A Most Cliché Betrayal

Harry then turned and stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him for effect.

Turning around, he found himself facing three appalled individuals, extendable ears shamelessly held in their hands.

Ron was the first to speak, his face slightly red.

"Are you bloody well, insane? Did you just tell Albus Dumbledore to...to..."

Harry stared at him silently. Everything was quiet for a moment as Hermione and Ginny nervously looked between the two boys.

"Well?" Ron prompted.

"Well what?" Harry asked, playing stupid.

"What was that about?"

"What was what about?"

"Harry!" Ron stepped up to him threateningly, using his 6ft height for an intimidating appearance. Harry had to hold in a laugh. He just took out a snake demon three times the size of him a week ago. "I don't know what your problem is but you better knock it off."

"What are you talking about?"

"You! This tough-guy look. How you just told our Headmaster to 'fuck off'. How you only really talked to my brothers. How you blew us off!" he finished with a shout. Hermione put an arm on Ron's arm to calm him down. "Where did this...this arrogance come from?"

Harry only focused on one piece of the spiel at a time, "And when did I blow you off?"

"You didn't answer my letter!"

"What the hell!" Harry exploded. "Weren't you listening? That manipulative bastard took Hedwig—I never got any letters. You want to talk about arrogance? Dumbledore has done nothing but strong-arm me into his plans time and time again. That's what bullies do, Ron. They take things from you while telling you there's nothing you can do about it. I'm not putting up with it any more."

Ron oddly seemed to deflate after Harry's tirade, but a hint of animosity remained evident in the hard look he continued to give Harry.

"Harry, don't call Dumbledore that," Hermione said patiently. "He's only trying to protect you."

"Yeah, trying and failing. I'll call him whatever the hell I want. Shit—it's like he wants me to turn into the next dark lord..."

"Okay, I understand you're pissed, but can you lose the attitude?" said Ginny in a cool tone. "Stop acting like you're all that just because you got some piercings and a new look."

Harry leaned down towards her and replied softly, "If it bothers you that much—stay away from me."

"What's really going on Harry?" Hermione asked. She didn't want to pick sides but she honestly felt Harry was going too far with this. Nobody should defy Dumbledore like that. Not after everything he'd done for them. "We know something's up. The Order claims you never leave the house but you show up here with all these new clothes, a new disposition, and a cell phone of all things! Who were you talking to? You don't know any muggles, do you?"

Harry could tell by the expression on her face that she had been holding this question in for the whole day.

"I guess you could say, the Order has been slacking. And I do live in a muggle neighborhood, incase you haven't noticed."

"You could have at least talked to us today!" Hermione continued, even though she felt there was something off about Harry's answer. "We haven't seen you all summer!"

"You should listen to your friends, Harry," Dumbledore spoke, walking up behind him.

Harry felt the beginnings of a headache press against his temples. He had gotten far too used to venting his anger on demons. That was how he grieved: by destroying things. He found himself itching to kill something, and it scared him. It was almost uncontrollable. Granted he could never bring himself to kill a human as Voldemort could, but still, homicidal urges were not a good thing. Since there were no demons around, he was only left with one option. Escape before something disastrous happened.

He pushed his way past Ron, swearing up a storm, and marched up the stairs, not caring how much noise he made.

"Well, at least he isn't shouting this year..." he heard Hermione trail. Harry stopped around the corner and stared intently at the floor where his friends and Dumbledore stood. His glasses gave him a clear enough view to see Ron was shaking his head.

"Hermione, look at him, listen to him. He's acting like a bloody slytherin," Ron scoffed, clearly stung by how unrecognizable his friend had become. "All conceited and distant. Maybe it's a good thing he wasn't inducted into the Order...at least we'll have one up on him if he does turn."

"Now, now, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore appeased sagely. "I only allowed you three in the Order so early so that you can keep an eye on Mr. Potter. That is your only purpose. Anything else and your mother would have my head."

"No offense sir, but how can we help him if he won't interact with us?" Ginny asked.

He saw Hermione nod in agreement, worry etched across her forehead.

"I was worried about that myself," she said.

That was all Harry could bring himself to hear. He continued his journey to the bedroom he slept in last year. Crossing the room to the only window, he slid it open and climbed onto the roof.

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Back in the kitchen, the remaining Weasley's along with Mad-eye and Tonks waited for their esteemed leader and wonder boy to return from their talk.

"I swear," Molly Weasley spoke with indignation. "I don't know what has gotten into that boy! He was such a shy, sweet child..."

Bill patted his venting mother on the shoulder, biting his lip to keep down his smile, "It's alright, mum. I'm pretty sure it's just a rebellious teenager phase. It'll pass in a few years."

George stared at his eldest brother, "You never grew out of yours."

Neither statement did anything to alleviate Mrs. Weasley. Tonk's seemed to agree with the boys.

"I like him even more now," she said. "He was a bit moody last year, don't ya think? Now he seems to have the bite to back up his bark. And he looks good."

"Yeah, hasn't bitched anyone out yet," Fred threw in. "Except for Dumbledore, really. But that's hilarious."

"Yes. We'll be able to tell our children that we were present when the great Albus Dumbledore got owned by a teenager," George supplied, staring dreamily into space. "A moment in history few were able to witness."

"Enough you two," Molly snapped.

Just then Ron, Hermione, and Ginny walked back into the kitchen, shortly followed by Dumbledore.

"Where's Harry?" Mr. Weasley asked. Ron grimaced.

"He ran off somewhere upstairs—" he looked like he had wanted to say more but a stern look from the Headmaster stopped him.

"Can you be so kind as to pinpoint him for us, Alaster?" Dumbledore asked thinly.

Mad-eye rolled his magic eye upward and glared at the ceiling.

"On the roof," he said with a hint of mirth, a bit of a grin moved his grisly features. "...smoking."

"What?" Hermione and Mrs. Weasley shouted at the same time as Ginny's mouth dropped open. Dumbledore's eyebrows raised and Ron glowered amidst rapid blinking.

"Harry doesn't smoke!" Hermione cried, distressed. She suddenly gave Mad-eye an accusing glare as if he were lying.

"Leave him alone mum," George said to his mother as she started her way out of the kitchen. "If it's his choice—"

"Oh no! Not this time! This is too far—smoking! On the roof! Of all things!"

Mrs. Weasley stormed out of the kitchen muttering all the things she was going to say to that boy.

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Harry closed his eyes and blew smoke out of his nose and mouth. The stress of the day's events flowed out of him in the usual, weightless manner he had become accustomed to. He didn't expect it to be so hard to be around his friends after growing into his new lifestyle.

If he could even call them friends anymore.

Harry could feel a bubbling rage at their small betrayal and quickly took another drag.

Dumbledore was using them to spy on him...and they agreed. The man may have spun it so that they were under the impression that it was for his benefit, but still...

They agreed.

Harry blew out more smoke. He would be the first to admit that he could have handled his little tête-à-tête with Dumbledore better; he really did have to work on his temper. His aggression also bothered him. While he found it increasingly difficult to be around people in general, it was no excuse for the way he reacted to any negative stimulus today and he was starting to regret it.

He had been pretty blunt in most of his responses and he was a little rude, a most uncalled for way to express gratitude to the people who just threw a birthday party for him. It was no wonder many of the Order members were acting weary around him. He resolved to apologize to Mrs. Weasley later.

"Harry James Potter!" Harry jumped slightly, cursing himself for getting lost in his thoughts and not pay close enough attention to his surroundings. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked over to the window he climbed out of. The cigarette almost fell out of his mouth as he spotted Mrs. Weasley's head stuck out the window, watching him furiously.

"You get in here this instant! And put that bloody thing out!"

Harry gulped. He knew he was in trouble if Molly Weasley was swearing.

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"OF ALL THE IRRISPONSIBLE, STUPID THINGS TO DO—THE ROOF OF ALL PLACES—SMOKING!—AS IF WE DIDN'T WORRY ABOUT YOUR HEALTH AS IT IS—!"

Harry grimaced. The shouts of Mrs. Weasley bounced along the walls and down the hall, filling the dismal house with her heated voice. Not even Mrs. Black, who had yet to make a sound since her "make over", dared to attempt to shout over her.

"—COULD HAVE SLIPPED AND FELL—NEVER IN ALL MY YEARS—"

Harry stared at the floor, pretending to look ashamed while he focused on the kitchen downstairs. He saw Hermione sitting in a chair, looking completely shocked if not somewhat satisfied at hearing him being reprimanded; Ron was next to her, holding a similar air of both gratification and bewilderment. Bill, Tonks and the twins were falling over each other laughing. Dumbledore was listening to the rant, a disappointed look on his face, while Moody stood in a corner seeming highly amused.

"—AND JUST WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF?" she finished, nostrils flaring. There was a slight ringing in Harry's ears that he was sure he would be hearing for another day or so.

He lifted his gaze from the floor to meet Mrs. Weasley's red face and angry brown eyes.

"Nothing," he said calmly. It wasn't like he could deny anything. She opened her mouth to begin shouting again and he hastily continued. "I don't see anything wrong with what I did. So what if I wanted some fresh air and a fag? What's the big deal?"

"You are too young to be smoking! And don't you dare start that tone with me young man! Oooh, if you were my son I would—"

"—But I'm not your son! I'm no one's son. What do you care, anyway? You're not my mother!" he bit out before he could stop himself. Mrs. Weasley seemed to deflate after that, though her ire was not completely gone. She bore an odd look on her face, almost hurt, and Harry couldn't tell whether she was going to cry or start yelling again.

"No," she said shakily, her bottom lip quivering. "No, but I believe I'm the closest you've got to one."

Harry suddenly felt worse than before, and if there was anything he hated felling, it was guilt. Hadn't he just decided to apologize for his rude behavior earlier? He swallowed hard and decided to make amends with her now. After all, it was her kids he was upset at, at the moment, not her.

"Mrs. Weasley...I'm sorry. I really am. Not only for disappointing you, but also for how I acted like a jerk towards everyone earlier. It was very rude of me, especially after you made that cake and threw the party. I didn't mean what I said either. You are like a mother to me. I-I am really glad you're in my life."

He hadn't meant for it to sound so trite, but he was new at this whole expressing-yourself deal. Mrs. Weasley's face softened and she pulled him into a hug.

"Oh Harry," She sobbed, finally breaking down, "Your not a disappointment, not at all. I understand S-Sirius leaving us had to be terrible for you. And no matter how hard you try to hide it, it shows in how you act towards people. You need to talk to people. I do wish you would open up to me; talk to me."

"Maybe someday," Harry murmured, finally hugging her back.

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When he came downstairs, Dumbledore stood waiting with a portkey to take him back to the Dursley's and a letter with his OWL results. Harry accepted them impartially, not looking the old man in the face. He also kept his eyes determinedly cast away from his friends, still feeling the sting of betrayal.

"Well, uh, thanks everyone, for the gifts and everything. And the cake. That was good—"

"Harry!" Hermione gasped suddenly, her eyes narrowing, "Is that a tongue ring?"

Harry froze, mid speech, and instantly clapped his mouth shut.

"Uh...Bye!" he rushed out hurriedly, and before Hermione could start yelling at him he grabbed the portkey.

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