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Draco was only thirteen when he had the first one.
The absolute panic that flooded his chest as he convinced himself that no one would stay with him forever came out in shakes and tremors.
Teary eyed, gasping for breath, his eyes sought the calm ones of his mother.
She stroked his upper arm lovingly, coming to a stop at the ink on his wrist.
“There’s someone out there waiting for you,” she told him.
“Someone who is destined to love you forever and ever and even a little beyond that.”
He knew she hadn't had that privilege.
But she still believed.
He struggled with the notion, but his broken heart latched on to the thought.
There, in emerald green the colour of the crystal forest that he couldn’t imagine was more expansive than his soulmate’s eyes, were words inked on his skin.
“I see you’re early for the audition too.”
“Do you really have to be 10 minutes early to every audition? You know the casting director probably doesn’t even care right?”
Pansy trudged behind him as he eagerly leapt towards the door, having heard this exact same complaint a million different times.
“I swear, if you wake me up this early to suck up to the director one more time, I will kill you in your sleep.”
He smirked at her good natured threat. Nothing new, really.
“This isn’t even about the audition is it? You just want to be super early because your soulmate is waiting.”
That one took him by surprise.
The unspoken reason was always there, but hearing it out loud brough the blood rushing to his cheeks.
He tried to laugh it off.
“Whatever gave you that idea? I’m just early so I can get into the director’s good books.”
“You need to just let it happen, Draco. It’s been 5 years of hope and rejection.”
“I know.”
“Sure.”
And with an eye roll and a shake of her head, Pansy seemed to drop the subject, at least for the time being.
The theatre assistant greeted them with a tired smile, nodding them towards the waiting room.
At first glance, it looked quite empty, until he found a dark haired boy with his nose buried in a book.
He looked for a perfunctory glance, before realising who they were and looking closer, almost as if sizing them up.
As they made eye contact, Draco felt himself getting lost in eyes so bright that the room seemed dark in comparison.
And although he didn’t dare to hope, they were a bright shade of green he was oh so familiar with, having spent hours staring at it on his arm.
Black, carefully careless hair caught the sun and god, were those his legs? How was he so fit?
And then he gave him a charming grin and Draco felt the ground beneath him shift a little.
Nothing could have prepared him for what happened next though.
His grin still etched on his face like a renaissance sculpture, he huffed out a laugh made of cotton candy and starlight.
“I see you’re early for the audition too.”
If Draco hadn’t already fallen for the boy in front of him, he was definitely sprawled on the ground now.
Even if his gorgeous lips hadn’t uttered those perfect words, he couldn’t help but feel that he would have fallen nonetheless.
It was inevitable.
He had a powerful gravity, and Draco was being sucked in,and god he had never been happier to fall.
Emerald eyes, midnight hair, he hadn’t dared to dream about what his soulmate could look like, but his imagination couldn’t have even come close.
He felt lost in the whirlpool that was the man in front of him, and yet, for the first time in his life, he felt like he had found an anchor.
“I found you”
He stutters out, the only thought in his head tumbling out through his lips.
His head screams with thoughts of it'shimit'shimit'shimit'shimit'shimit'shim and it takes all of his willpower to concentrate enough to hear the boy’s- his soulmate’s- next words.
“Oh. Oh no.”
His lips are pressed together, a certain disdain and weariness in those emerald eyes.
Like a splash of cold water, he registers the connotation in those three words.
He’d expected some very different words, maybe one’s rhyming with “tie dove new”.
Maybe not immediately, but eventually.
Rendered speechless, he lets the handsome stranger lead him away.
“I should probably introduce myself first, I’m Harry.”
Harry. It was perfect, just like him.
It sounded like the first blossom of spring.
It sounded like the first blanket of snow.
It sounded like the first ray of sunlight.
It sounded like the first twinkle of stars just waking.
It sounded like the first word in his mouth that felt like it belonged.
There was so much he wanted to say ranging from you’re perfect, to you don’t know how long I’ve been looking for you, but instead he takes one look at his guarded eyes and stammers out.
“D-Draco.”
“Yes, Draco. I really hope you’re not one of those hopeless romantics, because frankly, I don’t really believe in soulmates and would rather not buy into it.”
It took a second for the true meaning to hit.
And suddenly Draco couldn’t breathe.
He thought back to thirteen, when his mother had said his soulmate would stay with him forever and a little more after that.
He thought back to the first time he trusted that someone would stay.
He thought back to the five years he had spent in hesitant anticipation, in careful hope.
He thought back to the unparalleled wave of love that had assaulted him before Harry had even opened his mouth.
He thought about how he’d rather die than have someone not choose to be with him.
He thought about how being around Harry would guarantee the slow chipping away of his soul, but being away from him would be like ripping his heart out.
“I-Yeah, of course. I umm-, I respect that.”
“Really? We could still get to know each other, you seem like a nice guy.”
“Yeah, of course. Just give me a minute to use the washroom and I’ll meet you in the audition?”
He didn’t even wait for an answer, moving away as fast as he could, unwilling to show Harry the effect his words had had.
As he stumbled into the farthest stall, he vaguely registered the black spots dancing in front of his eyes and the weight on his chest.
A panic attack. He hadn’t had one of those in years
It took a while, but finally he could breathe without gasping, and he stopped shaking.
He looked at the man in the mirror.
He was an actor after all.
He’d get through this.
And anyways, what were the chances they’d ever see each other again?
Very high, turns out.
Through some stroke of luck, or maybe just the adrenaline high he’d been riding since Harry, he got the role.
And so did Harry.
Of course he did.
Who wouldn’t want him on the stage?
So they were stuck with each other.
Harry was giving him that soft look, the one that simultaneously seemed to wound and heal him.
“Look, your soulmate could still be out there, y’know? Our words were pretty generic.”
“Right.”
“You’re obviously the romantic type, so you should keep looking for someone more compatible than well, me.”
He says gesturing to himself.
The only problem was, Draco couldn’t imagine anyone more compatible with him than Harry.
They fit like two halves to a whole.
They fit like two puzzle pieces.
They fit like they were meant to be.
“Maybe,” he agrees weakly, for lack of something better to say.
Draco doesn’t usually cry. He prefers expelling his emotions in other methods, like the gym.
But as Pansy’s arms slip around him, he finds traitorous tears soaking her shoulder, and the little chocolate brown I need you to be my girlfriend flashes from her arm.
“Maybe it’s not him. We’ll go to every audition 15 minutes early if we have to.”
He knows that the soulmate system has its flaws.
He knows that there are occasions of soulmates not working out.
He knows that there are incidences of people spending their lives with someone not their soulmate.
He knows.
He does.
He’d have liked to try.
He thinks the universe is playing some sort of cosmic joke when he finds out they got bunked together for theatre camp.
He steels himself for the rejection, the transfer, the hurt.
But it never comes.
So he steels himself for the pain of being able to touch but not feel, hear but not understand,
be close but not together.
He wasn’t his soulmate right?
Draco could be professional.
He would get through this.
Just like a magnet trying to escape from its field or a satellite trying to escape from orbit.
He would escape Harry’s gravity.
As they start rehearsing for their annual interactive feature, he can’t help but laugh at his fate that he and Harry got partnered in the Soulmate speaks live portion.
Speaking about and answering questions about soulmates.
With his non-soulmate.
No big deal.
One of the planned shoots is Hermione’s, Harry’s friend.
She is one of those ones that have a unique tattoo but still can’t find their soulmate.
Oh wow, please don’t tell me you make a habit of this in dark colours.
He finds himself smiling a little too wide during that segment.
To no one’s surprise, Harry and Draco work fabulously together.
They have a chemistry that is unparalleled.
Some might even say, they complete each other.
Draco doesn’t say that, although he wants to.
The first night they spent together, in the same room, could not have gone worse.
Chilly stares, tight lips, minutes spent staring longingly at the bed across from him.
Wondering what it would feel like to be asleep in those arms.
To be surrounded by that uniquely Harry smell.
Finally, the next morning, he decides to have a civilised conversation.
Draco could be professional.
“Hey, so umm, we’re good right?”
“Huh?”
“I mean, we do have to stay together for the foreseeable future, so we shouldn’t be at odds, because that could affect our performance and then we’d lose our roles and I really don’t want you to feel frustrated about having to put up with me, and I’m really sorry, but I promise I won’t bring up the s-word if it makes you uncomfortable-”
“Whoa slow down, we’re good, okay? You seem like a good friend, so I’m willing to overlook our, umm, history.”
“Okay, uh okay.”
“We’re probably not soulmates anyway.”
An odd vulnerability seems to ghost across his voice.
“We don't have to be soulmates, but maybe we could be friends?”
“Yeah, yeah.”
That night, Harry strikes up a conversation.
“I should apologise for earlier, I just had a lot on my mind and was acting kind of-”
“-Like an arsehole?”
It slips out, and he can feel the laughter echo across the walls.
“Yup, you could say that.”
He says with a laugh in his voice.
“Sorry, I was kinda forward when we first met too.”
“You were the right amount of forward for someone meeting their soulmate for the first time.”
“Not soulmates, remember?”
He keeps his voice light, but a foreign emotion sneaks in anyway.
And even in the darkness, he can feel bright green eyes turn to him, eyes he knew better than his own.
They pulled him towards them.
He turned away.
They kept up the tradition of chatting before going to bed.
It helped both of them sleep better.
It was during one of those late night conversations, after a particularly emotional day, that the question slipped out.
“Why don’t you believe in soulmates?”
The silence seemed to stretch forever.
He almost gave up, almost closed his eyes, when the soft voice spoke up.
“My parents were soulmates. My dad still left her for another. She could never move on. Can you really say they were made for each other?”
“Oh. I’m so sorry.”
“Hmmm.”
Draco vows to never make sure he never has to sit through that melancholic heaviness in the air between them again.
A couple of weeks later, they decide to go outside of the camp to hang out.
He’s sitting beside Harry, with Pansy opposite him.
They’re actually making progress, now that he’s finally convinced Pansy she doesn’t have to stab Harry, when there is a sudden interruption.
“I need you to be my girlfriend.”
Pansy looks up into chocolate brown eyes she’s fallen in love with before she even opens her mouth.
She stands up and says with a laugh in her voice, and what sounds like adoration peeking through.
“Please don’t tell me you make a habit of this.”
“Oh. Oh.”
When she sees the smile in those eyes, Pansy finds the courage to complete her sentence.
“Because yes, I will. Forever.”
“I’d like that.”
That night, Draco cries again, but this time he hides from Pansy.
In the two weeks that follow, she drags him to 12 auditions.
No one comments, even though they are 15 minutes early each time.
Then, he walks in to number 13.
“Oh! I see you’re early to the audition too!”
“I found you.”
And if Blaise’s words are slightly different, no one makes a comment.
If the colour of their tattoos don’t quite match, they don’t point it out.
If holding his hand feels nothing like holding Harry’s, he doesn't mention it.
If he feels like he’s forcing the spark, they don’t ponder about it.
Until, Blaise finds Ronald at audition number 17.
They’d gone on dates.
But they’d never felt like he’d imagined it.
They’d even kissed.
But he’d never felt like he was complete.
They’d been soulmates.
But he’d never believed it.
Never pointed it out
Harry does, however.
He seems hell-bent on pointing out all the ways the relationship was wrong after Blaise finds Ron.
Draco resists the urge to point out those are things that would be right with him.
He resists the urge to cry over Harry again.
That very day, he makes a decision.
“Hey Professor McGonangall! I umm, had a question.”
The older woman cocks her head in confusion.
“Of course, Draco, ask away.”
“Is it too late to request a room transfer?”
“A room transfer? All okay?”
“Yeah, umm, yeah.”
“If you find someone willing to swap, sure.”
“Okay, thank you.”
“Are you sure this can’t be solved by just talking to each other?”
He says to himself, how do we talk about the fact that one of us is in love with the other, who has written it off as fate’s mistake?
Outwardly, he just nods and makes to leave.
Until he lifts heavy eyes from the floor directly to emerald green ones.
“So, when were you going to tell me? Before or after you found someone willing to swap?”
His voice is quiet, but every word rings almost deafeningly in the space between them. Draco shrinks back, cheeks hot with shame.
"I'm sorry," he whispers.
Harry scoffs under his breath in disbelief.
"So you're not even going to tell me why?"
Draco fumbles for the words as best as he can in his flustered state.
Harry watches him flounder, green eyes glinting with hurt.
"Was it something I did?"
"No," Draco says immediately. "It was me."
He sees Harry’s eyebrows push together as he tries to understand. "Is it...because of Blaise?"
"What? No," Draco says, confused. "Why would it be because of Blaise?"
"I don't know. You tell me. I thought maybe I came between you both."
"Why would you..." Draco shakes his head.
"It's not him. Well. It kind of is?"
Harry waits, an eyebrow raised.
Draco exhales slowly. "Blaise and I didn't work out," he mumbles. "We're not soulmates."
Harry is quiet for a while.
"I'm sorry, I didn’t put that together-” he says finally.
“-I know how much you wanted to meet your soulmate. I thought it was another failure of the system. But what does that— “
Draco flinches again as his voice regains its hard edge.
“—have to do with you not wanting to stay with me anymore?"
"Isn't it obvious?-” Draco says, with a resigned laugh.
“-I have feelings for you."
He watches as Harry's eyes snap up to meet his.
"I still don't understand how that warrants you not wanting to stay with me."
"Don't play dumb," Draco says wearily, "Please. We're soulmates. Aren't we? And you don't want anything to do with your soulmate, you've made that clear."
A pregnant silence hangs between them. Harry stares at Draco, long and hard, jaw tense.
"You said you just wanted to be friends."
"I'm sorry-” Draco whispers.
“-I don't think I ever could."
That night he stumbles numbly through Pansy’s door.
“What did he do this time?”
“He- wait, how do you know who I’m talking about?”
“Harry. The only other times I’ve seen you cry have been over him.”
“I could be crying over Blaise.”
“He could never be your soulmate, Draco. You’ve already given your soul to Harry.”
The mattress sinks a little at the edge as Hermione brings him some coffee.
“Do you want me to talk to him?”
“No.” Draco says quickly.
He doesn’t even know what Hermione could say to make the situation better, even though she is Harry’s best friend.
“He’s been honest with me from the start. I was the one who messed it all up.”
“Don’t say that. I think you’re good for each other, even if he doesn’t believe it.”
“Really?”
“I’ve never seen him click so fast with someone. Trust me Draco, there’s something there.”
And although every part of him screamed at him to stop believing, screamed at him that it was believing that got him into this mess in the first, he believed them.
He thinks about calling in sick the next day.
Then he thinks about all the support staff, all the people that will lose a day of their lives because he couldn’t just control his feelings for someone who clearly didn’t want him.
He’d thought their first night on set had been awkward.
It was nothing compared to the suffocating tension in the air that night.
The worst part is, the tension doesn’t lift this time.
4 days, 3 hours and 27 minutes after that fateful conversation, Harry calls for him as he makes for his bed.
“Draco, I don’t like this. Us not talking.”
“Y-yeah, me too.”
"I'm sorry that I stormed off after you...said that,” Harry mutters.
“I was just mad that you said it after I said all that stuff about not wanting a soulmate."
"I know, I'm sorry—"
Draco begins, flustered, but Harry holds up a hand to cut him off.
"Let me finish?"
He says, lips quirking in a half-smile, and Draco falls quiet.
"I was talking to Hermione, and she helped me realise it's not exactly something I can fault you for," Harry says, and Draco feels the beginnings of hope tug at his chest.
Sweet, beautiful, wonderful Hermione.
"And you only said it because I caught you trying to swap partners, which was because you were trying to put some distance between us," Harry continues.
"You've been so damn noble this entire time, even though I know you've wanted to be with your soulmate your whole life. I really have no reason to be mad. You should be mad for having a soulmate like me.”
“I could never be.” He says, feeling just a tad bit breathless.
“Someone like you deserves a soulmate much better than someone like me.”
“Don’t say that. You’re you. And I wouldn’t trade that for the world.”
“Even if I don’t want you back?”
“I’m just glad to have met you.”
“Please don’t swap? I don’t think I could sleep without knowing you’re there.”
“Of course.”
They fall back into their familiar rhythm except now Harry is touching him more and every touch feels like fire and god why won’t his heart stop stuttering at every touch?
He repeats the silent mantra to himself. But Harry is making this way too difficult.
One time, during a hug after a particularly emotional conversation, he rests his chin on Harry’s head and whispers,
“Thank you for giving me a second chance Potter. I’ll get over you in time.”
His head whips up, uncertainty and a foreign emotion he’s convinced he’d imagined darting across his face before he carefully arranges his features into a smile.
“I’m glad we could be friends again.”
Friends.
The words hurt his soul, but he shuts out the screams.
The words hurt his heart, but he stops the thundering.
The words hurt his lungs, but he keeps taking futile breaths.
The words hurt. So much.
Because that’s all they’ll ever be. Friends.
They’re okay. For the most part.
Except Draco can’t help but think and rethink every interaction, terrified of scaring him away.
He tries to put some distance between them, to help his head calm down.
Harry notices.
Because of course he does.
“You’re avoiding me again. I thought we were past that.”
“I’m not!”
“You’re not?”
“I-I’m just scared I’ll do something to push you away again.”
“You couldn’t.”
“What?”
“You couldn’t. I can’t stay away from you for long.”
He wills his heart to stop thundering, his soul to stop rejoicing.
“Really?”
“Yeah. I’d miss you. You’re one of my best friends.”
“Oh.”
“Let’s be honest with each other from now on?”
“Okay, Potter. ”
They were just having fun. The girls had decided they would have a moment, so off camera, they had an indignant one too. By doing synchronised theatrical duelling.
When he caught his eyes, Harry was looking back at him with a fond something in his eyes.
Dissolving into giggles at how dumb they were being together, Draco couldn’t help but think what being with Harry would be like. Would it be as fun filled? Would it be-
“Oh man, I love you.”
Three words. He’d been waiting to hear those three words for forever and beyond. And his heart tightened at the implication, as friends.
His heart stuttered, before he forced himself to calm down.
His soul ached, before he forced himself to stifle the hope.
His love cried out, before he silenced the anguish.
“I love you too, dude.”
The smile is so undeniably fake, but he hopes that someday his heart will find it in him to not be so affected by Harry.
The words that follow make his heart plummet to the ground.
“I, umm, I mean it.”
“What?”
“I really do love you. You're great, funny, beautiful, and so determined to get under my skin. Soulmate or not, I can’t help but love you.”
“B-but I thought-”
“Draco Malfoy, you make me believe in soulmates.”
“Oh.”
“Just, can we take this slow?”
“Of course. Can I- can I hug you?”
“Not that slow, dummy.”
“...I’m your dummy,” He mumbles against Harry’s shoulder.
They have their first date a month later.
In a blanket under a blanket of stars, keeping watch on two of their own sleepily.
“-there, if you take two of the stars at the end of Ursa Major —and you draw a line to Ursa Minor —you'll reach one of my favourite stars."
As Harry gestures violently, Draco has eyes only for him.
“Stars? Not a constellation?”
“The polaris.”
“North star?”
“You’re my north star.”
“Harry Potter, are you being a sap?!”
“I’m serious! You’re my guiding light.”
As he says those words, he moves closer to Draco, his emerald eyes tinged with a darkness that Draco had imagined multiple times over.
Harry brings his hands up to Draco’s face, and while every cell in his body begs for him to lean into the touch, his head jerks away with a nervous laugh.
There is a hint of disappointment in Harry’s eyes.
“Sorry, I kind of freaked out.”
Draco says, burying his head in his palms.
“Hey, that’s okay. We don’t have to go slow just for me you know? We can go at your pace.”
“I like you. A lot. And I want you so much I'm afraid I'll—I don't want to move too fast and scare you off again.”
“I was the one who, y’know.”
“I know.”
“Can I see your soulmark?”
“My what?”
“Your soulmark.”
He’d been hiding it under long sleeves for so long in fears of it coming between him and Harry.
He rolled up his sleeves and shut his eyes.
“Wow.”
“Yeah.”
“I see you’re early for the audition too.”
“I found you.”
“You did.”
And as they moved closer, the stars hid themselves away for them to enjoy their moment at long last.
And as hesitant lips brushed, their hearts beat as one.
And as they kissed, the magic between them breathed love into souls that were connected, both by fate and by choice.
And they both believed it.