Father watches us, but doesn’t say anything out loud, I know he will bring it up the first moment we get to ourselves, but until then we both remain silent. I want to summon my wand back, but I know he will punish me if I do and I don’t want that the first day I am back. I watch as he pats his pocket for good measure, rubbing in the fact that he stole my wand and I can’t do anything about it. The anger inside me flares again as he must know that I hate being apart from my wand, I can do a lot of spells wandlessly, but having it on me makes it easier. My magic feels stronger if my wand is against my skin, easier to manipulate through my body and create the spells.