"Everything is lovely. Your wand is downstairs." She had left it on the counter-top with his name written in small, neat handwriting. His wand's core was barely in-tact, and it had taken her over a week to scrape every bit of it out, considering it a learning experience. The wood wasn't the exact tree, but a sapling of the original branch, but as imperfect as magic was - his wand would work as well as the original.
Luna wasn't hungry, she didn't care to eat ever again, or move from the spot she found herself. Not until things were back to the 'normal' she existed within. Not until Ollivander was the one to knock on her door and tell her to get back to work.