The Hollow Beneath Hogwarts

57. Don't Look Back In Anger

"Ron, where did you get this?" Sloane asked quietly.

The room had gone strangely silent. Everyone's attention was fixed on the rough wooden wand in her hands. The fake wand. Filch's wand.

The one she remembered so vividly.

Soot still clung to some of the grooves, and when she turned it over in her fingers, she could clearly make out the crooked letters carved into the wood.

ARGUS FILCH

The sight of it made her stomach twist. It felt wrong seeing it here. Wrong seeing it in Ron's possession. Wrong seeing it anywhere except the place where she'd last seen it.

Ron glanced at the wand and shrugged. "Dunno." His answer earned several disbelieving looks. He frowned. "What?"

"That's your answer?" Hermione asked.

"It's the truth." He rubbed at the side of his head and winced. "Also, where is my wand?"

The question seemed to irritate almost everyone at once.

Blaise stared at him. "Your biggest concern right now is your wand?"

"Yes." Ron said although he didn't sound too sure. 

"You were found asleep in a cursed underground chamber with a fake wand and a bag of lettuce." Harry pointed out.

"The lettuce is unrelated." Ron defended knowing how stupid it sounded. 

"It really isn't." Blaise smirked and Ropn knew he wasn't going to live that down anytime soon. 

Ron groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "My head hurts."

"Good," Ginny snapped. "It should."

Ron wisely chose not to respond to that.

Blaise looked back towards the carved wand in Sloane's hands. "It has to be wherever you found this stick."

"Wand," Sloane corrected automatically.

Blaise raised an eyebrow. "It is very clearly a stick."

"It was important to Filch." Sloane said as Draco stepped closer to her putting his hand around her waist. He could sense her fear. 

"It is still a stick." Blaise argued. 

Sloane rolled her eyes but couldn't help a faint smile. The smile vanished almost immediately. Her gaze returned to Ron. "I know where this was." The seriousness in her voice made everyone pay attention again. "And if you were down there, you're lucky you don't have a scratch on you."

Ron blinked. "Eh?" He genuinely looked confused. His hangover might have disappeared thanks to the potion, but he still looked exhausted. His hair was a mess. His clothes were filthy. There was soot on his face, soot under his fingernails and a permanent wince every time he shifted his weight thanks to spending the night asleep against solid stone.

Sloane lifted the wand slightly. "This wasn't originally a wand."

"No kidding," Draco muttered.

She ignored him. "It was a twig. Filch carved it himself."

Ron's frown deepened. "What?"

"He couldn't use magic." The words landed heavily. Even now it felt strange talking about Filch in the past tense. "He carved it to look like a real wand. He carried it around because..." She hesitated before sighing. "Because I think it made him feel better."

Nobody laughed. Nobody made a joke.

For once, even Draco remained quiet.

Sloane swallowed. "He dropped it when he saw the creature."