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Ron loved the United States.
Magical New York felt like an odd combination of Knockturn Alley’s worst and Diagon Alley’s best, all in the same neighborhood. The young wizard never lived in a city, let alone, spent enough time in London to understand true city life. But even he had to admit that the hectic, unstable, bustling life that erupted through the streets of magical New York was awe inducing.
So many lights, so loud, so much to see and do. It felt like he was being consumed by a whole new world. And as unsettling as it was at first, Ron had come to crave it. He thought the rushing would be tiring, but it felt like a never ending adventure. The cajoling of shop owners: bakeries, antique shops, boutiques and sports halls was tireless in their enthusiasm.
The snowflakes that fell from the sky, as the Christmas spirit exacted itself over the city did nothing but brighten the congested district of witches and wizards.
This is probably the best Yule Break he had ever had!
Ron couldn’t wipe the grin plastered across his face, all of the life and happiness around him was enthralling. But maybe it was also the fact that Ron was being dragged down the frosty roads of magical New York, hand in hand, by his favorite friend.
“Ron hurry up! If my father finds out we left the suite he will flog us!”
He only chuckled as he returned his focus to their tiny little escapade. After winning his very first international chess tournament—along with the five hundred galleon grand prize—Ron figured that it was about time he got himself a new wand. His own wand.
To say he was miffed when his parents didn’t get him his own wand would be quite the understatement. He had been looking forward to getting his own wand since he learned of them. To have something, tied and bonded to oneself, an extension of one’s being… Ron had almost expected to have something special like that for himself.
But Percy had been made prefect and money was tight. And so, he had been given Charlie’s old wand.
Hurt he was, but not really surprised. Ron couldn’t stop himself from crying that night, a single thought running through his mind. Did he do something wrong? They’ve managed to purchase wands for everyone else despite our money problems… were they angry with him and felt he needed to be punished?
Ron couldn’t help the feeling of unease and distrust that littered his soul every time he held Charlie’s old wand. His grip was always lacking, but only because there was no comfort in holding that wand. And the wand clearly held reservations for which bearer it desired.
Ron had held on to hope the first few weeks he had his hand-me-down wand, hoping that maybe everything was all right and things could get better. Maybe mum and dad really were just hitting another financial hurdle again, that’s no problem. But the moment he saw Percy, proudly holding his new owl… everything fell into place for a split second. Harsh understanding kicking Ron in the gut.
They got Percy an owl versus getting him a wand. It took all of Ron’s might and willpower—which wasn’t much for an eleven year old—to bite down on his tongue and not complain. The constant reminder though of Ron not being worthy enough of his parents’ attention and doting was too much at times. The young wizard would be lying if he said he didn’t cry himself to sleep sometimes, as the same storm of thoughts consumed him on those nights.
What could he do to get mum and dad to love him more? What was he doing wrong? Why couldn’t he get a wand? Does he need to be a prefect for mum and dad to like him more? He could do better! He could be better! He could be worthy of their attention and love! Right?
Eventually, he got used to biting his tongue. Staying quiet. Not complaining. It was probably his best skill in life—other than disappointing his family.
Looking back, his past two years of school with his brother’s wand… Ron would say that much of his magical problems could have been ameliorated with a wand that was actually suited for himself.
Classes such as transfiguration and charms would have been easier. Theo and Tracey were clear on that front. He was lucky he had Daphne as his regular potions partner because if that hadn’t been the case, then that would have been another harder than normal class. Ron initially figured potions wouldn’t need the use of wands, but even some of the greatest of potions needed some magic to churn it at times. Defense Against the Dark Arts was a useless class if Ron was honest. With the way Charlie’s wand nearly failed him at every turn—he couldn’t even properly do an episkey—and the fact the past two professors were horrible.
He more or less forgot about the disloyal wand over other matters in his second year. He played in his first chess tournaments outside of Hogwarts. He rose as one of Hogwarts’ best players, to one of the best in all of magical Britain. Then there was that whole fiasco about the heir petrifying students. Ron was honestly terrified, and it didn’t help that the majority of his house liked to brag about the beast of the chamber coming to clean the school of the unworthy—damn blood purist mania ran thick and true in most of his house.
Charlie’s old wand only came back into prominence after he convinced Harry Potter to let him and Theo come down with him to the Chamber of Secrets. Ron had never been more terrified. Terrified for Ginny who was all alone, taken and mentally tortured by the heir. Terrified for Theo and even Harry… What if the beast kills them? And terrified for himself. He didn’t want to die, he’s not strong like his brothers, he wasn’t brave like his parents. He was a snake. How could a snake possibly be able to save his sister?
But it seemed he almost didn’t make it that far when Harry decided to invite the barmy loon called Gilderoy Lockhart. The revelation that he was a fraud shouldn’t have shocked Ron as much as it did, but it did. And having to duel a full grown wizard was probably the hardest feat he had ever done. Lockhart had taken Theo’s wand and shot a stunner, causing the chamber’s walls to collapse in. Leaving Harry and a wandless Theo on one side and Ron alone to face the full grown wizard on the other.
Ron nearly screamed in true terror and fright every time Lockhart shot a curse or a memory charm his way. Yet, through sheer luck and remembering his numerous dueling lessons with Theo, the consistent use of weak shield charms and using other spells to absorb or parry the elder wizard’s assault was just enough for Ron to land a blow.
Ron had regretted uttering the word ‘Legilimens!’ Being bombarded with horrible sights and visions of Lockhart. Of his crimes. Of his cruelty. Of his vanity. It was unlike anything Ron had ever witnessed. And by the looks of it, Lockhart felt the same. Rending the grown wizard speechless and nearly traumatized at the sudden intrusion, Ron took the advantage quickly. Painfully screaming out ‘Obliviate!’
It seemed the joint use of two lethal spells, with the obviously negative intention would come with a cost, seeing as Ron felt the hand-me-down wand heat up in his hands fiercely. The boy watched in trepidation as the wand suddenly cracked open, the smallest essence of misty magic escaping from the wand. After witnessing the crude display, Ron felt defeated, not even the realization of successfully defeating a numpty grown wizard was enough to soothe him.
Despite that, Ron was still left with an incapable wand. However, with Ginny saved, the heir defeated, Lockhart out of the way, and finally Ron’s final tournament at Diagon Alley, the insipid wand was once again at the back of Ron’s mind. Ron’s victory and becoming a national chess champion played a huge part in Ron almost forgetting about the injured wand. Until now that is.
Ron’s trip to Egypt with the rest of his family, to visit Bill was alright. Ron could do without the sand and the heat at times, and maybe the occasional joke and references of snakes every time Ron conversed with Ginny or the twins. Even Charlie and Bill cracked a snake joke once or twice, leaving Ron annoyed to no end. So much so, that he eventually snapped. He guessed he did go a bit overboard when he locked the twins in that vault for nearly seven hours. The punishment in Ron’s eyes however, was too much.
He wasn’t allowed to come to Diagon Alley with his family that year for school supplies. Forced to stay behind with his father, who stayed behind for work. Ron was livid. The whole point of the trip to Diagon Alley for his third year was for him to finally be able to ask his parents to get a new wand. But seeing as he was restricted from even attempting that, it left him down right embittered.
He of course had the money to purchase a new wand—winning two hundred galleons from his national chess tournament—but that required going to Gringotts to pull such assets out. Why he didn’t keep some of his money on hand was stupid. Nonetheless, Ron started his third year with a brittle and cracked wand.
Daphne, Theo and Tracey tried their best to mitigate any disasters by being his partner in classes such as Charms, Transfiguration and Potions. But even they couldn’t fix everything. His practical assessments were nothing but abysmal, but his theoretical and writing assessments were key in Ron maintaining his good marks. So he focused heavily on that. He couldn’t bloody well practice duelling with Theo anymore, so he resorted to researching spells instead. This only frustrated him further because now he had no suitable way of practicing the things he learned. With the way things were going, Ron figured he’d be kicked out of school for possibly having a defective magical core.
But when Daphne’s father, Mr. Greengrass, his Chess mentor and Hogwarts Chess Club sponsor spoke of a potential international tournament, Ron leapt at the chance. He needed the distraction. He also figured that there might be some monetary gain, which meant an opportunity to have money in his hands to buy himself a wand. A plan that came to fruition in his Yule Break.
Here he was, on Yule break in the United States, an International Chess Champion, holding hands with the prettiest girl in his school and ready to get himself a wand. Ron didn’t need someone to say it for him to know that right now, he was at an all time high.
“Ronald hurry up!”
“Daphne calm down. Blimey, one would think we’re trying to escape dementors or something.”
“That’s not funny Ron!”
Ron giggled at Daphne’s words, despite his complete agreement at how messed up the situation back at school was. A mass murderer on the loose, as well as having an entire school besieged by Dementors was not particularly great.
“Well where is this wand shop? Why can’t the Americans just have their own Ollivander’s?”
Daphne rolled her eyes at Ron’s question, refusing to entertain Ron’s train of thought. Instead, focusing on the task at hand.
“We have about an hour before my parents return from Wizarding Broadway. We have to get in and get out. It’s a wonder Tabby is able to distract Astoria”
Ron digested Daphne’s rambling, returning his train of thought to the present. It was a simple plan. Sneak out to go to the American wand shop down near the muggle Brooklyn Bridge since Mr. and Mrs. Greengrass would be out, and have the Greengrass head house elf, Tabby, occupy Astoria. It was a good plan.
Though Ron felt like they have been walking for forever, he didn’t feel like complaining. Not when he was too busy admiring the magical and muggle scene around him, as well as being alone with Daphne. Ron truly felt, once again, it was the best Yule Break ever.
“There it is!” The young blonde witch announced, nearly ripping Ron’s arm off as she dragged him down the street quickly. Ron yelped in surprise at Daphne’s strength. He sometimes despised that the girl who was a full head shorter than him, could manhandle him with a creepy sort of ease.
Ron looked ahead, sandwiched between possibly hundreds of similar looking buildings in the hidden pocket of wizarding New York, Jonker’s Wand Works Emporium was an ornate building. The row of shops looked similar to those muggle shophouses Padma Patil and Sue Li talked about once. White walls, decorated with Christmas colors and furnishings, enchanted red and white flower vines scaling the walls. A large display window was fogged up, obscuring the interior. The door, next to the large window, was left wide open, allowing echoes of Christmas jollies and bells to be released from within.
Entering in only seconds after Daphne, Ron was bombarded by an aroma of nutmeg and cinnamon. The shop itself was glowing with holiday cheer. Muggle string lights hung from the ceilings, fairy lights traversed the side of the shop counter. Shimmering Christmas trees of varying colors in one corner, while on the opposite end of the room sat a fireplace, where three small mechanical dragons shot green and red flames. Basking the shop interior with its warmth.
If Ron and Daphne had anything to say about this place, they would call it simply magnificent.
From behind the counter, an almost endless series of large rows filled with wand boxes. Ron had only ever seen such an amount of wands at Ollivanders. And it never ceased to amaze him how so much magic could be contained in one space.
The two young teens were busy absorbing the serenity of the shop with a tight and gruff voice rumbled, “PRESS ME!”
Daphne and Ron jumped at the sound. Looking around quickly, eyes shooting across the empty room.
“PRESS ME!”
Daphne jumped, gripping harder on Ron's hand as the two continued searching for the voice until finally landing on the counter.
“PRESS ME!” Screamed a Nutcracker soldier toy, sitting at the counter eyeing the two teens with a murderous glare. One arm held firm against his side and the other holding a sword. Both teens were beyond confused at the command, now that they saw the toy for what it was.
“PRESS ME!”
“Why would we do that?” Ron asked, clearly dumbfounded at the toy before him. The soldier seemed to become enraged at the notion, beginning to scream out a chant,
“PRESS ME! PRESS ME! PRESS ME!”
Ron looked at Daphne, both teens too confused and unsure on what to do. They didn’t have to linger for long because soon enough, a pale light shot forward, vanishing the screaming soldier from sight. The two looked up to see a lanky, middle-aged man.
“Apologies for that. He was meant to alert me when I had customers enter the shop. He still hasn’t quite grasped how to say ‘Help Thee.’ I should probably stick to wand making.”
The young duo smiled awkwardly, not knowing how to proceed. Luckily, the man spared them.
“Anyways… I’m Jeremy Jonker, and welcome to Jonker’s Wand Works Emporium! The greatest wand shop in America. How may I be of assistance?”
Daphne held a kind, greeting smile whilst Ron nodded. Jeremy Jonker wasn't an old man persay, but he was nowhere near young. Ron figured he was probably in his late thirties, but that was just a guess. Clearly of European ancestry, the wandmaker had wavy brown hair and wide eyes. Ron thought he looked like that character, Dr. Rawlins, from the horrifying and sad muggle film “Empire of the Sun.” Ron still refused to watch anything else Tracey wished to show him and their friends, for that film alone was terrifying by itself.
Ron’s thoughts were broken by Daphne, lightly shoving him, gesturing towards the smiling man. Ron coughed a bit, regaining some composure before beginning.
“Ugh.. hello Mr. Jonker. I was wondering if I could purchase a wand today… for myself that is.”
Ron almost facepalmed. That was embarrassing.
“And why young one, would you need a new wand?” Mr. Jonker was still smiling kindly as he asked.
“Because I need one.” Ron said plainly, confused at his question.
Mr. Jonker giggled, whilst Daphne literally facepalmed. Ron sighed, he clearly missed something.
“He’s asking about what happened to your other wand Ron.” Daphne huffed, leaving Ron to mentally facepalm again. The young wizard quickly deduced that he was not good with such word play.
Without uttering a word, Ron pulled out the damaged wand, quickly passing over to Mr. Jonker. The older wizard’s eyes bulged greatly as he inspected the wand.
“Oh Dorcus!”
Ron watched as Mr. Jonker twirled the wand, eyeing the clear crack in the wand, and even blew a bit into the crack, prompting misty white smoke to escape from within the wand.
“This is quite the dilemma, young one. Ron was it?”
Ron nodded.
“Well Ron, by the looks of it, this wand once held a functioning unicorn hair core. Do you have any prior knowledge of what makes unicorn hair cores different from other cores?”
“No sir.”
Mr. Jonker gave Ron a comforting smile, “Unicorn hair provides the most consistent magic. And they are the more faithful of cores. Paired with the Ash wood, it means that this wand would have been twice as loyal to its original owner… am I right in presuming that this wand was second-hand?”
Ron blushed furiously. Embarrassed beyond measure at how a complete stranger was able to decipher pieces of his entire life so quickly. He nodded silently. Mr. Jonker however, didn’t let up on his comforting and sympathetic look.
“Your wand here also shows that the unicorn hair has been burned black. To a complete crisp. And by the degree of which some of the ash marks I detect within the wand itself, I believe that this wand has been damaged for a bit longer than four years at best.”
Ron looked down at his feet, barely swallowing down his frustration. He had been given a second-hand wand—one that was already destined to become disloyal and embittered in Ron’s grasp—but a second-hand wand that was already burnt out.
No words could describe the feeling of discomfort, despair, offense and spitefulness he felt. He just felt so… unwanted. Ron wouldn’t have been surprised if the definition of the word ‘Undesirable’ showed a photograph of Ron, rather than an actual worded explanation.
“Nonetheless, I am so very glad and honored that you came to me to purchase a new wand. And I have a feeling, you’re gonna do great things with this new wand of yours.”
Ron looked up, seeing a happy and honest twinkle in Mr. Jonker’s eyes. Ron forced a smile, prompting Mr. Jonker to smile brightly. Retrieving his brother’s wand back from the wandmaker, Mr. Jonker turned around, swiftly gathering some wands for Ron to try out.
“Are you alright?”
Daphne looked up at Ron, clearly worried at Ron’s intake of the news presented. Ron gave her the smallest of smiles and nodded. It seemed to be enough for Daphne, as she then stepped back, gesturing to him to move up closer to the counter.
Doing so, Ron only stood there for a minute longer before Mr. Jonker returned with seven wand boxes of varying colors and sizes.
“Now, let’s begin. Just outstretch your hand or pick up the wand. Give them a flick if you want. Just do what you feel is best.”
The wandmaker opened the first box, a stunning wand, inlaid with mother-of-pearl laid before him. Despite feeling a superficial attraction to the wand, Ron recoiled his hand at the cold aura exuding from the wand. He saw Mr. Jonker smile before opening the other boxes.
Hovering his hand over the row of wands, Ron felt a series of different urges and emotions overtake him. A few of the wands felt cold, another burned like dragon fire, while some held no effect at all. It was almost disappointing for Ron when not a single one of the wands before him appealed to him. But Mr. Jonker was quick to comfort.
“Don’t fret Ron, I’ve got hundreds of more wands for you to try.” Gathering the current row, Ron waited patiently as Mr. Jonker turned to collect another seven wands for him to try.
The next set, Ron finally made some progress. The sixth and seventh wand in the set gave Ron a strange sensation. He couldn’t explain it. Neither felt cold and cruel nor hot and bitter.
The sixth wand, a beautiful pale brown wand, almost the same length as Charlie’s old wand, felt mostly comforting in Ron’s grip. He flicked it around and the display was lacking to be honest. But it still felt so warm and comforting to touch.
The seventh wand, larger in length and a weird rusty color, Ron could feel his magic sing. Despite the wand feeling cold to the touch, the magic within himself emanated neatly as he commanded its box to float. Ron set the wand down before locking his eyes down at the last two wands of the set, conflicted on his emotions.
“I see you’ve come at a crossroads, eh?”
Ron looked up to see the beaming smile of Mr. Jonker. Ron couldn’t believe how one could be so happy and smile so much. The you wizard wondered if it was just the holiday joys imbuing itself into the wandmaker.
Nodding swiftly, Ron began,
“I can’t explain it. But the sixth wand feels the most comfortable to me. I physically feel at ease holding it. But the seventh one… I think it calls out to my magic better than the other.”
Mr. Jonker nodded in contemplation at Ron’s words.
“I believe you have discovered which wand wood is best suited for your current person. Whilst the seventh wand demonstrates what kind of core better promotes your magic. Give me a moment.”
And so, Ron waited once more, as Mr. Jonker came and went, collecting even more wands.
He turned to look back at Daphne, apologetic for his difficulty in obtaining a wand.
“Sorry I’m taking so long.”
Daphne only smiled softly.
“Don’t worry Ron. Don’t worry about me. This is very important for any witch or wizard.”
Ron smiled genuinely, gratefully in return.
“Okay. This should do, hopefully!” Mr. Jonker exclaimed happily, opening a new set of seven wands. This time, they all seemed to call out to Ron. One was pretty large, whilst the rest remained average in length. Shades of the wood were similar, light-brown, sandy, another even copper colored. Ron’s eyes widened in awe. Just feeling the warmth radiate off of these wands made Ron feel encased in a feeling of content.
Outstretching his hand, Ron slowly hovered his hand down the line. Waves of serenity, calmness and warmth pressed against Ron’s hand. He stopped however at the sixth wand in the lineup.
Ron didn’t need to move over to feel the seventh wand. The sixth one, the abnormally longer wand, was sandy in color. Its handle was also one of the many that was inlaid with mother-of-pearl, presenting a sleek pattern of stars and crosses. Taking a hold of the wand, Ron could only sigh in pure content and happiness. A sense of completeness consuming him. This was it. This was his wand.
“How fascinating!”
Ron looked up at the once again, beaming smile of Mr. Jonker. The elder’s eyes twinkled like a pair of suns.
“How so?”
“13 ⅓ inches in length. A beautiful balsam fir wood, with a white river monster spine core. Solid in flexibility.”
Ron raised an eyebrow. “White monster what?”
“White river monster spine core.” Mr. Jonker said simply. As if that answered the growing amount of questions he had.
“Uh….”
“You have a survivor's wand Ron. Fir wood is some of the most resilient woods in the world. Wands of this wood demand a firm and strong wielder. Typically suited for those considered intimidating, fir wood accompanies a wizard or witch that can adapt and endure. A wand designed for a fighter in both mind and body.”
What were the odds… a survivor's wand. What else could he possibly endure that he hasn't already? Severe self-loathing, duelling upper years and even a Professor, constant harassment and bullying, pure-blood politics at the ripe old age of eleven.
“What about his wand core Mr. Jonker?” Daphne wondered aloud, stepping forward to inspect the beautiful wand. She was clearly as intrigued as Ron about this new treasure.
“This wand is one of a rare bunch left here in the states. The White River Monster is a magical aquatic beast, whose spines make a stern and fierce conduit for magic. Its unnatural length is due to the wand holding an entire spine as the core. Like the monster itself, it is rather misunderstood”
Ron remained entranced at the old wandmaker’s words. He couldn’t help but blush, the red wave crashing across his cheeks. He just couldn’t get over the peculiarities of the wand that had clearly chosen him.
And by the looks of it, Daphne was as well.
“An old wandmaker here in the states by the name of Thiago Quintana was the only person to ever produce wands with this core. His secrets to producing wands of this core unfortunately died with him. And from then on, available wands of this core became rarer by the decades. But it seems this one, surprisingly unused, made its way into my family’s possession. And is still in its prime. Ready and able.”
Mr. Jonker cleared the other wands away, granting Ron another smile as the trio inspected the wand within the young wizard’s hands.
“Wands with a White River Monster Spine core produce spells of force and elegance. Paired with fir wood, I do truly believe that you, young one, have quite the future ahead of you.”
Stunned. Enchanted. Frozen. Overjoyed. He couldn’t explain it. Ron just couldn’t articulate how he felt at that moment. His lips felt chapped, and yet it didn’t bother him.
He could honestly cry at that moment. But he held it back, if only for a moment to express his gratitude.
“Thank you so much Mr. Jonker. May I purchase this wand please!”
Mr. Jonker gave Ron his signature smile and nodded.
“Five dragots please.”
Ron froze, as did Daphne. How they possibly seemed to have forgotten that magical currency in America differed from that of magical Europe, made Ron want to bash his own head in.
“Um… we only have galleons, Mr. Jonker.” Ron said, pulling out seven of the familiar gold coins, presenting it to the wandmaker.
Mr. Jonker laughed. “Well that’s alright. I guess four galleons should be good.”
Ron blanched whilst Daphne’s eyebrows rose in confused glee.
“Only four?” Daphne asked.
“Yup. Galleons are worth more than American Dragots. But as I am no banker, I do not know the exchange rate. So four galleons should be alright for me.”
Clearly not wasting any time or the chance to be cheated out of such a deal, Daphne gestured for Ron to pay up. His hands were clammy as he went through the motions of paying for the wand, gripping his newest possession, letting it twirl in his fingers. He couldn’t believe it, he finally had his own wand.
“Like your new wand?” Daphne asked, the duo now racing back down the streets of New York, hoping to beat Daphne’s parents back to the hotel.
Ron could only nod his head, his demeanor completely consumed by awe. Awe at finally having something for himself, something he paid for by himself. A burden he removed off his own shoulders. An extension of his magic, of his soul, of his life, of his entire being.
He had never felt so whole in his life until now.
But despite the high the young wizard found himself on, Ron couldn’t stop the giddy smile that broke out on his lips as Daphne rejoined their hands and began dragging him across New York once again.
For Ron, he couldn’t help but think once again, best Yule break ever!