She had gone back the next day to find her wand, digging around in the grass till her hands became covered in the brown soil, but she had finally found it. Crumpling onto the ground when she pick it up, a fresh set of tears had started and she had sat there for a few moments, clutching hopelessly at the two halves of the sycamore wood. It was barely held together by a few strands of its core, and even she knew it was impossible to mend.
Already when she woke up she felt so disgusted with herself that she had changed her entire appearance, hoping that somehow, a new look would help her forget, but she remembered, and she could not bring herself to say his name since he left her standing there.
She remembered every filthy second that his lips were on hers, and every repulsive stroke his thumb had made against her cheek. She remembered all of it, and no matter how many times she changed her lips she could not get rid of the horrible sensation that his kiss had brought. Most of all, she remembered his promise of hurting Tristan, and the wand she was so desperately holding onto was yet another reminder of his words.
Not knowing how to tell her parents what had happened just yet - for it was something she hadn't yet had time to fully process - she had written them and told them that someone had stepped on her wand. Their response came immediately; her father would take her to Brookshire's to get a new one that very weekend.
He had arrived, on time, and they left, Brooke much less talkative than she normally would be. Thinking she was upset at the loss of her wand, Caleb had left the silence alone, and he waited outside the shop for her.
Walking in, the wand in a bag, she approached the counter and waited for the attendant to come. When he did, she silently showed him the broken wand, and he had let out a soft whistle. "What you do there, girl?" he asked, gently fingering it.
"I dropped it and someone accidentally stepped onto it," she said firmly, trying to convince herself more so than the attendant, because the truth was too hard to face.
He had shaken his head and made a comment about respecting wands and she had nodded, playing along. Then came the hard task of trying out wands, and there was soon a fairly large pile on the counter. "Try this," the attendant said, still as cheerful as he had been with the first one. "It's black walnut, unicorn hair, 10 inches."
Taking it, she muttered "Lumos," as she had with all the others. But this time, there was barely a spark, and she stared at the attendant. With all the others, there had been some form of light, albeit not very bright.
"Black walnut," the attendant had repeated, gently removing the wand from her hand and replacing it in the box. "Very interesting properties indeed. The wand will refuse to perform if the witch or wizard is unable or unwilling to be honest with themselves or others." He gazed at her for a few seconds before turning back to the shelves and searching for another box.
His words had struck Brooke directly in her heart and she almost started crying again, holding the tears back, concentrating on good thoughts. But all the good thoughts she had revolved around Tristan and Joe, and it made it even harder to stay focused.
"Here," the attendant suddenly said, distracting her from her mind, and proving temporary relief. "Cypress, dragon heartstring, nine and a half inches."
Taking it, she instantly felt a warmth travel up her arm. "It's this one," she said, sure of this fact. Still, to prove herself right, she again repeated the simple spell, watching as the entire room lit up with the pure white light emerging from the tip of her new wand.
"Cypress," the attendant had said, smiling. It seemed to Brooke he had a nasty habit of repeating things. "This, too, has interesting properties. This wood only choses the brave, the bold and the self-sacrificing."
Again he looked meaningfully at her, as if this should bring her some sense of joy, pleasure or self-satisfaction. But all it told her was that she had gotten her new wand and that she could finally get the hell away. The next few moments came as a blur: she paid, thanked him politely, and left back to Hogwarts with her father.
Back in her dorm, she sat on the edge of her bed, fiddling with the new wand. It would be dinner time soon, but she wasn't hungry, despite the fact that she hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. Tossing the wand aside, she lay down, staring blankly at the ceiling. She had homework to finish and text books to read, and yes, she knew it was her O.W.Ls year, but her mind would not focus on work. Turning around, she felt more tears running down her cheeks, and she wondered how she had any left. But she didn't think about it for too long, because she she soon fell asleep, fully clothed, to nightmares of the Slytherin, Joe, and Tristan.
Home 