The Elder Wand
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe and all the characters in it belong to J.K. Rowling. This story is a work of imagination and is directed solely at readers of this website. No infringement of any rights is intended and no criticism of J.K. Rowling or her work should be considered to be stated or implied.
Author's note: an alternative reality story, taking all of the books into account.
Part 3. Ron
"I'm putting the Elder Wand back where it came from," Harry told Dumbledore. "It can stay there. If I die a natural death like Ignotus, its power will be broken, won't it? The previous master will never have been defeated. That'll be the end of it."
"Are you sure?" Ron said, as Dumbledore nodded. He looked longingly at the wand, imagining the power that it would give him and what he could do with it.
"I think Harry's right," said Hermione quietly.
Ron tried to maintain an indifferent look on his face as he heard Hermione's words, but inwardly he was seething.
There it was again; Hermione's disapproval. Why did she always have to side with Harry? Didn't she realise that Harry was wrong this time? It was utter madness not to use the Elder Wand. Just think what they could do with it. No Dark Wizard would stand a chance against them. They could make the world safe; safe for all of his family. Nobody else needed to die like Fred or be maimed like George and Bill.
Not for the first time, where Hermione was concerned, Ron felt a sense of despair enveloping him. Couldn't she see that he was the one who had always liked her? (Ron wouldn't allow himself to even think the word 'love' let alone say it). Harry didn't really care about her and never had done. Harry was in love with Ginny and hadn't he told Ron just a few months ago that he thought of Hermione like a sister. He had assured Ron that Hermione was his friend; nothing more. What was wrong with her? Why couldn't she see what was so obvious to everyone else? After all, she had finally kissed him, something that he had only been able to dream about during the past few years. That must mean something, surely.
Yet, when he needed her support, she wasn't there for him. It was just like the Triwizard Tournament all over again. When he had fallen out with Harry, Hermione had chosen to devote herself to helping Harry to prepare for the first task and had hardly seemed to care about him at all. Then, in that horrible tent during the previous year, when he had become so frustrated with Harry that he had to get away, Hermione had refused to come with him, preferring to take her chance out in the wilderness. Whenever it came to a really important decision, Hermione always seemed to choose Harry. There had been many other occasions as well - less significant perhaps, but still hurtful. Those times when Harry and Hermione were closeted together, making plans, and he was left on the side line - a spare part; a gooseberry; like a little kid with his nosed pressed up against the window pane, trying to get a view of what the adults inside are doing. He could remember the time that Hermione was made a prefect at Hogwarts and she was so excited about sharing her duties with Harry; because she was so certain that Dumbledore couldn't have failed to make Harry a prefect as well. The jubilant smile soon faded when she learned that it was Ron and not Harry who would be joining her. She had tried to hide her disappointment and surprise, but it was clear - there for all to see. It seemed to Ron that he had spent most of the last seven years living in Harry's shadow. But Hermione was the one thing that Ron thought that he had been able to steal from Harry. Now, it seemed that even that small achievement was to be snatched away from him.
Things had begun to look so promising. Hermione had been impressed at how he had come up with the idea of using the Basilisk's fang to destroy the Horcrux in the Hufflepuff cup. Ron had to admit that as ideas went, it was certainly one of his better ones. It also helped that Hermione had believed that he could imitate Parseltongue. He was surprised that she had accepted this so readily and he was certain that she would realise her error in time. Parseltongue was a gift and the sounds were completely alien to a normal wizard. Ron could no more imitate them than suddenly become an Animagus. The truth was that Hermione had been intent on making sure that they weren't being followed and Ron had reached the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets ahead of her. He found that the enchantment on the door had been removed, probably by Voldemort himself to allow access by his minions. The two halves of the door were already cracked open when he approached and slid smoothly aside when he pushed. Coming up behind him, Hermione, who had been worrying about how they could force an entry during the whole of their descent, was incredulous and, when she challenged him, he found himself making up the lie on the spur of the moment. Now, he wished that he hadn't, as it seemed too ridiculous a proposition, even to him, and he was certain that Harry must have realised it. Ron knew that his pathetic attempt at imitation couldn't possibly have fooled Harry for one second. He had noted the questioning frown that had appeared on Harry's forehead as Ron had made random hissing sounds at Hermione's request and he had been relieved that Harry had obviously decided that it was not the time or place to challenge him about it.
Ron heard Harry let out a gentle sigh in response to Hermione's agreement to his proposal about the Elder Wand. He glanced up at him and saw that Harry was looking gratefully at Hermione. She was staring at the floor, deep in thought. Nobody said anything for a long time and Ron glared at Dumbledore's portrait imploringly; willing him to change his mind about the Elder Wand. But Dumbledore only smiled back at him and shook his head knowingly.
"Right, well now that's decided, I'm going to check up on things," Harry said eventually. "Are you two coming?"
"You go ahead," Ron replied, controlling his rising temper with difficulty. "I just want to have a word with Hermione."
Hermione, who had taken half a step forward, stopped, as she looked towards Ron, a puzzled expression on her face.
"You go on, we'll catch up with you later," she mumbled.
"OK, see you in a little while then," Harry responded moodily and grabbing the Elder Wand, together with his own Holly wand, he quickly walked out of the headmaster's study and noisily descended the spiral staircase.
"Thanks for your help," Ron furiously challenged Hermione, as soon as he was certain that Harry was out of ear shot.
A few murmurs of disapproval emanated from the portraits surrounding them and, glancing at the walls, Ron turned and stormed from the room to get away from the reproachful gaze of the old headmasters. He paused on the stairs waiting for Hermione to catch up. Hermione followed him through the doorway looking confused.
"Ron, what is it? What's the matter?"
"Oh, don't pretend that you don't know," he rounded angrily on her. "Why do you always have to side with Harry? Is it too much to ask that just for once - just one time - you might take my side against him?"
"I don't always side with Harry," Hermione pleaded. "In case you haven't noticed, he doesn't take too much notice of what I say lately. Anyway Ron, Harry is right about the Elder Wand."
"Right! I don't think so. In fact, he couldn't be more wrong. Just think what we could do with it. No Dark Wizard would have a chance against us."
"Ron, this is crazy. You know the history of the wand. It has always brought its owner bad luck."
"Oh, you've changed your tune, haven't you? I thought that you didn't believe in superstitions…in curses."
"I don't, but it's just the way things are. Nobody can be on their guard all of the time. Look at Dumbledore; one of the greatest wizards who ever lived and even he couldn't hold on to the Elder Wand. And who took it off of him? Draco Malfoy - hardly the most powerful adversary!"
"That's just nonsense and you know it." Ron was growing angrier. "Dumbledore was old and he had been weakened by that potion. Harry isn't like that and neither am I."
"Ron, now you're scaring me. You don't seriously want the wand for yourself?" Hermione said incredulously.
"Why not? Don't you think that I'm good enough? I suppose that you don't think that I'm as talented as the great Harry Potter?"
Hermione just shook her head, knowing that anything that she said might only make matters worse.
Ron stared at her coldly, his breathing deep and rapid.
After a few moments, he turned away.
"I'm going back downstairs," he said sulkily, without looking back and quickly trotted down the spiral staircase before disappearing out into the corridor.
"Oh Ron," Hermione sighed, looking after him but she didn't follow immediately. Instead, she stood thoughtfully reviewing all that had just happened, before turning and going back into the headmaster's study. She had decided that she needed to have another word with Dumbledore's portrait before she left.
Meanwhile, Ron headed back along the same deserted and damaged corridors that Harry had passed along only a short time before and then descended the main stairs leading towards the Great Hall. He was angry and disconsolate and took little notice of his surroundings on the way. As he carelessly approached the doorway, he bumped into a startled Luna Lovegood coming in the opposite direction. Her long blond hair looked unkempt and one of her radish earrings was missing but her slightly protruding blue eyes were still bright and she smiled as she recognised Ron.
"Where are you going?" Ron blurted out, his anger still evident in his tone.
"Ron, what's the matter? Are you OK?" Luna replied, a concerned expression spreading across her face.
Ron massaged his temples with the thumb and middle finger of his left hand in an effort to relax and ease a pounding headache that was starting to develop.
"Oh, sorry, I've just been having a bit of a bad time. I didn't mean to snap at you," he relented. "It might help if some of my friends didn't treat me like a complete idiot all of the time."
"I'm sure that they don't Ron. Look, do you want to talk about it?" Luna gestured back inside.
Ron smiled. "No, I don't think that would be very wise at the moment; perhaps another time. Anyway, I'll ask again. Where are you going?"
"Well, people are starting to disperse now. Everyone is feeling exhausted. I'm not really of much use here, so, I thought that I might go and try to find my father. I haven't heard from him for a long time and he didn't turn up today. I'm a bit worried about him."
"I hope that he's OK." Ron was genuinely concerned, knowing the anguish that Xenophilius Lovegood had been in the last time that they had met. "I'll probably be heading back to the Burrow later on, so in a couple of days I might come over to see how you get on."
Luna smiled, and squeezed Ron's arm shyly. "That would be nice," she said. There was an awkward silence and Ron felt that he should say something more, but his throat suddenly seemed dry and his mind had gone blank.
"See you soon then," Luna finally offered and walked towards the main door of the castle, turning to wave just before she disappeared from sight.
Ron watched her leave, feeling strangely sorry to see her go, and then turned and entered the Great Hall. There were far fewer people in there now. Isolated groups were still scattered around, talking animatedly or sitting stunned and silent and as Ron looked around, several people got up wearily and started towards the exit. He saw that his mother was still sitting at the end of one of the long tables about half way down the room, together with Ginny, George and Percy. Ron moved over to join them.
"Hello, how are you all?" Ron asked.
"Oh, there you are Ron," Molly replied quietly. It was clearly evident from the puffiness under her eyes that she had been crying recently. "What have you been up to?"
"Nothing much," Ron replied with a shrug. "I'm just feeling really tired," he said slumping down into the chair next to Percy. "Where's Dad?"
"He's already gone back to the Ministry," Molly responded. "They have to make sure that what we've started here is carried through and that all of Voldemort's supporters are ousted. This isn't over yet, you know. Not by a long way."
They all sat in silence for a little while engrossed in their own thoughts. Ginny, who could hardly keep her eyes open, reached out to rub her mother's hand comfortingly.
"So, what are you all going to do now?" Ron asked eventually.
Molly looked down at the polished wooden surface of the table, unable to answer.
"We're going to take Fred's body back to the Burrow," Percy replied. "We need to make arrangements for the funeral."
The silence grew even heavier and none of the Weasleys noticed Hermione coming in through the entrance and gingerly approaching their table.
"Hello," she said tentatively. "Mrs. Weasley, I'm so sorry about Fred."
"Thank you dear," Molly answered wearily. "Sit down. You look worn out."
Hermione took the chair opposite Ron, who was pointedly refusing to look at her.
"Where's Harry?" Ginny asked her, suddenly perking up.
"I don't know. He said that he was coming down here."
"You know Harry," Molly said, managing a strained smile, "he'll have been side tracked by something or someone."
"We're going to take Fred back to the Burrow now," Ron muttered. "Are you coming?"
He finally looked up at Hermione as he asked the question and his expression was challenging - daring her to refuse.
"Oh, I hadn't really thought." Hermione was flustered. "Perhaps, I'll join you later. I had better see if Harry needs any help first," she finished weakly.
Ginny looked up at her sharply, a frown forming, but didn't say anything.
"There's a surprise. I didn't see that coming," Ron hissed sarcastically.
"Don't be rude Ron," Molly chastised him. "What on earth is the matter with you?"
"Oh, nothing Mum. I've been stupid, but that's all over now," Ron retorted, staring directly at Hermione. "If anyone wants me, I'll be just outside." With a final angry glare at Hermione, he pushed back his chair noisily and stalked out of the Great Hall.