Bitter

"Happy birthday." Lupin said unenthusiastically, though he seemed to be making an attempt at being cheerful. The full moon probably had him feeling off.

"Imagine that. 16 years, about 7 assassination attempts, and I'm still here." He said yawning.

"You would think that birthdays would be a bit more monumental for you then."

"Yeah, well after my ninth coat hanger, it got to be too depressing to keep hoping for a nice birthday, so I've just stopped recognizing the day.

"When do you usually get your presents, anyway?"

"I don't care." He said, nonchalantly. But it was a bit strange that they hadn't come at their regular time of 12:00 O'clock midnight.

"Do you want mine now?"

His stomach unexplainably dropped a bit. Lupin had gotten him something?

"I didn't want anything. I told you that!" he commanded firmly.

"Yeah, I figured you wouldn't. I don't think you'll mind it though."

"I really don't want anything." His voice was a bit less offensive, but it still held resolve.

"At least open it. If you don't want it, I wont force you to keep it."

It was wrapped in plain blue paper, and it was a very inconspicuous shape; it looked like a box that held clothes.

He looked over at Lupin for a second with suspicious eyes. He guessed that it wasn't clothes, since Remus had absolutely no idea what clothes sense was, and knew nothing he picked out for him would be appreciated.

He ripped the paper off the top of it and was met with a white box. He pulled the lid off and stared at it blankly. He looked up at Lupin, who looked sheepish and shrugged. "Try it on."

He looked at it in the box. Lupin stood up, and walked over to stand next to him. He followed suit, almost meeting his eyes height wise. He pushed the box away and it fell to the floor. Lupin tried to stop him from moving from the room, but he pushed past him and walked out the back door.

"Harry! Come back."

Pausing at the woods he looked back to see if he was being followed, but he wasn't. It was way to close to the moon's rising for him to go running out chasing after him.

He breathed in and out deeply for a few minutes, making sure he was completely hidden from sight in the trees, then he sunk down the tree and sat in between the roots, crossing his legs with his elbows on his knees, then he dug his hands far into his now longish hair.

He tried to contain himself, realizing how completely pathetic he was being. It was just a gift. A stupid gift. It just happened to be something that Sirius was fond of wearing, didn't mean a thing. He shouldn't have reacted that way. Lupin would think that he was weak and couldn't handle himself. He just couldn't go back in there though. Not after that display.

No, it was his birthday. Might as well make the most of it.

"Wake the hell up you prat!"

"Ron?" he muttered.

"Who else do you know who says prat?"

He laughed, then reached out his arm, and felt a hand grab it and pull him up. "Just don't talk so bloody loud." He said.

"Bloody hell there is a lot of bottles here."

"Yeah, well, I'm growing a bit too tolerant, I guess."

"You don't want Lupin to hear you up. He's fucking pissed."

It was the first time he had ever heard Ron curse so flavorfully.

He smirked, then he sat up. "Got to deal with it sometime."

He walked into the kitchen and noticed that Lupin was sitting across from Mrs. Weasley, looking like he had just got over a bout of pneumonia.

Lupin turned towards him and closed his eyes, looking like he was counting to ten.

Mrs. Weasley, however, turned towards him and openly glared at him.

"What in Gods name where you thinking!?" she started getting to her feet. With his growth over the last two summers he towered over her. He hid a cringe, as her high-pitched voice rung in his ears.

"I dunno." He said tiredly. He wasn't too pleased with Mrs. Weasley right now, and he didn't want to get into it with her.

"Do you know how stupid you acted?" she asked him, her voice loud and furious.

"No, but I have an idea that you'll tell me anyway." He said sarcastically.

"Don't talk to my mother like that mate." Ron said from behind him sounding territorial.

"If I were your mother…"

"You aren't." he said quickly and quietly.

She looked taken aback for a moment. "Be that as it may-"

"No! You aren't my mother. And Lupin isn't my father, and neither is Mr. Weasley! You all think you have some sort of claim over me? Well you don't!" he said firmly, his voice rising as he gained momentum. He was still a bit woozily from his hangover, but he ignored it.

"And thank god! What you've turned into, I would be ashamed to call you my son."

"Yeah, well, now I'm no one's fucking son, am I?" he hollered back.

Ron turned him around and looked down at him, still half a head taller then him. "You raise your voice again I'll tear out your fucking voice box." He threatened.

"Back the hell off me, goddamn it."

He turned back towards Mrs. Weasley.

"You have seven fucking children! Leave me the hell alone!"

Before he could he duck, he was slapped firmly across the face. He blamed his reflexes on his hangover.

His face steadily turned red until it matched the hand imprint on his left cheek. Mrs. Weasley looked at him with fury. Even as though she might do it again. Lupin looked shocked.

He spoke calmly, clearly, and tensely. "You stay the fuck away from me. All of you. I don't want to speak to you, I don't want to see you, I don't even want to acknowledge you. Just stay the fuck out of my way."

And with that, and the slam of the back door, he severed all relations with the Weasley family… and the person he used to be.

AN: Okay, so it's been a while. Kay, maybe a bit longer then a while. I did give you an exceptionally long chapter of PoL though, so don't go at me about that. No, I haven't dropped off the planet. I'm working steadily on it. It's just a very tense scene that I'm on right now, and I've erased about four hundred words of it because it was turning out shitty and redundant. Sorry. A teaser should be up soon though.