Which School?

Chapter Two: Shopping

It had taken the rest of that day and quite a lot of the next for all of the Granger's questions about magic to be answered. Professor McGonagall had arranged the loan of an owl for them, in case they had any further questions, and the poor bird had quickly been dispatched with a long list of additional questions, many of which had already been answered.

Eventually, Professor McGonagall had offered to accompany Hermione on her first trip to Diagon Alley, where they would collect all of her schoolbooks and then have a meal with Hermione's parents.

Hermione loved travelling down to London with her parents on the train. She read a book that Professor McGonagall had leant her, a book called Modern Magical History. She read about the twentieth century from a magical point of view; how the Second World War had run parallel to a conflict between the Dark Wizard Grindelwald and Albus Dumbledore, the current Headmaster of Hogwarts and the most respected wizard for centuries. Then she read about how soon after Grindelwald's fall, rumours of a new Dark Lord had filtered out of central Europe; and how, just ten years ago, a baby boy only a few weeks older than Hermione herself had killed that wizard.

Hermione paused on reading this, and stared out of the window. There was a dark side to the wizarding world, as there was to the Muggle world. But it seemed that that part was behind them. Ten years after Voldemort's fall -she didn't like the name. She'd say You-Know-Who, and show that not all Muggle-borns were ignorant- it seemed that that was all behind them. All thanks to Harry Potter.

*

Professor McGonagall was waiting on the platform as the Grangers' train pulled into Euston station. The four of them went to a small hotel off Piccadilly and turned in for an early night.

The next morning, Hermione was awake very early. She read and reread the most recent chapters in Modern Magical History. She didn't want to seem ignorant if a wizard or witch asked her a question,

By the time the Grangers and Professor McGonagall finished breakfast -Hermione was too excited to eat more than a half-slice of toast- Hermione was ready for anything.

Except for the Leaky Cauldron.

A small, dingy pub that seemed to exude an air of gloominess, Hermione could scarcely have been more disappointed with her entrance to the wizarding world, even the colourful patrons, who greeted Professor McGonagall like an old friend, didn't really raise her spirits very much. Was this what she had to look forward to?

The wizened old barman nodded to her. "Course, you're not the first new student we've had through here today, not by a long chalk, Miss Granger."

There was a loud murmur of assent. Hermione thought she detected an excited buzz beneath it, an undertone of gossip that she suspected would spread far beyond the grimy walls of the Leaky Cauldron before the day was over.

"I suppose Harry Potter came through today, didn't he?" Hermione asked. There was an astonished silence.

"Now, how did you know that?" an elderly witch asked from one corner of the pub. "Are you a Seer?"

"Oh, don't talk nonsense, Doris Crockford," Professor McGonagall said sharply. "Hermione, you've read that book I leant you, yes?"

"That's right," Hermione said. "And it told me all about Harry Potter, about how he's my age. I thought that he'd be starting at Hogwarts this year, and as you were all seemed so excited about a first year pupil, I thought that it was probably him who came through, rather than anyone else who banished a Dark Wizard when he was a year old."

She said all this rather fast, and there was a thoughtful pause as the Leaky Cauldron's customers digested what she had said.

"Well then," Tom the barman said, eventually. "I don't reckon you'll be wanting to keep Miss Granger here for too long, Professor. A mind like hers, you need to get it out in the fresh air. Get her down to Flourish & Blotts, I'd say. Plenty of books to keep her busy."

"Yes, thank you Tom," Professor McGonagall said, a shade coldly.

"And Miss Granger?" Tom said, as they headed towards the back of the pub.

"Yes?"

"Please, bring your parents back tonight. I'll fix you a meal in one of the back parlours. It's a bit nicer than the main bar. On the house, of course."

"Thank you," Hermione said a little uncertainly. McGonagall smiled at her young charge.

"Fifty years I've been going to the Leaky Cauldron," she told Hermione as they went out of the back door and into a small back yard stacked haphazardly with barrels and crates. "Fifty years, and I've only seen him give out two free meals before now. The first was for Albus Dumbledore, when Grindelwald was defeated. The other was for James and Lily Potter on their wedding day and that only when he lost a bet to James' best man. Clearly you've impressed him, Miss Granger."

Hermione cheered up at this, although she did wonder why they were standing in the middle of a pub store yard. She asked, and McGonagall smiled.

"This is the entry to Diagon Alley, Miss Granger. Watch carefully, because in future, you shall be doing this yourself."

McGonagall rapped several bricks with her wand. Hermione watched carefully, noting the order, and noting that the bricks were discoloured slightly. Then she smiled as she realised that they weren't discoloured, rather they were cleaner than the surrounding bricks. She supposed that if this were the only entrance to Diagon Alley, so many witches and wizards had tapped the bricks with their wands that they would never had the chance to get dirty.

And then the wall before them shuddered, and folded, and all thoughts of clean and dirty bricks disappeared from Hermione's mind.

*

It was quite the most amazing place that Hermione had ever seen. She kept turning around, not wanting to miss anything. She peered through the windows of all of the shops, desperate to take it all in, knowing she'd never be able to explain it all to her parents when they met up that evening. The trip to Gringotts, the goblin bank, had been quite the most exciting thing she'd ever experienced. It had been like walking into Aladdin's cave, and she couldn't stop staring at the strange wizarding money as they walked back out into Diagon Alley.

"Ron! George! Behave yourselves!"

"Oww!"

"Mu-ummm!"

"Problems, Molly?"

Hermione looked up from the Knuts, Sickles and Galleons to see McGonagall talking to a short red-haired woman, who was casually holding an ear of each of two boys, both much taller than her, but clearly unwilling to try to break free.

"Bless you, no, Minerva. A mother's work is never done."

"Hello!"

Hermione looked around, and smiled at the red-haired girl in front of her.

"Hello," she replied. "I'm Hermione."

"Ginny," the redhead replied. "Is that your mum?"

"Professor McGonagall?" Hermione laughed. "No, she's a witch, well, I suppose everyone here is magic. But she's a teacher. She's brought me here to do my shopping for school."

"Oh, are you going to Hogwarts?" Ginny asked.

"Yes. I didn't know until a few days ago. No one in my family is a witch or wizard."

"You're a Muggle-born?" Ginny asked, her eyes widening.

"A what?"

"Someone born in a non-magical family."

"Oh, yes, I suppose I am," Hermione said.

"It must be fun, living in the non-magic world," Ginny said. "Do you have a big family?"

"No, just me and my parents."

"Lucky! I've got six brothers."

"Gosh. You must know a lot of magic, if they're all wizards."

"They are, well, four of them are at school. Ron's starting this year. That's him with mum."

Hermione looked up, but the red-haired woman had let go of her captives, and now there was just a sea of red-haired boys around her and McGonagall.

"Are you at Hogwarts?" she asked.

"No, I'm not old enough," Ginny replied. "Next year, mum says."

"Ginny? Ginny, dear. Come on. We've lots to do."

"Oh, I'd better go. Nice to meet you!" Ginny ran over to the crowd of boys, and jumped onto the back of the tallest one, who staggered forwards, but held her with a long-suffering air. She waved gaily from her perch as they went on their way, and Hermione waved back until they disappeared from view.

Her first real conversation with a witch. Even if she was only the same age as Hermione herself. It was just like the Muggle world, she thought, slipping the new word in unconsciously, as she always did with new words she encountered.

"A very well respected family," McGonagall said. "The Weasleys. Both Molly and Arthur were students of mine, and now their youngest boy is starting at Hogwarts. Time flies, Miss Granger. Let that be your first lesson from a member of our faculty. Time always moves onwards. We can't get it back, so we must use it wisely."

Hermione nodded. She knew all about using her time wisely. She read constantly, always trying to learn new things. Not like Susie Andrews, who wasted time and was always in trouble.

"Now, here's your list. What shall we buy first?"

Hermione looked down the list. She wanted more than anything to get her wand, but knew that she should wait and savour the anticipation.

"Could we get my robes?"

Madame Malkin was delighted to measure up the newest Hogwarts student, and gossiped happily with Hermione about all the famous witches and wizards who had bought their first set of robes from her shop. The names didn't mean very much to Hermione, but she enjoyed being fussed over, and giggled slightly when Madame Malkin complimented her on her hair. "So thick and strong. That hair will look good no matter what you do with it."

Leaving the robe shop, they passed a tall blonde man who walked along with his nose in the air. A blonde boy with a pointed face that had a particularly unpleasant expression on it trailed behind him. Hermione was glad that she was able to give them a wide berth.

Next they bought a cauldron and a basic set of ingredients, along with various ladles and spoons that clattered loudly in the cauldron as they walked. A bookshop called Flourish and Blotts had a full set of first year textbooks stacked and ready for sale on the counter, which gave Hermione and McGonagall time to browse in the shop. Hermione spent more than twice what she had spent on her textbooks picking up additional books. She was sure that she would be very far behind the other children, like Ginny's brother Ron.

Imagine growing up in a wizard family! They must know so much. I'll just have to work very hard to catch up.

"Hagrid!"

McGonagall hailed a huge man who was standing outside Madame Malkin's shop with an ice cream cone in each hand. He waved to a black haired boy inside - Hermione noticed that the boy was standing with the blonde boy she'd seen earlier, and supposed that they were friends - and greeted McGonagall heartily. The two chatted for a minute or so, while Hermione looked longingly at the next shop in the parade. Ollivander's, the sign read. Makers of Fine Wands Since 382 BC

Eventually, McGonagall and the giant man bid farewell to each other, and he walked on with the black haired boy in tow.

"Rubeus Hagrid," McGonagall said. "He's the Hogwarts groundskeeper. And that boy with him," she gave Hermione a significant look. "Well, he is Harry Potter."

"Oh," Hermione said. "He looks very ordinary."

"Indeed he does," McGonagall said. "It's quite a mystery how he managed to defeat You-Know-Who."

They went on, and Hermione was pleased to see McGonagall turning to go into Ollivander's. All thoughts of mysterious black haired boys were driven from her mind. Hundreds, if not thousands of boxes lined the walls. It took Hermione several long moments to realise someone had come to stand in front of her.

"Miss Granger, welcome," the man said, extending a cold, dry hand for her to shake. "I am Mr Ollivander. I believe I have the very wand for you."

He drew a box from behind his back and held it out, removing the lid. Inside, lay a slim black wand.

"Finest ash," Mr Ollivander said. "Nine inches, and a core of unicorn hair. Give it a wave, and see what happens."

Hermione waved the wand. Nothing happened.

"Ah, most unusual. May I enquire as to your birthday, Miss Granger?"

"The nineteenth of September, nineteen-eighty," Hermione replied.

"Nineteen-eighty? Nineteen-eighty? Why, that explains it. Just wait one moment, please."

He vanished into the back of the shop, and was gone for several minutes. Hermione looked questioningly at Professor McGonagall.

"Mr Ollivander and Professor Dumbledore are old friends, and, just like Dumbledore, Mr Ollivander possesses a certain dramatic flair. I understand that he likes to have a wand ready for all his customers, whenever he can. It rather appears that you may have surprised him somewhat."

"Oh."

Ollivander reappeared, another box in his hands. "This may be more suitable," he said. "Fourteen inches, willow, one unicorn tail-hair. An unusually long wand for a young witch such as yourself, but nevertheless. . ."

Hermione took the proffered wand, and felt it tingle in her hand. She waved it, and a shower of sparks fired from the end.

"Ah, there we are," Ollivander said. "Now, let me see, that will be seven Galleons and eight Sickles, thank you very much."

*

The rest of the day was full of incident. Hermione explored Diagon Alley to its fullest extent, and on her third trip through Flourish and Blotts, she bought a magical diary that would preserve her thoughts indefinitely, saving the expense of buying a new diary every year.

Then the Grangers arrived at the Leaky Cauldron, and for the first time were introduced to the wider wizarding world. It was all rather a lot to take in, especially when Hermione talked excitedly of the goblins that guarded Gringotts, and Hagrid the Hogwarts groundskeeper. But they were happy for Hermione, especially how enthusiastic she now was about going to secondary school. It hadn't escaped either of her parents' attention that she hadn't been particularly happy about the prospect before Professor McGonagall entered their lives.

It was a very happy Granger family that, with Professor McGonagall accompanying them, returned to Euston station the following day for the trip back to Oxford.

"I shall drop in one day after your holiday," McGonagall promised. "In case you have any further questions, or Miss Granger has run out of spellbooks to read."

The Grangers smiled, and bid the stern looking witch farewell. Hermione waved until the train had pulled out of the station. She thought, although she wasn't sure, that at the very last second, McGonagall had actually disappeared, just before the point that she would have disappeared behind a steel tower.

To be continued. . .