Chapter Text
Hermione stared at the passage in the large tome she was studying in her living room, Traditions of the Purest Blood. The war may have ended over four years ago and the magical community was becoming more inclusive, but since leaving Hogwarts and starting her work at the Ministry, she realised pure-blood traditions were still practised in everyday life.
Some of them were chivalrous such as men standing when a woman entered a room, some were antiquated like arranged marriages—even if those were becoming less common—and some were downright sexist, such as a witch not being able to divorce her husband without proof of bodily harm. Hermione was currently trying to push through a new law that changed women’s rights. She tried not to dwell on the fact that she worked in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures as she fought for women’s rights in her spare time. There were other pure-blood traditions that were simple, innocuous. Such as elaborate family crests and afternoon tea being at half three for purebloods instead of four in the Muggle world.
The passage she had just read in her newest book was something she’d never heard of before though. Soulmates.
Of course, Muggles talked about soulmates, but nothing like she was currently reading. She’d never put much stock in the term because it was thrown around so much in romance novels, films, and by the stupid teenage girls in her neighbourhood growing up. Not to mention the fact that one of Ginny’s dormmates thought every man who played Quidditch and looked at her was her soulmate.
According to this book, they were real and if you had a soulmate, both of you were marked in the same spot from birth. Whilst the inner practical part of her that rejected such things as Divination and fate didn’t believe in soulmates, the next sentences in the book had her quickly questioning what she believed.
“The soulmate mark is different for each person, even different from your soulmate. Anyone with a soulmate will have a pattern of freckles in the shape of the constellation the moon was (or will be) at the time of your soulmate’s birth.”
Hermione didn’t have a lot of freckles on her body. But she had always loved the cluster on her right shoulder that was the perfect pattern of Virgo and the one over her heart that was exactly like Pisces. She had thought it was a coincidence that her freckles matched the stars but now she wasn’t sure. This wasn’t a fictional book or written by someone like Trelawney. It was the definitive book on pureblood traditions and, according to the owner of Flourish and Blotts, everything was fact-checked.
Was it possible that she had a soulmate? She was having a hard time believing it was true. If the book was correct, and her freckles were more than a coincidence, why did she have two sets of stars? Was it possible her soulmate was born when the moon sign was shifting? But that didn’t explain why they were on different parts of her body unless she was also born as the signs were shifting.
If soulmates were true, she should probably read up on moon signs again. Thinking back to her Hogwarts days, she tried to remember what her moon sign was. She’d never put much stock into Astrology so she hadn’t taken the time to memorise it. Hell, she didn’t even know if the moon shifted from Pisces to Virgo or not. Summoning her third-year Divination book, she turned to the chapter on star charts and was happy to see hers was still in there, along with Harry and Ron’s.
Her stomach sank into her arse as she looked them over. She was born in the middle of the sign, no shifting. She and Ron were both born during Virgo, and Harry was born during Pisces. Their moon signs matched the markings on her body.
Were Harry and Ron her soulmates?
The idea of fucking Harry churned her stomach. She’d seen him naked enough times when they lived in the tent that she knew she wasn’t attracted to him at all. He was too much like her brother and wouldn’t let him touch her pussy unless he had to help her deliver a baby or something. Not to mention the fact that Harry and Ginny were married and so in love, it was nauseating to be around.
Hermione felt strange when she thought that Ron could be her soulmate. After the war, they’d tried dating over that summer, but it never felt right to her. Ron had wanted to keep trying, but she’d declined. There had been a few awkward letters back and forth when she’d returned to Hogwarts to sit her N.E.W.T.s but by the time she’d graduated, their friendship had returned to normal.
The idea of soulmates being real was new to her, but she didn’t think feeling unsure about your partner was part of it. She scanned the paragraph again, needing more information. Clearly, she was missing something.
‘While having a soulmate is uncommon in the magical world, it is not rare. Most families of pure blood have recorded having soulmates throughout their history. Some families, like the Prewetts, are known for every female member being marked. Compare this to the Weasleys, who are known for having many male children each generation, but only about one in five males are marked. Other families, like the Averys, are known for one person from each generation having two soulmates.’
Two soulmates? Is that why she had two markings?
No, she thought, that wouldn’t be allowed. And anyway, how could someone have two people meant for them? Obviously, her original thought that her person was born as the sign shifted was correct, or one of her freckle patterns was a coincidence.
Hermione looked at the names mentioned again. Prewett and Weasley. Knowing that she wouldn’t be able to rest until she got answers, she put the tome in her bag and stood up, going into her bedroom. Changing into something with a loose neck, she checked her watch to make sure she wouldn’t be interrupting tea time. Three o’clock, perfect. The Weasleys might not be your traditional pure-blood family, but according to Molly, tea time was never to be messed with.
Going back into her living room, she picked up her beaded bag and stepped towards the fireplace. Grabbing a handful of Floo powder, she threw it into the hearth and stepped in.
“The Burrow!”
“Hermione!” Molly called as Hermione walked into the kitchen. “I love it when you stop by, dear. How are you? Come sit down. We can have tea a little early today.”
“Thanks, Molly.” Hermione smiled as she sat down at the familiar table and Molly set a cup of tea, perfectly prepared the way she liked it in front of her. “How have you been?”
“Wonderful. Fleur brought Victoire over today. Can you believe she’s already four months old? She’s upstairs putting her down for her nap. She’ll be excited to see you.”
The news that Fleur was visiting was welcomed. The French witch had a pure-blood father and her mother was half-Veela, half pure-blood so if Hermione was lucky, she’d know about soulmates as well. She listened as Molly filled her in on the latest Weasley gossip as the tea-things were prepared.
The food had just been set on the table when Fleur entered the room and hugged her, kissing both of her cheeks. Hermione couldn’t help but marvel at how gorgeous Fleur had become after giving birth to her daughter. She’d somehow become even more beautiful now that she was a mother.
“What brings you here?” Fleur asked her.
“I had some questions about something I read in a book on pure-blood traditions,” Hermione told her. “It mentioned the Weasleys and the Prewetts and since Molly is a member of both families, I thought she would be the best one to ask.”
“I’m happy to help any way I can, dear,” Molly said, pushing a plate of sandwiches towards her. “What did you read?”
Hermione told the two women everything she had read about soulmates. Whilst she was still having a hard time trying to figure out if soulmates were real, both of them were adamant that they were. She knew neither of them would lie to her. She was a logical person and if she took her own emotions regarding soulmates out of the equation she had to admit that all the facts were pointing to the notion that they were real. And she most likely had one.
Clearing her throat, Hermione tried one last time to see if maybe the book was wrong and revealed that she had always had two freckle patterns on her body. Both of them squealed in delight at ‘how lucky’ she was to have not one but two people who were perfect for her in the world. When she’d raised objections about how improper people would think it was, Molly waved off her concerns, telling her soulmate triads were not mocked but seen as something beautiful and special.
“Do either of you…?” Hermione trailed off, unsure if it was rude to ask if someone had a soulmate.
“It’s okay to ask, dear,” Molly assured her. “As you already read, as a Prewett female I do have one. Arthur does as well.”
Molly proudly held out her arm and showed Hermione her wrist. There were five black stars that made up the Cancer constellation. They looked more like a Muggle tattoo than the freckles Hermione had read about or what her own looked like. Hers were all a uniform light brown, except one star on the Pisces constellation that was a few shades darker.
“Bill and I also have them, but they are not in a place that is appropriate to show people,” Fleur stated matter of factly then laughed when Molly sputtered. Obviously as someone who changed Bill’s nappies, Molly must know where it was located.
“They’re so much darker than mine,” Hermione observed, still looking at Molly’s wrist.
“They darken the more you touch your soulmate,” Fleur explained. “That’s how I knew Bill was mine. We had been working alone all day in a small vault at Gringotts and when I got home, one of my freckles had turned dark brown. By the time we were married they were almost black”
“They change again after your bonding is complete,” Molly continued. “They change from freckles to small stars like mine. And if you’re intimate on your anniversary, they glow. It’s quite beautiful.”
“Does that mean Harry and Ginny are soulmates?” she asked.
“No. Even though Prewett women normally have one, I think because Ginny is the only female Weasley born in the last century, it overrode the Prewett magic.”
“That’s so interesting.” Hermione glanced down at her still exposed shoulder where the freckles were all still light. “So I haven’t touched my soulmates before. I must not know them.”
A wave of relief went through her body. Definitely not Ron or Harry then. Hermione was a very physically demonstrative witch, especially with Harry since he grew up so touch starved, and if she knew her soulmate, she was sure she would have touched them multiple times.
“You know the one over your heart,” Molly said, gesturing to where Hermione’s loose jumper had slipped down. “You have one that’s a little darker. Maybe someone you shook hands with? Or bumped into in the Ministry lifts.”
Hermione’s mind was reeling at the possibility of having met her soulmate, touched them even. She wasn’t quite sure they were real yet—more research would have to be done—but if they were, she’d already met one of hers. Shouldn’t she have felt something? She would think you’d feel something when you touched them. Like a blow to the head or fireworks if her mother’s romance novels were to be believed.
She hadn’t been looking for a relationship, but not being alone every night might be nice for a change.
“Don’t worry Hermione,” Fleur assured her. “You’ll meet them and be as happy as Bill and I are.”