This was inspired by Simple Plan's "Perfect". It's a really great song. Look it up if you haven't heard it. Just a little fic about Sirius' dad as he grows up.

Disclaimer: I clearly don't own Simple Plan or Harry Potter. Wish I did. But I don't.

Warning: A little sad. Poor Sirius.

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"Hey dad, look at me

Think back and talk to me

Did I grow up according to plan?

And do you think I'm wasting my time doing things I wanna do?

But it hurts when you disapprove all along."

Eleven year old Sirius Black looked up at his dad happily. They stood together on the platform to get to Hogwarts. First year, Sirius thought. This will be the best year of my life.

"I'll make you proud, Daddy," Sirius promised. "I'll make friends and prank students and make Peeves wish he'd never messed with me!"

Sirius' stern-looking dad viewed Sirius for a moment before breaking into an uncharacteristic grin that seemed to clash with the very structure of his face. "Don't forget about schoolwork," he said lightly, knowing his words were fruitless. He gave his son a pat on the back. "Say hello to Lucius for me."

"Yes, Daddy," Sirius said obediently. He blinked at his dad and tried to imagine surviving a year without him.

"Owl me when you get into Slytherin," his dad said.

"Yes, Daddy. Those Slytherins won't know what hit them with me in there," the little voice said enthusiastically. His dad smiled again and his eyes twinkled.

"Have a nice year, Sirius. Be good," his dad's voice said. But his eyes said I'll miss you. Sirius' eyes transmitted the same message and it was bittersweet when he boarded the train and waved goodbye to his dad, the only person in the Black household who seemed to love him.

Sirius was looking forward to owling his father and telling him all about his adventures amongst the Slytherins, of making unlikely friends, and pranking his fellow house-members.

But he didn't ever get the chance. The stupid Sorting Hat sorted him wrong. It put him in the worst house…Gryffindor.

Daddy won't mind, Sirius chanted in his head. I'll still make friends and say hi to Lucius and "be good"…he'll still love me. It's what Dads do.

So he sent an owl to his dad telling him about his life in Gryffindor and his best friend, James Potter. He was a fellow prankster! Surely his dad would appreciate that.

He never got an owl back.

When first year ended and Sirius returned home for the summer, he was incredibly excited. He wanted to see his daddy. When he saw him standing on the platform, Sirius ran up to him. "Daddy!" he cried happily.

Sirius hugged him gleefully, just glad to see the man's face again. He felt his dad tense under his arms, but he hugged him back tentatively. "Hello, Sirius," he said flatly.

Sirius pulled away. "Dad, I missed you. You never wrote me back. I made so many friends! I love Hogwarts."

"What happened, Sirius? I thought you were going to stick to our plan. Be in Slytherin. Make friends there."

"I was, Dad. But the Sorting Hat…and then the Slytherins didn't like me. They wouldn't talk to me," the boy explained sadly. "But I knew you would still talk to me," he added confidently. He saw his dad hesitate and flinch. "Dad…you still love me, right?"

His dad's face hardened but his eyes still twinkled when they saw Sirius' expectant face. "I'll always love you, son."

Sirius was appeased and didn't notice his dad's painful grimace as he side-long apparated home.

It was a difficult summer in the Black house that year. Living with his family had never been this difficult. They all kept muttering about him being a traitor. Sirius was confused. But Daddy still loved him. He always would. So why is he so cold to me?

His mother had never loved him like his father did. His dad recognized his son's mischievous spirit in himself. He had always laughed when, in Sirius' early years, he'd pranked his cousins. But now whenever he charmed someone's hair to grow at an unnatural rate or transfigured their hands into sparklers, his dad would chuckle and then stop abruptly, leaving with room with a stony expression on his face.

Sirius felt a gnawing pain in his chest. Second year passed in the same manner. His dad didn't owl him. Not once.

That summer when his mum had gotten mad at him and threatened to lock him in his room for a week, his dad didn't fight passionately on his son's behalf, as he used to. All he'd said was, "He's still a child, Walburga. Leave him be."

Summer of third year his dad didn't even do that for him. He just looked at him with a sadness that quickly transformed into indifference and walked past the scene without comment. Sirius was locked in his room a lot that summer. He'd never felt so lost.

Fourth year came and left. He owled his dad with exciting news about his good friend Remus Lupin and asked if he could go to his house for a few weeks over the summer. For the first time in his Hogwarts life, his dad responded. But the anticipation Sirius felt when he saw the letter was in vain. Only a few words were scrawled in his father's elegant writing.

Your mother wants you to stay home. You will do as she wishes.

A little crack etched itself on Sirius' heart when he read that. His dad was displeased with him. He would have to make him proud. He had to do something.

So that summer he behaved impeccably. He didn't playfully torment any of his crazy, incestuous relatives. He didn't antagonize his mother, the craziest of them all. He spent a lot of time in the Black Family library, sitting next to his dad in an oddly tense silence.

"Dad?" he said hesitantly. He looked at him nervously. His dad looked at him and composed his face into an expressionless mask.

"Yes?"

Sirius bit his lip, which had started to quiver. "Dad, I'm sorry."

His dad's mask slipped. He looked at his son strangely. "Sorry? Why?"

Sirius looked at his dad and almost cried. "For disappointing you. I've done something wrong, haven't I?" I must have. You don't love me anymore, he thought.

These words brought a pained expression to his dad's face. He started to say something, and then stopped. "Blacks don't apologize," he said stoically, looking away from his son decisively.

Sirius looked at his dad for a few more moments, waiting for something that would never come. He left the room after that, disheartened and thoroughly broken.

Fifth year was painful for Sirius, in every way. He almost ruined his friendship with Remus because of his stupid lapse in judgment and overconfidence. He was lucky Remus hadn't struck him down with vengeance the next full moon. He'd certainly deserved it.

That summer was the worst of Sirius' life. His father wouldn't look him in the eye anymore. Sirius ignored the pain in his heart. What happened to the happy days when he and his dad had been an unstoppable team of mischief? What happened to his protector?

His dad never saved him from his mum anymore. He faced abuse from all corners of the Black House, except from the one his father had retreated to.

That changed this summer.

Sirius had given up trying to please his father. He pranked his cousins because he didn't have anything else to do. His brother hated him. His mother hated him. His absurd family hated him. And his father… didn't love him.

But he hadn't begun to think his dad hated him until one afternoon after he created an invisible patch of ice in the entrance hall. His mum slipped on it and fell down (rather comically, in Sirius' opinion).

His dad, who had watched the display with a sort of detached amusement, saw the expression on his wife's face and then looked at his son. Sirius looked back at his father, waiting to see what he would do. Insincere scolding was a thing of the past. That was reserved for times when his dad had loved him.

The man approached his son with a look of loathing, both for himself and the boy in front of him. He raised his arm and struck Sirius. It was the first time Sirius had ever been hit by one of his parents. And it was by the one person he loved in the whole house.

His hero.

Sirius lost it.

"I bet you've been waiting to do that, eh, Father?" he said quietly. He had never addressed his dad so formally. "Ever since I broke free of the 'Plan'."

His dad seemed incapable of words. He looked away. "All I've ever done is try to make you proud," Sirius said, his voice breaking. "After I got sorted into Gryffindor I knew I would have to work extra hard to make you understand I was still the same boy. I thought you would see that."

Now his dad spoke up. "You're not the same," he said tensely. He didn't look at Sirius, who was now bleeding from a small cut where his ring had broken the skin. "You've disgraced our name. You're not a Black anymore."

The words cut through Sirius and hurt him more than a Cruciatus Curse, which he had suffered before at the hands of his mother. His father still refused to face him properly.

"I'm the same as I've always been. You can't change me. But I'm never going to be good enough for you, am I?"

His dad stared resolutely at the side wall.

"Hey, Dad, look at me. Think back," Sirius said softly. "Remember all those times when we would gang up on Reg or Aunt Eileen? Remember all those times we would laugh without you reminding yourself I was a blood traitor? Remember back when you could look me in the eye? I used to be able to talk to you. You would stand up for me." He paused.

"Did you know you used to be my hero?" Sirius let the words hang in the air. "But it's too late. Nothing lasts forever. Not even a father's love."

His dad's dark eyes looked tormented in the dim lighting. He looked into his son's matching eyes. "I can't stand another fight," he muttered. He seemed to waver, seeing the pain in his favorite son's eyes. But then coldness crept back over his heart. "You can't stay here the way you are," he said, his voice devoid of all emotion.

Sirius felt the hole in his chest enlarge to unbearable proportions. "Please don't turn your back on me," he pleaded, his eyes wide and his body shaking.

"It's too late," his dad said quietly. He turned around and started to walk away.

Sirius went upstairs and packed his clothes into his trunk haphazardly, his mind fizzy and out of focus. When he came downstairs he saw his dad in the entryway, pacing and looking generally unhappy. The man's mind was plagued with guilt and indecision. He heard Sirius descend the stairs and looked up. His eyes were conflicted. His eyes were always the only part of Sirius' dad that ever showed genuine emotion.

"Sirius, maybe we—maybe we could fix things," he started to say with difficultly.

Sirius just looked at him. His eyes, too, betrayed him. They were the eyes of a tortured, lonely boy. "You said you'd always love me," was all he said.

His dad could only watch as his son tugged his trunk along and waved away the invisible ice with his wand. Sirius stopped by the front door and turned back to face the man who raised him.

"I'm sorry I can't be perfect," he whispered.

He stepped out the door, leaving behind forever the father who still loved him.