Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shewn, that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed.

(Hogwarts, six months before The Sorting.)

"What, precisely, dae ye mean, ye 'don't ken whaur Harry Potter is'?"

The natural Scottish brogue of Minerva McGonagall had grown more pronounced than Dumbledore had ever heard before (beyond, possibly, that one time she had broken up with Marcus Belfont in the middle of transfiguration class; she had apparently caught the unfortunate and obviously rather braindead young adulterer sending love notes to one Emily Plonsky, who was in that very same class and seated directly next to the young Minerva).

"Well, you see, I left him with his family, you know, and he's simply not there. None of my tools which aid my identifying his location have been of any particular use, either."

"Albus, ye eejit, hae ye considered th' possibility that ye shuid hae mibbie checked in oan th' wee bairn?"

"Well, you see, I had. But then things kept popping up, and the tools got knocked over in one of my LARPing D&D sessions in the study, and I forgot to get them fixed, so I kind of just assumed he'd be doing fine…"

"YOU JUIST ASSUMMED TH' LADDIE OAN WHAM TH' FATE O' TH' WIZARDING WORLD RELIES WID 'BE DAEIN' FINE'!?"

"I've been so busy, my dear, I simply hadn't-"

The sound of a resounding smack sounded in the room, and the witch marched away, huffing angrily.

"What a woman she is," commented Dumbledore admiringly to Fawkes. "Maybe I should attempt to set her up with Aberforth. They both share a certain distaste for my foolishness, alack."

He turned, looking above, directly at the literary camera pointing down at him. "Well, hello there, dear reader. I'm afraid you've seen me just get quite the stern talking to from our very own Deputy Headmistress McGonagall. I quite deserve it, of course. For you see, I was a little too invested in our roleplaying session all those years ago. As it so happens, my Gnomish Enchanter had just rolled a nat twenty on a fireball to finish off a campaign boss. I was — as I hope you might understand — very happy about such a thing, and in such happiness forgot that I am not a gnome destroying a demon lord, but rather an elderly man accidentally knocking over a table. Now, someone else pushed the table over, so I must say I can't take all the blame for such a- pah, well, I'm getting carried away. The point is, I may have destroyed my devices for watching over the Boy-Who-Lived, and then forgotten to get them fixed. I am glad you're here, however, as-"

The paintings in the office all stared as the great Albus Dumbledore appeared to engage in a rant towards what seemed to be the right ceiling corner of his office.

"I knew Albus was a little unsteady-" began Armando Dippet, whispering to his neighbor.

"-But it appears he's gone completely off the rails, this time," replied the other. "Oh well, it was bound to happen eventually, with all that marijuana he smokes. I blame you for introducing him to The Lord Of The Rings franchise. Bloody Gandalf and his bloody pipe…"

— 0 —

(Hogwarts Board Of Directors Lounge, one day before The Sorting)

"This meeting of the board of directors will come to order!" The silky, smooth voice of Lucius Malfoy resounded in the chamber as his small gavel hammered down repeatedly.

"We heard you already, Lucius, there's absolutely no need to keep banging the blasted thing," came from an imposing woman with a strange hat upon her head, and handbag by her seat; "-besides, none of us were making any noise."

Lucius flushed. "I, er, yes. I just like using the- AHEM, never mind all that! Recent investigation by the Ministry of Magic has revealed that an incredible amount of petroleum and oil has been located under Hogwarts land. And despite its clear use in the muggle world," he said sneering, "it has been decided that the income that might be obtained from such a substance would be highly beneficial to… the nation."

"Himself and his cronies, he means, no doubt," snorted Augusta Longbottom quietly, whispering to Melisandre Abbott, who nodded in agreement.

"As such," continued Malfoy, "The Ministry of Magic, with my approval and heartfelt encouragement, will be taking temporary authority over sections of Hogwarts, in order to access this valuable substance. Nothing further, meeting adjourned."

He swiftly made for the exit, as a hubbub arose behind him.

"Curse you, Malfoy!" Shrieked Augusta. "You've sold us out to fill your own pockets again, you slimy little ferret! When I get my hands on you, I'll make you gobble like the turkey upon my hat! Mark my words, you fool, you'll regret the day you pulled such a sly, cowardly, lily-livered maneuverrrrrrr!"

— 0 —

(Hogwarts, Great Hall, moment of The Sorting.)

The hat seemed to drone on for an eternity, each child's name being met with their house's applause, which seemed to lessen the longer the sorting went on.

"Abbot, Hannah!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Brocklehurst, Mandy!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Brown, Lavender!"

"Gryffindor!"

"Bullstrode, Millicent!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Bwaïr, Steven!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Finnigan, Seamus!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

A series of explosions went off throughout the room, bombs going off as the boy in question stood up, waving the Irish flag as he screamed "FREEDOM FOR IRELAND! DOWN WITH THE BRITISH! UP WITH THE IRA AND THE REUNIFICATION OF THE NATION!"

Dumbledore quickly tied up and silenced the tiny terrorist before levitating him and floating him over to the Gryffindor table. "Thank you for that spectacular show of why you're being placed in Gryffindor, Mr. Finnigan. Please remember that qualified immunity only counts while on Hogwarts property, and that upon entering other jurisdictions, you may or may not be subject to arrest. Thank you. Now, let us please continue!"

"Granger, Hermione!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Longbottom, Neville!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"MacDougal, Morag!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Malfoy, Draco!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Moon, Elizabeth!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Nott, Theodore!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Parkinson, Pansy!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Patil, Parvati!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Patil, Padma!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Perks, Sally-Anne!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Potter, Harry!"

Minerva McGonagall resignedly stared at her list. Harry's name being on the list had been of great comfort to the rest of the staff, as it was to her, but she had no expectations. The boy had not been seen in years, the owls had been unable to find him, as had the aurors sent. He had disappeared, and odds were, he would never be seen again. Though the letter was sent out, it had no specific address on it when it left, and when it returned, it had born a simple "No thanks" written on the bottom. As such, it was only a cursory silence she gave. Soon, she would move on.

There was silence, all listening intently. There was nothing but silence… and then, from the end of the great hall, there came a scraping, clinking sound. The doors groaned loudly as they opened, and all stared. In walked a figure, small, and dressed in all black. A wide-brimmed hat adorned the figure's head, suspenders held his pants, and boots with wickedly sharp spurs clinked against the floor. A long, dark overcoat with a five-pointed star pinned on it covered his frame, and then he stood before them all, and a pair of revolvers could be seen strapped under his arms.

The silence grew all the louder as everyone stared at the newcomer in bemusement. Finally, the figure spoke, voice low and raspy, despite being very clearly an eleven-year-old child. "My name is Harry Potter," he rumbled, "And ah'm here ta liberate yer gasoline."

A/N: More of a setup chapter than anything else, but hopefully enough to tide you all over. Chapter four should be out within the next week or two, I'm currently studying for my LSAT (which is in about a week) so I haven't been able to write as much as I would like. I have everything up until chapter 6 written, but I want to have as much written as possible before I start posting in earnest.