Thomas twisted the broken piece of wood between his fingers, having been unable to put it away since it had arrived in the post. He spun the familiar handle in his hand, the grooves and curves bringing back memories good and bad: the smell of Ollivander's shop and the surprise at how easily the wand had chosen him and the vague, blurry memory of the wand being snapped, the crack reverberating between his ears. Thomas had thought this wand had been lost forever, but to have it back in his possession once more was not a fortunate thing. Whoever had taken the wand in the first place was sending him a message, and he didn't like it one bit.

"What are you making?" Thomas asked without much of a question in his tone as he entered his kitchen. Kendall was preparing what he assumed was dinner, but Thomas kept his gaze down as he pulled open a clutter drawer (that wasn't particularly cluttered, as he couldn't stand a mess) and placed the wand into it. He'd held onto the wand tightly since it had arrived, but not in the presence of his friend. He still wasn't sure what to do with the entire situation; would telling people about it make it worse or would simply ignoring it cause it to go away?

He slid onto a stool at the end of the kitchen island, lifting his chin to try and get a look at what was being stirred in the saucepan. "That doesn't smell healthy."