Harry stared at the words again.
Steve Branton is president? Seriously?
He knew that if Steve Branton became their president, all was over.
The man was psychotic, with no respect for anyone except himself. He was ugly, inside and out, and Harry was terrified at the thought of him leading their country.
Harry decided his mark was a blessing. It gave him time to prevent this.
So Harry, age twenty-four, went through the processes of becoming President himself.
(I don't know the processes so.....)
After so many months campaigning against Steve Branton, Harry was down to his final talk with newscasters before polls would open.
"So, Mr. Potter," the lady asked him in front of his audience. "What prompted you to want to become president?"
"My soul mark," Harry replied, smiling. At confused whispers, he smiled and held up his left hand, revealing his wrist.
"It says 'Steve Branton is president? Seriously?' Yes. I know it sounds dumb to run against someone if my soul mark tells me I'll lose, but I don't know the context. The thought of Steve Branton leading this country is a sickening thought. He's a psychopath with eyes out only for himself, and he'll do anything to reach his goals, no matter how many people he hurts."
Harry continued through his interview, and later that day polls opened.
********
Harry held his breath as the final votes were calculated.
Congratulations, President Potter!
Harry sighed happily, and people around him laughed and hugged him, happy for him.
********
For weeks in office, girls had been coming into Harry's office with the statement of "Steve Branton is president? Seriously?"
When Harry's response didn't match to any of them, they left, dejected.
Harry was sitting at his desk, signing papers, when a light knock was at his door. Before Harry could say anything, a smooth, mocking voice said the repetitive sentence.
"Steve Branton is president? Seriously?"
Harry turned around, laughing slightly at the blonde leaning against his door, a smile on his face. He recognized him as one of his secretary's assistants.
"For the love of God, why?" Harry asked, laughing.
He smirked. "Worth a shot. And apparently, it worked."
Harry looked up, shocked, to see the blonde holding up his hand so his wrist faced Harry. Harry could clearly read the words printed there.
For the love of God, why?
"You have no idea how long I was confused about this," the blonde laughed.
Harry was speechless. He had found his soulmate.
"Thanks for the warning. I guess without it, I wouldn't be president," Harry said, laughing slightly.
"What does this mean? I'm the First Lady?" The boy's voice was teasing.
"Well, I should know your name first."
"Draco Malfoy."
"Well, Draco, would you like coffee?"
Draco smirked again. "Whatever you want, Mister President sir."
"Shut up," Harry laughed. "Or you will be my First Lady."
"I do look good in a dress."