Disclaimer: This fic was written for a challenge on the LiveJournal community 30minutefics.
Author's Notes: Some sort of thanks goes to Ceddy (heehee) from Accio Firebolt. Thanks for helping me get to the end!
"Ronald, that's the third time you've broken your wand! How many times do I have to tell you that we can't afford to get you a new one?" Mrs. Weasley scolded Ron one summer morning. He had tripped over a pile of laundry while making his way down the stairs for breakfast, and his wand managed to fall out and snap into two.
Fred and George snickered as they gouged their pancakes and bacon. It had actually been their fault the last time Ron's wand broke ten months ago. Ron should be more careful where he puts that thing, really.
"Will I still be able to get a new one? I can't even get on the train if I don't have a wand! I do have to graduate this year, you know," Ron complained. He took a seat directly across from them, keeping one eye on his plate and the other on the twins.
"Ask your father when he gets home. He might have to stop at Diagon Alley in a few days anyways…" she trailed off, staring out the window at a tree swaying with in the breeze.
"A few days! How am I supposed to survive around here without a wand for that long?" Ron shot, trying not to get upset. Fred and George snickered again.
"Don't worry, mum, we'll take him to Diagon Alley when we go to open up the shop later," George offered, his eyes dancing. Ron swore under his breath and grumbled.
"Would you? And could you take Ginny too? She needs some new robes," she smiled slightly, ignoring Ron's grumbles. He let his head fall to the table, and quivered slightly.
Ginny settled down next to Ron on the bench outside of Florean Fortesque's, holding her banana split in one hand and a bag of newly-purchased robes in the other.
"What's got you down?" she inquired thoughtfully, noticing his slumped cross-armed position on the edge of the bench. "D'you want some of my ice cream?" She lifted the bowl to his face to tempt him. He pushed it away and made an indistinct mumble.
"What was that, hm?" she teased. She leaned her ear closer. "Sorry, couldn't make that out, Ron." He snorted and looked away.
"Just because your wand broke, it's not the end of the world," she informed. "Fred and George aren't that mean. Just because last time your wand broke they put it-" she stopped. "-never mind." Ron remained silent. Ginny sat up straight again and continued eating her banana split.
"He can always piece it back together, Molly!" Mr. Weasley tried to make her understand. "He can't go on like this forever!"
"You can't make him let go, Arthur. She's gone and there's nothing we can do about it. You can't just piece it back together. You can't piece someone's heart back together in one day either," she reasoned with her husband. She shook her head in confusion and disbelief.
"Well what do you want him to do with it, just trash it? She gave it to him for Christmas a year ago, Molly. You can't just expect him to forget it!" Arthur too shook his hand.
"We can't decide for him; he needs to make his own choices. She's not easy to forget, Arthur," she said, turning back to her work on the kitchen counter.
"That's right; she's not easy to forget."
"Come on, Ron," Ginny pulled on Ron's arm, trying to remove him from the bench. "We have to get your wand. Don't you want to graduate?" she repeated what she had heard from upstairs earlier. He didn't budge.
"We're not making you get rid of your old wand, you know." His eyes flickered for a minute, and then the light died again. "Well, I guess I'll go and get my book at Flourish and Blotts. I'll take your list too, if you want," she offered, and Ron nodded. She dug through his bag and pulled out his own list, then walked across the brick road to the bookstore.
Ron stood up some time after Ginny left, and walked up to the window of Florean Fortesque's. Nothing on the menu struck his hunger. He looked away, back at the bookstore, and then leaned on the counter absentmindedly.
"What's on your mind, son?" a kindly lady of age inquired courteously, standing on the opposite side of the order window. Ron jumped up and nearly hit his hand on the top of the window frame.
"Oh, um… nothing," he answered quietly. He looked away once more at Flourish and Blotts, and then turned back to the lady.
"Are you sure? I'm no expert at the problems of young wizards such as yourself, but I can whip you up a sundae if you'd like," she offered, smiling. Ron shrugged and gave her enough sickles for a cup of ice cream. He took in spoons of it occasionally, and spoke nothing the whole while, still standing at the window.
"My wand is broken," he said absently, staring across the alley at the bookstore.
"Are you going to get a new one?" she asked.
"I have to, or else I can't graduate this year," he answered, still gazing.
"Have you gotten one yet?"
"Can't."
"No money?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because she gave it to me when my twin brothers broke my old wand two years ago."
"She?"
"Yeah, she. Her. Hermione," Ron stated plainly. He dumped the remains of his ice cream in the trash can under the windowsill. The witch said nothing.
"Where's Ron?" Fred demanded of Ginny when she arrived at the joke shop without her brother.
"He wouldn't leave the bench," she said.
"What bench?" George asked.
"The one across from Flourish and Blotts. That bench," she answered, dropping her bags behind the counter and sitting in the stool on the other side.
"Oh," both twins grimaced slightly.
"Harry can't help him. We know that already. There's nothing that can help him besides himself. He has to get through it in his own time," Arthur said, standing up from the kitchen table and walking up beside his wife at the counter.
"We're already on the same side, Arthur. Don't push it even more," she smiled slightly and scrubbed another bowl. "But can't we just get Harry here before he has to go back to school next week?"
"What's so special about that wand?" the witch at the counter asked him, both still standing on opposite sides.
"She gave it to me."
"Okay, I'll rephrase that, what's so special about her?"
Ron didn't answer.
"Well where is he then?" George prodded Ginny in the arm.
"I don't know, for the last bloody time!" she shot in his face, and then tried to calm herself.
"Here, have a mint, dear sister," Fred offered, snickering under his breath. He grabbed a miniscule blue wrapped square from the cup and shoved it in her hand.
"I tried those last week. I'm not falling for that again," she retorted, dropping it back into the cup.
"Maybe he won't fall for it again either," George said. The three silent stood up and prepared to Floo back to the Burrow.
Moments later, the twins and Ginny stumbled out of the fireplace covered in soot, into the hallway of the Burrow.
"Where's Ron?" Molly immediately demanded from them.
"He wouldn't budge from the bench," Ginny said.
"What bench?" Arthur asked.
"That bench."
"When did it happen?" the witch asked after a long-winded story from Ron.
"Before the holidays – just three months ago," he said gloomily, resting his head in his hands on the counter.
"Have you pieced it back together yet?" she asked, dishing up a sundae for another customer. She gave him a sympathetic look and handed it to the wizard beside Ron.
"You left him there, all by himself?" Molly exclaimed. The twins backed off several inches.
"He wouldn't move, mum! Ginny was pulling at him for ten whole minutes!" Fred retorted. "He won't let go."
"We've done all we can to help him, mum. He's the one most scarred by it all. He was the only one who was there. You can't take it away from him," Ginny said hotly. She leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms.
"Well, we're going to close up here in a few minutes," the witch at the window said, pointing to the clock.
"That's alright. I should be going home anyways," Ron looked at the clock and stood from his seat. "I'll just be going now, I guess."
"I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name, young man," she asked as the rag wiped the counters clean.
"Ron Weasley," he stated, and turned to walk away.
"Oh," she gasped. He walked off.
A loud snap erupted in the kitchen of the Burrow, and when Ron collided with the railing of the stairs, George caught him from behind.
"Thanks," he muttered, standing up and leaning on the railing. Both his mum and dad left the room, leaving him with Ginny, Fred, and George.
"Where are the pieces?" Fred demanded.
"In my pocket. Why?" he defended himself, placing one hand on his pocket.
"What are you going to do with them, Ron?" Ginny asked pleasantly, trying not to make him upset.
"I dunno," he shrugged, still covering his pocket.
"Did you get a new wand?" Fred asked.
"No."
"Why not?" George inquired.
"Because I can't."
"Why not?" Ginny wondered aloud.
"I went through this conversation with someone else already; I don't want to go through it again," Ron sniffed and slumped back in his seat, leaving only his shoulders and head in view.
"We know the way it goes, Ron," George reminded him. Ron snorted.
"Could you two leave, please?" Ginny look at the twins pleadingly. Fred and George huffed, stood up, and went up the stairs.
"Ron, tell me what's wrong. I won't leave you alone, not even when we're at Hogwarts, until you do," she interrogated, scooting over to the seat next to him. He sat up a little.
"You know what's wrong," he retorted, not facing her.
"But I want to hear it from you."
Silence.
"If you get a new wand, it's just replacing your old one, not her. There's a difference there," Ginny reasoned. "Remember that box I gave you for your birthday, the one that fits a jillion cubes or whatever in it? If that broke, and you got another one, I'd still be here," she paused, "wouldn't I?"
He nodded.
"So what're you going to do with the wand, piece it back together? You can't do that, you know," she continued.
"Why not?" He sat up.
"Because you have to piece your heart back together first."
Author's Notes: Reviews are nice birthday presents (March 2nd!).