Author's Note: …So. Hi. How is everyone?

I am aware that it's been almost exactly three years since I last updated this. I've had a metric fuckton of life-stuff going on, including losing the job I loved under pretty traumatic circumstances, becoming a carer for my very elderly grandmother, and attending university while balancing major health and mental health issues. I've barely written at all for my own pleasure in years. But I promised I would finish Notoriety, come hell or high water, so here's another chapter, with more to come hopefully before December. The chapters won't be as long as they used to be – this one is about 5500 words, around half of the average before – but I figure it's better than nothing, right?

Thank you so much to everyone who has sent in kind reviews and PMs. Even if I didn't respond, or only responded recently, I appreciate you taking the time to check in so much. I'm going to try and respond to reviews through the new reply system from now on – the reply system that didn't even exist when I was last on here, how crazy is that? – so if you have questions I'll answer them there. One question that no one has asked yet but after re-reading previous chapters I feel needs to be answered: Is the Healer's name Bryan or Ryan? You know, since I've called him both of those things, sometimes in the same chapter. Um, it's not because I'm stupid and bad at editing, his name is just Ryan Bryan. Yeah, let's go with that.

Thank you all again for how supportive and interested you've been. I hope I don't let you down.

In between early morning therapy sessions and catching up on school work the week went pretty quickly for Harry. When he woke up on the morning of Regionals he was genuinely surprised.

"How the hell is it Thursday already?" he muttered as Kurt ran through his morning routine, humming under his breath. Harry was still curled up in Kurt's bed, and when the wizard slipped his glasses on he could see that it was barely six in the morning. "Are you ready for today, love?"

"Oh, I hope so," Kurt called from his closet, running out a few moments later frantically spraying his hair with hairspray. "Our songs are pretty good but I'm not convinced we know them, we only finished writing them the other day, and the choreography is so intense and complex I really don't know how Finn and Puck are going to handle it, and Mercedes is petrified about her solo -"

"You guys are great, love," Harry dragged himself upright and reached for Kurt's hand, tugging him forward. "I'm sure everything will go fine, and you'll have a big trophy to show me when I come back to school. Relax."

"Right, I - right," Kurt let out a long breath. "Of course we're going to be awesome, we're awesome. What are your plans for the day?"

"Ron's coming over after my session to discuss the last technical details I have to worry about," Harry sighed and squeezed Kurt's hand a little tighter. "Hopefully by now they have more of an idea what happening with R-Remus..."

Kurt squeezed back and smoothed Harry's tangled hair off of his face, "Well, take it easy. Finn and I should be home by five, with Dad and Carole - will Ron be able to stay until then?"

"Yeah, he said he can stay tonight," Ron had had dinner with the family on Monday, but he'd been running around making last minute arrangements for Harry and Remus ever since. Harry hadn't asked him where his former guardian would be going - they didn't want to risk Remus revealing that Harry was in the United States, so the plan was to get him back to England - but he assumed Ron would be letting him know as soon as it was all arranged. "Really, love, I'll be fine. Focus on you, and how brilliant you're going to be."

Kurt sighed and pressed a kiss to Harry's forehead, "I can worry about you and be brilliant on stage at the same time. I'm just that talented. Think Finn is awake yet, or should I go wake him?"

"It's not even 6:30 yet, do you really think he'll be up?" Harry shooed Kurt towards the door. "Go on. I'm going to get some exercise in and take a shower; I'll see you at breakfast."

"Don't push it too hard!" Kurt shot Harry a warning look, even as he grabbed the full glass of water from beside his bed and made his way to the door. "You're not back to full strength yet, you don't need to do 500 sit-ups a day or whatever."

"I'm doing 50!" Harry called after him, laughing a little. He'd only just resumed his morning routine of a few dozen sit-ups and push-ups a day on Tuesday, at the mind-Healer's suggestion.

"Now that you're not doing training or Quidditch, you've been doing a lot less exercise than you used to," Healer Ryan had told Harry after the teenager had mentioned the nervous energy he could feel building every day. "Exercise can, in some cases, help ease symptoms of depression and anxiety. It releases natural endorphins. And having the in-built routines that regular exercise promotes is also a good way to manage anxiety. Obviously you've been too weak in the last couple of weeks, but now that you're feeling better physically getting back into a routine might help. Just don't push yourself too hard; you're training for yourself, not for an entire world."

So far, Harry had found the Healer had had a point. Performing the familiar, repetitive motions was soothing, and knowing his muscles were aching because of exercise and not the lactic acid build-up caused by anxiety attacks felt like progress. He slipped onto Kurt's bedroom floor, getting into position to start his work out. He snickered to himself when he heard a remarkably high-pitched help from Finn's room, followed by a Kurt's sunniest voice cooing, "Up and at 'em, Finn! We have a trophy to win!"

"Aww, Kurt."

"Nope! Get up, get in the shower – you've got about fifteen minutes before Harry needs it, so scoot – and get ready to go! The bus leaves McKinley at 7:30 and if you make me late, I'll replace all your plaid with paisley. Go, go!"

"I'm going, I'm going!"

Harry was still snickering to himself when he heard Finn dragging his feet towards to the bathroom, yawning and grumbling to himself. It wouldn't be long before Harry moved in with Mr Schuester – he'd discovered on Wednesday that he could walk outside (if only to the letter box) without panicking. Harry knew he'd miss a lot about the Hummel-Hudson household; Carole's mothering hugs and fussing, Burt's quiet, patient compassion, Finn's constant attempts to make him feel included and, of course, Kurt. Kurt, who didn't let a day go by without reminding Harry that he was wanted, that he wasn't a burden. Kurt, who sat through Harry's freak outs with grim determination. Kurt, who argued until he was blue in the face to have Harry stay in his bed with him for the duration of his stay, despite the fact that Harry hadn't been sleepwalking for days.

("We don't know that he won't start again," he'd hissed at Burt when his father had brought up the idea of Kurt moving back to the couch. "And he doesn't wake up screaming what I'm there, dad. Isn't that reason enough? We'll leave the door open if you want, but I'm not leaving him until he's ready to go!")

Kurt, who was sticking his head into the room to watch Harry work out with a sly smile on his face. Harry raised an eyebrow at his boyfriend, who shrugged, unrepentant.

"Just enjoying the view," he admitted, and Harry grinned. He was still wearing the same t-shirt and sleep pants he'd slept in; there wasn't really a view to see. Kurt went on. "I'm making egg-white omelettes with spring onions for breakfast. Would you like one? I'll even put a little cheese in yours if you don't tell my dad."

"Yes, thank you. That sounds lovely," Harry flipped onto his back to start his sit-ups. "But you know he'll know right away if he asks me. I can't lie to him."

Kurt giggled, "Sweetie, you can't lie at all."

As Kurt disappeared down the hallway, Harry thought to all the little half-truths he'd told to keep the Statute of Secrecy over the last few months, and smiled wryly. Kurt really didn't know the half of it.

Harry wrapped up his exercise when he heard Finn get out of the shower. He smiled when Finn wandered past him in the corridor without even noticing he was there; Finn never was the best in the mornings. Harry slipped into the steamed-up bathroom and, after a moment's hesitation, wiped the condensation from the mirror.

He'd been trying to look at himself every morning, to get used to seeing himself again. It was another of Healer Ryan's suggestions, after Harry had admitted to avoiding mirrors since he'd gained the scars on his face.

"This is the body you've got now, for better or for worse," the Healer had said. "For a long time, other people got to decide what you did with it. Your uncle told you to hate it. Headmaster Dumbledore and your trainers told you that it belonged to the Wizarding World. It belongs to you now. Not to the Wizarding World, not to your trainers, but to you. You need to be okay with it."

"For better or worse," Harry muttered, taking in his sallow, scarred skin, eyeing the points where his bones poked out, running a hand along the most vicious scarring on his cheek. He stood up a little straighter. When you start getting back outside, you'll tan again, he told himself firmly, trying to call up just a little of Kurt's confidence. And you'll put the weight back on. The scars are fading to white at the edges, so one day they'll be white all over.

He forced himself to stare into his own eyes through his glasses; the eyes that everyone told him were just like his mother's. This is my body. It's mine.

Somehow, despite the cheesiness of this little ritual, Harry did feel a little lighter when he jumped into the shower.

Breakfast was, as it always was in the Hummel-Hudson household, a mad affair. Both Kurt and Finn scoffed down their food (Finn adding as much cheese to his omelette as he could before Kurt confiscated the cheddar) before running upstairs to finish their preparations. Harry watched them indulgently with Carole and Burt, feeling deeply relaxed until he noticed the adults exchanging pointed glances.

"Er, is something wrong?" Harry spoke up after the third look was thrown over his head. The adults started, and Harry smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you. You just look a little worried."

"Not worried, just thinking about something," Carole reassured him, reaching over to pat his hand. "We had an idea we'd like to run by you."

"How would you like to watch Regionals today?" Burt picked up the thought. At Harry's no-doubt alarmed look, he raised a hand. "I'm not suggesting you come along – I don't think makin' your first big trip outside to a crowded, loud auditorium in another town is a good idea – but we might be able to stream it onto your laptop."

"The sound quality won't be very good, and you probably won't be able to see super well, but it'll be better than nothing," Carole continued. She smiled encouragingly. "If you think the noise and excitement would be too much for you, that's fine. We just thought of it last night and figured it wouldn't hurt to ask."

"That sounds great," Harry blinked, a little dazed. "I'd love to watch, I love watching the guys perform, I was really disappointed when I didn't think I'd get to see them. Thank you so much."

"Don't thank us yet, we gotta set it up first," Burt clapped him on the shoulder and walked towards the living room. "I'm gonna ask Kurt to set up Skype on the TV."

"You guys have been so good to me," Harry murmured after he was gone. Carole sighed, and he looked over. To his chagrin, her expression was sad. "Carole? I'm sorry, did I -?"

"Oh, you've got nothing to be sorry for, honey," she waved off his apology. She stood up and started gathering the dishes, and Harry jumped up to help her. "It just makes me sad that you think people being decent is such a shock."

"You've been better than decent, you've been brilliant," Harry protested. Carole shook her head and smiled, a little sad.

"It's the little things, Harry. The little moments of thoughtfulness which are just so shocking to you. They shouldn't be," Carole frowned over the dishwasher, and Harry gave her a moment to gather her thoughts. "I know you've had Ron and Hermione and their families to give you an idea of what goodness is, but so much of it is still foreign to you. It's the stuff you should have learnt at home. I'm just sorry you didn't."

"It's not your fault," Harry muttered after a pause, unsure what else to say. Carole smiled that same sad smile again and reached out to push his hair away from his face.

"I know it's not," she shook her head. "But I'm still sorry."

The kitchen was still quiet when Burt and Kurt came downstairs, Harry's laptop in hand. Harry tried to drudge up a convincing smile when he joined them in the living room, but if Kurt's suspicious look was anything to go by, it didn't work. Much to Harry's relief, Kurt didn't press the issue; he just kissed Harry's cheek as he walked passed and continued talking to his dad.

"So if you bring up a Skype call on your phone right before we go on stage, Harry can answer it on his laptop and it'll come up on the TV," he explained, putting the laptop on the table and unfurling the cord tucked under his arm. He glanced back at Harry. "Just don't change anything and it should work fine. And for the love of Gucci, don't let Ron touch anything. I've never seen anyone more able to break technology."

"He's not great with it," Harry agreed, glancing at the stereo speaker Ron had managed to break earlier in the week. If there was one thing Remus' last few weeks at home had been good for, Harry reflected, it was in teaching Harry how to buy things online and from the TV. He'd had the replacement speaker bought and on its way to the Hummel-Hudson's before Burt even got home to see the damage.

Kurt rolled his eyes, "No, sweetie, you're not great with technology. Ron is a walking disaster. You'd think he'd never seen a laptop before."

"He – " hadn't seen one before coming here "hadn't really used one before. He'd never owned one. He has one now, though. I gave him a couple of the extras from Hermione's little spree."

"A couple?" Kurt raised an immaculate eyebrow in Harry's direction. Harry shrugged.

"Having a couple of back-ups seemed pertinent. He's already broken one of them."

"Of course he has," Kurt deadpanned. With a little flourish, he gestured to the TV. It was showing exactly what was on Harry's laptop. "There you go, all set up. Just don't touch anything and we should be golden."

"Thanks, love," Harry stepped forward and leaned up to kiss Kurt on the cheek. "I'm so thrilled I get to watch you guys after all."

"I'm glad too," Kurt smiled, then hesitated. At Harry's questioning look, he laughed a little. "Oh, don't mind me. I just… I really hope you like it."

"I always like watching you perform," Harry took Kurt's hand and squeezed it. "You're a star out there. Frankly, I like watching you guys way more than I like being up there. I just enjoy spending time with everyone in class."

Kurt squeezed back and smiled, "It'd be a travesty to let a voice like yours go unheard, but I understand. Not everyone can have my diva-power."

Kurt mimed tossing his hair in a very-Rachel Berry kind of way, and Harry laughed. He could hear Finn stomping down the stairs, yelling about being ready to go, so he leaned up and pulled Kurt into a sweet, chaste kiss.

"I love you," Harry murmured against Kurt's mouth, smiling at his boyfriend's happy sigh. "I'm so grateful, and so bloody proud of you. You're gonna knock 'em dead."

"Harry…" Kurt whispered back. Before he could go on, Finn tumbled into the room.

"Okay! I'm ready! Oh, man," he caught sight of the TV and grinned, the boyish smile lighting up his face. "You're gonna watch us? That's brilliant! You'll get to hear Kurt's song for – "

"Finn!" Kurt hissed, smacking his step-brother's shoulder. He shot Harry an embarrassed look. "Remember what I said about the surprise?"

"What song?" Harry wondered, looking between the two teenagers. Finn looked sheepish, cowering a little under Kurt's fierce glare. "I thought Rachel wrote the song you guys are singing?"

"She did… write one of them," Kurt mumbled the end of the sentence, before dropping a lightning fast kiss to Harry's cheek, grabbing Finn and his bag, and running for the door. He called out as he shoved Finn out in front of him. "Okay, see you guys later, wish us luck, buh-bye!"

The front door slammed, leaving a bemused, blinking Harry in its wake. Burt stuck his head through the kitchen door, looking equally baffled. He shot Harry a questioning look, but all Harry could do was shrug.

"I dunno, mate. He's your kid."

A few minutes after Kurt and Finn's unexpectedly hasty exit, there was a familiar knock at the door. Harry motioned for Burt and Carole up the stairs to keep getting ready, making for the door himself. He was past the point of panicking every time he made his way to the door.

"All right, Harry?" Ron greeted Harry with a light nudge of the elbow as the shorter boy ushered him inside.

"All right, Ron," Harry grinned back, relishing at the complete lack of pain in his face at the expression. His bruises had faded to faint yellow tinges all over his body, and the scratches he'd left on his face had finally healed. Even the dryness of his lips was gone, the final vestiges of his week of dehydration and starvation finally disappearing. Physically, he felt the best he'd felt in weeks.

Three minutes later, when a dropped glass in the kitchen left Ron trying to coax him out from underneath the coffee table, Harry had to admit that he wasn't emotionally there yet.

"...there a problem in here?" Burt's voice drifted down from somewhere behind the couch, on the stairs. Harry laughed a little hysterically, scrubbing the sudden tears off of his face with the back of one shaky hand.

"Yeah, I'm just - give me a minute, the smashing startled me."

"Any chance you can be startled out here, mate?" Ron suggested, peering under the coffee table with cautious eyes. "Maybe in the bathroom?...where there are band-aids?"

"Huh?" Harry frowned a little, glancing down at his feet. There were a few shallow streaks of blood on the floor next to them; now that the panic was beginning to fade he could feel a few stinging scratches. "Oh. Right. Yes. Um, give me a hand, would you? I don't want to get blood on the carpet…"

"Because of course that's the big issue here," Ron rolled his eyes and grabbed Harry's hand. Harry could hear Burt reassuring Carole at the top of the stairs, wincing when he heard the worry in their voices. Ron looked down at Harry thoughtfully for a moment, before tucking his arms under the smaller boy's arms and legs and lifting him up, bridal style.

"Ron!" Harry protested, wriggling. "Let me down! For Merlin's sake, I'm not an invalid."

"Hey, this way you won't get any blood on the carpet, now will you?" Ron grinned as he made his way towards the stairs, tipping his head towards Burt and Carole as they approached. "'snot like you're a huge burden, mate. You're maybe 50 kilos."

"Thank you for reminding me," Harry sighed and submitted to the indignity, shooting Burt and Carole an embarrassed smile. He really didn't want to stain their carpet.

"How about I take a look at those, honey?" Carole suggested, trailing after the boys towards the bathroom. Harry shook his head.

"You two need to get going, I'm sure it's nothing serious," he assured her. To his relief, Ron nodded along.

"It's just a few scratches, I saw them when he was diving under the table," his tone was casual, like taking cover from a broken drinking glass in suburban Ohio was something people did every day. "I can disinfect it and slap a couple of band-aids on it. And I'll sweep up the glass in the kitchen. Won't take two minutes."

"Really, I'm fine," Harry tried to smile through his embarrassment. Carole was hovering in the doorway, with Burt a few steps behind her, car keys in hand. "Go on. I want to see the show."

"If you're sure," Carole smiled reluctantly back at him, blowing a kiss into the bathroom as she and Burt started back towards the stairs. "Call if you need anything, okay? We'll both have our phones on, and we can be back in less than an hour."

"We'll be fine," Ron grinned, before frowning. "Wait, do you still have that chocolate spread?"

"Yes, Harry sent Finn to replace the last jar you ate," Carole shook her head, her shoulders relaxing. Ron grinned again.

"Then we'll definitely be fine. Have fun! Tell Kurt "break legs" or whatever from me!"

When the front door shut, Carole and Burt were still audibly laughing. Harry sighed.

"Thanks, mate. You're the best."

"Ah, well. After 17 years living with my mum I'm used to turning off other peoples' fretting," Ron shrugged. "You shoulda seen her at the start of the summer after first year. 'Oh, my little Ronnie-kins, you were so brave, but how could you run off into danger like that! I'm so proud of you, but I'm never letting you out of my sight again!' It was mental."

"I'm really surprised she let you stay friends with me, after all the trouble I dragged you into," Harry smiled a little when Ron whipped the wand out of his pocket and began prodding at Harry's foot. "Don't heal them, Carole will want to check on them later."

"I know, I know, I'm just gonna disinfect them," Ron whispered the spell under his breath, and what felt like a stream of cool air rushed over Harry's feet. "And of course she let us stay friends; after seeing how skinny you were that summer she wouldn't have let us stop being friends. If we weren't friends anymore, she wouldn't have had an excuse to feed you up. Now, I could use these plain band-aids that are in here, or we could use the awesome dragon ones. Which would you prefer?"

"Oh, give me the dragons. Why not? I can always get Finn some more."

A few hours later found Ron and Harry sat in front of the TV with their feet on the coffee table, plates with chocolate spread sandwiches in hand. Harry was keeping an eye on the clock, and on his laptop; Burt had said that New Directions would be performing third, so he should be getting a Skype call any minute.

"So Kurt wrote a song? That's cool," Ron licked a stripe of chocolate off of his finger with relish. "Weird he didn't tell you, though."

"Apparently it was meant to be a surprise," Harry shook his head and smiled fondly. "Poor Finn. He'll have gotten an earful on the way there."

"How could it be a surprise if you weren't meant to see the show?" Ron pointed out. Harry shrugged.

"Oh, there's always an official recording of the performances. It just takes weeks to get them out to the schools."

"I see," Ron considered this for several long seconds, before a terrifying smile stretched across his face – one that reminded Harry that yes, this was Fred and George Weasley's little brother sitting next to him. "So you're saying that there's a recording of the performance Hermione and I came to see a few months ago somewhere about the place?"

Harry froze, "Um, no. No there is not. I was mistaken. There is no video or photographic evidence of that at all."

Harry scowled as Ron began to cackle, grabbing the plate from his hand when it looked like his friend might drop it, "Oh, come on. It's not that funny."

"I – " Ron gasped through his laughter. "Am going to get my hands on one of those copies. Mum's desperate to hear about your life over here, and Dad would love to see that kind of technology working. We'll have a family viewing of it!"

"I regret so many things," Harry sighed. His laptop began to chirp at him, and he grabbed the distraction with both hands. "They're calling! They're going on! Shut up, Ron, I want to hear this."

The TV screen was suddenly filled with Burt's face in a dark, noisy room.

"Hey, kiddo, can you hear me?" he asked, and Harry nodded eagerly.

"Yeah, I can. Are they going up?"

"They sure are, yell if you can't see the stage," the angle of the picture changed until the empty stage and the tops of a few heads was all they could see. "Is that okay?"

"It's good, Burt, thanks," Harry swatted Ron's curious hands away from the laptop. Before they could say anything else, the stage went dark and Harry scooted towards the edge of the seat in anticipation.

Good luck, guys. You can do it.

Very quickly, Harry found his cheeks aching from his wide grin. Mercedes nailed her solo, her powerful voice prompting cheers from both the crowd and the Hummel-Hudson's living room. Despite Kurt's concerns, neither Puck nor Finn fell behind during the complex dance sequences of the second song… though Harry did notice Brittany skilfully ducking an errant elbow or two. If he'd had to guess, Harry would have suggested Mr Schuester putting her on Finn's right for that exact reason. By the end of their second song, New Directions had succeeding in whipping up the crowd into a frenzy of cheering and applause. That's what made it so surprising when Rachel suddenly ran to the front of the stage, microphone in hand and spotlight on her, and motioned for the crowd to settle down.

"Hello, everyone! If I could have a moment of quiet, please!" she called, her smile blinding. Harry and Ron exchanged a puzzled look as the audience began to quiet. When the noise level had dropped down to a low, confused murmur, Rachel continued, still beaming. "One member of New Directions unfortunately couldn't be here today, for health reasons. In the short time he's been in our country and our lives, his young man has been a hero to all of us. He was even personally responsible for saving the lives of several members of our club during a deeply traumatising incident a few months back, including my own."

She paused for dramatic effect, one hand placed delicately over her heart. Ron mumbled, "Laying it on a bit thick, isn't she?" and Harry couldn't help but smile, even as he felt himself begin to blush. Rachel went on.

"While he couldn't be here today, we still wanted to express to the world our appreciation for everything he's done for us; from little things like standing up to schoolyard bullies, to enormous acts of heroism and bravery like performing life-saving first aid treatment, to walking right into the literal line of fire for me personally – "

"And, you know, Kurt," Harry added, feeling deeply fond of the ridiculous, melodramatic girl on stage. He was about the same red as Ron's hair by this point, and he could feel his friend shaking with repressed laughter next to him, but over his embarrassment he couldn't help but be touched. Despite the trouble he'd caused them, despite knowing them less than a year, the Glee Club kids still considered him one of their own. "Also, they don't know the aid I gave Finn when he got hurt was life-saving. I healed the worst of it by magic, as far as they know his injuries were never life-threatening."

Ron was still chuckling when Rachel's speech reached its dramatic conclusion, "We know how much you hate the spotlight, so I won't give out your name, but you know who you are, and this… is for you."

The lights came on at the back of the stage, illuminating New Directions. Kurt stood front and centre, looking nervous but resolute. Harry felt his breath catch in his throat as his boyfriend raised his chin and began to sing, his friends humming a soothing tune behind him.

"Forgive me if I'm blushing,

Or if I stumble on a word,

Though this song may be clumsy,

I just need it to be heard."

Mercedes stepped up next to him, taking the song smoothly.

"It's about a boy who treats me right,

Who took my hand and holds me tight,

A boy who just doesn't believe,

That he's beautiful to me."

"Hold on," Ron started. "Why's she singing that and not Kurt?"

"This is Ohio, Ron, a boy can't sing that to another boy here, now shut it," Harry hissed, waving him off. The beat of the song was picking up, and the teenagers on the screen began to dance, with Rachel taking over the next verse. Despite who was actually singing, Harry's eyes weren't leaving Kurt. This was what he and Finn had been talking about; the song Kurt had written was for him.

"Now this boy came right out of no where

When I thought that I was lost

When I felt like the whole world was cold

His smile melted all the frost

When they pushed us down, he set us right,

When things got hard he stayed the fight,

Yet somehow he doesn't know

All the good he has to show."

The music hit a crescendo, and the pace picked up until it slipped from a ballad to a bouncy pop song. The group sang together in harmony. Ron put a hand on Harry's slightly trembling shoulder.

"So please believe in me, baby

I'd never lie or lead you astray

So just believe me when I say,

You're beautiful, you're wonderful,

Through thick and thin, the push and pull,

You're the one I want, the one I love,

The one that I've been dreaming of,

So maybe you're not perfect, baby,

But I know you're perfect to me.

He's always saying things to me,

That I just can't believe he feels,

Like how he doesn't deserve love,

And that he can't believe I'm real.

It's like he doesn't know how good he is,

How brave and how I'm proud I'm his,

And how when he holds me tight,

I have never felt so right,"

"Wow," Ron muttered. "Your boy really wasn't holding back."

"Yeah," Harry muttered, his voice a little hoarse. He could feel tears prickling at the corner of his eyes but he refused to let them fall; he didn't want to miss a second.

"So please believe in me, baby,

I'd never lie or lead you astray,

So just believe me when I say,

You're beautiful, you're wonderful,

Through thick and thin, the push and pull,

You're the one I want, the one I love,

The one that I've been dreaming of,

So maybe you're not perfect, baby,

But I know you're perfect to me.

Kurt and Quinn stepped into centre stage, holding hands. Though the video quality wasn't great, Harry thought he could see the tell-tale signs of Kurt holding back tears as they took the next verse together.

"You say you're worthless, scared and weak

You've seen your future; it's looking bleak

You can't forget your painful past

But hold on, baby, hold on fast

I'm here, I love you, we'll get through

I'm never giving up on you

I know you know I've seen your scars,

But they just show how strong you are,"

The whole group had joined in for the last line, but Kurt had taken the high harmony on the last word, his voice soaring through the auditorium and into the living room. Harry felt literal goose bumps rising on his arms; his boyfriend's voice was never more powerful than when he was emotionally invested in what he was singing.

"So please believe in me baby,

I'd never lie or lead you astray

So just believe me when I say,

You're beautiful, you're wonderful,

Through thick and thin, the push and pull

You're the one I want, the one I love,

The one that I've been dreaming of,

So maybe you're not perfect baby,

But I know you're perfect to me,"

Rachel took centre stage again, smiling her winning smile over the gentle final lines -

"I think that you're perfect, baby

And I'm sure you're perfect for me."

But Harry's eyes stayed glued to Kurt. He could see his boyfriend's shoulders were shaking a bit, and that Mercedes was squeezing his hand tightly. Kurt seemed to be looking through the crowd for something, and when his eyes locked on the camera Burt was holding at held his gaze there, Harry felt like he was looking right at him.

"Bloody hell, mate," Ron murmured after a long moment, over the appreciative cheers from the crowd at the auditorium. "I hope you're planning on keeping him."

Harry could only nod, keeping his eyes locked on the screen. He could feel his cheeks were a little wet, but he didn't bother wiping the tears away. Ron had seen worst from him. On stage, New Directions was celebrating even as they hurried off-stage. The view on screen suddenly changed, and Burt's warm smile filled up the space.

"Alright, kiddo?" he asked. Harry smiled back and cleared his throat.

"Yeah, Burt," he agreed, coughing again when his voice came out cracking. "Yeah. I'm alright."