Only a tool? It wasn't just a tool, it was her wand, her Aspen and Phoenix. It was like a piece of her. She'd had it for thirteen years. That was longer than she'd had some body parts.
And what if it was more than that? What if she hadn't just destroyed her wand, but burned the magic right out of her to boot? What if she'd squibbed herself? It would have seemed like a silly idea once, but with everything going wrong, all kinds of horrible things suddenly seemed possible. Lorcan had to understand that. His own boggart had been a sign of that fear, before she'd even thought it possible. And he'd lost his wand, too!
He'd lost his wand, too.
Corrie had begun to tremble as soon as she realized her wand was gone, slightly at first, but growing all the time she thought and all the time Lorcan talked, and despite his words not being comforting at all his tone was, and he'd been through it too so he must understand even if he wasn't talking about it right, and it was Lorcan and he always made her feel better, even if it wasn't on purpose. So she reacted instinctively, in the only way she could think to with the limited brainpower available to her at the moment - by twisting unexpectedly into his half-hug and throwing her arms around him, injured hand held up and away from him while the other wrapped around, trying to steady and calm herself in one of the few ways that had always worked. Some part of her knew she shouldn't be doing this, and she started to laugh, a creaky and hysterical sound, but it didn't last long - that hurt too - and she wanted to cry, but she wouldn't, so she ended up just standing there, clinging to him like she was hiding, and shivering into his chest for the minutes it took for Corrie to come back to herself. She would probably be mortified about this later on, but right now that wasn't important.