For Lyrrie
Word Count: 414
Ginny has never liked the words written across her arm. Her brothers all have nice little sentiments, the first words they'll ever hear their soulmate speak. Ginny, on the other hand, had been born with what feels like an insult permanently on her body.
A Weasley? You have to be kidding me.
She looks at the words, scrawled across her skin in elegant scrawl, as if the pretty writing will somehow make up for the message there.
The girl across from her is staring. When Ginny looks up, she doesn't look away. Instead, she just smiles. "Mine says, 'You're a bit weird.'," she tells Ginny.
And Ginny believes it. She doesn't know the Lovegood family well, but she has heard her dad talk about them. Luna seems sweet, and she's nice enough to keep Ginny company in this compartment.
"Doesn't it bother you?" Ginny asks. "Shouldn't it be love at first sight? Instead, you know your soulmate will think you're weird."
Luna's smile broadens. "That's the beauty, isn't it? They're still my soulmate, and that means they will love me, weirdness and all." She purses her lips. "Daddy says weird isn't the right word for me. He says I'm special."
"Right, he is."
…
By the time they reach Hogsmeade Station, she's feeling more confident. Whatever reason her soulmate has for disliking her family doesn't matter. He will love her because their souls call to one another. What else is there to worry about?
"You know what? Anyone would be lucky to have me as a soulmate," Ginny says proudly.
She hears a groan in response, and she knows it isn't Luna. Instead, an older boy with white-blond hair is studying her with narrowed eyes like he can't decide if he likes what he sees.
"A Weasley?" he demands. "You have got to be kidding me." He nudges a menacing boy beside him. "With such an arrogant statement, I was surprised Pansy wasn't my soulmate."
It's then that she notices the words on his arm. Anyone would be lucky to have me as a soulmate.
As if they need more confirmation, she lifts her arm, brows raised. "A Weasley," she confirms, annoyed. "And you are?"
"Malfoy," he says. "Draco Malfoy."
Draco Malfoy. The boy Harry and Ron hate. The boy whose father fought her father in the middle of Flourish and Blotts. Of all the people in the world to be her soulmate, the universe has the audacity to choose a Malfoy.
"Well damn."
