The Soul Truth
Author's Note: Originally published on September 5, 2021
The ornate doors slid open and Hermione stepped out of the lift, her shoes clacking on the stone floor as she walked forward, head held high but movements stiff. She quickly found that it was best to give off a strong, confident air as she met with various ministries in her new capacity.
She hadn't been in this part of the Ministry often and it was quite unfamiliar to her. All the more reason to keep her guard up.
"Greetings, Minister Granger-Weasley. Congratulations on your victory."
A wizened old man in heavy, dark robes welcomed her, limping forward and holding out a shaky gnarled hand. She took it and met his eyes, which were still sharp—despite his advanced age. A playful twinkle shone out from them, reminding her immediately of Dumbledore.
"Thank you."
He gave her a smile. "Welcome to Archive floor of the Department of Mysteries."
She looked around the cavernous space, taking everything in. She could practically feel the hum of ancient magic reverberating around the walls.
"And you are?"
"I am the Archivist."
"Oh, I meant your name."
He chuckled. "We don't use our given names in this department, just our titles. There is great power in names, as you no doubt know, and we don't want that to interfere with the work we are doing here."
"What should I call you?"
He thought for a moment, before looking up at her. "For today, you can call me… Dave."
She immediately relaxed and shook her head, her face incredulous. "Why Dave?"
"Ah, you see, the power of names. By picking something so simple and informal, your posture and tone changed completely. Had I picked something more formal, you would have responded in kind."
She smiled, immediately taking a liking to the mysterious old man. "Lead the way, Dave. I was told I would be receiving the grand tour."
The two walked slowly through the vast archives, the various rooms and chambers full of different experiments, mystical objects, and parchments.
"Where is everyone?" Hermione stopped to ask, noticing that they hadn't seen a single person, Unspeakable or otherwise, as she was shown around.
"Some of our greatest breakthroughs happen in the early morning or late evening. We encourage our members to work when it best suits them." He squinted at a battered gold watch that seemed to weigh heavily on his wrist. "Yes, 3:00 PM is usually the quietest time of the day down here."
"I see. I do some of my best work at odd times as well."
He nodded sagely. "The quiet mind is often the clearest."
They continued touring through, until they came to a small door tucked behind several suits of armour. It was so old and dark that Hermione wouldn't have even noticed it, had Dave not mentioned it.
"Most Ministers of Magic I've worked with seem to be worried about other objects down here that might help them, but I have something interesting which I think you'll appreciate."
He fished out a small key from within the folds in his robes and turned it in the lock. The heavy door creaked open to reveal a closet-sized space with a single pedestal. On top of it sat a thin, aged book.
"It's my understanding that you are an avid reader, Minister."
"Yes, how did you know?"
"It's my job to know," he added gravely, watching her eyes narrow. He waved his hand dismissively, grinning again. "No, no, I'm only joking. I happened to share a lift with Auror Weasley one Monday morning, and while I didn't mean to eavesdrop, he was complaining quite loudly to Auror Potter that he missed you, because you had your nose stuck in a book all weekend. I mean no offense, of course."
She blushed and rolled her eyes affectionately. "That sounds like Ron alright."
"That's why I thought this might be of interest to you," he continued, gesturing to the pedestal.
She couldn't help but be intrigued as she stared down at the frail old book, her voice dipping down to a whisper of reverence. "What is it?"
"It's called The Book of Souls—though it's just a single parchment. Yet, it's the most dangerous object down here."
Hermione stared at it, her face a mask of awe. "How so?"
"Legend has it that the parchment was created by a powerful young witch, who was being courted by a prince. She wasn't sure if he was her soulmate, for she sensed a darkness in him, so she invoked some very ancient magic to help reveal the truth."
"It worked?"
"Indeed, it did. The parchment was charmed to reveal a small note, riddle, and sometimes even a name to the reader, one that would help them understand who their soulmate was. Unfortunately for that witch, her soulmate was most decidedly not the prince. She rejected his proposal, and as was the case back then, disappeared under mysterious circumstances soon after."
"That's terrible. Then what happened?"
"As the story goes, rumour spread about the witch's parchment, and as with most powerful objects, the lure of it drew out many seekers. Though the object was made with good intentions, it soon led to a trail of darkness and bloodshed. Broken families, obsessions, blackmail, jealousy, and even death. Knowing that kind of unshakeable truth proved to be a valuable commodity, or a lifetime of heartbreak for those unable to meet their soulmate."
Hermione nodded. It sounded very much like the Elder Wand, but more subtle and insidious. One thing was puzzling her though. "I've never heard of this before, and I've studied many books about souls, both ancient and dark."
"Once the Ministry recovered it, they deemed it was too dangerous for this information to be out there, so they've removed all known references to it. Those who had known of it died off, and it was forgotten from memory."
"When was this?"
"Centuries ago. However, as Minister, you are privileged to learn certain pieces of information that the general population is not privy to."
"Fascinating," Hermione replied. She watched as he slowly reached a hand toward the weathered book. "Wait! What are you doing?"
"Every so often I check to make sure it's still under the cover, and since we're already in here, I hope you don't mind."
"Not at all. Does… does that mean you've looked at it?"
"Oh no, never. I always look away, as should you."
He lifted the corner for a second, and try as she might, Hermione couldn't help but open her eyes to see a word of blazing red ink, before he shut the cover again. Hermione felt the blood drain from her face, unable to comprehend the word she saw so very briefly.
"No, it couldn't be."
"What was that Minister? Did you say something?"
Hermione shook her head.
"Everything seems to be in order here. Shall we continue?"
Hermione nodded mutely, the word still burned in her thoughts.
She cancelled the rest of her meetings and went straight home after finishing with Dave, or whatever his real name was, needing time to collect her thoughts. How could she tell Ron, the love of her life, what she had seen?
She sat at their dining table, absentmindedly stirring a soothing cup of tea when he walked in.
"Hermione, I'm home."
He came bounding into the kitchen, a piece of parchment in each hand and a wide smile on his face. "Look, the kids wrote. Hugo promises he's already started studying for O.W.L.s, and Rosie is nervous, but excited, to captain her first match against Ravenclaw next week."
"That's great," she replied, her voice a dull monotone.
"They even said their classmates think it's cool that you were elected as the youngest Minister of Magic in history."
"Hmm."
Ron looked at her and frowned. "What's wrong? Tough day?"
Hermione pulled out the chair next to her and patted it. "Come sit down."
Ron scrutinized her again. "The last time you did that, it was to tell me you were pregnant with Hugo. Are you pregnant?"
She sighed. "No, please just come here, I need to tell you something, and I don't think you're going to like it."
He sat down, unsure of what was coming. She quickly told him about the Archivist, the tour, and the Book of Souls, before swearing him to secrecy.
"You saw something when he lifted the cover, didn't you?"
She nodded sadly. "I saw a word."
"What did it say?"
"I-I don't want to tell you."
"Why not?"
"Because it's not true. Whatever it says, it's not true."
"C'mon Hermione, please tell me."
"It said… Krum."
Ron let out a laugh. "Oh, is that all?"
"What do you mean? Viktor Krum is my soulmate, and that's all you have to say!?"
"What do you want me to say?"
"That you're upset, that you care that I was destined to be with Viktor."
"Destined? We have two beautiful kids, an amazing family, and great careers. I don't care what some ruddy old book says, the charms are probably wonky anyway." He pointed to his chest. "I know that I love you with all of my heart, and you feel the same."
She slid into his lap and threw her arms around his neck. "I do, you know I do… but…but…"
"What?"
She suddenly burst into tears, burying her head in his neck as she sobbed. "I-I always had this idea in my head that we were real soulmates, if such a thing existed. We met when we were so young, and I've only truly ever loved you. I know it's silly, but I hate that it's not true. I didn't even like Viktor that much."
Ron ran his fingers through her hair and rubbed her back comfortingly. "Maybe it was a mistake or something. You said yourself you only saw one word."
Her breathing started calming down. "I-I suppose that's true."
"We know what happens when a charm or prophecy is misinterpreted."
She sniffled. "It would be nice to know."
Ron gave her a squeeze. "Maybe we should sneak in there tomorrow and take a look."
"We can't just sneak in there! I'm the Minister of Magic! Besides, there was a key to get into the room. I don't know how we're going to get it from the Archivist."
"You're the Minister of Magic. I'm sure you could come up with some reason to be there."
She gave him a dirty look. "I'm not abusing my position like that."
"I don't mind abusing my position, as you put it. Maybe I can say I'm researching something for a case."
"No, Ron. What if you get in trouble?"
"Who am I going to get in trouble with? Harry? You?"
"That's not the point. We swore we'd never take advantage of our roles for our own gain."
He sighed. "Fine, you're right. Sneaking in it is, then. It'll be like the good old days! A secret mission, breaking into places we have no business being in. An ill-formed plan. It'll be fun."
She smacked him on the arm. "Those days were terrible."
"Aren't you curious though, to find out the truth?"
"Of course I want to know the truth! I don't want to go through the rest of my life thinking Viktor was my soulmate, when it's clearly you."
"As sweet as that is, we clearly only have one choice."
Hermione shook her head. "Fine."
"Good, things like this are much easier when you're agreeable to them," he smirked, nudging her playfully. "You said 3:00 PM was when it was empty, right? Meet me in my office tomorrow at 2:55 PM, and we'll head down there. I'll just tell Harry we're going to a broom closet or something."
"Ron!" Hermione screeched. "You'll do no such thing."
"It's perfectly plausible. It's not like we haven't done that before."
She blushed, unable to count the number of times they'd had fun at the Ministry. "Alright, fine. 2:55PM at your office."
"Good. Now, I'm starving. I'll whip up one of your favourites. I bet I'm a better cook than ol' Vicky. What do Bulgarians even eat?"
"Not funny, Ron."
The next afternoon, Hermione was found pacing in front of Ron and Harry's office, much to the fear of the recruits who were stationed outside the door. It wasn't often the Minister of Magic would show up unannounced, muttering under their breath.
The door swung open and Ron sauntered out, his lips upturned in a smug smile. Harry's face had gone a shade of green from what he'd just heard from his best mate.
"Hi, er, Hermione," Harry greeted her awkwardly. "You two… um… have fun."
Mortified, Hermione could only return a quick wave before grabbing Ron's arm, hauling him toward the lifts before she was forced into any further interactions with Harry.
"I honestly can't believe you told him we were going to go shag."
"I literally told you I was going to say that."
"I didn't think you actually meant it." She let out an exasperated snort and pinched the bridge of her nose as they entered the lift. "What's the plan?"
"Plan?"
"You are the Head Strategist of the Auror department. Surely you must have thought of something!"
Ron shrugged his shoulders and grinned. "We'll make it up as we go. Seems to work best for us."
"I don't like this one bit."
The ding of the bell signalled they had arrived.
Ron clasped her hand, their fingers entwining. "Let's do this."
The doors opened and they were greeted with utter silence. It was as if the entire floor was abandoned, which it likely was.
They crept forward, trying to make as little noise as possible before finally reaching the same spot she had been the previous day.
Hermione turned the handle of the door, and to her surprise, it was unlocked.
"Hey, look at that!" Ron exclaimed loudly.
"Ron," she hissed. "Keep on the lookout."
He nodded and stood in front of the armour blocking the door, ensuring that Hermione couldn't be seen, in case they were interrupted.
Hermione took a deep breath, her heart pounding. Whatever it said under the cover wouldn't change anything between herself and Ron, but she needed to know for sure.
Her fingers paused for a second, lightly gripping the frail corner, her body tense. She delicately opened the book, the bright red ink bursting into view, almost glowing in the small, dark chamber.
Her greedy eyes flew over the words that were revealed.
"I knew it," she whispered.
Ron suddenly poked his head in. "Everything alright?"
"Perfect. Everything's perfect and wonderful!" Her giddiness couldn't be contained as she closed the ancient text.
"I guess this means you aren't going to chuck me?"
"Never."
"What's it say?"
Her pink cheeks were starting to hurt from her wide grin. "Your soulmate will first love, then hate, a Mr. Viktor Krum."
"That confirms it. See, nothing to worry about."
"Oh Ron, I'm so relieved. I knew it couldn't be true. This whole thing is ridiculous, but I'm still glad to know it's always been you."
Ron nodded. "Me too."
"We should leave before we get caught."
"Not so fast, it's my turn now."
"What?" Hermione asked sharply. "What do you mean?"
He shrugged. "Might as well take a look while I'm here."
Hermione stepped back, biting at her bottom lip—a sure sign of anxiety. "But… but… what if—"
Ron cupped her cheeks in his large hands and gently kissed her. "It doesn't matter what it says, I love you and only you. Trust me."
She nodded, before resuming his place as the lookout.
After a moment, she heard him chuckle and close the door behind him.
Hermione whispered urgently. "What did it say?"
"It said my soulmate will be a nightmare."
Hermione let out the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "Thank goodness. I don't think I would've been able to handle it if it wasn't me."
"It's always been you. I thought you'd have learned by now."
"I know, I never should have doubted it."
"Can you imagine if we'd learned this information when we were younger? We might have been able to get together much sooner," Ron remarked.
"Or we'd have made an even bigger mess of things."
"True. It doesn't matter in the end though, does it? We figured it out and we've done pretty damn well for ourselves."
"We have, Ron. I love you."
"Love you, too. We'd better get out of here before someone sees us."
The two quickly retreated to the lift, having successfully completed their mission. A minute after the doors had shut on the snogging couple, an old man slowly made his way toward the chamber and pulled a small key out of his robes, locking the heavy door.
As it's appointed guardian, he had vowed to never look in the book, and he had kept that oath. That didn't mean he couldn't use it's power in other ways. Past Ministers, those inquisitive few who had the intelligence to understand the book's worth, often revealed something in that moment when he checked the parchment, for good or ill. Usually it mattered little to him, but not in this case.
He paused for a moment, before extracting a small glass sphere from the same pocket as the key. A sphere he'd kept with him for many years, since he was a young man working with prophecies in the Department of Mysteries. Knowing Minister Granger-Weasley was coming to take a tour was the perfect opportunity to solve a mystery he'd been researching for the better part of seven decades.
He held it up to the light, the familiar swirls of mist dancing in the globe. He had long since memorized the prophecy, which had been made by a seer almost a hundred years earlier. His colleagues at the time had dismissed it, because like many visions, it was almost impossible to determine what the seer was referring to.
He had kept this one, for it always gave him hope. He never thought he'd actually solve it. Yet here he was, still alive and able to record this last surviving prophecy in the annals of history.
He turned it over in his hands, the glass still unblemished.
"Magic," he whispered, "such a wonderful tool."
He stared at it again, reciting for the last time the fates encompassed within.
"Two soulmates, brown and orange, will form a triangle with black to defeat evil. Through many trials the two will forge a love so strong it will be unbreakable, and their strength will reshape the world."
He let out a final chuckle, his long-held desire now confirmed by the soulmates themselves. He lifted the glass to his lips, his breath fogging up the shiny surface.
"Prophecy fulfilled."
The sphere melted away into nothing, the outcome recorded somewhere else in the archives. He shuffled away back to his office, his eyes sparkling, and his heart lifted with hope.