The Difference it Would of Made

I'm not going to deny it, this story was possibly the worst ever written. In fact I hate all the stories I have put up here so all of them will be deleted and restarted. These were written back in the days when I used text talk. Amazing what a few months can do, God only knows what that means for the economy…..No I have no idea what I am on about. Just read please.

Disclaimer: Well as you have no proof of my real identity I may be J.K.Rowling. But for legal matters I am to state that I own nothing.

When born different, you generally don't know until its too late to denounce the unwanted birthright. When you grow up, you don't consider being gay or bisexual until you hit puberty. Then it's not something you can resist. Too many hormones flying and too many drinking stunts or drug experimentation to check yourself before you leap in, feet first. You clever ones out there will get the metaphor, albeit a bad one. Now try having to resist your birthright. The entirety of your birth, your reason for breathing, the very cause of your every atom in your body…. Is the very reason you wished you were dead. Ironic, non?

You can't resist fates hand, it seems. It directs where you should go, yet never listens to where you would like to go. And at this second in time I would like to go anywhere except to my final destination. Bloody Hogwarts.

Throughout my life, I have been rejected from society, due to sheer fear and jealousy of piteous mortals. None of them understood that I was harmless. Yet now a bunch of crazy old buffoons up in scraggy Scotland decided I'm fit to slowly integrate into society. Bastards….

Now I'm facing seven years of constant torture, for something that is beyond unachievable. My ultimate dream; to teach some form of magic. Anything from divination to potions. I love it, the smells to seeing the child shine through with promise every time they enter the door. But due to my, as many of my childhood tormentors liked to say, 'unnatural abomination' I've generally been kept from reaching towards my own wand let alone a cauldron. So being realistic, my current dream is to escape from my mothers claws and reach the train tracks.

"Amarezza, stop sulking and act properly. You farther and I did not travel up from the other side of London to watch you drive off in a huff. Just grow up." My lovely mother. The one who named me. Means bitterness in Italian. Figures that they could take a lovely little thing like me and name it something rather horrible. Hate my name. Hate this train. Hate my mother and her long nails that are digging into my shoulder. Hate my farther with his bad jokes about all the fun I'm going to get up to. They know as damn well as I do that the headmaster is obligated to inform my year of me, and my possible little flaws. That enough is enough to bring my downfall.

"Mother, can I make this plainer? I do not want to go to this school. It'll just cause hassle and misery. Remember last time you….."

"Look, I'm not joking young lady. The headmaster has been very kind to offer you a place and even gone to all the trouble to sort out special arrangements if the need arises. You will be in with people your own age and you will enjoy it. That is final. Now me and your farther have to run. Time is money and we've got to get that new flat painted before the lodgers come round to see it. Highly populated muggle area so no magic allowed. The trains bout to leave anyway. See you at Christmas and have a great time."

Leaning down, my mother hugged me, her hair cascading down like waves of velvet. I hugged her tight, relishing in the scent of vanilla that my mother always wore. This was a scary experience going to school and not one I wanted to go alone, as it seemed the case may be, and my mother would be the perfect guide. She pulled away from me with a few sniffs and hid her eyes behind a pair of sunglasses, even though there was little light in the station.

My farther turned to me and eyed me with suspicion. I narrowed my eyes in retaliation. At the begging of summer my farther decided that if I was going to a proper school and no longer being home tortured then I should learn to communicate with others. Thus he deduced that I was spending far to much time drawing rather then out and about trying to find friends. So he marched into my room and, to say the least, if wasn't pretty. But he got away with a couple of signed eyebrows and I kept my books. This explained, probably explains why my mumbled words of farewell could translate into "Sod off" or "See you". Suppose I will just have to take my pick. And off they walked, never knowing what cruel fate they had abandoned their daughter to.

Picking up the large and heavy suitcase I dumped it unceremoniously on the floor of the last carriage, reached out for my owl, Equilibrium, and slammed the door shut. I was a bored child, I had plenty of time to use a dictionary to find a name no one else would ever call their owl. Ever. Putting the cage on the luggage rack and throwing a couple of owl pellets up, I look down at the suitcase. More chance of eating a Chimera then me attempting to lift it up to the luggage rack. It can stay there, and be used as a foot rest. Welcome to school Amarezza, going to be lonely and boring. Settle down and grab some refreshments.

Jumping at the sound of the door sliding, I realised I had fallen asleep. The train was rocking rhythmically as it went over the rough surface of the rails. Looking around in a slight panic, as well as doing a discreet check for drool, I locked eyes with two boys. One was small, skinny, green eyed, raven haired and pale skinned. The other tall, lanky, ice eyes, red haired and freckled. Two opposites of each other, both looking at me nervously, as though expecting to be eaten or at least maimed with permanent injuries. Well I would hate to disappoint if the need arises. Subtly reaching for the wand in my back jean pocket, I smiled in a valiant attempt to break the ice.

Good, bad, ugly? Worse or better? Cause if it's bad then I would rather just begin to focus on other stories I have planned but you know, focus on one thing at a time and all that organizational stuff. There will be mistakes in here. I have edited it several times but they always slip in there don't they? Takes two seconds to review but keeps me happy for at least two hours, even if it is a bad one. At least I know its either really good or really bad. Would hate it to be an everyday one. Then I will just delete it. I know its a wee bit short but it is a prolouge mainly to gauge peoples reactions to the editingness.