Author's note
Round 12
Seeker prompt: Your soulmate's name is printed on your wrist.
Beta's: CupCakeyyy, S.L.Blake
Summary: All he really wanted was a normal year at Hogwarts, but when his arm went up in figurative flames one midnight, that wish went down the drain pretty fast.
During the summer of Harry's sixteenth birthday, it was unbearably hot weather for July in Surrey, England. The heatwave was one of the hottest on record, and Harry found himself spending most of his time at the underground, not going anywhere, just avoiding Dudley and his gang. Even now, Dudley wouldn't leave him alone. So, finding somewhere else to hide—well, not hide as it turned out—actually happened to be a good idea. But he'd get to that point later.
His birthday, as usual, was just another day for the Dursleys. The night before, they watched TV, while Harry was up in his room writing letters to his friends. Hedwig had gone flying earlier, and she hadn't come back, which he was concerned about as it was quarter to twelve at night. He had been struggling to sleep, nightmares had tortured him more and more as the summer went on and he was used to only getting three hours of sleep if he was lucky. Had he told anyone about this? No, he didn't want to. He didn't want to trouble his friends, they had more to worry about, than him not getting enough sleep.
Harry wasn't expecting any presents, but he left his window open, just in case. Sighing, he put his letter in his drawer along with his quill, any sight of magic in use and Uncle Vernon would take it away. He couldn't be caught with that, even if he would be turning sixteen just a couple of minutes later, he didn't want to risk it. Harry got ready for bed slowly, and collapsed on top of it a few moments later, not even moving the covers out of the way.
Not long now, and he'd be back at Hogwarts. It was the thought that kept him going all summer. He'd been counting down the days. Although, he really wasn't sure if he wanted to return, with what he went through last year… He bit his lip as he tossed and turned on the mattress. Harry didn't want to close his eyes. He would see Sirius falling through the veil again. He saw him in his waking hours; the darkness and silence of the night only brought his godfather back more vividly. He'd see Cedric's body lying on the floor, broken, cold…
Dead.
Unfortunately, sleep was overpowering his desire to stay awake, and, without being able to do anything against it, his eyes fluttered closed. After what could have only been a couple of minutes of rest, his left arm flared up in intense pain, causing his eyes to fly open. It felt as if his skin was on fire. He gasped, and tried not to scream out from the agony of it, desperately clawing at his arm as he hit his mattress.
His breathing came irregularly and harsh whilst his heartbeat picked up in speed. The burn lasted for a few minutes at least, although it felt like forever, all the while Harry kept his eyes tightly shut. Tears leaked out between his lashes as he ground his teeth, still fighting against the urge to scream.
And then, the pain stopped. Just like that. As if nothing had happened.
Still panting and feeling as if he'd just outrun a Dementor, Harry blinked open his eyes. He forced his lungs to cooperate and his heart to calm down before he cautiously checked his left arm. A gasp escaped him and his eyes widened with shock. There, just below his elbow, in slanted, small writing was a name.
"I need some fresh air," Harry mumbled softly.
If he'd taken time to look at his friends, he would have seen the look of worry and confliction on Hermione's face, but he only registered Ron nodding as he left the compartment. It felt like the walls were closing in on him, and the temperature in the compartment was like the heatwave all over again, only it wasn't. It was actually quite cold with the air con turned to the maximum. His friends were acting like normal, and neither of them had mentioned a name appearing on their arms. Harry would have thought that something like that would have been worthy of a conversation, after all these years. They, of all people, knew just how little he actually understood about the wizarding world, no matter how long he'd lived as part of it by now. So, them not mentioning anything told him that there wasn't anything to talk about.
It hadn't happened to them. Only to him. As usual.
As he made his way to the back of the train, he felt like he could breathe again. Gone was the heat and discomfort, he felt as if nothing had ever happened. Again. It wasn't the first time that this had transpired, so Harry didn't pay it any mind. Instead, his head clear enough to think again, he felt for the darkness powder that the twins had given him, and considered what he could do to get one of the Slytherins alone. He needed answers, and he needed them now! So, smirking at the thrill of what he was about to do, he picked up his pace as he held onto his invisibility cloak tightly, his fingers clutching the wispy fabric with all his might.
With a plan forming in his mind and his friends not there to stop him, he hid in one of the toilets next to the Slytherin carriage, and put on his cloak. He scratched his arm but quickly stopped when he remembered that that would remove the concealer he had used to hide said name. Aunt Petunia hadn't even noticed he had used it, and he was happy to find that the concealer had done the trick. The dark ink embedded in his skin wasn't visible anymore. That didn't conceal his memory of it, though, the stark letters weren't just engraved in his arm...
After a very uncomfortable journey of lying down on the railings where the suitcases were usually placed, they had finally arrived in Hogsmeade. His heart was beating heavily as he watched Dra… Malfoy waiting for everyone to leave, and he was surprised when the blond stayed on his seat, not moving to get up and follow his classmates.
"You can show yourself now, Potter."
Harry frowned. How did Malfoy know he was there? He didn't think too much about that as he sat opposite the Slytherin. He then took a proper look at Malfoy. The blond looked tired... and different. In a way Harry didn't know how to describe. But he couldn't wait any longer, his curiosity had been eating away at him ever since his birthday.
"Alright, tell me," Harry started, and ignored Malfoy's raised eyebrows. "Why is your name tattooed on my arm? What did you do?"
Harry wasn't expecting Malfoy to laugh and he wasn't expecting his own body's reaction to it. It sounded honest, not fake at all, as if the Slytherin was generally amused. It was actually quite nice to hear him laughing, although Harry wasn't entirely sure what to make of that. He watched as Malfoy leaned forward, breaking his ram-rod straight posture as he placed his elbows on the table. He clasped his hands together with that stupid smirk on his face that did things to the Gryffindor's belly that he had never really felt before, which freaked him out even more.
"You're telling me the famous Harry Potter doesn't know about soulmates? No one told you, not once? That's perfect… just perfect." Malfoy sneered, clearly enjoying this, and Harry's eyes widened in shock.
Soulmates? What was Malfoy wittering on about now? Did this have anything to do with why he'd been roaming around Borgin and Burkes? To discuss a new plan that involved his new tattoo? He didn't understand, and if he was completely honest with himself, he wasn't even sure whether that made any sense, and if there was anything that Harry truly hated, it was not having a clue what Malfoy was on about.
Or up to, that was.
"You're telling me that you believe in soulmates?" Harry questioned, forcing a laugh. "What will you be telling me next?" he asked rhetorically, ignoring Malfoy for a moment. "That all of the Muggle tales are actually real and Rapunzel is sitting in a tower in some random forest waiting for her prince to save her?"
A hesitant laugh escaped him, but quickly all humour left and only desperation stayed in his mind. Harry sat back in his seat with a big huff, and ran a hand through his hair frustratedly, groaning. He didn't know what to think, although he knew one thing. He was going to ask Hermione what Malfoy was on about when he next saw her. Maybe she would tell him what was going on.
"It's pretty stupid that you don't believe in soulmates," Malfoy retorted, ignoring Harry's mention of Muggles and Harry rolled his eyes. He didn't have time for this, whatever Malfoy was playing at, he didn't believe it. Out of everyone, his enemy's name was permanently written on his arm.
"Whatever, I don't have time for your lies, Malfoy," Harry told him and Malfoy laughed, shaking his head, and if it were anyone else, Harry could have sworn he saw a smile sneak onto that pale face. But he quickly dismissed that, seeing as it was Malfoy he was with.
Just as Harry was about to leave, he felt a hand grab his own, pulling him back. Malfoy's hand was warm, and Harry couldn't help but think it felt right to have it in his, as much as he didn't want to believe a word the blond had said. Maybe he wasn't lying… Harry didn't have much time to think about that, when he saw a clenched fist heading towards his face.
"Sorry, love," Harry heard the other's silky voice say as he fell to the ground. Having been taken completely off guard, he winced, hiding the pain. "We have to keep up appearances."
He watched as Malfoy covered him with the invisibility cloak, and couldn't take his eyes off of him as the blond crouched down next to where Harry was lying. "Meet me in the alcove underneath the vacant staircase leading to the Astronomy Tower, at midnight if you want to have your questions answered," Malfoy ordered before whispering in his ear, "Don't be late, Potter!"
Harry's breathing was far from steady as he watched Malfoy leave. He used his wrist to wipe the blood from his broken nose. He didn't know what to make of any of what he had just been told. Did any of it even make sense? So when, after what seemed like an eternity, he heard the carriage door open once more, only one thought stood out the most.
He wasn't ever going to have a quiet year at Hogwarts… was he?