Yeah, sorry about the long wait. Vacationing took a lot out of me.

And someone (sorry, my internet is being whack and I can't find your username) reviewed saying that my writing is crappy. (I know you said it nicer, I'm making you sound like a jerk.) I know I'm not an amazing writer. My character development sucks. But I am trying. If someone ever wanted to rewrite any of my stuff and develop it more, go right ahead. As long as I'm given credit, I'm fine with copy cats.

"I expect lots of letters. And phonecalls. And video chats," sniffed Sarah, hugging her brother tight. "Don't let anyone take you away."

"I won't." Harry hugged back hard. "I'll be home at Christmas."

"Four months is too long."

"I know."

And with one more squeeze, Sarah stepped away.

Harry looked around at the terminal. Since Britain was an off limits area for most of the rest of the magical world, he would be traveling by muggle means to reach his destination. Even if there was an option for magical transport, he would've taken the muggle. In the magical world, he tended to be pulled over by people wanting his picture, and autograph, to shake hands... Being one of three child genius inventors of TecnoMagic had its perks (mainly the money), but it also had downsides. Downsides that were everywhere but in Britain, at least until they recognized him as Harry Potter. To sidestep that one for as long as possible, Sirius had suggested that Harry go by his middle names, to which Harry immediately agreed.

He hated goodbyes. So when he caught wind of a party, Harry convinced his dad to just let Sarah (who was 16 and licensed for both cars and apparation) drive him to the airport early and alone. That's how he ended up here, in a terminal, with shrunken baggage and an underage European magic and apparation licence, both of which were obtained with a couple of name drops and a hinted prophecy. His baggage contained a few outfits, but his uniforms would have to come from magical England. There was also an entire tracking map of Hogwarts, courtesy of his dogfather, a bunch of TecnoMagic adapted iPhones (for future friends, of course) and an invisibility cloak, courtesy of Harry himself, and a timeturner for emergency use, courtesy of the ADM.

"I won't let England change me," swore Harry, looking into the eyes of his best friend and sibling. "Unless I get an accent. I won't object to that."

Sarah stepped forward and aimed a half hearted punch at his shoulder

Just then, the speakers came on. "All those in boarding group A, please bring your boarding passes up to the flight desk. All in group A."

He looked one more time at his sister, committing her messy strawberry blonde hair and the lip biting habit (picked up from Bella) to memory, before turning away and heading for the plane that would take him to from his own country and off to Hogwarts.

The vaulted ceiling in the entrance hall of Hogwarts towered high above Harry's head as he took his first steps in the halls his biological parents once walked. The grey stones and flickering light from the torches cast an eerie aura to the castle, and Harry felt as if he was being watched. The feeling grew as he continued up several sets of stairs and long halls, up until he reach the previously described stone gargoyle.

"Uh..." Harry dug into the purple backpack he carried. With a cry of triumph, he yanked out a small slip of paper. "Blood- wait, blood pops?" Despite the incredulous tone to his voice, the gargoyle leapt aside and stairs started escalating. "Okay..." He carefully stepped onto the stone steps and grabbed at the wall as he started ascending. Once he reached the wooden door at the top, the stairs stopped. Hesitantly, he reached out to knock, but the door swung open underneath his hand.

"Come in," came the all too familiar voice.

Step by step, Harry made his way into the office. Dumbledore was sitting behind the desk, his eyes twinkling behind half-moon glasses. In front of the desk stood a man with long dark hair and an intimidating presence. As Harry came to a stop in front of the desk, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as he felt the icy gaze of the man in black rest on him.

"And who," asked the man, inserting a pause, "are you?"

Harry turned to meet his gaze. "Luke Swan," he replied cheerily, sticking his hand out for a shake. When all the slightly oily man did was stare, Harry retracted the hand. "New American transfer student. Who're you?"

"This, Luke, is Hogwarts very own Potions Master, Severus Snape. He'll be helping you with your shopping." The Professor then popped a hard candy into his mouth and smiled. Snape began to look irritated, and Harry wondered if he was even warned. "Let's get on with what you're here for, perhaps?"

"Sorting. Right." He looked around the office, searching for the long coveted enchanted object. "Do you keep the Hat here?"

The old man raised his hand, and into it flew the Hat. Harry almost started drooling at the sight. What I wouldn't give for a few minutes of examination... It was a well known fact among his friends and family that one of Harry's new hobbies/obsessions was enchantments, and the possibility of examining one of the most renown enchanted objects was his dream. So when Dumbledore handed the Hat to him, Harry didn't hesitate when cramming it onto his head.

Almost immediately he felt the probe invading his thoughts. Why, hello, Mr. Swan. Or should I say, Mr. Potter?

Harry grinned. Hello to you too, Hat. Pleasure to be in your presence.

The Hat chuckled. I can see that Hogwarts will be blessed to have you around this term, Mr. Potter.

When the Founders first decided-

Slow down! The Hat laughed again, and Harry wasn't sure if it was in his head or out of it. We must decide in which House to place you first. Now, I can see much ambition in you, a desire to reach your goals...

Yes, countered Harry, knowing exactly where the Hat was going, but the current political climate there is unhealthy, and it wouldn't work for me at all. The answer there is no. Next, please.

The Hat sighed. I saw that coming, but I still had to try. Oh well. There's really only one other choice for you, then, but first... Harry felt knowledge flood his brain, and his lips formed a slow grin. There. Now I expect your questions are answered? Very well. You belong in-

"Ravenclaw!"

Review, it fuels the ever hungry muse.

~Wryder