[TW: this'll get dark quick.]
Rain pounded the pavement. Alvin jumped down from the Knight Bus and flicked his
hood up, letting the dark grey fabric obscure his features as he made his way down the dilapidated street. It was some time in the early morning and Vin hadn't slept in over 36 hours, but he felt more awake, alive and alert than he had in a long time. Something was pulsing within him that rarely even surfaced during quidditch games. Some kind of primal instinct, fueled by adrenaline, turned his muddy brown eyes into sharp pin points and his hands into tight fists, clenched by his side.
Less than 36 hours ago, he'd been at Hogwarts. He'd been in classes, quidditch practice, preparing for a relaxing weekend of homework avoidance and reading about the latest Falmouth Falcons game. He was back on speaking terms with his mother and they'd planned to meet in Hogsmeade for a chat. He'd actually been looking forward to it, weirdly enough. But late Friday evening, his owl, Bludger, had brought him a letter. She'd been vague. Said she couldn't make it. Something was up, Vin knew that much. He'd sent Bludger back asking her what had happened. He didn't sleep that night.
Saturday morning Bludger was already back with her response. Emma hadn't said much, but Vin was old enough to read between the lines and something in his gut had told him...
Months ago he wouldn't have bothered. Months ago she was nothing to him. It was weird how things changed. He'd tried to shrug it off. Tried to tell himself it could wait... but something in her letter had been so fearful. He was down to go into Hogsmeade that day anyway, and it was easy to slip away and wait for the evening. Signal the bus that he'd heard other students talking about. They didn't even check whether he was of age or not and only hours later he was in Essex.
And the moment that she'd opened the door, untidy hair swept over her face in a pathetic attempt to hide the bruising... something had come over him. It was like a switch in his head. He'd been uncharacteristically silent while she'd talked - made excuses, avoided the subject. Vin already knew in his gut what had happened, and eventually Emma caved in and confirmed his suspicions.
She'd begged him to go back to Hogwarts. To act like nothing had happened. She'd told him that she could deal with this. Now that was a fucking joke. Vin had already made up his mind that he would deal with this. Not by ignoring it. Not by turning his back and walking away. Fuck that bastard. Fuck him. Fuck him.
Vin didn't care that it was past three am by the time he reached his brother's door. He didn't care that Darren would probably skin him alive. This needed taking care of. His
mother needed taking care of. And he wasn't going to rest until that bastard paid.