A/n: From this point the AU qualities of this story are about to come to fruition.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, glee or their characters.

"Morning," Kurt smiled sweetly at his friends as slid into the bench beside Harry.

"Kurt," Ron's coffee dribbled down his chin as he spoke, "We haven't seen you in ages, we thought you'd transferred schools."

"I considered it," Kurt scrunched his nose at the breakfast spread and elected to eat his toast dry, "there's a monster somewhere nobody knows that's out to kill me, my best friend and my brother... other people too."

"Surely you're overreacting," Harry raised a quizzical brow.

"Overreacting?" Kurt took a deep breath, "Which part of kill don't you understand?"

"Voldemort wanted to kill me but I still went after the stone because it was right thing to do," Harry countered.

"You are an idiot," Kurt pointed at the point perfectly between his eyes, "Fuck the right thing to do, fuck Voldemort, fuck the chamber of secrets and who the fuck is that staring at me?"

They all followed his extended finger to the growling first year girl, "That's my sister!" Ron exclaimed defensively before turning to her and whispering quite loudly, "Ginny stop it, you're being weird."

"Wait a minute, ignore the weirdo and backtrack just a second; What does this rant mean?" Neville was shocked by what Kurt was saying, "are you leaving?"

"Hell no," Kurt countered with a giggle, "I couldn't find anywhere better to go, I'd hate to disadvantage myself scholastically by trying a new medium of instruction this late in my scholastic career; mostly I just had to get that off my chest."

"So where have you been?" Ron demanded.

"The library," Kurt rolled his eyes, "if you have to ask you'll never know, I was checking the newspaper records for attacks in the school."

"And?" Harry pressed.

"Nothing," Kurt shrugged, "but between teaching Neville Occlumency and my normal school load I haven't gotten very far, I've only gone back thirty-five years."

"You went back thirty-five years in a week?" Ron sprayed his scrambled eggs all over himself.

"In two week," Kurt hung his head, "I'll do better now that I'm done with my reading for the year."

"How are you done?" Ron almost choked on his scone, "It's November!"

"I'm sorry that I am moving so slowly but all my summer reading had to move into the year."

"Kurt," Harry's voice was reassuring, "nobody is criticizing you, everyone's impressed."

"I haven't even started looking into the monster," Kurt mumbled to himself, "but now that Neville and I are almost done I can move on to that."

"We're done?"

"Stunning spell?"

"Stupify," Neville's eyes grew wide, "I knew that!"

"Now we just have to work on how you're going to hone the skill on your own." Kurt was scanning the room for Hermione when his gaze fell on a horrific monstrosity, "Oh god."

"It's bad isn't it?" Hermione scowled and let out a defeated sigh.

The boys sniggered, "What happened to you?"

"Lavender asked if she could braid my hair into pigtails like hers," Hermione buried her head in her hands, "And then when she'd done one side... she said it was too thick... and left me like that."

"So you tried to do the other side?"

"Yes," Hermione sobbed violently into her hands, "I couldn't... I couldn't get it undone."

"Why..." Kurt's voice broke as he suppressed a laugh, "Why are there three? And what's the story with the unbraided patch?"

"I..." Hermione's answer was muffled by her crying into her hands.

"I can't understand you when you're crying," Kurt handed her a pink Kleenex.

She pulled herself toward herself and took a deep clearing breath, "Please say you can help me look exponentially better, not just than I do at this moment but than ever just to spite her and the rest of those giggling bitches."

"Language Hermione," Ron's jaw dropped.

"If you'll excuse us," Kurt ushered Hermione out of the great hall and out toward the ladies lavatory. As soon as they were securely within the sanctuary of Mertyl's bathroom Kurt looked deep into Hermione's eyes, "What were you and Lavender discussing as she worked on your hair?"

Hermione looked confused by the question, "nothing important, she asked me some about you and about Harry."

"Oh Hermione," Mertyl smiled broadly, looking at the second year girl's dishevelled hair, "You look terrible."

"Really Mertyl?" she shrugged and floated off, Kurt turned to Hermione and started working on her hair, "Just us?"

"Then she asked about Ron but then our conversation was cut short by her declaration that my hair wasn't particularly malleable," Hermione wasn't sure of the importance of this information as Kurt was unbraiding her hair.

"She is so thirsty!"

"What?"

"She was testing you," Kurt levelled with her as he brushed her bushy hair back into standard formation, "she wanted to see if you were interested in any of the three of us but because clearly you aren't into any of us her thought process can't fathom the idea of exclusively having male friends and so she assumed that because you weren't interested in Harry and I, then-"

"Then I was into Ron?" Hermione scrunched up her face, "Oh my god, I think I'm going to be sick"

"She is obviously into him and views your friendship as threat," Kurt smiled devilishly.

Hermione matched his expression, "I feel like we should play from this little event."

"She did set the rules," Kurt shrugged.

Suddenly the red haired first year who'd been staring at him earlier stormed into the bathroom with her diary in hand but stopped dead in her tracks when she spotted the pair, "What are you doing here?"

"Who are you to ask us what we're doing in a girls bathroom?" Kurt demanded. She turned on her heals and headed out of the bathroom, Kurt looked at Hermione quizzically, "She is so weird."

"Hey," Hermione squealed, "We're weird."

Kurt gave it a moment's thought, "Yea but we're weird together, what's her name again?"

"Ginny Weasley."

"Should we be friends with her?"

"I'm not sure if she's our cup of tea," Hermione shook her head, "ouch."

"If you held still then we wouldn't have a problem, speak with your mouth not your head," Kurt carried on working with her hair, "Go on, tell me more."

"Well, she doesn't seem very bright," Hermione giggled, "Clearly the Weasley gene pool is a wasting asset."

"Are you telling me Fred and George got the last of the good stuff?"

"All she ever does sit there and stare at Harry," Hermione let out a groan, "Do you know how hard it is to scheme, plan and play Nancy Drew when you're being watched by a lost little girl."

"Speaking of Nancy Drew," Kurt didn't know when Finn's quip had become official lingo but went with it none the less, "When are we speaking to Draco?"

"Harry suggested during the break which I thought was a good idea."

"Draco's a mommy's boy," Kurt pointed out to her, "He's going home over the break and so am I."

"We'll have to do it before the break," Hermione started thinking hard, "What are you working on because we need a sleeping draft to get rid of the people we're impersonating, we need to get Slytherin robes and..."

"Don't worry," Kurt smiled and patted her head reassuringly, "I'll delegate."

"And how exactly are you going to do that?"

Kurt smiled and turned her to the mirror, "I have my ways."

~0~

Kurt loved to watch disasters but he had to rip himself away from Lockhart and Harry's re-enactment of A Voyage with Vampires to deal with business, he tapped Finn on the shoulder, "Sweetheart, I'm going to need a favour."

"Anything."

"I'm going to need a powerful sleeping draft," Kurt gave his brother a toothy grin, "disguise as something tempting."

"Nancy Drew?" the boy furrowed his brow.

"Nancy Drew."

"I'm guessing my discretion is key?" Kurt nodded, "How are you going to make it worth my while."

"Oh, it'll be worth your while when Christmas comes around," Kurt smiled devilishly, "I know exactly what you want."

"oh," Finn mockingly let his jaw go slack and matched Kurt's tone as he spoke, "and tell me how you came by such information."

"Oh sweetheart," Kurt leaned in close and whispered the last few words, "I'm a teenage boy too."

"Preteen," Finn smiled broadly.

~0~

"Neville," Kurt smiled at the round faced boy as he pulled him aside before they headed in for lunch, "Can I have a moment."

"A... moment?"

"How's your grandmother?" Kurt pursed his lips, "is she well?"

"I... think so," Neville scratched his head nervously.

"Don't be nervous," Kurt put a reassuring hand on the boy's shoulder, "I need your help."

"I'll do anything I can to help," Neville was taking deep steadying breaths as he nodded along with his words.

"I was almost expelled for slapping Draco Malfoy," Kurt smiled at the memory, "my ass was saved by one voice of reason, his mother seems to recognise the jackass that he is. The Hogwarts Board of Governors is not our friend and my research has led me to discover the only power that can overturn any of their rulings and I need your help making them effective."

"I don't understand."

"Let me help you understand," Kurt levelled with the blue eyed boy, "The Board of Trustees has power because they keep the school running with their donations, the problem right now is that the Board of Trustees is kind of defunct; if we are to make this school our own then we need to change that."

"Wait, when did we decide we were taking this school?" Neville raised a quizzical brow, "Not important. What do you need me to do?"

"The Board of Trustees is made up of the schools eight most generous contributors," Kurt smiled broadly, "We need to out bid them."

"What?"

"I wrote my parent and grandparents a very touching letter telling them I needed a lot of money to buy some happiness," Kurt bowed his head, "They were sceptical but I won out. Now, all I need are some butts to fill the seats and I want your Grandmother in one of my seats."

"Okay..."

"Send this to her," Kurt pinched the boys cheek.

"Okay, I'm on it."

"Thank you Love."

~0~

Kurt kept his features schooled as he walked through the throngs of fourth year students and pointed to the pair of he was looking to talk to, gesturing to be followed.

"Kurt," Fred smirked.

"We haven't been seeing you around," George shook his head.

"But now," Fred hung his hands, "here you are."

George leaned forward, "Standing before us."

"We thinks you want something," they said in chorus.

"How are my favourite..." Kurt ran through his mind for an ending to that statement, "red-heads?"

"Hmm," Fred raised a brow.

George pursed his lips, "Weak."

"I know I haven't been playing by the rules-"

George interrupted him, "playing by the rules?"

"You've been petrifying your enemies," Fred wagged a disappointed finger.

"And you didn't ask for a list of recommendations."

"We have enemies too," Fred went on.

"Enemies we want gone," George smiled.

"Enemies like Marcus Flint."

"Or pretty boy Cedric Diggory."

Kurt raised his hands to call for silence, "I would love to hear the entire list of your enemies but some other time."

"So," George raised a brow.

Fred crossed his arms, "To what do we owe this pleasure."

"I need favour," Kurt waited for more banter but it didn't come, "On Sunday at the end of dinner I need for you to cause a large distraction that will last for all of ten minutes."

"And what do we get out of it?" they said in chorus.

"What do you want?"

"You'll owe us one," they agreed.

Kurt turned to leave but stopped short and handed the twins an envelope from his personal stationary, "Won't you send this to your mother for me."

~0~

Kurt sat beside Hermione among their thinning group of friends in the back row of their Friday morning Charms lesson and leaned in toward her, "We're taking the school."

"And where exactly are we taking it?" Hermione whispered back.

"Really."

"Like a hostile takeover?" Hermione whispered her words but that didn't detract from her tone of surprise, "And who do you suppose replacing Dumbledore with?"

"This goes much higher than the headmaster," Kurt smiled sweetly, "we're seizing the power to veto any board decisions."

"Why are we doing that?" Hermione raised a brow, "that just sounds like extra work."

Kurt brushed off the suggestion of it being unnecessary work, "All I had to do was write a couple of letters delegating the task to my parents."

"I don't understand," Hermione looked mortified to be saying the words, "How can your muggle parents seize Hogwarts, they can't even see it."

"There's a Board of Trustees that has been defunct for almost a century," Kurt leaned in and smiled as he revealed the true genius of his idea, "It used to be made up of all the wealthy pure-blood families like the Blacks and Malfoys. The board served to subsidise cost during the various renovations of Hogwarts but at some point the schools costs peaked and the board was no longer necessary. My research has led me to believe that the board was never officially dismantled, this is where it gets good, you can oust a member of the board by out bidding them by more than fifty percent and I have a record of the last few bids."

"And what makes you think you can afford the entire board?"

"There are only eight seats and the clause didn't account for one thing," Kurt paused dramatically to stir Hermione's suspicions.

"Inflation?"

"All the donations are like ten galleons," Kurt giggled lightly, "I had to ask my grandparents for a thousand pounds to buy a school."

"But that's only one bid," Hermione pointed out to him, "As generous as it may be compared to what they got at the time, it only gets you one seat."

Kurt pursed his lips, "Do you remember the envelope I asked you to send to your parents?" Hermione nodded, "I'm trying to make for a free and democratic board so I sent out a few invitations to seat fillers."

"Seat fillers?"

"Mrs Longbottom, Mrs Weasley, Mr Diggory, Ms Bones-"

"Ms Bones?" Hermione queried, "like Susan Bones?"

"Yes," Kurt smiled, "I read about her in the Daily Prophet, she's a huge official at the Ministry of Magic."

"Do you think it's wise to involve the ministry?"

"We need a voice of reason," Kurt raised a questioning brow.

"Who else is on the list?"

"Dr Granger, Mrs Patil, my dad Mr Hummel and..." Kurt trailed off, "That's where it gets tricky."

"Surely we know more than seven people," Hermione furrowed her brow.

"We do," Kurt cracked his neck, "the problem is that Ravenclaw is underrepresented, we don't like them but the point of this venture is to create a well rounded board unlike the Board of Governors; I want decisions vetoed because it's the right thing to do, not because I have the board in my pocket."

"So what do you need me to do," Hermione volunteered her services as always.

Kurt chewed his lip, "We need to be social."

"Oh god no," Hermione grimaced, "I think I just burst an ovary thinking about it."

"I know the feeling."

"But do share love," Hermione tucked her hair behind her ears, "how did you come to possess this knowledge?"

Kurt smiled, "You know me, I get wind of a fresh trail and I don't let it go."

"And where did you get wind of this?"

"Harry," Hermione didn't seem illuminated, "he mentioned that Hagrid couldn't do magic, so I followed it to discover that there were only two reasons why one might not be allowed to do magic; if one is expelled from Hogwarts prior to sitting for their OWLs then they are to have their wand destroyed and are forbidden to do magic."

Kurt paused to tease Hermione but she was not having it this time, "Go on, what's the other reason?"

"If you're incarcerated in Azkaban for a second level crime or higher," Kurt looked distressed by what he was saying.

"You don't think Hagrid-"

"No," he winced, "but it means he did something very wrong."

"Have you told Harry?" Hermione looked very worried.

Kurt shook his head solemnly, "I didn't want to distress him with quidditch on Saturday, you know how much it means to him."

"I hope we haven't made a grave mistake trusting in Hagrid."

~0~

Kurt had been walking around with the final letter in his handbag for the good part of a week and it was burning a hole in his Burkin. Even whilst sitting in close proximity to Cedric Diggory in the Hufflepuff box, the only thing on his mind was the letter. Ron on the other hand was torn, he didn't know which excited him more- the quidditch match or the free food but based on his gusto for both it was evidently a close race; Kurt had brought Ron along, not because they were friends which they are, but because Hermione had an appoint with her orthodontist and he didn't want to be the odd one out.

"Kurt," Cedric's voice was low as he spoke close to the boy's ear, "tell me something about your summer, why all the secrecy?"

"I'm sure you wouldn't believe me if I told you," Kurt smiled, trying to suppress the red tinge creeping up his neck.

"Try me."

"Well," Kurt giggled nervously before giving himself a pep talk, "Grand Master Iroh's eccentricities are vast and many. One event that sticks out was the night before we closed; he came into each of our tents to wake us:

...

"Get up losers!" Kurt stirred from his death like slumber and groggily got out of his sleeping quarters under the assumption that morning had come but was greeted by the night sky, a sight he'd come to cherish, "we're going to ride dragons."

Kurt's heart had skipped a beat and caught in his throat as the other students cheered excitedly, "this is some kind of joke," Kurt had the entire camp's attention as he shook his head, "Dragon's are wizard killers, they are dangerous and it would be reckless to think that we can ride them."

"Oh look," one of the older teenagers cooed at him, "Ickle-Kurty-Kins is afraid."

A second voice rang true over the throngs of laughter, "It's past his bed time, let him go back to his blanky."

"He might have nightmares if he sees dragons," the third and final teen had chortled, "then he might wet his bed."

Kurt turned crimson and his pride got the better of him, "Don't be foolish enough to confuse my wisdom for fear." Kurt stomped his bunny slippers indignantly, "fine, you want to ride dragons? I'll show you how to ride a dragon."

Kurt had gone into his tent for a moment and emerged dressed in his equestrian gear with a smug smile on his face, masking the fear that was festering within. As he walked in time with the group he scolded himself for being foolish enough to be baited by the group of older kids but they had banded together against him from day one and he had reached the breaking point, they had this idea that he was brilliant for his age and they were wrong because he was just plain brilliant.

Kurt had stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of the beast; it was larger than a car, closer to the size of a bus or medium sized plane with a wingspan that matched that of a 747 without much effort. Kurt was taken aback because his single prior encounter with a dragon had led him to believe they must not grow that large because this one was exponentially bigger than Norbit.

"In order to mount the beast, you will need to have your wand at hand," Iroh produced his own wand, a hooked mottled short grey object, "you need to maintain eye contact at all times, this is an exercise in domination. Flagellum." His wand extended itself to a slick black leather whip, he cracked it loudly in the air, "inflamarae." The whip caught fire in the air with the sound of the second crack and the dragon bowed its head. Kurt watched the stubby balding man approached the beast, cracking his whip in the air once more before mounting at the nape of the Dragons neck, "Tickle to arouse. It's like lion taming, you have to confuse it long enough to mount and then it's just like riding a horse."

Kurt was grateful that it was not like flying as he had a grave fear of that, but regardless he knew better than to let his fear show for the sake of hubris, he took a deep breath before raising his hand, "Grand Master Iroh," He called after the man flying lazy circles above their heads, "Might I volunteer to go first."

"Of course Kurt but I've one more thing to show you," He flew high in the air and looked down out them intensely, "Dracarys."

Kurt regretted his boldness as he watched, trembling, as the large dragon breathed a large plume of black flames, "What have I got myself into?"

"Nothing to fear," one of the older kids put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, "it's just a dragon."

Kurt turned with wide eyes, "maybe in Iran it's just a dragon, but let me assure Zakiya that for me it is not just a dragon," Kurt was sweet in his word but his tone had some bite to it, "It is a beast considered so dangerous by our Government that their breeding is considered illegal." Kurt let the tension dissipate, "but thanks for the encouragement."

Kurt took a steadying breath and moved toward the dragon that was now laying in peace with Iroh off to the side, he held his wand so tightly that his knuckles looked to be as pale as the wood that they held, "Flagellum." The whip he held was as pale as the moon against the night sky and he tried his hand at waving it about but failed to produce the necessary crack, he looked to Iroh and received an encouraging nod. Kurt pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes, he went for a second attempt and there was a distant faint crack; 'third time's the charm' Kurt told himself as he flexed the muscles in his arm and created a loud strong crack, "Inflamarae." Kurt smiled devilishly and raised an elegant perfectly arched triumphant brow as he cracked the whip once more and to his glee sparks shot off the tip of the whip and curled into orange flames.

Kurt walked with tepid steps, closer to the beast that was lightly purring, with his shoulders pushed back and his chin strong so as to intimidate the beast with the power of his presence. Kurt didn't so much as bat an eyelash as he climbed and mounted the sleeping dragon, against the advisement of the Hogwarts motto Kurt tickled the dragon and it sprung to life. Every flap of its large bat like wings sent a gust of wind that wreaked havoc on Kurt's usually perfectly kept hair but the thrill of being in the air overtook his inhibitions and prevented him from caring; for the first time he understood Harry, not the brooding and self sacrificing image but the boy who loved to fly for it granted him freedoms that his life had never allowed before.

"Dracarys," Kurt purred the words as he let go the reigns that had steered the dragon into a nosedive and the black flames to engulf both himself and his steed as the cinders danced on the delicate skin of his face, fear forgotten.

...

"You do tell a story with exceptional skill," Cedric smiled as Kurt's final words danced in the biting autumn air, "What possess someone with your wisdom to ride a dragon?"

Kurt tried to suppress his blush, "Hubris, I couldn't be anything but the best. I feared dragons more than almost anything and yet the idea of those strangers thinking any less of me was much greater."

"Some might consider that a fatal flaw," Cedric's voice was light but his words heavy, "risking one's own wellbeing for the sake of one's public image."

Kurt gave a shy yet dazzling smile, "it's why I'm in Slytherin."

There was a minor awkward silence in the elevated box as they tried to watch the quidditch match as they had set out to do, that silence was broken when Ron spat a mouthful of hazelnuts onto the nape of Kurt's neck, "what's up with Harry and that bludger?"

Kurt was sizzling as he turned to face the flame haired, "You can't behave yourself? Even during the people?"

Ron pointed frantically toward the pitch but it didn't deter Kurt, "It's going to kill Harry."

"I'm going to kill you," Kurt narrowed his eyes.

"Look," Finn shouted, pointing loops and squiggles out onto the pitch. Kurt watched as his friend frantically darted about the quidditch pitch.

"Where's Hermione when you need her?" Ron whined, "Guess I'll have to take care of it."

Kurt's eyes grew wide, "not a chance in hell. If I let you attempt to stop that bludger, between the broken wand and your incompetence, it'll be raining Harry.

"Oh, and what exactly do you suggest?"

"Naturally," Kurt tilted his head with endearment, "I'd suggest alerting an authority figure but I know that wouldn't suffice; we need someone with great hand-eye coordination and a steady hand." Kurt turned to the dark-haired boy, "Finn, I'm going to need your assistance."

Kurt instructed the boy on the incantation and wand movement before moving toward the front of the box and filling his lungs with air, "Harry! Fly toward Fred and George! Fred, George, beat it in this direction!"

"Really Kurt," Anthony Ricket asked with wide eyes, "this direction?"

"Finn," Kurt laid a reassuring hand on his brother's shoulder, "get ready, if you miss and hit somebody they will plumit to the ground."

"No pressure?" the boy asked nervously.

"No pressure," Kurt smiled encouragingly, watching his plan fall into place; Harry flew straight at the Weasley twins but ducked into a nosedive within inches of the duo, George swung his bat and hit the bludger in their direction, "Any second would do Finn." His brother stood with his wand extended but didn't move a muscle, "Finn?" the bludger was growing closer, "Oh for heaven's sake," Kurt pulled out his own wand and said a little prayer, "Finite incantatem."

The bludger stopped dead within inches of their faces and dropped like the stone it was, "Well, that happened."

"I miss Hermione," Kurt fell back into his seat with a tired huff.

~0~

Kurt and Hermione had spent the better part of the afternoon putting the finishing touches on their plan to invade the Slytherin Dungeon; Kurt felt off about the name but, again, that had fallen on Ron as it was tangential to his idea. They were sitting in the library after dinner when he decided to voice his doubts for the last time.

"This is a bad idea," Kurt said firmly, "not just experimenting with a potion that we've never more than read of but everything."

"It's mostly your idea," Harry pointed out.

"I may have made the plans and the hard decisions but it was Ron who came up with this ludicrous theory."

"Ludicrous?" Ron gasped deeply, "what does he have to do with this?"

Hermione looked to the boys, "I'm with Kurt on this one."

"Is there ever one where you're not with Kurt?" Ron scolded back.

"Plenty," she said smacking her hand hard over his mouth, "but this theory is quite flimsy, Draco as the Heir of Slytherin is a theory that has zero factual support, did we learn nothing with the Snape blunder of last year?"

"His whole family has been in Slytherin since before most can remember," Ron exclaimed.

Kurt tilted his head, "the lot of your family has been in Gryffindor, are you descendents of Godric Gryffindor?"

Ron popped his collar, "I like to think so."

This statement earned him a smack on the back of the head from Kurt, "Also, my research has led me to believe that there have been many claims but only two of those claimed prior openings of the Chamber of Secrets in recent history match this claim, so I checked these with the enrolment registry and they don't match up with any of the Malfoy's school days."

"Where did you learn that?" Hermione asked with wide eyes.

"In the Hall of Records," Kurt smiled slyly, "I confunded Professor Binns's hands into signing an admission slip."

"And who exactly was here when they were opened?" Ron demanded loudly.

"You expect me to learn all eight hundred names from both claimed openings?"

"You keep saying 'claimed'," harry pointed out, "Do you not believe that the Chamber was truly opened?"

"No," Kurt bowed his head, "The legend expressly says 'purge' which at the time implied 'kill', but almost nobody was killed in any of the claims except for two, the two that I did further research on. My theory is that some people are just being very badly behaved, Hermione and I know the petrifaction curse and those three deaths could be a spell gone awry or possibly the killing curse."

Hermione looked scandalised, "that would mean that we're at school with a particularly dark wizard."

"It makes more sense than a monster over a thousand years old," Kurt shrugged but he was startled by a loud pop.

"Dobby?" Harry furrowed his brow, "what are you doing here?"

"Dobby?" Hermione raised a bushy brow, "as in the house elf who warned you not to return to Hogwarts?"

"I thought you couldn't apparate on the Hogwarts grounds," Kurt waved a finger in the air.

"House elves can," a light distant voice said from behind them, "their magic is different from ours and thus allows them to do things wizards can't do, it's one of the main reason they were enslaved by wizardkind."

"Enslaved?" Kurt and Hermione droned simultaneously with horrified expressions.

"How long have you been standing there?" Ron asked the first year girl.

"Not long," the girl's waist length blond hair swished like stands of white gold as she swayed from side to side, "Madam Pince sent me to ask the idiot who is bellowing at the top of their lungs to shut it."

She giggled as she said the last of her piece, the group turned from her to Ron with searing looks and by the time they turned back toward her she was gone.

"She was weird," Ron snorted.

"Your face is weird," Hermione countered.

"What?" Kurt turned to Harry with a confused look on his face.

"I thought you were the one mumbling," the dark haired boy shrugged.

Kurt wagged a disapproving finger, "I never mumble, my Oma says it's most unattractive in a man."

"Hmmm," Harry shrugged, "Could have sworn I heard you say you wanted something."

"I want a cup of coffee," Kurt stretched and flexed the muscles in his back, "I am tired."

"Concentrate on the house elf," Hermione snapped her fingers at the duo, "Sorry for keeping you waiting."

"Dobby has come to warn Harry Potter that he should not have returned to Hogwarts," Kurt watched the diminutive doe eyed creature crouch into himself as he spoke, "Hogwarts is not safe this year."

"Why isn't it safe Dobby?" Hermione's voice was as soothing as sweet tea.

"History is to repeat itself," Dobby clasped his hands over his mouth, "I thought Harry Potter was safe after he missed the train but Dobby heard his master talking about Harry Potter being at Hogwarts, so Dobby tried to show Harry Potter that Hogwarts was no longer safe but his bludger was stopped."

"That was you?" Harry exclaimed.

"Dobby felt dreadful," the elf looked on the verge of tears, "I had to iron my hands as punishment."

"Self harm is very serious," Kurt looked horrified, "You don't have to hurt yourself to know that something is wrong, a simple 'bad Dobby' would suffice."

"Dobby's master told him to punish himself when he does something wrong."

"Was he specific as to what wrong is?" Kurt raised a quizzical brow.

"Not really."

"There you go," Kurt smiled, "Simply change your perceptions of right and wrong."

"Can Dobby do that?" the house elf's bat like eats piqued in interest.

"Why not?" Kurt knew he had the house elf's trust, "Dobby, do you know who opened the Chamber of Secrets the last time."

"Dobby was forbidden to say," he twitched nervously.

"Can you write it down?" Hermione caught onto Kurt's wavelength.

"Dobby doesn't know how to read and write."

"Maybe Kurt could teach you to read and write," Ron suggested.

"I would love nothing more in a general context," Kurt assured Dobby, "but it wouldn't serve a purpose right now."

"Dobby will make a plan," he snapped his fingers and disappeared.

Kurt looked to his group of friends, "Now I'm worried."

"Off to bed," Madam Pince appeared suddenly, "Library is closing and that scoundrel that was making noise best not return."

Kurt packed his book whilst the vulture like librarian looked on beadily, she shooed them out of the library and into the dark deserted corridor.

"Well," Harry shrugged with confusion evident on his face, "that happened."

It was Hermione who called after Kurt who had taken off up the hallway, "Where are you off to? The Slytherin dungeon is the other way."

"Laundry," Kurt shrugged as he walked off, "to get uniforms for tomorrow." His friends looked rather confused, "You don't think you're going to wear your Gryffindor robes, do you? I also doubt they'd fit Millicent, Vincent and Gregory as they are quite heavy set. Come along, Gryffindor tower is this way."

"We know which way it is," Ron rolled his eyes as they followed Kurt.

"I'm not disputing that," Kurt shouted back from the antechamber adjacent to the grand staircase, Kurt was caught unawares as the floor seemed to come flying towards him; he was falling, "God save the queen." As his vision steadied itself a knowing dawned on Kurt, for the second time that year he had walked into Collin Creevey but there was no flashing cameras or endless babbling which was odd considering Harry's proximity.

"Oh god," Hermione clasped her hand over her mouth, "He's been petrified."

"And we're at the scene of the crime," Ron whined.

"What should we do?" Hermione looked to him, Kurt lay unmoving as he gathered his thoughts, "Does anyone know?"

"We can't be seen here," Harry turned a hundred eighty but saw McGonagall coming down the hall and completed the rotation, "there goes that."

Kurt thought for a moment before first noticing the large door, "in there, all of you are going to have to see Draco without me tomorrow because I am about to get into a lot of shit."

Kurt pushed them into the door he'd never seen before, he then watched it vanish but knew it would arouse suspicion if nobody had been at the scene because Harry had been seen. Professor McGonagall stared icily into his soul, "What are you doing out of be-bed?" Kurt knew the instance her eyes went wide that she had seen Collin laying petrified on the ground beside him, "Did you do this?"

"No." Kurt was short with her in order to allow his friends time to get away.

McGonagall pulled her spectacles down the bridge of her narrow nose as she conjured and sent off two paper planes, for a moment Kurt wished he had his own spectacles so he could mirror her but chose to look down his nose at her, trying his best to come across as condescending, "then pray tell, what are you doing out of bed this late and far from the Slytherin dungeon?"

"I was in the library."

"The library is closed," McGonagall shook her head disapprovingly, "And you are in the wrong part of the school for that excuse."

"I was walking a first year, not this one," Kurt pointed to Collin dismissively, "back to her dormitory, kind of like a date."

"You're dating an eleven year old?"

"I said 'like a date'," Kurt pointed out his wording like it was the most obvious thing, "not actually a date."

"And who might that student be?"

Kurt tried to remember if the little blond girl had given him her name but it was to no avail, "I don't know her, she was so little and so alone my heart melted."

McGonagall tilted her head, "Convenient."

"Well," Professor Snape swished his lifeless hair as he appeared from nowhere, "is this not the school of conveniences Minerva?"

"I resent the implication," Professor McGonagall snapped back, "this is the second time he's been found at the scene of the crime."

"Twice is a coincidence," Snape drawled monotonously.

"Darlings, I'm here-" Professor Dumbledore announced elegantly before his face dropped and his shoulders slumped, "Minerva, could you once call me for shots. I feel like every time I leave my office at your request there's somekind of disaster, for heaven's sake could it once be a dance party?"

"Albus," Professor McGonagall looked affronted by the headmaster's tone, "a student has been attacked and I have reason to believe it was the doing of another student, this student."

"Oh," Professor Dumbledore put on false enthusiasm, "well, that changes nothing."

"Headmaster," Professor Snape snaked his way between the two elderly professors, "I feel that Professor McGonagall is jumping to conclusions based on circumstantial evidence, as most Gryffindors do."

"I thought I was the only one who noticed that," Kurt waved his hands with mouth gaping in astonishment.

A single look from the dark haired man silenced him and had him standing neat as a pin, "If memory serves, it falls on me to deal with the transgressions of my students."

"Indeed," Professor Dumbledore let out a large yawn and checked his watch, "Kurt, might I see you in my office at tea time tomorrow."

"Why not?" Kurt shrugged.

Professor Snape tapped his shoulder and gestured for him to follow, the man to large powerful steps that left his robes bellowing in his wake. Kurt took short quick steps that created an air of elegance with gently bounce of his robes with each step as they descended into the depths of Hogwarts, into the castle dungeons and straight into Professor Snape's office.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" the man demanded as he sat behind his desk.

Kurt wasn't sure what to say for a moment, "I have to feed Bomballerina."

"I suggest you chose your words more carefully or I might regret my actions," the man crossed his arms at a menacingly slack pace, "Now, why were you in the hallway alone late at night."

"it's actually not that late," pointed out the obvious, "the library closed like, ten minutes ago. I was on my way to the laundry room."

"And why were you on your way to the laundry room?"

"I accidently put my 'dry-clean only' blazer in my hamper."

"I know you aren't the one attacking muggleborns," the man reclined and crossed his legs, "but I suspect that you have an idea as to what's going on."

"I thought I did," Kurt's shoulders drooped under the weight of his distress.

"Very well," Professor Snape rolled his eyes as he held an embossed piece of parchment as though reading it for the hundredth time, he suddenly looked to Kurt then the parchment and back at Kurt with a wickedly triumphant yellow smile, "You're a world champion duellist, if memory serves?"

"Not world champion," Kurt shook his head violently, "I just won gold at the BAT."

"That's like winning gold at the junior Olympics," the man smiled devilishly, "you are a world champion in your age group. This will do just fine as punishment, you can aide Lockhart with his ridiculous duelling club."

~0~

Kurt reached the top of the spiral staircase hidden behind the gilded gargoyle, he brushed down the lapels on his charcoal blazer and straightened the broach holding his cloak in place before knocking firmly on the large dark wooden doors.

"Come in Kurt," Professor Dumbledore called from within the office.

Kurt entered the circular office with bookshelves that went up to the ceilings and silver contraptions all about, "Good Afternoon Professor Dumbledore."

"Sup homeboy," the elderly wizards voice trailed into falsetto.

Kurt shook his head in disappointment, "No."

"It doesn't sound right does it," the man shook his head innocently.

Kurt took his usual seat opposite the elderly man, Kurt eyed the man's magnificent flowing midnight blue robes, "I look cute, you look cute. I'm not dancing around you like I did last year, what's the deal with this Chamber of Secrets."

"Funny," the man reclined in his seat with a small chuckle, "I was going to say the same thing."

"How so?"

"I know you've been doing your research," the man smiled, "people don't just break into Hall of Records without word reaching the headmaster."

"I didn't break in," Kurt leaned forward and smiled, "that makes me sound like a common thief, I simply made use of alternate methods of entrance and I had slip."

"Nice reframe," Dumbledore twiddled his thumbs, "but I see that you're trying to distract me."

"I'm not here to give you information," Kurt crossed his arms and pursed his lips, "but rather to get information from you."

"Oh, is that so?"

Kurt raised an eyebrow, "So, is the Chamber of Secrets real?"

"What has your research told you?"

"There have been five rumoured openings in the last three hundred years," Kurt rolled his eyes, "of which several are potentially false."

"Potentially false?"

"These openings had no deaths," Kurt yawned, "they could simply have been idiots playing with the petrifying curse but that's also what this entire thing could me, and the deaths could be boldness in the form of the killing curse or incompetency in a failed petrifaction that resulted in death."

"My turn," Professor Dumbledore leaned forward, "try to stay awake. The Chamber of Secrets is very real."

"Who opened it?"

"Who do you think opened it?"

Kurt looked to his nails, "Ron thinks it's the Malfoys."

Dumbledore stifled a laugh, "And what do you believe?"

"I believe the 'who' isn't important," Kurt shook his head, "If this thing is real then it doesn't matter who controls the beast, the beast is the problem. The only purpose that this person serves would be to clear Harry and I of the rumours circulating about us."

Dumbledore raised a brow, "How is the Heir of Slytherin going to prove that you aren't dating Harry Potter?"

Kurt's mouth fell open, "People think I'm dating Harry Potter."

"Oh yes," Dumbledore snickered, "you saving his life yesterday only served to intensify the rumours, people think you're two crazy lovers out to destroy your enemies with the power of Salazar Slytherin's monster."

Kurt guffawed at the ludicrous notion, "people actually believe that?"

"You'd be surprised the things people will believe," the elderly wizard tilted his head forward and smiled, "Story time."

"I never did understand why it is you tell me all these stories but cool."

"This one's good," the man rested his chin on the heels of his hands, "there once was a man named Michael Finnegan, he grew whiskers-"

"Stop," Kurt raised his hand in protest, "I know that one."

The elderly wizard's eyes grew wide, "you do? How does it go?"

"He grows whiskers on his chin, gets fat and then thin before his untimely death."

"Oh," Professor Dumbledore's face dropped, "you do know it."

"So, are we just not going to talk about the Chamber of Secrets?"

"The Board of Governors and I have decided not to startle the students by discussing that matter," he held his hands up in defeat, "As headmaster I am bound to honour the wishes of the board."

"Can you nod or shake your head?"

"Can I what?"

"It's obvious that you can't answer questions outright," Kurt egged the man on hoping he would catch on, "but nodding your head isn't saying anything."

"Oh," Professor Dumbledore nodded as he spoke, "you're good."

"I am," Kurt brushed aside a stray hair, "Do you know where the Chamber of Secrets is?"

Head shake, 'No'.

"Let's back track," Kurt wracked his mind for the right question, "Do you know, with definitive proof who was responsible for prior opening?"

Shrug, 'I have a hunch'.

"I'm not interested in hunches," Kurt dismissed the man's notions, "Do you know what the monster is?"

Head shake, 'No', with a touch too much attitude.

"Do you know how to stop the attacks?"

Head Shake, 'No'.

"Will you close the school if the attacks persist?"

Nod, 'Yes'.

"Is that what happened the last time?"

Silence.

"Did they threaten to shut the school down?"

Nod, 'Yes'.

"Has anybody ever been held responsible for an opening of the Chamber of Secrets?"

Nod, 'Yes'.

"Do I know or know of this person?"

The elderly wizard's eyes shone bright as he narrowed them, "I don't what you know."

Hope you love it!

Flagellum: According to google translate, is latin for whip.

Dracarys: Valyrian for Dragon fire.