Home (Is Where The Heart Is) [a Deamus fanfiction]

Chapter 2

"DEAN! For God's sake, WHERE ARE YOU?" a voice shouted from the kitchen.
Dean Thomas sighed, pulled his headphones off and entered the obnoxiously busy room to face his more-than-slightly stressed mother. He couldn't deny that it freaked him out a bit, having all those people in his house, talking and laughing and eating their food and celebrating and taking up every last ounce of air left. He'd felt a little suffocated ever since their door had opened for the first car full of relatives.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT?" he barked once he had entered the kitchen, trying to make himself heard above his sibling's loud voices and the hysterical laughter of his - severely drunk - aunts. Because this failed spectacularly, Dean began making his way through the various members of his family, trying to get a good view of his mum, who had somehow disappeared. Luckily enough, he spotted her quite soon; she was busy standing in front of the refrigerator, looking kind of lost.

Dean almost smiled. It was a good thing he'd grown several inches in the past two years; otherwise, he would've gotten swallowed by the crowd of people in here, trying to make more room for themselves and taking up every last nook and cranny.

"I forgot to buy milk, and we just ran out; would you do me the favour?" his mum called out, giving him a Come-on-you-were-always-the-good-boy-look once she had spotted him behind a bunch of his younger cousins. Dean sighed again, pondering about his options quickly. He could either stay here, in a house which was way too full and loud, blasting music out of his earphones loud enough to make him think his ears were going to fall off, and all of it in a desperate attempt to drown out the noise, or he could walk around the dark, snowy, blissfully lonesome streets of London to make a trip to the store.

It wasn't a hard choice, really.

"FINE," he yelled back, flashing his mum a thumbs-up in case she hadn't heard, and then turned around to get the hell out of there. The thought of getting some alone time, with nothing but the peacefully glittering snow and the icy wind that cut down to your bones to keep him company, made Dean's heartbeat quicken in anticipation. He would even have enough space to stretch out both his arms without hitting someone in the face, and it was that realisation that made him walk faster, pushing his seven-year-old sister Annie out of the way and shoving through a group of his merrily chatting uncles to go put his coat on.

"WHY IS DEAN GOING OUT MUMMY?! WHY IS HE GOING OUT WHEN I'M NOT?!" his younger sister Jazmyn screamed. Dean almost dropped the wallet he'd been stuffing into his pocket, covering his ears with his hands. His sister's screaming was the most ear-piercing sound in the whole wide world. Really, the obnoxious cries emerging from Harry's Golden Egg when he had tried to solve the riddle for the second task in the Triwizard Tournament during their fourth year were a pure symphony compared to that.

"OH, SHUT UP!!" he yelled, slamming the door shut behind him before he could get in trouble for swearing. Silence surrounded him immediately, and for the first time in days, Dean felt himself relax.

He had, as impressively proven, grown so uncomfortable, feeling so on edge at all times, that he didn't even stop to think for a second before he had screamed at his baby sister. To calm his guilty mind down, he made a mental note to get her some chocolate.

Dean let out another sigh - but this time a thankful one - and started walking down the street towards the 24/7-shop nearby.

It was really exhausting to live in a family like his. He had two older and four younger sisters, three older brothers and about a hundred cousins, who of course had all chosen the same holiday to make the obligatory once-a-year visit. And that happened to be Christmas.

Bloody hell, what even was so exciting about Christmas? Dean had never quite understood the turmoil people loved to make. To him, Christmas meant peace and quiet and tons of snow. He would've been perfectly fine if he could've just stayed in his room, paint, eat some candy and maybe, if he was feeling productive, watch a movie at night. He didn't need any company.