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 Forty: The Middle

In the week that follows Valentine's Day, rumours of Cho and Cedric's breakup spread throughout McKinley High like wildfire, but the subjects in question are unruffled. They're both subdued, less inclined towards smiling, or laughing, or socialising, really, but that's not particularly new for either of them.

Not since Christmas, anyway.

In any case, neither of them are pining, and mostly, they just seem relieved.

"We were fucking miserable," Cedric admits, shrugging, "Sometimes we'd get into these fights, say the most god-awful things, and every time I look at her, I just think of… Anyway, it was just time, you know? We're different now, after what happened, and I don't know, I guess we grew apart. I was tired of forcing 'us' to work, and I guess she was too, so we finished up our dinner, I drove her home, and that was that."

Cedric peels at the label on his water bottle, a little solemn, a little awkward, and Harry silently wonders why any of them bother with relationships at all. Surely, they're not worth this sort of misery?

"I'm sorry it didn't work out, Ced."

Cedric shrugs again. His smile is bleak. "It happens."

"Doesn't make it suck any less," Harry answers.

Cedric nods his agreement, but Coach Hooch arrives before their conversation can continue further. She's in a shit mood, absent of her usual thermos of coffee and evidently disgruntled by the fact, and she has no qualms about expressing her displeasure. Subsequently, none of them have any energy left for conversation, though Puck makes a valiant effort. It doesn't last.

Mercifully, training doesn't last forever - though part way through, it certainly feels like it - and they're dismissed with enough time to freshen up before class.

"Who pissed in her cheerios this morning?" Puck grouses. He roughly undoes the laces on his trainers as he does so, and then carelessly, shamelessly starts to tug off his clothes.

"Don't know, don't care, I just want to die," Kevin groans theatrically, slumped against one of the lockers. He's already showered and dressed in his boxers and jeans, but he makes no effort to pull on a shirt, and Harry laughs despite himself. He's exhausted and aching, run ragged as much as the rest of them, but Kevin's dramatics are always comical. It's taken a bit of time to adjust to him, but Entwistle fits into the fold of their team easily, and again, Harry is bewildered by the fact he wasn't Hooch's first choice to begin with.

"Suck it up, Entwistle, we're only halfway through the season," Graham Montague drops onto one of the bench seats to sort out his shoes, "There's a long ass way to go."

"Joy," Matt deadpans. The others offer similar sentiments, and Montague only laughs, unsympathetic.

As a senior, Montague is in his last season of high school basketball, and despite the scholarship opportunities therein, he has no intention of pursuing it throughout college. Therefore, when Graham isn't floating through games and training in a nostalgic haze, he's motivated by the knowledge that in six weeks, he'll have no more of Coach Hooch's training sessions to endure.

Harry imagines it's a pleasant thought.

"Do you think you'll miss it?" Mike queries.

"High school?" Graham clarifies, and then huffs a laugh, "Not a chance. I can't wait to get the hell out of this shithole."

"Here, here," Adrian Pucey contributes. He's another member of the varsity team, another senior, and also Montague's best friend.,

Harry's not sure of whether or not Montague is referring to high school in general terms, William McKinley High in particular, or Lima as a whole. Likely, it's a combination of all of the above, but he doesn't ask Montague or Pucey to clarify, and no one else does, either.

Instead, conversation turns towards Puck, and the question of why half the football team are under the impression that Puck spends his Maths classes snoozing in the nurse's office.

He doesn't. Harry would know - he sits next to the asshole.

"They think I take Algebra," Puck shrugs, unruffled, "When I didn't correct them, they assumed."

"And you didn't correct them about that, either?" Mike concludes.

Puck shrugs, unabashed. "I have a rep to maintain."

Matt, Mike, Harry, Roger, Kevin, and Gabriel roll their eyes, collectively long-suffering. They've all heard about the dude's infamous, notorious, exulted rep by now, and moreover, Puck's willingness to protect it - by any means necessary.

"That's fucked up, dude," Matt says decisively, and considering Puck is more or less pretending to be someone he's not, Harry couldn't agree more.

-!- -#-

Interestingly enough, Cho is of a similar mindset to Cedric, though her explanation is a great deal lengthier, over the phone later that same evening, and Harry regrets asking about 30 seconds into her tangent. He's glad she's okay, glad she's found the fortitude to move passed these hurdles in her life, but holy hell, when Harry had offered to be a listening ear, he hadn't actually expected either of them to take him up on it.

All the same, Cho's actually become a friend since Seamus' ill-fated back to school party, and therefore, Harry listens as Cho talks it out. He proceeds through that night's kitchen clean-up as she does so, throws on a load of his laundry when he's done, and makes the effort to contribute to the conversation when Cho seeks out his opinion.

Harry wonders, sardonically, when he became her emotional sounding board, but it's not a question he'll ever vocalise, or seek out an answer to besides. It doesn't matter, in any case, because he's just glad that he's able to help her out, and there are worse ways he could spend his evening.

"Anyway, I've got to go," Cho wraps up their phone call, "I've got, like, an hour of piano practice to do before I can chill out. Thanks for listening, Harry."

"No problem, Cho," Harry answers, "You can call to talk, anytime."

They hang up on either end of the phone line, and Harry begrudgingly settles in to complete what homework he hasn't already done. It includes research for the Euro Challenge, which actually sucks him into a wormhole of information on the European Union, and how the differing cultures therein have impacted the EU since it's inception in the 90's.

Eventually though, it grows late, and Harry reluctantly calls it a night. It's been a long day, and despite himself, he's tired.

With that in mind, he proceeds through his nighttime routine in a haze, and collapses into bed with a grateful sigh. He doesn't remember falling asleep.

-!- -#-

Author's Note: Appreciate high school while you can, Montague. You'll miss it when it's gone.

Hey, readers. Hope you've had a lovely holiday thus far. Apologies for the delay. Been hella busy, seeing loved ones and all that. Tonight's New Year's, and I'm determined not to end it sober.

Hope you enjoy this update (my last for 2017), because there's no telling when I'll next post. The last couple of chapters have been a bit difficult to churn out, so…

Anyway, hope you guys have a great NYE. See you on the other side. Much love, -t.