Chapter Text
[Your soulmate's first words to you are written on your body]
Since he was just a kid, Theo's mother had told him all there was to know about soulmates. How everyone had a special someone tied to them, destined to find each other in every lifetime. These fated couples were given the name of soulmates.
When someone became 6 years old, their soulmate's first words would imprint themselves on their skin. This mark would remain with you until the words were first spoken. Then they'd fade into rosy scars.
His mother's love for soulmates was passed down to him through her stories. And the child Theo was back then craved nothing else but to get his mark and finally experience what his mother always described as one of the most beautiful things in life.
Theo's world first came down when his beloved mother died of an unknown sickness, leaving him with a very lacking father, to put it kindly.
His second disillusionment with life came soon after that, on his 6th birthday, when his mark finally came. He'd stayed up until the clock hit 12, and when he felt nothing different he ran in front of a mirror. His young eyes darted frantically over his skin in search of those awaited words.
But when his blue orbs— the only thing he had left of his mother —fell on the letters on his shoulder, all that was left of his dreams was shattered.
On his left shoulder blade, almost on the nape of his neck, were written in clean penmanship and dark green ink two words a 6 year old should definitely not know.
Avada Kedavra
Unfortunately, given his father's background, he'd had the bad luck of hearing them a couple times.
He once dared to ask his mother, who with an aching heart had to explain to him how magic could do something so terrible as taking a life.
That night, Theo sobbed uncontrollably. First he cried again for his mother, cursing the heavens for taking her from him so early. Then he weeped for his soulmate, wondering why the first thing she'd want to do is end his life.
Over the following years, his father tore down everything his mother had built. He raised him with dark teachings and even worse punishments.
Theo learnt at a young age how caring was nothing but a weakness. How emotions held you down. How your soulmate's only purpose was to be a liability. Something to be exploited and for others to hurt you.
Theo took everything in with tight lips and a controlled frown, once he learnt where defiance got him. He spent years keeping his head down and listening to the man who was supposed to be his father berate him for doing as little as disagreeing with him.
In secret he would read, learn as much as he could. Not only because his poor excuse of a father said that knowledge was power. But because he wanted something better for himself than what his father had for him.
Behind closed doors he'd occasionally mourn his mother, as it had been forbidden to even mention her after her passing. Theo also thought about his soulmate, despite resenting her. They didn't even know each other and she already had decided she didn't want him.
But deep down, his father hadn't managed to completely destroy his mother's teachings. In the deepest part of his heart, Theo still hoped it was all a misunderstanding. In silence, he hoped his soulmate did want him.
His mother's sweet child he once was grew up into a quiet, apathetic boy who shielded his emotions behind indifference. He lied and deceived to get what he wanted because, after all, that was what he'd been taught to do.
When he finally arrived at Hogwarts, he fit rather well into the snake pit. He got himself a group of like-minded people: Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, Lorenzo Berkshire and Mattheo Riddle. All of them— some more than others —were kids raised in a certain way. Kids forced to think specific ideals, to act according to them.
Soulmates between them were barely spoken. Their families had taught them to think of them as liabilities. So they kept quiet.
Because they couldn't afford to think about them. They weren’t supposed to have a soulmate. That luxury was reserved to the lucky who didn't have their future— almost —sorted out for them.
But the green satin ribbon that held them back from talking about their marks broke one warm evening in the school grounds. They were just fooling around. Mattheo was using Theo as a dummy for his latest story about how he almost got into a fight with a Ravenclaw. Spirits were high as the son of the Dark Lord pushed his best friend around in a tame representation of the events.
But Mattheo stopped dead in his tracks after a particularly rough push. He’d grabbed his collar, shoving him forward with a bit more strength that he’d intended to. And that’s when he saw it. For a fleeting moment Mattheo’s brown eyes fell on the words on his friend’s body. He barely had time to see them, but he didn’t need more. He’d recognise those words anywhere. Hell, any of them would.
Theo played it down, as if nothing happened, until he saw Mattheo’s face. His eyes were wide as saucers and his mouth hung slightly open. His eyebrows were so impossibly far up they could have disappeared into the messy curls that fell over his forehead. Theo’s face soured at the realisation, averting his gaze away from him.
Theodore Nott had been insanely careful about it, to the point it borderlined obsession. He always made sure the mark was not on sight and that it had no chance of being. His shirts were always buttoned all the way up and his casual clothes consisted mostly of turtlenecks.
He’d even gotten some kind of weird reputation among his multiple flings as he never took off his shirt. Unbutton it? Sure. But it always stayed on. Being in control of the positions was also a big help at hiding the words he loathed so much.
Theo had literally done everything in his power to keep it hidden. But it seems his luck had run out.
“Mate–” Mattheo attempted to say with a hint of panic in his voice, but Theo quickly shut him down.
“Don’t.” He cut in with a piercing glare before storming off to the castle.
The rest of the group watched the interaction with confused stares, not understanding what had gone wrong.
That night Mattheo found him in the Astronomy Tower. He was leaning on the stone balustrade as he angrily smoked a cigarette.
Taking one of his own he flicked it alight with his wand. He could see Theo’s deep frown. If he wanted to talk to him, he’d have to play his cards well.
Mattheo only spoke after taking a long drag, eyes staring far into the distance.
“Wanna talk?” He casually said.
“No.” Theo quickly answered, almost before he finished the question.
Mattheo hummed in response, not pushing him. If Theo didn’t want to talk, he wouldn’t get a single word out of him.
Placing the cigarette back in his lips, Mattheo reached for his shirt, tugging it out of his pants. He slowly lifted the hem of the garment to reveal the words written across his hipbone. Like Theo’s, they weren’t pretty either.
Mattheo fucking Riddle, seriously?
The grey handwriting was gentle, in contrast to the words it formed.
Theo’s gaze quickly flickered to them before scoffing, shaking his head lightly.
“Not even our soulmates want us, uh?” He said, his voice nothing but self deprecating.
Mattheo chuckled at his comment.
“At least mine is better than yours.” He teased lightly, with no real bite in his voice.
Theo’s head fell with a snort.
“You’re not wrong, mate.” He said with a smirk, as he took a puff.
After that night the invisible chain that kept them from talking about soulmates broke. From time to time the subject would pop up and they’d slowly start to share their thoughts and marks.
Lorenzo, the hopeless romantic was the first to cave in. The leather bracelet he always wore fell, revealing a small writing on the inside of his wrist.
Is that how you flirt?
Mattheo teased him relentlessly after that. He even offered to teach him how to properly flirt so he wouldn’t embarrass himself. But Enzo refused, claiming he wanted to be genuine or something like that. Theo rolled his eyes at that.
Out of all of them, Lorenzo was the one who liked soulmates the most. He found it poetic how souls were bound to reincarnate and find each other in every lifetime. While Pansy shared that mindset, Draco disagreed and called them corny.
Still, the platinum blond allowed them to see the mark on his ankle.
Have we met before?
Theo felt a bit jealous. Draco’s was more innocent, untainted by the legacy that hung over their heads. Mattheo shot him a look that mirrored his own feelings. Both of them were in the same boat: stuck with someone who didn’t want them.
Nevertheless, Mattheo shared his after a party. It was in the early hours of dawn, with the familiar buzz of Firewhisky still clouding his mind and disabling some of his walls. He showed his mark with a scowl and a smirk, feigning indifference against it.
“I’m sure they’re just surprised.” Pansy attempted with a tight lipped smile, reading right through her friend’s facade.
“Don’t bother, Parkinson. I really don’t care about them.” Mattheo bit back before chugging down the rest of their last bottle.
“Sure.” The girl agreed with a curt nod, knowing there was no point in arguing with him. Much less when he was in such a state.
The air remained tense and charged with feelings, until Blaise took it into his own hands. Rolling up his sleeve, he revealed a messy handwriting in light blue.
Could you take a picture of us?
Pansy took it as an escape to the awkwardness and poured herself on Blaise’s mark.
“That’s so cliché!” She squealed as she fawned over her friend’s forearm. “It’ almost like a romance novel.”
The attention was redirected now to tell her off about her sappy shit, but the mood had thankfully lightened.
Pansy smiled softly. If being pestered about being corny was what took to dispel the cloud of gloom that had set over the group, then she’d gladly take it. It’s not as if they were wrong, anyway.
“If you guys don’t like his, then you’re going to hate mine.” She said as her smile turned slightly wicked. Her hand went up to her forehead, pushing back her bangs.
Excuse me, is this seat taken?
The words were written in an elegant penmanship with pink ink so far up her forehead that they started to mix into her hairline.
The boys let out a loud groan at the sight of her mark.
“Merlin, that’s the most cliché-y mark I’ve ever seen.” Draco winced.
The Dark Lord's return hit all of them like a bucket of ice water. The figures behind their names called them all back to serve for a cause they despised. They wanted to do anything but die for someone such as him.
Mattheo did what anyone in his shoes would have done. He fled. As soon as he felt the smallest hunch about his father's return, he packed all he could and left with nothing but a hastily written note.
“He's back”
From the moment he woke up to an empty bed and a bad omen in ink and parchment, Theo missed his best mate dearly. But there was one thing he wanted more than to have him back: that he managed to outrun his cursed legacy.
Meanwhile all of their arms itched with the blighted ink of the dark mark. If anyone managed to dodge(crossed) postpone it, it was Pansy. Her mother wanted to marry her off before she got the mark.
It was not a better fate, but at least it got her some time to plan an escape.
Their last year in Hogwarts went by in hushed tones and grey skies. No one dared to speak out loud. Theo and the others were forced to take regular trips to their homes to attend meetings and do tasks here and there.
They hated it.
They hated how they could do nothing but bow down and obey the one who would have their heads severed at the smallest inconvenience.
Theo's hands were stained with blood that wouldn't wash away no matter how hard he scrubbed. Screams plagued his mind and sleep was few. Whether to avoid the nightmares or because he couldn't at all, he didn't know.
His own reflection had become a stranger for him as he made a point to elude it as much as he could. Theo couldn't bear looking at himself— at his mother's eyes. He couldn't.
Each time he faced a mirror, the ocean eyes of his mother would glare back at him and he couldn't help but think “what would she say now?” “What would mama think about me?” “Would she still call me her sweet little boy?”
No, she wouldn’t.
With tight lips and permanently on edge, slytherins stuck to each other like penguins in a blizzard. They kept their chins up and their backs straight as they sauntered all over the castle, as if the whole situation slid off them like water off a duck’s back.
While the whole school hid and cowered in fear, they did the opposite. They talked, laughed, ate and attended classes as if nothing was wrong. As if the Dark Lord wasn’t threatening to turn upside down the world they knew. Because that’s what they had to do.
But behind closed doors, down in their dungeons, slytherins partied like it was their last day on Earth. Because it could be. Most of them were a slightly off look of being killed without a chance to even explain.
No one asked where the Fire whiskey came from or who brought it. They just drank their worries away, hoping the following day everything was over. But when the buzz of the alcohol subsided from their minds and the haze of the party faded away, they were back to the real world. A very dark one.
Then their world finally came down. Harry Potter was back in Hogwarts, and with him the Dark Lord.
Theo and the rest were abruptly summoned home and then back to the school grounds with a hood over their heads and orders to kill.
Theo didn’t want to. Hell, none of them wanted to. But what choice did they have, again?
So that’s what they did. They fought. They raised their wands and followed their parents into what was probably a guaranteed death.
Theo threw spells and curses up and down, not aiming particularly well despite his outstanding marks in charms. He just played his part well enough to keep up appearances. A few expelliarmus and a couple flipendos did the trick. A confringo shot at the ground knocked some Death Eaters out without shifting the blame on him.
Maybe it was wrong to turn his back on his family. But if helping Harry Potter and the rest helped him live to see brighter days, he had no remorse in doing so.
And so Theo discreetly attacked his own side, slowing the Dark Lord’s army. Some expulsos here and a handful of petrificus totalus there. He ducked curses as he ran in search of his friends.
The first one he spotted was Blaise, who was doing pretty much the same as him. Pretend to be on his family’s side while charming his own troops. Sweeping, his free hand locking around Blaise’s wrist.
“Mate, we have to get out of here!” Theo urged as he dragged his friend after him. “We gotta find the rest and get on the other side or we’re done for!”
Blaise was quick to pick up the pace, keeping up easily.
“I saw Enzo over there–” he pointed to somewhere in the distance and both men modified their trajectory “–but I have no clue about Malfoy!” He added
“Bloody hell!” Theo cursed as he dodged a flying spell. “Where is that damn ferret?”
“I don’t know,” Blaise hissed, hot on his heels “but we better find him before someone else does!”
The battle was ruthless. They barely had time to discern between friend or foe. The beautiful views were once the castle’s grounds were now filled with death and war. The air that had always been clean now smelled like ash and the omen of something dark.
They had managed to snatch Lorenzo from his family’s side without being spotted and they were now looking for the last two of the group.
“I saw him over there!” Lorenzo pointed somewhere slightly to their left.
The small group corrected their trajectory, following his orders. Soon enough they spotted a blonde head with terrified blues.
They always were good at hiding their emotions, but Draco’s eyes always managed to betray him.
At the sight of his friends running towards him, he dashed to meet them halfway. They had only been apart from each other for about two hours, but in the midst of the battle it felt like a lifetime. There was no time for hugs, but the feeling made it through only looks.
“We have to get Pans.” Draco urged and they all nodded. She was the last one missing. Once they were all together, they could officially switch sides.
Time went on differently on the battlefield. How long had it been since they apparated in? For how long had Theo been running around trying to find his friends? He wasn’t sure. But all he knew is that he was not leaving without Pansy. And neither were the rest.
“There she is!!” Blaise shouted over the clamour of the battle, wand pointing forward.
And there she was, firing spells like a madwoman. She was ruthless, incantations flying everywhere from her wand. But just like them, none of them fatal. None of them aimed to hit. Just enough to fool.
“PANSY!” Lorenzo yelled and the girl looked at them.
Pansy turned her head at the same time a curse crackled through the air.
“AVADA KEDAVRA”
Theo instinctively casted a spell around them, shielding them right on time. The curse struck the shield, shattering it immediately but dispelling itself in the process.
It was then when the words sank in. Those were his words. The ones etched into his body, forever imprinted on his skin.
He cackled sourly. Who would have told him that he’d meet his soulmate in such a setting.
He should feel relieved. His soulmate didn’t hate him. They were just on different sides of a battle. But not for long.
He wanted to say something meaningful like “do you know how bad those words look on my skin?” or “that’s something terrible to say to your soulmate”. But his mouth outran his mind.
A sardonic smile appeared on his face as he pointed his wand to his soulmate.
“You know what? Crucio you too!” Theo shouted at her as the curse formed on the tip of his wand.
Just like with hers, his curse shattered against a shield casted by sheer reflex.
His soulmate now stared at him, frozen and stiff like a board. Theo knew how she felt. Both of them bore unforgivable curses on their bodies and had had more than enough time to think about them over the years.
He recognised her. A Ravenclaw, from the same year as them. Never had the chance to talk to each other. Not that he had particularly tried to, either.
But now he did want to.