July 24th, 1991
Ironwood's Children's Home.
Reincarnation-something that shouldn't be possible. At least, Steve Steven Stevenson didn't think so... until he woke up as a British kid three decades in the past. Oh, the horror. But honestly, Steve would prefer being reborn in the UK with working legs over being bedbound in a hospital in Texas.
It's been 9 years since Steven first opened his eyes in this world. Now 11 years of age, he can confidently say he's entered the second decade of his life-practically a grandpa at this point.
"Steve! Come down here, stew's getting cold!"
The first thought that'd come to mind at hearing Steve getting called down would be that it were his parents calling. That thought would be wrong. Steve was different from most other folks in how he had no parents. No family, really, but hey, at least he has his legs again right?
"Coming, Ms. Hart!" Steve rushed downstairs, not wanting to miss out on dinner.
Downstairs, there were a dozen other kids sitting around the dining table. All varying ages, from the youngest being around 6 and the oldest being 17.
"Took your time, didn't you?" the grumpy looking kid, Sarah, remarked. Sarah was a ginger girl with more freckles than braincells, and she also seemed to harbor a dislike for Steve-perhaps envy for his amazingly good looks as well.
"Just say you want my portion too, fatty." Steve shot back. Heh, beefing with a kid, Steve thought, how the mighty have fallen.
"You take that back, you-!" Sarah's face flushed with anger, cheeks burning redder than her hair.
"That's enough, you two." Erwin, the oldest boy at the table, sternly interjected. Erwin was the responsible one out of the bunch. He'd been at Blackwood's Children's Home the longest and nearing his 15th year there. Erwin was a tall, broad shouldered 17 year old with rather above average looks (just like the author fr fr). He looked between Steve and Sarah with a stern stare. "If you two are going to continue acting up, I'll take both your portions and feed it to Daisy."
The mention of Daisy made everyone pause. Daisy was a mutt, Ms. Hart's, who'd been spoiled beyond belief, always getting the best scraps from the table. Daisy would've been more than happy to eat their share of stew, and everyone knew it. Steve had lost plenty of snacks to the demon, even a couple of shoes.
Steve met Sarah's glare for a moment, then slouched in his chair, crossing his arms. "Fine, fine. It's not worth the calories anyway."
Sarah huffed but didn't argue further. Instead, she grabbed her spoon with a bit more force than necessary, clearly still irritated.
Erwin sighed dramatically, shaking his head. "You know, you two should really consider doing a bit less fighting. Otherwise, I'll have to start charging for all these therapy sessions."
"Yeah, and you'd be rich," Timmy, the lanky kid next to Steve, spat out with a grin.
Erwin shot him a look. "Not the time, Timmy."
Ms. Hart, who'd finished up in the kitchen, returned with a weary smile. "Alright Timmy, that's enough. Why don't we have a moment of silence? Well, eat up kids, and no more arguing you hear?"
"Yes, ma'am." Steve muttered, grabbing his spoon. The room fell into a rhythm of quiet eating, the only sounds being the clink of cutlery and the occasional chatter between the kids.
Steve's mind wandered as he stared into his bowl, the tasty stew a welcome distraction. For all the chaos of this life-being reincarnated as a random orphan in a children's home-there was something oddly comforting about it. Ms. Hart's cooking, the easy bickering with the other kids, even the occasional "attacks" from Daisy… it was home, in a way he never thought he'd have again.
Yeah, no parents. But at least I've got this, he thought.
He was so lost in thought that he didn't even notice the odd silence that had settled over the table until until a sudden noise interrupted his thoughts.
Knock. Knock.
Everyone froze. It was an unexpected, precise knock-too formal, too uniform to be from any familiar face. No random folks ever visited the children's home-at least, they haven't as far as Steve remembered.
Ms. Hart stood up from the table, her brow furrowing slightly. "I wasn't expecting anyone," she muttered under her breath, clearly puzzled.
The knock came again, louder this time.
"Who's that?" Sarah asked, her voice sharp.
Ms. Hart gave her a glance, one that clearly said don't push it. "Stay here. I'll check."
As she walked toward the door, the air in the room seemed to grow heavier. Steve's heart skipped a beat. There was something about that knock—something that didn't sit right. The kids exchanged nervous glances, sensing the change in atmosphere. Even Erwin, usually so composed, was eyeing the door with a tense look in his eyes.
Ms. Hart reached the door and paused, just before her hand could touch the handle.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The door's red paint looked ominous-almost as if it were a warning. Whoever it was that was knocking... Steve couldn't help but think they might be dangerous.
Steve's curiosity bubbled to the surface, and he hunched over, attempting to catch a glimpse of the door from his seat. He leaned further, and just as the doorway came into view, the door swung open, and a voice called out unpleasantly.
"Is this the residence of... Steve Steven Stevenson?"
Full government name? Yikes.
[Author's Notes]
My first ever story y'all, plz be nice.
It's been ages since I've written anything-stories, essays, bla bla bla, so I'm a bit rusty. As you can tell from the tags, this is gonna be a fic taking place in the Harry Potter verse.
But Crab, you're probably asking, where's the magic? Shouldn't Steve have done accidental magic or something and mentioned it?
I originally wasn't going to make this a fanfic, or magical. I was bored and wanted to write a novel because I got a couple hours open every now and then. Always nice to pick up a new hobby, y'know?
But then halfway through I realized I suck ass at worldbuilding, so might as well use a universe that's established, i.e. real life or a fictional universe I am well versed in... and there aren't many I'ma be honest. Real life sucks ass, and the only works of fiction I am somewhat knowledgable in are Fairy Tail, Harry Potter, and Attack on Titan. Oh, right, My Little Pony too. So I went with Harry Potter-pretty much real life but with fantastical element. Which is why this chapter ended up not feeling magical at all-it was a last second change. And another slight problem, I write like an American and not like a Brit. Whoops. We can figure that out later.
Why still publish this chapter? I didn't wanna change my mind, might as well full send it. Too late to back out, we ball type shi. Alright, enough yapping, time to draft up the second chapter and figure out where I am going from here.
Or I could snooze and hope I wake up with an idea on how to add sustenance to this. Get a plot going, or a semblence of one. Or we still ball, Idk. Frick it. This is just practice for when I write an actual, original novel in the future. Maybe.