Chapter 9

Eight days later, Draco walks in looking battered and worn out, as if he had been in a fight.

"I had a run-in with a group of snatchers. Bloody idiots, the lot of 'em, but they put up a fight."

He waves off my concern and attempts to help him. Sitting on the chair, he closes his eyes and rubs his forehead. I look him over, but don't see any signs of broken bones or serious bleeding. Just some minor scrapes and bruises- he got lucky.

Suddenly Draco smiles and straightens up. "I've got something for you, though."

"Oh? And what is it? Another book?" I don't bother concealing my excitement.

He laughs a little. "Better. Hard to believe, I know, but it is." From inside his cloak he pulls out a wand I do not recognize. I reach out for it, but Draco jumps out of the way, rattling the chair.

"Patience, Granger," he grins, "I haven't gotten a proper look at it yet. Have to make sure it's the right one for you" He dodges another attempt to grab the wand.

"Let's see now. I'm no wand maker, but I would say this is about eleven inches." I snatch at the wand again, but he blocks me with his free hand. "Cherry wood, if I'm not mistaken. Pliable but sturdy."

When I lunge for it a fourth time, he holds it above our heads. He's several inches taller than I am, so the wand is out of my reach. "Draco!" I whine. "That's not fair. Give it here."

"The core, of course, is nearly impossible to determine. However, the two most common materials are dragon heartstring and unicorn hair. Which of the two do you think it might be, Hermione?"

"How should I know? You haven't even let me hold it yet." I jumped once more and managed to grab hold of the wand. With a shout of triumph, I wrestled it from his grasp.

I step back so I can examine the wand myself. Draco seems to have been correct about its make. I look up at him to see him watching me with the tiniest of smiles. Most people would have missed it, but I have been around him for weeks now. I throw my arms around him.

"Thank you, Draco. Thank you." Before he's even recovered from the surprise, I let him go and walk a few paces away to try out the want. It is different from my old wand, but it seems to be eager to help me do what I want it to do. I remember Olivander talking (months ago? Years? A lifetime?) about wands changing allegiances. I suppose this is my wand now.