A/N Thanks for reading! :D

ULTIMATE DISCLAIMER: It's not mine.

Chapter Two

Kurt POV

You might not have known it, but I can hear a lot more than people think I can. Most people just think that my ears are different, but I know the truth. It was because my Mom was a witch. Crazy right? Don't run away too soon, I swear on my new Marc Jacobs tote that I'm not mental!

I've heard numerous fights, and make-ups (some have scarred me for life!). And some people wonder why I'm top of the gossip mill!

Don't tell anyone, but sometimes I hear things that people don't speak out loud. That's right, it's like mind-reading! But I can only do it if I'm staring into someone's eyes, and only then, if I'm staring into their eyes for a long time. That's how I figured out that I wasn't right for Finn – I heard his thoughts.

So I was sitting in my room one day, when I heard my Dad on the phone. It was definitely him, and he was talking about some things that I didn't really understand.

"Dumbledore? Dead? Are you sure? You tried all other ways?"

I sat there puzzled. Dumbledore? I recognized that name. Who was it? It sounded like one of the people my Mom used to know. My Dad carried on with his conversation.

"Four of them? Sure, I'll try my best to get them over the war. I've got a son, do you remember Kurt? I will enroll the kids at his school – McKinley High – and they can stay in our spare rooms."

Who was staying with us? Well, whoever they were, there were four of them. And why was my Dad talking to these people about me? I've got no idea who they are!

"Tomorrow? How will they be arriving? Floo? Got it. Thanks again. Bye!"

Then with that, my Dad turned the phone off. What in god's name was Floo?

A few minutes later, my Dad called me upstairs.

"Look son, I know you probably heard my conversation..."

I nodded guiltily.

"So here is what it all means. You know your Mom was a witch? Well I kept in touch with the magical community after she died, through Albus Dumbledore."

So that's who Dumbledore was...

"He was one of the most powerful wizards ever to have lived, but he was very old; one hundred and fifteen to be exact. But when he was fighting the Dark Lord, an evil wizard who wanted to wipe out Muggles—"

"Muggles?" I repeated.

"Non – Magical people," my Dad carried on. "When Dumbledore was fighting the Dark Lord, he let loose a final burst of really strong magic, which not only obliterated the Dark Lord, but ended his own life. It was a very sad day in the Wizarding world when he passed on."

"Erm... Dad?" I continued. "I know that it's sad and all, but what has that got to do with me? I know Mom was a witch, but that doesn't mean that I need to know anything that is going on there."

My Dad sighed and shifted his weight over to his other foot.

"Well, there was also a big battle – The Final Battle as it's being called – that has left many people damaged and distraught. We will be housing four students, about your age, and helping them to get over the war. They have been through a lot Kurt, so I don't want you to overcrowd them, okay?"

When he said that, I was about to start getting defensive, but he carried on over me.

"I know, I know, this isn't about you being...different, okay? They've had to grow up a lot faster than most people their age. They will be transferred to your school after they arrive, and it is your job to make sure they are ok."

"Of course Dad. Where are they from again? England, right?"

"Uh huh. Three boys and a girl. As you may have guessed, they are wizards and a witch just like your Mom. Just don't tell everyone; they really don't need to be singled out. But, because I know that this might be quite hard on you, I have come up with a job that will improve things for you."

I started getting excited at this point. My Dad knew that there wasn't much that would get me really excited now, except dressing things up. I listened with eager ears.

"Kurt, I need you to redo the two spare rooms. One suitable for a girl, and one suitable for three teenage boys about your age. Don't worry about them being squeamish over sharing a room; they shared dormitories at their school. So is that alright with you?"

Before I let out my happy squeal, I needed to know one thing.

"Dad, when are these kids arriving?"

My Dad turned around, because he had started walking away.

"They should be here in a few days time."

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