Disclaimer: Nothing you recognize belongs to me.

A/N: I'm actually so proud of how this story turned out :) I had to do a lot of thinking with the challenging prompt but I think it turned out great. Thanks to Ellen for betaing. Please let me know what you thought! I tried to spotlight a bunch of different characters. Written for:

QLFC Finals rnd 2: wasps' beater 2: use the 'soulmates' cliche; prompts - 1. unusual, 2. blanket, 13. temptation; biathlon comp: 10 km sprint: 1000 words min; prompts - poison, Ron Weasley, tumble, pursue, gallery, "I told you this was a bad idea right away", intelligence; prompts not used for 150 extra words each: magician, wig, attic;

Weasleys' Wonderful Soulmate Solution

George Weasley tumbled through green flames and took the stairs of his London townhouse two at a time. He slowed his pace and stopped in Roxanne's bedroom to place a kiss on the forehead of his daughter's sleeping form, and then moved to his bedroom, where Angelina was fast asleep under the sunlight-covered blanket. This was not an unusual February Friday; she had the afternoon shift today.

This did not stop George from crawling up beside her until they were inches apart. He threw an arm around her waist and leaned in close to her ear.

"Ange," he whispered.

Angelina's eyes shot wide open, and George watched her face contort: first in shock, then in relaxation, then in anger. She let her eyes droop and pouted before speaking. "Too early."

"I finally got it!"

She sleepily raised an eyebrow for him to continue, and he grinned and shook her slightly, much to her chagrin. She reached up and stretched as a loud yawn erupted; as her limbs cleared of sleepy tension, she opened her eyes and gave him her full attention. "What's this?"

"That Hogwarts grad I just hired, he's practically a potioneer – I can't believe I didn't think of it before."

"Think of what?"

"For my soulmate stuff! I've had this idea forever. There's nothing else like this on the market, Ange. Nothing. It's a whole new brand of love potion – 'meant to be'." He smiled at the thought of the tagline, and Angelina rolled her eyes lovingly.

"Brilliant. What did Cameron figure out?"

"Cameron?"

"Your new hire?"

"Oh, right. So all this time I've been thinking about matching up personalities, right? Having the directions be to think of what makes them happiest, then down the stuff. It allows the drinker to feel as people pass – the stronger the temptation, the more likely they're meant to be together. But it's not always shared interests. Opposites attract, too. It's this new plant – I can't believe Neville hasn't told us about it – but Cameron just got his Herbology NEWT. It's a nomad flower whose seed is spouted into the air where it grows, and it roots itself into the environment most suited for it. And every single one of the flowers end up somewhere different, just like people. It's perfect."

Angelina grinned, but then frowned slightly. George mirrored her expression. "What's wrong?"

"Aren't you selling this as a soulmate potion? To find that one person that's perfect for you? This sounds like a compatibility test."

"Well…that's what a soulmate is, isn't it? That one person who you could feel connected with on a level deeper than everything else. It doesn't just check compatibility, it checks personality, behavior; it's the strength of that possibility of a connection. Besides, disclaimer: results not 100% guaranteed. After all, do you really think there's one person out there meant for everyone? If you had grown up in America, would we have gotten married? Why did you marry me, anyway?"

"Now that you've woken me up on my morning off for the first time in five years, I'm not quite sure I remember."

He smiled mischievously and brought her into a searing kiss. When they pulled away, there was a catch of her breath. "I remember."

She rolled her eyes but smiled. "Me too." There was a pause as she snuggled closer. Her eyes closed, but she spoke again. "So, everything's ready then?"

"It will be soon." Angelina could hear George's grin. "A week, max. I'll have it to Seamus in Hogsmeade at least a week before Valentine's. This is going to be amazing."

She pecked his lips. "It always is."

Adelaide Price was on the moving staircase that took her to Ancient Runes when she heard her name called out behind her; the voice was all too familiar.

"Adelaide!" James Potter called again, just as she turned to find where the voice was coming from. He was almost a floor below and rapidly pursuing her. She turned around and walked briskly, dreading him catching up to her. If they talked, she would have to look up, and she hated that he was finally taller than her this year.

"Wait up!" She didn't stop walking, but she considered it. They were going to the same class. But talks with James nearly always gave her a headache; he was kind and funny, but a troublemaker, slacker, and as annoying as they come. His only care in the world was, unfortunately, his crush on her. Their conversations nearly always consisted of recounting whatever he did at Quidditch, the latest 'insanely impressive' prank he was going to pull, and asking her on a date. She resolved to let him catch up right before they got to class so that they wouldn't have much time to talk.

She was in the middle of a portrait gallery and the classroom was at the end of the hall when she was still walking fast, but he had caught up. Curse those new couple of inches.

"Potter," she greeted. They were hardly friends. She hadn't called him James since first year.

And it made him incredibly annoyed, so she continued it.

"Hey." James flashed her a grin. "Have you seen the new potion at Wheezes? It's amazing!"

She had; it was Monday, and Saturday had been a Hogsmeade day. People across the store wouldn't shut up about it, and she'd heard it mumbled all across the school. More embarrassingly, students were going up to other students in the halls and loudly proclaiming that they felt a magnetic pull towards them specifically; she prayed it didn't happen to her.

James was still grinning, brown eyes bright. She steadfastly ignored their rapt attention on her.

Oh no.

"Yup. Who hasn't? It's practically in the Prophet."

"I picked some up this weekend." He tried and failed utterly to be nonchalant. "It's the coolest feeling. The more likely you are to connect with someone, the stronger the pull."

"I heard. So you like it?"

"Love it, especially since it brought me straight to you." There it is. Adelaide felt her cheeks burn, and looked down and ahead as they walked; he continued as if what he was saying was the most obvious thing in the world. "Your pull is the strongest of all of them. So, you know, we're meant to be, just like I said. You wanna go to Hogsmeade sometime?"

She worked up the nerve to look him in the eye. "You're bluffing."

"Never." His gaze was steadfast. She snapped back to the classroom they had finally reached.

"It's still a no. I'm not going to date you because fate said so. Try being a decent friend first, then we'll see. And do something with that ridiculous hair," she added on the defense, just to see his indignant expression.

He winked at her. "I'll give it my best shot."

Oh, I know. She rushed to her place, took out her textbook, and tried to ignore how insanely fast her heart was beating.

Hermione was sipping her morning tea and reading the Prophet when her husband sleepily wandered into the kitchen and hugged her from behind, placing a kiss on her cheek. She leaned back into the warmth.

"Good morning."

She turned slightly and pecked his lips. "Morning. Rose wrote today." She picked up the letter from where it sat on the table and passed it to him. Ron pulled away from her and read the words eagerly. She watched his expression change from being elated to hear from his daughter to adjusting to what the letter was saying; at the end, as she expected, he looked up with a frown, and Hermione giggled.

Ron narrowed his eyes. "Soulmate potion? What even is that?"

"George's latest and greatest. He went on and on about developing it at Christmas; maybe you were too sloshed to notice," she teased.

"She's fourteen. She doesn't need to get pulled to anybody."

"She's just having a bit of fun. I'm sure James and all the others have invested in it. George got them so riled up about it over the holidays."

"What if she actually likes one of these boys? They might start to date. I told you this was a bad idea right away."

"What bad idea?"

"Letting her grow up," he gave a soft smile, and Hermione joined in, and then rolled her eyes.

"It's going to happen eventually, and you will survive."

Ron looked at her like she was crazy. "Do you remember what we did when we started to date?"

"She's fourteen. Stop worrying."

"I'll stop worrying when she stops getting pulled. For Merlin's sake, she's going to fall in love with these boys she thinks are perfect for her for some odd reason."

"We'll know. She won't hide it, and that makes it a million times better." Ron conceded a small smile. "Besides," she can't help but throw in, her smirk in place, "she's not getting pulled, she's pulling."

Ron looked at her and sighed, defeated. "That is so much worse."

Love or Looting?

By Rita Skeeter

In just two weeks, the Wizarding World has been taken by storm by Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes newest WonderWitch product: Soulmate Solution.

Claiming to create a magnetic pull between the drinker and the people they encounter, in which a stronger pull has a stronger possibility of fated lovers, it sold out of the Hogsmeade branch in the first weekend that it was available for students. The branch's manger, Seamus Finnegan, had to have a rush order in time for the next day from the flagship in Diagon Alley.

What is so alluring about fate? Why are wizards and witches of all ages flocking to discover who was truly meant for them? Who's to say that this potion even works, anyway?

George Weasley, war hero and owner of Wheezes, claims that this is life-changing; that this is what the Wizarding World has been waiting for. Know who you're supposed to be with.

But could it be that he knew it would bring in the galleons? After all, you release a love potion that claims to counter love itself, you would expect it to make big.

Or could there be alternative motives? We haven't had a scandal within the Weasleys since Ginny Potter's obvious affair with the Beater on the Wimbourne Wasps. Could it be that George, or his family, is falling for others, or tired of their mundane lives with their same-old partners?

It's proving to be destructive outside of the Weasleys, after all. I've witnessed no less than ten public break-ups this past week on my commute to the Prophet office, double the amount of before. Additionally, I've checked in with a Ministry's Marriage office: they've seen an unsurprising amount of chaos.

Maybe that's all George Weasley wants: chaos; and he's letting you pick your poison to get it.

Neville Longbottom sat at his desk in Greenhouse Five and gathered his notes for his NEWT class. Molly and Louis walked in together, chattering on their way to their usual desks. They stopped for a moment and looked up and said hello, then resumed their conversation. He didn't have to eavesdrop to know what they were talking about.

One of the youngest professors on staff was their new Divination teacher. She was just out of her mastery and kind, pretty, and intelligent, but also quite strange, and today reaffirmed that.

Today in the Faculty Lounge, Neville had been by himself before she walked in and briskly walked over to him. She stopped when she was only inches away and quickly announced that he was her soulmate before Neville, just as quickly, told her that he was very much in love with his wife, Hannah.

She had seemed dejected, but not nearly as put off from the idea as he would like her to be.

Now there was a loophole he would be bringing up with George.

Neville decided to scrap his lesson and move his lecture about nomad flowers, and why they are not the be-all and end-all of love.

Unfortunately, most of the students agreed to disagree and his usual lesson turned into a rapid debate: five NEWT students on one professor. But Louis caught his eye and gave a decisive eye roll, and Neville was grateful for the sanity.

"Do you think this is way more trouble than it's worth?"

"Huh?" Angelina looked up from her dinner. Roxie had already gone to bed, and George had been quiet the whole meal, but Ange hadn't pegged why.

"I feel like I'm causing a ton of trouble. Neville flooed and said that batty Divination professor hit on him the other day. Fred said he and James love it, but I feel like they're the only ones."

"It's just the opposite! It wouldn't have sold out so much if people didn't love the product. It really works. You should be proud."

"I am proud. I think that's the problem." George looked defeated, and Angelina's heart sank.

"I know it's not everything you wanted it to be," she sighed. "But it is still amazing. I mean, this is greater than most potioneers ever come up with. You're so talented."

"Not as talented as you." He put in a quick compliment, and she grinned.

"But very talented, all the same."

"I don't know. I just feel like I tried to take over people. Think of all those breakups and marriages."

"Skeeter's full of it," Angelina cut in.

"But it's true. I've noticed it all over Diagon. There's so many public announcements of love. It's so strange." George had a focus in his eyes. "I tried to make fate. Cheat it. It doesn't work like that. I love it, but the potion's not going to work."

She got up to meet him across the table. He tucked out from the table and held her hands as she sat in the chair next to his. "You know it was amazing, right?"

That grin came back in a flash. "I know I'm amazing, yeah."

She rolled her eyes and brought him in for a kiss, feeling like fate could stuff it, as long as she had him.