Hello everyone! Sorry that it's been a while since my last update, but I've been swamped with coursework for school. But that's past now! I just hope I did okay in them...
Anywho, then I was struggling to find a place to cut this chapter, so I've actually got around 900 words of the next chapter already written! But I give no promises that the next chapter will be up any time soon, as have my finals coming up and I would reeeealy like to not fail them! Abi, an OC who you will be introduced to in this chapter, kind of took over a section of the chapter. She wasn't ever actually intended to be in this fanfic at all, but she wrote her own character and forced herself into the chapter!
As always the songs for this chapter and all the others can be found at: wwwDOTyoutubeDOTcomSLASHplaylist?list=PL4VlSAN7S2qxKJawsqJ8B6ASCfiHF0_4q
I am English, so if I get any of the school stuff wrong, feel free to correct me!
DISCLAIMER: Do I look like I'm making stacks of money? Is this a website for those who are already rich and famous? The answer for both of these is NO. (although if you are rich and famous... Hi! *fangirls*) THUS I DO NOT OWN HP, GLEE, OR ANY SONGS USED THAT I DO NOT STATE ARE MY OWN WORK!
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Harry flicked his wand out of his hand and walked towards the living room, where the source of the sound hadn been. He could hear someone moving around. Harry's mind was racing, trying to figure out who it could be. What if the wizarding world had found him again? What if it was a muggle? He couldn't have his wand out if it was a muggle, but he couldn't have it away if it was a wizard. Harry decided to sheath his wand and he picked up a vase from the hallway. If it was a wizard, they wouldn't be expecting a physical attack. Harry had already deduced that it couldn't be a death eater, they would have already destroyed the house. Without Voldemort to guide them, the remnants of the Death Eaters were not exactly subtle when they attacked.
He kicked open the door.
Harry deflated when he saw who it was, and briefly entertained the thought of knocking them out with the vase. But decided that explaining why he'd knocked them out would be more effort than it was worth.
"Harry!" they exclaimed, "Hi..."They eyed the vase in Harry's hand and their eyes widened.
"You know, when someone lives alone they tend to be concerned when they can hear someone else in their house."
"I apologize Harry, but-"
"You didn't grab me at school so you tracked me down through the school system to find my place of residence. It's not that hard to work out Mr Schue."
Mr Sche looked rightfully sheepish at the fact that Harry had worked out what he did so quickly. A few minutes passed wherein neither of them said a word before Mr Schue finally broke and spoke.
"Harry, I- What did you mean earlier?"
Harry looked down and away from his teacher before responding. "Exactly what I said."
Mr Schue crossed the room and hugged Harry and Harry couldn't help but stiffen at the slightly unexpected contact. Minutes passed and neither of them dared to speak. Harry knew that if he let the moment get to him he wasn't going to be able to keep his past to himself any more. Harry didn't understand why Mr Schue seemed to care; but the man did, or at the very least seemed to. He'd gone to the effort of tracking him down to try and talk.
Another minutes passed and Harry couldn't take it. He couldn't keep it in any longer. For some reason he cared and Harry physically couldn't keep pushing everyone away. He had been doing so for years, even keeping Ron and Hermione at arms length most of the time. Harry took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He couldn't do this any longer. He had to tell someone.
"After my parents died I went to live with my Aunt and Uncle. I- Th-They- Let's just say that they didn't like me very much. I'm a freak and they made sure I knew that from a young age. When I cried on hearing of their mur- passing they were tears of relief that I would never have to go back."
There was a moment of silence before Mr Schue hugged him even harder. "I can't even start to imagine what you've gone through. I wish that you never had to go through that Harry. But you did and managed to come out of it a good person."
"No."
"What?"
"I'm not a good person." Harry said, pushing the man away. How could have he been so stupid? He was just a freak that got everyone around him killed. Why had he done that? Why had he told Mr Schue about his Aunt and Uncle? Of course the man wouldn't understand. "You have no clue what is in my past; the things I have done."
Mr Schue put his hands in the air. "Harry. It doesn't matter what you've done in the past. It's who you are now that I'm interested in; and I happen to know that the Harry I know is a good person."
"But I have killed people. I am not a good person" Harry admitted forcing down the feeling of wanting to cry and turned his back to Mr Schue. It was true. He had killed Death Eaters, Voldemort, and he had basically killed all of his friends as well. He was a monster.
He heard a sharp intake of breath from Mr Schue and Harry sighed. He knew.
"Did you enjoy it?" the man asked after a few minutes of silence.
"No." Harry almost spat. He had hated what killing Voldemort had done to him; the monster that it revealed. The pain that followed him around wherever he went.
"Then that is all that matters. You are still a good person."
Harry spun around, he could feel the shock and disbelief plastered all over his face. "What?" He asked incredulously. He couldn't have heard the man correctly.
"The war that you talked about the other day, you were in the midst of it, weren't you?"
When Harry didn't answer, but looked away, Mr Schuester continued. "Killing to protect others doesn't make you a bad person, Harry. It makes you a good one."
Harry snorted. As badly as he wanted to believe that to be true, it wasn't; it couldn't; it wouldn't ever be. It just wasn't how the world worked.
"Harry." Mr Schue said and placed both his hands on Harry's shoulders, interrupting Harry's thoughts, "I know that you don't believe me right now, but know this. You are not a freak, or a monster. You are a human being and a good one at that. I know it's going to take a while for you to believe me, but we have a while."
Harry felt numb. This wasn't happening. This was messing with his head. He didn't understand. Harry didn't know exactly what he needed, but it wasn't this sympathy. He-no. He needed to get out. No. He needed Mr Schue to leave. He needed him gone. Harry drew back, forcing the hands off of his shoulders. "No."
"Harry?"
"Get out." Harry demanded, hating that his voice broke halfway through the words. He needed him gone. "I- Leave. Now." He needed space. He needed Mr Schue out. He just couldn't deal with it. He couldn't think straight. He needed Mr Schuester gone,
"Okay Harry." Mr Schue said, holding his hands up. He reached inside his pocket for something and placed what looked like a piece of paper on the coffee table. Why wasn't he leaving? He said that he would leave. Mr Schue needed to leave.
"Harry. I'm going to go, that piece of paper has my phone number on, if you ever need to contact me. I'm leaving, but I'm not going to leave you."
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After Mr Schue had left Harry shoved the incident to the back of his mind, pretending that it hadn't happened. He went upstairs to his piano and practiced, venting his frustrations at himself and the world until he fell asleep at the instrument.
When Harry woke up the next morning the first thing he noticed was that he was on the floor next to his piano. The second was that his leg hurt slightly from a lack of blood in the limb. He guessed that he must have fallen asleep at the piano and fallen off in the night. The third, which happened when he looked up at the clock, was that he had missed most of school. It was already lunch time. He must have stayed up pretty late playing. He didn't particularly care that he had missed the day of school, he could ask around for notes and homework assignments quite easily. He hadn't' missed a day of school a all until then, so it shouldn't' matter too much in the long run. It wouldn't be worth it to drag himself to school, and so Harry decided that baking was a good idea. He would have a stock of snacks for when Blaine was around. That decision made Harry went downstairs fixed himself some breakfast before starting his day of baking, making an active effort to forget what had happened the previous day. At around half 3 Harry was interrupted by a knock at the door. Making sure his wand was in it's holster, he opened the door to find Blaine, Artie, Charlie and Marley stood behind it.
"Are you okay Harry?"
"Why weren't you a school?"
"Yeah we missed you."
"Sorry, I went to bed really late," Harry explained, "I have no clue what the time was, and literally only woke up a couple of hours ago, so thought it wasn't worth just going in for the last couple of hours. Do you guys want to come in?"
Just at that moment the alarm Harry had set for when to take his muffins out of the oven went off. He excused himself and rushed into the kitchen. His friends followed him moments later. Blaine moaned as Harry set the muffins of the side to cool down, gaining strange looks from the others in the room.
"What? Have you guys ever tasted Harry's cooking?" Blaine exclaimed defensively. The other three shook their heads. "You haven't' lived until you've tasted this guy's food."
"Okay, I'm not that good. I admit I'm an awesome cook, but that's just because I've been cooking since I was able to reach a stove." Harry said.
"I think we're going to need proof." Artie declared. Harry smiled and grabbed the plate of croissants and pain au chocolats that he had made earlier. They were still slightly warm, but they were cool enough to eat.
"I'm 75% sure that they won't explode on us." Harry joked. His friends dived in, and silence reigned as they chewed.
"Harry, Blaine is right. These are incredible!" Charlie exclaimed. Between the four of them the pastries were soon gone and they moved to the living room sofas to continue their conversations. The conversation turned to Disney and Harry's friends were shocked to find out that Harry had never watched a Disney film. Apparently this was unacceptable and, as Harry didn't own a television, the four of them, after a couple of phone calls, headed to Charlie's house to 'educate' him as she apparently owned most of the films. Charlie was about to open her front door when she paused.
"I feel like I should warn you now that my siblings can be a bit… excitable." She replied quietly. Before she could say anything else the front door was opened from within and three figures darted out, squealing excitedly. Harry deduced that these must be the siblings that she had spoken of. Harry couldn't help smiling at them. It was clear to him that they loved their sister.
"Oi!" Charlie yelled, startling Harry and the others who had never heard Charlie talk in any more than a whisper, "Back I say!" She continued, brandishing a pretend sword, causing her siblings to squeal and run back into the house, "Back!"
"Sorry." Charlie said, returning to her quiet, mousy voice. Harry brushed away her apologies and they all entered her house. There was something about the place that reminded Harry of The Burrow. It was homely and one could tell that it had been well lived in. Another parallel with The Burrow that Harry noticed was that he could tell that Charlie's family wasn't very well off, but did the best with what they had. Furniture was well kept, but Harry, having cleaned such items himself for years could see the age in the items; fixes and repairs in places where others would merely buy a new piece. Despite this there was an air of family that permeated the whole house. It was a muggle Burrow.
Tears made their way down Harry's cheek as he stood in the now empty hallway, memories of the slaughter at The Burrow forcing their way into the forefront of his mind. Harry stood there numb to everything bar the flashes of fire and screams playing out. Harry suddenly felt a tug on his trouser leg, far too low for it to be of any threat. It did, however, drag Harry out of his memories. Harry looked down to see a child, who couldn't be anything but one of Charlie's siblings they looked so alike, that looked roughly two years of age gazing up at him.
"Hello." Harry said softly, "Who are you?"
"I'm Abi." The little girl said. proudly puffing out her chest as if remembering her name was some great accomplishment Harry should be in awe of. Harry smiled at the sight.
"Hi Abi, I'm Harry." He said, crouching down so that he was sat on the backs of his feet at a far more accessible height for Charlie's little sister. She clambered up onto his lap, forcing Harry to concentrate on keeping his balance so the two of them didn't fall over.
"Harry have a ouchie?" Abi asked, frowning when she touched Harry's wet face, she then looked Harry over, searching for the injury. Harry couldn't help but laugh at the girl's antics, she was uncannily like a tiny Madam Pomfrey.
"Harry doesn't-" Harry stopped. Why was he talking in the third person like a house elf? "I mean, I don't have an ouchie Abi."
The girl looked even more confused at this. "Why Harry cry?" She asked innocently. Harry cursed himself. How did one explain these kind of things to a two year old?
"I- erm- Harry was sad." He said, hoping that the little girl wouldn't dig any deeper.
"You better now?" Abi asked, tilting her head to one side. Harry had to admit that she look adorable.
"I will be." Harry replied, hoping that his words would be true someday. He decided that distraction might be the best way to go about the situation before him. "Do you want to go find your sister Abi?"
"Okay!" Abi said excitedly, standing up and clapping her hands. Harry also stood up, wiping the remains of tears from his face and holding hand out for the little girl to hold. Together they soon found Charlie and the others, who were arguing over which film to watch. Blaine wanted to watch them chronologically, whereas Artie thought that they should watch the best ones first. Abi toddled over to the stack of film boxes and picked up one and walked back over to Harry who was stood in the doorway of the room. She handed the box to Harry and looked up at him, her eyes asking the question she didn't have to actually ask. It was called Tarzan and it looked interesting, judging by the cover. Abi reached her arms up, and Harry got the idea that she wanted Harry to pick her up. Harry obliged and settled the girl on his hip, the box in the hand that wasn't holding Abi.
"Hey guys, can we watch this one?" Harry asked, holding up the box. The others all turned their heads towards him. They initially looked confused at the child that he was holding, but then smiled.
"Yes!" Artie cheered, "My favourite, Ha! Blaine, this means we aren't watching them chronologically."
Blaine sighed overdramatically, causing the others in the room to smile. They all settled down on the two sofas in the room to watch the film whilst Charlie set it up. Blaine lifted artie onto one of the sofas, so that he didn't have to sit in his wheelchair the whole time and then sat down next to the other boy. Harry on the other hand, was on the other sofa next to Marley and had Abi curled up next to him, her head on his lap. None of them had had the heart to kick her out. Abi was taking up the rest of the space on the sofa, so Charlie was going to have to sit in between Artie and Blaine. The girl in question picked up a remote and sat in the aforementioned place. Soon the movie began to play.
Harry's eyes widened when he saw the small family escape the burning ship. Harry immediately noted the music. He listened to the lyrics as he watched. On hearing the cries of the baby his heart was in his throat. Tears sprung to his eyes when he saw the dead bodies. Like his own parents, these had died to save their child. The picture that looked so much like the one of his own family; the child, a boy-who-lived. He would never know his parents. Memories, flashes of his own parent's death played in front of his eyes, over the top of the movie. He imagined the father telling his wife and child to run, to try to do anything to escape the leopard whilst he held it off, much like his own had done in vain.
Harry hated the sob that escaped him. Why had he picked this movie? Watching the movie was like watching his parents death play out. They were gone. A second sob escaped him. Harry pushed Abi's head off of his lap, careful to not make her fall, and stood up, trying to escape the room before the tears fell down his face.
He had only made if halfway to the door before his knees failed him. Harry didn't bother standing up again. His friends must have all noticed now. Harry brought his knees up and buried his face in them in an attempt to stem the flow of tears from his face. He had been crying just minutes beforehand. Why did he have to be so weak? His friends could see him 'd already seen him cry once before, they much think he was such a wimp. He vaguely noted that someone had stopped the movie, but Harry didn't care. All he could see was his father, his mother, in their last moments. Those few memories he actually had of them; the same ones the dementors dragged to the forefront of his mind. Why did they have to die? He needed them. He had never known parents but he missed them so badly that it hurt.
He heard a door open and close and felt a hand on his shoulder a few moments later. He flinched slightly, but didn't pull away from it.
"Harry, are you okay?" a voice that Harry knew to be Marley's asked some time later. Harry sniffed deeply and forced the feelings down, stopping the tears and looked up at her.
"I-" Harry didn't know what to say. It wasn't as if he was going to be able to tell a plausible lie about it all. He debated it it for a few minutes before deciding to just tell them. They were all his friends. It wasn't as if they hated him and they knew that his parents were dead. "-My parents."
Marley gasped, apparently not needing to hear any more, and drew him into a hug. After a moment she drew back and looked into Harry's eyes concerned. Harry looked around the room. Abi was gone; Artie was still on the sofa next to Blaine, unable to come over due to not being in his chair; and Charlie was halfway between himself and the door, looking like she wanted to come closer, but at the same time not wanting to intrude. Harry stood up, Marley following him, and walked over to the sofa and sat down. He knew that he was going to have to explain himself to them, at least slightly.
"The movie- I." Harry took a deep breath, wringing his hands together. "My parents d-died when I was a year old. There was a kind of underground war in England in the 70s. My parents got on the wrong side of the wrong people. They were in hiding and trusted the wrong people.T-they were murdered. My dad tried to hold him off, telling my mother to run. She b-begged him to s-spare me. They both died protecting me."
Harry's voice broke. "That kid. His parents- the gun. I-"
Harry was engulfed in a hug. It wasn't a suffocating hug, nor a claustrophobic one. Harry drew comfort from the hug, hugging back after a moment of surprise. It was Marley hugging him again. He liked Marley's hugs. After a few minutes she drew back, but didn't let him go. He could tell that none of the others knew what to say.
"Harry, we can watch another film if you want." Artie said from over where he was sat. Harry shook his head.
"I'll be fine."
"Harry." Marley said. Harry turned his head to look at her, only to see that she was giving him a look similar to the one that Hermione had so often given him when he was being stupid. Harry sighed, knowing that resistance would be futile.
"Fine. We can watch something else then."
They ended up watching Aladdin, which Harry personally thought had been an awesome movie. Once the movie was over they all went their separate ways, making a solemn promise to educate Harry further the following week. Harry really didn't understand why a Disney education was so important, but he enjoyed spending the time with his friends, so he wasn't going to stop them if they were so insistent on it.
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Stu is tired of warning and waiting
whilst you are on his nerves grating.
For you never listen to his berating
and soon he will be you a-hating.
For if you don't listen to his plea
You will end up a ghost, like he!
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