Author's Note: Ok. So, this is my first proper attempt at a multi-chapter story. I've never been that good at writing, as my former literature teachers will tell you, so bear with me. There may be (probably will be) some (a lot of) swearing and insults in this fanfic, but that's the worst it will get. I probably won't be able to update as oten as I'd like to because A Levels are frustratingly hard and I have some exams coming up soon. So.. I'll stop babbling now because I'm boring you, and I'm sure this story will do enough of that anyway... Oh, disclaimer, right.. I don't own any characters from Glee (although I really would like to) because they belong to RIB and Fox and I do not own any Harry Potter characters or any HP related things (although I really really would like to) because they belong to J K Rowling... I am now going to stop and let you read the story because I'm sure that if I carry on babbling, the author's note will be longer than the story itself. So, enjoy. If you can.
Smoke billowed out from the scarlet steam engine, onto the platform, where masses of families, of both muggle and magical blood, were saying their final goodbyes to the soon-to-be first year students of Hogwarts: School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Amongst the chattering crowd stood one of the several muggle families: the Andersons.
The relatively normal family had been somewhat baffled at the unexpected letter that arrived, by owl, a mere three months ago, informing them that their eleven year old son was in fact a wizard and had been offered a place at Hogwarts. After dismissing the first letter as a practical joke, thirty more letters appeared (each delivered by owl) on their front door step, over the following week, which led the Andersons to conclude that it wasn't the childish prank that they'd initially believed it to be, for no normal, non-magical person owns thirty pet owls.
So, here they stood, eyes wide as saucers, as they took in the scene around them, until a loud whistle sounded, signalling that the train would soon be departing and effectively snapping Mr and Mrs Anderson out of their trance.
"Has he got everything? His uniform? His wand? His... WHERE'S HIS OWL?" Mrs Anderson squealed as she spun frantically searching for her son's owl.
Mr Anderson chuckled, "He's right here, dear," he stepped sideways to reveal a slightly rusty, bronze cage containing a rather handsome barn owl, "stop panicking. Everything is fine." Mr Anderson pulled his wife into a soothing hug and she exhaled in a long sigh.
During his mother's panicking, the young Blaine Anderson remained oblivious to the crowd around him, instead staring in awe at the impressive, scarlet train that stood before him. 'The Hogwarts Express' it read on the front, in gold lettering.
Hogwarts. Because that's where I'm going now. Because I'm a wizard. Because I'm... magical?
He pondered for a moment. He didn't feel magical. In fact, he didn't feel any different than he had the day before he found out that he was a wizard. He wasn't special, although his mother begged to differ, he was just a normal, slightly dorky boy with a messy haircut who had somehow, unknowingly, been a wizard his whole life and was about to attend a school of magic, and... ok, so maybe he was a bit special, but he still didn't feel any different.
Blaine was broken out of his reverie by another whistle sounding from the train, and a voice echoed onto the platform around him: "Ten minutes till departure."
Barely containing his excitement, Blaine rushed back to his parents, only to collide with a slightly taller body, effectively knocking himself and the other person to the soggy ground. This resulted in a shrill scream that did not come from Blaine: "MY ARMARNI JACKET!"
Kurt Hummel strutted through the mist like he owned the platform. Both of his hands were placed firmly on his waist, and he sashayed up to the ancient, rusting train. The moulding sign on the front revealed, in dull, gold lettering, that this was 'The Hogwarts Express'.
"Kurt?" he heard his father call over the buzz of the crowd around them, "Where are you? Kurt?"
"I'm over here! I'm coming "Kurt rolled his glaze eyes and let out a long sigh as he walked up to his panicking father who was currently struggling with Kurt's our suitcases. Kurt's mother had died four years earlier, leaving Burt Hummel, Kurt's father, to raise the slightly-high-maintenance Kurt on his own.
The Hummels, unlike the Andersons, were not surprised in the slightest at the letter that they had received from Hogwarts: School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. On the contrary, they were expecting the letter, because, also unlike the Andersons, the Hummels were of magical blood. They were one of the few remaining pure blood families left in the wizarding world, as many witches and wizards tended to marry muggles much more frequently since the death of the dark lord Voldemort and many of his followers.
Although Burt had nothing against muggles, his son believed that 'mudbloods' were below pure-blooded wizard, making himself superior to nearly every person he met. This resulted in him making many enemies at an early age.
However, Kurt Hummel, though slightly ignorant, was not a mean person. He loved his father dearly, just as he had loved his mother, but losing someone so close to him so early in life had made him slightly bitter, ensuing in a pessimistic view on life.
The train whistled and a voice was projected over the babble of the families on the platform: "Ten minutes till departure." Kurt turned to say a final goodbye to his father when his scarf was whisked from around his neck by a sudden gust of wind.
"MY SCARF! Get back here!" He yelled at the cashmere accessory, before he raced off across the platform after it, only to be knocked to the ground moments later. His eyes widened as he realised what he was sitting in. A puddle. Whilst wearing his new Armani Jacket. Which was now wet. "MY ARMANI JACKET!" Kurt wailed, jumping up and clutching at the large, wet stain on the bottom of his coat and surveying the damage. His eyes filled with rage and he whipped around to face his attacker, who was still sitting on the ground, blinking in confusion.
"HOW DARE YOU! DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH THIS COST? OF COURSE YOU PROBABLY WOULDN'T, I MEAN, LOOK AT YOU! IS THAT EVEN MEANT TO BE WORN? YOU LOOK LIKE YOU'VE BEEN DRESSED BY A BLIND SUNDAY SCHOOL TEACHER! HELLO? ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME?"
Blaine rubbed his eyes in confusion as he realised that the high pitched ranting had now stopped, and he looked up, his eyes meeting another pair that were a cold, icy blue. "Me?" he asked, pointing towards himself.
"No, I'm talking to that hippogriff over there... OF COURSE I'M TALKING TO YOU! YOU'RE THE ONE WHO PUSHED ME INTO THAT PUDDLE..."
Blaine began to feel a bubble of anger building up inside him, until... "I DID NOT PUSH YOU INTO THE PUDDLE! I WAS WALKING BACK TO MY PARENTS WHEN YOU PUSHED ME INTO THE PUDDLE"
"YOU LIAR! I DIDN'T EVEN TOUCH YOU! YOU PUSHED ME! YOU STUPID MUDBLO..."
But Kurt didn't chance to finish his insult, as he was tackled to the ground by Blaine.
"YEAH? WELL I'M PUSHING YOU NOW!" Blaine screamed.
"GET OFF ME YOU FAT BLAST ENDED SKREWT!" Kurt yelled, as he rolled them over so he was on top of Blaine, pushing his head back into the puddle so that his dark, curly hair was now drenched.
Blaine rolled them back over so that he was now on top, and returned Kurt the favour of soaking his once perfectly coiffed hair in the muddy puddle whilst shouting: "YOU GET OFF ME, YOU STUCK UP PIG!"
By now, the rather large crowd that had gathered around the two boys parted from both sides as Mr and Mrs Anderson, and Mr Hummel pushed their way into the centre to separate them.
"BLAINE ANDERSON! YOU GET OFF THAT BOY RIGHT THIS MINUTE" Mrs Anderson screeched as she grabbed her sons arm and pulled him from the fight, just as Burt Hummel grabbed Kurt and yelled: "KURT! GET OFF HIM RIGHT NOW!"
The two boys stood facing each other, sodden and panting, neither breaking eye contact, as the crowd dispersed. Mrs Anderson's face was bright red as she tried to stutter out an apology to Burt Hummel. Mr Anderson, sensing her embarrassment, stepped forward, "I'm so, so sorry about this. Blaine is usually very well mannered, and I..I don't know what came over him"
Burt waved off the apology, "There's no need to apologise. I'm sorry about Kurt. He doesn't normally get into fights, but..."
"Shall we just agree to saying that 'they're as bad as each other'?" Mr Anderson asked, smirking slightly.
Burt chuckled, "Yes, I think that's best," he held out his hand, "Burt. Burt Hummel."
Mr Anderson shook Burt's outstretched hand, "Michael Anderson, and this is my wife, Anne."
"Hello", Mrs Anderson's face had returned to its normal colour and she smiled softly at Burt. Both sets of parents had soon ended up in a friendly conversation, discussing and predicting how their sons' first year at Hogwarts would go, whilst Kurt and Blaine's staring, or rather glaring, match continued.
The train whistled once more as the students boarded the train and their families waved them off. Blaine leaned out of the window of a compartment and waved to his parents, and at the same time, Kurt leaned out of the window of a different compartment to wave goodbye to his dad. Both boys turned and caught each other's eye, their smiles quickly fading from their faces as the glared angrily. It was at this moment that Kurt and Blaine became the best of enemies.
If you've reached this note then you must have read this chapter, so...THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU! Finally, there is a button below this note saying 'review' so...you know... if you want to...PLEASE! Oh, and feel free to add me on Tumblr if you want: ConnieEmelineSypher