Disclaimer: I do not claim to own Harry Potter nor his universe in any way, shape, or form. I'm simply borrowing the chap and his friends. The same goes for Lord of the Rings, The Matrix and Armor Hotdogs…pretty much anything in here. It's all disclaimed. I disclaim myself!

A/N: A short conversation with my muse before the story begins…

Dobby: Dobby poofs into the room Miss Author, why have you called Dobby?

Frontsky: Dobby, do you know about the Matrix?

Dobby: Dobby blinks The Matrix? No, Dobby doesn't know about the Matrix. Will Miss Author tell Dobby?

Frontsky: Dobby, The Matrix is the festival of lights. Instead of one made-up war, we get eight crazy fights.

Dobby: Dobby is wondering whether or not it would be a good idea to 'poop' away Eight crazy fights? Dobby doesn't know about eight crazy fights, Miss Author. Dobby just knows about the one fight with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

Frontsky: Oh, yeah, HIM. Well, Dobby, those Eight Crazy Fights are about a time when there wasn't a single drop of Crisco left and we needed to make pancakes, so we fought eight times with one another until we realized Crisco is lard.

Dobby: Dobby backs away slowly and prepares to 'poot' Dobby has no idea what Miss Author is talking about.

Frontsky: Ah, Dobby, it's time once again for the story to begin. Take your seats, please, as we'll have to worry about Crisco causing heart attacks much later.

Dobby: Dobby steps forward But, Miss Author, you still haven't paid Dobby his fee for being in your fanfic. Dobby has many other duties to attend to for Mr. Harry Potter, so Dobby needs a reason to stay. Dobby holds out his hands, looking surprisingly unsubmissive for a house elf

Frontsky: Ah, yes, Dobby, here's your payment. Hands Dobby unfolded socks And enjoy.

Dobby: Ah, thank you Miss Author. Dobby bows and poogs away

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The day was clear, blue; one could even call it easy. The sun, high in the sky in the peak of the afternoon, shone brightly on the students of Hogwarts as they watched the quidditch match between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff reach an all new record for the most boring game ever. The golden snitch was no where in sight, the beaters were missing every time they hit a bludger someone's way, and not one goal had been scored yet in this already three hour match, simply because everyone knows that only games in which Gryffindor or Slytherin took part in were any good anyways. Dobby the house elf watched this mundane display of athleticism through the windows of the astronomy tower as he played with his vast collection of socks. He had big socks, little socks, socks who climbed on rocks. Fat socks, skinny socks, even socks with chicken pox, were apart of his amazing collection.

"One, two, three…a three," Dobby said, as he counted his socks. Suddenly, he noticed something to be quite out of place. He counted again, and again, only to come up with the same number he had before; Dobby's sock was missing. "There's one missing, there is. We don't like missing socks, no. Where are you, my precious? Where are you hiding?"

The little house elf gathered his sock collection in his arms and made his way out of the tower, back to the Gryffindor common room in search of his beloved sock. One may assume that this sock was simply an ordinary sock, like all socks are, but one is a complete idiot, as this is never the case. No, this sock was special.

Long ago in the days of cold feet, twenty socks were created. Three socks for the elven-kings under the sky, seven for the dwarf-lords in their halls of stone, nine for the muggle men doomed to die, one for the dark Lord Voldemort on his dark throne in the land of Angles where the shadows lie. One sock to rule them all, one sock to find them, one sock to bring them all and in the darkness bind them, in the land of Angles where the shadows lie.

Dobby knew what to do: he had to summon the helpers from the mysterious land. Only they had the power to find the sock. It required many spells, most of which were found in the restricted section of the Library, which, as everyone knows, can be broken into by anyone at any time, so long as they have cloaks. So, Dobby went about thinking how he could steal the best cloak of the school: the cloak of Maria Surez, this year's new transfer student from the U.S.

Maria was a normal girl. She was the daughter of Aurora Borealis-Surez and Juan Surez, who were both murdered by the Dark Lord Voldemort, when she was but a mere baby. Sent to live with her Muggle relatives, who knew nothing of the magic-world, she lived in the United States and at the age of eleven attended America's top wizarding school, Bubblebrains' Brilliant School for the Bulbously Bright. However, as Maria excelled immediately in all of her subjects, especially Wandless Magic, she had to be sent away.

Immediately, once learning of her skill, Maria's professors and the headmaster of Bubblebrains, Yoda the Masgnificent, decided to transfer her to the most prestigious wizarding school in all the world: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.