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 Eighteen: Head Above Water

Harry proceeds through the next couple of weeks in a monotonous haze of school, a series of away football games, and an endless pile of homework, assessment, and songs to learn for Glee. It doesn't leave him time for much else, but he keeps up with his friends through texts, negotiates with Mr Schuester, via email, greater input for the Glee Club, regarding their song choices, choreography, and costumes.

It's something of a victory on Harry's part - Mr Schuester is rather devoted to his Disco and 80's Pop - and the team rewards him with plates of fried chicken (Mercedes), sugar cookies (Rachel), homemade Korean dumplings (Tina), and at home, a three-day reprieve from his standard chores (Kate).

It's yet another early morning rehearsal, they're all dragging, but Mr Schuester's oddly urgent about them perfecting their cover of 'Shake It Out' by Florence + the Machine, and the pressure puts them all on edge.

It's not a pleasant combination, and it's not much of a surprise when, finally, the storm breaks. It's Mercedes who loses it first, lashing out at Rachel when she fumbles her choreography and nearly takes one of Mercedes eyes out.

"You try to bust my face again, Berry, and I will cut you."

"Threats are completely unnecessary, Mercedes," Mr Schuester interjects wearily, "And Rachel, maybe curb your enthusiasm a little bit?"

"We've already been at this for two hours," Harry opines, "Maybe we should break for the day?"

"Seconded," Kurt dully contributes. He's produced yet another magazine, and he flicks through the pages with a disinterested gaze.

"Classes start in half an hour," Artie reasons.

"I'm sorry, guys, I know you're probably tired, but we need to get this right," Mr Schuester insists, "We're doing this song this Friday at the pep assembly."

The pep assembly is the only thing Santana's talked about all week. It's that Friday, the Homecoming Game is that same evening, and amidst all the revelry, the Homecoming King and Queen - and Prince and Princess - are slated to be announced in front of the entire student body.

As a member of the varsity football team, and also of the Homecoming Court, Harry is expected to make an appearance on stage twice, and he's not remotely enthused by the prospect.

The revelation that he'll have to perform, as well?

It's just about the last thing he wants to hear, really.

"In front of the whole school?" Tina squeaks, horrified and terrified in turn. Her stutter is notably lacking, but Harry doesn't call attention to its absence.

Mr Schuester beams, under the assumption Tina's actually excited. "Exactly!"

"They're going to throw food at us," Kurt predicts grimly, touches his cheek, and laments, "And I just had a facial, too."

"I'll press charges if that happens," Rachel says, dramatic as she ever is. Although, in fairness, it's a distinct possibility.

Mr Schuester claps to regain their attention. "Guys, I can't express to you how important this assembly is."

None of them are remotely pleased by Mr Schuester's insistence. Finn looks genuinely terrified about performing in front of his football teammates, and although Harry doesn't share the same concern, he's not exactly thrilled to have another thing to worry about that day. Is the football game not enough to think about?

"We need recruits. There are eight of you. We need 12 to qualify for Regionals. We have no choice, or the club is over. Now, from the top."

Finn, as they disperse to their starting positions, expresses what most of them are probably thinking. "I'm dead."

Harry, who is frankly unsure of whether or not he has the mental, emotional, and physical energy to worry about a performance none of them had asked for, wonders if he is, too.

By the time Mr Schuester dismisses them for homeroom, Harry still doesn't have an answer.

-!- -#-

"We haven't seen much of you, of late," Hermione comments over lunch, "Is everything okay?"

Mike and Seamus look up from their conversation, intent on his answer. Ron, in the midst of texting his siblings, tilts his head to listen in, as well. His other lunch companions are elsewhere - Matt and Dean are at an African American Association meeting, and Frankie's in a meeting of his own with the Wrestling team - but apparently, they're all curious, concerned, or both.

Harry shrugs, and picks listlessly at the remains of his lunch. "Just a lot of work to do."

"Anything we can do to help?" Hermione queries.

Harry appreciates the offer, and he's tempted to ask her to review his papers for his IGCSE classes, or even for his WMHS classes, but he declines. Hermione is about as busy as himself - if not more so - and he doesn't have the heart to add more to her plate.

Besides, he's managing. Barely, admittedly, but managing all the same.

"Thanks," he says, "But I'm good."

"You seem so down," Hermione frowns, "We're worried."

"I promise, I'm okay," Harry insists, "Just tired."

Hermione doesn't look remotely reassured, and Harry doesn't have it in him to look at the others. He casts his gaze over the cafeteria instead, loud and crowded with half the student body packed inside it, the walls adorned with posters advertising anything and everything that has to do with Homecoming, and he feels so detached from it all.

There are far more important things to worry about than a football game, or a dance, or a ridiculous, plastic crown.

"Brittany's planning an afterparty for the Homecoming Dance," Mike informs him, "Maybe you want to come? Chill out for a bit."

Harry shrugs, noncommittal. "Maybe."

He probably won't, though.

-!- -#-

After football training, Harry meets Kate in the choir room. She and Rachel are seated together on the piano bench, all chatter and smiles and laughter, and Harry almost feels bad about interrupting them.

"You ready to go?" He asks Kate, once he's been acknowledged by the both of them.

"I suppose so," Kate concedes. She reluctantly starts to gather up her things, and Rachel follows suit.

As they do so, Harry leans against the open doorframe, and chit-chats with Rachel about training and Glee Club and the classes they share.

"We'll walk you to your car," Harry informs her. Their mum's picking them up to head to the community centre, but she'd kick his arse six ways to Sunday if he didn't do so. "It's getting dark outside."

"Thank you," Rachel acknowledges brightly, "Jacob Ben-Israel has grown rather persistent with his courtship, so I appreciate it."

Harry frowns, perturbed, and makes a note to look into that. Rachel is often overbearing and most people don't understand her particular brand of passion, but she certainly doesn't need to be harassed for it - or for anything else, either.

"Just say the word, Rachel," Kate says, "And I'll kick his arse."

"I don't care for violence," Rachel replies.

"Yeah, and I don't care for sexual harassment," Kate counters.

Harry gets the impression it's not the first time they've had this conversation, and Harry's concern mounts. Now's neither the time, nor the place, however, and Harry reluctantly sets aside the issue to address later. Not indefinitely - he'll be making calls later that night, probably - but it's evident Rachel has resolved not to do anything - to let the situation run its course - and maybe there's a degree of denial in that approach, but Harry doesn't want to rock the boat with a girl he really only knows peripherally as a teammate, classmate, and a friend of his sister.

"Shall we go, then?" Harry asks them.

Kate smiles brightly, links her arm through Rachel's, and replies, "We shall."

And leave, they do.