Warnings: some Het, some H/G, soul mates, bonds, pureblood traditions, magical customs, magical etiquette, a lot of insults and fights, sex, infidelity.
So, here is the prequel to Deconstruct! I am officially excited for this fic and I had to rearrange my whole updating schedule a bit for it.
Also, reading 'Deconstruct' is not required to read this and vice versa, they just happen to be in the same 'verse.
Enjoy!
1 - Resist
"Good morning," Harry said as he turned over to look at his girlfriend of one year, he brushed a hand through Ginny's red hair, her brown eyes lighting up in adoration as she snuggled in closer to him. His heart swelled at the sight and he sighed in content.
It had only been a year since the Great Battle of Hogwarts had concluded with the death of Voldemort, there had been much rebuilding of the wizarding world between, then and now, and Harry had, reluctantly, been the center of it all. He loved it, his life had never been more perfect than it was this past year.
"Mornin'," Ginny mumbled, burying her face into his chest as he wrapped his arms around her. "What time is it?"
Harry shrugged, chancing a glance at the clock they kept near the bedside before he said, "Just after nine."
"Shit, I have practice this morning." Ginny groaned, she pushed a piece of hair from her eyes as she looked up at him, "You have to go too, right?"
Harry leaned his head against the headboard as he let out a yawn, "Yeah, I suppose." He winked at her that caused her to giggle as he added, "Though, I'm sure the savior of the world can get a day off on his birthday."
She gasped in surprise; mirth glittered in her eyes as she placed her chin on his chest, "Today is your birthday? I would have never known."
"Hm, you should," Harry donned an arrogant tone as he sat up; "It is a national holiday."
Ginny chortled, hitting his chest once as she sat up, as well, "That would not be surprising, at all, actually."
"Didn't you get the memo?" Harry said, sliding out of the bed, shivering when his bare feet touched the cold, wooden floor. "It happened exactly at midnight, they have shrines and everything at Diagon Alley."
"Stop playing around," Ginny chastised as she crawled from under the sheets to and wrapped her arms around his neck, he grabbed her hips to pull her closer, "Just remember that you have to be at the Burrow at five, famous birthday boy."
"I'll remember," Harry promised, sliding his hand up her bare thigh, relishing at the smooth skin he felt there. "I'll remember even more if I was rewarded."
"Oh, yeah," Ginny leaned forward to land a kiss on his lips before she pulls back, "What kind of reward?"
"Birthday sex, mostly." Harry grinned, as Ginny lets out a gentle laugh.
"I can arrange that," Ginny winked as she climbs out of bed and away from his hold, giving him a kiss on the cheek as she added, "I'll let Hermione know."
Harry grimaced at that, Hermione was gorgeous but too much of a sister to him. "Thanks, Gin, for that."
"Anytime," Ginny said, brightly, walking to the bathroom. Harry let out a happy sigh as he sat on the bed, listening to Ginny's singing as the water ran.
Life was perfect.
"So, the big eighteen, eh, mate?" Ron said, excitedly, as he entered Harry's office, huge grin lighting up his face as he stood in front of him. "Happy Birthday," He slapped his hand on his back causing Harry to rock forward at the impact. "Holy shit, you're old."
"Shut up," Harry grumbled, rubbing the spot where Ron had slapped. "You're older than me." He gave him a once over before he lets out an annoyed groan, "So, they've sent you to bring me to this surprise party, I'm assuming."
Ron groaned, "You aren't supposed to know, Harry." He whined before he leaned in eagerly as Harry collected his belongings, "So, did you get it?"
"Get what?" Harry asked, confused.
"It. The Marking," He hesitated for a fraction of a moment before he plowed on, "I know it's sacred and shit but you can tell your best mate, at least. All that conservative and privacy shit are only tradition."
Harry looked at him, blankly, before he shook his head, "If you're drunk, go bother Hermione. I'll head to the Burrow by myself."
"Okay, I get it, you won't say," Ron nodded, admirably. "That is very traditional of you." He added before he is looking at Harry, closely, "Is it Ginny, at least?"
"Is what Ginny?" Harry shot him an annoyed look, "Honestly, just go away."
Ron rolled his eyes, giving him an exaggerated wink, "I understand completely."
"You're weird," Harry declared as he tucked his messenger bag under his arm and added, "Let's go, already."
"Oh, look at you," Molly gushed, pulling Harry to her bosom for a hug. "Happy Birthday, dear, it's seemed only yesterday you were this skinny little thing sitting for the first time at the table - such a gentle soul."
Harry smiled, happily, he always loved Molly's warmth and motherly tendencies, it made him feel loved and at home in the Burrow.
"Thank you, Molly," Harry said, graciously, he looked around the colorfully decorated living room where all the Weasleys were gathered. "This- this is truly amazing."
"How many times must I tell you to call me mum," Harry blushed as Molly laughed, patting his cheek gently, "You'll pop the question, soon, won't you?"
"I will." Harry promised, though marriage was the furthest thing from his mind but he couldn't find it in him to crush the woman's heart.
"Hear, hear," Charlie cheered, raising his glass. "Good for you, mate."
"Nice to see you, Harry," Bill said, clapping a hand on his back. "Happy birthday."
"Thank you," Harry smiled. "I know it must be a hassle for you and Fleur to come all this way." He gave a small wave to the pregnant woman who sat at the couch.
"No worries, this is a special day for you." Bill winked, "I wouldn't miss it for the world."
"You like our decorations, Harry?" Fred came over and draped a long arm over his shoulder, "We shitted rainbows everywhere."
"Fred!"
"I'm George, woman," Fred said, grinning as he rolled his eyes. "Honestly."
"It's all great," Harry said, catching a glimpse of Ginny who smiled at him, he smiled back, his heart beating a bit faster as he added, "Everything is perfect."
"Glad to hear you like it, Harry," Arthur said, giving him a warm smile. "You are family, after all."
"Thank you." He replied his voice filled with emotions. He cleared his throat before he gave them all a bright smile, "Truly."
"Well, let's see it, then," Molly said, expectantly, "It's why we all are here. You must've felt so excited to see it, I know it's rude to ask but I am so excited - we are all pretty sure who it is, though," Molly added with a wink.
"Err...I'm not sure what you mean, Molly," He gave her a confused smile.
"Oh, now, Harry. Don't be shy," George said, "We got ours, as well, right on our bum!"
"Perfect place, if I say!"
"Boys!" Molly chastised with a glare.
"It's natural, Harry," Ginny said, coming to stand next to him. "I'm getting mine next year, I'm sure, and I know it's you."
"Okay, I have no idea what any of you are talking about," He pulled away from Ginny to get some space, "What is going on here?"
"Surely, you've read about it." Hermione chimed in with a frown.
"No, I haven't read about anything." Harry snapped at them, running a hand through his hair. "Look, if someone would just explain what the bloody-"
"There it is!" George exclaimed, suddenly, causing Harry to jump in surprise.
"On his wrist, I see it." Fred affirmed, eagerly moving forward.
"I get to see first," Ginny declared, grabbing a hold of both Harry's wrist, "I am his mate."
Harry tried tugging his arms from Ginny's grip but she only held tighter as the rest of the Weasleys and Hermione crowded him, eagerly. He was truly at a lost for words, not completely sure what they found so interesting with his wrist.
"Oh, what does it say?" Molly asked, eagerly.
"Ginny, of course!" Ron exclaimed, proudly. "My best mate will finally be part of the family, wicked!"
"Well, Ginny, confirm it." Hermione urged with a smile, she knew more than anyone how long Ginny had waited for this moment. "Go on."
"I'll go get the firewhisky!" Arthur declared, running to the kitchen to gather the age-old bottle of firewhisky he kept for celebrations.
Ginny merely stood there, her eyes wide with disbelief as she stared at Harry's right wrist; the neat, cursive writing almost haunting to her.
"Let go of my arm, will you?" Harry said, irritably, tugging after a moment of silence. "What are you searching for, anyways? I don't know what's gotten into you lot."
"Ginny?" Molly asked, more nervously. "Honey, what is it?"
She mumbled something under her breath that nobody catches and they all seemed to move in closer at her mumbling, much to Harry's chagrin.
"What is it, Gin?" Ron asked, "It's your name, right?" He shook his little sister's shoulder a bit as she stood stock still, "Right?"
"What name?" Harry demanded, looking at them with angry, green eyes. "What is going on!?"
"It isn't my name." Ginny whispered, her voice trembled as if she was about to cry and Harry looked at her in confusion. "Why isn't it my name, Mummy?"
"Oh, sweetheart," Molly instantly pulled her towards her and Ginny finally let Harry's wrist go. Harry cradled it to his chest, protectively. "I'm so sorry."
"It isn't fair, it isn't fair!" Ginny cried and Harry stood still in shock, watching in horror as his girlfriend broke down in front of him. "I love him more than anything! I'd do anything for him! He should be mine! Why can't he be mine?"
"What is going on?" Harry asked in a low whisper as everyone moved to console the hysterical female Weasley. His heart tugged at the sight and he wished that he could make it better, no matter what it took.
The happy atmosphere that had filled the room had dissipated and had left in its wake a melancholic tension that suffocated Harry as he watched his girlfriend cry in her mother's arm.
"Whose name?" Hermione asked Ginny with sad eyes and a soft voice, it hurt her to see how broken her friend was by the revelation and she wished she knew how to make it better.
Ginny shook her head, frantically, as she buried herself into her mother's side as if she was eleven years old again.
"What is going on?" Harry shouted in frustration. He couldn't take the tension anymore, it was much too bearable and he took a step as every pair of eyes turned to look at him, solemnly.
Hermione turned to him with wide eyes, "You truly don't know?"
Harry looked at her in annoyance, "Obviously. Why...why is Ginny crying?" he asked in a softer voice, every gut wrenching sob that Ginny let out tore at his heart like a knife.
Hermione heaved a sigh as she grabbed his hand, moving away from the grieving family and said, "Let's go talk somewhere private."
"Okay, what is going on, Hermione?" Harry asked as soon as they were outside in the garden. He took a seat on the step as Hermione stood in front of him with a pensive look on her face.
"Hermione?"
Hermione took a deep breath before she began, "In the muggle world, a total of 10% of the population ever finds their soul mates."
Harry looked at her, confusedly, "What does that even mean?"
Hermione ignored him, instead, continuing with her explanation, "The same can be said in magical people - only in the wizarding world, if you've met your soul mate before your eighteenth birthday then you will be marked, or named, on your body. Some on the wrist, some on their shoulders, other in more private places; those raised in a magical family like pure-bloods call ones 18th birthday their Marking Day."
Harry shook his head in confusion. "Hermione, this doesn't make any sense."
Hermione continues on as if she is reading from a book, "If you find your soul mate after eighteen, then there will be no marking but you will still feel a pull towards them. But it is highly unlikely that one will find their soul mate after the age of eighteen."
"Hermione..." Harry whispered, his hands trembled and he was almost afraid to look down at his hands. "What are you trying to say?"
Hermione sighed, "Your soul mate's name is on your wrist, Harry. The person who will make you complete. The other half of your soul."
"What if its a mistake?" Harry demanded, "What if you've fallen in love with someone else?"
"Harry, look," Hermione lifted her tank top to point at her left hip where a name was scrawled, rough and ragged. "I got this on my 18th birthday."
Harry squinted before he widened his eyes in shock, "Hermione! That's -"
"I know," Hermione whispers, she had a bitter smile on her lips. "I tried so hard to ignore it, to love Ron but I've accepted it, him. He's my soul mate. "
"No fucking way," Harry shouted, suddenly enraged. "I'm marrying Ginny, I am in love with Ginny and no bloody writing on my wrist is going to say otherwise!"
"Harry, I know this is a lot to take in but - why do you think your parents started going out during their seventh year all of a sudden. Why do you think everyone said they were perfect for each other...?" Hermione sighed, shaking her head, "We didn't grow up in this world, Harry, we are ignorant to magical customs and traditions; it's no wonder they have a word for us - Mudblood; my blood is dirty but, so, is my mind."
"What are you saying, Hermione?" Harry said, incredulously.
"We are outsiders looking in, Harry!" Hermione shouted in frustration. "We are so ignorant to this world, we don't know anything. Finding your soul mate is but one tradition. I've read so much on the Wizarding World customs and etiquette and I'm trying to understand them, understand our biology."
"Has having a soul mate made you insane, too?" Harry hissed, standing to his feet. "I don't care what you believe in, I believe in my relationship with Ginny and no fucking writing on my hand is going to change that."
"Don't resist, Harry," Hermione advised, "It will only hurt more when you realize your mistake."
"I will never regret being with Ginny." Harry spat as he pulled the door open with a harsh tug. "This conversation is over."
"At least, see who it is."
Harry froze, his ears ringing with her words, "Excuse me?"
"You're a curious thing, Harry - you didn't look the least surprised or curious when I told you that the one who completes you will be on your wrist, not even a peek," Hermione explained with a knowing look that Harry despised. "It's because you already searched for the answer when you saw it this morning or at work, isn't it? You already know whose name is on your wrist, don't you? You were just pretending to be clueless."
Harry swallowed thickly because she was right; he'd seen it and went into a near panic. He had been confused, unsure what it mean and it had made him sick to his stomach and he had hurled in the bin next to his desk.
"Don't take me as a fool, Harry." Hermione whispered, "I'm the brightest witch you know."
"That you are, Hermione," Harry muttered, annoyed, "I'm going in, now."
"Who is it, then?"
"Don't take me as a fool, Hermione," Harry threw her words back at her, "You already know."
Harry chanced a glance down at his right wrist as he walked slowly inside, the cursive writing that was etched on his skin felt heavy and itchy all of sudden. He shuddered at the feeling, covering his wrist with his left hand in hopes that if the blasted thing wouldn't be in sight, he would forget about the name. The name he loathed the most.
Draco Malfoy.