Love, Like Ghosts: A Glee/Harry Potter Crossover
Pairing: Harry Potter/Dave Karofsky (as well as canon Finn/Rachel, Kurt/Blaine, Sam/Mercedes, Tina/Mike and maybe some hints of Brittany/Santana) I also totally support a Harry-Blaine friendship.
Summary: Pushing for change and left with their ruins of their only magic-based school, the Ministry of Magic passes a law that forces each Hogwarts student still awaiting graduation to spend one year attending a muggle school. Harry finds himself relocated to Lima, Ohio- where the football coach is a former-Auror, the cheerleading coach is absolutely certifiable and blatant discrimination and prejudices thrive in the cut-throat world of high school.
It's there, nestled in the pool of hatred and pettiness that Harry finds Mr. Shuester's Glee Club and finds himself with the dubious task of navigating their tumultuous web of friendships and relationships all while convincing one reformed bully that sometimes a little courage can go a long way.
Spoilers: Content from all seven Harry Potter books as well as all aired episodes of Glee will be used in this story. While this story is set in what would be the 3rd Season of Glee, everything is nothing more than mere speculation on my part. Glee spoilers are so ridiculously inconsistent that trying to follow them is futile.
Notes: This story seems to be picking up something that resembles a plot, if only because my brain wouldn't stop asking me why exactly Harry would even end up in the US and then I had to somehow try and make it work. There's going to have to be some sort of suspension of canon timelines, particularly that of the Harry Potter Universe because the events of all seven books have in fact taken place but Harry is still merely seventeen for a majority of this story. If that really needs an explanation, I'm debating on hitting on the 'age is strange concept for magical folks because they live exceedingly longer lives than muggles' or that the events of Books Six and Seven were condensed into one year. Or Harry's cover story makes it necessary for him to 'legally' be seventeen when he's really eighteen. (Although all that business with the Time-Turners and such in Book Three makes me wonder if Hermione would legally be considered older than her recorded age. Questions, questions and even more questions.)
For: The Plot Bunny Whisper because they asked for a Harry/Dave story and I was hella intrigued.
Thanks for all the wonderful reviews and for picking out any errors I'd missed in the last chapter. Sadly I only have me and my spell-check to run over this thing before I post so any help is greatly appreciated!
Warning: There are homophobic characters in this part and for the rest of the story. Absolutely none of the views of these characters reflect my own. If you find you're sensitive to harsh language or physical/slushie violence, please turn back now.
Also, there are mentions of past Dave/Kurt and past Harry/Cedric. Both of these pairings will not have a huge impact on the story and can be pretty much ignored if they're not your cup of tea because they don't actually happen. If that makes any sense.
Love, Like Ghosts
Part Three
As a general rule in life, Santana Lopez cared about no one but herself.
It wasn't that her parents were shitty or absent or whatever Lifetime Movie-esque hidden secret the world probably thought she had going on. Her mom was a quiet woman who loved to freaking bake all the damn time and whenever her dad wasn't working his ass off like a fucking boss he spent his time home with his family.
They were pretty awesome and Santana absolutely hated it.
She wanted out. Out of Lima and it's stupidly small-minded, in-your-face nosy population. She wanted out of Ohio and it's boring, boring, boring everything.
She wanted sun and sand and ice-cold martinis in her hand.
She wanted Brittany.
Santana knew that would never happen if she let herself care about people- if she stayed in, in small town Lima, Ohio just because she got attached.
So she didn't.
That didn't mean that every now and then, Santana didn't find herself not actively disliking a few people. Brittany, for obvious reasons. Kurt, because if there was one thing she could respect it was a bitch with a killer voice. Even Dave made being gay in this assbackwards town a little less lonely.
Harry Potter sure as hell wasn't one of those people- Santana barely knew the guy outside of their sole conversation in the girls' bathroom- but she'd flirted and for the first time, a hot, single guy had turned her down.
It wasn't just her talking out of her ass when Santana said she'd never been turned down. She hadn't; she'd had a- completely unsatisfying- whirl on Finnocence even though he'd been hung up on the loud, large-handed cabbage patch kid he now called his girlfriend. She had a standing deal with Puck when it came to sexting and whenever they needed something a little less like a freaking relationship.
Hell, Santana had gotten her claws into the deliciously flexible Mike Chang before the Gothic Vamp-Asian had sunk her teeth into him.
Even the sickeningly charming Sam Evans had come calling, inspiring her magnificent original song, Trouty Mouth. Just because he hadn't appreciated it didn't mean it wasn't badass- or accurate.
The point was that guys- straight guys- didn't ever turn her down. It was like, a universal law. The fact that the messy-haired dwarf who'd apparently spent some time in a girls' washroom before getting slushied, had? It made him interesting and Santana needed some more interesting in her life.
That was why she'd literally dragged Dave to school at the asscrack of dawn- well, quarter past seven in the morning but whatevs- to make sure they'd get there in time to ambush the guy before Azimio and his sweaty flying monkeys got the chance.
"I really freaking hate you right now," Dave said staring blearily out at the empty parking lot. "Not even Beiste is here yet."
Santana gave him a dismissive hand wave. "You have anything better to do? Are your wet dreams about Hummel and his pocket-sized boytoy really that interesting?"
"It's not like that," Dave snapped, flushing in the early morning light. "We're buddies now. I help him with PFLAG shit and he doesn't tell anyone I'm…you know."
"Capital G gay?" Santana suggested, raising her eyebrow. She knew it was like, a process or whatever- Twelve Steps To Admitting You Like Dick- but the fact that Dave couldn't even say it made her wonder if he was ever going to step out of his closet.
"Are you seriously telling me you'd turn his ass down?" She asked, half-serious. "Because I've seen him under those ridiculously suggestive bondage clothes and that boy has a nice body. Nice."
Dave shrugged. "Maybe last year I might have tried to hit that," he admitted, pulling on his beret anxiously, "but he's kind of a bitch, you know? Anderson might find it cute but I mostly just wish he'd stop talking when he starts going on about clothes and musicals and shit."
"Aren't you charming," Santana said drolly, and dropped the issue. She got it really, sometimes Santana wondered if getting her hand up Berry's skirt would make her fucking relax for a minute but even the hot mental image of getting that girl to let loose couldn't make her forget how much she hated Rachel Berry's like, whole personality.
Sometimes she just wanted to ogle someone; it wasn't a damn crime.
"Speaking of your wank fantasies come to life, look who just rolled up," Santana said, nudging Dave in the stomach. "Please tell me the two of you are sneaking into school early to take care of Sandy's tragic virginity problem already."
"Does that make me Danny Zuko?" Blaine asked Kurt, looking a little hopeful.
"I think we should be more worried that Santana's making a musical reference before eight in the morning," Kurt pointed out, sipping his coffee and eying their jackets with that funny little expression he got whenever Rachel wore her tartan skirt, woollen knee-high socks and poodle sweater together.
"Screw you, Hummel," Santana drawled lazily, "Grease is a classic. Rizzo totally deserved more screen time."
"And suddenly your whole personality disorder makes more sense," Kurt replied cordially, as if they were talking about the damn weather. His eyes slid over to take in Dave's tense form standing just behind Santana. "Good Morning, David."
Blaine edged closer, as if he looked like anything other than a pissy Pomeranian puppy with his ridiculous hair and overly-expressive face. Kurt kicked his shin lightly as Dave took in the posturing and looked away with a quiet, "S'up, Hummel."
Santana had to wonder how a girl like her had gotten stuck between three gay dudes.
"What's the big secret, Dave and Ivan? Has Kurt's dad threatened you with the flame thrower yet because I've got money on him kicking your ass when he walks in on you deflowering Pinocchio over there."
"Oh my God," Blaine muttered, dragging Kurt along. "Please stop talking Santana. We were just going to go practice for my audition for the Glee Club. Now I feel dirty."
"I'm pretty sure she has that affect on everyone," Kurt said comfortingly as they turned the corner and disappeared from sight.
Santana gave Dave a small smirk and said, "Virgins. Forever."
He looked away, out at the parking lot for a moment before rolling his eyes and she remembered that Dave was totally a dude-virgin too. Well, awkward.
A sleek, red car pulled into the parking lot with almost uncanny timing as Santana debated on whether or not she cared enough to kind of apologize or something
Even from a distance she would recognise that pint-sized head of hair anywhere. It was seriously in need of like, a comb, a squirt bottle and some heavy-duty gel.
Harry stopped at the end of the parking lot and eyed them suspiciously as Dave sighed and shuffled behind her. "Am I going to have to ask you your flat rate before the week is through?"
Santana smirked. "You can have me for free."
"Don't sell yourself short."
"You'd know all about being short, wouldn't you?"
"Are you done or can we get this over with?" Dave asked, cutting them off. Harry smiled at him, slow and easy and a touch embarrassed and Santana had that sudden, devious flicker of thought.
She shot Dave a speculative glance, mentally checking off the wandering eyes and uncomfortable hands-in-the-front-pockets squirming in disbelief. How was she the only homo not getting any in the near future here?
The reason for Harry's strangely polite and well-meaning rejection of her totally smoking advances actually made sense again. He was…well, at least appreciative of the male form.
There was the intel that Puck had gotten on Mercedes', Rachel's and surprisingly Finn's behalf- that Harry wasn't a sneaky gay looking to steal Kurt's curly-haired manlove right out from under his nose- but Santana knew that there was more than one way to be gay in Lima.
She also knew that at seventeen, all guys were a little bi-curious to say the least. Puck might have thought himself a total sex shark when it came to the female half of McKinley's student body but Santana had it on good authority that there had been copious ball slapping when Puck had joined Matt in double-teaming the boozy April Rhodes.
If a guy like Puck could be an opportunistic gay, the chances were that Harry had at least thought about it.
Thought about it a lot by the way he and Dave were eying each other up. Santana kind of wanted to vomit.
"So Jeeves, what's with the early morning sneakiness?" she asked as Harry glanced down at his watch anxiously. "I seriously hope you weren't planning on just trying to hide from Azimio and his clan of sweaty douche bags or I may have to revaluate being seen in public with you."
"Actually I was planning on jamming the dumpster lids closed before anyone was seriously injured," Harry said before turning to walk around to the side entrance he'd used yesterday.
Santana shrugged. "I'm in. What's the plan?"
He looked back at her over his shoulder, his eyes drifting past her to take in Dave's reluctant shuffling as Harry said, "I'm really just going to wing it."
Santana tried to share an eye roll with her goddamn fake boyfriend only to find his eyes tracking something a bit too low to be Harry's back.
"Checking out the brand name of his jeans too?" she hissed in annoyance. "I'm pretty sure they're Wal-Mart."
Dave's expression went tight and flushed, as if he were about to be sick and for a moment Santana regretted teasing him. "Shut up."
Harry looked back at them, his eyes lingering only to dart away as Dave tried to sneak his own glance.
Santana sighed, rolling her eyes skyward. Her karma score had better be fucking saint-like after this.
If Dave Karofsky ever believed in God, this was the perfect proof that that God hated him.
It wasn't as if Dave didn't think that, on some deeper, darker level, he didn't deserve it. He'd made Kurt Hummel's life hell for years; physically, verbally, mentally and on one occasion sexually.
He'd never forgive himself for becoming that person, that vicious, mean-spirited monster haunting the halls of McKinley. The fact that Kurt had forgiven him, was still trying to help him after Dave had driven him out of Lima and McKinley was almost impossible to believe.
Along with accepting Kurt's friendship and quiet support, Dave slipped out of the desperate haunting attraction he'd felt for him. The weight of being what he was lifted just enough to let him breathe and it was a little easier to pretend that maybe, just maybe he wasn't that. He wasn't gay.
And then Santana befriended the new guy.
Dave had felt the tingling, heart-stopping grip of that hand on his lungs before and for a moment, he was terrified. He thought he was over it, that he could bury the warmth he felt when one of the guys on the team punched him in the shoulder; that the press of Santana against his side made him feel anything other than 'not alone' or 'ew boobs'.
The cold, creeping fist of fear gripped the base of his spine. He couldn't pretend with this guy walking right in front of his eyes, looking back and smiling. Dave couldn't handle it. He couldn't breathe.
So he did what he always did. He pulled back, he lashed out and he ran.
"Hey, Harry!"
Harry turned quickly at the familiar voice, keeping an eye out for any stray slushies and jocks as he put his back to the locker door and caught sight of Blaine dragging a taller, pale boy through the unforgiving, crowded hallway.
"I'm happy to see you haven't made it to the bottom of a dumpster yet," he said with a smile, eying the strange print on the pants of the stranger. Who wore bright red pants with white starbursts on them anyway?
"Yes well, apparently the dumpsters are all suddenly out of order," Blaine said cheerfully, his arm still looped casually through the stranger's. "I'm going to take a wild guess and assume you had something to do with it."
"I admit to nothing," Harry said with a grin before turning to face the teen giving Blaine a rather obvious 'introduce me now' look. "Hi, I'm Harry Potter."
"Kurt Hummel," the guy said, shaking Harry's hand with a secure, warm grip. "Blaine's been talking non-stop about what you did for him yesterday. I'm thankful someone else was there when I wasn't."
Harry shrugged, looking over the smiley pair as a red jacket rounded the corner. "No problem, really. It was foul what those jocks were planning. Can the two of you do something for me right now? Don't move."
Identical puzzled expressions greeted him as Harry caught sight of the double-slushie attack headed their way and quickly made a damning decision.
Having missed nearly two years of actually playing Seeker on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, Harry desperately hoped that his reflexes were up to par with what he remembered them to be. At the last second, as the unfamiliar jock circled around a group of straggling girls, Harry darted quickly around Kurt's right side and used the palms of both of his hands to slam the slushie cups up and back into the larger teen's face.
The vocal buzzing of dozens of conversations trickled down to silence in the hallway as the stunned jock stared back at Harry, dripping red and blue slushie onto the tiled floor.
"Cold, isn't it?" Harry said softly, eying the mess with distaste. "Bet your eyes are really starting to sting right about now too- you can blink, if you want. No one will make fun of you, it's not like they haven't all been the victim of this…what do you call this anyway?"
"Slushie facial," Kurt said helpfully. Harry gave his shoulder a fond pat.
"Yes, that. Now," he pressed in closer to the jock, taking in the growing anger and embarrassed flush started to swell on his flabby cheeks. "I want you to deliver a message for me, to all of your other team mates who seem to think this sort of thing is fun. Yesterday was a fluke. I won't be caught off-guard again. If you continue to try, this will be the result. The same goes for you trying this on anyone I may befriend while I'm here. Understand?"
The nameless jock shoved him back furiously. "Fags," he sneered at Harry and the two boys behind him before disappearing down the hallway and around the corner again.
A locker slammed as the silence lit up with whispers and gossip again.
Harry rolled his eyes, exasperated and vaguely hoping that no one would slip on the sticky mess the jock's failed slushie attack had left on the floor.
Kurt and Blaine were staring at him with wide, excited eyes as he turned back to face them. It gave Harry a sharp, heavy feeling under his ribs that something as easy and innocent as sticking up for them was so foreign. No one deserved to feel like they weren't worth that.
"Please stop looking at me like that," he finally said when it appeared as though he'd struck the two of them speechless. "It's making me uncomfortable."
"I think you've reached sainthood for saving my pants alone," Kurt said softly, his expression almost awed.
"You've also more than likely made yourself public enemy number one with that stunt," Blaine pointed out, frowning.
Harry gave him a mock wide-eyed look of surprise. "You mean I wasn't already? I must be losing my touch."
"You should sit with us at lunch," Kurt said suddenly as the warning bell rang above them. "I mean, you're already getting slurs thrown your way- sitting at the Gleek table couldn't possibly hurt your school rep any more."
Harry nodded, wondering exactly what a Gleek Table was as Blaine began tugging Kurt back down the hallway and hopefully towards their first class. Harry grabbed his own knapsack and quickly side-stepped the slippery mess on the floor as he made his way towards his Calculus class.
This classroom was smaller than many of the others Harry had attended the day before; three rows of six chairs were crammed into it, one spare chair flipped up onto the counter at the back of the room.
The reason for the extra chair rolled into the classroom not too long after Harry, taking the one and only seat left open. The guy gave him an apologetic look before he fist-bumped the skinny Asian guy sitting to his left.
The teacher scrambled in seconds later, nearly knocking Harry over his her haste to close the door as the final bell of the morning rang. "Sorry! I'm- oh. You're the next kid. Hang on."
She dropped her grade book and the attendance sheet, a large, plastic pencil case in bright yellow slipping out to pop open on the tiled floor when she bent down to try and pick them up.
Harry quickly offered his assistance as pens and pencils rolled away from their out-reached fingers. "Here, I'm- sorry; I'm not sure where to sit."
"Thank you, no I've got it. Go sit with Dave- he was my top student last year."
Finally, having crammed all of the gaudy, bobble-headed pens back into the pencil case, Harry straightened up and slipped down to the back of the classroom to grab the extra chair.
He slid the chair across the floor with a smile, taking in the less-than pleased expression that seemed to always grace Dave's face at his presence.
Granted, Harry had only actually met the guy that very morning, however years of being a student under the acidic tongue of Severus Snape had taught Harry a thing or two about picking up when someone was uncomfortable around him.
Dave Karofsky was unquestionably uncomfortable around him.
"I can move if you'd prefer," Harry offered as their teacher tried to get herself organized at the front of the class and ended up knocking over her chair. "You seem tense."
"I'm fine," Dave said between gritted teeth and the show of obvious discomfort nearly made him miss it; the way the larger teen's eyes cut towards Harry and skimmed his face, slow and interested.
Well.
Contrary to popular belief- also known as Ron, Hermione and most of the living Weasley clan- the war had taught Harry a thing or two about reading people. Between studying the way Dumbledore's cheerful, unconcerned façade had hidden his tragic past and stunning magical brilliance, and the way Snape had played an almost perfect role as a double-spy, Harry knew how to look at body language, at the cadence of a person's voice and pick out their true intentions in the falsehoods on their lips.
He knew when someone was being truthful. He knew when they were lying. He knew when they were sincere and he knew when someone was attracted to him.
That didn't mean that any sort of physical attraction didn't absolutely baffle Harry of course. He knew his body's short coming well- he was horrifically short compared to other guys his age, he was pale and his hair was in a constant state of unkempt and ruffled. He had scars, specifically the one on his forehead and his arms. An identical lightning bolt scar to the one over his brow arced over his heart, just hidden by the collar of his polo.
His knees were knobby and he just looked far too thin to be healthy but despite his unstylish selection of glasses, Harry had eyes of his own and he couldn't in good conscience say that, in this instance, the attraction wasn't reciprocated.
Dave looked…strong was the first word that came to Harry's mind as he studied the teen sitting to his right. Strong and firm and healthy. His hair was thick and sepia, a stark contrast to the pale skin of his face and hazel-green of his eyes.
Dave shot him another look of unease and Harry realized that his staring was becoming rather obvious.
"Dude, stop it. People are going to think you're...you know, on top of being a Gleek loser."
Harry frowned. "You mean gay? Is that honestly the ultimate sin in this school?"
"You see how bad Hummel and his guy have it," Dave snapped, flipping open his textbook to the proper page and shoving it between them. "Last year was worse."
Harry studied the page nearest to him for a moment before he reached out to tug at the sleeve of Dave's red, satin jacket. "Is that why you and Santana started the Bullywhips?"
He frowned in sharp confusion as Dave all but yanked his arm across the desk at the touch of Harry's fingers. "I didn't have a choice, man. Just…shut up and pay attention."
To say he was confused would have been a vast understatement, as Harry crossed his own arms and turned his gaze to the front. Nothing about Dave's behaviour made much sense to him; he was obviously attracted to Harry physically yet he all but jumped out of his skin at any kind of reciprocation or contact. He was one half of the school's anti-bullying team even though he obviously did not want the student body to think he was, in any way, gay.
Curiosity piqued, Harry knew he wouldn't be getting any answers out of Dave by continuing to question him during class. As the boy in the wheelchair raised his hand to ask a question, Harry vowed to get to the bottom of this at lunch. Although a new student himself, it was obvious that Kurt and Blaine had something to do with Dave Karofsky's behaviour.
Santana dropped him off at the entrance to the cafeteria with a parting leer and a half-hearted attempt at a grope.
Blaine gave him a hesitant, encouraging look as if he wasn't quite sure that Santana's behaviour was proper or even welcome.
"I'm pretty sure flirty is her default setting," Harry said soothingly as they made their way to the lunch line. "Where's your better half?"
"One conversation and already you're deeming Kurt my better half? I'm hurt," Blaine replied, handing him a tray. The slight flush to his neck let Harry know that Blaine thought Kurt was his better half too. "He's helping Tina get slushie out of her streaks. Your heroics this morning saved us but left the rest of the Glee Club at the mercy of the jocks."
Harry frowned fiercely down at the Tuna Surprise sitting disgustingly behind the sneeze guard. "I'm going to absolutely destroy that bloody slushie machine before the week is through, just watch."
The long, picnic-shaped table in the corner of the cafeteria was nearly full as Blaine led him over to a squabbling, mixed-matched group of teenagers Harry guessed was the McKinley High School Glee Club.
"Guys, this is Harry Potter- the guy from-"
"Whoa, Blaine. You found someone even littler than you," the tallest red-jacketed teen said suddenly. Harry eyed his overly tall body with a critical frown as he sat.
"That's Finn- Kurt's step-brother," Blaine said with a sigh, his mouth quirked in exasperation. "His brain-to-mouth filter is kind of non-existent."
Finn frowned at the two of them. "Hey, that's mean. Right?"
The Asian kid from Harry's first period Calculus class shrugged. "Maybe. Still accurate. I'm Mike Chang."
Harry nodded eying the surprising number of jocks at what Kurt and Blaine had essentially confirmed as the Loser Table that morning. "We have first period together."
"Yo, brother," the kid in the wheelchair called down the table. "Don't forget me."
"That's Artie," Blaine said, unwrapping his plastic fork. "Next to him is Brittany- no the blond one."
Harry waved down at them, arching an eyebrow as Brittany stared back intently at him and asked where his black cat was.
"She's…special," was the only explanation Artie had for him. Brittany thanked him throwing her arms around his head happily.
"That's Mercedes, Sam, Lauren, Quinn, Puck and finally Rachel," Blaine continued, pointing out each person with the pronged tip of his fork. "All we're missing is Tina, Kurt and Santana."
"Just Santana," Kurt said from behind them. Harry automatically moved down the bench to let him sit next to Blaine. "Thanks. Tina's hair is safe for another day."
The pretty Asian girl, whose blue-streaked hair was still slightly damp, gave Kurt a grateful smile before Mike pulled her down and dropped a kiss onto her cheek. "It was blue-raspberry slushie- if it had been cherry I would be sporting purple highlights and then I'd clash."
"I've spent most of the morning with Santana and Dave," Harry said with a grin. "Lunch might actually come as a reprieve."
"You are public enemy number one at the moment," Kurt pointed out patiently, uncapping his bottle of spring water. "Especially after the whole slushie intervention this morning."
"Azimio is pissed," Puck said, kicking Sam under the table. "He's been wailing on us all extra in practice."
Harry winced. "Sorry. That truly wasn't my intention."
"Wait, Dave? You mean Karofsky?" Finn asked suddenly, and Harry had to wonder if maybe the guy wasn't still processing that part of the conversation.
"Yes. He runs The Bullywhips with Santana, right? They've been shadowing me since this morning."
"I think it's nice that they're going to continue the fight against bullying despite what happened last year," Kurt said, reaching out his hand to curl around Blaine's elbow. Harry wondered if he was the only one at the table who wanted to box them up and keep out all the bad things that seemed to weight down on them.
Despite their obvious personality differences, the couple reminded him of Ron and Hermione and how much he'd been willing to sacrifice to let them finally, finally be together.
"I guess it's cool," Mercedes said, looking unsure. "Wish he could get the rest of the hockey and football team to stop."
"You should stay away from him," Finn said, screwing up his face in concentration as he thought of something unpleasant. "He's a douche."
Kurt scoffed, slamming his fork down on the lunch tray. "He's not! He's changed a lot since last year. McKinley actually has something of an anti-bullying force for once."
"Yeah," Artie said hesitantly, "mostly because the schools two biggest former-bullies are running it."
"Then maybe there's hope that others will join the cause!" Kurt looked absolutely exasperated with his friends, looking to Blaine and Rachel for support. Both nodded but Harry couldn't help but see how much the idea of agreeing with Kurt about Dave annoyed them.
"He totally stole Sam's girlfriend last year," Finn said loudly, as if they'd been shouting out reason why Harry befriending Dave Karofsky was a bad idea. Which, if Harry was honest, they kind of were.
"Yeah, and so did you," Sam pointed out, sending the returning quarterback a dark look.
Harry whistled over the noisy aftermath of that little secret getting out, trying to get everyone's attention.
"Not that I don't…appreciate what you're trying to do here," Harry said as Quinn sniffed in disdain and began playing with the ends of her short, flippy hair. "Well, to be honest I don't appreciate being told who I should or shouldn't befriend. I'm sure had yesterday morning happened differently, someone else would have told me to stay away from the Glee Club because everyone thinks they're total losers."
Kurt shot them all a smug look. "Harry's right. New Directions is supposed to be about acceptance and giving people a second chance. What happened last year had more to do with me than it did anyone else here and I seem to be the only person who's tried at all to get over it."
"It just seems like he's getting off easy," Tina finally said, sharing a look with Mike. "Karofsky tortured all of us long before we even joined Glee Club- now that he's sorry everything should just be okay?"
"I don't think it's easy," Brittany said suddenly. "It's kind of like reading. Sometimes the words get a jumbled up and it gives me a headache. Azimio and Dave used to be best friends but now Dave only has Santana."
Brittany frowned down at sandwich. "I want her back."
Everyone seemed to quiet at the soft admission by Brittany. Harry really had to wonder what the history behind those words were and if they had anything to do with why Santana tried so hard to flirt with him.
"What's your next class?" Blaine asked calmly into the awkwardness. Harry had a feeling he was used to filling awkward silences with pointed, precise questions.
"Philosophy with Professor Barnes," he said before grimacing. "I mean Mr. Barnes. Sorry."
"Same here, I'll walk you there," Kurt said briskly, devouring his somewhat sparse-looking salad in quick, neat bites. "I think everyone else here has computer tech, art or music."
Everyone murmured some sort of noise of agreement and continued to break off into their own little groups of conversation. Harry polished off what he hoped was a peanut butter and jam sandwich on whole wheat and wondered if he'd be able to get anything out of Kurt as they walked to class.
Kurt Hummel was something of a perfectionist.
Harry was equal parts amused, fond and horrified to find the taller teen reminded him strongly of both Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy; neither of whom he knew would appreciate the comparison.
Kurt was talking rapidly about someone's latest Fall line up while Harry searched desperately in his already overflowing locker for a blank binder. He bit his lip for a moment- realizing that no, Kurt wasn't talking about sports; he was talking about clothing, for Merlin's sake- before he interrupted the other teen's long-running babble.
"Can I ask you a question? I know we've only just met really and if I'm being an absolute berk you can tell me to bugger off and sic your humungous brother on me but-"
"Harry, breathe," Kurt instructed sharply, his expression amused. "You should know by now that I pretty much have no problem telling someone off for being nosy. Ask away."
Harry stared in at the contents of his locker for a moment before he turned his gaze on Kurt. "What happened last year? I can't deny that despite taking your friends' advice with a large grain of salt, their reactions have made me unbearably curious."
Kurt frowned as he looked at his nails in what was obviously an attempt at casual indifference. "I take it you mean their passive-aggressive hatred of Dave Karofsky. Really, I'm starting to think it's really just misplaced guilt for most of them. Well, minus Blaine."
Harry smiled at Kurt, wide and teasing. "Yes, Blaine. The boy who transferred to a school full of homophobes to be with you. His over-protective side isn't all that surprising, to be honest."
Kurt blushed, much to his delight. The other teen always seemed so put together, the sign of something a little humanizing put Harry at ease. "Yes, well you don't know the whole story but I met Blaine when I was forced to transfer schools mid-term last year. The bullying got to the point where I wasn't safe here."
It all came to a chilling conclusion in Harry's mind, as he took in the furious faces of Kurt's friends, Blaine's staunch dislike of Dave and Kurt's insistence that they all actually try and get past it.
"It was Dave, wasn't it?"
Kurt looked uncomfortable, his shoulders tense under his tight, soft-looking jacket. "It wasn't just him- Finn, Puck and Mike used to bully me before they all joined the Glee Club but yes. Dave…kind of went off the rails last year. I had to leave."
"Yet you came back?"
Kurt shrugged. "Glee Club is kind of like family around here. We're all united with how utterly talented and unpopular we are. I only came back when Dave had started to deal with his issues."
Harry pulled his knapsack out of his locker again, brow still furrowed in thought. Things were making a strange sort of sense again, if only as to why Kurt's friends were so unwilling to give Dave the benefit of the doubt.
"Why you?" he asked abruptly, remembering Tina's admission from lunch. "He's targeted the other members of your club but none of them needed to physically change schools."
"Harry, you're looking at one half of McKinley's out gay population. The other half generally spends his free-time attached to my mouth," Kurt replied with a wry smile.
It took a moment for Harry to decode what pointedly wasn't being said and his jaw dropped.
"Wait, he bullied you because you're gay? Why would he- isn't he ga-"
Kurt's eyes widened fearfully as he slapped a surprisingly smooth palm over Harry's mouth and hissed, "shut up! You can't just say something like that here. Come."
Harry nudged his locker door shut with his elbow as Kurt grabbed his wrist and dragged him back into the same girls' toilet from his first day. A quick check of all the stalls made sure that they were alone before Kurt flicked the lock on the door and took and deep breath.
"I don't think Blaine will appreciate you dragging me into a toilet like this," Harry said into the silence, eying Kurt's angry expression.
"You can't out Karofsky," he said in reply, gripping the strap of his messenger bag tightly. "He's so deeply in the closet I could make highly inappropriate Narnia jokes. I- last year he was just so angry and terrified. Things spiralled out of control and only like, five people right now actually know the whole story. That's why everyone is so ridiculously determined to hate him no matter how much Dave's trying to change."
A part of Harry was outraged that the same guy from that morning would even think to become such a ghastly person that Kurt would have to leave his friends and his school for his safety. The part of Harry that wanted to see the world in good and bad, black and white, was righteous in its anger.
He also knew that sometimes, people were nothing more than human. They got scared and angry and selfish and they did despicable things because they were hurting and hopeless.
"I'm not going to out him," Harry said sternly and Kurt seemed to almost melt with relief. "I'm mildly offended that you think I would but I can understand your concern."
"It's just not my secret to tell. Last year he was really, really messed up and I know that doesn't excuse his behaviour but sometimes I feel like I'm the only one who gets it," Kurt said quietly before he gave his watchless wrist a pointed look. "We should get to class- we're already late."
Harry hummed in agreement, his mind still buzzing in circles of conflicting thoughts. "You can tell the teacher I got lost. Being the new kid certainly has its advantages this time."
"Ooh, I wonder how much mileage we can get out of that little excuse," Kurt said cheerfully, unlocking the washroom door with a flourish and leading them back out into the corridor and off to class.
Wednesday classes came and went without much more than three attempted slushie facials.
The tops of the dumpsters were all but welded shut, much to the confusion and horror of Principal Figgins. Harry pointedly avoided that area of the school, hoping to keep a low profile even though Puck cornered him between first and second period to slap his back in a painful welcome to bro-hood or something.
Santana slammed two jocks for trying to give Artie a swirly in the boys' locker room. How or why she was even in their to begin with only seemed to puzzle Harry as the rest of the Glee Club took the news as if it were something to be expected.
Still, Harry vowed to keep an eye on Artie despite the patrolling Bullywhips. As infuriated it made him that the jocks picked on Kurt and Blaine for being gay, overpowering a guy in a wheelchair took things to a whole new low.
Dave, and to a much lesser extent, Santana seemed to be avoiding him as the jocks appeared frustrated and completely out of ideas in the halls. Harry grinned cheerfully at the ones who were bold enough to make eye contact with him and knew that they were planning something big by the way they snarled and sneered back at him.
Catching sight of Dave meeting his gaze and making the conscious decision to turn around and flee was more than enough to put Harry in a bad mood. Nobody even knew who he really was here in Lima and physically Harry knew that he didn't have the most intimidating body shape- Dave had no reason to actively avoid him.
Unless, the sly part of Harry's mind whispered, he's afraid of something else about you. This, he determined, pretty much sucked because despite knowing what he did about Dave's somewhat sordid past antics Harry didn't find himself any less attracted to the larger teen.
At all.
The cherry of absolute annoyance on top of the sundae of hate that had become Harry's Wednesday came in the form of Blaine and Kurt cornering him in the back of the parking lot.
"That's a happy face," Blaine said in greeting, leaning against the driver's side door of Harry's car. "Bad day?"
"Are you here to make it worse?"
Kurt smirked, looking sharp and catty. "Ohh, someone's cranky. Are we seeing the inner bitch you've been keeping caged with a posh accent and sickeningly polite mannerisms?"
Harry squinted back at him, scowling. "If you keep talking like that I'm going to burn your sparkly scarves- sequins, glitter or sheer fabric, all of them will suffer."
"We wanted to know if you wanted to try out for Glee Club," Blaine said quickly, stepping in between the two of them with a winsome smile. "Auditions are on Friday and Monday."
Kurt gave the scarf on his neck a protective caress. "We do already have the required number of members to qualify for Sectionals but a surplus of willing bodies might actually be a good thing. Just in case anyone ends up in Juvie again or has to transfer schools. Or impregnates someone else's significant other."
"Optimistic outlook you have there." Harry wasn't sure he wanted to know the stories behind half of those scenarios.
"It's called realism. Something always happens."
Harry sighed as he fished his keys out of his jacket pocket. "As charming as it sounds I'm afraid I have absolutely no talent in the areas of singing or dancing."
"We have Finn, Mike and Lauren- you really don't have to be talented at all. You pretty much just have to be living," Kurt said with a roll of his eyes. Blaine bit his lip to keep from grinning too hard.
"Look, just think about it and if you want to go for it we'll help you choose a song over the weekend," he said kindly, wrapping a quick hand around Kurt's wrist and moving off of Harry's car. "We need to get to practice."
Harry waved them off tiredly, more than ready to make the drive to his temporary home and just collapse and think for a moment.
Coach Beiste shouted his name across the parking lot, jogging over with a kind smile. "I'm going to grab a couple of pizzas on the way home after practice if you want to join me for dinner, Potter. I should have a proper schedule made up by the end of next week and we can settle any meal plans after that."
Harry nodded, mostly relieved to not have to cook anything- living as the Dursleys' personal House Elf for sixteen years had given him a plethora of culinary skills and absolutely no will to want to use them. "That sounds perfect right now. I'll just complete my homework assignments or something until you get home."
Beiste gave him a familiar nod- the kind Kingsley and Moody and Tonks used to share before everything ended- and he watched her jog back to the open soccer field in the middle of the track circle.
The startlingly familiar form of Dave Karofsky- decked out in soccer shorts and a snug-fitting jersey made Harry groan in frustration as he smacked his forehead down against the steering wheel. He wished this didn't happen every time; that he didn't let attraction consume his better judgment and let it drag him straight into emotional attachments.
It had happened with Cho. It had happened with Ginny. It had definitely happened with Cedric- and well, to say that either of those had turned out well would be utterly false.
The drive to his empty basement apartment was silent and for the first time since landing in America, Harry felt lonely. He was orphaned in nearly every sense of the word with the only true family he's ever had sitting separate in two different countries.
He wanted Ron there, to- well definitely not talk about this. Ron wasn't exactly known for his emotional range or his ability to deal with any sort of romantic notions. Ron would be the one to make him laugh, to make it all feel a little less heavy.
Hermione was the one he needed to talk to, with her steadfast knowledge and sharp ear. Without thinking much beyond that need, Harry pulled into the driveway and dug around for his cell phone. He most definitely would not be running up Coach Beiste's telephone bill with calls to Canada and Australia.
Hermione picked up on the fourth ring, just as Harry slammed the door to his apartment shut.
"Hello? Harry?" she said, her voice raspy with sleep. "What's wrong?"
He winced, trying to figure out the time difference. "I'm sorry- did I wake you?"
"It is obscenely early," Hermione muttered, sounding more than a little exasperated. "I thought we were going to conference call on your Friday, my Saturday?"
That was the pact they'd made before being forced apart for a year- weekly telephone calls, even if it was just to listen to each other breathe. Which Ron had pointed out was really rather creepy and co-dependant but neither of them had been willing to face this year without some sort of pre-planned correspondence.
"Am I only allowed to call you on those days?" Harry teased weakly, dropping his knapsack with a thud on the kitchen floor. "Shall I have my people get in contact with your people and set up a schedule?"
"Oh bugger off," Hermione snapped and he could practically see her eye roll in his head the memory was so clear. "It's been naught ten days since we last spoke, surely you can't miss us so much already?"
Harry hummed something vague, reaching down to play at the loose thread on the cuff of his hoodie. He did miss them, although that wasn't exactly the sole reason for his impromptu call.
Hermione grew silent at his non-answer, shifting around and apparently getting comfortable for a long talk. "Tell me what's wrong- you're being pensive; you're only pensive when you're nurturing your disgustingly enormous guilt-complex."
"I'm trying to justify being physically attracted to someone who might not be the most…stand-up person."
It was Hermione's turn to hum at him. "Given the fact that you used 'person' as your descriptor I'm going to hazard a guess that we're talking about a boy."
The silence was telling.
"Has-has there been anyone since Cedric?" she asked, her voice small and unsure.
Harry took a deep, steadying breath. Cedric was a sore spot, even after all this time. He'd realized- days, hours, minutes, seconds- too late just what it was he'd felt with Cedric. What they could have had.
With Cedric he'd jumped too late, with Cho he'd jumped too early and with Ginny, he'd just jumped.
Harry's romantic life seemed to be filled to the brim up the uncharacteristic fault of horrifically bad timing.
"I can't understand it," he admitted quietly. "He's nothing like what we've faced; nothing as heinous as that but what he has done isn't so easily forgiven. So why am I still…"
"I think I have to ask what he's done," Hermione said as he trailed off. "It would be foolish of me to offer any kind of council when I don't even have the proper facts. Is he even interested?"
Harry sighed and settled back onto his couch to share with her everything he knew; the rampant homophobia, the mid-term transfer, Kurt, Blaine, Dave and the impossible way they've thrown themselves together in the unrelenting battlefield that was William McKinley High School.
Hermione kept quiet, only speaking to ask a pointed question or two before prompting Harry back into speech. He trailed off into a lighter, relieved silence and waited for his best friend to process everything he'd all but spewed out onto her lap.
"I think you're being far too hard on yourself," Hermione said after a long moment. Her words were stilted, as if she were choosing them with all the picky delicacy of a politician. "For one, attraction doesn't work the way you seem to think it does. You can't simply look at a 'good' person and decide that their morals correspond enough with yours to make a match. Opposites attract for a reason, you know."
Harry groaned at the clichéd reminder of his parents, for one. Even his best friends' own budding relationship was a tried and true example of opposites coming together to make a perfectly deranged fit.
"Secondly," Hermione continued, obviously ignoring his grave emotional distress, "you've never let the opinions of other people affect you and how you see the world. You've always given everyone the chance to prove their character to you and you've never denied someone a second chance at redemption. I sincerely hope that hasn't changed."
Merlin, now Harry felt absolutely horrible. Guilty and ashamed and somewhat humbled by Hermione's regard for him. "I certainly hope I haven't."
"I'm not saying you have to act on what you're feeling right now," she continued on, obviously gaining momentum. "You haven't even been at school a week and if he's truly as closeted as your friend Kurt has been saying then he's going to have a lot of issues. He's going to be scared, Harry. Not everyone can have your courage."
"Calm down, Hermione," he muttered, feeling somewhat put-out. "I'm obviously not going to jump the guy in the middle of the corridor at lunch. I just- I guess I just needed to be reminded that there are still people in the world who can change. For the better. It's nice."
"Hmm, yes it is rather uplifting, isn't it?" she agreed and Harry could hear the smile in her voice. A muffled noise in the background of the call broke the peaceful calm that had descended upon them. He listened as Hermione turned away from the mouth piece of the telephone to address whoever their conversation had awakened on her end.
"It's my mother- I have to get ready for school," Hermione said sadly. "I do hope it all works out, Harry. Try and stay out of trouble."
Harry scoffed, lifting his free arm up to rub at the back of his head. "I always try to stay out of trouble; it just never works."
She laughed. "Take care. I'll talk to you on Saturday."
"Take care," he murmured into his cell phone before ending the call.
Somehow, the silence in the apartment didn't feel so lonely anymore.
Notes: I'm kind of worried that people might think I'm moving too fast with the Harry/Dave part of the story- which, to each their own, YMMV, whatever- but I do think that Harry's always been someone who learns from his past mistakes and who isn't afraid to go after what he wants.
Also, it's pretty much a physical thing at the moment. They have a strange, magnetic chemistry much to the mutual horror of the both of them. Dave's still dealing with a lot of self-hatred so being attracted to another guy really just feels like another blow to him right now and Harry's more romantic notions of love and attraction are at odds with what he knows is right. Because I can accept Dave's apology on the show and how neatly they seem to be tying up that storyline but I don't think his actions from season two can be so easily swept under the rug and forgotten.
They all need to deal with the fallout of that before they can more forward.
...why does it seem like my notes are growing longer with each part? Dear God.
Thanks for the wonderful reviews and for everyone who has put this story on alert. I'm going to try and get back to updating once a week now that real life has decided to take a nap.