We just want to point out that this story takes place in the year 2010, before the whole JK Rolling controversy began. While we strongly disagree with her views on the Trans population and her grievances with the LGBTQ+ community, we both realize that Darren and Chris are both Potter fans, and acknowledge that here in this story. We discussed it, and agree that it is possible to separate the literature from the author in this instance. Please take our comments in the spirit they were intended, and not view them as our approval of her behavior.

Chapter Twenty One

Ethan stood at the window, watching a yellow bird build a nest in the branch that hung just below his sill. In his hand was a flat, black box, about four inches by four inches in size. He had been debating with himself whether he was actually going to do this or not. He had tried to lock away his feelings, but there were just too many of them for the emotion cage to hold.

Movement below the tree caught his eye, and he spotted Devon walking across the grounds, head buried in a book, when one of the human boys stopped him and handed him what appeared to be an envelope. Ethan frowned. Yet another of Devon's admirers passing him a love note, no doubt.

A single solitary tear rolled down Ethan's cheek and his hands shook. Maybe he shouldn't go through this after all. Devon had plenty of much more eligible suitors. It didn't matter that they'd grown up together, that they were as close as two friends could be. He watched as Devon opened the envelope and pulled out the small card inside. He could see the smile bloom on the other boy's face, and felt his heart ache, knowing that he would never be the one to put that kind of smile on Devon's face. He turned away from the window and dropped the box on his desk.

He buried his face in his hands, trying to suppress the sobs wanting to come out, to let go of the anguish of not having Devon in his arms the way he wanted. He tried, he tried so hard to just be happy that they were such close friends. The only thing worse than not having Devon love him, was not having him in his life at all.

…

Devon reread the poem he'd just discovered, longing to show it to Ethan, knowing it would tell the other boy exactly how he felt about him, but didn't have the courage, afraid it would drive a wedge between them. Ethan would never feel the same way about him that he felt for the other boy.

He wasn't really paying attention to where he was going. It was Halloween, but the day was unseasonably warm, and he'd decided to take a walk, enjoying the sunshine on his face as he read the book of poems. When someone called his name, he almost didn't hear them, until they were right in front of him.

"Someone asked me to deliver this to you, Devon." The younger human boy held out a small envelope.

"Thank you, Laurence." He took the offered item and waited for the boy to rush off again before opening it and pulling out the card inside.

My dearest Devon,

Meet me in the west wing tonight at midnight. I've found a most fascinating rune I think you will be interested in.

Yours,

Ethan

Devon smiled, tracing his thumb over the word 'dearest,' feeling his heart swell at the endearment. Of course he knew Ethan didn't mean it in the way he would have liked, but it didn't stop his heart from skipping a beat whenever the other boy used it. He glanced up towards the window to Ethan's room, and for a moment, could have sworn someone had been standing there, but it must have been his imagination, as a small yellow bird took flight from the branch just below the window.

Devon clutched the card to his chest, cherishing it like it was his most precious possession. He couldn't wait to meet Ethan at midnight. Perhaps he might just work up enough courage to tell him the truth, even if he knew the other boy would not reciprocate. But he couldn't get the 'dearest' out of his head. It only made him fall deeper for his best friend.

…

Kurt opened his eyes slowly. His head felt like it was filled with cotton or wool, and his mind was blank. He couldn't seem to muster up any kind of emotion or thoughts. Just staring straight ahead at the beam of later afternoon sunlight that shone through the window, slowly fading away as the sun sank lower on the horizon.

He became aware of a weight around his middle and cast his eyes down to see someone's arm wrapped tightly around him. He realized the arm was attached to a warm body curled around his backside and he felt his cheeks flush. Was Blaine really wrapped around him or was he dreaming?

He heard voices speaking softly nearby, and realized the others were all gathered in the room with them. He heard Wes say that his father was safe, and felt a weight lift off his shoulders, closing his eyes to fight back the tears.

He didn't dare move though, not wanting to call attention to himself. He still wasn't interested in talking about it, any of it. Maybe he hadn't been thinking rationally, but what else was he supposed to do? His father was all he had left in this world. Well, there was Jackie, but Kurt couldn't imagine having to leave here to live with her, and he knew she couldn't live in Ohio. He wouldn't even ask her if she could.

Blaine shifted behind him, and he thought the other boy murmured the word 'dearest,' but he couldn't be sure.

Kurt lay still, not wanting to move, both for fear of disturbing Blaine and losing his warm embrace, and of drawing the attention of the others, which he really didn't want right then. As he lay there, as still as he could be, the memory of the dream he'd just had slowly came back to him. What was in the box Ethan had been holding? And what had become of it?

The last he knew was that Ethan had dropped it on his desk. Kurt's eyes roamed across the room to the desk, but it was, of course, empty. It had all felt so real though. Like he was actually Ethan. It dawned on him at that moment that forty eight hours had passed since Thad had given him the potion to suppress his powers, and that the dream had more than likely been a memory. What was it then? Incognitive dreaming? Kurt turned his head slightly to try and see more of Blaine. Had their powers somehow combined to create that dream, which seemed to be both prophetic and a memory?

Blaine shifted behind him again, his grip tightening on Kurt until it was almost painful, but the pale boy didn't make a noise or give any indication of his discomfort. Instead, he just lay there, eyes shut, and taking in the presence of Blaine's body behind him, holding him. Gaga how it felt like he was in the right place.

Unaware of the two boys on the bed, the others continued their discussion. Emma had wanted to examine the vessel, but found she couldn't touch it. "It appears to be repelling my touch. Has anyone other than Kurt or Blaine handled it at all?"

The others all glanced at each other, none of them having realized until that moment that no, no one else had handled it.

"I don't think so," Wes said, shaking his head. "Does anyone remember touching the vessel?"

"I did," Trent said. "The other night when Kurt was in the trance, I took the vessel from him and set it on the chair."

"He's right," Nick said. "He gently pried it out of Kurt's hands."

Emma frowned and glanced at the boy in question. "Have you touched it since?"

Trent shook his head. "No. None of us have."

She nodded. "Would you try touching it now, please?"

The young witch moved towards the vessel and reached out for it as she had asked. When his fingers were about a quarter of an inch away, he pulled back, shaking his hands. "It feels like ants crawling on my hands!" he said in surprise.

"You managed to get closer to the vessel than I did," Emma said. "For me it felt more like a barrier between it and myself."

"So, is it like safeguarding itself against anyone who isn't Kurt or Blaine?" Wes asked.

Trent frowned. "I was able to make direct contact with it the other night, though. Why can't I touch it now?"

Beatz was also frowning. Before anyone could answer Trent, he had a question of his own. "Is it just me, or is the black a little more prominent than it used to be?" he said.

"It is. Because," Emma explained, "it is waking up."

"What is waking up exactly?" Wes asked, fearful of the answer.

She looked him directly in the eye. "The demon."

…

Kurt didn't recall falling back to sleep, but the next thing he remembered was the flickering of a candle in the dark room. He could still feel Blaine snuggled behind him, but knew it hadn't been the shorter boy that had pulled him from sleep, nor was it the sound of Thad's soft snore coming from the couch. Carefully, he slipped out of Blaine's hold and sat up, trying to figure out what had woken him.

A barely audible sound was coming from the chair beside the bed, where the demon vessel rested. Kurt stood and moved around the bed to kneel in front of the chair to try and hear it better. It was chanting, just like that first day he had come to Dalton. Was this the spell Wes had heard? It was much too faint for Kurt to make out the exact words, and he leaned closer to hear better.

Suddenly he felt a strong breeze rush past him, and realized it was coming from the demon vessel itself. Neither Blaine or Thad seemed to feel the breeze that rushed around the room, both still sound asleep.

The flame of the candle on the mantelpiece flickered and went out, but rather than plunging the room into complete darkness, the room was suddenly bathed in late afternoon sunlight.

"Who are you?" a startled voice cried out, causing Kurt to stand abruptly and turn toward the voice. The boy standing on the other side of the empty bed was the same height as Kurt, with auburn hair, and startling blue/green/gray eyes.

"Ethan?" Kurt said, surprised.

The other had a duplicate look of shock on his face. "What manner of trickery is this? Are you a doppelganger? Or are you using some form of glamour to disguise yourself as me?"

Kurt could only shake his head. "You can see me?"

"What, am I blind? Of course I can see you! Now answer my question, who are you? I have magic and I'm not afraid to use it."

"This isn't a memory," Kurt said to himself, shaking his head, looking around the room in confusion. It looked just the same as it had the first time he had stepped foot into the room.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Ethan said. "Who are you?"

"You probably aren't going to believe me, but I'm your great great nephew. I'm not exactly certain what is happening here." He paused and frowned. "Wait, what is the date today?"

Ethan raised an eyebrow, an expression that had Kurt shivering. It was weird to see that expression on his own face practically. "October 31st," the other boy said, sounding like he thought Kurt must be delusional if he didn't know the date.

Kurt stood up straighter. "1901?"

"What year did you think it was? 2010?"

"Well, actually…" Kurt began, but just shook his head. "Look, I don't know if this is some kind of dream I'm having, or if one of my other powers is kicking in, but I need to warn you about something. Whatever happens, don't let Devon go to the west wing. He thinks it is you, but it's not!"

Ethan rolled his eyes, clearly trying to cover the pain he was feeling. "Devon got a card from some admirer. It's not my place to stop him from seeing the boy."

Kurt pulled at his hair in frustration. "He thinks the card came from you!"

"What? How do you know that?"

Kurt opened his mouth to reply, but something came rattling down the fireplace just then, and began filling the room with thick black smoke. Both boys began to choke, and Ethan began to flail around as he was temporarily blinded. Kurt began to feel dizzy, as a breeze once again began to rush around the room. Just before everything turned dark, he saw Ethan pass out on the floor.

Kurt blinked his eyes open, trying to see in the sudden darkness. There was no smoke in the room, and the candle had gone out. What had just happened?

Light slowly began to filter in through the window as the sun began to rise. The boy sat up and glanced over at the fireplace. What had that been? What was that thick black smoke? If someone had gotten it in before, would they be able to do it again?

"Oh no," he whispered. Frantically, scrambling to his feet, he ran over to the couch where Thad was sleeping and shook him as hard as he dared. This was serious.

Thad snorted loudly and almost fell off the couch. "What? What's going on?"

"Thad, we need to get out of this room. I don't think Blaine and I are safe in here anymore," Kurt said, starting to pace the room, not caring that it was literally the crack of dawn.

"What?" Thad said, still not completely awake. "Why do you say that?"

Kurt turned and pointed at the fireplace. "I think dark magic can get in through the fireplace. It's already happened once before."

The other boy sat up. "When? What are you talking about, Kurt?"

"I don't know!" he said, pulling at his hair. "I don't know what happened, but I was just face to face with Ethan and I was trying to tell him he needed to stop Devon from going to the west wing. And then this thick black smoke billowed in from the fireplace and the last thing I saw before I was back here, was Ethan passing out on the floor."

The older boy still looked confused. "You saw another memory?"

Kurt shook his head. "I don't think it was a memory. Ethan could see me. He could talk to me and I could talk to him. And he said it was Halloween, 1901."

Thad finally looked more awake as he considered the pale boy. "I'm going to call Wes."

The Circle leader arrived about fifteen minutes later, with Jackie accompanying him. Wes frowned when he noticed Blaine still sound asleep on the bed. "I thought he was better. Why is he still asleep?"

"First of all, it's like the crack of ass right now," Thad said. "Secondly, Blaine's just emotionally drained. You didn't see how worked up he was when he realized Kurt was no longer in the room."

Wes just shrugged it off. "So, you saw another memory?" he asked Kurt.

Kurt let out a frustrated breath. "It wasn't a memory! You can't actually talk to people in memories!"

Jackie moved forward and took his arm gently, guiding him into the chair in front of the desk. "Relax, dear, and tell us what happened."

"I saw Ethan. I talked to Ethan. He's even more of a bitch than me! But that's not important. I tried to tell him not to let Devon go to the west wing. And then some thick black smoke came billowing out of the fireplace and the last thing I saw was Ethan passing out on the floor."

Jackie frowned and stood up straighter, turning to look at the fireplace. She moved forward and placed her hand on the stone, and concentrated. "He's right. Someone cast a sleep spell, and sent it down the chimney."

Wes frowned. "How do you know that?"

She glanced over her shoulder at him. "Memories are just energy. Energy can be embedded into the walls and objects around us."

"But how was he able to talk to Ethan?" Wes said.

Jackie shrugged and moved back to stand in front of Kurt. "Tell us exactly what you remember, darling."

Kurt sighed. "I woke up, I'm not sure why. And then I noticed a faint sound coming from the vessel, so I got closer to try and hear it. It sounded like that same chanting from the first day I came to Dalton, but it was so faint I couldn't really make it out. I leaned closer, and suddenly there was a breeze rushing through the room. Neither Blaine or Thad seemed to notice it, and then the candle blew out. Next thing I knew, it was late afternoon, and Ethan was demanding to know who I was and why I was in his room, and how I looked exactly like him."

Jackie reached for one of his hands and patted it gently. "What happened then, dear?"

Kurt sighed. "Just what I said, I was trying to warn him about Devon and the west wing, when we heard something come down the chimney, and the room filled with thick black smoke. That was when I ended up back here in the present."

"I don't get it," Wes said. "If it wasn't a memory, what was it?"

"I think we need Trent," someone said and they all turned to see Blaine sitting up in the bed. None of them had even noticed he was awake.

"Welcome back to the land of the living," Wes quipped as he pulled his phone from his pocket to text the younger witch.

…

"Dream walking," Trent said, after hearing the retailing of the morning's events. "Why am I not surprised to learn Kurt has yet another power?"

"Dream walking?" Thad said. "What is dream walking? And how was that a dream if it was set in something that actually happened?"

Trent frowned at the other boy. "Dream walking means that while Kurt's physical body remained here, basically asleep, his consciousness moved out of his corporeal shell, and moved through time and space. In this instance, he found himself in the same place, but a different time."

Wes was frowning. "Why does that ability sound familiar?"

Trent let out a long suffering sigh. "Don't any of you ever study anything outside your Line's magical abilities? Dream Walking was the familial power of the Dalton Line."

"That's why it sounds familiar," Wes said. "But how in the world did Kurt get it?"

"At this point," Thad said, "I'm willing to say, Kurt has every ability known to witchkind."

Jackie shook her head. "Not every ability. I had a friend of mine do a bit of research. Fire mastery and the ability to create dimensional pockets aren't just rare abilities. They are abilities that once belonged to family Lines that have died out."

"You mean like he's revising powers that are long gone somehow?" Wes said.

Jackie nodded. "I believe so. Magic will do what it must to survive. When a magical Line dies out, the magic is only dormant, not gone. I think Kurt's unique status as an only child of two seventh children of seventh children has turned him into some kind of magnet for dormant magic."

"That's crazy," Thad said, looking at Kurt with a slight essence of awe. "How many more powers are we going to learn that he has?"

Jackie looked at him and shrugged. "How many magical Lines have died out over the millennia? We lost hundreds of Lines during the massacres in Europe alone. And you know the history of my Circle."

For a moment, they all just stared at Kurt, some in disbelief. "Okay, stop looking at him like he's an exhibit in an art museum," Blaine scolded, reaching out a hand to pull Kurt back towards the bed.

Kurt was grateful for Blaine's intervention. While he didn't mind being the center of attention for the right reasons, at that moment he just felt like a freak of nature. "Thank you," he murmured softly so only Blaine could hear him.

"You're beautiful," Blaine murmured back, without even thinking about it. Both boys blushed softly.

Wes cleared his throat. "If what Jackie says is true, then I suspect that Kurt may never fully consciously be in control of his powers. I think he will always react on instinct. That's not to say he won't always be unaware of his powers. He will eventually learn to realize when he is using them, and may even be able to control some of them, but for the most part, he will always be led by his magic."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Kurt asked, feeling a little warm from Blaine's comment.

Jackie shrugged. "It's neither. It just means the Goddess has chosen to work through you, as her chosen vassal."

Kurt frowned. The word was familiar, he'd studied Charlemagne, but he didn't understand what it meant. "What exactly does that mean?"

Wes supplied the definition. "It's old English, it means a person who is under the protection of a noble or royal, who is usually their representative, or in the case of combatants, their champion in one on one combat."

Kurt was glad he was already sitting. "So basically, I'm like...I don't know." he said dropping his head onto Blaine's shoulder. "I didn't ask for any of this. Now I feel like Harry Potter. With the weight of the entire wizarding world on my shoulders or something."

There was a moment of silence, and then nearly everyone in the room burst into giggles.

"Sorry, dear," Jackie said. "That was just a touch overly dramatic. You aren't exactly up against Lord Voldermort here."

Kurt stared at her for a moment. "No offense, Jackie, but I wouldn't have thought you would be familiar with the details of Harry Potter."

She smiled at him. "I love reading, and I always find it amusing when humans write about us, thinking they know all our secrets and spells. I must admit, The Potter books have actually come fairly close in some cases."

"What cases?" Kurt asked, somewhat stunned. Blaine was rubbing his back gently as the taller boy refused to lift his head.

"Well, obviously there are no such things as trolls, goblins and house elves, although I would love to have one of those. Of course I would treat them much more kindly than they were treated in the books, but still, I digress. Some of the spells Hermione uses come straight from some of our oldest grimoires. Makes me wonder if the author was a confidant of one of us."

"It's interesting that she went a different direction with the entire world then," Wes said. "I mean, it's not actually against our laws to tell people about us."

Blaine shrugged. "Maybe she did it to make it sound more interesting and glamorous. If you think of the reality of our world, it's not really as appealing as Harry Potter makes it seem. We're much more normal and in tune with human reality than that."

"Yeah," Kurt said, 'but our forefathers did basically build Hogwarts here."

There was another beat, before everyone again was laughing.

"Except for the fact that Hogwarts didn't cater to muggles," Blaine said.

"True," Kurt admitted. "So, a more progressive Hogwarts, then."

"Sounds about right," Blaine said, smiling at the taller boy. Kurt was again visited by the urge to kiss him, but he refrained. If he was going to kiss Blaine, he wanted the moment to be special and not with all these other people in the room.

There was a short knock on the door, and David poked his head inside. "Good, you're all here. I think I've finished the focus spell. There's just one problem."

Wes frowned. "What's the problem, David?"

"The spell will only work on the anniversary of Ethan and Devon's disappearance."

"Well shit," Kurt said. "That won't give us a lot of time."

"Guess it means we'll all be getting up at the crack of ass again," Thad said, yawning.

Kurt was frowning as he remembered something. "What about the black smoke? If Andrew used it before, he could use it again. It may not be safe in here for Blaine and me anymore."

Wes frowned. "We need a room that Andrew won't be able to get to."

David looked up. "What about Dalton's hidden apartment?" he said.

Wes looked up at him and smiled. "You're a genius! The Smythes never knew about it!"

David smiled back at him, a gleam in his eye. "Of course they didn't. It's normally a Founders Line's only secret," he said. "Plus, it will be like Kurt and Blaine have their own apartment and they won't be stuck to just one room."

"You couldn't have thought of that a week ago?" Kurt snarked.

"A week ago we were trying to think fast, just to get Blaine out," Wes said. "We didn't have time to consider the options."

Kurt rolled his eyes, and reluctantly got up. "Fine. I'm going to shower and change my clothes, and then you can show us to this secret abode."