A Different Time

Chapter One

The is my first fan fiction. Please don't judge it if it's bad. Hope you enjoy.

Anthony Black. The misfit of the Orphanage. The one who got bullied his whole life. The kind of kid that had no friends and had to do with imaginary ones. He had no idea who his parents were. And why on earth these strange things happened that he couldn't explain. And they were caused by him. He was left at the step of Ankins Orphanage as a baby. No one saw anybody come by. It was a mystery. He tried so hard to fit in, yet it didn't  work. Why? He had to figure that one out. Although he had a suspicion it was because of the strange things that happened to him. Now, at 7 years old, he stared out of the old orphanage window, deep in thought. He yearned for someone like him. Someone who didn't fit in, who needed friends, who wanted to know why everyone just shunned him. Little did he know, there were 3 other kids, who felt the exact same way.

Andrea Pocoman was someone you would call a goody-two-shoes. Didn't question adults, and didn't do a thing wrong. In all truth, that wasn't her. She knew just how much percent she needed to get in a test to not get bullied. Sure, she had friends, but she never felt like she belonged. She always felt left out. She might be quiet, but inside she was having an inner battle with herself of wether too or wether not tell her parents about the strange things that happened around her, the ones that made her feel like a misfit or even a freak. She so badly wanted to know why. Why it was her, of all people, there was a godforsaken 7 billion people and it had to be her. She heaved a sigh as she stared at the plate in front of her. She didn't feel hungry anymore. Was it that hard to ask for at least one person she could relate to.

Adele Hunt was hated by her father, probably by her whole family. Her mother had died in child birth, her birth. Her father had blamed it on her, and well, she guessed he had a good reason, if she had never been born, her mother would have never died. To make matters worse, she was an oddity who should have never been born, or as her grandmother had so kindly put it. It was bad enough that her family hater her for her mother's death, but she made things happen. She once made a clock explode, or at least everyone said it was her. All she could remember was feeling inexpressible anger when her cousin had stole her mother's necklace and broken it, then blamed her. And then the clock broke. Walking out of her father's study, she mulled over her thoughts. She stood in the door frame. Why couldn't there be someone else in the world like her.

Harry Potter had been told all his life that his mother and father had died in a car crash when they were drunk. Then he was dumped on his relatives doorstep where they kindly took him in. Unless kindly counts as beating him with a belt, starving him, and giving him a cupboard as a room, then they did it very kindly. They said they did it to beat the freakishness out of him, but he doubted anyone could do that. He was scrawny. There was no doubting it. Though he wondered if it was genes or them starving him. At school he was bullied for his oversized clothes (they once belonged to Dudley and were five times too big for him) and because he was bullied by Dudley's gang. If you messed with Dudley's gang, well it was bad, let's say that. Sitting in his cupboard he wondered if he would be able to make friends in the new school. His old one had expelled him for climbing school buildings. Falling asleep, one thought was in his mind, would life get any better.

Heyyy, you guys can call me Ash. I like the name. If this is bad, do say so in the comments. I'll try to update once a week, but no promises there. The storyline may be a bit off at times. I'm just warning you. Anyway......