A/N: As was highly requested, welcome to the first of what may become a series! Harry Potter as a five-year-old is based on my own little sibling of that age. Enjoy!

Chapter 1

"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness."

(Somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic, five years, two weeks and three days before The Sorting)

At least the box had holes through which to breathe.

It was this positive thought, strange though it might seem, which was the primary sentiment of a five-year-old Harry Potter, whose box bobbed up and down in what he could only assume — given the salty air blowing through the aforementioned four holes — was a ship of some kind.

It took but a couple moments of a pounding headache, and the memory of being shoved harshly and headfirst by a furious Uncle Vernon into the box, to remember the reason it was his new home.

What exactly had been the last straw, Harry himself couldn't say. He was sure there were a variety of ways in which he could have attracted the ire of his extended family, but which straw itself had broken the walrus' back he had no clue.

Harry, however, was a pragmatic young fellow. Whatever the reason for the past might have been, it had passed, and that was all that mattered.

Well, that and maybe getting out of the box.

Unlikely though it might be, he was startled to hear a voice — a very American voice — next to him, outside of the box.

"Progress report."

A second voice replied. "It's in some sort of code, Skipper, I can't make it out."

The first voice called out to some unknown third party: "You! Higher mammal — can you read?"

Higher mammal?

A third voice, this one very clearly British, answered from what seemed a little more in front of Harry. "No, Phil can read though. Phil!"

There was a clattering of cans, and then some muffled movement, and the third voice spoke up again. "Ship… to… Kenya… wildlife preserve… AFRICA!"

"Africa!?" Said the first voice. "That ain't gonna fly. Rico!"

A hacking sound came and then a jingling. But at that very moment, the ship bobbled on a massive wave, and the sound of something metal hitting the deck clanged out.

"Dag-nabbit, Rico! That was our last lockpick, you only swallowed two last week!"

Harry peeked out through one of his breathing holes, only to see another box blocking his vision. His curiosity devoured him, and he wished above all else to be out of the box.

To his surprise, that was exactly what happened. In an instant, he was standing outside of what had been his prison just a moment ago. He paused for a moment to consider the strangeness of this event, but the sound of the first voice yelling at "Rico" shook him out of his reverie, and he scooted between a few boxes to get out of the stack, before turning to the location of the voices.

Whatever he had been expecting, it hadn't been three penguins sticking their heads out of circular holes in their box, avidly discussing what to do next.

"Er- Hi-" began Harry, and the penguins froze; "-do you need help?"

"I'll handle this," muttered one of the penguins, whom Harry could tell was voice one. "HeLLO, TINY PRIMATE!" He said loudly and slowly, waving his flippers around, speaking to Harry as if Harry was a child (he was), or stupid. "You're having a DREAM! No need to EVER tell ANYONE about this, OKAY?"

"I know I'm not dreaming, 'cause Uncle Vernon hit me on the head and put me in the box, and then I was awake but still in the box. I'm five, not stupid."

The penguin paused to consider. "Your Uncle sounds like a real scumbucket, kid, but nothing we can do about that. We're trying to get out of this box, but we can't pick the lock because Rico over here," he said snidely, "is a real butterflippers."

Rico hung his head in shame.

Harry looked at the box, and then at the penguin. "Um, you guys are smaller than the holes? Maybe you can just get out by going out the holes?"

"He's got a point, Skipper," said the penguin who was clearly voice two.

"Shush, Kowalski. Classic primate-evolved bipeds, always trying to find the easy way out. Plus, Private's too chubby to fit."

"Maybe one of you could get out through the holes and unlock the box that way?" Offered Harry in the way of a solution. "Or I could just give you back the metal thing."

"Just give us the lockpick, primate, and maybe Rico won't drop it this time."

"I'm not a primate," Harry huffed. "I'm a human. But I'll help."

Harry handed the little metal clasp on the ground and handed it to "Rico" with an encouraging smile. Rico made short work of the lock this time, and the three penguins kicked the box open. Skipper smacked a fourth penguin — whom Harry assumed was Private — who was snoring gently in the corner, and Private woke with a little screech before jumping into a salute. "Aye-aye, Skipper, Private reporting for duty!"

"Private, I have an essential task for you!"

The chubby penguin's eyes glistened. "Yes sir!" He squeaked. "What is it, sir?"

"Make that funny face you always make! I need some cheering up!"

A flash of disappointment came across Private's face for a split second, before stiffening up his face into what Harry had to admit was a pretty funny look.

"Ah, that never gets old," said Skipper, wiping a tear from his face, and turning to Harry. "Anyway, thanks for the help, tiny human. We're going to go turn this ship around! We've got places to be!"

Harry turned to look at the box where he supposed voice three had come from, and was not shocked to discover it was yet another animal, a chimpanzee this time. "Hullo!" Said Harry.

"Well met, old chap," replied the chimpanzee, "how goes it?"

"Do you want to get out too?"

"No, I'm quite alright. I really don't care what happens to me, as long as I have fun, and I'm sure the penguins will handle things well enough. Much appreciated though-"

"Harry," said Harry, sticking his hand out like his teacher in primary school said was polite.

"Mason," replied the chimpanzee, shaking the proffered hand, before kicking an inert shape on the floor. "This old sleeping drunkard is Phil."

"Pleasure to meet you," said Harry. "But I think I should maybe go with the penguins," he added hastily, watching as the penguins began to waddle away, only Private hanging back.

"Go on, little chap," said the chimpanzee, waving him on. "Have fun."

— 0 —

Harry had never before seen a penguin try to drive a boat. Granted, there were a lot of things Harry hadn't seen, given the fact that he was five and had spent the vast majority of those years cleaning the house or locked in the closet. Harry was nevertheless fairly certain this would have been a novel sight regardless of whether or not his childhood had been what it was.

The penguin spun the wheel, and the ship groaned as it began to turn slowly, nose angled uncomfortably as it changed direction. A series of large objects crashed as they fell into the wall behind Harry, who started and turned to look at the wreckage. For a moment, he could have sworn he heard a scream and a splash somewhere on the ship, but the moment passed.

"Hey, kid!" Came Skipper's voice from the wheel. "How's it going? We're turning this baby around, heading back to Antartica!

"Sir, can you take me home first, sir?" Asked Harry, hesitantly, saluting as he had seen the army characters in the movies on Dudley's telly do.

"Back to the guys who put you in the box, kid?"

"Sir, they're all I have, sir."

Skipper stopped, and after a few moments of consideration, sighed. He looked over at Kowalski. "Change of plans, Kowalski."

"Are we taking the child back to his family, sir?"

"Negative, Kowalski. We're taking him to meet Johnny."

Kowalski's voice caught in his throat, and Harry stood there, confused, as he stuttered: "B- But Skipper, Johnny is-"

"A scary son of a gun — pun intended — but he owes me a favor."

Skipper motioned for the rest of his crew, and they gathered together in a circle, whispering in hushed tones and occasionally looking over at Harry.

"Alrighty, Brit! We're taking ya to meet a good friend of ours, he's gonna take you in."

Harry rubbed his hands on his legs, which were shaking. "Sir, why can't you take me back to my family, sir? Uncle Vernon will be really mad if I don't get back soon."

"Listen, kid! I may be a penguin, but I'm a blue-blooded American patriot before all else! I don't care if you're a Brit, in America we believe in this little thing called the Constitution, which tells us we have the right to life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness. Seems to me and the crew here that you haven't had much of a life, no liberty, and sure as tarnation no happiness. It's our duty as loyal American citizens to get you a shot at those things."

When Harry felt tears going down his face, he realized that for the first time ever, they were happy ones.

"Stop that!" Said Skipper. "No crying on the field, soldier!"

Five-year-old Harry Potter, who was just barely taller than the penguins, saluted Skipper. "Aye-aye, sir."

A/N: My thanks to callmenothing for being my beta for this chapter!