rocco.
"Rocco! Stop that! No, clean up the mess, don't walk away from me!"
It took a good chunk of restraint not to retaliate against my mum. I had been smashing bottles against the side of the house. Dad said we should get rid of the bottles. And that's what I did. I got rid of them.
Walking back towards mum, I avoided stepping on the broken glass, and grabbed the broom and dust pan from mum's hands.
"Honestly, what goes through your head when you do these things, Rocco? It's as if someone has unscrewed your brain!" Mum chastised me. I glared at the floor not replying.
"Young man, you're going to need an attitude change if you still plan on leaving in a week. I know you want to see your little friends before school starts up again, but if I can't trust you in our own household, how can I trust you at your friends?"
I looked up at mum, who was standing over me, watching me sweep up glass.
"I'm not at their house. We're at a hotel in Diagon Alley." I replied, mock politeness hovering in my voice.
"Well! That makes me feel much more comfortable!" said Mum, sarcastically. She sighed, closed her eyes, and walked back inside our house.
"Love you too, Mummy dearest," I muttered under my breathe. By then, I had swept up almost all the glass, so I dumped it in the trash bin, while putting the un-smashed bottles in recycling.
I stood up and brushed off my hole-filled blue jeans. Looking, down my street, I saw a few of the other kids my age playing football on the front lawn. I had grown up with them, been good friends. Now we didn't talk. Not since I left for Hogwarts. But that was 5 years ago. The part that I really hated was that my parents had lied to me, saying those kids would be going to. When I asked their mother if my dad could drive the kids to the train station with me, she told me to go home. I'm in my fifth year at Hogwarts, and I haven't talked to them since.
They aren't the only ones that thought my family was loony. Practically the whole neighborhood knew I was being sent to a boarding school for children with 'special needs'. In other words, that I need special disipline. The people on our block don't even like to look at me. I guess they think I might burn their house down.
I decided today would be a good day to take a drive. My family had one muggle car, and we didn't drive it that well.
"Mum! Goin' for a drive!" I yelled into the house.
"Your Father's got a job interview today! Leave it!"
"Kay, bye!" I said, slammed the front door, and walked to the car.
About my dad, I didn't worry about his job thing. Dad kept switching jobs at the ministry, so he kept having to reapply. Dad also didn't like to apparate, which made the car preferable, since my house doesn't have a fireplace.
Inside, the car, I remembered the keys were inside. My first instinct was to use my wand. But then again, expulsion wasn't optimal. I pulled the backing off the dashboard, and flipped the trigger the key should have hit. The car rumbled to life as I replaced the dashboard, and then backed out of the drive.
Where I was going wasn't really important. It was just getting away from my house that mattered. My parents had decided to move into a muggle community in Surrey instead of a wizarding town in Bath. My mum was muggle born, so she decided she wanted to live with other muggles, or whatever. Dad didn't care that much, as long as we were close to his work. The house was small and cramped. It made me feel suffocated.
Along the road I saw a sign for the lake that served as my town's park. I swerved sharply into the lot, and parked.
There were picnic benches a few meters away, so I headed over to one close to the lake and sat. Taking out a pack of cigarettes, I lit one with a lighter, and inhaled. It felt good. My parents didn't let me smoke in the house or the car, so the lake was a good place to go. It was calming, helped all the stress leave my brain. I tousled my wavy, dirty blonde hair as if that let my head relax faster.
"One more week," I said to myself, "One more week."
It was the middle of August and I had been stuck at home all summer. I had written letters to my friends Dray, Leo, and Maddox, but I hadn't seen them since the end of school, and I wanted to leave home desperately. We had made plans to spend the rest of August at a hotel in Diagon Alley without parents, and then leave for the train together. My parents let me go reluctantly, but I promised that we would be under supervision, and would have responsibilities to look after my friends' younger siblings. These were lies, of course. No parents would be with us, and, although the siblings would be coming with us, I had no intension of babysitting.
We weren't going to throw parties and pick up girls or anything, really. My friends and I just wanted to experience some freedom.
In one week, I would be leaving for Dray's house in Bath, and as a group, we would all leave for London.
I noticed 2 girls walking towards the picnic benches chatting loudly. I ignored them until they sat down at a bench across from me.
"Hello," I said nonchalantly, "You two doin' all right?"
The girls stared at me strangely. "We're fine, thanks," replied one, "How are you," she said, clearly uninterested.
"Okay, I guess," I said exhaling smoke, and staring at the lake.
The two girls went back to talking for a while, but their conversation dropped off, and an awkward silence ensued. Trying to be polite, I asked,
"Either of you like a cig?" The one girl should her head; the other cocked her head to the side looking curiously at my cigarette.
"Smoking's bad for you, you really shouldn't do it," she said quietly.
"I know. I really shouldn't," I deadpanned.
"How old are you?" The first girl inquired, frowning at me.
"As old as you'd like me to be," I smiled, "Nah, I'm fifteen. How 'bout you?"
"I'm sixteen, she's fifteen," the girl replied, now obviously anxious to stop the conversation.
"How come you started smoking at such a young age?" The second one asked again. She didn't seem to mind me as much as the other girl, but I suspected she didn't have as much sense.
"Dunno. I was bored. One of my friends smokes cause his parents smokes, so he offered me a fag one day, I said sure why not, and now I smoke. Great story, right?"
The second girl smiled politely.
"Yeah, well, I think we'd best be going," the first girl said. The second one looked at her surprised. Her friend glared back.
I could catch the drift.
"Oh, no, don't let me ruin your evening," I said, stomping out the cigarette, "I'm just leaving."
I got back in my car and started to drive back to my house. Rummaging through the trash on the ground, I fished out an issue of the Daily Prophet. I was supposed to have given it to Mum yesterday. While driving, I glanced at the article on the page showing.
'Dumbledore Insists Dark Lord's Return'
I frowned at that. I had heard rumors before school let out that the Potter boy had seen the Dark Lord return, but I didn't know whether to believe it or not. My parents had figured, 'If Dumbledore sais he's back, he's back.' Me? I didn't know for sure. I respected Dumbledore and his wisdom, but I was the kind of person who liked hardcore proof.
Pulling into the driveway, I saw dad entering the house. He waited for me to get out of the car.
"You weren't gone that long," Dad said opening the door.
"Yeah, well, neither were you. How'd it go?" I asked him, walking inside.
"Position was already filled."
"Ah, shame."
"Yea, but what's there to do?" Dad sighed, and headed into the kitchen. I went upstairs to my room. I had some packing to do.
