Disclaimer: I am not JKR. As such, I don't own Harry Potter or its related works.

Author's Note: A (significantly shorter) companion to my oneshot "Golden On My Skin" that delves into the meaning behind the different colors soulmarks can have. If you like this, check out Golden On My Skin as well :)

A basic premise of the universe is that each and every person carries a soulmark on their skin, most often in gold, though some have soulmarks in different colors.

Also I have messed with the ages slightly. Narcissa, instead of being two years younger than Andromeda, is a year older than Sirius. In summer 1968, Regulus has just turned 7, Sirius will turn 9 in the coming fall, Narcissa will be 10 shortly before that, Andromeda is 15 (about to start her fifth year) and Bellatrix 17 (about to start her final year), though she is only mentioned.

Unbetaed. Any and all mistakes are mine. (Feel free to point them out :))

Enjoy!

Five Times Cassiopeia Black Had All The Answers And One Time Someone Else Had Them Instead

I. Gold

Summer 1968

"It is said in myths and legends," she began, her voice low and soft, "that when wizardkind was created, they were created not as one but always with another, one who fit them like no other ever would. Each one of a pair was in these olden days gifted with an innate knowledge of their other half so that when the time was right they might find one another. And when they found each other they performed feats of magic so extraordinary that we as we are today can scarce imagine them.

"Their power was so great that some began to think themselves above life and death and the limits they set us. They sought to bend the rules, sought to cross the boundaries as they wished and for a time they did. It was in this time that our darkest arts were born and slowly, the veil between the worlds began to thin. It became dangerous to walk most anywhere for the dead were restless and the living easily ensnared.

"At last, magic itself intervened. It saw the pain wizardkind had inflicted upon life and death, its siblings, and it found fury in its gentle heart. It raised its hand against us, that we had been its beloved children, and destroyed the source of our greatest power for it broke the bonds that had once tied one to the other. The souls were set adrift, lost and lonely without their partners, and they grieved terribly. Some grieved themselves to death. And it was death that showed them mercy.

"It could not restore what magic had taken to what it had once been and it had no desire to, but it gifted each soul with a mark, a way to find the one it longed for more easily. The bond two souls share will never again be the same as it was, but some of the magic remains in our marks.

"They have been called many things over the years. Witch marks, death's touch, love's kiss. Today, we call them soulmarks." She looked over her audience, all four of them completely enraptured, and smiled. "Golden marks like each of you carries." She regarded them solemnly and all of them returned her gaze unflinchingly.

"Aunt Cassie?" Andromeda asked and Cassiopeia smiled at her.

"Yes dear?"

"What is a soulmate exactly?"

"A soulmate," she replied, her voice measured, "is a perfect person."

"Perfect how?" demanded Sirius and Cassiopeia threw him a look.

"It is rude to interrupt your elders," she chided him before she allowed her demeanor to soften. "Your soulmate will be perfect for you and no one else. They will be the one person that can always make you smile, the one person that you want to be with when you're upset. They will understand you like no one else could and you will understand them the same way in return. Soulmates are…" she paused, "they're the love of a lifetime."

Sirius wrinkled his nose and made a little gagging noise at those words. Next to him, his brother appeared uncertain whether he should be disgusted by the thought or not. Narcissa had no such troubles. She seemed enamored with the idea and her expression had turned dreamy.

Cassiopeia turned to share an amused look with Andromeda, but the eldest of her listeners was lost in thought.

"How does one recognize their soulmate?" she asked after a while, her voice incredibly soft.

Cassiopeia smiled as the younger three turned to her, all equally curious despite their varied reactions. "There are a few ways," she said slowly. "You are each of you marked with an animal, are you not?" They nodded and Narcissa's hand travelled to her side. "This animal is your soulmate's patronus. And they, in turn, are marked with yours. So when either of you sees the other's patronus, you'll know."

She paused and they were silent for a while. Then, Andromeda spoke. "You said there were a few ways."

"Just one more, really," Cassiopeia replied. "When your soulmate touches your mark you can… it's a little like a jolt of…" she sighed. "It's hard to explain. But it's a pleasant sensation. You'll know when you feel it."

"How can you be so sure?" Andromeda asked hesitantly.

"I've felt it, darling. Believe me, there's no mistaking that." A gong sounded downstairs and Cassiopeia rose. "Just like there's no mistaking dinner. Come now, your mothers will be terribly cross with me if we are late."

The four of them got to their feet and trickled out one by one and Cassiopeia closed her eyes for just a moment and wished for a happy ending for each and every one of them. It was a wish that would not be granted.

II. Silver

Spring 1969

Cassiopeia sat in her armchair supervising a needle that she had charmed to embroider a pillowcase with stars when a light knock sounded on the door. "Enter," she called and the door swung open to admit Andromeda.

"Good afternoon, Aunt Cassie," she said softly. "Do you have a moment?"

"Certainly, dear," Cassiopeia replied, waving her wand so that her needlework tied itself off and settled onto the coffee table. "Have a seat."

Andromeda sat carefully. She had never acquired the effortless grace her younger sister had already mastered even though Andromeda was nearing 16, while Narcissa was not yet eleven. "May I ask you a question?"

"You may."

"What does it mean when a mark is silver?"

Cassiopeia sighed. "This is about your sister, is it not?" she asked and Andromeda nodded slowly.

"I spoke to Bella," she told her quietly. "I asked her why she was marrying Lestrange and she said… she said not everyone gets a golden happily-ever-after."

Once again, Cassiopeia sighed. "No one is exactly sure why some people are marked in silver. But we do know what it means." She paused for a moment while Andromeda fixed piercing grey eyes on her. "Silver," she said finally, "is the color of a love unrequited."

Andromeda said nothing for a while, her eyes focused on something far away that Cassiopeia couldn't see and she'd almost taken up her needlework again, when Andromeda finally broke the silence. "That's not how soulmarks are supposed to work," she said decisively and Cassiopeia smiled sadly.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because," Andromeda's voice rose and Cassiopeia saw what most people did not, for the girl in front of her resembled her elder sister in more than just appearance, "because it's wrong! You said, last summer you said that soulmates were a pair, half of a whole!"

"Such they are," Cassiopeia replied calmly. "And such is Bella. It is simply the case that her other half for one reason or another cannot reciprocate, so the bond remains forever unfinished."

"That's terribly cruel," Andromeda said, her edges softening, and Cassiopeia smiled at her.

"It is," she agreed. "It is unbelievably cruel. But such is the way of the world, dear."

Andromeda looked at her hands. "Why do you just… accept it like that?"

"I do, because I've learned that there is nothing I can do to change it."

Her niece got up abruptly. "I don't believe that," she said firmly before she turned around and left.

"I wish you luck, Andromeda Lycoris. I wish you luck," Cassiopeia whispered to the empty room.

III. Bronze

Winter 1974

"Aunt Cassie?" She looked up and saw Narcissa slip into the conservatory.

"Narcissa," she replied. "What brings you here?"

"I have a question." The girl's voice was soft and somewhat hesitant.

"Do you now?" Cassiopeia smiled and when she received a nod in reply, continued, "Well, perhaps I have an answer for you, so why don't you ask me your question?"

"Can soulmarks change color?"

Cassiopeia could see how much it was costing her to ask this question. Narcissa had always been far more aware of what was proper than her sisters and speaking about soulmarks was most certainly not. "They can. What brings this about, sweetheart?"

The blonde studied her hands. "I was simply wondering," she said finally. Cassiopeia knew that it was more than that, Narcissa never would have come to her because of something she was simply wondering about, but she didn't push it. "You've spoken to us about golden marks," the girl continued, "and… Andy once told me why Bella's mark is silver, but… mother's mark is neither nor is father's and I wondered if they always were like that."

"They were not," Cassiopeia replied. "Your parents' marks were once as golden as yours."

"Does it mean something? The way gold and silver do?"

"It does indeed, darling. It does indeed." She smiled at her nephew's youngest daughter and watched her consider that. Behind Narcissa's light blue eyes thoughts were racing and it struck Cassiopeia suddenly how different she was from her elder sisters and how very much alike the three of them were at the same time. Narcissa was fair-haired and quiet where her sisters were dark-haired and bold, but the three of them had the same iron will, the same fierce determination. They simply showed it differently. And Narcissa's way of showing it was perhaps the most Slytherin.

"What does bronze mean?" the girl's quiet voice drew Cassiopeia from her thoughts and it was only years of practice spotting insecurities that allowed her to hear the hint of a tremble in it.

She held out her hands and Narcissa took them. "Bronze is… it is the color of a bond betrayed."

"A bond betrayed," the blonde echoed and Cassiopeia squeezed her hands lightly.

"Aye," she said softly. "Your parents are not soulmates and when your mother married your father her mark turned first red and then bronze."

"Father's mark is not bronze," Narcissa pointed out.

"No, the color of his mark means something else," she paused, glancing at the stars on her own hands. "But that, darling, is an answer for another day. One that is not quite so dreary." And Narcissa nodded, because unlike her sisters she knew when not to push. Cassiopeia smiled at her. "Now, could you perhaps be persuaded to take tea with an old woman?"

"You're not old, Aunt Cassie," the girl protested.

Cassiopeia laughed. "I am old enough, dear girl."

IV. None

Summer 1972

"Cassie," a voice said from the entrance and Cassiopeia looked up. She raised an eyebrow at the boy in the door.

"You may call me Aunt Cassie or Cassiopeia if you do not wish to acknowledge our relation, but I do not recall giving you permission to call me Cassie, Sirius." She didn't raise her voice, but he deflated slightly. "Come now," she said. "Sit."

Sirius stepped into the room and for once closed the door behind himself before he walked to the couch and let himself fall onto it. He, like Narcissa, was effortlessly graceful. But where her grace was precise and gentle and unobtrusive, his was bold and careless and somehow disdainful of itself.

"Can people have no mark?" he asked, blunt as always.

"Do try for a little more tact," she chided him, but her smile was fond. "It is indeed possible, if rare, for someone to be unmarked."

Sirius paused thoughtfully. "How does that work? Why does it happen?"

"No one knows for sure," Cassiopeia replied. "The legends say that when death granted us mercy, some souls were beyond its reach. They were too consumed by their grief, too wrapped up in their rage to allow it near the part of themselves that held the connection so they never received a mark. Some think that unmarked souls are broken, but I don't believe that."

"Why not?" Sirius asked her. She knew he was not asking for himself, he was without a doubt marked, but from the way he leaned forward slightly she was sure he was asking for someone he cared about.

"One of my dearest friends is not marked. And she has the kindest, most caring soul I have ever encountered. She is married and she loves her husband deeply, just as he loves her in return." She paused. "Marks don't dictate anything, Sirius," she told her cousin's grandson softly. "They don't mean you will only ever love that person. They don't mean that you will meet and instantly fall in love. They don't even guarantee that you will meet them. The only thing a golden mark tells you is that someone out there will one day be perfect for you. The rest…" She shook her head. "There is no guarantee for a happy ending. Not even soulmarks can do that."

Sirius looked at her silently for a moment. "Yours didn't," he said certainly and Cassiopeia inclined her head.

"It did not," she agreed.

"Why didn't you do what your friend did? Why didn't you find your happy ending with someone else?"

"Because I didn't want to," Cassiopeia replied. "I didn't want someone new in my life. I had had a few years and for me, that was enough. It is enough. My happy ending is this."

He shook his head. "That's..."

She laughed a little. "I'm not saying that's what you have to do if you ever find yourself in my place. It is simply what I did."

He got up. "Thanks," he said.

"You are quite welcome," she told him. "Have I satisfied your curiosity then?"

"Yeah…" he walked to the door.

"Don't let Melania hear you say that."

Sirius grinned at her. "Yeah," he repeated, before he slipped out of the room. Cassiopeia shook her head slightly and waved her wand at the door to close it. Sirius was something unto himself. At least this time she'd been able to answer his questions.

V. Black

Winter 1977

Cassiopeia stood at the window and looked out over the snow-covered grounds. It was an absolutely stunning winter day, the kind that most children spent outside until their noses were red with cold, but these lawns had rarely seen that kind of joy. She sighed quietly. Behind her, the door opened. "Aunt Cassie," Regulus said, his voice soft and thoughtful.

She turned around. "Regulus," she replied, smiling faintly. He lingered in the door until she waved him over and he moved to stand beside her. Both of them turned to the window and then they simply stood together in silence for a while. Regulus, unlike his brother, had never minded silence. And Cassiopeia had to admit that she preferred his quiet, thoughtful company to Sirius' loud and bright presence.

"May I ask you something?" She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye to find him still calmly regarding the lawns behind the manor, but the set of his lips belied how important this was to him. It was the only thing she could deduce from his expression and it was only because he was letting her, she was very aware. All of them had perfected their masks early on. Bellatrix's was violent. It was the raging, burning fire she showed to the world to hide all else from view. Andromeda's was thoughtful. She had always played the part of the silent observer to conceal her true thoughts. Narcissa's was a smile and she wore it like armor and used it like a weapon. Sirius's was his laugh. He was loud and bold and he laughed at everything so no one would realize how much he knew of cruelty, both others' and his own. But it was Regulus' mask that scared her, for while the others hid behind emotions and expressions, the face of the youngest simply went blank. And if he didn't want them to, no one could glean anything from him then. "May I?" he repeated into her silence and she tore herself from her thoughts.

"You may," she told him.

"What does it mean when a soulmark turns black?"

She turned to look at him, but he kept his gaze fixed on the snow. "Nothing joyous," she replied. "But you knew that, didn't you?"

He inclined his head. "Cosette Greengrass' mark turned black. She wasn't in class for a full week. And even when she returned she looked… different. Empty."

Cassiopeia sighed deeply. "Poor girl," she whispered. "Poor, poor thing."

"What does it mean, Aunt Cassie?"

"A soulmark turns black when the person it represents dies," she said simply and not even Regulus could hide the harsh swallow or the fear in his eyes. She knew what he was thinking of, whom he was thinking of.

"I'm going to ask her to marry me," he said after the silence had stretched on for a while.

Cassiopeia smiled. "Let me take you into the vaults?" she requested. "There are a few rings that might be suitable."

+ I. White

Summer 1975

When Cassiopeia returned to her rooms, she found Sirius lounging in her armchair. She raised an eyebrow at him, but he just regarded her calmly. "Have a seat, Cassiopeia," he said motioning to the couch and she wanted to reprimand him, but something about his demeanor stopped her and she sat. "Today," he told her, "I have the answers. So ask the question."

She looked at him silently for a moment. "Which question?" she asked finally.

"The one you didn't know the answer to," he replied and from the way he looked at her, she knew it was a challenge.

They sat in silence as she tried to figure out what he meant. "I was nine," he prompted after a while and she finally remembered. He had indeed been nine years old when he first approached her with a question on soulmarks burning on his lips. She still recalled the absolutely disappointed look on his face when she had to tell him she didn't have an answer for him.

Cassiopeia lifted her head and looked him in the eyes. He wasn't nine any longer, that much was certain.

"What does it mean when a soulmark is white?"

Sirius smiled. "White," he told her, "is the color of platonic bonds."

"Platonic," she echoed surprised and he laughed.

"Never heard of that, have you?" He didn't wait for a reply. Instead, he just forged on. "Platonic soulmarks are the rarest kind. Rarer even than silver ones. They're pretty obscure because of it. But they exist."

"How do you know?" she asked him.

"I have one," he said simply.

Cassiopeia felt her eyebrows rise. "You have a golden mark, Sirius. Everyone can see that."

His hand rose to his cheek as she spoke and he chuckled slightly. "You know what's even rarer than having a white mark?" he asked and she shook her head just a little. "Having two marks."

"That's not possible," she protested.

"I assure you," he said, "it is entirely possible."

They regarded each other silently for a while until she asked, "How do you know all this?"

He smiled and got up out of the chair. "Euphemia told me," he replied as he walked to the door. "Goodbye Cassie."

She didn't know what prompted her not to protest the name, but she simply inclined her head and said, "Goodbye Sirius."

He left the room without another word and she didn't know it then, but it was to be the last time she ever saw him in person.

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