Harry wouldn't, couldn't look up even to save his own life, but he stood perfectly still as the hand ran upwards from his chest to slide up the side of his neck. The hand slid its thumb in front of his ear and then hooked the rest of its fingers around the back of his neck. Harry and the hand stayed that way for a few incredibly long seconds, until very suddenly, he was drawn a step forward.
As Harry's body made contact with Fleur's, she immediately wrapped her unused arm around his waist. The hug was loose at first, but it tightened more and more over time. The hand resting behind his head moved further round his shoulders until it became an arm pulling him flush against her body, and a head of perfect platinum hair was pressed in down below his chin. Then, there was a wetness dripping against his chest and running down the length of his stomach, and Harry's breath hitched within his chest…
The sobs were quiet, but Harry could feel them in the shaking of Fleur's shoulders and the wetness on his skin.
Fleur Delacour was sobbing and Harry didn't know what to do...
Appoline moved in next, to join in on the hug from behind her daughter. She shored Fleur up against Harry's body and gently put her hands on either side of his face. She was crying as well, but she was also in her element as she sent wave after wave of comfort into the two teenagers.
Harry knew that he also needed to help Fleur, who was shaking now and looked like she might collapse. He closed his eyes and screwed up his will. He flooded his aura with the memory of them caring for him in his Mindscape. He filled his thoughts with the two of them shoring him up with their care, keeping him sane. He radiated intense love and gratitude to the family around him, bathing the room in a Patronus effect...
Fleur choked out a gasp only to start sobbing all the harder. The boy... man… Harry... didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve any of it. He was good, he was just, and he'd lived such a monstrous life. She shook and she cried in his arms for a very long time.
Adrien was shocked silent by the sight in front of him. Harry Potter had more odd silver scar tissue on his torso, legs and arms, then he had empty untouched areas of skin. It was, in fact, oddly beautiful, he suddenly realized. He was shocked that he might feel that way about the signs of a lifetime of abuse, but he did. The scars were mesmerizing. They traveled his body in whorls and lines like a painting made on flesh, and it was obvious that his magic had intervened quite a bit on his behalf...
At exactly the same time, Adrien watched as his daughter was more physically intimate with a man than he'd ever seen or would ever simply allow. He couldn't even stop her, because dammit right now it was necessary. His wife soon followed suit, and Harry was being dog-piled by female Veela. Then, not to be outdone, Harry flooded the entire house with caring and positivity, as if he refused for them to remain sad over him… and they sobbed all the harder. The poor boy had no idea that he'd just staked the two Veela through the heart with his actions. Fleur and Appoline wanted to hurt with him, they wanted to hurt for him, so his actions were having the opposite effect...
An hour went by, during which time the three of them found the floor and held tightly to each other. Very few words were spoken but the message was conveyed nonetheless. Harry was not to blame for what had happened to him, He was not a freak or an idiot and he wasn't ugly... He was Harry Potter and his past was behind him.
....
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