Hey! So some people actually like my hockey story, which has motivated me. I'm putting out the next chapter of 'I Just Don't Play Quidditch' today, but I also couldn't find any finished soul mark Fremione stories so I'm writing one myself. If anyone likes it, I'll continue!
Hermione stared at the mark on her wrist. She'd been trying to figure it out since she was eleven. The mark was like a tattoo. It had been there for years on end, occasionally bursting in colour and sometimes fading to a scary shade of grey. It was a firework. A single, colourful firework. It was a small red stick in a rocket shape. Sometimes it erupted into the brightest, most vibrant colours Hermione had ever seen, flying up into the air and exploding into beautiful reds and greens and yellows. Sometimes, the original vivid red colour would drain from it completely, and it would fade to pale grey, shrinking and fainting until it became a pile of greyish gloop, the shape of the firework just barely visible. When Hermione saw the mark looking like that, she felt undeniably sad. She just wanted to fall the floor and weep. When the firework exploded, sometimes it would make her feel happy and joyful; sometimes it would make her feel angry. Rage would pulse through her, her teeth would bare, her hair would fizz up with the static electricity she was building. It was as if lava was swirling through her stomach, and screaming, cursing, punching walls was the only thing that let it pour out. If she was confused, the firework would sit very, very still, as if not wanting to interact with anyone until she'd figured whatever she was confused by out. On the odd occasion, the fireworks would jump up and explode their rich, striking colours and halfway through the ecstasy they would fizz right out and the rocket-shaped stick would begin to dart around everywhere, giving her an uneasy feeling.
Fred never really concerned himself with the strange tattoo on his ankle. It was his soul mark, he knew; wizards and witches were born with them. They represented your soulmate's very favourite thing; so they could change a lot. Fred got his when he was eleven - so he knew that that was when he'd met his soulmate. The mark fizzed and gave off a tingly sensation whenever he was near his soulmate, but it always happened when he was around lots of people, so he could never be sure who it was. Fred's mark was always large - so that meant his soulmate had a big personality. A lot of the time it was a pile of haphazardly stacked books, always fizzing and sparking. Sometimes all the books would turn red at once (a menacing, dark red - it always looked scary when that happened) and the tower of books would begin to shake. At times, the books would continue to shake and wobble - they would flash dark red to bright red - and the tower fell angrily and the books hopped around hastily, giving off an absolutely furious vibe. Fred had never known books could look so angry - seething and furious, almost betrayed - but these ones did. At other points the books would turn rainbow colours in a very specific pattern, almost giving off happy, bouncy music. Sometimes the books would wobble and shake - but not in an angry way, in a scared way, and eventually they would come crashing down, breaking their little corner of composure. When Fred saw this he wanted to cry - it was such a sorrowful sight, especially thinking that this was a person feeling that much remorse. Sometimes his mark was a quill. When his soulmate seemed to be focussed, it would scratch along, moving swiftly and quickly. Sometimes it moved angrily, as though trying to dig into his skin. Occasionally it was a piece of new, perfect parchment, which seemed to almost sigh in contentment, moving back as though it was relaxing. Once it was even a big, fluffy cat, prowling around. It was weird how all these little symbols could show true emotions, even when they were inanimate objects. Fred was honestly surprised at how he could fit with such a seemingly studious person. Sure, Fred liked to read, but short and snappy adventure books, not the monstrosities on his ankle. And besides, he far prefered to have his own adventures.
i'm quite proud of that. I hope you enjoyed it, and if you do let me know by reviewing, or favouriting, or following or whatever - just something that'll give me a notification so that I know you like it. Thanks!