Justice Served With A Side Of Fries by Lady FoxFire

[Reviews - 30]
Printer

Chapter or Story
Table of Contents
- Text Size +

Title: Justice Served With A Side Of Fries
Author: Lady FoxFire
Pairing(s): None
Rating: PG13
Setting: Book 1
Warning: None
Category(s): AU
Summary: A curse, a blessing and old magic – It’s best to never assume anything.
Disclaimer: Week 3 of trying to write a disclaimer for this fic and still my mind comes to a blank. It’s not hard to say that I do not own Harry Potter or do I make any money from this fic but to do it with style… now that is hard. I guess my style must fall flat once again, maybe next week it will have a spring in it’s step.

Bad Author Notes: I am the monkey at the keyboard so don’t blame me for what is written.

Now I know this chapter will be a little hard to believe but I promise you that everything will make sense once you read chapter 6. Just be patience and trust me.

The train ride to Hogwarts for Harry and the other first year was no different than it had been for any other first year going to that prestigious school. Some made friends, some started petty rivalries but for all it was a time to enjoy life at its simplest.

However all things must come to an end, even the train ride to Hogwarts. Now the first years were waiting to be sorted and to find which house they would belong to for the next seven years.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," Professor McGonagall announced. "Abbot, Hannah!"

A girl with blond pigtailed stumbled forwards. Taking the sorting hat, she put it on and sat down.

After the length of a few heartbeats, the hat shouted, "Hufflepuff!"

Taking the sorting hat off of her head, Hannah Abbot quickly joined her fellow Hufflepuffs at their table.

Susan Bones was called next and then Terry Boots. Hermione was sorted into Gryffindors while Draco Malfoy, the vile boy Harry met on the train, went to Slytherin. The sorting went on and on until Professor McGonagall called out "Potter, Harry!"

As Harry took a step forward the children from magical families moved out his way, snagging the Muggleborns and pulling them aside, giving him a clear path to the sorting hat and stool. In the future many of the first years would comment how kingly Harry was. It was as if he was the great king of England coming to reclaim his throne.

Harry stopped only a few strides away from Professor McGonagall and the sorting hat. He looked first at the hat sitting innocently on the stool then at McGonagall, finally he looked at the professors at the head table.

Square his shoulders and raising his head high, Harry said, "I, High Lord Harry Potter, last of the Potter line, son on James Potter and Lily Evans-Potter demand justice for my line. Nearly eleven years ago my line was betrayed by one we called friend, nay one we called brother, and this betrayal came to the cost of life of my beloved parents. As High Lord of the Potter line, I demand Breith Chríochnaitheach. It will by my will and my word that will decide the fate of those who betrayed my line. So mote it be!"

The torches that light the Great Hall flared up, so that it seems as every corner of the room was filled with light and then just as sudden the room is plunged into total darkness before relighting themselves.

Everyone in the Great Hall sat there silently. Almost everyone was confused about what they had witnessed but those very few who had understood what Harry had done looked upon him with fear.

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat. "If you will place the sorting hat on your head, Mr. Potter we can continue the sorting."

Harry turned and looked at her as if she was a slow child. "No," he said simply. "Not until the Breith Chríochnaitheach is completed and my line has justice."

"The Potter line already has justice, you conceited little boy," a man with greasy black hair said from his place at the head table. "Black is at Azkaban under the tender mercy of its guards."

"But not by my will and my hand," Harry replied to the greasy hair man.

"My dear boy," an old man with a long beard said from his place at the center of the head table, "I'm very sorry to say that what you ask is impossible. Black has been sentence to life imprisonment at Azkaban. I'm afraid he can not be released into anyone's custody."

Harry slowly looked at the students on his left, then at those on his right before turning back to the head table. "Then you will all lose your magic in seven days," Harry pronounced.

"What do you mean, lose our magic?" a red haired student from the Gryffindor table demanded.

Harry turned to the boy who had risen from his seat when he asked the question. "If the betrayer is not presented to me within seven days then everyone who heard my declaration will lose their magic… forever."

"But… But…" the red-head sputtered, "that's illegal."

Harry shook his head.

"It has to be illegal!" the red head exclaimed. "The Ministry would never allow it!"

"Actually High Lord Potter is completely within his rights," the sorting hat stated from where it sat on the stool patiently waiting for the next person to be sorted. "As head of one of the 13 founding lines, he is allowed to call for justices for his line or one of the lesser lines under his line's protection. For the Ministry or anyone to interfere or deny any of the founding lines their rights would be disastrous."

"In what way, Archimedes?" the old man said.

The sorting hat seems to turn around to face the old man while never moving from it place. "Because, Dumbledore, magic itself will decide on the punishment and the compensation that will be awarded to the injured party."

The sorting hat, Archimedes, turned back to Harry. "I am sure you will find many lines to be in your debt, High Lord Potter. Of course that will be once they know that their children are safe and unharmed after you have done with your line's betrayer."

"I can only hope so," Harry replied with a slight bow of his head.

"While this has been oh so entertaining, could we continue on with the sorting?" the greasy hair man next to Dumbledore said dreary. "After all some of us have things we have to do."

The sorting hat turned to the man. "I'm afraid that is not possible, Professor Snape."

"Any why not?" the greasy hair man, Snape demanded.

"Because High Lord Harry Potter is next to be sorted," the sorting hat replied.

"Then sort the boy!" Snape snapped before he turned his eyes on Harry. "Potter, sit down!" He pointed at the stool. "And be sorted!"

"And as I was saying before being so rudely interrupted," the sorting hate reminded him testily. "I can not sort High Lord Potter until after the Breith Chríochnaitheach has been dealt with endangering all present."

"What do you mean, Archimedes?" Dumbledore demanded.

"As you know full well that once a student is sorted they fall under the protection and command of the Hogwarts staff until they either complete their education or are expelled," the sorting hat explained. "If I was to sort the young High Lord he would become a head of line in abeyance and therefore magic might not view Young Potter as the head of the line and therefore unable to complete the Breith Chríochnaitheach. And if the Breith Chríochnaitheach can not be completed, magic might decide the fate of us all."

"Well then sort the next person," Snape commanded.

"I can't," the sorting hat replied. "I have to sort them as their name is called and since McGonagall has called Potter's name, I have to sort him next. Unless he withdraws from Hogwarts that is."

"I don't think we should go to that extreme," Dumbledore said quickly. "I'm sure we can delay the sorting for a few days."

"But we can't begin school until all the students have been sorted!" McGonagall pointed out.

"Minerva, I'm sure you in agreement, the students' safety is primary. We simply can not risk them," Dumbledore said. "Beside this is a unique opportunity for them. One I'm sure they will be grateful for in the future."

McGonagall placed her hands on her hips. "And what do we do with the students that haven’t been sorted yet?"

"I'm sure you'll think of something," Dumbledore replied. "I have faith in you."

"I will come with something!" McGonagall sputtered.

"But of course," Dumbledore said with a smile. "After all I'll be busy arranging for Black to be brought to Hogwarts."

"Brought to Hogwarts!" McGonagall exclaimed.

"Yes. Unfortunately Black must be present to and judged by young Harry in front of those he declared Breith Chríochnaitheach before," Dumbledore explained.

"With a huff of frustration McGonagall turned and fixed her gaze on Harry, who simple shrugged his shoulders.

~*~

A half-hour later Harry found himself and the other unsorted students sitting at a table in between the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables eating their dinner.

As the other students shoveled their food into their mouth, the red hair boy, Ron Weasley picked at his food.

"What's wrong," Harry asked his new friend.

"Nothing," Ron replied.

Harry looked at Ron, an eyebrow raised questioningly.

"Well… there is one… ok a few things I need to know," Ron said.

"Such as?" Harry asked before shovel a forkful of mash potatoes in his mouth.

"Isn't Azkaban enough?" Ron said. "I mean this Black character is already in prison. Isn't that enough? Why endanger the rest of us to get revenge?"

Harry put his silverware down on the table. He looked solemnly at the other boy. "Because it's not about revenge."

"Then what is it about?" a dark skin boy demanded.

"What do you know about Azkaban?" Harry asked.

"Inescapable prison guard by Dementors," Ron said with a shrug that said that was all he knew about it.

Harry nods his head. "And what do you know about Dementors?"

"Bad," Ron hiss. "My dad said that they feed on misery. They suck the good memories from you and then they live on the pain and misery you have as you remember all the bad things in your life. And if you get kiss by them… that it, you're done. They suck your soul out when they kiss you and eat it."

"How could they eat a soul?" a young Muggleborn girl asked. "I was told that souls are immortal."

Ron shrugged his shoulder. "That what my dad says. I don't know if it's true or not."

"So you have a prison that is guarded by creatures that slowly tortures people to insanity and death," Harry stated.

"Yeah but they're criminal, so what does it matter," a boy from the Ravenclaw chimed in.

"What if their crime was petty theft and not mass murder? Should they face the same punishment?" Harry asked. "What if they're not a criminal? It's not uncommon for political figure to toss dissenters into prison so they couldn't encourage the public to rebel."

"I doubt if they keep lesser criminals on the same level as some like Black or the Lestranges," the Ravenclaw said smugly. "And they won't send an innocent to Azkaban. It's against the law, besides it would come out in a trial."

Ron snorted. "Yeah, right! And they let Malfoy walk the street without having a trial and everyone knows he was a Death Eater."

"Malfoy was under an Imperius Curse, everyone knows that," the Ravenclaw pointed out.

"So you approve of torture then…," Harry said, trailing off since he didn't know the boy's name.

"Of course not!" the Ravenclaw replied.

"But you have no problem with criminals being tortured?" Harry asked.

"Of course not. They're criminals, they should be punished," the boy stated.

"Wouldn't it be better for them to lose their magic and then throw them into a Muggle jail?" Harry asked.

"No!" the Ravenclaw said in disgust.

"Why not?" Harry asked.

"Because Muggles are animals! You don’t…" the boy was saying when he stopped suddenly due to the girl next to him slapping him across the back of the head. "What was that for?" he demanded.

"My parents are Muggles, Death Eater," she snarled in the face of the boy.

"I'm not a Death Eater," the boy replied his eyes wide with shock.

"Sound like it to me," another boy at the Ravenclaw table chimed in.

"I'm not a Death Eater," the boy said in his defense as the Ravenclaw table started to debate whether or not the boy's opinion was enough to warrant the Death Eater label.

"There's something I want to know, Potter," the Muggleborn girl across the table from Harry said.

"And what's that?" Harry replied.

"How do you know all this stuff?" she asked. "I mean the books I read on you said you were Muggle-raised. Did you have special tutors or something?"

"Or something," Harry replied with a smirk.

"And what about all of this not being about revenge?" a dark skin boy demanded. "You never answered the question. You just started talking about Azkaban and Dementors."

Harry looked thoughtful for a moment. "Seven days. You'll know everything in seven days. Less if the Ministry does their job."

You must login (register) to review.

Justice Served With A Side Of Fries by Lady FoxFire [Reviews - 30] Chapter or Story Table of Contents - Text Size + Title: Justice Served With A Side Of Fries Author: Lady FoxFire Pairing(s): None Rating: PG13 Setting: Book 1 Warning: None Category(s): AU Summary: A curse, a blessing and old magic – It’s best to never assume anything. Disclaimer: Week 3 of trying to write a disclaimer for this fic and still my mind comes to a blank. It’s not hard to say that I do not own Harry Potter or do I make any money from this fic but to do it with style… now that is hard. I guess my style must fall flat once again, maybe next week it will have a spring in it’s step. Bad Author Notes: I am the monkey at the keyboard so don’t blame me for what is written. Now I know this chapter will be a little hard to believe but I promise you that everything will make sense once you read chapter 6. Just be patience and trust me. The train ride to Hogwarts for Harry and the other first year was no different than it had been for any other first year going to that prestigious school. Some made friends, some started petty rivalries but for all it was a time to enjoy life at its simplest. However all things must come to an end, even the train ride to Hogwarts. Now the first years were waiting to be sorted and to find which house they would belong to for the next seven years. "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," Professor McGonagall announced. "Abbot, Hannah!" A girl with blond pigtailed stumbled forwards. Taking the sorting hat, she put it on and sat down. After the length of a few heartbeats, the hat shouted, "Hufflepuff!" Taking the sorting hat off of her head, Hannah Abbot quickly joined her fellow Hufflepuffs at their table. Susan Bones was called next and then Terry Boots. Hermione was sorted into Gryffindors while Draco Malfoy, the vile boy Harry met on the train, went to Slytherin. The sorting went on and on until Professor McGonagall called out "Potter, Harry!" As Harry took a step forward the children from magical families moved out his way, snagging the Muggleborns and pulling them aside, giving him a clear path to the sorting hat and stool. In the future many of the first years would comment how kingly Harry was. It was as if he was the great king of England coming to reclaim his throne. Harry stopped only a few strides away from Professor McGonagall and the sorting hat. He looked first at the hat sitting innocently on the stool then at McGonagall, finally he looked at the professors at the head table. Square his shoulders and raising his head high, Harry said, "I, High Lord Harry Potter, last of the Potter line, son on James Potter and Lily Evans-Potter demand justice for my line. Nearly eleven years ago my line was betrayed by one we called friend, nay one we called brother, and this betrayal came to the cost of life of my beloved parents. As High Lord of the Potter line, I demand Breith Chríochnaitheach. It will by my will and my word that will decide the fate of those who betrayed my line. So mote it be!" The torches that light the Great Hall flared up, so that it seems as every corner of the room was filled with light and then just as sudden the room is plunged into total darkness before relighting themselves. Everyone in the Great Hall sat there silently. Almost everyone was confused about what they had witnessed but those very few who had understood what Harry had done looked upon him with fear. Professor McGonagall cleared her throat. "If you will place the sorting hat on your head, Mr. Potter we can continue the sorting." Harry turned and looked at her as if she was a slow child. "No," he said simply. "Not until the Breith Chríochnaitheach is completed and my line has justice." "The Potter line already has justice, you conceited little boy," a man with greasy black hair said from his place at the head table. "Black is at Azkaban under the tender mercy of its guards." "But not by my will and my hand," Harry replied to the greasy hair man. "My dear boy," an old man with a long beard said from his place at the center of the head table, "I'm very sorry to say that what you ask is impossible. Black has been sentence to life imprisonment at Azkaban. I'm afraid he can not be released into anyone's custody." Harry slowly looked at the students on his left, then at those on his right before turning back to the head table. "Then you will all lose your magic in seven days," Harry pronounced. "What do you mean, lose our magic?" a red haired student from the Gryffindor table demanded. Harry turned to the boy who had risen from his seat when he asked the question. "If the betrayer is not presented to me within seven days then everyone who heard my declaration will lose their magic… forever." "But… But…" the red-head sputtered, "that's illegal." Harry shook his head. "It has to be illegal!" the red head exclaimed. "The Ministry would never allow it!" "Actually High Lord Potter is completely within his rights," the sorting hat stated from where it sat on the stool patiently waiting for the next person to be sorted. "As head of one of the 13 founding lines, he is allowed to call for justices for his line or one of the lesser lines under his line's protection. For the Ministry or anyone to interfere or deny any of the founding lines their rights would be disastrous." "In what way, Archimedes?" the old man said. The sorting hat seems to turn around to face the old man while never moving from it place. "Because, Dumbledore, magic itself will decide on the punishment and the compensation that will be awarded to the injured party." The sorting hat, Archimedes, turned back to Harry. "I am sure you will find many lines to be in your debt, High Lord Potter. Of course that will be once they know that their children are safe and unharmed after you have done with your line's betrayer." "I can only hope so," Harry replied with a slight bow of his head. "While this has been oh so entertaining, could we continue on with the sorting?" the greasy hair man next to Dumbledore said dreary. "After all some of us have things we have to do." The sorting hat turned to the man. "I'm afraid that is not possible, Professor Snape." "Any why not?" the greasy hair man, Snape demanded. "Because High Lord Harry Potter is next to be sorted," the sorting hat replied. "Then sort the boy!" Snape snapped before he turned his eyes on Harry. "Potter, sit down!" He pointed at the stool. "And be sorted!" "And as I was saying before being so rudely interrupted," the sorting hate reminded him testily. "I can not sort High Lord Potter until after the Breith Chríochnaitheach has been dealt with endangering all present." "What do you mean, Archimedes?" Dumbledore demanded. "As you know full well that once a student is sorted they fall under the protection and command of the Hogwarts staff until they either complete their education or are expelled," the sorting hat explained. "If I was to sort the young High Lord he would become a head of line in abeyance and therefore magic might not view Young Potter as the head of the line and therefore unable to complete the Breith Chríochnaitheach. And if the Breith Chríochnaitheach can not be completed, magic might decide the fate of us all." "Well then sort the next person," Snape commanded. "I can't," the sorting hat replied. "I have to sort them as their name is called and since McGonagall has called Potter's name, I have to sort him next. Unless he withdraws from Hogwarts that is." "I don't think we should go to that extreme," Dumbledore said quickly. "I'm sure we can delay the sorting for a few days." "But we can't begin school until all the students have been sorted!" McGonagall pointed out. "Minerva, I'm sure you in agreement, the students' safety is primary. We simply can not risk them," Dumbledore said. "Beside this is a unique opportunity for them. One I'm sure they will be grateful for in the future." McGonagall placed her hands on her hips. "And what do we do with the students that haven’t been sorted yet?" "I'm sure you'll think of something," Dumbledore replied. "I have faith in you." "I will come with something!" McGonagall sputtered. "But of course," Dumbledore said with a smile. "After all I'll be busy arranging for Black to be brought to Hogwarts." "Brought to Hogwarts!" McGonagall exclaimed. "Yes. Unfortunately Black must be present to and judged by young Harry in front of those he declared Breith Chríochnaitheach before," Dumbledore explained. "With a huff of frustration McGonagall turned and fixed her gaze on Harry, who simple shrugged his shoulders. ~*~ A half-hour later Harry found himself and the other unsorted students sitting at a table in between the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables eating their dinner. As the other students shoveled their food into their mouth, the red hair boy, Ron Weasley picked at his food. "What's wrong," Harry asked his new friend. "Nothing," Ron replied. Harry looked at Ron, an eyebrow raised questioningly. "Well… there is one… ok a few things I need to know," Ron said. "Such as?" Harry asked before shovel a forkful of mash potatoes in his mouth. "Isn't Azkaban enough?" Ron said. "I mean this Black character is already in prison. Isn't that enough? Why endanger the rest of us to get revenge?" Harry put his silverware down on the table. He looked solemnly at the other boy. "Because it's not about revenge." "Then what is it about?" a dark skin boy demanded. "What do you know about Azkaban?" Harry asked. "Inescapable prison guard by Dementors," Ron said with a shrug that said that was all he knew about it. Harry nods his head. "And what do you know about Dementors?" "Bad," Ron hiss. "My dad said that they feed on misery. They suck the good memories from you and then they live on the pain and misery you have as you remember all the bad things in your life. And if you get kiss by them… that it, you're done. They suck your soul out when they kiss you and eat it." "How could they eat a soul?" a young Muggleborn girl asked. "I was told that souls are immortal." Ron shrugged his shoulder. "That what my dad says. I don't know if it's true or not." "So you have a prison that is guarded by creatures that slowly tortures people to insanity and death," Harry stated. "Yeah but they're criminal, so what does it matter," a boy from the Ravenclaw chimed in. "What if their crime was petty theft and not mass murder? Should they face the same punishment?" Harry asked. "What if they're not a criminal? It's not uncommon for political figure to toss dissenters into prison so they couldn't encourage the public to rebel." "I doubt if they keep lesser criminals on the same level as some like Black or the Lestranges," the Ravenclaw said smugly. "And they won't send an innocent to Azkaban. It's against the law, besides it would come out in a trial." Ron snorted. "Yeah, right! And they let Malfoy walk the street without having a trial and everyone knows he was a Death Eater." "Malfoy was under an Imperius Curse, everyone knows that," the Ravenclaw pointed out. "So you approve of torture then…," Harry said, trailing off since he didn't know the boy's name. "Of course not!" the Ravenclaw replied. "But you have no problem with criminals being tortured?" Harry asked. "Of course not. They're criminals, they should be punished," the boy stated. "Wouldn't it be better for them to lose their magic and then throw them into a Muggle jail?" Harry asked. "No!" the Ravenclaw said in disgust. "Why not?" Harry asked. "Because Muggles are animals! You don’t…" the boy was saying when he stopped suddenly due to the girl next to him slapping him across the back of the head. "What was that for?" he demanded. "My parents are Muggles, Death Eater," she snarled in the face of the boy. "I'm not a Death Eater," the boy replied his eyes wide with shock. "Sound like it to me," another boy at the Ravenclaw table chimed in. "I'm not a Death Eater," the boy said in his defense as the Ravenclaw table started to debate whether or not the boy's opinion was enough to warrant the Death Eater label. "There's something I want to know, Potter," the Muggleborn girl across the table from Harry said. "And what's that?" Harry replied. "How do you know all this stuff?" she asked. "I mean the books I read on you said you were Muggle-raised. Did you have special tutors or something?" "Or something," Harry replied with a smirk. "And what about all of this not being about revenge?" a dark skin boy demanded. "You never answered the question. You just started talking about Azkaban and Dementors." Harry looked thoughtful for a moment. "Seven days. You'll know everything in seven days. Less if the Ministry does their job." Previous Next You must login (register) to review.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended. Archive running on eFiction 3.5.x, software developed & maintained by The eFiction Project http://www.efiction.org/ :: Archive design based on original skin designed by Sally Anderson. All Rights Reserved.