A/N: I'm sorry that I didn't update earlier, but I've barely been able to get up from bed during the last week and I'm still somewhat sick, even if I'm better already.

This idea was one of the first one's I had and the first time I wrote it, it didn't turn out the right way. This is the second version and I like this a lot better, it's more descriptive and gives reasons as to why, not just that the Dursleys are dead.

I'm going to write a short sequel for this one about Harry's reaction of going to McKinley high and his first day.

On that particular Saturday morning Carole woke up with a feeling that something horrible had happened. It was the same feeling she had had when her youngest sister had died almost fifteen years ago and when Christopher had died in Middle East three years latter. While her first instinct was to check on Finn down in the basement, she turned to look at Burt whom she found sound asleep exactly where she left him when she went to sleep: right next to her. She checked his breathing and pulse (which was a bit quicker than her own but nothing to worry about) and was satisfied when both were steady. Kurt, she knew, was sleeping in his bed and was as healthy as possible, after all, he needed his beauty sleep and he ate healthier than anyone.

A terrible thought hit her. Finn had still been out when she'd gone to bed. Getting up quickly and silently, like only a mother could, she slipped on her slippers and threw on her dressing gown, making her way downstairs, through the living room and down the basement steps. Her heart went cold and she gripped the railing as she stared at the empty bed her son should have been sleeping in.

Kurt's restless movement, like he sensed someone looking in his general direction, snapped Carole back to reality and she dashed back up to the living room only to stop dead in her tracks.

Finn was sleeping on the couch, clothes rumpled and only somewhat dirty. What was most important though, was the steady rising and lowering of his chest under the quilt he'd somehow managed to drag over himself. Relief filled her chest and weakly she made her way to her son, only to sit beside him on the couch.

Silently, her eyes traced his features and soaked in his silent strength that finally showed itself last year. While he wasn't identical to his father, he reminded her strongly of him. Finn had Chris' jaw, eyes, forehead and hair and self-centered but righteous attitude. She sincerely hoped it wouldn't lead to his death like it had led to Chris'.

She stroke Finn's cheek gently and continued to do so when he stirred.

"M'm?" her half asleep son mumbled and tried to swat her hand away.

"Why aren't you sleeping in your bed, sweetie?" Carole asked with a slight smile.

Confused, Finn looked around. Then a light bulb seemed to turn on in his head. "Came 'ome t' late. Was 'fraid 'd wake Kurt 'n' make 'im 'ngry at m'," came the mumbled explanation.

A smile spread over Carole's face. She didn't know any other person who were as considerate as Finn. Oh, Kurt was considerate too, but in a different, more subtle way. He'd have no problem with waking someone up in the middle of the night but she knew from Burt's tales that it was Kurt who made sure Burt ate something else than beer and meat pies, Kurt nagged Burt to keep in contact with his friends out side the garage, Kurt made sure things were in their right places and Kurt was the one who left the small post-its around the house to remind the other occupants of the house of their schedules that day. How Kurt found out she had a lunch date with her friends she'd never know. Hell, he was the one who introduced her and Burt to each other! Finn, on the other hand, wasn't so subtle. He arranged his schedule around everyone else's: he showered in the evenings because Kurt hoarded their bathroom in the mornings, he took out the garbage without asking, he often gave the remote to the other person who came to watch TV with him (unless there was an important game on right that moment) and he always left hot water over when he showered.

"Why don't you go to bed, sweetie? It's 7:30 already and I'll be making noise in the kitchen," Carole patted his cheek and got up.

With an agreeing sound, Finn got up and stumbled to the basement door with half lidded eyes. Carole shook her head in amusement. Teenagers.

Not ten seconds latter there was a crash and a loud "FINN HUDSON! GET OFF OF ME THIS INSTANT! YOU'RE CRUSHING MY LUNGS! And Why Are You Coming Back This Late? Or is it early?" Carole didn't hear her son's answer and pushed the basement door closed with an other shake of her head. They already acted like siblings even if Kurt's crush in Finn had complicated things in the beginning.

With the thought of siblings the horrible feeling came back with a vengeance. She took a deep breath to calm her raging emotions. She'd make breakfast, have a cup of tea (1) and think things through rationally.

Not an hour latter the phone rang and Carole picked it up with her left hand, her tea held in the other.

"This is the Hummel residence, Carole Hudson speaking," she greeted and took a sip from her tea.

"I'm sorry to bother you this early in the morning, Mrs. Hudson," a young female voice said down the line. "I'm Cheryl Beckett from Surrey central hospital in England. I regret to inform you that your sister Petunia Dursley née Evans and her husband Vernon Dursley died in a car crash early this morning."

Icy needles punctured Carole's heart and her hand that held her tea became slack. Her tea fell. Her other baby sister was dead. First her parents, then Lily, then Chris and now Petunia. But what about the children? What became of her nephews?

"W-what about my nephews? Dudley Dursley and Harry Potter?" she asked weakly and clutched the phone.

"Dudley Dursley was inside the car when the accident happened but he survived with only a few bruises and scratches. Harry Potter is still at his boarding school and according to my knowledge he should be arriving to King's Cross Station in London on next Friday," Cheryl explained. "As his next kin, his guardianship would transfer to you if you wanted or h could go to a foster home until he comes off age. Vernon Dursley's sister, a miss Marge Dursley, has already obtained custody of Dudley Dursley but won't even consider taking Mr. Potter."

"Can-can I get back to someone about Harry's custody?" stammered Carole. "I'll-I'll need to talk with my partner about it first."

"Of course ma'am, do you have writing utensils nearby?" Cheryl enquired politely.

"Yes, just a minute," Carole was already reaching for the post-its on the kitchen counter and then the magnetic pen in the fridge. "Okay."

"Mr. Charlie Davidson from Social Service had been assigned to Mr. Potter's case. His number is-" Cheryl listed a string of numbers which Carole wrote down dutifully. (2) "He should be able to answer any questions you might have."

"Thank you Ms. Beckett," Carole answered and put the pen down.

"I'm sorry for your loss Mrs. Hudson," Cheryl's sympathy filled voice came from the phone before the line went dead.

Carol put the phone down and went to the kitchen table. In daze she sat down and stared at nothing, silent tears streaming down her face.

That's how Burt found her fifteen minutes later, tear tracks on her face. Concern filled him immediately and he went to sit next to her. "Carole? What's happened?"

Tears began to stream down her face anew. "My baby sister's dead. She and her husband died in a car accident."

Understanding flooded him and he wrapped his strong arms around her shaking shoulders, letting her cry to his shoulder, all the while murmuring reassuring nonsense to her ear.

Soon though, she had no more tears left to cry and simply rested her throbbing head on his shoulder, drinking up his silent comfort. Then her thoughts turned to her nephew. She breathed through her nose to collect herself before raising her head. "Thank you for holding me," she said in a wet voice.

"Any time, love, any time," answered Burt and stroke her hair lovingly. She smiled weakly. "Wanna talk about it?"

She didn't but she knew she'd feel better after wards. "You know I'm from England, right?" Burt nodded. That he found out on their second date. "My family consisted of my parents, my two younger sisters and me. Petunia is… was three years younger than I am and Lily was two years younger than she was. I was twenty when I met Chris, he was twenty-two and engaged to his high school sweet heart. He tried to woo me but I told him bluntly to get rid of his engagement because I had no intention to become a secret mistress. We didn't meet again until I got my first job as a nurse in a military hospital, I was twenty-two. He was there to be treated for a bullet wound to the shoulder and sooner than I noticed I spent more time talking with him than taking care of him. I had just turned twenty-three when he proposed and I accepted. Not three weeks later my parents died and after the funerals we moved here, to Lima. Pretty soon I was pregnant with Finn and he was born June 5th '94, two weeks after I turned twenty four. When I was twenty-five both Petunia and Lily had married and gave birth to two boys, Dudley Dursley and Harry Potter. On Halloween '96 Lily and her husband were murdered and Harry was given to Petunia. According to her he was on their door step on the ext morning. The following year, I got the worst Christmas gift ever, Chris came back in a box. And now Petunia's dead too..."

Burt had been quiet during her tale and squeezed her shoulders in all the places in which he felt Carole needed comfort. "What about the boys... your nephews?"

"That's one thing we need to talk about," Carole began. "Dudley has been taken in by his paternal aunt, Marge Dursley. Harry... either I can take his guardianship or he goes to a foster home."

Ice filled Burt.

Foster home...

Not on his watch.

Not again.

Not after what happened to his childhood friend Josh in one of them.

"No kid is going to a foster home if I can help it," he said quietly. "I don't know if they're different over there than here but there's no way I'm dooming anyone into one. We can take care of him. We might need to maneuver the sleeping arrangements a little but I'm sure we can fit him somewhere in this house."

"Fit whom?" asked a sleepy Kurt from the doorway and made his way to the fridge. He took out a carton of strawberry flavored yoghurt and closed the fridge. Next he took a bowl from one of the cabinets and plucked a table spoon from a drawer. Lastly he took a box of muesli from a cupboard and carried his booty to the table. "Who were you talking about?"

Neither adult said anything, only staring at his tangled and pointing-in-every-direction hair.

"Kurt," Burt began carefully, "do you know what your hair-"

Kurt silenced him with a murderous glare. "It's not even 9:30 on a Saturday morning, I can look exactly what the hell I fell like. And let me tell you, I feel like hell. I tried to stay up until Finn got home to make sure the idiot wouldn't strangle himself when he took off his clothes but I fell asleep around one am. My dreams were weird and I woke up all through the night. Then, when I finally fell into a somewhat peaceful sleep, Finn comes and crashes on top of me. During the last hour I've been trying to ignore Finn's snoring, so excuse me if I don't feel like being pretty at the moment."

Not once did he raise his voice but at the end he relaxed a little. Even his hair seemed to fall down and obey gravity once again when he poured the yoghurt into the bowl almost instantly followed by muesli.

"You still haven't answered my question, who's going to fit into this house?" Kurt asked, ignoring his earlier rant and looked at his dad expectantly.

Burt and Carole glanced at each other before Burt turned back to him.

"That is something we need to discuss with all four of us present," the older Hummel finally said.

"I can go wake Finn," Kurt offered with an innocent look on his face. Neither adult bought it.

"During dinner today."

Kurt rolled his eyes and took a spoonful of his breakfast.

Having grown up in the house as an only child, he knew it better than anyone, including his dad. He knew all the loose floor planks and wall panels. He knew from which corner it was blowing in just by listening. He knew where a spider colony lived and where the mice family slept. He knew which steps creaked and where you could hear everything said in the kitchen or the living room.

But he also knew where there was an unused room which is why he suggested it as this "Harry's" bedroom.

"What about the attic?"

"No," answered Burt right away.

"Why not?" inquired Kurt with narrowed eyes.

Both Hudsons switched looking between the father and the son, knowing they both were incredibly stubborn.

"Because it isn't suitable for winter use," Burt answered. "Why do you think your room is in the basement?"

"Because I can't stand heights," Kurt tossed back. "And of course it's suitable for winter use. Where do you think I slept after that fight we had two years ago?"

"The library?" offered Burt hopefully.

Kurt snorted. "Yeah, if I wanted asthma. No, I took a couple of the big pillows and quilts and went to the attic. Sure it was a bit chilly but nothing a few small repair can't change. They'll be easy to make when we're redecorating the room. If you don't want to help cleaning it, you don't have to. I'm sure I can do it by myself tomorrow if I have to, but I would appreciate help repairing the walls. Now that this discussion is over, we can go back to dinner. Finn, would you please pass the vegetables?"

"But Kurt-"

"I said over!" snapped the teenager and took the vegetables Finn offered. "Carole, these vegetables are delicious, what do you add to them?"

"Just some honey when they're frying, dear," answered Carole who wanted to dissolve the tension between the Hummels. "It's a trick I came up with to make sure Finn ate his vegetables as a kid. If it was sweet, he'd eat it. He even tried to add sugar to his potatoes once when I wasn't looking but he couldn't eat them. (3)"

Kurt laughed. "I believe I tried something similar with syrup and sausage. Let me tell you, it was even worse than sausage without syrup..."

Next day Kurt held to his word: he emptied the attic of the few boxes stored there, dusted the place, vacuumed, washed the windows and finally mopped the floor with all the windows open on all four windows. All this was done in light blue khakis, deep blue tank top and sky blue apron, no shoes or socks in sight, and his iPod was in his apron pocket, headset on. By three in the afternoon it was sparkling like the best of them in the summer sun, at least if you ignored the condition the walls were in. That was taken care of by Burt who had been shopping for repair materials most of the time Kurt had been cleaning.

The morning after Kurt was a bit stiff, not used to so intense cleaning. When he hobbled to the kitchen Burt fussed over him and even made his tea (4) for him (a first, and it was horrible, but Kurt appriciated the effort).

"Dad, I'm fine, honestly," Kurt finally said when he'd had enough. "So what if my muscles are a bit stiff, they'll loosen up during the day. Say Carole, have you already called that Mr. Davidson to tell him that you've decided to take Harry?"

"Yes, the call ended fifteen minutes ago," Carole nodded and sipped her tea. "Harry'll be arriving here on Sunday evening."

"Oh," Kurt frowned. "I can't be here to welcome him then. I promised Mercedes weeks ago I'd spend the night at her place. We're going to watch the musical marathon on one of the movie channels and then we're going to-"

"Okay, Kurt, I think we get the picture!" Burt interrupted and fidgeted uncomfortably. He loved Kurt, he really did, but he didn't need to know that he talked about boys with his girl friends like he had talked about girls with his boy friends. "It's too bad, really, you're the one who has decorated this place, you should be the one to show it off."

Kurt chuckled a was nice to know he was appreciated at home when in school his peers just... just didn't understand him, save Mercedes... "Yes, it's a shame but I can't help it..."

Kurt's fidgeting was making Mercedes nervous, he could tell from the way she ate the popcorn like there was no tomorrow. But there was no way he could help it! Harry's plane had landed almost two hours ago and surely they were already home! And he wasn't there to welcome him and show him around to see all the reactions! It was unfair! He wanted to hear the praise of his decorating style!

And of course he wanted to meet Harry himself...

"Okay, what's up Kurt?" Mercedes finally snapped and paused 'My Fair Lady'. "Normally you're relaxed after you've redecorated something and now you just can't sit still."

"Oh, uh, sorry Mercedes," Kurt sighed and bowed his head. "It's just... Finn's cousin... I'm not there... my pride and joy... he doesn't like it? ...from England... fancy boarding school... And now I'm not there to see his first reactions to the rooms!"

"I didn't understand even half of what you just said," answered Mercedes. "Only something about Finn's cousin, from England and a boarding school. Could you please explain a little better?"

Kurt bit his lip. "Finn's aunt died and now his cousin is coming to live with us. It was his room that I redecorated. What if he doesn't like it? I spent hours upon hours on that room, Mercedes! What if it's not up to his standards? He's been to a fancy British boarding school since he was eleven! I've seen pictures from that kind of schools. How is anything supposed to compete with that? And only mental cases or the crème de la crème goes to one! How am I supposed to act if he's some English gentleman? What if he's anti-gay? Or some super Christian? Or he dresses better than I do?"

"Calm down, Kurt!" Mercedes chastised him. "You know anything about him?

"Only that he's a year younger than me and that he's gone to that fancy boarding school," Kurt answered. "For all I know he could be a one eyed freak with three arms or a bully worse than Karofsky!"

"So you're concentrating on all the negative stuff," Mercedes narrowed her eyes. "Has it even crossed your mind that he could be gorgeous, kind and smart?"

Actually it hadn't even crossed Kurt's thoughts, he'd been too caught up in the fact that Harry was younger than he was: it wouldn't be fair if he was gorgeous and kind and smart, because Kurt wanted someone older (or at least same age) than him, someone who would take care of him! "No, I haven't thought of that," he frowned. "Besides, he's younger than us, and with our luck, he's a homophobic racist or something."

"You're always such a bag of sunshine aren't you?" smirked Mercedes. "Now that you've told me what's bothering you, do you think you can sit still for the rest of the movie? You're gonna met him tomorrow anyway."

"Yeah," Kurt nodded with a thoughtful expression, "I think I can."

Mercedes continued the movie and they fell into the story of Eliza Doolittle and Henry Higgins.

With a sigh Kurt sat down to the park bench with his art pad and pencil case. When he'd gotten home half-an-hour ago he'd found the house empty. There were messages on the fridge that assured him they were all alive: Finn was on a date with Rachel, Carole and his dad were in the supermarket and Harry was apparently on a walk. He left his own message under Harry's hastily scribbled one (Harry had an awful penmanship), telling them he'd gone to the park and not to worry.

He glanced around the park to find some inspiration and his eyes fell on a lonely child in the swing set. Kurt himself had loved swings when he was younger and would often sit in them alone because no one wanted to play with the girly boy: boys didn't like him because he was different, girls didn't like him because he was a boy. The girl in the swing seemed to be a tomboy based on the baseball cap on her short, blond hair, Batman T-shirt and the well worn sneakers. There was no pink in sight which made Kurt smile slightly. While he liked pink, he never thought he'd see a little girl that didn't. His smile fell when he saw the other girls on the play ground glance in her direction with sneers and holier-than-thou looks. Girls' bullying could sometimes be worse than that of boys'. Boys used most often violence but still acknowledged the invidual they were bullying, girls rather ignored them and talked shit about them behind their backs. In the long run, what the girls did was more harmful than what the boys did, even if what the boys did caused more hurt when it happened.

Unconsciously Kurt began to draw the lonely little girl in the swing.

He was doing the shadowing when someone spoke next to him.

"You're a really good drawer," the British accented voice said. "You've captured that little girl's loneliness into that picture really well."

Kurt didn't look up from his work. "Thanks. I like to draw even if my passion lies in singing."

"That's a pity," the stranger commented. "You could make millions if the right people saw your works, if your other drawings are as good as that one, that is."

"And how would you know? You're in Lima, doomed to be a Lima looser for the rest of your life if you don't get out of here as soon as you can," Kurt commented as he did some last details, then he lifted his pencil off the paper and sighed. "Done." He turned to look at the person next to him.

The boy had stylishly messy black hair, expressive green eyes, strong body build, some muscles and aristocratic features. In short, he was incredibly handsome. His head was cooked a little to the right and he was observing Kurt.

"I knew my life was interesting but never did I think I'd meet one of your kind this early in my life," he said with a smile.

Kurt was confused. He'd never seen this boy in his life and what did he mean with his 'kind'? If he meant gay, he could just say so!

"What do you mean my kind?"

"Why, you're an angel of course!" the strange boy answered with a smirk. "There's no way someone as beautiful as you is completely mundane."

Red filled Kurt's cheeks and a warm feeling filled him. Never before had anyone but his mother called him beautiful, it was always pretty or cute or girly but now a boy he'd never met and wasn't likely to meet again sat next to him and told him he was beautiful. How surreal was that? And being compared to an angel? Sure, his dad had called him an angel once but that was because he'd save the dinner Burt was about to burn.

"You're not from around here are you?" he asked and smiled, lowering his eyes from the boy's intense gaze.

"Nope, just moved here from London actually," the boy admitted with an embarrassed smile.

"I could tell you are from Britain and from a bigger place than Lima because small towns such as this one... well, boys calling boys beautiful ends with both being beaten up inside the dumpster, just a fair warning," Kurt shrugged. He didn't want the other to suffer from the same thing he did when in school. "Not that I don't appreciate the compliment, I spend rather long times to make sure I look the best I can so it's nice to hear it's working."

"I'm sure you would look quite lovely au naturale too," the boy grinned. "And chill, I can take care of my self, I've dealt with bullies before. If it's someone who wants to beat you up, you have to learn to be faster than them. If it's someone who tries to humiliate you, do it yourself then dare them to do it, call them chickens if they don't. If someone's looking for a verbal fight, you have to have a well rounded education to know more about things than they do. If it gets to sexual harassment, you go to someone who can help, and I don't necessarily mean an adult. I've found that adults do more harm than good in bullying situations."

"I have a way with the words sometimes," Kurt shrugged, "and I can pretty much evade it if a fist comes flying to my face but I'm no way fast and I hate sweating." they were silent for a while, watching each other, and Kurt noticed a fallen eye thinking he reached for it and blushed. "Sorry, it's an eye lash."

He smiled. "You're supposed to wish when you find one. Go on."

Kurt cooked his head lightly and blew the eye lash away.

"What'd you wish?" the boy asked curiously.

Blushing furiously, Kurt shook his head. "I can't tell! It won't come true if I do!"

"Hmm, good point," the boy admitted with a pout. "Anyway, I think I should head home, I've got to send an email to a friend of mine so that she won't kill me for not contacting her and telling her I'm okay and alive. I guess I'll see you around," the boy said, got up from the bench, strached and begaan to walk away.

"Yeah, see you," Kurt called after him, really hoping they'd meet again. He turned a new page in his pad and began to draw the boy from his memory. Two hours latter the picture was almost ready when Carole called him home for dinner. He packed his pencils and closed his pad carefully, making sure nothing showed. Quickly he made his way home and put his thing on the small table in the entrance hall and took off his shoes. He walked to the dining room and froze in the door way.

The boy from the park was there.

"...aunt Carole, aunt Petunia threw a right fit when she found a weed in her precious petunias!"he was telling and everyone was laughing. He was the first to notice Kurt in the door way and his smile widened. "I had a gut feeling about you, you know, that we were sure to meet again."

A smile played on Kurt's lips. "I really hoped we'd meet again, and I guess my wish did come true."

The rest of the Hummel-Hudson family looked between the two of them.

"You know each other?" Carole finally asked.

Harry turned back to her. "Yeah, we met at the park today, not knowing who the other was and began to talk," he told her and Kurt went to sit next to him, nodding his agreement to the story. Harry leaned closer to him. "But I'm serious about you looking like an angel, and now that I know you can sing too, there's no denying it."

1) In this Carole's British, I couldn't not write her to prefer tea to coffee.

2) I have no idea about phone numbers in UK, or the US for that matter, so don't expect me to even make anything up

3) I actually did that with a cousin of mine... believe me, it really wouldn't go down, the gag reflex was too strong...

4) You think Kurt would drink coffee? Hah! It poison to the nervous system!