~ Chapter 4: Soulmates? ~

Draco was smirking when Harry entered the Charms classroom on Monday afternoon. That was never a good sign. Harry slid into the seat next to him, the only one available, as he'd arrived with less than a minute to spare.

"Do I even want to know what you're smirking about?" he murmured as Flitwick began the day's lecture.

"Do you trust me?" Draco murmured back, sitting up straight and filling a page with his neat handwriting as Flitwick continued to speak.

"Not when you look like that," said Harry, taking out his own parchment and giving Draco's orderly page of notes a surreptitious glance.

"You wouldn't have to copy off me if you paid attention in class," Draco said haughtily as he continued to write, but he didn't try to hide his work.

"Are you even going to tell me why you need me to trust you?" Harry asked after a few minutes.

"Not during class," Draco said. "I'm working here. Stop trying to distract me." He gave Harry a severe look, the kind he often got from Hermione, but with that twinkle still in his eyes.

"No, I don't trust you one bit," said Harry.

"You wound me, Harry. You really do." Now he gazed up at Harry with big, pitiful eyes before turning back to his notes.

Beneath the desk, a hand crawled into Harry's lap, and from behind them, Ron made a funny sound and nearly jumped out of his seat. Draco cackled and moved his hand back above the desk as Flitwick turned around and said, "Is everything all right, Mr. Weasley?"

Harry bit his lips hard and swallowed a laugh. "You're terrible," he whispered once he'd gotten himself under control and Flitwick resumed his lecture.

"You're the one trying not to laugh at your best friend," Draco returned, continuing his work as if nothing had happened.

Harry started to ask once again what he was up to, but before he could, Draco said, "Meet me after class. Usual place."

"You're being really mysterious, and I don't trust you one bit," said Harry, abandoning his notes. But Draco remained closemouthed, and Harry spent the rest of class trying unsuccessfully to wheedle something out of him and wishing Flitwick hadn't chosen that day for an extended lecture on Charms theory.

When the class finally ended, he gathered up his things and went to join his friends.

"I can't believe you got stuck with Malfoy again," Ron said sympathetically. "I saw him trying to grope you in class. What a creep!"

"That's the third time this week you've forgotten something," Hermione said, with considerably less sympathy. "If you got to class on time, you'd get to choose your seating partner."

"You have been awfully forgetful lately," said Ron. "Maybe you should ask Neville if you can borrow his Remembrall."

Harry laughed. "Hey, I need to go use the loo," he said. "I'll meet you downstairs."

"Don't take too long," Ron called after him as they separated. "I heard we're having roast beef tonight."

Harry headed through the halls, away from his friends, but instead of stopping at the bathroom, he turned down an empty hallway and ducked into a classroom that hadn't been used all year. Not for any official purpose, anyway.

"Are you going to tell me what this is all about now?" he asked as he closed the door behind him.

"It's not very polite to just burst into a room and start making demands," Draco said from his spot on the teacher's desk. "People might think you were raised by Muggles."

Harry folded his arms and glared.

"So, I had Arithmancy this morning," Draco said, looking unconcerned. "It's really a fascinating subject, shame you don't take it."

"Okay, if that's all you wanted to talk about, I'm missing dinner," said Harry, trying to hurry him along.

"We were learning about ancient forms of soul magic," Draco went on. "It's a bit like Divination — witches and wizards used to cast spells that were supposed to show them their destiny. What they would do, where they'd live, who they'd marry, things like that."

Harry's stomach rumbled, expressing his current mood more than words could, so he simply gave Draco a pointed look.

Draco smirked. "They would claim that your destiny would naturally reveal itself in time, but most got impatient and started casting spells to hurry up the process. Of course, nobody really does that anymore, but a lot of people still believe in naturally occurring soul magic. Mostly, people will claim their soulmate's name appears somewhere on their body. I mean, there's nothing that proves it's not true, so they usually just go along with it."

"Okay . . . " Harry said, trying to figure out where Draco was going with this. "And what does that have to do with me trusting you?"

Draco grinned at him. It really didn't help with Harry's suspicion. "If my name were to appear, say, on your arm or something, your friends might think it's natural soul magic, and that we're soulmates. Weasley will probably believe it, anyway."

Harry frowned. "I don't know why you need me to trust you for that," he said.

"So you're saying you have no problem with me casting a charm on you?" said Draco, his eyes sparkling. "Something that's intended to leave a mark?"

Harry thought for a minute. He'd certainly trusted Draco with more than he ever could've predicted since they'd started dating. "I guess? That big grin on your face isn't exactly helping, though." He held out his arm tentatively. "What do I have to do?"

"Just hold still." Draco pointed his wand at Harry's arm and swished it around, his lips moving just a bit as he cast a nonverbal charm. Then he put his wand away and smiled at Harry. "There, all done."

Harry didn't feel anything, but there was still a hint of mischief in Draco's eyes that he found mildly disturbing. He looked down at his arm. "I don't see anything. How do you know it worked?"

"It should show up in about half an hour, during dinner," said Draco. "I thought the delayed reaction might get your friends' attention better."

"O—kay," Harry said as he moved towards the door. "So, what is it supposed to look like? Will it be permanent? How big is it going to be?" He was beginning to regret having agreed to this so quickly.

"It'll just be my name," Draco said, looking more mischievous than ever. "And I can undo it later if you like, though maybe not right away. You don't want your friends to get suspicious."

"I'm suspicious," Harry grumbled, but Draco merely laughed as they left the room and went their separate ways.

I really hope he knows what he's doing, Harry thought as he hurried down to the Great Hall for dinner.

Dinner was about half over when Harry felt an itchy tingling near the inside of his wrist. He scratched it absently, Draco's spell already half-forgotten.

"What's that on your wrist?" Ginny asked, and Harry slid up his sleeve a bit to reveal the words, Draco Malfoy.

"Well, isn't that odd," he said, wishing he wasn't such a terrible liar. He frowned as he realized there was more to the "soulmark" above Draco's name, and pushed his sleeve up even higher, uncovering the words, Property of Draco Malfoy.

"Mate, why do you have Malfoy's name on your wrist?" Ron asked, sounding panicked, but Harry barely heard it as he raised his head to give Draco a death glare.

Draco, who didn't appear concerned in the least, managed to compose his laughter just long enough to blow kisses at Harry.

"It looks like a soulmark," someone was saying, but Harry was too busy trying not to look like he wanted to throttle his boyfriend to pay attention. At least Draco's plan was working.

Hermione snorted. "Soulmarks are just an old superstition," she declared. "Malfoy probably cast that himself just to make you look bad."

"I dunno, 'Mione," said Ron before Harry could interject. "My grandparents had soulmarks of each other's names, and Dad always says they had the happiest marriage he's ever seen." Beside him, Ginny was nodding in agreement.

"It seems plausible," Harry said, hoping to steer the conversation in the right direction. "What's a soulmark?"

"Hundreds of years ago, people used to believe that your soulmate's name would one day appear somewhere on your body," Hermione said. Both her derisive tone and the sour look on her face clearly indicated her opinion of that idea. "It's obviously nonsense. Anyone can just cast a spell to make their name appear on whoever they fancy. What I want to know is, was there any time today when Malfoy had a clear shot at your arm?"

"Why would Malfoy cast a fake soulmark on my arm?" said Harry with a sinking heart. "Are you saying you think he fancies me?" He tried to look hopeful, as if he wanted Draco to be in love with him.

"Isn't it obvious? He wants to make a fool of you, of course," said Hermione.

"I don't know, I mean, it could be real." Harry cast a despairing look across the room at Draco.

"Well, I still believe soulmarks are real, but this is Malfoy," said Ron. "I wouldn't put anything past him."

"Maybe Harry's right," Ginny piped up. "Maybe Malfoy fancies him." Ron gave her a disgusted look, but she just giggled.

"What's that on your arm, Draco?" Parkinson said in a carrying voice. The volume in the Great Hall immediately lowered as the closest Slytherins leaned in to look at Draco's wrist. "Is that . . . Potter's name?"

An excited buzz began to fill the Great Hall, drowning out Draco's response. Harry could hear snippets of conversation all around him.

"Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy are soulmates?"

"Well, they do have a lot of chemistry. Remember the Kiss Cam?"

"What's the big deal? I've been saying this for ages."

Across the table, Hermione scoffed loudly, bringing Harry's attention back to his friends. "So he cast the spell on himself, too. That's even easier than trying to get at your arm."

"I don't know, Hermione," Harry said desperately. "When would he have had the chance? I think I would've noticed him pointing his wand at me."

"You're not the most careful person in the world, mate," Ron told him. "I mean, it's a lot more likely than Malfoy being your soulmate."

"Be reasonable, Harry," Hermione said. "What's more realistic — that Malfoy's your soulmate or that he's out to get you?"

Beside her, Ron nodded sagely at Harry, who slumped in his seat and picked at the remains of his meal. His hands clenched with the sudden urge to rip his hair out. He'd always known that getting his friends to accept his relationship with Draco wouldn't be easy, but he hadn't expected them to refuse to believe it outright. And he was starting to run out of ideas to convince them.

We'll think of something, he tried to console himself. They can't be in denial forever, can they?

But he was beginning to think maybe they could.

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