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Written for;

Granger-Danger Event - First Meet

Writing Club - Soulmate - 7. There's a timer on your wrist counting down to the moment you meet your soulmate.

Writing Club - Showtime - Act 1, Prompt 23. Post War

Roald Dahl Event - 153. Sneaky Pecan Pie - A Slytherin

Friends Competition - S9Ep11 - Rachel Goes Back To Work - Lucius Malfoy.

100 Ways to Say 'I Love You' - 39. "Don't cry."

Are You Crazy Enough - 84. Soulmate!AU

Minutes to Launch

Seventeen is an important age in any witch or wizard's life. That is a known fact. Lesser known, but just as important, is that the twenty first birthday is also a huge milestone. At the exact time of birth on the twenty-first birthday, a witch or wizard gets a countdown timer appear on their wrist.

This tells them exactly how long it will be until they meet their soulmate.

…

Hermione waited with bated breath as the seconds ticked away. She'd checked multiple times with her mother for the exact time of her birth, and the hour was finally upon her. Her birthday party was in full swing around her, but just for a moment, she was paused, waiting to find out how long she would spend alone until she met her soulmate.

The numbers appeared slowly across her wrist in cursive script, black, small, but big enough to clearly make them out.

638735

As she stared at it, the 5 changed to a four, and she exhaled. Doing click calculations in her head, she worked out that it was a little over fourteen months. Not too bad, she supposed. She'd read stories about people who'd waited years and years for their soulmates.

Glancing around at the people at the party, she couldn't help but feel a little sad. It would have made life that little bit easier, had her soulmate been one of the people she already knew and loved. Still, it gave her a year to concentrate on her career, and for that, she was at least a little bit thankful.

"Hermione! It's your birthday! Why are you still sober?" George asked loudly, choosing that moment to loop his arm around her shoulders. He gently pushed her along towards the bar and she laughed, pushing him away.

"Not everybody needs to be drunk to have a good time, you lush," she replied, wrinkling her nose at him.

"Bah," he replied, waving his hand at her. "S'only right, it's ya twenty-first. If you leave this pub sober, we've all failed as your friends, and I'll have you know that you have the best friends in the world. So. Drink!"

She took the drink he offered without protest, wincing when it burned her throat when she gulped it.

"What is that?" she asked, coughing.

George looked sheepish as he shrugged. "Alcoholic?"

…

1864

Hermione blinked at her wrist as the end number flicked down to a four. How did she only have thirty-one hours left?

Granted, she hadn't exactly kept track as the numbers lessened, but… where had fourteen months gone?

Drying herself off from the shower, she put her comfiest pajamas on, and crawled into bed. It was just past one in the morning, and she knew she had a lot of work to do for the next few days.

That she'd meet her soulmate the morning after tomorrow… she didn't really know what to think of that. At eight, twenty four, she'd find out who she was to live the rest of her life with.

The prospect was slightly terrifying.

She knew, of course, that some people chose not to follow their predestined partnerships; knew that occasionally, there were people so deeply in love with those of their own choosing that they refused to follow their paths; knew that deaths happened, and especially with the war during her adolescence, there were quite a few people without soulmates.

Still, a small seed of hope was growing in her stomach, that maybe, just maybe, she'd have what she'd always dreamed of. A real relationship with someone who really understood her. Someone she could talk to, someone who wouldn't mind her reading in front of the fire on a Saturday night instead of going out to the hottest party. Someone who didn't care so much about the materialistic side of life, who understood that sometimes, it really is the thought that is important.

Someone who wouldn't want her to change.

Someone she wouldn't want to change.

She fell asleep with that thought on her mind, the tension in her body falling away as the sandman took her into a world filled with hope of a love as strong as her parents.

…

12

She was running horribly late, and she blamed the numbers on her wrist for her bad luck. She'd found herself faffing in front of the mirror for a ridiculously long time, trying to perfect her hair and the small amount of makeup she favoured, and then again, the same palava in front of her closet, trying to pick out her most flattering work outfit.

Now she didn't even really have time to call to the coffee shop on the way in.

She dithered for a moment, before deciding that being five minutes late to work was better than going the whole morning without the life-sustaining liquids she found at the coffee shop across from the phone box entrance for the Ministry.

5

She stood in the queue, impatiently tapping her foot as the people in front of her talked leisurely.

"Can I take your order?" The counter girl asked, her tone bored as she talked around her gum.

Hermione grit her teeth, narrowing her eyes slightly. "Large vanilla latte to go, please," she asked, handing over a crisp ten pound note.

The girl nodded, adding the receipt to the order list as she handed over Hermione's change. "It'll be a few minutes."

Hermione nodded, raising her eyes to the roof for a moment before she moved off to the side to allow the next person to place their own order.

0.51

0.50

0.49

"Large Vanilla Latte, to go?"

Hermione held out her hand to take the coffee gratefully, masterfully maneuvering to the sugar stand as soon as the cup was in her hand. She emptied two of the small sachets in and stirred, before putting the lid back on and heading for the door.

0.4

0.3

0.2

As Hermione barrelled through the door, she didn't notice the man walking through the doorway at the same time and ran straight into him. She heard a yelp of pain as the lid burst off her cup at impact and hot coffee emptied all over them.

She looked up as a slight sting shot through her wrist.

Recognisable grey eyes met hers for a moment, before simultaneously, they both pulled the sleeves back to look at their now bare wrists.

"Miss Granger."

The smooth tones of the man before her washed over her, and she barely managed to hold the shiver that threatened to pass over her.

"Mr Malfoy," she replied, willing away the tears that tried to well in her eyes. She pushed past the blonde onto the street, all thoughts of work forgotten.

Lucius Malfoy was her soulmate.

All hope vanished in an instant as the gravity of the situation fell upon her. Lucius Malfoy. What on earth was she going to do?

She moved through the streets, paying no mind to her direction as she walked, her mind ticking over all the things she knew about him.

She knew about the bad things he'd done. He'd tried, on more than one occasion, to kill her, after all. That wasn't an easily forgotten thing, no matter that she'd supported Harry in his campaign for the Malfoy's during the trials.

She knew that his wife had left him within weeks of said trials, and was now happily bonded with Kingsley Shacklebolt.

She knew that Draco had spent almost three years not speaking with his father, until Harry had talked him into a meeting.

Truth be told, she didn't know much about him as a person. She didn't know if he still believed in the preposterous thoughts of the Death Eaters, of if he hated Muggle-Borns and Muggles, or -

She swiped angrily at the tears that had found their way onto her cheeks, just as an arm caught her from behind.

"Please wait," she heard the smooth voice say quietly, and she turned to find Lucius standing behind her, no sign of the coffee she'd unintentionally spilled all over him. She hadn't even thought to magic away the evidence of it on her own shirt, and she was sure she must look quite a state.

"Don't cry," he murmured. "I don't expect anything from you, Miss Granger. I just… I just wanted you to know that… Well. I've waited for you for a long time."

Sniffing, Hermione forced herself to meet his eyes. She saw a kindness in them that surprised her, and she could hear the sincerity in his words.

"I…"

She didn't know what to say. Not often did Hermione find herself speechless, but the impact of finding out her soulmate had indeed rendered her silent.

"Allow me to court you?" he almost begged, and when she looked down, she could see his fingers twitching, as though he wanted to reach out and take her hand. "Allow me to show you that I'm more than what you grew up believing me to be. That I've changed."

Hesitating, Hermione took a slight step back so she could look at him without craning her neck. It also helped with the impulse to reach out and touch him.

"Perhaps we can start slowly?" she offered after a moment. "Coffee, or… something?"

His lips twitched. "Well, you've already thrown your coffee at me once; I don't suppose it could get much worse than that, no?"

She chuckled despite herself.

"I'd love to take you for coffee," he said, a genuine smile on his face. "Owl me, when you pick a time and place, and I'll be there."

She was relieved that he wasn't pushing her, that he'd left the choice to her. She nodded, taking her wand out, and with a brief check around them for Muggles, she spelled her clothes clean.

"I, uh, should get to work. I'm already late."

Lucius nodded. "I look forward to seeing you soon, Miss Granger."

Smiling wryly, Hermione said, "I've thrown coffee on you. You should probably be allowed to call me Hermione."