Justice Served With A Side Of Fries by Lady FoxFire

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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: Do you know that it’s not easy thinking up how to write a disclaimer when you Muse is plotting out two need fic in your head as you try to wake up after finally getting a good night sleep. You won’t think it was hard to state that I don’t own the Harry Potter series nor do I make any money from this fic but it is hard. Do you write it in the legalese style, say it bluntly or do you have a guest character come in and do it for you… hmmm looks like I did it the babbling style.

Bad Author Notes: Special thanks to ThisAndThat172 for supply me the Gaelic translation I needed to in order to complete this fic. Also thank you KarraAnn Doyle for editing this fic when my usual editor could not due to her job.

This is my usual WTF fic so read it all before pointing fingers and saying that something is wrong.

It was a few days after receiving his letters from Hogwarts that Harry made his way to Diagon Alley using some funds he had borrowed from the Dursley.

Hiding his scar behind his bangs and a baseball hat, Harry snuck into the Leaky Cauldron. Going up to the barkeep, Harry said, "Ummm. Excuse me, sir,"

The barkeep looked up from where he was drying glasses with a dry rag. "Muggleborn? Did you get separated from your group?" the barkeep more declared than asked. He quickly went on without giving Harry a chance to speak. "Always happens at least once a year. Come along lad, I'll open the way for you."

"Thank you, sir," Harry said as he followed behind the barkeep.

The barkeep quickly tapped out the pattern on the brick way behind the pub and the solid brick wall started to transform into an archway through an alley way with shops lining it and people in all forms of dress walking up and down the street could be seen.

"There you go, lad," the barkeep said as he turned his back on Harry and start back to his pub. "Best catch up with your group."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," Harry said as he walked through the archway into Diagon Alley.

Harry wondered down the alley looking at the shops and all the people before going up to a woman dragging a little boy behind her, "Excuse me, ma'am but which way is Gringotts?"

The woman looked at Harry from head to toes and then sniffs of disdain she pointed down the alley. "It's the white building half way down the alley on the right," she said before dragging her child into a neighboring store.

With a shake of his head, Harry started off in the direction the woman had indicated and it wasn't long before he found himself of the steps of Gringotts. Taking a deep breath, Harry walked past the goblin guard and into the bank.

Harry quickly found himself in front of a teller, who looked down upon him with an indifferent stare.

"How may Gringotts serve you, young wizard?" the goblin teller said with a haughty attitude.

Harry raised a single eyebrow at the goblin's attitude then drawing himself up like he has seen his Aunt Petunia do when dealing with those she believed were lesser than her, Harry said, "I would like to speak to my account manager."

The goblin snorted in disgust. "I truly doubt one such as you would have an account with Gringotts… at least yet. And if you do have one then I doubt your parents would be pleased to find you have emptied it for some silly babble you found."

"And that is none of your business, goblin," Harry said in a deadly tone of voice. "I have requested to speak with my account manager and I will speak with him now."

The goblin looked at Harry, studied him, and then with a snort of disinterest as he turned back to the work he had been working on before, said, "Name?"

"Potter. Harry Potter," Harry replied with a small smirk.

The goblin froze what he was doing. Slowly he raised his head so he could look at Harry once again.

Harry tipped his head slightly before saying, "I would like to see my account manager today."

A teethe and unpleasant grin appeared on the goblin's face. "Very well, wizard," the goblin purred, "I'm sure your account manager would be pleased to see you and if not the dragons will be happy to dine upon you."

A smirk appeared on Harry's face. "In that case I'm sure you can express my regrets to them for not joining them for dinner."

The goblin's grin vanished from his face before he said, "This way, young wizard."

The goblin teller led him to a simple wood door. He quickly knocked on the door before opening it. Standing in the doorway he announced to whoever was inside, "Sir, a young wizard wish to speak to you about his accounts."

A muffled "Send him in," could be heard from whoever was in the room.

The goblin teller turned to Harry and said, "You may go in, wizard."

Harry nodded his head as he brushed past the goblin as he entered the room. The goblin teller pulled the door shut behind him.

"You wish to speak to me about your account, wizard," a wizened goblin said, his head bowed over a book he was writing in.

"I do, sir," Harry replied as he stood respectfully by the door.

"You do realize I serve as the Potter family account manager," the goblin said as he continued with his work.

"I would hope so, sir, since that is who I asked for," Harry replied.

The goblin looked up from his work. "Are you claiming to a Potter, young wizard?"

"No, sir, I am not claiming to be a Potter. I am a Potter," Harry stated.

The goblin closed the book he was working on at Harry's declaration. "Do you realize the punishment you will face if you are found out to be lying, young wizard?"

"I believe dinner with dragons was mention," Harry said, "with me as the dinner."

The goblin chucked as he pulled open a draw in his desk. "That is one possibility, young wizard," the old goblin said as he pulled out a simple wooden box from the draw. "Inside this box is a magical device that will be able to tell me if you truly are a Potter or someone who is pretending to be," the goblin said as he rest a hand on the box. "This is your last chance. You can leave now without harm or we can see if you are speaking the truth."

"I know the truth," Harry said as he nods his head towards the box, "it's best if you do too."

The goblin nodded his head and opened the box. Inside was a small round silvery black sphere. "Hold the sphere in your right hand," the goblin commanded.

"What will happen?" Harry asked as he walked over to the desk and looked down at the sphere.

"Either it will confirm what you have said or you will be meeting with some dragons in the near and very short future," the goblin said.

Harry reached out and picked up the sphere in his right hand. The sphere appeared to glow and pulse. The silvery black color began to change and swirl as it became lighter in color. Suddenly it all stopped. In Harry's hand was now a jade green sphere.

"How may Gringotts serve you today, young Mr. Potter?" the goblin asked as he took the sphere from Harry's hand.

An almost sinister grin appeared on Harry's face.

~*~

It was a bit after noon when Harry finished his business with Gringotts and exited the building, his baseball hat pulled down to cover his scar only to have it knocked off by the hand of a bushy brown haired girl as she gestured wildly at the things around her.

"Terribly sorry," the girl apologized. "I was just pointing out the architecture to my parents. Do you think the Australia embassy building was inspired by Gringotts or the reverse? Of course both building do appear to have been inspired by Greek and Rome architecture."

"That’s alright," Harry said as he bent down to pick up his hat. "No harm done."

As he straightened up, a sharp hiss came from one of the adults that were accompanying the girl.

"Harry Potter," a woman's voice hissed.

"Yes, ma'am?" Harry replied automatically as he looked between the two women, trying to figure out who had spoken his name.

"What are you doing here unescorted?" an older woman with square glasses and unusual grace for her age demanded as she took the ball cap from Harry and put it on his head. "It's dangerous for you to be here alone. Where are your aunt and uncle? Did they bring you here? Did you get separated?"

"Uhhh…" Harry struggled to come up with an answer for the woman.

"Not that any of that matters now," the woman said never giving Harry time to reply. "I'm sure the Grangers won't mind if we include you in our little group. I'm assuming you've just finished with Gringotts and you have coins for school supplies."

Harry nodded his head as the woman more or less steamrolled him into going shopping with the family she was escorting.

"Very good," the woman declared. "I expect you to keep your cap on at all-time unless I say otherwise. If I had known you were coming today, I would have asked for more help or at least have more Aurors on duty in case there was any trouble."

"What kind of trouble?" Mr. Granger asked as he eyed Harry warily.

"Nothing to be too concerned about," the woman explained. "Young Mr. Potter here is a tad bit famous and has been secluded from the magical world since he was a child. I'm afraid that if people found out he was here today that we might be mobbed by those desiring to be the first to meet and greet him."

"Famous for what, Professor McGonagall?" Mrs. Granger asked as she stepped closer to Harry as if she was worried that there was more going on than the professor had mentioned and not all of it good, given how swiftly the woman had include the boy in their outing instead of trying to look for his family.

Professor McGonagall looked around for anyone who could cause a problem before saying in a soft voice, "About 11 years ago there was a war… a rebellion lead by a madman… one night this madman came to Harry's home… Harry was the only one to survive that night."

"And the madman. What happened to him?" Mr. Granger demanded.

"Gone," McGonagall replied. "It's believed that when he tried to kill young Harry something went wrong and he died. Leaving on a single wound on the babe."

"Why weren't we informed of this before we agreed to allow our daughter to go to your school?" Mr. Granger demanded. "Because it's obvious you are worried about something other than fans finding out Mr. Potter is here, aren't you, Professor."

McGonagall pulled herself into a more queenly manner and said, "Not all of the madman's supporters were captured. Some may wish to get revenge on Harry for their lose."

"And exactly what were these people rebelling against?" Mrs. Granger demanded.

"They wish to limit the effects that Muggleborn such as your daughter might have on our culture, our way of life," McGonagall explained. "They wish to limit those allowed in our world to those who were more adapted to it."

"By killing or trying to kill children to do it," Mrs. Granger growled. "I'm beginning to reconsider our agreement in allowing Hermione to attend your school, Professor."

"Mummy!" Hermione cried in outrage.

"Hush, Hermione," Mrs. Granger snapped.

"Unfortunately it's too late to change your mind," Professor McGonagall said.

"What do you mean by that?" Mr. Granger growled.

"By agree to allow your daughter to attend Hogwarts, you've entered into a magical contact," McGonagall explained. "You can simply can not just change your mind. Magic, itself, will force your daughter to attend Hogwarts."

"And if we keep our daughter from attending your school. What then?" Mr. Granger demanded.

McGonagall shook her head. "It's not possible to stop your daughter from attending. Your daughter, Hermione, will simply appear at Hogwarts if you try to keep her from attending. And unfortunately at that time we would be forced to inform the Ministry of your actions. Hermione would not be allowed to return to your home until she graduates."

"Excuse me, Professor," Harry spoke up before the Grangers could respond to what they had just learned. "But is the contract for one term or until Hermione finishes school?”

McGonagall blinked at Harry in confusion having never been asked that question before. "I believe the contract is renewed each year that a student passes all of the required classes."

"So if she failed her classes," Harry said as Hermione hissed at the idea that she would fail at anything, "she would be freed from the contract."

"Technically that is correct; however the Ministry laws forbid anyone who has started their education to stop unless they are expelled for knowingly violating endangered the lives of their fellow students or until they have completed their O.W.L.S."

"And what are they, the O.W.L.S?" Mr. Granger growled; his arms cross over his chest.

"A series of test that students take at the end of their fifth year," McGonagall stated. "How well or poorly a student does on their O.W.L.S. will help determine their place in the wizard society, their future careers."

"Why weren't we told about this magical contact before now," Mrs. Granger asked.

McGonagall looked at Mrs. Granger with a slightly confused looked. "Because before now no Muggleborn has ever thought of pulling their child from Hogwarts; after all it is the premium school for witchcraft and wizardry in all of Britain."

"Are you saying that none of the parents of Muggleborn wished to withdraw their children from your school when you had that little rebellion?" Mrs. Granger growled. "I can hardly believe that any parent would allow their child to remain in such danger or did you neglect to inform them of the facts as you did us?"

"All parents were supplied with the necessary information," McGonagall replied.

"Was that before or after they agreed to send their children to your school?" Mr. Granger growled.

"Mr. Granger, I understand your frustrations and I agree with you about how things are handled but I am forced as an employee of Hogwarts to follow the guidelines set down which does include what we can tell potential students and their family about the school and our community before they agreed to enroll at Hogwarts," McGonagall explained. "And even then we are only allowed to tell the parents if they ask about it."

"So you were just following orders," Mr. Granger growled.

"Unfortunately so, Mr. Granger," McGonagall replied.

"Just like the guard at the Nazi death camps. Just following orders," Mr. Granger stated in a dead calm. "Then I'm sure you'll understand that my daughter will be well armed when she attends your little school after all when won't want something unseemly to happened to her, now would we?"

McGonagall eyes widened in shock. "What do you mean by that!" she demanded.

A sinister smile graced Mr. Granger's face. "Come along dear, we have shopping to do."

"Mr. Granger I insist that you tell me what you mean!" McGonagall demanded.

"It would be really cool if you could get a list of other Muggleborn parents to form a support group," Harry suggested as he walked with the Grangers to the shops as McGonagall trailed behind.

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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: Do you know that it’s not easy thinking up how to write a disclaimer when you Muse is plotting out two need fic in your head as you try to wake up after finally getting a good night sleep. You won’t think it was hard to state that I don’t own the Harry Potter series nor do I make any money from this fic but it is hard. Do you write it in the legalese style, say it bluntly or do you have a guest character come in and do it for you… hmmm looks like I did it the babbling style. Bad Author Notes: Special thanks to ThisAndThat172 for supply me the Gaelic translation I needed to in order to complete this fic. Also thank you KarraAnn Doyle for editing this fic when my usual editor could not due to her job. This is my usual WTF fic so read it all before pointing fingers and saying that something is wrong. It was a few days after receiving his letters from Hogwarts that Harry made his way to Diagon Alley using some funds he had borrowed from the Dursley. Hiding his scar behind his bangs and a baseball hat, Harry snuck into the Leaky Cauldron. Going up to the barkeep, Harry said, "Ummm. Excuse me, sir," The barkeep looked up from where he was drying glasses with a dry rag. "Muggleborn? Did you get separated from your group?" the barkeep more declared than asked. He quickly went on without giving Harry a chance to speak. "Always happens at least once a year. Come along lad, I'll open the way for you." "Thank you, sir," Harry said as he followed behind the barkeep. The barkeep quickly tapped out the pattern on the brick way behind the pub and the solid brick wall started to transform into an archway through an alley way with shops lining it and people in all forms of dress walking up and down the street could be seen. "There you go, lad," the barkeep said as he turned his back on Harry and start back to his pub. "Best catch up with your group." "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," Harry said as he walked through the archway into Diagon Alley. Harry wondered down the alley looking at the shops and all the people before going up to a woman dragging a little boy behind her, "Excuse me, ma'am but which way is Gringotts?" The woman looked at Harry from head to toes and then sniffs of disdain she pointed down the alley. "It's the white building half way down the alley on the right," she said before dragging her child into a neighboring store. With a shake of his head, Harry started off in the direction the woman had indicated and it wasn't long before he found himself of the steps of Gringotts. Taking a deep breath, Harry walked past the goblin guard and into the bank. Harry quickly found himself in front of a teller, who looked down upon him with an indifferent stare. "How may Gringotts serve you, young wizard?" the goblin teller said with a haughty attitude. Harry raised a single eyebrow at the goblin's attitude then drawing himself up like he has seen his Aunt Petunia do when dealing with those she believed were lesser than her, Harry said, "I would like to speak to my account manager." The goblin snorted in disgust. "I truly doubt one such as you would have an account with Gringotts… at least yet. And if you do have one then I doubt your parents would be pleased to find you have emptied it for some silly babble you found." "And that is none of your business, goblin," Harry said in a deadly tone of voice. "I have requested to speak with my account manager and I will speak with him now." The goblin looked at Harry, studied him, and then with a snort of disinterest as he turned back to the work he had been working on before, said, "Name?" "Potter. Harry Potter," Harry replied with a small smirk. The goblin froze what he was doing. Slowly he raised his head so he could look at Harry once again. Harry tipped his head slightly before saying, "I would like to see my account manager today." A teethe and unpleasant grin appeared on the goblin's face. "Very well, wizard," the goblin purred, "I'm sure your account manager would be pleased to see you and if not the dragons will be happy to dine upon you." A smirk appeared on Harry's face. "In that case I'm sure you can express my regrets to them for not joining them for dinner." The goblin's grin vanished from his face before he said, "This way, young wizard." The goblin teller led him to a simple wood door. He quickly knocked on the door before opening it. Standing in the doorway he announced to whoever was inside, "Sir, a young wizard wish to speak to you about his accounts." A muffled "Send him in," could be heard from whoever was in the room. The goblin teller turned to Harry and said, "You may go in, wizard." Harry nodded his head as he brushed past the goblin as he entered the room. The goblin teller pulled the door shut behind him. "You wish to speak to me about your account, wizard," a wizened goblin said, his head bowed over a book he was writing in. "I do, sir," Harry replied as he stood respectfully by the door. "You do realize I serve as the Potter family account manager," the goblin said as he continued with his work. "I would hope so, sir, since that is who I asked for," Harry replied. The goblin looked up from his work. "Are you claiming to a Potter, young wizard?" "No, sir, I am not claiming to be a Potter. I am a Potter," Harry stated. The goblin closed the book he was working on at Harry's declaration. "Do you realize the punishment you will face if you are found out to be lying, young wizard?" "I believe dinner with dragons was mention," Harry said, "with me as the dinner." The goblin chucked as he pulled open a draw in his desk. "That is one possibility, young wizard," the old goblin said as he pulled out a simple wooden box from the draw. "Inside this box is a magical device that will be able to tell me if you truly are a Potter or someone who is pretending to be," the goblin said as he rest a hand on the box. "This is your last chance. You can leave now without harm or we can see if you are speaking the truth." "I know the truth," Harry said as he nods his head towards the box, "it's best if you do too." The goblin nodded his head and opened the box. Inside was a small round silvery black sphere. "Hold the sphere in your right hand," the goblin commanded. "What will happen?" Harry asked as he walked over to the desk and looked down at the sphere. "Either it will confirm what you have said or you will be meeting with some dragons in the near and very short future," the goblin said. Harry reached out and picked up the sphere in his right hand. The sphere appeared to glow and pulse. The silvery black color began to change and swirl as it became lighter in color. Suddenly it all stopped. In Harry's hand was now a jade green sphere. "How may Gringotts serve you today, young Mr. Potter?" the goblin asked as he took the sphere from Harry's hand. An almost sinister grin appeared on Harry's face. ~~ It was a bit after noon when Harry finished his business with Gringotts and exited the building, his baseball hat pulled down to cover his scar only to have it knocked off by the hand of a bushy brown haired girl as she gestured wildly at the things around her. "Terribly sorry," the girl apologized. "I was just pointing out the architecture to my parents. Do you think the Australia embassy building was inspired by Gringotts or the reverse? Of course both building do appear to have been inspired by Greek and Rome architecture." "That’s alright," Harry said as he bent down to pick up his hat. "No harm done." As he straightened up, a sharp hiss came from one of the adults that were accompanying the girl. "Harry Potter," a woman's voice hissed. "Yes, ma'am?" Harry replied automatically as he looked between the two women, trying to figure out who had spoken his name. "What are you doing here unescorted?" an older woman with square glasses and unusual grace for her age demanded as she took the ball cap from Harry and put it on his head. "It's dangerous for you to be here alone. Where are your aunt and uncle? Did they bring you here? Did you get separated?" "Uhhh…" Harry struggled to come up with an answer for the woman. "Not that any of that matters now," the woman said never giving Harry time to reply. "I'm sure the Grangers won't mind if we include you in our little group. I'm assuming you've just finished with Gringotts and you have coins for school supplies." Harry nodded his head as the woman more or less steamrolled him into going shopping with the family she was escorting. "Very good," the woman declared. "I expect you to keep your cap on at all-time unless I say otherwise. If I had known you were coming today, I would have asked for more help or at least have more Aurors on duty in case there was any trouble." "What kind of trouble?" Mr. Granger asked as he eyed Harry warily. "Nothing to be too concerned about," the woman explained. "Young Mr. Potter here is a tad bit famous and has been secluded from the magical world since he was a child. I'm afraid that if people found out he was here today that we might be mobbed by those desiring to be the first to meet and greet him." "Famous for what, Professor McGonagall?" Mrs. Granger asked as she stepped closer to Harry as if she was worried that there was more going on than the professor had mentioned and not all of it good, given how swiftly the woman had include the boy in their outing instead of trying to look for his family. Professor McGonagall looked around for anyone who could cause a problem before saying in a soft voice, "About 11 years ago there was a war… a rebellion lead by a madman… one night this madman came to Harry's home… Harry was the only one to survive that night." "And the madman. What happened to him?" Mr. Granger demanded. "Gone," McGonagall replied. "It's believed that when he tried to kill young Harry something went wrong and he died. Leaving on a single wound on the babe." "Why weren't we informed of this before we agreed to allow our daughter to go to your school?" Mr. Granger demanded. "Because it's obvious you are worried about something other than fans finding out Mr. Potter is here, aren't you, Professor." McGonagall pulled herself into a more queenly manner and said, "Not all of the madman's supporters were captured. Some may wish to get revenge on Harry for their lose." "And exactly what were these people rebelling against?" Mrs. Granger demanded. "They wish to limit the effects that Muggleborn such as your daughter might have on our culture, our way of life," McGonagall explained. "They wish to limit those allowed in our world to those who were more adapted to it." "By killing or trying to kill children to do it," Mrs. Granger growled. "I'm beginning to reconsider our agreement in allowing Hermione to attend your school, Professor." "Mummy!" Hermione cried in outrage. "Hush, Hermione," Mrs. Granger snapped. "Unfortunately it's too late to change your mind," Professor McGonagall said. "What do you mean by that?" Mr. Granger growled. "By agree to allow your daughter to attend Hogwarts, you've entered into a magical contact," McGonagall explained. "You can simply can not just change your mind. Magic, itself, will force your daughter to attend Hogwarts." "And if we keep our* daughter from attending your school. What then?" Mr. Granger demanded. McGonagall shook her head. "It's not possible to stop your daughter from attending. Your daughter, Hermione, will simply appear at Hogwarts if you try to keep her from attending. And unfortunately at that time we would be forced to inform the Ministry of your actions. Hermione would not be allowed to return to your home until she graduates." "Excuse me, Professor," Harry spoke up before the Grangers could respond to what they had just learned. "But is the contract for one term or until Hermione finishes school?” McGonagall blinked at Harry in confusion having never been asked that question before. "I believe the contract is renewed each year that a student passes all of the required classes." "So if she failed her classes," Harry said as Hermione hissed at the idea that she would fail at anything, "she would be freed from the contract." "Technically that is correct; however the Ministry laws forbid anyone who has started their education to stop unless they are expelled for knowingly violating endangered the lives of their fellow students or until they have completed their O.W.L.S." "And what are they, the O.W.L.S?" Mr. Granger growled; his arms cross over his chest. "A series of test that students take at the end of their fifth year," McGonagall stated. "How well or poorly a student does on their O.W.L.S. will help determine their place in the wizard society, their future careers." "Why weren't we told about this magical contact before now," Mrs. Granger asked. McGonagall looked at Mrs. Granger with a slightly confused looked. "Because before now no Muggleborn has ever thought of pulling their child from Hogwarts; after all it is the premium school for witchcraft and wizardry in all of Britain." "Are you saying that none of the parents of Muggleborn wished to withdraw their children from your school when you had that little rebellion?" Mrs. Granger growled. "I can hardly believe that any parent would allow their child to remain in such danger or did you neglect to inform them of the facts as you did us?" "All parents were supplied with the necessary information," McGonagall replied. "Was that before or after they agreed to send their children to your school?" Mr. Granger growled. "Mr. Granger, I understand your frustrations and I agree with you about how things are handled but I am forced as an employee of Hogwarts to follow the guidelines set down which does include what we can tell potential students and their family about the school and our community before they agreed to enroll at Hogwarts," McGonagall explained. "And even then we are only allowed to tell the parents if they ask about it." "So you were just following orders," Mr. Granger growled. "Unfortunately so, Mr. Granger," McGonagall replied. "Just like the guard at the Nazi death camps. Just following orders," Mr. Granger stated in a dead calm. "Then I'm sure you'll understand that my daughter will be well armed when she attends your little school after all when won't want something unseemly to happened to her, now would we?" McGonagall eyes widened in shock. "What do you mean by that!" she demanded. A sinister smile graced Mr. Granger's face. "Come along dear, we have shopping to do." "Mr. Granger I insist that you tell me what you mean!" McGonagall demanded. "It would be really cool if you could get a list of other Muggleborn parents to form a support group," Harry suggested as he walked with the Grangers to the shops as McGonagall trailed behind. Previous Next You must login (register) to review.

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