Harry rolled out of bed the next day, determined to stop moping and start living his life again. He got dressed in one of his favorite outfits and spent a little extra time taming his unruly curls, doing so for nobody but himself. He felt good, he felt like he was going to be able to bounce back. Maybe. He was skeptical of how his day would actually turn out.

"Harry, you need to get going or you'll be late for school," Des' loud, gravelly voice echoed throughout the flat.

Harry sighed, hollering out, "I'll be there in a minute."

Des mumbled, annoyed, under his breath and stomped out to wait on the front porch for his son. He was leaning up against his car and scrolling through his emails on his phone (it had been a while since he'd cleaned out his spam, just fatherly things!).

A boy started up the driveway, wearing a nicely pressed button up and jeans. He had quiffed brown hair and puppy dog eyes. "Excuse me, Mr. Styles?" he called softly. "I don't know if you'd remember me but-"

"-You're Liam Payne," Des replied evenly. He shoved his phone into the pocket of his jacket, crossing his arms over his chest skeptically.

Liam nodded. "Yes, Sir, that's me. About the watch and the jewelry," he said awkwardly, trailing off. He seemed hesitant; he was obviously uncomfortable and Des wondered if Liam's parents had sent him here.

"I don't think it's appropriate to talk about this without legal counsel present," Des declared. He wasn't about to get his family into more problems for discussing the case with the victim of the crime his son committed.

"I really don't think Harry had anything to do with it. It's that boy, Louis. Harry's been trying to protect him," Liam continued on anyways, disregarding Des' statement.

"It isn't the right time to talk about this, Liam."

"I understand. I also wanted to let you know that I saw Harry in Lambeth late last night. I think he was looking for Louis," Liam confessed, shifting his weight between his toes and his heels.

Des practically gasped, "What?"

The front door slammed behind them, making Liam flinch and Des spin around. It was Harry and he looked beyond confused. Harry swore he'd never seen a stranger sight in his entire life- Liam Payne and his father chatting on his front porch? What the hell?

"What's going on here?" Harry asked, eyes narrowed on Liam. He hated the boy's guts. No, more than his guts- he hated everything about Liam. He was the worst! Harry knew that the boy was probably up to no good, and he knew that Liam was probably using this to dig a six foot hole to toss Harry into.

"I was just leaving. I wouldn't want to be late for first lesson. Have a nice day," Liam said in a chipper voice, forcing a smile. He shot Harry a sly wink before walking back down the driveway towards his car.

Harry opened his mouth to ask his father about the reasoning for Liam's little visit, but the older man beat him to it.

"Were you in Lambeth last night?" Des asked furiously.

Harry knew that he was fucked.

-

Cowell sat in the front seat of his car, peering through the tinted windows up at the beaten down flat. "Are you in position around back?" Cowell asked into his ear piece.

"All set," his second officer replied. "There's still no movement."

Cowell climbed out of the vehicle and quietly closed the car door. "Keep your eyes open, I'm going up to the door. Suspect may make a run for it," he ordered. The detective pulled his gun from it's holster, stepping up the cracked pavement towards the front door.

He knocked firmly on the door three times, fist banging extra hard on the wood. "Zayn Malik, this is Detective Cowell from the London Police Department. I have a warrant to search the property," he yelled loudly. After getting no response, he called, "Hello? Is anybody home?"

He checked the door, jiggling it and seeing that the flat was unlocked. Cowell poked his head inside. It was dark and he couldn't see much past an old couch and a dusty table. "Still no movement in the back?" Cowell whispered, closing the door behind him.

"All still, Sir."

The detective crossed the room to flip on a lamp, it was dim but better nonetheless. "God, it stinks in here like cigarettes, stale beer and bong water," he mumbled

"Sounds gross," the officer replied. He added, "Sir," as a second thought.

"I'm going in deeper. Keep it covered."

-

Harry was sitting beside Cheryl at lunch, both poking at their meals.

Harry was slowly munching on the dry sandwich he'd gotten, forcing himself to eat since he hadn't been lately, while Cheryl scrunched her nose up in disgust. "How are you even eating that?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I guess I'm not as picky as you," he mumbled, uninterested in the conversation. He set the sandwich back on his tray and pushed it away. Harry grabbed his water and took a long drink.

"OMG!" Cheryl exclaimed suddenly, pointing across the room with a laugh. "Callum is spelling out 'prom' with a bunch of doughnuts."

"That's really the extent of his creativity?" Harry asked, unimpressed.

Cheryl scoffed. "I'm not surprised. When I look into his eyes, I see straight through the back of his head. Totally empty up here," she snickered, tapping her forehead with two fingers.

Harry forced a smile, but didn't laugh.

"Come on, Harry, cheer up! You'll have plenty of time to mope around about Louis later," she sighed. Her face lit up and she gasped, "You know what we should do? We should go to prom together!"

Harry was taken aback, asking, "Wait what? Are you serious?"

"Well, yeah! Liam's suspension includes prom, not that I would've gone with him anyways after all the shit he's pulled. It would've taken something big for me to forgive him," Cheryl said with a flip of her hair.

"When news gets out you aren't going together, you'll have guys lining up to ask you to be their date. And you'd rather go with me?" Harry asked, still confused. He was flattered, sure, but this seemed crazy.

"It'd be way more fun to go with you."

"Yeah, because when people hear the word 'fun,' they automatically think of Harry Styles," the curly haired boy scoffed with an unconvinced shake of his head.

Cheryl rolled her eyes before reaching across the table to shake Harry by the shoulders. "Just think about it, H! You and me going solo together, how awesome would that be?" she exclaimed.

Harry cracked a smile, chuckling softly as he wiggled out of her grasp. Maybe it didn't sound so bad, maybe she would be a good distraction from Louis and his family and everything else. He did love prom season, after all. "Yeah, it would be awesome," he admitted. "But, the chances of my dad even letting me go are about a million to one."

"Then start with your mum."

Harry shrugged, fidgeting with the ring on his thumb. "After everything, I don't think my mum would like us going together. I mean, no offense or anything," he confessed with a grimace.

"Jeez. Does she think I'll turn you into some wild, druggie, party animal or something?" Cheryl snorted a laugh.

"That's definitely plausible. Especially after all the Louis stuff, she doesn't trust me. And I can't say that I really blame her."

-

Harry stepped into his mother's house, feeling awkward and apprehensive as to what kind of conversation they'd have. He had big hopes to come stay with his mother again, to come home. "Hello?" he called out, his voice echoing through the seemingly empty house.

"Harry?" Anne's voice replied in an excited squeal. She came darting through a hall and appearing in the foyer. "Oh, Harry! I've been so worried about you!"

Harry forced a smile and set his backpack down on the tile floor, "Hey mum."

Anne pulled him into a brief hug, scanning over his face and body protectively. "I wanted to talk to you, I'm glad you came over," she said softly.

Harry didn't really know what to say next, he just nodded and shuffled behind her into the kitchen.

"I, just, I really think that your father was right about all this," she huffed as she pulled open the fridge. Grabbing out some sparking water, she said, "It is all my fault, I take responsibility."

Harry frowned, shaking his head. He felt awful. "Mum, you can't blame yourself. I'm not a little boy anymore, I made my own decisions," he assured her.

She slid a bottle Harry's way, shrugging unconvinced. "I mean, I can understand the fascination with a boy like Louis. He's handsome and rebellious and he's different. But the stealing? And going to Lambeth? That's dangerous stuff, Har," Anne said, shaking her head sadly.

"You put yourself into dangerous situations all the time," Harry pointed out.

"That's my job and that's different, you know that," Anne replied with her voice even and her face deadpanned.

"How?" the teen asked with a hint of an attitude.

"First of all, I'm an adult. I'm not a handsome young boy who stands out like a sore thumb in a place like that."

"You're pretty. And still kinda young," he added with playful smile, trying to lighten the mood.

Anne just shook her head. "Flattery isn't your friend now. You need to understand the distinction. When I go into unstable domestic situations, I have someone from the agency accompanying me," she frowned, her annoyance only growing.

"Not always."

"Or, I have police back up. That's how I know Detective Cowell," she added.

"Lucky you," Harry muttered, resisting the biggest eye roll of the century. Why was she proud of knowing someone as horrible as Cowell? That would be like Harry being proud of knowing Liam. No thank you.

"I'm thankful that nothing bad happened to you in Lambeth while you were on your own. But, don't kid yourself," Anne said, reaching out to rest her hand on top of Harry's from across the counter.

"Yeah," he sighed, knowing that this was a battle he shouldn't try to win.

A ringing sounded throughout the flat, Anne immediately recoiling and announcing, "Someone's at the door. Hold on." She disappeared off into the front room, but yelled out barely a minute later, "Harry, it's Cheryl."

The brunette came skipping into the kitchen, carrying shopping bags in both hands and wearing a huge smile. "Hey! I've been texting you, what were you doing?" Cheryl asked.

"Oh, hey. Sorry, my phone probably died. What's up?" he asked, surprised at her company. He wasn't expecting Cheryl to just show up, he didn't know they were the kind of friends who did stuff like that.

"There were some amazing sales today and I just couldn't help myself. I brought you some stuff to try on," she said happily, waving her bags around.

Harry felt guilty, he didn't like having others spend their money on him. "Cher, you didn't have to do that," he told her.

"Trust me, I wanted to. Men's clothing is so cute and everything just screamed 'Harry Styles!'" Cheryl exclaimed. "Honestly like, you can pull off some crazy stuff and I'm going to make you."

Harry laughed lightly, shaking his head in awe. "You're the best, Cheryl. Meet me in my room, upstairs at the end of the hall," he told her, hopping up out of his chair. He wanted to grab her a drink before he headed up.

"Okay!" Cheryl agreed, turning on her heel and skipping up the stairs.

As Harry turned his attention to the fridge to grab a second sparkling water, footsteps sounded behind him. Glancing over his shoulder, he spotted his mum. "Cheryl and I are going to hang out upstairs," he told her.

"What is Cheryl Cole doing here?" Anne said sharply.

"She's my friend," Harry said defensively. He'd been hoping that Anne wouldn't be judgmental of Cheryl but he knew it was a long shot.

Anne crossed her arms over her chest, asking, "Do you think she's the best person to be hanging around?"

"People change, mum," Harry sighed. He turned and darted for the stairs before she could saw anything else. He strolled down the hallway, nudging his door open with his elbow. Harry set their drinks down on his desk, eyeing Cheryl who was deep in his closet.

"You have a to-die-for wardrobe!" the brunette cheered, sifting through all of his printed button up shirts and nice tees.

"Thanks, I think," he laughed. He liked clothes and he liked dressing nice, but he didn't thinking that everyone else liked his style. Most of the time he dressed a little... out there. He didn't even wear most of his clothes to school.

"But, I have a new addition for you. Try it on!" she ordered, pointing at the bag that was in the middle of Harry's bed.

Harry reached to grab the bag, peering inside. He pulled out a soft button up shirt. It was sheer, black with a scattered rose pattern. He actually really liked it, it was the kind of thing he probably would've picked up but not bought because he was too timid. Harry tugged off his plain white tee shirt and tossed it onto his bed, replacing it with the shirt that Cheryl bought him.

"You look hot," Cheryl decided, taking a long look at Harry. She smiled with an approving nod.

"Thanks," Harry smiled, smoothing the material out.

"Go put on some black jeans for the full effect," she clapped pointing at his dresser.

Harry pulled out a pair of ripped jeans, unsure of why Cheryl was getting him all dressed up but not objecting to it. He stepped inside his closet and shut the door, changing his jeans before walking back out. When he came back, she was sitting at his desk peering at the open document on his laptop. Shit, he thought.

"Haz! This is so good! You've been writing about Louis this whole time?" Cheryl exclaimed, looking to face him. "Oh, you look hot by the way!"

"Why are you reading that?" Harry asked nervously.

"It was open. You weren't exactly secretive about it," she laughed. "It's good."

"Thanks. When I lost my internship, the editor told me I wasn't close enough to my subjects. And I was close to Louis so I just have been writing about him and his life and us. I wasn't ever going to publish it or anything, it was just for fun," Harry admitted. He hadn't told anyone he'd been doing this, he had actually forgotten about it. Or rather, repressed it from his memory because he didn't want it to accidentally slip and make Louis upset. It had been a while since he'd worked on it anyways, since before he stole the cufflinks and before he went to Lambeth with Louis and all of the crazy stuff.

Cheryl nodded understandingly. "Well, you should start working on it again," she shrugged. "Now, we're going out!"

That made more sense, she bought him an outfit to go party in. Harry face palmed. "Cheryl, I can't just leave. I'm still grounded! Even if I could, my mum would probably disown me for wearing a completely see through shirt. Something like, 'You're a sixteen year old prep student, not a male stripper!'" he imitated Anne's voice. "I'll have to wait for a day that she isn't home," he said, embarrassed that he wasn't kidding about his mum disowning him.

"Don't be a baby, H!" she teased.

Harry sighed, unbuttoning his shirt and pulling his tee back on. "I am a baby and I accept it," he huffed.

Harry followed Cheryl down the stairs again, the girl still determined to yank Harry out to some party or event. She was rambling the whole way down about how he'd never know if they'd let him if he never asked. Harry just ignored her; he knew his mother and he knew she'd say no.

At the bottom of the stairs near the foyer stood Anne, and she wasn't alone. Des was with her and they both looked very angry. Harry suddenly felt like screaming because he knew this wasn't going to be good. Cheryl must have sensed the uneasy tension in the room and whispered, "Talk later?"

Harry nodded, gulping in fear.

"Bye, Anne, thanks for having me. Bye Mr. Styles," Cheryl waved awkwardly, practically running for the door.

Harry didn't say anything to his parents, he was too nervous. They both just looked so upset and he couldn't think of anything he'd done that wasn't out in the open, which scared him even more.

"Well, not only are the Payne's filing a lawsuit against Louis, but against you too," Des finally announced, voice cold. "The police may get involved and, if so, you'll be charged as an accessory to the crime."

"What? What does that mean?" Harry asked, feeling his heart drop.

"Usually, small theft and burglary is considered a misdemeanor. But because the two of you took expensive jewelry, it's a felony," Anne explained sheepishly, not making eye contact with either lad.

"How could you let this happen? Right under your nose!" Des shouted at Anne, getting up in her face. His eyes were angry and his hands were clenched into fists.

"Hey! Blame me!" Harry interjected, moving to step in between his father and his mother. "If anyone had bad judgement here, it was me."

"I can't deny that, Harry. You were so irresponsible! But I also can't deny what your mother allowed to happen. If I was still living here, you never would've been in this situation to begin with," Des hissed.

"Cut the shit, Des!" Harry yelled.

"Harry! Stop!" Anne gasped.

Harry shook his head. "No!" he told her, turning his attention back to his father. "You don't live here! You moved out, remember? You left us like a bloody coward! You don't have the right to talk to her, or me, like this when you're not even fucking around!"

"That's enough!" Anne exclaimed.

"You and I are going to speak with an experienced attorney to prepare a defense against these charges. Hopefully we can get you a suspended sentence so we can pretend like none of this ever happened," Des spat. "There's just one condition."

"What? What else do you want, huh father?" Harry fired back.

"You're moving in with Cate and I-"

"-No way! No fucking way!" Harry practically screamed, as if it were the worst thing in the world.

"I can't have you staying in this toxic environment," Des said evenly, not even affected by the level of Harry's tone.

"Mum! Say something!" the teen desperately pleaded, feeling like his mum was letting him down. Was she not even going to fight for him? He'd gone to bat for her so many times against his father and she couldn't even stand up for him? He was hurt, to say the least.

"What's it going to be, Harry?" Des asked.

"I'm staying here with my mother!" Harry declared.

"Fine. Good luck with a public defender," the older man scoffed, shaking his head.

"Harry, we have no choice. The Paynes are going to have the best law team in town prosecuting this case. We can't win with a public defender. We need to think about your future here," Anne said sadly, finally speaking up.

"Don't I have any say in this?" he asked, his big green eyes welling with tears. Harry had never felt so upset before. This was worse than losing Louis, worse than the divorce, worse than anything he'd gone through with Nick. Losing his mother and his home to be stuck with his father was the top of the list.

"Go with your father, Harry," Anne instructed with a sigh.

Harry took a shaky breath, opening his mouth to speak but no words came out. He turned and ran off, darting up the stairs and slamming his door behind him.