Disclaimer characters within are not my property... some parts might have been wrong... forgive me for the lapses

Author's Notes This vignette was made out of whim... R+R!

Teaser He needed a place to stay, and the only person who can provide it to him might have been emotionally out of reach...

Family: A Vignette

I ran away from home because I couldn't take my mother's constant screaming anymore. I know I hadn't risen up to meet her expectations of me. But I didn't need to be reminded of it every waking moment of my life. Especially not by her. So I packed and left.

For good.

I know I had nowhere else to go except for this one place where I know I was welcome, even if I was a big disappointment.

I came, soaking wet with perspiration and tired from my journey, knocking at the door. I waited impatiently, breathing heavily as if I couldn't suck in air at all. It had been a long journey, longer than I would've liked it to be. But there's nothing much I can do about it, months shy as I am of my seventeenth birthday. But I couldn't wait that longer to be out of the house, out of my family's constant pressure, out of misery.

The door finally opened and a short plump witch came gasping at me. Her dark hair was held tight in a bun, her spectacles settled snugly on top of her sharp nose, and her gray eyes wide with shock.

"Dear boy, what are you doing here? And looking like that!" She moved past and I entered, closing the door behind me. I could hear her noise in the kitchen, positive she was preparing something for me. "You made my heart stop, young man," trailed her voice. "He's out flying. Does he even know you're coming?"

I removed my cloak and tried to wipe the dirt from my face away with my travel-worn hands. "No," I answered, feeling a rush of heat on my cheeks. I haven't caught myself blushing since I was six. Something about her reprimanding tone made me feel guiltier of running away from home than marauding and making troubling back at school.

I made my way to the kitchen and found her making something for me. "It was—er—rather sudden, so I didn't have the time to send an owl informing him of my arrival." I placed my cloak on top of the counter and quickly helped her with a tea pot.

"Need not to, dear," she said with a huff. She placed the tea pot in front of me, conjured a pair of cup and saucer and turned to give me a sympathetic look. I turned away immediately, feeling the heat on my cheeks rise up a few degrees. "I take it you had a row with your mum then?"

I smiled sheepishly. No wonder he couldn't get away with trouble. I sighed. "A lot during the past few days." I stared at my hands and played with them, flexing my fingers at random. "More than we ever did. I tried to sit still, but I couldn't take it anymore. Their tirades? Their mania? The family name? I hate—"

She huffed again and grabbed my cloak, cleaning it unconsciously. I was grateful for that interference. "Where will you stay?"

"With my Uncle Alphard. But just the holidays. I just have to wait for the end of next year so I can take off on my own. I have enough money to last me next year at Hogwarts. And my Uncle Alphard said he'd give me gold if I needed it. After that—" I shrugged.

She paused before she took a seat beside me. Her smile was gentle, her eyes soft and tender, and she bestowed that look on me. And I never thought I'd feel the way I felt right now. This is what I hoped for from my own mother, what I desperately needed, what she never gave me.

"I'll put up an extra bed in his room," she said, standing up to do, I think, just that.

I looked at her as if she was out of her mind. "But, Mrs.—" She waved me off.

"Come now, dear," she huffed, "my husband and I won't mind. We'd love to have you here. After all—" her feet echoing on the wooden stairs "—you are part of the family."

I gaped. I just gaped, shocked at what I heard, not quite wanting to believe it.

I had my own family, who's rolling in riches and harping about how royal they are, pure-blood even from the earliest ages of magic. But no one was prouder of our heritage than my mother; indignant about half-bloods and abusive to muggles. She loved my gullible brother so much she would kill just to keep him safe. And I, a blood-traitor, constantly reminded of how low I've succumbed. Traitor, ingrate, shameless... where was my pride? I couldn't take her anymore. I couldn't accept the fact that a mother who was supposed to be the vessel of love and care was the one who tore me apart emotionally. I hate her.

And here she was, his mother, offering me shelter because I am her son's best friend. Best friend... that alone made me part of a family, a real family. And that alone was enough for her to give me the face of tenderness, of care, of love—the face of a mother.

The back door opened, and he was there, grinning madly as he entered the room looking worse than I did, clutching a broom and a golden ball fluttering with silver wings—a snitch. He got a butterbeer from the counter, turned, and stopped dead at the sight of me. But he regained his composure immediately and gave me his mad grin.

"Bunking again, Padfoot?" He asked, throwing me the bottle and getting one for his own.

I smiled back. "If Lily doesn't mind."

He laughed as he sat down the stool vacated by his mother, opening the bottles and toasted a silent salute to me. "Why would she?" He took a gulp. "She know's you're my brother."

Brother. He said it so casually it only seemed natural for him to think of our friendship as more than one. We're like brothers, tied not by blood but by a link that's as strong, or even stronger—trust and loyalty.

Family... so this is what it really feels like. Something natural yet altogether different. I like it.

"Brother," I toasted, gulping butterbeer myself, smiling wider knowing that I came to the right place.

Author's Notes How was it? A bit crappy? I just did this out of boredom... hope it was all right... Reviews?