CHAPTER 6
Rachel's heart was beating out of her chest.
In her first year, most people would've sneered at her, called her every name in the book regardless of her status. However, she'd grown up. She ditched the headbands (on weekends), had befriended the most intimidating people in the whole school, and now had the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team wrapped around her little finger.
Which is why she was currently in the hidden corner of the library with said Gryffindor, furiously making out on their shared bench while Kurt had gone to the bathroom.
"We should-" Rachel stuttered between kisses, "-Talk about this-"
Finn froze, backing up quickly, "Sure, yeah, talking sounds good."
"Look," Rachel began professionally, "I'm not about to jeopardise my reputation just because of one guy. I've worked far too hard to get where I am, and I'm not about to let someone dethrone me because of whatever relationship we've initiated."
"Dethrone- No, I get it yeah," Finn quickly corrected himself, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion, "So, uh, what do you want?"
Rachel bit her lip, thinking. On one hand, Finn was cute, really cute. She'd had a crush on him since third year, and he was just so nice. However, on the other hand, she knew that her parents would much rather prefer her dating someone like Jesse, someone with family history and a reputation that would carry her through the rest of her life. But… She'd always been one to believe in true love, regardless of social class or blood purity or whatever else she'd grown up to believe in.
"I don't know," Rachel concluded, "But can we just keep this between us? I don't want to parade myself around the school quite yet."
"Sure," Finn smiled, "But do you want to tell Kurt at least? Just because he's you're best friend or something, of course."
"No," Rachel shook her head, "He wouldn't understand."
Kurt didn't quite know what to do.
He was sat in the Great Hall surrounded by his friends that morning, but none of them were talking. It was as if they all knew what the first task for The Order meant, and no one was ready to talk about it. Instead, they all ate their breakfast in silence. Even Santana.
Kurt didn't want to hurt anyone, but he didn't dare defy the Order either. He'd been trying to think of ways around the task all night. The Hospital Wing had been a good idea, but he had no way of knowing if any of the blood stored was specifically half-blood or muggle-born blood. Instead, he'd had to think of other options. Maybe he could get it imported, or as his grandfather.
But he knew that wasn't what the task was for. They wanted him to hurt someone. To take their blood and make sure they knew that they were inferior. And despite being The Order, Kurt didn't quite know how he felt about that.
A few weeks ago, Kurt would have completed the task with no problems whatsoever. However, something had changed. Something had shifted inside him, and he didn't know what to do.
"Okay, I'm done with this," Santana blurted out, her cutlery cluttering onto her plate, "Have you guys done it yet?"
"Pardon?" Kurt asked innocently, keeping his voice low.
"Have you guys done the task yet?" Santana asked, leaning towards the small huddle around the table.
Quinn and Rachel nodded solemnly, keeping their eyes low. Santana turned to Kurt, "You, Lady-lips?"
"Not yet," Kurt admitted, "I haven't had the, well, opportunity."
"Time's ticking," was all Rachel added as James slid onto the seat next to Kurt, a green thermos in his hands.
"Morning fellow Slytherins," James beamed, earning himself a glare from both Santana and Kurt, "Can I trouble anyone for some tea?"
"Excuse me?" Kurt asked, raising his eyebrow.
James rolled his eyes, "I haven't poisoned it or anything."
"You holding it poisons it," Kurt bit back with a glare.
James' smirk got bigger, "Oh come on darling, I'm only trying to be civil."
Kurt rolled his eyes once again, it having become a habit, "You? Being civil? Not a chance in hell."
The two continued bickering, not realising that a certain dark-haired Hufflepuff was watching them from across the hall, dreamily watching Kurt with puppy dog eyes. He was only shaken from his daydream when Sam nudged him, a pointed look on his face.
"Nope," Sam scolded, "You're not doing this."
"It doesn't hurt to look," Blaine grumbled, finally tearing his eyes away from the two Slytherins.
"Yes, it does," Tina retorted, having decided to sit with her Hufflepuff friends that morning, "Come on Blaine, you can't lose yourself to a fantasy."
"You could always go for someone else," Sam continued, "How about Luke Wright? He's the Gryffindor Chaser and-"
"No thanks," Blaine announced, pushing his plate away from him as he stood up, "I'm going to class. Are you guys coming?"
Santana Lopez was smoking hot.
And no, that wasn't an opinion. It was a fact.
She descended from a long line of terrifyingly gorgeous witches, with words sharper than their hexes. She was raised to be a strong, independent Latina witch, the Lopez blood coursing through her veins. No one could talk down to her. No one could step on her.
But then, she met Brittany.
Brittany was sunshine and rainbows. She was like the smell of birthday cake on the morning of your birthday. She was magical in more ways than Santana could ever be, and she would never admit it out loud, but she had slowly been falling in love with the blonde Hufflepuff girl.
And she was absolutely screwed.
No one could push a Lopez around. But Brittany… Well, one glance from her and Santana was gone.
And she was so, so screwed.
Santana wasn't exactly in the closet, but it wasn't exactly public knowledge either. She still enjoyed making out with boys, but most of the time they were just… Well, nothing like Brittany. And Santana would happily forfeit her weekly make-out sessions with Sebastian Smythe if it meant she could skip down the Hogwarts halls with Brittany by her side, but there was just one, simple problem;
Brittany wasn't exactly the Lopez type. She was a half-blood, with a muggle father and a squib mother.
Brittany was, for lack of better words, considered inferior to Santana, despite being kinder, gentler… All the things Santana had been taught not to be. Brittany stirred something in the Lopez girl, and she didn't quite know what to do about it.
And so, after collecting a generous vial of mudblood blood from Ethan Moore (a Hufflepuff with a tendency to forget), Santana marched to the library to find some sort of hex to rid her of all of these disgusting feelings. She was sure that her great aunt had mentioned something about a potion once-
"Well… Hello."
Santana turned on her heel to be met face-to-face with none other than the newest addition to the Gryffindor Quidditch team; Dani.
Dani was a fierce player from what Santana had heard, with a mischievous glint in her eyes despite the proud nature of her house. She'd transferred just at the beginning of Santana's fifth year, mostly staying off her radar. Well, until now.
"Can I help you?"
Dani hummed playfully, taking a few steps towards Santana, "I mean, I wouldn't call it help exactly…"
Santana frowned. Was this girl hitting on her? Was she brain-dead? To hit on a Lopez of all people?
"Spit it out," Santana snapped, crossing her arms, not missing Dani's glance to her chest.
"You're hot," Dani shrugged, "I'm hot. We're hot, and something tells me that those little rumours I'm hearing about you and Smythe don't exactly… Hit you right."
"Excuse me?!"
"I'm offering dinner," Dani shrugged, leaning against the corridor brick wall, "I won't lie - I've had a crush on you since you hexed Luke last year. This is just… Me putting myself out there, I guess."
"Pretty morbid to talk about your teammate like that," Santana pointed out, suddenly intrigued by this girl.
Dani smirked, "Let's be honest; I'm a better Chaser anyway."
Okay, so Dani was hot. She was all kinds of mysterious and poised, and was clearly showing interest in her. Santana was also sure she'd seen Dani receive one of the Blood Order roses, meaning she must be a pureblood with some pretty important relatives.
…But she was no Brittany.
"I don't date," Santana stated simply, shocked to see Dani's smirk twist into a bigger smile.
"Then let me be the exception."
Kurt was running out of time. He had the rest of the day left to somehow procure a vial of muggle-born blood and burn the damned card. He felt like a kid stuck in a maze with no way out. He didn't want to hurt anyone, but he really, really needed the Blood Order. For his family legacy.
He knew that Santana had hexed a Hufflepuff kid into forgetting she'd even laid a finger on him, but Kurt didn't have the same inherited abilities as Santana. Rachel had revealed that she'd asked one of the first years for a vial of blood to experiment with potion-making. which they were far too young to understand. Quinn, however, had refused to say a single syllable on her methods.
Which left Kurt to his own devices. Time was ticking, and he knew he could just take it, but he didn't want to be that man. He was cunning - he was sure he could find another way-
And that's when it hit him.
"I won't lie; I didn't think you had the balls to do it," Santana commented to Kurt as the Slytherin quartet sat around their common room fire place once more, cards and vials in hand.
Kurt shrugged. They didn't need to know that Miss Pillsbury had allowed him to help her with some blood tests earlier that day. And thankfully, he had enough knowledge on the student body to pinpoint exactly who came from what bloodline. "Did you think I was going soft, Miss Lopez?"
Santana grinned, "Never, Mister Vinson."
"Can you two stop your weird flirting and get on with it?" Rachel demanded, looking at the dark oak grandfather clock on the far wall of the common room, "We have ten minutes left."
"Well, it's now or never," Quinn sighed, "You guys ready?"
Kurt nodded automatically, the other girls following suit. Kurt scanned the red card in front of him, the silver writing dancing, reflecting the flames from the fireplace. As much as he'd love to put the card in the bin and forget this had ever happened… He couldn't. He had to do this.
Quinn was the first to drop her card in the fireplace, followed by the other two girls. Kurt only hesitated for a moment before following suit, but he knew that Quinn had noticed the quiver in his hand. Nevertheless, he did it.
And for a few moments, everything was fine. Nothing changed as the four settled back on the soft pillows of the green Slytherin couches. They sat in silence, confused, the vials still on the floor in front of the fire.
And then it started.
For Kurt, his vision blurred first, the dark colours of the common room blending into what seemed to be a haunting mass of darkness. He count hear the shrieks of his friends as his hands began shaking, his knees colliding with the floor as his head too started to burn. Then came his throat. It was as if something had sucked all the moisture out of his body, his lungs screaming and his throat burning for something, anything.
Suddenly, a sickening feeling fell to the pit of his stomach as he realised what the blood was really for.
With no choice left, Kurt stumbled to his hands and knees, reaching to the vials at the front of the fire. He found his vial easily, but that made it no easier to complete the task. In the dim lighting of the fire, he could hazily see the girls doing the same, Quinn drinking the vial without a second thought.
Kurt opened the vial, the deep red of the blood the only clear thing in the room. With his eyes closed tight, he put his mouth to the vial.
The Slytherin Prince drank.
A/N: With quarantine comes inspiration.