Harmione One Shots

The Wands Knew

Summary: "We're not supposed to be able to do that." "What?" "Use each other's wands so well... Didn't Ollivander tell you something along those lines when you bought your wand? How many others did you have to try before you found the one that worked right for you?" "Quite a few. He said that 'the wand chooses the wizard.'" "Or witch. But exactly, Harry. So why is it that our wands don't distinguish between the two of us?"

Ship: HarryPotterxHermioneGranger

All credit goes to Lysander12 on Ao3

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On the third anniversary of the night they encountered Fluffy, Hermione found herself reflecting on the details of that evening, and on one detail in particular. She had read a book over the summer about wand lore, but the details in the book didn't line up entirely with her experience.

"Oh, move over." She grabbed Harry's wand, tapped the lock, and whispered, "Alohomora!" The lock clicked and the door swung open.

That had been the first time she performed the spell, and it worked just as perfectly as it would have had she used her own wand. By all of the accounts of wandmakers and other experts, that shouldn't have happened.

"Harry?" Both Harry and Ron looked up from where they were bent over their first Potions essay of the year. "Never mind."

"Everything alright?" he asked.

"Yeah," she replied, keeping her tone uncertain enough to prompt the intended reaction.

Sure enough, when Ron gave up for the night and went up to bed, Harry stayed behind. "Is something the matter?" he asked her when only the two of them were left in the darkened common room.

"I'm not sure. Could I try something with your wand for a sec?"

"Er, alright." He passed her his wand, and she aimed at the armchair beside the fireplace.

"Wingardium Leviosa." Sure enough, the armchair rose into the air just as easily as if she'd used her own wand.

"Are you rearranging the furniture?"

"No." She carefully lowered the chair back into its place. Then she handed Harry back his wand, along with her own. "Try the spell with my wand."

"Okay." He did so without any issue.

"We're not supposed to be able to do that."

"What?"

"Use each other's wands so well." At his blank look, she turned fully towards him. "Didn't Ollivander tell you something along those lines when you bought your wand? How many others did you have to try before you found the one that worked right for you?"

"Quite a few. He said that 'the wand chooses the wizard.'"

"Or witch. But exactly, Harry. So why is it that our wands don't distinguish between the two of us?"

"Er, I have no idea."

She sighed. "Nor do I. I'm going to write to Ollivander."

* * *

The wandmaker's response, however, only made her more perplexed. As she had suspected, her and Harry's situation was very irregular. There should have been, at a minimum, some resistance when they attempted to use each other's wands. Instead, the wands seemed to think that they were the same person, a single entity of magic within two separate physical bodies.

He mentioned the theory of soulmates, but confessed that he didn't know much about it, and that Hermione would have to look elsewhere for her research. So, that became her next order of business, and she scoured the library that she already knew so well. But what little information she found was all purely speculative, as there was no hard evidence that the concept of soulmates was anything more than a romantic figure of speech.