Harry Potter - A male reader insert [Hermione x Male Reader]

Whispers of Diagon Alley

"A Wizard?" I asked, "but how? I...I can't do any magic, not like you."

"That's what you think, young man, but magic, like any skill, must be developed. Some are gifted, true," he said, flashing me a quizzical smile, "and some are not."

"Does that mean I am not?"

Dumbledore sighed, straightening the curve of his back.

"Why would you ask such a thing?"

"Well, someone with a gift would've developed some signs of magic by now, wouldn't they?"

"Just a moment ago you knew not of the existence of magic and this world that's been hidden away from you, yet now you jump to assumptions," he chuckled, "I suggest you take it slower and just follow along. Tell me, are you tired?"

"No, not anymore. Sleep leapt right out of my lap."

"Very good. Would you like to accompany me, Y/N?"

"What, where...at this hour?"

"The Wizarding World does not sleep, young man. At all hours of the day there are people in need of all sorts of magical items."

"I...I would love to come...but...we cannot leave through the door, Jeeves would be onto us right away."

"Who said anything about leaving through the door?" Dumbledore smiled, placing his hand in his pocket and starting to wave his robes around as he went in search of something.

"The window doesn't work either, he'd hear it, and besides, it's quite the drop."

"Oh, young man, there are so many things you are still to learn," Dumbledore sighed, moving slowly, sure of himself, away from me and throughout my fireplace. "You see, since we are talking about the Wizarding World here, our leave can be quite...magical."

I saw him take his hand out of his pocket. He held something in it, a fistful of something I could not quite see due to the angle. Yet just as I tried leaning over to give it a look, he turned around and opened his hand.

"Look, Y/N," he said.

In his palm, a clump of glittering green dust rested in the shape of a small mound. Even in the darkness of my room, it sparkled on, bringing forth its own light, not caring at all about the natural world and how it was supposed to work.

"What is this?"

"It's called Floo Powder," Dumbledore said in a tone that told me I was supposed to memorise what he was saying, "us wizards can use it to travel from place to place."

"Do you snort it?" I asked.

"Oh my, how preposterous, young man," he leaned back, a look of glee hidden behind his long, white whiskers. "Of course you don't snort it! You throw it in a fireplace! You see, there are routes and tunnels connected throughout the entire Wizarding World, this Floo Powder gives access to them."

"But, this house is not part of such a world."

"It is not indeed, but do not worry, oh, come on, do not look so disappointed. Do you think I would be holding this in my hand if it weren't possible to be used? Come on, Y/N, light up the fire, I will wait."

I nodded at him, slowly moving towards the fireplace. The firewood was already there, bits of ash crumpled together, floating gently through the air, dancing around in tandem with particles of dust. I picked up the matchstick box, scraped a match against it and watched it spark to life.

I turned towards Dumbledore, for approval to do something I didn't understand. He simply nodded, giving me the strength to throw the lit match onto the firewood. Splinters bore the flame first, then, from there, it quickly spread over the rest of the firewood, engulfing them in flames all together.