Wigtown Wanderers, Beater 2
Prompt: same romantic pairing for Beaters (Harry/Hermione)
Additional Prompts: (color) moss green; (word count) 1991
Word Count: 1991, per GoogleDocs
Warnings: brief mentions of body changes related to Animagus process
Author's Note: just my take on a Harry/Hermione Soulmate AU. Let me know what you think!
No Objections
Hermione took a deep breath and tried to tamp down her excitement. The initial transformation required a sense of calm.
"Are you ready, Hermione?" Harry asked.
She nodded once. "Last time the form was almost perfectly clear. I know I can do it this time."
"Go on then," Ron said, grinning. "Let's see it."
Hermione settled onto her pillow on the floor and began sorting through her thoughts. She, Harry, and Ron had learned so much in the past three years as they studied to become Animagi. The process to reach the state of awareness where one could see their form required a lot of introspection, meditation, and personal growth. Hermione felt so much more in tune with herself now than when she'd begun the process.
She suspected this emotional aspect of the journey was also why she'd been able to make it to this point before Ron. She was surprised, though, that she'd beaten Harry. He'd always been the most in touch with himself, due in part to the time he'd shared headspace with Voldemort.
As her mind settled, Hermione felt the drawing room of Number Twelve around her melt away. In the empty space, a form shimmered into being. The haze around the figure dissipated completely, and Hermione mentally grinned.
As she reached out to touch the form, just as the books had instructed, Hermione saw something in the corner of her vision move. It wasn't so much an actual figure as the idea of one, nothing more than a hazy shadow just out of reach.
That wasn't right.
She wanted to investigate, but her hand had a mind of its own. Before she could blink, her fingers brushed against soft brown feathers, and Hermione felt her very bones shift.
"Bloody hell!"
Ron's screech jolted her back to reality. Hermione tried to look down at her form, but her new neck couldn't move that direction.
"It figures the one who's afraid of flying would get a form with wings," Harry muttered wryly. He conjured a mirror and bent down to let Hermione look at herself.
Hermione hooted softly and twisted her head back and forth, admiring both her sharp beak and newfound flexibility. The brown and white mottled feathers suited her, and she was pleased to see her own soft brown eyes looking back at her.
"Enough preening," said Ron. "Come back and tell us about it."
Hermione ruffled her feathers indignantly but settled back onto the pillow as best she could. With a deep breath, she urged her body to resume its natural shape.
When Hermione opened her eyes, she was back to her normal body, and her two best friends stared at her expectantly.
"Well, what was it like?" Harry asked.
She shrugged. "It felt like the book said it would. Almost like I was melting into another shape, but more solid. It was a bit uncomfortable, but I imagine I'll get used to it."
Ron smirked at her. "Will you ever get used to the flying? Owls tend to do a lot of that, you know."
"I most certainly will." Hermione sniffed. "I only hate flying now because I refuse to trust some enchanted twig to keep me in the air. My own wings are completely different."
"What else?" Harry pressed.
Hermione chewed her lip for a moment. "I thought I saw something else, right before I made the transformation. I didn't get a chance to look at it before I shifted. I'll check up on it next time, but it was probably nothing."
Harry's mouth never moved, but the smile fell from his soft, mossy eyes. "Yeah, probably nothing."
"Wanna do it again?" Ron asked excitedly.
"'Fraid not," Hermione said, yawning. "All that mental exercising has me knackered."
Ron's eyes widened. "If it wore you out, I reckon me and Harry will fall dead asleep after we change back."
Harry and Hermione glanced at each other and shared a quiet laugh at their friend's dumbfounded expression.
As tired as she was, Hermione couldn't fall asleep. The thought of the foreign shadow from her earlier transformation wouldn't leave her alone.
It hadn't felt foreign, though. It felt right, like it had just as much reason for being there as she did. It almost felt like the shape was calling to her, the way her owl form had. But that didn't make sense, either. Animagi only had one form. What was going on in her mind?
There was only one way to put her thoughts to rest.
Hermione grabbed her dressing robe and Apparated to the front step of Number Twelve. She padded softly up the stairs, grateful that Harry had adjusted the wards to allow Ron and her free run of the old mansion.
She ducked into the Black family library and breathed deeply, smiling as she did. The millennia of knowledge this room held was palpable. Hermione strode to the table littered with their Animagus notes, grabbed a book, and settled into her chair. It was going to be a long night.
If she hadn't been looking for it, Hermione would have missed it completely. She had been staring at old, faded book pages for far too long when something made her reread a paragraph before glancing down at the footnote. Her eyes widened, and she felt her heart race as she ran her fingers across the text.
In the rarest of circumstances, an Animagus may see an unfamiliar figure, a second presence in their mental space during the first transformation. In this case, the Animagus should make careful note of the figure's identity. When taking into consideration the inseparable nature of one's soul and Animagus form, it will come as no surprise that such a presence can indicate that the Animagus' Soulmate is also an Animagus. Due to the connection of souls, these two Animagi will also experience a connection between Animagus forms, and one half of the pair is often able to shift into their Soulmate's Animagus form, and vice versa.
Hermione sat back and fought to draw a breath. She had a soulmate. And they were an Animagus, too.
When she tried to look at the situation objectively, she found nothing wrong with the idea. Hermione had no objection to having a soulmate in theory. But her circle of friends and family was small, and she liked it that way. The idea of having another person out there with whom she would be expected to instantly connect on a soul deep level was both intimidating and off-putting.
Hermione shook herself. She wouldn't think of that now. Now was the time for research, for fact gathering and unprejudiced analysis.
Slamming the book shut, she sat back in her chair and cleared her mind. As the library drifted away, Hermione felt the presence of her tawny owl right in front of her, and her instincts called for her to reach out and meld with the bird. Instead, Hermione forced herself to look away.
She searched for the shadowy figure from before, and it was nowhere in sight. That didn't matter. Hermione felt its presence behind her, and despite the unfamiliarity of the situation, she felt no fear. She turned to see a large, black dog—a German Shepherd, perhaps?—sitting at her feet. Interesting.
Slowly, Hermione reached out to touch it.
The dog backed away. It didn't look frightened; rather, it looked a bit sad, as though it wanted Hermione but wasn't allowed the luxury. She followed it across the empty space, but the dog continued to step backward. Eventually, it disappeared into nothing.
Hermione screeched in frustration, and she felt herself slip from the Animagus head space.
When she returned to herself, she was completely and utterly spent. The last thing she registered as she drifted off to sleep was the soft, ancient page under her cheek.
"Hermione. Hermione."
She jerked awake. "I'm here! I'm awake!"
Through bleary eyes, Hermione could see Harry's shoulders shake as he laughed at her.
"This is like Fifth Year all over again," he teased, gesturing to the pile of books that had become her pillow.
"Shut it," she retorted, rolling her eyes. "I was just doing a bit of research last night, and apparently time got away from me."
Harry chuckled softly. "Of course you were. Find anything interesting?"
Hermione watched as he looked at the book now in her hands and then paled.
"Harry, are you alright?"
"You figured it out then."
She felt her jaw clench. It was too early for this. She could deal with this later. "I don't know what you're talking about."
He raised one eyebrow at her. "Don't play dumb, Hermione. It doesn't suit you."
A long moment of silence stretched between them, deep and chasm-like.
"Fine," she said, the words spilling over her lips. "I have a soulmate. Big deal. I don't know who they are, and I'm not going to go looking for them."
"I figured as much," he said softly. His eyes held that same sadness as they had last night, the one she didn't quite understand. Harry was a bit of a romantic. Perhaps he was just upset that she might be tossing away her chance at the deepest, truest kind of love.
"It's not that I mind the idea of a soulmate," she explained quickly. "I just don't want to meet this person and have everyone expect me to fall in love with them immediately. I want to know a person before I let myself love them."
Some of the light returned to Harry's eyes. "So that's what you're worried about—the idea that you'll be expected to love someone without really knowing them?"
Hermione nodded. "You know I'm not the kind of person to leap without looking. My head has to be on board with my heart."
"I know that," Harry said, his lips tugging up at the corners. "But I also know that sometimes your heart is the one that makes your head see sense. Can you please sit down?"
"What?"
"Sit. In the chair behind you is fine."
Hermione did as he asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.
Harry stood in front of her and took a deep, steadying breath, as if steeling himself for what was to come. A moment later, his body squished and twisted into the shape of a large black German Shepherd.
"You," Hermione breathed, sliding back in her chair. The shock was too great. Her once-brilliant mind couldn't come up with any other response.
The dog nodded its head, then the figure shifted back to Harry's tall form. He immediately hit his knees and took her hands in his.
"Don't talk, just listen. I managed the transformation last week. I know I should've told you, but I saw your owl. I came back here to see if the books said anything about that, and I read exactly what you did last night. I'll admit, I was surprised at first. Then I thought about it, and I realized that it all makes perfect sense. We've loved each other a very long time, Hermione Granger. You know my soul, inside and out, and I know yours just the same. This is just a manifestation of what the universe has always known. We were just a little slow on the uptake."
He gulped and stared anxiously at her with those moss green eyes.
Hermione stopped herself. Everyone knew Harry's eyes were emerald green. But when she looked again, the color was soft and warm. They weren't hard, glinting gems, the way they were when Harry fought. They weren't the bright, clear bottle green Hermione had come to associate with Quidditch matches and flying in general. This color, she now recognized, was one reserved just for her. The soft, warm moss green held the promise of unwavering trust, support, and love. That color was like home.
How could she have been so blind?
Hermione squeezed his hands gently. "I couldn't agree more. No objections."