A/N: Okay, new chapter! This one is a bit longer and a bit less late, so hooray for me! I don't totally fail at life! Not sure when I'll be able to update next, I'm doing a literature unit at Uni and it's unsurprisingly reading intensive, so I don't have a lot of time for personal stuff. Also, I joined the university debating club, the writing club, and the theatre group. And the Queer Alliance. Also I work. I'M NOT OVERLOADING, WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? This story will not be abandoned, though. Hell, I'll tell my friends to finish it if anything happens to me. Riss, you reading this? That means you. Good luck.
Again, thank you to all my wonderful, patient reviewers and readers who encourage me through this. You know, several people told me to stop writing if this story was too hard, if I felt like it was too detrimental to my health. I can't thank those people enough, it's so unbelievably heart-warming to know that people I've never even met care about me like that, enough to take the time to tell me to take care of myself. Blackhawk68, PancakeMixLordofPantopia, Lucifer's Advocate7 and Purpurea are the ones that come to mind (epic name, by the way, PancakeMix) but I know there were others. Thank you so much for showing that you care.
SPOILER ALERT FOR EP.3.14: the whole Cough Syrup scene in this weeks Glee? Totally heartbreaking. I already knew Max Adler was a good actor but DAMN. Made me cry. And Quinn! What's going to happen to Quinn! Don't actually tell me if you know, I don't want to be spoiled, but OMGTEETHKNASHEXCITING! End spoilers.
The ring of the doorbell half an hour broke the spell, making Harry jump and go for the place his wand holster should be again and Kurt leap to his feet.
"It must be a couple of New Directions-ers, I'll go get them," Kurt started towards the door. He hesitated in the doorway and shot Harry a worried look over his shoulder. "Are you sure you're okay to see someone, sweetheart? They won't mind if you need more time."
"I'll be okay," Harry assured him even as he grabbed a fistful of the comforter with a white-knuckled hand. "I'll be - I'm okay."
"If you're sure," Kurt nodded, shooting his boyfriend a reassuring smile, and slipped out the door. Harry could hear him rushing down the stairs, calling out that he was on his way, and he squeezed his eyes shut when he heard the door open. Harry practiced the deep breathing exercises he'd learnt from the healers the year before as quiet voices drifted up the stairs, followed by approaching footsteps and worried whispers. He forced himself to let go of the bedspread as the footsteps reached the top of the stairs, relaxing slightly when Kurt was the first one to appear in his line of vision, followed by Quinn and Brittany. The two blonde girls had equally wide, nervous eyes, but when Harry smiled at them weakly they seemed to relax. Puck and Santana appeared behind them, looking uncomfortable and out of place as they hovered behind the two blonde girls.
"Hey guys," Harry whispered, wincing a little when he heard how weak and small his voice sounded. His heart rate felt like it was running at double of what it had been a minute ago, and he discretely wiped his sweating hands on his sweatpants. Kurt slipped into the room first, putting a comforting hand on Quinn's shoulder when the girl's breath hitched at the sound of Harry's voice.
"Come on in, guys, Harry and I put together some snacks," Kurt instructed, waving to the tray on the desk and plopping down next to Harry on the bed, giving his boyfriend's hand a comforting squeeze. Brittany brightened at Kurt's casual tone and practically skipped over to Harry, her pony tail swinging behind her like a puppy's tail. She looked so delighted to see him, so genuinely and uncomplicatedly happy that Harry couldn't help but smile wider.
"Is your brain better now?" she asked, dropping down so she was sitting on his other side. When Harry flinched a little both Kurt and Quinn reached forward as though to move Brittany or pull her back, but Harry forced himself to relax into her side. It's Brittany. She's fine.
"Not all better, Britt, but getting there," Harry couldn't help how soft his voice was; it felt like speaking any louder would shift the balance or something, would break his fragile hold on coherency, making him fall apart again. "I still not going to be at school for a few weeks, but you can visit me now."
"Are you sure you're up to it?" Quinn's voice was a little rough, and when Harry glanced at her he could see her eyes were red. To his surprise she wasn't wearing her Cheerio uniform, and the ever-present cross necklace she wore was missing. After a moment's staring he realised she'd asked a question and shook his head to clear it.
"Yes, I'm all right for short visits, I think. I mean, it's you guys. You're my friends. I wantto see you, even if I am still a little bit crazy. Quinn, you're - you're not wearing your Cheerios uniform. Has something happened?"
"Kurt didn't tell you?" she smiled humourlessly, tugging on her soft blue dress. "I quit. I handed my uniform in on Monday."
Kurt shifted uncomfortably behind Harry, and Santana and Puck were exchanging awkward looks. Quinn just shrugged a little, still smiling an unhappy little smile, "It's no big deal. I just realised that other things were more important than being just another Cheerio."
"Oh," Harry blinked, glancing at Kurt sideways. Kurt's lips were pinched and his forehead was creased with worry; So this is what he meant by Quinn acting strangely."Okay. Um - that's good for you, I guess, if that's what you wanted. Um. Has anything else been happening?"
"Mr Schue's got us writing original songs for Regionals," Puck spoke up from where he was still hovering behind Santana. "We kinda suck at it."
"I thought my song was awesome," Santana protested, scowling over her shoulder at Puck. Kurt made a little scoffing noise and Quinn rolled her eyes as the Latina girl continued. "It was sexy, it had a kick-ass beat, it was catchy as hell. It isn't my fault Schuester's a prude."
"Santana, sweet as it was that you wanted to right an ode to your love of Brittany, I'm pretty sure the judges at Regionals would have taken issue with a ten minute graphic description of exactly where you like to stick your tongue," Kurt rolled his eyes as he spoke, shaking his head a little as Santana pouted and ignoring Brittany's mumble of, "Well, I liked it.".
Harry flushed red as Quinn nodded meaningfully and Brittany grinned, but Santana just huffed.
"Whatever, Ice Queen. Hot Lipswas a work of creative genius. Just because you're more virginal than your average nun doesn't mean the rest of us have to be - "
"Anyway," Quinn spoke over Santana firmly, matching the glare the other girl shot at her. "Not much else has been happening. The usual drama and whatever. Artie wants to make a short film but Rachel keeps trying to make herself the lead, Mike and Tina had a huge row over contact lenses but made up in about two hours, the usual. The rest of us are just getting ready for Regionals. Do you - will you be able to perform...?"
Harry took a moment to think about standing on stage in his current state, about feeling hundreds upon hundreds of eyes on him, watching him, without any means of defending himself. He felt himself go pale.
"No, no, I won't be - I don't think I'll be able to..." he stammered, grabbed for Kurt's hand as his vision went a little fuzzy. Santana was shooting Quinn a fierce glare and the blonde girl rushed to reassure him.
"No, that's fine, honey, don't worry about it," Quinn reached over slowly and stroked the back of his head. It made his skin crawl a little, the unexpected touch, but he managed not to flinch to badly when he saw the fear and grief in the girl's eyes. "We miss you, but there will be other performances for when you're feeling better. And we have enough members that if you don't want to perform anymore you won't have to."
"Yeah, dude, don't worry about it," Puck spoke up for the first time, send Harry a weak smile when the still-pale boy looked up at him. "For real, we got this. Just get yourself ready in time to perform at Nationals, we got this performance in the bag."
"It's true," Santana added, and Harry relaxed at the sight of her familiar cocky smirk. "You just sit tight, precious, while we make this competition our bitch in time for your triumphant return, whenever that may be."
"Thanks, guys," Harry leaned back against Kurt's side, smiling up at his boyfriend. "I'll definitely get better in time for Nationals. I don't want to miss any more school than I already have."
"Lord Tubbington asked how you were this morning, Harry," Brittany added suddenly, grabbing Harry's hand. Harry jumped a little and made to pull back, but forced himself to just give her hand a gentle squeeze and smile, thinking of the half-Kneazle tabby that lived with the somewhat dim girl. "What should I tell him? He's so worried, he ate all of my chocolate cake."
"Brit-Brit, we've talked about this, you can't let your cat eat cake," Santana sighed, and Harry's smile felt much more natural.
"Tell him I'm getting better, Brittany. I am, I swear. It's just taking a while. Tell him I promise that as soon as I'm better, I'll come over to watch movies with him again," Harry assured her, squeezing her hand again. Her face lit up in a wide grin and she launched herself into his arms, smooshing his face against her chest in a way that made his cheeks flush red.
"I've missed you so much, Harry," she squealed against his head, allowing an alarmed Kurt to pry her off of the smaller boy. Harry shot Kurt a sheepishly reassuring smile - he'd felt a little nervous at the sudden movement, but he wasn't going to panic - and settled back against his boyfriend's side.
"Have you seen Hermione today, dude?" Puck shuffled his feet and shoved his hands into his pockets, trying and failing spectacularly at looking casual. "Kurt says she got here the other day."
"Yeah, she was here when I woke up," Harry nodded, exchanging a fond, exasperated glance with Kurt at Puck's red ears. "She's just gone back to my house to rest for a while, I'm sure she'll be ready to see you soon."
"I don't care, I was just asking," Puck dismissed that with a wave of his hand, before glancing at Harry out of the corner of his eyes. "...but how long do you think that'll be, exactly?"
"I'm not sure, Puck, I'm sorry," Harry shook his head and smiled a little at the enormous pout on the self-proclaimed badass's face. Kurt's voice tickled Harry's ear when he spoke up, and the smaller boy snuggled closer.
"I'm pretty sure she wants to see you, Puck. She was very appreciative that you thought to call her and let her know what was going on," Kurt's voice was light and innocent. "I'm sure if you bring her some daisies and ask nicely she might even let you hold her hand."
"Oh shut up, motherfucker," Puck muttered with a scowl, his ears turning red. Quinn and Kurt exchanged an amused smile and Santana laughed openly as he glared at the carpet. "I don't care, I was just wondering."
"Uh huh," Kurt nodded knowingly, and Harry grinned to himself. He actually almost felt comfortable. Then Brittany spoke up again.
"Where did your dad go, Harry?" she asked, and Harry froze. The other teenagers in the room seemed to freeze with him, Quinn and Santana sharing a glance and Puck shifting uncomfortably. Brittany went on, oblivious to the sudden tension in the room, her brow furrowed in distress, "Santana said that after he gave you those bruises he went away, but that doesn't make any sense. Why would your dad hurt you? Dads aren't meant to - "
"Brittany, maybe this isn't the best time," Kurt interrupted, placing a warm hand on Harry's back. Harry didn't feel it. Instead, he felt the shock of betrayal and fear he'd felt when he'd woken up with Moony snarling down at him. He saw himself flying across the room, felt the pain of the desk splintering under his weight, the glass from his computer screen smashing against his arm, heard the crash and the roar of the wolf. He could smell the blood pouring from his nose and mouth and the acrid scent of death from the battle field and taste the bile rising up in his throat as he forced himself to run through Hogwarts as it burned -
"Right, you guys need to go. Now."
"What did I do? What's wrong with him?"
And it was burning, he was burning, his side was burning where Moony's enormous paw had slammed into his side -
"You scared him, Brittany, didn't somebody tell you to be careful what you said?"
"Yeah, but Kurt - "
He couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe through the smoke and the tears and the vomit rising in his throat from fear -
"Look, I know you didn't mean to upset him but you all need to get out now. He's having a panic attack. Harry, sweetheart, can you hear me? It's Kurt, it's just Kurt. Everyone else is going."
"I didn't mean to - "
"He knows you didn't, Britt-Britt, Harry's just upset right now. We'll go."
"Thank you, Santana. Please shut the door behind you."
The voices were leaving, footsteps muffled behind a sharp click but he could still smell the burning, could see his blood where it had splattered on the wall behind him had Remus done that? Remus Remus Remus hurt him like that he didn't think he would why would he hurt him but he hurt him he hurt him he said he never would and he hurt him...
"It's okay, Harry, everything is fine. You're safe, Harry, no one is here but you and me. Come back to me, sweetheart."
Kurt's voice was far away but it was there, it was just hovering at the edges of his consciousness above the roar of the fire and the burning smoke and the cries of the wolf as Remus threw him across the room with one blow, he could hear Kurt's voice calling him and it was pulling him up and up and up -
And he could feel it, could feel the burn in his lungs that came from hyperventilating, could see Kurt's room take shape around him, the fear fading and surging with each inhale and weak exhale, his body beginning to ache with the intensity of it, the excess of oxygen ironically making him feel like he was suffocating...
It's Kurt's room, I'm with Kurt, just a panic attack I'm fine. No no no get a grip get a grip, you're fine, you're fine, stop hyperventilating everything is fine-
"Harry, sweetheart, can you hear me?" Kurt was running his hands up and down Harry's arms soothingly, but the sensation was still muffled by the fear. Harry fought to tamp it down, fought to stop freaking out, nothing is wrong, I'm safe, I'm safe here,squeezing his eyes shut and leaning forward so his forehead rested on Kurt's shoulder. Kurt began to rub his back with strong hands, trying to ease the terrified tenseness in Harry's muscles. The wizard let out a choked sob against his boyfriend's side and groaned in frustration, raising his still clenched fists to bump against his temples.
"Everything is fine, Harry, you're safe here," Kurt was repeating, and Harry shook his head and pulled away.
"I know, I know I know I know, I just can't stop - it was just Brittany, it was just a question, this is so stupid but I can't stop-"
Scared, scared, shouldn't be scared nothing is wrong, nothing is wrong, Remus is gone he left but he can't hurt me now I have to I have to I can't I can't -
"This is not stupid, this is just something that's going to happen some times," Kurt soothed, tucking a lock of Harry's hair behind his ear and smoothing it down. He kept talking as Harry forced his breathing into something more reasonable. "Beating yourself up because your body goes into meltdown sometimes isn't going to help. All you can do is keep doing what you're doing and let me help you."
Kurt's here, Kurt's here and I'm safe, gotta calm down, gotta calm down...
"You're pretty much the only thing that does help," Harry admitted, voice still tight and choked as the anxiety did its best to close up his throat. His left arm spasmed out and tried to grab his hair, utterly involuntarily, and he forced it back down. He ground out his next words through gritted teeth. "You and Ron and Hermione, I feel safe around you, I do, it's just -"
"You don't have to explain a thing, just keep breathing," Kurt pulled Harry back against his side, running his fingers through the other boy's long hair. Harry's forced, stuttering breaths slowed as Kurt pet his hair, the fear, the memories of hurt run fight betrayal fading to the back of his mind until he began to relax. It took a few minutes for the last involuntary gasps to stop, for his heart rate to stop picking up every few seconds before slowing back down, but Kurt ran his fingers through his hair and whispered soft words of comfort into his ears and it faded. The twitching stopped, the racing of his mind slowed, and he pulled out of his boyfriend's embrace with a weak, sheepish smile.
"Feeling better?" Kurt asked gently, pushing a lock of hair out of Harry's eyes. The wizard nodded sheepishly.
"Much. I mean, I did tell you I'd have an anxiety attack," Harry laughed self-consciously, looking at his lap. He ran a finger along the seam of his pants as he continued, his voice still rushed and raw. "Granted, it was a pretty minor one, so maybe we can count this as a win?"
Kurt rolled his eyes and tapped Harry's nose affectionately, pulling his boyfriend closer to him and pressing a loud, wet kiss to his cheek, "You dealt with a group social situation on the same day as waking up from the week from hell, lasting three times as long as you said you would, and your anxiety attack only lasted ten minutes. Sweetheart, I think we can definitely count this as a successful experiment. You're doing great."
"I'll let you know when I begin to feel like I am," Harry muttered, sighing lightly as the last vestiges of his fear retreated. He shifted back so he was lying on Kurt's bed, his legs dangling off the side. Kurt chuckled and walked his fingers across Harry's knees, provoking a reluctant smile from the shorter boy.
"How about I keep telling you until you believe it?" Kurt teased, grabbing Harry's knee and squeezing it. "It's only day one, and you're doing great. Trust me, before you know it we'll be on stage at Nationals, singing our hearts out to the crowd, front row centre."
At Harry's moderately terrified look Kurt amended, "Or in the back row off to the side. Point is, you're going to get better. And I'm going to be here every step of the way."
A gentle knock on the door sent Harry careening into Kurt's arms again, fear shooting down his veins and making his fingers freeze up. Kurt made a muffled noise when Harry collided with him again, but wrapped his arms around the smaller boy comfortingly and called out, "Who is it?"
"It's Hermione and Ron," the girl's voice called through the door, a little more energetic than she had been earlier. "Can we come in?"
"Harry?" Kurt asked quietly, and the wizard coughed a little awkwardly and pulled off of Kurt's lap, lightly trembling again at the shock.
"You were saying about me doing great?" he muttered wryly, ignoring Kurt's sympathetic look in favour of calling out. "Come on in, guys. It's fine."
The door creaked open slowly, and Harry couldn't help the way he tensed. He saw their hair before he saw them; a tuft of messy red and one of frizzy brown poking around the edge of the door. Then they were peering around the doorway with identical worried looks, Ron's head nearly a foot above Hermione's. When Harry waved them over sheepishly, still pressed against Kurt's side, both of their faces split into wide smiles and they bounded into the room.
"You," Ron began seriously, bouncing onto the bed next to Harry and slapping him upside the head in one movement. "Are a bloody idiot, mate. And that's coming from me."
"Good to see you too, Ron," Harry rolled his eyes, rubbing his head with one hand and smiling gratefully at Kurt as his boyfriend excused himself. Ron shook his head, the scowl he was trying to force at war with his relieved grin. When Kurt had left and closed the bedroom door behind him with a click Ron punched Harry's arm and began again.
"I'm serious. You've got a deteriorating potion-addicted werewolf breathing down your back and you don't think to tell us? We had to hear about it from Hermione's boy toy, for crying out loud."
"I know, I suck, I just couldn't bear the thought of screwing up all your hard work," Harry dropped his eyes to the blanket, not wanting the see the exhaustion in both of his friends' eyes. He looked back up after a moment, feeling his eyes go wide as a terrifying thought occurred to him. "Please tell me you didn't drop out of your training for this."
"No, I didn't, but I bloody would have if I had had to," Ron grumbled, shaking his head. He swung his long legs around so he could sit next to Harry and drag the boy back against the headboard with him, Hermione taking her usual place at Harry's other side. "Merlin's sweaty nutsack, Harry, do you really think some stupid training is more important than your life?"
"I think your dreams are more important than me being a bit uncomfortable for a while," Harry mumbled, snuggling deeper into the group hug. At Hermione's disbelieving noise he admitted, "All right, so I was more than a little uncomfortable, but still."
"Harry, even if I had dropped out I could have retaken the training next year," Ron shook his head again, tightening his grip on Harry's shoulders with his enormous arm. "Hell, the instructor thinks I'm fan-bloody-tastic, he probably would have let me skip right to the part I left at. As it is I just asked to take my last two exams early and got here anyway."
"Oh," Harry thought about it for a moment, eventually snuggling up against Ron's side with a smile. "I'm really glad you're here."
"I'm glad I'm here too," Ron patted Harry's back and let his friend nuzzle his chest. "Even if I think you're just using me for my hugs."
"I am, it's true," Harry agreed. Any lingering tension from the afternoon's drama was melting away with Ron in front of him and Hermione cuddling against his back, and he let their steady breathing sooth his frazzled nerves. Hermione cleared her throat behind him, and Harry cringed. "Oh god, I know that noise. I have to think now, don't I?"
"Yes, you do," Hermione agreed, running her fingers through Harry's hair. "But only a little bit, okay?"
"When Hermione got back to the house I was already awake, and we did some talking," Ron ran a hand down Harry's back, obviously feeling the way Harry had already tensed. "The people here are obviously great, but you know there are things they can't know."
"So there's a few minor points we're going to deal with before we go back to England," Hermione went on, her voice soothing and casual, as though she hadn't put her life on hold to solve all of Harry's problems. "Now, obviously you're going to need to talk to a therapist, but you can't talk to just anyone. I think setting it up so you can talk to Healer Ryan from here is our best bet. Owl post is too inefficient to do therapy by, and if we use magical means it can be traced anyway. I know how worried you are about being found, Harry, and I'm not going to let that happen. What I'm hoping to find is some muggle way to do face to face therapy from different countries. I'm not as well versed in muggle technology as I possibly should be, but surely there's got to be some kind of video phone by now."
Harry perked up, a thought coming to him, "There is! There's this computer program Kurt's always trying to teach me how to use that lets you use the camera in your computer to talk with live video."
"That sounds perfect," Hermione agreed, sitting up. Her eyes had lit up like they always did when she learnt something new, and she looked thoughtfully over to Kurt's laptop on his desk. "I've really got to spend more time with muggles, I'd never heard of such a thing. Do you remember what it's called?"
"It started with an S?" Harry guessed after a moment, shrugging helplessly at Hermione's exasperated huff. "I don't get all this computer stuff, give me a break."
"You're better than me, mate," Ron admitted as Hermione wandered over to the laptop, muttering to herself. "Some guy next to me on the plane over had this little machine, it was like this big, and it had so many songs on it! Like, he pressed the front of it and it could play anything he wanted! I asked him how it worked and he said something about pods and you-ess-bees but I still don't know what the hell he was talking about."
"That's an iPod mp3 player, I have one of those," Harry laughed a little at the mental image of huge, intimidating Ron peering at a little iPod with wondering eyes. "I don't know where it is, though. Maybe Kurt will show you his."
"Ron, tell Harry what we decided you would do," Hermione ordered from across the room. She was still peering at the laptop, squinting into the little camera dot at the top, and Harry and Ron exchanged an amused glance.
"Right away, ma'am," Ron muttered, throwing a mock salute at Hermione's back. As Harry stifled his laughter the taller boy turned to his friend with a little smile. "Someone has to deal with all the legal issues, like making sure the government doesn't try to snatch you away since your guardian did a runner."
Harry's stomach dropped and he suddenly went cold. Ron was still talking, but all Harry could hear was his aunt's voice ringing in his ears.
"Useless boy, don't you know that you're only here because of our kindness? We could throw you back on the state, let you go into some foster home where they'll really beat you. Now pick up that glass, I don't care who broke it."
"Harry? Harry?"
Ron's voice finally broke through again, and Harry found himself staring up at both his friends - Hermione was hovering by the side of the bed behind Ron, biting her lip and wringing her hands. Harry's was wavering and his eyes were damp as he asked, "Am I - going to have to go into foster care?"
"No, mate, that's what I'm saying," Ron tugged Harry closer, ruffling his long hair a little and making him huff. "I'm saying that I'm working the system to try and get your custody granted to the person of your choosing. Maybe even get you emancipated, although that's gonna be harder in America. They don't worship you here."
"That's one of the US's many positive attributes," Harry quipped, wiping his eyes with the back of one hand, trying to ignore how he was still trembling at the thought of being a ward of the state. "But how can you do that? Control how that goes, I mean?"
"Harry, I'm studying to become an Auror," Ron rolled his eyes. "I kind of have to know the law to enforce it. And even though US muggle law is obviously different to UK Wizarding law, there's enough of the same basic-ness that I can fake it. I mean, custody can only be done so many ways, you know? Besides, you're super rich. Wherever you are, that pretty much gives you free reign to do whatever the hell you want."
"Sad but true," Harry relaxed against Ron's side again, smiling as Hermione wandered out of the room muttering, completely lost in her quest for answers. "I can deal with some of that stuff, don't worry about it too much."
"It's cool, Harry, I know what I'm doing," Ron tugged on the ends of Harry's fringe playfully. "Frankly, I'm glad to be doing the taking care of you for once, instead of you looking after me."
"Please, you're always doing the taking care of," Harry protested, shaking his head as he thought back to all the times Ron had had his back as he ran off into danger. "I would have been dead at 11 if not for you."
"Too right you would have been," Ron agreed amicably. "But did you really think I wouldn't know who convinced the Head of Magical Defence Division to take a 17-year-old into the early-Auror selection?"
Harry's face flushed, and he dropped his gaze, "...oh."
"Yeah. Oh," Ron shook his head. Harry looked up at him sheepishly and shrugged.
"I didn't get you into the program, I just... convinced him to let you sit the test."
"I know, mate," the taller boy laughed a little, patting Harry on the head and ignoring the scowl he got in return. "My scores got me into the program, but you gave me that chance. Also there was the whole 'anonymous donor' who paid to fix the Burrow after the war-"
"I said it then, and I'll say it now; you can't prove that was me."
"-and someone taught me to cook this summer, long after my mother had given me up as a hopeless case - "
"You were eating fish and chips every night of the week! Someone had to do something."
"-not to mention that same someone staying up all night to rub my back while I threw up after ignoring directions and under-cooking the chicken," Ron leaned back as he continued to list things off, making Harry roll his eyes as tiny little moments ("-telling that hot blonde girl that I could bench-press my own body weight this summer, mending my socks, sending me American sweets this year...") were rattled off like great achievements until Harry finally slapped a hand over his friend's mouth.
"All right, I get it, I'm not totally useless as a friend," he laughed a little and shook his head. "I just don't think me playing your wingman over the summer quite equates to you flying around the world and putting your life on hold to get me out of my own mess."
"There are no 'equates' in friendship," Ron said wisely, eyes sparkling with mirth but sincerity dripping from his words. "You're either a good friend or you're not, and you, mate, have been a bloody good friend to me. I'm not hear because I owe you, though let's be honest, I probably do for some reason. I'm here because my best friend needed me, and I want to be here. Now shut up, get better, snog your boyfriend, and let me take care of the bribery and legal bullshit, okay?"
"Okay," Harry agreed reluctantly, his brow crinkling a little. "But you let me know if you need any help."
"I won't," Ron smiled cheerily, rocking up to clamber to his feet - as always, far too tall for Harry's self-esteem - and nodded towards the door. "Shall we go find Hermione and Kurt, make sure she isn't interrogating him about that computer phone or something?"
"Good idea," Harry scrambled up after him, reaching up and grabbing his shirt when Ron opened the door suddenly.
"Whoa, all right there, mate?" Ron turned and clasped Harry's shoulder, eyeing where the smaller boy was clinging to his t-shirt. Harry took a deep breath and forced himself to let go of the fabric.
"Yeah, just - not so fast, yeah? I'm still a little edgy when I leave the room."
"Sure, right, sorry," Ron nodded, slipping an arm around Harry's shoulder and pulling his friend close to his side as they started out of the room. "No worries. You just gotta let me know what you need, okay?"
"Yeah," Harry muttered, flushing a little at his own irrational behaviour. Still, he couldn't help himself from sticking close to Ron's side as they walked down the stairs, tensing as they reached the living room. The curtains were pulled over the large bay window, blocking the view of the street, and Harry was torn between being relieved and being endlessly embarrassed.
"They're probably in the kitchen, it's through here," Harry pointed, pulling away from Ron to lead them into the kitchen. Sure enough, Hermione was scribbling notes on a piece of paper at the kitchen table as Kurt chopped vegetables at the counter.
"So you're sure you can put money on this account via credit card?" the witch was asking distractedly, and Kurt nodded.
"I'm pretty sure credit card is the first option. Hey Harry, Ron."
"Hey," Harry wandered over to Hermione, looking at the scrawled words and diagrams on her ragged piece of paper. "I see you've made some progress?"
"I think this might be the thing, Harry," Hermione nodded, her smile wide and delighted. "The program allows real-time face-to-face conversation from anywhere in the world, and it's not too expensive to run. We'll just have to get someone to set Hea - Dr Ryan up with the same system and you can begin therapy again. Honestly, we should have done this months ago. I can't believe I didn't think of it."
"I didn't either, Hermione, don't beat yourself up too much," Harry patted his friend on the arm, smiling up at Kurt from across the room. "I guess I'll need a new computer to do it from, since mine's busted."
"Is it?" Kurt looked over his shoulder with a frown. Harry nodded.
"Yeah, turns out having a person bodily thrown into it isn't good for the screen," the wizard shrugged as everyone else winced, too calm surrounded by his family and boyfriend to panic at the memory again. "I might need a new phone too. I actually don't know where a lot of my stuff is, or what condition it's in."
"Maybe my dad can take you over there in a few days," Kurt suggested cautiously, his eyes assessing Harry in the reflection of the window. Harry nodded, fighting back the rush of fear at the thought of going back to that house - that house that he'd once thought of as home. He'd felt safe in that house once he'd gotten used to how big it was; his bedroom was like his own personal domain. But thinking back to how he'd felt in that moment when he'd realised Remus had let him down, how he'd been beaten down emotionally and physically as surely as if he had been with the Dursleys... it didn't feel like home anymore. Now home seemed to be Kurt's bedroom, maybe even just Kurt's bed. Nowhere else felt safe to him.
Hermione's hand on his arm brought him out of his brooding. She was yawning when he looked up at her, clearly trying to suppress it but too exhausted to force it down.
"Harry, Ron and I might get going soon," she managed to get out around her yawn. "We just wanted to let you know what our plans were, and see if you were okay. I don't know about Ron, but I'm a bit -"
"Completely shattered," Ron supplied helpfully as Hermione yawned again. "We'll come back tomorrow when Kurt's at school, but-"
"No, yeah, of course," Harry nodded, getting to his feet to hug Ron goodbye. "You guys get some rest. I'll see you tomorrow when you're feeling better."
"Oh, your bag, I brought a bag with some of your stuff," Hermione dragged herself to her feet and staggered into the hallway, grabbing a sports bag Harry recognised as one of the ones he owned but had never used. She dropped it on the kitchen table and hugged Harry with one arm, waving to Kurt with the other. "I'll see you tomorrow, Kurt. Thanks again for everything."
"My pleasure, Hermione. Have a good sleep. You too, Ron," Kurt waved the knife he was using in their direction before turning back to his cooking.
"I'll walk you out," Harry gestured towards the door after Ron had mumbled his goodbyes, and the three Wizarding teens made their way to the front door.
"I found your wand, Harry, it's at the bottom of your bag in the locked wooden box," Hermione informed him in a whisper when they reached the front door. "You'd left it in Remus's room, on the bed."
"Right, I don't remember doing that," Harry shook his head, scratching his arm where his holster should be. "I suppose there's not much point putting it back on yet. It's nothing short of a miracle no-one has felt it yet, given how often these people hug, and it's not like I can use it."
"True, but keep it close," Ron ordered, pulling the shorter boy into a one-armed hug as he opened the front door. "It never hurts to be cautious."
Hermione made some joke about Ron being the next Mad-Eye Moody, but Harry didn't really hear it. He was staring at the suddenly open front door, staring out into the quiet street.
There's a whole world out there, he thought distantly, taking in the neighbour across the road getting out of his car, a cyclist riding past, a dog barking in the background. There's a whole world out there that I haven't been a part of for a week, and I forgot it. A whole world, and now I'm afraid of a living room window. Is this what happened to Remus? Six months in St Mungos and he forgot how to be in the world? I have to get better. I just have to. I don't want to forget how to be in the world again.
"Harry? Are you okay?"
Hermione's voice called him out of his introspection, and he looked up at her with surprising calm. She and Ron held identical looks of concern, but Harry just shot them a strangled smile.
"No. No, not at all. But I really want to be," he looked out at the street again, at the little slice of life he could see through the open door. The neighbour was inside now, and the cyclist was long gone. The dog had stopped barking, replaced by the sound of cars from the next street over. A baby started crying next door. "I really can't wait to start living again."
PancakeMixLordOfPantopia