There are legends of a group of teens, not of the human race that roam the world. They all come from different nationalities but they all have one thing in common.

They were exiled, beaten down, told they were not good. They were the out casts of their races. But one by one they were found and together they created a kingdom, not a real kingdom by any stretch of means, but a tight knit family. One of werewolf descent might call it a pack, or a vampire might call it a coven.

In the group were two of wolf descent, The Bird and The Man Protector. One of Vampire descent- The Prince, One of Elven descent The Weary, And The Sorceress- The Hardworking.

The Bird and The Man Protector were one, their Souls split in half only to become one when together. The Prince, forgotten memories plagued his mind, not knowing his own name and history. The Weary, not in tune with nature as most of her kind was she lived in self exile not feeling as if she was an elf herself. The Hardworking Sorceress, not borne into magic like most of her kind is, she lived a prejudiced life until she ran away.

They say, that even today they live and that are still searching, searching for a way to get back their liege lords memory back and even still accept others that don't belong…

Young Harry Potter was not normal, thank you very much. Unlike the rest of his family he made things, unnatural freakish things, happen. Like that time he managed to get on top of the school building when Dudley's gang was playing there latest round of Harry Hunting. Or that time his teacher thought he was cheating and wouldn't believe he wasn't and his wig turned blue.

So needless to say, Harry Potter of Number Four Privet Drive, Surrey was a Freak.

After all, only freaks deserved punishment, and chores. Evident by the fact that his cousin Dudley didn't have to do chores and he did. Not even Aunt Petunia did chores around the house! So yes, he believed himself a freak.

And what did freaks do on Saturday mornings? They went shopping, by themselves mind you, at 5 o'clock in the morning.

So young Harry, age 6, left his relatives house. And it just so happened on the night before it was a full moon and it was still dark out.

Oh the Irony.

So Harry walked down the street nervously. He could feel the chaos magic, not that he knew it was chaos magic, swirling around the street he was on, which happened to be a small side street no one really walks on anymore.

Suddenly, he heard a growl. Looking up he saw a huge silver wolf snarling at him.

Quicker then he could scream, the wolf bit his shoulder. After the bite he felt dizzy, and just before he felt darkness coming, he could feel the rays of light and a raspy voice saying, "I didn't mean to bite him!"

And finally at last, the warm embrace of darkness came to Harry Potter.

A/N: I dont know if I am going to keep this one or not... If people like the plot so far I might continue it... say 3 reviews until I even consider a next chapter?

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