Author's Note: For Finals Round 2, as Beater 2 for Pride of Portree:
Cliche: Soul mates
Prompts:
Word: unusual
Narrative device: flashback
The Trouble With True Love
"Are you both... sure?"
Molly Weasley stood on the stairs, her arms crossed as she stared suspiciously at the two young adults who had just opened the front door to the Burrow.
Ron jumped, as though he had been caught with his hand in a cookie jar, while Hermione turned a bit more slowly, her eyes narrowed with irritation.
Hermione and Ron had only been engaged for half an hour, but Molly Weasley had already noticed the tiny silver band on Hermione's finger, and, from the sound of her voice, she wasn't happy about it.
"We've been dating for almost a year, Mum!" Ron said, a petulant whine.
"Did you knock her up, then?" Molly eyed Hermione's stomach suspiciously.
"N-no! Why would you even say such a thing?" Hermione cried, her face scarlet with embarrassment.
"It isn't unusual for it to happen, you know," Molly said with a sniff.
"Well, that's not it! We love each other! Don't we, Ron?" Hermione grabbed Ron's arm, and she looked at up him pleadingly.
Ron's face was pale as he looked from his scowling mother to his scowling fiancee.
"I... uh…." he faltered.
"Well, if that's what you want," Molly said airily, "but I must insist that you go to see a professional Diviner before you start planning the wedding. Bill and Fleur went to see one and their Diviner confirmed their innate compatibility! I know soul mates are rare even under the best of situations, but I would feel more at ease if you two would get it done."
With that, the older witch turned and padded back up the stairs.
"Rare to be soul mates?! Under the best of situations?! What is that supposed to mean?!" Hermione fumed, rolling her fingers into fists, "Why, I ought to go upstairs right now and give your mum a piece of my mind!"
"C'mon, 'Mione!" Ron said, tugging at Hermione's sleeve, "Don't be like that. You know she didn't mean anything by it. It's just… that's how Mum is."
"Fine! Take her side!" Hermione seethed. "I… I need to think… alone! Goodnight, Ronald!"
Ron took a step back as Hermione slammed the door behind her. The gravel crackled under her feet and a loud crack echoed in the night air once she was clear of the wards.
"Well, at least she didn't say that the engagement was off," Ron muttered to himself as he climbed the stairs, running his hand through his short, red hair. "Bloody hell, this evening was nearly a total wash, but at least it can't get any worse."
As he sat down to write a letter of apology for whatever it was that he'd done to anger Hermione this time, Ronald Bilius Weasley had the blessed ignorance of having no idea how wrong he was.
Three Years Earlier:
Sixth Year student Hermione Granger sat at a study table in the Hogwarts library. She was almost at the end of her rope. Her attempts to learn about horcruxes had been a wild goose chase. She stared balefully at the stack of books she'd already scoured through in vain. The charm she'd developed to look up various key words in books was only so helpful, as it required her to use the exact spelling and it did not account for tomes printed in other languages.
"This is impossible!" Hermione fumed, throwing her hands up in the air. She was eminently grateful for having preemptively cast a Muffliato before she went on a swearing tirade that would have turned Madam Pince's ears a scandalous shade of red.
Groaning with defeat, she rested her forehead on the table and, without looking, grabbed a random book from the table before her.
"Soul Mates: Nemesis or Nature?" she read aloud tiredly, brushing her hand across the illustration on the front, which featured two wizards fighting with black, twisted implements. "Maybe this will be the one."
She flipped through the pages, skimming the words, and then pulled out her wand, casting the spell to search for horcrux.
For a moment, the book seemed to glow brighter than any she had tried before, but then it faded, leaving Hermione staring at it with tears brimming in her eyes. She wiped her face with her sleeve and set the book down with a shaky, defeated sigh.
"Well, of course it's not that easy!" she scoffed.
Finally, Harry and Ron had dragged her away from her research.
"After all," Ron said, grinning shyly, "we wouldn't be very good friends if we let you starve to death amidst all these musty books!"
Hermione started to argue, but then she realized that, in his own infuriating way, Ron was showing that he cared about her, even if he did say disparaging things about her study habits. So, she swallowed her pride and grabbed her notes, as the books magically floated off of the desk and began restocking themselves.
"It's ok, Hermione," she muttered to herself as she trudged behind her friends, "you already wrote down all of the titles just in case you need to go back and look through them later."
"What was that, Hermione?" Harry said, chuckling at a humorous impression that Ron was doing of Filch chasing after first years.
"Oh... nothing…" Hermione said, embarrassed, clutching her notes to her chest.
The Diviner's Dream was a new shop near the end of Diagon Alley, but it came highly recommended, regardless of what Hermione thought of divination as a subject. Ron had finally convinced her to go through with the compatibility reading. The cost was a bit higher than Hermione wanted to pay to be fawned over by what she assumed would be a Professor Trelawney clone, but then again, she doubted that anyone would offer such services for free. The shop was surprisingly free of crystal balls and superstitious bric-à-brac, which instantly made her feel a bit less silly about the whole thing.
"Wouldn't it be funny if we were soul mates?" Hermione mused as they waited. "It sure would show your mum!"
Ron blanched, his mouth opening and shutting silently like a fish.
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Honestly, Ron, you're far too afraid of your mother. It's not as though she's hiding behind a curtain and listening in on us! The way you act when I say anything remotely romantic, as though she's about to swoop in and fix you with the evil eye... it's depressing. Is this what I have to look forward to as your wife? A lifetime of playing second fiddle to your mother?"
"But… 'Mione... soul mates... that means—"
"Good morning! I will be helping you with your compatibility session to-" The witch that had interrupted them finally looked up from the parchment she was reviewing, her eyes wide with surprise.
"Lav—Lav... ender!" Hermione exclaimed, trying not to look at Ron, who had gone very still beside her.
Lavender eyed Hermione, who had dressed in sensible Muggle jeans and a t-shirt with a robe hastily thrown over it, with slight confusion.
"What's with the layers, Hermione?" she asked.
"Well, to be honest, I'm actually renting an apartment in a Muggle area because the cost is lower, and I'm rarely there anyway." Hermione's voice came out a bit more shrill than she would have liked, but she found that she was having trouble controlling it.
"Oh, is that so?" Lavender looked at Ron knowingly.
Hermione realized that she'd implied something very far from the truth.
"No!" she said sharply, prompting both Ron and Lavender to stare at her oddly. "I mean… I'm at work… a lot… so… not much reason to spend premium Galleons on a place, right?"
She laughed awkwardly, but no one laughed with her. This didn't entirely surprise her, though. She'd already had a number of arguments with Ron about her propensity to work late and her insistence on living on her own instead of living at the Burrow until they could get married.
Lavender smiled—a cold, professional smile that Hermione knew very well from having used the same in the course of a day at work.
"I understand that it may be a bit awkward for me to administer your compatibility session, so if you would like to reschedule…"
"No!" Both Ron and Hermione looked at each other as they spoke simultaneously. Hermione didn't know why Ron was objecting, but in her case, the idea of having to come back later and risk seeing Lavender while waiting for someone else to help them was simply too much for her to bear.
"Very well, then!" Lavender said, smiling brightly and leading them back through a purple curtain with silver stars embroidered on it. "We're in number seven. You may go ahead. I have to gather a few final ingredients first."
Hermione glanced back at Lavender somewhat suspiciously. There was nothing in the voluptuous witch's demeanor, or, for that matter, her rather short, form-fitting robes that showed anything other than an eagerness to help, but Hermione still felt wary.
The room was small and intimate, with two purple upholstered stools on either side of a round table. A third, high-backed black leather chair sat equidistant from both stools, turned towards the smoky crystal ball that sat in the center of the table. Still, they dutifully took their seats, the awkward silence from before hanging between them.
Though there was no choking stench of incense or kitschy accessories lying around, Hermione still rolled her eyes at the crystal ball. It brought back too many bad memories.
A soft click alerted them to Lavender's entrance behind them.
"Sorry about that!" Lavender said brightly.
Lavender placed a bag on the table before bending forward and scooting the chair up so that she could sit. Hermione noticed that Lavender appeared to be flashing a noticeable amount of cleavage at them, but it was done so innocuously that she felt unsure about pointing it out.
"Shall we begin, then?" Lavender asked, removing several items from the bag. There was a feather, a heart-shaped stone, a Galleon and an acorn. The last object was wrapped up in a flat leather pouch and tied with silk.
"What's that?" Hermione asked.
"Hopefully it won't be necessary," Lavender replied evasively.
Hermione looked at Ron, who was staring at Lavender's breasts rather obviously, and glared.
"Well, then," Lavender said, "shall I explain what we're going to do here today, or are you both fine with just jumping into it straight away?"
Ron opened his mouth as though about to say something but Hermione shushed him.
"Yes," Hermione said firmly, "please do."
"First, you will both place your wand hands on the crystal ball, and I will recite the incantation. Then, the item that best signifies your compatibility will glow. You are free to take it with you once it is over. It is Wizarding tradition to have the token of compatibility attached to the foundation of the couple's home when they move in in order to ensure a happy marriage."
Hermione gave Lavender a skeptical look.
"That sounds rather…" she trailed off.
"Woo-woo?" Lavender supplied.
"Something like that," Hermione replied. "Could you please explain what each of these items means?"
"Oh, that's easy!" Lavender exclaimed, "The feather represents travel- most couples who get this one are happiest while they are nomadic. The heart stone represents passion. Marriages that are made under the heart do best when the relationship is both intellectually, and physically... active. The Galleon represents a marriage that works like a business—cold and impersonal to some, but very profitable and very functional. Absence, in this case, really does make the heart grow fonder. The acorn, well, it signifies family… lots of it. Those who are blessed with the acorn are also blessed with a large, loving family. It is said that contraceptive charms grow less effective for those who are lucky enough to choose this one."
"Lucky?" Hermione said incredulously, prompting a glare from Ron. "What about the last one?"
"That," Lavender said, leaning forward, her voice growing quiet, "is only used by soul mates."
Hermione eyed the leather pouch hungrily.
"What does it mean?" she asked.
"I doubt you'll need to worry about that," Lavender said shortly.
"What did you say?" Hermione looked up abruptly, rage filling her chest.
"I meant," Lavender's voice oozed professional niceness, "that soul mates are exceedingly rare."
Hermione glanced back down at the leather pouch, her curiosity piqued.
"Hermione," Ron said, his voice full of warning, "you don't need to know that now. Really, you don't."
"Why not, Ronald?" Hermione said, her eyes narrowing. "It's terribly romantic, if you ask me."
"Well, you've got the terrible part right, at least," Ron muttered under his breath.
"What was that?" Hermione said shrilly.
"Are you two sure you wouldn't rather reschedule?" Lavender said awkwardly.
"NO!" Ron and Hermione shouted together.
"Let's get this over with!" Ron said irritably.
"Couldn't have said it better myself!" Hermione replied, slapping her wand hand down on the crystal ball.
Ron sat across from her, glowering irritably, but he placed his hand on the glass surface as well.
"Let's begin!" Lavender said, a slightly smug smile on her lips.
Lavender swished and swirled her wand, chanting in Latin until Hermione grew secretly impressed. This was the same Lavender who was more interested in boys and make-up than studying? Hermione found herself slightly more endeared towards her former classmate.
With a sound like a clap of thunder, a green cloud rolled off of the surface of the crystal ball, encircling Ron and Hermione's wrists and then built into a number of thick greenish gray storm clouds before blowing outwards in all direction with a massive cracking sound.
"Well?" Hermione said expectantly, as the smoke cleared.
"Hold hands over each item," Lavender said tiredly, pulling at a sooty strand of hair with a desolate look on her face. "The magic will do the rest."
Ron and Hermione looked at each other and shrugged. After all, they always made up after they fought. Even a fight in front of Ron's old ex-girlfriend wasn't exactly the worst row they'd ever had. They clasped hands and held them over the feather.
No reaction.
The same thing happened for the other items until…
The item encased in leather began to glow and Lavender gasped.
"You... really... are... !" she shrunk against the wall, throwing up a Shield charm.
Hermione began to feel a horrible sense of unease in her belly as she looked up at Ron, who had a very curious look in his eyes.
"Hermione, I'll be honest with you," Ron said, his voice growing deeper than she'd ever heard it. "I've never been much of a wizard, in power, in brains, or even in skill. But you… you've always had all of those things and yet you squander them by wasting away in libraries and bookstores! All of that power… gone to waste."
"Ron? You're scaring me!" Hermione cried, as he snatched the package violently.
"Didn't you say you wanted to be my soul mate?" he snarled, revealing a black, twisted dagger.
"Didn't you say that you'd do anything for me, Hermione?" he growled, rearing back. "Die for me and my power will grow tenfold!"
With a horrible snarling laugh, Ron lunged over the table at Hermione, who pushed the table at him at the same time. She ran for the door, but it was warded shut. Lavender stood behind her Shield Charm like a silent judge.
"Only one can leave the room once a soul mate has been detected," Ron said in a sing-song voice from behind Hermione. "I want this more than you do. Just let it happen, 'Mione. Just let me end you so that you can be part of me forever."
Hermione whirled, pulling out her wand.
"NEVER!" she cried, hitting him with a Full Body Bind.
Ron didn't even waver.
"Didn't you know, Her-my-oh-knee?" Ron sneered, "Spells don't work on soul mates. That's why we kill each other like Muggles instead."
Hermione glanced over at the table and the debris on the floor, looking for something she could use as a weapon.
"Time's up!" Ron screamed, lifting the knife over his head.
Hermione darted behind the table, kicking the crystal ball free from its stand and under Ron's feet.
"Aaaaargh!" Ron yelped, tripping. He tried to stop his fall with his hands, but the knife slipped and cut the side of his hand.
He screamed and grabbed his hand as he sprawled on the floor. Suddenly, Ron's blood began to turn to grayish green mist as it poured from his hand. His skin faded into mist as he was slowly sucked into the tiny ruby in the hilt of the knife.
His screams seemed to echo in the small room long after he'd disappeared.
The twisted knife lay on the floor, silent.
Lavender fell to her knees sobbing as Hermione finally stood, her body feeling like one giant bruise.
"I thought he'd kill you easily!" Lavender wailed. "Then we could be together… forever!"
"... What?" Hermione asked brokenly.
"I… he's… d… dead… I'LL KILL YOU!" Lavender shrieked, turning on Hermione with hatred flashing in her eyes.
Hermione only had moments to throw up a Shield Charm as Lavender shot an Entrail Expelling Curse at her. It rebounded, hitting Lavender squarely in the stomach. Blood shot from her mouth and poured down her thighs as she collapsed onto the floor, her eyes growing distant and unseeing.
"We'll be… to.. geth.." she sighed, breathing her last.
Hermione's eyes were wide, her mouth moving silently as she sank to the floor again, pulling the discarded tablecloth over her body like a blanket.
"At least now I know what soul mates mean in the Wizarding World," she said numbly, pulling herself into a ball and hugging herself, hoping that the tears that filled her eyes were enough to wash away the horror that filled her.