does not conform with HP7 epilogue.
Harry Potter walked along Typick Alley, trying to sort out if it was worth buying a new pair of boots here or it there would be less hassles from people if he went somewhere else, a muggle shop or maybe a less accessible cobbler.
After Voldemort had been killed in the final battle, along with a great many of the Death Eaters that had been present, the Wizarding public's opinion of him had shifted firmly to 'brave hero suffering trials and steep odds to triumph and save them all.' Thankfully, it hadn't come with any new hyphenated monikers that he would have to suffer through.
He'd spent the last two years in a fairly quiet manner, avoiding press conferences, avoiding most of the big parties and events. Instead, he'd quietly taken the time to study for his NEWTs, adding OWLs in Arithmancy and Runes while he was at it. In addition to his actual formal schooling, he'd hired a tutor to teach him about the wizarding world, the traditions, the holidays, some of the beliefs and explanations for little things that Hogwarts hadn't covered. Oh, he knew that wizards didn't seem to ever mix tomatoes and lamb, but he had no idea why. Or why wizards held such a deep fear of muggles and mixed blood - not wizarding muggle, but part giant, part veela, part goblin.
Harry was pleased to say that he now knew almost as much about those simple things that ever wizarding raised person knew as a child ready to start Hogwarts. He'd long since lost count of the number of times he'd cursed Dumbledore's meddling for preventing him from growing up in the wizarding world and knowing this, for inflicting him with the Dursleys instead. Not that insulting Dumbledore or calling him a manipulating, self-important control freak who wouldn't tell anybody what the bloody hell was going on actually fixed anything, but it did make him feel a little better.
"P... Harry, can I have a word with you?" the voice came from a young woman with dark red hair.
Harry looked at her, part of him thinking that she looked very attractive, and that the deep blue color was very good for her. Another part analyzed that she had a wand tucked in her sleeve, he was fairly certain that she wasn't in a good position to attack, and he knew her from school. A few moments and he placed her as Daphne Greengrass, though he supposed she could have married since they'd been in school. "Daphne... of course. Would this word or two be better off the middle of the street?"
"I think so. There's a small plaza just down this way, we could sit on one of the benches for these words," she had a small smile, one that suggested either she was amused by something, or whatever she wanted was important enough to fake amusement and good cheer. There was also a hint of worry beneath the apparent humor.
Harry followed her, deciding that if she was willing to talk in the little plaza, then whatever she had to say, at least for the moment, couldn't be anything too embarrassing or sensitive. Either that or it was on public record anyhow... The view was nice too.
They settled on a small bench, each to one end, facing each other, the bench long enough that their knees didn't touch. She took a moment and then asked, "How much do you know about the ways the old families do things?"
"Not as much as I should, not as much as I'd like," Harry sighed, running one hand through his hair, "But a good deal more than I ever did in school. I did grow up among muggles, and there seemed to be a concerted effort to keep me from learning much about my family, the wizarding government, or wizarding history."
"But what possible benefit... never mind, I suppose that's something for another time. It just means that I'll need to explain a bit more," Daphne sighed. "My family needs help, and I think you can provide it."
"In what manner might I be able to assist you, and what is the problem?" Harry asked. He didn't recall hearing about any rampaging creatures or up and coming dark wizards.
"There were a few stories in the Daily Prophet that claimed your godfather was Sirius Black, is that true? Was he your godfather?" Daphne's expression was serious.
Harry nodded, though he had no idea how the identity of his now deceased godfather could have any bearing on whatever was bothering Daphne. "He was. I assume that this connects somehow?"
"There is an old agreement between the Black and the Greengrass families concerning the marriages of daughters. In short, there's due to be a wedding between the families within a generation or two, assuming a son of Black and a daughter of Greengrass and no other promises. I'm engaged to Theo, which means that I'm safe, but..." Daphne paused, taking a slow breath before she whispered, "I have a younger sister."
"I don't think there are any males left carrying the Black name..." Harry winced as he remembered the Black family tree. Narcissa Black had married Lucius Malfoy, and the pair of them had produced... "The ferrety git."
"Exactly," Daphne's expression suggested that her own opinion of Draco Malfoy might be quite close to Harry's. "I spent seven years in the same House at Hogwarts with him, he's not the sort that I want my little sister anywhere near."
"I thought there was something between him and Pansy?" Harry frowned.
"Pansy's father was marked and died at Hogwarts, just like Lucius Malfoy. My father isn't marked, isn't dead, and didn't have to pay the reprisals that the Death Eater families were stuck with. So my sister's a pureblood, five years younger than he is, and has a dowry..." Daphne let her words trail off.
"Five years... so she's taking her OWLs this year?" Harry offered. He had learned that dowries were still quite common in the wizarding world, and part of the reason why muggle-born and halfblood witches often had trouble marrying into older wizard families.
"Yes, and she's actually looking forward to them, the studious little Ravenclaw that she is," Daphne paused to shake her head. "Of course, Astoria's met the ferret, and would rather not marry him."
Harry blinked, trying to wrap his mind around someone actually looking forward to the OWLs, and sighed. "I can see the problem. What I don't see - and this is probably my limited awareness of wizarding tradition kicking in again - is how I could be of assistance. Kindly spell it out for me?"
Daphne chuckled, and then smirked, "Fine, I'll spell things out for you Potter. Your paternal grandmother was Dorea Black, who was the daughter of a Head of the Black Family, combined with the fact that your godfather was the last Head of the Family. I'm not sure if the courts have finished sorting out who should be the next Head or if the family's going under, but still... Those two combine to give you as strong a claim as the ferret, who's mother was a cousin to the last couple Heads. To be blunt, you qualify as much as a Black to marry a Greengrass daughter as the ferret, and are a far more appealing choice."
"You want me to marry your sister, to save her from Malfoy?" Harry blinked. This was definitely not how he'd expected today to go... "How do you know I'd be... okay, I'd probably be a lot safer than the ferret, but how do we know that I wouldn't make her miserable too?"
"You don't plan on passing her around to your pals, forbidding her from her books or a career, or practicing your dark spells on her when something annoys you. That makes you a substantial improvement," Daphne's voice suggested that she'd learned far more about the ferret at Hogwarts than she ever wanted, and she didn't like any of it. "You aren't bad looking, you bathe regularly, you have a brain even if you didn't use it as much as you could have at school, and you aren't a bad guy. At worst, you'd be polite and tolerate each other. At best... you seemed fond of smart girls in school, she's pretty, and she knows the traditions and such that you weren't taught. The two of you could work out quite well."
"I suppose that there isn't anybody at school that she'd rather marry?" Harry had a half smile, one that said that even he could see that if Astoria already had a sweetheart, Daphne might not be talking to him.
Daphne shook her head, "No. If you would... put a claim in, so to speak, there would ordinarily be a bit of a question of who had the stronger claim, but in this situation... a might have been marked Death Eater who was the son of a high ranking Death eater compared to Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, defeater of Voldemort... no question. You could get to know her a little, say that you are willing to let her finish Hogwarts, and... hopefully decide that you like each other enough to marry. If you had a sweetheart, you could probably marry Astoria for the Black family and someone else for the Potters."
"Two wives?" Harry blinked, thinking back to some of the things he'd heard in dorms and locker rooms. That was the sort of thing that many guys dreamed about... "If that's legal - and I'm not challenging your knowledge of wizarding tradition - why don't more wizards have two wives?"
"First, two wives means two sets of in-laws, it means you either have to have enough money and properties to keep them in separate houses or manage to convince them to get along, and there's been a bit of a wizard heavy slant the last few decades, there are... were more wizards than witches."
"Huh. Well, why don't I meet Astoria first. There should be a Hogsmeade weekend coming up soon, we could see if she's okay with this idea..." Harry offered.
"Potter, to avoid being married and essentially a glorified toy for Malfoy, Astoria would probably consider marrying one of the goblins that stands by the doors of Gringott's."
"Having known Hermione, Ginny Weasley, and Luna, I am firmly convinced that surprising a smart witch with something like plans for her marriage is a bad idea. Smart witches know lots of spells. I'd think anyone related to you would be quite willing to use those spells. I like being unhexed and attached to all my limbs," Harry gave a grin.
Daphne giggled. "I see your point. This Saturday, noon at the Three Broomsticks?"
"I'll be there," Harry agreed.
As Daphne apparated away, Harry reflected that this was certainly not how he'd expected his day to go. It looked like the Potter factor of strange things happening to him had kicked in again, though it looked to be an improvement over trolls in the loo, giant snakes, illegal entries into tournaments, or Snape.
end Greengrass.