“Don’t panic.”

The skin on his hand smoldered. Splinters had embedded inside his flesh. The remains of his wand lay on his lap, the blackened wood a bright contrast to the stark white bed sheets.

An overwhelming sense of loss assaulted Harry’s soul. His hands shook. He slowly looked up at Snape, unaware of the tears that slid down his cheeks. The loss was so intense, as if he had lost someone so dear to his heart.

“Don’t panic,” repeated Snape, though he sounded like he was on the verge of panicking himself. He quickly cast a silencing charm around Harry and Luna’s bed. He glanced around the hospital wing. Luckily, no one had noticed. The man’s eyes were wide, all impassiveness gone from his features.

That didn’t make Harry feel better.

“My wand,” whispered Harry. His voice was hoarse. “What…”

Snape lifted his wand and flicked it around Harry’s smoking hands. The splinters quivered. They slowly pulled out of his skin. He winced. Once all the splinters had been removed from his skin, Snape made a swirling motion with his wand. The blackened bits of Harry’s wand responded for a moment, before they went still. Snape lowered his wand; his pale skin had gone ashen.

Lovely.

Snape closed his eyes.

“Harry…”

No, no, no, this wasn’t happening. This had to be a bad dream. He did not just obliterate his wand. This was an illusion – or a bad joke. Fred and George were playing a terrible joke on him. That was the only good explanation for this.

Oh, if it only were true.

His magic… The Black Quill had changed it, hadn’t it? The quill had poisoned him and had somehow changed something about his magic. Why had his wand exploded, though?

“I’m sorry,” said Snape, shaking his head. “There’s no fixing it.” He whispered, “Episkey,” over Harry’s hands. The wounds closed.

No… What am I supposed to do now? Get a new wand? But this one had some protection against Voldemort. I can’t depend on luck every time I’m up against him. At some point, he’s gonna kill me.

“Well, there is one wand that could fix it,” said Luna. She smiled at the startled looks she received. “Have you ever read The Tales of Beedle the Bard? It’s a storybook that my father read to me when I was a little girl. In The Tale of the Three Brothers, there were three objects that Death gave to three brothers. A wand of power, a stone of the dead, and a cloak of invisibility.”

A chill slid down Harry’s spine.

An invisibility cloak? Like mine?

“That is a fairy tale, Miss Lovegood,” whispered Snape.

Harry glanced at the man, frowning slightly. There was something in the man’s tone… Snape wasn’t saying the whole truth.

A bright light entered Luna’s eyes. “Fairy tales…” she whispered. “…are always based on truth.”

“Even so,” said Snape, his tone rising. “Myth or not, that wand would do us no good now. We don’t have it in our possession.”

“Yes, it is rather sad that Professor Dumbledore left before Harry’s wand shattered.”

Snape sighed deeply, dropping his face into his hands. He shook his head for a moment, before he lifted upward, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Miss Lovegood, are you a seer?”

“Oh, no, there’s no seer blood in my family,” said Luna, rather cheerfully. “I just notice things.”

Harry felt like he was missing something here.

“You notice too much.”

“Yes, I know.”

Snape shook his head. He looked at the broken remains of Harry’s wand. His lips thinned. For a moment, he gazed into Harry’s eyes. Unable to hide his emotion, Harry just stared back into the man’s dark eyes. He wished they were alone. Then, perhaps, the man would’ve placed a hand over his or onto his shoulder to offer some kind of comfort.

When would he have time to get a new wand? It wasn’t like there was a wandmaker in Hogsmeade. Would he be allowed to go during Christmas break? Would he have to go to the Dursleys? But that was a month away. What was he supposed to do until then?

“Expecto Patronum,” whispered Snape.

It was ever so brief. But Harry saw it before its form melded into wispy mist. It floated in front of Snape, waiting for its command.

“Ollivander,” whispered Snape into the moving ball of light. “Mr. Potter is in need of a new wand immediately. Come through to the Hogwarts Hospital Wing as soon as possible.”

It was brief yet again. Harry caught sight of the form, before it sped off, disappearing through the wall. A handful of students saw the light, startled by it.

“He should be here shortly,” said Snape, his tone business like. “He won’t waste an opportunity to get you a new wand. He’ll be here within the hour, I have no doubt. Relax, Harry; everything will work out.”

Harry didn’t say anything. He stared at the man, remembering what he had learned during his time with him. Snape had been friends with his mother, Lily. He wasn’t sure what happened between them, though. Lily had married James and it was obvious that Snape didn’t like James. Had that become between them? But… that wasn’t quite it, was it?

Getting married to someone Snape didn’t like couldn’t have been the thing to separate them as friends.

Do Patronuses change form?

And somehow, Harry knew it in his heart. He wasn’t sure when he had realized it. But it made sense. The pained silence whenever she was mentioned and the loathing towards James Potter – the man had felt more for her. She was a friend, a close friend, who had told him things that she hadn’t told anyone else. Just how close had they had been?

‘She wanted to become a healer. From what I can tell, she never told anyone.’

Snape loved his mother.

Even now.

There was something about his Patronus. Harry could tell. His father had been a stag Animagus; his Patronus would be a stag. His mother loved his father. Logic would suggest… that hers would be a doe.

It eased the sorrow in his heart. The aftereffect of the Patronus was still in the air. He felt it – it was love; not just for her, but for Harry as well. This alone seemed to erase all the fear, worry, and sorrow that he had felt over the loss of his wand. It was going to be okay, one way or another – that much Harry felt inside his heart.

Harry looked into the man’s dark eyes. Snape remained silent, watching him with slight unease, as if he were concerned if Harry had figured it out or had seen the Patronus’ true form.

“I accept,” whispered Harry. Joy filled his heart. And he knew – Harry knew that this was the right answer. Snape would take care of him. They would erase the past and start anew. They both deserved this. One day, they would become a family.

One day, Harry would a have a family who would love him.

He wanted it so much – he wanted that family so much. He had spent hours watching the Dursleys through the grate in his cupboard, wishing he could be part of them, but knowing that he never would be their family. Blood didn’t mean a thing to them. Blood would never tie them together.

But here and now, Harry knew that he had been given a chance for a family, even if it were a broken one. A broken family was better than the ‘perfect’ family that the Dursleys said they were.

And Harry was going to do whatever it took to protect his new family.

Snape frowned. “Excuse me?”

“The adoption,” said Harry softly. A smile slowly lifted his face. “I want it. I accept your offer. I want to be adopted by you.”

Snape inhaled. He nodded, his mouth twitching upward a fraction.

“I’m glad,” said Snape. His mouth slid upward. “It is forunate that you accepted, because I would have had some awkward explaining to do if you had chosen otherwise.”

Harry grinned.

Luna clapped her hands together, laughing lightly. “Congratulations, it’s a boy, sir!”

Snape snorted, but he seemed amused nonetheless. After a moment, he sobered. “You’re sure of this, then?” he asked, looking at Harry with a serious light in his eyes. “There’s no going back. You can change a guardianship. You won’t be able change an adoption.”

“I’m sure,” said Harry. He hesitated, wondering if he should say anything more. After a moment, he couldn’t hold back. “Because of your Patronus.”

Snape froze.

And that was he needed to say. There wasn’t anything left.

Perhaps, they would talk about it another time. Time. They had plenty of it, didn’t they? Every day, Harry would have time to be with this man – this man would become a father to him. They’d have lots of times to talk and learn anything and everything.

A tiny seed of worry rooted inside Harry’s heart.

What am I going to say to Sirius?

The Floo flared up and Ollivander stepped out of the fire. He brushed off his suit pants with a hand, while his other hand held onto a briefcase. He glanced around the hospital wing; he caught sight of them, striding to Harry’s bed with a smile on his aged face.

“Mr. Potter, pleasure to see you again,” said Ollivander in a sagely voice. “Though, it would seem that it is upon unfortunate circumstances.”

Snape whispered a spell and the curtains closed around the bed, giving them privacy. Luna waved at Harry as they closed, giving him an encouraging ‘thumbs up.’

“Harry’s wand exploded upon touch,” said Snape, motioning the remains of the wood. “I’m not sure why, but he will need a new wand at any rate.”

“Not a problem that can’t be fixed, I’m sure,” said Ollivander, putting the briefcase onto the bed. He opened it. “Now, feel anything strange when you touched your wand?”

Harry swallowed. “I felt… power in my arm. More than normal.”

“Hmmm…”

The old man studied the contents in his briefcase for a long moment, before he nodded. He pulled out a box and opened it, revealing a wand.

“Very well, Mr. Potter,” said Ollivander, studying the wand for a long moment. “Here you are. Eleven inches, cedar and phoenix feather, flexible. Perhaps this will remind you of your old wand. Go on, try it out.”

Harry reached for the wood. The second his fingers touched the hilt of the wand, he felt the familiar surge of power rushing through his hand. Ollivander gasped. The wand exploded. Flames lifted in the air, a mournful song – one that Harry swore he’d heard before from Fawkes – murmured from the ashes softly, before fading away with the flames. Harry jerked his hand back, trembling in shock.

Ollivander coughed, waving the smoke away. “Good Merlin, no. I guess that wasn’t right. Your magic certainly has changed, then. No more phoenix feathers for you.”

The old man selected another box from the briefcase.

“Thirteen inches and a half, blackthorn and unicorn hair, pliable,” said Ollivander, handing him another wand. Harry hesitated. “Go on, try it out. It’s different than the other wands. You should be fine now.”

Harry stared at it. With a sigh, he grabbed the wand. There was a shrill shriek; the wand exploded. Silver hair curled like writhing worms, before growing black.

His hands shook, almost violently now.

“It’s all right. Don’t panic,” said Snape, putting a hand onto Harry’s shoulder. The man stared at the remains of the wands, his eyes wide.

Three wands in a row, all blown up. Right, hmm…

JUST WHEN COULD HE PANIC?!

“Huh, that is certainly strange,” said Ollivander, frowning. “No matter. You’ve always been a tricky customer.”

Snape removed the splinters from his hand again, looking more grim by the moment. With another spell, the wounds healed.

“This should do, then. Nine inches, black walnut and dragon heartstring, unyielding. Give it a wave, now.”

His hand touched wood. There was a roar, like one he’d heard during the first task of Triwizard Tournament. The wand exploded, like the ones before it. Harry stared at the charred remains.

And the panic was finally settling in…

What if he couldn’t hold a wand ever again? How was he supposed to go to class? How was he supposed to do magic if he couldn’t hold a wand?! What was going to happen to him? There was no need for Umbridge to expel him now. He couldn’t even hold a wand!

“Ollivander, what do you think is wrong?” asked Snape in a low voice, waving his wand over Harry’s trembling hands. The splinters disappeared; the hand healed.

“It would seem that the cores are rejecting him,” said Ollivander, putting a hand to his chin. “But not only that, the wood cannot sustain his magic. It is highly possible that no core or wood will accept his magic ever again.”

Wow, that was soo encouraging.

Harry inhaled deeply. The hand on his shoulder tightened.

“Remember, don’t panic.”

“I can’t use a wand!” shouted Harry, his temper and fear bursting in his chest. “How am I not supposed to panic?!”

“Now, now, Mr. Potter,” said Ollivander in what he must have assumed was an hopeful tone. “You just have to find that wand that can handle your magic, that’s all. It might take you a day to find one or it might take you a lifetime. But I’m afraid that none of my wands will be attuned to your magic and I would rather not you destroy all of my wands in your pursuit for that one match. This is all I can do for you. I wish I could’ve been of more assistance.”

“I’ll pay for the destroyed wands,” said Snape. “Send me a bill.”

“Thank you, but I’ll take the loss on these,” said Ollivander with a nod. “Good day, then.”

He turned away and slipped out through the curtain. A moment later, Luna entered the curtained area. She sat down on the edge of Harry’s bed and placed a hand over his hand. She squeezed gently. The light in her eyes had not dulled.

“Don’t worry, Harry, you can still do magic. It’s not like your magic is ruined.”

“If I can’t use a wand, then how I am going to pass any of my classes?” asked Harry. Bitterly, he realized, that he could probably pass Umbridge’s class, if it weren’t for OWLs.

“There is wandless magic, Harry,” said Snape. He banished the remains of the other wands. He sighed. “This isn’t the end of world.”

“That’s right,” said Luna, her voice ever airy light; she smiled. “After all, in ancient time, witches and wizards didn’t use wands. It’s in The History of Magic volume one and two.”

Snape narrowed his eyes. “As I recall… that book is in the restricted section.”

“Oh, is it?” said Luna with a tilt of her head. Her smile brightened and she let out a light laugh. “Oh, so it is.”

Harry couldn’t help but smile. She would’ve been fantastic on some of his earlier adventures.

“How I am supposed fight Voldemort,” whispered Harry, his gaze seeking Snape. “When I can’t use a wand? How can I defeat him?”

“It’s not your responsibility to stop the Dark Lord,” hissed Snape, his expression darkening. “You are a fifteen year old boy.”

“Yes, it is,” retorted Harry. “It became my fight when he went after me when I was baby – and it is my fight every time he tries to kill me; which is nearly every year that I’ve come to Hogwarts.”

“But it’s not your—”

“Does it matter?” said Harry, interrupting the man in incredulity. “Next time I face him, how I am going to have a fighting chance at staying alive?”

“We’ll just find a wand that works, that’s all,” said Snape, his tone growing louder.

“And where are we going to find one?” demanded Harry, gesturing wildly. “What, we go on some ‘adventure’ to find that one wand that’ll work for me? Right, is that before my big face off with the bad guy or after? Have I used up all my luck chances now?”

Luna stifled a laugh into her hand.

“No, silly,” said Luna. “You just learn to use magic without a wand.”

Snape raised an eyebrow, staring at her with a shocked, dubious expression. “Miss Lovegood, wizardkind need wands.”

“No, we don’t,” said Luna cheerfully. She leaned in closer to Harry, putting her hand by her mouth in a conspiratorial manner. “It’s just a ploy to suppress our true potential.”

Snape huffed, shaking his head. “I had better go now. Classes were delayed today, but I still have a few within an hour.” He pointed a finger at Harry. “We’ll discuss this further. We’ll find your wand. It’s out there. You’ll just have to be patient.”

As Snape left, removing the privacy curtains, Harry leaned back against his pillow. Luna skipped back to her bed, crawling under the covers and patting the surface with a hum under her breath.

Or, instead of being patient, I learn how to use wandless magic.