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Wands and Wheezes	By : auntlynnie Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 40170 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: Anti-Litigation Charm: Sadly, I don't own any part of the Harry Potter franchise. Nor do I own any canon characters, locations, or situations. I make no money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Chapter Note: During Hermione's Apprenticeship... friendship blooms... among other things.
Many thanks to my dear beta, LiteraryBeauty. She is teaching me to eschew my unconscious aversion to the word "had".

~*�*~

"Focus, Hermione. What do you smell? What do you hear?" Ollivander prompted.
"I smell the rain. I smell... the damp earth. I hear the rushing wind..."
"What do you feel?"
"I feel the warmth of the fire on my face and the breeze coming in the window."
"Good!" he encouraged gently. "Focus on those sensations, my dear. Give yourself over to them."

~*�*~
After a month or so of frustration, Hermione began to control her Grey Magic meditation, and she was amazed at how it allowed her to tap into her magic in new ways. There were still occasions where her mind just wouldn't slow down, but most days she was able to achieve deep meditation. As she mastered the skill, it brought her a serenity and balance that she hadn't had in her life before.
Of course, once this hurdle was cleared, Hermione Granger was a brilliant apprentice. She soaked up wandlore as well as the skill of wand creation - everything that Ollivander could conceive of teaching her - much more quickly than any other witch or wizard would have done, and Ollivander knew he had chosen well. An expert creator of wands required both skill in harnessing and directing the user's magic as well as an artistry to make the wands beautiful and unique. The final ability required of a quality wandmaker was the cunning to read a person to choose an appropriate assortment of wands to test. Hermione found that this skill was just as critical as the creation of the wand itself. Without the capacity to accurately read a person and evaluate his or her magic, none of the selection of wands she would present would choose the wizard.
As Hermione progressed in her apprenticeship, Ollivander moved from the role of teacher, which required her presence by his side as he created, into the role of advisor, which only required his presence in the shop periodically. All told, her apprenticeship lasted about four years, and Hermione and Ollivander had become like family. When Ollivander was nearing the end of his life, Hermione became his caregiver. She moved into one of the spare rooms in his flat above the shop, and she took care of his every need. Seeing her beloved friend wasting away tore at her heart.
When Ollivander passed away in his sleep, she wept for days. Harry and Ron were on hiatus from Quidditch, so they visited her every evening in the flat above the wand shop, ensuring that she was eating and not spending too much time brooding. The company of her old friends was a great comfort at such a difficult time, even if their chatter was predominantly focused on the sport they both loved and the upcoming season. Their banter about their respective teams was a welcome distraction from her melancholy, and she found that she was learning a great deal about professional Quidditch from an insider's perspective.

~*�*~
When the Ministry revealed the contents of Ollivander's will, Hermione was dumbfounded to find that he had willed the shop and the building to her. She had been so focussed on her training that she had never truly thought so far into the future; it was the first time the shop had been owned by someone other than a member of the Ollivander family since it was first opened in 382 B.C., and she was one of the very few female wandmakers in an extremely male-dominated field, as well. Hermione wasn't sure how people would react to this, but she shouldn't have worried. She was, after all, Hermione Granger.
A few days after the will had been read, Hermione was sitting with Fred and George in their sitting room having tea. "Hermione, you must have realized that he would will the shop to you, love."
Hermione was a bit embarrassed. "No, not really, George. I didn't. I probably should have. It's funny... I just never imagined the shop without him there, even when he was sick. It's always been Ollivander's. I never dreamed I would own it. I assumed I would have to find a location and set up my own shop somewhere. I guess that was foolish of me. I just always imagined that he would be here. I don't quite know what to do next."
Fred snorted in reply. "Hermione Granger? Doesn't know what to do? Aren't you the one who always knows the right thing to do?"
"I wish it were that simple. I know how to manage the business end of the shop. I know how to procure the components. I know how to craft the wands. It just seems wrong to do it all without him... without checking in with him and without him second-guessing me constantly." She grinned wryly. "I didn't realize how much I would miss his interference. I feel a huge gaping Ollivander-shaped hole in my life.
"When I sent my parents to Australia, I felt awful, and I was constantly worried, but this is so much worse. When they left England as Monica and Wendell Wilkins, I knew it was temporary, and it was for the best. I knew that once I restored their memories, I would have them back. That's why I made sure to explain what I was doing and made sure they agreed to the plan before I Obliviated them, so that when I restored their memories, they wouldn't be angry with me. Their decision to stay in Australia was difficult to accept, but they're still alive, and just a Portkey away. But this... I can't do anything. I feel so powerless. He was more than a friend and a mentor; he was more like a grumpy, crotchety, surrogate grandfather, and with him here, the pain of my parents' absence was less acute. I feel a bit... adrift without him puttering around the shop and questioning my every decision. Does that make any sense?"
"Of course it does, but after a while, you'll begin to heal. I think you need..."
"... a hobby."
George cringed at his brother's suggestion, waiting to see how Hermione would react.
Hermione rolled her eyes at his daft proposal. "A hobby? Why do I need a hobby, and how is it supposed to help me grieve, Fred?"
"I think you need to put your considerable brain to work. Focus on other things, as it were."
"Put my brain to work. Hm. I have a job, Fred. As a matter of fact, I have a very fulfilling career that occupies a good portion of my time. What sort of hobby would you suggest?"
"Well, yes, you have a job... a career, but surely you don't spend all your time making wands."
"What Fred means..." George started.
"....when did you get to be such a layabout?" Fred finished.
George gaped at his brother.
Hermione narrowed her eyes at the men. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Fred."
"Well, if I'm not mistaken, you only work on making wands a few hours a day. What do you do with all your free time, when you're just sitting and minding the shop or when the shop's closed?"
"Free time? I don't have much free time. Wandmaking is magically taxing. I can only work at actual wandmaking for a maximum of four hours a day, but it's better if I only do three. Beyond that, I have to mind the shop, make the boxes for the wands..."
"Yeah, so... what do you do with your free time?"
"Other than procuring components, tending the shop, boxing up the wands I've made, and other such mundane details, such as bookkeeping, and actually making the wands, you mean?"
"Right. What do you do with your free time?"
Like she would tell them of her side projects! No, she didn't need anyone mocking her. She wasn't about to open herself up to ridicule. Not bloody likely. She'd only just started the biggest side project of her life, and she didn't need anyone undermining her dedication to it or questioning her ability to complete it.
Hermione sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose to stave off an impending headache. "Believe it or not, boys, that accounts for a good portion of my week. Since I'm relatively new to it all, it still takes me longer than it took Ollivander to get it all done. I suppose I'll get it down to a science eventually, but right now, I haven't much free time."
"All right... so if you're not looking to pick up a hobby, why don't you come over to our flat for brunch on Saturday? Since we're required at the Burrow for Sunday dinner, we could start our own Diagon Alley tradition of Saturday brunch. Since Harry, Ginny, and Ron travel so much between training and Quidditch matches, and the three of us are almost always here on Saturdays, we thought it might be nice to have brunch."
"George, while that was one of the worst attempts at a topic change I've ever heard, that sounds wonderful. A nice, small, quiet brunch... I think it's just the thing. I don't open the shop until noon on Saturdays, anyway, so we could meet at ten. What do you think?"
"I think it sounds perfect. We'll even take turns hosting."
"Okay, so you can host this week, Fred can host next week, and I'll host the week after that! Wonderful!"
"Oi! How is it �wonderful' that we host two weeks in a row, and you only host one?"
"I think it's the most logical conclusion. There are three of us, and each one of us takes a turn hosting. Surely you don't expect to share the work between the two of you on your turn, and then expect me to host all by myself?"
"Well, that's how we've always done everything. We're �Fred and George'. We're a package deal."
"Hm. Sorry. I don't think that quite works for me. I think of you as two individuals, not two halves of a whole. You're too different to think of as a single entity."
"Different? What do you mean, different? We're identical!" the twins exclaimed - in unison, of course.
"Oh, maybe physically, but you have such different personalities, I'm amazed anyone still confuses you! While you both love pranks and jokes, George, you're so much more serious than Fred. You keep your eye on the bottom line for the shop, and between the two of you, you're definitely the practical one. Fred, your imagination seems to be limitless, and you tend to be the instigator between the two of you - if and when George even needs an instigator. It's like you complement each other. But that doesn't make you a single entity. Not even close. And you're not going to trick me into doing twice the work just because you're able to con everyone else into accepting that claptrap argument!"
"Damn, Forge, she's on to us!"
"Right, Gred. Looks like we can't pull the wool over her eyes. She's too damn smart for our own good. Pity."
"All right, love. We'll each take turns. One of us will host every third week. Is that acceptable to you?"
"Oh yes, ever so much. Thank you," she answered, beaming.
And so Saturday brunch was born. The three jealously guarded their brunches. They never told anyone where they were on Saturday mornings. They only just explained that since they had to open the shops at noon, they preferred to keep their mornings free. Most people assumed that Fred and George slept in or were recovering from their Friday nights, and that Hermione was puttering in her shop or reading. The stereotypes their friends and family had about all three of them - Fred and George as the party-loving playboys and Hermione as the nose-to-the-grindstone swot - allowed the perfect cover for their brunches. While they weren't exactly sure why they were guarding this secret so closely, they also felt that this was something just for them, and if anyone of their larger circle of friends and family knew about it, their simple Saturday brunch would morph into another iteration of the Sunday dinner at the Burrow - with Molly at the helm. But their secret was safe - no one expected that the three of them were together every Saturday morning without fail. No one would expect such an odd trio to be forging a strong friendship.

~*�*~
At this point in time, Hermione was still avoiding Sunday dinners at the Burrow. Since all of her closest friends would be in attendance there and she would be alone, she had started researching broommaking a few months prior. In the course of her research, she had deduced that it had to be closely related to wandmaking. Brooms required a rider in order to function, just like a wand required a wizard or a witch. Brooms were even made from the same kinds of woods as wands. It seemed that the biggest difference between wands and brooms would be the charms that had to be imbued into a broom to make it functional and safe. This fascinated Hermione, and made her wonder about instilling charms into wands.
She spent almost all her spare time trying to learn the process. Since broommakers were in the business of manufacturing and selling brooms, they weren't keen on sharing their secrets, or there would be even more competition in the market. So, Hermione did what she does best. She researched and she experimented. It wasn't easy. The information that was available to the public made broommaking seem so arcane, so complex, so difficult, that the majority of people would never attempt to create their own broom. The more research she did, the more she realized that that was probably a good thing. A poorly made broom could be downright dangerous, hence her reticence to ride one.
Finally, exasperated, Hermione did something she never imagined she would do. She bought a broom. However, unlike most of the broom-buying world, her intent was to deconstruct it and learn its secrets. It was the best thing she could have ever done for the progress of her project. She was delighted to learn that not only was she right about brooms being related to wands, they were made using the same Grey Magic, hence the dearth of written information. This was the sort of information transferred from Master to Apprentice.
Hermione set up a separate work bench for her broom project, determined to succeed.
Hermione found it interesting that Fred had suggested a hobby less than a month after she had decided to construct a better, safer broom. She was almost leery that the wily man had cottoned on to what she was doing. The timing seemed almost too opportune, but she wasn't going to mention anything, just in case it was just a coincidence.

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Wands and Wheezes