Sunday, November 1, 1994 - Morning
The last head of house to respond to the summons had arrived. Severus Snape scowled at the assembled group. “This had better be important. I am brewing a vital batch of healing potions in the laboratory.”
“Does anyone care for a lemon drop?” Dumbledore hopefully held out the dish of his favourite sour sweets.
“NO THANKYOU!” was the unanimous reply.
“Headmaster! May we please move along.” Snape muttered.
“This won’t take long.” Dumbledore snarked back.
“I’ve got copies of Edicts from Mount Olympus for each of you. I’ve tested them. They are all genuine. This minister is terrified. The tournament is going to be a nightmare for all of us.”
Dumbledore gave two parchments to each head of house. The parchments were read with exclamations of surprise and disgust.
“Albus, these must be fake, they’re a joke. I know there are two Gryffindors who would love to do something like this for a laugh.” McGonagall did not look impressed. The other heads huffed and got up to leave.
Dumbledore spoke to their retreating backs. “Give those Edicts to the students they are addressed to. The ministry isn’t laughing. All of us must attend a meeting at the Ministry tonight. The parents, guardians and each of those students will be there. Get ready for a lot of attacks; verbal and physical.”
The heads of house rushed out; they were angry and ready to give a certain Gryffindor named Potter a hard time. The angry parade of teachers marched away from the headmaster’s office. Harry waited around a corner until they were gone. He then approached the gargoyle guard; “I have an appointment with the headmaster.”
The gargoyle smoothly moved away revealing the rising staircase. Harry stepped up, dreading what was going to happen next. The only word he had from anyone this morning was a one-line note ordering him to see the headmaster.
“Harry, my boy. Come in, sit down. Care for a lemon drop?” Dumbledore smiled with his trademark twinkling eye.
“No thank-you headmaster. I have had breakfast in the guest suite.” Harry was only just responding to the headmaster. Real depression was taking him down a dark path.
“Now, Harry! You must try to look on the bright side. We will soon have everything fixed up and then you can go back to the Gryffindor Tower and get ready for your first task.” Dumbledore beamed at Harry as though everything that had been done to him was a minor hiccup.
The headmaster studied Harry, as though he was waiting for a happy reaction.
None came.
Harry stared at a point in space over the headmaster’s right shoulder. His face was blank, his eyes expressionless.
“However, I must admit that one thing has happened which might make things a trifle difficult.” Dumbledore’s smile faded just a little.
Harry braced himself for yet another load of dragon dung to land on him.
“I must admit that the thing about returning to Gryffindor is never going to happen. I was just trying to see what your reaction would be.”
Harry stared at a point in space further away from the headmaster. His face was blank, his eyes expressionless.
“Now! The thing is Harry, you are no longer a student at Hogwarts.” The words came out in a rush.
Harry tried to avoid eye contact with Dumbledore. He didn’t know what it was, but bad things happened if he let the headmaster stare into his eyes for too long.
“I’m expelled from Hogwarts then. I’ll lose my magic. Great, it’s not as though anything good has come of it so far.” Harry was now talking to his shoes. “I’ll go back to London. I’m not going back to the Dursleys. Nothing can make me go back there.”
“Harry, there has been a lot of interest in you; particularly since last night. Do you know who the Gods of Olympus are?” Dumbledore stopped talking. Harry risked a glance at his face. Dumbledore seemed to be struggling with something he didn’t want to say.
“The Gods of Olympus, Zeus and Hades and all that stuff. They are children’s stories.” Harry was not amused.
“Children’s stories like magic, witches and wizards, Harry.” Dumbledore didn’t sound happy either.
“You mean they are real, but what do they have to do with me?”
Dumbledore searching for his next words.
“Ah! Well! It seems that our education for muggle raised students needs some work. The Gods of Olympus, Harry, make magic happen. They make the rules that enable us to use magic, Hecate is the goddess of magic, but she is not the highest-ranking god. If they want to, they can stop and start magic for anyone. Usually, they don’t interfere. They set magic up for us to use and they let us go until someone really gets them upset. They talk to different magical people around the world in different ways. In Magical Britain we know them as the Gods of Olympus. Wizards from Nordic countries know them as Odin and so on.” Dumbledore stopped again as if he didn’t want to continue.
“I still don’t see what that has to do with me.” Harry was starting get up, as if to leave.
“Now Harry, the last Edict from Mount Olympus was more than 400 years ago. This morning we got eight in a few seconds. They were all about you.” Dumbledore whispered the last words.
“About me! What about me? Why? Surely they wouldn’t worry about one junior wizard being kicked out of Gryffindor?” Harry was at last getting more life in him.
“Harry, it seems that they do. I have here copies of the eight edicts. They do several things for you. They emancipate you, which means that you are now legally an adult. They give you your inheritances, which were being kept for you until you became an adult at seventeen. They made you head of the House of Potter. They recognize you as a student at a new school of magic which is the Potter School of Magic. That is why you are no longer a student at Hogwarts. They also gave you eight companions to help you with your mission. These companions are also now students at the Potter School of Magic.” Dumbledore seemed to run out of words.
Dumbledore handed the eight parchments to Harry. After reading through the first one several times, Harry looked at each of the seven others.
“I know Hermione, of course and Ginny and some of the others but only a few. They are all girls in my year or third year. What are they supposed to do? What is a vassal anyway?”
Dumbledore mumbled to himself then came back to Harry. “Vassal is an old word for anyone who is bound to serve a lord, called a liege-lord. The lord in return must protect and care for the vassal. It was common in the bad old days when the poor could be enslaved and sold on the slave market. A debtor who was in danger of being sold into slavery by his creditors could ask a lord to take him as a vassal. The lord would pay the debt, but the vassal then owed the lord service. A vassal was protected as long as he or she served his or her lord. In the muggle world vassalage died out long ago as the muggle rule of law started to protect the poor. In the magical world it still survives of course. Magical vassals are bound by magic and will suffer if they do not obey their master. Their magic will fade. If they are not strong, they will die.”
“Did the Gods of Olympus create the Potter School of Magic or is that something someone made up?” Harry was getting suspicious.
“The Potter School of Magic is a real thing. It is registered with the Ministry and is perfectly legal. It was created by the Goblet of Fire, which also made you the only student, so that your name would come out of it.” Dumbledore was mumbling and looking embarrassed.
“So! You know how someone rigged the Goblet of Fire to spit out my name and the ministry knows. If I am an adult now, I don’t have to stay here and compete. I can just walk away, go back to the muggle world and FORGET ABOUT ALL OF YOU!” Harry’s rage was slowly building. He was now shouting. Parchments and old sweet wrappers were blowing around the office in a mini tornado centred on Harry.
“Harry, what about the eight students who the Gods of Olympus have made your vassals. They are depending on you now. If you walk out, they will be in a difficult situation. They may even lose their magic.” The headmaster had his patented disappointed face on. He didn’t mention that all Harry had to do was say that he released them from their vassalage, and they would be free. Of course, the Gods of Olympus would then send Harry eight more.
Dumbledore thought of a muggle expression which might not be appreciated at the moment.
If you are stuck in a hole, stop digging.
Harry left the office and walked slowly towards the guest suite.
Mission! What mission? I don’t have a mission. I just want to survive. Maybe I don’t? Who would miss me if I were gone? Hermione might. She will get over it.
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