out of Dickens. "But what's upset you about this shop, Hermione?" asked Mrs Granger.

She had to cringe, then explain that she'd "misplaced" the curio shop where she bought the fantasy books she'd come home with the day before. She actually slumped down onto a box resting against the front of the shop. A newish looking box, a box with, yes, her name on it. Wearily, she stood up and opened it. As she did so, her father noticed the name on the box. Both her parents gasped.

Inside the box were three dolls. One had an enormous Afro hairstyle and looked vaguely non-white. Another had exaggerated buck teeth. The final doll had limp, scraggly hair covering one eye and most of the other, reddened one, had scratches on her face and was confined in a straitjacket. "Who would do something so cruel?" Mrs Granger asked her husband.

Hermione surprised them by carefully closing the box and putting it in the boot of the car after getting her father to open it. "Never mind," she said, "I can actually use these. And it's not the strangest thing you will see today."

Her heart sank, however, when, en route to Foyles, they passed … The Leaky Cauldron. There it was, and that meant she really was inside the books instead of outside them as she'd hoped. She had her father stop the car and told her parents the strange-looking structure across the street was a passageway to a very interesting shopping area.

Her mother kept anti-personnel spray in her purse, which she checked, and her father took a truncheon out of the glovebox. Nonetheless, they very sweetly humored her as she dragged them to what had to look like a shanty in a slum.

When "The Leaky Cauldron" finally appeared and they crossed the door, Hermione whispered fiercely to her parents. "No matter what you see or hear, say nothing, and do NOT look surprised."

Tom the barman was there, just as advertised. "Can you let us in?" Hermione asked him, bravely. "I need to get a wand today." Tom looked at her suspiciously but did as she asked. She first whispered to her parents to look at the wall for a dozen seconds, so they wouldn't gasp in alarm. She pulled them through the suddenly opened back part, then explained that they were intruding in a fantasy world, and thus discretion was of the utmost importance. They would have to go to Gringotts first, then Flourish and Blotts and finally Ollivanders. She didn't give them any time to think, but forged ahead pulling on both of their arms.

Her parents were growing both frightened and impatient, so Hermione explained a little. "This is all connected to the curio shop. However it does it, it's capable of playing games with time or worse."

"Young girls like you may take all this as a matter of course, Hermione, but this sort of thing doesn't happen in the real world," her mother said.

"There are more things in heaven and Earth, Mother," was all Hermione replied.

She instructed them to be on their best behaviour in Gringotts. They very quickly exchanged half her birthday money for Galleons, which turned out to be garish and not all that attractive. Their politeness drew a little attention to them and their clothing from the bigots, Hermione noticed, but they left unmolested.

At Flourish and Blotts, Hermione asked for the "standard first-year books" as well as books on Wizarding Britain history and culture. The first-year books were surprisingly inexpensive, so she had plenty of money left even after buying five more books. Of course, not being charged anything at the curio shop had helped immensely. It was part of the reason she believed the dolls weren't some sort of cruel jibe.

When they got to Ollivanders, Hermione had to warn them again. "He's going to sneak up on us and startle us. Don't fight it, don't overreact." And so it went.

After quite a few misses, she ended up with a vinewood wand, about eleven inches long, and with what the wandmaker said was a "dragon heartstring core." Well. Hard luck on the dragon, then. But she didn't wish to imitate the Hagrid oaf, so she decided to be philosophical: a dragon wouldn't turn down a human heartstring. She had a strong suspicion it would turn out to be the same wand - or as near as didn't matter - as the one in the book. Which was further evidence it was not a coincidental Hermione, but her that was having her future written in fantasy novels.

When they finally left Diagon Alley and were back at the car her father slumped in the seat and said, "I was sure I was having a heart attack."

They didn't say anything on their drive back home to prepare to go out to dinner. Hermione was on the edge of taking pity on her parents and suggesting staying home and eating takeaway when they saw someone waiting at their front door. Hermione heard her father groan, but she happened to be looking at her mother. Said parent looked back at her as if to say it was all Hermione's fault."I knew it. I should never have gotten rid of those books on the paranormal," Mrs Granger sighed.

Waiting there was what they now knew to be a genuine witch, pointy hat and all. And she didn't look happy.