A/N: Hi, I'm going to get a little rant-y for a moment, so bear with me. I've now gotten a few anonymous reviews telling me how disgusting I am for writing about child abuse. So, let me debunk this really quickly. 1. I rated this T, because there is some minor cursing and violence. I don't think I let the abuse get too terrible, but I will gladly change the rating if it needs to be rated more heavily. 2. Abuse happens in real life all the time, and I personally feel that if we ignore it and act as if it doesn't happen, then there will be children all across the world in which we are doing a disservice. We should talk about these kind of difficult things, explore what they mean, and evoke compassion for these survivors. No one wants to see a child get abused, but writing about it is important because it brings the issue to light. I personally feel that, though I did make an abused Harry to begin with, I gave him a very very loving and wonderful home with his godfather and Remus after one chapter. I'll add a warning to the description of the story if the need be, but like with most things, if you don't like it, don't read it. So now that that has been said and done, here's the next chapter! Filled with teenage angst because why not? Also, warning, there is a bit more cursing in this chapter than in previous ones, so if that offends you for whatever reason, this might be a chapter to skip. Please read and review :)

The rest of the summer holidays flew by and before any of them knew it, they were going back to Hogwarts - for the first time in his life, Harry didn't want to return. The past three months events had really shaken him, and the thought of adding school stress on top of that seemed very difficult. The only thing consoling him about his upcoming departure was that Sirius, Remus, and his best friends would all be there with him.

A few days before they were to leave Grimmauld Place, Hogwarts letters arrived and with them, came an interesting surprise.

Harry's, which had been situated on his desk in Ron and his shared room, was thin and light. Harry opened it, scanned over the book list and shrugged, then pulled a smaller piece of parchment from the envelope. Written inside of it was a letter from Dumbledore, asking Harry to confirm meeting with him on Saturday evenings throughout the year for Order business. Harry knew it was coming; since learning occlumency, Dumbledore wanted to confide in Harry more about the horcruxes and Voldemort, so the boy would be prepared for the time he would have to finish the villain off. After reading through the short note and confirming the lesson times, he turned back to Ron, who had grabbed for his letter on the bed.

"They're loading us down with books for these OWLS, mate-" Harry began, but stopped himself at seeing his friend's gobsmacked expression. "What is it?"

"Blimey, Harry… I'm a… a prefect…" Ron said, still gaping at the badge in his hand like a fish out of water. "I thought for sure it would be you!"

Harry felt a sinking feeling inside of his stomach - he forgot that prefects were chosen in fifth year. "W-wow, mate. That's… it's…" Harry cleared his throat, and nodded. "It's brilliant. Congratulations."

Ron beamed at his friend. "Thanks! I'm going to go tell mum, she'll be thrilled!" Harry watched the back of his best friend leave the room, and placed his face in his hands. He didn't know why he felt so hurt about the position, but he did. If he had known the letter with the badge was coming, he knew he would have expected a different turn out.

Quit it, he told himself sternly, shaking his head and walking out of the room. This is your best mate, he deserves it. Ron's done plenty and he would be a great prefect, Harry knew it. With that, he followed his best friend downstairs to where Mrs. Weasley was now shrieking with delight.

"Oh, Ron, a prefect! That's everyone in the family!" She squealed, hugging her son tightly.

"What are Fred and I, next door neighbors?" George asks, causing Sirius, who was sitting to his left, to chuckle.

"Don't worry about it, being a prefect is overrated," Sirius said to the twins as Harry sat down. "James and I were never prefects either, we spent way too much time in detention."

Harry felt himself relax even more - his father nor his godfather had been prefects. He was able to smile and be genuinely happy for his friend on getting the position without feeling inadequate. He smiled even bigger when he discovered that Hermione had been chosen as well - he hugged her with vigor in congratulations when she walked over to him with the badge.


Later that evening, a party had been arranged for Ron and Hermione. Mrs. Weasley had gone to Diagon Alley immediately after breakfast to buy party supplies and get Ron a present for being a prefect - a new Cleansweep 2000.

Harry had been in good spirits all afternoon, feeling happy for his friends and excited about Ron's new broom - he wouldn't have to use the school brooms anymore when they practiced quidditch on the weekends at Hogwarts.

As the guests began to arrive for the party, Harry helped set the table with Mrs. Weasley, wanting his friends to have some time to enjoy themselves and also attempting to avoid his father - despite what he had said earlier about not being a prefect himself, Harry was worried his dad would be disappointed in him for not living up to the standard.

"Oh, I'm just so proud of him," Mrs. Weasley was saying to Harry as she mixed the pot of stew. "Bill, Charlie, and Percy were all guarantees for the position, but Ron was always so timid compared to the rest of them. Then, since going to Hogwarts, he had gotten into so much trouble - when he crashed that car into the Whomping Willow, I thought his prospects for prefect were destroyed! But I guess Dumbledore realized that you influenced him in some of that mischief making."

Harry felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. Mischief making? Is that what Mrs. Weasley called their attempts to save the school all these years?

Mrs. Weasley must have realized what Harry was thinking because she rushed to assure him. "Oh I don't blame you at all, Harry dear! Where would we be without you? Besides, boys are curious, it's no wonder you two have gotten into the situations you've been in. I'm proud of you too, you would have made a good prefect."

Harry smiled at her, but didn't say anything - he felt his good mood deflating a bit as he set the table, but he focused on the task at hand so he would be in good spirits for his friends.

The party was in full swing when Harry finally joined the group, grabbing a butterbeer from the table and sitting near Ron and Hermione, who were chatting animatedly with Tonks and Remus.

"I thought for sure Harry was going to be prefect," Ron was saying to Tonks. "But you know, he's gotten into so much trouble over the years, Dumbledore must have realized he wouldn't be the best role model for some eleven year olds, ay Harry?"

Ron's tone was joking, but Harry felt his good spirits dissolve even more. "I guess so," he mumbled through a grimace, doing his best to sound pleasant.

"I mean," Ron continued, laughing. "Went searching for the Sorcerer's Stone and The Chamber of Secrets? You'd have to be mental to do that stuff. Not to mention the whole Triwizard Tournament thing last year… looked pretty bad when your name came out of that goblet after all the precautions Dumbledore made, mate."

Harry swallowed the rest of his butterbeer down and excused himself abruptly from where he was seated. Hermione had begun a discussion with Remus a few minutes before Harry had sat down, so she didn't hear the conversation that her best friends had just had. Ron and Tonks, however, both watched him walk away, confused. "I'll go talk to him," said Ron, an amused expression on his face as he stood up.

As Harry left the room, he was stopped by his dad. "Hey pup, where are you going?"

"Bugger off," Harry mumbled, feeling his anger bubble up inside of him as he remembered Ron's words, not caring that he was mouthing off to his father for no reason other than to spite him - if Sirius was going to be disappointed in Harry for not being a prefect, he might as well play the part well, he reasoned.

Sirius was so taken aback by Harry's cold tone, that he didn't even think to scold him for the cheek. He stared after his son as he left the room, then turned to Ron incredulously, who was approaching him. "Don't worry, Sirius, I'll take care of him."

Sirius watched Ron walk out of the room, then he followed as well. He hadn't seen Harry's temper often, but he knew that Ron might not handle it correctly. Briefly, Sirius recalled the huge argument Ron and his son had gotten into at the start of the Triwizard Tournament, and resolved to listen to their conversation before stepping in and taking matters into his own hands.

Harry stood in a corner of the den, staring at a bookshelf by the fireplace, trying to ignore the burning feeling in his chest - he wasn't quite sure where the anger and resentment had come from, but it was there and attacking his body full force.

"Mate, what was that all about?" Ron asked, approaching Harry from behind.

"Nothing," Harry responded simply, even angrier that Ron had followed him.

"Come on, let's go back, mum's going to bring out stew soon." Ron suggested, moving to put a hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry shrugged it off.

"I don't want stew right now, thanks." Harry said, not moving his eyes from a book on elemental magic that was sticking out on the bookshelf.

"Mate? What's wrong?" Ron asked, confused.

"Bugger off, Ron! I don't need you rubbing your shitty prefect duties in my face." Harry said coldly, finally turning to face his best friend.

"Is that what it is to you, then?" Ron asked, becoming angry himself. "If I didn't know you so well, I'd think you were jealous. You wish you were a prefect, famous Harry Potter wants yet another title. Is the Boy-Who-Lived and Chosen One not good enough for you anymore? Well guess what, you can't cause trouble every year and expect to receive everything you want, now can you?"

"Trouble? Is that what you fucking called it when I was saving your sister's arse-"

"Harry James Potter!" Sirius said loudly, catching Harry off guard; he hadn't heard his father walk in, and it was rare that Sirius spoke to him like that. "Get upstairs to my room. Now."

Harry felt his heart beating fast as he walked up the steps to the third landing, his head hanging low in embarrassment. He was still angry, but some of that was ebbing away at his fear that his father was really angry with him - he had only gotten into trouble a handful of times since living with Sirius, surely Sirius wouldn't be that upset with a little yelling and cursing…

Sirius watched his son leave the room, and then turned to Ron. "I'll take it from here, Ron, you go enjoy the party."

Ron looked angry still, but Harry's last comment caught him off guard - he seemed slightly ashamed for calling Harry's heroism "trouble."

As Sirius followed Ron out of the den, Ron turned to him. "Don't get too mad at him, I kinda deserved it… I shot my mouth a little bit-"

"Don't worry about it, just go enjoy your party. You can talk to him tonight after I have if you still wish to." Sirius said in a stern tone as he turned and followed his son up the stairs.

Harry stepped in Sirius's room and paced a few times before he heard Sirius's steps approaching. He turned to face his father immediately as Sirius shut the door behind himself. He stood in front of Harry with his arms crossed, surveying his son. "What has gotten into you today?" He finally asked, trying to keep a stern voice, but feeling concern overtake him.

Harry slumped down, feeling very frustrated. "It's not fair." He finally mumbled, looking away.

"What? Life? Yeah you're right, but does that give you an excuse to behave the way you have been today? To mouth off at not only me, but your best mate?" Sirius asked, taking a step closer to Harry, but keeping enough distance so that Harry wouldn't feel threatened. Most of the habits from a life of abuse had stopped appearing since Harry had started living with Sirius, but he didn't want to cause the boy to relapse by scaring him.

Harry bowed his head. He looked ashamed. "You're right." He mumbled quietly.

"I know I am." Sirius said strictly, but curiosity won over his parenting instinct to discipline. He motioned for Harry to sit over on the bed. Harry obliged, and he sat down beside him. "What's got you bothered?"

Harry shrugged, and Sirius shook his head, adding sternly, "Harry, look at me and give me an honest answer."

Harry looked up at his dad with wide eyes - he wasn't used to this side of Sirius, and wasn't sure how to act. It was almost like starting over with his father, not knowing what to expect out of him, anger or understanding? It worried him a little bit. "It's just… I've contributed so much to Dumbledore's cause of fighting Voldemort and I didn't even want to - first year I saved the Sorcerer's Stone, second year I fought a Basilisk and saved Ginny, last year I…" Harry stopped and shook his head, trying to compose himself from the bad memories that were plaguing his mind. "But… he won't even make me a prefect. I know I caused trouble, but what would have happened if I hadn't? Voldemort would have been resurrected earlier than he had been, or Ginny would have- could have… It's just not fair, dad." He mumbled, burying his face in his hands.

"Harry, perhaps Dumbledore thought you had enough responsibility as it is? Prefect is a lot of work, do you really want to rally up first years all the time and tell them what to do or tell your friends to quit joking around? Doesn't seem like something you'd like; I know you and you enjoy having a bit of fun - telling kids like Fred and George off for playing pranks isn't something you would enjoy. Dumbledore gave you a very important mission, to lead a Defense Against the Dark Arts group teaching kids how to fight and protect themselves. To me, that seems like something right up your alley, something that you would love and pour your time and effort into. And what about quidditch? You're the star seeker for Gryffindor, you'll have to practice almost every day of the week! Dumbledore probably would have made you Team Captain if Angelina wasn't a seventh year. Add all this on top of your studies for your OWLs and private lessons with Dumbledore, do you really think you will have time to be a prefect?" Sirius asked, raising an eyebrow.

Harry gaped at his dad before looking back down at the floor and shaking his head. "No… I didn't think about it like that, I guess."

"No, you didn't." Sirius said, still keeping a stern demeanor. "And you owe Ron an apology… and me too, you hurt my feelings a bit when you told me to 'bugger off,' I might be traumatized." Sirius added the last part with a small smile in an attempt to make his son look less like a kicked puppy, but it didn't work - Harry looked more distressed.

"Ron's going to hate me… I tried to be happy for him this morning, I really did!" Harry exclaimed, standing up and pacing the room. "I congratulated him and everything, tried to be excited about the broom his mum bought him and the party… but Ron and Mrs. Weasley said that I had stirred up too much trouble to be a prefect and it just rubbed me the wrong way. Is that all it was to everyone? Me causing trouble? Because it didn't feel like that when I was seconds away from being choked to death by Professor Quirrel, or poisoned by a basilisk, or-"

Harry was cut off by his father hugging him, a gesture that he hadn't been prepared for at all. He had expected to be scolded further, sent to his room, not… comforted.

"Harry, stop talking like that." Sirius said gently, his cheek pressed against the top of his son's head. "No one thinks of what you have done like that; Ron was just running his mouth, you know he can be cheeky. I definitely don't think about it like that, and every time you mention that damn basilisk," he shuddered and shook his head. "My blood runs cold, I don't want to imagine you in that situation ever. If I had realized that his comment was what bothered you so much, I wouldn't have been so angry, I just thought you were mad about the prefect thing and being an arse to your best mate for no reason. I'm sorry."

"I mean, I wasn't exactly thrilled about it when I first found out I didn't get it, but you said that my dad and you weren't prefects so it quit bothering me, I was happy for them… until Ron said that and then I just lost it. I don't even know why I'm so mad all of the sudden," Harry mumbled, pulling away from his dad and sitting back on the edge of the bed. "My scar's still been hurting every now and then and I occasionally… feel really angry. I don't know how else to describe it."

Sirius swallowed nervously as he sat beside his son. He knew exactly why Harry was feeling this emotion, but he couldn't tell him - he wouldn't acknowledge the fact that Harry might be a horcrux, the idea was too horrid for the man to bear. "I don't really know why that is, pup. But what I do know is that you're a great person who has had to bear the weight of the world on your shoulders. You don't need to be a prefect at all, and I'm proud of you regardless. Shit, I might have been a little disappointed if you had become a prefect, what kind of Marauder discourages joking around and fun? Besides old Moony, of course."

Harry smiled at his dad and leaned into him as he felt the familiar arm snake around his shoulders. "I'm sorry, dad."

Sirius kissed the top of his son's head and nodded. "You're forgiven, but I might need to scourgify that mouth - I think you taught me a few new words tonight."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I get that from you."

Sirius chuckled and shook his head. "Your mother would tear me a new one for that if she was here... James would think it was hilarious until she did the same thing to him…"

After a moment of comfortable silence, Sirius sighed dejectedly, thinking of the last time he had to ground his son during the Triwizard Tournament, and how it resulted in Harry avoiding him for weeks. "I am going to have to ground you though. How about you spend tomorrow cleaning out the old library with me instead of going to Diagon Alley with everyone? I'll give Molly the money for your books and supplies."

Harry looked slightly indignant, but when he remembered the way he had yelled at Ron, he nodded reluctantly. "Yes, sir."

"Good lad," Sirius said, patting Harry's shoulder. "Now, let's go back downstairs and you can apologize to Ron."

The two walked back downstairs to rejoin the party, Harry feeling slightly better about the situation, and Sirius feeling significantly more distressed at another clue pointing to his son's fate as a potential horcrux.

A/N: So Harry's scar's still hurting and he's still feeling Voldemort's emotions, but he learned occlumecy. Why? Because occlumency keeps Voldemort from looking into Harry's mind, but does not prevent Harry from looking into Voldemort's, since he is a horcrux.