Disclaimer: I do not own the original canon nor am I making any profit from writing this piece. All works are accredited to their original authors, performers, and producers while this piece is mine. No copyright infringement is intended. I acknowledge that all views and opinions expressed herein are merely my interpretations of the characters and situations found within the original canon and may not reflect the views and opinions of the original author(s), producer(s), and/or other people.

Warnings: This story may contain material that is not suitable for all audiences and may offend some readers. Please exercise understanding of personal boundaries before and during reading.

Author's Note: The interesting thing about both children and abuse survivors will always be how perceptive they can be while also being wrong. They see everything around them but prioritize and interpret differently.

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Different House, Different Home
All the Rest
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Harry felt everyone watching him. He knew what that kind of attention meant from back in Surrey. They were waiting for him to mess up. He would eventually. It was just how he was. But he was determined to put that day off as long as possible.

Harry was good at figuring things out without bothering anyone. So he knuckled down and worked hard to keep a little ahead in all his classes. It wasn't always easy. Professors McGonagall and Snape seemed particularly difficult to please. No matter what he did, it felt like he never quite measured up to their expectations. Of the two, Harry preferred Snape. The Potions Professor might have been more openly hostile and took every opportunity to berate him, but at least Harry knew what he was doing wrong. McGonagall didn't like even looking at him and only ever did so with a disappointed frown.

Hagrid invited him to tea at the end of the first week. The tea was overseeped but Harry drank it anyway while avoiding the refreshment Hagrid offered. Hagrid didn't seem to mind and kept up a steady monologue on Harry's parents having adventures while they were at Hogwarts. While the groundskeeper never outright says it, Harry understood from the number of times Gryffindor was mentioned as his parents' House that him being in Hufflepuff would be disappointing to his parents. It hurt a bit, thinking that about the heroes that everyone remembered, but it was only another way he wasn't what they had wanted.

Harry refused to be ashamed of the people who had rallied around him like they actually wanted to be his friend, especially since Ron had backed off after the Sorting. For the first time, people were only smiling when they saw him and when they did frown it was usually followed with an inquiry about his health. It was nice, almost like the family that McGonagall had mentioned before the Sorting.

When his yearmates discovered that Harry was planning to stay at Hogwarts during the winter break, they put their heads together to figure out how to make sure he wouldn't be alone for Christmas. Then they all insisted that Harry needed to go home with Hannah so that he could be around the maximum number of Hufflepuffs–that phrasing made Harry's heart ache pleasantly because all of them must have noticed that Harry enjoyed the moments when he was in the middle of a crowd of badgers and wanted him to have even more for Christmas. It was the nicest present he had ever gotten aside from Hedwig during the summer.

At least, it was until he realized just what being at a family home during a family holiday meant when one was actually included in everything like a member of said family. It was overwhelming and confusing and Harry knew that he kept almost ruining things because he would occasionally catch Mrs. Abbott watching him with a sad look on her face. He wasn't certain what he was doing that was wrong but Mrs. Abbott had only hugged him really hard and kissed his forehead when he had dared to ask.

"You're perfect, Harry darling," she had murmured against his skin. " You've done nothing wrong."

"But I make you sad," Harry protested. She pushed him back just far enough that she could cup his face and gently make him meet her eyes. Sure enough, they were filled with tears again. He felt like crying himself. "I've done it again."

"Oh, darling," she said firmly, "I am sad, but it is nothing that you've done. I am sad because I can see that someone hurt you and no one should ever hurt a child. It is nothing that you did."

"I don't want you to be sad," he confessed. Harry bit his bottom lip before rushing to continue. "I can go…? If that would make you happy."

"No, that wouldn't make me happy, darling." Mrs. Abbott's expression seemed to grow more firm. "I want you here. You will always be welcomed in my home, no matter the reason or the length of time you stay. Just like how Helga made her House at Hogwarts, my house is opened to everyone who needs a place."

"Even me?" Harry asked awed. She pulled him in for another long hug.

"Especially you, darling."

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An Ending
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