Title: Justice Served With A Side Of Fries

Author: Lady FoxFire

Pairing(s): None

Rating: PG-13

Setting: Book 1

Warning: None

Category(s): AU

Summary: A curse, a blessing and old magic - It's best to never assume anything

Disclaimer: Well this is usual where I tell the world that I dont own the Harry Potter universe and that I dont make any money off this fanfic and since I cant think of anything witty to say, this is what you get.

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 Dudley picked up his Smelting uniform including his Smelting stick from the tailor, Harry walked into the kitchen to find Aunt Petunia making something that smelled horribly in the a large metal tub in the sink.

After learning that Aunt Petunia was dying a few of Dudley's old things so that Harry had a new uniform for Stonewall High, Harry sat down at his place at the breakfast table.

Shortly after that Uncle Vernon and Dudley made their way into the kitchen, looks of disgust on their face from the smell of the dye Petunia was using. However they quickly settled down in their spots, Vernon with his newspaper and Dudley with his Smelting stick that he kept banging against the breakfast table.

Neither of them spoke one word to Harry nor even commented on the smell; in other words it was a perfectly normal day in the Dursley household

The click on the mail slot and the sound of letters landing on the doormat could be heard over the noise Dudley was making.

"Get the mail, Dudley," Vernon commanded as he turned the page of his newspaper.

"Make Harry get it," Dudley whined.

"Get the mail, Harry," Vernon ordered.

"Make Dudley get it," Harry replied using the same argument that Dudley had used.

"Poke him with your Smelting stick, Dudley," Vernon ordered as he continued to read his paper.

Dodging Dudley's swing, Harry went to get the mail. On the doormat were three letters: a postcard from Aunt Marge, something that looked like it was a bill and a think yellowish letter addressed to Harry.

Harry looked down at the letter in hand and then back the hallway towards the kitchen. Quickly he hid his letter down the back of his pants, making sure that his shirt covered any part of it that might be sticking up.

"Hurry up, boy!" Vernon should from the kitchen. "What are you doing, checking for letter bombs?" He chuckled at his own joke.

Harry picked up the other two letters and went back to the kitchen. Harry handed the mail to Vernon and sat down.

Vernon quickly opened the bill and snorted in disgust before turning his attention to the postcard from his sister. "Marge's ill," he read. "Ate a funny whelk more than likely. Says she'll have to cut her trip short and return home."

"Poor dear. I hope she feels better soon. I know how much she was looking forward to her trip," Petunia said as left the clothes to soak in the grey dye. "Was there anything else in the mail, Vernon?"

"Bill," Vernon said half-heartedly.

"Thats it?" Petunia said more forcefully.

Vernon looked up at Petunia with a curious expression before his eyes widen in realization at the mistake that he had made. "Boy!" he said as he turned to Harry. "Was there any more mail?"

Harry looked at Vernon in confusion. "No, sir," he answered. "Just the post card and letter."

"Why, mummy?" Dudley demanded. "Are you expecting something important?"

"Just a letter, Duddydums," Petunia replied. "Mummy's business. Do you think that tomorrow can you get the mail for me? I don't want Harry to get it, he might ruin it."

Dudley grinned evilly at Harry. "Yes, mummy."

Harry looked resigned to the fact that no matter what Harry did the Dursley family would always look down upon him and expect the worst from him.

"May I be excused?" Harry asked sadly.

Petunia looked down her nose at her nephew before thrusting out a sheet of paper at him with some writing on it. "Your chore list," she snapped. "I expect it to be done before dinner time."

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," Harry replied as he took the paper and rose from the table. Harry walked out of the room, shutting the kitchen door behind him. Harry paused for a moment in case Dudley had followed him in order to cause trouble before opening up his cupboard door and diving in.

"I got it!" Harry whispered excitedly into the empty cupboard that served as his bedroom.

Harry grinned and nodded his head. "I did exactly what you said. I hide it down my pants and they never noticed," he babbled.

Harry's grin grew wider. "Ok," he replied to something only he could hear before turning his attention to the letter. Opening it up he stared to read aloud. "Dear Mr. Potter, We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31. Yours sincerely Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress."

Harry's brow furrowed in thought. "What are we going to do?" he asked. "I mean they want a reply. What happens if one doesn't come? Will they come here?"

Harry looked up from the letter; the furrow vanished from his brow. "Alright, if you're sure but if I get into trouble, it's your fault."

"So when should I go to Diagon Alley?" Harry nodded his head as he listens to the answer. "That should work. I don't have to worry about Uncle Vernon since he should be at work and Aunt Petunia usually goes to have her hair done that day. But what about Dudley? And my chores? I'll be punished if I dont get them done."

Harry chewed on his bottom lip as he listened to whatever it was that he was talking to. Slowly he nodded his head. "I really hope your plan works because if it doesnt, I won't have to worry about anything ever again."

With a sigh, Harry put the letter under the thin mat that served as his bed. "It's best if I start on today's chores before they come looking for me," Harry told whatever it was he had spoken to earlier. "We won't want for them to find out all about this and try to stop us."

Harry quickly climbed out of his cupboard, shutting the door firmly on the empty little space.