Arcturus shifted absently under the covers as he read Muggle Disorders and Their Fantastical Remedies, completely engrossed in fascination. Rustle was curled up next to him on the covers - generally it wasn't allowed, but for all the rule abiding Arcturus was known for he still had the occasional "screw the rules" moment.

He was reading so intensely that he didn't hear his mother calling his name from downstairs until she was making her way up to his floor. In a bit of a panic, he first managed to trap his hand in the book when he abruptly shut it ("Fffffudge!") and then accidentally and rather spectacularly threw the book across the room while frantically shooing Rustle off his bed with it.

The door opened just as Arcturus was swinging his legs free of the covers to pick up the book from where it lay in a rather pathetic manner. He looked up to see his mother.

"What are you doing?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Please don't tell me you tripped over Rustle's tail or something."

"I, uh-- no, no I didn't." Arcturus glanced at Rustle, who was looking innocently at his mother with his tail curled around him, sitting alertly on his chair. "No. Sorry. I was just startled. When did you guys come back?"

"About five, ten minutes ago. I was calling you, didn't you hear me?" Lydia went over to the thrown book and picked it up before Arcturus could get it. "Were you so engrossed in your book again, you workaholic bookworm?"

"Ha." He took the book back from his mother and smoothed out a page that had the misfortune to get crushed under the book's weight. "Just Muggle stuff. You know it fascinates me."

"Ugh, I could teach you more about Muggles than wizarding books written by wide-eyed wizards and witches who have no clue on the culture." Lydia gave a disgusted sigh. "But I digress. How have you been today, dear?"

"Doing well, Mum." He caught his mother's look and added, "I'm not sarcastic, it went like any other day."

"You know it's hard to tell with your to--"

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Arcturus slipped his bookmark in between the pages he had been reading and shut the book. "I'm trying. Is Dad downstairs?"

His mother looked up from petting Rustle. "Yes, why?"

"Oh, I just need to tell you two something." Arcturus got up from his bed. "Just tell him to wait, I'd rather talk to you guys in the living room than the landing."

Lydia raised her eyebrows, but replied, "Okay then" and left his room. Arcturus sighed in relief and looked sideways at Rustle, who looked up at his owner with big eyes in the hopes of getting back onto his bed.

"Okay, you can hop on." The kneazle leapt on before he even managed to finish speaking. "But when I come back you're off, got it?"

Rustle mewed in agreement. Arcturus placed the book on his bedside table and padded downstairs barefooted.

The first sight that met his eyes when he entered the living room was his father. Mordecai was unbuttoning his waistcoat; he looked up and immediately made a face at his son's visage.

"Yes I sleep in jeans, stop that." Arcturus smiled half in amusement and half in annoyance; his father's face broke into an amused smile several seconds later. They both chuckled.

"How've you been, Arc?" Mordecai gave him a good-natured pat on the back. "It's been a while since we actually saw you outside of working hours."

"Yeah, I've been working late recently. It's always been that way." Arcturus watched his mother enter the room after her usual inspection of the kitchen. "Heard you two have been doing great so far - or have you?"

"Oh, I've been fine. The Ministry doesn't get many exciting things in my area and since I still have yet to broadcast the Office's call for staff I'm the one just handling the amount of paperwork that comes through." Mordecai sighed. "Travers did such a stupidly large amount of damage. His traces are like glitter - they get everywhere, and then years later you'll still find a bit left over."

Lydia giggled quietly. Arcturus shook his head in amusement. "Trust you to make a metaphor like that for a situation so serious."

"It lightens the workload," Mordecai replied lightly. "So, I heard from your mother that you've got something to say."

"Yep." Arcturus looked at both of them. "I want to move out."

There was a pause. He looked at the two of them again. "What? Why are you staring at me like that?"

"Where to?" asked Lydia, her famous eyebrow raised again. "This is very sudden news."

"Oh no, I don't have a place yet. I just want to move out because...well, look, I'm going to be thirty this month and I've had it up to here with people staring at me like I've gone mad when I tell them I still live with my parents."

"So?" Mordecai shrugged. "It's expensive to get housing in London. You do not want to know how long I took to find a place. This area is forty minutes from Central London and that's the time it takes for a Muggle to ride the Tube to here without stops!"

"I still keep getting questioned." Arcturus looked to the side. "People probably think I'm mooching off you guys."

"That's because they don't know you pay half the bills and even cook for us when you're not slogging away at St Mungo's," Lydia pointed out. "And your father's right. Are you sure you can find a place?"

"I'll be honest, I haven't actually looked yet," Arcturus confessed. "But I'll get to it. Sometimes I get proper lulls at work where I've got nothing to d--"

"If you can't find a place, you're welcome to stay here as long as you want." Mordecai undid the top button of his dress shirt. "Screw what other people say."

"I know, Dad. I've just been getting way too many looks and 'oh really, you live with your parents?' in the same tone of 'wow you are such a pathetic guy'. I'm tired of--"

"You don't have to listen to them," Mordecai snapped. "We're a family and whatever we do is not their business to deal with."

After several moments of silence, Arcturus said, "You're being unnecessarily aggressive on the topic, Dad."

"I've spent enough time being judged by others for what I do. It's none of their business and frankly I really don't have the time to correct them when they believe the things they see, not know." Mordecai scowled. "And I suggest you do the same."

"It's still not going to stop people from judging, though," replied his son. "And I'm tired of it. I'd just want some peace instead of having it as an awkward conversation obstacle."

"If they don't accept your lifestyle and choices, you can ditch them and move on from people who are that shallow," Mordecai retorted curtly.

Lydia sighed loudly, causing the two of them to look at her. She folded her arms and gave her husband a Look before turning to her son. "Arc, I'm sure that we both support your decision, and you have good reasons for making that decision. Mord, you're being a bit of a hypocrite by judging others, you know?"

"Just telling it like it is, Lydia," Mordecai muttered under his breath.

His wife gave him an all-out glare this time before turning to her son. "Just go to bed. We're all a bit tired; we can discuss this properly later on with some tips to help you. Go to bed, I'm sure you've got work tomorrow."

"I'm not on the morning shift tomo--"

"Go to bed," Lydia repeated, giving him a Look. He gave up. When his mother used a Look, there was no point pressing on.

Arcturus headed up to his room, but stopped outside his door and leaned on the handrail of the landing. He could hear his parents trudge up the stairs to their room and walk in. They always left the door half-open to air out the room before they went to bed, whether they were having a conversation or not.

"Seriously, Mord, he can make his own decision as to whether he wants to move out or not. It's not that he's too weak to deal with others, he's just had enough."

"He shouldn't let other people's opinions bother him so much, Lydia. It's not healthy for him, and he's already occasionally distant with us. Haven't you noticed he drifts away from us a little more every year?"

"Arc has some issues, but if he wants to come to us that's up to him, Mord." He heard his mother draw shut the curtains of their window. "If he doesn't want to talk to us, he probably has a reason why. Arc never does anything without a good reason, you know that."

"Moving out because he doesn't like being pestered over living with his parents doesn't really sound like a good reason to me."

"Maybe not something you would reason in his situation, Mord, but he's not you. You've had years of experience in hardening yourself up to people, he's just got off from the Battle of Hogwarts and trying to recover from it! At least you have the benefit of Occlumency, what has he got?"

There was a pause, and then Lydia spoke up again. Her tone was much quieter; Arcturus had to lean over the handrail to hear her.

"Why are you being so abrasive about this, Mord? It's odd to hear you sounding so agitated when you're usually supportive and willing to let him have his space."

For a few moments, there was silence. Then he heard his father sigh and speak in a softer, slightly resigned manner. "It's a hard thing to let one of your family members out of your sight after what happened to Allie."

"Oh, Mord." Lydia's tone was gentle. "I'm sure Arcturus can handle the outside world. He's not incompetent or stupid."

"That's what we thought about Allie too, Lydia."

The silence here was awkward and went on for a bit too long, in Arcturus' opinion. When someone spoke again, it was Lydia. "We don't know what the world will throw at him the same way it threw at Allie. She was in a situation she couldn't handle because she was outnumbered. It wasn't her fault that she couldn't get out of there alive. It wasn't your fault that she died."

"I know." Arcturus could hear the pain in his father's voice. "Knowing doesn't make it feel any better."

Lydia sighed again. "Look, let's just go to bed. We'll talk about this tomorrow, when we're all not tired." The door clicked shut.

Arcturus slipped away from the handrail noiselessly and entered his room. Rustle expectantly leapt off his bed and watched at his owner as he shut the door, crossed over to his bed and sat down.

He gazed at the carpeted floor unseeingly. As much as he had known his father too was recovering, he had never exactly known the severity. And he understood why his father would act that way to the news.

As he slipped under the covers, he looked up to see Rustle watching him, curled up at his usual place on the desk chair. Arcturus gestured to the kneazle and the feline perked up his head.

"Come on over here," he whispered. Rustle blinked at him, and then jumped down and padded over to the bedside before leaping up next to him. He did not sit down; he hovered about Arcturus as his tail twitched in uncertainty.

Arcturus reached out to scratch his head between his huge ears. Rustle rubbed his cheek against his hand. "Screw the rules, Rustle," he said softly. "I'll let you sleep on my chest this time, but don't you complain when I have to get up in the morning."

After a minute's consideration, the kneazle padded onto his chest and lay down, curling his tail around him. Arcturus switched the lamp off and smiled at the warmth and softness of Rustle's fur, stroking him lightly until he fell asleep from the mixture of catharsis, warmth and heartache.