Harry used to wonder what was wrong with him. Why didn’t his family care? What was it that made him unlovable? That’s what Uncle Vernon said. Even at his ripe old age of four, Harry couldn’t understand why.
For a while, he thought it was just the way they were. Maybe they didn’t have any love on the inside to give away.
…But that wasn’t true. They loved Dudley. Harry could tell by the way Aunt Petunia would kiss his cousin’s cheek in the morning. Or the way his Uncle would ruffle Dudley’s hair. They loved Dudley but yet they hated Harry. Why? What could he have possibly done?
Perhaps he really was unloved? Maybe something really was wrong with him? If they could show love to Dudley, then that meant that Harry was just broken?
It wasn’t until Harry was six that he felt his hand start to burn and he knew that the Dursleys had lied to him! The unbearable pain was the sign of a soulmate bond forming.
The only thing that made the pain and the tears worth it, was when Harry looked down and saw the name of the person that was made to love him.
Draco Malfoy
Harry traced the letters on his tender skin and marveled at the name. He knew that everyone had a soulmate and that this wasn’t technically special… but to Harry it was. This meant that there really was someone out there that could love him. They might not, Draco could even dislike him. But there was still a chance of love. Maybe they could be friends? Maybe they could be enemies? Maybe they would just be people who pretended to get along? None of that mattered, Harry would take Draco in any way possible. Because somewhere there was someone peering down at their own palm and seeing his name on it, wondering what kind of person Harry was.
Hopefully, he would live up to the expectation.
“No nephew of mine is going to be homosexual!” Those words were reverberating inside Harry’s mind as he tried to make himself smaller, even in the privacy of his cupboard. What did it matter if his soulmate was a boy? Didn’t it just show that a boy could love him? Didn’t it just show that love happened in many different ways? Why did it matter if the name was a boy?
Personally, Harry had never even heard of the name Draco before. Did it sound masculine? Wasn’t his Uncle being a little presumptuous?
Harry closed his eyes and tried so hard to picture what his soulmate would look like. Would they be a boy? Would they be a girl? Would they have long hair? Short hair? Would they have red hair? Black hair? Blonde hair? Brown hair? He didn’t care either way. The beating of his heart just ached for understanding. That’s all he wanted from his soulmate was understanding. If they could look at him and see someone worth taking a chance, then that’s all he could ask for.
“Draco.” Harry whispered, tracing the name on his palm softly.
His entire youth, the Dursleys forced Harry to wear gloves. They didn’t want anyone to see that his soulmate was a boy. Or even someone with such an odd name.
