A/N: Second chapter, and I think I should be able to keep to a weekly schedule. :D Huge thanks to everyone who reviewed/favourited/etc, those notifications make my day every time. I now have my email hooked up to my phone so I'm literally alerted every time one comes in. Totally worth getting distracted at work. XD

The plot (Such as it is) thickens. Another note that I'm not bashing anyone in this fic - no-one's reactions are unreasonable or mean for the hell of it, but sometimes people do jerky things. Even good ones. THat's going to be an overall theme in this story, so please know that I love all the Glee/Harry Potter characters, so even if they're doing something asshole-ish know that they'll be redeemed.

Harry managed an hour before something threatened his tentative control. He and Kurt had screamed into school with five minutes to spare, giving Harry just enough time to walk Kurt to class and get to his own as the bell rang. He spent the lesson quietly reading a text book, grateful for the reprieve to shake off as much of the paranoia his panic attack had left him with as possible. He also felt something unpleasant when he thought about Blaine the Warbler, but he couldn't work out what. He seems like a really nice guy, and Kurt really likes him. What's wrong with that?

Like most classes at McKinley, the room wasn't particularly focused. Most people were chatting or studying on their own as the teacher argued with a jock over a failing grade ("But, like, I had football practice and shit, why can't you just pass me?" "Because you haven't gotten a single test answer right all year, and you haven't handed in any assignments." "So?"). Artie was sitting next to Harry, balancing his text book on his lap while he rocked back in his chair. If he'd noticed the redness of Harry's eyes he hadn't mentioned it, but he had seemed to be making an effort to be as silly and funny as possible. Harry was about to ask him about something he'd just read in the textbook when he felt a shot of warning down his spine, and his hand snapped out to catch the eraser that was about to hit the back on his head. Whoops, I couldn't see that. Let's hope they don't ask questions and just assume I'm a ninja.

"Can I help you, Karofsky?" Harry sighed, knowing full well who was sitting behind him and who had thrown it. He turned in his seat to shoot the larger teenager an unimpressed look, the satisfied smirk on his face making the wizard nervous. Azimio snickered as Karofsky puffed his chest out and leaned back in his chair.

"I just wanted to compliment you on how very faggy you look today, Potter," the boy drawled, making Azimio laugh harder. "You're out doing yourself. I bet soon you'll be wearing skirts and heels like your girlfriend, right? Then your transition from loser to faggot will be complete."

"Thank you for noticing, Dave. I did it just for you," Harry deadpanned, making Artie hide a laugh in a cough. Something flashed in Karofsky's eyes before his face twisted in an ugly scowl.

"Fuck off, fag, it makes me sick enough to be around you already. You don't have to try to make it worse," he snarled, and even Azimio seemed surprised by this vehemence. Harry quickly forced his expression from surprised to cold and he snorted.

"You're the one who noticed, Karofsky. Don't blame me for your interest,"The wizard started to turn back around again, only to find a firm hand on his shoulder yanking him back around. Before he knew what he was doing he was grabbing the wrist of that hand and twisting it, stopping just shy of snapping the arm in three places. His magic surged, bubbling just under his skin and making his eyes flash. For a moment he was a soldier again, disabling a threat. Then the world caught up to him and he was a teenager about to break a classmate's arm for grabbing his shoulder unexpectedly.

"Shit," he hissed, dropping Azimio's arm like it was scalding. Azimio had cried out when Harry grabbed him, so the room was silent and shocked as the jock wrenched his arm back and cradled it with the other. Harry's heart was in his throat, pulse racing. Shit, I'm an idiot. Why did I panic? I knew what was happening, I knew that it was him, I'm so stupid! Merlin, what's going to happen now? I just attacked another student. I could be expelled. Shit, shit, fuck-

"Mr Azimio, are you all right?" the teacher was rushing over, but to Harry's surprise Azimio forced a laugh.

"Yeah, we were just messing around," the jock grinned a slightly pained grin, ignoring the incredulous look from both Artie and Karofsky. When he went on he shot his friend a pointed look. "It's not like Potter could actually hurt me. He's, like, half my size. We were just playing. Sorry for shouting."

The teacher looked suspicious but eventually nodded, slowly making his way back to his seat, "Well, all right. Let's keep the rough housing to a minimum, okay, boys?"

"Yes, sir," Harry muttered, his eyes firmly on his desk. Karofsky leaned over and muttered to Azimio.

"Dude, what-?"

"You think I want people to know I almost got my arm broken by a gay midget?" Azimio hissed back, and Harry shut his eyes. Oh Merlin. I can't believe my arse was just saved by Azimio's ego. "Shut up, dude, he's stronger than he looks."

"I'll make you a deal, Azimio," Harry muttered back, allowing a little magic to make his voice carry danger with it. "You don't tell anyone, I don't tell anyone. Win/win."

"That was my idea, fairy-boy," the jock growled, but kept his hands under the desk. Harry went on, his voice slightly apologetic.

"And - don't grab me like that, yeah? I lived in a war zone, my reflexes are kind of dangerous."

Karofsky gave him a flat look, gently prodding Azimio's arm to see if it was injured, "So what you're saying is that you're not just a gay midget, but a crazy gay midget?"

"Crazy bisexual short-arse, more accurately," Harry corrected with a shrug. He turned around then, facing his text book with a scowl. "And yes, yes I am."

"Fucking weirdo," Karofsky muttered, then fell silent. Harry sighed. Yep. That's me. The fucking crazy bisexual short-arse weirdo who breaks people's arms when they startle him. The wizard sighed and glanced around, catching Artie's wary gaze. He smiled weakly, and got a weak smile in return from the boy in the wheel chair. "Sorry about that. I didn't mean to react so strongly, I was just - I'm kind of on edge today."

"Yeah," Artie nodded emphatically, but Harry could see the hesitation in his movements, the way he couldn't meet Harry's eyes. "It's cool. He deserved it from all the shit he was saying anyway. Doesn't it bother you, when he calls you that stuff?"

"Not really," Harry shrugged, sinking a little lower in his chair when he saw the hard look the teacher was giving him. "It doesn't mean much to me, honestly. I don't like it when they call Kurt that to his face, because it does mean something to him, but when it's just me I couldn't care less."

"Sure," Artie nodded again, looking back at his textbook with a frown. "Just - sure. Cool."

"What?" Harry frowned, cringing when he saw Artie flinch a little. Oh shit, he's afraid of me. Well done, Potter, you've officially become a danger to others. Artie glanced away, hands on his wheels tightly.

"It's just - did he startle you? 'Cause, you know. They were talking shit and then you grabbed him..." Artie trailed off, looking around nervously. Harry's eyes went wide.

"I didn't attack him because I was angry," he hissed, leaning forward furtively when a few people shot him strange looks. The wizard took a deep breath, feeling the pressure of a headache burning behind his eyes. "He scared me. I had a panic attack this morning and it makes me paranoid. I thought I was being attacked!"

"Okay, okay," Artie raised his hands, his eyes slightly wide. "If you say so. I mean, you'd know, right?"

"Artie, I'm not going to attack you," Harry scowled, shaking his head as Artie looked at him warily. "Really. I only lash out if I have reason to think I'll be attacked. Or when I get woken up from a nightmare."

"All right, I get it," Artie assured him, lowering his hands and trying to look natural. "It's cool, man. You've just - you've got to be careful."

"I know," Harry sighed, rubbing his itching face with a scowl. His scars were itching and aching, and his head hurt and he was beginning to feel anxious- "I know, I've just - I need to get out of here."

He grabbed his books and got to his feet, shoving a hand into his pocket to grab the little laminated card signed by Principal Figgans which allowed him to leave class if he needed to. The teacher glared but nodded jerkily, and Harry took off out of the room, ignoring Artie's hissed, "Harry! C'mon, don't go!" as he left.

He managed to get to the nurse's office before he was panicking again, and he rolled the sleeping nurse away from the desk in her chair to get to the paper bags held in the top drawer. He half collapsed on the bed at the side of the room before raising the bag to his lips, already hyperventilating and tears running down his face.

Scared - can't breath - stupid stupid stupid - not under attack, calm down - attacked a boy, just a stupid boy, almost hurt him, almost broke him, monster - scared - can't breathe, can't see - just calm down, calm down calm down calm down calm down -

"Harry? Harry?" a faint voice was calling to him through the fog of his fear, and a presence was approaching. He curled in on himself, the paper bag crunching against his knees as he drew them up to himself. His sense of touch and sight faded away as the panic overtook him, and all he could do was shake and breathe and hear.

Unsafe, unsafe, have to - can't breathe, I can't breathe - no, no, no closer, no closer too close I can't breathe -

"Shit, dude, what's wrong? What do I do?"

Monster, I'm a monster, it's too loud and too bright and unsafe and -

"Dude! What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything! I found him like this. What do we do?"

"I don't freaking know, where's the nurse?"

"I don't know, go get Mr Schue or Kurt or some shit, don't just stand there like an idiot. Harry, man, can you hear me? It's Puck. It's okay, dude, just - just take a deep breath or something, fuck."

I can't I can't I can't I can't unsafe danger help me help me help me I can't breathe -

"Puck, what happened?"

"I don't know, man! Me and Finn were going to class and we saw him like this! You gotta do something, I think he's gonna pass out."

"Harry, it's Mr Schuester, can you hear me?"

Get away, get away! No no no no no nononono-

"Shit! Mr Schue, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Puck, he barely touched me, I just over balanced. Can you go and help Finn find Kurt?"

"Yeah, I - sure."

"Okay, Harry, it's just us. Everything is fine, you're safe. Kurt will be here soon."

Kurt? I - safe? Can't breathe, can't breathe - safe, not safe but - soft. The blanket is soft. Kurt. Kurt is coming and I'm safe. Breathe, breathe, breathe -

"That's good Harry, that's really good. You're doing great. Just keep breathing like that, Kurt will be here any minute."

Just breathe, I can feel the blanket and I can breathe, safe, safe, not safe, people, loud no no no nonono-

"Mr Schue! We found-"

"Harry!"

"Dude, don't touch him, he totally knocked Mr Schue over when he did."

"Let go of me, Puck. I need to - "

"Kurt, he's right. Talk to him, but give him his space."

"I know, Mr Schue, I've already done this today. Harry, it's me, it's Kurt."

Kurt. The blanket is soft and Kurt is here and I'm safe. Breathe, breathe, breathe...

A soft hand was on his arm, cutting through the numbness of his skin. He could feel the blanket under his hand, and the softness of Kurt's hand on his arm. The paper bag was crushed in his hand, and his muscles were cramped from how he had curled up. The room came back to him, sights finally processing again, Puck and Finn standing over the crouching Mr Schuester. His breathing slowed, his heart rate dropped, and he looked to Kurt.

Kurt was looking at him with compassion, reaching up to run his fingers through Harry's hair. He waited silently for Harry to calm, shooting Finn and Puck vicious looks when they went to speak, finally gesturing for Finn to grab the box of tissues from the nurse's desk. He handed a few to Harry, politely looking away while Harry wiped the tears and drool off his face.

Merlin's fucking beard, two in two hours. I'm a lunatic.

"Feeling better, sweetheart?" Kurt's voice was cheerful, sympathetic, and Harry couldn't help but grimace.

"'m tired," was all he could manage, slumping down against Kurt's side. He felt Kurt's arm slip around his waist, and he shut his eyes as Mr Schuester started to speak.

"I'll call your guardian, Harry. I think it would be fine if you took today off," the teacher assured him, and something made Harry open his eyes.

"Did I hit you a few minutes ago?" he asked, sitting up with a frown. Puck nodded, his face pale and kind of freaked out, but Mr Schuester shook his head.

"You knocked me over when I touched you, but that was only because I was crouching and overbalanced. You really didn't hit me that hard," the teacher shrugged casually, but Harry still cringed, the last whispers of his fear still audible in his mind.

Monster, dangerous, murderer...

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, looking down at his feet. Kurt's arm tightened around him and he was torn between leaning into the comfort and pulling away out of disgust for himself. "I didn't - I'm sorry."

"It's fine, Harry, really," Mr Schuester held up his hands with a smile. "There's not a scratch on me. I'm fine."

"Dude, what happened with Azimio?" Finn suddenly asked, his eyes on his phone. When Harry froze Kurt glared at his step-brother, but Finn just glanced up and back down to frown at the screen. "Artie just texted me asking if I knew where you were. He said something about Azimio and you being upset. Did Azimio do something?"

"No, I did," Harry muttered, still looking down. Monster... "He and Karofsky were being gits, and he grabbed my shoulder. I was still on edge from earlier and I just lashed out. I nearly broke his arm."

"Shit," Puck raised his eyebrows, but unlike Finn he looked more impressed than horrified. "You do pack a punch for a little guy, huh?"

Harry couldn't help the scoff that burst out. Puckerman, you have no goddamn idea, "Yeah, shame it gets directed at the wrong people."

"It was directed at Azimio. That's not the wrong people," Kurt quipped, ignoring the disapproving look from Mr Schuester. He rested his head on top of Harry's, squeezing the smaller boy against his side. "Don't beat yourself up about this, sweetie. You've had a rough day. First the accident gave you an attack-"

"Whoa, accident? What accident?" Finn asked, finally looking up from his phone with alarm. "You didn't tell me about an accident. Like, a car accident? Are you okay?"

"No, Finn. We're lying dead in a ditch somewhere. You've actually been talking to our ghosts for the last ten minutes," Kurt deadpanned. Finn looked even more freaked out.

"Wait, what?"

"Oh my god, Hudson, he's joking," Puck shook his head, rolling his eyes as Mr Schuester cringed and Harry politely covered a chuckle in a cough. "He's being fuh- fash - fasheshus."

"Facetious," Kurt corrected gently, raising an eyebrow. "And yes, I was."

Puck looked pleased with himself, puffing out his chest and smiling smugly, "Hermione taught me that word."

"Uh huh," Kurt rolled his eyes a little and continued. "Anyway, clearly we're fine, Finn. Some idiot ran a red light and nearly hit us, but we got out of the way in time and he wasn't hurt either. It was just really scary and set off Harry's anxiety."

"Woo," Harry deadpanned, raising a finger and twirling it around as though cheering. "A bloody wonderful start to my day, let me tell you."

"I'll go call Remus," Mr Schuester stood up, hesitantly patting Harry on the shoulder as he did. "You just stay in here, okay? I'll sort it out with the school. Finn, Puck, you had better go back to class, but Kurt, you can stay until Remus gets here if you like."

"Can you write a note for Mrs Hughes?" Kurt asked, slipping in next to Harry more comfortably. Mr Schuester nodded as he left. "Thanks, Mr Schue."

"Thank you," Harry added softly, shooting Finn and Puck sheepish looks as they trailed out after the teacher. "Both of you. I'm sorry for the inconvenience."

"Don't worry about it, dude," Puck threw over his shoulder with a shrug. "What are friends for, right?"

"Right," Kurt agreed as the door to the nurses office shut. He shook his head in wonderment and murmured thoughtfully. "It's hard to believe that's the same boy that knocked up his best friend's girlfriend and invented dumpster dives."

"Wait, what was that last part?" Harry turned to look at Kurt with an alarmed scowl. "He invented that?"

"In freshman year," Kurt nodded, but he smiled and shrugged. "It's fine, Harry. He stopped doing it to me when he joined Glee, and these days he actually stops anyone who tries if he's around. People change."

"Occasionally even for the better," Harry agreed. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, a tension headache throbbing behind his eyes. "I hope Mr Schuester can get through to Remus. I really just want to go to bed."

"Why wouldn't he? Was Remus going out today?" Kurt asked, tugging Harry around so he was leaning against Kurt's chest. Harry shut his eyes as Kurt started threading his fingers through the smaller boy's hair, soothing his temples with cool, soft fingertips. Harry eventually remembered how to speak.

"No, he never goes out recently. But he can be a bit out of it sometimes," Harry decided not to mention that Remus had forgotten how to work the telephone last week, despite having used one since childhood. He was just too out of it from the Calming Draughts. "That feels nice, keep doing that. Have I mentioned recently that you're my favourite?"

"I hope that means favourite person and not favourite boyfriend," Kurt quipped, not ceasing in his delicate ministrations. "I should hope that you're not hiding another one."

"Favourite person," Harry confirmed, sighing as the pain eased a little. "Scratch that, favourite anything. You're just my favourite."

"You're my favourite too," Kurt pressed his lips to Harry's brow, turning his thumbs to rub at the tense muscles in Harry's neck. There was a pause as Kurt rubbed and Harry dozed, allowing the last of his energy to settle, when Kurt started idly talking again. "So when I was talking to Blaine this morning, he told me something interesting."

"Mmm?" Harry hummed, his mind drifting back to seeing the Dalton boy that morning. It stirred something in him, something uncomfortable, but he pushed the feeling aside in favour of listening to Kurt.

"He said that the Warblers are going to be performing at old people's homes and at hospitals now that they're out of the competition."

"That's nice," Harry turned his head a little so that Kurt could stroke at a sore point on his skull. "Does New Directions ever do anything like that?"

"Just around the school. We usually get mocked for it," Harry felt Kurt shrug behind him. "But I had an idea. Last year we invited a couple of other schools to McKinley for a scrimmage, as Mr Schuester called it. I was thinking we could invite the Warblers here for a little friendly contest. They're one of the few other teams we're on good terms with, and it means they still get a chance to compete and we get to practice."

"It's a good idea," Harry agreed. "Then again, right at this particular moment I would think anything you suggested was a good idea, so maybe run it by me later."

"Okay," Kurt giggled, then his voice took on a sly edge. "So, if I were to suggest that you buy that gorgeous Michael Kors sweater I suggested-"

"The one with the sequins?"

"Yes."

"No."

"Damn," Kurt huffed a sigh into Harry's hair. "I will get you into designers if it's the last thing I do, Potter. You have a great body, and well made clothes just flatter it so nicely."

Harry snorted, "Yeah, I have a great, scarred, mutilated, hilariously tiny body. Brad Pitt, eat your heart out, Frankenstein's midget is here."

"Don't start that again," Kurt scolded, prodding Harry's side viciously. "I swear, one day you will believe me when I tell you that you're good looking. The scars are fading to white so people can see the handsome face behind them, and you have a six-pack that Artie would stab a kitten for. You're not ugly."

"You just think that because I'm your favourite," Harry muttered, sinking down against Kurt's chest a little. His face was heating up, but he couldn't help but feel a little dark shame clawing at his stomach. I looked like a monster because I am one - fuck, not that again. I've just got to stop thinking about it. Kurt sighed and stopped rubbing Harry's head in favour of putting his arms around the smaller boy's chest, pulling him close.

"If you can think I'm attractive despite my pear hips and freakishly large feet, I can think you're attractive despite a few scars you got whilst enduring unbelievably traumatic events," Kurt pressed a soft kiss to Harry's temple, and Harry chuckled a little.

"I like your hips," he squeezed Kurt's hand over his chest. "And Santana said big feet on a guy is a really good thing, but she didn't say why. I don't really get it."

"Don't worry about it, sweetie," Kurt sighed. "Just disregard anything Santana says ever. It's probably dirty. Also, never open a link she sends you online. I did once, and now I can't look at sheep or clowns in the same way ever again."

"...please never tell me."

"I won't. What do you think is taking Mr Schuester so long?"

Harry sighed and closed his eyes again, "Probably problems getting through to Remus. I just hope he doesn't drive in if he's too... out of it."

"Stoned, you mean," Kurt tried to hide the disapproval in his voice, but Harry could hear the undercurrent. The wizard cringed.

"...yeah. He's hitting his medication pretty hard. He has too, though. He's developing a tolerance to them," he shrugged helplessly against Kurt's chest. "I am too. I took mine this morning but still had panic attacks. I might have to up my dosage too."

"Harry, no," Kurt protested, sitting up and making Harry turn to face him. "Not without seeing a doctor first. You can't just play with your medication like that, there are side effects."

"I know," Harry winced at his own harsh tone. "I'm sorry, but I know. I live them. But if my options are 'spend all day panicking' and 'take more drugs' I'm going with the latter. I just want to function. That's what Remus is doing too."

"He isn't functioning, though," Kurt pointed out, a note of pleading in his voice. "And can you image what it's doing to your liver? All it's doing is preventing your body from reacting, it's not helping you get over what's making you react."

"Therapy is a little difficult when your trauma is classified information," Harry pulled away from Kurt, shifting so he was sitting further down the bed. He gripped the edges of the cot tightly, making his knuckles go white, and he glared down at his knees. "I know you're right, Kurt. It isn't healthy and it's not helping me, not really, but it's my only option. And Remus is just trying to cope."

"But he's meant to be taking care of you," Kurt's voice was gentle, hesitant. "And all I see and hear about is you taking care of him."

"I can handle it," Harry insisted, looking up at Kurt with hard eyes. He softened when he saw the compassion and worry in his boyfriend's beautiful eyes, and he leaned over to kiss him softly, pulling back to smile in what he hoped was a reassuring way. "Really, love. It's still better than living with the Dursleys, and Remus isn't that bad all the time. I mean, it's more frequent right now, but I'm sure it'll get better."

"One day you'll tell me what was so bad about the Dursleys," Kurt sighed, catching Harry's hand again to press a kiss to it. "But not today. Today you'll go home and relax. Do you want me to pick up homework for you?"

"Yes please," Harry looked over Kurt's shoulder to the glass wall. Mr Schuester was walking back with Ms Pillsbury, and he suddenly frowned. He glanced around the office. "Hey, where did the nurse go? She was sleeping at the desk when I came in."

"I was just thinking that," Kurt followed his gaze, craning his neck to look over the desk. "She wasn't there when I came in. Oh my god, do you think she left when she saw you? That bitch!"

"She probably went off to find a new place to sleep," Harry shook his head, smiling a little when Mr Schuester opened the door for Ms Pillsbury. He took in their pinched expressions with some wariness. "Any luck getting a hold of Remus?"

Mr Schuester hesitated for a moment, exchanging a glance with Ms Pillsbury, "Yeah, I spoke to him, Harry. Kurt, would you mind waiting outside for a moment?"

"He can hear," Harry assured the adults with a sigh, shaking his head. Kurt's mouth was pinched and angry, and he clung on to Harry's hands tightly. "He's - he's used to Remus. He was high, wasn't he?"

Mr Schuester nodded after a moment, and Ms Pillsbury looked at Harry with pity. The teacher took a few steps forward and grabbed one of the nurse's chairs, sitting in front of Harry and leaning in. "It sounded like it. He was slurring his words, he kept forgetting who he was talking to, and he said something about wanting a fireplace so he could catch the flu."

Harry sighed and closed his eyes. Dammit, Remus, "Look, I know it sounds bad but he's not doing, like, heroin or something. He's had to up his anxiety medication dosage a bit, and he's not used to it yet. In a few weeks he should be back to normal."

I hope.

"All right," Mr Schuester nodded, but Harry sighed internally. That was the, 'I'm saying all right because you're a child that doesn't know any better but I'm now going to completely disregard everything you say' voice. I am way too familiar with that voice."But I thought it would be better if he didn't drive, so Ms Pillsbury and I are going to take you home, okay?"

"And when we get there we would like to talk to your guardian," Ms Pillsbury's eyes were wide and earnest, and Harry resisted the urge to scowl at her. "Just to make sure he's okay, and you're okay, and that everything is - you know, okay."

I'm beginning to hate that word. And fuck, what if Remus has left magical things lying around?

"I should call him first, let him know you're coming," Harry thought fast, mentally forming plans in his over-tired brain to cover up any issues that were likely to occur. "He's a little weird about people coming into the house. And I'll have to go in first so he sees me first. But that's fine. I don't mind if you want to try and talk to him."

The two adults shared a look, and Kurt squeezed Harry's hand. After a moment, Mr Schuester nodded and reached for his pocket, "Okay, Harry. We'll do that. Kurt, I'll just write you a note for your teacher and you can head back to class for the last couple of minutes. Harry, why don't you call Remus?"

"I'll see you tomorrow," Kurt promised, pressing a peck to Harry's lips and shooting him an encouraging smile. "Get some sleep, and thank you again for my cufflinks!"

"I expect my present-performance in Glee on Thursday," Harry grinned a little, still clinging to Kurt's hands. I wish I could stay with him. I'm calmer with Kurt than alone in my room. Kurt dropped him a wink.

"Not even Rachel's biggest tantrum could stop me," he dropped Harry's hand reluctantly and took the note from Mr Schuester. "Now, here's to hoping no one messed with my bag while I was out of the room."

"Just give me names if they have!" Harry called after him. He caught the slightly wary look from the two adults and hastily changed his line. "I'll... write them a sternly worded letter."

Kurt's laughter drifted through the closing door as he slipped away, strutting down the hall with all the defensive arrogance of someone who was waiting for someone to try to humiliate them. Harry forced himself to look away from Kurt's proud stride and to the whispering adults. Ms Pillsbury noticed his stare and shot him her usual slightly-terrified smile, getting to her feet on a bounce.

"Right! How about we start heading home now. I mean, to your home now, not to our home - homes! Because we have different homes, Will - Mr Schuester and I, we don't live together and..." she trailed off at the mutually bemused looks Harry and Mr Schuester were sending her way. "Um. Yeah. Let's go."

So apparently Kurt wasn't kidding when he said the guidance counsellor was certifiable. Good to know.