DISCLAIMER :)- I own nothing of these fandoms whatsoever. Be it Harry Potter or any others, I take no credit in ever writing these series/book[s].

Summary: Eight-year old Harry Potter suddenly moves to Oregon when his uncle accepts a better job there. Ashland, Oregon to be exact. That's where he meets 11-year olds, Coraline Jones and Wybie Lovat.

A/N: 'Ello to you all. If there are any mistakes in my story, please tell me. I can't make it better without knowledge of my errors.

CHAPTER ONE :]

"Hurry up, boy! The rain will soak through our luggage!" Vernon Dursley said as he watched his tiny nephew, through the window, carry the over-sized luggage and suitcases from the car. He stayed in the house, where it wasn't exactly warm, but it was better than outside in the cold rain.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon," said his nephew, Harry James Potter, quietly. His giant cast-offs that once belonged to Dudley were being soaked and dragged him down. He made sure to never let any of the bags touch the muddy grounds, his Uncle would blow a gasket if he found that he had dirtied anything of theirs.

Uncle Vernon glared at him once more for the twentieth time that day and turned to face his son, Dudley, who had just come in the room.

"Daad, I'm huungry!" he whined, Dudley Dursley hadn't much neck and was very overweight. With blond which lay smoothly on his thick, fat head and small, watery blue eyes. In all, he looked much like his father.

"Oh, Dinky Duddydums, you look absolutely famished! Hurry, Vernon, Dudleykins wasting away!" Aunt Petunia cried just as she entered the room and heard of her son's cry of distress. She was thin, blonde, and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck. It had once came in useful when she would spend her time craning over garden fences and spying on the neighbors.

"You're right, Petunia. BOY! Are you done with those luggage yet?" he looked out the window again and saw Harry walking back up the stairs to put the last of it away.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon. Just the last box is needed to be brought in." Harry said. His tiny, thin hands grasped the sides of the box, which contained canned food, and quickly hauled it up inside. After he closed the trunk of the car, of course.

"Good, now go cook supper!" Uncle Vernon said. Dudley was behind his father and looked out towards Harry. That's when he stuck out big tongue at Harry and wore a smug smile on his face. Harry nodded and quickly left to prepare the dinner which he wouldn't most likely get to eat. He knew better than to respond to Dudley's childish attitudes and chose to follow orders instead.

-Please Choose To Ignore Me For I Shall Serve To Be A Time Skip-

Uncle Vernon disliked Harry. No. He down right hated him. Loathed him, despised him, disliked him, hated him, any other words you can think of that would show his hatred to his own nephew in a single word. And that is why he chose to give Harry a new bedroom. A cupboard. Under the stairs. Again.

This one was much smaller than his old one. Only because of Harry's small, malnourished body was he able to actually lay down without hitting the wall. Harry sighed, at least he was fed something today. A single slice of bread and half a glass of water wouldn't be considered a snack, but it was the only thing he had eaten all day.

He was used to this, he didn't like them, but he wouldn't dare be caught complaining. He wouldn't be complaining period. As much as Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley were his least favorite human beings, they were family. His uncle, aunt, and cousin. Who have complete power over everything he does, but that's besides the point. Harry had taken a cold shower in which Dudley thought it'd be funny to dump cold water on him again, to 'make sure he was clean'.

Of course, he was the one who had the mop up the mess, he didn't even get time to dry off before he received a slap in the face and was shoved into the cupboard.

He curled into a ball and silently cried. His bright, emerald eyes were clouded with pain and misery. He tried to stop shivering and gather as much warmth as he could. He was shaking so hard that it seemed like his pale, petite body may break.

When he calmed down enough, he nodded off to sleep and tried to imagine what his parents would have been like.

Maybe they were nice.

Maybe they were like the Dursleys.

Or just maybe they would treat him like he was the most precious thing in the world to them.

Harry couldn't picture himself being wanted by anyone.

"No one would want such a freak like you." his Uncle had sneered at him. Harry truly believed that no one of this Earth would ever like him.

Ugh.

A/N: So sorry for all the mistakes and everything else.