It's Better If You Do

“What could be taking them so long?” Bellamy asked as she stood outside of the wand shop. The black trim read “Ollivander’s” then below that in finer script “Maker of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.” Fred was leaned against the brick wall just beside the building, his sour mood had returned with the length of time it took for George and Rose to meet up with them. He gave a loud sigh that brought Bellamy’s attention to him. “Don’t look so down, Fred,” she said softly, “I told you that Rose was blaming herself for everything.”

“Yeah, but what if George couldn’t get her to see me again?” He asked, looking as desperate as Bellamy had ever seen him. She merely stared back up and him, placing her hands on her hips. Fred risked himself a glance at the volatile brunette and the look she was giving him made him feel like the stupidest person to ever walk the planet.

“Fred,” she started in a very restrained voice, “my sister is absolutely crazy about you. I have never seen her act around anyone like she does when she’s around you. So, you better cut it out with this moping attitude and believe me when I say that she doesn’t blame you at all.” Fred merely nodded sheepishly, looking away from Bellamy and biting in his lips.

“I suppose you’re right,” he said softly. Bellamy let out a small hum and looked over at him. Perhaps she was being a bit too harsh on him. After all, she hadn’t had much sleep, was missing lunch, and it was turning out to be a rather humid, mid-May day. All were a combination that made the woman very annoyed and short-fused.

“Whenever Rose gets here,” Bellamy said in a soft voice, “all this worrying you’re doing is going to seem absolutely silly, I promise.” She gave him a reassuring smile and he was about to reply when a loud pop resounded in front of the two of them, causing Bellamy to jump a bit in surprise. Fred and Bellamy turned from each other and turned to George and Rose. Before Bellamy had the chance to say anything to Rose, Fred had stepped in front of her, blocking Rose from her view. She let out a slightly impatient sigh by took a step back, crossing her arms over her chest.

Fred gingerly took Rose’s previously injured wrist in his hands and turned it over gently, his brow furrowed with concern. There was no evidence of his anger anywhere and it certainly didn’t appear to be broken. Rose was watching him intensely, her light blue eyes worried and anxious. Slowly, Fred looked up at her, drawing in a deep breath of air.

“I’m so sorry, Rose,” he apologized sincerely. “I don’t know what came over me…all I remember seeing was red and being so angry.” He shook his head a bit, taking Rose’s hands gently into his. “I want you to know that I would never do something like that to you if I were in my right mind. I feel bad enough now and I didn’t even know-”

“Fred,” Rose cut in softly, smiling warmly up at him as she gave his hands a slight squeeze. He continued to stare at her, his eyes still quite apologetic. “I don’t blame you and I’m all better,” she lifted her right hand and wiggled her fingers as if to prove a point. “And if my sister knows that you didn’t mean to, I trust her judgment.” Fred grimaced and glanced playfully over his shoulder to the smirking brunette.

“Yeah, I’d hate to know what she’d do to me if I were lying,” he said, causing Rose to give a small laugh. Fred smiled to her before cupping her chin in his hand with the utmost gentleness, as if she were a delicate, porcelain doll, and leaned forward, gently pressing his lips to hers. She quickly reacted, wrapping her arms around his neck. George let out a sigh and stepped away from the two of them, stopping beside Bellamy.

“So…I guess everything is back to normal again,” he murmured to her with a wry smile. She let out a short chuckle as she shook her head.

“I guess so,” she replied softly, turning from the couple to give them a bit of privacy. They remained silent for a few moments as the couple continued to kiss like nothing had ever been wrong and they were completely alone. Bellamy scoffed after a while and rolled her eyes. “I bet she could care less about fixing her wand right now,” she said grumpily, crossing her arms over her chest. George let out a chuckle and nodded in agreement before turning to Fred and Rose and whistling loudly to get their attention.

“Okay you two,” George said rather loudly, causing them to part slowly and look at him, “We’ve got a want to fix and I need to grow my hair back before the afternoon rush.” Fred merely rolled his eyes as Rose gave a small giggle.

“Fine then,” Fred grumbled playfully, taking Rose’s hand once more and intertwining their fingers. “Let’s go see Ollivander.” Bellamy and Rose exchanged looked and smiled before they walked into the thin, shabby shop.

A thin layer of dust had settled over everything and just beyond the front counter stacks upon stacks and rows upon rows of wand boxes lay. There seemed to be no order in which they were set, and it became obvious to the French woman that this wand maker must know wands fairly well. Bellamy wrinkled her nose a bit at the shabbiness of everything, but had faith that the twins knew who could see if Rose’s wand was damaged or not. The owner of the shop, Mr. Ollivander, was no where in sight. Just as George was about to tap the bell on the counter, a grey-haired man slid into view on a ladder fit for a large library.

“Why, Mr. and Mr. Weasley,” the old man started in a aged voice. Both Lefebvre girls had to pull in their lips at the idea of someone calling the twins “mister”. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” Fred and George exchanged a glance and Fred was the first to look away.

“Well, my brother here thought it would be a good idea to use this young woman’s wand without her permission. Instead of performing the intended Bat-Bogey hex…well,” Fred motioned to the bald spots on George’s head, “We wanted to come here to make sure that nothing was wrong with her,” Fred motioned to Rose, “want.” Ollivander’s crinkled, blue eyes glanced appraisingly over Rose, as if he remembered that he hadn’t seen her before.

“Let’s see the wand then,” he said, holding out his hands for her wand. Rose Quickly produced her wand from her pocket and placed it within his grasp. The man slowly turned over the wand in his hands, his brow wrinkled with thought. The shop remained near silent as the man looked over the wand and every second that passed Rose grew more anxious.

“This is a Foulques Roux creation,” he said in amazement. Rose smiled and nodded, knowing that if there was something wrong with her wand, he would undoubtedly be able to fix it. “Hawthorn,” the wizened wizard said as he continued to roll the wand between his fingertips, having it emit a few pale purple and blue sparks. “Nine and a half inches,” he mused before his eyes flicked up from the wand to Rose’s, “and the core is…”

“Siren scales,” she replied without missing a beat.

“Monsieur Roux never ceases to amaze me,” Ollivander said in a tone full of awe. “Anyway, back to the matter of hand, “ he said before giving the wand a flick. A loud screeching noise filled the shop and an empty glass vase on a shelf in the corner of the room shattered. His eyes widened a bit before he looked down at the wand. “Interesting,” he said as his expression fell into one of deep thought yet again. He glanced up to Rose and held out the wand to her. “Do a simple nonverbal spell,” he said and Rose quickly took it. Just like before, it gave a shower of pale blue sparks, as if glad to be back with her. Ollivander gave a curious hum, but didn’t say a word. She sighed a bit and glanced over to a sheet of paper on the counter and pointed her wand at it. ‘Wingardium Leviosa,’ she thought and the paper slowly levitated into the air.

“Ah,” the man nodded as Rose stopped the spell, causing the paper to float gracefully back to the stack of papers, “it’s exactly what I thought was going to happen, Miss…”

“Lefebvre,” she said, hoping that she wasn’t going to have to get a completely new wand.

“Miss. Lefebvre, it seems to me that due to the unusual nature of the core of your wand, the magic within feels a particular attachment to you,” Mr. Ollivander said, having the entire attention of those in the room. “Much like the affect of a wand not performing to the best of it’s abilities when used by someone who does it has not chosen, so your wand will not perform in any likable way if you are not wielding it because of it‘s loyalty to you. I would not advise letting anyone use it, because it may not be pleasant.” Rose frowned a bit as she slid her wand back into her pocket.

“But, sir, my sister has used my wand plenty of times before and it’s never backfired on her,” she said in a small voice. Ollivander’s eyes then turned to Bellamy and a wide smile crossed his weathered-looking face.

“You have a Foulques Roux wand as well?” He asked her.

“Yes sir,” she said softly and Bellamy took the incentive, stepping toward the counter and handing over her wand to him. Her wand almost seemed to let out a low hiss the moment it hit Ollivander’s hands, but it didn’t seem to affect him at all. He merely let out another curious hum as he turned it over in his fingers.

“Rowan,” he stated as he nodded, “11 inches. But the core…” He tapped the wand against his palm tentatively and the wand gave another protesting hiss.

“A manticore stinger,” Bellamy said softly. The man’s eyebrows rose greatly as he stared at Bellamy before looking down at the wand in his fingertips. Both Fred and George made a mental note never to touch Bellamy’s wand, because they viewed a manticore as something much for volatile and frightening than a siren, though both were very intimidating creatures.

“Fascinating,” Ollivander said as he gave the wand another tap in his palm and it hissed once more, louder this time, then handed the wand back over to Bellamy. “My only guess could be that the wands dislike anyone who is not the rightful owner, or a family member of the owner of the wand trying to cast any spells. Therefore, it causes whatever spells to back fire in a most terrible manner. These wands seem like they are very fickle things. Rightfully so, they’re made with ingredients from very extraordinary and fickle creatures.”

“So there’s nothing wrong with my wand?” Rose asked, her wand still in hand. Ollivander shook his head slowly, smiling warmly at the blonde.

“Not that I can tell. So, you should be fine using it. Anyone else I’m afraid may be subject to treatment much like Mr. Weasley had to endure,” he said, pressing his lips together tightly afterwards as if to stem laughter from George’s appearance. Rose smiled in return.

“Well…thank you sir,” she said politely, “you’ve been extremely helpful.” Ollivander merely nodded and smiled to them all.

“You’re very welcome,” he said softly, in his old, brittle voice. “Feel free to stop by any time.” The four then began to make their way toward the door. George was relieved that he hadn’t damaged Rose’s wand and Rose was glad that everything had been smoothed out between her and Fred.

“Goodbye, Ollivander,” the twins chimed in unison as they pulled open the door for the girls to exit before them.

“Goodbye, Weasley’s and Lefebvre’s,” Ollivander replied before making his way to the back of his shop once more. The door closed behind them with a jingle and they stood on the sidewalk for a moment.

“Let’s go get some food,” Fred said, “I’m starved.” George and Rose shot each other a look and it took Fred all of two seconds to realize something was going on. “Where exactly did you two go to get her wrist fixed?” He asked slowly and carefully, crossing his arms over his chest. He knew that they must have gone somewhere, because George wasn’t confident enough in his healing skills to do it himself. George winced slightly before he spoke, glancing to Rose once more.

“Don’t get angry…but we went to the only person I could think of that would be able to fix things up quickly. And she just so happened to have food there, so we’ve already eaten our lunch,” he said apprehensively. He noticed the look that Fred was giving him and it definitely wasn’t a pleasant one. Call it twin’s intuition, but George just knew that Fred had figured everything out. “M-mum says hello and that she loves you, though,” he added nervously. Fred glanced between George and Rose, noticing they both looked increasingly anxious.

“I’m not angry with you for going, Rosie,” he said with a reassuring smile. She returned the smile before he turned and looked at George, his smile falling suddenly. “You, however, knew better. Did you even bring me any food back?” George bit his bottom lip and shook his head slowly. “Then…you’ll just have to go get Bellamy and me some food in exchange for not bringing us any back,” Fred said with a resolute nod. George looked a bit apprehensive at first before glancing to Rose then Bellamy. The latter was glancing between Rose and Fred, her bottom lip stuck between her teeth. When no one said anything, she broke the silence by saying,

“I’ll go with him.” She shrugged a bit when all eyes went to her. “You two probably still need to do some more talking and would probably like to be alone for the time being.” Rose looked over at Fred and gave him a small smile before turning back to Bellamy. “What are you in the mood for eating, Fred?” She asked. Fred gave a small chuckle as one thing came to his mind.

“Fish and chips?” He suggested, laughing when he saw that Bellamy’s expression didn’t change a bit, as if she expected him to say that. She merely nodded, letting out a sigh.

“Alright, fish and chips it is,” she said softly, “George and I will be back soon enough. And whatever you do, don’t try getting rid of the Hate Potion without me there.” Rose rolled her eyes at her sister’s protectiveness and tendency to think through every possible thing that could go wrong.

“Okay, we won’t,” she said in compliance even though she knew she definitely would never touch that sort of potion ever again in her life. Bellamy gave Rose and Fred a brief smile before turning, beginning to make her way to the Fish and Chip shop and George followed just behind her.