Author's Note: This is compliant with the first two seasons. Since all we have of the third season as of now is promos and pictures of Quinn with pink hair, I cannot say that this is compliant with that. In fact, it probably won't be considering Draco Malfoy appears at McKinley here. Use your common sense. Compliant with all 7 Harry Potter books. Not compliant with the epilogue. None of these characters are my own. I am obviously not RIB or JKR. This is also very OBVIOUSLY an AU as the war in Harry Potter ended in the nineties...Common sense once more, kiddos. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this. (: xo.
Quinn Fabray was used to the stares - honestly, she walked around owning this school for so long that things seemed a little bit off when people weren't watching her every move. Admittedly, Glee was a bit of a killer when it came to her reputation, but even then, it didn't change the fact that she was pretty. And being pretty always got you a lot of stares, no matter who you were or what your social standing. Add in the fact that she was captain of the Cheerios, the ex-girlfriend of three of the hottest guys to ever reach McKinley, and the fact that she just got a smoking hot new hair cut? And it was no wonder that the crowd in the McKinley halls seemed to stop in its tracks to stare at her when she burst through the doors on the first day of school, accenting her dramatic entrance with a lift of her chin and a sway of her hips. These past few years since the stupid Glee club had been interfering with her life didn't mean anything. It was senior year. And Quinn Fabray was going to completely own senior year.
She had a fool proof plan, too. Fool proof. And by that, she meant that she was going to make herself fool proof. She had no time to deal with the Lima losers she saw every day - Finn, Puck, even Artie, who had taken to making eyes at her from across the room during Glee Club (gross). She couldn't be bothered by Rachel Berry, either, who had been nothing but a thorn in her side since day one. Even Schuester's obvious favoritism wasn't going to get her down, even if she happened to notice a very frantic Kurt straightening the cardigan of one very gay Blaine Anderson as she walked down the hall toward her locker, something that guaranteed that she'd be doing more background dancing and vocals than usual. No, none of these things was going to bring her down because she was Quinn Fabray, damn it, and she was sick and tired of being ashamed of that. She was captain of the Cheerios, the head bitch in charge, and no annoying diva or gay attention seeker or bad boyfriend was going to change that this year. She would not be shaken. She was a rock. She would graduate top of her class; she would be prom queen. She would take the Cheerios and Glee to Nationals and they were going to win. And no one in the world was going to take that from her.
At least, that was the plan.
And if the stares, cat calls, and wolf whistles that she got as she made her way to her locker were any indication, she was already half-way to where she wanted to be. If anyone remembered the Lucy Quinn Fabray scandal of the year before, they certainly forgot about it now (or thought that Zizes was just very, very good with Photoshop). Because there was no way anyone passing by in the hall could think of this Quinn Fabray as anything but the gorgeous head girl she'd always been. Even Finn, who had that annoying big-mouthed diva clinging to him like she was afraid he'd run away, stopped talking mid-sentence, jaw slightly open as he watched his ex walk past. Yeah - Quinn Fabray was back. Back and better than ever. And she basked in the stares that she knew she got as she turned to open her locker, girls focused on her gorgeous hair and guys focused on her gorgeous ass. This school year was hers. A slam on a locker next to her, however, broke her out of her thoughts of a better year.
"Oh you've got to be bloody kidding me."
Quinn glanced curiously to her right when an accented voice (British, she noted, pleased) reached her ears. Another slam on the metal lockers sent even her locker door shaking, and she snickered as she tried to see what unlucky kid was having trouble with a simple lock. An attractive blond with a rather pointed nose and light silver eyes was glaring at the locker three down from her own, face red with frustration as he tried once more to get the combination right. When he failed yet again, he let out a frustrated groan. A few passing people snickered and pointed, and Quinn frowned. She knew what that was like - being laughed at. It happened to her a lot her sophomore year, when Puckerman...well when Puckerman was being Puckerman. And unsympathetic as Quinn Fabray was, she was going to get nowhere this year if she didn't at least try to charm the new kids. With that in mind, she stuffed some of her extra things into her locker, shut it, and walked over to the boy, a small smile on her lips.
"Having a little trouble?"
The blond looked up from his lock, giving Quinn a surprised look before sliding into a slight glare. "I'm fine." His cold tone was obviously meant as a dismissal; Quinn however, wasn't about to walk away. She straightened her posture and said with a smirk, "Well you could have fooled me. Or do you often walk around punching lockers in their hypothetical faces?"
The boy stared at her before rolling his eyes. "It's just a lock. I can handle it."
Quinn just leaned against the locker next to his, staring up at him with a smile on her face that she hoped was just screaming 'I am not your enemy so stop being a dick you British piece of shit'. Only in nicer terms. "Foreign exchange?"
The boy looked pointedly away from her, trying the lock again. "Pardon?"
"Are you a foreign exchange student? I mean, I just assumed considering...the accent. And your inability to open a lock."
"We have locks in England."
"Oh, so you just naturally suck at opening them?"
The boy glared once more after he failed to open his locker for the third time. "Do you always harass foreign exchange students, then, or is it just me?"
"Just you." He stared blankly back. "You should feel special. It's not every day you earn a conversation with Quinn Fabray."
"Look, I'm sure you are a very special lady-" his tone suggested sarcasm, and Quinn tried not to be offended, "- but unless you can help me open this bloody thing, I really honestly just want you to go away." He then lifted the paper containing his locker number and combination once more and tried again. Quinn rolled her eyes when she realized he wasn't even turning it in the right direction.
"Give me that." She snatched the paper from his hand, causing the boy to immediately bristle, but he did stare at her hand as she worked the lock as if memorizing her movements. When she turned the lock to the right to land on the final number (4), the blond boy raised his eyebrows when she simply opened his locker as if it was something elementary. She pressed the paper to the boy's chest until he grabbed hold of it and said in a tone that she would admit was slightly condescending, "Are you always this hopeless?"
"Are you always this rude?" Quinn cocked an eyebrow and the boy smirked. "I see." Then he turned back to his locker, putting some books (where in the world did he get books already?) in and rearranging them. Again, Quinn felt as though she was being dismissed. Annoyed, she pulled on the boy's shoulder until he was at least semi-facing her.
"I was trying to talk to you," she said and the boy stared at her as though annoyed. "I just helped you out. The least you could do is say 'thank you' or at least tell me your name."
The boy surveyed her face as if analyzing her and trying to see if she was worthy or not. The idea annoyed Quinn but she didn't say anything; she was sure that the look he was giving her appeared on her face more times a day than she would like to admit and whether she was comfortable or not, she had long since learned that Karma was a bitch. Finally, though, his body seemed to relax and he extended a hand toward her. "I'm Drake." He frowned as though saying that upset him, and Quinn knew that she'd won. Trying not to smirk, she shook his hand.
"Quinn. Pleasure to meet you."
"I'm sure it is." Then he pulled his hand back, closed his locker, and turned and walked away. Quinn raised her eyebrows (the nerve of some people) and then turned and headed in the direction of Mr. Schue's room, smiling when she ran into Santana on the way. She was not going to let that kid bother her - nope, not this year. Not in the year of Quinn Fabray. So instead of ranting to Santana about the nerve of certain blond haired freaks like she typically did, she just gave her friend a smile and began chatting animatedly with her as they walked into their first Spanish class together. She was not going to let this Drake kid bother her. She absolutely, one hundred percent refused.
"I mean I was just trying to be helpful." Or maybe not. "Honestly, S, you should have seen the look on his face when he walked away. Like he thought he was just so cool because he's from England."
Santana shook her head. "That's just the way guys are, Q," she said. "If he's hot, he's cocky. Probably doesn't help that he has that accent and every girl is going to be bowing to his cock because of it."
Quinn snorted. "He's not even that good looking," she said quietly, tapping her fingers on her desk. "I mean his face is kind of pointed. Like some sort of rat or..." She waved her hand around trying to think of a better word. "Or a ferret even."
Santana snickered loudly and Mr. Schuester looked up from his desk. "Santana, Quinn. Quiet."
The two girls just exchanged looks before Santana mouthed, "We'll talk later," and turned back to her worksheet on conjugating verbs. Quinn however, couldn't focus and took to doodling a small picture of a ferret in her notebook with a speech bubble coming from it that said, "I have an English accent; bow to my cock." When Santana saw it, she laughed so hard that she had to go into the hallway for a full ten minutes before she was able to calm down.
"Ferret alert, Q. And look - he's found Berry."
Quinn looked up from her lunch (a miniscule salad along with her water bottle, a few grapes, and an apple) to follow Santana's pointing finger and sure enough, she saw exactly what her friend said. Rachel Berry talking animatedly to a wide-eyed Drake, who looked just the right amount of shocked, annoyed, and uncomfortable for Quinn to know that it was his first time talking to the brunette diva. She laughed at his misfortune and took a small bite of salad. "Poor kid. I'd feel sorry for him if he wasn't such a-shit, what's he walking over here for?"
Brittany, who had just joined them moments before, finally turned to look at the boy who was now - sure enough - making his way toward the table where the three Cheerios sat. "He looks like my aunt's baby rabbit," she commented. "I wonder if his hair is as furry as it looks." Quinn choked on her lettuce at the comment and Santana was still patting her on the back soothingly when Drake finally reached their table, Rachel Berry in tow. He look one look at the three girls and raised a curious brow but didn't say anything.
"Hey guys!" Rachel said excitedly. "I don't know if you know, but this is Drake-"
"We've met," Quinn interrupted, and she saw the corner of the boy's mouth turn up before he dropped back into his normal blank expression.
"Oh, good, then this makes things less awkward. I was just talking to him about joining the Glee Club, something he adamantly refused to do at first, and then I noticed that he was staring in this particular direction and then I noticed you three sitting here and I figured that if I couldn't convince him-"
"Then he might be convinced by people who are actually attractive and capable of communicating with other human beings?" Rachel looked rather downtrodden at Santana's words, but nodded nonetheless. "Well sorry to burst your bubble, Berry, but with Kurt's little boyfriend coming in we're going to be fighting for solos as it is. Why would we want ferret face to join?" Quinn glanced at her and smiled very slightly before looking back at Rachel.
"Because, Santana, the more people we have, the more we are able to do with choreography as well as different harmonies as with the guys we have a definite separation of-"
"Ah, ah," Quinn said, raising a hand. "Don't care. Drake, are you even interested in singing at all?" The blond shook his head and Quinn gave Rachel a rather condescending smile. "See, Berry? Your attempts at trying to recruit more people to sway behind you in the background staring at you with mock adoration while you belt out a song that quite frankly isn't meant for your voice has once again failed. Now stop harassing the poor kid and please - let me eat my lunch." She gestured toward her salad, which Rachel seemed startled to see, as if eating in the lunch room was a completely foreign idea when there was business to be dealt with.
"But Quinn, you don't understand-"
But Quinn just raised her hand again, stopping Rachel mid-sentence, and then continued to eat her salad while Santana and Brittany exchanged smiles. Everyone loved a sassy Quinn Fabray, after all.
"Quinn." The head Cheerio glared openly at the annoying brunette who still hadn't left, but allowed for Rachel to keep talking. "You don't seem to understand. Draco can really sing-"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Santana interrupted, holding both her hands up in front of her as if Rachel was bearing down on them and she wanted to push her away. "Draco? Did you honestly just say that ferret face over here is named Draco?"
Drake blushed and Rachel nodded. "Yes, Santana, hence where the shortened version of his name 'Drake' came from. Now as I was saying-"
"No, Berry, shut up. Kid, your name is Draco? Seriously?"
Quinn saw his cheeks turn red and nudged her friend with her shoulder. "S, I think we've established that."
"But Q, come on! We have fucking Harry Potter shit going down right in front of us. What's your last name? Is it Malfoy?" Drake's silence was enough for her and Santana nearly doubled over in laughter. "Is it really? My God that's really fucking rich. We have a real wizard here in our midst." Drake's eyes widened and Quinn thought for a moment that he looked absolutely terrified. She nudged her friend again, this time harder.
"Santana..."
"What? Oh, Q, seriously? I'm just having a little fun. After all, how many Draco Malfoy's could really exist in the world? And he's British, too!"
"How do you guys even know...a-about Harry Potter, I mean." Drake's question was so out of left field that Quinn couldn't help but laugh along with her friends.
"Is that a legit question or are you just being stupid again?" His blank expression said enough. "Honestly, Drake, everyone knows about Harry Potter. It's only like, the most popular book series in the world."
Draco just stared back at them blankly, looking almost confused, and then Berry stupidly blurted out, "Oh my God, Draco, do they not have Harry Potter in your country?"
This made everyone, even Brittany, stare at Rachel with incredulous looks on their faces. Then Drake finally said, "Of course we have Harry Potter in England. It all happened in England. I just...I hadn't known that it had branched this far."
"How?" Quinn asked bluntly. "Do you not have Internet or something?"
"Internet?"
"Dear Lord, you really are hopeless all the time," Quinn responded, pinching the bridge of her nose with her fingers. "Seriously, what are you, a Martian?"
"A Malfoy, actually."
Quinn shook her head. "Whatever. Anyway, Rachel, what were you saying?"
Happy to have the focus back on her (the brunette was beginning to pout) Rachel spouted off at breakneck speed. "I was just saying before I was so rude interrupted that I actually heard Draco sing and he is quite fantastic - not nearly on the level as Blaine or myself or even Finn by any means, but he's not terrible and he's at least better than Mike Chang. I just figured he could help carry harmonies or now that Sam has left us, he could carry some of the tunes that he used to excel at. I think they sound rather similar really, so maybe we could pair you two up with a duet like we did before because that worked out really well and then you wouldn't have to be fighting, you'd be getting a part and we really need members, Quinn, if we ever want to get New Directions off the bottom of the social totem pole."
"And how is it that in the five minutes it took you to hunt him down in the lunch room, you heard him sing?" Quinn asked, rather surprised to hear this information.
"I passed by the choir room. Apparently he had to take an elective and so they stuck him in there, so I heard him singing when they were trying to figure out which section to put him in and I automatically thought of New Directions. His voice is quite lovely. It was why I tried to track him down in the first place."
"Has anyone ever told you what a world class creep you are?" Rachel seemed rather hurt by this and Quinn sighed. "If I tell you that I'll sit him down and at least talk about an audition will you go away? It's sort of embarrassing to be seen with you and you're really ruining my appetite."
The promise of someone actually talking to Draco, though, seemed to appeal to Rachel's better nature and the tiny brunette scampered off, but not before hugging Quinn tightly and muttering, "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" into her hair. Quinn just grimaced and then pulled out the chair next to her. "Drake. Take a seat."
He did. Santana and Brittany immediately went into survey mode, eyes narrowed as they analyzed every feature of the boy. Quinn, who had seen enough when they first met at his locker, simply gave him a smile. "So Draco," she said, but she was interrupted before she could go any further.
"Please call me Drake. It's...It's what I go by. That Rachel girl just went all psycho on my personal file and found out my real name but please. Drake."
Well at least he said please. "Fine. Drake. Rachel says you can sing. And while Glee Club isn't something that sounds very spectacular, I have to say that it is probably one of the best parts of my day." She paused before adding, "Besides, no one in the choir can really sing and it's very annoying to be around tone deaf munchkins all day long. If you want a real elective with talented people, Glee is your best shot."
"It just all sounds rather...gay."
"And so does your accent," Santana interjected, "but you're not dropping that now are you?"
"I think it sounds sexy," Brittany cut in. "Are all ferrets British?"
Draco turned red at this statement and opened his mouth to retort but Quinn cut in before he could offend anyone. Saying something rude to Brittany was a sure way to piss off Santana, and Quinn was not ready to deal with that drama on the first day back. "Look, hotshot," she said, "all we're saying is, at least come and audition to get Rachel off our backs. If you don't like it, you can always leave. No one's ever been forced to be in Glee before."
"Besides, with a name like Draco Malfoy you're going to need all the friends you can get," Santana smirked.
Drake paused, seemed to consider his options, and then said quietly, "If I audition, it doesn't mean I have to like that Rachel girl, right?"
Quinn laughed. "Oh, sweetie," she said, "trust me. It doesn't. Just let me, S, and B take care of you."
The two other girls then moved in closer to him, and though Drake definitely looked uncertain at first, he managed to give them a smile, something that Quinn noticed certainly helped his pointed features soften. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, having this kid around.
To the very least, at competitions they could have him talk so every female judge creamed their panties and automatically gave them first for it. Quinn smiled. It was nice to remain positive.
