Chapter Text
Like every year, Harry Potter was awake at 11:59 pm on July the 30th, waiting to wish himself a happy birthday. But this year was different, in one minute he would turn 19 and his soul mark would manifest. After a lifetime of fighting for everyone else he would finally have something for himself - a soulmate.
As the seconds counted down a tingling warmth on his wrists heralded the beginning of the manifestation, growing with intensity as light began to glow on his arms. As the light subsided, words began to form, there along the crease of his inner arm where his wrist transitioned into palm. On the left the text was delicate, curved with bold flourishes. On the right it was thin and spikey, more utilitarian than the left sides striking calligraphy. Two soul mates!
His breathing stuttered with the reality that there were two people meant to love him above all others. Who would prioritize, protect, and care for him. Then, his breathing stopped entirely as the names became clear.
On the left, Tom Marvolo Riddle. On the right, Severus Tobias Snape.
He was soul mated to a pair of dead men.
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It took Harry a few days to process this revelation, and a few weeks to decide what to do about it.
Initially Harry hoped to just hide the marks and move on. Neither man had ever been an object of his desire in his past, aside from a few confusing dreams about a young Tom Riddle after Harry had found the diary in second year, and he was confident he could proceed through life as he was - without the need for a soul mate.
However, this foolish hope was short-lived. Now that he knew what could have been he was consumed by regrets of the past, plagued by the what-ifs.
His research into soul marks was unhelpful, with the general consensus being that the soul bond was not limited by time or distance and in some cases one partner would have the mark of someone who had already passed. There were rituals to find a soulmate of course, to identify if they were alive or how far away they are, but there was nothing to be done for those poor souls whose mates were dead before they were found. Even worse, there was no way to force the manifestation of a soul mark from someone who had yet to live 19 years. If a soul mate died young or hadn't yet been born there was no way of knowing, one simply had to wait and hope for the future.
Harry was confident the delayed marking was part of what drove Tom mad, with his first soul mark not appearing until he was 53 years old and had already begun the first war, created several horcruxes and recruited said soulmate into the ranks of Death Eaters. Along those lines Harry further mused the likelihood that Severus might never have known who his soul mate was, the identity of Tom Riddle having been discarded by Voldemort before Severus was even born. It was tragic, really, to consider the pain his soul mates had experienced at the hands of fate, as well as one another. More tragic still to know that the deaths of all three had been at the hands of each other.
Six weeks after his birthday Harry knew with certainty he couldn't be with anyone else. He knew his soul mates; their pasts and motivations and short-comings. He knew where they had been driven towards their own downfall. He knew their potential for greatness. What he didn't yet know was how to reclaim them.
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Being the Boy Who Lived / Chosen One / Man Who Conquered had generally been more weight of responsibility than privilege in Harry's experience. Now, as he was led on a private tour of the Department of Mysteries by the head unspeakable, he realized that perhaps he had been underutilizing his fame.
He’d brought Hermione along, knowing her overwhelming curiosity would serve to cover his own actions, her rapid questions and subsequent discussion in each room dominating the attentions of the Unspeakable who led them. He trailed behind, observing quietly and chiming in infrequently. As they moved through the time room his slight of hand near the rack of time turners went unnoticed.
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The goblins still viewed him with thinly veiled distrust. He counted himself lucky to be the head of two Noble Houses, knowing that the goblins only tolerated his presence due to the hoards of Black and Potter gold they collected interest on. Still, he was only allowed below ground to visit his own vaults, which had since been moved to within walking distance of the entrance, with a guard of both goblins and curse breakers overseeing his visits.
Harry toured each vault in turn that day, carefully considering each item and its usefulness in the next phase of his plan. He carried several magically expanded trunks, which he filled as he moved along; books, jewels, gold, and spelled items. The goblins watched suspiciously, equal parts glad to see he might not return for a while and nervous to see what trouble he planned to cause with his plunder.
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On the first of October, Harry Potter was ready. His various trunks had been shrunk and placed in his pockets, his invisibility cloak he wore just in case he landed somewhere public. Taking a deep breath, he began to twist the time turner.