Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling. No money is being made.
Written for The Daily Weird Prompt Thing – Halloween Edition
Prompt: Blood
Tidal Wave
Blood. Blood, blood, blood. That was all that truly mattered. Since he had stepped foot in the Wizarding World it was all he heard about.
Pureblood, Halfblood, Mudblood.
As a tiny eleven year old that had just been introduced to a wonderful world full of magic, he hadn't understood. He had been so consumed by the novelty of magic being real, of being free from his relatives, of not being a freak, that the reality of the world he had just entered into simply didn't register in his mind.
Then again, as young as he had been, even if it had registered, he might not have understood it.
It took years – blood stained, horror filled years – for him to finally see the truth. For him to understand just how drenched in blood their society was. It took war and loss, but he finally knew.
He wasn't eleven years old anymore.
He knew now that Blood was all that mattered.
Even he had fought for blood.
They may say that he had fought against Voldemort for freedom, that he had killed the Dark Lord to bring an end to his reign of terror. But the truth was that he had fought for blood.
He had fought to take the purebloods from power. He had fought for Blood equality.
It had always been about blood.
He wanted to say that life was better, that it had been worth it, but he had stopped lying to himself a long time ago.
They may not live under the rule of a madman, but aside from that everything had remained the same. The hierarchy was still established by blood, and the pure were still at the top.
It was infuriating to see that what he had fought for, what he had bled for, had been destroyed before it even had a chance to flourish. In a society so entrenched in blood, how could he have expected anything else? A fool's dream, that was all it ever was.
"Harry?"
He glanced up at his pureblood wife, with their pureblood son, and a bitter smirk twisted his lips.
"Harry, are you coming to bed?"
"I'll join you in a little while, just have to finish this."
She nodded, smiling at him, and went to put the fussing child in her arms to bed. He continued to look after her, remembering years gone by where she had defended equal rights with a ferocity fit for a mother lion.
That passion had long since been extinguished.
She still believed in it, she still wished for it, but you can only take so much before you break. After years of fighting and seeing nothing change… it would have demoralized anyone.
Their world was ruled by blood; they had accepted it.
They had conformed to it, and Harry absolutely despised it.
He hated being looked at as if he were trash by people he had died for, simply because of his blood. He hated that his sister in all but blood was overlooked because she wasn't pure enough. He hated that the son of his heart was scorned because he was a half-breed.
Which was why he sat on the bed beside his wife, caressing her silky hair and placing a soft kiss on her forehead. He saw a tear at the corner of her eye and kissed it away before standing up and leaving the room. He pretended not to hear the sobs that followed.
He apparated away.
Moments later he was in front of a sea of black robes and blood red masks.
The world refused to change, so they would make it change in the only way their society seemed to understand.
With a word from him they were gone.
They swept over the Wizarding World like a tidal wave, painting the streets in red.
Blood had always been the only thing they understood.