Chapter Text
Harry didn't know soulmates were a thing beyond the fantastical love stories Aunt Petunia liked to read in secret. The concept of the universe moulding someone to be a perfect match to your soul was a little too magical ; even for him, even with the knowledge of all the incredible things possible with magic. Besides, he wasn't aware that muggles and wizards differed in their physiology at all. Except for the obvious lack of magic, muggles were nearly identical to wizards.
So could he be blamed for his ignorance?
Every time he had heard any female classmates giggling over soulmates and fated pairs he had dismissed it as the fantasies of prepubescent girls spurred on by the presence of one Gilderoy Lockhart. After all, if it was something important surely Hermione would have mentioned it by now?
So, no, Harry didn't even know what a soulmate was.
And he certainly didn’t have time to figure out the differences between muggle and wizarding puberty; what with the murderous teacher and three-headed dog in first year or the giant killer snake and teenage Voldemort in second year.
So imagine his shock when he wakes on his thirteenth birthday to a name inking itself on his skin.
A very familiar name.
Harry's sleep broke in the middle of the night, the pale moonlight slithering in through the flimsy curtains illuminated his tiny room. Harry was confused about what had broken his sleep. After a lifetime of living with the Dursleys, he had learned to get sleep whenever and wherever he could, so a little moonlight surely wouldn't have woken him up.
Then, he felt it.
With a gasp, he sat up and turned over his right wrist. It was tingling incessantly, but it wasn’t painful; rather, it felt as if that thin section of his wrist had been dunked in ice-cold water.
“What on earth?”, Harry questioned as he stared down in abject fascination as letters slowly formed from nowhere on his skin. The letters formed top down, but the elegant slanting handwriting was instantly recognizable to him, even before they were halfway formed.
His heart picked up speed.
No way. Why? How? Was this some sort of cruel prank? How did he even manage to do this in the middle of the summer vacation? Harry hadn't even seen him since school let out. There had to be some sort of explanation as to why that name had inked itself onto his skin in familiar, pretentious handwriting.
Harry reached out with shaking fingers to trace the looping calligraphy script. He gasped as he finally touched it but it was indistinguishable from the rest of his skin. It didn’t feel painful or inflamed like a tattoo, it blended seamlessly into his skin. Gritting his teeth, he rubbed the skin harder, willing the ink to come off. He rubbed and rubbed and rubbed and rubbed.
Five minutes later, he was left with a smarting wrist and the name still staring up at him mockingly.
Harry wasn’t a quitter however and with a frustrated growl, he shoved his thin blanket off and quietly made his way to the bathroom, taking extra care not to alert the other members of the house unless he wanted to starve for three days. Squinting, he turned on the harsh bathroom lights and ran his wrist underwater. Cold and hot. He scrubbed it with soap. Dried it aggressively with a towel. Nothing. The ink wouldn’t budge. It wouldn't even smear. Harry was quickly realising, he wouldn't be able to remove this on his own. Gritting his teeth, he made his way back up to the bed, ashamed at his defeat.
Harry settled into bed and stared at the name on his right wrist. His eyes slowly became heavy as the darkness of the night settled in around him.
“What a shitty prank anyways,” he mumbled before sleep took him.
His wrist was bared to the cold night air, and adorned with the name Draco Malfoy.
x.
The name on his wrist remained a minor but persistent inconvenience.
No matter what magical or muggle methods he tried, it wouldn't budge. Not to mention, when he actually did wake up properly on the morning of his birthday and went down to serve breakfast as usual, Aunt Petunia caught a glimpse of the writing and freaked out .
She had grabbed him harshly by his left hand, her wild eyes glinting with a greater level of disgust than usual. Harry was shocked. She was usually quite mild in the mornings when it was just the two of them in the kitchen, Uncle Vernon and Dudley still snoring away upstairs.
“When did you get that ?”, she hissed, her mouth curled into a particularly ugly sneer.
Harry’s breath stuttered and he quickly explained, “Today! In the night! It just appeared I didn’t write it! I tried to wash it off but it wouldn’t budge!”
She let go of his arm as if he was a particularly smelly sock and crossed her arms over her chest, peering at him down her nose.
“Get a wristband from the drawers next to the sofa and hide it. Don't you dare let anyone else see that, you understand me, boy?” She dictated and then turned on her heel and stomped upstairs likely to wake the others.
Harry gritted his teeth in frustration. Stupid Malfoy’s stupid prank was getting him in trouble for no good reason. He secured the wristband tightly and made sure the name wouldn't be visible, not like Harry wanted people to see Malfoy’s name on him either. Aunt Petunia was already cross with him and it wasn’t even nine in the morning yet. Not to mention, in a few hours, Aunt Marge would come barging in, treating him like the dirt beneath her shoe. If Aunt Petunia reacted so aggressively he shuddered to think how the Dursley siblings would react to Malfoy’name on his skin.
No, better to keep it hidden until he could get Hermione to remove it.
x.
It wasn’t until Harry had settled into his bed at the Leaky Cauldron after defeating the monster book that his mind wandered over to the name inked on his wrist. He had kept the wristband on during the entire duration of Aunt Marge’s stay; right up until she had floated away screaming in fear. He suppressed a chuckle at the memory, better able to appreciate it now that the anger and adrenaline had faded.
Briefly, his mind flashed to the scraggly large black dog he had seen moments before the Knight Bus arrived. His intuition told him, somehow, that the dog was important. Although, he reasoned with himself, how could a random stray from Surrey be of any importance to his life in the rolling hills of Scotland?
He ran his fingers over his still-covered wrist, and let out a low gasp as the same cooling sensation spread from it. He wondered what spell Malfoy had used to ink his name onto Harry like so. Harry wasn’t even aware there was a spell that could specifically activate on his birthday, although that wasn’t surprising, Harry didn't know a lot about magic and Malfoy must have used a dark spell he found in his weird evil mansion. The last time Harry had seen Malfoy had been on Platform 9 ¾, as he was saying his goodbyes to the Weasleys he had caught his gleaming blond head rushing over to his mother. Even from a distance, the similarity was uncanny, Malfoy behaved like his father but looked much more like his mother. Harry didn’t know when he had the chance to throw an undetected curse at him but he resolved to do something about that stupid magical tattoo.
After the Minister had finished giving him an awkward scolding, not for blowing up his aunt but rather for running away from home, Harry had taken the rare opportunity to live freely and had enjoyed his stay at Diagon Alley, far too much. Harry had probably eaten every flavour of ice cream imaginable and spent way too much time drooling over the newly released Firebolt. He had crawled around every inch of Diagon Alley and was intimately familiar with it now, something that brought him immense joy.
Standing from the bed, he wandered over to Hedwig to give her a couple of scritches on the head before he headed downstairs. Ron and Hermione should have arrived by now.
He stepped outside and was almost knocked over by a plump scraggly rat being ferociously chased by a large orange cat, the two being rowdy and loud. Harry recognized the rat immediately, Scabbers was here, which means so was Ron.
Huffing with laughter, Harry made his way downstairs to the main floor of the inn. Even at the stairs, he could make out the distinct voices of his two best friends sniping at each other angrily. He settled for a moment and watched the both of them argue back and forth. Scabbers clutched protectively in Ron’s hands while Hermione struggled to hold the bulk of Crookshanks, her newly acquired pet. As the two argued the merits of the predatory relationship between a cat and a rat, Harry felt his chest fill with unbridled fondness for them.
“Oh, Harry!” Hermione exclaimed finally noticing him.
“Harry!” Ron turned, his disgruntled expression smoothing out into a warm smile.
Harry leapt down the final few stairs and gratefully accepted their warm embrace, almost being suffocated by Hermione’s hair. He grinned at the two of them, something in his soul feeling settled at last at finally being reunited with them.
“Mum’s been wanting to meet you, Harry,” Ron began, tugging him toward where the other Weasleys were, “we only just arrived from Egypt and she wanted to make sure you haven’t been starving or something.”
Harry reached out to stop him, “I’ll go say hi Ron, but first I need to talk to you and Hermione about something,” he explained when Ron quirked a curious brow at him.
“Oh, Harry, did you buy a new wristband? I haven't seen you wear something like that before,” Hermione pointed out and Harry was once again awed at how truly brilliant she was in all aspects.
“Yes. that is what I wanted to talk about,” Harry noticed the two of them share an excited look and couldn't help his confusion, what’s so exciting about a stupid prank of Malfoy’s?
“Let’s go up to my room then?”
x.
The three of them settled on Harry’s bed, Ron lying back against the pillows, Scabbers stuffed in his pocket to keep him safe, Harry sat next to him and Hermione perched on the other end of the bed, Harry finally unfastened his wristband. Ron and Hermione stared at him curiously.
“You see, I don’t know how he did it but I woke up on my birthday and well,” he offered his bare wrist for their inspections, Draco Malfoy’s name still inked on it, “No matter what I do, I can’t remove the git’s name.”
Hermione gave a sharp gasp, her eyes blown wide, genuine shock written all over her face. Ron had sprung up from his leisurely lay and was staring at his wrist as if it was Voldemort himself, his face reddening to match his hair, his mouth opened and closed but no words escaped him.
Suddenly, he sprang forward and grabbed Harry by the wrists. “Hey!” Harry protested as his best friend frantically and aggressively wiped at his wrist, muttering expletives under his breath, “Ron, enough! I tried it won't rub away!”
“Ron, stop!” Hermione bellowed and it finally broke Ron from his frantic trance and he collapsed back against the pillows, looking as if he had gotten robbed for all his worldly possessions, his skin pale and expression ghastly.
“Oh, I can't believe this,” Hermione exclaimed, her voice oddly wobbly as she reached out to inspect his wrist but stopped just shy of her fingers making contact with his wrists.
Harry was starting to get puzzled by their odd behaviour. Yes, it was awkward to have Malfoy’s name inked on him, but it wasn’t harmful and surely didn't warrant such extreme reactions. Harry ignored how he had tried for nearly an hour to remove the name himself, no need to validate their odd behaviour.
“What? Why are you both reacting like this? Hermione, I was hoping you would know the spell to remove this because I don't,” his words only seemed to upset Hermione further and she looked at him with tears in he eyes.
“What? What’s wrong? Did the git poison me or something?” Harry asked, alarm rising in him to see Hermione genuinely distressed.
“You can't,” Ron wheezed from behind him.
Harry turned to look at him, Ron had his arms thrown over his face, but his knuckles were white with strain from where they clutched his sleeves. He must have sensed Harry’s confusion since he continued, ignoring Hermione’s hitching breaths.
“Harry, you can’t remove that It’s not a prank. It’s your soulmark. Malfoy is your soulmate.”
Harry’s brain screeched to a stop.
Malfoy was his WHAT?
He spluttered in protest, opening his mouth to rage at Ron, “Don't be ridiculous Ron, soulmates aren't real and even if they were, why would mine be Draco Malfoy ?”
“Oh, Harry,” Hermione interrupted her eyes still shiny, her fingers twisting in her lap, “I thought you knew!”
“Knew what!?” he spat, his indignation and confusion robbing him of any manners.
“All witches and wizards have a soulmate, Harry,” she began and her spine threatened, her voice gaining a familiar tone, indicating she was about to dump some crucial knowledge onto him, “on the onset of puberty, from the ages of thirteen to seventeen, on the younger one’s birthday, a soulmate pairing will have each other’s names inked onto their wrists. It has been a part of our physiology since the times of Merlin, at least , there’s a legend actually,” but Harry could not listen to this any longer.
He angrily cut her off, “You're kidding me right? How come nobody told me that this was even a thing? Muggles don’t have soulmates but wizards apparently do and I was never told?” He wasn’t going to think about what this meant for him and Mafoy . He couldn’t. His heart was thudding away, distraught at something so important being kept from him. Something that was part of his physiology. How come nobody had sat him down and talked to him about it?
“Harry, people have told you that your parents were soulmates, I thought you read about it, it was in the introductory booklet we received First Year!” Hermione exclaimed, tone pleading in the face of his anger.
“What booklet?” he snarled, even Ron looked confused.
Hermione tilted her head at them, her hair falling into her face, tucking it back she continued, “The information booklet that came with your Hogwarts letter? It had all the basic information about the wizarding world, soulmates were included there. I can understand Ron not receiving one but Hary, you were raised by the Dursletys, you surely did!”
Harry clenched his jaw, his mind flashing to the circumstances under which he received his letter. Despite the hundreds of letters sent to No.4 Privet Drive, he doesn't remember seeing a singular ‘information booklet.’ Surely, Dumbledore didn't expect the Dursleys to sit him down and explain the magic of wizard physiology. Hagrid had come to take him, but the half-giant had only helped him get his school supplies from Diagon.
He had met Malfoy for the first time that day, the first wizard his age he ever met. He remembered seeing the slight blond figure getting measured at Madam Malkins. He remembered the first words spoken between them; ‘Hullo, Hogwarts too?’ , and he also remembered how Malfoy’s pink lips had curled in distaste at the sight of Hagrid. He remembered hating him then too, with a stab through his heart.
“I never got anything like that Hermione,” he gritted out, “Nobody told me.”
Hermione looked even more stricken somehow. As if knowledge being kept hostage from him was somehow the biggest injustice that had happened to him in his frankly miserable life.
“You said my parents were soulmates,” he asked the both of them softly.
Ron sat up and nodded, clapping his shoulder in support, “Yeah, mate, they were. From what I know, your parents got their soulmarks their last year at Hogwarts, and then when they got married they also had a traditional soul-bonding ceremony.”
Harry’s heart twisted and his eyes prickled, he still didn’t fully comprehend what it meant to be soulmates in the wizarding world, but it made sense to him. James and Lily being soulmates just made sense in the same way it made sense that the sky was blue and the Sun rose from the East. Of course, if there was a measure of love as pure as being soulmates, they would meet it. Harry wished he had the opportunity to see them be each other’s soulmates. The thought that they didn't get a lifetime with each other was devastating enough, the thought of them being soulmates somehow added to the tragedy.
“What does it mean then? That I have Malfoy’s name written on me?” he asked quietly, his indignation had burned out and his head hung low.
Ron and Hermione shared a glance over his head, finally, Hermione turned to him, reaching for his hands.
“Harry, according to legend, it is magic itself that grants you your soulmate,” Hermione began but then her voice seemed to choke up, her tears rolling down her cheeks.
“A soulmate is supposed to be your other half, every wizarding child is raised on stories about their soulmate, y’know? A soulmate is supposed to complete you and compliment you in every way.” Ron explained, his voice reverent and with a quiet awe to it that Harry had never heard before.
“And yours…” Ron trailed off hesitantly side-eying him with caution.
Harry huffed, “And the other half of my soul is supposed to be Malfoy ?” He didn't try to hide his incredulity, he still couldn't accept it.
The notion of a soulmate was grand, it seemed so perfect, to have someone made to love him. To be his other half. Someone who would be entirely his , in a way nobody else in his life was. Harry yearned for that, he craved it. But Harry couldn't accept that someone for him was supposed to be Draco Malfoy of all people. Surely, there must be some sort of mistake.
The three of them looked at each other in quiet distress, nobody fully willing to acknowledge the truth.
“Guess we will find out won’t we?” Ron began after a beat of silence, his blue eyes sharp, like they are when he is strategizing ten steps ahead during a chess match, thinking of all possible outcomes and how to prepare for them. “We go back to Hogwarts tomorrow, Malfoy will surely tell you to piss off then.”
“There must be some explanation for why, Harry,” Hermione shook her head, her curls swinging with the movement, stubborn refusal on her face. “Magic doesn't make mistakes like this.”
“Well, it did for me,” Harry muttered sullenly.
They were startled as they heard Mrs. Weasley’s voice calling for them, Harry quickly put the wristband back on, in case someone came in. Somehow the knowledge of his link with Malfoy made him feel small and ashamed, he wanted to curl up into a ball and stay like that until he could properly process what this meant.
As they made their way downstairs, Harry gave each of them a harsh look, silently saying Not a word.
He rather die than admit to the Weasleys that the son of their mortal enemy, Draco Malfoy, was his apparent soulmate.
x.
When they arrived on Platform 9 ¾ Harry was still reeling from all the new information he had gained over the last twenty-four hours.
Sirius Black, crazed Death Eather and mass murderer, had broken out of Azkaban, in search of him . Draco Malfoy was his soulmate.
Somehow, the second one still seemed more bizarre to him. Crazy Voldemort lover trying to kill him, Harry could handle but even thinking of what Malfoy will say to him when they first lock eyes gives him heart palpitations. Harry had spent the whole night agonising. Ron said wizards grew up on stories about soulmates, and Harry did not, but even from what he knew from the Muggle world, he knew soulmates were a big, important thing. Still, he couldn't imagine Malfoy ever accepting this peacefully. He couldn't imagine himself being bound to Malfoy like this for life. There must be some other explanation.
He still hadn’t come to grips with the whole thing, when he inevitably met Malfoy he didn’t know how he would react. He had managed to delay the meeting until the train had begun its journey, but Harry was under no doubt a confrontation was inevitable. Maybe Malfoy would curse him for sullying his skin with Harry’s name, maybe they would have to duel right there on the train. Malfoy might be appalled that a half-blood like Harry is his soulmate, he might even have a way to remove their names. What Harry wouldn’t give for that , he thought mirthfully.
What ended up happening though… was slightly different.
The three of them ended their fruitless search for an empty compartment and settled beside an unknown sleeping Professor. After checking that the man was truly asleep, Harry relayed the warnings Mr. Weasley had given him about Sirius Black. Hermione and Ron both shared in his shock and horror.
He was just about to try and switch the conversation to something less heavy when who else but Malfoy slammed open their compartment’s doors. The very air seemed to freeze as he appeared. His glinting eyes swept over the compartment before setting on Harry. Harry watched as a steeliness settled into his eyes before he barged his way into the compartment and bullied Hermione and Ron into making space for him opposite Harry. The Gryffindors could only stare with open-mouthed shock.
Malfoy settled into his seat, and took a deep breath, closing his eyes and seemingly gathering strength. He perked up then and with a glance at the sleeping professor next to Harry, cast a simple Silencing spell. Harry could feel his heart hammering in his chest, this was it .
“So,” Malfoy began, his voice as smooth as silk and his accent as posh as ever, “it seems you and I are linked, Potter.”
Harry clenched his jaw, Malfoy’s tone gave nothing away, and he had the perfect poker face as he stared right at Harry with his huge silver eyes.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Harry couldn't help the snappish tone, and he could see Ron and Hermione cringing in his peripheral view.
“You and I are soulmates, Potter, we need to talk about that surely?” Malfoy asked, his infuriatingly calm tone still present. Harry couldn't stand it.
“Do you seriously expect me to kiss your feet because some stupid tattoo says so?” he was being confrontational but he didn't care, he couldn't stand the fake calm that was settled over the normally exuberant boy.
Finally, emotions returned to Malfoy’s eyes, his eyes narrowed, glinting with indignation, “It’s not a tattoo Potter! It’s our soulmark ! You and I are soulmates ! Do you really want to disregard that?” Malfoy raged at him, his chest heaving at the end of his passionate rant.
“I don't want anything to do with someone who takes issue with the mere existence of my best friend, Malfoy,” Harry spat venom in his words. He could see Hermione stiffen in her seat next to Malfoy, whose own face twisted into a grimace.
“Listen, I won’t deny that my upbringing has caused issues , especially with how I have behaved,” the blond paused taking a shaky breath, and Harry watched his chest move enraptured, “with your friends , but I value the possibility of being with my soulmate more than those ideals. I am willing to learn and be better, I’ll apologise once I understand better.”
It seemed fake, Harry almost expected a Muggle camera crew to come bursting out and tell him he was being pranked. Hermione and Ron looked as shocked as he felt, their eyes wide and mouths open.
“You will apologise ?” Ron asked incredulously, his tone indicating how ridiculous he found the whole thing.
“Yes, Weasley,” Malfoy spat, frustration twisting his features, “I want a relationship with my soulmate, surely you understand? I am not saying anything now because you and I will both know it won’t be genuine, and I don't want that! I want to make an effort and I want to do it right , so if you would wait until I can do that, I’d appreciate it. From both of you.”
Ron nodded dumbly, his blue eyes wide with shock, something about Malfoy’s speech seemingly pleased him. Hermione stared Malfoy down with narrowed eyes, but even she seemed contemplative.
Harry couldn’t believe this.
Harry’s insides twisted, a sickening feeling rising in him, but the git was speaking too much nonsense for Harry to back down. The anticipation of how Malfoy would react, the pent-up stress of everything he had learned, and the shock at having Malfoy seemingly want to be his soulmate and willing to apologise were all mixing inside his head. He couldn’t process it. He hadn’t even fully grasped the concept of soulmates, let alone being able to acknowledge that Draco Malfoy was his soulmate. He wasn’t in his right mind and he wasn’t able to handle the situation properly.
The situation was happening though.
“I don't want to be your soulmate, Malfoy!” Harry raged as he sprang up from his seat and towered over the other boy, who stared up at him in shock, “You’re a shit human being, you’re awful! To me, to Ron, to Hermione! You’re a filthy blood purist who probably doesn't even know how to love! Don’t make me laugh! You want to apologise ? You could get on your knees and beg for forgiveness and it still wouldn’t be enough! Do you think you can just learn to be a good person? No! You're just like your father ! You were born rotten, and you will die rotten!”
As Harry’s spiel ended, a chill settled over the compartment.
Ron stared at him open-mouthed, his blue eyes blown wide with shock at the vicious vitriol Harry spat out. Hermione had her hands over her mouth, her disbelief at his behaviour painted over her face. Worst of all was Malfoy though.
He stared up at Harry with eyes blown wide, the silver of his pupils shimmering with the sheen of tears, his pale skin flushed red with anger (or was it humiliation?) His pink lips were open slightly and his chest heaved with laboured breaths. He was frozen in place it seemed and he looked devastated.
Harry tried to control his heaving breaths, and he watched, completely transfixed, as a single teardrop made its way down his cheeks. That seemed to break Malfoy from his trance. The blond shifted to stand, his movements oddly stiff. Now face to face, Harry was reminded that the blond was a few frustrating centimetres taller than him. Harry tensed in anticipation of a fight, an argument, or something .
Except, Malfoy did none of that.
He raised his head to look Harry in the eye again, his expression steely once more, Harry’s breath caught on its way out.
“As you wish Potter,” the blond said, his tone so soft Harry would’ve missed it if every atom of his being wasn’t focused on him.
And with that, he slid out of their compartment silently and left without a second glance, the line of his shoulders tight. Harry watched him go and then collapsed back into the seat behind him, his eyes unseeing as his brain frantically tried to process what on earth had happened. His heart raced in his chest and it felt like he was drowning, he shifted his gaze away from where Malfoy disappeared to Ron and Hermione, who were still staring at him, faces full of shock and horror. It took Harry a moment to understand what he had done, parsing through the horrified looks directed at him.
Harry had just rejected his soulmate.
“Mate…” Ron began, his voice thin and wavery.
Harry squeezed his eyes shut, trying to pretend they weren’t watering. Somehow, the tiny tinge of disappointment in his voice cut him deeper than anything. Ron had told him that every wizarding child grew up hearing stories about their soulmate, how they were meant to complete each other. Malfoy had approached him because he thought Harry was his other half . His soulmate; the way his parents were. And Harry had thrown that away. All Harry had ever wanted was to belong, to a family, to someone. Magic itself had decided that the person meant for him was Malfoy but he still couldn’t reconcile it. If he were to believe Malfoy’s words, the blond was certainly willing to try. Was Harry being too hasty throwing this opportunity away?
“Harry, he wanted to apologise, are you sure you don't even want to try ?” Hermione asked the tough question straight up, her bravery never wavering.
Harry swallowed, he had thought.. well he had been resisting even thinking of Malfoy as his soulmate, he had thought the boy would mock him for it. When confronted with the fact that instead, Malfoy was earnest, willing to try, willing to apologise , Harry couldn't accept it. He still couldn't wrap his head around it. It hadn’t even been a full twenty-four hours since he had learned of soulmates after all.
“I don't want to talk about this,” he finally replied.
Before, the three of them could discuss this further the train lurched to a stop. They looked at each other with alarm. It was pitch-black outside and the temperature dropped sharply. Their breaths came out in white puffs, completely odd for the time of year.
“We can't be there yet,” Hermione mused.
“Something’s moving out there,” Ron whimpered spooked by what he saw.
They couldn’t do much else before the door to their compartment was slid open by a black skeletal hand and suddenly all Hary could feel was despair .
He didn’t know where he was, his mind floating away from him. He remembered cold winter nights trapped in the closet, going days without sunlight. He remembered the first time Uncle Vernon had struck him. He remembered the first and last time he had made the mistake of seeking maternal affection from Aunt Petunia. He remembered being starved, he remembered being berated and insulted for existing. He remembered the horror of seeing Ginny lying on the dirty floor of the Chamber of Secrets.
He remembered Malfoy’s teary eyes from minutes ago.
He remembered a green light and a woman screaming, far away, long ago.
Then he remembered nothing.
x.
Learning of the Dementor’s existence, fainting due to their mere presence and then being informed that they would be stationed around Hogwarts for the foreseeable future all because of Sirius Black had certainly put a damper on Harry’s mood. Even though the chocolate Professor Lupin had given him had helped immensely, he still felt sullen and poked at the mash on his plate listlessly.
Even news of Hagrid’s promotion didn’t help.
Ron was heartily eating as always, as if he had three stomachs, not one, perhaps that’s why he was so tall, Harry mused. Hermione was shooting him concerned glances but Harry purposely didn’t meet her eyes. Instead, he was too busy staring across the Hall at Malfoy.
The blond was a little less animated than usual, Harry could tell, but clearly nobody else could. His eyes were pinched and his nose slightly pink even though they were in the warmth of the Great Hall. He carried on holding court as usual with his Slytherin buddies, but his gestures lacked their usual flair. It all seemed perfectly normal.
Except, Malfoy hadn’t looked towards him once.
Harry supposed it shouldn’t be surprising, considering Harry had taken the olive branch Malfoy had offered him and beat him upside down the head with it. Still, Harry couldn’t recall the other boy ever ignoring him before. From the moment they had first met at Madam Malkins, to last year when the entire school thought he was the Heir and unleashed a Baillisk on them, Malfoy had never hesitated to meet Harry’s eyes. Except, for now.
Harry clenched his jaw and looked away. He didn't know why he was so bothered really. He said he didn't want the blond as his soulmate hadn't he? So, wasn't it for the best that they stayed away from each other?
His heart gave a strange twist at the thought and annoyed, Harry resolved to stop thinking about soulmates. He had made his decision, hadn’t he? So what if that meant that Malfoy would ignore him altogether? It was better for everyone if the blond git wasn't being a nuisance. He didn’t indulge Hermione in her quest to speak to him on their way up to the Common Room and ignored Ron’s concerned glances as he went up to quickly unpack his invisibility cloak. He thundered back down the stairs, avoided both of their concerned gazes and headed towards the library.
Trying to suppress how much being at the library the first night back made him feel like a cheap Hermione copy, he snuck in and began looking.
There were hundreds of books about soulmates. Harry didn’t understand how obtuse he could have been to not realise they were real. He scanned through the various titles, most of which sounded like the titles to a romance rather than anything educational until finally, a book caught his eye; A Guide to Become the Perfect Soulmate . Not thinking any deeper he grabbed it and quickly made his way back to Gryffindor Tower.
He settled into an abandoned corner of the Common Room, most of them busy unpacking their trunks but some groups clustered here, enjoying the last night before term truly began. No sooner had he opened the book, than Ron and Hermione settled beside him.
“Harry, did you steal that from the library!?” Hermione chastised.
“I’ll give it back okay, Hermione? I just- I need to know.” Harry implored.
He caught Ron shaking his head at her and she acquiesced, “Well, that is a good choice if anything, very informative.”
Giving the two of them a tight smile, Harry began reading.
A Guide to Become the Perfect Soulmate
Chapter 1: An Introduction to Soulmate Magic
The first recorded case of Soulmates goes back to the Ancient times of Merlin. It was in fact, the Great Merlin and the Legendary King Arthur themselves who are recorded to be the first known case of soulmate magic.
When the then Prince, turned thirteen years of age, he discovered the name ‘Merlin’ scrawled on his wrist. The significance of that name was not immediately realised, and when the King met Merlin later in life, there was animosity between them. However, as the story goes, Merlin and King Arthur went on to accomplish their greatest achievements together. Legend has it, that only once his beloved King began his eternal slumber, Merlin, the Greatest Wizard to have ever lived, realised the significance of the names they bore on their wrists. Magic itself had granted a gift to him, a gift of friendship, a gift of loyalty, a gift of love. A love so enduring that Merlin used it to ensure his lover lived on, waiting for the day his kingdom needed him once again. And in his infinite kindness, Merlin passed that blessing onto all wizard-kind.
Now, over 2000 years later. Soulmate marks and consequently soulmate magic is ingrained in wizarding physiology. Sometime during puberty, between the 13th and 17th birthday of the couple, a witch or wizard will have the name of their soulmate inked onto their wrists. Once it is properly acknowledged,
Once a soulmate bond is properly established, only death can break it.
Soulmates are considered sacred in all wizarding societies. A soulmate grants you a lifelong friend, an everlasting love and a loyal family. A soulmate compels you to grow and be better. To acknowledge your vices and turn them into virtues. To turn your weaknesses into your strengths. A soulmate is your other half, one soul split into two beings, united at last. It is said, that you have not known true contentment until you are with your soulmate.
It is considered a great taboo and is illegal in most wizarding societies to harm one’s soulmate. It is often punishable by death.
If properly nurtured a soulmate bond can be one of the most powerful manifestations of magic. It can heal wounds, lengthen lifetimes and according to the Legend of King Arthur and Merlin, triumph over death itself.
Harry sat in stunned silence as he finished reading the chapter.
It was hard to accept that. Accept all that a soulmate was. His soulmate would give him everything Harry had ever wanted. Unconditional love. Unbreakable loyalty. A family. And his soulmate was Draco Malfoy. He tried to reconcile how the cruel bully he was familiar with could give him all of that. Then his mind flashed back to Malfoy on the train, and how he had approached Harry. He had offered Harry his love and companionship and offered Harry’s friends an apology . Was it possible that the simple knowledge of Harry being his soulmate had convinced Draco Malfoy to reconsider his prejudices, to turn his vices into virtues ? How much did Malfoy truly value a soulmate for him to even consider an apology Harry wondered.
He thought back to the Slytherin’s pale teary-eyed face on the train. Was he hurt by what Harry had said? By his rejection?
Harry screwed his eyes shut in frustration. He wished he could ask his parents about this. No more than anything. Ask them if they thought he was losing something irreplaceable if he decided not to approach Malfoy. Did they value their bond like Merlin and King Arthur did? He thought of a green light and a woman screaming, a horror brought on by the dementors.
Surely they must have.
Would they be disappointed Harry was throwing away his soulmate before even giving him a real chance? Not even allowing anything to blossom between them? Not possibly steering Draco Malfoy to his side?
Harry hid his face in his hands with a frustrated groan.
Hermione reached over to gently rub his shoulders and Ron shuffled over to sit next to him. Nobody spoke for a long moment.
“Harry, you need to talk to Malfoy again,” Hermione said, a determined glint in her eyes.
“No, Hermione, I can’t, not after what I told him,” Harry shook his head stubbornly.
He stood up grabbed the book and made his way up to the dormitory before they could stop him. He didn't bother to unpack his trunk merely undressed and climbed into bed, ignoring the calls from Neville and Dean. He closed the curtains sound his bed and slid under the covers. He heard Ron come up and uttered something to assuage Seamus’s concern. He could see his best mate’s silhouette hovering next to his bed but made no move to reach out or to say something. His mind and heart felt heavy. He didn't know what to think. He didn't know what to do. It felt like the rest of his life could change if he decided to accept this. He wasn't sure if it would be for the better or for the worse though.
x.
Harry had been quiet and sullen throughout breakfast and the early morning. He barely had an appetite and abandoned his breakfast halfway through, sipping slowly at his pumpkin juice instead. He tried not to be bothered by the concerned looks Ron and Hermione shared over his head. He tried not to feel hurt when silver eyes still wouldn’t glance his way once no matter how long he spent staring at the Slythering table.
With a sigh, he headed off to class.
Hagrid’s first class as Professor had started well. He led them into the Forest, and after seeing Neville get attacked by the Monster Book and a taunt from Malfoy, finally revealed how they could open their books. Speaking of Mallfoy, the blond had continued to ignore Harry, choosing to level taunts about Hagrid at Hermione instead. Harry had felt s spike of anger at Hagrid’s competence being questioned and another at the fact that the blond was still ignoring him. Ron had pulled the both of them away, a frown twisting his features as he glanced back at Malfoy. They were introduced to Buckbeak, Harry somehow being roped into volunteering and he had taken a remarkable ride around the castle on her. As he landed back on solid ground, he felt immense pride in reassuring Hagrid of how brilliant of a teacher he was.
Of course, then it all went to shit.
Malfoy, who was seemingly insistent on terrorising Harry without looking him in the eye, sauntered up to Buckbeak, insulting her the whole while.
Harry barely registered Hagrid telling him to stop before Buckbeak reared up with a ferocious bellow and swiped down with her talons.
Malfoy crumbled to the ground, his shirt darkening with blood, rolling around due to the pain.
“It’s killed me! It’s killed me!” he cried.
His breath caught in his throat, the sight of Malfoy’s spilt blood was almost too much to handle for him. Harry watched in horror as Hermione shouted for him to be brought to eh hospital wing and Hagrid carried Malfoy away, the blond muttering pained threats the whole time. Harry couldn't help the way his breaths caught and his insides twisted. He felt as if he was the one suffering through pain, he could almost feel phantom blood seeping down his arm. He wrenched his eyes shut with a grimace trying to lessen the ache in his heart.
“You okay, mate?” he startled at Ron’s soft question and stared up at the taller boy who had a peculiar expression, halfway between a comforting smile and a grimace.
Harry debated if he should be honest or not, as Hermione came to flank his other side, her warm eyes equally concerned.
“Why do I feel like this?” He wasn't sure how to encapsulate the warring emotions he was feeling, “Like I’m the one Buckbeak injured?”
“Because you’re soulmates, Harry,” Hermione explained, her voice gentle and kind.
The three of them stayed back as the rest of the class started making their way out of the Forest, abuzz with the mauling they had just witnessed. Soon, the others had disappeared into the trees their voices fading.
Ron broke the silence with a frustrated groan, dragging his hands through his fiery hair and mussing it up. With a determined glint in his eye, he turned to Harry.
“You need to talk to him.” He commanded, mouth set into a firm line.
“What?” Harry blinked in surprise, out of everyone he didn't think it would be Ron encouraging him towards Malfoy.
“Harry, it's barely been a full bloody day! And you are miserable! And now that the git’s gotten himself hurt you'll be even more miserable!” Ron’s cheeks reddened as his rant intensified.
“What do you mean?” Hardy meanwhile was as clueless as ever.
Hermione butted in, “Harry there are consequences to rejecting a soul bond like you did, especially since the two of you already know each other. You have to talk to him properly and sort it out or it'll affect your mood, your health, hell even your magic!”
Harry stared at his two furious friends in shock. His magic was at risk?
“Soulmate magic is ancient magic, Harry, and everyone receives the name they do for a reason. It's rare to get it on your thirteenth birthday you know but rejecting it at first chance has terrible consequences,” Hermione continued, “It will affect him, and more importantly it will affect you .”
Harry blinked, “I don't understand. The two of you want me to pursue something with Malfoy ?”
He couldn't keep the incredulity out of his voice if he tried.
“Mate,” Ron began, “Do I wish it was someone else? Bloody hell do I! But he was the one chosen for you, and if I have to put up with him for you to be happy and healthy I will!”
Harry’s eyes watered at his impassioned speech, there was no doubt Malfoy was cruel to them both. But Ron’s problems with Malfoy were generational . For him to be willing to disregard that for him . How could Harry be so lucky to have them both?
“Besides,” Hermione piped up, a sly smirk on her face, “he did say he would apologize and we will certainly not make it easy for him to get our forgiveness.”
Hardy huffed out a genuine laugh, struck once again by the kindness of his friends. He looked between their encouraging faces. Even faced with the prospect of Harry’s potential relationship with Malfoy , they were still supportive of him. They only cared about his happiness.
He threw his arms around them both and pulled them into a hug, squeezing tight.
“Should I go talk to him then?” Harry asked as they made their way out of the Forest, “Right now?”
Now that the option was presented to him, Harry was eager to get going and have a proper conversation with Malfoy, his soulmate .
The other two shared an amused smile before Ron threw an arm around his shoulders and tugged him along.
“Not now! Honestly, Harry! He’s likely still with Madam Pompfrey, besides we have Transfiguration now! You can go visit him at the Hospital Wing after dinner!” Hermione declared before she too grabbed onto his other arm.
“Yeah, mate,” Ron joked with a grin, “Surely you can wait a couple of hours before abandoning us for Malfoy.”
Harry huffed with laughter as Hermione giggled. The two teased him as they continued to make their way up to the castle.
Tonight, Harry thought determinedly. He was going to go talk to Malfoy tonight.
