Not Everyone Wants to Go Home SOLO

The train screeched to a halt, the air filled with laughter, excited chatter and the scraping of trunks dragged against the floor. Here they were - back at King’s Cross. Joseph groaned, reluctantly heaving his trunk onto his lap. His feet remained stubbornly planted to the floor, refusing to budge. He clutched Astra to his chest, as though worried she might leap out of the window and roll all the way back to Hogwarts if he were to let go. Not that he could blame her if she did. Back in Hogwarts there were appetizing feasts, secret passageways, an endless tome of books and at least three people who didn’t find him entirely useless - three more than he could say for at home.

Joseph truly, really, absolutely did not want to go home.

But here he was, Astra in hand, trunk miraculously packed, all set to return to another dreadful summer. Oh boy, wasn’t he thrilled. Biting back another sigh, Joseph limped out of the carriage, the weight from his trunk threatening to send him reeling any moment now.

He spotted his brother almost instantly. Tall and lanky, his head shrouded in a wild undergrowth of thick, brown hair that must have been a premium playground for any breed of lice. Nikolas glanced down at his watch distractedly, chewing something that looked like a cross-breed between a licorice wand and a dried snakelet. Joseph wouldn’t have been surprised if it was the latter.

He scowled, approaching Nikolas with feigned enthusiasm. Nothing could have dampened his spirits as much as seeing his face.

“Hi,” he muttered, letting his trunk fall to the ground with a resounding thud. If Nikolas was excited to see his younger brother, he didn’t show it. His gaze flickered over to Joseph before yawning, dusting some non-existent dirt off his robes.

“Hewo,” he replied, with as much enthusiasm as someone forced to sit through a dreary History of Magic lesson. He spit out the stick he’d been happily munching on, eyeing Joseph with evident distaste. Like Joseph’s presence alone had sapped all the flavour out of his stick. “Dad made me come pick you up,” he said, his tone laced with irritation. He uttered the last three words as if he had been tasked to dance with a grimy pig.

“Thanks for bothering to come, anyways,” Joseph mumbled, looking away pointedly. He knew that to Nikolas there was probably no less productive way of spending time than standing by the platform waiting for a disgrace of a brother to show up.

“Thank your father,” he spat, which was probably the closest Joseph would ever get to a "you're welcome". "Wouldn't have come if he hadn't insisted. Wouldn't mind letting you rot here for all I care. Ooh, what's that?"

Joseph barely had time to process his words before his pet rock was wrenched from his grasp. Nikolas smirked, holding up Astra like one of those beetles he'd pluck from the shrubs and torment when they were younger.

He had to use every ounce of his willpower to restrain the guttural cry ripping his way up his throat.

"Give her back," he hissed, lunging at Nikolas. The older brother sidestepped with practiced ease, leaving the young Hufflepuff to wipe the gravel off his knees as he climbed to a squatting position.

"Is this what they teach at Hogwarts now?" Nikolas guffawed, giving the rock friend a sharp jab. "Care for stupid pebbles? Or whatever this ridiculous deformity is called," he drawled, holding Astra closer to examine its orb-like eyes.

Joseph didn't realise it was possible to loathe someone this much.
"Astra. Is. Not. Stupid." He growled, eyes shining with indignance. If only there some way to claw that smug look off his face.

Nikolas scoffed, not even sparing Joseph a glance. "Awww, it has a name now? That's sooo sweet. Your affection for this little rock is so endearing." He whistled, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Here you go," he said, dropping Astra without a look. "Take your pesky lil rock. Let's go now. Can't stand being around these filthy mudbloods." Nikolas shot a dismissive nod towards a cluster of other students wrapped tightly in hugs with their parents, before striding away without bothering to check whether Joseph was following.

Seething with rage, Joseph grit his teeth, reaching out to grab Astra. Nikolas might be pulling the strings now, but not forever. One day it'd be his turn. And his brother will utterly regret everything he had ever done.

Continued in: A Boy Called Traitor