Unsung Heroes
He breathed deep. Today he went back; back to face the stares, the whispers and the disgusted faces. Those people, they were once his friends. They once stood by his side against the world. Now they refuse even eye contact.
Pulling on his shirt and trainers, he set off downstairs to the dining hall where he was to meet his father and mother before leaving. He stepped through the mahogany double doors calmly, his face a mirror to those who looked upon it. He wouldn't show fear, he mustn't show fear. It wasn't acceptable to be afraid in his family. If you were, then you would soon be shown the door. Upstanding purebloods like themselves were to be respected, and feared.
His inability to murder last term, thankfully for him, had been dismissed. Being so young, they had given him a chance to redeem himself. All he had to do was eliminate one single redhead, and make it look like an accident. He smirked, it wasn't often he was asked to do such a thing; this was his one opportunity to ascend the ladder. Maybe one day he would rise higher than his father. He certainly hoped so; his opinion of his father had deteriorated in the passing of the last year.
Shaking his head to remove the white blonde hair from his pale grey eyes, he settled into a chair at one end of the enormous dining table.
"Good morning Father, Mother." He nodded to each in turn.
His father stared back at him with the same cold grey eyes his son bore. Either side of him sat the house ghosts, each one more ghastly than the last.
"Good morning darling." His mother replied smiling at him from his left. She was one of the most beautiful people he had ever known, and his love for her had never decreased since childhood.
"I trust you are all ready to go." His father eyed him coldly; they hadn't spoken since his leaving school last year.
"Yes Father, everything is packed and has been sent on its way already." He barely concealed a smile; his father was speaking to him again!
"Good. Now, eat up, and meet us in the hall, be ready to apparate." With that, his blonde, stony-eyed father swept from the room with an air of superiority about him. His mother smiled at him, and then too left the table, pausing for a moment to kiss her sons cheek, before following her husband out of the room.
Scowling at his fathers' lack of affection, the 17 year old quietly ate a little, then slowly got ready to leave. He changed his trainers for boots, and put a travelling cloak on over his crisp white shirt. He made sure his hair was just right; he couldn't have his classmates seeing him any less than his usual best, and smirked into the mirror. Perfect. No-one could resist him, and he knew it.
He began sauntering down the second flight of stairs, keeping to the strut to which his housemates had become accustomed. He caught his mothers' eyes and smiled.
"Come now, we must leave at once if you are to make the train." His father ordered, and gestured for his son to hurry.
"Yes Father." Was all the reply he earnt.
Seconds later they were whirling, speeding towards their destination. The train station, Platform 9 and ¾. Upon arrival, he quickly stepped away from his mothers' caring embrace and stood searching the rabble for the familiar faces of his friends. He needn't have done so, for they soon materialised through the crowd.
"Hey! How are you? Isn't it great to be going back?" Said one breathlessly.
"We've got our usual compartment ready, you coming now?" The other queried, while giving sideways glances to his friends' mother and father.
The latter sneered at him, he clearly thought little of him, given his previous encounters with the teen. The former however, was polite, and smiled warmly at the two of them.
"Go on then boys, go enjoy yourselves." She smiled, a dazzlingly white smile.
Her son turned, shook his fathers hand, then kissed his mothers cheek.
"Farewell Mother, Father." He turned and left them, stepping into the crowd of students entering the crowd.
They watched after him, until he was no longer able to be seen; then they too left, and apparate back to their manor.