~he bald man behind the bar smiled at them when they came in. “Ah, you’d be looking for the entrance, right?”
“Uh, yes,” Hermione said timidly. Despite his rugged look, the bartender seemed friendly as he came from behind the counter to shake their hands.
“M’name’s Tom. I run this place,” he said proudly as if it were as elegant as the Celestina Hotel. Hermione noticed that he was also toothless. “You must be headed into your first year of wizarding school,” he said to Hermione.
“Yes I am.” Hermione nodded.
“You’ll need a wand to get back there. I don’t suppose you have yours already?”
Hermione shook her head.
“Well no matter. Follow me.” He led them out the back to a small courtyard with a single trashcan. “Now watch this my young witch so you’ll know next time.” He started counting bricks from the trashcan. “Three up; two to the right.” He tapped the wall with a long wooden rod that Hermione assumed was a wand. Then to their amazement the wall began to open up until there was a large archway in front of them. “Welcome to Diagon Alley,” Tom said proudly as he ushered them through the archway onto a cobbled street.
“Amazing,” Mr. Granger gasped.
“Have you got a map, little witch?” Tom asked.
“Yes I do.” Hermione answered automatically as she looked around at all the shops.
“Well then, good luck,” Tom said as he took a step backwards and the archway began to close up.
“Wait!” Hermione whirled around. “How do we get back?”
“Three up, two to the right,” Tom called and as the wall completely closed Hermione noticed another unassuming trash can sitting in front of it.
She turned to her parents again. “Well, what do you think?”
They were looking around at all of the people in colorful robes walking around buying caldrons, carrying owls, and haggling over strange items.
“Well the pub entrance leaves a little to be desired,” Mr. Granger said thoughtfully, “but I must admit that they’ve done well keeping this place a secret. I hope one of these days you’ll be able to master that kind of magic.”
“Me too,” Hermione said excitedly.
They walked up to the first shop which had a large stack of caldrons in front of it. “Hermione, didn’t your school supply list say you’d need a caldron?” her mother asked.
Hermione nodded.
“Excuse me, sir.” Mr. Granger asked the shop attended, a freckled faced teenage boy. “How much for one of these?”
“Four galleons, 10 sickles; a bargain,” he said.
Mr. Granger pulled out his wallet. “What’s that in pounds?”
The young attendant stared at the paper money Mr. Granger pulled out. “Uh…” he thought for a bit. “Oh I see. You’re muggles aren’t ya?”
Hermione rolled her eyes.
“You’ll need to go to the bank. They exchange muggle money.”
“Oh I see,” Mr. Granger put the wad of bills away. “Where is the bank?”
“Gringotts is just down the street; can’t miss it.”
They thanked the attended and started down the street. “I feel so out of place here,” Hermione said with a sigh. “It’s like everyone knows we’re muggles. It couldn’t be worse if we had a sign on her back.” Hermione checked her back to make sure this wasn’t the case. Anything could be possible in the wizarding world.
“Don’t worry Hermione,” her mother said soothingly. “You’re just new in this world. After a few weeks at school, I’m sure you’ll fit in just fine.”
A large white marble building came into view on their right as they followed the cobblestone street. “That must be it,” Hermione pointed.
It was huge and as they climbed the large marble stairs they noticed a small man in a red and gold uniform, but he wasn’t a man. He was… something else. He had long fingers and a beard and a weird looking face. Hermione quickly pulled out her map and scanned the section marked Diagon Alley.
She found the dot for Gringotts and a small caption appeared saying “Gringotts is run entirely by goblins making it by far the safest place in the entire wizarding world for money and valuables. It was established in the early 1700s as the first legitimate goblin business after the goblin uprisings.”
“Goblins,” Hermione whispered to her parents as they approached the doors.
Mrs. Granger jumped a bit. “Are they friendly?”
“I guess. Wizards keep their money here; it must be okay.”
The goblin at the front bowed politely and opened the main door to let them in. They immediately faced another set of double doors and two more goblin guards. Hermione read the large words engraved on the silver doors ahead of them.
“Enter stranger, but take head
Of what awaits the sin of greed
For those who take but do not earn,
Must pay most dearly in their turn.
So if you seek beneath our floors
A treasure that was never yours
Thief, you have been warned, beware
Of finding more than treasure there.”
Mr. Granger gulped. “Well they certainly take their security seriously,” he said as the two goblin guards bowed them in.
Inside was a large chamber with a long counter on the far wall. Behind the high counter were dozens of goblins who had to have been sitting on high stools. Along the outside walls were several unmarked doors and Hermione could see wizards and witches coming in and out of them. Mr. Granger led his family to a goblin clerk behind the counter.
“May I help you,” the goblin said in a snarling yet somehow polite voice.
“Uh, yes. We’d like to exchange our notes for wizard’s money. Can we do that here.”
“Certainly, let me see your notes,” The goblin extended a hand.
Mr. Granger handed him a large wad of notes that amounted to about £500. The goblin seemed to do some quick calculations in his ledger then reached behind the counter and pulled out a small brown bag. He poured a large amount of coins into the bag and handed it to Mr. Granger.
“There you are; a hundred gold galleons. Remember muggles that there are three types of wizard money we use here, galleons, sickles, and knuts. There are seventeen sickles in a galleon and twenty-nine knuts in a sickle.”
Hermione remembered this from her summer seminar. “Oh I’d like to exchange this.” She handed him a £50 note. The goblin handed her a bag with 10 gold galleons in it.
“Would you like to open an account?” The goblin asked. “Special rates for young witches and wizards.”
“Uh,” Hermione thought about this. All of her savings were in her local bank. She hadn’t thought about converting the whole lot to wizard money but it made sense. “I don’t have my money here.”
“We’ll open one next time, dear,” Mrs. Granger told her and they started towards the doors.
When they got outside the bank, Hermione checked her map again. “Okay, there is a book store that way, and a place I can get my school clothes over there, and I see Ollivander’s wand shop. There are so many places to choose from.”
“Well let’s take it one shop at a time. We’ll get your school books last,” Mrs. Granger decided on the spot.
“What?” Hermione said disheartened. “I wanted to go to the bookstore first.”
Mrs. Granger laughed. “I know you did, Hermione. Books are like candy to you. But this way if we go last, you’ll be able to spend as much time as you want there. We’ll even get you some extra books.”
Hermione beamed. “Okay then, let’s get my wand first. I’m really excited about getting my wand. Then we can just work our way back down Diagon Alley.” She started towards Ollivander’s.
The shop wasn’t at all what Hermione had expected. It was almost as shabby as the Leaky Caldron and she thought perhaps she was at the wrong building but the peeling letters on the store did say “Ollivander’s – Makers of Fine Wands Since 382 BC.”
“This is the best place for wands;” Hermione insisted because her parents looked doubtful. “It even says so on the map. Remember, nothing in the wizarding world is as it seems.”
A tiny bell rung in the back as they entered and Hermione’s mother took a seat on the only small spindly chair in the shop. Hermione rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet in anticipation.
Then Ollivander himself appeared from the back. “Good afternoon. Ah I see it is you young Hermione Granger.”
Hermione gave him a quizzical look. “How do you know my name?”
“I have a keen memory. I remember you from the summer seminar. Who could forget such a talented young muggle-born witch?”
“Me?”
“I knew from the moment you took the realizer that you had an extraordinary amount of wizarding aptitude and skill already.”
“But, all I did was speak another language. It wasn’t anything like what some of the other kids did. One of them blew up all the chairs.”
“Unfocused bursts of magical energy,” Mr. Ollivander said dismissively. “It’s exactly what you expect from young witches and wizards, especially muggle-borns, because they have no training yet. They have no way to really harness their powers appropriately. However, speaking another language requires an incredible amount of focus and aptitude. It’s not a power that would usually come from a young, untrained witch holding a realizer, and you spoke two different languages I noticed; one that your mother would recognize and one that your father would recognize. I could tell then that you have the potential to be an extremely successful witch. You already have the discipline and focus.”
Mr. Granger was grinning from ear to ear. “Do you hear that, Hermione? You are going to be an excellent witch. You just need to apply yourself, keep to your studies while at Hogwarts.”
“Exactly,” Mr. Ollivander agreed. “And Hogwarts couldn’t be a better choice for a girl of her aptitude.” He walked back to the large pile of thin boxes against the back wall. “Now, I’m sure you’re here to choose a wand.”
Hermione nodded eagerly.
“Well you should know first of all, that the process is the other way around. It is the wand that chooses the witch. However…” He selected a box that looked like it had been singled off.
“After the conference, I came back to my shop and found a wand that I think is perfect for you.” He held the box in front of him. “Each wand is different just like no two witches or wizards are the same, even twins. Wands are made from various types of wood and each has a core of a powerful magical substance such as unicorn hairs, phoenix feathers, and dragon heartstrings. This one however is 10 ½ inches, maple, rather swishy, and contains a hair from a particularly spirited and intelligent sphinx I found a very long time ago. I could only get one hair from her; that’s usually all you can get from a sphinx. It should be very good for charms and transfiguration.
“It is a powerful wand but since we rarely ever use sphinx tail hairs, it hasn’t chosen an owner in all these years. Something tells me though, that this wand was made for you and considering I made it, I’m fairly certain I’m right. Give it a try.” He opened the box.
Hermione took the wand with trembling fingers. She felt a strange tingling feeling; the same one she felt when she held the realizer.
“Go ahead.” Mr. Ollivander pressed.
Hermione raised the wand and gave it a swish. Before she knew it, three small white birds appeared and flew out the window. “Wow!”
“Very impressive; the most we usually see is some sparks or just a magical pulse. You definitely have potential and this wand… has chosen you,” he said proudly. “Use it well, Ms. Granger.”
Mr. Granger gladly paid 7 galleons for the wand and they left the shop. Hermione was more excited than she’d been in her life. She had a wand; she now felt like a real witch.
Hermione and her parents continued down Diagon Alley stopping at shops to buy everything she would need from school uniforms, which included black work robes, to potions ingredients. They even found another shop that sold standard school caldrons for 3 galleons, 14 sickles, a better bargain than the first caldron shop they came across. Hermione noticed that everywhere they went, the shopkeepers seemed to know instantly that she was a muggle-born witch. She thought it might be their clothing at first but most of the other kids she saw around were dressed the same as her. No one seemed to mind that she was a muggle-born but it was a little disconcerting to be singled out so readily.
Finally they made their way to Flourish and Blott’s Bookstore. The attendant in the store helped Hermione find all of the books on her school list. Then after they had paid for the books, Mr. Granger dropped 7 galleons into Hermione’s open hand. “Okay dear, go wild.”
Hermione had been waiting for this moment. She started off through the large bookstore by herself, trying to figure out what she wanted to get. The first book she found was a large one in the History of Magic section called “Hogwarts: A History.”
“This is perfect,” she thought to herself. She’d be able to learn all about Hogwarts before she got there.
She found a few more books about the history of magic and few on magic theory, great events and people of ancient and modern magical eras and books about muggle/wizard relations. She decided that if she was going to be in the wizarding world it was time that she knew as much about it as regular wizards. She wanted to be as smart and knowledgeable as her classmates would surely be. In the end she picked out ten extra books and stacked them on the front counter.
“A bit of light reading?” Mrs. Granger laughed.
“I’m going to be the best witch I can be. When I get to Hogwarts I want to be on the same level as everyone else. That way they won’t see me as just another muggle-born witch.”
“You’ll be fine dear.” Mr. Granger said as they headed towards the walled exit of Diagon Alley. “It’s just like Mr. Ollivander said, you’ve already got great potential. Your teachers will see that.”
But Hermione wasn’t particularly concerned about her teachers. All of her teachers had always liked her. She was more worried about the students. She was worried that she’d be stigmatized for being a muggle-born witch and she really wanted to make friends. She thought about the girl she met at the summer conference, Anne. Maybe she would be at Hogwarts. She wished she had her address so she could write to her and find out. As it was, she couldn’t even remember her last name. Hopefully she would meet students at her school who were just as nice as Anne though.
“Hermione, why don’t you give that new wand of yours a test run,” Mr. Granger said as they approached the wall that would lead back to the leaky caldron.
Hermione reached in one of the bags she was carrying and pulled out her new wand, 10 ½ inches, maple, with a single powerful sphinx tail hair for its core. “Three up; two to the right.” she said with a smile.
