the fear has gripped me but here i go
Blurb
Existential crisis sounded too simple, a much watered-down version of reality right now, because everything they’d been told, everything that they had been indoctrinated to believe was a lie. A fabrication to vindicate the winning side of the First Wizarding War.
Hermione’s world had come crashing down. Not at once of course, but piece by piece, brick by brick the walls that constructed her understanding of the world around her fell until all that was left was rubble. Leaving her grasping at straws trying to understand where she stood in this new world.
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There are distinct moments in someone's life that mark a shift. Not a simple change in hair color or who you sit next to in class or a friend who is now a stranger. No, we are talking about a monumental reality-shifting event that leads you to question everything you’ve ever known about your existence.
It would be easy to remain stagnant in disbelief, pretend that your world hasn’t just shifted on its axis and that you no longer know where your true north is anymore. To wallow in all that you’ve lost and pretend that this revelation hasn’t changed the way you perceive not only yourself but everyone around you.
However hard the shuffle of trying to find the new you may be, it allows the opportunity for reinvention. Rebirth is like the seasons changing from winter to spring. The weak crumble in the face of adversity, and allow their betters to lead them by the nose into destruction and mayhem. If there’s one thing Hermione refuses to be, it is weak.
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Hermione had known for some time that things were changing immeasurably. When Harry and Cedric returned with the Tri-Wizard cup, Hermione felt her worries melt away for one entirely joyous moment. Then it all came crashing down when Cedric didn't move and Harry hunched over him as if he might somehow protect him from the death he had already suffered. It reminded her of the moment right after you wind a time-turner, still and then all at once, like the build-up of water behind a dam before it breaks and rushes forward.
When Hermione and Ron finally saw Harry, after the reveal of Barty Crouch Jr. parading as Professor Moody, he looked haunted. Shaken to his core, having witnessed the rebirth of evil in real time, violated to give life to an enemy his birth garnered. His trust in a professor was betrayed so cruelly. Everything up to this point had seemed minor in comparison.
The end of the fourth year passed in a blur, Hermione studied and revised, forced Harry and Ron to join her but she noticed the toll it had taken on Harry. While Ron tried to cheer him up, with the help of Fred and George, Hermione attempted to lessen the burden for him and helped even more than she had previously with his studies. Finally, they completed the year and boarded the train back to London, aware that their lives had once again changed, and not for the better.
Hermione had spent the first few weeks of the summer holiday trying to enjoy the time she had at home with her parents, soaking up the love and acceptance she received from them. Bask in the normalcy. Sometimes it worked and distracted her from her “otherness” but when it didn’t, she’d fall into a spiral of conflicting thoughts and emotions.
Hermione wasn't sure where she belonged any longer, while her parents loved her, there was a distance between them, a cavern between her reality and theirs. Hermione longed for acceptance and belonging.
She’d always been seen as odd growing up in the muggle world. Studious, yes, but she’d made other kids uncomfortable. Especially after a bout of incidental magic in primary school, when a bully had pushed her before yanking her favorite book from her grasp and throwing it into the koi pond. She had been furious and her magic reacted with the same intensity, pushing the boy into the pond and holding him underwater until other students came and yanked him out. They’d decided she was a freak after that, their overt bullying quelling to whispers and murmured taunts.
Then McGonagall came to her house the summer before first year and she thought it was over. She wasn’t an island unto herself, there were others just like her, waiting to find their place in the world just like her.
She arrived at Hogwarts, her new beginning. Only to find out that her academic fervor was not appreciated, and she was once again other. Because muggle-borns weren’t truly accepted in Wizarding society. She would always be seen as less because of her parentage, an interloper in a society the elite wished was closed.
So she worked even harder. Proving to herself and them that she was just as proficient and talented regardless of who her parents were.
Sometimes she wondered if Harry and Ron would have befriended her if the troll hadn’t found her in the bathroom on Halloween. If they would’ve continued to ostracize her and criticize her “Know-it-all” attitude.
She thanked God that the troll attack had happened. She had the opportunity to prove herself to be an invaluable friend in the trials to enter the Chamber of Secrets. While it was terrifying she was even grateful for the basilisk second year. Because it solidified their friendship.
It gave her Harry, her best friend, brother, her twin flame. He needed her and she wanted to feel needed. Because then he wouldn’t abandon her. Not the way Ron had abandoned Harry when his name had been drawn as a Tri-Wizard champion.
Harry was family, and she would do anything to protect him. They’d both grown up in the muggle world, and he was there when she expressed missing the comforts of home, to hold her hand and talk about funny shows on the telly.
Every day an owl had come to deliver the post, and every day the excitement she held for being home with her parents waned. Mysterious activity, missing people. The Dark Lord was back and his servants were eager to continue his work.
She knew they would come for Harry again, that all these years of fighting off Voldemort by the skin of their teeth and pure luck were about to come to an end. Luck wasn’t going to save them now. Not with a corporeal Voldemort on the loose once again. They had one option, adapt or die. Evolve or become wiped from the histories of this world as if they’d never existed at all.
While she feared the target that would undoubtedly go on her back as being a close friend to the boy who lived, she feared the world they would create if they won. Logically speaking she didn’t need to stay or fight. She could take the money she’d inherited from the death of her Maternal Grandparents, convince her parents it wasn't safe here, and flee the country, but deep down she knew he wouldn't stop at Britain. She also knew she couldn't abandon Harry, she feared most of all, a world where the only person who accepted all of her was gone. That version of the future was untenable.
Reading wasn’t going to solve this problem for them. No amount of research could compare or compete with the practical skills of trained, adult Death Eaters, not to mention the multitude of creatures Voldemort was sure to bring to his side once again. They needed experience, needed practice in healing spells, higher-level defensive spells, and darker offensive spells. It was clear that she needed to make a plan. She couldn’t practice spells with the trace on her wand but she needed to train. Hermione realized she needed an untraceable wand, for herself and Harry, wands not registered with the ministry. They didn't have the luxury of growing up in a magical home, where the trace was essentially ineffective. Knocturn Alley seemed her best bet, loath as she was to venture there alone. Glamour wasn't an option, so polyjuice would have to work.
For the next week, Hermione made multiple trips into Diagon Alley. Her first trip included transferring her Trust and Inheritance from her Grandparents to her vault at Gringotts.
Her second trip took her to Flourish and Botts to find books on higher-level defensive spells. While she was able to find many books on healing and diagnostic spells, defensive and offensive spell books were now very restricted. Books previously used for teaching the higher years at Hogwarts were no longer available. When asking for specific titles she was told the Ministry had ordered bookstores to take them off the shelves or face being closed down.
The ministry was clearly worried but what good would removing the books from shelves possibly do? The only people left at a disadvantage would be Muggle-borns who didn’t have family libraries to research in. That and those who had never prioritized Defense Against The Dark Arts while in attendance at Hogwarts.
Her next trip would have to be to Madam Malkin’s to get a set of dark robes, as well as the apothecary to purchase a batch of polyjuice. That should be enough to disguise herself and then she could make a trip into Knocturn.
Surely Knocturn Alley would have what she needed right? It was the black market of Britain's Wizarding World. Borgin and Burkes could probably supply her and Harry with a spare wand, and they would need that to avoid the trace.
Three weeks of summer break had flown by and Hermione knew she needed to hurry if she was going to make any progress before leaving to join Harry and Ron for the remainder of the summer.
Making her way through a bustling Diagon Alley she pulled the hood of her cloak over her head until all anyone could see was the bottom of her face and slipped into the apothecary. Inside was mostly empty, aside from a couple of patrons looking at the potion ingredients lining the shelves. Content to wait until the store emptied, Hermione started collecting the ingredients for polyjuice in case she needed another batch but couldn't make it back here to buy a premade potion. Just as she grabbed a basket to shop, the bell above the door chimed. Lifting her hood discreetly, she saw none other than Professor Snape striding into the room, robes billowing behind him.
Her heart started racing at the chance of being caught, knowing her potions professor barely tolerated her, she feared the outcome of being discovered here. Turning back towards the shelves, she wondered what business Snape had at the shop. It could be seen as perfectly normal that a potions master would be visiting an apothecary, but glancing out of the
side of her hood Hermione watched as Snape leaned over the counter and spoke in low tones to the shopkeeper.
She thought the interaction was odd, but with no disguise herself, she knew that she’d have to file away the encounter in her mind and move on. Moments later Snape retrieved a package and stormed out of the shop.
The shopkeeper seemed unsettled and distracted. So she took advantage, walked up to the counter, lowered her voice to disguise it as much as possible without a spell, purchased
her wares, and rushed out of the store. While appreciated she thought it odd that had been so easy.
Checking the time, Hermione realized it was still too early to venture to Borgin & Burkes, so she made her way to Flourish & Botts to peruse the book selection and bide her time.
Hours later Hermione had bought five books and read one halfway through. Diagon Alley was finally barren enough for her to put the next steps of her plan into motion. Pulling the hair from an unsuspecting witch waiting in line at the counter, Hermione walked to the bathroom to take her potion. Dropping the hair of the aforementioned witch into the vial, she swished it around before downing it in one gulp.
Fifteen minutes later, and wearing an entirely new face, Hermione was standing outside of Borkin and Burkes, stomach in knots. Her hands shook slightly, she smoothed out her robes and straightened out her cloak before making her way inside the notorious store.
She noted that the store was devoid of customers and let out a silent sigh of relief. Not wanting to dawdle, Hermione walked right up to the counter. Looking up at the older gangly man at the counter shuffling through paperwork, she spoke, “I need an unregistered wand.”
The man put the papers down and raising his eyes, the man scoffed. “I’m afraid, per Ministry decree, we don't sell unregistered wands.”
She pulled her heavy coin purse and set it on the counter and looked up at Mr. Burke. “I need two unregistered wands,” Hermione repeated herself.
His eyes widened greedily, “Mr.Burke at your service. Give me a moment and I’ll bring them out,“ Walking momentarily into a back room, he returned to the counter with a carved wooden box. Pulling the lid off and contemplating for a moment he pulled out three wands.
The first was an elm, the second a pine, and the third a covetous ebony wand. However, none felt right in the palm of her hand. Wand lore was relatively obscure knowledge, imparted through families in the business of wand-making themselves, like the Ollivanders. However, Hermione managed to find a book earlier that had a brief description of the wood and core archetypes. and based on the limited knowledge she had, none would suit Harry either.
Following her instincts Hermione reached across the counter, put her hand in the carved box, and felt around. She pulled out a Blackthorn wand for Harry and set it on the counter.
Reaching back into the box she pushed the other wands aside within the box her hand brushed against one at the bottom and a shiver ran up her arm. Knowing this was the wand for her, she grasped it within her palm and pulled it out.
Looking at her new wand, she couldn’t determine by sight alone what wood type it was. While dark like Ebony wood she knew that wasn’t it.
“Ma’am this is highly irregular, surely you understand you can’t just reach across the counter.” Mr.Burke stuttered.
“I simply wanted to save us both time Sir, apologies for my lapse in decorum.”
“I understand, however, that wand is not for sale,” he grumbled, pointing to the one she had chosen for herself.
It must be special if he’s not willing to part with it, Hermione thought. “And why is that?” she questioned.
“It’s made of Snakewood, ma’am. Very rare, and very expensive. Surely one of the other wands would suit better…”He trailed off looking flustered.
“No, I will take this one.” Hermione opened her extended coin purse and started making stacks of galleons on the counter, stopping when she reached sixty gold galleons. “Will this suffice? A wand at Ollivander’s costs around 10 galleons.”
“I’m afraid it is a very rare wand and untraceable. I wasn't planning on parting with it,” he replied, implying the gold offered wasn't enough.
Hermione reached into the purse again and doubled the amount on the counter. “I’m positive that this offer is more than enough to buy both wands and your discretion.” She said, with a raised eyebrow.
Mr. Burkes sputtered and nodded his head quickly, grasping at the coins and placing them in a chest behind the counter.
Placing both wands in the pocket of her cloak, Hermione made her way out of the store and shuffled quickly through the alleys until she made it back to the Leaky Cauldron, coming out in Muggle London and journeying home.