A/N: Yeah, I actually thought this whole thing through (for the most part). I know what I want in it, and I'm hoping someone gets some enjoyment outta this, too. Enjoy, readers!

▫ộ»I Solemnly Swear I Am Up To No Good «ộ▫

The police force were actually very polite, though one had seemed to be overly paranoid and suspicious about Harry, like he was a secret terrorist who had somehow thought of trying to get into little Lima, Ohio with the sole intent on destroying police headquarters. When Kurt took it upon himself to tell Harry this, Harry had gotten a funny look on his face, eyes glazing over as he stared into the distance. Kurt had to snap his fingers four times in front of his face for him to refocus again. He just said, "He reminds me of someone, I think," and Kurt let it go. Memories come naturally. Forcing them will do nothing for Harry.

They had taken Harry's name, possible age, fingerprints for processing and searching in their database, and had promised to get in contact with someone at the hospital to set up a visit for blood tests and other necessary things, like making sure he had had his vaccinations. Until then, Kurt had graciously offered his home. ("I'm not intruding or anything, right? I wouldn't want to put you out." "Don't worry. I'll just need to explain the situation to my dad. I'm sure he'll understand and let you stay in our guest room. I really doubt we'll be having company anytime soon.")

Kurt then dragged Harry with him to the nearest clothing store. He was too broad for Kurt's clothes, even with seams let out, and too short and slim for any of Finn's to justify taking them and pretty much cutting them in half to fit (Harry would get the most clothes out of that, but Finn's clothes were ugly and unfashionable anyway). There was only so much Kurt's magic fingers could go when involving clothes.

"You really don't have to get me clothes. I can get a job," Harry pointed out, making an off-put face at the amount of clothes Kurt was forcing him into. It was at least a foot thick.

"As what? At this point, you have no prospects without a complete application, and no one will hire an unknown when they can hire a kid they already know something about," Kurt rejected his suggestion. "At least this way, I have something to do other than clean up my music library and yell at my brother to stop yelling at the TV."

"I suppose. You've already asked your dad about me?"

"Yep. He said as long as you don't decide to murder us in a sleep, (oh relax, he was joking), he's fine with you staying. You'll have to put up with getting up with the rest of us in the morning, though, since two of us have got to go to school still (come to think of it, I should probably enroll you if nothing comes back) and another has work."

"Something tells me early mornings won't really matter."

"For some reason, I had that same feeling." Harry blinked, unfazed at Kurt's rather evil look, thinking he's seen worse.

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It wasn't until that evening during dinner, when Finn came home from Puck's and Burt closed up shop for the day, did everyone get to meet Harry. He had helped Carole make dinner (looks like he still had some muscle memory, and it apparently had a lot to do with cooking), so was feeling a little shy about how the food would taste and their reactions. Kurt was the first to try it, before Finn had even a chance to try and use his fork, which was a first. Kurt's eyes fluttered in pleasure. He had to say, this was the best food he had had in a while. Even his rabbit food habits had gotten to him a few times, and he had watched Harry cook this with Carole. He was proud to say it was healthy, so he didn't need to feel bad about his dad eating it.

"This," he declared, eyes still closed, "is some of the best food I can remember ever having. Congrats, Harry." He missed the dazzling smile Harry got on his face, and the look Finn got — it was close to worship. Carole looked concerned at Finn. She hoped it wasn't a repeat of the Grilled Cheese Incident. Burt just happily dug in.

Harry waited until everyone started eating before digging in himself. He had a feeling he hadn't had this mood before. This… he didn't know how to word it, even to himself. The closest he could possibly come to it would be contentment, but there were a bundle of other emotions boiling within it too.

He felt like this was first time he had smiled in years, and meant it.

▫ộ» Mischief Managed «ộ▫

A/N: Yeah, it's a short chapter, big whoop, wanna fight about it? No really, I don't wanna fight. I'm quoting that midget from Family Guy (which my brother just got the season DVD for, actually). Any constructive criticism that someone can give me would be appreciated. I'd like to know I'm grammatically correct and stuff, and that I can somehow stay in character.