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I am back after a long absence; I deleted every story before and have decided to start out completely new on this same account. It was my very first and I can't replace it with another. Without further ado.

A lone boy sat underneath the tree, book open in his lap, and his eyes glued to the text. He wore the smallest of smiles, his mind able to escape reality and dive into this fantasy and ideal world describe in the text. Quiet and shy, he rarely spoke to anyone due to his genuine fear of letting people into his life (but more importantly, his heart). However, he feared rejection above all else ergo he did his best to avoid it by never growing close to anyone but his family. Some may wonder why he was so closed off and kept to himself, but little did they know the boy held a secret that would drive even the most accepting people away.

His parents would always make a job of making sure their child would not forget the challenges and difficulties that lay in his future even if the poor boy already knew his life would be harder than most. It was a dull blow to his heart every time the sore subject surfaced, but the only thing he could do was put on a brave face and nod as he pretended to agree. More than once, he began to think of a world without him in it, what the point of his existence was, and why he had lived only to become a monster.

These thoughts remained solely in his mind. When his parents did raise the topic, he would always groan and raise the book a little higher to hide his face. He could tell his parents were looking at each other with concern, which crushed him with guilt. He was simply too young to worry about his future . . . or so he thought. Fate had a different idea for him.

The had his father's blue eyes and his mother's kind spirit. Despite these two shared characteristics, it seemed to have been the only thing the young boy inherited from his parents, Lyall and Hope Lupin. The child of this young couple was a proud half-blood, able to have a foot in both worlds. Lyall, who came from a semi-wealthy background in the Wizarding world, fell for the Muggle, Hope, who had captured his heart with one smile. Many children grow up to be half-bloods, yet their child was a special case. Unlike most wizards or witches in his world, the boy was a half-breed, not human, but not beast. He was stuck between the two realms as a werewolf, turned at the mere age of four.

His name was Remus John Lupin.

Sitting in his bedroom on his bed was a young boy, who was the heir of a wealthy and a very well-known pure-blood family. Having the money and leisure did not mean much to him. Instead of going about the neighborhood and meeting new friends, he sat in his family's mansion and stared out the window, occasionally looking around the house for passageways and secret rooms (even though he had found two, he was convinced there were more and continued searching relentlessly simply because he had nothing better to do then to explore his home).

"Friends" was not in this poor boy's dictionary.

Without friends, the poor boy was beginning to lose hope of ever making any, sulking in his room and becoming more and more withdrawn. Secretly, this boy only wished for one...just one, single friend who he could share his life with. Perhaps he was dreaming a little too big but a friendless boy could wish. He could wish with every fiber of his being.

Being an only child, many expected him to be a prat. Perhaps he was but he was a good person at heart and only had others' best interests at heart. He honestly was a good kid with good intentions, deviating from the stereotypical image of a pure-blood descendant.

Perhaps it was his job to prove everyone wrong.

His mother and father were highly respected extremely successful Aurors, who also came from an entire bloodline of pure-bloods; and even if his parents were older, they were kind and true, spreading wisdom to the ones they talked to. However, if there was such a group of blood-traitors, it was the Potter family. Contrary to popular practice, this boy was taught the importance of equality and fairness. He learned from an early age the discrimination and hate wizards and witches had for one another without a warranted reason. It saddened him at first, but his parents would always cheer him up and tell him he was the one to make a difference.

This boy was the son of Fleamont and Euphemia Potter.

His name was James Cicero Potter.

A boy with the darkest hair (as black as a raven's feather) that cascaded to his shoulders sat gloomily in his house, feeling ill tempered and spiteful towards his parents. Forced day by day to sit in his room, he began to crave adventure, wishing and even daring to sneak a peek at the world outside his double oaken doors. Eventually, his parents had given into his profuse begging and allowed him out of his room every so often, giving him the freedom to wander about the house as long as he did not go outside.

He looked out his window longingly from his wooden floor of his room. The window stretched from the ceiling to the floor, giving the boy a wonderful view of the large field of swaying grass that danced with the wind as it blew around. With a bit of magic, the Black Manor had the luxury of being placed in the center of the city while the backyard had one of the biggest yards imaginable, stretching for nearly a mile.

He always pondered over the subject of freedom, wishing so dearly he had it. He familiarized himself with all kinds of history and revolutions for freedom, admiring the way those historical figures always fought for what they so strongly desired, whether it meant sacrificing what they had to get what they needed.

His parents were discriminating and dominant, feeling more superior and sanctimonious to the rest of the Wizarding world because of their blood status. Like the Potters, the Black family worked for the Ministry and had a bloodline of pure-bloods, there to intimidate those whom they deemed unworthy.

The Black heir knew he was different from the start, right from the time where he was old enough to start growing his own opinions. When he realized his own were nothing like his family's, he knew something was going to arise out of the entire situation.

Indeed, it has. His family began to shun him.

They took pride in their wealth and power over others and took it to their advantage. Their sons were forced to remain silent and follow their rules when they would go in public, always wearing expensive clothes to look powerful and talk to select people. The eldest of the two boys, who were nothing alike when it came to personalities, began to rebel, disobeying orders from his mother and father to get a rise out of them. The youngest brother would sit and watch with his jaw hanging open, shocked at the audacity his eldest brother had.

His parents were Walburga and Orion Black.

His name was Sirius Orion Black.

In a little house in the middle of a suburban location, dwelt a small family of three. They were, indeed, pure-blood but to the pure-bloods, they could have been anything but for they were not wealthy in the slightest nor were they working at the top and controlling people. They worked as simple clerks in Wizarding shops around London, blessed with their only son (who was more plump but nonetheless sharp and alert) with a heart of gold.

The poor boy was constantly ridiculed, laughed at, and bullied. He often came home crying about one thing or another, wishing the world would just give up on him like everyone else had. His parents were at loss, having no clue how to respond to such depressing wishes. The boy would lock himself in his room and would refuse to come out for hours on end. Sometimes the mother had to leave dinner outside his door. A secret not to be told: the boy would take his dinner and shove it all into the garbage, feeling just a little bit better about himself. After the good feeling wore off, he just went back to feeling miserable.

He seemed to have been caught in a never-ending circle of misery and depression, wishing someday it would all end. Even beggars have their wishes and even doubters have their fantasies.

However, after a while, he began to grow more confident. It was not too much confidence but just enough to get him back on a regular eating schedule. He was also able to occlude all the rude bullies, letting their insults bounce right off him. He was beginning to hold himself with pride.

This boy was the proud son of Prius and Deborah Pettigrew.

His name with Peter Prius Pettigrew.

Remus sat in the dining room, looking out the window while watching and listening to the waves crash against the beach. Their glass table sat right near the largest window in their pert cottage, sticking right out of the side of the house, offering a nice seat with a great view. The bay window was nicely sized, letting natural sunlight flood through the kitchen. He was reading the Daily Prophet his mother received this morning and followed his mother with his gaze as she bustled about the kitchen.

"Mum . . ." Remus said slowly, averting his gaze to his scarred hands, "Mum, what if—do you think I'll be rejected from Hogwarts?"

"I have no idea," Hope said and came into the dining room with her wand drawn and levitating a stack of plates that floated behind her. "I can't say anything Remus."

Remus cast his gaze away to hide his hurt expression and looked out the window, willing for something to happen. However, for the next ten minutes, nothing did happen. Sooner than later, ten minutes turned to twenty minutes, which turned to thirty and Remus's thoughts started reeling through his mind were making him dizzy. Internal wars were no stranger for his thoughts frequently battled each other loudly inside his head.

Why would anyone let you go?

Maybe they are fair.

Open your eyes to the world of discrimination.

There has to be some people who understand.

Idiot! Do not be stupid!

I am not, I am being optimistic.

Since when was the world based on optimism?

The thoughts raging in Remus's head came to an abrupt stop—but as soon as Remus silenced the two quarreling sides of himself, his door's bell rang. It rang once and it rang loudly, blaring in his ear as he sat in the chair at war with himself.

"I've got it," Hope called to her son. "I've got it."

Remus grunted in reply, something his mother did not particularly like him doing, but she whisked past him and smoothed down her clothes. With a deep breath, she opened the door. Remus lost sight of her when she shifted her angle but the silence told Remus something was not quite right.

Biting his lip, he slowly rose to his feet and moved over to see just who his mother was talking to. With a huff, he peered around the corner and nearly passed out.

Albus Dumbledore, a man Remus read about and could only dream of meeting, stood on his doorstep.

"Do excuse the spontaneous visit," Dumbledore said lightly, smiling gently. "I only want a word though I hope I am not interrupting anything."

"A word?" Hope echoed, sounding very confused.

"A word," Dumbledore confirmed and turned his twinkling yet searing gaze on Remus. "And this is Remus Lupin."

"How do you know me?" Remus asked, raising an eyebrow.

"May I come in?"

Hope took a graceful step back and allowed the legendary wizard into her home, welcoming him with a grand gesture of her arm as she graced him kindly.

"It has come to my knowledge Remus Lupin is of age," Dumbledore said and turned his gaze back to Remus.

Remus felt his face burn red; it was bad enough getting a letter of rejection (which he would have taken over being rejected by the Headmaster himself). Fate was simply laughing at him, pointing its finger and taunting him behind his back.

"Come of age, sir?" Hope asked, smoothing down her shirt. "I don't quite understand. What does that have to do with anything?"

"Are you not planning on giving your boy an education, Hope?" Dumbledore asked mildly but pleasantly. "As a top student in your world and with Lyall being the top of his class at Hogwarts, I would have expected him to be bursting at the seams about this opportunity."

"I would," Remus blurted out before he could stop himself. "I would give anything to go to school but I can't, sir."

"Well, why can't you?" Dumbledore asked, folding his hands before him, smiling down at him. "Pray, why can't you?"

"Sir," Remus muttered, completely forgetting about his manners. "Sir, I'm a werewolf. I am dangerous. How will I ever fit in at school? I'm a freak...a-a monster! I'm—"

"More than capable of attending my school, Remus Lupin," Dumbledore interrupted, holding his hand up to silence the rambling boy. "I look around and see no monster. All I see is a young boy with the desire to learn...to prove himself. Those are the students I desire at Hogwarts."

"I'm sorry," Remus said, now frowning deeply. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"Why would it be?" Dumbledore asked gently, raising his eyebrows.

"I'm a werewolf," Remus said and bit his lip to keep the anger from flowing out of his mouth in a form of terrible words. "I don't understand. No one would want me, no one would want to teach me or be near me...or even interact with me...just like the rest of society."

"Headmaster, you know he can't go," Hope said quietly, making Remus's eyes prick with tears. She frowned at the bearded man, visibly upset he had come into her home and gave her child false hope. "You know very well you cannot permit a werewolf. What would everyone else think?"

"I don't recall asking what everyone else would think," Dumbledore said with a little hum in his tone. "Remus Lupin, if I may."

Dumbledore rummaged through his cloak and pulled out a neatly sealed letter with green ink flowing across the front. He looked at it then gave it Remus with a caring expression.

"A letter," Remus murmured, his voice hoarse. "A letter from Hogwarts."

Dumbledore's smile only widened.

"Permitting me to go," Remus said, blinking back the tears. He turned to Dumbledore with solemn eyes. "I can go? You're being serious?"

Dumbledore merely nodded wordlessly as Remus went over the letter again. It was a bit longer than normal, having an extra note about the new arrangements Dumbledore had made with the school's staff. It was a full three minutes before anyone spoke again. Remus spoke again, but this time it was different.

"You're being serious? Sir, I can't thank you enough!" Remus gasped.

Dumbledore merely waved as he apparated out.

Sirius Black was sitting on his bed, flipping through a book that his mother had given him. He read it not because it was a topic that captured his interest, rather it was a task done as a result of crushing boredom and desperation to do something, anything really. But as soon as he reached chapter fifteen, reading about the pure-blood bloodline his family had and prided in, there was a loud voice that carried up three floors, bounced off the walls, and echoed through Sirius's door; it was his mother's voice.

"Sirius, get down here!"

Sirius sighed and heaved himself to his feet, feeling more and more gloomy as he opened his door to stare down the hall. If he was ever called down from his mother, he was sure to get in trouble for the previous times his mother called for him, he had been yelled at.

Regulus, Sirius's younger brother, opened his door and poked his head from out of his room, eyeing Sirius nervously.

"What does she want?" Regulus asked as Sirius walked past his room.

"I have no idea," Sirius replied and shrugged. "Nothing good I suppose."

Regulus looked wary then shut his door again, leaving Sirius to walk down the hall and down the three flights of stairs, taking his time with each one as he made his way to the kitchen.

"Hurry up!"

Sirius shoved the urge to roll his eyes and walked into the kitchen where his mother was standing with her wand drawn, and holding a letter in the other.

"It's for you," she said brusquely and turned to continue her work.

Kreacher, the house-elf, was muttering to Mrs. Black about being able to do the work for her and she nodded.

However, he was rarely paying attention for his gaze was fixed on the green ink that was clearly addressed to him. He opened the letter with a letter opener resting on the table, unfolded the first parchment, and read it. His eyes grew wider the farther he got into reading and when he was finally done, Sirius suppressed a shout of triumph.

"I've been accepted to Hogwarts!" Sirius announced to no one in particular. "I've been accepted."

"Have you?" Mrs. Black said slyly and looked at his son with a dominant glare.

"I'm free," Sirius whispered shakily to himself. "I'm going to Hogwarts."

"You come from the noble Black family—we belong in Slytherin as do you," Walburga said with her nose in the air. "Have I made myself understood?"

"Always, mother," Sirius said albeit absentmindedly.

"You are one of us."

Sirius bit back a stinging retort but nodded curtly, not really caring what his mother had to say at that point.

"You're dismissed."

Sirius wasted no time leaping out of the kitchen and bounding about the house before he raced back upstairs, taking two at a time and reaching the third floor in less than a minute. There, when he turned the corner, saw Regulus, who was sitting on the floor of the hall, leaning against the wall. When he saw Sirius, he leaped to his feet and gave him a puzzled look.

"Are you all right?" Regulus asked, looking at his brother up and down.

"Better than all right!" Sirius roared.

"What's happened?" Regulus asked, looking at him with wide and curious eyes.

"I've been accepted to Hogwarts!" Sirius said and stuffed the lette right under Regulus's nose, making it rather hard to read.

The younger brother's face shone with envy as he stared at the letter and read it. Sirius could not stand still even if his life depended on it, his face starting to feel sore from the grin that would not slide off.

"You're so lucky!" Regulus said bitterly, giving the letter back as if it had personally insulted him.

"I'm free," Sirius breathed. "This is my ticket to freedom."

"Lucky you."

"You'll get yours next year," Sirius pointed out and started making his way to his room.

Regulus shrugged at Sirius's statement and backed away into his room. Sirius slammed his door as he ran into his own bedroom, desperately holding back a celebatory holler, holding the ticket to his freedom in the air.

Peter sat at his table, reading the Daily Prophet, feeling rather bored; his father was at work while his mother was at home, maintaining the home. She was cleaning her small but now spotless kitchen and using her wand to dispose of the unwanted garbage. Just then, something tapped angrily on the kitchen window; Peter looked up startled and saw a beautiful tawny owl. It soared happily into the kitchen and settled on the table.

Peter was distracted by the letter clamped in its beak and took it, pushing his plate of toast towards the owl and opened it the envelope that was addressed to him. He pulled out the first bit of parchment and started reading, going down the letter with his eyes; his face seemed to light up as he finished. Running into the kitchen with the letter above his head, he burst in, shouting for his mother.

"What?" she asked and caught the letter clutched in Peter's hand.

"My acceptance letter to HOGWARTS!" Peter said gleefully and showed his mother the letter.

"Oh Peter! That's wonderful news!" his mother said and hugged him. "We will have to celebrate of course. How about your favorite dinner?"

Peter just grinned.

James was outside, leaning against a tall redwood tree that was growing in the smallest patch of woods near his house. He took one look at his house, wondering if he was going to be stuck there until he would wither away and die; warped out of his thoughts, he saw an owl with something in its beak fly towards him. Unsure of whether to run or wait, James was paralyzed with curiosity as it flew down next to him in the grass.

The owl was had beautiful white plumage but in its beak was a letter. James bit his lip and knit his eyebrows as he cautiously leaned forward with his hand extended, not wanting to scare off the beautiful owl.

"May I?" James whispered to the owl.

It did nothing but blink at him.

James snatched the letter from the beak, stroked the owl's white feathers, and started reading. He nearly burst with excitement as he sprang to his feet and sprinted the distance between him and his house. The grass underneath his feet became a blur as he seemed to fly over the ground.

He burst through his door and skidded to a halt where his mother and father were sitting. He waved the letter in their faces and immediately recognizing it, they exclaimed and hugged their son with bursting pride.

"What?" Mrs. Potter screeched.

"I've got it!" James bellowed, breathlessly. "I've got it!"

"We are proud of you, James!" Mr. Potter said, coming up to his wife. "We knew you were going to get it. You belong at Hogwarts."

"I can't believe it!" James said, crushing the letter to his chest and pumping the air with his fist.

Hogwarts meant freedom from his house. Hogwarts meant meeting new people. Hogwarts meant meeting his potential best mate or mates. Hogwarts meant living the life he thought he would never have.

"You are going to meet so many new friends," Mr. Potter added. "We are so happy for you."

Hogwarts meant a new life.

This series will go through all seven years and beyond. First year will be updated just about daily!