The October Revolts
Relegated to my Rambling and Dribbles for now...
Ok, this might be my darkest premise yet, but I think it has the potential to setup a truly great war of espionage, underground rebels and maybe an eventual over throw of the 'evil empire'.
Concept: (Story partially inspired by Patron, by Starfox5)
Voldemort won the Blood Purity War.
Grindelwald had made more inroads than thought during his reign of terror in the 1920 - 1945. Even though many fought against him, mostly because of his targeting of wizards in the later years of his 'Grand Vision', many supporters and believers of Wizarding superiority remained. This paved the way for Tom Riddle to slowly rise to power and lead the 'Grand Vision' in England.
Over the next forty-seven years, many of the Laws changed, subjugating those of 'Lesser Talent'. This mainly translated into 'those of low magical inheritance'. In Britain, some of the more severe laws have taken up. It has led to a caste-system, and simmering tension that is slowly slipping over into the muggle world as the latest generation in power seeks to fulfill the legacy that is the power of Magic over all.
While Minister Riddle and the Wizengamot plot for the eventual take over of the Muggle world, there is an underground resistance that wants to break the oligarchy now in power in Britain.
-oOo-
Some background:
In the caste-system, kept secret from all Muggleborn or Muggle raised until they attend Hogwarts, society is split into three main sections.
The ruling sect, or Princeps, are the Pureblood or Old Blood houses that have fifteen or more generations of magical blood in the male line and name or when both parents have five or more generations of magical parents. Many privilege's and laws benefit the Princeps.
The normal sect, or Civis, are those that have at least three generations of magical blood on the male line and name of a family. Most witches and wizards are of the civis. They live mostly normal lives, but have some restrictions and must be careful of Princeps and their power.
The working sect, or Mancipium, are the lowest of the low. They are the 'new' magicals. Those Houses that are bereft of any male heir with three or more generations of magicals, those born to Muggle parents, or those that do not know their heritage, fall into this class. Many are fill the ranks of the lowest workers, dead end jobs, or many times slaves.
Slaves: There are two types of slaves in magical Britain, and many other European countries. The first is an apprentice or indentured servant, the second is bonded slave.
Apprentices or indentured servants, sign a contract and work for a single person, family or company for the assigned number of years. There are laws that dictate how such slaves are to be treated, and on the whole it is not a bad life, except you give up your life for that time to the contracted party. In return, at the end of the contract, the person earns what was contracted for. This could be wealth, land, an adoption into a house to reach a higher status, a Mastery, etc...
Bonded slaves are not as lucky. In essence, bonded slaves are just that, they are bonded to their master and must do their masters will. Very few laws protect a bonded slave. They are often concubines, guards, laborers, soldiers or what ever is required.
For the Mancipium, the only way to be raised is to become an Apprentice or indentured servant for seven years. Many are tricked into be bonded slaves though.
-oOo-
Chapter 1
September 1, 1991
London, England
Harry felt apprehensive as he walked through the barrier between the normal world he knew, and the magical one he was entering. It had been a large shock just over three month ago when a middle-aged witch in green robes had appeared at the steps of the orphanage.
The tall woman had been austere, severe in her delivery of her letter to him and not at all pleasant. Professor Vector had not instilled a great confidence in him that he would like this change in his life. She had impressed a few things though. First, it was not a decision to go to a magical school or not. It was mandatory. His decision was what magical school. Yorkshire Academy in England, Scoil na Draíocht in Ireland, or Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, in Scotland?
Professor Vector was from Hogwarts, and said he would get a discount if he went there, given his heritage. It was the first time he had ever heard that anyone knew his parents. She had only said their names were James and Lily Potter, but wouldn't give him any details. It was more than he had before that day.
The second thing she impressed on him was that he should get to Gringotts Bank in Diagon Alley, London. She seemed to think it very important for him to be there on his eleventh birthday. Harry didn't understand why, but he promised to be there.
Third, and probably the most important, don't let anyone know he was a 'Muggle raised' until he had been to see the goblins. There had been a very strict feel to this, like it was the most important thing she could tell him. He didn't understand, but he heeded her words. After that, she informed Harry he had to send an application to any school he was going to look at and he would get an acceptance letter by July thirty-first. A school representative would be by to bring him to Diagon Alley for his school supplies in mid-August. If he didn't comply, he would be visited again just after his birthday.
Thus, on his eleventh birthday, Harry had done a double take. He thought finding out he was a wizard was a shock. The fact there were such creatures as goblins was a larger shock. He had looked at the sharp axes of the guards rather apprehensively.
Since that was after his birthday, he had asked how to get to Diagon Alley. She seemed reluctant to tell him, but he finally got the directions.
That had been three months ago. Three months that had led to the scrunching of his eyes as he plowed into the brick wall between Platforms nine and ten. Mrs. Turgeon had dropped him off at the station and he had managed to convince her to just leave him.
When the expected crash didn't come, he slowed and opened his eyes. What he saw was just as astounding as that first trip to Diagon Alley was.
There must have close to a thousand people on the large platform. Maybe more. It ran for hundred of yards. Parents, children, people in burgundy or dark blue robes and what must have been professors were all over the platform. "Brilliant," he said with a small smirk.
And it was brilliant.
Many were obviously magical, with shimmering clothes, or robes and cloaks that were reminiscent of medieval costumes. The more modern costumes looked more like Victorian times. Owls, cats and a few other animals were adding to the din. His own owl hooted at the ruckus. He looked around.
The whole place looked like it was still the height of the Victorian era. There was fancy wrought iron every where. The walls were made of a really nice marble. Fancy fireplaces, a few stalls and benches had him feeling like he just went back a hundred years.
There was the sound of a whooshing fire. Harry turned, a little scared, to see vivid green flames and then a man walked out. He was of average height and build with dark blonde hair and deep blue eyes.
Harry's eyes were as wide as saucers as, a moment later, a girl, about Harry's age, came out of the fire. Her father used his wand to get some ash off her as another smaller girl and then a woman of great beauty stepped out. The whole family had blond hair, some shade of blue eyes and looked rather regal in the way they ported themselves.
When the girl caught site of him staring, she gave him a cool stare a look like he was below her. Harry watched them for a moment until the woman turned her nose up to him and he looked away towards the crowd and the train, feeling as though he had just something indecent.
His mind was trying to comprehend what he had just seen. The goblins and Professor MgGonagall and Vector had not told him about anything like that. He had been reading anything he could find since he had gone to Diagon Alley, but that had mostly been about what the goblins thought important. He had actually not found anything on wizarding culture or history in the Florish and Blotts. There had been two other books stores, but he had been told only Flourish and Blotts would have his book list. He had been ushered by the men in red robes and other people to the shops he needed to go to.
Trying to stand tall, he looked back to the family as they walked by, the man not looking pleased. Harry felt the man's eyes looking him up and down. When the man's eyes saw his hand, they widened just a bit, and his features stiffened.
Harry knew the man had just seen the three rings on his hands. Rings the goblins had given him.
The one on his left hand, ring finger, was the ring of his House. Apparently the Potters were a House with a long history. That history was long enough to make him what the goblins had called a princep. That was the golden ring on his right middle finger. The goblins had told him the princeps were at the highest rank of society. But even being in the highest rank, there were still other distinctions. That was the silver ring on his right ring finger.
That silver ring put in as a secondary princep. He wasn't totally sure what that fully meant yet, but he had a feeling it was something good. The goblins said there were four ranks of Princeps: Gold, silver, bronze or no ring. Most were no rings.
When the man met his eyes again, he gave a deferential nod. Harry nodded back, unsure of the protocol. He noticed a bronze ring on the man's left hand middle finger. Harry was of higher rank. The girl, who had looked at him rather icily just a moment ago, looked more curious now. She had the same rings as her father. He didn't miss her eyes drifting to his rings then his eyes a few times. Even the mother's demeanor changed, giving him a semi-smile as she saw him looking at her elder daughter.
When they passed, Harry watched them for a moment before they blended into the crowd.
"Well, nothing for it," he said to himself, knowing he had to get to the train. Just as he was getting moving, a girl 'eeked' behind him. He turned to see a bushy hair girl pushing a trolley running through.
"Hey! Lookout!" Harry yelled at her. He moved quickly and she tried to stop, her feet skidding on the paving stone floor. He grabbed her trolley to finally stop her and she looked at him rather sheepishly.
"I'm so sorry. Professor Vector said to do that at a run. So I did. I didn't know anyone was behind it. We should move, I thought I saw someone else behind me," the girl said in rapid succession.
They had just moved when a red-headed girls came through. The girl came to a halt next to them. "That was wicked. Oh, hello. I thought I saw someone else go through the wall before me."
"Yes. Hermione Granger," the frizzy hair girl said.
"Morag McDougal," the redhead said in an Scotch brogue. They both shook hands.
"Harry Potter. Nice to meet you," he said, shaking both of theirs in turn. No parents had followed either girl, so Harry could only assume they were like him.
"You have any idea what we are doing?" Morag asked. Harry liked her Scotch brogue.
"Not the foggist," Harry replied.
"We are supposed to be on the train by elven and that is only twenty minutes away," Hermione instructed them. Looking up at a clock over the entrance she 'eeked' again. "Eighteen minutes."
Morag laughed. "Plenty of time. Are you both first years?"
"Yeah. Didn't even know I was a wizard until three months back," Harry said as they made their way towards the train.
Being without parents or guardians, it was apparent to anyone that had grown up in the Wizarding world that they were Muggleborn. The three didn't notice the looks. A woman in burgundy robes came up to them. "First years? Muggle?" she asked in a way that Harry didn't like.
"Ah, yes," he replied.
"Last car of the train. Hurry up," she ordered.
They nodded and started towards the back of the train. When they out of earshot, they shared a look and then took up an easy conversation.
"She was friendly. I didn't know I was a witch either. It was quite a shock for ma and da," Morag replied.
"My parents were rather relieved. I had been having some rather, uhm, spectacular bouts of accidental magic the last few years," Hermione said, sounding a little embarrassed.
Harry chuckled. "Like turning the hair of all your classmates bubblegum pink?" Harry enquired.
"You didn't!" Morag said with a huge smile.
"No, but I did make my aunt head blow up like a balloon on my eighth birthday," said Hermione.
They made it to the train and to headed towards the back. A few others were heading there too.
Harry caught sight of what looked like compartments in most cars as they talked. "That is awful," Morag said. She looked like she couldn't decide if that was funny or really was awful.
"Not really. Aunt Sylvia is a rather rude person and she was insulting my cat," Hermione said, looking at the large orange tabby in a carry bag. It looked to be sleeping. "Crookshanks followed me home shortly before then and we hadn't been able to get all the matted fur and dirt off him yet."
"Ma and da couldn't afford a pet for me. Hopefully next year. I love your cat and your owl."
"Thanks," Harry said as they made it to the last car. There were no parents around, just three people in leather robes, all dyed burgundy. Harry helped them get their luggage into the pile next to the door. They took Hedwig and Crookshanks with them. The last car did not have compartments. Instead it was split in two. At the front, a dozen seats on each side faced towards the front of the train. Each seat could easily fit two grown people, or three students their size. There was a wooden partition with a white glass pane and the Hogwarts seal etched into it separating the two sides.
A few older years were in the front of the car. Harry notices two girls had bronze braided necklaces with small crests on them. When he looked at a boy who wouldn't meet his eyes, he had a silver necklace. Harry thought it was a neat fashion and kind of wanted one. They reminded him of images of old celtic warriors.
"First years in the back," a girl with a badge on her Hogwarts robes called to them from the rear of the car.
"Come on. We can get a seat together," Morag told them.
On the other side of the petition, the seats faced the back of the train. There were only ten per side here. They sat, still excited and talking about other accidental magic. Morag and Harry were clutching their sides when Hermione told them about erasing the words in an entire stack of books when she hadn't wanted someone knowing she was reading. Hermione looked really upset until Harry said. "Can you imagine! You go to read Chicken Little, and the sky really has fallen and everything is white."
"That is not funny," Hermione said, before cracking a small smile.
While they talked, a dozen other first years had come into the compartment. Most looked a mixture of excited, scared and lost. A few were talking with each other, but were not laughing like them. Hedwig hooted indignantly at his feet when the whistle of the train blew. They were still laughing as they left the platform. They didn't notice three men in burgundy robes and two in the dark blue robes hop onto the back of the train.
A door slid closed between the front and back. Hermione smirked as Morag and Harry finally calmed down. "I wish I could have waved bye to da and ma," Morag said, watching the end of the platform and then the confusing track arrangement coming out of the busy station.
"That would have been nice," Hermione said a little sadly. "I've never been away from them for more than a long weekend."
"All attention up here," a woman in the dark-blue robes said.
They looked forward, many talking.
"Silence, please," she said. The woman was a little short with bright red hair, grey eyes and almond face. She had an air about her that she was used to command and having her her commands being followed. "Don't make me ask again," she said more severely. The car quieted and only the sound of the train on the tracks and the creek of the suspension of the wheels was heard for a moment.
"Thank you. I am Senior Inquisitioner Renee Umbridge. Welcome to the Wizarding world of Britain and the King's Islands. On our ride to Hogwarts the rules and regulations put on those of Muggle heritage shall be gone over and you will be registered," the woman said.
"What is going on?" a larger boy asked from the other side of the train. "My mum said..."
"Your mum is not here and won't worry about you anymore," Sr. Inquisitor Umbridge said in a harsh voice.
"What do you mean? I was told we can send them letters," Hermione said from next to him.
"It is illegal to contact anyone outside of the wizarding world unless you are a princep, which none of you are. Now, just settle down and we will go over the rules and regulations," the woman said.
Many worried faces looked towards the front. "But mum bought me an owl so that I could write them," the same larger boy said.
"All pets will be confiscated and given back to you in a month if you show good behaviour. If you use them to contact anyone outside the wizarding world, you will be punished. Now, Junior Inquisitor Doverclove is going to pass out your registration forms and your regulations book. You are to keep the books, the registration papers we will give you and your magical status papers on you. Once that is done, you will all be fitted with your torcs," the woman said in a cool tone.
Morag moved close to his back while Hermione slid next to him. "What do you mean our registration papers and torcs?" Harry asked.
The woman sighed. "I am getting impatient with so many interruptions. The next one of you mudbloods to talk out of turn shall learn not to. It is better you learn your place in our society now."
Harry had a chill pass through him. Hermione backed further into him as the woman pulled out a wand and walked up the aisle. "I will have this understood now. The fifteen of you in this car have been given the honour of going to the most elite school under the British Empire. Most of you Muggle bloods go to Yorkshire, where the methods of education are not as kind. You have all shown to either have a high magical affinity or were divined to have a talent that should be nourished and passed onto future generations that will earn their place as normal citizens some day."
They were all quiet. A girl in the next seat over sounded like she was sniffling.
"Understand this. You are all Muggleborn. Your dirty blood needs to be cleansed and that can only be done by servitude to our Minister, the honorable Lord Tom Riddle. After three generations of servitude, your blood will have been cleaned enough for you be accepted as a civis. Do not speak while I speak! Crucio!" the woman snapped at two boys who were whispering.
One of them started to give a scream as though he was being ripped apart. It was high pitched, blood curdling and cut through them all. Hermione screamed and Morag grabbed his arm. Hermione jumped and he shot up, unsure what he was going to do, but he wasn't going to let his two friends be hurt. He took his wand to his hand, not sure what to do. The boy screamed for only a few seconds, but it left a car full of crying and terrified eleven year olds.
His hand shook as Senior Inquisitor Umbridge turned. Her eyes found him and when she saw his wand an evil smile came to her face. "Oh, I do so love breaking the brave ones," she said, casually raising her wand. "Do I make a real example of you or will you sit back down and only get a normal punishment?"
Harry took in a deep breath and raised his wand. "I won't let you hurt anyone else," he said.
She laughed until he noticed her eyes went to his hands. The laugh fell. "Where did you get those rings?"
"The goblins gave them too me," Harry told her.
Her eyes narrowed. "Do not lie to me boy. It is death to impersonate anyone above your station."
Harry gulped. "I went to Gringotts on my eleventh birthday. The goblins gave me my House ring, another saying I am a previs and the last that I am a second class," he told her, holding up his hands.
She took in a deep breath. Her jaw worked in her closed mouth for a second. "What House?"
"House Potter. I am Harry Potter," he told her.
She didn't seem to recognize it, but after looking at his rings for a moment, she lowered her wand and then nodded. "Excuse me, previs Potter. I would like to give you my appologies on behalf of the Inquisitors for having to have you see this. Rowle, show him to the front carriages," the woman said. He looked down at the terrified faces of Hermione and Morag.
"What of my friends?" He wanted to save the all but knew he wouldn't stand a chance.
Her mouth twerked. "Your friends?"
Harry knew he had just met them, but if he could save them, what other choice did he have? "My friends, Hermione Granger and Morag MacDougal," he said, indicating the girls on the bench.
"You are Muggle-raised?" she questioned him.
"Uhm, yeah," he replied.
Her nostrils flared. "These girls you indicated are mancipium. They are lower than low, princep. I will see you get the proper training once we get to Hogwarts, but you can only claim them. Princeps are not 'friends' of such mudbloods," she said as though teaching a rather petulant child.
"I claim them my friends," he said desperately, not understanding any of this.
She seemed to be holding her temper. "Coverclove, get the listing. If House Potter has any torcs, he may claim them, otherwise you will be escorted to the front of the train and properly educated later, Princep Potter."
Harry swallowed as the other dark-blue robes woman moved to an office behind the front seats. A moment later she came out with a large book. Doverclove was paging through it. After a moment she ran her hand down the page. "Senior Inquisitor Umbridge, House Potter has three inactive torcs right now."
"Do you have them on you?" Umbridge said towards him.
He didn't even know what they were talking about so he shook his head.
The woman let out an angry huff. "They will have to wear unbound torcs for now. Do you claim them as is your right as a previs?"
They both were still terrified. All of them around them were, he just didn't know how to help them. "Yes," Harry said a little uncertaintly.
The woman's mouth twitched. "Doverclove, take them into the office. Register them and then have Previs Potter fill out the paperwork and they can go join the other previses."
"Move," Doverfield snapped at them.
Harry helped a crying Hermione up and then a wide-eyed Morag. They walked up to the office. The door was slammed shut behind them. Doverclove sat behind the desk.
"What is going on?" Hermione asked.
"Be quiet. Until you are claimed by Previs Potter, it is not your place to speak," the woman snapped.
Hermione snapped her mouth shut and moved to take Morag's hand. "It will be alright," Harry told them.
Doverclove took out two of the bronze necklaces he had seen earlier. They were a braided wire design that was open in a wide U. She took down the number on the end cap and wrote them on a form. "Fill this out. You, come here," she said to the still crying Hermione.
Hermione edged forward. "Now, girl!"
Hermione jumped. "You're scaring her," Harry barked back.
The woman glared at him for a moment before lowering her head a little. "My apologize, previs. Over here," she commanded in a less harsh tone.
Hermione moved forward slowly. Harry didn't move. He was worried as well. "I need your left arm. Take off your shirt."
Hermione looked panics. "Why?"
The woman closed her eyes for a second. "Either take off your shirt or I will remove the sleeve. It is your choice."
Harry looked away when Hermione went to comply. There was a white light and he turned to see her in a what looked like a sports bra and frozen. The woman looked at the form and then she swiped the wand over Hermione's right arm. Just above her wrist a series of eight numbers bubbles up into her skin. They were silver. She then swiped her wand again and a silver and green celtic knot about two inches wide and almost the length of her forearm appeared.
Morag screamed and tried to get to Hermione, whose eyes looked absolutely terrified and pained. The witch shot another white jet of light at Morag, who fell to the floor. "I said don't hurt them," Harry screamed and dove for the girls. He saw the white light.
When he woke, Morag and Hermione were clutching thier lef tarms and had tears coming down her face. "My apologize for stunning you, princep Potter, but this is the law. If you would complete those forms then you can take your property."
He didn't think they could look any more scared. "My property?"
"You have claimed them. The Potter torcs are bonded torcs. If you don't wish to take them, I can change their registration and have one of the Aurors escort you to one of the front compartments," she said as though this was business transaction.
"What? No. But I can't own them," he told her.
"Either you fill out those forms and write to Gringotts to get two of your torcs delivered to Hogwarts, or they will have their registration changed back to bronze and join the others," Junior Inquisitor Doverclover told him. "Normally this is done in July after their second year, but being a second level previs, you have the right to claim them."
He felt so turned around at what was going on. By the looks on Hermione's and Morag's face, he knew he didn't have a choice. He filled out the papers and then was forced to put the bronze necklaces, that he now understood were called torcs, on their necks. They both were scared. Harry hated it, but what choice did he have? None of them understood what was going on.
"Now that previs Potter has put them on, you are allowed to adjust the torcs. You may take them off when you sleep, but they are to be worn at all other times. Previs Potter, here are their papers and regulation books. I would recommend you read them and establish any other rules you need. Your mancipiums will be required to attend etiquitte classes with the others. You will get a schedule tomorrow with your class schedules. Please ask one of the Aurors to take you to the front cars. I have more paperwork to make this official," she clearly dismissed them.
When they walked out of the office, Sr. Inquisitor Umbridge was doing the same to the other children in the car. Some were crying. One was asking for his dad. Another was rocking in the seat. The man's eyes looked kind. "Previs Potter, I am Auror Shacklebolt. Let me take you to the front cars," he offered in a deep voice. Morag moved in and took his hand while she clutched one of Hermione's.
"Uhm, sure," he said. The Auror made sure they collected Hedwig and Crookshanks before he led them up the train.
Passing into the front car, Harry noticed the dozen or so in the car were all a year or two older than them. They didn't meet their eyes. Tears were still coming out of Morag's and Hermione's eyes as they moved through the train. The next car up was filled with happier people. They saw kids from their age to later teens. Many were talking, or laughing or just oblivious to the the four of them. They passed through ten cars. There were hundreds of kids. The next car was similar to the one they had been in. Two dozen or so upper years were there, all with silver badges on their cloaks. The front of the car had six older students sitting at tables. They had gold badges.
In the next train car, it had a distinctly upper class feel. It was lavishly decorated in dark woods, silks and golden gas lamps. They passed three compartments until they found an empty one. "I would recommend you stay in here and read those books. Keep as low a profile you can for now," the Auror warned them.
Harry nodded.
He made sure the door was closed before the Auror walked away. "What just happened?" Morag said, tears still running down as she pushed her sleeve up. Her still looked a little red around the number and the part of the celtic knot she exposed.
"Oh, my god. It's like the holocaust victims I read about," Hermione said. She was sniffing as she looked at her arm. "Professer McGonagall didn't tell us of this. Harry, what did they do to us?"
He just looked at them. "I... I don't know."
Hermione started to cry again as she scratched at the numbers. "It won't come off."
He grabbed her wrist when she stated to look like she was going to draw blood. "Hermione stop. I don't know what is going on. Morag, are you alright?"
She was just looking at her arm. "0. 0. 7. 9. 6. 1. 4. 8. Why did they put that on me?"
"I don't know. Hermione, stop," he cried out, grabbing her other hand.
She looked at him like the worst thing ever just happened.
They were still all panicking when a knock came at the door. They all looked to see an older blonde girl outside. She stood there as though waiting to be let in. Harry was so over loaded he only managed to say, "Come in."
Not looking impressed, she opened the door. "Good morning. Junior Inquisitor Doverclover sent me a message that you might need some assistance?"
"I want my ma," Morag said, starting to cry as she clutched her left arm.
The girl pursed her lips. After a moment, she asked, "Are you a previs?"
"Previs Potter," Harry said, showing the hand with his House and previs ring.
She waited a moment as though expecting something else before saying, "I am Princep Cordelia Ross. Are you from the Colonies?"
"The what?" Hermione asked. "There aren't any colonies anymore."
"You know you are not to speak unless given permission," the girl said a little harshly to Hermione.
"They can talk," Harry said back a little angrily, getting annoyed at how they had all been treated so far.
The girl bobbed her head. "My apologies, previs Potter. It is not common for bonded mancipiums to get that type of priveledge when two princeps are talking."
He made an aggravated sound. "I don't care! My two friends were just assualted, branded with what ever this is and we just watched someone else cast a spell and the screams the boy made," Harry yelled at her.
She took a step back. Analyzing the situation again, she took a minute to respond. "You have no idea what a princep is and the duties and priveledges we have been given, do you?"
"Not a clue. Now, how do we remove this from Hermione and Morag?" he asked.
"I really want my ma," Morag whined.
The girl, Cordelia, pursed her lips. "May I come in and close the door?"
"Yes," Harry replied. Hermione was trying to scratch her arm again and he had to stop her.
She stepped fully in and shut the door. With a heavy sigh, Cordelia stepped over to the them. "Here. I have heard it burns and itches for a week or so after they register you," she said, sounding a little nicer now the door was closed. She took out a long, light coloured wand and swished it up Hermione's arm. Hermione let out a sigh of releif, and then put her head in her hands and started to sob.
Cordelia moved to Morag and did the same. "I am sorry you have to be marked this way. My auntie says its barbaric. I didn't believe her until I saw the registration last year."
"What happened. Why were they marked? What does it mean when I claimed them?" Harry asked desperately.
Cordelia sighed again. "You probably saved them a horrific life. You are Muggleraised that found out you have princep blood?"
"I don't know. Professor Vector told me to got to Gringotts and ask them about my parents. They gave me these rings and said I am secondary princep. I have no idea what is going on," he told her, feeling close to panic himself.
Cordelia looked at him then the door. Getting up, she closed the shade. "Princep Potter, please declare you need a private space."
He was so confused. "A what? Why?"
"Please just declare you need a private place."
"Uhm, I need a private place." Nothing happened.
Cordelia sighed. "Repeat after me. I, Princep Potter, secondary princep of the Empire, require privacy until I declare otherwise or an hour is up. Which ever is first."
Harry did and they all felt the magic and he thought he saw a bubble expand from his silver secondary ring. Cordelia took out her wand and twirled it then did some complicated pattern while muttering. "There, we can talk freely now. I am Cordelia Ross, an omega princep. My great aunt is Professor McGonagall. If you ever need help, go to her or Professor Vector. We can talk freely while your protection is up."
"I don't understand," Harry said.
She gave him a very severe look. "Princep Potter, you are very lucky to have had the chance to claim your rights. If you had been registered as a mancipium, you have lost your rights. I must impress though, you can never tell anyone else that Professor Vector gave you that advice. Never," Cordelia said.
"Why?" Hermione asked, starting to get her tears under control.
The girl looked to Hermione. "You and the girl are now slaves. Not all mancipium are that way, but most are forced to become so. I am truly sorry for your fate, but there is nothing to do for it now. As long as Princep Potter is alive, he is your princep. It would be best for you to learn your place and proper etiquette when not in private or among those that you really trust. Other princeps could demand punishment for you or a tribute from your prince if you offend them. That can not happen at Hogwarts, but can once we are off the train or not on Hogwarts grounds."
"I am not a slave," Hermione said a little fiercely. It had a rather fearsome effect with the her tear streaked cheeks and determined attitude. "And my name is Hermione Granger, not you."
Cordelia shook her head. "Ms. Potter, you have been claimed by princep Potter. You and your friend are not recognized as Potters."
"I am Morag McDougal," the red head said, looking up.
Cordelia looked at the girls with a sad expression. "You were Morag McDougal. You and Hermione are now Potters. Learn to deal with it. When you get older, that may change, but there is nothing that can be done right now." Harry felt like there was a different meaning to her words. "Princep Potter, I don't have alot of time, but there are some things you need to know."
"Like what?"
"That ring, the secondary you have gives you immense status and power in our world. When the empire was founded, fifty-six families were granted those rings. I knew eight of them were 'disbanded', but no one knows their names. It happened about thirty years back, then three 'disbanded' Princep Houses were part of the October rebellion in nineteen-eighty-one. I still don't know what houses, but I am sure House Potter was one of them now. I don't know if you will be in any danger or not. You won't be the first princep that was hidden until required to go to school. Some families do that to prevent their children being used, though Minister Riddle rarely punishes any Princep," Cordelia told them.
"Hogwarts: A history and The Principles of the Magical World didn't say any of this," Hermione said.
"You are a Muggleborn. It is illegal for anyone from the Magical world to tell any Muggleborn any of this before you come. From what my Aunt Minerva says, your parents are visited by Obliviators within a few days of you leaving. I'm sorry to tell you, but they will not know they have a daughter for much longer, if they haven't been visited already," Cordelia told them.
Hermione looked ready to break down again. Morag moved closer to Hermione. "My ma? My da? What about Regie and Shealynne?"
Cordelia gave her a sad look. "If none of them possess magic, you will never see them again. I'm sorry."
Morag lookd heartbroken. Harry moved onto the seat and Morag buried her head into his shoulder. Hermione just sat there, looking stunned.
"Back to where I was going. You are a secondary princep, just one tier down from the primaries. All the primaries make up the Wizengamot. There are twenty-eight houses. Right now, there are forty-eight secondary houses, forty-nine with you. There are thirty-seven tirtiary. They will have bronze rings. I am one of the sixty-three Houses that are an Omega Princep," she said.
"What do all the different levels mean," Hermione questioned.
"The Primaries are those that supported Minister Riddle in forming the British Empire. Aunt Minerva said it was a coop in nineteen-fifty-eight, but you will get into trouble for ever mentioning something like that. Minister Riddle and the Primaries look on themselves as liberators, and many see them that way. Some day they say we will rule over the Muggles again, but its been almost fourty years and nothing," Cordelia replied.
"The secondaries are those of old blood. I would guess your blood would be atleast a thousand years old. Old blood and pure blood is very important to Minister Riddle and many others. Those of the tiertiary houses are raised up from the Omegas. They have done services that have helped the Empire and have earned a higher priveledge. You must be careful though. As a secondary, you can do almost anything within the law you want, and with a small bride, just about anything else. The Primaries have almost the same power at Minister Riddle. They can do anything, except to those of Secondary houses. Minister Riddle does not like fights between any of the Princep houses. He comes down rather harshly when that happens. It is not that way for the civis. They are looked at like second class citizens compared to us."
"What are the omega princeps? Why are there omega princeps if you are not old or pure blood?" Hermione enquired.
"You are bright, aren't you. Learn to harvest that to help your princep. Mancipium that can learn to work in the backgrounds and support their princeps are highly valued, and can often earn a civis rank for their children. Many of those that go to Hogwarts see their children freed like that. Be thankful you are not at Yorkshire. Many of those will never earn a civis rank until four generations have served the Minister," Cordelia told them.
Harry felt a shiver run through Morag.
"I still don't understand about the omegas, civis and the mancipium. Why are we mancipium?"
Cordelia looked at her watch. We only about thrity minutes left. Listen and let me finish. The omega princeps are or were purebloods at the time of the revolution that saved us," she told him. "We were not houses with old lineages, most having five or six generations of magic. We didn't have Wizengamot seats or other power. But, like I said, Minister Riddle and his sacred-twenty eight value magical blood. The civis are those that had atleast two generations of magical blood when they saved us. There are thousands of civis Houses. They have been promised they can apply for princep status once they have six generations of magic. Aunt Minerva doesn't beleive that will happen, but for most that is still a few generations away."
"Last is the mancipium, those with less than two generations of magic. Most are Muggleborn, those born to two non-magical parents or squibs."
"What is a squib?" Hermione asked.
Cordelia looked at her annoyed. "Those that have magical parents but were born without it. They are raised in our world and if they sire magical children, then the children are regarded as mancipium. Magic rejected the squib and they have to pay their service to be considered a normal magical again."
"This is horrid," Hermione said, her hands covering her mouth.
Morag sniffed into Harry's shoulder. "So we are just slaves?"
"In a way. Your princep can order you to do just about anything, except kill another magical or force you to give yourselves to anyone one else except the princep. He can approve you marry someone else, but until then, you are his."
Hermione looked scared again. "I'm only eleven," she said.
Harry didn't even understand what they were talking about. Morag sniffed. "What do you mean?"
Cordelia sighed. "You are all still too young to worry about it yet. You will learn over the next few years."
Hermione had tears coming down her cheeks again.
"I'm sorry to be so harsh, but all three of you need to understand how to survive. Princep Potter, you are considered a very important person and a ruler of our world. You have to act that way. You are not to give anything to a lower House unless they earn it or you are seeking something from them. The civis are to be respected and treated well. They are the tradesmen and workers. Many serve as Aurors or Inquisitors. Without the civis, our world doesn't prosper. That being said, they are to be regarded as lower houses. Princeps do not make friendships with the civis. We are their employers or Lords and Ladies. That is all. Behind closed doors, you can do as you wish, but you will be admonished if you are seen being too friendly with them," she instructed.
Harry scrunched his brow. He didn't like that. Why should he be above anyone and and why did he know own these two girls? "I don't want to be a princep if that is the way it is."
"You have no choice and you do want to be a princep. If you were not, you would be in the same situation as Hermione and Morag. Most males are conscripted into the Aurors as shock troops when fights break out. It is not a life you want. Going to Hogwarts, you would have been groomed to be more useful. Maybe an apprentice to a tradesman, forever in servitude to your civis, or if you were very lucky, you would have been taken by a princep to be trained as a low level administrator. Hermione and Morag would have been trained to do a job, and then used to bear children. All the witches accepted to Hogwarts have some type of skill or power that Minister Riddle has deemed important. I am sure the intelligence of Hermione would have caught thier eye. She or her children would make great research assistants."
"I am not a slave and my children will not be one either," Hermione said.
Harry blinked. Children?! He was still a child.
"You have no choice. If you upset a princep enough, one of the sacred-twenty-eight can have you killed and just reimburse Princep Potter," Cordelia said a little harshly. Her face said she did not agree with what she said.
Hermione gave a small squeek. "Tomorrow, you should all seek out Professor McGonagall or Professor Vector to get started on your lessons immediately. We get our schedules and a tour tomorrow. They will not have the first classes until Tuesday."
She looked at her watch again. "I know it hasn't been an hour, but I should get back. I need to keep an eye on my sister and my other friends will be worried. One does not ignore a summons from a Senior Inquisitor."
"Cordelia?" Hermione asked.
"It is Princep Ross, Ms. Granger. You would do well to only ever call me by that name. Princep Potter can take that liberty as he is of higher rank. Understand?" Cordelia demanded.
Hermione didn't look pleased, but nodded. "Princep Ross?"
"Yes, Ms. Granger?"
"Will we really never see our parents again?"
Cordelia gave a sad smile. "You will not. From this time forward, you will live where ever Princep Potter lives, unless he gives you leave. And even then, you are to only stay in the Wizarding world until you can get a permit. Muggle world permits are not given out until you graduate, and they will only give them to Princep Potter, and you can use them. Now, I suggest you spend the next few hours reading your regulation books. If you do wander, I would only recommend you trying to talk to Princeps Neville Longbottom, Susan Bones or Hannah Abbot. They are all first years of secondary Houses that my Aunt associates with outside of school."
Harry nodded. Hermione had one more question. "Princep Ross, why do you keep referring to your aunt and not your parents?"
The girl had an icy look. "My parents were part of the October Rising. No one that participated in that revolt lived to tell what really happened in the Ministry that night."
"Oh, I'm so sorry," Hermione said.
Cordelia just nodded. "Please do not ask again or let anyone know."
When the door closed behind her, Morag asked, "Harry, did you mean to make us slaves?"
He shook his head vehemently. "Never. I still don't understand all this."
Hermione looked at the number on her wrist. "God. It's like the Nazis won."
Harry had a chill go through him. They had all learned some about World War II and what had happened to the Jews. Harry hadn't made that connection yet, only knowing it had happened and not really gone into much of the history yet. That was supposed to be a unit in primary this year. "I promise to protect you two and you never have to keep anything back when it is just us. You are not slaves or mancipium or what ever Cordelia was saying."
Hermione frowned, a few tears falling down her cheeks. "We should call her Princep Ross. I don't think she was joking when she said we could be punished. You saw whatever Senior Inquisitor Umbridge did to that boy."
A shutter ran through all three of them.
"I thought is was so cool when I got my wand," Morag said. "I wish I never found out I was a witch."
Harry had to agree. Hermione nodded, then took the book and opened it. She wiped the rears off her cheeks as she started to read. It was an action she had to repeat many times as she worked through the regulations book.
-o-
They had been left alone the rest of the ride. She let Crookshanks out of her cloth carry case and he curled up on the bench next to her, purring for a long time. The only distraction came about one when a trolley maid knocked on the door. She had a cart laden with succulent smelling meals and delectible looking sweets. It as definerly of a high quality. Harry had insisted that they eat something. Hermione waived him off as she read. The regulation book was horrid.
In essence, Morag and her were now third-class citizens. They were required to do as thier bonded master ordered. There were a few things Harry could not force them into, like killing another princep. It didn't miss her notice that there was no limit like that for civis and other mancipium. He couldn't force them to enter a life-threatening situation. He couldn't force them to do anything with another they didn't want to, which in included 'procreation'. Hermione's mother had had a discussion with her before leaving and she knew there was other things that could happen besides procreation. Harry did have the right to procreation with any bound mancipium he had. If he claimed any child they made, the child would be elevated into the princeps House. It was about the only way for her children and her grandchildren not to be slaves.
On the otherside, being a bound mancipium allowed them to go pretty much anywhere Harry went. If they were in public, there was a long list of do's and don'ts. Like Morag and her were not to speak up unless spoken too or given permission by their princep. Even then, their words would reflect on Harry, so they had to be careful what they said. A meals, a bond mancipium was to make sure their princep was eating first, only then could they serve themselves. If princeps of higher ranking sat at the table, then Morag and her could only sit at the same table with their permission. Otherwise, they were to 'wait' on their princep from a respectable distance.
The more she read, the more she felt like she had just been made a slave.
Her privileges were linked to Harry's rank. With Harry being a secondary, she was to be treated more like a civis than a slave by those of a lower rank. Harry had the right to seek recourse if Morag or here were insulted or assaulted. It didn't matter if it was any rank of princep. Though, thinking on Cordelia's warning, she doubted a primary princep would even pay attention to Harry's complaints.
There were so much.
It was wall after four when she finally closed the book.
Morag had her head on Harry's lap. The boy looked nervous, but put a finger to his mouth. "She cried herself to sleep," he told her in a whisper.
Hermione nodded. "Princep Ross is right."
"About what?"
She sighed, feeling just spent at the moment. "You are lucky you were able to claim your status. If you had been registered, all your rights would have been forfeit." She knew she was speaking in a rather hauty tone, but she was still trying to wrap her head around it all.
"Can I release you," Harry asked.
She felt a little relieved he felt that way. "I wouldn't. Morag and I gain alot being a bound mancipium to you."
"What does that mean? A bound mancipium."
"We are considered your consorts," she told him. "Essencially bound to do almost everything you tell us. If we don't we can be punished. If we keep refusing, the torcs will punish us. You should get the torcs from your family as soon as possible. There may be other enchantments and rules that allow us more freedom," she told him.
"Or they may restrict you more?"
After a moment, she nodded. He looked as scared as them. "When we get to Hogwarts, you should act the way Princep Ross told you. Until we can figure out how to get our of this. We should wake Morag soon. I should go over the ways we are to act."
Harry frowned. "Are they really going to go after your parents?"
She sighed, trying to keep herself together. The three of them needed each other at the moment and her breaking down right now would not help them. "According to this book, we are to be totally cut off from the Muggle world until we graduate. Going to Hogwarts is the best way to get a Muggle pass once we graduate." She fought to keep her tears down. "Harry, they are going to erase all knowledge of us from our parents and relatives. It will be like we never existed. When not in school, we are to go with you."
Harry frowned. "Hermione, I live in an orphanage. I get the feeling I won't be able to go back there either."
She took in a deep breath. What was going to happen to them?
Harry held out an arm and she moved to his side. It had only been a few hours that they had known each other, but the realization that Harry and Morag may be the only comfort, and possibly family, for now on was too much. She did start to cry again. "I won't let them hurt you two," Harry told her.
But the time the train stopped, Morag and her had gotten their tears under control. They had dressed and she had put Crookshanks back in her carry bag. For the last hour or so, Hermione had tryed to coach the Morag into acting less outgoing. It didn't seem to be in any of their natures not to talk out. The boy screaming earlier and Princep Ross' warning was still scaring them, though. They waited until it seemed all the other people in the car had left.
When they got out, an Auror and an Inquisitor were waiting outside the door. The Auror was a medium height woman with pleated blond hair and dark blue eyes. The Inquisitor was a man with short black hair, a mustaches and dark eyes. His face looked a little long and serious while the Aurors was just blank. It was the Inquisitor that spoke. Hermione was starting to understand that Aurors may be llke police while the Inquisitors were above them. Maybe like a detective? "Good evening, princep. I would ask your mancipiums to get your trunks. We do not keep porters on the train."
Hermione was about to say something when Harry stepped before them. "Uhm, our trunks were taken earlier, when we were shown to the back car."
The Auror shifted, as though uncomfortable, while the Inquisitor nodded. "Ah, you must be Princep Potter. I do apologize for the inconvenience. We had not been informed a Muggle-raised Princep would be here this year. I will see the house elves bring your items to your rooms."
Harry nodded.
"First years! Anymore first years?" a voice called out.
The Inquisitor nodded his head towards the calling voice. "You should get to the boats. It is a rather splendid view the first time."
Morag took her hand and they followed Harry. "You should walk next to me," Harry told them as they made their way towards the back of the platform, weaving through many students until they joined a crowd of a few dozen, maybe a hundred others their age. The dozen or so that had been left behind when they left the carriage were all cowering together. Senior Inquisitor Umbridge was looking over them.
Hermione moved closer to Harry to see the looks on their faces. She was unsure what they had gone through, but it didn't look like they enjoyed it. Most were holding thier left arm, some where scratching at it.
"Is everyone here?" a man in red robes with golden designs on them asked. Hermione didn't know how the man would know until she saw Senior Inquistor Umbridge nod. "I am Professor Oakby. I would ask you all to be careful and take your time climbing into the boats. Once everyone is settled, we will start our journey."
Harry took her hand as they moved down the steps and into boats. Harry made sure they were seated before joining them. A slightly pudgy boy with blonde hair and blue eyes sat with them.
Harry put his hand out. "Harry Potter."
The boy looked at his hands first before bowing his head. "Princep Neville Longbottom. Princep Ross said I should sit with you." After a moment, Neville shook Harry's hand.
"She told us the same," Hermione said as the boats started. "Hermione Grange... I mean Potter."
Morag lowered her head. "Morag McDougal," she said obstinately.
Neville raised an eyebrow at them. That was when Hermione's face scrunched up. She was still a Granger. She hoped they did not just cross a line.
Neville looked around. The boats were seperated enough that a whisper would not carry. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Hermione Potter and Ms. Morag..." Neville hesitated, casting a glance to Harry before saying, "... Potter. The Longbottoms do not treat mancipiums like others, but I would caution speaking out of turn."
Hermione's face went a little red now. Anger was better than crying. Morag slumped her shoulders. Harry put a hand on her shoulder. "It will be alright."
The redhead just nodded.
Hermione was about to say something else when people around them gasped or started to talk excitedly. She looked forward and even through her anger and fear, she found her breath catching.
On a high cliff, a huge castle dominated the skyline. Hundreds of windows were full of lights. Torches shown the base and the moon rising behind it illuminated the rest. Her eyes searched the numerous parapets, crenelated walls, wrought-iron crested roofs and he shear massiveness of the structure.
"Wicked," Harry muttered behind them.
"Gran and mum took me here last year for a Governors meeting. I like this view better," Neville commented.
"It is rather beautiful," Morag said.
Hermione pursed her lips. She had a feeling this should be very beautiful, but the itch that was starting to come back to her marked on her arm reminded her they were in a place that was going to be a nightmare. She forced the thoughts down they would not see their parents again.
They crossed the lake to docks outside a large boat house. Harry got out first and offered a hand to Morag. When she moved to the side, almost falling at the boat rocked, Neville grabbed her arm, steadying her. "Don't fall in."
"Thank you," she said. A boy with blonde hair gave them a nasty look as he walked by, two larger boys following him. Neville nodded to the boy. Harry seemed to catch Neville's motion and did the same. The boy rose an eyebrow, the snear dropping to a curious face. She noticed his eyes look for Harry's rings. Hermione notices the boy wearing a gold band on his right ring finger. He was a Primary Princep. The two larger boys with hiim had gold rings as well. She took Morag's hand, trying to convey to her that they needed to be very cautious.
After the groups passed, with two more people with gold rank rings, they took up behind them. "That is Draco Malfoy and the other Primaries starting this year. Mum told me to be careful of them."
"Thanks. I have no clue what I am doing," Harry told him.
"Cordelia let me know. Stick close to me and those two girls over there," Neville told him, nodding towards a redhead and a blonde that was walking up the stairs to the castle. They were a few stairs ahead of them. "The redhead is Princep Susan Bones, and the other is Princep Hannah Abbot. Be careful around the other Princeps."
Hermione looked to the blond boy with them. "Should we be careful of you?"
"Definitely, but I can promise we mean you no harm," Neville told her. "When we get inside, stay close to your princep. You are claimed and are given special privileges to stay with him. At dinner, there will be a special place for you to sit. You will not be able to sit with Harry though."
She nodded.
In the entry hall, Professor Oakley stopped them. "As we enter the hall, there will be two archways to your right. You are to walk through them. The white stripes on your robes will change to your house colours and you go sit at your tables as fast as possible. Princeps, you shall sit at the central table once you are sorted."
They were all quiet as they were led into the hall. It was a huge place. Five tables went the length of the hall. Each one already had a hundred students or more at them. The ceiling overhead looked like the night sky. Stars could be seen outside the glow of the half moon.
She looked at that for a moment before turning her attention to the left. There was a double stone arch with an old hat in a glass display between them. It's brim was moving and looked to be muttering... could a hat mutter?"
Students passed through the arches and within seconds the trim on their robes and tie would change colour. "The house you are sorted into will dictate what tract you are to follow, mum told me," Neville whispered to them. They were near the back of the line, so it was going to be minutes before they got there.
"I know what Hogwarts: A History said, but what does it mean now?" Hermione just couldn't keep her curiosity down.
"Those in Gryffindor are mostly trained for the military, Hit Wizards or the high level Aurors. Just about every Captain or General comes from there. Hufflepuffs are trained to be Master craftsmen, herbologists, potioneers or creature handlers. They are mostly the ones that watch over an civis craftsman or head any business like that."
"Ravenclaws are usually trained to be government or other administrators and researchers. They can be found in almost any mid level to Undersecretary position in the Ministry, or in the Unspeakables. Slytherin are usually only those of Princep blood and trained to be managers, Wizengamot members, executives or any other position of power. Most Inquisitors were Slytherin. Some are Gryffindors," Neville whispered.
"Princeps, please be quiet," a man in an Inquisitor robes said. Others in the Great Hall were being quiet as well.
They all shut up. Hermione looked at the hall and realized that the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor tables had the most students, while the Slytherin the least. That pattern held as the students passed through the arches. She counted eighteen to Hufflepuff, sixteen to Gryffindor, twelve to Ravenclaw and eleven to Slytherin.
Those with torcs on their neck all sat at the end of the table. The new ones were taken in by the others. She saw a few arms go around the still terrified children. Not a single mancipium went to Slytherin. There were only three other mancipium sitting at the end of the table with the princeps.
Twenty-one princeps went through. Of those, the numbers were not as even. Harry and Neville went to Gryffindor, as did two girls. Only three went to Ravenclaw. Hufflepuff gained six of the princeps, while Slytherin gained eight.
Harry was the last princep and waited for Moraga and her to go through. Her robes changed to blue and silver while Morag's changed to yellow and black. When they walked up to the table, there were two spots at the very end. Hermione figured they were for her and Morag. Harry sat towards the front of the table. It looked like having twenty-one princeps was a large year for them, where most of others had between ten and fifteen.
The other three mancipiums were older. They looked to be maybe sixteen or seventeen. A girl in what looked like silk robes with blue trim and a very high style dress under that cut a little low on her chest were under them. She was a very attractive girl. Her black hair was perfectly straight. She gave them a discerning look from her hazel eyes, her nose up in the air, before turning away with a emotionless face. Hermione didn't like her.
A boy looked a little kinder, giving them a small nod. He was rather handsome. Again, his robes, even though they were school robes, looked very finely made. He had blue eyes to match his rather pale blue hair.
The last was a girl that was rather petite. This girl had sandy hair that fell in big, curly locks down her back. Her dull green eyes didn't meet Hermione's. Like the boy, she nodded in a deferential way.
Hermione had the though that there may be a pecking order among those with a torc as well. She was wondering if Harry's rank transferred to them.
None of them talked. There was actually very little noise in the hall.
She just had time to start those thoughts when a tall woman stood at a table at the front of the hall. All the talking stopped almost instantly. The others that had been in the last train car with them were silently encouraged to sit up and pay attention. Morag seemed to notice, but took her hand again under the table. Hermione realized they needed to stay together, especially with a good sixty or more people between them and Harry.
"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Before we get going, I would ask everyone to stand and we will give the pledge before we start our year," the woman said, turning to look at a large flag behind the table. It was Slytherin green with a black snake on it. Wands were crossed behind the snake. Below the snake was a circle with a large 'M' and words she couldn't read.
The whole hall stood. It was a disconcerting sound to have about six hundred students stand. Morag and her did the same. After a confusing look, the boy caught their attention. He put a fist in the center of his chest. "We, the faithful, pledge our loyalty and our wands to the Ministry and the faith that Wizards shall dominate the muggles. By our wand, or our life, we shall further the cause with each action and ensure the our world shall rise stronger and more powerful than ever before. My life. My wand. My soul. All in the name of the Faithful," just about every voice in the hall said at once. Only those that were new to magic seemed lost.
Hermione felt as though death had just walked over her grave. What had they just gotten into...?
-oOo-
Harry sat next to Neville. They were towards the front of the table. seventeen other students sat closer to the professor than them, all of them with gold primary rings. There were only eleven of them with silver rings. He counted fourteen with bronze rings, and Cordelia was sitting with twenty-one others. Hermione and Morag were at the end of the table with three others wearing torcs.
Around the hall, the Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Gryfindor tables had about twenty to thirty of the mancipium. Harry didn't like the term, but he didn't have a better term for them. He would not call them slaves! There were a hundred or more normal students at each table as well.
He was staying quiet as the woman up front turned back to them. "You may all sit."
He did as told.
"I am Headmistress Edgecombe. For those joining us for the first time, I hope you will find your next seven to nine years some of the most enjoyable of your life. During that time, I expect you all to maintain a high standard. Anyone that does not meet the high standards, they will find the rest of their education will not be as pleasant as you are sent to one of the other schools in the Empire," the woman told them.
Harry swallowed, determined not to meet that fate.
"For our returning students, you will notice eleven of you did not return this year. Most have gone to Yourkshire Military Academy."
He noticed some of the older students at the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor tables either get concerned looks or shift uncomfortably.
"That is the most in my six year tender. I am rather dissapointed and will be decreasing your free time for the next three months to encourage you to do better. Should anyone get below an acceptable and less than three exceeds expectations in your classes by Christmas will be getting a mid-year transfer. Anyone with less than four exceed expectation at the end of the year shall be having a talk with the Inquisitor before I sign your transfer papers," the woman demanded.
No one said a word.
She watched them all to make sure her message had been received. Harry shared a concern look with Neville. The redhead and blonde gave Neville a sidelong look saying they were apprehensive as well.
"As for the rules, they have not changed. I expect all prefects to inform our new students. All first years shall receive one forgiven infraction. After that, you will be punished. Now, enjoy our opening feast. I expect the hall to empty in our normal orderly fashion after the bell at eight o'clock," Headmistress Edgecombe said before sitting.
Harry looked to Neville, who just barely shook his head. Harry took that as a sign to stay quiet. He looked down the table. Morag and Hermione were looking towards him. "No harm will come to your mancipium," Neville said in a small voice.
No one spoke until food appeared on the crystal platters with gold trim. All the other tables had silver platters. Once it did, Neville nodded to the girls and boy across the table. "Princep Susan Bones. Princep Hannah Abbot. Princep Terrance Boot. May I introduce Princep Harry Potter?" Neville said to them.
The others inclined their heads. "Princep Potter, it is a pleasure to meet you," said Susan. "I am not familiar with the name Potter."
"I only found out a month ago," he replied. They were all putting food on their plates.
Terrance looked at him a little apprehensively. "A banned House?" the boy asked.
"Apparently not if he was able to claim his rights," Hannah said. "Where have you been? I know all the Secondaries and I have never seen you."
"Hannah," Susan said, sounding offended.
"An orphanage," Harry told them. He was feeling that if he admitted his parent had been part of whatever the October Revolt was was not a good thing.
"An orphanage? There are no orphanages," Hannah said.
Terrance and Susan looked just as curious.
"Ah, I was raised by muggles," Harry admitted. He noticed a few of the older years around them were listening. He wasn't sure how much to say.
Terrance made a little face. "And you survived? We hear all Muggles are animals and try to kill all magicals."
"Uhm, the Matron and the others never hurt me," Harry told him.
"Terry, that is enough," Neville told the boy. He shut his mouth.
Susan was studying him.
Hannah went on with the questions. "How do you have two mancipium? Even the richest families do not usually let any heirs have them before you turn fifteen. How powerful are the Potters?"
Harry felt his face heat up. This seemed to really intrigue many around them. "Uhm, its a long story."
"I think that is enough for now, Hannah," Susan said with a little command to her voice. Hannah quieted, still looking very intrigued. "If you want, you can call me Susan."
"Thank you, Susan. Harry," he replied.
"Oh, call me Hannah," the blonde said.
Someone cleared their throat from up the table. Neville, Susan, Hanna and Terry all stiffened and became much more formal. Harry tried to copy them. A boy in his late teens was looking at them. The few around him were looking on interested.
"Good evening. Did I hear your name is Potter?" the boy asked.
"Yes. Princep Harry Potter," he said, using the title that everyone around him was.
The older boy had dark brown hair and eyes to match. There was a very haughty feel to him. Harry found he didn't care for how the boy was looking down his nose at Harry. Perhaps having a silver ring wasn't as good as he thought. "I have not heard of that name. That must mean you are from one of the Houses that were admonished. I would be careful. Once a blood traitor, the heirs may not be as far away."
Harry was again feeling a scared as when Senior Inquisitor Umbridge had cast that spell on the boy. Harry was starting to feel guilty he didn't even know the boys name.
After that, they fell silent. Harry wasn't sure who or what to trust, but he found he may have to stay close to Neville, Susan and Hannah for now. Terry looked away and wouldn't say anything to him. The other three ignored Terry now.
Harry had to understand this as fast as possible. It might mean the difference between him surviving or not. It mean the difference of Hermione and Morag surviving.
Just before the dinner ended, a girl came over to him from the Head table. She had a silver badge on her uniform. "Princep Potter, when the bell rings the Headmistress would like you to go to the Head table."
"Thank you," he said worriedly. The look from the other people.. were they maybe his friends? Harry had no clue... made him feel worried.
He cast a look towards the girls when the bell rang. They waited for most of the people to leave before getting up and moving to the head table with him. The Headmistress and three others were waiting for him.
One of them was Professor Vector. The other was a man with a walrus mustache, a large mid-section and balding head. The other was a man with wire rim glasses, a gaunt face and skin that looked paper thin. The man looked over than time.
"Princep Potter, when I say I want to see you at the end of the feast, I expect it to be only you and for you to be here within sixty-seconds of the bell. Send your mancipium to your quarters in Gryffindor," Headmistress Edgecombe told him.
Harry turned to the girls. They had been told to stay together but his sense of survival told him not to cross this woman. Especially when three "You can still catch the other groups," he told them. "I won't be long."
Hermione didn't look pleased but turned. Morag gave him a concerned look and turned. They both ran to catch up to the group of Gryffindors just leaving the hall.
Harry turned back. The Headmistress was regarding him with an unreadable expression. After a moment, the aged man spoke up. "Princep Potter, we were uninformed you would be here. Senior Inquisitor Umbridge has indicated you were raised by Muggles?"
"Yes, sir," he said, trying to sound polite.
"Were you aware you were a Princep?"
"Not until I found my way to Gringotts on my eleventh birthday, sir." Harry was not looking at Professor Vector.
The man didn't give any reaction.
"Are you aware this is going to cause extra paperwork and the Wizengamot may want to know why and unknown House has suddenly come back into existance?" The man questioned.
"No, sir." Harry didn't know any of this.
The Headmistress spoke next. "Professor Ollivander, organize a tutor for Princep Potter. I will not have him embarrassing any of us. Verify if he has the funds. If not, offer the standard work reimbursments from his mancipium. Now, Princep Potter, Hogwarts is the premier school in the empire. I will be looking into your history. For now, you and your mancipium will show you deserve the priveledge of being here. By your House ring, you are the highest ranking Secondary at the school and you will act your station, not like some uncooth muggleborn. Is that understood."
Harry nodded and stopped. The reaction was not well received. "Yes, Headmistress. I will do my best."
"See you do. I would hate to make an example of you or your mancipium."
"No, ma'am," he said, standing taller.
None of them spoke for a moment and he found himself shuffle his feet a little under their glare.
"Professor Slughorn, talk with Professor Quirrell and Moody. I would like him to start with Officer training starting as soon as possible," the Headmistress told the portly man next to her.
The man looked at him like he was a shiny curio. "Of course, Headmistress. I will see if they can slot him as early as Wednesday," the man said. Harry swallowed hard.
"See you do." The Headmistress looked at him for a few more agonizing seconds. "Princep Potter, to suddenly show from and unknown House means your family has been jinxed by Minister Riddle himself. That is not a stain you want to keep for long. I can ensure you that if you perform poorly this year, your House will dissapear forever. I will not let your stain affect anyone else here. Now, get out of my sight."
Harry nodded. He didn't say anything, instead turning and walking out of the hall as fast as possible. When he made it out of the hall he realized he had no clue where to go. He looked around the entry hall in a panic for a moment when a woman came out of a door next to the great hall.
He was doing all he could to not show his panic. Things hadn't been bad in the orphanage, but one still learned when to show weakness and when not too. All his instincts were telling him this was not one of those times.
The woman stopped. It was the older austere woman that had come to take him to Diagon Alley until she found out he had already been there and bought all his supplied. She had made him show her.
"Princep Potter, what are you doing here? You should have gone up with the other Gryffindor," Professor McGonagall asked.
He was trying not to panic. He really was. He couldn't get in trouble on the first night, not with the threats from the Headmistress and the other boy. It took him a moment to find his voice. "Headmistress Edgecombe asked for me."
The woman's thin mouth let up. "I see. You will probably miss the rules and such by the Inquisitors. Come on. I will show you up there."
"Thank you, Professor," he replied.
She nodded her head. She started to walk up the stairs. Harry followed in her wake. As they walked, she said softly. "I assume the Headmistress informed you what she expects of you?"
"Yes, Professor."
The woman was quiet for a few. "I also assume she warned you that you would be watched? It is not everyday an exiled House is reborn."
She looked at the walls as they walked. Harry took a moment to realize she was looking at the paintings. He saw many talking and moving between frames. He liked to think he wasn't slow and got that the painting heard things.
Why would this woman warn him of something like that.
"You will be given private quarters as a princep. Only family paintings and heirlooms are allowed to the placed in the rooms. It can be rather private what happens between a princep and his mancipium," she said. "I trust you understand the importance of that bond?"
"Uhm, I think so," he said, only understanding what Hermione and Cordelia had said. WAIT! Professor MgGonagall was her great aunt. "Princep Ross started to explain. Is she your neice, Professor?"
The woman gave a little smile as they walked up a flight of stairs. "My great niece. I think she will be a great teacher. Most Ravenclaw seak knowledge, fewer care to share it. My niece enjoys sharing knowledge.
They walked in a wide room that went up five or six stories. He looked up to see dozens of staircases and his mouth opened to see two of them move. "This way," she ordered and followed her to a staircase on his left. They walked up four flight to the third floor.
"That painting of Millicent Gourd is the entrance to the main Gryffindor common room. Current password is Orion. You should asked a Prefect for the next password."
Harry looked across the way. Exactly opposite them the stairs came to a landing. He saw a portrait of a rather fat lady in a white Romanesque dress.
"Who is this curr," someone yelled from behind him. Her turned to see a knight with a small pony and over-large sword. The man swung it and overbalanced, landing helmet first in the grass.
Professor McGonagall sighed. "This is Sir Cadogan, the night guard on the Princep quarters. The current password is Minister Riddle. A Prefect Gaurd sets this. You will have to ask your dorm Guard for any new passwords. I would do that every Saturday."
Harry looked at her. "Uhm, sure."
She gave him a sympathetic look. "If you ever need help understanding what a princep is, you can visit my office."
"Thank you, ma'am."
She inclined her head. "You are welcome, Princep Potter. I look forward to having you in my classes starting fourth year. Now, get to bed. I have a feeling tomorrow is going to be a long day for you."
Harry nodded and gave the over excited knight the password.
"I may not have to fight you now, but I shall not forget this defeat," Sir Cadogan said as he stuck his sword point in the ground and leaned against it. "Get with you, curr." The painting opened and Harry had the thought he wished he had never found out he was a wizard.
-oOo-
Scoil na Draíocht = School of Magic