Why can't you be like your brothers?
Merlin, I-- Fuck. With a bloody capital F.
Mum asked me about the gravel in the turn-ups of my pants all casual-like. I tried to look innocent, asked her what gravel. She says all my trousers seem to have collected gravel in the turn-ups. And why have I got cuts on my palms, she asked. She asked while my dad was reading the Evening Prophet right there.
I said it's from the job. The job I had. I was about to head up to my room and leave it at that, but dad asked what job it was and why have I been keeping it from them. It's always trouble when my dad asks about things.
So I told the truth slowly. Told them the cuts on my hands where from using the shovel and the mallet. Mum looked confused in a mildly-concussed sort of way, but I saw dad's little snarl of disgust. He put the Prophet down slowly and asked what respectable job needed me to use crude muggle tools. I told him it was construction downtown. The muggle part of the city.
Then there was a lot of screaming and my dad got up his chair and screamed at my face. And I was yelling back. And mum was in the background pleading that we stop screaming. At one point I pulled out the muggle money in my pocket. Three pound notes and tried to explain the best I can that one muggle pound was equivalent to four galleons and we could stop living like termites if I saved for three months, but dad wasn't having any of it. Now the side of my face hurts from when he smacked me for giving him lip.
He said he'd drag me to the construction site tomorrow and make me quit. I told him I wasn't going to quit. This is my job. I told him I'm heading to bed. Got a big day tomorrow. A bloke at work's going to use the wrecking ball and I want to see what it does.
That pissed dad right off. Grabbed me by the back of the shirt, screaming. I couldn't make out what he was saying but he near screamed my ear off. Before I knew what was happening, I was flying out the door and sprawled on the street.
"Why can't you be like your brothers?" he yelled before storming back into the house. I just stared at him. My brothers are dead. He wants me dead instead of working with muggles.
There was mum, crying by the doorway. She blubbered that she'd send me my things soon. She blew me a kiss and shut the door. Good old mum.
And now...
Now I'm homeless, I suppose. With nothing but this rumpled trousers, a crummy shirt with a hole near the armpit and my wand.
I'm going to sleep. Big day tomorrow.