A/N: Sorry this is a bit late, I went to bed early and forgot to post it. Thanks for all the reviews and alerts, they make my day! I have to admit, I'm really stuck on a part a little on from this, so I don't know how long I'll be able to keep to my schedule for, but I can assure you I'm trying. Don't forget to check out the website! My recommendations have been updated and Bumping Uglies is up. :)

The Quidditch Field was an odd place for a picnic, but it didn't matter to Harry. Kurt sat opposite him on their purple blanket, gnawing on a carrot with a secret smile dancing across his lips. Harry looked down to try and drag the rest of the food out of the basket, but when he looked up Kurt was gone. He had to look for him, follow the trail of sequins into the Forbidden Forest. He's not worried, though, not frightened. It's a game, see, just a little game Kurt's playing. Everything is okay. But what happened to the centaurs? Hermione was trying to protect them but their blood is all over the forest. It's not funny anymore, not a game, he has to find Kurt and get out of here before what got the centaurs finds them. He turns and there's Kurt, but he's screaming and backing away, looking at Harry with terrified red eyes. The centaurs' blood is on Harry's hands and Kurt's running into the forest...

Harry woke up with his hands grasping for nothing at the ceiling. He let them drop to the bed on either side of him with a little gasp and waited for his heart rate to slow. He glanced around the room, noting that everything was where he left it, before rubbing his eyes with a sigh.

At least I didn't vaporize anything this time.

It was still dark-ish out, so it couldn't be more than 5 in the morning, but he didn't think he would be going to school today. He hurt, he was tired, and he was beginning to shake with the effects of withdrawal. He reached into his drawer for a Calming Draught, pulling out the stopper and swallowing it down. He left it on his bedside table and dragged himself out of bed. I need to check on Remus, take a shower, and get some water, not necessarily in that order.

The clock in the kitchen read 4.56 when he walked in to find Remus sitting at the table. The man was nursing a cup of coffee and staring off into space, but his gaze was clear and focused when it fell on Harry. For a moment they just stared at one another, tension in the air, before Remus sighed and dropped his gaze.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, shame lacing his words. "It faded just after midnight. The Draught. I haven't taken another one. I really - I really messed up yesterday, Harry. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," Harry muttered, wincing when he heard how weak and hoarse his voice was. Remus shook his head, still staring at his cup.

"It's really not."

The time dragged out, Harry eventually moving to get a glass of water. Remus started talking again as Harry drank, soothing his dry throat, "I couldn't sleep last night. The full moon is tonight, it can cause insomnia. But I haven't taken another Draught. I won't until later. I need - I need to be clear-headed, I know that."

"You need to be calm too," Harry pointed out, moving to get another glass. "It's no better for you to be panicking all day."

"Maybe. At least I'll know what's going on then," the werewolf muttered, taking a sip of his coffee. "Are you going to school today?"

"I don't think so," Harry shrugged, chugging his second glass of water. "I'm still exhausted. I might just have a shower and go back to bed."

"Okay. I'll try to keep it down," Remus stood up carefully, and Harry didn't comment on how his fingers were shaking. "Should I let Kurt in if he comes over?"

"Yeah, please," Harry set his glass down in the sink. Remus continued as he walked slowly over to stand next to Harry, still unable to meet his ward's eyes.

"I'll drink my Wolfsbane and go down to the basement at about 5, so don't - "

"Look for you after that, I know, Remus," Harry sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Wake me up if you need anything."

"Sure," Remus agreed softly as Harry walked from the room. Harry knew he wouldn't.

The young wizard took a short shower, scrubbing the dried tears and sweat off his face and body with rough movements. He felt so grimy from having slept in his clothes, and he brushed his teeth furiously in the mirror when he was done. He accidentally caught sight of himself then, shirtless and wet with his hair off his face, and he cringed. The scars on his chest weren't as numerous as the ones on his face, but they were just as disfiguring. Kurt had commented on his abs, but how could anyone see them underneath the web of gouges and gashes that covered him? How could Kurt bear to look at the spider web of imperfections on his face? Harry's mind flew to Blaine all of a sudden, the dapper Dalton lead singer... and Kurt's new best friend. He was good looking, and taller than Harry without being taller than Kurt, and into things that Kurt was. He understood the things that Kurt was going through in a way that Harry couldn't. That gnawing uncomfortable feeling Harry had felt yesterday was back, and this time he recognised it. It wasn't jealously, an idea he had briefly entertained. He trusted Kurt not to cheat on him, and Blaine seemed too nice to try and 'steal Kurt away' or something. It was just...

He's handsome and charming, and he and Kurt have heaps in common. He's not freakishly small or mutilated, and I bet he isn't mentally ill. What if Kurt realises that he's better? What if he should? Am I being selfish keeping Kurt with me when he could be with someone better?

The teenager ran a hand down a deep burn scar on his chest, eyes chasing over mottled skin and into memories. Running, screaming - making them scream. Making them hurt. I'm - I'm not good for him. I'm not good for anyone. Shouldn't he be with someone who can be what he deserves?

Harry looked away from his mirror and down at himself, out of his memories and at the old wounds and new bruises that covered him. I'm going to drive myself nuts thinking about this. Just go to bed, Potter.

He waved himself dry with a muttered spell, slipping his wand back into its holster. He pulled on a pair of sweat pants and a loose t-shirt, and collapsed back onto his bed. A glance at the clock showed him that it was nearly 6.15 - Kurt would be up by now. He decided to call his boyfriend; maybe hearing his voice would stave off any nightmares. As soon as the number was dialled he held the phone to his ear. To his surprise, it went to voicemail.

"Oh, hey Kurt. You're usually up by now but maybe your phone is off," Harry rubbed his head, his lingering exhaustion and the stress of everything making his thoughts a little slow. "I just wanted to tell you that I won't be at school today. I'm really tired, so I'm just going to sleep. I hope - things are okay at school. I'm sorry I won't be there. I - take care, okay? Don't take any chances with the jocks or anything. I - thank you for last night. You're amazing. You deserve - you deserve everything."

Harry frowned at his own words. Okay, you're beginning to ramble, Potter. Time to end the call and get some more sleep. Because apparently the 9-odd hours you already got weren't enough. "I'll see you later, okay? Goodbye, Kurt."

He let the phone fall away next to him, drifting off again. Why am I so damn tired? Oh well, I guess it's time to sleep again. Here's to hoping Remus doesn't buy a circus or something today.

Dark, oppressive darkness. He was in his cupboard and about to be yanked out-

"Harry!"

The young wizard started awake, his magic flaring under his skin but staying in control. Kurt was leaning over him, wide eyed and frantic, his hair falling into his eyes and one hand on Harry's neck.

"Wha-Kurt?" Harry mumbled, raising a hand to his face. He began to look around. "What time is it?"

"Harry, how many did you take?" Kurt pleaded, grasping Harry's shoulder tightly in one long-fingered hand and holding up the empty vial of Calming Draught. There were tears in his eyes and his face was pale and terrified. It took Harry a few moments to piece the scene together.

He can only see an empty pill bottle. He thinks I took them all.

"One," Harry said quickly, sitting up in bed. The last of the sleep left his eyes and he grabbed Kurt's hand. "Only one, Kurt, it was just the last one in the bottle. I didn't take them all, I promise."

Kurt's face crumpled in relief, but he still held Harry's gaze fiercely and clung to his t-shirt, "I swear, Harry, if you're lying to me, I will call an ambulance right fucking now-"

"I'm not," Harry reached up and caught Kurt by the back of his neck, pulling him forward so their foreheads were touching. It was the first time he had ever heard Kurt seriously swear in his memory, and it shook him to the core. "I'm so sorry, love, I didn't mean to scare you. It was just the end of that bottle. I only took one, I swear to you."

"Fuck, Harry," Kurt choked out, dropping the empty vial in favour of pulling Harry to him. The taller boy was trembling from head to foot, and Harry could feel the wetness of tears soaking through his t-shirt. "Fuck. You sounded so out of it on the phone and I was sure something was wrong, so I came over and the bottle was empty and you were on top of the blankets and just - don't ever scare me like that again, okay? I thought you were dead."

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered into his neck, curling his arms up and around Kurt's waist. He dug his fingers into the soft cotton of Kurt's t-shirt, trying to pull himself closer than pressed together. "I didn't mean to - you really thought I was going to..."

"I didn't know," Kurt mumbled, pulling away to wipe at his eyes. For the first time Harry noticed what Kurt was wearing; an over-sized long sleeved t-shirt and grey sweatpants. It was the first time Harry had seen him out of designers, with the exception of Glee costumes. Kurt went on, oblivious to Harry's surprise. "I just - I overslept and then I listened to your message as soon as I woke up, and you sounded so out of it, and then you started talking about how I deserved things and when you actually said, 'Goodbye', I don't know. I guess I overreacted but it just sounded so final that I was worried. Then I got here and saw the empty bottle..."

"I'm fine," Harry promised, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth. Kurt made a protesting noise when Harry began to pull away and tugged him back, kissing him firmly with tear-wet lips. Harry let him; anything to sooth the terror in his eyes. When Kurt finally pulled away and buried his face in Harry's shoulder, Harry spoke again. "Really, I'm just tired. I'm so sorry I scared you like that, love. I didn't mean to. You're right, I was really out of it earlier and probably said some weird things, but I wouldn't..."

Harry trailed off to think. Wouldn't what? Hurt myself? Kill myself? Wouldn't I? I don't think that highly of myself, after all. I've just never thought of it before. I couldn't before, because the world needed me to kill Voldemort, but now it doesn't. I could-

"Harry," Kurt urged him, catching his face in his hands. He looked up at his boyfriend, the thoughtful look on his face fading to pained at the fear in Kurt's eyes. "I don't trust that look. Please tell me you're not thinking about it. Please, promise me you won't hurt yourself. I know things are bad for you right now, sweetheart, I know, but I - I care about you so much, I couldn't bear it if anything happened to you."

"I promise," Harry cut in firmly, pushing all those thoughts from his mind. I won't do anything to hurt Kurt, even hurt myself. No more thoughts. I'm okay. "I won't, Kurt. I promise you, I won't do it. I won't do that to you."

Kurt slumped against him again, and all Harry could do was hold his boyfriend in his arms. After a few moments he happened to glance at the phone still at his side, and started.

"Kurt, it's half past seven," he murmured into Kurt's neck. "You're not dressed yet. You had better go home and change if you want to get your moisturising done before school."

Kurt huffed into Harry's shoulder, "Why do you have to be so logical all the time."

He sat up with a sniff, still trying to wipe tears off his face, and suddenly he looked down, "Oh Gaga."

"What?" Harry asked softly, quirking at eyebrow at Kurt's horrified expression.

"I can't believe you saw me dressed like this," Kurt moaned, covering his face. "And I haven't brushed my hair yet, and I haven't even thought about skin care. Gucci, I look terrible."

"You look gorgeous," Harry corrected with a gentle smile, running his fingertips down Kurt's cotton covered arm. "Really. As much as I like your clothes, I love seeing you just as you."

Kurt's face went pink, but a pleased smile danced around his lips, "I'm not giving up my Gucci and McQueen for the Gap, no matter how charming you are, Mr Potter."

"I wouldn't expect or want you to," Harry agreed, brushing some of Kurt's hair out of his eyes. "You use your clothes to express yourself, and they're amazing. Besides, I kind of like knowing that I'm one of a privileged few to see the beautiful man underneath the fabulous diva."

"Very few indeed," Kurt murmured, adoration in his eyes. Harry could feel his mood lifting a little, and smiled back. I don't deserve him. Kurt reluctantly dragged himself to his feet, jumping a little when his phone started buzzing from his pocket. A rough country song started pouring from the speaker, and Kurt shot Harry an apologetic glance before answering.

"Hey dad," he sighed, sitting back down next to Harry and allowing the boy to rest his cheek on his shoulder. "I'm at Harry's. What? No I didn't spend the night, I just got here! It's a long story dad, I need to - Fine. He left a message on my phone that worried me. I came to check on him. His pill bottle was empty and I thought he'd taken them all. Turns out he only took one, but it was the last one of the bottle. I panicked. He reassured me. Everything is okay now. Yes, I'm sure he's fine. Well, he says he's fine, so I'm sure he's not fine, because he is a filthy liar when it comes to how he is, but he's not suicidal, so that's a start. I'm okay too. I mean, I'm a little upset still, given that I thought he was dead not five minutes ago, but I'm okay. I'm coming back home soon... really? You'd - wow, okay. I'll ask Harry."

Kurt lowered the phone and looked at Harry with a bright smile, "My dad says that if you want to come over and hang out at mine today, you can. He's not going to make me go to school. We can spend the day together over there."

"Really?" Harry raised his eyebrows. "That would be amazing. I mean, I would need to check on Remus and I won't be much fun, given how tired I am, but I always want to spend time with you. You know that."

"Shall I say we'll be over in half an hour?" Kurt suggested, getting up again. "That will give you time to get ready and time to make sure Remus will be okay for the day. And we don't have to go rollerblading or something. We can just watch movies and cuddle."

"Sounds perfect," Harry sighed, feeling tension seeping from his shoulders. He leaned back against the head board as Kurt raised the phone again, standing with his weight on one hip as he spoke to his father.

"Dad? Harry would love to come over, I think we could both use a day off after this morning. He just needs some time to get dressed - his pyjamas, dad. He's not naked - we'll be over in about half an hour, okay? Love you, dad."

Kurt sighed as he hung up the phone, "How can someone be so cool and so lame at the same time?"

"It boggles the mind," Harry agreed, mostly out of politeness. Kurt apparently could tell; he flipped Harry the bird with the hand that wasn't holding his phone. The smaller boy yawned and dragged himself out of bed. "Right. Clothes. Then, for the first time ever, I will be better dressed than you are."

"How about you go downstairs and make sure Remus has everything he needs," Kurt suggested innocently. "I'll lay out your clothes."

"No sequins," Harry warned him, trudging down the stairs. He found Remus in the living room, staring blankly at the screen of the home shopping channel. Harry's credit card was still sitting on the coffee table, but for once he didn't seem to be interested in buying anything. Harry stopped next to him, waiting for Remus to notice him rather than risk startling him. At Remus' vague nod, he began. "You know that Kurt's here?"

Remus nodded, "He seemed upset. I figured it was best to just let him go right to you."

"Yeah, that was fine," Harry agreed, shifting uncomfortably at the blankness in Remus' eyes. "He's, uh - he's not going to school either, because he was really upset. Do you mind if I go over to his for the day? I'll leave out dinner stuff before I go."

Remus just shrugged, and Harry forced his hurt away. He's withdrawing. He feels sick and miserable and it's a full moon tonight. It's not personal.

"Right, I'll just - I'll go then," Harry turned and began to walk out. He paused in the doorway, turning half way back to ask, "Are you sure you'll be okay?"

"Yes," Remus snarled, his sudden vehemence making Harry jump a little. "I'm a grown man, for fuck's sake. I don't need you to take care of me."

"Right," Harry muttered. It's just the withdrawal and the full moon making him grumpy. It's not personal. It's not. "I'll see you tomorrow, probably."

Remus grunted as Harry slipped out into the corridor. Harry closed the door behind him and leant against it for a moment, squeezing his eyes shut. It's just the withdrawal. That it. You didn't do anything wrong. He's not really mad at you.

"Harry?" Kurt's voice was gentle, and Harry cringed and forced himself to open his eyes. The taller boy was standing on the staircase, eyes wide and worried, and the teen wizard forced himself to smile.

"He's cutting down on his medication, so he's kind of grumpy today," he explained softly, with a one armed shrug. "Withdrawal is a real bitch with these things."

"What's it like?" Kurt asked curiously, following Harry into the kitchen. "I've never..."

"Been addicted to anything?" Harry guessed as Kurt trailed off, a high flush on his cheeks. "Most people haven't. It's awful. You feel sick and weak and shaky, and then you start getting scared and paranoid as the calming effects wear off. I get headaches as well, and I sweat. It's like having a really bad flu."

"It sounds awful," Kurt wrinkled his nose adorably, and jumped up to sit on the counter while Harry looked through the fridge. "Is it worth taking them, if they come with so many risks?"

"Yes," Harry said automatically, but shot Kurt a slightly guilty look. "But to be honest, we don't really take them right. We don't have access to the other stuff we need, so it's medicate or be crazy."

"There has to be something you can do," Kurt pressed, leaning forward on his hands to stare at Harry in concern. Harry shrugged.

"Not so I can think of. We're kind of in hiding over here," he closed the fridge with a sigh and walked back to the bench. He wrote a quick note telling Remus where to find the steaks from the night before, and that there was the number for pizza on the fridge. He helped Kurt hop down from the bench, accepting the kiss on the cheek and the playful, "My hero." with a bow, before wandering up to see what Kurt had chosen for him to wear. Maybe letting him have free reign was a bad idea.

To his surprise, resting on his bed was a simple white t-shirt, a lilac sweater, and his oldest, softest pair of jeans. A clean pair of sneakers sat next to his bed, white with purple accents, as well as violet socks. He shot Kurt a raised eyebrow, and the boy shrugged, "I was going to pick those divine black skinny jeans and the McQueen sweater with the buckles, but I figured you could probably use comfort over fashion today."

"Thank you," Harry breathed, kissing Kurt to the side of the face and smiling at the boy's put upon sigh. "Now would you wait outside for me to get changed? I don't trust your dad not to know somehow that you were in here while I was naked."

"That's... that's a good point, actually," Kurt muttered as he wandered out of the room. Harry dragged his clothes on as fast as he could manage, ignoring for the sake of his pride the fact that he had so little motor control when tired that he actually punched himself in the face when pulling the sweater on. The clothes were beautifully soft and warm, and for one moment Harry wondered if he'd charmed these ones and forgotten about it. He hadn't; apparently Kurt was just really good at picking out clothes for every occasion. Never should have doubted him. The wizard barely remembered to grab his phone and his wallet, just in case, before he stumbled out of his room and right into Kurt. The taller boy just chuckled and put an arm around his shoulders, leading his boyfriend to the Navigator parked sideways across the driveway. Kurt helped Harry clamber in, ignoring the mumbled, "Need a goddamn stepladder," from the smaller teen as he did. The car ride to Kurt's was quiet as Harry dozed in his seat. When they pulled up to the Hudmel residence (Burt and Carole having finally tied the knot the month before), Kurt rushed inside, "To prevent anyone actually seeing the state my hair is in."

Burt was sitting on the couch in the living room when Kurt rushed and Harry wandered in, nodding to both boys and raising his eyebrows at Kurt's rumpled state.

"Hey, dad," Kurt nipped over to the couch to kiss his dad on the cheek. "Thank you for letting me stay home today, this morning was not good for my nerves. Can you keep Harry entertained while I get dressed?"

"Sure, Kurt," Burt agreed, smiling hesitantly at the sleepy wizard hovering in the door. "You must be upset if you left the house in your sweats. Go on up, I'll keep Harry company."

"If you show him baby pictures I'll kill you!" Kurt called cheerfully as he jogged up the stairs. "Or cook nothing but cabbage for a week."

Burt winced and Harry hid a chuckle in a cough. The man shot him a somewhat wry smile and gestured him over, "Come in, kid. Sit down. We've probably got a while if Kurt hasn't even combed his hair yet."

Harry hummed his agreement, shuffling over to sit down next to Burt on the couch. He sunk into the familiar seats with a happy sigh, his stress levels lowering as he did. Sometimes this feels more like home than my house. Burt cleared his throat meaningfully, and Harry looked over at him with sleep heavy eyes. The man's face was serious, worried, and for a moment Harry had Mr Schuester flashbacks. I don't like that look. That look means people are meddling.

"Harry, kid," Burt began, pushing the baseball cap that seemed permanently attached to his head up a bit, then tugging it back down. "Kurt was a little vague about what happened this morning. Can you explain to me exactly what is going on?"

Harry shrugged a little, "He gave you the basic story. I called him this morning and left a weird voicemail, 'cause I was still half asleep. When he got it he came over to my place to check on me. He saw that my pill bottle was empty and thought I'd taken all of them, but I'd just taken the last one in the bottle. It really shook him up."

"Yeah, that's pretty well what he said," Burt nodded slowly, eyeing Harry carefully. "So you only took one?"

"Yes," Harry confirmed, holding Burt's gaze. "I'd never even considered killing myself before."

Burt looked at him for a long moment, considering. Harry couldn't help but look down at his hands. Burt's voice was gentler than Harry was used to, and oddly paternal, "You know, kid, Kurt might be a huge drama queen sometimes but he wouldn't jump from 'weird phone call' to 'suicidal' that fast for no reason."

"He only thought that when he saw the empty bottle," Harry protested, but Burt shook his head.

"He ran out of here like a bat out of hell, not wearing shoes and still in his pyjamas," Burt pointed out, and Harry couldn't do anything but concede that point. That's kind of a big warning sign right there. "He thought you were gonna hurt yourself, Harry. He really did."

Harry flinched at the worry in Burt's voice, and he muttered to his hands, "I'm not suicidal. I'd never even thought of it before."

There was a long pause, but Burt eventually nodded.

"Okay, I believe you," Burt agreed, and unlike with Mr Schuester, Harry found himself believing it. "So you'd never thought of it before. But what about now? Now that you've got the idea? Does it sound like the sort of thing we should be worrying about for you?"

"No," Harry said quickly, looking back up at Burt. When he saw how unconvinced he looked, he tried to insist. "Really. Kurt made me promise I wouldn't, and I would never do anything to hurt him."

"That's a pretty weak reason, Harry," Burt prodded him, and Harry found himself flinching at the worry in Burt's eyes. "Not hurting yourself because someone else doesn't want you to isn't exactly a great indicator that things are okay for you."

"They're not," Harry's eyes widened as the words slipped out without his permission, and he hurriedly backtracked at Burt's concern. "I mean, I'm okay, but things aren't that great right now. I'm not - I'm not going to hurt myself."

There was a pause as Burt looked into Harry's eyes searchingly, and the teenager tried not to fidget. The worry in Burt's eyes didn't ease much when he went on, his voice even gentler than before, "Mr Schuester called me last night, Harry. Told me some of what went down yesterday."

Harry felt like he'd taken a blow to his chest. He knew his face must have gone pale, and a cold sensation started crawling through his veins. His voice was trembling when he murmured, "He had no right to do that."

Burt nodded slowly, "Maybe not. Probably not. But he wanted to make sure that you had somewhere to go if things went South at home. You got a lot of people in your corner right now, kid. We all just want to make sure you're okay."

"I'm fine," Harry insisted, trying to force the tears to stay behind his eyes and the shakiness from his voice. "Remus isn't abusing me."

"I don't think he is," Burt gave a slow shrug, holding Harry's watery gaze. "And Will Schuester didn't say he was. But there was some implication that maybe someone had, and now maybe you're taking a lack of abuse for kindness."

"He had no right," Harry whispered, rage making the tears dry up and leaving a burning in their place. "He had no right to tell you that."

"He didn't tell me much of anything, kiddo," Burt soothed, clapping a hand down on Harry's shoulder. The boy almost shrugged it off, but somehow it was comforting, a heavy weight that helped him stay centred instead of knocking him off balance. "Just that he was concerned about your home life and that he wanted to make sure I'd be willing to take you in if you needed it. And I would be, kid. In a heartbeat. You mean a hellova lot to Kurt and you're a good kid, you deserve a backup plan at least. The rest of it - that's just what I've seen, Harry. Maybe I'm making assumptions when I shouldn't - God knows that's gotten me in trouble before with you - but I don't think I'm wrong, am I? That you've been abused before."

It wasn't a question, and Harry just shut his eyes. He was tired, so tired, and it was beginning to become too hard to fight. Still, he steeled himself and looked up with hard eyes, "No. Things with my family - my biological family - they were bad. Really bad. But Remus got me out of there. He sacrificed everything to get me away. That's why he's such a mess now. How could I not want to take care of him now? It's fine. I can handle it. You don't..." Harry's mind drifted to his childhood, to the hatred and the pain and the feeling of being totally worthless, then forward to fighting and pressure and... "You don't know how much worse it could be."

"You're right, I don't," Burt nodded, still watching Harry carefully. "I don't have a clue what you've been through. But I know it's a lot, and I know you've been dealing with stuff for a long time, and I know that you shouldn't have to deal with stuff anymore. That's the parent's job."

"I don't have parents," Harry shrugged. He wasn't trying to be dramatic or pitiful; it was just a fact. "Remus is my guardian. His job is to keep social services away from me and sign permission forms, not baby me."

"That's not how it works, Harry" Burt protested, but didn't go on at Harry's blankly resigned look.

"That's how it works for me."

For a long moment, neither of them spoke, Harry just staring at Burt blankly and Burt staring back, pity warring with anger and something oddly like fear in his eyes. After a moment, the man sighed and dropped his gaze for a second, rubbing his face with one big hand.

"Just - you can come here if you need to," Burt insisted, his voice resigned but still firm. "Whenever, whatever time of day. I don't care if it's the middle of the night or what. You don't even have to say why if you don't want to. If you think you're in any danger, or you just need to get away, the door is always open to you."

"You're worrying over nothing," Harry protested, shaking his head. "Things aren't great but they're not that bad."

"Just promise me you will," Burt insisted, catching Harry's shoulder again to force the boy to look at him. "Even if you don't think you'll ever need to, promise me you'll come if you do."

"Okay," Harry tried not to sigh. Two promises in one morning, Merlin. At least it's because they're worried about me and not because they're scared of me or something. Still, I'd rather people just believed me when I said I'm fine. "I'll come over if I need to. But I won't need to. I can handle it."

"Maybe," Burt sank back against the couch, giving Harry his space again. "But you don't have to."

I really do.