don't despair / you can't give up
they'll hunt us down / they'll catch us up
we can't stop now / we won't stop now
can't stop now; one night only
The flank of Aurors pace around, wands clenched tightly in their fists, waiting for an owl, a Patronus, someone in the fireplace- anything. Emotions run high through the group, felt even in the air: fear, anxiety, regret, guilt.
A tall, gangly wizard turns to another, both with worry in their expressions. "No one else is missing, right?"
"Right," the other wizard replies flatly.
They turn away from each other and continue to pace.
A few minutes pass before a door at the end of the hall opens, and a tall wizard with messy, dark hair walks in. His red robes swish around him as he comes to halt, the eyes behind his round glasses darting frantically around at his employees.
"What's going on?" he asks. "What happened?"
"Mr. Potter," someone speaks up. "Mr. Potter- er.. someone was captured."
"We believe they're being held hostage," someone else adds, stepping forward.
"Who?" Harry asks.
"Blaine Anderson."
.
"Anderson! Close in!"
Blaine huffs, shooting another spell. He moves closer to Puckerman, allowing them to cover more ground back-to-back.
"I've got it, I've got it," he mutters dryly. "Relax, Puckerman." He flicks his wand, aiming a silent Body-Bind Curse and takes one down. He smirks to himself, glancing quickly at Puck.
"Just making sure you weren't planning to bail on me," Puck snaps, smiling slyly.
Blaine chuckles. "Wouldn't dream of it."
The two of them fall silent, only grunting as they shuffle together, shooting hexes and curses and grunting in concentration. Ten Death Eaters still battle them, closing in.
"Fuck," Puck hisses under his breath. "Where's the damn back up?"
Blaine doesn't reply, keeping his focus on the intense duel. He sends a Stunning Spell right at a crowd of three, nailing one. Behind him, Puck hits a Death Eater with a Leg-Locking Jinx, sending him to the ground.
"Nice one!" Blaine shouts, swishing his wand sharply through the air a few more times.
They're down to five Death Eaters when Puck goes down. What looks like a Stunning Spell hits him square in the chest.
Blaine curses loudly and then proceeds to fire an array of jinxes at his opponents. A spell grazes one, disabling him, and Blaine is able to finish him off in a matter of seconds.
He's down to two when the Auror backup finally arrives. He catches one, and then turns to the new Aurors. He takes his eyes off of the last Death Eater for one second to shout, "Puckerman's down! Help him, will you?"
And that's his mistake.
Something hits him full force and he's thrown backward. His vision blacks out as something grips him roughly and drags him away.
.
He wakes up in a dark, damp room. The only dim light comes from a half a square foot window ten feet up the wall. Hard, cold stone is underneath him.
Slowly, he rolls over, pushing himself up carefully. A steady pounding sensation reverberates through his skull. His stomach churns and his limbs ache. He moans, raising a hand to rub his temple.
Peering around with his eyes squinted, he sees that he's in some sort of cell. Thick, metal bars prevent him from escaping. There's no bed, but at the other end there's a toilet and a sink- cracked, dirty, and rusty.
Grudgingly, memories come back to Blaine. He remembers the Auror mission, losing Puck, the Death Eaters capturing him. He foolishly searches his robes for his wand, only to realize it had probably been confiscated.
Sighing, he leans back against the wall. He closes his eyes, resting his cheek against the cool stone.
"Finally awake, are you?"
Blaine's eyes snap open.
He recognizes the voice.
Just beyond the metal bars enclosing him, a silhouette stands, watching him.
"Yeah. Yeah, I am," Blaine replies. He stands up quickly- too quickly. His head spins and his stomach lurches. He wraps his arms around his torso, squeezing his eyes closed and groaning.
"Be careful, Mudblood," the voice chuckles darkly. "Can't be too much use to us if you're ill. Then we'll have to simply dispose of you."
Blaine brushes off the threat because as the person turns to leave, his face catches the light just slightly.
Kurt Hummel.
.
Blaine lies on the stone floor, shivering severely, his mind running wild. This entire situation feels utterly overwhelming to him right now.
Kurt.
Kurt Hummel.
The sweet, courageous, humble Gryffindor from his youth is now a Death Eater. It's nearly impossible for him to wrap his head around it. Kurt was always so pure, honest, and kind, and Blaine doesn't understand how his personality could end up so backward.
The other thing that confuses him is the fact that he's being held hostage. What exactly is so special about him? To what use could he be put to? He's not one of the experienced Aurors, and he's a Muggle-born for Merlin's sake.
Huffing, Blaine slowly stands up, fighting the dizziness. Crossing his arms tightly over his chest, he begins pacing, wondering what the hell he's going to do.
He's wandless, weak, and sick- he can't exactly put up a fight. There's hardly a thing he can do against a band of Dark wizards by himself anyway.
Does anyone even know he's missing? Do they believe he's already dead or do they have faith? Are they going to even try searching for him? Are they looking now? Will they find him?
He shakes his head and stops pacing. Shivering again, he sinks back down to the ground. The cold seeps into his bones, and he feels feverish. He closes his eyes, praying for sleep.
.
It's some time later when Blaine finally falls asleep, huddled on the floor. When he's settled into peaceful unconsciousness, someone shakes him awake roughly.
It's Kurt, his expression hard and annoyed.
"Get up, you useless Muggle."
He pulls Blaine up by his arm, and then with a simple spell, ties his hands together behind his back. Blaine doesn't protest; what feels like electric currents are buzzing around his wrists. Kurt gives him a shove forward and he stumbles out of his cell.
He's dragged down the dark, dank hallway, his heart thumping. He can hear the moans of others, their whispered, raspy pleas for help. He suspects each and every prisoner is a Muggle-born.
They go far through the winding halls until a flood of sunlight reaches Blaine's aching eyes and they're standing in a room full older Death Eaters.
"I've got him," Kurt says and he just about throws Blaine away from his grip.
"First things first," says a tall, slim wizard Blaine recognizes as Pearson- one of the top Death Eaters, "he'll need new attire. Hey- someone- someone strip him of his Auror robes and get him in the mandatory black ones."
A bulky wizard to Blaine's left grabs his arm and practically carries him to a door at the other end of the large hall. Kurt follows after them, haughty and confident. Blaine looks at him, a pleading look on his face, but Kurt averts his eyes.
They're squeezed into a small room that seems to resemble a broom cupboard. Blaine's robes are torn from his body, ripped and shredded. The muscled wizard hands Blaine a pile of black robes and instructs him to put them on. Kurt lifts the spell from his wrists for only a minute while Blaine throws the robes on as fast as he can.
He hands out his wrists for Kurt, but this time as he taps his wand against Blaine's arm, it's not handcuffs that wrap around his wrists, but what look like glowing bracelets. He assumes they're just as dangerous.
"Now come on," Kurt mutters in a low voice. "It's time for work."
He points his wand to the small of Blaine's back, making him walk forward at a quick pace. Kurt leads him back down the steps into the dark basement.
"Where are you taking me?" Blaine asks.
Kurt shoves the tip of his wand into Blaine's back, and Blaine does his best not to flinch. "Do not speak unless you are spoken to," Kurt snaps. "But to answer your question- I'm taking you to do the Muggle work you're supposed to do."
Down a few more dizzying cases of stairs, and they enter a dimly-lit room. The smell of sweat and dirt hangs thickly in the air. All around them, Muggle-borns scrub. The floor, the walls, robes.
"We could use magic," Kurt says, a sickening smirk forming on his face. "But why would we do the dirty work ourselves when he have Muggles to do the work they deserve to do. It's filth like you who spend years taking advantage of magic that disgrace us. Time for your payback."
He pokes his wand into Blaine's back once more. "You'll be working in the side rooms- making them fit for wizards' living."
Blaine hurries for them, silent. These rooms are much darker, much smaller, much more cramped. Ten others scrub hard through the grime and muck, their hands turning raw, faces dripping with sweat.
Kurt hands Blaine a bucket of soapy water and a rag.
"Get started," he orders, still grinning that awful smile.
.
Blaine wolfs down his piece of bread at lunch, Kurt staring down at him the whole time. He doesn't look forward to being back down in the basement, but as he gets up and makes to return, Kurt grabs his arm.
"Oh, no, no, no," he says. "You won't be returning down there."
There's a fleeting sense of relief before Blaine realizes that he'll most likely be doing something worse.
"Why not?" he asks.
Something sharp slaps him across the face, and he almost falls backward.
"What did I say about speaking out of turn?" Kurt asks angrily.
Blaine shuts his mouth, swallowing hard.
Kurt points his wand at him again. "Now come on- you're going to attend a meeting with our interrogators."
Blaine's heart leaps to his throat, pounding fiercely. Interrogators? He has a feeling this is going to be very horrible, indeed.
Kurt leads him to a bright room, bay windows along the fair wall, a long table resting in the middle of the floor. Three masked Death Eaters sit on the other side from them. Blaine takes a deep breath, moving forward. Kurt shoves him into a chair and then proceeds to stand behind him, arms crossed.
"You are Blaine Anderson, correct?" asks the Death Eater on the far right.
"Y-yes," he stammers.
"Good. Then you must proceed to answer these questions honestly- or face the consequences."
Blaine nods, his throat thick.
"And you work under the employment of Harry Potter?"
"Yes," Blaine says quietly.
"Tell me- does he know where this location is?"
"No- I- I don't think so."
"You don't think so?" the Death Eater asks warningly. "Yes or no."
"I don't know," Blaine says honestly.
"Crucio."
White-hot knives pierce Blaine's skin and he writhes in agony in his seat. He breathes heavily as the pain subsides, slouching in the chair.
"Is Mr. Potter fond of you, Mr. Anderson?"
"I- I don't kn- I would say no- not really."
He prepares for another curse, but it doesn't come.
"Are you in any communication with him, Mr. Anderson?"
"No."
"Liar," the Death Eater says sharply.
"Crucio."
Blaine's limbs flare with pain, and his horrifying screams echo around the room. He slumps from his seat, falling to the floor.
The questioning goes on for hours, and each time the Death Eaters dislike an answer he gives them, honest or not, he is tortured.
Kurt doesn't bat an eyelash.
.
Blaine is allowed back to his cell much later that night. His whole body throbs with aches from the Cruciatus Curse. The room spins violently as one of the other Death Eaters shoves him into his room.
He doesn't know how long he lies there on the floor, fighting the incredible dizziness and nausea, but finally he pushes himself up and lurches forward. He gets his head over the toilet bowl just in time to throw up into it. Moaning, he clutches his stomach. The burning, bubbling sensation coats his throat again and he leans forward to vomit once more.
"Tsk, tsk."
Blaine turns his head, hands still gripping tightly to the cool porcelain.
Kurt stands, hips cocked, his fingers wrapped around one of the metal bars.
"Remember what I said about being ill." His smirk is sarcastic, smug.
"It's not like I can help it!" Blaine snaps in a raspy voice, breathing heavily. "Your stupid colleagues tortured me. And I wasn't very strong or healthy to begin with." He swallows hard, attempting to tame the queasiness, and then struggles to stand up.
"That's not my problem," Kurt says dryly. "It is simply my job to watch over you and report if something happens." He glares at Blaine for a moment, arms crossed over his chest.
Blaine is too exhausted to be angry, so he takes another approach. "Kurt, what happened to you?"
That catches him off-guard. Kurt stiffens, his eyes narrowing. "What do you mean?" he asks, trying to stay calm.
Blaine feels himself take a small step closer to him, confidence rising within. "You were such a good kid, Kurt- destined for so much. What on earth could've made you throw all that away and become . . . this?"
Kurt's hand slips from the bar, and his eyes flash with suspicion and anger. "This?" he asks. "You say it like it's a bad thing."
Blaine allows a small smirk to from on his lips. "Being a coward isn't a good thing."
Kurt's nostrils flare and he presses his lips together. "I'm not a coward! And how dare you speak to me like that- filthy Mudblood!"
Blaine lets the harsh name roll off of him. He takes a few steps closer to Kurt, slow and subtle. "See that's what I'm talking about," he starts. "Seven years ago- that word would've never left your lips. Seven years ago you were going to do inspirational things. You don't want to admit it, but your life's gone down the drain."
Kurt is silent for a moment, fuming. His voice is deadly quiet when he opens his mouth. "I am powerful. That's more important than inspirational. No one would've listened to me before anyway. Not witches like me." He falters for a fraction of a second. "Now I'm strong. I'm fearless. And I do believe I have your life in my hands, so you better shut the fuck up before you get me really angry."
Blaine realizes just how close he'd gotten to Kurt when the wizard turns away and he grips the bar Kurt had been holding. A sharp shock runs through his arm and he gasps. Kurt looks back, smirking, as Blaine staggers backward.
.
The next morning, a new wizard is guarding his cell.
.
"You're ignoring me," Blaine hisses quietly as he scrubs the dirty walls.
Kurt turns, startled. "What are you talking about, filth?"
"What- you can't handle that what I said is true?" He raises his eyebrows, waiting expectantly.
Kurt grinds his teeth together. "I think you need a refresher." He points his wand at Blaine. "Imperio."
.
Blaine attends another round of questioning that night. He loses track of the number of "Crucio!"s he hears after seven.
Each time he screams, he sees Kurt twitch the slightest bit from the corner of his eye, but the Death Eater says nothing, not caring enough to even suggest that maybe Blaine truly doesn't know anything.
As he's on all fours, desperately trying to get up, he looks to Kurt. "You know, you don't have to be ashamed of having emotions."
Kurt's jaw is set and he holds his head up higher, refusing to look weak.
.
Two nights later, he returns to his cell, collapsing to the ground to find a folded blanket and a cup of steaming potion for his stomachache. His heart does a little twinge as he downs the potion and then falls asleep wrapped in the itchy but warm blanket.
.
As Kurt walks behind him the next morning, observing everyone's work, he turns subtly and says in an undertone, "Thank you."
Kurt stops in his tracks. "For what?" he asks in a snappy tone.
"I know it was you," Blaine continues. "The blanket, the potion."
Kurt lunges forward and grabs Blaine by the hair on the back of his head. When he gets the startled reaction he was looking for, he releases him. "Merlin! Don't fucking talk about it here," he hisses.
"I- " Blaine tries to cut in, but Kurt grips his hair again.
"You just better keep your mouth shut if you want anymore."
He steps back, breathing heavily.
Blaine looks at him, nothing but sincerity in his eyes. "I wouldn't rat you out anyway."
.
That night, after more questioning, another bottle of potion is waiting for him.
.
Kurt still avoids him somewhat, but his presence is around.
And it's not the presence of the wizard he first met in his cell, but the boy he knew at a young age.
.
Blaine closes his eyes tightly, swallowing hard. He shudders violently, hands slipping on the smooth porcelain. He coughs once and then leans forward, throwing up into the toilet. The room spins around him and he feels alarmingly delirious. Sweat beads his face, and he shivers again.
His stomach lurches and he groans, tired of being sick. But bile rises in his throat again and he heaves.
Suddenly, gentle hands rub his back, and cool fingers brush the curly locks from his burning forehead. Someone murmurs soothing words in his ear while he continues to vomit.
Breathing labored, eyes streaming, Blaine leans back, his stomach finally somewhat calm for a moment. Another cup of potion is handed to him, and grimacing, he forces it down.
"It's getting worse, isn't it?" Kurt asks softly.
Blaine nods, unable to speak.
Kurt continues to rub relaxing circles on his back until the nausea begins to subside. "How are you feeling?" he asks.
"Awful," Blaine croaks. "Better- but awful."
Kurt nods awkwardly, gripping Blaine's arm. "Well- just . . . get some rest." He pats Blaine's arm and stands up, heading for the gate.
"I'll be coming to get you in the morning," he says before leaving.
.
Blaine works through the next morning, struggling to keep his energy up. By lunch, he's exhausted and weak. He has no appetite, almost feeling queasy already.
The work, questionings, and lack of sleep are starting to take their toll on him. The prospect of going through another round of interrogation is daunting. He doesn't know if he'll have enough strength.
"Eat."
Blaine turns to find Kurt standing above him, a look of stifled concern on his face.
"I can't," Blaine mumbles, resting a hand on his stomach. "I'll throw it up."
"You're not going to questioning today, you know," Kurt says in a low voice.
Blaine looks confused for a moment until Kurt grins at him.
He shovels food into his mouth.
.
"What am I doing?" Blaine asks, following after Kurt.
Kurt is in business mode, walking swiftly and not looking back. He sounds almost irritated when he answers.
"You're keeping guard with me," he clarifies. "You'll get your wand back while doing so. Now," he stops and turns around to face Blaine. "I trust you enough to not try and escape- you can't Apparate within these boundaries by the way. But if you do try and pull something, you should know I won't hesitate to use the Imperius Curse."
Blaine assures him he won't, but it's not fear that stops him.
It's feelings for Kurt.
.
That night, Blaine returns to his damp and dim cell for what feels like the thousandth time, but suddenly it doesn't feel so dark anymore.
He lowers himself down onto his worn blanket- the one that smells like Kurt. He wraps it around him and closes his eyes for a few seconds before they snap right open. Usually he's exhausted at night. After being sick a few times, he would crawl slowly over to his blanket and collapse onto it, falling asleep almost immediately.
But tonight it's different.
He doesn't feel sick in the slightest. He isn't tired. His brain is whirring with too many thoughts- thoughts that keep him awake and wondering. Thoughts that keep him sane in this horrible, depressing place.
Thoughts about Kurt.
Blaine doesn't know when it started, when the feelings of pity and disappointment turned to love, but he can't stop them now.
.
Blaine leans against the wall, twirling his wand nervously in his hand. Kurt looks back at him, squinting against the bright sunlight.
"Kurt," Blaine starts quietly. "Why- why are you helping me?"
The question catches Kurt off-guard and he hesitates, taking an awkward step closer to Blaine. He opens his mouth to speak, but it isn't until the third try that he gets a word out, "Because . . . you- you were right," he says finally.
"About what?" Blaine asks.
"I am a coward," Kurt replies, sighing. "I joined the Death Eaters because they accepted me when society wouldn't. I thought I found my place here- I'm good at what we do- but . . . it just doesn't feel right."
Blaine stares at him for a moment, shocked and speechless.
"I- I don't- "
Kurt movies forward, dropping his wand, and Blaine follows suit. And before either of them know what's happening, their lips meet, hands grabbing hair and it's like a huge weight has been relieved from their shoulders.
.
Later, they find themselves in a broom cupboard, shedding clothes and holding tightly to each other, never wishing to let go.
The make love, and it's slow and awkward, because neither of them really knows what they're doing and they're afraid they'll get caught any second. Hands grip fiercely and breath is sharp and uneven. Sweat clings to naked skin, heat sizzling between them.
And it feels like something from a movie- the forbidden love; the beautiful catastrophe; the heartwarming cliché.
.
But of course, this is all just a lie.
.
Blaine realizes that when he's once again perched over the toilet.
.
He goes right up to Kurt at lunch, fury coursing through his veins.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" he demands.
Kurt whips around, the anger practically rolling off of him. Blaine expects him to pull out his wand but he doesn't even move.
"Excuse me?" he asks.
"What's your problem?" Blaine hisses. "If I did something wrong you could just let me know instead of letting me suffer through those goddamn Unforgivable Curses."
"What are you talking about, Blaine?" he asks as calmly as he can.
"You- you abandoned me," Blaine says incredulously. "What about the other day? What about these past two weeks? I thought you changed."
"Well, you thought wrong, didn't you?" Kurt replies acidly. He moves closer, staring straight into Blaine's eyes. "Now listen to me. The other night was a mistake. A huge fucking mistake. There's nothing between us- and you better realize that soon."
He turns swiftly on his heel, leaving Blaine behind him.
.
And when Blaine goes through interrogation that evening, the Cruciatus Curse barely fazes him.
Nothing can hurt worse than his broken heart.
.
The days stretch on, and Blaine has last all hope of escape. All hope of the Aurors finding him. All hope of Kurt helping him anymore. All hope in anything. Everyone probably believes his dead.
And he might as well be.
.
It's a week later, and Blaine lies in his cell. He has no strength or energy whatsoever. He hasn't been eating, he hasn't been sleeping. The work, the interrogations, the shattered feeling inside of him have become too much.
He hears a shuffling sound and looks up slowly, but nothing is there.
Sighing, he rolls over, ready for another sleepless night.
.
Blaine drags himself to the interrogation room, a Death Eater that's not Kurt gripping his arm as he walks. His head aches, his eyelids feel heavy, and his chest is tight. He wonders if this'll be the last time he's questioned.
It's always the same things, over and over, but each time the Death Eaters hope they can get something new out of him.
He's not strong enough to fight them anymore.
They reach the door to find it ajar- not closed like it usually is. Shouting voices ring out of the room, and out of them, Blaine recognizes Kurt's.
"But you can't!"
"Why not, Hummel? He's not helping us anymore. He's been causing more trouble than he's worth." The voice is hard, forceful.
"He hasn't been doing a thing," Kurt protests. "He's been extremely helpful to me."
"Why are you contradicting me?" The voice starts to sound angry, deadly.
"I think I could convert him to one of us," Kurt replies, his voice shaking slightly.
"You know that's a lie as much as I do. It's settled, Hummel. He's to be disposed."
"No."
Kurt's voice is broken, helpless, and it sends warning bells through Blaine's foggy mind.
"Hummel, is there something you want to tell us?"
It's silent for a moment, and Blaine's heart pounds as he waits to hear Kurt's voice.
"Yeah, I- Reducto!"
Behind the door comes a large crashing sound and a few, loud screams. The Death Eater next to Blaine rushes inside, his wand at the ready.
"Stupefy!"
The door wrenches open and Kurt stumbles out, smoke and rubble visible behind him. He grabs Blaine's hand and pulls him through the halls at a run.
"It won't be long until they figure out what I've done. We've got to move."
.
They round a corner into a silent hallway, and Blaine yanks his hand from Kurt's grip.
"Blaine!" he says urgently, whipping around. "We have to get out of here- now!"
"Why?" Blaine asks, crossing his arms. "Why should I go with you?"
Kurt huffs out an angry sigh. "Just trust me, Blaine. I'm trying to protect you. Do you really think I'd destroy that interrogation room, burying my master in debris for no reason? We have to go."
"No," Blaine replies firmly. "How can you just expect me to believe you- to trust you? You left me."
Kurt hangs his head for a moment, sighing again. Looking up, he moves forward, his eyes sparkling with tears. He reaches out and takes Blaine's fingers gently. Blaine freezes, looking intently at Kurt.
"I love you, Blaine," he whispers, frustrated. "There- I said it. I love you."
A ringing silence fills the air. Blaine is stunned, confused, and a bit relieved. He would like to believe Kurt, he really would, but it hardly makes sense. "Then, what-?" Blaine starts.
"Someone was onto us," Kurt explains, a tear running down his cheek. "I don't know exactly what happened- but one of my colleagues kept throwing hints at me. I think he might have seen us kiss." Kurt sniffles, looking away from Blaine for a moment. It's a moment before he looks back. "That's why I bailed on you. I didn't want anyone else getting suspicious. I'm sorry I couldn't tell you- I was trying to protect you."
"Kurt, I-" Blaine starts but cuts himself off, a half-sob leaving his lips.
Kurt plows on, not even noticing that Blaine had been trying to talk. "And now- Pearson just called me to see him, and- and they were planning to get rid of you. I couldn't let them. I couldn't let them do that. You- you've shown me so much. I may not be obvious about it, but you- you've changed me. You're right about absolutely everything, and- and I just- I need you." He cuts off, hiccupping, and Blaine wraps his arm around Kurt's waist, rubbing his back.
"Kurt, I love you too," he whispers. He kisses Kurt on the forehead, tightening his grip on Kurt's hand.
A crashing sound vibrates behind them, and they look to each other, eyes wide. "Run," Kurt whispers. Blaine entwines their fingers, securing their hands and they flee, ready to fight together.
.
They stop just before a door leading outside, breathing heavily and checking behind them. Their fingers are still clung tightly together.
"What . . are we . . going to do?" Blaine asks in between gasps.
"We'll have to . . get out of the boundaries . . Apparate out," Kurt replies. He digs around in his robes, searching for something frantically. Finally, he pulls out Blaine's wand and hands it to him. "I stole it right after I blasted apart the interrogation room."
Blaine takes it, twirling it around in his fingers before holding it at the ready. He looks back to Kurt, vulnerability evident in his eyes. He swallows hard, "You ready?"
Kurt squeezes his hand. "Let's go."
The take a deep breath, and together, they race out the door, wands up.
.
At first, they're alone. Not a single person in site. The guards must have been removed, ordered to look for them somewhere else. Both boys' hearts pound fiercely in their chests, breath coming fast.
They look around, praying to stay safe, but in a matter of seconds, they're surrounded by Aurors.
.
Spells spark past them, hissing past their ears and they duck, fingers slipping apart.
"No- Blaine!" Kurt screams, holding tighter.
"It's okay, it's okay," Blaine assures. "We'll get out of here. We'll get back together."
Kurt shakes his head, tears flowing down his cheeks, but Blaine can't keep hold.
They're separated as they try to stay safe, glancing frantically at each other as they dive and roll. They feel their hearts pounding, their stomachs dropping to their feet. They just pray and hope and wish that the other will be okay and make it out unhurt.
In the circle of Aurors, Blaine recognizes Puck- safe and strong, and he feels a little guilty that he'd never wondered if his partner had been okay. And then as if he can sense Blaine's gaze, Puck looks over to him. Shock breaks across his face and he lowers his guard for just a moment.
"It's Blaine!" he shouts. "Aurors, it's Blaine. After the other one!"
The Aurors' attention is averted from Blaine, everyone focused on taking Kurt down.
Blaine's heart lurches as he watches the crowded boy stumble. The world is falling apart for him; literally and emotionally. He doesn't know how the two of them will make out alive. One will surely end up killed by the other's side.
But it's always been like this. They've always had those labels hanging over their heads.
Death Eater.
Auror.
Never meant to be.
They would always be separated, always judged against, always forced to hate one another in the presence of others.
But Blaine doesn't want to do this anymore.
As Puck runs to him, wanting to see if he's okay, Blaine darts forward, ducking under the array of jinxes to the former Death Eater.
"Kurt!" he screams, reaching out. "Kurt!"
Kurt's panicked face turns toward him and he throws his hand out, grabbing for Blaine's fingers. They crawl and dive, stumbling just to reach one another. Hexes and curses fly around them, threatening to touch, but miraculously they don't. Their hands finally meet, and the two of them grip to each other tightly, crying, trembling, and shaking.
"I've got you, I've got you," Blaine whispers, wrapping his arms around the other boy.
"Oh, God," Kurt breathes. "I'm going to die. I'm going to die. They're going to kill me."
"No they won't," Blaine assures as a Stunning Spell soars past his ear. "And if they do, I'm going down with you."
The Aurors are closing in, confused, but determined to finish Kurt off. Blaine turns, throwing his arms out and shielding him.
Kurt shouts, panicked, "No, Blaine. Blaine, don't-"
Blaine ignores him. "Stop it!" he yells. "Everyone sto-"
"Blaine!"
But he's cut short as a spell hits him squarely in the chest and he's thrown backward, landing ten feet away, unconscious and bleeding.
.
Kurt races to him, not caring if he's hit too. Tears run down his cheeks as he bends over Blaine, grabbing his hand and feeling for the pulse that is thankfully there.
.
The Aurors stop immediately watching in awe and disbelief as their enemy cries and whispers Blaine's name brokenly over and over, trying to get him to wake.
.
And in this beautiful, heartbreaking moment, people really start to understand what the phrase, "you can't judge a book by its cover" means.
None of the Aurors could've ever imagined anything more horrible than the sound of a Death Eater's sobs. To them, Death Eaters are cruel, heartless people, and to witness one broken and completely losing it over one of their own is terrible. Especially when paired with the fact that it was one of them that had hurt Blaine in the first place.
Kurt could've never seen himself going back to his old self. He gave up his entire being to be put in this heartless shell. And to have that feeling of pure, raw love back in himself is overwhelming. He'd like to be angry with the Aurors. It's their fault the only person he cares about is so fucked up, but he can't be as he sees them drop their wands and try to help him.
A few Death Eaters watching freeze in their tracks, hearts wrenching at the scene in front of them. Most of them can't honestly tell you what love is, but as they watch their colleague break down through all his familiar layers, they could give you a good idea.
.
They weren't ever supposed to end up together.
They really were that cliché, weren't they? The forbidden love. The beautiful catastrophe.
By some wonderful and terrible twist of fate, they fell in love, only to be torn apart by the prejudice and judgment in their cruel, unfair world.
A/N: Yay, more wizard!Klaine. So this idea has been floating around in my mind for awhile, and I've finally gotten it down! This fic is in no way affiliated with my other wizard!Klaine fics, but I'll be writing more of their Hogwarts schooldays soon hopefully. (:
Well, I hope you enjoyed it at least somewhat, and reviews would be appreciated.
Oh- and One Night Only? AMAZING band.