Disclaimer – Still don't own them and still not making any profit.

Author Notes – It's kinda disappointing how few reviews this story is getting (and yes, this is me begging for more) but I guess that Higher Ground isn't a very big fandom and especially crossed with Harry Potter. And yes, I do know that might not be the reason for the lack of reviews but I feel better thinking that it is then to think that my story just sucks!

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Chapter 4 – Morning Has Broken

Now all that's left of me is what I pretend to be

So together, but so broken up inside

Behind These Hazel Eyes – Kelly Clarkson

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Harry bolted up in bed with a strangled cry, hands shaking and sweat covering his whole body. He took several rushed breaths before the panic started to settle and his heart calmed down to a normal pace. Wrapping his arms around his bent legs and leaning his forehead against his knees he tried to compose himself. Nightmares were nothing new to Harry but this one had had an intensity to it that he had not had to deal with for a while.

Taking a deep breath he untangled himself from his sheets and silently placed his feet on the cold hardwood-floor. Glancing at the other beds, making sure he had not woken anyone else, he stood up and moved slowly across the room and out the door.

The room outside was dark and silent, only the smallest sliver of moonlight creping in through the windows, as he moved toward one of the armchairs and fell down on it. He pulled his legs up and wrapped his arms around them again before sighing heavily and letting his head fall back.

Harry hated nightmares. Scratch that, he bloody despised them! Was it really that much to ask that he, for just one night, could sleep all the way to morning? He could not even remember the last time that happened.

He had still been awake when the rest of the guys had come in to the bedroom but, too riled up and shaky, he did not have the strength to deal with them. He was thankful that the annoyingly cheerful Ezra had not tried anything but the feeling of being watched had made his skin crawl. So he was the new kid, that did not give them the right to stare at him even if they did not think he noticed. He had always hated when people stared.

But they had reason to stare, did not they? After that performance in group, his own personal little freak-out, of course they would stare. He had been as jumpy as a flipping dolphin!

That girl – Harry shivered – she had seen right through him. He had felt her eyes on him from the moment he stepped foot inside the room and her creepy gaze had not wavered for second. He had done everything he could to make her turn away, not many could withstand his patented Potter-glare, but she just smiled at him and said things that made his heart stop.

She could not know. That was not possible. But then why did she say what she did? Was he that transparent? No, he could not be. No-one had ever seen through him before and he only got better and better at hiding. But she had known. Somehow she had been able to see right through him. She had seen what he was, somehow put words on something he had never been able to express, and it scared the hell out of him.

People did not care. He knew that – had learnt it the hard way – and because of that they were not supposed to know, because if they knew but did not care it hurt and he was so sick of hurting. But if they did not know then it did not matter. He might never admit it but if they did not know he could pretend that if they did they would actually care and then things might get better. That if they knew there might be a light at the end of the tunnel.

And then this girl came – this freakishly insightful girl – and she turned his whole world upside down. She knew. Did she still not care?

Rubbing a hand over his face he drew in a shaky breath and let it out in a whoosh. Hours. He had only been here a few hours and already there were cracks in his façade. If Vernon were here he might have actually kicked him in the groin for leaving him in this place.

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Pushing the porridge around in his bowl Harry wanted to scream. Having stayed up the rest of the night, afraid of what might wait for him in his dreams, he was in a fowl mood and sitting in a bright dining-room with dozens of overly cheerful teenagers who just did not know how to shut up was not his idea of a good time. Was he really the only anti-morning-person in this place? Sure, having lived with the Dursleys for years forced him to wake up early every morning, nightmares or no nightmares, but that did not mean he had ever learned to like it. And really, waking up after only a few hours of restless sleep and being forced to make breakfast for a family that might or might not give you some of their leftovers would make anyone hate mornings.

Admitting that the porridge was a lost cause he pushed the bowl away with a sneer. You would think that people would understand that making breakfast look like vomit might not be such a good idea.

"And what have the evil porridge done to deserve that look?" Ezra asked as he dropped down in the seat opposite Harry, his own bowl filled to the brim and porridge splashing over the sides as he put it down, not to gently, on the table.

Harry made a face at the mess before turning his glare at the brunette.

"Yeah, yeah, none of my bloody business, I know!" Ezra laughed with a dismissive hand gesture.

"Can't you take a hint?" Harry bit out between clenched teeth as he watched Ezra scoop the disgusting substance in to his mouth at an inhuman pace.

"I'm real good at hints," Ezra defended. "I'm also real good at ignoring them."

Harry opened his mouth to respond only to be interrupted by Shelby as she sat down on his right. "Yes, just like table-manners apparently."

Ezra gave her a wounded look as Scott and Daisy sat down on either side of him and Jules and Auggie sat down on Harry's left. "I happen to be a starving boy; I don't have time for manners."

"Yeah, the risk of you starving to death keeps me up at night," Shelby said with a straight face, "with happiness."

Harry tuned out Ezra's hurt response as he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Turning slowly he met Daisy's stare from across the table and a shiver went up his spine. There was a small smile playing on her lips, not necessarily a happy one but more of a I-know-you're-secret kind of smile, and a glint in her eyes that told Harry that she was not done with him yet.

Shaking his head in an attempt to get her out he turned away and for the first time noticed the all out argument that had broken out between Shelby and Ezra with Jules and Auggie trying to calm them down. Scott was just leaning over the table, arms crossed, with a resigned look on his face as if this happened every day. Looking at the others Harry guessed that it did.

"Would you all just bugger of!?" he yelled at last and was immediately rewarded with silence as everyone turned to look at him. Rubbing his temples in an attempt to calm the headache he felt coming on he sighed. Bloody Dursleys for leaving him here.

"You know, I've always thought britts were sexy," Shelby mussed and Harry turned his glare on her. "That whole James Bond accent. And well," her eyes trailed up and down Harry's body before meeting his eyes, a smirk grazing her lips, "you don't disappoint."

He heard Jules groan on his other side and in the corner of his eye he saw the faint motion of her hands coming up the cover her face. "Shelby," she squeaked from behind her hands, exasperated and with a hint of warning.

Harry wanted to bang his head against the table. This was not the first time a girl hit on him, and it certainly would not be the last, but what was it about him being British that made every girl think it was open season? And why, apparently, did they all think noting that he was in fact British, as if he did not know that, was the best way to pick him up?

Clearing his face and quirking his eyebrow he met her gaze full on. "Yeah?" he said, a small smirk grazing his lips as she leaned towards him.

"Yeah," she said, her tongue coming out to wet her lip. "You got that bad boy vibe about you. Like you don't give a shit about anything and if anyone stands in your way you'll just take 'em out."

"And that's a good thing?" Harry heard Ezra whisper to Daisy and even without looking at her Harry could practically feel her stare breaking right through him.

Focusing back on Shelby Harry let his eyes drop down to her lips for a second before meeting her gaze again. "Well, you got that right," he said. "And right now you're in my way."

Before Shelby had a chance to process his words he pushed her away, hard enough the make her fall of her chair and yell in surprise as she landed in a heap on the floor. Standing up he smirked down on her. "Don't get up, I'll find my own way out." Walking out of the room Harry heard Ezra's cheerful "Swing and a miss" before the door closed behind him.

Breathing in the obscenely fresh air – really, it did not even taste right without at least some pollution in it – he walked over to one of the benches and sat down. Girls, really, when would they learn? Chuckling to himself he stared in to the forest just yards away from him. How much time would it take to cross it? Was it hours or days? Weeks maybe? He had always been fast, his slim built coupled with Dudley's favourite sport – Harry hunting – giving him lots of practice, and he could work on a very small amount of food, thanks to the Dursley's, but the main problem was how he would find his way. He did not have a compass and even if he did he would not know which way to go.

As much as he hated it here it seemed like he would have to stay.

Someone sat down beside him and he was not really surprised when he looked up and saw that it was Daisy. Harry sighed, not only would he have to suffer her creepiness when forced to be in the same room as her, now she was showing stalking tendencies to. Oh, the joy!

"You're good at mind-games," she said and Harry did not like the look in her eyes.

"Yeah, well . . ." he trailed of, uncomfortably looking away from her. It was not like he was scared of her or anything, she was just a girl, but he did not like what came out of her mouth. He kind of hoped that the night before would be a onetime thing but he seriously doubted it. When had his luck ever been that good?

"Have to be to keep them out. Keep them of. You don't like them in your head or in your space."

"Bugger of," Harry said but it sounded weak even to him. He usually thought of himself as a strong person, not easily rattled and not someone who took things lying down, but something about this girl just messed him up. With just a few words she could completely crush his confidence and get him all flustered. He did not like it.

Daisy's smile just widened at his brush of and it made him squirm. His left hand came up and wrapped around his right wrist, his thumb moving in circles over the fabric of his long-sleeved shirt. God, could not she just leave him bloody well alone?

Daisy's eyes lowered to his arm and the smile dimmed a little. "Your good at mind-games but they don't make things better. Sometimes the truth hurts less."

Harry snorted and looked up at her, trying his best to regain the confidence she seemed to seep out of him. "Yeah, since when?"

Daisy's smile came back in full force again and he had to force himself not to look away. "Since forever. But you haven't tried enough to see that yet. Trial and error and all that." She stood up and with a parting smile she started to walk away.

When she had walked a few feet and Harry finally thought he was rid of her for now her last words, thrown over her shoulder as if it was no big deal, almost made his heart stop.

"Tell her you don't swing that way and she'll leave you alone."

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