AN: Hey guys, I'm glad this got a positive response, and I hope you will all keep reading, but this chapter was exhausting to write. I hope you enjoy it and read on!

This chapter does include minor abuse of alcohol and some child abuse, but if you cannot handle a few black eyes, I suggest you stop reading here.

Songs Used:
Gone too Soon by Daughtry - Sung by Harry

Black Eyes

"It's your fault Fred is dead."

The words came of no shock to Harry, "I know."

George nodded drunkenly, "I just wanted to make sure of that."

As the 21-year-old staggered up the stairs, Harry sighed, and entered the kitchen to do his homework.

But first, he wanted to figure out what song he was going to go for Glee. Someone he loved, that was easy. He could pick Ginny, or his baby girl.

The thought of Lily stung, like it did every day, but he carried on, ignoring the tears that clouded his vision.

Okay, how to express how he felt about either? There were many songs he could pick.

Harry picked up a pencil, and drew out a table. One side for Ginny, the other for Lily.

Harry started with Ginny's side, songs instantly coming to mind.

I Can Wait Forever by Air Supply
I'd Come for You by Nickleback

Harry then moved onto Lily's side.

I Will Carry You by Selah
Gone too Soon by Daughtry

The lists were basic, and Harry knew he could sing each one, but he was still stuck. He didn't have favorite songs, he just loved music.

He sighed and put the list aside, grabbing his math homework. He worked through the simultaneous equations quickly, and put that aside. He looked at his Spanish homework, but he decided he'd do it later, after dinner.

"George, what do you want for dinner?" Harry called, hoping for something easy.

For a few minutes there was silence, then George responded, "I will not eat what you cook; You'll try to kill me, too."

Wow, George really is slaughtered, isn't he?

Harry shook his head, and decided he'd just cook himself some chips, so it would be done quickly. As he was cooking, George walked down the stairs, and into the kitchen.

"What you doing?" George asked, and Harry turned around.

"I'm cooking some chips for my dinner. You can have some if you'd like," Harry offered, hoping the red head would accept.

However, George shook his head, "I already told you, I didn't want anything you cooked, Potter."

Harry sighed and turned to George, "If you hate me this much, why did you offer to come with me instead of Kingsley."

George smiled, "Because your family. I can't leave you alone, can I?"

Okay, this doesn't feel right, Harry thought before responding, "No, I guess not."

George left the kitchen, letting Harry breathe a sigh of relief. He was just drunk; he always got like that after too many drinks.

Harry finished cooking, and quickly ate the meal he had cooked, wanting to finish his homework and go to bed.

He pulled his Spanish to him, and tried to complete the worksheet, but his mind was occupied with memories and fears and he just couldn't do it. He stood from the table, and went over to the fridge to take all the alcohol.

He carried the bottles of beer to the sink, and began opening them and pouring them down the drain. He managed to do three before he was disturbed yet again by George, this time, wanting a drink.

"What do you think you are doing?" George asked, in the threatening tone that Harry's uncle used to use when Harry was in trouble. Of course, George didn't know this, but it didn't stop Harry from being scared.

"I'm getting rid of all the alcohol; it's not good for you," Harry offered as an explanation. He drained the fourth bottle, before turning to face the tall redhead, but he wished he didn't.

"Follow me," The words were harsh, and Harry followed the man without question, his body not going with the instinct to run. There was something left of the 5 year old terrified to run from his scary guardian.

Harry stood before George in the beautifully decorated living room. The large TV was turned off, the curtains were drawn, and Harry could swear he had seen that scene before. He instantly took his glasses off, wanting to keep them in one shape, and it would help his lie for a black eye the next day.

I slipped in the shower.

It was an easy lie, no details, just a basic lie; nothing suspicious.

The fist came towards him and Harry closed his eyes so he didn't know when to move away. Pain blossomed in his eye, but it was okay, because he could hear George walking away.

Once George was out the room, Harry opened his eyes, and made his way back into the kitchen for a bag of frozen peas. He then headed upstairs to his room, ignoring the sobs from George's room.

The next morning, Harry dragged himself to school, his eye throbbing. He ignored the pain and found his first classroom easily, being Spanish. He was the second one there, Kurt already being in his seat, texting on his phone.

"Morning, Harry," Mr. Schue greeted, and Harry smiled at him, slipping into his chair.

"Hey Kurt," Harry greeted, and Kurt jumped about a mile into the air, making Harry giggle.

"Oh my Gucci, Harry, don't do that!" Kurt exclaimed, pouting when Harry just laughed.

"I'm quiet, and you were lost in your own world," He offered, "It's not easy to not scare you."

Kurt smiled, and realized Harry was right, "Have you decided what song you're doing for glee? We could sing together?"

It was only a suggestion, but Harry didn't want to share the knowledge of his girls yet, so his response probably came off a little cold, "I'm not sharing my song."

Kurt looked miserable for a moment, so Harry decided he needed to fix what he had said, "I don't even know what song I'm doing yet, and the person I'll be singing about, I don't need everyone knowing."

"I can keep secrets!" Kurt protested, but Harry shook his head.

"It's not that," Harry paused, "I just can't trust anyone after… well… what happened in Britain."

Kurt sighed, and left him alone as people started piling into the room.

The lesson flew by, and he soon found himself heading to English Literature with Artie while Kurt walked with Mercedes.

The lesson wasn't difficult; the teacher vanished in 10 minutes and never came back, so Harry spent it chatting with Artie and Puck, yet again deflecting the topic of himself and his past.

It was when Harry brushed his hair back with his hand that someone noticed his eye.

"Jesus Harry, who'd you get into a fight with?" Puck exclaimed, and Harry inwardly groaned, having forgotten about the throbbing in his eye.

"The bathtub; I slipped in the shower," The lie was simple but Puck didn't look like he brought it. However, he dropped the subject, but there was something in his eyes that Harry didn't like.

After the lesson, Puck walked with him to math.

"Harry, why did you move to America? And no, you cannot deflect it, this time. Just tell me, tell us. The pain is in your eyes and we can't help you if you do not tell us."

The words were softly spoken, softer that Harry imagined Puck could speak, and he couldn't help but drop his gaze.

"I can't tell you, I don't… I don't trust you enough. I don't trust anyone."

It was a lie, but Harry knew he couldn't just say 'I only trust the dead.'

They slipped into lesson and joined Kurt, but Harry could feel Puck's eyes watching his every move.

Math was simple enough that Harry ended up drawing a picture of Ginny. Her eyes were perfectly round, her freckles in the right place and her smile was fixed. It wasn't very big, only doodled on a notepad, but it was good enough for Harry. In the corner, curved around the shape of her hair, he wrote her name.

He just didn't see Kurt watching his every move.

The rest of the day flew by, and Harry found himself back in the choir room, sat between Kurt and Brittany. Almost everyone had seen his bruise, and he had managed to give the same excuse every time, so he knew he was safe this time.

By this point, he had decided which song he was going to sing, because not a day went by that he didn't think of his little girl, his Lily. Bellatrix deserved what came for her; her messy, long death.

She was Harry's first kill, and he spent the longest on her, torturing her for 3 hours, revenge for all the deaths she causes, before stabbing her and leaving her to die.

His second kill was Fenir Greyback, and he just killed him with a killing curse, not being bothered to spend time on him. Harry just didn't have the energy.

His last kill (or that was what Harry hoped to be his last killing) was Voldemort. He shot him with a muggle gun in the stomach and again in the forehead. One shot for each of his parents.

After he finished killing, he returned to the hall and brought Ginny into his lap, whispering words into her ear, telling her how sorry he was, and how much he missed her already, and telling her to look after their little girl, raise her to know her daddy, and make sure she is forever loved.

"Okay," The work brought Harry out of his thoughts, "Who would like to do their solo or duet today?"

Rachel instantly stood up and Harry focused on her, her singing slightly predictable. She had chosen a song and copied it straight. She wasn't making it her own. She had a good voice, but she had an inability to make that song her own.

Once you become predictable, you become vulnerable.

Moody's words didn't apply in that situation, but they came to Harry's mind anyway, and he had to fight back a smirk. It wasn't appropriate for a romantic song.

After Rachel, Brittany and Santana performed a song together, more suggestive than anything, however it showed how much they loved each other.

"Does anyone else want to perform?" Mr. Schue asked, and Harry took a deep breath, making his decision.

"I will."

Harry stood and headed to the front, making eye contact briefly with Puck, who was still watching his every move.

"Today could have been the day,
That you blow out your candles,
Make a wish as you close your eyes."

The words flowed easily, his eyes closing, thinking of the day Ginny pushed out the dead child, her labor been induced.

"Today could have been the day,
Everybody was laughing,
Instead I just sit here and cry,"

Kurt furrowed his brow, trying to figure out what Harry was trying to say, what he was trying to express, because he couldn't tell.

"Not a day goes by,
That I don't think of you,
I'm always asking why this crazy world had to lose,
Such a ray of light we never knew,
Gone too soon, yeah."

Quinn looked down at her lap, realizing what Harry was singing. He had a child, just like her, but he'd do anything to have her back, and she gave her child up willingly.

Rachel covered her mouth with a horrified expression, her heart breaking for the small boy before her, singing his heart out, letting out all the hurt someone had caused him.

"Who would you be,
What would you look like,
Would you have my smile and her eyes?
Today could have been the next day of the rest of your life."

Harry thought back to when he held the cold body in his arms, tears dripping onto her sleeping (but not really sleeping) face. The way he vowed to kill Bellatrix that day for killing an innocent child who hadn't even been born.

"Not a day goes by,
That I don't think of you,
I'm always asking why this crazy world had to lose,
Such a beautiful light we never knew,
Gone too soon,
You were gone too soon
Yeah.

Not a day goes by,
That I don't think of you."

He finished the song and looked around, again finding wet eyes and Quinn sobbing into Finn's arms, even though they weren't together.

I can't make a habit of this.

AN: How did I do? Thanks for reading, please review.