Hello!

This was an idea I had a long time ago for a story using the very much used soul mark cliche. However, when I began to write Far Beyond the Stars in earnest, I discarded most of my ideas since it didn't really fit what I wanted to do. Because of this, you will probably notice a lot of similarities to Far Beyond the Stars, but you don't need to read that one to read this, or vice versa. I've decided to take my notes and drafts and make something of them, and this is the result.

Happy reading!

Chapter 1- A Selfish, Willful Joke of Love

March 1970

The inspector slowly stepped into the alleyway, wand raised. "Lumos," he muttered, and a bright light engulfed the space, revealing-

"Oh, it's so marvelous," a dreamy voice sighed.

Groaning, I shut my book. I'd left the Slytherin common room in favor of my dormitory so that I could finally spend a Saturday afternoon curled up on my bed reading without being bothered, but it seemed that I was to be denied the peace and quiet I so desperately sought. Despite the fact that I didn't really have any friends, plenty of people in my house often decided to engage me in banal conversation whenever they saw me alone. It was a very obvious attempt on their part to curry favor with and get on the good side of a member of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, and one I was not amused by.

I found the entire premise that I, Andromeda Black, was better than other witches and wizards due to pureblood lineage and prestige horribly backward and antiquated, not that I could reveal such opinions to the world without consequence. Father often told my sisters and me that we stood at the top of pureblood society based on our family name alone, but I didn't believe it. How could I, when I was practically flunking Transfiguration while muggleborns, blood traitors, and half-bloods were passing the class with ease? At this rate, I was expecting to receive a T on my Transfiguration O.W.L. later this year.

Across the dormitory, Laura Rosier stood in front of her floor-length mirror, her silk blouse crumpled on the floor. Clad only in a brassiere and a skirt, she appeared to be examining her bare midriff. Whatever had captured her attention so fervently was hidden from view. Knowing that Laura would continue to sigh dreamily and fish for comments until she was acknowledged, I decided to indulge her murmurings. We weren't exactly friends, but she seemed to be a nice person- although her obsessions with boys and fashion were not anything I enjoyed talking about.

"What are you looking at, Laura?" I asked.

"My birthday was yesterday, Andie," she answered, turning to face me. "My soul mark appeared."

Just above Laura's navel was the image of an albino ferret holding a glittering round-cut diamond. The mark was about five inches across and three inches tall, and I found it quite captivating.

Only a couple weeks until you get yours, I thought to myself.

Soul marks were images that appeared on one's body when he or she turned sixteen. They purportedly indicated a person's ideal partner in life and were made up of two objects from the natural world, one representing each person. It was usually possible to determine which object belonged to each individual; in Laura's case, with her love of all things sparkly, she was almost certainly the diamond. Additionally, if a person already was acquainted with their ideal partner, they could sometimes determine who they were based on the imagery in their mark alone, even if the other party hadn't turned sixteen yet.

In theory, once one's mark appeared, they would eventually come across another person who sported an identical mark, their supposed soulmate. However, in practice, this task was borderline impossible. While there were plenty of witches and wizards who had matching soul marks, the majority of them never found their other half. All humans had them, but the expression of the mark was caused by magic. As such, it was impossible for Muggles' marks to appear under normal circumstances. Furthermore, it was impossible for a witch or wizard to meet every single other person in the magical world. A warlock in London might very well share a soul mark with a witch living in rural Ecuador, but unless one of them somehow stumbled across the other, they would never meet.

However, there was another obstacle to overcome. Soul marks could be completely unique: while it was indeed possible for a person to determine their soulmate, there was always the likelihood that the other individual would have a different mark entirely, with only one of the objects matching in appearance.

This meant that it was possible for multiple people to have the same soulmate. That very scenario had occurred at Hogwarts earlier this year. When Antonin Dolohov and Clement Gamp both received their soul marks, the pomegranates depicted on their bodies unequivocally indicated that their ideal partner was Alecto Carrow, who herself loved the fruit. When Alecto's mark appeared, however, it reflected neither Antonin's Siberian tiger nor Clement's fig leaf; the other object in the image was an unpolished hunk of marble.

With another dreamy sigh, Laura turned back to the mirror, presumably to admire her soul mark again. "Oh, I hope I find my soulmate, Andie!" she giggled, picking her blouse up off the floor. "I can just imagine it! He'll be tall, handsome, and athletic… definitely a prefect and on the Quidditch team. And he'll have blond hair and stormy eyes. He'll have a great smile to match his personality, and I'll spend tons of time running my hands all over his muscles."

"So you want your soulmate to be Ted Tonks," I said, rolling my eyes. "You're describing him precisely, and how attractive you find him… again, I might add."

"Can you really blame me, Andie?"

I decided to ignore her comment. "Setting aside the chance that he winds up sharing a mark with you-," I continued, "-which is astronomically small, you know- your parents will never accept him as a potential marriage partner. We're purebloods. He's not. You should forget this silly crush of yours before one of you gets hurt."

Laura sighed as she buttoned her now wrinkled blouse back up. "Look, Andie," she exclaimed while putting her curly brown hair up into a high ponytail. "I want to fantasize about hot guys, and Tonks is the most attractive guy in our year! I don't care that he's a mudblood, it's not like I'm going to end up married someone I like anyway!"

"You could be using that time to study for your O.W.L.s. It's much more efficient than plotting out futures that can't ever exist."

"No thanks!" she sang, casting a spell on her blouse to smooth out its wrinkles. "Daydreaming about attractive men is fun. You should try it sometime, Andie. You'll be getting your soul mark in a couple of weeks, right? I'm so excited for you! Aren't you excited?"

"Absolutely not," I replied, shutting my book. Any hope of being able to concentrate on my novel had completely vanished. I was dreading the appearance of my soul mark, and with my sixteenth birthday fast approaching, I was doing everything I could not to think about it, throwing myself into my schoolwork and prefect duties.

Soul marks were an inconvenience that I didn't need. My parents had made it abundantly clear that regardless of whatever picture appeared on my body, they would have final say over who I married. Not that I actually wanted to get married. Or if I did, I didn't want to marry someone as prejudiced and hateful as my family. Unlike them, I didn't mind muggleborns; they didn't seem to be any less magical than I was, and the more I thought about it, the less the vitriolic rhetoric and spiteful aspersions that my family and peers regularly spewed made sense. The common belief that muggleborns stole magic from Squibs was nonsensical; if that was the case, then why couldn't Squibs just steal it back? And if we were concerned about muggleborns being ignorant of wizarding culture, couldn't we just teach them about it once they began to attend Hogwarts? To me, the pervasive bigotry in the wizarding world seemed incredibly silly.

I supposed that if I had the option of marrying someone who loved me- someone who supported my goals- I'd be more inclined to daydream about marriage like Laura or my little sister. But rather than waste energy on ingratiating myself with the least awful bachelor in the limited pool of options, I focused my efforts on my studies. Perhaps if I gained acceptable employment right after graduating Hogwarts, my father would be inclined to let me work for a while instead of marrying me off right away. And perhaps if I gained a reputation as a reliable worker, I could save myself from my doomed fate of regularly hosting frivolous parties and churning out my husband's pureblood spawn.

Needless to say, that latter concern was a problem for another day.

"Just you wait, Andie," Laura giggled. "Once you get your mark, you'll be as giddy as I am!"

"Unlikely. You're being ridiculous, Laura," I replied quite loudly.

Just then, I heard the heavy footsteps of someone ascending to our dormitory. Within moments, my little sister Narcissa appeared in the doorway.

"Your dulcet tones are carrying all the way down the staircase, Andie," Narcissa smirked, pushing her light blonde hair behind her ear. "Why is Laura ridiculous this time? Regardless of the reason, I agree."

Laura pouted. "Don't be so mean to me, Cissy!" she said. "I was showing Andie my new soul mark. It's positively divine! And then I started imagining what it would be like to find the person who shares it! Anyway, want to see it, Cissy?"

My sister rolled her eyes. "I'll pass," she curtly answered. "You'd do well to stop fantasizing about things that can't happen, Laura."

"Bloody Salazar, you two are no fun at all!" Laura grumbled. She took one last look at herself in her mirror and adjusted her blouse before pushing past Cissy to exit the room.

I let out a long sigh and rested back against the very comfortable pillows on my bed. "Thanks for interrupting her," I mumbled. "She probably would have kept going on and on about her soul mark all day."

"My pleasure. But she's going to resume jabbering on about it once she comes back."

"Unfortunately, you're probably right. But I assume that you didn't come up here just to save me from Laura, Cissy. Did you need something from me?"

Narcissa walked over to the foot of my bed and knelt down in front of my trunk. I quickly sat up and leaned over the footboard of the bed to see what she was doing.

"It's a beautiful spring day," Cissy explained, opening my trunk. "Lucius asked me to sit with him outside, but I want to freshen up first. I'd rather not smell like dungeon mold in front of him, but I'm almost out of perfume. Can I borrow yours?"

"Of course," I smiled. "It's in the left-side pocket."

"Thanks, Andie. You're a life saver."

"I doubt that. With the way that Lucius looks at you, I think you could show up to your little date smelling like Hippogriff dung and he wouldn't care."

Narcissa scoffed at me, but I knew that what I said was true. Like most of the other boys in Slytherin, Lucius Malfoy was absolutely smitten with my sister. With her long blonde waves, clear blue eyes, and slim figure, Cissy was considered by many to be the most beautiful girl at Hogwarts, and she willingly basked in her admirers' glory, shining upon receiving their affections. She and I were opposites in that regard; I hated being the center of attention, and my mud-colored hair and eyes most definitely aided me in my attempts to remain invisible.

"Andie, do you own any perfume that isn't gardenia scented?" Cissy frowned, holding a small glass bottle up to the greenish light that filtered through the window. Outside in the lake, a school of silver fish passed by, briefly darkening the room.

"Yes, but I don't know where they are in there," I answered. "Were you looking for something specific?"

"I was hoping for something a little less strong, but it'll do for now," she replied, standing and spritzing my perfume on her wrists and neck. "You're more than welcome to join us by the lake, if you'd like."

"No thank you. I'd rather read."

"You sure? It'll save you from Laura coming back here and going on and on about her soul mark."

I slumped back onto my elbows. "It seems that all anyone can talk about these days are these silly soul marks," I lamented.

Narcissa placed my perfume back and closed my trunk. "It makes sense," she remarked, striding over to Laura's abandoned mirror to check her appearance. "Everyone in your year is turning sixteen. New soul marks are appearing all the time, and it's such good gossip when two unlikely people match, don't you think?"

"Hardly. Studying for O.W.L.s is more important than gossip, Cissy. You'll realize that next September when you're a fifth year."

Through the mirror, I could see my sister rolling her eyes. "You're incorrigible, Andie," she sighed. "It's no wonder that Mother's convinced that you won't marry well. You're not that pretty, so once you get your soul mark, you might as well see if you can match it to someone of good standing."

That idea sounded positively revolting to me. "Easy for you to say," I grumbled. "Must be nice to already know that your soulmate is Lucius Malfoy. Once your matching albino peacock feather and narcissus appears, I fully expect him to owl his father and demand he draft your betrothal contract."

Narcissa paled and turned around. "Don't say things like that," she mumbled quietly, her eyes focused on the floor. "There's no guarantee that my soul mark will match his. I'm terrified that it won't."

Personally, I thought that my sister was being absurd, but I didn't have the energy to try and convince her that her fears were unfounded. She and Lucius were practically inseparable, and even if she somehow didn't have an identical mark to his, there was no reason as to why they couldn't remain together anyway.

Cissy walked back and sat on the edge of my bed. "Ever since Bellatrix got engaged, I've been worried that I won't end up with a mark like Lucius'," she sighed. "I know it was her choice, but Bella marrying Rodolphus Lestrange seems like a mistake. Did you know that their soul marks are completely different from each other?"

Bella's soul mark was on her right forearm and depicted an asp and a cobra entwined with one another. In all honesty, I found the image creepy; my older sister already had a hobby of studying and practicing curses in her spare time, and a serpentine soul mark only made her seem even more menacing.

"No," I said, shaking my head. "I know what Bella's mark looks like, but I've never seen Rod's. Have you?"

Cissy crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Bella told me in her most recent letter that Rod's mark is of black and white rocks," she said, crinkling her nose. "It's apparently on the back of his neck, but his hair is long enough that it covers it."

"Well, that would explain why we've never seen it," I replied. "I still can't believe that Bellatrix's getting married during the Easter holiday though. Her being someone's wife is going to take some getting used to."

"I agree," Narcissa said. "I can't imagine her listening to a husband, much less running a house for one."

I shifted closer to my sister. "It seems like such a waste," I continued, fidgeting with the hem of my skirt. "Bella's so smart. She could be so much more than a simple housewife if she'd decided to get a job after-"

Narcissa glared at me, her eyes as icy and bitter as the frigid March lake water that flowed past my dormitory's windows. "We've been through this, Andie," she snapped. "I don't know why you've been having such grand delusions lately, but pureblood girls like us don't get to have jobs. Our role in society is to marry well and further our husband's pure lineage, while using our skills to help our family climb the social ladder. Why should we want to work anyway? That's why mudbloods and half-bloods exist."

"But-"

"Stop thinking about things like this," my sister said as she angrily strode toward the doorway. "Is Laura's silliness rubbing off on you or something? Get your head out of the clouds and learn to accept things the way they are. When you're ready to be a part of the real world, let me know."

With that, she stormed off, leaving me to lament my predetermined future in solitude.

Apart from The Daily Prophet reporting an attack on a Muggle village in Cornwall, the rest of the weekend passed by uneventfully. Although no one knew who was behind it, the Auror Office believed that the group of perpetrators seen leaving the destroyed village was composed mostly of purebloods. This incident frightened me; attacks on Muggles were becoming more and more frequent, and I worried that given her existing prejudice and penchant for cursing Muggles and muggleborns alike, Bellatrix would seek out the group behind these events and join them. Like them, Bellatrix felt that Muggles and muggleborns needed to be taught a lesson; to her, enforcing the current jurisprudence of the wizarding world meant that those of "inferior birth" needed to be put in their place. If they did not accept that they were of lower status and swear fealty to their betters, they would be punished.

By Monday, Narcissa and I were back to normal. Neither of us acknowledged our prior disagreement- meaning that we would eventually argue about it again- but at the very least, my little sister was no longer scowling at me, meaning that she had no intention of writing to Mother about my supposed wayward thoughts. After breakfast, Cissy even smiled at me and wished me a good day. I reciprocated, but I still felt uneasy.

One day I was going to have to make some very difficult choices about where my loyalties truly lay, and I knew that I was going to lose either the people I loved or my own morals.

I wouldn't be able to keep both.

In Charms that day, we were working on Silencing Charms. Having studied several chapters ahead in the textbook on my own time, I was already proficient at them, and immediately, I silenced the parrot provided by Professor Flitwick. My Charms partner, Ruth McKinnon- the smartest witch in our year- also completed the task quite quickly. Our successful silencing meant that we were done with our work for the period and could spend the rest of class chatting over the cacophony of bird squawking.

Ruth was a Ravenclaw, and one of the only people I could consider a friend. A pureblood herself, she was very cagey about her own public opinions on blood purity, but it was obvious to anyone who paid attention that she didn't care; she could appear sanctimonious when she absolutely had to, but she regularly smiled and joked around with muggleborns like Ted Tonks and willingly helped blood traitors like the Bones siblings with their schoolwork. Regardless, she was from an old pureblood family and was careful enough with her actions that my parents were unbothered by my friendship with her.

Across the table from me, Ruth stretched, letting out a yawn. As she retied the silver ribbon holding her sunny hair back from her face, the sleeves of her robe slid down her arms. On the underside of her left forearm, I saw her soul mark, which was of a swan and lion dancing. Ruth was obviously the swan, and the lion could only represent Gryffindor's Gideon Prewett.

Ruth was many things: intelligent, kind, bubbly, and a good judge of character. She also had a massive crush on Prewett that for some reason she didn't think was reciprocated.

"Your mark," I muttered while scratching the head of my green macaw. "It's lovely. I didn't realize you'd gotten it yet."

Ruth blushed as she hastily rolled her sleeves down. She pointed her wand at each of them in turn, mumbling the incantation for a Temporary Sticking Charm. "Er, yes," she stammered, petting the blue parrot next to her. "My birthday was last month. Please don't tell anyone about it though, I'm keeping it a secret for now."

"I won't tell anyone what your mark looks like," I assured her quietly. "I take it you're pleased with it?"

"Yes," she answered, her gray eyes darting around the room at our classmates, most of whom hadn't mastered the Silencing Charm yet. Across the room Lucius was practically shoving his wand down his parrot's throat. Laura, on the other hand, was too busy giggling and feeding her red macaw biscuits to actually complete the required task for the day.

My parrot let out a silent squawk as I turned back to Ruth. "So, have you asked Prewett if his mark matches yours? I believe his birthday was earlier this year."

"No, I haven't. I'm not sure what you're implying, Andromeda."

"I'm not implying anything. But you clearly fancy him, and he practically worships the ground you walk on whenever he's in the same room as you."

Ruth let out a long sigh as she rested her head against her hand. "Everyone says he fancies me, but I don't see it," she said, twirling her wand between her fingers. "He's just my friend. And I'm too afraid of being rejected to ask him about it. I don't want to get hurt. So no, I haven't asked him what his mark is. And he hasn't brought it up, so whatever his soul mark depicts, I don't think it's me."

"You are friends, aren't you?" I inquired as Professor Flitwick jubilantly sped by our table on his way to assist Lucius and Laura. "Can you ask him about it… as a friend?"

"I mean, I guess?" Ruth frowned. "But if he tells me what his mark is and it doesn't match mine, I'll be so upset. I don't want to catastrophically implode our friendship like that. I mean, I know that in the grand scheme of things a silly soul mark isn't going to determine my destiny, but it still would hurt, you know? Even if we did somehow get together, if we have different marks I'd always be wondering if I made a mistake by being with him."

I completely understood Ruth's worries, as unless I managed to somehow escape my parents' plans to betroth me, her fears would become my future.

"I've thought about asking Ted Tonks about it," Ruth continued quietly, her eyes focused on the floor. "He's Gideon's best friend, you know? I bet he's seen his soul mark. But every time I'm around Ted, I can't work up the courage to ask him either. I'm just too afraid. So I'll keep my mark a secret from the world for just a little bit longer. I wish I were I brave Gryffindor or a cunning Slytherin though. Then I could probably figure out a way to ask Gideon about his soul mark instead of floundering about, like I'm currently doing."

I nodded in acknowledgment. However, my mind was occupied as different scenarios of helping my friend ran through it, with various machinations taking form in my thoughts. After a couple minutes, I realized that I was in the perfect position to help her.

Because just like Ruth and her soul mark, I also had secret- one so great that if my peers or family discovered it, it could ruin all my carefully crafted plans for taking control of my future.

Ted Tonks was my friend too.

I found it impossible to sleep that night.

I tossed and turned in my four-poster bed, my thoughts about soul marks dragging me along with them as they danced around in my head, trapping me in a sempiternal waltz. Attempting to clear my mind only allowed the thoughts to take over, and counting Kneazles did nothing to keep them at bay. Additionally, Laura was snoring, which thoroughly aggravated me. I briefly considered casting a Silencing Charm on her, but came to the conclusion that while the rest of Slytherin would likely thank me for quieting the silly flirt, using magic on her for my own selfish benefit was entirely unethical. Pulling the thick woolen blanket around me, I permitted myself to be overtaken by the ideas and concepts hindering my slumber.

Although they had turned into something else entirely, the pureblood practice of betrothal contracts was initially developed in an attempt to pair off witches and wizards with matching soul marks. Naturally, finding identical marks between people was extremely uncommon, since excluding the majority of the magical population severely limited their pool of eligible partners. As such, matches were made almost solely on the elements of the mark. A witch with mark of a gerbil holding a raspberry on her arm could be betrothed to a warlock with an image cat and a daylily on his leg, and all parties involved would consider the match a resounding success.

In the past few centuries, however, families were more concerned with maintaining pure lines and consolidating wealth. This meant that a person's soul mark was only one factor in betrothal contracts, and it was frequently ignored. These days, most families- including my own- favored using marriages to exchange money, resources, and prestige. Identical soul marks were now considered extenuating circumstances, and while discovery of one could void an existing betrothal contract, more often than not, they werent seriously considered unless both families found the match advantageous in some other way.

Part of me was afraid of my soul mark finally becoming visible. Its appearance on my body heralded the advent of my adulthood, signaling to everyone in my parents' pureblood social circle that I was available for a betrothal. My chances of securing my freedom would diminish; as soon as my parents learned what my mark was, they would be searching high and low for someone compatible. If they failed, I would likely be sold off to whichever bachelor provided my family the most Galleons. A portrait probably had more freedom about its future than I did.

And unless I somehow broke free and seized my independence, I would likely be betrothed to a hateful pureblood who held no respect for me beyond the name I carried. The whole thing disgusted me, and under the covers of my bed, I shivered.

At the same time, a small part of me wanted to get my soul mark; it meant there was a possibility that someone, anyone out there might find me desirable for more than my ancestry. I wasn't blind; unlike Narcissa's beautiful blonde waves and Bellatrix's gorgeous raven curls, my brown hair and eyes were plain. I was more boring than beautiful, and most of the students at Hogwarts avoided me for fear that I would bully them like Narcissa or hex them like Bellatrix. Apart from Ruth McKinnon and possibly Ted Tonks, no one was interested in spending time with me other than those in Slytherins, and none of them seemed interested in rejecting the ideals of pureblood superiority. Unlike me, they had no interest in defying the barbaric traditions that limited our potential.

There was something enticing about the idea that somewhere in the world, there was a person destined to love me. Although my family claimed to do so, I knew that their feelings for me were conditional. If I did something that they disapproved of, like befriending muggleborns or suggesting that purebloods were no better than everyone else, they would cast me aside without remorse. And since I had done the first and believed the second, if my family learned who I truly was wasn't who I pretended to be, I would be done for. The best I could do was to hide my true self behind a visage of cold indifference and hope that I could somehow remain unmarried, otherwise I would be trapped in the cage of pureblood society for the rest of my life.

But what if there was someone out there who would love me, regardless of my opinions?

That possibility was too tempting for me to consider. Soul marks were a selfish and willful joke of love, mocking my reality and enticing me to give in to my emotions. They were a distraction from both my studies and my goals, and abandoning those pursuits in favor of the astronomical possibility that someone might be my soulmate would have devastating consequences. I had no assets and no money of my own, and I relied on my parents for safety and shelter. I had nowhere to go if I denounced their beliefs and was disowned.

I couldn't risk it.

Pulling my blanket over my head, I rolled over, determined to push all thoughts of soul marks out of my head and finally get to sleep.

Every Friday night, I met with Ted Tonks in an unused classroom so that we could study together. There was nothing scandalous about the arrangement; it had been suggested to us by our professors earlier in the year. Concerned that I would fail Transfiguration, my father was willing to let me study with the student who had the best marks in the subject in order for me to pass my O.W.L. exams, even if that student was a lowly mudblood. Likewise, Ted was positively awful at Charms, and I was the best in our year at the subject. My father viewed our arrangement as an opportunity for me to see just how inferior muggleborns were, while paradoxically encouraging me to take advantage of Ted's skill in Transfiguration.

Before long though, Ted and I had become friends. He was optimistic and incredibly kind, and I was far too curious about what life growing up with Muggles was like to deny myself an opportunity to learn about it. Conversations with Ted were jovial, and I found myself looking forward to our study sessions each week. For some reason, Ted seemed to enjoy my company as well, and he often asked me about what it was like to be an evil Slytherin pureblood. Rather than question why he was so amiable to me, I simply went along with it.

Of course, no one could know about our friendship, as Ted could be in danger if my family or the other Slytherins discovered the truth of our arrangement. Given their hatred of Muggles and muggleborns, I wouldn't have put it past them to seriously hurt Ted or his family to get him to stay away from me, considering that attacks against Muggles had been increasing as of late and the Ministry had hardly taken any action against them. But regardless of the risk, Ted insisted that he wanted to be my friend.

And since both of us were friends with Ruth, that Friday, I was finally able to put my plan to help her in motion.

I was organizing my Transfiguration notes when Ted arrived, looking for some otiose task to keep my hands occupied while I waited for him. The classroom we used had long tables in it instead of desks, which made it easier for us to spread out all our textbooks and materials while we worked.

My worries about soul marks refused to leave my mind, which was understandable considering I had made the decision to aid Ruth in her quest to discover Gideon Prewett's. However, unlike Ruth, I was willing to engage in a little bit of scheming to resolve her predicament.

"Hey," Ted said with a smile as bright as the sun as he placed his bag on the floor. He took the seat opposite me and retrieved his Transfiguration textbook from the back.

"Hello," I murmured, still focused on shuffling my notes.

"How's it going?" he asked.

I shrugged. "I'm fine," I replied, setting my papers to the side and drumming my fingers on the side of the table. "You?"

"I'm okay, but you definitely aren't, Andie," Ted said, frowning. "You seem really distracted. And if you're distracted while we're studying, you won't remember anything we did tonight. I'd feel really bad if we did all this and you didn't pass your Transfiguration O.W.L."

"Really, Ted, I'm alright."

"I don't believe you."

I sighed and looked directly at him. His smile had morphed into a frown and his blue-gray eyes were full of concern for my well-being. It was impossible to hide my feelings from him, and rather than keep denying it, I decided to confide in him. We were friends after all, and I knew I could trust him to listen to my silly worries and take me seriously. Of all of the people I knew, Ted was the only one who wouldn't judge me. I didn't need to put on an act- I could just be me.

"I've been thinking about soul marks," I admitted.

Ted laughed, and the bright and hearty sound eased me somewhat. "You and everyone else, Andie," he chuckled. "You're getting yours soon, right? It's only a couple of weeks until your birthday, so I can see why that would be on your mind."

"Yes, but that's not why," I replied as I tugged at a lock of my hair. "It's because of Ruth."

I briefly explained Ruth's dilemma to Ted, taking care not to reveal the precise details of her soul mark. Ted listened intently, and once I was finished, he let out a low groan.

"Gideon is my best mate, but he's beyond thick sometimes," he said, facepalming. "He's refused to talk about his soul mark with Ruth because he's convinced that it won't match hers. When he's not staring longingly at her, he's lamenting the fact that his love won't be returned."

I snorted. It seemed that both Ruth and Prewett would be destined to pine for one another, and unless Ted and I intervened, this tomfoolery would continue.

"Perhaps we should give them a little push to talk to each other," I suggested, leaning toward him. "I'll try my best to convince Ruth that Prewett isn't a lost cause if you'll get him to talk to her."

Ted grinned. "I'm in," he agreed. "But why are you so eager to help, Andie? I wouldn't think that an evil Slytherin like you would want to help Ruth and Gideon unless you benefited in some way."

"Well, if I help them, I don't have to hear Ruth complain about this anymore," I chuckled, pushing a strand of my hair behind my ear. "Isn't that a good enough reason?"

"For you? Nah," Ted grinned. He laughed again, and as he threw his head back his hair glowed in the dim light of the candelabra above us. "You might have everyone else fooled that you're an evil pureblood, Andromeda, but not me. You are definitely a Hufflepuff at heart. Complete badger material, to be honest."

"I'll let you believe that for now," I smirked. "It will lull you into a false sense of security regarding any future motives I might have. But back to the matter at hand, we need to convince Ruth and Prewett that a conversation is worth their while. Have you seen Prewett's soul mark? If so, can you tell me what it is?"

Ted shook his head. "No, Gideon refuses to show it to anyone, but he swears that it has to refer to Ruth," he groaned. "Have you seen hers?"

"Yes, I accidentally saw it the other day, but I promised her I wouldn't tell anyone what it was," I replied, taking my quill out of my bag and placing it on the table. "She wants it to remain a secret for now. But I will say that after seeing Ruth's mark, Prewett being in Gryffindor makes complete sense."

Ted stared at me blankly, clearly nonplussed by the hint I had given him. "Okay, well, I'm not sure what that means, but I'll talk to Gideon again," he said. "Maybe I can finally get him to see sense."

"I think Nifflers will fall from the sky before that happens, but I wish you the best of luck," I kindly replied.

Ted chuckled and scooted his chair closer to the table. "So, are you excited to get your soul mark?" he asked. "They're kind of romantic, aren't they?"

Suddenly, I felt cold. Joking with Ted and plotting about setting up our friends together had put me at ease, but his question has caused my anxiety to return with full force.

"No," I quietly admitted, twirling my quill between my fingers. "Getting my soul mark has nothing to do with romance for someone like me. It means that my parents will start looking for someone to betroth me to. Someone like them."

Ted grimaced. "I'm sorry," he said. "I knew that arranged marriages were still a thing for a lot of purebloods, but I didn't realize parents started looking so young. I guess I should have known better, since soul marks appear at sixteen."

"Ted, you don't have to apologize for not knowing," I replied, tapping on the table with my fingers again. "It's not your fault. You grew up in the Muggle world, where betrothal contracts basically don't exist anymore. At least Muggles have realized how barbaric and sexist they were. Frankly, I think we should learn from them on this one. I'm tired of living in a world where I can't do what I want or be who I am."

I don't want a future where I'm married to someone I can't love, I thought to myself. I don't want to end up like Bella.

His expression softened. "It's not fair," Ted said, his eyes narrowing. "It pisses me off that you have no control over your life. You deserve better."

I stared at the floor. There was nothing I could say that could change my reality. All I could do was focus on my studies and attempt to pursue some sort of career before I was betrothed. But if my parents found a close soul mark match for me before I graduated, there was likely nothing I could do.

"It'll all work out, okay?" Ted murmured unconvincingly. I didn't have the heart to argue with him, especially not when he smiled so gently at me.

Still sensing my distress, Ted leaned toward me, and the aroma of fresh pine flooded my senses, causing all my worries to wash away. He reached for my fidgeting hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. Apart from the callouses on his fingers from where he gripped his broom while playing Quidditch, his hands were very soft and warm.

As soon as he touched me, I felt an odd sensation, almost like fireworks were radiating outward from where our fingers connected. My heart began to flutter wildly, and I looked up at him. Ted's beautiful eyes were full of care, and as they met mine, I began to get lost in their stormy abyss. Feeling my face begin to flush, I looked away, withdrawing my hand. Obviously, being touched by an extremely attractive Quidditch player with ample muscles had thrown me into a tizzy.

At least, that was how Laura would explain something like this.

"Er, so, are you ready for the match on Sunday?" I asked, attempting to regain my composure.

Ted ran his hand through his gleaming hair again as he nervously laughed. "Absolutely, Andie," he answered, his face red for some reason. "Hufflepuff is going to cream Slytherin. You snakes don't stand a chance! In fact, it'll be a total blowout since I plan to score at least six times by myself."

I rolled my eyes at him. I would never understand some people's obsession with sports, and if it didn't impact the House Cup at all, I'd probably avoid paying attention to it entirely.

"We'll see," I said. "That's quite ambitious of you. Perhaps there are two evil Slytherins in this room right now: me and you."

Ted smirked. "You wish, Andie."

I laughed at him. "Anyway, we should probably start practicing some Transfiguration," I said.

Ted smiled at me again. "Of course," he replied. "We can't let you fail your Transfiguration O.W.L., now can we?"

For the next hour, Ted helped me as I tried to master turning a piece of parchment into silk. He encouraged me as I struggled, giving tips when he thought I wasn't concentrating hard enough and adjusting my wand arm and posture each time I became too rigid in my casting.

And each time he touched me, earthquakes of excitement erupted beneath my skin, distracting and frustrating me even further.

Thank you to everyone for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter. This story should end up being 6 chapters in length.

Next time, Ted ponders the true meaning of soul marks and helps spring his and Andromeda's plan into action.