"Bloody hell," he hears Ron exclaim besides him. "Harry, your wand broke!"

He already knows it, of course. As soon as he takes out his wand from the troll's nose he senses dread invading him. He has only had his wand for a few weeks and it's already broken.

"We can fix it with spell-o-tape, Harry," Ron assures him, showing him his own wand. Harry can see some cracks on it, but they all have tape. "Look," says Ron as he makes sky blue sparks appear. Harry can see the magic trying to get out from the cracks, but the tape holds.

"It won't serve, Harry," says Hermione, examining with critical eyes the broken wand. "It's almost in two parts. Not even spell-o-tape will be able to hold it together."

Harry doesn't talk. Really, what can he say? His wand broke and there's nothing he can do about it. He remembers Ollivander's words about being the brother wand to Voldemort's; about it being almost the only wand with that kind of Phoenix feather. He feels his magic bubbling inside him, as if it could feel his distress. He tries to calm down and breathes deeply.

"What on earth were you thinking?" asked McGonagall to the three students.

Harry doesn't care trying to explain and just stares at his broken wand on his hand while Hermione speaks to McGonagall.

"Minerva," says Snape suddenly, walking towards Harry. "The wand, Potter" he orders and Harry puts his wand on his hand. He glances at professor McGonagall.

"Mr. Potter" she says, clearly astonished. "What did you do to it?"

She takes it from Snape's hands and lets out a small gasp.

"We should inform professor Dumbledore immediately," she says, forgetting all about the troll and storming out of the restroom.

"Go to your dormitories" Snape orders them.

Hermione and Ron comply immediately, but Harry knows he must stay there. Even if he doesn't like Snape, he feels he should stay with him.

"Quirrell, get this under control" he commands. "Potter, follow me."

Harry does as Snape tells him and tries to keep on with his professor's long steps.

"Hurry up, Potter, we don't have time."

After a few more minutes they enter the professor's office. Harry stays at the entrance while the professor goes all the way to his desk and sits in front of it.

"Potter! Don't stay there like a dunderhead and come here."

Harry obeys, walking without really thinking. He still hasn't got over the shock of losing his wand. The wand he only had for two months.

"You know what was so special about your wand, Mr. Potter?" asks Snape. Harry nods and looks at him in the eyes.

"It was the brother wand of Voldemort, but it was much more than that, professor." says Harry. "My wand was part of me..."

"Yes, Potter, I know how special a wand is," says Snape, preventing Harry from muttering what he thought non-sense. "But do you know why you had it?"

Harry looks at Snape in confusion. He is not dumb, and knows the professor is trying to make him think. For the professor's attitude in class, Harry knows Snape hates him, but now there isn't hate on his eyes. Instead, when Harry looks at him, he finds himself prompted with disturbing thoughts.

"Dumbledore wanted it like this, didn't he?" Harry asks the professor, who nods and signals Harry to keep talking. "For some reason, he wants me to have this wand, this... connection, with Voldemort."

Snape nods again. "You will not speak about this conversation, Potter, but when he tries to give you a copy of this wand (a newly made one, you dunderhead child, not even Dumbledore can repair this.) you have to refuse it."

Harry nods. Why is Snape telling him to disobey Dumbledore? And more importantly, why Dumbledore wants him to have that specific wand?

While Harry thinks, a flash of fire appears over the professor's desk and a note is left there. Snape reads it immediately after a muttered comment about birds with no manners.

"Well, Mr. Potter, it seems as if the Headmaster wants you in his office."

Harry gulps. He doesn't know what to expect, but he stands up and walks to the door.

"No, Mr. Potter," says Snape before he can reach the exit. "Floo travel is faster and safer."

Harry doesn't catch the last word, but he follows Snape to the fireplace and follows his instructions.

"You need to speak clearly, Potter, or you could end up in someone else's fireplace."

"All right, professor."

He stands in the fireplace and drops the Floo powder at his feet, just like Snape told him. "Headmaster's Office."

The last thing he sees is Snape's frown before landing on his bottom in front of Dumbledore and McGonagall.

"I'm sorry, sir," he says, standing up.

"My goodness, Mr. Potter. Are you all right?" asks his Head of House.

He smiles at McGonagall, letting her know he's fine. Pursing her lips, she points her wand at him and the dust and ashes from the fireplace disappear from his clothes and hair.

"Harry, my boy," says the Headmaster, speaking for the first time. "I have heard of your actions today. Foolish, but very brave, Harry. Just like your parents."

Harry smiles at the comparison, but doesn't stop feeling suspicious about Dumbledore's intentions or Snape's.

"Do you want to see your wand, Harry?" Dumbledore asks, producing his repaired wand from his robes.

Harry's eyes light up. He takes it from Dumbledore's hands but feels something wrong. There warm sensation he always gets when he holds his wand is gone, along with the subtle tingling on his fingers.

He returns the wand to the professor, frowning. "This is not my wand."

McGonagall turns to give Dumbledore a harsh look, an unvoiced I told you so. Professor Dumbledore looks at Harry sadly.

"This is but a copy of your old wand, Harry," he says. "We had to ask Mr. Ollivander to do another wand instead of the old one. It was beyond repair."

Harry nods, but in his mind he knows Dumbledore is not sharing that information willingly. Something is not right about that. "I'm sorry, Headmaster, but I can't use this wand. It doesn't feel right."

Dumbledore sighs sadly and Professor McGonagall puts a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, Potter," she tells him with a small (almost unnoticeable) smile. "Tomorrow, I'll take you to Diagon Alley to purchase another one."

"Can I still keep my broken wand?" Harry can see his question is surprisingly received. For a moment, Dumbledore hesitates but Professor McGonagall says yes.

"Here it is, Harry," says Dumbledore, giving him the almost two pieces of the holly and phoenix feather wand. "I advise you to not to try to use it. Terrible things could happen."

The twinkle in the eyes of the Headmaster is not there as he speaks, his opaque blue eyes reminding Harry of Ollivander. He said I could make terrible things, but I don't have that wand anymore. Still, Harry nods. There is nothing he can do now, but to wait for his new wand and take care of the broken one.

He doesn't want to talk to Ron (or Hermione) that night, so he fakes a headache and Professor McGonagall sends him to the Infirmary. Madam Pomfrey gladly receives him and gives him a potion to ease the non-existent pain.

After putting on his pajamas, brought to him by a strange little creature with big brown eyes, he climbs into bed. His wand rests on the night table, with his tie and glasses. He doesn't regret saving Hermione, but when he sees his wand he wishes to have been better prepared for the troll.

A small flash of gold lights up on his wand. Like cinders, the phoenix feather turns bright and darkens once and again. It takes Harry a while to notice it does so encompassing his breathing. Sadly, he remembers the words of the wand maker. His wand is an extension of him. The golden light must be what remains of his magic in the wand. He sighs and falls asleep. The wand doesn't light up anymore.

Harry is happy. Even if he still feels bad for not taking care of the holly wand, he is extremely content with the new one.

When Ollivander hands him the redwood and dragon heartstring wand, Harry feels elated. The warm sensation of the Holly wand gets replaced with a wave of power crashing against him. It feels somewhat cool, like a breeze in a summer morning, when he waves it. The golden sparks out of the wand are as bright as with his other wand.

"Remember, Mr. Potter," Ollivander tells him, "Even if you don't have the brother wand of Voldemort's, you may still accomplish great deeds."

Harry is without words, his smile speaking for him.

Still, he knows this can't happen again. No more running behind a troll without knowing what to expect. He will be prepared for anything that might come up.