The Southern Fried Harry Potter

Chapter 4



I'd ask that you please see my notes at the end of this chapter! Thanks!



And now…on with our story:



Harry had a fantastic dream. He dreamt a giant named Hack came to take him away, to reveal that he was a wizard and was being taken to a wizard's school. He was going to leave the Dursleys, and go to the same school his real parents had, and he was famous.

He was waking up, he realized, but he didn't want to open his eyes. He did not want the dream to end. Through his eyelids he could tell the sun was up, but he was refusing to confirm it with his own eyes. He heard a rapping noise, that would be Aunt Daisy banging on his door trying to get him to wake up. The rapping continued unabated until finally Harry relented, "Alright, alright, I'm getting up" he said.

Harry opened his eyes and got up, to find Hacks old army field jacket had been covering him. He remembered going to sleep last night and Hack had offered his jacket to use as a blanket. Harry looked over at the nearest hay bale, and saw Hack had almost flattened it from sleeping on it. Dirk had moved towards the back of the barn, no doubt along with Uncle Vern and Aunt Daisy who wanted nothing more to do with Hack, and were more than ready to do the same with Harry.

The rapping had stopped when he arose, and a barn owl swooped down and dropped a newspaper on Hack, then landed at Harry's feet. It went straight after Hacks jacket, tugging and pulling at it with its beak.

"Hey now, don't do that, you'll tear it" admonished Harry. As he reached to rescue the jacket, the owl took a snap at his outstretched hand. Harry exclaimed in surprise. Hack stirred a little, so Harry said "Hey Hack, this owl is tearing up your jacket!"

"He wants to be paid" muttered Hack.

"What??" asked Harry, not believing what he heard.

"He wants payment for delivering the paper. Reach in there get out 5 knuts and give them to him" said Hack, as he rolled over.

"Five what?" asked Harry.

Hack sighed, audibly and visibly. "Five of the little bronze things."

Harry got into a pocket without interference from the owl, and found some bronze and silver things. He counted out five of the bronze ones and found the owl was holding his left leg out, and there was a pouch attached to it. Harry put the bronze things in the pouch and the owl took off.

Hack had risen, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and yawning. "We got a lot to do today Harry, got to get to the metroplex and get all yer stuff for Hogwarts."

Inexplicably, this had escaped Harry's mind. He began to worry a bit, and finally said "Um, Hack? I don't have any money. And you heard Uncle Vern, he's not going to pay for any of that stuff…"

Hack gave him a reassuring look. "Don't worry about that. We haven't even talked about yer inheritance yet. Did you think yer parents left ya with nuthin'?" Hack chuckled.

"But, if their house was destroyed, how did they leave me anything?" asked Harry.

"They didn't keep their gold all in their house, boy!" said Hack. "It's in a bank, just waiting for you. In fact our first stop is gonna be Gringo's Bank. That's the wizard bank."

Hack dug out around his pockets. "Have a sausage. They're not too bad cold, and let's see if we can't get a bit of the birthday cake."

"Wizards have banks?" asked Harry.

"Just the one. Gringo's bank. Run by Goblins" said Hack.

Harry stopped mid-sausage. "Goblins?!?" asked Harry.

"Yep. So you'd be plumb loco to try and rob it, I tell ya that much. Never mess with Goblins, Harry. Gringo's is the safest place to keep anything, anything at all. Except maybe fer Hogwarts. As a matter of fact I have to go there anyway, on Hogwarts business." Hack drew himself and almost swelled with importance and pride. "Dumbledore usually asks me to do handle important Hogwarts business. Fetchin' you, going to Gringo's, stuff like that. You got all yer stuff? Ready to go?"

They stepped outside of the barn. The rainstorm had long ago stopped, the sun was out, the fragrance of the field reached their nostril, and the ground was still a bit soft under their feet. The car the Hack had apparently arrived in was next to Uncle Vern's truck. Harry recognized it as an old El Camino, and he knew they weren't made anymore. The back was still full of water, though.

"You drove here in that?" asked Harry.

"Well, I, uh, I got here in that, but I didn't exactly drive" stammered Hack. "I flew. The field was too muddy. But now that I've fetched ya, I'm not supposed to use any magic. Well, I'm not supposed to use any magic at all anyway, especially not out in the muggle world. But I had permission to use some to find ya, get ya yer letters, stuff like that."

They got in the car. Harry was still trying to imagine the car flying. Hack spoke up "Um, the field is still a bit muddy, we could be all day trying to get this heap out of here." Hack was giving Harry one of his sideways glances. "Seems a shame to waste all that time. If I were to, ah, help things along a little bit, would ya mind not sayin' anythin' at Hogwarts about it?"

"Of course not!" said Harry. He was anxious to see more magic at work.

They got far enough to get back on the road, and Hack drove to the nearest Greyhound Bus station. They road the mostly empty bus into downtown Dallas. Hack read his paper, "The Daily Prophet" en route. Harry had learned from Uncle Vern that most people prefer to be left alone while they do this, but Harry was just brimming with questions to ask.

"Hmph" grumbled Hack, "Department of Magic screwing things up as usual."

"There's a Department of Magic?" asked Harry.

"Sure is" said Hack.

"What do they do?" asked Harry

"Well, mostly they try to keep our entire existence from the Muggles" said Hack. "They wanted Dumbledore to their Secretary, but of course he wasn't going to leave Hogwarts. So Fudge got the job. Bugs Dumbledore everyday with owls pestering him with questions."

"Why don't they want to be known?" asked Harry

"Why?!?" Hack laughed. "Because then everybody'd be wantin' magical solutions to their everyday problems. Nah, best we remain a secret.

Before long they pulled into the bus terminal smack in downtown Dallas and made their way outside. Hack drew a lot of attention to himself just because he was so big.

"Why would someone be 'loco' to try and rob Gringo's?" asked Harry

"Oh, there's a number of reasons" said Hack. "Spells, wards, tunnels…Gringo's vault goes miles underneath, into the earth…there's also supposed to be dragons guarding the place, or so they say. Man, I always wanted a dragon."

"You'd want one?" asked Harry, incredulously.

"Ever since I was kid I wanted one. Ah, here we go" said Hack, who had managed to flag down a trolling taxi. "Corner of Elm and Crowdus, if ya please" he told the driver. Hack looked at Harry and said "Smack in the middle of Deep Ellum" and winked.

A short drive west on Main and they were there. Harry had to help Hack pay the driver, as Hack just couldn't figure out 'muggle money' very easily. When all was settled up, Harry found himself in a very colorful street.

"Still got yer letter Harry?" Hack asked.

Harry produced the parchment envelope. "Good" said Hack. "Inside is a list of everything we're gonna need."

Harry unfolded a second piece of paper he hadn't noticed before, and read the list. It included items such as robes, hats, gloves, cloaks, specific books, a wand, a cauldron, a set of phials, telescope, and a set of scales. It also mentioned students could bring an animal off of a very short list: either a cat, an owl, or a toad. There was also a reminder that first year students were not allowed their own broomsticks.

"Can we get all this stuff in Dallas?" asked Harry.

"Ya can if ya know where to get it" replied Hack.

Harry had never been to a big city before. Although Hack seemed to know where he wanted to be, he obviously wasn't used to getting there by 'conventional' means. Just fitting him into the back seat of the taxi cab was an incredible display of physics. "I don't know how muggles manage without magic" said Hack, as they started to walk down the street. Hack was so big, what other foot traffic they ran across made plenty of room for him, and all Harry had to do was follow along. They passed book stores, art galleries, hair salons, tatoo parlors, restaurants and night clubs. None of these places looked like where you'd go to buy a magic wand. This was a somewhat ordinary street that was part of the city's nightlife. Could there really be piles of wizard gold buries miles beneath them? Were there really shops that sold broomsticks to ride, spellbooks (real ones) and spell components? Could this all be just one big joke the Dursleys had come up with? Harry dismissed that idea quickly, knowing the Dursleys didn't have much of a sense of humor, and what they did have seemed mostly limited to people hitting each other in amusing ways.

"Here we are" said Hack, coming to a halt in front of a place that seemed to be a bit 'off the beaten track.' "The Cracked Kettle"…it's a famous place Harry."

It was tiny, grubby looking place that Harry thought must be what people often described as a 'dive.' If Hack hadn't pointed it out, Harry wouldn't have even noticed the place. What few people walked by certainly seemed to give it no notice whatsoever. Their glances seemed to skip from the bookstore on one side to the music store on the other. Harry got the distinct impression that he and Hack were the only ones who could see it.

Before Harry could say anything, Hack had steered him inside.

It took a few moments for Harry's eyes to adjust to the dark. He could make out dim lamps that were probably perched on tables throughout the place, and there was a bar that was the best lit spot in the place, and it was still somewhat dark.

As they moved further into the place, Harry began to see better, and noticed that just about everybody who turned to look at them seemed to recognize Hack. The man behind the bar looked up at them, grabbed a glass and said "Th' usual, Hack?"

"Cain't, Tom, I'm workin'…" said Hack. "I'm on Hogwarts bizness today."

The man behind the bar stopped at that, looked at Harry again, and said "You mean…. Oh my. Oh my… welcome to The Kettle, Harry. Bless my stars I never thought this day would come!"

Others in the establishment were taking notice now, everyone at the bar had turned to look at Harry, and from what he could tell most of the people at tables and booths were doing the same. Quickly, people left their seats, came up to him and introduced themselves. They all seemed very excited to meet Harry, seemed to know a lot about him. One older woman came around a few times to shake his hand and say howdy.

"Harry" interrupted Hack, "I'd like you t' meet Perfessor Quirrel, he'll be one of yer instructors at Hogwarts."

"P-p-p-p-pleased to m-m-m-make your acquaintance, P-p-p-p-otter. I teach 'Defense Against the D-d-dark Arts'…not that you'll have m-much u-use for my class, eh?!?" he quipped, nervously.

But the rest of the crowd wasn't going to let the venerable Professor to have much time with Harry, and they all kept introducing themselves, clapping him on the back, and everyone seemed very pleased to meet him.

Before too long, Hack cleared his throat loudly and announced "Well, can't hang around here all day, we got stuff to do!" and Hack led Harry towards the back of the club, and out a back door. There, they were in a small courtyard surrounded by a brick wall. Hack was staring at the wall intently. "I always think I can remember which brick it is, but I end up always having to count." Hack apparently found the brick he liked, tapped it three times with his pink umbrella, and the wall started to move out of the way to reveal a bustling row of shops.

"Welcome to Diagon Alley."

"Diagon Alley?" Harry asked. "Wouldn't it be called Dallas Alley?"

"Nope, that's a muggle place over in the West End. This is where we're going to get all your school supplies. But first, we need to visit Gringo's. Let's go."









Notes:

My Connundrum. Until now I have not had to be specific about where exactly all this was taking place. But now, I have to. We've reached the point in the story where Hack (Hagrid) has to take Harry to a city where Diagon Alley (or whatever southern version I might come up with) is located.

Instead of making up something completely fictitious, which wouldn't be hard by combining tidbits from different cities I've visited, would rather defeat the purpose of the story line I've started. So I've decided it needs to be a real city.

With that in mind, it's best I write about something I know. So far as 'the south' is concerned I've visited Atlanta, Tampa, Memphis, New Orleans, Shreveport, Austin, San Antonio, Houston. New Orleans might seem the first, best choice given its history with Voodoo, but for that same reason I thought that would just not work.

And while I know things about those other cities, I don't know as much about them as I do about the Dallas/Fort Worth area, so that's where they're going. I know the cities well enough not to do a disservice to either of them, Texas can still be counted as 'the south' and even afford me the luxury of tossing in some of 'the west' elements as well, just for spice!

Also, when I made my fortunate mistype and came up with "Gringo's Bank" the immediate idea struck me to make all the Goblins speak with a Mexican accent. Would have been fun, but, upon a moment's reflection it just doesn't work. See, the term 'Gringo' is what the Mexicans use to describe your basic non-Spanish speaking caucasian. They may use it in a broader reference but that one seems to be most popular. Being so, why would any enterprise run created and run by a group of Mexicans have 'gringo' in their name at all? So I'm gonna give'em Boston accents instead! (remember, the only difference between a Yankee and a Damned Yankee is Damned Yankees are the ones who have stayed here…)

And I have apparently been lacking some kind of disclaimer: this is a fanciful adaptation of an existing work (the Harry Potter series) copyrighted by J.K. Rowling. I have not received permission from the author nor publisher for this sort of work, nor have I sought any. This is not published for any kind of profit, only for fun and enjoyment.

Speaking of 'the south'…So far as my depiction of those from 'the south' you can read the reviews for yourself. Suffice it to say, not everybody talks like what I've depicted. We're not all a bunch of Jeff Foxworthy's and Slim Pickens'. But, writing about characters without an exaggerated Southern flavor just wouldn't be as much fun, would it? Besides, by the time we get little Harry to Hogwarts he'll have a lot of different influences to experience, so just hold yer horses!

As always, good or bad I welcome all constructive input. If you have any questions about anything, or even suggestions, I'd be happy to hear from you.

Definitions:

"Howdy" – a well known greeting from the South, it comes from "How do you do" as a greeting. You'll also hear 'howdy-do' sometimes but everyone who has ever seen any kind of western knows 'howdy!'

El Camino – an automobile built by Cheverolet from the later 50's into the mid 80's, Half-car, half pickup truck, and not much of either! Picture a car, from the front end to just behind the drivers seat, and a pickup truck style 'bed' behind it, except it was low like a car. There were other versions, both by GM and Ford, but since the mid-80's they have not been in production.

Plumb loco – really stupid

Fetchin' – well, 'fetching' actually, to go and get something.