It was the year after what ought to have been his seventh year at Hogwarts. Except Harry didn't attend Hogwarts for that year, and now an entire year later, in between the cusp of what should have been the end of his seventh year, and the next, he was stuck choosing between returning back to Hogwarts to complete his NEWTs, or becoming an auror, which he and Ron were both qualified to do because of their role fighting against Voldemort in the wizarding world war.
There was an angel on his shoulder that was Hermione Granger, trying to tell him and Ron what great benefits would come of graduating with a final year of education. And a demon on his shoulder that was himself, Ron and practically everyone else telling him why would he need to sit through a gruelling year of NEWTs when he could achieve his dreams one step sooner? And it wasn't like he didn't believe in himself, that he couldn't be a good auror after all the training he would begin once he'd left Hogwarts.
"I'm sorry Hermione. I've made my decision. I'm starting auror training with Ron next year, and that's final. We will work hard to protect the wizarding world from harm of all kinds in future decades though," he said, staring at his letter of acceptance of his spot in the auror program for a few more moments before sending it of. He reached into his mailbox and pulled out some more letters. He had moved into a flat near the outskirts of London in an area that had some witches and wizards living there undercover so he could travel to the ministry a little quicker each day. It was a small place he was renting and working in a coffee shop to pay money for. He hadn't wanted to tap into his inheritance so quickly.
Hermione was over at his place for tea. One of the last times they could see each other before she would return to Hogwarts for her seventh year in what was chronologically her eighth year, and him beginning his auror training.
"I suppose you're still able to protect the people and the loophole already existed in the law before you came. You didn't create it..." she said with a bit of a frown to her face as she pursed her lips.
"I don't think most people wouldn't mind, really. If I thought that they did I would sign up to redo my year at Hogwarts in a heartbeat," said Harry.
He looked through his letters and couldn't hide the look of surprise on his face upon opening an extraordinarily expensive emerald green one complete with a small box of cupcakes attached that appeared to...invite him to a ball held at the Malfoys.
"...as a fellow witch or wizard of halfblood status, we invite you to...that's the only information I can find about why I'm invited but I would've never thought that was the full reason...that doesn't make sense, why would they invite me...?" said Harry.
To his surprise Hermione only gave a sad, if not a little sorrowful sigh, "oh Harry. I knew it would happen eventually," she said.
"What would happen eventually?" asked Harry.
"We didn't tell you this so much whilst we were fighting Voldemort in our seven years because well...we had other things on our mind, and we didn't want to stress you out with anything more heavy. But the wizarding world is actually deeply rooted in purebloodism, halfbloodism and all of that. Every generation there's a bit of a marriage market where everyone tries to date and marry someone of equal blood status. It's all a bit indirect really - balls, masquerades, hunting parties, murder mysteries, tea parties. Nothing that really says 'I'm looking for a marriage partner', but most of it's to satisfy people's deep-seated need to meet someone of equal blood status of themselves and ensure their children have a similar level of magical powers to them. Everyone's involved in it. Even muggle-borns and halfbloods, a lot of dating they do would definitely involve asking about people's pasts and planning a future together. Just that the purebloods have more wealth to throw bigger events. It can last from several years to about a decade, and some consider it the second stage of a witch or wizard's life, after they graduate from Hogwarts. You've been invited to these series of events because to put it bluntly, the pureblood witches and wizards of your generation see your blood as something worthy to give a shot in all of this ... dating and courtship," said Hermione.
"Series of events? Purebloodism? Hermione? What did I fight this war for? Isn't the whole point of the war to prove that Voldemort was wrong, no one is more or less powerful than the other because of their parentage. We are all equals, and it is sick to think otherwise and torture or kill people because of it. It is just made up things by sick minded people. What do I have to do with a 'marriage market' like this?" Harry was both angry and confused.
"Yes, they wouldn't invite you to the introduction ball and not the others. I expect that's just the start of many events," said Hermione. Then, she took a deep breath and after a few moments where it seemed like she was gathering herself and preparing to deliver something very bad indeed, her eyes finally fluttered open and she said, "we faced a simpler version of the idea of purebloodism during the war. Voldemort, as you may have guessed, was a very extreme person, who twisted a lot of things to fit his narrative. He was also a plain murderer and a sadist at that, many of the actions he took proved this. He did find some aspects of purebloodism quite fascinating and was able to twist and manipulate that and the people attached to it to fit his agenda and get what he wanted out of them. But his version of purebloodism, and the things you would've thought about when you were dealing with him, are well, not what everyone would agree purebloodism is about. There are many pureblood families that have quite a different view to him. And some of that would still exist after."
"You're telling me I didn't really know what it was?" said Harry.
"He didn't really know what it was," said Hermione, "or he just twisted it so much to fit his own narrative that he was not practicing a truthful version of it. It's...just something witches and wizards do. I think a lot of purebloods hate it honestly, but it's just something everyone goes through if they've got some impressive magical lineage behind them, which considering your family history, you do. You come from the Potters, which have been a powerfully magical family for generations. I suspect that's why you've been invited. Only the halfbloods that are more connected to prominent or powerful pureblood families are, not all halfbloods would be asked to this..."
"What about you? Do they ask impressive muggle borns? How do you even know all of this?" said Harry.
"Unfortunately they are quite strict about that. I would never be asked. I...I used to dislike Lavender a lot you know, Gryffindor girl in our year-"
"I remember her," said Harry.
"But then we had a bit of a talk in sixth year, sort of...amended things between us, and she mentioned the pureblood marriage markets and things. It's honestly a rite of passage. You don't really know how marriages work, how witches and wizards choose their spouses until you go through all of these events, and in some ways, it's a bit of a magical world of it's own. A part of being in a magical society. I...you're a halfblood by blood Harry, and deeply connected to some powerful pureblood families. It's not crazy to think you won't be invited to these events or have to face it. I think perhaps in a way, it's always been your place in this world, and now is just the time it's all calling you. I think you should at least give it a go..." said Hermione.
"What if I don't want to? I'm perfectly fine dating Ginny anyway. They can't...force me right?" he said.
"No. There are no forced marriages," said Hermione, "you can walk away with Ginny if you want to. But most people find, when they truly mingle with a lot of people and exchange ideas on the...less extreme version of purebloodism, they feel a deeper connection with many more people than they first thought, and it's hard to turn the door closed on it. You...never know what you might find. It's just an open door Harry, there's no pressure or forced things. But the door's open..."
"You sound so chipper about all of this," said Harry, "aren't you the least bit upset about being excluded from it all? And what about Ron? There's a chance he got an invitation too, coming from a Weasley..."
"I've always known this would be the case, and I think to some extent...I shall never know all the marriage or courtship customs in your world as well as you do. And I could not have felt so close to Ron or...many of the others," Hermione shrugged, "if it works out between Ron and I, great. But if historically it's just too hard or there's all of these complications...I wouldn't hang onto a relationship I don't think it's right. Besides, are you implying I won't be attractive to a muggle my age?"
Harry gaped, "of course not. You'd be the most attractive Hermione. It's just..."
"Think I wouldn't want to date a muggle?" Hermione gave him a smile that Harry couldn't quite read, "I am closer to them blood-wise you know? I am closer to a muggle than a halfblood or a pureblood..."
"No. You're free to date who you want. I guess...I'm just surprised by it all. I thought I had done and seen, most of things-" said Harry.
"You haven't really known how witches and wizards date and Harry," reminded Hermione again.
"I guess I'm finding out," said Harry.
"Good luck. Have fun. I hope you truly find a good partner from all of this," said Hermione.
In a way, she was right. It was new and surprising to him, but it felt like it was something he had always belonged to, a social pact, a set of customs, and that now was simply the time it was calling him home...to see what this part of his life would give him.
He decided to accept the invitation.
"Did you get Harry Potter?" Mrs Greengrass stroked Daphne's hair as she brushed it. They were sitting in the glamorous dressing room of the Greengrass Manor and Daphne was having her hair brushed out by her mother for no reason other than the fact that she was a very pretty girl, they had a great deal of beautiful hair accessories, and this was the sort of thing they did in their days.
"Yes," she said.
Her mother placed the bejeweled wooden hairbrush down on the dresser, it had dark handsome cherry black wood, grey metal inlays and giant emeralds around it's base. The light of many jewels from the hair pieces glinted of the dresser's surface. All around them were the furniture and decor of status and wealth. She should be happy, she should be rejoicing at the state of her life right now, she should feel gleeful that everyone was probably jealous of her and wanted to be her, but-
"Did he seem like he understood in his reply?" she asked, her fingers gripping Daphne's hair a little at the back, as her eyes raked Daphne's. Light blue-grey like hers, but yet they shimmered with such a different emotion to the ones Daphne's were portraying right now.
Fingers of ice ran their way up Daphne's insides, she felt like a boulder had dropped into her stomach and splattered bits of bile all up her torso. She felt hot and cold at the same time, but mostly prickling cold and uncomfortable, her heart was racing and her skin prickled with uncomfortableness.
She swallowed. She had to stay strong. She had to play the game. She had to win the prize. Like she had always been born ready to do.
"N-not really, if I'm being honest..." she stuttered out, biting her lip. She was usually so cocky, so arrogant, so confident, but this was one of the moments where her blood seemed to turn to ice.
"Are you going to make him understand at the ball?" said her mother. Her fingernails were almost digging painfully into Daphne's scalp, her lips and eyes inches away from Daphne's face, the hot air of her breath pressured all over Daphne's ear. The ice cold intensity in her mother's blue-grey eyes reflected from the dresser mirror at Daphne.
"I shall have no choice but to..." said Daphne.
"Good, good..." said her mother, before getting up and turning away. Evidently bored of the affair of having a beautifying session with her daughter again. The many that pureblood families with girls did.
"Now, let's not sully ourselves talking about such unsavoury things in our spare time. I shall expect no need to lower ourselves discussing these affairs until there is good news to report on..." she said before sashaying away. Her mother was never fond of talking about these things directly and Daphne sensed this would be one of the last times she could have some mote of clear communication over it before she had to operate in secrecy all over again.
She was supposed to be happy. The ball was going to be one of the most beautiful and profound. Everyone was envious of those with an invitation to go. This was the divine life and it was hers, but yet...
Daphne put her head in her hands as she choked in a sob internally that was almost criminal to release. Her insides turning to ice, her heart thudding in vein, darkness seemingly clouding her vision. And when she had finally gathered herself and looked up again, the reflected image in the mirror betrayed no signs of a struggle. Daphne smiled and saw the same beautiful, confident, glamorous girl in the mirror that she had always been raised to be, all was well and everything would be alright, she told herself.
Anything, to keep the darkness at bay.
Author's Note: This has slightly different characterisations of the Slytherin characters than my other fic (Tom Riddle and the Dark World) that's been discontinued because that was a bit of an experimental story, but the characterisations here are still my headcanons of them.
This is an exploration into pureblood politics, Slytherins, and that side of the universe.
Please review if this story idea interests you and you want to read more. It would mean a lot to me to know there's interest in this story.
Hope y'all have a good day! :)