Supposed to Feel Like Home

Albus just stared at her. Stared at her as though she was some alien species who had strolled into his home and demanded a place to stay, rather than his kid sister who literally had nowhere to go. So, she stared right back at him. All she was doing was treating him the way he was treating her. She was being aloof and indifferent and... she was being a Potter. Sure, James was nothing like this, but he was also... somewhere else, wherever it was. She and Albus were practically the last of the Potter clan - a really depressing thought as they were probably the worst possible representatives for the family.

She needed to get her stuff? A little bit of classic Lily revealed itself, as she ticked her eyes and gave him a sarcastic look. Those looks had always been apart of her irritating form of charm. She had constantly been scolded by her aunts, uncles, and mother to not make such faces, always causing her siblings and cousins to give little smirks of pleasure and rebellion. Though it was a snide look, it was as normal and as friendly as Lily really got.

Of course she had to get her stuff. "I wanted to leave like... the week before school starts or something. That's when Casey's going. No reason to go before she does, you know." She shrugged heartily. "I can go when her parents take her. Or I'll go when I get bored. I don't have any plans or anything."

Okay. This was getting ridiculous.

Lily's lips curved a little to the side, eyebrows rising, blank face contorting into something so supremely teenage and sarcastic that Albus had to pause, and inhale; just for two seconds. They said that taking care of younger siblings made one feel older. Innumerable family dinners had been spent, nodding politely at the 'adults's questions, and then rolling their eyes at each other behind everyone's backs. A mutual acknowledgement of exasperation at parents, uncles, aunts and whoever else was remotely sensible and hence by translation, stuck-up enough to tell them off. And now, Albus felt the irrepressible urge to do the same as the 'grown-ups' and tell Lily to stuff it.

Yes, she was here because she had to be. There was no other place. If there had been another option, she would have taken it. They both understood that. But it would be nice not to have that rubbed into your face so often.

But he didn't snap, or even put on a remotely stern expression. Naturally. Instead, there was a bare flicker of movement about his lips, a lift that could hardly be seen but was there all the same. He stood up, pushing his chair behind, left hand curling around the Coke can once again. He turned around, and his voice was wryer than it had been in a long time. "Apologies if this seems like the middle of the Sahara, and your life isn't as hot and happening as you'd like." Those two h-words spilled like foreign terms from his lips, the disdain light enough almost to be invisible. But there all the same. "A word of advice. Excitement isn't all its cracked up to be. Nothing ever is."

A final drain, and the can was empty, and being flung to the bottom of the bin with a clatter. A pause.

In spite of the annoyance, the next words still dropped from his tongue inexorably, incapable of being stopped. Better clear all things out now. He didn't trust her, or himself, to ever speak after being closeted within the safety of rooms and closed doors again. "Have you got your Ministry letter yet?"

Lily briefly wondered if her brother was either her twin brother or an alien that wasn't even related to her. How was it that he could seem simultaneously just like her and nothing like her? She knew that she and Casey were totally different, and that was why they got along so easily. But both Albus and Lily were much too stubborn, much too guarded, and much too wrapped up in their own issues to be able to relate to each other. It seemed that all of her winter break was going to be the two of them refusing to properly communicate with each other.

As it usually ended up.

But she could have sworn she had seen some faint flicker of amusement on his face before he delivered cutting words to her. She lifted a single eyebrow and leaned back, taking in her brother as she crossed her arms. Hot? Happening? Was Albus fifty years old? She knew he wasn't exactly a social guy, but still.

"I don't like hot and happening, and I didn't expect it, either," she said, her voice crisp. "I don't want excitement either. I'm perfectly content to while away my vacation here, reading in my tower - I mean, my room." She smirked at him, a little proud of her own joke. She was surely going to get hell for it, but still. Worth it.

And then, he changed the subject to darker matters. Her arms loosened around her and she dropped her gaze, scuffing her foot against the floor briefly. "Just the one that says 'Get your ass back here so we can pawn you off to some dude.' Not the 'Come meet the steer that's going to impregnate you' one." She waited a long moment before she glanced up at him. "What about you?"

And just like that, the annoyance fractured and splintered into tiny, little pieces.

He was resigned to his fate. This was always how it was, wasn't it? In this year, Albus had managed to hold decent conversations with a number of people his age without it relapsing into too much of awkwardness; but drop in one member of his family and he was back to square one: with someone staring at him unreservedly with ill-hidden judgement and a dude-are-you-really-for-real look decorating their faces. There he was, back to shadow-like, boring, unnecessary Albus.

But this year was different. Had been different. Sure, he had made a number of choices that turned around to slap him across the face, and prove that nothing ever really changed; but at the same time, something had. People would never really care, but something in this year had persuaded him to drop the resentment and stop caring so much about it in return.

So the faint smile that pulled at his lips was loathe to be hidden. He crooked his head ever-so-slightly to the left, "Smart-arse, aren't you?" He shrugged his shoulders then, a smooth roll of movement. "I don't have the liberty to behave like an immature seventeen year old any longer; so can't stay at home to put on a clown's costume and entertain you. The tower it must be." And since he had affirmed not to care, there was barely a second's pause before he lied, straight-faced. "I haven't got it either."

"Now. Wouldn't want to bore you any further......" He turned towards the doorway for a second time. Paused for a moment. Spoke, with no inflection in his voice whatsoever, like it wasn't important, like it was just the weather, "If I can help it, Lils, you won't ever see the face of that letter."

They didn't need to get along. He would have promised it anyway. She was still his little sister.

She continued to stare openly at him. His little quip was almost comforting, the beginnings of a smile began to trace her lips – but he ruined it by continuing to speak. Nothing made a teenager more agitated than someone else talking about how adult they were. Especially when that someone else was said teenager’s brother, who was just a tad older. And that had always been a pet peeve of Lily, who had always acted fairly mature for her age – she had received a day planner for her twelfth birthday, and had been absolutely tickled by the practicality of the gift. She would not claim to be the pinnacle of maturity, but to hear him speak like that irritated her.

She couldn’t help it. “Funny – I don’t remember you acting like a seventeen year old, ever.” Albus had always had the rod up his rear, making him act like thirty years older than he actually was. Lily swore she would have gotten up and left, would she have had anywhere to go that wasn’t family. And if she wasn’t smart enough to know that between all of the Weasleys and Potters and Lovegoods and Longobttoms that she would have been found. But how she would have loved to show Albus that she didn’t need him to be her guardian, or whatever.

It was a heartbreaking thought – but, it would have killed Ginny to see her children behaving like this.

She stood, ready to retreat to her room. Albus’ words stopped her, and she nodded, beginning to leave. She paused at the kitchen’s doorway “Thanks, Al.” And with that, she hurried down the hallway and closed her door behind her, staring at the room she would be calling home until she could escape all the way to Hogwarts.