"I know you don't mind," James said with a wry shrug, letting his hand fall. "It works all right for me, and you can tell a fussy wand ... It just doesn't feel right, taking it."
After all it was, or at least it had been, one of the fundamental laws of wizarding society: that you never deprived a witch or wizard of their wand. Asking to borrow a wand felt more like asking to borrow a leg than say, a quill or a Knut. Even knowing you wouldn't be turned down scarcely made it less awkward.
"Anyway," he went on, with a slight smile, "I thought I -"
He had been going to make a joke, however weak, about Diana having picked up bad habits of hexing everyone from him - but what Di had to say thoroughly put a stop to that.
"What?" he asked, stupidly, and moved to stand beside her, where he could see the headline for himself. For a long moment he just stared at it, stunned. He'd wanted news of the others even more than he'd wanted his wand ... but this wasn't how he'd imagined getting it.
"Do you think it's true?" he asked, hoarsely; his throat had gone tight.