Harry Potter + Glee Crossover »

Whatever It Takes
Author:
Daemon Jones PM
"I'll always be here" Kurt whispered "Whatever it takes. To make you see. To make you speak. I'll be here. When you need to cry, when you want to laugh. I'm here. I'll never leave" If Harry could speak, he'd speak of his love for Kurt, and he'd cry for his losses. If he could see, he'd see the face of his angel. The one who never left his side. T for the themes and language.
Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Angst - Harry P. & Kurt H. - Chapters: 8 - Words: 9,442 - Reviews: 26 - Favs: 106 - Follows: 215 - Updated: 05-13-13 - Published: 08-04-12 - id: 8392280
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Darkness. That was all he could see. His wand had been taken from him along with his clothes, glasses and anything else of value that was on his person.

He had been here for what seemed like weeks, and had only received menial amounts of food and water; just enough to keep him alive. He hadn't seen the light since his kidnapping in Diagon Alley. He doubted he ever would again.

After he had defeated Voldemort, the Wizarding world had been on a sort of high, and had been prying into every detail of his life, forcing his current guardians to commit suicide. He'd loved them dearly, almost as much as he loved the Weasleys and Grangers, his pseudo family. And whilst Daemon and Jonah Jones didn't have seven years of scholarly friendship, they had a loving relationship with each other and their legally adopted son. I digress. Let's continue.

He had been beaten senseless everyday by people in black cloaks and black masks. He knew they weren't Death Eaters; they were all in Azkaban, and this fact confused him. Especially had they had used muggle weapons on occasion. This was the least of his problems, despite his body being covered in bleeding wounds, because his tormenters hadn't returned after their last attack.

Just then the door banged open, and in they marched. Their masks were off and sneers decorated their features. One of them began to chant, not knowing that Harry was the master of Death, and only some of this would work.

Ligare eius corpus,

prohibere aetate,

dimidium vitae,

tollere ira,

replete misericordia,

empathy, amor,

ligaveris tristitia,

fugere mea Dove

A glint of steel was the last thing Harry saw. He screamed: then passed out.


Kurt Hummel had just left the theatre after watching the Lima Lovers musical version of Romeo and Juliet and was heading towards his dads car. He was a little saddened by the fact that none of his fellow Glee-clubbers had come, even though he had formally invited all of them. Looking back on it, Kurt realised that not many sixteen/seventeen year olds wanted to come to a theatre on a Saturday night. Rachel was more likely practicing from her latest Glee solo, Mercedes would be Skyping the new kid Sam, Finn would be playing COD on multiplayer with Puck and Artie, Satan-Santana would be helping Brittany with something, Mika and Tina would be doing something romantic, and Quinn would be, well, Quinn.

He was humming the closing song of the play when a he heard a whimper. He could see his dad in the distance, looking at him, and could see the confusion etched on his ageing features. He gestured to his only living parent to come help him just before he followed the sound. What he saw shocked him beyond words. So he screamed.

"DAD! CALL AN AMBULANCE"

"Calm down Kurt. I'm sure it's not that bad…." He trailed of as he saw the body; naked, covered in cuts and bruises, gunshots, slashed throat, gouged out eye and the other one bleeding sluggishly. Within a second of taking it in, Burt was on the phone, explaining the situation.

"…Looks about twenty, black hair, tall-ish, no ID…"


The unknown man had been in surgery for five hours already, and all attempts at identifying him had come up empty. Lost in musing Kurt didn't notice the Doctor come out of the Operating Theatre with a solemn look on his features. It was only when his dad nudged him slightly that he noticed, his face contorting a look of pain.

"Well?" Burt asked.

"We've discovered that all of his wounds are man made, ranging from three months to 12 hours ago. He has a broken ankle, collarbone, arm, leg, hand, jaw, three broken ribs, a punctured lung, internal bleeding, cracked skull, scratched retina and cornea and severed vocal chords. We've stopped the internal and external bleeding, and mended the remaining eye as best we could, same with the vocal chords. The eye will take a long time to heal, and he will not have full sight in that eye for at least three years. He will start regaining vision after four months, but it will extremely blurry and dark. His vocal chords however, are a different matter."

"How so?" Questioned Kurt.

"Well they were cut pretty deep. He may not be able to speak again, even after the seven month healing process. Even if he can relearn speech, he may not want to. We have to consider the emotional wounds this attack has inflicted on him too. He is going to have to stay in our care for a month so we can monitor his progress, and hopefully track down any relatives. Of course we have to wait until he wakes up and is in a good state for questioning by us and the police." Burt frowned

"What if you can't find out who did this to him, or find his family?"

"We will cross that bridge when we come to it. You are welcome to stay by the way"

"Wouldn't have it any other way."


Dark.

Dark.

Dark.

Dark.

Dark.

Dark.

Dark.

Dark.

Dark.

Why? My eyes are open. I can feel it. Why can I only sense light from one eye?

Visions assaulted him as he remembered the glint of steel and the feeling of that pain came back. He tried screaming, but was only greeted by searing pain across the whole of his body. He heard a tear, and soon felt a wet patch forming on his skin. The nurses were suddenly alerted by a crash resounding throughout the Intensive Care Ward. He had knocked over a vase of flowers. Immediately afterwards, he began having vivid visions of the war, filled with crashes, shouts, and blood. It took three nurses and a healthy dose of anaesthetic to stop his thrashing. His wounds had to be washed and re-dressed and he was tethered to the bed using soft leather straps.

When he woke the second time, he tried thrashing again and upon discovering he couldn't, he calmed down. Kurt was in the room when this happened, and instead of calling a nurse like he should have, he began to stroke the stranger's hair, whispering soothing words until he calmed down.

"I'm Kurt. Kurt Hummel." It felt polite to say, even if he couldn't or didn't reply.

"I'm Harry. Harry Potter" The newly named Harry mouthed

"Harry? Try slowing down. I can read lips. My Uncle Andrew is deaf. He taught me sign language and lip reading."

"Thank you. I know sign language too. I can also read Braille" It wasn't a lie. Harry had learnt from Jonah, who worked at a centre for the Blind, Deaf and Mute. "Where am I?" He mouthed.

"You're in hospital."

"Why can't I see or speak?"

"One of your eyes was gouged out, the other was scratched up. Your vocal chords were severed. I'm sorry." Kurt said brokenly.

"Oh"

Just then Burt walked in.

"Who're you talking to Kurt?"

Harry visibly flinched at the gruff tone, similar to one of his kidnappers. It bought back an onslaught of emotion, causing him to shake uncontrollably. Kurt noticed this, and gestured to his father to be quiet.

"Harry, sweetie, he's not going to hurt you. He's my dad."

He carried on whispering to Harry until he began to drift off to a peaceful slumber in his arms. He laid the fragile body onto the plush white pillows, and pulled the light blue blankets up to his shoulders. Placing the pale hands on top, minding the IV needle, he stepped back and silently beckoned his father outside, closing the door behind him. The countertenor then proceeded to go to the nurse's office and explain what had happened. They looked at him with shock at what he had done.

"Why did you do that?"

"He looked distressed! What was I supposed to do? Leave him there and call a nurse who would just drug him up for another day?"

"Yes!"

"Well at least I discovered something" With that, Kurt turned on his heel and stalked back to his father.

"Come on Dad, we're going to the library"

Initially, Burt was shocked by this sudden display of responsibility, but followed his son to the library. It was only when they got there that he questioned his child's actions.

"Obviously Dad, we are doing what the hospital isn't. We are going to see what we can find out about Harry Potter."

And so they did. By the time they had finished they had a fair amount of information. Not as much as they would have liked, but enough. To begin with, it had been hard, as there were 257'390 Harry Potters in the world. They narrowed it down by going on the missing persons reports and giving a description. They had two. One British and one American. In the end they chose the British one, as he was closer to their Harry than the American, namely because the American was had a possible sighting in Canada two days ago.

Harry James Potter

Born July 31st 1991 (age 20)

Removed from all school records age eleven.

Removed from guardians age 15 due to Child Protection Agencies receiving notification of child abuse.

Place in foster care for three years.

Adopted by Daemon and Jonah Jones.

Adoption nullified three months later due to the murder of Daemon and Jonah.

Dropped off grid for two years.

Bought house in Scotland.

Kidnapped age 20. No sightings as of yet. Full scale investigation has been launched.

"Wow"

Little did they know that some of that information was false. His real name was actually Harrison Laurent Potter-Black Jones, and he was born in 1980, making his true age 31. Daemon and Jonah didn't die; they faked their deaths. They couldn't handle the stress of the media arriving every other day, prying into even the menial details of their lives, so they faked suicide. They also didn't know he was a wizard that had been force-fed a de-ageing potions and liquid obliviate not 12 hours ago. Or that the people who beat him were escaped Death Eaters. Or that he suffered from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

Then again, neither did he. He knew his name, and little more.


On their next visit, Kurt and Burt bought several braille books for Harry, ranging from Romance to Horror, and some more flowers. Kurt also bought his iPod. Soon after arrival, they had developed a pattern. Whilst Harry read, Kurt would listen to his music, and Burt would do paper work. Every few minutes, Kurt or Burt would ask about the book, or ask a question, and Harry would provide a brief explanation, Kurt translating. Harry gave short answers or none at all. A few hours later, when Kurt began humming Defying Gravity, Harry reached over, the lack of tethers, and heightened hearing helping, and touched Kurts arm.

"Oh my goodness, was I disturbing you?" Harry grinned and signed:

"No. But I was wondering if you could sing out loud? I love this song, and want to hear you sing. You can, can't you?"

It was strange how he had trusted them so quickly, but still couldn't tolerate ten minutes with any of the hospital staff. It was Kurt and Burt who had discovered Harrys PTSD, and organised some prescription meds to help it. It was strange, but Kurt didn't mind.

"Sure" Kurt replied, glancing at his dad, who diligently went to close the door.

"Why did you close the door?"

"People can be mean"

"Fair enough"

"From the beginning?"

"Yes, please"

"Alright then" Kurt cleared his throat.

"Something has changed within me

Something is not the same

I'm through with playing by the rules

Of someone else's game

Too late for second-guessing

Too late to go back to sleep

It's time to trust my instincts

Close my eyes: and leap!

It's time to try

Defying gravity

I think I'll try

Defying gravity

And you can't pull me down!

I'm through accepting limits

''Cause someone says they're so

Some things I cannot change

But till I try, I'll never know!

Too long I've been afraid of

Losing love I guess I've lost

Well, if that's love

It comes at much too high a cost!

I'd sooner buy

Defying gravity

Kiss me goodbye

I'm defying gravity

And you can't pull me down"

By the end of the song, Harry was grinning from ear to ear, and proceeded to clap happily.

"Wow! That was amazing," he signed excitedly "I've always wanted to hear a countertenor sing that song" Kurt smiled. Someone who didn't mind his voice and liked his style was hard to come by. The other members of Glee liked him, but he was too, gay, for their tastes. But Harry on the other hand, seemed genuinely happy and pleased by his singing.

Kurt smiled. With Harry, everything was OK.


Translation of Latin chant:

Bind his body,

Stop the age,

Half his life,

Remove the anger,

Fill with compassion,

Empathy, love,

Bind with sorrow,

Fly my Dove

Pardon my Latin, google translate only goes so far :)

So what do we think? Is it OK? This is the first story I have ever written thats a crossover, and has a blind and mute character.

Just for clarification, Harry was de-aged, and had his memory wiped. Also, his kidnappers put up false information for people to find. Harry believes all the information that Kurt and Burt found, though they haven't talked about it yet. Kurt is just turned 17. No spoilers, apart from Sam.

Next chapter up during the next few days

DaeJ

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