A/N: I am on time! WAHOO! It's a bit of a shock really, seeing as this weekend was my birthday weekend. In a result of that, this chapter is just a wee bit shorted than the others, but I just couldn't put anymore in it. I have a bunch of plans for this story, but they all have their own chapters. Hopefully, you guys will like it regardless. Thank you Vincent, for finishing this chapter quickly so I could get it on here on time :]
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Enjoy!
-
Believe
"So give me something to believe
`Cause I am living just to breathe
And I need something more
To keep on breathing for
So give me something to believe"
- The Bravery (Believe)
Ollivander's wand shop was unlike any store I had ever seen in my life. When Harry opened the door for me, I was expecting some sort of - well, I don't know what I was expecting, but it was nothing like what awaited me on the other side of the door. The walls were filled with stacks upon stacks of narrow boxes all in a mixed method of organization that was barely distinguishable. Towards the back, there was a wooden desk with various piles of papers and what looked like antique quills.
"Mister Potter." A wispy voice spoke. I looked around, trying to distinguish where it had come from. I heard a light sound of rolling from behind the desk and saw a man atop a rolling ladder glide to the edge of the shelf a few moments later, answering my question. He had silver hair and wore similar clothing to those I saw on the street earlier. He climbed down the few steps from the ground and turned around, a smile on his wrinkled face. "To what do I owe this visit?"
"I'm here to help my friend's wand find her." Harry responded.
Okay, even though he's said several times that it was the wand that finds the wizard, I still can't get used to it. I think just the idea is enough; the speaking of it just ruins the magic. Pun intended.
"Ah, a late bloomer." The man said knowingly.
I didn't know how to respond to that. Luckily, Harry stepped in and kept running his mouth. "That's right. Think you can help?"
" 'Can I help?' " He quoted mockingly. He turned back around and disappeared down a narrow hallway. I looked after him for a moment before giving Harry a look.
"That's Mr. Ollivander." Harry said, as if it explained everything.
"But the sign outside said that they had been making wands since 382 B.C." I said cautiously.
"It's a family business, I suspect." He said. "But wizards do have very long life expectancies, so he very well could be the original."
"Well, we should ask him." I said excitedly.
"Let's not."
"Why not?"
"Hermione, we're here to get you a wand, not ask a kind man how old he is."
I nodded. He did have a point. "You're right. Sorry."
We both heard steps approaching and turned to see Mr. Ollivander holding a pile of the thin cases that lined the walls. He placed them on his desk and gestured for me to step forward. I did so as he removed the top off of one of boxes, pulling out a thin stick that looked like it had been cut and carved to be sold at an art show rather than a small shop in London.
He held out the stick to me and I quickly realized that the stick was a wand. It became very clear as I examined it closely that wands were far more than a slick piece of black plastic capable of pulling a rabbit from a hat. This piece of wood just looked powerful. It had an intricate design along the grip and was slick to the touch.
"Well don't just look at it. Go on and give it a wave." Mr. Ollivander said humorously.
I jerked back to reality and saw him and Harry looking at me expectantly. Startled, I waved the wand in what I thought was the appropriate manor and jumped when some of the papers that were atop Mr. Ollivander's desk flew off.
"Nope, not that one." Mr. Ollivander mumbled, seemingly to himself.
He plucked the wand from my hand and before I could unclench the grip I had in midair, placed a new one inside of the tiny hole my hand made. This one was darker in color and had no design at all. It looked to be a polished piece of wood with a painted handle. I waved it before either Harry or Mr. Ollivander had to instruct me so and felt a shock sting my hand so strong that I dropped the wand onto the floor.
"Hmm…" Mr. Ollivander mused. He bent over to pick it up and I massaged my hand tenderly, looking at Harry with wide eyes. He shrugged and I turned to take the wand Mr. Ollivander was handing me.
Within the next ten minutes, I tried over thirty wands. Each time I waved them, something destructive happened. They were all minor occurrences, surely, but still inflicted some sort of damage. After a while I began to grow angry.
"Well." Mr. Ollivander said tiredly. "Surely there is a wand here somewhere."
"No there isn't." I said helplessly, slumping to the ground. "It's hopeless. I'm not a witch, Harry. You've made a mistake in coming here. I'm sorry."
"Hermione, be reasonable." Harry said, lowering himself to his knees. "You're just a difficult half to complete is all."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked offensively.
"No! I didn't mean it like - Hermione, no wizard finds their wand on the first go."
"Really?" I asked. "How many tries did it take you?"
"Well, three, but that-"
"Harry, I've ruined Mr. Ollivander's paperwork, shocked myself, blown up three glass vases, a display case, and the last five wands have just made fart noises!"
"I know it looks bad, but we're not leaving until you find your wand."
"No. I give up. I'm not a witch. I'm just a normal state school student with magical affiliation and nothing else."
"Don't say that." Harry said pleadingly. "Hermione, I know you're a witch."
"How?" I asked. "Have you ever seen me do magic?"
"Well, no." he admitted. "But I can sense magic in you. I can see it in your eyes."
"See it in my eyes? Harry, you're beginning to sound like a cheesy book hero."
He shrugged. "Maybe I am. The point is that I'm not allowing you to give up. Mr. Ollivander, please go fetch some more wands for Hermione to try out."
"Right away, Mr. Potter." He responded before disappearing in the back for the umpteenth time.
"Hermione, look at me." Harry instructed. I looked up at him, but avoided looking in his eyes. "You're wand is going to find you, okay?"
"I still don't think that-"
"Hermione."
I sighed. "My wand is going to find me. Eventually."
He nodded. "Better."
He stood up and I heard his knees crack softly. He held out an arm for me to take and I did so hesitantly. I didn't want to cause any more damage than I already had, but apparently it was inevitable. All I hoped was that this was going to be well worth it in the end. Either that or Harry would accept that I was right, that I wasn't a witch, and we could return home.
"Okay, Miss Granger." Mr. Ollivander said from behind a tall stack of boxes. He set the pile down on the floor and smiled at me. "You are lucky it isn't the start of term."
I smiled back politely and watched him take another wand from its case. He handed it to me gingerly and I took it, half-expecting it to explode. But what actually happened was something else entirely. Instead of anything exploding, cracking, falling, or hurting me, I felt warmth fill my entire body starting from the hand gripping the wand down to my toes. Around me, a faint red glow appeared out of virtually nowhere, but I was too enamored with the wand in my hand to be concerned.
That was the first time I had felt magic run through me.
It felt as though something warm and pleasant was running through my veins at a million kilos an hour. There was no real way to explain the feeling that took over my senses from then on. The only way I can put it into any sort of word is by associating it with completeness. The wand made me feel complete. It was as though a new tier had been uncovered within my psyche that was previously under lock and key. From that moment on I knew what Harry and my parents said was true. There was something very different and special about me, something wonderful, yet scary at the same time.
I was a witch.
"Hermione?" Harry's voice was a dull murmur.
I turned around, acknowledging that I had heard him. He was smiling at me.
"Vine wood, dragon heartstring." Mr. Ollivander said fondly. "A very good fit for someone as hard to place as yourself."
I blushed.
"How much will that be, Mr. Ollivander?" Harry asked.
"Ah." He went around to his desk and fiddled around with the remaining papers on it. "That will be seven galleons."
I reached into my pocket and pulled out seven gold pieces and looked at Harry, who nodded that I had gotten the sum right. I promptly handed them to Mr. Ollivander and he thanked me as he wrapped up my wand and placed it in a mesh carrying case. I said the same in return and grabbed my new wand before following Harry out of the shop, though I still felt that I owed Mr. Ollivander an apology for destroying his store.
"Don't worry about it." Harry said, as though reading my mind.
"What?"
"First years getting their wands always mess up his shop one way or the other. He's used to it by now, I'm sure."
"Yes, but that doesn't make me feel any better for causing it." I said guiltily. "If I could just help him clean up a bit…"
"Hermione, we're on a schedule." He said in a clipped tone.
"We are?"
"No, not really." He said evenly, telling me that he was speaking the truth.
"Then why-"
Harry suddenly went rigid and looked around quickly. Before I could ask what was wrong, he shoved me into a nearby nook between two shops. My back collided with the brick of one of the buildings and I let out a grunt of impact. He pressed up against the wall parallel to mine and gestured to be quiet by placing his index finger atop his lips. I nodded and tried to read Harry's expression - it looked to be a mix between fear and anxiety. A sudden chill ran through me at the thought that something could have been after us back there. That certainly looked to be the case as Harry inched towards the road and peered left and right. Thankfully, he let out a large gust of breath and turned back to me.
"We need to get out of here."
"Care to share why?"
"I will as soon as we get back. First, we need to get back to the Leaky Cauldron as quickly as possible. Do you think you can do that for me?"
"Yes."
"Good."
We shuffled out of the nook and I followed Harry and a brisk pace towards the Leaky Cauldron. When we were about halfway there, I saw a shop on my left that looked especially inviting. I slowed my pace to look at the sign: Flourish & Blott's. In the display case, there were piles of newly released books, but not the kind that I saw in my local bookshop. These books had titles like 101 Ways to Make Your Wand Your Best Friend and It's Okay to Like Pumpkin Juice - The New Liquid-Potion Diet! I found myself inching towards the door when I felt a hand on my shoulder. It spun me around and I saw Harry looking at me with an earnest expression.
"We'll go later, I promise." He said sincerely. "For now, we need to keep moving."
I nodded, remembering why we were walking this way to begin with. Harry was running from something, and it seemed to be very serious. I followed him a few more yards to The Leaky Cauldron and could only stop to catch my breath for a few moments as he tapped the corresponding bricks to let us inside the pub. They parted a lot quicker than I had seen before, or maybe I had been too entranced to tell the difference. I let Harry lead us back into the pub.
"Harry Potter. I haven't seen you here in ages! Shouldn't you be at Hogwarts?"
"Change of plans." He replied breezily. "I would love to stay, Tom, but we've got to get back."
"Sure, sure." Tom said. "Be careful."
"Always am."
Harry turned back to me and nodded towards the door. I followed him out and he pulled out his wand once more to summon the Knight Bus. We both climbed inside and Harry exchanged another greeting with Stan, handing him the appropriate fare. I sat in the seat I had occupied before and held on more tightly as the bus took off. I figured I should let Harry use the pillow this round since he had been so kind as to lend it to me my first trip.
The bus ride was silent, and not pleasantly so. I spent the entire ride thinking of what could have frightened Harry to the point of fleeing Diagon Alley. I was still very unfamiliar with the Wizarding World and being a part of it, so my knowledge of the creatures and people that inhabited it was nonexistent. It was quite frustrating.
The bus halted at the front of my house and Harry and I departed quickly. When we got to the front door, I pulled out my keys and unlocked the door swiftly, letting both Harry and I inside and away from whatever had scared him. I locked the door behind us and when I turned back around, saw Harry running his hands through his hair in what looked to be a distressed manner.
"Harry, what is it?"
His hands froze and he turned to look at me. Biting his lip, he lowered his arms and spoke up in a low voice. "I think it's time I told you who I was."
"What do you mean?"
He gestured to the living room. "We should sit down for this."
He led the two of us to the couch and I sat down, an unsettling feeling beginning in the pit of my stomach. Harry had a very solemn look on his face that alerted me something was wrong.
"When I was a year old, my parents were murdered by a... a thing that called itself Lord Voldemort. He was a rising Dark Lord trying to create a world in which he would take over and rid it of anyone with what he deemed to be `tainted blood,' or Muggleborns."
"Like me." I said softly.
He nodded. "A few months before I was born, a prophesy was made that predicted that I would be the one to possess the power to destroy him and I alone. Neither can live while the other survives… kill or be killed."
My mouth suddenly went dry. "That's horrid. A burden that big must be torture to bear."
Again, he nodded. "Eventually, Voldemort riddled out that it was me the prophesy was talking about. My parents had been in hiding for the better part of a year in Godric's Hallow, but it was destroyed in the battle that we were bonded in. They moved to an island off the coast of Scotland virtually undetectable to anyone Muggle or magic. But somehow, he found us. He killed my father first, and then went up to my nursery to kill me. My mum was there, protecting me, but knowing she stood no chance against him alone. He offered to let her go, but she refused and sacrificed herself. I was left alone and unprotected, or so he thought. He tried to kill me with the same Unforgivable spell that slaughtered my parents, but it rebounded and destroyed him instead. My mother's love saved me. The only proof that he did try to kill me is my scar."
He lifted up his bangs and showed me the scar I had just recently come to notice. It looked tainted now that I knew the story and of the sacrifice his mother made to save him. I wanted to reach out and touch it, but squished that thought as soon as it came to mind.
He removed his hand from his forehead and continued to speak. "After that night I was branded as the only known survivor of the killing curse - The Boy Who Lived. I was famous before I was potty trained. In my parent's will, they named Sirius as my guardian and I've lived with him ever since. When you noticed my scar in the car, it was surreal because so many people in the Wizarding World know me by the scar and not by me, just Harry. I'm probably the most recognized face in the entire Wizarding community for something I can't even remember happening."
I could see the hurt in his eyes and I reached out unconsciously for the hand that was resting on his knee. He seemed just as surprised as I that I had made such a gesture, but smiled nonetheless. I retracted my hand as I asked, "What about Voldemort? You said the spell destroyed him but earlier you said he was the one who wanted to use our bond for his own benefit?"
"He survived." He said darkly. "He created something called a Horcrux in which he implants part of his soul in an object so when someone kills him, his soul lives on and he can be resurrected."
"And I'm guessing one of his followers - one of the Death Eaters - resurrected him?"
"Exactly." He said. "In my fourth year, I was forcefully entered in the Triwizard Tournament by one of the Death Eaters disguised as my Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. At the end of the third task I, along with my friend Cedric Diggory, was transported to the graveyard in front of Voldemort's former headquarters where a weak version of Voldemort and Wormtail, or Peter Pettigrew as you've heard of him, were waiting for me. Wormtail killed Cedric and bound me to a gravestone where he extracted some of my blood and a few other ingredients to resurrect Voldemort." At this point in his story, his voice became shaky. "Voldemort was returned to his former body and strength and I dueled with him to try and save myself. Somehow, I managed to get away with Cedric's body, but he was back. It took the Ministry a year to formally announce it, but I knew."
"And what about the Horcrux? Couldn't you just destroy it and go after Voldemort?"
"He didn't just make one, he made six. And before you say it's logical to make more than one, you need to understand that in order to make a Horcrux you need to split your soul. The only way to split your soul is by committing murder on an innocent human life. He implanted six fragments of his soul in objects that had a deep meaning to him."
"Did - did you ever find any of them?"
"Yes, and we destroyed them all."
"Then going after him shouldn't be a problem. Why do we even have to worry about this bond transfer if you already have everything on your side?"
"It's not that simple, Hermione." Harry said sadly. "Other than being a very well protected and once immortal wizard, Voldemort is also very smart and very powerful. When he went to Hogwarts back when he was known by his birth name, Tom Riddle, he was one of the greatest students they'd ever had. I can't just go up against someone like that without training and work. I've spent the majority of my life preparing for the confrontation so when it comes, I'll be ready."
It was a lot to take in. Here was this seventeen-year-old boy with the weight of the world on his shoulders and he was here with me trying to protect me and teach me the ways and customs he had grown up with. Instead of training for this grand battle, he was at a state school. It was becoming very clear that this bond was something neither of us fully comprehended.
"Back at Diagon Alley…" Harry said, bringing my attention back to him. "There was a Death Eater."
"What?!"
"Antonin Dolohov. He's one of Voldemort's more lethal hit men. I think he was going to Knockturn Alley, but we can't afford to assume. Since Voldemort is back in power, he's doing everything he can to get me to him. Since I'm with you and I'm sure he knows of it by now, that puts both of us at risk."
"Does this mean we can't go back?"
"It means we have to be more careful in the future. I will take you back to Flourish & Blott's, though. I made a promise and I intend to honor it. I just need to pick a date where Diagon Alley is more crowded, like Christmas."
I smiled. "Works for me."
He returned my smile. "Now that we're on the subject, is there anything else you would like to know?"
"I would like to know how to do magic."
He chuckled. "I'll teach you all of that soon. I mean is there anything in general about the Wizarding World you would like to know about? I saw you in Diagon Alley. You must have a million questions."
"I wouldn't want to bore you."
"You wouldn't be. Trust me." He said with a grin.
I thought for a moment. "Quidditch. What exactly is it?"
"I remember Dumbledore telling me it's like Muggle football and rugby before." He said thoughtfully. "It's basically the only sport known to Wizard kind. It's played on broomsticks and-"
"Wait, then I don't want to know."
"You're going to fly on a broom one day."
"No, I'm not. I have no interest in flying nor will I ever."
"Say what you will, but I know that I will get a broom between your legs even if I have to force it."
I scrunched up my nose in distaste. "Pervert."
"What? I-oh. I didn't mean it like that!"
I smirked. "Well that's how it came out."
"You know what I meant!"
"Sorry, I can't say I do."
His jaw clenched and he turned his back to me.
"I was just trying to lighten the mood." I explained. "It's a lot to take in-your past, me being a witch…"
He craned his head back to me. "So you actually believe it now?"
"It's hard to deny what's in your blood."
He smiled smuggled and twisted around to face me. "How does it feel?"
At first, I didn't comprehend what he was asking, but after a moment of him looking at me with wide eyes, I took a wild guess that he was talking about my new-found identity as a witch. "Oh. Well, it's very unreal. Like something out of a dream. One moment I was Hermione Granger, top of her class, socially inept… and now I'm a witch."
"Technically you've always been a witch."
I narrowed my eyes at him. "Technically that doesn't count. I've never felt like that before."
"Like what?"
"Complete. Like my life has a purpose."
"It didn't before?"
"No. No, it did. It's just that now that I discovered this whole other part of me, it's like there is so much more out there for me to live for. Instead of staying here and becoming a lawyer or a dentist I could head out into the Wizarding World and explore the wells of new possibilities. It's like discovering a new wonder of the world that benefits only you."
His lips curled on one side and he got up off the couch. "Let's test that, then."
"What?"
"Get up. We're going to try something."
I gave him an odd look before lifting myself up and facing him. He pulled out his wand from his back pocket and I watched him carefully as he made a curt cut through the air and what I assumed to be a spell. "Accio Hermione's wand!"
The bag that I had set on the floor suddenly came rocketing through the room and into Harry's free hand. He unwrapped my wand from its encasement and handed it to me. I took it, slightly dazed. Was I supposed to be able to do that?
"I want you to try what I just did."
Apparently so.
"What, now?"
He nodded. "Yeah. It's one of the simpler spells, don't worry. I learned it my fourth year, but since we don't have six years to teach you what I've already learned, we're just going to have to start from what I deem important. Now, let's start with a bit of background to make you feel a bit more comfortable and not as rushed, okay?"
"Okay."
"Accio is a Summoning Charm. You direct it at an object that you want to obtain, and if you perform it correctly, it will come flying at you and you can grab and pocket it or do whatever it is you Summoned it for."
"It sounds like a lazy person's spell, if you ask me." I said dryly.
"Ah, but that's the trick. Accio can be used to summon an object from a person's pocket, their hand, or even a few miles away. As long as you know the general location of the item you want to summon, you'll be able to get it. It's a lot handier that you think. Go on, try it. Just cut your wand through the air quickly like so-" He made the motion once more with his wand, "and say Accio and then the name of the object you want to summon."
I nodded. I looked around the room and my eyes fell upon a picture frame with me and my parents on our ski trip a few years back. "Accio picture frame!"
It came flying at me as quick as a bullet, but I caught it before it collided with the wall behind me. I grinned and looked at Harry to see if I had done alright and saw that his mouth was open practically to the floor.
"What? Did I do something wrong?" I asked worriedly.
"No!" He said quickly. "You… you just… you did it perfect the first time. How did you do that?"
I was taken aback. "Oh, erm, I… I… uhh… just did it?"
"You just did it?" He asked slowly.
"Yeah." I answered cautiously.
"That's incredible." He said. "I've never known anyone who could catch on so quickly before. Are you sure that you've never cast a spell before?"
"Positive. I thought magic was a hoax, remember?"
"Right." He shook his head. "Just… do it again. See if you can repeat the same result.
I aimed this time for my mum's pair of reading glasses she left on the coffee table. "Accio reading glasses!"
The pair flew into my hand and I looked back over at Harry questioningly. He nodded. "Do it again."
I thought it odd to repeat what I had just done perfectly again, but complied nonetheless, this time choosing a single flower from a nearby vase. I thought after that we would be done, but he kept telling me to do it again. When I perfectly Summoned six objects in a row, I thought I would tell Harry that I was finished in my own special way.
"Accio Harry's trousers!"
Much to my amusement, Harry's trousers ripped off his legs and flew into my hand in a flop. I giggled a bit into the palm of my wand hand as Harry's face began to turn a bright shade of red. He was left standing there in nothing but his blue and gray plaid boxers in the middle of my living room. If my parents chose then to walk in, I would have had a lot of explaining to do. But it was definitely worth it.
He took a deep breath before speaking. "Okay, I get it."
I smiled dazzlingly at him and he rolled his eyes, holding out his hand for his trousers. I threw them back to him with a little more force than necessary to prove my point. "You don't need to observe everything I do, Harry. That includes my picture perfect spell casting"
"I like figuring things out." He explained. He mumbled what I assumed to be some sort of mending charm and the trousers began reattaching where the rip had been made.
I rolled my eyes. "Overworking me won't help you, it'll only annoy me."
"You never know." He said as he pulled the trousers up over his knees.
I bit my lip and crossed my arms around my chest as he finished fastening his trousers back on. When he finished he looked at me with a shadow of a smile. "Though I have to admit, you are catching on quickly to the Wizard sense of humor."
"Am I?"
He nodded. He took a few steps towards me and I recoiled a bit, thinking he was about to go in for payback. Instead, he stopped a few inches short of me and held out a hand. I tilted my head to the side in question just before he spoke. "Welcome to the Wizarding World, Hermione Granger."
I took his hand, and with it, sealed my fate. What was to come in the next few months, though now only a distant storm, was steadily approaching. And with mine and Harry's hands encircled within the others', the clock was slowly starting to speed up on when that storm was going to hit. And hit hard.
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