Welcome to the Jungle

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

Part One: Fifteen

Chapter Thirteen: There's A Class For This

Because Kate's got band practise early on Monday morning, Harry gets dropped off on the drive to his sister's middle school. It's somewhat irritating, but it's also the only reason he's able to meet with Quinn for their morning study sessions, and thus, Harry's complaints are minimal.

As expected, Quinn waits for him outside of the library. She's dressed in her usual cheerleading getup, mostly preoccupied by the novel in her hands. She hears his approach though, and upon sight of him, she smiles.

"Hey, Quinn," Harry greets. He's uncertain of whether or not she'd welcome a hug, or perhaps a kiss on the cheek, and the moment for either passes, "How are you?"

"I'm good," Quinn answers, "Yourself? Sleep well?"

"Well enough. Did you?"

Quinn shrugs. "I can't complain."

Harry tugs open the library door, and gestures for Quinn to enter the room ahead of him. The librarian is already there, clacking away at her keyboard, and Hermione is there too, accompanied by Mike. They're mock sword fighting with pencils, entertaining themselves out of sight of their elderly overseer, and Harry frowns, perplexed.

"Isn't she dating Krum?" Quinn asks.

"Yeah," Harry answers, and shrugs, "I doubt anything's going on. They're probably just doing something for the Brainiacs."

He assumes as much, anyway, because they haven't got any work for the debating team that hasn't already been done. their arguments for the next meet have already been written, and at this point, it's simply a matter of practising, individually and as a group. That usually happens during their Friday lunch hours, and the occasional Thursday one, too. With that not an option, particularly since the rest of the team would be involved if it was, and unable to fathom any other reason for them to meet early on a Monday morning, Harry pretends he doesn't notice how close they're sitting, or the fact that Hermione's not only straightened her hair, but is also wearing makeup.

Quinn gestures towards a table on the other side of the room. "Shall we leave them to it?"

"Sure," Harry acquiesces, and follows the blonde to the table in question. He spends the morning revising for his Japanese mid-term tests (written, read, and spoken, God help him), scheduled for later that week, and Quinn makes some more headway with her Biology project. They chat intermittently, occasionally share headphones, and the morning passes.

Before Harry knows it, there are only ten minutes left until homeroom, and their essays for English are due in a matter of minutes.

"Are you nervous?" Quinn asks.

"Kind of, yeah," Harry admits, "Also relieved though. I'm trying not to worry about it."

"It's good," Quinn assures, "I'm sure you'll do fine."

"I hope so."

Hermione and Mike are waiting for them at the doors to the library. The latter is jittery, as though hyped up on caffeine, and Harry's sure he'll remain that way until well after they've submitted their papers. Hermione, similarly, is rather fretful, gnawing at her fingernails and tugging at the end of her braid, and Harry greets them both with a wry, commiserating grin.

"You lot ready for this?"

"Ready for it to be over," Mike answers.

"Don't know why," Quinn parries, "It just means we'll have something equally as daunting to focus on."

"Don't remind me," Harry grimaces, chagrined. English is only the first in a list of tests, papers, projects, and reports, and Thanksgiving seems a lifetime away.

"Whoops."

"All right, so what's the deal with everyone hooking up all of a sudden?"

The question comes from Matt, whom Harry shares Social Studies with. Other than Computer Science, Health, and Gym, it's the only class they share, and their teacher is a hard task master. It's a standard freshman class, but he still expects a lot from his students, and slacking off isn't worth the lectures they'll inevitably receive. It's a fairly heavy class, as far as course load goes, because it's a combined US History and World Geography class, and as such, they've got a lot of information to learn in only one school year. Thus far, Harry's managed to stay afloat, but he's one of the lucky ones in that regard.

Matt is, too, mercifully.

"I have no idea." He'd heard from Puck, of course, that he and Santana had hooked up - in the Biblical sense - at Dave Karofsky's party. Mike and Brit had made out at the same place, and according to Puck, there is a lot of video footage of the two of them - Mike and Brit, that is - getting particularly close on the dance floor. It's somewhat bewildering, because he'd not picked up any vibes coming from either pair, but he isn't about to butt his nose into business that has nothing to do with him.

"I hope no one expects me to hook up with Finn."

Harry grimaces. "Dude, no. Finn's a dumbass."

Matt huffs a laugh. "Got that right."

Finn Hudson isn't Harry's favourite person. The guy's a few french fries short of a Happy Meal, too used to getting his way as an only child to a widowed, single mother. He's unmotivated, short-sighted, and lazy, and Harry spends most of his time in the other boy's company wondering how Puck can be friends with someone so obtuse. Mike and Matt are generally ambivalent where Finn is concerned, much like Harry himself, and Harry privately wonders how long it will take before Puck realises that, unless he makes an effort to change, Finn is just going to wind up as deadweight in the long run.

In saying that, Harry tolerates the other boy's company. Not only are they teammates and thus, tolerance is par for the course, but Puck and Finn are a packaged deal, lifelong friends and all that, and Harry's not dumb enough to tell Puck to choose. The very thought is far too 'jealous girlfriend' for his taste, and he'd sooner punch himself in the face than ever come across as such. Moreover, it's none of his business who Puck - or anyone - decides to be friends with, and at the end of the day, it's not going to have any impact on his own life.

He's brought from his reverie as their teacher shuffles into the classroom. He drops a stack of paper on his desk, does a quick head count of the students present, and then nods to himself, evidently satisfied by the number he receives. Then he starts his lesson, and Harry makes an effort to pay attention to that day's material.

The lesson drags.

-!- -#-

Predictably, Karofsky's party is all everyone can talk about over lunch. Quinn had gone, had been wholly unimpressed by the alcohol, the party-goers, and by the fact that the police had been called in.

They'd all been sober though, and thus had nothing to worry about, or so the story goes.

"The way Karofsky talked it up, I thought it would be epic. It was pretty boring, actually," she says dismissively.

"Our party would be awesome, though," Brittany contributes, "It will be duck themed. Lord Tubbington's already decided that he'll be the guest of honour. No one else is invited though. Just us."

"I can roll with that," Mike says. Harry shrugs his concession, and Matt pretends to crack a whip in front of Mike's face. Mike gives him the finger, and Harry laughs along with the rest of them.

It's made awkward by Finn.

"So, how was your date on Saturday?"