Trips to the Lima Bean after school soon became routine for Kurt, and he was fast becoming a regular. Often times, it was only him and Mercedes, but sometimes Rachel would take time out of her ever busy rehearsal and extracurricular schedule to join them. Kurt continued to order the grande nonfat mocha believing it was fate, and then he felt strangely mature when he realized he officially had a coffee order.
There was something else Kurt began to notice, something that he stealthily kept to himself. He held on to the hope that he would see the boy again, the one with the captivating eyes like fiery amber. And like clockwork, every Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday, there he was, over in the corner at his usual table, drinking his coffee with his friends.
Kurt was careful to limit his glances and tried not to be too conspicuous. The last thing he needed was for Rachel to catch on and make a scene. So he admired from afar.
Belly full of after-school coffee and pastry, Kurt laid supine on his bed, arms folded behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. Whenever he tried to concentrate on something, his mind would drift back to the boy at the Lima Bean. He couldn't decide if it was a blessing or a curse, but he felt foolish, knowing that he had undeniably developed a crush on a guy just because he looked his way. God, he felt like an idiot, but it was nice to have something silly to fantasize about. He created scenarios in his head about the boy and the coffee order, inventing dialogues and flirty interactions. If only Kurt had had the guts to get up and say hi. Except, even if he had, what would really be the chances that the boy wouldn't be straight as an arrow and creeped out by Kurt even remotely thinking otherwise or making a big deal out of a single glance during which their eyes just happened to meet?
A heavy sigh filled the quiet room, and Kurt sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed. On his dresser sat a pile of gifts he hadn't yet properly sorted through or figured out a place for. Among the items was the box with the toy wand, and, with a small grin, Kurt rose from the bed to retrieve it.
He carefully took it out of the box again and then brought it back over to the bed. Images of The Boy Who Lived flashed through his mind, and Kurt waved the wand around, pretending he was Harry on one of his many adventures for a few moments. Kurt closed his eyes and whispered, "Lumos."
He twirled around the room, stabbing and slashing at the air as if he were in a sword fight and the wand was a blade. Then he grabbed the fleece throw blanket off the end of the bed and draped it over his head and shoulders, and it became his invisibility cloak.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" Kurt said, pointing the wand at a gum wrapper on the floor, laughing as he bent down to pick it up and toss it in the waste basket.
Then he imagined himself in the arena with the dragon, in the middle of the Triwizard Tournament. What could he use to defeat it?
Then he was just Kurt again, standing in his room alone with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and a toy wand made out of resin. Perhaps he was too old for this type of play, and he wondered: What did Kurt Hummel need? What could he use right now to not feel so lonely and pitiful?
Kurt tossed the blanket back onto the bed and plopped down on his belly, stretching across the short end of the mattress, his legs hanging off the one side and his arms off the other. He lazily waved the wand before allowing his arm to fall limply toward the floor.
"Accio guy friend," Kurt said in jest. He felt like a bit of a jerk thinking about it. It's not that he didn't love Mercedes and Rachel, it was just that sometimes there was so much estrogen in one room that it was suffocating, and he wouldn't mind having someone he could relate to in a different way. Most of the guys at his school didn't even see him as one of the guys, and it hurt more than he'd like to admit.
He examined the wand in his hand, adjusting his grip on the handle. "Accio boyfriend. Yeah right." Kurt closed his eyes, and an image of the Lima Bean boy rose behind his lids. All too clearly, he saw the dark hair, the smile, the laugh lines, the eyes...those eyes that bore into him and made him both terrified and infatuated. And then, without opening his eyes, he mumbled, "Accio hot guy."
He laid there just breathing for a moment, thinking about how hard it was to get anyone to take him seriously about most things, especially his song choices in glee club and his fashion choices. No one really knew him like he wished they could, and he was sick of being hated by the general populace for being misunderstood.
Something crashed to the floor, and Kurt's eyes shot open, his pulse quickening as he quickly rolled over and pulled himself up off the bed. He made to scan the room, but within seconds, he caught sight of something - someone - and his breath hitched. Kurt froze stock-still, the wand held out before him as if it might actually come in handy if he had to defend himself against the intruder.
What was he going to do? Jab it up the guy's nose like Harry had done with the troll in book one?
Kurt thought he was hallucinating, going absolutely batshit out of his mind, because the someone standing before him, clearly terrified, was none other than the boy from the coffee shop.
"Wh - who are you?" Kurt said, his voice shaky. He took a step back. "How did you get in here?"
"I - I, uh," he stammered. "My name's Blaine, and I have no idea how I got here. I'm freaking out right now. Last thing I knew, I was listening to music and studying for my history final, and the next, I'm...here." He glanced around, taking in the interior decor in attempt to register his surroundings.
"No. No way," Kurt said breathlessly. "That's impossible. This is completely implausible and just plain insane."
"Are you some sorta wizard or something, living here in some fancy underground chamber? This is so bizarre. Wait a minute...you look familiar," Blaine said, narrowing his eyes. "Have we met before...?
"No!" Kurt shouted, but then clapped his hand over his mouth. "I mean, no, we've never met. Blaine, is it? God, um..." Kurt lowered the wand now, feeling foolish, and set it carefully on the nightstand. He slid his hands into his pockets and took a deep breath. "I'm Kurt."
"Kurt," Blaine repeated, hesitating briefly as if committing the name to memory. "Now that we've found ourselves in this absurd and completely inconceivable situation, what do you suppose we do? Can you at least figure out how I got here? Which is -?"
"My house, and I - I don't know." Kurt began to pace, his mind reeling as he desperately tried to wrap his head around his current predicament. He had waved the wand, the toy wand, and had summoned a person. It didn't make any sense. It was fake, just a toy...magic didn't really exist.
But then what on earth was happening right now? How could the boy of his fantasies be standing before him in the middle of his bedroom asking him what he wanted to do? When that particular fact completely registered, Kurt felt his blood rise in his face.
And then he wondered. Kurt slowly retrieved the wand from the nightstand, and Blaine eyed him curiously, his eyes flicking from Kurt to the wand and back to Kurt again.
"Is that -?" Blaine began, raising his hand to point.
"Yeah," Kurt breathed. "I thought it was just a toy, but now...I think...I think it's real."