AN: Hey guys, I'm updating this a little earlier than I would like, due to Harry and JK's birthdays, and the book release of Harry Potter and the Cursed Child. This is my longest chapter as of yet, so please enjoy a lengthy read.

Broken

It was 3am when Minerva McGonagall showed up with a girl with dirty blonde hair in tow. They both were clutching a coffee and they looked exhausted. The girl also looked like she had been crying, but she perked up at the sight of two teenagers sleeping on each other.

Will had tried to send them home, but after getting permission from their parents, he relented, allowing them to stay. Mercedes kept muttering things under her breath that neither man understood, and she glared at the door until she fell asleep, cursing George Weasley for never returning.

Kurt had cried for a while, but with Mr. Schue's comfort, he eventually dropped off to sleep, resting his head on Mercedes shoulder. She had wrapped an arm around the thin boy, her mutterings never pausing for a second, and in the silence, Mr. Schue thought he caught her train of thought.

"I didn't tell. My fault; I didn't tell. I should have told someone."

Her mutterings didn't even sound like Mercedes, but he left her too it, not sure if he was hearing right, and eventually, sleep overtook her.

When McGonagall entered the room, a harsh look upon her face, her eyes scanned the room, narrowing as they landed on the three in the corner.

"Where is Mr. Weasley?" The woman said, her voice stern like she was talking to a two year old and Mr. Schue felt slightly intimidated.

"He left the hospital hours ago. He's passed out in his bathroom in his own vomit. I told you he shouldn't have come with Harry."

The words came from the blonde girl, and her big dreamy eyes contradicted her words. Obviously, there were definitely issues with George Weasley being Harry's guardian.

"Thank you, Luna, and I will not ask how you know that." The lady said, not even looking at her. The blonde girl, Luna, smiled at the small praise, and went to sit beside Mercedes, smiling fondly at the sleeping teenager.

Mr. Schue stood up, "I'm guessing you are Minerva McGonagall. George told me you were coming before he left 'for a coffee'. I'm William Schuester, Harry's teacher."

She held out her hand, and they shook, her firm grasp pleasing, "I taught Harry, but I looked after him too; it was my job as his head of house. I know him better than most."

"Glad someone does. We're still waiting to see him, so you might want to have a seat." William murmured, gesturing to the seat beside the one he was originally sat in.

Luna was humming sadly, playing with a strand of hair, her eyes filled with tears. She stood from her seat and went to the window where the doctors were surrounding his bed, and she knew he had gone into cardiac arrest again.

That was the fourth time, and Luna wasn't sure if she was able to watch him be resuscitated again.

She turned away, and looked over to the Spanish teacher talking softly to her headmistress, and she suddenly realised what needed to happen.

Luna's life was full of sudden realisations and 'just knowing's, and although no one, not even her father, understood, it was like her mind was needed, especially for Harry.

"Harry needs you, and you need him."

The words may have been too quiet for the man to hear, but McGonagall turned her head, watching Luna slip out the door, needing the cold early morning air… and a cigarette.

She was found leaning against the wall by the teacher about half hour later, her cigarette between her fingers, and sobs on her lips.

William embraced the 16 year old girl, and he felt her fingers clutch onto his vest.

"It's my fault he's here," Luna sobbed, her shoulders shaking, "If I wasn't so clumsy, so fucking out of it, he wouldn't be here. He'd have his little girl, and he'd have Ginny. He'd have a reason to live."

He didn't say anything, but he held her tighter, sniffling slightly.

By the time the two had composed themselves and made their way back into the hospital, Minerva was sitting with Harry, holding his hand and talking to him.

"I sent you with George, and I agreed with him that it would be best. I ignored his drinking and Luna's concerns and gave into him, and I shouldn't have. I've failed you again, and this time I don't think I can fix it this time."

"You can," A voice from the doorway caught her attention, and she looked over at the tall man, surprised, "He hasn't died this time, so there is still time to make things better. However, he may succeed next time, and then there will be nothing for you to fix because you were too late."

His words cut straight through her, and she looked down at her lap like she had been scolded, but the man continued, his voice now softer, "I think you ought to get some sleep. Luna has planned to go to a hotel and get some rest, so I think you should join him. I'm taking the day off; I'm in no state to teach and I doubt the kids are going to school, either. Leave me a phone number and I'll contact you when he wakes, and when he's been moved to the wards."

The lady composed herself, and passed him a card with her mobile number on it, standing to leave.

"Don't break him like we did. I don't think we'd be able to put him back together."

The words sounded broken in themselves, and her beaten tone proved it. As she slipped away, Will took her seat, taking Harry's hand into his own.

"You are one of my kids now, Harry, and that means you matter to me. You have so much to live for, and we're all here for you, no matter what you've done. The only thing that disgusts me about this entire situation is the people who did this to you."

Will brushed his fingers across Harry's forehead, brushing the hair out of his eyes. His glasses had been broken in his fall, but Will would sort an eye appointment, because something in his gut told him George wouldn't.

"Mr. Schue?" Came a tired voice, and Will smiled. Kurt was awake.

Will stood and slipped out of the room, finding both Kurt and Mercedes waking up, Mercedes stretching and Kurt rubbing his eyes. William looked down at his watch and saw that it was only 5am, and he hadn't slept in over 24 hours.

"Is Harry okay?" Mercedes asked, her eyes searching him for an answer. Will sighed, lowering his gaze.

"Physically, yes; he will make a full recovery, however the emotional side may take a little longer. He isn't awake yet, but you can go and see him. Then I suggest you go home, have a shower, get changed and come back. Your parents are aware of the situation, and have already made plans to call the school so you can have the day off," Will paused for a moment, thinking over things for a second, "I also suggest contacting the other glee club members and telling them not to go to rehearsal, but they may visit after school. Understand?"

The two nodded, and Mercedes rushed into the room, wanting to see him.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you, I'll make sure you know how loved you are when you wake up, I promise." Her words were whispered in his ear, tears glistening on her cheeks and after pressing a kiss to his forehead like a mother would their child, she left, allowing Kurt to have his moment.

"I'm sorry I assumed the worst of you when you asked me to leave, it didn't occur to me that you may be genuinely uncomfortable with men. I hope you forgive me."

His words were not as heartfelt as Mercedes, but he had no idea what had happened between the two, her only words to him about Harry being, "He isn't homophobic. Don't be so quick to judge."

As he left the room, he didn't see the tear slip down Harry's cheek, the broken boy having been awake since McGonagall left, "I'm sorry, too."

When Mercedes and Kurt returned, clean and freshly clothed, Harry was being moved up to the wards. Mr. Schue was walking along aside the bed with a girl who had dirty blonde hair. Harry seemed to be awake, tears sliding down his cheeks, his soft sobs seeming louder than they were due to the echo of the corridor.

Mercedes and Kurt followed wordlessly, making brief eye contact with their teacher, who tried to smile at them but he just couldn't. The pain of watching a child suffer like this was too great, so he kept his eyes on Harry, softly brushing his hair back and trying to sooth his pain.

The blonde girl didn't look up at them, but Kurt could have sworn she somewhat relaxed as Mr. Schue made eye contact with them, but he couldn't understand how she would know.

When the nurses pushed Harry into a private room, the blonde girl and Mr. Schue stayed with Mercedes and Kurt as the staff got him settled, taking a seat outside.

"Hello Kurt, Mercedes, I'm Luna. I am an old friend of Harry's, but I'm glad he has made new ones."

The moments she finished her greeting, she left their line of sight, and the three humans assumed she went to get a coffee.

The nurse came out, her blue eyes pained and lost as she made eye contact with the teacher sat next to the two children, "Mr. Schuester, Harry is asking for his guardian. Shall I attempt to contact him, or shall I just contact the children's services for blatant neglect?"

The words were practically spat, as George's disappearance yesterday hadn't been taken too lightly; a teacher who had known the child for three days was more willing to stay than his own guardian. Who even did that?

"Um…" Mr. Schue was stuck; he had never been in this situation before, he wasn't sure what to do, "I don't know. Can I go and see him, though? I've got a feeling he won't take very lightly to decisions being made for him."

The nurse smiled and nodded, gesturing to the door. Mr. Schue stood, and with a final glance at the two teenagers who were discussing songs to sing for Harry, an idea in his own mind for that, he entered the room.

Harry was now sat up, his sobs having subsided, but the tears still slipped down his cheeks. His wrists were bandaged and his hands were folded in his lap, "They want to call children's services, don't they."

Although it was worded like a question, it was a statement, and Mr. Schue nodded, taking a seat.

"Luna said that I should let what happens happen, and when it comes, make the right decision. Is this that decision?"

The teacher sighed, leaning forward, "I don't know, but I do know that this is your life. I know you were abused growing up, and I know you were in the middle of the British war."

The man paused, looking for any signs of further distress before continuing, "Moving into a stranger's house isn't an option for you, and for sure, if they call children's services, you will go into foster care. I suggest you find someone you truly trust, not out of obligation, and have them come to you."

Harry nodded slowly, biting his lip, "Can you get Luna?"

As he murmured the words, she came around the corner, peering into the room with a coffee in hand, "Hey Harry."

As Mr. Schue got up to leave, he felt a hand on his arm. It was Harry's and his green eyes looked up with him with such an innocence that hurt, "Thank you."

The man nodded and exited to find Mercedes and Kurt arguing over which song they wanted to go for him, so he sat down and decided he'd throw something in that was completely different.

"How about Skin by Sixx AM? It would probably be a good one for him to feel more than those. It's comforting, and it shows that you can see him, not what he looks or seems like."

The two looked at him, and Kurt looked vaguely impressed, "Hm. Hadn't even thought of that."

"Once Luna has come out, you should go in and see him. I think it'll do him good to see that you care, even though you've only known him a few days."

The two nodded, and then began discussing how they were going to perform for him and when. After 20 minutes, Luna came out, and she smiled. She handed him a coffee that had been on the table, and replaced Mercedes' seat, smiling.

"Harry trusts you, y'know. Not very much, but he trusts you more than he trusts me at this precise moment, which is saying something. Harry trusts no one," She said, grabbing a magazine, "I heard what you said to him, and I agree with part of it, but I think, no, I know that Harry doesn't need anyone from home. He needs somewhere and someone new; someone who can teach him the difference in attempted murder and a friendly handshake, someone who can salvage what is left of his childhood and someone who can love him without a thought to what he's done. And although I only know one person who can do all that, Harry has to make that choice and pick him to be his saviour, his friend and his confident."

Mr. Schue nodded slowly, taking in the speech she had just given while flicking through a magazine, "And who might that be?"

"You."

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