Coming Home
"I thought you would enjoy it," Albus said, grinning sheepishly.
"It's perfect," Quinn said, her eyes finding his.
--Continued-- TW: alcohol consumption
He looked at her for a long time, everything about her seemed happy. She was smiling broadly and she clutched her presents tightly, but something was.. wrong.
"Are you okay," he said, taking a step toward her. His hand simultaneously rose, gently holding her arm, the cozy sweater material soft in his hand. He thought he saw her smile falter, just for a moment. It was so quick he began to wonder if he imagined it.
"Of course!" she said, a little too cheerily. She turned around suddenly, speaking to her bag. "Is there a way your parents could drop me off at my house? It's not too far from here."
"Yeah, of course." He took a step back, noticing for the first time how close they'd been. "I'll tell dad and he can get the car ready,"
A few moments later Quinn, Albus, Lily, and Mr. Potter were sitting silently outside a beautiful little yellow house, a cute white picket fence surrounding the well-manicured lawn.
"Bye guys! Thanks for the gifts and everything," Quinn said, climbing out of the car.
"See you at school!" Lily said cheerily.
Albus watched Quinn waving on the sidewalk as they drove away. He still felt like something was wrong.
"Don't worry," Lily said smirking, "You'll get to see her again in few days,"
He blushed faintly. Leaning towards Lily he whispered.
"Don't you think there may be something wrong with Quinn?"
Lily tilted her head in confusion. "No, Why?"
"I don't know.. just a feeling."
Quinn's hand dropped as the Potter's car rounded a corner. She sighed heavily, looking back at the beautiful little house behind her. She clenched her fist, the rough material of her backpack strap scrunching in her palm. Taking a deep breath she began walking quickly through the alley between the yellow house and its neighbor. A tall chain-link fence leered down at her as she entered the dingy side of the city. She took a running jump at the fence, grabbing tightly onto the links. The cold metal stung her hands as she clutched the fence. Gritting her teeth, she climbed the fence. She winced as a broken link snagged her shirt sleeve. She yanked her hand away, the edge of her sleeve ripping. She sighed in frustration as she swung her legs over the fence and dropped to the asphalt on the other side. She dusted off her pants and exited the alley. A tall apartment building towered over her. She looked up at the crumbling brick walls, the familiar fire escape stairs glinting in the noon sun. She snuck up the stairs, the steps rocking concerningly under her weight. She got to her bedroom window, crouched down, and tapped lightly on the glass. Immediately, her mother's concerned eyes appeared on the other side, her panicked breath clouding the glass. Her weary hands shook as she turned the latch and slid the window open.
"He's in the living room," She said quietly.
Quinn nodded, climbing swiftly through the window and tossing her backpack to the floor. Quinn crept across her room, the wooden floor creaking ominously in the dim light. She peered around the doorframe. Her uncle sat, slouched down in the sagging armchair, his grip slackened on a near-empty bottle of whiskey. Quinn held her breath as she crept silently forward. Her uncle's unshaven face was tilted forward, a sticky rope of drool pooling on his stained work shirt. She cautiously reached for the bottle, her fingers pressed against the cool glass. She flinched violently as his calloused fingers gripped her wrist. Her heart froze as she turned, her eyes meeting the red-rimmed eyes of her uncle.
"What do you think you're doing," he growled, his hot breath stinking of alcohol.