Author: ARGHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! GOD GET THEM OFF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THE PLOT BUNNIES WON'T STOP ATTACKING MY BRAIN!!!!!!!!!!! FINE! FINE! I'LL WRITE THE STORY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Mr. Plot Bunny: Very Good. You don't want me to get the needle?

Author: NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The nice young man in the white jacket isn't very nice at all…. I'll be good….

Mr. Plot Bunny: Then do it. Now.

Author: OK…

"The Chronicles of Fayt"

Chapter One: Prelude 3.0

Harry Potter's POV

Privet Drive

October 31st, 1980

The baby lay curled up in his blankets, sleeping, and mercifully all the memories of the night had left his dreams and he lay there peacefully. A sudden shriek rent through the pre-dawn calm and he was jerked awake as a cry was ripped from his lungs, it split through the morning air and mingling with the shriek.

He felt two hands grip him and he was roughly pulled into a boney body. He was pulled inside the unfamiliar house and there was a loud slam and he cried harder. "MA! MA! MA! MA!" It was getting hard to breathe but he continued to cry. Harry wanted his mommy and daddy. Mommy and Daddy were nice to Harry. Mommy and Daddy loved Harry. Harry really wanted to be with Mommy and Daddy, maybe Mommy and Daddy would come find Harry if they heard Harry cry. They always came when Harry cried.

Vernon Dursley's POV

Number Four Privet Drive

October 31st, 1980

When he heard Petunia scream he came waddling over as fast as his fat body would allow. He then saw her with a screaming, red-faced, black-haired baby. "Wh-where did you get that baby from Petunia?" He managed to stutter out past his shock.

"I-I think it's Lily's son… Harry." Petunia stuttered out.

"I- I am not raising that… that FREAK in my home." He ground out as that insufferable brat continued to shriek and scream bloody murder. "We are not keeping it, we've spent long enough pretending you freaky sister and her bastard husband Potter don't exist, we're not going to raise that damnable freak as a reminder of her and the rest of those unnatural… things." He said, trying to think of a way to get rid of the freak without it being traced back to him, then the perfect idea struck him. "Petunia, I know, I-I'll leave early for work, and then I'll ditch him in the seedy area of London before work. Somebody will find him and it'll never come back to us!" He said excitedly as he formed the plan further in his mind.

"Vernon! He's a baby! You can't ditch him in the slums of London! He'll die! No matter how much of a damn freak he is you can't kill a baby!" His wife screamed at him. 'She's right.' He thought. 'Drop him in the middle of the night at an orphanage, that'll work.' He thought it over in his mind for a few moments. "Petunia, I can just drop him off in the middle of the night at an orphanage in London, nobody will trace him back to us because nobody will know we did it. We can just tell the neighbors that we're visiting Marge… tell them she's sick or something… let them know we're heading in the opposite direction. When I'm gone tell Marge nothing of the freak, but tell her we'll be visiting soon. Tomorrow."

Jane Stafford's POV

St. Mary's Orphanage, London

October 31st, 1980

11:30 PM

She started as a knock broke the silence of her room where she had been reading. Sighing she put the novel down and got out of her chair and opened the main door of the orphanage. She had been working here for nearly ten years, and the few knocks late at night never boded well, they usually ment another unwanted newborn. Opening the door she looked down to see a bundle and looking around she saw retreating tail lights going around a corner. She bent down and picked up the blanket wrapped baby and moved the blankets so she could see the child's face and she gasped in surprise, this boy was a year old. 'Who gives up a year old baby?' She wondered. She shivered in the cold night's air an moved inside, nearly running into Mark, one of the older kids here, he was fifteen in a week.

"A baby?" He asked. "This late at night?"

"Sadly, I think his parents just dropped him here." She said.

"Does he have a name?" Mark asked.

"There's no note here so as of yet, no, this little guy doesn't have a name." She said sighing, once again wondering why on earth the boy's parents left him after raising him for so long before now. "What do you think I should name him Mark?" She asked. Mark walked over and peered at the little boy.

"Hey, what is that?" He muttered as he looked at the boy's forehead, brushing his fringe of hair aside. "A scar?" He wondered aloud. "It looks like a lightning bolt, that's pretty cool." She herself though it was rather odd looking, peculiar even, after all, how does a baby manage a scar like that?

"We should name him… Jason." Mark said, breaking into her thoughts. "He looks like a Jason to me." She had to agree with Mark, the name did seem suit him well.

"What about a middle name…?" She wondered. "Alexander." She said out loud as it popped into her mind. "I like it, Jason Alexander."

Another thought popped into her mind. "Mark, get back to bed, you know the rules, in bed with your lights out at eleven. Shoo." She said laughingly to him.

"Oh all right." He mumbled as he turned and walked the other direction towards the boy's wing of the home. She soon followed and went a bit farther down the hall to the room that served as the nursery and went to the only open crib and quickly made the bed and put the newly named Jason into the crib before walking out. She then went back to her office and started filling out the headache inducing paperwork and she finally finished, an hour later.

In the years following Jason, later named Jason Alexander Black, grew and fit in quite well into the orphanage, he cried for about two weeks though, he missed his mom and dad. It broke her heart though, Jason was clearly very attached to his parents, indicating that he was loved and played with at home, yet he was dropped off here? I always confused her to no end. But, Jason seemed to like it here. He even found a new 'family' here, it consisted of James Thompson and David Wilson. James was six years older than Jason and was his "older brother." David was the same age as Jason, only six days younger. (Jason's official birthday was now October 31st since nobody knew what it really was, it became the day he came to St. Mary's.) Well, David wasn't REALLY part of the family Jason had made here, but Jason and David were often inseparable.

But, Jason and James were brothers, even if not by blood. They even looked like they were related. Both had jet-black hair and they had the same nose, eye shape, face shape. They even had the same stupid hairstyle, a Mohawk. Jason's was worse though, black hair with of all things, bright acid green tips. Other than that, most people thought they were brothers until they told otherwise. James took care of Jason too. When some of the kids who were older than Jason picked on him, there was James, the ever-protective big brother there to tell them off and more often than not, chase them off, and of course on occasion, he did beat a few kids up for "Messin' wit me lil' bro 'ere." The boy had a horrible accent, and no matter how hard she tried, he never lost it. This of course lead to Jason "inheriting" the accent as well. Those three boys drove her up the walls sometimes, she swore to God, the trouble they managed to get in, she was getting driven to an early grave. Of course, when Jason was five, almost six, his little world here was rocked to the core. James left to a boarding school for the gifted, some place called Hogwarts School for the Gifted and Talented. She really never thought James fully applied himself at school and all of his teachers agreed, he was brilliant, yet exceptionally lazy. But… he still got invited to this school. Jason was crushed his "Big Bro" left without him. The lady who came from the school told him that maybe, if he studied really hard, he could come when he was older too. After that Jason threw himself into his school work, determined to get into Hogwarts, just like his "brother." Nearly six years later, it happened, the same woman came back, with the message Jason had been waiting for years to hear, He was in. Hogwarts had accepted him into the school. Hopefully they could handle the kid. Lord knows I have a hard time with it.

I know…. Short-ish. Well, I'm sorry, but this is the prologue to a hopefully long story. Spanning across several stories, I'm planning on doing the whole thing over seven or eight stories, one for each year and the year(s) after Hogwarts. Umm… by the way, if you want to flame me, bring it on, so long as you have actual complaints, I don't want to hear "YOUR STORY SUCKS!" because I can guarantee I can cuss more than you can. However, extremely rude CONSTRUCTIVE criticism is welcome. I would be a hypocrite if I said otherwise, because I do it all the time, its very therapeutic, a good vent for anger…. Anyways… review…. or just go read another story… but if you want to be nice to me… please review. Also, in the world inside my head, the Potter's were attacked on the 30th of October. So… yeah. There.

P.S. If you want long chapters and more updates, reviews (Even mean ones) make me more inspired to get past any potential writers block or me being a bitch and not writing more often.

P.P.S. If anybody catches the references in the title of the story/chapter title/names of people you get an e-cookie! Any flavor too! Yay for e-cookies!