Title: In the arms of a stranger

Author: So Yun

Chapters: 1/?

Rating: M

Warnings: Language

Summary: One-shot? Can kindness come from someone you don't even know?

Chapter one: Forbidden Russian

I always wonder what it's like to have a real family. When I walk down Privet Drive after my uncle has cast me out, I peer into windows of the houses lining the street.

I see such things that fill my heart with warmth, but it slowly melts away when one of them sees me pathetically watching. I love watching the families smile and the way they look at each other in such love. No one has ever looked at me that way.

Or how an elder brother tickles his younger sister and she giggles loudly, or when a mother reads to her son while lying on their lounge. The look of pride in a father's eyes as his little girl gets ready for her first dance. Or how an elder brother teaches his younger brother the finer points of football.

I spend hours strolling down the suburbs streets looking casually in on these families, I'm not a stalker I'm more like a beggar. If one of them sees me watching, they give me a strange look, some smile and wave, some don't. They want to protect their family from people like me.

I grimace and smile weakly whilst I kick stray pebbles from out of the gutter. I feel so shallow and pathetic, if someone looked in on my so called family they would see:

Me cleaning whilst my cousin Dudley is coddled. Me, in my room looking at a wall while my stomach grumbles. My relatives savouring roast pork downstairs. Me getting yelled at and my hair yanked as I'm thrown out the front door. The last is the most common scene you will see.

I sit in the gutter for awhile and try to calm myself, I know now anger will not get me anywhere.

I was far too consumed in my rage after Sirius went through the veil; it definitely got me no where. One day I will be so calm and I will never cry. It will become impossible for me to shed a tear, that's what I want to become one day.

I want to run so fast I am a blur, I am blindly running. Nothing can affect me.

These days I am so numb, I've decided to shove my grief aside for now. It will be the thing that shall bring me down if I let it take over me. I've built up my fortresses walls so high, no one can break them down, no one can climb over.

My smile no longer reaches my eyes and I am desperate for affection. But I would never tell anyone, they would think boy saviour is a pansy. Want's his mummy-kins attention twenty four seven.

I look up to the skies and whisper, kiss my forehead goodnight mum, wipe away my invisible tears. Hold me to keep me strong and standing dad hug me when I can't do it.

Misery is me, when I stare at my reflection I do not see happiness. I don't know what happened; I used to be happy all the time. But now it's my routine to look sad. Besides the fact my godfather is gone forever, although I know in my mind and heart that isn't it. Maybe it's just me.

I often stare at the bathroom mirror after I have my cold showers of a morning. I stare deep into my emerald eyes and become so consumed in my reflection. Droplets of cold water drip from my wet, raven hair. I touch my bare chest and stomach, I feel as though a disease is slowly spreading up them.

I've revelled to sitting on the swings at the nearby park, watching in pure joy as a dad pushes his ten year old son on a swing.

They both smile at me, the dad winks and his little son waves. I wave back and smile, it is all I can muster but it is still a smile. I watch them for a few more minutes until the yearning in my heart is nearly unbearable. I swear it's giving me physical side effects for I can bear it no more.

Finally when it gets dark, my heart laden with heaviness, I know I am not welcome back at number four so I stumble down the street. An aura of warm lights shines from houses along the street I stumble.

I had found an unopened bottle of Russian vodka behind a tree at the park, wrapped in a paper bag, must have been my lucky day.

I am sculling it as I walk, I don't give a shit if I go home drunk. Who cares. I don't. It eases the terrible coldness in my heart and chest, it burns me but I like it. I don't care if I poison myself; I don't care if I fall down right here and now, die in the gutter.

As I smile lopsidedly while looking in the windows, I feel my stomach churning as I finish off the last drop in the bottle. My vision is blurring even with my glasses.

The bottle slips from the grasp, it smashes into the road, a loud recurring sound echoing the street. I laugh loudly, but with melancholy and I stoop to pick up the bottle. I realize at the last minute it is now all broken glass, my fingers are cut and bleeding. But I don't care.

I feel the ground coming towards me as I stumble on, I feel ill. But somehow I can't bring myself to care otherwise. I am heading towards the ground, almost in slow motion. I can't be bothered to stop myself, or attempt to soften my fall. But the hard landing never comes; I fall asleep in the arms of the stranger who caught me.

When I finally wake up, I'm in a warm and comfortable bed. Someone has even tucked me in, taken off my glasses and washed the blood off my hands and bandaged them.

I sit up and hiss in pain when I accidentally lean on my cut hand, my sound must have caught someone's attention. A young man in his mid thirties runs up the stairs and in through the open door, he is by my side in a second.

He grasps my hands gently and rubs the skin, the pain throbs away in an instant. As I watch him, I look up to his face. He is quite young and handsome; he has blond hair with brown eyes. He would definitely taller then me, he smiles kindly as I watch.

I open my mouth and try to speak, but my throat feels so dry and parched from the alcohol I had consumed last night. He drops my hand gently and passes me a glass of water, I gulp it down greedily. He grins and stops me, speaking for the first time.

"You'll make yourself sicker if you drink too much Harry"

I look up at him in shock, how the hell does he know my name? He must have noticed my look and answers,

"Your bus pass was sticking out of your pocket"

I nod slowly and croak, "Thanks" The man puts out his hands and answers, "Alex Goodwell, I have sons a few years older then you. They always used to get drunk" He said and grinned as though remembering.

I shake his hand lightly and nod again, the man looks at me concerned then starts abruptly,

"Can I contact your parents somehow?" He asks and looks at me in a strange fashion. I shake my head slowly and reply, dryly,

"My parents are dead"

"Oh, I'm so sorry-"

"It's ok, you didn't know" Now I feel so hallow, I don't know why. Maybe I am getting over the shock of this man's kindness.

"My two sons, Ben and Josh saw you on the street and brought you in. They said you were drinking pretty strong stuff, you are?"

"Sixteen, my birthday was yesterday" I only just realize myself I have been sixteen for a day and a half. I don't care though, nothing changes.

"Ah, partying hard" He says and pats me on the back. I nod numbly and say,

"Yea, partying hard"

He sits the glass of water on the bedside table, "Well I'll leave you be, my sons may come up in awhile and see you. They were a bit worried that a kid your age was wondering round, your hands were pretty cut up" I nod for the millionth time and look at my hands; I hear the man sigh and leave.

I fiddle for a few more minutes before running my hand through my hair and sighing. I pull the covers back and get out; I straighten the bed before collecting my glasses and bus pass off the bed side table. I write a small note on a writing pad from the draw then leave the room. I creep down the stairs and start for the front door but a hand stops me.

"Hey kid, you sure you're alright to leave?" A guy only about two or three years older then me is standing behind me. He also has blond hair and brown eyes like his father I am assuming. I grimace and nod, answering thickly, "Yea I'm all good, thanks for everything"

The guy frowns, "You told dad or Josh you're leaving?" So this must be Ben, I shake my head.

He nods slowly still frowning, "Want me to walk you back to your house?"

I go to deny but then I think it might be nice to have company, I'll just make sure he leaves before I get to the front door. I don't want him to see Vernon yelling the living daylights out of me.

I nod and he grabs his jacket off the hook and opens the front door. I follow him down the street and we walk in silence until he starts,

"So what's your name?"

"Harry Potter"

He nods and smiles back, "Dad told me you just turned sixteen last night, happy birthday kid. I tell ya now; sweet sixteen is the best year of your life"

He laughs and claps me on the back, I nod, "Yea, can't wait"

"So, have a good sweet sixteen party last night I saw"

My smile fazes and drops, I don't answer. I can't be bothered to pretend, I hadn't even realized it was my birthday. I definitely wasn't celebrating that's for sure.

Ben Goodwell notices this and presses on, he actually sounds genuinely worried.

"You weren't partying?" He queries and leans forward to look at my face.

I sigh, I mosewell tell the truth, it's not like I'll ever see or talk to this guy again, "No, I didn't even realize it was my birthday"

He nods slowly and asks worriedly, "Hey kid is something wrong?"

He seems to hit a spot, a flaw in the walls of my fortress. I choke back a sob and swiftly wipe away the tear that had escaped. I keep looking at my feet as I walk, I am being weak! Ben stops me with his hand and turns me round to face him; he looks down into my face,

"Hey kid, you can tell me. If not, Dad is really good with things. He'll help you, its okay"

I shake my head furiously and start to pull away, I just want to run away and hide in a hole. The guy seems to guess my actions; he grabs my arms and stops me, "Hey kid! I'm not going to hurt you! I just want to help!"

But I wrench my arm out of his grip and run down the road. I feel as though I am finally a blur, I keep running. I hear him shouting for me the whole time, but I ignore him. He can't help me, no one can. I help myself and I'm just fine.

Please review, no flames.

Thanks!

Yun