“Hermione had had her mark for as long as she could remember.

As far as she knew, the stag-shaped birthmark had been with her her entire life and, as such, she had never questioned it.

That is, until she came across an unusual book in the Hogwarts library during what was considered her eighth year.”

OR

Soulmates exist in the Wizarding World, but are considered a very private matter. As such, they are never discussed in public. Because of this, muggleborns are unaware of their existence. One such muggleborn is Hermione Granger. However, when Hermione comes across a curious book during her eighth year at Hogwarts, she discovers something that might just change her whole life.

Luter et Cervus 

The existence of soulmates was not something publicly spoken about in the Wizarding World, although they did exist. The proof could be found in the Book of Souls, located deep in the bowels of the Department of Mysteries where only Unspeakables could see it.

As such, those who were muggle-born or muggle-raised were not aware of the existence of soulmates, despite some of them being lucky enough to receive a fate-given partner. The last lucky muggle-born, however, had received her mark on her 17th birthday, and had been in the presence of her pureblood boyfriend, James, when she did. Thankfully, James had understood what was going on, and had explained everything to her, including the fact that their marks matched - the perfect pair of doe and stag - forever meant to be together.

Their love had later given them a son, for whom they’d given their lives to save. Lily and James Potter had died to protect their child, and it was for this reason that their child was blessed too.

…::-::...

Hermione had had her mark for as long as she could remember.

As far as she knew, the stag-shaped birthmark had been with her her entire life and, as such, she had never questioned it.

That is, until she came across an unusual book in the Hogwarts library during what was considered her eighth year.

“The Truth About Soulmates - Myths Dispelled,” she muttered aloud as she removed the book from the shelf, wondering why she had not  heard of the existence of soulmates before.

She soon discovered why. It was explained in the preface of the book - “Soulmates are a strictly private matter and it is because of this that the topic is never discussed in a public setting.”

Hermione frowned. That at least explained why she hadn’t heard of them, but still failed to mention what they actually were. Curious, she continued to read, and was shocked at what she uncovered.

Soulmates were, she discovered, fate-given partners perfectly suited to one another. Along with this came the fact that each one had a mark somewhere on their body - known simply as a Soulmate Mark - that helped them to find each other. The marks could appear at any time during a person’s life, and some were even present at birth. Those lucky few were thought to have the strongest and most treasured bonds.

The marks were also special in that they took on shapes that were important or meaningful in each partner’s life, such as their favourite flowers, special phrases, or even the other’s patronus.

It was this fact that caused Hermione to gasp out loud. At that moment, she realised that the stag-shaped birthmark wasn’t a birthmark, but was, in fact, a Soulmate Mark that could link her with only one person.

Her thoughts were interrupted, however, by a familiar hand coming to rest on her shoulder.

Of her two best friends, one one had joined Hermione at Hogwarts for their eighth year. Ron had gone straight on to Auror training, while Harry had stayed behind with her. Privately, Hermione thought it was because he’d officially broken up with Ginny after the war, and wanted something to occupy himself with. The fact that Ginny had decided against completing her seventh year and had instead gone on to play professional quidditch might also have been a deciding factor. Secretly, Hermione was pleased about it. She’d been in love with Harry for years, and had been very upset when he’d gotten together with Ginny. When they’d broken up, she thought that She might just have another chance with him.

However, Harry was the very last person Hermione wanted to talk to at that moment, especially in light of what she’d just discovered.

Harry leaned down over her shoulder, and glanced sideways at her face, concerned.

“You missed dinner,” he stated, simply, “You normally only do that when you’re freaked out over a test and lose track of time while studying. But we don’t have any tests for at least two weeks. What’s worrying you?”

“Nothing,” Hermione stuttered, slamming the book closed while making sure Harry didn’t see the title, “I guess I just got caught up in some extra reading. Shall we go down to the kitchens for something to eat?”

She stood up from the table, book clutched to her chest, intent on getting to the doors, but Harry’s hand on her arm stopped her. He forcefully turned her towards him, and his eyes wandered her face searchingly. Hermione felt her face colouring, and knew the game was up. Harry had always been able to read her as easily as she read books.

“Hermione,” he said, firmly, leaving no room for deliberation, “What’s wrong?”

She sighed. There was no ignoring it now. She’d have to tell him.

She sat back down again. Harry pulled out the chair beside her and seated himself in it, waiting expectantly for her to explain.

“Have you ever heard of Soulmates?” Hermione began. Harry raised an eyebrow, surprised.

“Not really,” he replied, “There are myths, of course, but I’m assuming that’s not what you’re referring to.”

Hermione nodded, and placed the book she’d been reading onto the table, pushing it towards him.

“I came across this earlier,” she explained, fiddling anxiously with the ends of her scarf, “I was browsing the shelves and the title just caught my eye. I was curious so I began to read it.” She took a breath to calm herself before continuing, “Apparently, soulmates really exist, but are not something publicly discussed. It’s considered uncultured and rude to do so. This is because not everyone receives a mark. The marks are considered lucky, and those who have them are considered to be blessed. As such, those who don’t have a mark are considered terribly unfortunate. Ther mark can appear at any time in a person’s life. Those who have them from birth are considered especially lucky, and the partners have a stronger bond when joined.”

She watched as Harry swallowed nervously, “Do you know if the marks take on any particular shape?”

“According to the book,” Hermione replied, “the marks are different for everyone, although they are always some link to the person’s partner. Sometimes it’s the partner's favourite flower, a special phrase or saying and, very rarely, one another’s paronuses.”

At that point, Harry stiffened visibly in his seat and brought his hand up to rub his left bicep - the same spot Hermione knew her own mark to be located. After a moment of silence, he cleared his throat, looking determinedly at the book still sitting on the table, “I take it, then, that, from your reaction, you have a mark?”

Hermione nodded, briefly, unable to meet his gaze as she cast her own down to her shoes. Her whole body was tense, ready to jump up and run at a moment’s notice.

“May-may I be extremely rude and intrusive and ask what form yours takes?” Harry queried, tentatively.

Hermione took a shaky breath.

“It’s-it’s a stag,” she uttered, quickly, before bolting out the library so fast that Harry didn’t have a chance to reply.

It took him a moment to fully absorb what she’d said, after which he got up and raced after her, leaving a startled and annoyed Madam Pince in his wake. However, no matter how fast he had been, by the time he got into the hallway, Hermione was nowhere to be seen.

Harry spent the rest of that afternoon searching the castle for her. The Room of Requirement, the second floor girls’ toilets, the astronomy tower, the broom closets, the kitchens and the library (again) were all checked without results. Harry even went down to Hagrid’s to see if she hadn’t seeked refuge with him, but no luck.

It was shortly before curfew that Harry smacked himself in the head for his stupidity. Why had he searched all over the castle when he knew there was one place Hermione would run to that he had no possibility of getting?

The girls’ dormitories were the obvious answer.

As quickly as he could, Harry raced up to the portrait of the Fat Lady, and gave the password before entering. Once he was in the common room, he asked one of the younger year girls to check and see whether Hermione was in her dorm. As the only female Gryffindor who had returned for her eighth year, Hermione had a room to herself.

A few minutes later, the girl came back down, and confirmed that Hermione was indeed there, but she wouldn’t say much, claiming she had a headache.

Harry didn’t believe that for one moment, but didn’t say anything either. He thanked the girl absent-mindedly, a plan already forming in his mind. If Hermione didn’t surface for breakfast the next morning, he would put it into action.

…::-::...

Hermione didn’t surface for breakfast the next morning.

Luckily, it was a Sunday, or she would have missed her lessons as well. Harry had decided to give her a few more hours to show herself before he put his plan into action. However, when she didn’t come to the Great Hall for lunch, he decided that enough was enough, and got started.

The first thing was to collect his cloak from his trunk. With that done, he walked down into the common room, careful to avoid bumping into anyone along the way. Once he had made it to the bottom of the stairs that led up to the girls’ dorms, he closed his eyes and breathed deeply as the familiar transformation overcame him.

It was a trick he had learnt from Sirius while staying at Grimmauld over Christmas during 5th year. Apparently, being an animagus somehow got around the charms on the girls’ stairs. Their cats had to get up somehow, didn’t they? Or maybe the professors just didn't expect any students to become animagi while still at school. In any case, the Marauders had used that fact to their advantage many times once they had mastered their transformations, and Harry planned to use it to his as well.

Beneath the cloak, he felt his body change from that of an 18-year-old boy to that of a stag - just like his patronus and, therefore, his father.

Careful not to make any noise, he crept up the stairs to Hermione’s room. Once there, he knocked against the door with his antlers.

“Who’s there?” Hermione's voice came from inside. She seemed tired, and sounded as though she’d been crying. No one responded. From the other side of the door, Harry heard her sigh, and, a moment later, her footsteps headed towards the door, which opened a moment later.

Obviously, as Harry was beneath the cloak, she didn’t see the stag standing before her door. She stood there, puzzled for a moment, before she felt something push roughly past her into the bedroom. She spluttered, surprised, but soon realised what had happened.

“Harry!” She cried, closing the door behind her and stepping towards where she thought him to be located, “What do you think you’re doing, barging into my room like that?! How did you even get up the stairs?”

Blindly, she made grabbing motions with her hands, trying to get a grasp on the cloak. She soon found purchase, and pulled it off, only to freeze when it wasn’t Harry she found beneath it.

“What…?” She uttered, confused, looking the stag up and down in bewilderment. Harry decided to ease her confusion, and changed back into himself, causing her eyes to widen.

“It’s just me!” He said, “The stairs don’t count animagi, okay? That’s how I got up here.”

“What-how-why-why are you here, Harry?”

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he stated, simply, “You didn’t come down for breakfast and you missed dinner yesterday as well. I decided that if you weren’t going to come to me, I would come to you.”

“That’s not true!” Hermione spluttered, “I haven't been avoiding you!”

Harry raised an eyebrow at her, “Oh, really? What was yesterday then? You ran out of the library in the middle of our conversation!”

Hermione’s eyes widened at the reminder, and she abruptly turned away from him, her face colouring, “Well, okay, maybe I have been avoiding you, but not for the reasons you might think.”

She sighed and walked over to her bed, seating herself upon it and proceeding to continue gazing at the floor. Harry waited patiently for her to explain, making a show of not looking at her so she would feel more comfortable.

“I don’t know precisely when it began,” Hermione started, “If I’m totally honest, it was probably on the very first train ride - the day I first met you.” Her blush deepened, “I was so nervous that day, heading on into a world I was so unfamiliar with. I was so used to knowing everything, that the element of uncertainty scared me. But then I met you. You were something I knew about, had read about and felt familiar with. It feels silly to say it now, but I felt so much more comfortable around you.” She shook her head at the memory, “But then you became friends with Ron, and he was horrible to me, calling me names and such, that I’m sure you weren’t aware of. The final straw was that Halloween afternoon. I ran to the girls’ bathroom in tears, making plans to write to my parents, asking them to just take me home.” Hermione smiled, “I nearly passed out when the troll came in. I was terrified, and I truly thought I was going to die, but then you and Ron came rushing in, and saved my life. Not that Ron actually did much. You did most of it, and it was only the fact that I’d taught him the correct pronunciation for the Levitation Charm that he was able to do it at all. Anyway, I think that’s when I first thought that I wanted to marry you one day.” 

Hermione looked up at Harry for the first time since she’d started talking, and found him looking back at her, his expression showing him to be surprised. She continued onwards, “Of course, I didn’t truly know what love was at that point - I was only 12, after all. It wasn’t until fourth year that I realised I was in love with you. My mom helped me to work it out. I can’t remember exactly what she said that summer, but whatever it was it got me thinking, and I realised that I truly did love you. That year was hard for me. First you got entered into that stupid tournament and nearly died fighting a dragon. Then, Professor McGonagall made the announcement about the Yule Ball, and my hopes just soared. I thought that you might ask me, but you only had eyes for Cho, who was going out with Cedric. I knew I couldn’t compete with her - how could I? Me, the bushy-haired bookworm against the dark-haired Asian beauty. Not a chance.” She scoffed, “I accepted Victor’s invitation, thinking that it would at least get you to notice me, if not anything else. I felt rather bad about using Victor that way, but I don’t think he noticed, and, if he did, he didn’t seem to mind.” Hermione paused for a moment, catching her breath, then continued her explanation, “The tournament ended terribly. Cedric was dead, Voldemort resurrected and no one would believe you. The summer that followed was awful. I was so worried about you, and Dumbledore wouldn’t even let me write to you. I felt terrible about it. Then that whole thing with the dementors happened, so you came to stay at Grimmauld. You were so angry, Harry, and the worst part was that you were angry at me. The night you arrived I spent crying in my bedroom. Eventually, you got acquitted at your trial and we went back to school, but the Umbridge had to go and muck everything up. She gave you all those horrid detentions, and you were having those visions. But then came the DA,” she smiled again, “Those lessons you gave were the highlight of my year. I can’t really tell you why. I think it was your presence, mostly. You’re such a good teacher, Harry. I remember learning a lot from you. You seemed so comfortable when you were telling us about the spells and helping us with things. Honestly, half the time I spent watching you instead of practising. Unfortunately, it couldn’t last forever. Umbridge found us out and, shortly after that, there was the DOM…” She trailed off, but Harry knew what she was talking about - it didn’t need much explanation. “That summer was ghastly. I worried about you the whole time, and was so relieved when you eventually joined us at the Burrow. That school year, however, was probably my worst. You and I were on the outs the whole time, and it drained me emotionally. I hated fighting with you. Then, at the end of the year, you went on that God-awful mission with Dumbledore, and only an hour later he lay dead at the bottom of the astronomy tower. It was a nightmare. The worst had to have been, though, when you told us what he’d left you to do. The idea of horcruxes made me sick, and I knew I couldn’t let you go after them alone. That year, it was as if I had been transported to another world, another life. People were trying to kill us wherever we went, the government was gone, and we were starving. Ron left us because of that, and we had to get by on our own. Honestly, the only good memory I have of that year was dancing in the tent with you.” Hermione smiled, sadly.

“Eventually, we made it to Hogwarts, having destroyed all but two of the Horcruxes, but then Voldemort got wind of our location, and came after us.” She shook her head in despair, a few tears sliding down her cheeks, “I honestly don’t know how we survived. So many people didn’t make it. The worst had to be though, when Voldemort made that announcement, asking you to surrender. I remember looking around for you, and you just weren’t there. Then a moment later, you were beside me, and you had this expression on your face. I knew what it meant, but I didn’t want to accept it - I couldn’t. I said I’d go with you, but you refused. You asked me and Ron to finish the snake, ‘Then it’s just him,’ you said, ‘Finish the snake, then it’s only him.’ I say anything. My heart was breaking. Ron had to hold me back as you walked away.” 

The tears were really streaming down her face, and Harry felt his own heart breaking at the sight of it.

“It’s all a bit of a blur after that,” Hermione continued, “Although, that moment when Voldemort said you were dead, I’m sure I nearly died with you. I couldn’t function. Then Neville brought the sword out the hat, killed the snake, and everything turned to chaos. I remember Hagrid shouting that you had disappeared, but I didn’t think much of it - I couldn’t think at all by that point. I just moved, instinctually, shooting off spells with no prior thought or purpose.” She took a deep, shaky breath, trying to calm herself after reliving the memories, “Then, there was that moment I’ll never forget. Voldemort was duelling McGonagall, Kingsley and Slughorn. He nearly had them beaten, but then a shield came out of nowhere, and you took off your cloak. I remember that moment vividly. The relief I felt was so strong, I nearly fell to my knees. Only Ron beside me kept me on my feet. It was only a few minutes after that that Voldemort was gone for good. I just remember running to you, wanting to check to see whether you really were alright, that I wasn’t dreaming. And you were alright. A bit shaken up, but you were alive.” She laughed hysterically, “I didn’t sleep that night. I simply stared at the ceiling, thanking whatever god was out there that you’d made it.”

There was a long moment of silence. Hermione looked up at Harry, her eyes shining with tears, “So, do you see now? Why I ran away? I was scared. I know you don’t think of me that way, and being soulmates would only push us together. I want you to love me of your own free will, not because-”

“Who says that I don’t?” Harry interjected, sharply.

“Wh-what?”

“Who says that I don’t love you of my own free will?”

Hermione looked at him in shock and confusion, “What are you saying, Harry? I don’t understand.”

“It’s really not that complicated,” Harry replied, moving so that he stood before her, and falling to his knees. “I may not always have noticed you,” he said, “which is, honestly, unbelievably stupid of me. And I may not always have gotten along with you, or been nice to you. We’ve fought, we’ve argued, but Hermione, don’t even dare to think for one minute that you aren’t beautiful, and don’t you even dare to assume that I don’t love you.”

Harry looked up into her eyes, emerald green meeting chocolate brown. 

“I’ve been in love with you since first year,” he whispered, “I didn’t know what love was then, but I know what it is now, and I know that I love you.”

Without another word, he leaned forward slowly, and met her lips with his own. The kiss was soft and gentle at first. It took Hermione a moment to fully comprehend what was going on, but, as soon as she did, she responded passionately, deeming the kiss until sparks flew behind their eyes and the marks on their arms burned fiercely.

…::-::…

Neither Harry nor Hermione made it to lunch or dinner that day, not that anyone noticed.

They got married straight out of school, an occasion which was happily attended by all their friends and family. While on their honeymoon, Harry helped Hermione with her own animagus transformation - an otter, just like the mark on Harry’s arm, like her patronus.

A year later, their first child was born - James Sirius Potter - with the mark of a horse on his left wrist. The new parents had been ecstatic when they saw it, so pleased that their son would have a love like their own - full of joy and happiness.

They wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Finis