Chapter One
Despite only being ten years old, Kurt Hummel was a fairly realistic person. He knew that there was no such thing as the Boogie Man, that whenever he lost a tooth it was his Dad who slipped a five dollar bill under his pillow and not a Tooth Fairy. Kurt knew there was no such thing as Santa Claus, or the Easter Bunny, or even the Sandman. Kurt was even starting to doubt that Pastor was telling the truth during Sunday School. No, Kurt did not believe in many things, but that is not to say he didn't use to.
Kurt had once believed in magic.
Now, Kurt's belief in magic had first been introduced to him when he was only about five years old. His mother had read to him every night growing up, her beautiful voice retelling the stories she had grown up hearing as a girl. She had read to Kurt out of her favorite books, many of them worn along the edges and the spines broken from so much use over the years. Most of the stories had to do with witches and wizards and all kinds of other magical creatures, like giants and trolls and elves. Kurt's young mind was quickly filled with ideas of dragons and enchantments and heroic adventure. He had loved his mother's stories, almost as much as he loved his mother.
Which was why he had felt double the heartbreak when she had grown ill, ill to the point where she couldn't get out of bed in the morning, let alone stay up and read to Kurt every night. Kurt's sad, young eyes had watched as his mother slowly faded away. He had hoped that somehow, someway, magic would make his mother well again. All too soon, though, she was gone and with her went Kurt's belief in magic.
For a long while, Kurt went through life without much of a belief in anything. His father was perhaps the one thing Kurt did believe in, and it was not just because his father was probably the World's Greatest Dad (Burt Hummel had the coffee mug to prove it). It was because no matter how different Kurt appeared to be, Burt was always proud of his son. When Kurt had decided to take a gymnastics class instead of going off to football camp, like all the other boys, Burt had gone and cheered on his son at every practice. On Friday nights, when Kurt picked out The Little Mermaid instead of Transformers for the family video, Burt Hummel never objected and simply asked Kurt if he wanted butter on the popcorn. When Kurt started becoming fascinated in musicals, his father went out and got him the soundtrack from Wicked and didn't blink an eye as his son sang along to it, dancing away in the kitchen, his feet practically floating off the ground.
Yes, Burt was a phenomenal father. But like any father, it was his job to protect his family—to protect his son from people who were not quite as loving as Burt Hummel.
It all started on a Saturday morning.
"Kiddo, mail's here," Burt called down the stairs, smiling to himself when he heard his son's sleep-muffled voice call back something that sounding like, "Okay." Burt pulled out a chair and sat himself down in the kitchen, flipping absentmindedly through the various envelopes. Most were ads, of course, and a couple of bills Burt knew were coming. A postcard from his cousin caught Burt's eye, but the small envelope behind it looked even more interesting. That was because it wasn't addressed to himself, but to his son.
Mr. K. Hummel
The Cleanest Bedroom
23rd Street
Lima, Ohio
Burt frowned. No one had ever sent Kurt mail before. Especially not people who knew his son had the cleanest room in the whole house. What was going on? Had Kurt entered some contest and not told Burt about it? That didn't sound like his son. Maybe it was just a joke.
The address was hand written in bright-emerald colored ink and the envelope was void of any stamps.
"Good morning," a bright voice interrupted Burt's thoughts. He looked up and saw Kurt standing in front of him, already dressed and his hair combed neatly. "Anything good?"
"Err… what?" Burt Hummel asked, his mind torn between his son and the envelope.
"The mail? Anything good?" Kurt brushed past and opened the fridge, retrieving the orange juice.
Burt paused. He eyed the letter once more, turning it over a couple of times and then he heaved a giant sigh. He didn't want to be that father.
"Err… well, a letter came for you."
Kurt's eyes widened, his hands slipping and nearly dropping the juice carton. He quickly set it onto the counter.
"For me?" Kurt asked, eyebrows raised.
"It's your name on it, kiddo. You didn't enter into any contests or anything, did you?" Burt asked sternly, holding out the letter for Kurt.
"No," Kurt confessed, delicately grasping the letter in his hands, but holding it far away from himself, as if it might suddenly burst into flames. "I—I don't know what it is."
Burt motioned with his hands, "Well, open it."
Kurt's mouth fell open. "Open it?"
"Yeah, kiddo, that's what you do when you get mail. You open it."
Smiling slightly, Kurt gently broke the seal that held the letter together and pulled out the paper inside of it. Unfolding it, he read:
HOGWARTS SCHOOL
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Headmaster: Iqbal Figgins
(Order of Merlin, Second Class, Chf. Vampire Slayer,
Supreme Mugwump, International Cofed. Of Wizards)
Dear Mr. Hummel,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.
Yours sincerely,
Sue Sylvester,
Deputy Headmistress
Kurt read the letter through twice, his eyes narrowing with each line. A thousand questions began to tumble around in his brain. Finally, he looked up at his dad who was frowning at Kurt, his face shadowed with concern.
"What's Hogwarts?" Kurt asked his dad, his voice echoing throughout their small kitchen.
The clock on the wall ticked away and the coffee pot on the counter gurgled and steamed. Two slices of toast popped out of the toaster oven, slightly burnt.
Burt stood up and clapped his son on the shoulder. "Beats me, kiddo. Just toss it in the trash. Probably some joke by the neighborhood kids. I'll ask Mrs. Hitchens if she got anything funny in her mail too."
Kurt sighed. He then gave his dad a small smile and nodded.
And with that the Hummels went about their Saturday morning routine, just as they always had. Kurt's letter, however, was not crumpled up and thrown away in the trash, as Burt had suggested. It was stowed safely away under Kurt's pillow and it only left its hiding place at night, after Kurt was sure his dad had gone to bed. Only then did he pull it out and read it through using the flashlight by his bedside.
Hogwarts. Just where had Kurt heard that name before?
Worth continuing? It's not much right now, but I think it'll really improve as it goes. I know there are many Harry Potter/Glee crossovers, but I really wanted to give it a try. Let me know what you think. Also being posted at Livejournal.