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-Five: Best Thing I Never Had

"So, Quinn and Finn broke up."

"Did she fuck someone else again?" Harry asks mildly. Yeah, he's still bitter. Sue him.

"No…"

"Okay," Harry answers, nodding, but mostly uninterested, "Why are you telling me?"

"Are you going to, you know, go for her?"

Harry scoffs, simultaneously startled by the enquiry, and dismissive of it. "Give me some credit, you dick."

"Glad to hear it." Matt smiles, pleased. They're in their shared Social Studies class, and their teacher's allowed them a period of independent study to work on what they will. In that time, Harry's edited his History report and Euro Challenge speech, and it's a gratifying feeling. He's still got far more encroaching deadlines to worry about than he cares to really think about, but at least two of them are out of the way now, and no more are going to be added onto his plate.

"I won't be surprised if she tries to, you know, get with you again."

"If she does, I'll tell her to take her attention and shove it up her a-" Harry stops speaking as he makes eye contact with his teacher, who does not look impressed -"- Up where the sun don't shine."

Matt snorts, and then stifles his laughter behind his hand. "Smooth, dude."

Harry attempts to be subtle when he gives Matt the finger, but the sound of his teacher clearing his throat indicates that he's failed in the endeavour.

"One more vulgarity from you, Potter, in word or deed, and it'll be detention this afternoon."

He sinks in his seat, red-faced, as his classmates laugh, or smirk, or offer him sympathetic grimaces, and answers sheepishly, "It won't happen again, Mr Carter."

Mr Carter sounds dubious. "I'm sure it won't."

Mercifully, Harry makes it out of his Social Studies class without earning his first detention of the school year, and trudges towards the Foreign Language department alongside Matt. They don't share the same class - Matt takes Spanish, and Harry takes Japanese - but they're heading in the same direction, and Harry's got a bone to pick with his friend.

"What was the deal with all those questions, anyway?"

Matt shrugs. "I was just making sure I won't have to knock some sense into you, dude. You go back to her, and Quinn will suck the life out of you."

"Not that I'm disagreeing, but why do you say that?"

"Because at this point, she's one of those people who needs to be in control of everything, and you don't actually need her to run your life. That's why she, you know…"

"You just got that from watching her?" Harry asks. He's skeptical.

"San and I have talked about it," Matt shrugs, nonchalant, "She agrees with me."

Harry's not sure what's going on with Matt and Santana, if they're friends, or friends with benefits, or if they're actually in a relationship. Either way, it's a little weird that they've talked about Quinn and Harry, but he tries not to think about it. That way lies madness, and all that..

"Right," Harry acknowledges, lingering outside of his Japanese class, and assures his friend, "I'll definitely keep that in mind, I guess. Either way, I'm not going back to her. I'd never be able to trust her again."

"Sorry, dude," Matt lightly punches him in the arm, sympathetic.

Harry shrugs. "Not your fault, is it? Besides, I'm over it. Over her, anyway."

He's not sure he'll ever get over the betrayal of his trust. Quinn and Finn's actions have certainly eroded something in him, taken away some of his inherent faith in humanity, and Harry's fairly certain that's not something he'll ever be able to get back. In any case, it's not something Harry likes to reflect on often, because the thought that Finn Hudson and Quinn Fabray have that sort of effect on him? It's grating.

Matt nods his acknowledgement, and moves towards his Spanish classroom, "Good to hear it, man. See you at lunch?"

"Yeah," Harry confirms, sighing, "See you."

Carding a hand through his hair, Harry slips into his classroom, drops into a seat in the second row, an produces his books from his bag. As per usual, his teacher is late, and his listless classmates - all six of them - pay him no heed.

As Harry carelessly scrawls lyrics into the margins of his notebook, he comes to the realisation that, actually, he prefers it that way.

-!- -#-

Tanaka coaches the WMHS Baseball team, which essentially means they suck by default.

Truthfully, Harry doesn't mind much. As far as WMHS athletics are concerned, baseball isn't his priority, but it's a decent pastime, his friends are there, and it's a great way to stay in shape while football, basketball, or soccer aren't in season. Moreover, it's another addition to his college applications, and although Harry's a while away from concerning himself with such things, he can't deny that the plight of his older friends and teammates has made him consider his own future, and in particular, how best to prepare for it.

"Is it just me, or are these training sessions stupidly easy?" Mike wonders.

"A walk in the park," Matt concurs, "Guess that's why Hooch's teams are champions, and Tanaka's are… not."

"It means, boys," Luke Bole shoves passed them, headed towards the showers, "If you want to stay in the shape you're in now, you'd better hit the gym."

Bole is a senior, a friend of Montague and Pucey, but meaner, more abrasive, and exceedingly less tolerant of his younger team members. It's not exactly what Harry's accustomed to from his older classmates, but such is life. He's known from a young age that not everyone's going to like him. Not even family, sometimes. That said, the slight still stings a bit.

"Great," Mike grouses, "That's all I need, even less free time."

"Pretty sure it's optional, dude," Puck answers, unfazed. He already visits the school gym on a regular basis, and again, Harry envies Puck his comparatively lighter schedule.

"Not if I don't want to die next basketball season," Mike counters.

"This is true," Puck concedes with a nod. He pulls at the roots of his hair, and then gets up to claim an empty shower, "Don't strain yourself though. Your other classes are exercise enough, aren't they?"

Puck refers to Mike's Dance and Martial Arts classes, of course. The latter have kicked up a notch in intensity, what with the approaching ranking tests, and if Kate's chatter is anything to go by, the dance classes she attends with Mike are equally gruelling, for similar reasons.

Mike hesitates briefly, but concedes with a nod. "I guess so. For now, anyway."

Harry lets Matt and Mike claim the next two available showers, and chats idly with a couple of other players until its his turn to wash up. He does so quickly and efficiently, gets dressed in his Karate gear afterwards, and then meets his friends at the doors to the locker room.

"Ready?"

Harry shrugs. "Sure."

They wander outside. It's not yet sundown, and to no one's surprise, Brittany and Santana loiter outside the school, awaiting their respective lifts home. More interestingly, Quinn's there, and behind a cool, haughty facade, she seems nervous about the fact.

Matt offers Harry a significant glance. "Told you so."

"Whatever," Harry answers.

"What are you going to do?" Mike queries.

Harry shrugs again. "Wing it."

And that's exactly what he does.

-!- -#-

"So… what's happening with Nain and Taid?"

It's Kate who asks, uncertain and hesitant in the back seat of their father's Escalade. They've just finished up their Karate lesson for the week, headed home from the community centre, and the Black Eyed Peas filters from the radio.

In silence, Harry watches his father from his vantage point, wedged in the corner formed by his seat and the passenger side door, and awaits an answer.

Next to him, their father clenches his jaw.

"They have not changed their decision," James answers. His tone is clipped, his accent more pronounced than usual, and Harry can't tell if his father is furious or terrified.

Probably both.

Kate doesn't say a word. Instead, she settles back in her seat, stares out her window, and begins to cry.

Harry, meanwhile, nods wordlessly, glances determinedly out of his own window, and watches as Lima passes them by. As he does so, the silence between them is deafening, and Harry's sure it's the longest drive of his life.

And yet, when they pull up to the driveway of the house that has quickly become home, Harry wonders why they couldn't have just drove on all night.

Author's Note: I posted Welcome to the Jungle on the 28th of Feb/1st of march last year. It's still the 1st of March somewhere in the world…

Thanks for all your support. Here's to (hopefully) another year of this.

Hope you enjoyed. Leave a review? Until next time, -t.