Living in London (A marauders era story)

4- Loneliness and Yellow Lighters.

Finn felt it again. That itching, burning feeling; creepying from the tips of his fingers to the top of his arm. Growing across his lips like he'd eaten something spicy and his tongue still burned. He could smell it in his own breath, the air around him feeling odly less fresh. Even without the cancerous stick between his fingers and lips. It was his vice, he'd be the first to admit- breathing in the sour smoke and exhailing it again, it calmed him.

Lily knew about it- his smoking, and she despised it. He knew her own friends smoked too, at school. Lily had often told her older brother about how she acted more like a teacher sometimes to her friends who would- at just 15- drink and smoke away in their 'common room' and the dorms.

To him, her friends sounded fun, much like his own at her age- yet something about Lily's happy smile despite her being the killjoy of most of her own tales made him think. She had good friends- ones that annoyed her endlessly yet loved her and whom she loved deeply all the same. Fin had never felt that kind of comradery.

His own school freinds had been a bad batch of boys, only good at kicking around a football and dossing about on the school yard. Spent their free time nicking ciggies from the near by corner shop after school then smoking under the town's one overpass. They were dull honestly, little boys thinking they were big and grown. While at home, Fin was the eldest of three- he did the dishes, walked the dog, made his room neat and tidy- tried to be in for curfews and was very rarely told off for his own wrong doing. Always the attempted peace maker between his waring younger sisters.

His parents payed enough attention- not as little as Petunia but, in their family if you weren't Lily, you weren't remotely interesting. Every owl-delivered letter that their parents recieved since Lily was off to school at 11, was a blessing. While every termly report card from Fin and Petunia's teachers seemed to fall by the way-side. Fin was always the good Evans child, while Lily was always the brilliant Evans and Petunia was the 'bad' sister. Fin knew his sister wasn't bad, she was just forgotten and perpetually bitter about it.

Fin had never really been one to feel the need to prove himself. He was always satisfied to stay average. After all, who needed another amazing child when Lily Evans was there to be the brightest star in their parent's sky?

She was always the priority and he was content to sit and watch as the supportive side character in her play. But then, he discovered his love for all things music. Hand him a guitar- electric or accustic- a bass, a pair of drum sticks and sit him before a kit and he was set. He had loved every score to every movie he'd ever watched. He had sat fascinated since he was a child, never know that beyond the flashing lights and big name actors- his little mind was actually tranfixed by the artestry of some truly marvellous composers.

By the time Finn was 18 he was a self taught muscian through and through- a guitarist who favoured his left-handed, metal strung, cherry-red, electric fender and a drummer with a bedrroom floor, full of passionatley broken drum sticks. It had been all he ever wanted to get into University in London. He was obsessed with bands like Queen who'd made a big splash in London's music scene. Coming from such a small, rural area with only really ever his sisters for company- he was ready- itching to leave home.

But standing there in that car park. At the entrance to the buidling that would now be his home for the next year, it was admittely daunting. Like staring into the gaping mouth of a beautiful yet terrifying beast. Fin felt small for the first time- despite being nearly 6'2 and towering over the rest of his family- he felt like it would swallow him up any second now.