Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling wrote Harry Potter, not me, though it would be nice if I had, since I'd be rich, but either way, I own nothing already written or claimed by other people, and if they don't claim it, well finders keepers.

Summary: This story is supposed to be set a few years after the HP story. It won't contain very many of the official characters, except for the professors, of course. The rest will be made up by me. This is rated R because I'm too lazy to make sure it stays pg or pg-13.

So on with the story I go, I go. A go-go.

The Tale of a Young Wizard
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He lived in a small house, comparable to a cottage. He went to school like any other child, but he hated his school. He was poor, dreadfully poor, and so the children would mock him for his economic standing. "So what if I don't have a pair of shoes for every day of the week?" It wasn't his fault he was poor, his father was an alcoholic. What little money he made at the factory, he poured into alcohol, which he poured into his own fat stomach.

He wasn't sure if he hated school or his home more. He loved his mother but every day things just got worse and worse. Everytime his dad got drunk, he'd turn around and beat his mother, and he got drunk every day now, so his mother got beaten, every day. He was lucky so far, his father had never hurt him, but he had come close to it before. One time, in a drunken stupor, he threw a lamp at little Steven, and this is when things started to change for the boy. He closed his eyes tight, and said to himself Oh please, please don't hit me, please someone save me. The lamp, somehow, flew around Steven, and crashed into the wall. His father, too drunk to care, simply collapsed on the couch like he did every night. Little Steven, however, had noticed what had happened, partly out of fear, and partly out of confusion, he ran to his small bedroom and went to bed, but this wasn't the last time something like this would happen.

It was a cool day in August, he had decided to take a stroll around the outskirts of London, deciding that it would be safer then staying at his home, where his father had just been layed off. He was wandering towards no place in particular, walking with his hands in his pocket and his head down, looking particularly gloomy. As he crossed the street, he didn't bother to look around, and out of no where he heard a loud SWOOOOOOSH.

He awoke in a very comfortable, very warm bed. A very tall, very old man stood above him, with a concerned but friendly look on his face. The old man stuck out his hand from under his beard, and said "Good Afternoon, my name is Albus Dumbledore, you are in my home, I was...er...driving...and I ran in to you, I was just going so fast I didn't see you."

Still in a state of shock, all he could say was "Please...don't take me home...please..."

"Don't?" Dumbledore enquired, but the boy had fallen back to sleep.

Let's see just who this young man is...Dumbledore thought to himself as he held out his hand and let Steven's ID card float to his open palm.

"Steven Indoval..." Haven't I heard this name before? He asked himself, as he proceeded to the next room where his desk sat, on it, a list of the new first year students to attend Hogwarts this year, but before he could check the list for Steven's name, an owl tapped at the window above him, carrying a Hogwarts letter.

Dumbledore snapped his finger and the window opened, letting the bird in, which immediatly flew into the room where Steven was sleeping and dropped the letter on top of him. He smirked at the irony of the situation, enchanting himself to be invisible while he flew through London on his broom, only to collide with a lost boy, who turned out to be a new Hogwarts student. He couldn't help but wonder about the only thing the boy had said. Why didn't he want to go home?

The old wizard pulled out a pipe and puffed a bit, dwelling on this thought.

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"Steven? Steven, it's time for you to wake up."

"P-Please mom...just a couple more minutes..."

"Steven, you have to get up, we have alot to discuss.."

"S-Such a good d-dream..."

He sat up and rubbed his eyes, blinking a bit as he couldn't see without his glasses, which the person handed to him. After putting them on, he realized that this person was not his mother, but an old man. He then remembered the "dream" he had.

"It wasn't a dream.."

"Sorry, no, now shall I take you home?" Dumbledore enquired.

"No! No, please! I don't ever want to go back, please let me stay here, please Mr...Dumbledore?" Steven begged him.

Dumbledore cocked his eyebrow at this, "Yes, that is my name, Albus Dumbledore, why don't you want to go home Steven?"

"M-My dad..." he began to cry quietly, "he b-b-beats m-my m-m-mommy..."

"My goodness..and does he beat you?" Dumbledore asked, with a concerned look upon his face.

"N-N-No..he tried once, he threw a lamp at me...but i-it.." he trailed off.

"It what, Steven?"

"I-I-It...it went around me, I don't know how, I got scared and I thought really hard about it not hitting me..and it d-didn't."

"I see..." Dumbledore stared in a way that seemed to be approving of Steven.

"Oh by the way, you got this in the mail, if you have any questions feel free to ask me." Dumbledore said, rather carelessly, as he tossed the letter to Steven, whose eyes widened when he saw what it said.

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Notes: Well this is my first story, nevermind first fanfiction, please review, be gentle I'm a virgin... :( hehe...oh well, shorter then I would've liked, but eh.