Hi everybody! This is a one-shot about the feelings of the wand of Harry Potter. It is also featuring on an other site and is getting much appreciation, that I decided to publish on here too.

And to be honest, if I were JK Rowling, I wouldn't be sitting behind my computer, writing fanfiction.

What The Wand Felt:

I was lying there, in a red velvet box and some cotton was surrounding my fragile features. For a wood, I wasn't very tall, but I wasn't short either. I was just good, to be classified in the middle of lengths with my eleven inches. My heart – or core, or whatsoever you like to call it – consists of one single feather of a phoenix, to be more precisely, a feather from Fawkes, the phoenix of Professor Dumbledore.

If I am telling you how I look, I must also admit that I have a brother, looking exactly the same way as I do: he also has a feather from Fawkes as core, but the wood he has been made of, is yew, which is poisonous. He has been sold many years ago and if you think that wands have no feelings or thoughts or whatsoever, then you are wrong. Because at that time, I cried for hours after he was gone. He was like a part of myself and when I lost him, it felt like a part of myself had been gone with him and had attached me to him. I had always thought this to be a good thing, because, as long as the two of us were bounded by something magical, we could exchange our thoughts, we could exchange our power. Unfortunately soon after (we, wands, live very long, if not for ever and a period of fifty years is nothing in comparison to our life expectations) the owner of my brother's wand, started to go the wrong way. And no matter we both tried to stop him, we didn't succeed, for the most power in producing a spell lies with the wizard using the wand. And that was when I first started to regret the magnificent bound we brothers, had.

Some day, somewhere in the early nineties, a boy with a scar on his forehead and huge, broken glasses on his eyes, came into the shop, accompanied by Rubeus Hagrid, the game keeper of Hogwarts. Luckily for me, wands have excellent eyes and so I recognized quite fast that this thin boy was non other than Harry Potter himself, the one who survived my brother's owner.

I saw how Ollivander was taking measurements of Harry's right arm, his length and even his nose. And then he took out several boxes also containing wands like me, before going to the back of his shop. Suddenly I felt how the pile, of which I and my box were forming the top of and then I felt a strong arm grabbing my box. My astonishment was silently taking place for joy about the fact that I maybe was about to be sold to this young man, when I suddenly remembered that it had been this guy the ancient prophecy had told us about and so I started to worry.

I had promised my brother to let him know when I was sold too and if at that precise moment, Voldemort (yes, that's how my brother's owner is calling himself now) had his wand in his presence, he would feel the bound between the two of us. Oh, I didn't want to think about the damage he could do if Voldemort would find out, but something was trying me not to do that, because, even if I am a wand, I still am a part of the magical world and I am not in the right position to change the future in any way I want.

So, I let me being carried on the strong hand of the old Mr. Ollivander and I soon met the old table where I was placed on. Ollivander urged Harry Potter to take me in his hand and as soon as he did so, I felt all the fireworks one was supposed to feel when he/she was in love for the very first time in his/her life. My 'eyes' were blinded by the light Harry's hand seemed to produce and from the deepest of my wooden body I felt a joy that I never felt before. It was even more than joy, it was like the first time seeing something amazing, the first time you read a wonderful book,…

All this feelings combined went through me as a big wave, but the warm feeling was as quickly gone as it had come. And then I heard Harry Potter muttering a spell Ollivander had told him to use and in the next moment, I felt from the bottom of my phoenix core something bubbling to my head and then I saw myself produce a beautiful shade of gold reflecting in the dirty mirrors of the shop.

I could feel both Harry and Ollivander smile and before I knew it, I was put again in my red velvet box, Harry paid and off we went, searching for new experiences like these. Although, I knew that it would take exactly seven years before I would feel such a sensation again.