Kurt stopped in front of the large, arched, wooden double doors leading into the infamous Hogwarts; a suitcase in each hand, with the rain pounding down on his shoulders. The thestral that brought him to his destination trotting away down the dark, muddy path to the station, perhaps. Kurt heaved a sigh and wondered how he had ended up in this predicament in the first place.
You see, Kurt was not just any old seventeen year old starting his sixth year of schooling; Kurt was a Riddle. Shortly before his grandfather's passing, Lord Voldemort fathered a son; Burt. He was a terrifying man who led the Death Eaters after the death of his father. Burt soon married Elizabeth Malfoy; a nasty woman who got away with just about anything. Ten years into their marriage, they had a son; Kurt. There was no room for love in their hearts, so they focused all their attention on training him in the art of dark magic, of which Kurt appeared to have no interest in.
Home schooling was the only option for Kurt. After the demise of Lord Voldemort, the loyal Death Eaters were forced into hiding once again, afraid to come out of the shadows due to harsh Ministry of Magic laws that meant immediate death for any suspected follower of You-Know-Who. This very law was the cause of Burt and Elizabeth's hiding. Sixteen year old Kurt woke up one morning to find his parents disappeared and Aurors pulling apart every nook and cranny of his large, empty mansion. He later concluded that his parents had run, after a tip-off from a source, leaving him behind to fend for himself.
This brought Kurt to his current location outside the famous school. Without any loyal family friends to take him in, the teenager was left with nowhere to go but the one place he didn't want to. Kurt knew that as soon as he entered the school, people would stare, and point, and laugh, or perhaps cower in fear. Not that he minded the latter so much, but there was only so much staring he could take. With another heavy sigh, Kurt pushed the heavy door open, and stepped into the castle.
Meanwhile, Blaine was settling himself into his dorm room. He had always loved the warmth of Gryffindor tower, with its deep red curtains around the plush four-poster bed. For him, no other house compared. Behind him, his Gryffindor friends Wes, David, Nick and Jeff threw pillows at each other and attempted to shout louder than the other about their summer holiday. Blaine was too caught up in his thoughts to participate. This was his sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy, a place he had wholeheartedly accepted as his home. Of course, he still had his parents, whom he loved very much. His mother, a nurse at St. Mungo's, and his father an Auror, just his his grandfather; the famous Harry Potter. Blaine was never that phased by being a Potter; the stares that often followed him around got to him, but he was mostly proud of having such an amazing heritage and history to his family. His favourite part of the year was going home every Christmas to his family's warm embrace and taking their annual family picture which would grace the front page of the Daily Prophet every year. Blaine Potter really did have it good.
Blaine knew this year was going to be good. He was Gryffindor's hall monitor, a shoe-in for house captain next year, and seeker of the Gryffindor quidditch team. Suddenly, a loud rumble was heard from Blaine; his stomach. With a teasing laugh from his dorm mates, they all headed down to the great hall, excited to see the new batch of first years, but mostly anticipating the succulent food the house elves were sure to produce.