Chapter 17 Lawyers and Cops

Harry's POV

That morning, the quartet was eating at the Gryffindor table again and simply chatting about what they were going to do that day. Rumors that the Potions Master had been pranked were already making their way around the Hall. Harry laughed his arse off when he heard what the man looked like and what he had been singing. Hermione had to tell the other two what was so funny, and they all joined in. The dark-haired teen knew it had been Sirius and he was going to have to congratulate the man, as well and yell at him for coming in the castle. He was supposed to stay in the Shack, not put himself in danger.

Harry had a sudden thought and with a blink he put up a shield around the house so that no one could see it, except Sirius, Winky, Dobby and himself. He was still going to go and tear into the man for being reckless, after he congratulated him on a prank well played. But, from what the old dog had told him, he had always been that way.

It was getting close to class time when the doors of the Great Hall opened and three people walked in. One was a middle aged woman who wore her graying hair in a bun and had a monocle. Next to her was a man of African descent who was very tall and bald. Next to him was an older light-haired man in a dark blue business suit. They went to the Head Table and talked to the Headmaster, who turned to McGonagall and whispered in her ear. She got up, went around the table and headed straight for Harry.

"The Headmaster request that you meet him in front of his office," she said primly. She was still peeved at the child's behavior since he came back. He had no respect for authority and his mouth was filthy. That and his blasted Muggle references were giving her a headache. Tricorder indeed. "Come, I will show you the way," she added, remembering that he didn't know where to go.

"What, now? I can't finish my breakfast?" Harry asked, putting his fork down and turning his head in her direction. He had no love for this pushy woman. She was the sole reason he was in this castle to begin with.

"Harry," Hermione scolded. She was still mortified when he treated the staff so. He had let her vent this morning, but at the end informed her that her issues with authority were not his, and he would act as he saw fit to each person he met. She could see that he meant every word of that with his actions. Still, she couldn't wrap her mind around disrespecting an adult.

"What? I am eating," he snarled and took a bite of bacon.

"You shouldn't talk to the Professor that way," she said firmly.

"Whatever," he said as he rolled his eyes. This was one issue they were never going to see eye to eye on.

"Make yourself a sandwich and we will be on our way," McGonagall compromised with a sigh. "After all, you were the one who demanded they be brought here," she reminded him through gritted teeth. She still couldn't believe that Albus agreed to the boy's demands.

"Great! the bobbies are here," he said joyously as he threw together a cheesy scrambled egg and bacon sandwich, wrapped it in a napkin and took a long drink of his pumpkin juice and got up from the table. "I'll catch you guys later," he said to the other three.

"Okay, Harry," Neville said with wary eyes. He knew the two of the people that had come in, and was worried that Harry would insult them. He didn't know the old guy, but the other two had known his parents, and his Gran had introduced them to him ages ago. They were alright people, who visited his mum and dad often.

"Do try and listen to what is said," Luna predicted as she took a bite of her hot cereal. Her eyes had a vague look, so Harry nodded and wondered what bit of information she thought he would need to know. So he would heed her words and pick apart what they told him.

"Oh, Harry, just… behave," was Hermione's input.

"Right," he said, giving each a nodded and a mischievous smile. "Lead the way, Professor," he said and suddenly realized this woman had never been introduced to him. He knew from prior conversations that she was a professor, but not of what. Her name was Minerva McGonagall according to his map, but that was all he knew. "Professor, I don't believe we've met. I know you teach, but that is all," he said as they exited the Hall.

"Oh dear, I do believe you are correct. Very well, my name is Professor McGonagall and I am the Deputy Headmistress, the Head of Gryffindor and the Transfiguration Teacher here at Hogwarts," she offered with a tight smile.

They were headed down the hall, and there were students either trying to get to breakfast or running to get their books for class. A lot of them kept pointing in his general direction and whispering things about him. If he heard something he didn't like, he'd flip them the two finger salute behind the Professor's back.

"Right, do all magicals have more than one position, or are you and the old man special?" our hero quipped. He had no idea how someone could hold three professions at once. Did they not sleep, or was there one job that just got shunted to the wayside?

"Show some respect," she snapped, stopping their walk and glaring at the upstart.

"You bloody well kidnapped me off the street, and dragged me here against my will. You've done nothing by keep me prisoner here for the last two days. Where in all that have you earned my respect?" he snarled back, looking up at the irate woman. Oh, yeah, he was still angry at her.

"It was to keep you safe, you foolish child. I could not in good conscience leave you on the street with no memory," she huffed and started down the hall again.

"I was doing just fine on my own," the teen said mulishly.

"You are a very important figure in this world, Mr. Potter. We could not leave you to fate." She sighed again and thought, 'Why couldn't he just understand that he was needed here in the wizarding world? Was it really so hard to comprehend?'

"And all the other children on the street, what will you do for them?" he asked, folding his arms defiantly as he walked beside her. Leaving the whole hero thing alone for now, he really didn't know enough to debate that.

"They are Muggles, there is little I can do to help them," McGonagall said starchily, not understanding where all of this was coming from. Like Albus, butting heads with the new Potter was wearing on her nerves. She did hope the Headmaster was wrong and that he might regain his memory. Then perhaps he would go back to the polite boy he had been.

"What? You can't hand out food to them? You can't set up a clothes bin for them, with warm clothes? You can't put things they might need where they could find them? Right, you can do nothing," he scoffed. His mind was thinking about ways to do all those things he just mentioned. He had enough money to do it. Perhaps, he could do like the Leaky Cauldron did and set up some bins that had wrapped food and clothes.

"The Muggle government does what it can, and we cannot interfere. It is the law," she said with finality, which was mostly true. It was part of the Statute of Secrecy that made it almost impossible to help the Muggle poor.

"Right," was the sarcastic reply as they fell into an uncomfortable silence as they made their way to the Headmaster's office. They turned a corner, Harry's proximity alert went off, and they saw four people waiting for them in front of a gargoyle.

"Harry, my boy, these people are here to see you. We will be holding the meeting in my office," Dumbledore stated jovially, though he was anything but happy about it. He really hated it when the DMLE interfered with Hogwarts. In his mind, he and his staff were more than capable of handling any situation. They did well the last three years, why not now? Besides, he was the Great Albus Dumbledore, and there was very little he could not accomplish unaided.

"Albus, old man, I wouldn't go to your office unless I was tied up and knocked out," Harry returned just as happily, but with a glare that would melt ice. "I see senility has set in, you really should get that checked out. I'm not sure you could hold your many offices, if you can't seem remember a simple conversation from last night," he said, showing a great deal of concern, and peering intently at the old man's face as if to see if he was indeed senile.

McGonagall sighed and rubbed her forehead. The woman, Amelia Bones according to the map, with the monocle just gawped at him for a second the righted herself. The two men, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Albert Waters, looked like they were about to break out laughing, though doing their professional best not to. Dumbledore looked floored that Harry would disrespect him in front of strangers. Then again, everyone was a stranger to the boy.

Harry turned to the other three, dismissing the Hogwarts staff and asked, "You the cops?"

"Auror Shacklebolt and I are with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. This other gentleman is the attorney you asked for, Mr. Waters," the grey-haired lady said, pointing to each person. "I am Madam Bones, and you will address me as such," she said, narrowing her eyes.

"If you call me Mr. Potter, we'll have no issue," Harry said, returning the glare. "Look, I don't want Albus or McGonagall to be there when we talk. My lawyer should be enough," he added, wondering how the man knew to be here. He had no idea who he was, or how he heard, but was thankful for the representation.

"I would like some time alone with my client," Mr. Waters said, picking up his briefcase as he moved to Harry's side. "We need to get to know each other and I need to understand what has happened to him. Is there a place we can speak privately?"

"There are a multitude of unused classrooms, or there are the greeting rooms in the Entrance Hall," Dumbledore sighed, but knew it was out of his hands for now.

"A classroom will do for now," Waters stated, giving them an inquiring look. Minerva led the way to the nearest one and then left. The attorney then cast many privacy spells and instructed the portrait of a green fairy to leave. The little painted being huffed and flew away. "There now we can't be heard," he said as he made his way to the nearest desk.

Harry threw up his own shields, but Waters didn't feel it, pulled a chair to the other side and said, "Nice to meet you, Mr. Waters. How did you know to be here?" he asked as he pulled out his sandwich. "I hope you don't mind, but I was eating when they brought me here."

Waters waved him to go ahead. "Your godfather, Sirius Black, asked that I come today via his house elf. He told me a bit about what is going on, but I need to hear your side. I met Madam Bones and Auror Shacklebolt at the gate and we came up together. Them being here was a welcome surprise to me." It had come as quite a shock being contacted by the fugitive, but he was happy to take a case for the Boy-Who-Lived, his reputation right now notwithstanding. The attorney knew the public was fickle and one day the hero would be seen in a better light. Fudge was an idiot not to see that.

"Good ole Sirius," Harry said with a big smile. "I need assurances that what we say gets back to no one, and I mean, no one, not even Sirius. I'd like to tell you everything, but my experience with adults so far has not left me with a good impression." He took a bite. He was glad he grabbed the napkin, not wanting to be uncivilized as to wipe his mouth with his sleeve, it was bad enough he was eating in front of someone. He remembered his friend's advice and paid very close attention to what the man said. He was unsure if it would pay off in the end, but it never hurt to listen.

"Here is the standard non-disclosure contract. Anything you tell me will be held in the strictest of confidence," Water stated as he pulled a yellow legal pad, a ballpoint pen, and a heavy piece of parchment out of his briefcase.

Harry put down his meal, wiped his hands, took the contract and looked it over very carefully. He saw that what the man had said was true so he signed it. There was a flash of light when the barrister sighed and the contract disappeared.

"It goes to a warded filing cabinet in my office," was the answer to the unspoken question.

"Right, I'm still getting used to magic," Harry said as he waved his hand and made the chairs more comfortable, which got a raised eyebrow. "Well, here is my story so far…" he then proceeded to tell about the last week and left nothing out.

Waters showed great skepticism about the new magic, but held his tongue. It wasn't important to the matter at hand. He asked a few questions, here and there, and wrote most of it down.

Harry went on and on about his treatment so far, and our hero even asked if the guy could do something for Sirius and was met with a 'we'll see' look. When he was done talking, he finished off his breakfast and banished the mess with a wave of his hand.

"Well, this is a fine pickle you've got yourself into," Waters sighed as he jotted down the last of Harry's story on his legal pad. "Not that you've done anything wrong, it's just that all of this will be hard to prove. I mean, you're accusing the Great Albus Dumbledore of mind-rape, but it is in the bylaws that he is allowed to do what he did. Professor McGonagall can state that she was bringing you here for safety reasons. The Weasley boy can claim that he was being a friend and holding your items. As for Snape, well, if we have no proof, and with your memories gone..." he let it trail off there. He was upset that the boy had gone through so much in such a short time, but the laws were not on his side.

"One question, does my name being picked for this contest mean that I am an adult, even if I have no intentions of competing?" Harry asked. He had already known that everything else was a long shot.

"Yes, if you have access to all of your family holdings, then you were claimed by magic as to being of age. The goblins are correct you cannot be forced into a contract against your will. You can be tricked, so be very careful on what you sign, but if you had nothing to do with your name coming out of the Goblet then that contract is null for you. However, the person who entered your name might want to be wary," Waters agreed, making more notes. "I will also remind you that someone could be trying to kill you by adding your name. You would do well to learn to protect yourself."

"I am, I'm learning all I can," Harry agreed, cursing the fact that he hadn't really thought of that. 'Was this what I was supposed to be listening for? It does make sense and I hadn't realized it, not really', he thought. 'I'm going to have to add more security to my mindscape. Oh, maybe some photon torpedoes to shoot from my eyes. That would be cool,' was another notion. "How does me being an adult effect my case?" he asked, still dreaming of shooting people from his eyes. Then again, maybe not something so fatal, unless necessary.

"Well, with you being an adult since Halloween, we can get a restraining order against Albus for preforming mind arts. But, since he didn't know at the time, and you were an injured student, that is the best we can do," he said quickly at the gleam in his client's eyes.

The teen sighed, but nodded that he understood. "I still need to talk to a few people, but if I can get proof that Snape did something to aid my condition, then can we throw the book at him?"

"Oh definitely, that man is a menace to society, and I, for one, would be happy to see him thrown in Azkaban," the lawyer said viciously. His grandson had wanted to be an Auror, but since he had been in Hufflepuff, he got low scores in his potion's exam and was now being groomed to take over the family law firm. Which the boy hated, but had little recourse.

"What about Sirius' case?"

"Right now there is a Kiss on Sight order for him. I can talk to him via his house elf, get his story and hand it over to the authorities, but Fudge can quash it without a problem. He doesn't want to look bad and if the Head of an Ancient and Noble House was falsely accused… that would make him lose face in the eye of the public, even if it wasn't his doing," the lawyer explained as he put his papers together.

"Well damn, I'll let him know and I'll make sure to keep in touch with you via my house elf, Dobby," Harry said, going over in his head how he was going to corner a ghost.

"Very well, let us go and talk to Madam Bones. Just remember she is a good woman and follows the law the best the Ministry will allow her. There are many things that bog down her job. Don't take it out on her what politicians do. The law is not on your side with this," Waters warned, already getting a feel for the boy's hot temper.

"I'll try," was all Harry would agree to.

Waters waved his wand and dispersed the wards, Harry simply thought his away. They left the room and wandered back to the Headmaster's office. No one was in the hallway, and they didn't know the password for Mr. Waters to go and see if they were up there. Harry still refuse to go anywhere the man might be. It was none of his damn business what he said to the cops, or his lawyer.

So Albert shot off a Patronus and ordered it to find Madam Bones, and let her know they were ready for her. The silvery fox flew through the wall on the opposite side of the gargoyle. The two men talked of how to make and use the Patronus, until a silvery cat came up to Mr. Waters and said, "We are in the Great Hall. Please, meet us there."

They went there and saw Bones and Shacklebolt talking to the Slytherin House Ghost. Harry wondered if he was going to tell the whole truth this time as they made their way to the other end of the table. When Madam Bones finished, she came and sat with them, her Auror standing at her back. Harry gave her a much more abbreviated recount of the last week.

When he was done she sighed. "Well, like Mr. Waters I'm sure has already informed you, all of this is going to be hard to prove. You didn't know Mr. Weasley was stealing your things, though we can take him in for questioning. I will warn you that even though they are poor, the pure-blood laws are on their side," she said, taking her eye piece off and rubbing the red area.

"Can't you just scare him straight? There's a program in the States, where they take kids to the prison and have the prisoner frighten them into not committing crimes. I don't know much about it. I only caught the gist from the news, but it might work," Harry asked, not really liking this world very much and once again thought maybe he was just wasting his time here. Then he remembered what Sirius said and internally pouted.

"You don't know much about Azkaban do you?" she inquired with a raised eyebrow.

"No, ma'am, I know very little about this world," he admitted. "Only what my friends have told me since I got back."

"There are creatures, demons really, that guard the island. They suck every bit of happiness out of you, leaving you with only your worse memories, and if you're condemned they will take your soul. Do you really want to put young Mr. Weasley through something so horrific?" Amelia asked, hoping that he wasn't that Dark. Albus had warned her that this boy was not the boy hero they knew before. He was much more argumentative and callous.

"No, I guess not, but there has to be something you can do. From what I know of the rest of the Weasley family, I don't want the parents punished for the sins of the child. The twins said that if I died, or was never found, he was going to keep my stuff. That cloak, from what I'm told, has been in my family for hundreds of years. There has to be something in the laws about family heirlooms," Harry said firmly, thinking that if the Aurors didn't do anything, then he was going to take it into his own hands. With his grasp on magic, illusions shouldn't be too hard.

"I can try and impress on how wrong stealing is. But, the only other recourse is to fine his parents," she stated, writing a few ideas down on her pad.

"Right," Harry said, folding his arms and slouching in his seat. Here was one more adult that can't do anything.

"Mr. Potter, I would like nothing better than to throw the book at him, but my hands are tied with the pure-blood laws," she said, looking at the sulking child.

"I know, I'm sorry, it's just that I can't seem to catch a break," Harry said, sitting up and rubbing his hand over his weary face. Then he perked up. "Hey, what about the whole Boy-Who-Lived thing, or the fact that one of my friends says that the Potters were a very influential family, don't those count?" he asked, hoping that it made some difference.

"You have not been reading the papers, have you?" she waited until he shook his head. "Right now you are considered a glory hound and a cheat. Your fame will do you no good. Had your father not married a Muggleborn, then you would be able to use your family name. But, as it is you are a half-blood, and have very little pull in the Ministry," she stated with another sigh. Fudge had made that very clear when she informed him that she was coming here. It was only the fact that he was the Boy-Who-Lived and a Potter that all of this wasn't buried.

"Well, fuck," Harry said, once more slouching down.

"Watch your tongue, young man," she snapped as his lawyer nudged him with an elbow.

"Sorry."

"I will investigate all of this, including the part about Mr. Black, and get back to you on what I find. However, don't get your hopes up that much will be done," she said as she gathered her notes. "Perhaps some of this will put you in a better light with the public, and then you can use your pull. But for now…" she trailed off with a great deal of frustration lacing her tone. She gave him and small smile, which didn't give him much hope, and with that she and Shacklebolt left the room.

"Don't worry, Harry, I'll do some digging on my own. Politics is a cutthroat game, which I play very well. I'll make sure something is done. I know we can get a restraining order on Dumbledore, and I'll try to get one on the Weasley kid," Waters stated, giving the boy a pat on the arm and the getting his stuff together. "It is what you hired me for, after all."

"We never did discuss fees," Harry said, picking at the table.

"Your godfather is paying. He is the adult," Waters said, waving it away and getting up from the table. "I'll see myself out. Do try and stay out of trouble." And he left, leaving Harry all alone in the room.

"Right, trouble," the dark-haired amnesiac said as a wicked smile came across his face.