All Or Nothing

Disclaimer: I don't own 'Glee' or 'Harry Potter'. All recognisable characters, content or locations belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.

Summary: With Matt gone, and Sam reluctant, the New Directions are in need of a new member. Queue Harry Potter stage left, William McKinley's star striker, whose probably as talented as he is charismatic, and just as attractive too. No Magic AU.

Rating: M for language, mild adult themes, alcohol and drug use and schoolyard violence. You've been warned.

Author: tlyxor1.

All Or Nothing

Chapter One:

"Think Coach is thrilled about the budget cut?"

In response to Neville 'Frankie' Longbottom's question, Harry Potter scoffed his derision, stretched his arms over his head, and squinted his gaze towards the bleachers. Their coach was there, red faced and fuming, and in the midst of a heated argument with the new football coach, who seemed as intimidating as Hooper himself.

"Fat chance, dude." He shook his head, carted a hand through his hair, and directed his team to begin their warmup laps. It paid to be team captain, and the coach expected the responsibility from Harry, if nothing else, and Harry had promised himself, his father, and his coach that he'd not disappoint.

He'd had enough disappointment in his life already, after all, and he had no desire to start adding to that mess himself.

Eventually, Coach finished his exchange with Coach Beiste, ran them through a gruelling, absolutely merciless, two hour calisthenic workshop, and sent them off to the locker room afterwards, with word that they'd better start picking up the slack, or risk being benched for the first games of the season.

Training had started only the week before, with the freshman's benched as reserves, and the starting team already allocated, and Coach Hooper had been brutal. He was determined to win a third consecutive Championship game but beyond that, he was more determined to see the team become the best they could be, and he was accepting no weakness in the process.

"Is it his time of the month, or something?" Sean Finnigan grunted on their way there, "He's more uptight than usual."

"Budget cuts," Dean Thomas explained laconically, and Harry just thanked God that Coach had made his way to the other end of the field.

Harry, once he'd helped Coach Hooper clear away the training equipment, followed his team into the locker room, saw that it was mostly deserted, and took advantage of the empty showers to take his time. Classes would start in half an hour though, so he finished up with the efficiency of longtime practise, dressed himself in jeans, one of his usual t-shirts, and red converse sneakers, towel dried his hair, applied some deodorant, and gathered up his things to leave.

Harry couldn't know that as he'd been singing 'Sweet Child of Mine' to the audience of his shower head, Finn Hudson, who'd been pinning up Glee Club fliers on the locker room's notice board, had liked what he, too, had inadvertently heard, and was now determined to see him join the Glee Club, come hell or high-water.

Instead, an oblivious Harry had made his way down the school corridor, greeted his classmates and smiled at those who caught his eye, had stopped briefly at his locker to exchange training gear for class supplies, and had settled comfortably in his empty AP English homeroom to wile away the time before the morning bell sounded. As he did so, Harry withdrew his music journal from his backpack, uncapped his pen, and scrawled out the melody and lyrics that had been ringing around his head all morning.

I've never seen a smile that can light a room like yours

It's simply radiant, I feel more with every day that goes by

I watch the clock to make my timing just right, would it be okay

Would it be okay if I took your breath away?

The morning bell blared, Harry returned his journal to his bag, and withdrew his English notebook, and that semester's reading syllabus in preparation for class. He didn't have to concern himself with any of his neanderthal classmates for the next hour, confident in the knowledge that the only other people in junior level AP English were those classmates just as committed to their education as Harry himself was to his own.

And so Harry's day passed as it normally would. He attended his classes, ate lunch with his team, and attended his afternoon classes afterwards, also without incident. He'd been assigned a depressingly high pile of homework that would take him hours to complete, such was life as an AP, honour roll student, but before he could yet make a start on it, he had a closing shift at his taciturn father's restaurant to look forward to.

With a grimace at the thought - it would be another long day - Harry shouldered his duffel and messenger bags, carted a hand through his hair, and made his way towards the parking lot. He was intercepted halfway there by Finn Hudson, whom, for all his height, was as intimidating as a baby labrador, and perhaps just as lanky.

"Hey, Potter," Hudson greeted, "Can I talk to you?"

Harry glanced at his watch, a simple alternative to the rather expensive Calvin Klein piece his mother had used to bribe him for his forgiveness, and one still kept in it's box, primarily due to the bitterness it raised whenever he thought much about it.

In truth though, Harry had long gotten used to Lily Potter's estrangement from his life, and he'd long ago stopped expecting anything from the woman, who'd run off with Raphael (or rather, the man Harry not so fondly called her Columbian cabana boy) when Harry was ten, without even a 'by your leave' for the husband, sons and daughter she'd left behind.

"You'd better make it quick," he answered, "I have to be at work in half an hour."

The former quarterback shook his head, and answered, "Never mind, then. It can wait."

"Whatever," Harry answered, brushed passed his taller classmate, and made his way to the parking lot.

Once there, Harry was unsurprised to find that his freshman sister, Vick, was leant up against the passenger seat, her auburn ponytail tinted red and gold in the autumn sun. He unlocked the doors, she clambered inside, and once he'd deposited his bags in the trunk, he followed suit on the driver's side, ignited the engine, and pulled out of the lot. Vick fiddled with the radio dials a moment, plugged her iPod into the auxiliary port, and the Beatles filtered from the speakers and, as per usual, Victoria began to fast forward through tracks like an attention Deficit disc jockey.

Harry sighed, resigned. "Please don't skip songs, Vick. I can't deal with that shit today."

He dropped her off at home just as Angus and Jude were dropped off by their car pool lady, Harry ensured that they made it inside, and continued on his way to the restaurant.

At the restaurant, named Scarlett's, Harry donned his work shirt and an apron, tied his bandana around his head and set to work frying burger patties. The place sold 'gourmet' burgers that were worth every dollar spent, made fresh and whatever, but like most of his coworkers, they soon lost their appeal to Harry after so many shifts spent making them.

Eventually though, his shift came to an end, and Harry made his way home. His siblings were already dead to the world, but his dad was watching Jimmy Kimmel, turned down low, and apparently to pass the time until Harry got home. He joined Harry in the kitchen, and they sat in companionable silence as the teenager chowed down on the potato bake, rosemary chicken and vegetables his father had prepared and left for him in the microwave.

"Your mother sent you and your siblings some packages for the start of the school year," James informed his son, "Yours is on your bed."

Harry's lips pulled up in a grimace of displeasure, but he nodded his acknowledgement all the same, and wondered if his mother got him more Teenaged Mutant Ninja Turtle themed paraphernalia that he'd actually grown out of years ago, and honestly couldn't stand the sight of now. Then again, she seemed to have resorted to bribes of the extravagant variety these days, so it was more likely that she'd have given him a pair of Armani sunglasses, or some such, than the childish things from years passed.

"What did she get the others?" He queried.

"Vick got some makeup and your brothers each received a Nintendo 3DS."

"She seems to have outdone herself," he deadpanned, and James' smile was bitter. Harry wondered if his father still loved the woman and he hoped, for James' sake, that the answer was 'no'. "Does she intend to 'visit' again?"

"I don't think so," James replied, "Not after how… disastrous last time turned out."

Last time had seen Lily's lover, Raphael, in lock up, had seen Harry and Victoria lock themselves in their respective bedrooms, and had seen James and Lily get into a blow up sort of arguments that left all of their past ones in the dust. Both Lily and Raphael had been gone by morning, and Harry had been glad to see them go, and he'd not been the only one.

"Good," Harry acknowledged, got to his feet, and took a moment to wash up his used plate, silverware and drinking glass. "See you in the morning, Dad."

"Night, Harry," James answered. "Sleep well."

"Yeah," he acknowledged, "You too."

Harry retreated upstairs and into his attic-turned loft bedroom, dropped gracelessly into his bed, and thanked God that it was Friday, and grimaced at the thought of all the homework he had to look forward to the following day. He fell asleep quickly though, dreamt of nothing, and by the time Monday rolled around, he'd completed all of the work he'd had to, and then some, and was rearing for another monotonous week at William McKinley High.