*Author's Note:
Trigger Warning: anxiety attacks
Please note I don't personally suffer from anxiety attacks and while I did some research I cannot guarantee that I am in anyway accurate.
Also I don't know if it's been in anyway clear from the start of this story but Harry constantly wears a set of fingerless gloves to cover the scars on her wrists/arms. I imagine them looking something like this .ca/en/ip/HDE-Women-Fingerless-Long-Gloves-Thumbhole-Arm-Warmer-Sleeve-Elbow-Length-Black/57BOSC3BXO9Z but only going up to her elbow. They're supposed to be a stretchy material so she can easily take her thumb out of the hole and they can be pushed up to her wrists to allow her to wash her hands. I know this is an oddly specific detail to want to clarify but it bothers me that I hadn't clarified it enough early in the story and readers may be wondering why no one has commented on scars that are mentioned.*
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Harry and the guys were gathered in Finn's room playing video games and introducing Harry to the joys of rock and roll. Kurt had originally been with them but he had quickly grown bored of Halo and went off to make dinner before Mr. Hummel could, as Kurt had put it, create yet another high-fat high-cholesterol health monstrosity of a meal.
Harry smiled to herself as she killed Puck yet again. Puck could never quite understand how Harry being extremely new to playing video games routinely kicked his, and everybody else's ass. To Harry it was remarkably simple, combat games were nothing compared to real combat. Harry was hyper-aware of her environment and had incredibly fast reflexes. Two things that meant the different between life and death in combat but which also gave her a decisive edge when it came to video games. So, Harry kicked ass at video games, which was a feat that gained her almost instant acceptance with the majority of the male members of the Glee club. Harry surprisingly loved hanging out with the guys. They were laid back, weren't obsessed with music like most of the girls, didn't grill her on her personal life, and were honestly funny. It reminded Harry of hanging out with Ron, Neville, and the twins. As a result, Harry was more than willing to deal with the night terrors that were triggered by the war-style video games the guys preferred. However, Harry had had to draw the line a couple weeks ago when Puck had gotten a new video game, Harry couldn't remember its name but it had been combat-based like most of his video games, but instead of the normal guns, explosives, and phasers, the characters used magic. It had triggered a panic attack and a series of flashbacks in Harry. She'd escaped to the bathroom and had barely been able to avoid letting the others know what was going on. She'd been lucky to find cleaning supplies in the bathroom and had scrubbed the bathroom from top to bottom in order to calm down. She was still surprised that most of the guys had bought her excuse of "it's a female thing you wouldn't understand" when they'd questioned her on spending over an hour in the bathroom. Harry had left Puck's almost immediately after leaving the bathroom. However, the next day at school she had pulled Puck aside and informed him that he wasn't to play that game when she was around. He'd clearly thought it strange but had agreed. He'd then thanked her for cleaning the bathroom, as apparently it had put his mom into a really good mood which was good for him.
"Hey man, when is dinner going to be ready? I'm starving!" Puck asked as their match ended.
"Soon, I think, but seriously don't look forward to it. Kurt is cooking which means it's going to be nothing but super healthy but super gross food." Finn answered.
"Ugh, seriously, if I'm going to make the effort to eat disgusting diet food I better be on a date with a Cheerio and getting lucky afterwards." Puck sneered.
"I know, right? We might as well wander out and check to see how much longer it's going to be. It's 6:30 now so there might not be enough time for another match before food's ready."
"Sure, whatever." Puck got up from his spot on the bed and reached down to Harry, taking her hand and pulling her up from her spot on the floor.
The trio tromped down the stairs to the kitchen, following the unusual and rather unappetizing smells to the kitchen.
"Hey, Kurt, how much longer until dinner's ready?" Finn asked, looking vaguely disappointed when he couldn't see any meat.
"Five more minutes. So, wash up and make yourselves useful by setting the table."
"Sure, okay." Finn left the room to go wash up in the bathroom, Puck following behind rather than staying in the kitchen. Harry turned to the kitchen sink, pushing her fingerless gloves up until they just covered her wrists and washed her hands automatically while Kurt was busy puttering around the kitchen. She approached the stove where Kurt was busy mashing what appeared to be turnips. Harry didn't see any butter or seasonings around and noticed that Kurt only added a little bit of skim milk.
"Thanks for having me for dinner, Kurt. I really appreciate you going to the effort of making food."
"You're welcome, Harry." He smiled at her.
"What did you make?"
"Well, I've got mashed turnips, a spinach-based garden salad, and a chickpea curry."
"Oh, wow, you've been busy!"
"Yeah, but it's worth it to serve actually healthy food. If I let my dad have his way we'd be eating meat and potatoes nearly every night." Harry nodded in understanding.
"Have you ever tried mixing carrots in with the mashed turnips? The carrots natural sweetness pairs well with the flavour of the turnips."
"No, I haven't. I'll have to give it a shot next time. Do you cook?"
"Yep, my aunt taught me when I was younger. I used to spend summers at my aunt and uncle's before we came to America, and I did most of the cooking when I was there."
"I'm still fairly new to cooking myself. Would you mind if I occasionally bug you for advice?"
"I'd love it! Cooking is actually one of my favourite things to do. Finn mentioned that you're trying to cook healthier because of your dad, right?"
"Yes, he had a heart attack, so we're doing a whole life-style change even if I have to drag him kicking and screaming."
"Life-style changes are hard on everybody involved, but I think it's hardest on the one enforcing it. When we put my cousin on a diet he fought it every step of the way, literally kicking and screaming and breaking things to try to get his own way. My aunt used to cry whenever he threw a fit because she knew that they had reached the point where if he didn't lose weight he'd probably die by the time he was twenty."
"My goodness! How old was your cousin and how big was he?"
"Dudley's my age, we started putting him on diet's when he was thirteen and had finally achieved his long-time threat of being bigger around than he was tall."
"Oh, my Lady Gaga he must have been enormous!" Kurt dropped his spoon in shock.
"He was. But I ended up with tons of experience cooking healthy meals that tasted good enough that he would eat it without throwing a fit."
"Oh wow, well I'd love to benefit from your experience."
"Would you like to start now, before we feed the two picky children currently setting the table."
"But the food's already done!"
"Yes it is, but we should do a taste-test, it's never too late to modify flavours with some seasonings if you don't like how things taste."
"How do you mean?"
"Well take your mashed turnips for instance. What seasonings did you add to it?"
"Um none, I used some skim milk for mashing though."
"Okay, well I want you to try a spoonful now, and if you don't mind I'll add some seasonings to it and then you can try it again and see what I mean. And if people don't like it you can blame me. Sound good?"
"Sure,"
"Great, point me in the direction of your spice rack!" He hesitantly grinned at Harry and pointed her in the right direction. "Perfect, do you have any honey?"
"Um yes, let me get it for you. Are you going to put honey in my turnips?"
"Yep, along with ginger, garlic, and oregano. Brown sugar can be used in place of honey, but health-wise honey is better." Harry smiled at Kurt as she accepted the honey and mixed a little in. "And voila! Now try!" Kurt sampled the spoonful she'd passed him and his eyes lit up in delight.
"Harry, this is amazing! It's ten times better than it was before! Check the curry! See if you can make it better!" She took a sample of the curry for herself and handed a second one to Kurt.
"Okay, you've got a good curry base here, but it needs a little something to kick up the flavours because it's bordering on bland. I'd recommend adding cayenne and chili powder." She sprinkled some in, mixed it up, and handed Kurt another sample.
"Holy Barbara Streisand! You did it again! What about my salad?"
"Salad requires a bit more work. The best way to enhance a salad is to add ingredients that give it interesting textures and pops of flavour. Mind if I quickly raid your fridge to see what you have?"
"Go ahead and work your magic again!"
Harry got to work immediately gathering ingredients, chopping them, and tossing them in the salad, explaining as she went.
"Quick rundown; I'm adding apple because it gives a great crunch and its sweetness is a nice contrast to the slightly bitter spinach. The leftover chickpeas are going in because not only are they super-healthy but the nutty flavour and the texture make the other ingredients really pop. Finally, the sunflower seeds add a great crunch. Be careful when adding nuts and seeds because you don't want them to be salted. Now, that should do it for the salad. Would you like help carrying the food out to the table?"
"Yes, please. Thank you so much for the help!"
"It was my pleasure, whenever you have any cooking questions in the future don't hesitate to ask me."
"Finally! You said the food would be ready in five minutes ten minutes ago!" Puck complained as they entered the kitchen with the food.
"Oh, hush it you! Works of art take time and you should never rush your chef." Harry countered as she set down the food and took a seat.
"Sure, sure, whatever." Puck muttered as people began serving themselves.
"Thanks for making dinner, Kurt, I'm sure it's going to taste great." Mr. Hummel pointedly said, making stern faces at Puck and Finn, even though it was readily apparent that he was not looking forward to actually eating the food.
Mrs. Hummel smiled at Kurt, thanking him too, before taking a bite of her salad. "Oh my gosh! Kurt, this is the best salad you've ever made!" The boys seemed shocked at her reaction and they all quickly took forkfuls of salad to try. Their wide surprised eyes made Harry laugh, even as Kurt's chest swelled with pride at the realization that he had finally made something healthy that the others actually liked.
Food quickly started disappearing off of people's plates as moans and words of approval swam through the air.
As the plates were scraped by hungry utensils, Burt looked at his son clearly impressed. "Kurt, that was the best meal you've cooked since you started on this health kick!"
"Yeah, dude it was actually really good!" Finn enthused and Harry repressed a sigh at his unintentional insult.
"Thanks, but I have to admit I had a little help. Harry's the real start tonight."
"Pish tosh, all I did was sample your already good dishes and gave you a little advice. This fabulous dinner was 99.99% you." Kurt smiled thankfully at her.
"Oh, do you cook Harry?" Burt looked at her appraisingly, a sly glint in his eyes.
"Yes, for years now, my aunt taught me when I was younger."
"Kurt's just learning to cook now, and he's doing an amazing job."
"Thanks dad," Kurt replied, "But you're clearly up to something what is it?"
"I was thinking you might enjoy some cooking lessons. There's only so much that you can learn from the internet and cookbooks. And if Harry's little bit of coaching made even Finn like healthy food then you two are clearly a great team in the kitchen."
"No offense, Mr. Hummel, but I already have a job, I run a cleaning business that is associated with Puck's pool-cleaning business. I'm more than happy to be a sounding board and an information source for Kurt whenever he wants, but I'm not looking for a job."
"Okay, okay, it was just an idea. But how about anytime you two want to collaborate you stay for dinner as a thank you." Ah, so that had been his play, Mr. Hummel wanted to make sure she got something to eat, and an excuse for her being where he could keep an eye on her. How strange, incredibly kind of him, but strange.
"Well, that sounds reasonable, if you don't mind me invading your home Kurt."
"If you're going to help me cook healthily in way that avoids kicking and screaming I'm more than happy to have you share our table."
"Thanks, now would you like some help with the dishes?"
"Ah, ah, ah, Kurt cooked so it's Finn's turn to do the dishes. Guests don't clean."
"Aw man," Finn muttered and his mom sent him a scolding look.
"Oh, okay, oh wow, is that the time?" Harry exclaimed as the hall clock chimed the hour. "I've got to get home! Thank you so much for a lovely dinner. I'll see you guys at school. Have a great night Mr. and Mrs. Hummel." Harry excused herself from the table, grabbing her bag from the living room, before waving her goodbyes and nearly running out the door.
As she drove home Harry contemplated on the idea that Mr. Hummel was actually concerned enough for her welfare that he'd try to manufacture situations where he could feed her and keep an eye on her.
She'd never had an adult so involved with her well-being before. Sure, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were practically substitute parents for her. But it wasn't like they cared about her grades or whether or not she got in trouble. They cared for her just as much as they cared about any of their children's friends. In case of point they treated her just like they treated Hermione.
And perhaps the greatest indicator that they didn't truly care for her and her welfare, when the twins and Ron had rescued her in the summer before second year, they had tried to tell their parents about Harry's home conditions and their parents had dismissed what they were saying. Then Molly had force fed her at every meal until Harry would have to sneak outside into the orchard afterward to puke up everything that shed eaten. Molly and Arthur didn't listen to her and by the time second year had finished she had given up on them.
All the other adults in her life were more concerned with their own goals than with her. Sirius put his revenge first; Remus moving on with his life and maintaining a job; Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon with being normal and better than everybody else. All of the adults in Surrey were more involved with their own lives than with noticing a child that needed their help. And of course, the whole wizarding world just saw her as the Girl-Who-Lived and forced her to live up to those expectations. Dumbledore was the worst of the lot, shaping her into his ideal weapon from the second that he placed her with the Dursley's; all to serve his 'greater good'.
So, for Mr. Hummel to care enough about Harry, just Harry, no titles or money or political power, enough to manufacture situations where he can check up on her and make sure she's fed made Harry feel weird. It was nice, she supposed, but mostly it made her resentful that no one else, despite deeper relationships, had ever bothered to do the same for her.
By the time Harry reached her apartment she felt like the conflicting emotions were tearing her apart. Her hands shook and she felt on the verge of tears. She needed to do something to clam herself down. Cleaning had always worked in the past, lulling her into a sort of blank mental space. The only problem was that her apartment was both already clean and also too lacking in stuff to even bother tidying it. If only it wasn't the evening, she could have just gone and cleaned one of her clients' houses.
The sound of running feet from the apartment above her jolted Harry out of her thoughts. A flash of inspiration hit her as she remembered the lovely elderly Mrs. Rodriguez above stairs who was raising her two great-grandbabies. Surely the woman could use a hand cleaning. Mrs. Rodriguez consistently struggled with bringing her groceries up the stairs, which is how Harry had originally met her.
Harry gathered her to-go bag of cleaning supplies and quickly headed upstairs to knock on the door.
"Hello?" Mrs. Rodriguez greeted her, looking around suspiciously at the hallway.
"Hi, this might be a really weird request, but I've currently got a really strong urge to clean, but my apartment is already clean. I thought that I could come upstairs and offer you my services to clean anything that you need cleaned. I figured with two active youngsters that you might appreciate the help."
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why do you have an urge to clean? You're not on drugs are you?"
"No, no, no drugs! I'm just upset over something and cleaning helps me calm down. I'm sorry if I offended you by offering. I just thought it would be neighbourly to offer." Mrs. Rodriguez looked at her suspiciously for a long moment before stepping back and letting her in.
"The shower needs a good scrubbing; bathroom is straight through that door." She gestured as the kids stopped playing to stare at her in curiosity. She gave them a smile, a quick wave with trembling hands, and then ducked into the bathroom to begin cleaning.
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Burt was just finishing up with his nightly check of windows and doors when Kurt approached him.
"Dad?"
"Yeah, Kurt, what's up?"
"Why did you push the idea of Harry giving me cooking lessons?"
"It's nothing against your cooking, and I really appreciate how much you've stepped up and everything you've been doing. I just thought that cooking lessons would give you some extra confidence and ideas in the kitchen."
"Okay, now mind telling me the real reason?"
"What?"
"Dad, I know you, I know when you're trying to avoid telling me something. Now, what's your real reason?" Burt paused struggling to figure out what to tell Kurt. "Dad, I promise I won't gossip about whatever this is about."
"I know that Kurt, I never thought that you would. It's just that I can't tell you about it. What I can tell you is that I'm a little concerned and I would like to keep an eye on things."
"I can accept that. But, Dad, is Harry in any danger?"
"I...I don't know. But if you ever got concerned about her or notice anybody weird or strange, even if it's easily explained away or you don't know why, I want you to trust your gut and call me immediately. Do you understand?"
"Yes, I do. I promise I'll take this seriously."
"Good, that's good. You're a good kid, Kurt, you've got a good head on your shoulders and a giant heart just like your mom's."
"Thanks," Burt hugged Kurt tightly, holding on for longer than usual before letting go.
"Now, I think it's bedtime for you."
"Yeah, I can't skimp on my beauty sleep." Burt smiled, arm slung over Kurt's shoulders as they headed upstairs, "Night, Kurt, I love you."
"Love you too, Dad."
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"And that's your oven cleaned. Is there anything else that you would like me to do, Mrs. Rodriguez?"
"Yes, sit." Mrs. Rodriguez gestured at the kitchen table as the bustled around the counter making tea.
"Pardon?"
"Sit, sit, I said sit so you should go sit your behind down."
"Oh, okay," Harry, although confused, quickly found herself sitting down at the table. She became even more confused as Mrs. Rodriguez sat down across from her, setting two mugs of tea on the table and sliding one over to her.
"Drink, it's good." It did smell good, a soothing blend of cinnamon and berries, but paranoia was second nature to Harry and she hesitated to drink it.
"What is this?"
"It's just a rooibos tea with cinnamon and blueberries. It's one of my favourites, very comforting. You seemed like you needed it."
"Thank you," Harry took a hesitant sip, pleased with the taste but still wanting to see if there were any side-effects from something being slipped in, before she took another sip. "It is quite good, and here I thought that America couldn't produce a good cup of tea."
"You just have to look in the right places. Now, I wanted to talk to you."
"Yes, what about?" Harry fought to keep the nerves out of her voice.
"Relax, I don't intend to harm you or to go to the police. I'm just concerned about you, especially after that anxiety attack you just had."
"I don't know what you mean."
"Please, I know what an anxiety attack looks like, my husband, God rest his soul, suffered them frequently after returning from the war."
"Is that what it's called, those feelings, an anxiety attack?"
"Oh, child, you've been going it alone for a very long time, haven't you?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Of course you don't. It's just so painfully obvious if anyone truly cared to look that you've needed someone in your corner for quite a while but no one has truly been there for you. I mean just look at you, so fiercely independent, able to take care of yourself, more than happy to help others, but you're unable to ask for help when you need it or to even truly recognize when you need it."
"I don't know what- "
"Oh hush, I'm not going to push that. I just want to be somebody in your corner. Now, tell me, what triggered your anxiety attack?"
"It's stupid." Harry muttered looking away.
"I'd triggered my Carlos more than a few times just by shutting the oven door too loudly. Doesn't matter how small or stupid it seems, it's important to identify your triggers so that you can begin to create strategies for dealing with them. Now, what triggered your anxiety attack?"
"I was over at a...friend's house, and I helped my one friend make dinner. Everyone really liked it and his dad tried to subtly arrange it so that I would give his son cooking lessons, and as a result be at their place more often so that he could keep a better eye on me and make sure I was getting fed."
"Ah, and his interest in you creeped you out?"
"No, actually, I thought it was very caring."
"Mmhmm. Does he know about your home situation?"
"Yeah, he worked out that something wasn't right, and when he confronted me on it I told him more than I meant to."
"And he was worried?"
"Yeah, but I convinced him not to do anything, that this was the best option."
"I see, but he's still going out of his way to help you even while still respecting your wishes?"
"Yeah,"
"I think I understand the cause of your anxiety attack. This man was in your corner even though he had no obligation to be there. And it was weird for you and it reminded you of all the times when somebody should have been in your corner and wasn't. Which would have triggered your anxiety attack. How did I do?"
"Spot on, but how did you know?" Harry's hand gave a barely noticeable tremble as she stared at her neighbour in awe.
"Simple, I'm old. I've raised my son, and my grand-daughter, and now my great-grandkids. I've mothered their friends, and watched them grow. I've seen history happen; I've lived through the death of loved ones and the birth of others. I know people, what they're like, what they do, and who they are at the core of things. In short I'm an old lady, I know everything." Harry sat there unsure of how to respond. "Now, let's talk strategies for dealing with your anxiety attacks."
The two talked for over two hours before Mrs. Rodriguez sent Harry back to her apartment with an admonishment to get a good night's sleep.