Chapter 4. Diagon Alley.

Hermione couldn't fall asleep, no matter how much she tossed and turned in bed. She kept thinking about Professor McGonagall's fascinating stories of magic and her future education at the wizarding school. The idea of learning Transfiguration, Potion Making, and Defense Against the Dark Arts thrilled her. However, Hermione also worried she might not cut it, and end up being sent away from Hogwarts in disgrace.

The thought of meeting other wizards excited her too. Hermione wondered if they would all dress as extravagantly as McGonagall, or if some would look just like normal people. 'What if one of my neighbors is a wizard too?' she pondered. 'That would be pretty cool.' These thoughts kept her up until she finally fell into a troubled sleep.

In her dream, Hermione found herself in a wild fantasy. Strange plants floated through the air, growing quickly and trying to snatch at her with their toothy petals. Mugs with long tails coiled around her feet, purring non-stop. Then, out of nowhere, unicorns charged in, scaring off the plants and mugs with their sharp, glittering horns. They looked worried and it seemed they were trying to tell Hermione something, but she couldn't make sense of their strange words. Hermione felt a growing sense of danger as if being chased. But whenever she tried to see who or what was behind her, Hermione only caught fleeting glimpses of shadows that disappeared as soon as she looked their way.

Then, Professor McGonagall appeared, riding atop an incredible creature that looked like a donkey with a fish head, and huge bubbles kept popping out of its mouth. McGonagall transformed the bubbles into various objects and, with a cowboy's yell, hurled them with her wand at the elusive enemies pursuing the unicorns.

Suddenly, a thick fog wrapped around everything, and Barbara Grayson stepped towards Hermione out of it. Pretending to be all innocent with her angel face, Grayson started picking on Hermione again. Then she blurted out, "Only damned witches can cast spells! I always knew you were evil!" Barbara's friends popped up next to her, also yelling that Hermione needed to be burned at the stake for being a witch. "Who should we burn?" Barbara shouted, and her friends loudly returned, "Hermione! Hermione! Hermione!"

Hermione woke up to someone shaking her shoulder and repeating her name. She opened her eyes and saw her mom's face. Noticing her daughter was awake, Emma Granger said a bit flustered:

"Hermione, some man has come... Says he's from the Ministry of Magic, and it's time to go... shopping..."

Hermione's head was splitting with pain. After coming to her senses from the chaotic dream, she winced and whispered:

"Just a moment, mom... my head is killing me..."

"Oh, dear," Emma sighed softly and went to get the medicine kit.

Hermione felt completely shattered. After a night full of thoughts and worries, she wasn't sure whether to be happy about being a witch. More than once, she thought how much simpler things would be if none of these oddities had happened, and if Professor McGonagall hadn't shown up at their doorstep yesterday. But the moment of doubt was brief. After taking the pills, Hermione quickly recovered and pushed aside all her doubts. Being a witch was a fact, and there was no point in wondering about what-ifs.

When Hermione entered the living room, she found her parents silently sitting on the couch, looking a bit anxious. Their gazes were fixed on the unusual guest occupying the chair across from them. This middle-aged man, with a tanned complexion, had an imposing appearance: his once-black hair was now streaked with strands of silver, giving him an air of mature wisdom. His beard, neatly trimmed and groomed, matched his slightly dandyish mustache, which was elegantly twisted upwards. He was dressed in a formal robe adorned with mysterious symbols and signs, and in his hands, he held a cane.

A slightly condescending smile played on the stranger's lips as he surveyed the Granger family's living room decor. Noticing Hermione, he perked up and, turning to her, said in a deep voice:

"I presume you are Miss Granger?"

"Yes," Hermione replied. "That's me."

"Let me introduce myself, my name is Gareth Bridge," he started, slowly getting up from the chair. Leaning on his cane, Gareth gave a slight nod in Hermione's direction, with a touch of grace. "I am here on behalf of the Ministry of Magic. It's my pleasure to guide you through Diagon Alley and help pick out your school supplies today."

Hermione, not used to such formal greetings, thought of movie scenes where ladies performed elegant curtsies. She awkwardly attempted one herself, which, of course, didn't quite work out. Blushing a bit, she quietly said:

"Thank you. I'll get ready in a moment."

The ministry official, catching Hermione's awkward curtsy, managed to hide his amusement with a polite professionalism. He reassured her with a gentle tone:

"Take your time, Miss Granger. I'm here for you today."

Then, addressing Hermione's parents with the same warmth, he continued:

"Mr. and Mrs. Granger, I'm confident you'll find Diagon Alley to be quite fascinating. Moreover, as Hermione prepares for Hogwarts, it's essential that she has your support in choosing her school supplies, which are, no doubt, quite different from what you're used to. I believe you'd appreciate being part of this unique experience."

Half an hour later, the Grangers, accompanied by Mr. Bridge, left their house, and headed for London. A tense silence filled the car, the wizard's presence making Hermione's parents feel awkward. Noticing this, Hermione held back many questions about the magical world whirling in her head. Mr. Bridge also kept quiet, only occasionally giving directions to Hermione's dad, since John had no clue where to drive.

Soon, they reached a busy shopping street and stepped out of the car. Gareth confidently took the lead and started walking, while the Grangers had to hustle to keep up. John and Emma fell behind a bit and were quietly arguing with each other. Finally, they stopped in front of a barely noticeable bar called 'The Leaky Cauldron.' Hermione wouldn't have given it a second glance if Mr. Bridge hadn't pointed it out. Turning to Hermione and her parents, he said:

"Hermione, grab your mom's and dad's hands and follow me. Mr. and Mrs. Granger, just stick close to Hermione, even if you think there's no way forward."

Following Mr. Bridge's lead, Hermione headed into the bar. Just at the entrance, she felt her parents' hands tense and even slightly pull her back. Getting past their mild resistance, Hermione stepped forward, and in a second, they were all inside the bar. Her parents looked around, baffled, not getting how they ended up there.

"I was dead certain we'd smack into a wall..." John Granger said, sounding totally amazed.

The bar was relatively quiet: only a few tables were occupied by visitors in cloaks and in other unusual outfits. Gareth quickly led them across the room to a door at the back.

"What is this place?" Hermione asked.

Slowing a bit, Mr. Bridge looked at her and replied:

"As you might've noticed, Miss Granger, this place is known as 'The Leaky Cauldron'. It's where wizards of all sorts come to have a good time with their own kind."

"So, ordinary people don't come here?" Hermione asked, looking around.

"If by 'ordinary people' you mean Muggles, then no," Mr. Bridge answered, then glanced at Hermione's parents. They looked a bit uneasy, watching some of the visitors. "Except for rare exceptions, like today," he added.

The wizards and witches at the tables also noticed the newcomers. Some looked over with obvious interest, while others made no effort to hide their disdain. Their looks worried Hermione. 'Did we break any rules?' she thought. 'Or is it expected to wear cloaks and such here?' Walking past a table, Hermione caught a quiet voice:

"The ministry brought Muggles here again! When will they start respecting pure blood?!"

"Quiet, someone might hear you," a second voice whispered. "It's not time yet..."

Hermione, puzzled, glanced back at the voices. The wizards around her were just going about their usual business, deep in conversation and meals. Yet, despite the calm appearance, a sense of uneasiness caught her.

Her eyes landed on an old man sitting by himself off to the side. Fiddling with his food, he gave her a cold glance that made Hermione shiver a bit. At that moment, a nice-looking man with dark hair called out to her. His face was pale, highlighted by his bright red, thin lips. He seemed to be friendly.

"Can I help you, miss? It looks like you're searching for someone…"

Turning her attention from the old man, Hermione replied:

"No, no… thanks…" then, seeing that Gareth and her parents were already heading out through the other door, she quickly excused herself and followed them.

They walked into a small courtyard, where the ministry official took out his wand, lightly tapped certain bricks in the wall, and murmured something. Hermione and her parents, surprised, looked at the bricks shifting apart and forming an entrance. Through it, Hermione saw a street paved with cobblestones, lined with shops sporting the quirkiest signs. This was the entrance to Diagon Alley.

Hermione followed Mr. Bridge through the opening. Her parents came after her, looking a bit unsure. Emma stayed close to John, who reached out, feeling the air in front of him, as if to make sure it was real. Having been through 'The Leaky Cauldron', he was now skeptical of his own sight. Once they all stepped through, Hermione felt someone watching her and turned quickly, but only saw a solid wall, as the entrance snapped shut.

"So, Miss Granger, welcome to Diagon Alley," Mr. Bridge said, pulling her away from her worries, "Here, you'll find everything you need for school. But first, you've got to exchange…"

"One minute, please!" John Granger suddenly cut in loudly, stepping forward. Hermione's mom tried to pull him back, but he gently pulled away and said to her, "I think we should..." then, stopping short, he turned back to the ministry official: "Sorry, Mr. Bridge, it's just all happened so quickly, and we haven't really had a chance to talk it over." Then, looking at Hermione, he went on:

"Hermione, you're not obliged to go to this wizard school. It might all seem super interesting but think about where it might lead you. They teach all sorts of odd things and don't even teach math there! How are you supposed to get into university after that?" Hermione's dad stressed these last words as if they clinched his argument. After a brief pause, he added: "We always imagined you'd follow in our footsteps and become a great doctor, but with this strange school..." He paused for a moment, glanced at the ministry official, and quickly added, "Mr. Bridge, please don't take this as me having anything against wizards."

Hermione wavered, her eyes moving from her mom to her dad. Initially, she nearly agreed with her dad, ready to brush off everything as just a weird dream, but something stopped her from replying right away. Gareth Bridge cleared his throat and said:

"Miss Granger, you certainly have the option to decline the offer to Hogwarts, and that decision is entirely yours to make. However, there are a few critical aspects you might want to consider before finalizing your choice. The inability to control your magical abilities can pose significant risks, not just to yourself but also to those around you. Acquiring, at least, a foundational understanding of how to manage your magic is essential to prevent any inadvertent manifestations of your power, as has been observed in your case already. Furthermore, it's important to note that the opportunity to attend Hogwarts is given only once. Should you choose to decline, the option to reconsider in the future will not be available."

Gareth took a meaningful pause, and everyone looked at Hermione, waiting for what she'd say next.

She thought, "Going back to my old life might be simpler. But Gareth might be onto something. I've got to learn to control this. And if things don't work out, I can always leave. Decision made!" With that, Hermione faced her dad:

"Dad, I'm going to Hogwarts. If I end up not liking it, I can always come back and pick up where I left off at a regular school."

After saying this, she turned to the ministry official and said,

"Lead on, Mr. Bridge."

Gareth smiled at her and agreed:

"I think that's the right decision. Now, let's go to the bank and exchange the money."

Hermione's dad still tried to argue, but Gareth was already on his way to the bank, and Hermione followed him. Mr. Granger just sighed and quickly followed, tugged forward by his wife.

Diagon Alley was teeming with life. Wizards and witches in robes of every color of the rainbow were occasionally bumping into each other, laughing, and exchanging news. Hermione watched the fascinating characters bustling around her with growing curiosity. The alley was packed; clearly, the Grangers weren't the only ones out shopping today. Wizards greeted each other happily, shared the newest gossip, or just enjoyed the sunny day.

In front of one shop, a big crowd had formed. In the middle of it, a witch wearing a robe that sparkled in every shade of blue stood out, making her look like she was surrounded by a deep ocean. She moved her magic wand, and colorful shapes started to appear in the air. These shapes took off, playing and dancing around, changing from dragons to majestic birds. Magical music and light effects made the show even more impressive.

The crowd kept clapping and cheering non-stop. Hermione, completely taken by the show, stood at the edge of the crowd, unable to take her eyes off. But her mom quickly snapped her out of the enchantment, pointing out Mr. Bridge walking away. Hermione took one last, longing look at the magical show, wishing she could stay longer, and then rushed after the ministry official.

As they strolled past the quirky shop fronts, their eyes were drawn to all sorts of things. Behind the shop windows Hermione saw a lot of jewels, wands, robes, enchanted books, quills, and loads of other magical items. It seemed like each window was trying to outdo the others in creativity and selection, perfectly showcasing what was for sale inside. Yet, tucked away in some street corners, were shops dealing in goods that seemed outdated, like cauldrons. Near one of these, Hermione couldn't resist asking Gareth:

"Why are there only cauldrons here? Don't wizards use normal pots or pans for cooking?"

She gave him a curious look, waiting for his answer. Hermione was slightly taken aback by his reaction: Mr. Bridge let out a small smirk at her question, his eyes twinkling with amusement, then he quickly answered in a friendly tone:

"Well, cauldrons aren't for cooking. They're for making potions. The shape, size, and even the material of a cauldron are pretty important. Use the wrong one, and you could end up with a potion that doesn't work or worse, one that backfires. But a standard cauldron should be good enough for most beginners. You, Miss Granger, will need to get one too, for your Potion Making classes at school."

Hermione looked at the cauldrons differently now. She pictured herself in an apron and chef's hat, wielding a ladle and stirring a bubbling green goo in the cauldron… The thought was so funny that she couldn't keep from smiling, and continued looking for other odd things.

"What are brooms for?" Hermione asked. "Must be for some special kind of dirt that only these brooms can sweep up?" she guessed.

Mr. Bridge couldn't help but laugh, amused by Hermione's guess. After a good chuckle, he said:

"Using these brooms for cleaning would be way too extravagant... No, they're for flying!"

"Flying?!" Hermione exclaimed, her eyebrows climbing high. "Like in tales about witches?"

"Absolutely! And I bet that in a few months, you'll be flying on a broom quite well!" Gareth claimed. "An interesting detail, not widely known though," he added, adopting a more confidential tone, "is that brooms were originally devised by wizards solely for flying. The idea of using them for sweeping was cooked up for curious Muggles, wondering about the broom's purpose. You should've seen the magical world's reaction when Muggles bought it and started making their own brooms! Of course, those ones couldn't fly, unlike the real brooms crafted by wizards."

Gareth was clearly enjoying this talk. Walking down the street at a relaxed pace, he shared with Hermione a few more fascinating stories about magic. She was all ears, soaking up every word. Hermione did not know anything about the magical community, so everything Gareth said felt like a revelation.

As they approached the Gringotts Bank, it began to stand out from its surroundings, appearing even more majestic compared to the modest shops and stalls nearby. It stood like a towering guardian safeguarding the secrets and treasures of the magical world.

Suddenly, Hermione noticed a huge, rather unkempt-looking man standing right at the entrance. Just yesterday, Hermione would have bet that such giants were in fairy tales only, yet here one was, right in front of her. Next to him, as if to contrast with his enormous figure, stood a boy of modest height. His black hair was sticking out in all directions, like he'd just walked through a windstorm. This odd pair went through the tall bronze doors and vanished inside the bank.

Right after the mysterious pair went out of her sight, Hermione spotted another astonishing figure by the doors, looking like a doorkeeper. He reminded her of a cartoon dwarf - even shorter than the boy who'd just gone into the bank. The 'dwarf' wore a striking red uniform with gold embroidery. He was closely watching everyone getting near to the door.

"Who's that?" Hermione asked, puzzled, turning to the ministry official.

Gareth took a moment to catch on to who she meant, but after following her gaze, he got it:

"Ah, that's a goblin." Hermione was wide-eyed with shock. Hearing about magical creatures was one thing; meeting a clearly smart, human-like being was another. - Gringotts is run by goblins, so don't be shocked when you see more inside. - he added.

Hermione couldn't stop staring at the goblin, examining him closely until he looked back at her. Feeling embarrassed, she quickly looked away and rushed into the bank, following Mr. Bridge, who had already entered.

Walking into the bank, Hermione and her parents were hit by the sheer size of the lobby. Long desks ran along the walls, with goblins behind them busy at their work. Wizards and witches were moving around too, and Hermione picked up on the fact that they weren't just dealing with money. They often left various, sometimes weird-looking, items for safekeeping.

Gareth confidently headed for the desk at the far end, mentioning on the way:

"Not too many people come in to change Muggle money, so it'll be quick."

He got to the goblin at the desk, cleared his throat to grab his attention, and introduced them:

"Mr. Bridge, on behalf of the Ministry of Magic. I brought a young witch and her parents to change some Muggle cash."

The goblin, tearing his eyes away from his work and looking over Hermione's parents with a bit of scorn, asked:

"How much does Mr. Muggle wish to exchange?" Hermione caught the tone when he said 'Mr. Muggle' and realized that Muggles weren't too popular among magical folk.

"A couple hundred pounds will do," said the ministry official, turning to Hermione's dad.

John took the needed sum from his wallet and gave it to the goblin. The goblin mumbled something and waved his wand over the cash. After a content hum, he counted the coins and handed them to Hermione's dad. Finishing the exchange, the goblin returned to his calculations, ignoring the Grangers and Gareth completely from then on.

John, holding a heavy handful of coins, glanced at them, obviously not knowing what to do next. Gareth took an empty pouch from the counter and handed it to Hermione's dad, saying:

"Wallets aren't really good for coins. Please, use this."

Mr. Granger, a bit wary, looked at the pouch and then carefully poured the coins into it. He ended up following the ministry official, pouch in hand, still confused about where to put it.

First of all, Mr. Bridge led Hermione to a shop selling magic wands. When she heard that, Hermione's eyes sparkled with excitement. She immediately started firing questions at Gareth:

"Tell me, Mr. Bridge, are all magic wands the same, or are there differences? It seems to me that each wand has a unique look. Is it just about their appearance, or is there something different inside them too? How do I choose the best one?"

"Hold on, slow down," Gareth said with a smile, cutting her off, "I'm afraid I can't keep up with so many questions at once. To start, you are right - every wand is unique. They might look similar on the outside, but the core inside them definitely varies, even if just slightly. This is because there are no two unicorn hairs or phoenix feathers that are exactly the same. Even tiny differences can greatly influence a wand's behavior and its capabilities."

"Wand behavior?" Hermione interrupted him, clearly amused, "What do you mean? Are they alive?"

"In a way, yes," Gareth nodded thoughtfully. "As for your last question, Miss Granger, I must say, it's not you who chooses the wand, but the wand chooses you!"

Hermione's mouth fell open in astonishment.

"The wand will choose me? How?"

"It's a very delicate process," Mr. Bridge continued. "Each wand has its own unique magical essence, matching a particular wizard."

"So, I can't just pick any and use it?" Hermione clarified.

"Oh, no," Mr. Bridge assured her. "The wand and the wizard must be in complete harmony. if I may say so, It's like a mutual acceptance. Mr. Ollivander, the owner of the shop we're heading to, has a remarkable gift for determining which wand suits a particular wizard. He will help you find the perfect wand, Miss Granger."

"And how does he do that?" Hermione persisted.

"Ollivander considers many factors: from the wizard's personality to their magical abilities. But no one knows the exact criteria he uses. Let's just say, it's part of his magic," Mr. Bridge mysteriously added, winking at her.

Hermione, overwhelmed with all she had learned, kept following Mr. Bridge, excited to meet Mr. Ollivander and finally get her own magic wand. When they got to the shop, they waited a bit because someone else was still choosing their wand. As they walked in, Mr. Ollivander quickly noticed Hermione.

"Can I know your name, young lady?"

"Hermione."

He gave her another look, as if he was trying to see something hidden, then grabbed a wand from the shelf and handed it to her:

"Try this one. Give it a wave."

Hermione waved the wand, but nothing happened. She glanced at the wand seller. He was staring at her and opening his mouth silently like a fish. 'Weird way to pick a wand,' Hermione thought to herself, half-amused. Then she noticed her mom's concerned look, also silently opening her mouth. That's when Hermione realized it was completely quiet – there was no sound at all. Just as she started to feel scared, Mr. Ollivander gently took the wand back, and suddenly all the sounds came back.

"This one's definitely not for you," he said before beginning to check through other wands methodically. After a few more unsuccessful attempts, he ended up with another wand in his hand. Giving it to Hermione with a small smile, he suggested:

"Try this one."

The moment Hermione swung it, she felt something incredible, like a secret link had formed between her and the wand. Her eyes sparkled with excitement, and Mr. Ollivander, watching her, nodded contently:

"Now that's it. The wand's chosen its owner."

Across from Olivander's shop was a little bookstore that was crowded with children. Mr. Bridge led Hermione and her parents straight to it. The bookstore looked pretty small from the outside, but once they stepped in, they were surprised by how large and filled with books it was. Clearly, magic was involved here.

Hermione felt right at home the moment she walked in. She first grabbed all the textbooks listed for Hogwarts, but her attention quickly shifted to the history of magic section, as well as the latest magical newspapers and magazines. Everything piqued her interest. John tried to protest when he saw the pile of books she was amassing, but Hermione was firm in her resolve. She insisted on learning as much as possible about the magical world to navigate it with confidence. She kept picking out books she believed would help her.

After leaving the shop, poor Mr. Granger was weighed down by the books Hermione had chosen. Seeing his struggle, Gareth quickly cast a spell, making the bags as light as feathers. Mr. Granger let out a sigh of relief and nodded in gratitude to their guide. Then, together, they moved on to their next shopping stop.

After a few hours, they had bought everything Hermione needed for her school. On their way out of Diagon Alley, she spotted a tiny shop filled with magical artifacts and amulets. Hermione was completely captivated by the display of amulets in all shapes and sizes. A sign above read in bold:

SALE:

Every amulet might hold a secret deep,

For just five Sickles, they're yours to keep!

And in smaller print below:

Ancient unidentified amulets.

The shop owner is not responsible for any consequences of using these amulets.

Hermione's eye was caught by an unremarkable amulet with a plain blue stone. For a second, she thought she saw a star sparkle inside it. The moment passed, but her curiosity was piqued, and she stopped, intrigued. Her heart began to beat faster in anticipation of something magical. She went up to the shop owner to ask about these enigmatic items:

"If I knew what they were for, they'd cost a lot more," the shop owner said, sounding tired. "They're this cheap because neither me nor my staff have figured out what to do with them. All I know is they contain some magic, but as for their usage – that's a mystery to me."

"Can I check out that blue amulet with the light inside?" Hermione asked, a bit unsure, nodding towards the amulet that had caught her interest.

"With a light?!" The shopkeeper looked puzzled, grabbing the amulet to look it over carefully. "Weird, I don't remember this one…" he muttered, frowning. "Maybe one of my staff looked at it and missed something?" Turning back, he yelled, "Aurelian, get over here!"

Realizing she had made a mistake, mentioning the light, Hermione quickly added, "I might have been wrong, it was probably just the sunlight reflecting on it."

The shopkeeper eyed Hermione skeptically, still fiddling with the amulet. Just then, Aurelian showed up at the door and, without letting the shopkeeper get a word in, rushed out:

"You're needed urgently by that customer with long black hair. He says he's got only a minute and wants to talk about buying the latest Magnificon."

The Magnificon was a pretty pricey gadget, with the latest model being even more expensive. It boosted the effects of any illusions it was used with. Looking forward to a good sale, the shopkeeper quickly passed the amulet to Aurelian and made his way to the customer waiting for him.

"Do you wanna buy this amulet?" the employee asked Hermione, who nodded right away. She knew she had to act fast while the shopkeeper was distracted; he might reconsider selling the intriguing amulet. Besides, she couldn't shake off the feeling that the amulet winked specifically at her.

Soon, they left Diagon Alley. Mr. Bridge turned to Hermione with a friendly tone, "So, Miss Granger, I'm glad I could show you our world," he said, nodding politely, "Your next step is to be at King's Cross by ten in the morning on the first of September. A ministry official will be there to get you on the Hogwarts Express."

Hermione and her parents started thanking Mr. Bridge for the time he spent with them. He really made a good impression, and probably after a whole day with such a great guide into the world of magic, Hermione's parents felt a lot less worried.

Hearing their thanks, Gareth added one last bit of advice:

"Just be careful with that amulet, Miss Granger. Some unidentified amulets can be pretty dangerous. Good luck!" – and bowing gracefully, he left the Granger family to take care of his other magical duties…