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At eleven, Hermione Granger thought soulmates sounded kind of icky, if in a vaguely romantic way. She was pleased to find out that even as a Muggle-born, there was a perfect soulmate for her in the wizarding world. There was so much she didn’t know about the wizarding world that she forever felt as if she was running to catch up to everyone else. And the idea that there were things she didn’t know, couldn’t know, that everyone else knew and they were purposely keeping her in the dark drove her somewhat batty. She knew it was a little insane to be thinking that way, but every time Ron dropped some little tidbit that he just expected her and Harry to know, he proved her theory.
So, when she had found out about soulmates her first week at Hogwarts, she was a little excited and a little grossed out. In her mind, eleven was much too young to be thinking about boys (or girls!) her mum’s voice added. Hence, the ickiness. But her overall pleasure at finding out that she too was included overrode any other feelings she had. She, along with the rest of her classmates, began eyeing each other they wouldn’t find out who their soulmate was for years yet.
There was a big ceremony at the beginning of seventh year that revealed soulmates. That is if your soulmate was of age. You weren’t guaranteed a soulmate you went to school with. There were some who had to wait years for their soulmates to show up. Hermione hoped that wasn’t her. She didn’t want to wait years to find the person she was meant to be with. She already had to, from now until she was seventeen.
By the time she was fifteen, Hermione’s thoughts on soulmates had changed some. Now she did find it terribly romantic. One true person out there for everyone else. She still hoped she wasn’t one who had to wait years, but she was starting to be a little concerned. Because it wasn’t the boys in their Quidditch kits that drew her eye. It was the girls who rolled their skirts up at the waistband and bought their shirts a size too small that she couldn’t keep her eyes from. It begged the question, would she be matched with a boy or a girl? (And how prescient of her mum to instill the idea that being gay wasn’t a big deal).
Hermione knew she had a limited view of the wizarding world, but she also knew she hadn’t seen any same-sex couples. That, too, worried her. If she was attracted to girls, then would her soulmate be a girl? Could soulmates be soulmates if one of them wasn’t attracted to the other? Or would she be paired up with a gay wizard? And if so, how awkward would that be?
It was now, that she was truly beginning to panic. And when Hermione Granger panicked, she did it in the library, while also researching everything she could possibly find about whatever it was she was panicking about. In this case, soulmates.
It turned out that soulmates were only a thing in the wizarding world because of a long-standing tradition, coupled with an ancient spell. There had been several severe population dips in the wizarding world over the centuries and the spell and tradition were invented to stave those off.
That summed it up. She was definitely going to get paired with a boy. To carry the next generation of wizards. Hermione didn’t even know if she wanted children and she felt vaguely ill at the notion of not only having to sleep with a boy but then carry his child.
When seventh year rolled around, Hermione was barely sleeping and eating. She’d lost so much weight that even Harry and Ron had noticed.
“Are you sick?” Ron asked on the Hogwarts Express. The soulmate ceremony always took place on the second night of the school year. Hermione knew there would be no eating or sleeping for her until the ceremony was over.
She shook her head. “Just nervous, I guess,” she muttered quietly.
Later, when Ron was in the toilet, Harry asked her if she had stopped eating on purpose. “Because you’re not fat, Hermione. Never were,” he insisted.
She laughed weakly. “More that I’m too nervous, too scared to eat,” she told him.
“The soulmate ceremony,” Harry said nodding. “I don’t know why you’re so scared of it, but it’ll work out, Hermione.”
She just snorted at that, shaking her head again. Of course, Harry would believe that. He was a straight male. He’d get paired with a girl and they’d go off and have lots of Ministry-approved babies. It looked more and more likely that she too would have lots of Ministry-approved babies, and that alone was the cause of half of her inability to eat.
She picked at the Welcoming Feast and was pleased they arrived at Hogwarts on a Saturday. That meant no classes to sit through before the soulmate ceremony, which was a relief. But it also meant filling up hours and hours of Sunday. Hermione decided to try and sleep as long as possible, and maybe distract herself with a few hands of Exploding Snap with the boys.
It sort of worked.
Her hands shook as she, Harry, Ron, and the rest of the seventh years remained in the Great Hall after dinner. The lower years were all hustled out, and a couple of Ministry employees arrived. There was some chatter among the seventh years before the ceremony itself began, but Hermione didn’t participate. She clenched her teeth together in order to keep nausea at bay. Harry gripped her forearm, trying to be reassuring, but it wasn’t really working for her.
Finally, after getting through the H’s the G’s began.
“Hermione Granger and Pansy Parkinson,” the bland Ministry official announced. Gasps were heard around the hall and Hermione brought her head up from her lap. The first thing she saw was Pansy Parkinson smirking at her from the Slytherin table. There was a dull roar as whispers and speculation sprang up among the student body. Hermione couldn’t take her eyes off Pansy, who had stood from the Slytherin table and began sauntering toward Hermione.
Soulmates were supposed to sit next to one another once they had been announced, so it wasn’t a surprise, but Hermione still felt too stunned to move. She had been so sure that the spell would have chosen a boy for her that she almost couldn’t believe her luck. Although, the fact that it was Pansy Parkinson chosen for her… she shook her head. She should try to be less prejudiced.
“Granger,” Pansy said as she slid into the seat that Harry had been occupying a moment before.
“Parkinson,” Hermione greeted.
“You look a little shocked,” Pansy smirked.
“I am, actually. I had convinced myself that since this started as a breeding program, that well… I’d be expected to breed,” Hermione replied.
Pansy laughed. “Perhaps, but the Parkinson name carries some weight and my father put a word about.”
Hermione’s eyes widened. So she wasn’t wrong after all. “How did you know to pick me?” Hermione asked.
Pansy tapped her nose. “I recognized the way you looked at other witches.”
Hermione felt herself redden and she looked away. Pansy reached out and grabbed her hands. “I recognized it, Granger, because I was looking at other witches too.”
“So are we or aren’t we soulmates?” Hermione asked, returning her gaze to Pansy. “Because it sounds like you picked me.”
Pansy sighed. “It’s complicated. The spell assumes everyone entered into it is straight unless otherwise indicated. But the Ministry doesn’t tell anyone that, the pure-bloods all know of course.”
“So some other poor Muggle-born has probably been matched with someone of the wrong gender,” Hermione replied angrily.
“Yeah, probably,” Pansy admitted.
“Typical,” Hermione snorted.
“Don’t be upset, Granger. Out of all the women entered into the spell that were marked as being gay, you were chosen for me. That’s about as close to soulmates as the spell can accommodate for us.”
“For us,” Hermione murmured thinking about ways the spell could be altered. “But I’m not going to let this stand for much longer.”
“Then you’ll need some clout at the Ministry, won’t you?” Pansy said with a smirk.
“Parkinson’s seem to have some influence there, I hear,” Hermione replied. Pansy squeezed her hands again and for the first time in months, Hermione felt hungry.
~Fin~