The scream echoed through the hallway. The 11 year old boy sprinted up the stairs and into the room on the right side of the landing. The door slammed shut and was soon barricaded. The boy new however, that there was no way that would keep her from entering.
He brushed his black hair out of his eyes quickly and then wrestled open the protesting window. The youth stuck his head out and looked down. It was a good three meters down. Taking one look at the rattling door he slipped out the window, landing painfully but successfully on his feet.
The boy stood up and sprinted across the street. There was a park there, a large overgrown old park. He'd gotten lost in it when he was 7, which was one of the reasons he went there now. If it was hard for him to know where he was then it must be hard for his mother to find him as well. He denied himself the right to take into account that his mother had magic at her disposal.
The world could be so cruel.
He slinked his way between the trees and bushes, arriving at a small sheltered alcove. He swung himself up onto a branch and clambered up even further. Once he was a couple of branches up, he sat down. He turned his blue eyes towards the other side of the street when he heard a small explosion.
A light rain began to fall, dodging through the leaves and pattering into his black, wavy hair. The rain ran slowly down his cheeks.
000
"YOU'RE AN UNGRATEFUL LITTLE BOY!" The voice echoed through the hallway.
In the room on the right side of the landing the boy sat on his bed, his head down. The door frame was singed and the door missing, some ashes still on the floor. His mother stood before him, face turning a light shade of red, fists clenched at her sides.
The boy just sat through it all.
The woman gave one last spiteful comment, turned on her heals and stormed out the door.
The boy turned around on his bed and faced the wall. His legs were drawn up to his chest and he had his arms wrapped around them, chin resting on his knees.
A tap rang through the otherwise silent room. On the windowsill sat an owl, a letter clutched in its beak.
The boy stood up reluctantly, opened the window and permitted the rain drenched bird to hop in, though the letter was dry. He grabbed at the letter, but the bird shuffled sideways. The boy was finally able to yank the letter from the owls sharp beak, but not without suffering some pecking.
The letter was addressed to him and had the Hogwarts seal. He stood up slowly, letter in hand and headed towards the stairs. He slowly slunk down the stairs and towards the kitchen. Inside sat his mother and father, he had yet to be noticed.
His mother was speaking. "But seriously, why can't the boy just be more like Regulus?"
A/N: I know it's short, the other ones will hopefully be longer. However, this story is just an idea, and if I get no reviews/messages about it I won't continue it. Your choice. The more support, the faster the updates.