Drop. Drop. Drop. Drop. Severus took a deep breath and exhaled, his muscles relaxing one by one. He was slowly walking through one of Hogwart's inner gardens, not minding the light rain in the slightest. The green of the plants and the silence of the garden were soothing to his nerves, which were stretched taut by giving lessons to disobedient and careless children. Every small mistake could blow them all up, sending them to the infirmary or an early grave. Apparently, Severus was the only one who realised that. Children were safe and cocky in their feeling of immortality. Albus at his age should know better, but didn't. He denied Severus every time he had asked for special protective barrier-wards, or at least splitting the students into smaller groups. Albus always claimed he had 'full confidence in Severus' abilities'.
Severus scowled. Then he forced his brain to switch to another topic. Relaxing again, he pondered his latest research of variations of Wolfsbane Potion.
The gardens were blissfully empty, with unending raining chasing everyone in, confining them to indoor activities.
"I was thinking, Neville." A voice destroyed the silence, and Severus made a displeased face. Of course, Potter would spoil his day, just as he kept doing the last three school-years. Severus figured out the Gryffindors were occupying an alcove usually saved for lovers, and decided to gave it a wide berth. He couldn't fail to hear the last of Potter's sentence, though.
"Ollivander told me a wand chooses a wizard." Severus turned his eyes upwards. With Potter's face the boy inherited James' feeble mind.
"Maybe it's not your fault that you have problems with charms and spells. Maybe your dad's wand doesn't work for you properly." Potter continued in his unusual activity – thinking.
Severus stilled. Then he shook his head. It wasn't unheard of for a family member to be fully compatible with an ancestor's wand. Frank's wand probably matched the boy, otherwise lady Augusta wouldn't let her Grandson use it. Longbottom was just a loser. His sorry performance in Potions definitely had nothing to do with a wand.
The boy was of the same opinion, because he objected, "But, Harry, it works for me. If it was a wrong wand it wouldn't work at all."
Severus knew that was false, and interestingly enough, Potter held the same knowledge. "Hermione's wand works for me for some spells, but they are weaker than when I do them with my wand," he informed Longbottom, "and for some charms it won't do at all. For me, I mean. For Hermione, it works okay."
Eloquent as ever. Severus wondered if he should continue with his walk, or eavesdrop some more. Spying won.
Longbottom was silent, so Potter continued. "Try my wand. Well, try levitating this."
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
"Great," Potter enthused. Severus rolled his eyes. Longbottom in his third year made a thing fly. Yay. Celebrate, everyone.
"Was that easier or harder than with your wand?"
"I don't know." Severus could practically see the pathetic boy shrugging.
"Okay, let's try something harder," Potter decided. "Change this feather into an arrow."
"But, Harry, we did that only last week. I've never managed to transfigure it with even with my wand."
"That's the point! Try it with my wand." After a short silence he continued, "Never mind, I haven't managed this either. Let's go to find Hermione. She'll make a list of spells and charms to try it on. She'll probably agree to hand her wand too, so you can try everything with three wands."
Let's turn Longbottom into a guinea pig, Severus smirked, amused.
"Thanks, Harry," The other boy said dejectedly, "but even if I found my Dad's wand doesn't work best for me, my Gran wouldn't let me change it."
"Why? She must want you to do your best!" Potter protested, scandalised.
"She would think I'm disrespectful to Dad, that I don't love him enough." Longbottom explained, and Severus frowned. He knew Augusta was hit hard by what happened to Frank and Alice, but as hard as to sabotage her Grandson's education?
"I'm sorry about your Mum and Dad," Potter said compassionately. "But I love my Dad and Mum, and I don't even know where their wands ended up."
Severus contemplated idly where the wands of late Potters were. They should be in Potter family's vault with other heirloom. Or maybe Albus had them.
Longbottom had nothing to say to that, and so it was again Potter's voice that sounded through the garden. "Your Grandma doesn't have to know. You use your wand only at school, anyway."
Typical Potter! Severus snorted to himself.
"I don't have Galleons for it, and Grandma only gives me some when I tell her what I want to spend them on. And she never lets me to go to Diagon Alley by myself," Longbottom objected.
Severus sighed. Beside the boy's resigned passivity, Potter's rule breaking lets-do-it attitude seemed like a virtue. Longbottom might die from thirst when sitting on a riverbank with this approach!
"Galleons are not a problem, I've got plenty. We need someone who'll take you to Ollivander's, though." Potter informed him matter of factly. Severus had to admit to himself that the boy was generous. He couldn't imagine Draco offering this to any of his Slytherin acquaintances, and Merlin knows he had Galleons enough.
"McGonagall could take you," Potter suggested.
"No!" Longbottom exclaimed. "She's my Gran's friend. She would tell her!"
"Okay, don't panic." Potter soothed. "Flitwick?"
"He's her friend too. They attended Hogwarts together," Longbottom explained.
"Hagrid would tell Dumbledore, who might tell McGonagall," Potter pondered their options, "maybe Sprout, then? She likes you."
Later, Severus never figured out what prompted him to step out and show himself to the Gryffindors. "If Miss Granger comes to a fact-based decision that your wand doesn't work properly, I will take you to Diagon Alley next Saturday to be fitted for a new wand."
Severus didn't stay to bask in Potter's astonished expression, turned on his heel and marched back to the castle.
..ooOOOoo..
Longbottom's new wand was approximately the same colour as his old one had been, and no teacher noticed the change. Severus smirked to himself whenever he heard them talking in the staff room about the 'stark difference in the boy's performance'.
Chapter 1
The End.