I have a small (read: extraordinarily LARGE) obsession with Soulmates. I just like the thought that there's someone out there who will love you for who you are. Heaven knows it'll take a certain type of man to actually put up with me on my good days AND bad days.

Anyway, as mentioned in In My Dreams, this was written FOUR times (TT_TT). I had a beta reader (my mom) and she said she wanted more, so, you got more until I decided that most of it was fine the way it was because I wouldn't be able to write it without turning it into some large monstrosity like In My Dreams.

Professor, the writing on my stomach…what is it?

Ahh, those are your Soul Words, Mr. Riddle.

My Soul Words? What does that mean? What are they?

Those Words written on your body, are the first words that your Soulmate will ever speak to you.

First Year

"Is this seat taken?"

The sharp breath caught painfully in Tom's throat as his head snapped up from his book and towards the door at the softly spoken words. His eyes were wide, and his heart thundered painfully in his chest. His hand pressed against the skin below his navel over his shirt as something hot, wild, and primal stirred deep within him and quickly rose to the surface.

Mine.

He mutely shook his head as the words that had been spoken to him by an old, graying woman who told him that he was a wizard rang in his head.

…Soulmate…

"No, go ahead."

The pretty girl's eyes widened before a breathtaking grin spread across her face and caused the primordial feelings to stir once more and move even closer to his skin than they had been before. She hesitantly stepped into the compartment and sat down on the bench across from him and next to the window.

They sat in was painful and uncertain silence while they stared at each other. The sound of the train as it clacked along old, metal strips and cracked, wooden ties that were held together entirely by Magic brought only a semi-soothing rhythm.

As he stared at the black-haired girl, he could help but wonder if the same ancient, and possessive feelings that ate at him, ate at her. He could feel the uncomfortable gnawing on everything he thought he knew, who he was, as they remade him whole with her at his very center.

Just when the uncertainty got to near excruciating, the loud thump of a bird as it slammed into the window started the two children out of their shocked and possessive—on his part—stares. He went back to his Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook—it was the second time he'd read it (he'd already read his other school books and had nothing else to read)—while she pulled out what appeared to be their potion's textbook.

"My name's Hera," she said after he had read two and a half chapters.

He glanced up from the crisp pages and saw that she had a white-knuckled grip on what was indeed the potions textbook. Her middle fingernails picked at the cuticles of her pointer fingernails while her straight teeth gnawed on her full bottom lip.

"Tom. Tom Riddle," he offered after a moment when his gaze moved to her bright green eyes.

She visibly relaxed, and her lip was released from its confines and she smiled at him once more. She gestured to his book with her chin. "Do you like Defense?"

He shrugged his left shoulder. "I'm not entirely sure. It seems like it could be extremely useful in the future. Do you like Potions?" he asked as he nodded to her own book.

She wrinkled her small nose, and his lips twitched into a small smile. "Not particularly, no. My godmother is the Potion's Master and Professor, and she made it very clear that if I wasn't ahead by my first lesson, there would be punishments to be had."

When his eyes widened, she quickly and frantically started to babble as her face turned a delicate and delightful shade of pink. He kept his face straight, even as a not entirely foreign—but also not comfortable—emotion started to burn inside of him.

"I mean, she loves me, and she'd never hurt me—" Primal, possessive anger drove his heart into overtime at the thought of anyone hurting her. "—and I'm pretty sure she was just teasing—"

Amusement.

That vaguely familiar, and slightly uncomfortable emotion that overrode the ancient instincts that feasted upon his flesh and mind…was amusement. How strange. Her frantic words ceased when he started to laugh. It wasn't loud, or even like most children their age laughed—it was just a soft huff of air as his lips spread into a small smile.

"It's fine, Hera—" Something in him sang viciously at the taste of her name on his tongue "—I believe that your godmother was just teasing you," he said in an attempt—his first ever—to calm the girl—his Soulmate?—down.

It worked…how strange.

He was silent for a moment, as he savored her name on his tongue, and her titles in his mind.

He needed more.

"Do you have a subject that you like, Hera?" Nothing could ever taste as sweet as her name on his lips.

"Defense. I absolutely adore it. My godfather is an Auror and he tries to teach me some of the theory behind his spells every once in a while, despite what Severna says. Do you have a favorite subject?"

This was the longest conversation he had had without him trying to get something out of it. Wait. Did the calming her down count as self-gain?

Perhaps.

He shrugged softly. "I'm not entirely sure. I found out about Magic this summer."

She tilted her head to the side, as an odd light filled her eyes—he had never seen anything like it before (although it looked very close to excitement). "Are you muggle-raised?"

He thought for a moment at the odd phrasing of the question—he quickly remembered that those without magic were called muggles. "Yes…I suppose I am."

She smiled, and her eyes glittered with something he thought might be joy—he hadn't seen it before, and if he had, he didn't remember it. "I look forward to getting to know about your world, just as I look forward to teaching you about our world. Tell me, what is the purpose behind a metal bang-bang block? Sirius mentioned it once after he ran into it during a mission and brought it home. He didn't know what it was, and he thought Severna might know because she was raised around muggles. I never saw the metal bang-bang block because my godmother banished it before I could. He said that it shot little U-shaped pieces of metal towards someone, and that it really hurt when the pieces of metal actually hit their target."

Another huff of laughter left him—this one closer to how the children at the orphanage laughed. "I believe he either found a staple-gun or a stapler. Neither of those objects are meant to be pointed at people." He couldn't help the small bout of laughter.

He adored the look of awe on her face. He stopped laughing, and understanding lit her face, and he was once more remade with her at his center as the primordial and lush feelings amplified.

"That's why Severna made him sleep on the couch for a week and wore those bandages on her arm!"

He laughed, and she joined in, and he understood her feelings of awe when he had laughed.

He was never letting her go.

Hera didn't know what happened, and she didn't like whatever had happened.

They had been friendly on the train ride to school, but now, a mere week into the school term, her Soulmate refused to even look at her. What hurt the most, was when he'd see her, stop and stare for a moment, and then practically run away after something akin to pain would cross his face.

Sure, he was a Slytherin, but that didn't matter. Severna was a Slytherin, and Sirius was a Gryffindor. If those two could have a perfectly happy marriage—as long as metal bang-bang blocks weren't involved (or mentioned)—surely a Ravenclaw and a Slytherin would work…right?

She stopped lingering in the dungeons, and moved into the potion's classroom. She didn't know why she thought he would be there. It was breakfast. She moved past her busy godmother—she had been skipping meals and hiding in the potion's classroom, and Severna would stay with her (and if not her, Sirius would floo over to do so)—and to her large desk in the front of the room and plopped onto the large chair.

She watched her godmother tinker around the dark and dreary room—it had to be that way so the potion ingredients wouldn't sour—before she squished her head against the wooden desk. She listened to the familiar and comforting sounds of her godmother prepping for class—she was often snuck in under her father's Invisibility Cloak when she was a kid and sick and Sirius couldn't get off work—which also happened to be the first class with the first year Slytherins and Ravenclaws.

Eventually, the sounds grew to be not comforting, and she propped her head, so her chin rested on the desk instead of her face. "I don't know what to do, mama!" she bemoaned just as her stomach grumbled. She had been feeling far too ill to eat the last couple of days—it hurt to sit at the table and see her Soulmate pick at his food while he resolutely kept his eyes away from her.

Her godmother tinkered for a moment longer before she moved towards her. Long calloused fingers ran through her hair and deftly tied it back and away from her face in a high pony tail. "What about, my sweetling?" When it was just the family, her voice was warm and smooth, but when others were around—especially students—it was cold and stilted.

Her hair was tugged as Severna ran her fingers through her hair, and Hera concluded that she was braiding her hair. "Tom," she cried softly. Her hair was wrapped around the base of the pony tail and spelled into place. She turned on the swivel chair and was slightly distracted by her godmother's diamond necklace—a gift from her godfather at the beginning of the school year, and matched her own.

The silver and diamond necklace around her godmother's neck was in the shape of a coiled snake, ready to strike, yet somehow remained delicate. The snake's eyes were small emeralds, and she often thought if she stared hard enough, they'd glint at her in a wink.

The necklace around her own neck was in the shape of an eagle with its wings spread. Unlike her godmother's necklace, hers was made of a silver-bronze alloy, and had sapphires on the wing tips, and had two small bronze diamonds for eyes.

"What about Tom, sweetling?"

"He won't even look at me. I mean, we were friendly on the train, and the boats, and even up until we were Sorted, but now he won't even talk to me," she complained. She turned back to the desk and tried once more to bury her face into the hard-oak wood of the desk. She felt close to tears and bit her cheek to keep herself from crying.

She was gently tugged away from the desk and the chair turned once more so she now faced her kneeling godmother. "Oh, my sweetling. Come here." She eagerly went to her godmother's arms. "Do you remember the stories of how Sirius and I got on while we were in school?"

She nodded her head and pulled away from her embrace. Hands cupped her cheeks and she leaned into them. "Yes. He was an utter prat towards you."

Severna laughed and ran a thin hand along her hair before she went back to holding her face. "Yes, he was. But, after your parents—" her voice choked like it always did "—died, we realized that we were being completely foolish. It took us years before we got to the point where we could completely forgive each other for everything we said and did while we were children."

"I remember being the flower-girl at your wedding," she mentioned idly as she played with Severna's fingers. She had been six at the time, and despite the two Romantic Mates marrying, there had been a certain tenseness to their interactions that had lasted another year. The process had been sped up at having Hera in the center of most of their interactions.

It had been a very…crowded year, never having alone time, and always being the buffer for fights. But eventually, she had stopped being the center of each and every interaction, and finally got some time to herself—where she either hid in the library or on the Quidditch pitch (both choices heavily influenced by those she lived with).

The woman smiled and stroked her cheek lovingly. "You were so beautiful that day. You look so much like your mother. Except for this hair. That's all your father's doing," she teased softly as she pulled on the wild, dark locks that had already fallen out of the bun.

Hera nuzzled into her godmother's grasp, and ignored the familiar pain in her chest whenever her parents were mentioned—it wasn't because she missed them though. "Will you tell me about her sometime?" she asked, almost desperately. "I know it's hard for you to talk about her, but…I don't know. I just…I remember so little of her and dad."

It was too painful a topic for her godparents.

Severna smiled, and Hera swore that nothing in the night sky could ever shine as brightly as her dark eyes had in that moment. "I would love to tell you about her. But first, you have class. Did you read ahead like I told you to?"

"Yes, mama." She desperately tried to keep from rolling her eyes and nearly cheered when she succeeded.

"Could you tell me the properties of these roots, and what this potion is?" she asked as four jars and a single vial floated over to the large desk. They silently settled on the wood in front of her. She groaned quietly, but did as asked. "Flawless, my dear. Absolutely flawless."

When class started, she was disappointed when Tom sat as far away from her—but still in the front—as possible while one of her dorm mates, Hermione Granger, sat next to her.

But, in the long run, it wasn't something she was too upset about.

"Good morning, class. Today we're going to be doing something a little bit different," Severna said once all of her students were in the classroom. She knew that her goddaughter would most likely kill her for doing this—and by consequence, maybe even her godson (he was forever overprotective of his younger god-sister. But, it had been…was truly painful to watch the two children dance around each other for the last three months.

She and Sirius found endless amusement in the fact that they both had Silver Words.

"Today, we're going to be working on a little bit of House unity. On the board, I have already paired you with a partner, and together you will start on the research for the Elixir of Clarity."

She waved her wand and the names appeared paired with another student's name. She watched Hera and nearly laughed when her face paled and began to rapidly look between her and Riddle before she decided that Death by Glare was sufficient for the moment.

Severna only smiled sweetly and motioned with her hand and her goddaughter reluctantly moved to sit next to Tom.

Yes, she definitely needed to tell Sirius about this, she thought when Tom reached out to grab Hera's hand, panic on his face—she didn't see emotion often on the boy, and it was nice to see it.

She also probably needed to sleep with her eyes open.

|}(TMR){|

So, you think you're good enough for Hera, do you mudblood?

What do you mean?

She's a Pureblood. Purebloods don't marry mudbloods, mudblood. She's just playing with you. And if you know what's best for you, before I play with you, you'll leave her alone.

If she's just playing around with me, why do you care, Malfoy?

The conversation of his first night at school between himself and Draco Malfoy ran in his ears as Hera—Potter-Black reluctantly moved to sit next to him.

"Hi," she mumbled softly.

Primal urges rose in him at having her so close to him after going so long with her gone. "Hi, Hera." Her name still tasted as sweet as before.

They sat in agonizingly awkward silence as they turned to the required page. Hera slumped next to him. "I'm so sorry, Tom. I'm going to kill ma—Severna for doing this."

"Why?"

His heart hurt.

"Because…. Well…you obviously don't want to be around me. I don't know what I did to make that happen. I—uh…I might have asked her for advice on what to do after school started, and this is apparently her solution. If you don't want to be associated with me…I…. I understand. I'll have her change it."

She moved to stand, and in a blind panic fueled by ancient instincts, he reached out and grabbed her hand. Was that tingling normal?

(something deep within him purred at the contact)

"No, it's fine. I—I don't mind. I want to be with you, Hera," he said softly.

But…I know someone who does mind, he thought when he heard Malfoy hissing behind them, attempting to get his or Hera's attention.

She smiled and sat down, and together they started to work, and unknowingly slid closer together until their shoulders touched.

No personal information was exchanged between the pair, but something had shifted. It didn't matter that they didn't know the other's dislikes and likes.

He was content to have her by his side.

For now.

Hera and Hedwig were in the middle of an intense staring match.

The package was held tightly in her hands, and the old, faithful owl had continuously tried to pluck it from her fingers, only to miserably fail, and had tried until the two had ended up in their current situation.

"Sweetling, have you sent the gift—" Severna cut off as she and Sirius walked into the room with their arms wrapped around each other. Out of the corner of her eye, there was a faint shimmer of rose-gold on her godfather's wrist as he ran his fingers through his wife's long, freshly washed hair.

"Shh," she hissed, "I'm concentrating."

Sirius laughed before he moved to put his hands on her shoulders. He squeezed lightly. "Pup, if you don't send it soon, it won't be there in time for Yule…Christmas. We also need to leave for the Day First Yule Ritual with the Malfoy's and Regulus soon, and you still need to change into your Ritual Dress."

Hera sighed at his unfortunately timed logic before she reluctantly handed the gift to the—suddenly—disgustingly smug bird. She stroked the top of her head for a moment, and received a fond nip. "Take it to Tom." The owl hooted and nipped her fingers fondly again before she took off through the large, open window. "What if he doesn't like it?" she whispered through a suddenly very tight throat.

"Pup, if he doesn't like it, then he's not the one for you."

"But—"

"Sweetling, he'll like it. You spent two days picking it out."

"But…what if he takes it the wrong way?" She finally voiced her true concern, and instead of it making her feel better, like she had hoped, it just made her feel worse. She really didn't want to insult him—intentionally or not.

"Then it's his problem, not yours, my love."

Hera sighed once more before she left to change into her handspun white cotton dress that was only to be worn for Rituals.

She stood in front of her mirror and ignored its 'helpful' comments while she quickly tied her hair back into a neat Dutch-braid—well…attempted for it to be neat would be more accurate. While she worked, her eyes fell onto the once Black, now dull Silver, letters visible just below her left clavicle.

No, go ahead.

They were written in a familiar and neat calligraphy—that was slightly tidier than Tom's current handwriting—and she tried to bite back the tears that threatened to fall.

Only one escaped her iron will.

She didn't know what she would do if her True Soulmate Rejected her.

Page 17 of The Intricacies of Soulmates by Joan Selwyn

Commonly known by most, if not all Pureblood witches and wizards, is that Soul Words have different colors, depending on the type of Soulmates.

Black is for Words that have yet to be spoken.

Gray is for when your Soulmate has died…

Bronze Words are for Platonic Soulmates…

Rose-Gold represent Romantic Soulmates…

There is one more color, and it is both the rarest, and most sought after. Silver. Silver represent the Bond of True Soulmates. They are the one Soulmate pair that will be both the best of friends, and the closest of lovers. They are the one pair who will always love each other for who they are. Good or evil, happy or sad, until eternity passes away, even if there is a radical change in who they are at their center.

Unlike other Soul Word colors, Silver Words change color the closer the two Mates get. They start dull, and the shinier they are, the stronger the Bond. They are the only Soulmate pair who do not require any additional Bondings when they marry—as the reason Bondings were created was to replicate a True Soulmate Bond.

It is very rare for True Soulmates to be of different blood statuses, and even rarer for them to be muggleborn.

It is often said that True Soulmates are meant to be treasured by each other, for they can never share their soul with another. They will have friends, they will have family, and they will have people who flit in and out of their lives.

But never will they have someone they can love as their Soulmate.