Chapter 7
Finn was in a pickle.
When his mother had first remarried, Finn had been upset. He missed his dad, and would for the rest of his life, and he couldn't see himself moving on anytime soon. However, if Burt made his mother happy, then he eventually came to terms with their union, especially after Burt had taken him to all of those Quidditch games over the summer. Apparently, Burt had once been the caretaker for the Quidditch World Cup equipment, which gave him a surprising amount of leverage with the ticket box office.
The more time he'd spent with his new step-father, the more they talked. Finn told him about his childhood and his time at Hogwarts, while Burt told him about his late wife, Elizabeth Hummel. Except, Finn later found out that Elizabeth Hummel was also Elizabeth Vinson, Kurt Vinson's late mother.
Which made Burt his father, and Finn his step-brother.
But before Finn could get carried away, Burt had regrettably informed him that, although Kurt was his son, he hadn't seen him in years. He'd been adopted by the Vinsons soon after Elizabeths death, and despite the initial agreement from Burt's part, he still missed his son dearly, and regretted not watching him grow up and help shape him as a young wizard.
And suddenly, Finn had the best idea he'd ever had.
Burt applied for the job of caretaker in Hogwarts after a simple suggestion from Finn, whilst Finn spent the first week of his Sixth year desperately trying to spend time with his newly-discovered step-brother. He asked him for homework help, revision help… Everything! But he still couldn't reach Kurt, not really. Kurt Vinson had walls higher than the Hogwarts castle built around his heart.
And then came Rachel. Annoying, bossy Rachel Berry. Otherwise known as Kurt's best friend, and a sure-fire way to get into his good graces.
Puck, his best friend, had the initial idea after Finn had confided in him. Finn was to date Rachel to get closer to Kurt, and eventually, bring his new family together. He knew Kurt had some good in him. He could see Burt's kindness and understanding in Kurt's eyes, but he just had to find some way to unlock it.
But now, here he was. In a secret relationship he didn't want to be in, with none other than Rachel Berry. Doomed to be her library make-out every Friday evening before her Prefect patrolling duties. And he was nowhere near closer to befriending the Slytherin Prince.
And now, a month before the Winter Ball (because yes, Figgins was making it happen), Finn was stuck asking out Rachel Berry, when in reality, he'd been after a different Slytherin this whole time.
And no, he wasn't just talking about Kurt.
Quinn Fabray had every boy pining after her. She was gorgeous, and ruthless. She was the Keeper of the Slytherin Quidditch team, and a damn good one too. She was poised and elegant, but her glare could make a lion cower.
Yet, here he was, with Rachel on his lap in the library once more, her lips on his. And he hated it.
Kurt did his best to stay away from Blaine as much as he possibly could.
Blaine changed him. Blaine made him compassionate and different, and Kurt couldn't afford that. Not now, when his Granddad had heard word of his initiation into The Blood Order. Not now, when the rest of his house looked up to him with awe and envy.
Not now, when he had the world on a silver plate, yet craved the one dish he'd never be able to taste.
Kurt had reached the point where he'd even swapped Prefect duties with Rachel, opting to deal with Finn Hudson rather than Blaine Anderson (an unfair trade if you asked him). He'd distract himself at breakfast with the harrowing conversations Santana and Sebastian would have, never looking to the Hufflepuff table. Not even a glance.
And besides, he had much more to worry about. The last task from the Order had been less than pleasant, and Kurt could still taste the bitterness in his mouth. He was disgusted with himself for going through with it, but he had to push that aside. For his family name, and for himself.
But now, him and his friends had a dinner invite carefully placed on each of their beds that morning. It was for the Wednesday evening, meaning that tomorrow night, they'd all be initiated fully into the Order.
Tomorrow night, Kurt's dreaming would end.
He groaned, resting his head on the Slytherin table whilst narrowly avoiding his breakfast. His head hurt from all the thinking. This should've been so simple. He was meant to finish off his Sixth year in Hogwarts with flying colours and perfect grades, and now-
"Chin up, Lady-Lips."
Kurt tilted his head up just enough to glare at Santana before returning his gaze to the wooden table, "I've got a headache from listening to you and Sebastian making out last night."
"Making out? Is that all you heard? Because you know, the Slytherin couches are really perfect for-"
"Don't want to hear it Lopez," Kurt snapped, "I'd rather not throw my breakfast back up, thank you."
"Snappy," Santana commented, "You know what would help with your little attitude problem? A nice big d-"
Kurt had already cast a quiet 'Silencio' on Santana with his wand concealed under the table. This didn't stop Santana from continuing with some rather lewd gestures, which Kurt happily ignored.
He lifted his head from the table, staring into his mug of plain black coffee. Quinn had been idly writing out an essay next to him, whilst Rachel had simply opted for eating her breakfast in silence. They were all clearly affected by the events of tomorrow night. All of them, except for-
"Well don't you all look horrible this morning."
"Shut it Meerkat," Kurt snapped as Sebastian slid into the empty space next to Rachel, Hunter on his left, and James Kirk sliding into the seat next to Kurt.
"Just making sure that my team isn't completely useless at tonights practice," Sebastian shrugged, grabbing a piece of toast from the heap in front of them, "Unless, of course, you're all too stressed. In which case, as a benevolent Captain, I'm willing to release you all of your duties within the team-"
"Nice try, but we're fine," Quinn replied, the first thing she'd said all morning.
"And the Queen speaks," James mocked, leaning closer to Kurt, "How about the Prince?"
Kurt rolled his eyes, wand at the ready under the table as he turned to James, "You know James, you were right."
James blinked in surprise, "E-Excuse me?"
Kurt shrugged innocently, "You're right. We'd be great together. I mean; I'm hot, you're… Hot."
With a simple wave of his wand, Kurt cast a wordless 'Incendio' at James' robes, and the effect was immediate.
James screeched as he leapt out of his seat, trying to extinguish the flames. Kurt smirked as his friends laughed, resting his head in the palm of his hand cockily. No one, and he truly meant no one, insulted a Vinson unscathed.
"You pest!" James screeched, "How dare you!"
Soon, the whole hall was laughing or watching as James eventually extinguished the flames, his robes now burnt and torn at the hem. Red-faced and panting, James glared at the Slytherin quartet before storming out, Hunter in tow.
"As much as I respect that," Sebastian commented, standing up to follow his lackey, "You've drawn a target on your back the size of a Basilisk."
Kurt shrugged, "Let him try."
With a final smirk, Sebastian elegantly followed the embarrassed boy out of the Great Hall. Kurt spotted a few of the Hogwarts ghosts tipping their heads at Kurt before vanishing once more. As he returned his gaze to his friends, he didn't miss the cluster of yellow from the Hufflepuff table.
Or more specifically, Blaine Anderson watching him with an unreadable expression on his face, as if he'd just witnessed a puppy committing a petty theft. Kurt swallowed, breaking eye contact with the Hufflepuff before turning to his friends.
"Respectable, but we all know you could do more," Santana commented with a nod, having now removed the spell from herself.
Kurt dismissed her comment, "I'm lazy in the mornings."
The quartet continued their morning in silence, however Kurt couldn't stop thinking about the way Blaine looked at him; the first time Kurt had looked his way in days.
Blaine had a headache.
He'd had a full day of classes, followed by an extremely long patrolling night. His head had been pounding since the moment he'd woken up, and he didn't know what to do.
The minute he'd stepped back into the Hufflepuff common room with Sam, Brittany had ordered him to lie down on the plush yellow sofas, with his head on her lap as she stroked his spelled gel-clad hair. Blaine simply nuzzled into his friends leg, ignoring the fact that the Ravenclaw was definitely only in their common room because she was kicked out of the kitchens.
"What's wrong with 'im?" Rory, a fifth year, asked with concern as he made his way to the dormitories, "And why are you in here?"
Brittany shrugged, "Nargles."
Blaine became aware that him and his two friends weren't the only ones in the common room. In fact, Rory had been accompanied by three other fifth years Marley, Mason and Madison. Despite only the latter two being related, Blaine always found it a little unsettling that the three had the same initial.
Despite popular speculation, Hufflepuffs were often found in the common room at late hours. Some would simply be lost in a game of cards they'd never finish, while others would simply chat to their friends round the comfy fireplace. Besides, being right next to the kitchens meant that Hufflepuffs would often do early-morning coffee runs for their friends before breakfast.
Blaine loved his house. He didn't understand how anyone could ever not want to be a Hufflepuff. To begin with, their common room was by far the best. Sure, he'd only seen the Ravenclaw common room briefly when he'd snuck in for a late-night sleepover with Wes and Brittany, but the Hufflepuff common room was homely.
The walls were painted a sunny Hufflepuff yellow, like a sunflower or the colour of spring. It was a circular room, with large circular doors to resemble the top of a barrel (a little ode to the actual entrance to the common room). A series of small, circular windows lined the top of half of the room, the rest occupied with shelves filled with overgrowing plants that kept the air fresh and earthy. There were a number of large circular tables filled with mismatched yellow oak chairs for students to study together with, and the comfiest yellow couches surrounding the warm, inviting fireplace. Black accents could be found around the room too, from the black curtains used to cover the windows in the evenings to the fuzzy black pillows they'd often use for pillow fights.
Blaine's favourite part was definitely the couches. He loved lying in front of the fire on a winters day, the warm flames lulling him to sleep with the comforting smell of cookies wafting from the vents (yes, they had vents to the kitchen).
Despite being in his favourite place in his favourite room, Blaine's headache still persisted.
"Are you okay Blaine?" Marley asked kindly in her fluffy yellow pyjamas, taking a seat on the floor and leaning back against the armchair Sam was sat on.
" 'm fine," Blaine mumbles, closing his eyes, "Headache."
"You look grumpy," Madison commented as she took a seat next to him, her twin following suit by leaning over the couch, "I always make Mason a cup of organic lemon and ginger tea when he's not feeling well. Do you want me to-"
"He's not sick," Brittany commented, playing with the few curls that had escaped Blaine's gel charm at the nape of his neck, "He's lovesick."
Madison and Marley gasped excitedly as Blaine groaned, cursing his friend silently.
"Who is it?!" Madison pushed excitedly, "Let me guess; Andrew Stuart?!"
"Shh! He's upstairs!" Marley hushed her friend, leaning forwards before whispering, "I bet its Luke Wright in Gryffindor."
"Girls, there's no way," Mason argued, "Definitely that Ravenclaw everyones been talking about; Matt Rutherford-"
"Guys," Blaine whined, "I'm not lovesick."
"Oh yes you are mister!" Marley exclaimed, "Come on; tell us who it is!"
"Just drop it," Blaine sighed, nuzzling into Brittany's knee once more, "Please. It's not like it's going to happen anyway."
Marley and Madison muttered in annoyance, but took the matter no further. Mason watched Blaine with a curious eye before deciding to take himself to bed, a quiet nod to Sam as he walked away.
"I need to go," Brittany sighed, gently pushing Blaine off her lap and collecting her battered edition of the Quibbler, notes scribbled all over the pages, "Sweet dreams Blainey."
"Bye Brittany," Blaine sighed, sinking his head into the soft pillows beneath him and humming, "Mmm, warm…"
"We should probably go to bed," Madison yawned, turning to the two remaining boys, "We've got a Charms quiz tomorrow. Goodnight guys!"
"Night," Sam nodded, watching carefully as the two girls tiptoed out of the room, through the barrel door on the left side of the common room. Once the door had softly closed, Sam leant back in his seat, watching Blaine carefully as the boy toed his shoes off, pulling his legs up on the sofa.
"Alright," Sam announced, "Who is he?"
"'Wha'?" Blaine asked sleepily, looking at Sam through hooded eyes.
Sam rolled his eyes, "The Slytherin that's got you so worked up. I haven't seen you like this since Jeremiah."
"It's just a crush," Blaine sighed, "It's fine. I just need to-"
"Cut the crap," Sam sighed. Blaine's eyes shot open, rarely having heard Sam Evans swear, "Look, you're my best friend. You have to tell someone!"
"It's not that big a deal!" Blaine argued, sitting up with his legs still curled on the sofa, "I just… He's so different than what I imagined, you know? He's actually sensitive, and yes a little mysterious… But I just want to know him, you know?"
Sam sighed, looking away from Blaine with a small smile on his face, "Feels nice, doesn't it?"
"What does?"
"Wanting to get to know someone," Sam continued, tracing circles on the soft armchair beneath his hand, "Learning new things about them. Wanting to be near them… That's how I feel about Mercedes."
"Really?" Blaine asked, because sure, he knew his best friend had a soft spot for the Gryffindor, but he'd never imagined him to fall so deeply and so quickly.
"I don't know man," Sam laughed, turning to Blaine, "We're not kids anymore, are we?"
Blaine smiled back, nodding silently. The two turned away from each other, Blaine's eyes fixated in the flames of the fireplace.
"He did something today," Blaine confessed, unable to move his eyes away from the flames, nor stop his mouth from speaking, "He set his friend on fire at breakfast. I mean, it was James Kirk and I'm sure he deserved it. But his eyes… There was no remorse or pity or guilt, just… Power. And it's terrifying, but then I remember the way he speaks to me and… I just need to know more."
Sam Evans watched his friend carefully, not missing the tenseness in the boys hands as Blaine gripped the yellow sofa. He'd seen the incident at breakfast himself; he knew exactly who Blaine was talking about, but he needed to hear him say it.
"Blaine," Sam asked quietly, "Tell me."
Blaine sighed, closing his eyes.
"Kurt Vinson," he announced, "I, Blaine Anderson, am head-over-heels for Kurt Vinson."