Chapter Text
October 1999 – Eighth Year
Hermione could hardly believe what she was hearing.
She could feel her jaw hanging open, completely unhinged, as she stared at her best friend as if he had gone mad.
“You’re telling me, that you, the chosen one, are convinced Draco Malfoy is your soulmate?” Hermione laughed hoarsely.
“Yes,” Harry dead panned, giving her a serious look.
“Has Malfoy slipped you something? I need to find you an antidote to knock you out of this craze Harry.” Hermione replied, refusing to believe him.
“No, Hermione, you don’t understand,” Harry said, shaking his head. “This is real, I get that it’s hard to believe, hell I didn’t believe it at first, but I talked to Neville and Ron, apparently most purebloods are raised learning about soulmate bonds from birth. Every witch and wizard has a soulmate.”
Hermione scoffed, shaking her head. “And yours just so happens to be Draco Malfoy, former bully and failed death eater? Even if soulmates are real, how can you be sure he’s not just tricking you into thinking he’s yours?”
“Trust me Hermione,” Harry said, reaching his hand out for hers and squeezing it, “you’ll just know when you meet them.”
“But you’ve known Malfoy since you were eleven Harry,” Hermione said exasperated, “how in the world are you just discovering this supposed soul link now?”
Harry chuckled, “I mean come on Hermione, I’ve been obsessed with Malfoy since I was eleven.”
Hermione rolled her eyes.
“I had no idea soulmates were even a thing, so I didn’t understand why I was so drawn to him, plus he was so mean all the time I guess being mean back and stalking him and well I guess attempting to kill him were all just ways I took out my confusion at the connection when we were growing up.” Harry said with a shake of his head.
“And Malfoy?” Hermione questioned, “He clearly knew about soulmates before he got to Hogwarts, yet he still treated you just as bad.”
“Draco’s apologized for that Hermione,” Harry said with a sigh, “plus I think the combination of discovering his soulmate was a boy and also famous for defeating his father’s dark lord boss on the first day of school was a bit too much for him to process at eleven.”
“Come on Granger,” Malfoy said from behind her, having snuck up on the pair of them curled up on the small couch in the Eighth-Year common room, “you can’t really blame me for that, my parents raised me to believe I was destined for some dainty pureblood witch, only for all my expectations to be blown up right in front of me before my sorting.”
Malfoy crossed the space, placing a quick kiss on Harry’s forehead, before throwing himself into the armchair directly across from the pair of them, shooting Harry a smile as he looked them over.
Merlin, Hermione thought. Malfoy sure did seem convinced this was real then.
“Malfoy,” Hermione started, “I’m not saying I believe you, but what was it like, I mean, how did you know it was Harry?”
Malfoy smiled, a wistful look in his eyes. “Mother always describes it as an immediate sense of comfort, like coming home after a long day, even though you’ve never met the person before. Like your body and soul just knows that it’s safe and comfortable.”
Harry chuckled, “I always thought I felt like that while we were waiting for the sorting just because it was my first time anywhere that I felt safe, I knew I would have dinner that night and a bed.”
Malfoy and Hermione both looked over at Harry with sad expressions, it was always hard to hear him talk about how bad his childhood with the Dursleys had been, especially because Harry seemed to have no concept of how truly terrible their abuse was.
“After that you just kind of always know where they are,” Malfoy continued, “any time you walk into a room that they’re in your body just knows exactly where they are in the crowd and your eyes are automatically drawn to them. And you’ll want to talk to them and be around them, it’s like a compulsion honestly. It’s partly why I was always making cracks at Harry or going out of my way to stop him in the hallway to make a comment or try to hex him, it was the only way I knew how to take out my need to be around him at that age.” Harry and Malfoy both chuckled.
Malfoy was still talking, describing all the ways he felt connected to Harry, but Hermione could no longer hear him. Instead, all she could picture were the unexplainable connections and feelings she’d had over the last five years. All she could think was that if what they were saying was true, and she had a sinking feeling that it was indeed very true, then she, Hermione Granger, had a soulmate, but he was already gone.
Hermione came out of her haze with a jolt, realizing both Harry and Malfoy were now eyeing her with concern.
“Malfoy,” Hermione asked cautiously, “what happens to one soulmate then if another were to, say, reject them, or I don’t know, die?”
Harry and Malfoy both flinched a little at the suggestion, and as Hermione waiting for Malfoy to respond she had a feeling she already knew the answer.
“Well, you know my aunt Andromeda,” Malfoy asked, and Hermione and Harry both gave a quick nod in confirmation. “She and my mother reconnected over the summer, and I spent a lot of time with her at the manor while on house arrest. Her and her husband Ted were soulmates, and she said she could feel when he was gone, even though he was on the run somewhere, like this pain in her chest. It’s gotten better, she said it was at the worst for a few days after it happened, but now it’s just like a dull ache near her heart.”
Hermione nodded, absently rubbing her chest above her heart, where she’d felt an unexplainable ache since recovering from Dolohov’s curse at the end of Fifth year.
She felt a tear leak out and start to slip down her face, and quickly reached up to wipe it away.
“I” she stuttered, standing suddenly, “I, um, need to go.”
Hermione stood, ignoring the looks of concern on both boys faces and the way Harry instinctively reached out for her hand, and she fled the common room.