Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Glee.

Kurt and Hermione's anger had subsided and they were now on speaking terms with Harry and Ron, the howler from Mrs Weasley had been sufficient punishment. They were on their way to their first lesson of the year as a unit, catching the pair of boys up on his adventures in Kamchatka. They were strolling to the greenhouses outside the castle for herbology, much to Kurt's dismay, when a small blond Gryffindor stopped dead in their path; he did not advance, or exactly retreat but stood there glowing at the group.

"You guys also see it, right?" Kurt leaned over to confirm that he wasn't losing his mind, the boy was standing exceptionally still only moving to block their way forward when they tried to step around him, "can we help you? Are you lost?"

"You're Harry Potter," the boy looked Kurt up and down with confusion, "but why are you dressed like a Slytherin?"

Kurt kept his voice level but his polite smile fell, "I'm not Harry Potter," he pointed to the bespectacled boy, "that's Harry Potter."

The boy nodded a quick thank you before stepping one pace to the left and beginning again, "Hi Harry, I'm Collin Creevy, I'm a Gryffindor too."

Kurt looked at his friend through new eyes, asking himself what similarities existed between them that might cause someone to mistake one for the other; they were both dark haired but Harry's more so than his and Harry wore his bangs coming forward over his forehead whereas Kurt's were side swept; their eyes were incomparable, Harry's eyes shone like emeralds where his were molten pools of silver; but if their looks were loosely described he could see where some confusion might arise in the search for a dark haired, light eyed, thin boy with hair covering his forehead.

Collin turned his attention from Harry to glower over the remaining three, first he pointed to the bushy haired girl, "You're Hermione Granger, the smartest person in your year, unrivalled by anyone." He turned to the flame haired boy, "You're Ron Weasley, that was your flying car." He finally turned to Kurt and raised a confused brow, "I'm not sure who you are."

"It doesn't matter," Kurt said dismissively.

Collin pulled out a camera and held it out toward Kurt, "Would you mind taking a picture of us? I'm going to develop them in a special potion so they move."

Kurt took the camera with a small scoff, he was gesturing for them to huddle together when his attention was drawn away from the group posing before him to the quarrelling teachers coming around the bend; a tall handsome man and a short squat woman who looked like she'd been on the receiving end of a severe beating.

"You know, I could show you how to deal with such an exotic plant as I have prior experiences," the blond man flashed a dazzling smile and elegantly flipped his hair, "most would have to read it in my written works but for you I'd make a special concession."

Kurt was stunned when Professor Sprout's reply was less than grat eful, "Professor Lockhart, if Professor Dumbledore thought I was under qualified for the job I'm sure he would have asked you, I have been dealing with this particular Womping Willow for longer than you've been able to write your own name and I was doing just fine by it before you chose to aggravate it by trying to immobilise it."

Lockhart looked flustered for a moment before recomposing himself, "You clearly don't know what you're saying, I am experienced with many a womping willow, you've clearly bred this one differently."

"Professor Lockhart," the short woman stared him down and he shrank down, "I suggest you stick to Defence Against the Dark Arts and leave the Herbology to me."

Professor Sprout eyed them suspiciously as she walked by their small congregation, when Professor Lockhart noticed them and deduced that they had witnessed that entire exchange he straightened up, smiled broadly and strolled over to them with a heart chuckle, "Woman, only way to win with them is to make them believe their right." Kurt could see through that bravado but said nothing, something caught the man's eye, "If you want a photograph, all you needed to do was ask."

"This isn't my camera," Kurt said as Lockhart draped an arm over Kurt's shoulders and smiled. Kurt unhooked himself from under the man's arm as he spoke, "I'm just taking a picture of Harry, Hermione and Ron for their adoring fan and I don't want a photo with you."

"Harry," the man's attention had turned from Kurt to the more famous boy, "giving out photos this early in your career? Oh, young man, that is a bad idea, celebrity is as celebrity does and it you set your value now it undermines the rest of your career."

"What career?" Hermione asked with a single bushy brown brow raised in confusion.

Ron smiled to himself as he spoke in a patronising tone, "Are you releasing an album?"

Harry ignored his friends' jeers and scowled at the blond haired man, "I' not giving out photos, I'm posing for one photo because Collin asked nicely." The first year looked on the verge of fainting as Harry said his name, he would have died a happy man with a smile from ear to ear, "Also, I don't want celebrity status nor am I interested in the pursuit of fame."

Lockhart ignored the second part of Harry's statement, choosing only to hear the part about the photo, "Well, the picture will be worth twice as much with the pair of us."

"Can't he just cut out the one in the daily prophet if he wants one with both of you?" Ron asked with a furrowed brow and feigned confusion.

"But he's not in that one," Lockhart pushed Ron and Hermione aside and smiled broadly as he clutched Harry's shoulders, speaking out of locked teeth, "Cheese." Kurt rolled his eyes and snapped the picture, as soon as the flash died Lockhart started to speak once more, "Once you've developed it, bring it round my office and I'll sign it, I'm sure Harry will do the same."

Collin seemed more excited about the prospect of gaining the autograph of the boy-who-lived rather than bestselling author Gilderoy Lockhart and Kurt couldn't say he was surprised; Lockhart's popularity didn't seem to be as great amongst the youth as it was with middle aged woman. The boy thanked them all and run off to his first class, already several minutes late, prompting the quartet to do the same- hurrying off to greenhouse three for their herbology.

When they arrived Professor Sprout looked less than pleased by their tardiness as they fell in beside Finn and Neville but waved it off, "Grab a set of ear muffs and step up to an empty pot, I was just about to begin." Kurt grabbed the cleanest looking pair of fluffy pink earmuffs; he gave them a distasteful look before hanging them around his neck. Kurt pulled on the sleek dragon hide gloves he'd purchased the previous year on his trip to the Far East, "Okay second years, today we'll be repotting mandrake, does anyone know what mandrake are?"

Both his and Hermione's hands shot up at speed and it was to their utmost surprise when neither of them were called upon to answer the question but rather Professor Sprout pointed at Neville who had his hand in the limbo of raised hands. Neville spoke in a shaky low voice while he trebled in fear, "Mandrake are root plants that look like humans, they have a fatal scream when they are fully grown. Mandrake roots are a key ingredient in the depetrification potion."

"Well done Longbottom," Professor Sprout chortled gleefully but didn't seem as surprised by Neville's aptitude as she was by his participation, "twenty points to Gryffindor." The Gryffindors all exchanged excited whispers of celebration, the herbology professor spoke over the murmurs, "Mr Longbottom is correct, though the mandrake we are working with now are just babies and as such their cries won't kill you but they will knock you out for several hours."

"I'll show you how to repot a mandrake, please pay close attention to how I do it because you're going to have to do the same," Professor Sprout was gesturing with her hands wildly with every word she spoke, "After you put on your earmuffs I will gesture with a thumbs up that it's safe to remove your earmuffs."

She gestured for them to don their earmuffs; Kurt covered his ears with the fluffy pink muffs, securing them over his ears till he couldn't hear Hermione next to him as they tested each other. He watched as Professor Sprout grabbed the small bush, pulled it out firmly yet careful not to snap the stem with one hand; in her hand she held a small bush but in the place of the plant's roots there was an ugly brown wrinkly baby that was wailing; to the observing students the wails appeared to be soundlessly but Kurt knew better. The herbology professor put the baby plant in the empty pot and started piling in soil till the baby's wails stopped, she held up a thumbs-up and they all took off their earmuffs.

"You have to use a firm hand when unearthing the mandrake but be careful not to break the stem or the mandrake dies," she was miming a proper stance for them to imitate as she spoke, "put it in the pot and start putting in soil to keep it warm, once it is warm it will stop crying."

She gestured for them to begin work on their own plants, Kurt secured his earmuffs and firmly grabbed the small shrub with both hands. Professor Sprout counted them down and on three they all unearthed their mandrake, Kurt could hear a distant faint screech, Kurt lowered the ugly baby into his pot and started filling it with soil. Eventually greenhouse three seemed to be silent and they were gestured to take off their earmuffs. Professor Sprout began to lecture them on mandrake's parallels to human behaviour and their accelerated development through the phases of human development.

"I still hate this subject," Kurt groaned, his voice barely above a whisper as he leaned on his much taller brother, "I'm pretty sure I'm going to get an ear infection from these communal earmuffs, I don't know what the point of these ugly things is."

"You are such a prima donna," Finn giggled as the lesson winded down, poking Kurt playfully in the ribs.

It was as though the mandrake had heard his insult because it was just then that a clump of dirt flew across the classroom and disaster ensued; the dirt had come from his own flower pot and hit him in the face, going straight into his left eye. Greenhouse three was filled with a loud screech of 'motherfucker' as Kurt clutched his eye as pain shot through him.

"Language Mr Hummel," the professor reprimanded him but Kurt couldn't bring himself to care as he felt grains of sand lodged deep in his eye and he feared he may lose his eyesight; even as his watered he could feel the sand held in place. Kurt was chanting curses words as he stuck his finger in his eye to alleviate the pain that was crippling his inhibitions and came away with a flimsy clear concave disk.

"Is that a piece of your eye?" Neville cried out fearfully as the second year students watched but did not understand what was happening.

Kurt did the same thing with his other eye to the same result; he felt his eyes water and the moisture flushed all the foreign bodies from his conjunctiva, the sand cleared from his eye. Kurt discarded the pair of flexible disks and shook his head in triumph. With blurry vision he turned to an indistinguishable figure and spoke in a reassuring tone, "No sweetheart, it's a contact lens."

He dug blindly into his Birkin for a small case, pulled out rectangular horn rimmed spectacles; Kurt's vision was restored when he placed the glasses on the bridge of his nose and realised he'd been talking to Harry and not Neville.

"You wear glasses?" Hermione looked taken aback by this newly discovered information, but she seemed to take this new bit of information in stride after giving it a moment's thought.

"No, I use contact lenses but they were just ruined," Kurt looked at the flower pot disapprovingly because it seemed like the action had been intentional, Kurt realised himself and bowed his head apologetically toward the front of the class slightly, "I'm sorry for the language Professor Sprout."

It seemed Kurt's small accident had killed the mood and put an end to the educational ambience, causing professor Sprout to immediately dismiss the class twenty minutes early. Nobody spoke to him as they filed out of the greenhouse, it was Finn who was the first to step to him as they rounded the castle into the main building, "does Burt know you swear like a trucker?"

Kurt had glared at him over his spectacles with his lips pursed intensely, "I pray he never finds out." He was shaking with anger as he spoke the words as more of a warning than a request, "I think, just maybe, herbology hates me as much as I hate it."

"Normally I wouldn't agree," Hermione giggled as she walked in step with him through the entrance hall, "but the subject did just try to blind you."

"I think you're the first person to be hated by school," Ron chortled at his own joke but nobody else laughed

Kurt absorbed the awkwardness caused by Ron's failed attempt at humour; he gave a small sideways smirk before going on, "We are both the typical idea of a muggle nerd."

"How so?" Ron asked with a furrowed brow, he was trying to pretend his feeble joke hadn't happened.

"I wear glasses and Hermione has braces."

"Now Collin Creevy and others like him will definitely confuse the two of us," Harry laughed lightly as they navigated the long halls and tall staircases on their way to transfiguration quad, they didn't battle to find it because Professor McGonagall was using the same classroom she'd been in the previous year. Kurt had never had the knack for transfiguration, he ha excelled in the theory and done reasonably well in the practical exercises but it was not his strongest suit.

"Now we're both pale, dark haired, light eyed bespectacled preteens," Kurt groaned at the thought as Hermione led them into the front row bench seat that all of their classmates had avoided, Kurt shook the idea and focused on the class.

Professor McGonagall was an elderly lady with hair pulled into a neat bun so tight it looked to be holding her wrinkling face in place, she spoke sternly in a voice that managed to be deep and sharp as a whip at the same time. She had an impeccable command over the students but Kurt felt that her favour for the Gryffindors, the house she hailed over as head of house, though subdued; managed to snake its way in every now and again. The professor had not given them the same show as she had in first year; then they had entered her class to find a tabby cat sitting on her desk, when the class had been buzzing with light conversation the cat had jumped off the table and turned into the elderly lady.

"Good morning second years," she spoke slowly and precisely, making sure to annunciate every syllable. She made eye contact with sharp eyes that caused all the students to shrink as she spoke, "today, I will be teaching you how to transfigure beetles into buttons."

The professor had begun to explain the theory behind the exercise and give them instructions on how to perform the spell as Kurt furiously took down notes from the black board which was filling itself with large curly cursive letters. Kurt never understood why you'd want to do any of the things they learned in transfiguration but when he'd asked the aged woman, she'd reassured him that it was a gateway to being able to transfigure larger objects into practical ones and eventually it would help them with conjuring, a topic that Kurt had been excited about ever since. Professor McGonagall had waved her wand and beetles had been summoned from a draw in her large oak desk and one had been placed in front of each student, it took a moment for Kurt to compose himself not to scream at the sight of the creepy crawly. Kurt, who had always enjoyed reading books about wild animals and the wilderness when he'd lived in London, had discovered that he detested the great outdoors and nature when he'd been properly exposed to both; he feared most creatures and abhorred dirt which made him incompatible with the wilderness.

"Are you scared of the wee bug Hummel?" Draco Malfoy taunted from across the classroom, the class had been filled with giggles and whispers, "And you think you can go around telling people you saved the Minister of Magic's life, pathetic really."

Kurt had sat quietly for a moment as he shrank under Professor McGonagall's disapproving stare but he could not hold his anger, he'd turned back to the smirking blond haired boy with fire in his eyes, "Do you want to know what's pathetic?" Kurt's brow twitched as he spoke, "A little boy who can't pass a day without talking to his mommy or would you rather we talk about how you cried for her on the first night last year?"

Kurt's comments were met with raucous laughter, Draco had been left speechless by Kurt's cutting remarks for a moment longer than he cared to admit before stumbling a feeble reply of, "you'll get yours," before mouthing the word 'mudblood'.

Kurt had made a mental note to teach the boy a long overdue lesson when he saw Professor McGonagall towering over him with a stern look on her once pretty face, "I don't appreciate wild outbursts in my classroom, five points from each of you."

Kurt shrugged indifferently as the Slytherins glared at his back, he knew that if her turned around most would avert their gaze out of fear and respect but he didn't have it in him to play their games. He had turned his attention to his beetle in distaste; just looking at it was more than enough to send shivers up his spine. Kurt imagined a plain black plastic button, really visualised it before reciting the incantation they had been taught; his first try had been a failure in his eyes, he had transfigured the beetle into a black plastic button with little legs on the side- technically it was a button because the legs didn't move but it hadn't been what he'd intended to do. Kurt had requested a second beetle, not touching the beetle with his hands, he'd successfully managed his second attempt.

Kurt had then assisted Neville, who was having trouble keeping his beetle still enough to cast the spell; he was already on his second beetle, having accidently crushed the first under his shoe. Professor McGonagall had always been quite strict with the clumsy boy but today it seemed like she'd scared him witless; Kurt's first task had been to get him to calm down because he'd become frantic with nerves.

"Neville," Kurt's voice was level and soothing as he looked anywhere but at the bug, "breath, immobilise the beetle and then it can't get away from you; half the battle won."

The boy had given him a curt nod before furrowing his brow, "I can't remember how to immobilise things."

Kurt had given a small smile, "think in a linear fashion, it'll come back to you."

The boy scrunched up his brow whilst holding the beetle in his wand hand, it was Hermione on his other side who'd broken the silence between them, "What's he doing?"

"Trying to remember."

"What exactly-" the boy's brow had relaxed and Kurt had gestured for Hermione to be silent and watch as he put the bug on the desk and immobilised it with a triumphant nod.

"Now you can just concentrate on your transfiguration."

"Asking Longbottom to concentrate," Draco chortled from his seat near the back as he regained some of his power by putting down another, "you'd have better luck waiting for snow in June."

"I know a spell that can do that," Hermione added before she could stop herself.

"With a head that size, you'd think you'd have some semblance of brains but alas," Kurt had been surprised to note that it hadn't been his voice that had delivered the jeer but rather Neville had come to his own defence. Kurt and Hermione had high-fived each of his hands with glee, the boy had taken that confidence and transfigured a beetle shell patterned button that he seemed quite proud of.

~0~

Kurt had left the potions dungeon with a spring in his step, he'd been working on his potioneering all of last year and that work had paid off in the form of a brew that, as Professor Snape put it, exceeded expectations. Their final lesson of the day was Defence Against the Dark Arts with Professor Lockhart. Though they had a new teacher, the class was still held in the same classroom that had once been used by the stuttering turban wearing professor but upon entering the large well lit classroom, Kurt knew that Lockhart had made it his own by redecorating it as a shrine to himself; there were painting of the man smiling and waving all over the room, along with press posters for his many books. The painting that caught Kurt's eye was one of Lockhart painting a picture of himself, holding a picture of himself; Kurt thought the painting was trippy, he had never known anyone more vein than himself but it appeared Lockhart had him well beat in that department.

"My mum fancies Lockhart," Ron whispered to Kurt as they seated themselves near the back of the class, "you missed her at Florish & Blotts, she went mental at the sight of him; fixing her hair and lowering her voice like a school girl."

"I do not fuss about hair," Hermione fiddled with her Alice band and raised her voice, "and I most certainly do not lower my voice."

"You have me to fuss over your hair," Kurt smacked her hand away from where she was fiddling.

It was then that Lockhart dramatically opened the office door at the front of the classroom, slamming it to gain the attention of the students who were engaged in their own conversations. The man flourished his lilac cloak as he floated down the stairs, he began to speak, "Hello second years and welcome to Gilderoy Lockhart's Defence Against the Dark Arts. This will be a lesson like no other and it will be one you'll tell your children about."

There was round of applause from his admirers around the classroom, Kurt was horrified to see that Hermione was one of those fans, "As you all know, I'm an accomplished wizard who has faced numerous dangerous and life threatening situation that have earned me The Order of Merlin, Third Class and witch weekly's most dazzling smile five years running," the man flashed said smile and there was swoon from the class, "As I'm sure you couldn't contain yourselves and have already read my bestselling autobiography Magical Me which is currently celebrating its record breaking fifth week at the top of The Daily Prophet's bestsellers list, as such I've prepared a small pop quiz."

Kurt looked over the quiz he was handed and was thankful for his eidetic memory as he scanned the questions on the test; the questions had neither the academic challenge nor the content benefit that he expected from a subject as important as Defence Against the Dark Arts but rather were personal questions posed by the author about himself. Kurt's first thought was that he wanted so badly to boycott the entire test because it clearly wasn't beneficial to his magical education and if he chose to stand against it, he would say as much but he wasn't sure he could cast judgement on the entire syllabus on the events of one lesson and if he learned one thing from the quartet's rash judgement of Snape the previous year, it was that you needed actual concrete evidence.

Kurt filled out the questionnaire quietly as best as he could without having consciously committed the information to memory; he had barely recalled the minuscular details, dates and titbits of information that the test required of him as he had not consciously committed them to memory. Kurt raised his hand and waved Lockhart over, "Professor, I finished your quiz." Kurt gave a condescending smile, "I hope you don't mind me asking but are there additional notes that you'll be giving us because I noted that the books you prescribed aren't very telling of how to practice the magic against the dark arts or even what magic to use."

Lockhart rolled his eyes and gave a slow deep and equally condescending chuckle, "Fear not young friend of Harry Potter, I am plenty experienced with fighting the dark arts as is evident in all my written works and I will be relaying that knowledge to all of you in due course."

Kurt raised a quizzical eyebrow trying to conceal his distrust of the man's teaching abilities, "I just feel like a quiz that asks me what your favourite colour isn't academically beneficial to me; I'm disputing neither your magical prowess nor your skill as writer, I'm simply voicing my scepticism about your choice of material."

"You got that one right," the curly haired man smiled, ignoring Kurt's scepticisms and focussing on grading Kurt's quiz instead, "you know your stuff…"

"Kurt," he said his name but not as merrily as he usually did. Kurt kept his thought process linear, "I do know my stuff but I'm here to learn more, and I don't mean the intimate details of your life."

"You want to learn," the man stepped behind his desk and lifted a covered cage with a devilish smile on his handsome face, "then learn you shall."

He pulled off the periwinkle silk cover with a dramatic flourish but the class didn't seem as impressed as he'd expected them to be. There were minute humanoid creatures in the cage, they had big glossy black eyed, sharp little teeth and electric blue skin.

"Cornish pixies?" Seamus Finnegan sounded very disappointed and uninterested by the man's great announcement, the feeling seemed to reverberated through the classroom.

"Freshly caught cornish pixies," the man countered feebly but to no avail. He seemed to have come to an internal decision and smiled once more, "try to catch them."

The man swung open the cage door and the classroom was flooded with the tiny creatures, it seemed they had a destructive streak within them; they had dispersed about the classroom within moments and started to stir panic within the students. Gone now was Seamus's smug laughter as he swung his copy of Wandering with Werewolves about in an effort to keep the pixies away. Many students of both genders were letting out high pitched screams as they ran from the classroom but Neville had no such luck, a group of the pixies had him by the ears and robes and were lifting him to the ceiling.

"Help," the plump faced boy cried as he swung his arms wildly, trying to swat the menacing creatures away, "Professor, help! Harry, Hermione, Kurt, anyone; help."

"Why not me?" Ron asked in an angry huff, he pulled out his wand; the wand had always been shabby looking, with the unicorn tail hair sticking out all frayed at the end but today it looked especially feeble, bent at an interesting angle with spell-o-tape wrapped slightly off centre. Ron had stood with his wand at hand for a moment before shrugging and putting his wand away with a shrug, "I got nothing."

Lockhart had his wand at the ready and was recited what sounded more like a limerick than a spell, "Pesky pixie," a single pixie swooped down and snatched away his wand and began terrorising Lockhart's many portraits with it.

Kurt had his wand at hand and began to stun the swarm that was carrying Neville to the ceiling it seemed for everyone he knocked to the ground two more took its place but had it not been for Hermione's quick thinking his attempts would have been in vein; she had quit trying to beat them away with her copy of Voyage with Vampires, and pointed her wand to the ceiling and used the immobilising charm to make their work easier. Kurt had risen to the occasion and ensured Neville's descent from the rafters wasn't a disaster.

It was only when the dust settled that Ron asked the question that was burning fresh in all their minds, "Where the hell is Lockhart?"

~0~

Kurt placed a stack of books on the seat beside himself on the stand seating that surrounded the quidditch pitch and flexed away a cramp in his tired arm as he hauled one open; he, Ron, Hermione and Harry's one man fan club were watching the Gryffindors practice because it seemed to be the only time they saw Harry these days due to a rigorous practice schedule.

"What are you reading?" Hermione sounded almost panicky as she snapped the question at him with wide eyes.

Kurt replied in the soothing voice he usually reserved for Neville Longbottom's many panic attacks, "Calm down, I'm reading about occlumency," it didn't seem to have the desired effect, "recreationally."

"Occlumency?" Ron asked quizzically taking a now calm Hermione's spot on the interrogation squad, "What's that? What's recreationally? Are we being tested on it?"

"You're not being tested on this, its extra reading I'm doing," Kurt reassured the panicked blond who obviously thought that it was something he hadn't paid any mind in class."

"Occlumency is a magical thought structuring skill," Hermione answered the flame haired boy with a roll of her eyes before turning to Kurt, "you have an eidetic memory, why would you need occlumency?"

"A what memory?" Ron demanded.

"I don't find your ignorance the least bit amusing."

"Eidetic memory, it means that I have almost perfect recollection of things I commit to memory," Kurt hated explaining simple things but he knew better than to say so because there were times when he didn't know, "I don't need it, I'm learning it so I can tech it to Neville."

"You want to teach something to Neville?" Ron spluttered.

Kurt kicked the boy sitting two rows in front of him in the shoulder, "it's a valuable skill that would be very beneficial to him, if he were able to organise his thoughts and keep them in order he would be able to think more clearly."

"Then all he'd be is clumsy," Hermione giggled but immediately looked to regret it as Kurt was about to give her a piece of his mind. Hermione startled him when she suddenly shot to her feet like a bullet pointing to the near distance, "Looks like trouble."

Kurt followed her line of vision to where she was pointing her finger and his vision came to rest on the Slytherin quidditch team, "Why must it be trouble because it's the Slytherins? If it were the Hufflepuffs you wouldn't call it trouble." Kurt was protesting yet he'd packed up his things and his feet were carrying him over to the commotion, he noted that the facial expressions of both teams were riddled with animosity, "Okay, maybe it is trouble."

Kurt heard the tail end of Marcus Flint's snarky comment about broomsticks, completely lost on him of course, but it seemed a big deal based on Fred and George's incensed reaction. The bit about the new seeker had drawn his attention to the smug face of Draco Malfoy, dressed in the house quidditch uniform and his head too large on his narrow shoulders; Kurt wondered if he'd ever grow into a head so bulbous.

"Well," Hermione seemed to be more aware of where the conversation was going because she piped in at that very moment whilst Kurt was trying to assimilate the track of the dialog, "At least nobody on the Gryffindor squad had to buy their way on to the team, they all earned their place through merit."

"Nobody asked you," a vein was throbbing on Draco's temple, a clear indication that Hermione had struck a nerve, as he spat the words between gritted teeth but making sure to draw out the final word for emphasis, "Mudblood."

There was a roar of disapproval from every member of the Gryffindor squad, a few of the Slytherins looked uncomfortable with the language, whilst others seemed to be pleased with Draco's choice of words but it was Ron who was first to make a move, "Eat slugs," he announced pointing his bent wand at the blond haired boy but it seemed the jinx had gone wrong somehow as he was knocked back a couple of feet in a flash boogie green light.

As others fussed about a fallen Ron, it was Kurt who stepped forward to stand up to his housemates, "you ought to be ashamed using a prejudicial slur against your peer, or any one for that fact." They didn't pay him any mind as they guffawed at Ron as he regurgitated slug after slug and Collin snapped a couple of pictures. Kurt hadn't thought too hard about it before he'd swung his arm and the back of his left hand connected with Draco's cheek with a dry burning smack, when Kurt saw the boy's face, it had his palm burnt into pale flesh of his cheek along with five slender fingers, "If I ever hear of you using that word again, I will end you. The same goes for the rest of you."

Kurt recomposed himself before attempting to follow Harry, Hermione and Ron off the pitch but his path was blocked by Fred and George.

"You burnt him with your hand," George held him by the shoulders and shook him senseless with a goofy smile on his face echoed by his twin brother, "Wicked."

"Tell us how you did it," Fred demanded turning Kurt towards himself with a sternly furrowed brow echoed again by the other brother, "teach us master."

"I didn't mean to," Kurt argued defensively but couldn't help but giggle at their nonstop bowing, "it just happened."

"You sure it isn't that wandless magic you learnt over the summer?" Fred pierced him with his eyes whilst George jabbed at him with a finger.

"Ron was telling anyone who would listen these past few weeks," George added, completing his brother's statement, "thinks it makes him cool by association."

"Look," Kurt shrugged out of their grip and started after his friends before shouting back, "We'll talk some other time."

"You can't run from us forever," they said in unison before turning to each other, scowling and speaking in chorus once more, "I was supposed to say that."

Kurt had quickly found and followed the trail of slugs all the way to Hagrid's hut, catching up in time to hold the door open for Ron- whose ailment had apparently hindered his ability to walk as he now had to be steadied upright by Harry and Hermione.

"Oh," Hagrid chortled excitedly, "I was wondering when you four would come see me, I'm gonna set up some tea and rock cakes." As the words were still fresh on his lips Ron regurgitated three slugs on Hagrid's oversized boots, "Or not."

"Excuse Ron," Hermione fussed about the red haired boy as she led him into kitchen area of the hut, "he's was unfortunate enough to have a rather putrid curse rebound on him."

Kurt made himself comfortable next to Harry at the kitchen table as Hagrid handed Ron a large copper basin for his slugs, "Better out than in I guess," nobody laughed at the joke except Hagrid himself, Kurt tried to smile supportively but he's sure it appeared as a grimace, "who was he trying to curse?"

"Malfoy," Harry said defiantly but quickly changed his tone to a defensive one, "he called Hermione a… I don't know what it means."

He turned to Hermione but she didn't seem able to assimilate any words other than a distant shudder of the word as though reliving the moment, silenced by the gall of the blond boy to use such language in a school, "Mudblood."

"He wouldn't," Hagrid gasped with eyes much larger than saucers, the black irises looked more like automobile tires.

Ron took a moment to raise his head from its current home at the brim of the copper mixing bowl to utter the words, "Oh yes he did," followed by an onslaught of slugs that earned him a gentle pat on the back from Hagrid.

Harry spoke in a voice that was small and riddled with embarrassment, "What does it mean?" he didn't dare repeat it out of fear he'd offend people all over again, "The word."

"It's a prejudicial slur for people like Hermione and I," Kurt didn't let Draco's potty mouth get his blood boiling and was able to relay the information Ron had once imparted onto him, "it means dirty blood, it's a derogatory term used by those who believe in pureblood supremacy against muggle born witches and wizards."

"Hogwash is what it is," Hagrid exclaimed indignantly forcing Kurt to let out a startled breath, "Most wizards now days are half-blood or less and I can't think of a spell Hermione or Kurt here couldn't do." Hagrid tilted his head and furrowed his brow, "Kurt, is there something different about you?"

"Not at all," Kurt smiled sweetly and adjusted the tilt of his spectacles on the bridge of his nose.

"Hmmm," the tension in his brow didn't ease for a moment before he turned to Harry, "oh, I've something to show you. Not you Ron, you deslug to right where you are."

The exceptionally large man led them out the back way and into his pumpkin patch that seemed to fit him well as it too was decked with unnaturally large produce, they wouldn't have guessed that this was what he wanted to show them had it not been for Hagrid's barely passable acapella drumroll and trumpets of arrival.

"Pumpkins?" Harry didn't seem too taken by the vegetable patch, "your pumpkins are impressive and all but I'm not impressed."

"I've been growing them myself," Hagrid announced in a prideful tone, "they're for the Halloween feast, I've been helping them along some."

Harry's eyes grew wide when the man nodded toward an old pink umbrella leaning against his hut, "but Hagrid, you aren't allowed to do magic."

"Wait," Kurt suddenly realised something, "Wizards can enlarge food yet there's still world hunger? You guys are all dicks."

Hermione seemed to have latched onto a different part of the conversation and was looking back and forth from Harry to Hagrid, "Why isn't he allowed to do magic? Why aren't you allowed to do magic?" She asked the pair but she didn't receive an answer.

Thank you for reading and I hope you all liked it.