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 Two: Sixteen

Chapter Twelve: Why Worry?

Lily sends her 'strongly worded letter' to the McKinley High administration on Thursday evening. It's received on Friday morning, and the content sends the administration in question scrambling to provide appropriate transport for the Glee Club field trip that same weekend.

Incidentally, by that afternoon, the 'strongly worded letter' also lands Harry and Kate on Coach Sylvester's shit list, earns them an immense amount of heckling from their more moronic classmates, and also provides them with a frankly embarrassing amount of gratitude from an inexplicably relieved Mr Schuester.

Suffice to say, they're both very ready for the entire debacle to be over, and quite frankly, that moment can't arrive soon enough.

Harry boards the Glee Club's hastily provided bus with this thought in mind, makes himself comfortable in a seat near the back of the 12 seater, and slips in his headphones to discourage conversation. Most of the others are wide-eyed and animated, enthusiastically discussing how they'd pass the time to Akron, what they'd find at Carmel High, whether or not in-car karaoke can be considered a valid pastime. The exceptions are Kate and Finn, who are as quiet as Harry - if for different reasons - and despite their evident reluctance, Mr Schuester watches them all with a fond, indulgent smile.

With a roll of his eyes at the teacher's obliviousness, Harry produces his laptop, determined to make use of the two hour trip ahead of him. He settles into his seat as best he can, sets his iPod to play the Kooks on loop, and then makes a reluctant start on his Chemistry Report. It won't be nearly as interesting as Puck's, who'd somehow managed to burn off his eyebrows in the practical they're supposed to be discussing, but if all goes well, it will concisely and articulately address everything it needs to.

Harry would be content with that much, anyway.

Mercifully, he's finished by the time they reach Carmel High. It's busy, the parking lot and school building milling with families, friends, students and staff, and it becomes obvious quickly that Carmel High's show choir - Vocal Adrenaline - is received very differently to their own.

It stings, in a way, to recognise what the New Directions could be, but Harry tries not to dwell on it. He excuses himself to the bathroom instead, and when he returns, he joins the queue for a snack before Vocal Adrenaline's show.

"I don't understand how you can possibly read in a moving car," Kurt informs him. He stands in front of Harry, arms crossed over his chest, and there's a critical frown on his face. His attention is on the snack stand though, and presumably, he's not thrilled by the offerings.

"He's been able to do it for forever," Kate grouses, appearing out of nowhere. She wedges herself between the two sophomores, props her chin on one of Kurt's shoulders, and adds, "I bet it's because of the glasses."

Kurt eyes them both sceptically, and then addresses Harry, "You wear glasses?"

Harry sighs, exasperated, and rolls his eyes for good measure. "I usually wear contacts these days, but yes, I sometimes wear glasses. Mostly just at home."

"Huh," Kurt shakes his head, "I can't picture it."

"You'll just have to come over sometime," Kate opines, "See it for yourself."

Kurt smirks. "Perhaps I will."

In front of them, Rachel and Finn seem to share an excruciatingly awkward exchange near the counter. Harry can't hear them, mind, but their body language is telling, and Harry can't decide if he ought to cringe at Rachel's poorly disguised interest, or laugh at Finn's very obvious discomfort.

"I don't know what she sees in him," Kate grimaces, "He's an idiot, and he's not even that good looking."

"He's nice though," Kurt counters. He's blushing, and the tips of his ears are tinged red. "He doesn't give us too much crap, you know? Most of the time it's just like, he's going along with everything because everyone expects it of him, you know?"

Kate pulls a face, "Is that why he slept with someone else's girlfriend?"

"Yeah, that someone else is right here, and doesn't appreciate you bringing that shit up, Katherine."

"Sorry, Harry," Kate grimaces apologetically. She means it, too, her expression chagrined and sincere, but Harry's still irked, and his unimpressed expression indicates as much.

It's not that he's still hurt over Quinn and Finn's actions, because honestly, he's not. He's moved on with his life, moved on with other people. He has goals, hopes and dreams and plans that don't involve Quinn Fabray, and mostly, he's content. He'll never forgive them, of course, and he'll certainly never forget what they'd done, but he's done letting them - and their decisions - dictate his own.

Nevertheless, he doesn't exactly appreciate having his dirty laundry aired for all and sundry to be witness to, ancient history or not. He's a private person by nature, he doesn't care to be the topic of gossip and what have you, and he certainly doesn't want to perpetuate that same gossip, himself.

Kurt's grimace is simultaneous with Kate's. "I forgot about that."

There's something oddly jarring about that revelation.

Harry had known, abstractly, that the fallout of he and Quinn's breakup wouldn't leave an impact on many others outside of themselves and their mutual friends. To realise that to most at McKinley High, it had just become another footnote in the 2008 - 2009 school year, though? It's… It's something else, and it leaves him oddly speechless.

How can something that had impacted him so intrinsically - something that had fractured his sense of trust so pivotally - just be forgotten like that?

It just… It just does not compute.

"Everyone makes mistakes?" Kurt tries.

Harry scoffs derisively. "And yet, I still haven't gotten my fucking apology."

Kurt winces, and shrugs. There isn't anything else he can say, really, and they continue along in the queue in silence. Kate's on her phone, texting Colin, and Kurt's lost in thought, but they each manage to purchase and pay for their snacks without incident, and rejoin their group shortly thereafter.

"Is everyone ready to head inside?" Mr Schuester asks. He receives a series of affirmatives, some more enthusiastic than others, and they follow the gathered crowd into Carmel High's auditorium.

It's a show none of them will soon forget.

-!- -#-

Before they leave Carmel High, the New Directions take the opportunity to use the facilities.

They loiter out the front when they're done, discouraged, lost in thought, and impatient to hit the road in turns, and it's a very different group from earlier. More subdued, doubting themselves and their ability to pull off a performance such as Vocal Adrenaline's, and Mr Schuester, swamped by similar concerns, makes no attempt to bolster their spirits.

On one hand, it's understandable: Schue is a teacher, not a coach, and motivational speeches aren't in his job description. On the other, however, it's somewhat disappointing. Not because Harry necessarily expects one, but because the New Directions could certainly use hearing one.

"What's taking Finn so long?" Rachel raises Mr Schuester's arm in order to study his watch, frowning, "He's been gone a while."

"I guess those pretzels didn't agree with him," Kurt glibly replies.

"Seems like it," Harry concurs. Rachel pulls a face at the insinuation, but she doesn't ask anyone to go check on him. She continues her analysis of Vocal Adrenaline instead, penning her remembered observations in a glittery pink notebook she'd produced from her bag.

Harry, meanwhile, produces one of the novels covered in his IGCSE English Literature course - 'Animal Farm' by George Orwell - and reads carefully. He's already read it for leisure, a while ago now, but this time, he looks for themes, significant plot points, the underlying social commentary the novel is known for. Kate sits beside him, listening to her iPod, and around them, the Glee Club grows restless.

"Oh my God, did he drown in the toilet or something?" Kurt grouses.

"Probably got lost on the way back," Kate uncharitably opines.

"I h-hope h-he's o-okay," Tina frets. Evidently, she's too kind for her own good.

As it turns out, Finn's unharmed. He's covered in paint though, courtesy of the paintball guns used to douse him, and he's sulking. It's part betrayal, part guilt, part embarrassment, and Harry doesn't care one iota for his pity party. He laughs, unsurprised to learn it's Puck, Karofsky, and a few of the guys' teammates responsible for the kaleidoscope of colours painting Finn from the shoulders down. He has no idea what Finn's done to warrant the attack, admittedly - it's not because of Finn's membership in Glee, because then Harry would have been targeted, too - but whatever it is, the results have just made his day.

And if that makes Harry a bad person, then so be it.

-!- -#-

"Has Leo told you much about what's going on with Ursa?"

Harry turns away from the window, and from the cornfields passing them by. It's approaching sundown, they'd left Akron a half hour earlier, and the bus is quiet.

"No. Should he have?"

Kate shrugs. "I'm just worried about her. Have you seen her Facebook recently?"

Ursa's profile photos had begun to show an increasing amount of skin since June. Simultaneously, she seemed to have embraced black clothes and eyeliner, the darker shades of her makeup palettes, and the backdrops of parties Ursa had once disdained.

Harry finds it all kind of weird, but people change, and mostly, he just figures it's Ursa's way of expressing herself after Marlene's death. She doesn't seem sad, anyway - actually, she seems more confident than she's ever been - and that aside, Harry doesn't want to crowd her. He can't imagine it's easy for them, losing their mum, and if Ursa's change in wardrobe makes her happy, who is he to judge?

Besides all of that though, Santana's profile photos are very similar, as are a number of their classmates'. As such, he hasn't felt any particular need for concern. Why would he, when it seems like it's what everyone else is doing?

"I'm sure she's fine," Harry offers Kate an assuring smile, "If something was really wrong, Sirius would notice."

Kate nods, comforted by the thought. "Right. I guess I'm just overreacting. I worry about them, you know?"

"Yeah," Harry acknowledges, sighing, and turns his gaze back towards the window, "Me too."

Not about Ursa, specifically, but the Blacks in general. They're family, they've recently gone through a tragedy Harry can't begin to comprehend, and he and Kate's concern is justifiable.

"They'll be okay though," he continues, and Harry's not sure which of them he's trying to convince, "They have to be."

Harry's not sure he can handle anything less.

-!- -#-

Author's Note: Hey, readers. Happy New Year! Hope it's everything you want it to be. Thanks for reading. It's hard to believe this story's reached 100,000 words. Here's to many more. Until next time, -t.