In Essence Divided

Chapter 6

The first time out of the hospital was hard for George. Fred hadn’t left either, and it was both of their first times going back to their home. Fred felt small as the group of Aurors went before them and searched the house; and for a moment he felt like he was five and asking his father to come into his room in the middle of the night and look for boggarts under the bed. It was foolish really, but all the fussing seemed to make everyone else feel better, so George and Fred kept quiet. A part of them that would never admit it was grateful that the added attention was being paid to them, now it was comforting.

Their parents proved to be hard to get rid of that night; they didn’t seem to want to leave the twins alone. Molly couldn’t keep her tears behind her handkerchief, and Arthur kept clearing his throat at odd moments. Fred finally met George’s eyes and George put on a show of yawning and nodding off. Mum and Dad kissed them goodbye and flooed back to the Burrow. No doubt they would be back at the crack of dawn the following morning. Fred knew that it was a matter of time before their overbearing but well intentioned mother was going to smother them. All he wanted was for everything to be back to normal. Everyone seemed to want to watch them pick up the pieces. They were going to get tired of putting on a show for everyone. Fred shook his head to clear those thoughts away.

George and Fred said goodnight to each other shortly after. There would be a lot of time to talk the next morning. They planned to keep the shop closed for a few days, just to regroup. Both men fell asleep with troubled dreams and tossed around in their beds all night.

“Fred. Fred, wake up mate.” George had woken him with a worried look on his face. The sun had just appeared at the edge of the window, Fred wondered what had gotten his twin out of bed before him.

Fred bolted awake in his bed and grabbed his wand. “What is it! Is there someone here?” His brother looked very upset and Fred struggled to look around him, half expecting to see wizards looming behind him. Groggy a moment ago, suddenly his heart was pounding in his chest.

“Put the wand down, fat lot of good it will do. Mine’s broke.” George waved it around the room, to no avail. Nothing happened, not even a sputter. George shook it again, tapped it against the headboard, but nothing happened.

“What do you mean?” Fred raised his want and attempted to conjure a cup of coffee, which he really needed just then. Nothing happened. He did the same things as his brother, and still nothing. He threw it on the mattress beside him and huffed.

“I think they’re broke.” George plopped down in the edge of his brother’s bed and vigorously rubbed his face, trying to wake himself up. He laid back down, feeling weaker than he normally did.

“We can’t be here with no wands. We have to go to Ollivander’s right away. Imagine if mum knew we were here all night with broken wands. She’d go mad.” Fred got out of bed and started changing quickly. George followed, grabbing some of Fred’s clothes. George was always too lazy to properly do laundry, and now with a broken wand he was sure not to have anything remotely clean. Fred had a point though, they shouldn’t be here with broken wands. There was nothing they had defense wise that measured up to their wand. Fred had used his mother as en excuse, but he was really hiding his own fear and shock that they had been unarmed for so long.

They left the shop, careful to set all of the charms that Dumbledore instructed them to. Kingsley met them outside the door and listened as Fred hissed an expiation about the wands. It was Kingsley that enabled the charms and the wards so that the building was safe while they were gone. They made their way down the street, the going was slower and the boys didn’t walk their usual upbeat gait. George was still slow and lagged behind, but Fred matched his gait and they walked in mostly silence. Georges breathing was ragged after a short distance, but he waved Fred’s hand away. By the time they reached a point that they could apparate from, George was almost visibly unwell. Dumbledore had warned them to not even attempt to disapparated from the house. They hadn’t asked what would happen, but from the disturbed look on his face, they had learned long ago not to ask. Fred offered his arm to his brother again to steady him. It made him ache to see him like this and not do anything.

“Don’t worry about it. I was in a bed for how long? I need to get back on a broom, ‘s what I need.” Both of the boys smiled, maybe they would stop by the Burrow today, if only to take out their brooms for a much needed freshener. Fred sighed almost with relief that George was making light of the situation and trying to think of something to do other than worry about their situation.

Ollivander’s shop was empty. He didn’t get much business since school had already started. Most repairs and a few stragglers. He looked up from his tools when they came in. He gave them a sympathetic nod as they made their way to the counter. He had on the desk behind the counted an assortment of wand wood and cores, Fred and George assumed that this was how he spent the off season, making his merchandise. They started a bit as the heavy bolt on the door behind them slid into place as they walked in.

Ollivander was no fool. Anyone who possessed skills that the Dark Lord deemed valuable was at risk. He had made the Dark Lord’s wand, and in fact all of the Death Eaters’ as well. He knew the paranoia that he would be taken from his bed in the middle of the night and forced to better the Dark Lord’s advantage. It was a fear that he lived with every day, and the lines on his already old face showed it. Ollivander also knew of the boy’s experiments with defense products and had no doubt that they were being persecuted over something of that sort. Word traveled fast in the community, and he felt bad for the boys that he had watched grow up in front of him. But the way George was attacked didn’t seem like their style, something about it seemed out of place, he couldn’t place his finger on it.

Fred’s voice snapped him from his thoughts, “Our wands stopped working this morning.” He said in a voice that had just a twinge of anxiousness in it.

“Is that so? Just this morning?” Ollivander had a sinking feeling. It was something he feared when anyone went through a significant change in their life. He had been wondering if it was going to happen to the twins, and as he listened, he knew that there had been a large change in the boys. Not only their lives, but it would be in the way that they lived them from now on.

“I went to conjure coffee and nothing, we tried a book full of spells, but nothing happened.” George furrowed his brow. He tried as hard as his brother to sound nonchalant, but couldn’t seem to pull it off.

“Are you sure they just didn’t work this morning?” Ollivander was already digging through boxes looking for something. He had a feeling that the wands hadn’t worked for longer than that.

“Well, now that you say that, we didn’t use them at all in the hospital. Did those people who attacked me have something to do with this?” George’s eyes were wide. Another affect of the attack, he could feel himself getting angry.

Ollivander shook his head. “No, I’m afraid not directly. But the wand chooses the wizard. And your wands just don’t work your purposes anymore.” It was sad, but sometimes happened as boys became men and their stations in life changed. He knew of wizards that needed new wands after marriage, children, sometimes a close death, a breakup. Anything traumatic enough could change the magic in a person that fueled the wand.

“So these are garbage now?” Fred looked at his wand. He had grown accustomed to it. He didn’t really want to part with it.

“No, by all means, no! Keep them in a safe place, this could be a passing event, but it seldom happens like that.” Ollivander pulled out two identical boxes. It was rare that a person could change their feeling back to what it was before they changed, but he had hope that the two resilient boys before him could manage it.

“So we need new wands?” George looked at the boxes and put his wand away, tucking it inside his robes. He didn’t want to get a new wand, he had hoped that there was a spell or something that could have made them work again.

“That you do. Now, the wands that you have now, as you know are birch. They are cored with one feather from the Loki bird and halved, one for each wand. They are made for pranksters such as yourselves and have taken to you quite nicely. Now we have to find out what has changed in you and a proper wand will be in order.” Ollivander opened the two boxes and handed each of them a wand. They gave them a swish and nothing happened.

“Well, that’s about what we’re working with right now.” Fred said dryly.

“How will you know what we need in a wand?” George watched as he put those away and grabbed another set of boxes. He remembered the first time he had been here to get a wand. He thought the building was going to have to be rebuilt from the ground up, all the damage that they had done.

“Well, that is where my art comes in. Any gent can make a wand, it’s really not that hard. But to pair the wand with the wizard is the key. I can’t describe it, but I get a feeling for the wizard and it seems my hands know exactly where to go, and voila! No, those aren’t right.” He got out the third set of boxes and handed them another pair. “Sometimes it takes a few tries.” He added.

Fred waved his wand and watched as the wands sprawled on the counter began to march about the table. Ollivander nodded his approval and Fred made the wands lay back down. It seemed that they had found a pair of wands that were willing to work with them at last.

George waved his wand and boxes began to open and shift around as though they were looking for something. He waved it again and the movement stopped. Ollivander gave another small smile. This was going better than the last time, and George caught his smile and returned it. “We’re loads better than we used to be.”

“For that, I am grateful indeed. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll hang on to those old wands for safe keeping and we’ll consider it a hopefully temporary trade.” Ollivander took the old wands and carefully placed them in a box together under the counter. He did hope that they would be back for them, but the truth was, if they had stopped working for the boys for good, they would have to be retired and broken. It hurt him to see something he created destroyed, and he frowned at the thought.

“Why hopefully temporary?” Fred had caught the solemn look on his face.

“Well, those wands that you have in your hands are another twin set of wands. They are oak, and if you noticed, longer than the last. They have a core made of a single hair; one is said to be from Justice herself, and the other a hair from the head of her twin sister, Truth. They have never given another hair to anyone, and I was lucky to receive it. And these wands have worked for no one else. They are of a very few set of twin wands I ever made. Back when I first started. I never thought that they would have to be used by anyone, and I was trusted to find the proper masters for them. Please take good care of them and use them wisely.” Ollivander gave them a significant look.

“We will.” They answered simultaneously. After a few goodbyes and more chitchat, they made their way out of the store. They were sure that their mother was standing outside of the store in panic looking for them, and they didn’t want to keep her waiting.