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Hermione didn’t believe in the concept of soulmates, at least not before she heard about it whilst thinking wizards belonged in King Arthur stories, and fantasy stories similar to it.
Being told about the concept, and that wizards and witches were the only people able to see these marks, the name of your soulmate in their handwriting, seemed fake to her until she got her own on her seventeenth birthday. She’d seen other people’s but seeing something that looked like a tattoo on her shoulder blade on her birthday made her realise how true it was. It didn’t even seem real when she saw it on other people.
But she refused to believe its truth when she saw what the name was. She kept it to herself for months, not wanting to tell anyone, not wanting to imply to her she wanted anything to do with her.
After she got her mark she spent weeks looking through books from the library that talked about it, finding some sort of explanation to it. But she never came across one outside of stories of fates. But no real answer.
Then Ron got his own. And he seemed to freak out over his own. So they came to a conclusion where they would pretend they were soulmates, or they would tell people at least. She loved Ron, she really did. And they could work as a couple, since their soulmates wouldn’t. The other was the only person who knew their soulmates really was, but everyone else could think they really were soulmates.
She still thought the concept was bullshit, she had control over her life. She would much rather make her own decisions in her life. Ron was a good choice, they worked well together. If anything, they made a lot more sense together than they did with their actual soulmates. She could choose her soulmate for herself.
The strange thing was almost everyone else seemed okay with being told who they should be with. As if they were okay with being told who they should be with. Harry was somehow completely okay with being with Malfoy!
Okay, not completely, it took him until he was nineteen for them to even get together. But just the fact he could accept it at all and be with him in this sort of way didn’t make sense to him. After everything he put him through, why would he listen to some fake fate putting his name on his skin?
People seemed to believe the lie that she and Ron were soulmates though. No one asked to see their mark, so they got away with it.
She was happy with Ron anyway, coming home to him was nice, kissing him was great. Falling asleep next to him was enough. They could so easily have a life together.
So they were together. Everyone could think they were really soulmates and they could avoid their real soulmates. Ron hadn’t seen his since forth year and she… well, she hadn’t see her’s properly since the end of her sixth, and a little at the Battle of Hogwarts.
She’d managed to avoid her because she really didn’t have any reason to see her, despite all the rumours that your soulmate would find your way to you.
Even if she did show up, it didn’t matter. She doubted she wanted anything to do with her either. Considering the family she came from especially.
They would never work it out because they didn’t have to. She could choose to be with Ron, no matter the name that was on her shoulder blade. She was happy it was the kind she couldn’t run into easily.
…
“Remind me why we have to come with you to the Malfoy’s ball?” Ron grumbled to Harry, tugging on the sleeves of his dressrobes.
“Because your my best friends?” Harry asked. Ron just scoffed at him. “It won’t be that bad, I just want some company so I won’t be bored to death.”
“Aren’t the Flint’s invited?” Hermione frowned, flicking a stray piece of Crookshanks’ fur from her dressrobes. “Can’t you just find salvation with Wood?”
“I could, but I liked options,” he said. “And Wood can probably only put up with me so much, he’d probably rather spend time with Flint anyway.”
“And why can’t you waste time with Malfoy?” Ron grunted.
“He has to greet guests,” he shrugged.
Hermione rolled her eyes. It was obvious he was only dragging them along because he didn’t want to go in alone. And she and Ron were loyal enough to go with him.
“There’ll be firewhiskey, right? Ron asked.
Harry nodded. “Now c’mon, Draco’s meeting us there.”
It was still weird hearing Harry call Malfoy by his first name.
Harry Disapparated to Malfoy Manor, leaving them alone for a moment.
“Your mark is covered, right?” Ron asked quickly.
She nodded and turned, pulling her hair to the side to show the dressed covered her shoulder-blades. “All hidden,” she said.
The didn’t need to double check Ron’s, his was on his chest perfectly concealed.
“Okay, good,” he smiled and they both Disapparated to Malfoy Manor. Harry was waiting for them with a smile on his face.
“Like I said, it won’t be that bad,” he told them.
She could only hope being a muggle born surrounded by purebloods.
She knew Harry wouldn’t drag her here if it was going to be really bad. All the most threatening people were in Azkaban now anyway.
Ron seemed as annoyed as she was though, scowling at the witches and wizards passing them.
Even still, they followed Harry inside the manor, seeing Malfoy pacing back and forth. A nervous Malfoy, a sight Hermione never thought she’d see.
In the corner of her eye, she could see how happy Harry looked to see him. That still baffled her, to see him happy to see him.
“Hey, you’re gonna dig a hole in the ground,” Harry called ahead of him. Malfoy saw them and looked relieved, probably happier to see Harry than anything.
“Merlin, my parents have been stressing me out,” he said and walked to them. “They always wants these balls to be perfect.”
She saw Harry’s eyes shift to them, and could tell they were avoiding physical affection in front of them. Hermione took the hint and turned to Ron. “Want to get some of that firewhiskey?” she asked.
He nodded, relief in his eye. They walked to the drinks and got a glass each. Hermione saw some people she recognised from school, mostly Slytherin students she never bothered to talk to.
That’s when the rush of panic went through her.
She whipped her head around to Ron. “Shit, what if she’s coming?”
Ron blinked, realisation rushing on his face.
How did neither of them think of this? The Malfoy’s knew her family, Slytherin’s seemed to all know each other. Her effort of avoiding her had gone wasted. But they couldn’t leave now, that wasn’t fair to Harry. Her only option was to stay latched to Ron and hope she took the hint if she saw her.
“Okay, don’t worry,” he assured her, squeezing her hand and pecking her cheek. “She’ll probably leave you alone.”
She could only hope she would.
They stayed mostly at the sidelines, Harry ended up being dragged around by Malfoy as he greeted guests. The Daily Prophet got news of it soon after Harry stopped hiding it – his seventeenth birthday did bring some questions but people were too focussed on the war thankfully – and the reaction wasn’t too positive. Most thought it was Ginny at first, they seemed like the dream couple. But Ginny’s was Luna’s, to quite a few peoples’ dismay. She was mildly surprised too, she was sure his other half was going to be Ginny.
He did seem happy with Malfoy though, despite everything. Like how Ginny was happy with Luna. Even though the situations were so different. Ginny and Luna made sense but she couldn’t understand Malfoy and Harry. How did their history even allow that? How could they even get to the point where they held hands and shared looks on adoration.
Her stomach went into knots. Could that happen with her soulmate? Could they actually be perfect together.
When she’d read about it and about other peoples experiences, the feeling of your soul feeling at home, that kissing them would feel like your entire being was wrapped around them. Like you were at home.
She still didn’t believe that. No person even should make you feel like that. Being tied to someone felt strange. Even with those horror stories where the universe decided to take control and push people together had any truth, why was Ron a lesser choice?
The night went on, and she didn’t see her come in. It had gotten pretty crowded though, so if she was here she hoped she could be hidden in the crowd. It was a little awkward being sidelined like this, having knowing no one. They’d caught sight of Wood a few times but neither of them really knew him, and weren’t even sure if he knew who they were. Ron could say he was Ginnys brother but neither of them really wanted to socialise. Not even in shared dread of being dragged here by someone else.
She had fun spending time with Ron, she always did. They laughed and talked about their time at work, Hermione talking about some random memories from her seventh year at Hogwarts. Ron smiled in endearment when she spoke about the amount of O’s she had earned.
Is was nice because it was Ron, he made so much more sense as a romantic partner than her soulmate ever did.
She had to eventually go to the bathroom, so she left for a moment with a peck on Ron’s cheek.
The bathroom open to guests was pretty spacious, candles lit and fill the room with a vanilla scent. She had the smell of vanilla, so she did her best to ignore it.
While she was washing her hands, she heard the sound of a click, like the door was being unlocked. She blinked as she dried her hands with a towel.
“Uh, I’m just finishing,” she said, her voice catching in her throat a little. It was odd someone would decide to unlock the door like that.
The door opened and a figure that was wrapped in a tight black dress and dark red lipstick with the desire of nothing but trouble walked in.
Pansy Parkinson.
She paled and looked back at the mirror, tossing the towel down.
“I, uh, was just leaving–” she began but she was cut of by the sound of Pansy’s heels hitting the floor. She walked up behind her and place her hands on the counter, trapping her in her place.
“Well, if it isn’t little Granger,” she muttered into her ear. “Dragged here by ole Potter, I’m expecting.”
She flushed as she swallowed the lump in her throat as she felt her soulmates breath against her skin. They weren’t even touching but she already had such an affect on her, how was that even possible.
“Yeah,” she was able to squeak out.
“I see you’re here with Weasley,” she said, amusement in her voice. “Now, I heard rumours that you two were soulmates,” she said with a snort.
She looked down at the counter so she didn’t have to see her face in the mirror. She saw her hands, seeing the nails were trimmed but still painted black.
“Why would you lie about something like that? I wouldn’t take you for a liar.”
Because she wasn’t unless she absolutely had to. The lie about her soulmate was one that felt necessary, as if she could run from it. But this was sheer proof it would catch up with her, that she had no control over this situation. There was already this intense feeling of longing by being so close, something that was never there with Ron. She loved Ron and was attracted to him, but none of their time together had amounted to this moment. And when her hand touched her hip, the feeling was more intense than anything she had experienced with him.
“Am I just not good enough for you?” she teased, lips almost touching her ear again.
She glanced back up at the mirror, seeing the sight of Pansy pressed against her. It was a sight she never thought she would see, a situation she never thought she would be in. But the feeling of longing, the feeling of want and need were overtaking her.
She finally got the courage to speak. “I doubt you wanted me to any degree,” she whispered.
Pansy smiled and her other hand cupped her cheek, stroking her jawline. “Hm, maybe you’re right, or maybe you’re wrong. Who really knows, right?”
She felt her lip brush against the back of her neck, a spot her hair could perfectly conceal. Her stomach went into knots and she realised how much more she wanted. How much she needed this. She understood every page of every book of the intricate topic of soulmates she was able to read in the Hogwarts school library, of any book she could find in Flourish and Blotts. All of it, the intense feelings, the rush, the intensity heightened by the time they had left between it. Even though it was only a few years.
“Do you like this, Granger,” Pansy asked against her skin.
She swallowed, her body was proof enough of how much she was enjoying it. But, like she was under Veritaserum, she answered. “Yes,” she mumbled.
Pasny seemed pleased by her answer. Enough so that she stepped away from her. She hated that she immediately missed her touched. Hated that she wanted to touch her skin, like she needed to.
“I would absolutely love to ravish you any time you want,” she said and ran her finger on the fabric where her tail bone was. “Just not in my friend’s home, and definitely not while you’re still pretending Weasley and you have anything like this, or what he would with his soulmate. Feel free to owl me when you want anything.”
And she left, closing the door behind her and Hermione feeling even more lost.
…
Hermione didn’t tell Ron about what happened with Pansy. Instead, they got home and she dragged I’m to their bedroom, trying to not trip over Crookshanks when they stumbled into the room. They were both a little buzzed from the firewhiskey, and her a little frustrated from the interaction with Pansy.
She tried her hardest to not look at Ron’s chest, to not see the mark of his soulmate. She hated looking at that, she wished his and her own would just wash away. For the troubles of the mark to go away.
Pansy Parkinson wasn’t a trouble in her life she needed. She wasn’t someone to play games with, or someone to invite into her life. She was a mix of a vicious personality and bad decisions. She was gossip with no remorse. She wasn’t something that if you cut the sharp edges away you would find something soft. She was sharp and nasty. Despite that rush she felt that night.
How could they have ever been chosen to be together was beyond her.
She was able to forget about Pansy mostly for the rest of the night at least.
…
Things turned into a routine. Ron on his Auror jobs, Hermione working at the Ministry during the week. Spend the weekends with friends, go to Ginny’s games when she had them, simple as that.
It was a normal life, not the excitement she had during her teenage years, or the danger that came with it. She kind of hated Harry and Ron for becoming Aurors after that. Why would they put themselves in more danger after all those years of it being a constant threat?
She liked her desk job though. She’d moved up to being what the muggle equivalent would probably be an attorney. She stuck with petty crimes, not comfortable with the idea of having to defend potential murders.
It was a role she could handle. Until one day that she should’ve expected to come in some form after all the books she’d read.
Pansy fucking Parkinson walked in, hair in a neat bob and makeup perfect, her heels making her seem so tall and her legs look longer.
She was standing with Cassandra, her boss. Pansy had a certain smug look on her face as she watched her.
“Miss Granger,” Cassandra spoke. “This is Miss Parkinson,” she gestured to her. “She’ll be working as your secretary.”
Oh great, absolutely perfect. That was what she needed. To be around her soulmate every day.
How was she going to get any work done was a great question.
She just nodded. She’d needed a secretary for some time, and here she was. Ready to make her life harder.
“Thank you, Cassandra,” she said. “I’ll show her the basics.”
Cassandra nodded and left the two.
Pansy stepped into the office, glancing around. Her heels were making a click-clack noise and it was almost unbearable.
Pansy sat on her desk and smirked at her. “So, miss Granger,” she said teasingly. “What do I need to do first?”
She almost snapped at her for calling her ‘miss Granger’ but that was what she was meant to call her so she stopped herself. “I need you to get some filing done,” she said and picked up the pile of folders next to her, tapping the edges on the table she was sitting at. “Alphabetical, in that cabinet.”
Pansy smirked and took the files and walked to the cabinet, swinging her hips in a subtle but intentional way.
Not that Hermione was looking.
She taught Pansy the basics, and her general role. Filing and answering letters was most of it. She wasn’t in her hair as much as she thought she would be. Hermione could handle that.
She didn’t tell Ron though. He’d get needlessly worried and anxious like he did.
She almost felt guilty about not feeling any guilt for that.
…
Pansy understood things rather quickly and was working pretty well. She seemed to have decided to just leave the soulmate thing. Or hopefully at least. She hadn’t tried to goad her about it, or even pressure her into anything or leaving Ron.
But she kept thinking about the night at the Malfoy’s and how she had made her feel. How a piece of her now wished she had span around and pulled her to her lips, the only thing holding her back was her own rational. She’d never been able to let her mind take control of her body and that was a time where she shouldn’t.
The main problem was that standing next to each other was unbearable. There was a pull between them, and all her mind could focus on was how much she wanted to touch her. It made coming to work dreadful rather than how enjoyable she found it.
She couldn’t be with her, it was as simple as that.
Summer came, and Hermione switched to short sleeves. She didn’t love wearing them as it showed off her forearms, but it was too hot to not wear at least a blouse. The one she was wearing did have short sleeves, and all she could do was self consciously hide it.
It was difficult around Pansy. At Malfoy’s party her dress had long sleeves, perfectly hiding the scars. But if she got close enough – and with how much she felt when she got close she avoided to – she’d be able to see them.
She focussed on working, trying to figure out a mess of a case that had to do with illegal trade. She’d been on the case for weeks and still had no idea how she was going to win it.
She heard the sound of heels and didn’t need to look up to see Pansy walking in. She kept her focus on the papers in front of her, and Pansy set a mug in front of her.
“Got you some coffee,” she said and she looked up at her. She was holding her own mug, and she could see the lipstick mark on it.
She smiled at her. “Thanks,” she said and took a sip.
That was when Pansy’s eyes dropped to her arm. Her gaped a little at her, like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
Her scar.
Her first reaction was to hide it under the table, suddenly very aware of her scar after letting her guard drop when focussing on her work.
Pansy was still staring at where her arm had been, biting into her lip.
Hermione swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. She pushed a stray hair behind her ear and picked her quill back up, going back to working.
She saw the mark of the slur on her arm, there was nothing else to say.
But Pansy wasn’t wasn’t the type to not talk.
“Fuck, what the– how’d you get that?”
She bit her lip, and she rubbed her hand over the scar.
“Bellatrix,” she said.
She looked horrified, still gaping at her.
“I’m, fuck, I never thought they would ever do anything like that. I mean, she’s horrible but that’s just–”
“Pansy,” she stopped her, putting her hand up to haunt her. “It’s fine, I mean, I’m never going to be over it but it is what it is, nothing can be done about it.”
She swallowed. “Still, I’m so horrified. I… I can’t believe something like this would happen and, I’m so sorry.”
She could see tears prickling her eyes. The scar was pretty noticeable and still looked pretty bad, even though it didn’t hurt anymore.
“It’s not as bad as looks, seriously,” she assured. “Really the worst of it is over.”
Pansy still looked concerned but she nodded. “Okay, I just hate the thought you always have to look at it.”
She bit her lip. It still stung to look at it, but she always looked at the scar as proof of her survival and strength.
Before she could tell Pansy that, she walked back to her down desk.
…
Pansy made a habit to always bring her coffee throughout the day. Her parents had always told her coffee was bad for her teeth but she had stopped caring.
She had also let her guard down with Pansy. Maybe she should have some guard up so she wouldn’t lose herself in the intense draw she had to her. She wanted to touch her so bad but she knew she couldn’t let herself.
She really realised that, and how unfair the situation was, when Ron walked into her office unexpected.
Pansy was behind her own desk, far enough away from her, but she seemed to jump too. Ron looked at Pansy, then at her, looking bath and forth between them.
“Hermione–” he began but she cut him off.
“Close the door, Ron,” she said quickly, standing up so quickly her coffee had almost spilt.
Ron closed the door hastily and stared at her. Silence cloaked the room, and Hermione wished she could explain everything.
“I’m her secretary,” Pansy spoke, making both herself and Ron jump before turning to look at her.
She was standing up and her body was stiff. “I’m not here to claim her as mine, don’t worry,” she continued.
Ron blinked at her, looking at her stiffly.
“Okay,” he said and turned back to her. “This is fine, it’s fine.”
No, it wasn’t fine. Ron, the man she was pretending was her soulmate, who she was turning into her own destiny, was standing next to the woman she wanted to pull into her arms more and more each and every day.
Even with both of them standing in front of her, she still wanted Pansy.
“No,” Pansy shook her head. “Fuck, I should’ve waited for another opening, but this was offered to me.”
They all knew why it happened. Fate was deciding what was best for them.
Ron looked back at her and his shoulders slumped. “Fuck, what are we even doing?” he asked.
“Ron–”
“I keep seeing her name on you, ‘Mione,” he said and looked back at Pansy. “But seeing her here,” he looked like he wanted to kick something but nothing was around so he stomped his toe in the floor instead. “Merlin, just fucking Merlin, if she’s gonna be here what even is the point of running constantly? My parents always said, running from this was like running in a circle. You’ll always run back to them, even if it takes a while.”
Tears prickled in her eyes. “Then why did you fucking agree to this, Ron?”
“Because I care about you so damn much,” he said. “And I want to face my own damn soulmate as much as you do, or did I guess,” he said, and glanced back at Pansy. She shifted a little and looked down.
The use of past tense made her flinch.
He was right, if she really wanted to avoid her she would’ve asked, no demanded, for a new secretary. But she kept her around anyway.
“Fucking hell, Ron,” she started to cry. “So you’re suddenly saying we should just quit this? And what? You’re gonna go running to your soulmate?”
He stiffened and shuffled. “Well, mine hasn’t shown up, has he?”
No, he hadn’t. But he was clearly implying they will. Just like if she ran away from Pansy again she’d only end up running into her again.
She looked at Pansy, who was staring at her.
She wanted Pansy, and Pansy implied on the night at the Malfoy’s she wanted her.
“God, everyone will be pissed at us for lying,” she muttered.
Ron laughed. “Yeah.”
A snort came from Pansy and they both glanced at her. “You two need to get better at lying,” she said.
She smiled. She couldn’t help it. And she also really wanted to kiss her, so badly.
“Well, I was meant to meet with Harry,” he coughed. “I’ll see you at home, alright?”
She nodded. “We can tell Harry first, okay?”
He nodded. “Might as well get it over with, I can bring him over tonight. I’m not doing this on my own.”
She laughed and nodded. They hugged quickly before he left. He closed the door behind him and that made her look at Pansy.
Pansy licked her lip, but gave her a small smile.
The barrier between them was gone. She and Ron were officially broken up and it felt like a weight was taken off of her shoulders.
She let her body take her to Pansy, let the need and the want take control of her as she walked to her.
Pansy reached a hand out to her and placed her hands on her hips, drawing her closer to her. They smiled at each other and Hermione drew her to her lips in a gentle kiss.
Yeah, she understood the feeling of souls wrapping together.
…
“You’re not soulmates?”
Harry gaped at them, looking between them.
Hermione and Ron were sat on their couch, a significant amount of space between them while Harry was sat in an armchair.
Dropping this on him, and eventually everyone else, was going to be difficult.
“We’re not,” Hermione nodded.
“Why the hell would you lie about that?” They both shrugged.
“We both didn’t necessarily think our soulmates were right for us,” Ron said. “So we just kind of agreed it was a good idea.”
“Obviously it was terrible,” Hermione added. “We know that now. We were still, you know, a couple and all. Just not soulmates,” she sighed and her shoulders slumped. We just realised there was no more use running.”
Harry hesitated before asking. “So, who are your soulmates then?”
Hermione shuffled in her spot. She and Pansy were going to be really together after all.
“Pansy Parkinson,” she said.
He gaped at her. “What the fuck? How is your’s Pansy?”
“How is your’s Malfoy?” she muttered.
“Hermione, be serious, it’s seriously Pansy?”
She huffed. “Why do you think I avoided it for years?”
A silence fell. They both had a similar situation. They both had the kind of person they would’ve never seen themselves with, a Slytherin who they automatically hated by being Gryffindors. The only other time she remembered that happening was Wood and Flint. But they dated while they were still at Hogwarts, unlike her and Harry had.
She had still wondered how they could, with everything that came with their roles. Especially as quidditch captains.
“Mine’s Krum.”
Hermione looked at Ron and Harry did too. Ron was staring at his lap, shoulders hunched.
“I still don’t know how to really handle that,” he said. “I mean, he would’ve had his when we met but I was fucking fourteen and then he took Hermione to the Yule Ball, and it was just a nightmare.”
She thought about her date with Krum. Krum’s date was entirely platonic, he’d told her he was gay and that he wanted to take her to make her happy and that there were no guys to go with. Some might’ve seen it as a pity date but to everyone else it was a miracle he’d go with her.
“He didn’t say he thought you were it,” she said. “I mean, maybe he wanted you to have your’s first or something.”
“Well I haven’t seen the man in years, what am I meant to do?”
Hermione looked at Harry who was silent. Neither had any advice to offer because it wasn’t a situation with an easy answer. Even if Ron reached out, Krum still lived in a different country, maybe he’d even forgotten his existence.
“I’m sorry, Ron,” Harry said. “I wish I could help.”
“Me too,” Hermione added.
Ron sighed and fell back onto the couch. “If the mark has done anything it’s make sense of my feelings towards him,” he said. “Fred and George would tease me and say I was in love and shit.”
It was probably a teasing goad. It was at a time before Ron knew he was bisexual, just like Hermione hadn’t known she was pansexual. They’d both confided in each other about it before they got their marks, as did Harry with his own bisexuality confession. It halted any of the same gender soulmate surprises at least.
But it wasn’t fun seeing Ron down like this.
Just like explaining to everyone they weren’t soulmates and who her real one was won’t be any fun.