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Ginny Weasley remembered the day she found out soul-mates were real. She heard stories growing up from Bill and Charlie’s late-night gossiping, but whenever her Auntie Muriel came over, she would always attempt to disprove their theories.
“True love doesn’t exist, Ginevra,” she would tell her, “And it’s better to get that in your head now rather than end up disappointed later.”
At first, Ginny didn’t believe her, she wanted to believe in true love. You could say she was a romantic, even if her brothers teased her relentlessly for it. But as her Hogwarts days started nearing, she gave up on the theory and thought it to be impossible. If true love existed, it was between her parents, and they were not marked. Not that she knew of.
It was the day before she was supposed to leave for her first day of school. She walked into her parent’s room to find her mother. She wanted to ask her where she placed her favorite jumper, but she caught sight of her mother slipping on her sweater to get ready for the day. Ginny felt awkward, of course, she should have knocked.
But then she noticed it. She noticed a mark; it was a wildflower to be precise and right above her heart. Amazed, Ginny stood at the doorway gaping.
It took a few moments for Molly to realize someone was there, and as soon as she saw it was Ginny, she begged for her to close the door and come in quickly.
Ginny made her way to her parent’s bed and jumped on top of it excitedly.
“Is that really what I think it is?” she asked, “Are you marked? Are you and dad soul-mates?”
“Keep your voice down!” Molly pleaded, “Let me tell you a story.”
Ginny stopped jumping on the bed and sat criss-cross applesauce. She beamed up at her mother who sat down next to her.
“So is it really true?” Ginny pressed.
Molly smiled and rested her hand on top of Ginny’s.
“It is, my love,” she explained, “The moment I met your father and he shook my hand, we were marked.”
“Then why don’t you prove Auntie Muriel wrong? Why keep it a secret?”
Molly patted her hand, “What you don’t understand Ginny is that a lot of people don’t believe that soul-mates exist. If you tell people, especially in my generation, they scoff at you and figure you are lying. It wouldn’t matter what I tell your Auntie Muriel, she wouldn’t believe us. Especially since she has never found her true love. She will never understand.”
“Why is it so uncommon, mum?” Ginny asked curiously, “Why can’t it be proven?”
“Because most people aren’t lucky enough to come across their true love. Sometimes they are on the other side of the world, but know this: It can happen for you just as easily if you believe it will. However, I don’t want to give you false hope. Please don’t feel like you are guaranteed to be marked, do you understand?”
She nodded but then smiled excitedly at her mother, and she felt so overwhelmed that she hugged her. Molly chuckled and rubbed her back.
It was in Ginny’s nature that she felt hope. If her parents found each other, she would find her true love, too.
Molly whispered, “Oh, my sweet girl. I know you’re excited at the possibility, but can you please do me a favor?”
Ginny pulled back from her mother’s hug and replied, “Anything for you, mum!”
Molly smiled and grabbed her hands again, “You must promise me you won’t tell your brothers. Your father and I have kept it a secret for a reason. The fewer people that know, the better. It’s not that we don’t want your brothers to know, we are just protecting them from possible heartbreak. Do you understand?”
Ginny nodded, but she left for Hogwarts the next day with a lot of hope in her heart.
Especially when she saw Harry Potter, but the amount of disappointment she felt when she brushed his arm accidentally and was not marked was indescribable. That’s when she decided to keep her mother’s secret, because she truly realized how rare it was.
And if Harry Potter wasn’t her soul-mate, no one could be.
But Ginny was naïve back then. If only she knew her destiny and the game she was about to play.
Blaise didn’t believe Draco at first when he told him he had found his soul-mate, and that his soul-mate was the one and only Hermione Granger. It took a lot of convincing for him to count it as fact, and even still, he was skeptical.
But when Pansy admitted that she was marked by Harry Potter and easily proved it, Blaise started to wonder what the hell was in the water at Hogwarts.
Naturally, he had to research what was going on to see why some people were marked and some weren’t. All the books and articles said that some individuals were marked because they were lucky enough to find their true love, and some were not. There was no scientific basis to anything he read. He found it stupid.
If Blaise was being honest, he did not care if he found his true love. Life was easier without attachments, and without attachments, he could have fun. His mother had a blast fooling around throughout his childhood, so why shouldn’t he get to live the same luxury throughout his life?
He knew he was shallow, but that was life. Humans were here to reproduce, and that was a logical fact. True love wasn’t needed to survive, especially not for someone like him.
Daphne practically forced Blaise to attend Draco and Hermione’s “welcome to our new home” party. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy a good time, but he didn’t want to deal with the constant chatter about Draco and Hermione being marked for life. So many people were jealous, so many were skeptical, and so many were amazed. It was enough to make Blaise want to puke. He hated small talk, and that was the smallest conversation that could go around. Especially since there was no explanation for this particular phenomena.
“I’m happy you were willing to escort me tonight,” Daphne told him, “I felt awkward going alone knowing that Pansy was going to meet Harry there. You know they’ll talk and instantly feel their connection. They can’t avoid it forever.”
Blaise tried hard not to roll his eyes, but he replied, “It’s no problem, Daphne.”
He glanced to his right side and checked her out. Her long magenta gown hugged her curves perfectly, and her blonde hair was in loose waves. Daphne was gorgeous, but he had been there and done that. They made it clear after one time that it would never happen again.
“Are you reminiscing about our old times at Hogwarts?” Daphne teased.
They had approached Draco and Hermione’s front door, so it gave Blaise an excuse to avoid answering the question honestly.
“What are you waiting for, are you going to knock?” she asked him impatiently.
He rolled his eyes again and huffed, but he relented into knocking on the door.
Draco greeted them with an ornery smile.
“Greengrass and Zabini, I never expected to see you together again. I thought that one night extravaganza was enough for you?”
Daphne rolled her eyes and kissed Draco on the cheek.
“It’s nice to see you, Draco, but no. You know that won’t happen again.”
Draco chuckled as he slapped Blaise on the back and let him in.
“Is Pansy here yet?” Blaise dared to ask.
Draco shook his head, “No, but Potter is here already. Look at him over there. He is talking to his could have been old flame.”
Blaise lifted his head to see that Potter was talking to Ginny Weasley.
She was wearing a short and obnoxiously tight red gown, and she looked extremely uncomfortable in her four inch pumps. They were horrendous. He smirked to himself.
“She’s still hot, isn’t she?” Blaise asked casually.
Draco chose not to answer by saying, “Why don’t you go have a drink while I go and check on my lady, yeah?”
Blaise smirked at Draco as he walked away. He was whipped. He decided to approach Daphne again to give him something to do.
“Shall we?” he asked.
He held out his hand to escort Daphne through the crowd to grab a glass of champagne, and she did a dramatic curtsy before taking his hand.
“How is Ginny Weasley so gorgeous?” she asked him, “I used to hate her, but now I can’t help but sort of like her. She has been to a lot of Draco and Hermione’s small get-togethers, the ones you have refused to go to I might add, and she is honestly wonderful.”
“Going soft on me, Daph?”
She snorted, “Of course not, I just speak the truth.”
Blaise held his breath as they passed by Ginny and Potter. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt the need to. Ginny shifted uncomfortably on one of her heels, and they brushed arms.
That’s when he felt it. His chest was burning, but he knew he was in way too good of health to be having a heart attack. He was nineteen, for god’s sake. And that’s when he saw it. He saw blood bleeding through his white dress shirt. He tried to wait it out, but he figured he should leave while Daphne was distracted. He excused himself to go to the loo.
That’s when he came face to face with Ginny Weasley. She was pulling her dress back to examine the mark that he had given her. All he could do was gulp.
Ginny hated heels, and she hated more that she was being required to wear them. But she would do anything for Hermione, and it was a small price to pay to make sure her one true love was also happy. A happy Draco meant a happy Hermione.
She never thought she would think those things in her mind, but here she was.
Ginny couldn’t help but shift back and forth uncomfortably in her heels. It was the only way to make them tolerable for at least a few seconds, but as she shifted to her left foot, she brushed up against someone.
“Oh sorry,” she mumbled, but she didn’t catch who it was. They walked by too quickly.
But then it hit her a few seconds later. Her chest was being ripped open, and she felt faint. Harry wasn’t paying attention, and she watched as he waited impatiently for Pansy to arrive. She wasn’t going to bother him with this, he had other things to worry about.
But he glanced over towards her. She had no idea how she looked, but it apparently wasn’t good. His face was full of concern, and he asked her, “Gin, are you alright?”
She blinked a few times to regain composure, and she attempted to stand up straighter.
“I-I’m fine,” she lied, “I’m just going to go to the bathroom.”
Before he could respond and pry anymore, she dashed away from him and towards the hallway.
She peeled the top of her dress away from her sticky skin, and it was what she was afraid of. She had been marked, but she wasn’t sure by who.
Her mark was of a quill and it was still bleeding profusely. She wondered if that was normal. She figured she would be ecstatic that she was finally marked, but the fact that she had no idea who ran into her was making her worry.
“So,” a smooth voice spoke up from around the corner, “What mark did I leave?”
She looked up to see herself facing Blaise Zabini. He looked abnormally calm, which made her angry. He wasn’t scared, he wasn’t excited, he looked unphased.
“Yo-you were the one that ran into me?”
He walked closer towards her and unbuttoned his shirt to reveal a mark of a broomstick.
“I’m afraid so,” he said, “Since you’re an aspiring professional Quidditch player, and I was marked with a broomstick.”
Without asking, he grabbed the top of her dress and pulled it down slightly to see her mark. Ginny felt exposed, but then she realized it didn’t matter anymore.
He was now embedded into her skin, and if she concentrated enough, she could feel his calm heart beat against her erratic one.
“Ah, a quill. I’m not surprised, my passion is writing,” he told her.
She pursed her lips together and nodded.
“So, that’s it then? You don’t even care that we are marked as soul-mates?” she asked him hotly.
She watched as a smirk spread across his face.
“Why should it matter, Ginevra?” he taunted, “It appears everyone is being marked these days. It’s not really unique. Besides, we can still see other people, right?”
Ginny’s mouth fell open in disbelief. This could not be happening.
But before she could reply, he had turned on his heel and walked back out to join the party.
Blaise would be lying if he said he didn’t feel like something was missing. He took that as a sign that he needed to get laid, so naturally, he owled sweet old Tracey Davis over to participate in a casual fuck.
Well, it was casual for him anyway. It was all going great until she caught sight of his mark.
It was still red; he hadn’t seen Ginny since the party. It had no time to truly heal.
“Is-is that a mark?” she asked bewildered.
He tried to ignore her and played with the lace on her bra, but she slapped his hand away.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” she spat, “You invited me over for a casual fuck when you have a one true love? What the fuck are you doing?”
She rolled off of him and started pulling her clothes back on. He leaned against his side casually on his bed and watched her.
“I don’t believe in this shit,” he told her honestly, “Everyone seems to be getting marked these days. Have you heard about Hermione Granger and Draco? They are engaged now cause of this shit. Why are all these Slytherins and Gryffindors inter-mixing, wouldn’t you say it’s weird?”
Tracey shot him a glare, “I don’t care what it is, but don’t owl me again. Owl Ginny Weasley and tell her you are horny and want to fuck her.”
“How do you know it’s Ginny Weasley?”
It rolled out of his mouth before he could think through anything. It was impulsive of him, and he was never impulsive.
“Because I see the GW engraved on the broomstick handle of your mark. Plus, she is the only one who could ever compete with you in the beauty department.”
He grinned at that, and she frowned at him, “Don’t take that compliment as a way to boost your ego. It’s big enough already. And it’s not just that. It’s also because you have always looked at her differently. I can’t explain it.”
“You were seeing things.”
She sighed as she turned the handle on his bedroom door, “I don’t think I was, Blaise.”
He was about to give her a sarcastic retort, but before he could, she was gone.
Ginny didn’t tell anyone about her mark. She was ashamed of it; she was ashamed that her soul-mate was such a smooth player.
He was a fuck boy, and Ginny did not do fuck boys. Sure, she had had her fun during Hogwarts with Dean and Michael, but she wasn’t a bitch about it. Blaise was a dick, and a cold one at that.
A few weeks after the ordeal, she decided to go shopping in Diagon Alley to clear her mind. As she was browsing shops, she caught sight of him.
Instantly, she felt herself glare, but she charged right up to him.
“You can’t avoid me forever, Zabini,” she said harshly, “This isn’t something you can slither your way out of.”
Ginny felt his heart against hers again, and this time, she was surprised that it was racing. It made her smirk in satisfaction. She felt the quill against her chest darken, and she knew he could feel his mark doing the same thing.
“Oops,” Ginny said sarcastically, “I’m so sorry I made our marks darken by coming up to talk to you. It doesn’t make it any more permanent, oh wait. I think it does.”
He glared at her.
“Is there something I can do for you, Weasley?”
She snorted, “Well, we could talk about what this means,” she suggested, “Unless you’re just that awful with commitment.”
“I am that awful, I’m glad you catch on quick.”
She rolled her eyes and grabbed his lower arm.
Although she was at least six inches shorter than him, she was strong enough to drag him down Diagon Alley until they were in a deserted back lot by George’s joke shop.
“Are you wanting me to meet your family now?” he asked as he pointed to the joke shop’s sign, “I think that’s a little early, don’t you think?”
It was in that moment then that Ginny realized she wouldn’t get through to him by talking. The only way he would listen was if they touched again.
Impulsively, she grabbed the collar of his shirt so his lips smashed against hers. And that’s when her lips ignited. She had never felt this amount of fire before.
Her whole body tingled, and she quickly moved her hands up his neck until she was gripping him tightly.
It took him a minute to respond, but then she could feel his heart beating against hers as well, and their marks deepened in their skin.
His tongue slid between her lips, and his fingers tangled in her hair. Before she knew it, her legs were wrapped around his waist, and he was slamming her against the brick wall.
She gasped for air, and he looked at her hungrily. That’s when she realized they almost had identical eyes. His were golden brown as well, but they were bright against the contrast of his skin. He made her feel dull.
His lips were pressed against her neck before she could stop him, and she moaned as she dug her nails into his back.
She was feeling complete ecstasy, but then she realized this meant nothing to him. He didn’t want to love her, he wanted to fuck her - just like anyone else. But this time, he would have heightened physical pleasure as he did so.
“Stop!” she finally snapped.
She untwined her legs from his waist and let herself drop. She was surprised when he caught her by the elbow. His lips were red from all their kissing, and his pupils were dilated.
“Why?” he asked desperately, “Did you not feel that?”
“Of course I did, but I’m not going to be another casual fuck.”
She grabbed her bag from the ground, and she dashed out of the alley before he could say another word.
He admired his mark in the mirror and traced his finger against the broomstick. He stopped once he reached her initials, and he sighed as he turned away from his own reflection.
He missed her, and he didn’t get why he missed her. He missed her in a way that was more than just needing to have sex. He didn’t even fuck her. He missed her in a way that felt like longing.
And that made him want to punch himself in the face.
He was Blaise Zabini, and he didn’t feel this way about anyone. Fuck true love, he always said. Fuck relationships. They were a waste of time.
But it didn’t feel that way anymore, especially when he could close his eyes and feel her heart beating no matter how far away she was. If he focused hard enough, it made him feel relaxed. It was sickening, it truly was. He couldn’t stand it, but he couldn’t stand not having her.
He fretted for hours before he sent his owl to her. He asked her to come over, and he had no idea if she would. He was surprised when he got an owl back that simply said, “Okay, see you then. G”
He paced back in forth in his front entry-way until she arrived. When she got there, he felt her heartbeat so overwhelmingly that he opened his door straight-away. Her hand was up in the air mid-knock.
“Hi,” she said awkwardly, “May I come in?”
It was a stupid question, and he was usually the type to always point out when someone asked a stupid question. But he didn’t this time, and he surprised himself.
“Ye-yeah, of course.”
She flashed him a small smile as she made her way through his door, and she helped herself to the kitchen. He watched as she poured herself a glass of red wine, and she downed it in one drink.
He couldn’t even do that, and he would be lying if he didn’t say he was impressed.
“So,” she said, “What do you want to talk about?”
He leaned up against his kitchen counter and stole the bottle of red wine from her and took a swig.
“I wanted to talk about us,” he answered casually, “That is, if you’re still interested.”
He watched as her warm eyes brightened, but she tried to hide her shock.
“I suppose that could be discussed.”
She snatched the bottle from him, but their fingers slightly brushed against each other. An electric jolt rushed through Blaise’s body, and he felt her heart pick up speed against his chest.
Ginny dropped the bottle, and it hit the counter and shattered. Red wine dripped off the edge, but Blaise didn’t care. All he wanted was her.
He took a step forward and grabbed her cheeks with his hands. His lips were against hers before she could even breathe, but she did not complain. She opened her mouth willingly and let his tongue slip in. Her arms were quickly wrapped around his waist once more, and he wasted no time carrying her to the bedroom.
As he gently placed her on the mattress, she ripped off her t-shirt to reveal a white cotton bra. It was so simple. She didn’t even try, and Blaise found that endearing. He caught sight of his mark on her again, and he brushed his fingers over it softly. She shivered.
“Are you sure?” he whispered.
He didn’t want her to think she was another Tracey, because she wasn’t. He hadn’t realized it until now, but this was something more, and he wanted it. He wanted it no matter how much it scared him.
“Yes,” she whispered, “I want you.”
She pulled his shirt over his head and immediately kissed the mark she left on him, and he felt the sensation as it became more engraved into his skin and darkened.
This was the start of it all, and it was far from casual. It was tender, and it was real.
They woke up the next morning, and Ginny’s head was on his chest. Her breathing was even, and her heartbeat was perfectly overlapping his. He brushed her red hair out her face, and she woke up slowly.
“Sorry,” he said quietly, “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
She surprised him by smirking, “Were you watching me sleep? That’s very sappy of you, Zabini.”
He playfully snorted, “As if.”
He smiled as she began to laugh. Her laugh was going to become his favorite sound.
Months passed, and it was time for Draco and Hermione to get married.
Although Harry and Pansy were still avoiding each other, Blaise and Ginny decided to accept their newfound relationship. That made it especially easy for Blaise to be Draco’s best man and for Ginny to be Hermione’s maid of honor.
In her dressing room, Ginny tugged uncomfortably at the pale green dress Draco picked out for her to wear. It was lace, and it scratched against Ginny’s skin uncomfortably. She groaned to herself as she slipped on her heels, and she felt Blaise enter the room.
She turned around and playfully pouted.
“I fucking hate heels, and this dress is so uncomfortable. You would think Draco would have been a little nicer about picking something out for me that was tolerable.”
“At least you look gorgeous,” Blaise offered.
She rolled her eyes, and he planted a kiss on her forehead.
“You know,” Blaise commented, “If it weren’t for heels, we wouldn’t have even been marked. It was because you were shifting so much in those hideous pumps that I ran into you.”
“So you finally admit you ran into me now? A few months ago, you claimed it was all my fault.”
She smiled playfully at him, and he wrapped his arms around her.
He was about to tease her back, but then Draco peaked his head in.
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything, but I’m about to get married. You two should probably come out and take your places at the altar.”
Ginny blushed slightly, but Blaise was unphased.
“Okay Malfoy, we’re coming out now.”
Ginny watched as Draco adjusted his bow tie, and he slipped back out of the room to take his place and wait for Hermione. Blaise grabbed Ginny’s hand, and they made their way down the aisle.
Ginny could not focus on anything else as Blaise rubbed the back of his thumb against her hand. Tingles were shooting up her arm, and her heart accelerated. Ginny saw him smirk as they parted ways to stand on opposite sides of Draco.
Two could play this game, she thought.
As Hermione was walking down the aisle, Ginny watched her and smiled, but she made sure to move her long red waves off her shoulder to expose her neck. She turned her head slightly, and she knew this would drive Blaise mad.
His weak spot was her neck, and she teased him that he liked to suck on it like a vampire. He claimed he had more class than that, but he honestly didn’t.
Ginny felt his heart speed up after she turned her head, and she smirked and stole a glance his way.
His eyes were playful, and he was smirking, too.
Ginny’s life was about playing a game, but this game was her favorite one by far.