Legal Disclaimer: I own my stuff, but not the original source material. That belongs to whoever. Also, the opinions and interpretations I use here may not reflect the same in said whoever that owns the source material. Look, I'm just a poor college librarian. Suing me isn't going to get you anything but tears.

Warning: This work may be offensive to some readers. Feel free to back out if that's you.

Author's Note: I hate the idea of soulmates, but a good friend mentioned having nonromantic soulmates and my brain took off on a tangent about Narcissa just wanting to be a mother because that role is her soul's destiny. But be warned, there's heavy mention of miscarriages in here.

Submitting Info:
Stacked with: Hogwarts (Term 11); MC4A
Individual Challenges: Slytherin MC; Bow Before the Blacks; Seeds; Shipmas; Tissue Warning; Minerva's Headache; Interesting Times; Old Shoes; Themes & Things A [Love]; Feeling So Logical []; In a Flash; Yellow Ribbon; Yellow Ribbon Redux; Two Cakes!
House: Hufflepuff
Assignment No.: Term 11 – Assignment 02
Subject (Task No.): Astronomy (Task#3: Use the theme of Achille's Heel.)
Other Hogwarts Challenges: Romance Awareness [D06] (Compass Points Towards Soulmate) (Pregnancy); Insane Prompt Challenge [44] (Epitome); 365 [04] (Slave); Scavenger Hunt [88] (WC is Exactly 666); Galleon Club (Blue-Green)
Space Address (Prompt): Su Bingo [1C] (Desire)
Representation(s): Narcissa Black Malfoy
Bonus Challenges: Surprise!; Second Verse (Not a Lamp; Persistence Still; White Dress; Sneeze Weasel; Nightingale; Unwanted Advice; Lovely Coconuts); Chorus (Wabi Sabi; Peddling Pots; Tomorrow's Shade; Larger than Life)
Tertiary Bonus Challenges: HoSE (Schooner); T3 (Terse; Thimble); O3 (Olivine)
Word Count: 666

(^^)
The Issue with Soulmates
(^^)

Narcissa checked the compass that magic had inked on her arm again. As stubbornly as any hippogriff, it pointed towards the little clinic in front of her. She shuddered delicately at the thought of entering such a place. It was just so thoroughly Muggle, just the epitome of everything she had been taught to distain. The people entering and leaving the building was just as thoroughly Muggle, and strangely, the vast majority of them were women. The few men she could spot also had traces of something feminine to them, just a trace like perfume scenting the air of a room long after the wearer had left.

She didn't understand any of this, but then why did she need to? They were Muggles. They were beneath her.

Still her compass insisted that her soulmate could be found within the little clinic.

Narcissa sighed resignedly. She tugged on her silk gloves to assure herself that they were perfectly smooth. Then she did the same on the sleek dress she was wearing. The blue-green shade of it complemented her pale skin perfectly, as it should. Before she had married Lucius, she had been a Black, and Blacks deserved only the best in life as in all things. They were above such things as looking washed out because of poor choices in fashion.

'They were above curses as well,' a little voice reminded her. That was the pixie among the kneazles, wasn't it? She had believed that she was strong enough to go against the curse of marrying someone other than her soulmate. After all, Blacks did so all the time, and next to none of them had ever succumbed to the curse. Yet what else could be causing all the miscarriages? She and Lucius had been trying hard, and while she was quick to catch, she was also quick to lose.

She just wanted to be a mother. She couldn't bear to lose another one. Even more than the love she shared with her husband (and she would never admit to how relieved she was when Andromeda ran off her Muggle-born lover, which left Narcissa as the only one who could fulfill the marriage contract with the House of Malfoy), Narcissa longed for a child to fill her arms. She longed for the sleepless nights and sticky fingers, for the nagging questions and spoiled demands. Even if all she could ever have was one, she wanted to be a mother with all her being.

The needle of her compass wiggled as if it was trying to entice her to follow it. Still she hesitated. Was a child really so great a desire that she should make herself a slave to fate? What did fate know of propriety or honor? What did fate know of vows and loyalty? Why should she, a daughter of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, debase herself by acknowledging that fate might still have any power over her? She straightened her back, pulling the tattered shroud of her pride about her like an old cloak.

Then she marched into the tiny clinic as if she was going to her own beheading.

She was going to be a mother, even if it took debasing herself with a Muggle to do so.

Turns out that the answer was much better, if a bit more complicated. She had a small infection that was commonly known in the Muggle world. In combination with other issues, it was causing the issue she had been having. After gaining her diagnosis and treatment, her compass had spun madly until pointing resolutely back towards Wiltshire and home.

Within the year after her visit to the Muggle clinic, Narcissa had caught again. This time she managed to carry the babe nearly to full term. Her son was born early but healthy. He was perfect in her eyes, just as she had imagined.

She would kill for him without remorse.

Following her compass had been the best idea she had ever had.