"Why are they looking at me like that?" Harry asked.

Hagrid looked about awkwardly. "I'm not the right person ter tell yeh, on'y... No one's told yeh 'bout 'im?"

Shaking his head, Harry pressed on. "Please."

"Yeh know all 'bout soulmates, I expec', even wit' them muggles... This is hard ter say.

When yeh were born, there was a dark lord runnin' 'bout."

"A dark lord?"

"Yeah. An' like how when muggles meet their soulmates they form a mark, well yer mark was formed the night he attacked yer parents. He kill'd yer parents Harry, but when he tried ter kill yeh he musta bin distract'd, because he couldn' kill yeh wit' that curse. It wen' back ter him and kill'd him, Dumbledore says. Prob'ly not dead-kill, but definitely disappear'd for a long while.

The public don' know whether to hate yeh or love yeh. But I know that yer a good kid, Harry, so don' worry."

Hagrid said this all in a rush, eager to be finished with the gruesome tale. But Harry wasn't done.

"What was his name?"

"Sorry?"

Harry cleared his throat. "The dark lord. What was his name?"

Hagrid's eyes took on a wary tone. "I don' think yeh need ter know somethin' like that, Harry."

With the conversation finished on his standards, Hagrid gave Harry his ticket and left.

Harry went back to Flourish and Blotts and bought some new books.

To be honest, Harry was a bit glad that his soulmate was a dead dark lord. Ever since he could remember, he had a lightning bolt marked upon his forehead, proudly proclaiming to the world that he had met his soulmate before. As Dudley was fond of pointing out, then why hadn't his soulmate stayed for him? Why would his soulmate leave him with the Dursleys, who kept him in a cupboard under the stairs?

This way, it wasn't Harry's fault. It was because his soulmate was a bad man, and dead at that too. (Hopefully.) His years of self-doubt were put at rest. And now, he had Hogwarts to look forward to! Of course, the Wizarding World seemed to dislike or hate him for his connection to Lord Voldemort, whose name he had found in a footnote in small print under "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named." But that was okay too, he was used to being hated.

It wasn't my fault, he repeated like a mantra. I'll be fine-

There was a general feeling of excitement on the Hogwarts Express. Not only were the firsties getting to know each other, some of them were lucky enough to develop their soulmarks right on the spot. Harry tried to flatten his hair over the lightning bolt as he attempted to leave the carriage.

He failed, in both. "Oh, no you don't! You're not leaving me with this harpy!"

"Harpy! How rude! I'll have you know that I've read Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them and are sentient creatures! You can't use a species as an insult!"

"Oh Merlin, that's the part you're stuck on?"

Harry was in hell. This might be worse than Harry Hunting, at least then he would only be hit.

The door opened again to the boy from Madam Malkins'. "Is it true?" he said. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

In surprising tandem the two combatants turned towards the door, Ron throwing a cauldron cake straight at the interrupter's head and Hermione closing the door with a quick spell right after.

Harry burst out laughing. Ron gave a little snort, and even Hermione bit down on her lip smiling. There are some things that you can't share without ending up liking each other, and hatred of Draco Malfoy is one of them.

"You have a crush. On a teacher. A male teacher. Who can't even teach."

"My head feels tingly around him, alright? It's not a crush."

"Wait, your head or your scar?"

"No, Ron, that was a stupid question. Soulmarks only 'tingle' as Harry put it around one's soulmate, and it's been proven that you can't have more than one soulmate in your lifetime."

"I dunno, what if You-Know-Who wasn't Harry's soulmate at all?"

...

"Now that's just wishful thinking, Ron. And what, would you prefer that his soulmate be an incompetent teacher?"

"You're really stuck on the incompetent part, huh?"

"Shut up, Harry."

"Well, Fred and George are soulmates and they aren't, you know, romantic. For that matter, the two of us aren't romantic either. It could be friendship, you never know."

"And it doesn't matter anyway because I do not have a crush on Quirrell."

The egg hatched.

"He knows his mummy!" Hagrid cried joyfully.

But no, the little dragon turned toward Harry and babbled, "Mummy?"

Harry froze. "Sorry- are dragons supposed to be able to talk?" he asked nervously.

Ron gripped Harry's arm. "What did you just say?"

"Sorry, are dragons able to talk?"

Hermione looked at Harry, troubled. "You-know-who was a parselmouth."

"What?"

"He could speak to serpents. Apparently, dragons count, and considering soulmates often share abilities-"

"Well, there goes my theory that Quirrell's your soulmate, mate."

Harry, Hermione, and Hagrid all turned to Ron.

"Unless, Quirrell's a parseltongue too."

"Parselmouth, Ron. And that's Professor Quirrell."

Hagrid turned to Harry. "So what's little Norbert saying?"

"Well, if it isn't the Dark Whore."

Harry ignored the temptation to hex the bits off of Malfoy, assuming they existed in the first place.

"Why're you covering your mark? Oh, I'm Harry Potter, I have no Soulmate, and I'll be lonely and alone forever even when my toadies go get married and have ginger babies!"

"Malfoy, if you don't shut your damn mouth-!"

They stopped as they came upon a terrible sight: a dark figure leaning over a slain unicorn, drinking the silvery blood methodically.

"run," Harry whispered, as pain- or was it pleasure- bloomed in his mark.

Draco ran. The figure turned to Harry, but right before it could reach him-

A centaur leaped through the woods in front of him.

All Harry could think was that he was alive.

"You know I hate you, right?"

Harry was, of course, talking to the disgusting face on the back of Quirrell's head, a face that had a lightning bolt mark that mirrored his own.

"You killed my parents. You turn everyone against me just because I'm your soulmate. You can stop treating me like an idiot, too- nobody can bring back the dead."

"And yet here I am," said Lord Voldemort, his (Quirrell's?) arms stretched out in a cruel parody of a welcoming hug. "And to be fair, you did kill me and leave me for so long. My life has been miserable because you were not present."

Harry scowled. "That's creepy."

And without either of them meaning too, they drew closer to one another until they could touch.

The touch burned.

"Goodbye."

A/N: So in case I am a terrible writer and didn't convey it properly, it was mutual destruction at the end there. I had no idea if I wanted to write crack or angst so it became this messed up thing. It's been so long since I've written fanfiction, ugh. So, clarification stuff: soul marks are formed when soul mates meet. It doesn't prevent them from murdering each other, but it did catch Voldemort off guard and made him mess up since he felt something weird on his head and could see something forming on the head of a baby. Soulmates don't have to be romantic or sexual in nature, it's just two halves of a soul. Ron and Hermione are together because I feel they balance each other out. This is a mess because I've written it in- I don't know, two hours? And something I wanted to include but couldn't: Voldemort was compensating for his lack of a soul mate with the Dark Marks and Death Eaters.