A/N: Apologies to those following for the slow update. 'Real life' has been keeping me busy. But I'll never abandon the story, and here's a nice long chapter for you :)

Chapter 4 - Boiling Point

Harry was feeling restless. It was maddening, suffocating, infuriating beyond belief to be in the house where the people who were leading the fight against Voldemort met but not to be allowed to attend any of the meetings.

He'd argued with Sirius a few more times about it but his godfather wasn't budging.

"You're testing my patience." He'd growled last time he'd caught Harry with another extendable ear courtesy of Fred and George. "I mean it. Enough." And he'd stuffed the ear in his pocket.

"You're being so unfair!" Harry complained, ignoring the fierce warning look his godfather shot him. "I want to know what's going on!"

"Yes, and I don't want you going charging off trying to fight Voldemort yourself. You're fifteen, Harry. You should be allowed to have a decent childhood. Merlin knows you've waited long enough for one…"

"Yeah, no thanks to you!"

"Thanks, Harry." Sirius said, his eyes hard as flint as he looked back at him. "Are you done?"

Harry glared at him. There were a thousand things he wanted to say to his godfather. He'd had to fight Voldemort by himself, no one was around to do it for him before now. Just because Sirius had decided to come back into his life didn't mean he was suddenly incapable of it.

"It's so unfair." He muttered instead before turning and storming back up to his bedroom.

He didn't speak much to Sirius over the next few days. If his godfather wasn't going to involve him in his conversations, why should Harry talk to him at all?

"Oh for Merlin's sake Harry." Sirius snapped after receiving one too many monosyllabic answers from him one evening at dinner. "Sodding Kreacher's better company than you at the moment."

Harry ignored this too.

It wasn't fair. None of it was fair. They weren't the ones who had fought Voldemort in that graveyard.

It wasn't that he didn't trust that Sirius and Remus were good fighters, he knew they were, but didn't he have as much of a right as anyone else to try and take down the man who had killed his parents?

His feelings of frustration and mutiny continued to bubble inside him like the contents of a boiling cauldron. And then, one scorching hot afternoon in mid-August, he decided he'd had enough.

"I'm going out." He said to Ron, who was sitting at the desk in their room as he worked through a particularly tricky essay on giant wars for Professor Binns.

His friend looked up. "Er, I'm not sure that's a good idea, mate. You know we're not allowed."

Of course Harry did know that, but quite honestly he didn't care what Sirius thought about him right now. And besides, maybe if he met Voldemort on the streets of London he'd have the chance to prove to everyone once and for all that he wasn't just some stupid kid.

He shrugged. "See you later." And, without a backwards glance, he made his way downstairs and out of the house.

He didn't really have much of a plan for what to do but he had to admit it did feel good to be outside. It was an uncommonly hot day and the sun beat down fiercely. It wasn't long before the back of his neck was prickling and his T-shirt sticking to his back.

The muggles were of course out in full force, all dressed for the weather, eating ice creams and chatting merrily. It was so rare to have sunshine in Britain that it lifted everyone's mood to see it. Harry caught phrases like "nice to finally see some sun, eh?" And "This will be our week of summer then I suppose!" As he passed muggles breaking another British custom - talking to strangers in the street.

Harry had only been to London once before, and that was when the Dursleys had taken him to the zoo for Dudley's birthday. Usually when they visited the city they'd leave him behind with mad cat lady turned Order member Mrs Figg. It was busy and exciting, and he felt his bad mood abate somewhat as he walked. It was hard to feel gloomy when everyone around him was so upbeat and cheerful.

It took him a while to reach the city centre on foot and he took a seat on a bench in Hyde Park when he reached it. He watched the muggles going about their business; lounging on picnic rugs on the grass or else taking a stroll along the Serpentine.

They knew none of this, Harry realised. They had no idea that the darkest and most dangerous wizard of all time had returned to Britain.

He wondered what was going to happen to them all. From everything Sirius and Remus had told him Voldemort's last rise to power had brought with it a number of muggle deaths and attacks. None of them were safe, though of course not one of them realised it.

"Hi."

Harry gave a start and looked up. It was a girl. She was about his age and was wearing a white cropped top, denim skirt and had little butterfly clips in her brown hair. She was smiling at him.

"Er, hi." Harry replied, feeling himself going red and very self-conscious all of a sudden.

"I'm Georgia." The girl said. "What's your name?"

"Harry." Harry replied, wondering what on earth he was supposed to say to her next.

Georgia smiled again. "Nice to meet you, Harry. What school do you go to? We're at St Paul's." She gestured the little group of girls who were sitting nearby, giggling behind their hands as they looked over at the pair.

"Oh." Harry said, wishing he had anything interesting to say to that. He had no idea what kind of school St Paul's was. "I'm at… Smeltings." He invented wildly. That was the school Dudley went to wasn't it? Muggles went there.

"I've heard of Smeltings." The girl said with a frown. "That's the school our prime minister went to, isn't it? Isn't that where they give you sticks you're supposed to use to hit each other when the teachers aren't looking?"

Harry grinned. He certainly remembered (and had personal experience of) Dudley's Smeltings stick.

"It's supposed to be good practice for later life." He told her.

Georgia looked like she didn't know what to say to that. "Hey, do you want to come and join us?" She said instead. "Bonnie's pinched a bottle of cider from her parents' drinks cupboard. There's enough to go around." And she smiled at him again.

Harry had never tried cider before. He'd drunk butterbeer of course, but he didn't think that wasn't very strong as thirteen year olds were allowed it. He knew in the muggle world you weren't really supposed to drink until you were eighteen, but these girls surely weren't of age yet, and besides, how could it hurt?

He'd just opened his mouth to agree that he would when he felt a firm hand suddenly grip his shoulder.

He jumped and spun around to come face to face with exactly who he'd been dreading seeing. There, standing over him, looking quite as angry as Harry had ever seen him, was Sirius.

"Hello, Harry." He said with a slightly twisted smile.

Harry gaped at him. "How did you find me?!"

"I don't think you're in any position to be asking the questions right now."

He removed his hand from Harry's shoulder and offered it to a startled looking Georgia. "Hi. I'm Harry's godfather." He said, shaking her hand. "I'd leave the two of you to exchange contact details but as I'm afraid Harry won't be leaving the house again this summer there's probably not much point."

He turned back to his godson and Harry recoiled slightly at the fierce expression on the man's face. "Let's go." He said and, taking Harry by the arm, led him over to a little clump of trees where he extracted his wand from his back pocket and disapparated with him.

They arrived back in the dark hallway of Grimmauld Place moments later. Harry opened his mouth to speak but Sirius beat him to it.

"What the hell were you thinking?!" He shouted, eyes flashing furiously as he glared at Harry.

Harry glared right back. "I went for a walk." He said defiantly. "I used to all the time at Privet Drive. No one cared then."

"Fu-dging Voldemort wasn't on the loose when you were at Privet Drive!" Sirius yelled, slamming a fist down hard on the end of the bannister.

"I thought you and Dumbledore said he could always come back?" Harry retorted. "Isn't that why I had to go there every summer in the holidays? So I could be protected? I've got an idea Sirius, how about I decide how to take care of myself?!"

"Harry, I am this close to losing my temper with you." Sirius warned, although Harry rather thought that ship had already sailed. Besides, he was too angry to care.

"I'm sick of it!" He shouted. "I'm sick of all of it! I've managed without you for thirteen years and I've fought Voldemort three times now! I don't need you. I don't know why you bother! I can do it. I've had to do it. Leave me alone!"

And, pushing Sirius' hand off his arm, he turned on his heel and marched up the stairs to his bedroom.

He slammed the door behind him and roared in frustration into the empty room. He moved over to his bed and pounded the pillows hard. He was furious at the injustice of the situation. Sirius didn't understand. None of them understood.

Voldemort had killed his parents. It was because of Voldemort that he'd had to survive on his own for thirteen bloody years in the first place!

Where had Sirius been then? Where had any of them been then?! Hot tears pricked at the backs of his eyes but he ignored them. He didn't want to cry. He was too angry to cry.

There was a tentative knock at the door and Ron shuffled into the room. "Er, can I come in?" He said awkwardly.

Of course he already had come in, but Harry wasn't about to argue semantics with him.

"Sure." He said, hastily wiping his eyes on the back of his hand and hoping Ron wouldn't see.

"So, I heard all the yelling." Ron said, moving to sit down.

Harry wasn't surprised. He expected the whole house had heard what he'd shouted at his godfather in the hall.

"You shouldn't have said those things to him." Ron said quietly.

Harry knew in his heart that Ron was right, but there was still a defiant part of him that wanted to keep protesting.

"But he's treating me like a little kid!"

"You know who's after you, mate." Ron said. "He's worried about you."

"Dunno why he bothers." Harry muttered to the floor.

"Harry, I'm sorry to say it, but you're being seriously thick."

It was such a blunt and out of character thing for his friend to say that Harry stared at him.

Ron's ears went a little pink. "Don't you get it?" He carried on regardless. "He cares about you. You mean the world to him. I've seen the way he is around you. He'd do anything for you. And… you're being a bit of a prat." His ears were a fierce crimson now.

Harry considered this. Was he being unreasonable? It didn't feel like it. If Sirius wasn't going to listen to Harry, why should he listen to Sirius?

But then Ron's words came back to him. He cares about you.

He'd never had an adult do that before. He'd meant what he'd said to Hermione at the end of their second year. Of course the Dursleys wouldn't have been proud of what he'd done in the chamber of secrets. They'd have been furious he'd not been killed as then they wouldn't have had to have looked after him anymore.

Being treated like a waste of space was all he'd ever known. Perhaps he hadn't realised how much people could care. Was that how it was for Sirius? Was he keeping Harry in the dark simply because he cared about him?

Hot, prickly remorse was taking over his anger now. He could see what an idiot he'd been.

"I know." He sighed, putting his head in his hands.

He still didn't think he should be kept in the dark with what was going on, but he could see it wasn't right to react the way he had. He really had acted quite childishly and that wasn't going to help his case for being included in the meetings.

"I'll go and talk to him."

"Probably a good idea. I think he's in the study."

Harry frowned. Sirius never went in the study. He knew it was the site of his father's portrait, who Sirius had loathed growing up. Why would he torture himself by going back in there now?

Harry made his way through the dark house that even after two summers here still gave him chills and paused outside the imposing wooden door to the study. Did Sirius want to talk to him? Maybe he was writing a letter to the Dursleys asking them to take Harry back!

Before this unpleasant thought could take root, he turned the door handle and entered the room.

Sirius was there. He was sitting at the imposing looking desk and appeared to be deep in thought. He looked up as Harry entered. "Hi, Harry." He said quietly.

"Hi." Harry said, coming into the room and closing the door behind him. "Er, can I sit down?"

"Do you want to sit down?"

They'd both spoken at the same time.

"Sure." Sirius gestured at the chair on the other side of the desk.

Harry sat. It really was a very formal room. It wasn't just the layout that was intimidating, but the expensive looking cabinets and bookshelves gave the impression of grandeur and rigidity that surely matched the personality of the sleeping occupant in Orion Black's portrait.

"I thought you hated it in here." Harry said, quite able to see why his relaxed and rebellious godfather would feel out of place in such a stiff environment.

"Not nearly as much as I hated hearing what you said to me." Sirius said, his expression unreadable as he looked back at Harry. "It almost makes me have sympathy for my dad. You don't want to know what he'd have done to me if I'd spoken to him like that. But at least I never did it… much."

Harry didn't know what to say to that. He knew Sirius hadn't agreed with the way his parents had treated him. He wasn't about to change his mind on that now was he?

"I'm sorry." Harry said, his eyes on the floor.

"What for?"

Harry paused. What should he say? Sorry for shouting at him, for saying he didn't need him, for breaking the one rule Sirius had set for him?

"For being a prat." He said, hoping this would cover all bases.

"You're going to need to be more specific."

Harry felt his ears burn as he looked down again. His godfather wasn't going to make this easy for him, was he?

"Sorry for what I said." He mumbled to the carpet.

"Which bit?"

Oh must he really do this?!

Harry sighed heavily and looked up. "I'm sorry I said I didn't need you." And, to his embarrassment, felt his eyes burn suddenly with tears.

"Sorry." He said, wiping them hastily on his sleeve.

Sirius moved over to kneel beside him. He took hold of his wrist and met his eyes steadily. "That's one thing you never have to be sorry for." He said firmly.

This kindness was too much for Harry. That his godfather still cared for him in spite of everything he'd put him through was more than he could bear. He buried his head in his hand as the emotion overwhelmed him.

"It's OK." Sirius said, resting an arm gently on his back as he waited for his waves of anguish to ease.

When Harry eventually looked up he saw there were tears in his godfather's eyes too.

"You might be right Harry. Maybe you don't need me. But Merlin knows I need you. If anything ever happened to you…" he shook his head. "I can't go through that again." He said quietly, leaving Harry to wonder exactly what it was he was referring to.

"I won't do anything like that again." Harry promised. "I was just angry at not being able to attend the meetings that's all."

"I figured." Sirius said with a humourless smile. "Well, you don't deserve it, but maybe we can reach a compromise with that. I'm sure there are some things we can tell you."

"Like what Voldemort's up to?"

"Well, as much as we know. Just don't tell Molly, will you?"

Harry shook his head.

"And if she asks tell her I made you…" he scanned the room appearing to search for inspiration. "Er, is copying text with blood quills a normal thing for parents to do?"

Harry stared at him. "Er, I think Mrs Weasley made Ron de-gnome the garden the last time we snuck out..."

"Ah." Sirius said. "Sounds about right. Well you won't get any garden gnomes here, so you'll have to make something up. Just make sure it's convincing. I know she already thinks I'm too soft with you." He looked up at the portrait of his father on the wall again, his expression unreadable. Then he turned back to Harry and smiled. "Don't worry. I was a bit of an idiot when I was fifteen too."

Later that night Harry did his best to act contrite and sufficiently mollified as Mrs Weasley berated him for his stupidity in leaving the house without telling anyone.

"Harry, we're all doing this for your protection." She said crossly, waving her wand so that the carrots began peeling themselves. "And it will all be for nothing if you get yourself killed by you know who. It was really a very foolish thing to do."

"Yes Mrs Weasley." Harry said dutifully, ignoring Fred and George who were silently mocking him from the kitchen table.

Harry didn't make any more bids for freedom or fight his godfather on being involved in Order business for the remainder of the summer. Sirius did tell him a bit more about what was going on, but he had to admit it wasn't much.

He faced a bit of disappointment too when it transpired that Ron and Hermione had been made prefects and not him, but Sirius and Tonks did their best to cheer him up.

"Let me tell you, James would have been deeply disappointed in you if you'd been made a prefect." Sirius told him solemnly. "He hated prefects. In fact, he and I frequently went out of our way to annoy them."

And he proceeded to tell Harry about the time they had organised a 'welcome back' party for the prefects at the start of term which had mainly consisted of pelting them with dungbombs.

Hermione looked disapproving but Ron laughed. "I can't believe you got Peeves to help you with that. Peeves never helps students."

"James could usually find a way to get anyone to do what he wanted." Sirius grinned reminiscently.

Harry had to admit the news that his father hadn't been a prefect either did soften the blow at not being made one himself. But still, he it didn't do much for his feelings of resentment and ill-usage towards Dumbledore.

The man had barely looked at him once in all the times he'd visited headquarters. Did he think, like the stupid Daily Prophet, that he wasn't to be trusted?

"He's just busy." Sirius reassured him after Harry voiced some of his concerns to his godfather. "You know Dumbledore cares for you. I'd say from the way he talks about you that you were probably his favourite student."

Well if that was the case, why hadn't he made Harry a prefect then?

Harry had never been looking forward to returning to Hogwarts less.

Despite his frustrations at having so little to do, he did enjoy being with Sirius and Remus. He didn't want to return to a castle full of people who, presumably like the rest of the wizarding world, thought he was a liar and a lunatic.

He did his best to ignore the pointing and whispering at platform nine and three quarters. "Now I know how you must have felt." He muttered to Sirius, turning away from an old woman who was frowning at him and shaking her head. "No one believing your story at the time."

Sirius put a protective arm around him and made a rude hand gesture at the woman. "Don't worry." He said reassuringly. "We got there in the end." He said. "And you'll get there too. People always see the truth eventually."

Harry wasn't sure how much truth there was to that, but the idea comforted him slightly.

Remus and Sirius helped Harry load his trunk onto the train, gave him one last hug goodbye, and then the Hogwarts Express was off.

Harry waved goodbye to his new family as the train carried them out of sight. As Ron and Hermione had prefect duties he was in a compartment with Neville, Ginny and a girl with dirty blonde hair.

Remus and Sirius beamed and waved back.

"Funny how life works, isn't it?" Ginny smiled at him. "You wait fourteen years for a dad and then two come along at once."

Harry grinned back. Of course no one could ever replace his dad, and Remus and Sirius knew that too, but he supposed he really did have the next best thing.