A/n: At some point I used the correct day of the week for a date and if I don't stick to that as trend then it throws off my whole game.
There is a continuity error; i had previously said that Cedric takes Ancient Runes and Arithmancy (Chapter 9 of Book 2, Ch 20), this was before I created a real time table and it makes that subject combination impossible in my universe. it is now corrected to Arithmancy and Care for Magical Creatures.
When Kurt got to Muggle Studies he was starving and he was sure that he had never been so glad that it was Wednesday before, when he had arrived Professor Burbage's not-Mother handed him a devil's food cupcake, "Mrs Markowitz, you make my life."
"Oh, you are too kind Curtis," she smiled broadly at him but suddenly her eyes widened, "Kurt Elizabeth, I'm so sorry my second husband was Curtis and he went by Kurt."
"This cupcake makes me forgive you," Kurt followed Hermione to their work station, on Wednesday when Mrs Markowitz's was teaching the class was arranged in a row of five test kitchenettes, "Hermione, are you going to eat yours?"
"People might think you're pregnant with that hunger," Hermione tease as she ate her cupcake, "Why are you monstrously starving?"
"I've been up for forever and it's been a while since breakfast," Kurt groaned, "I had to practice for our charms prac between breakfast and Charms, which was like a lifetime ago. Besides, Cedric and I have been keeping it chaste until the third date."
"Won't that be like five months from now," Hermione raised a confused brow.
"Exactly," Kurt smiled devilishly, "He's not getting to second base till then, and that's based on how great a gift I get for Christmas."
"In my day we waited for marriage," Mrs Markowitz scolded from the front of the class, Hermione and Kurt blushed brightly, "but then again I was married before my nineteenth birthday. Today we begin to tackle the art of party planning; this exercise will start with budgeting then flow into muggle cuisine which will be followed by writing with a pen as well as the use of type writer and finally we will wrestle basic muggle etiquette, are there any questions?"
"How old were you when you married you second husband?" Finn asked with wriggle of his eyebrows.
"Oh, it was back when people raised their hands before speaking," she gave a saccharine smile, "and children had complete names, Finn." Kurt chuckled at her ladylike gibes, he loved the way she always had something reproachful to say but more so the way she managed to say it in the most polite manner. Mrs Markowitz began to write on the board, outlining the steps that she advised them to undertake, "Get to work."
"Why are you so hungry?" Hermione tilted her head like Bomballerina often did when Kurt read to her, the look told him that what he was trying to communicate simply wasn't going through, "what happened to energy bars you eat?"
"Carole didn't send any this morning," Kurt furrowed his brow as he scrawled the quick outline of a menu, "I might have sworn it wasn't Wednesday when I didn't get my standard package."
"Oh, I'm sure it will be here before the day is through," Hermione seemed to reassure him, "What do you have on your menu?"
Kurt smiled at her attempt to distract him from over thinking Carole's transgression; "I have cheesecake as a starter, cheesecake for main and…" Kurt blushed at his realisation that his hunger had taken grip of him, "cheesecake for desert."
"My menu is little more varied than yours, not that there is anything wrong with an all cheesecake meal," Hermione took a moment from her criticism of Kurt's cheesecake craving, "But I get where you're going with this; have you considered maybe replacing the first cheesecake with by chance, a light salmon salad? And perhaps having coq au vin instead of the second cheesecake, but those are just a few ideas I had and I'm just throwing them out there."
Kurt laughed, at first it was controlled and melodic like silver whistle but it soon escalated to a point of uncontrolled boisterousness, "this is so strange."
"Not eating cheesecake as a meal? Carole's cooking wasn't actually that bad" Hermione raised a curious brow, "why is this entertaining you so much?"
"Also, you had her stroganoff and that's the one thing she can cook, her pot roasts taste like Finn's shoes smell; when that's your life, cheesecake will become a meal. It's just," Kurt took a break from laughing but his breathing was still staggered, "I'm taking twelve subjects but I still have time to read fiction because we are just being normal."
"Thirty hour days aside," Hermione quirked a brow.
"Thirty hour days aside," Kurt laughed as they listed the ingredient and cost of their faux dinner party, "Although I didn't sleep well yesterday it was because I was reading the last of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy; Hector is so right about that book, it is the best book ever written."
"It was truly interesting," Hermione's cheeks perked up, "if not a tad juvenile."
"But that's the beauty of it," Kurt jolted violently as he spoke, "Mr Douglas Adams gives a truly fascinating analysis of the human race and forks out unparalleled philosophy within the confines of story line that could entertain a five year old."
"I feel that the point of the book was lost in the mess of childish frivolities," Hermione said before lifting her hands in surrender, "but let's agree to disagree. How ordinary of us, discussing a book that doesn't eat people's faces or tell us how to stop people's faces from being eaten."
"I think I missed Harry Potter and the Dr Hannibal Lecter Curse," Kurt pursed his lips, "but I get what you mean, we are being pretty normal teens and it's so refreshing; you have a boyfriend, I'm going to make my boyfriend official soon, Harry and Ron are doing reasonably well in school; we're turning a corner this year and hopefully Voldemort isn't waiting on the other side."
"You say his name with such casualness," Hermione looked reproachful.
"What? Dr Hannibal Lecter?" Kurt gave Hermione a blank stare, "just because he ate people doesn't take away the fact that he was a qualified medical professional."
"You know who I mean," Hermione scolded.
Kurt pursed his lips, he'd never personally thought anything of his use of the name but rather chose when to use it based on the people in his periphery's predicted reaction, "I don't have a reason to be afraid, to me it's just like saying the name of any other historic figure. Maybe if I'd lived through the tyranny of the time I'd feel differently but he's gone so it doesn't make sense to be afraid of something that can't get me."
"I can get you," Mrs Markowitz smiled as she came up behind him, "so I advise you to get on with your work."
"Mrs Markowitz," Hermione smiled and looked at the woman, "When can we go into the pantry?"
"We'll get to that next time, for today it's just planning," she gave polite and maternal smile, laying a gentle hand on each of their shoulders, "but be sure to coordinate completely, that includes place settings." She moved to speak to the class at large, "you need to learn to understand the way things filter down from even the smallest details, without that you will never understand muggle ecology."
"Do you not feel that your glee is slightly premature?" Hermione went on as soon as the elder woman was out of earshot, "Last year's problems didn't start till after Halloween-" Hermione stopped and furrowed her brow in profound contemplation, "Come to think of it, Professor Quirrel first went after the philosopher's stone on Halloween."
"And weren't Harry's parents attacked on Halloween? Seems to be a pattern," Kurt's eyes grew wide as he was writing invitations and place cards in his elaborately looped handwriting, "Does this mean I have to cancel my date because I've waited two years for him to ask me out."
"No, Halloween is on Sunday but close enough," Hermione shook her head dismissively, "besides, you said so yourself that he's gone." She seemed unsure of her words as they made their way over to the typewriter to prepare menus, "I expect Professor Trelawney will have some morbid predictions in store for us all the same."
"Oh yes, give me the cup, give me the cup," Kurt spoke in a wafty voice as he did an over the top impression of the Divination Professor, "child, it is not good; you are in grave danger of getting a poor result from lack of interest."
"Heavens," Hermione held the back of her hand to her forehead as if on the verge of fainting, "However shall I survive, seeing as your predictions are always so accurate."
"Has anything she predicted come true?" Kurt raised a brow, "Neville says his Grandmother has never been better and what about Lavender, what happened to her on the fifteenth?"
"I think her rabbit died but that came as a shock to her which means she hadn't been dreading it," Hermione rolled her eyes as she sat down in front of the machine, "but that had been all the proof that Lavender and Pavarti had needed, they have been up in that tower whenever they can manage it which I'm not complaining about because it means they aren't always giggling while I'm studying in our room. It's all rather silly when you think about it, basing any decision on the all-seeing third eye of a woman who bumps into her table six times each lesson and has no written form of testing."
"I'm sorry but could you believe that Tessomancy test?" Kurt's eyes bulged in distaste, "I applied all of the practices of a true tessomance; I divided the cup into quadrants in relation to the cardinal points and read anticlockwise but I still got a 'B'!"
"I also got a 'B'!" Hermione huffed through gritted teeth, "if that had been an OWL then we would have scored an 'exceeds expectations'!"
"I'd rather be dead," Kurt scoffed.
"I'm going to be dead if you two don't finish using the typewriter soon," Mandy sneered.
"And the world will be the better for it," Hermione grumbled as she typed furiously, "I wonder if I can count that toward my community service hours."
"I'm sure they'll award us The Order of Merlin," Kurt giggled, they each shot a saccharine smile at the girl as he and Hermione got back to work. Kurt and Hermione had learned to be secretive during their time at Hogwarts, that was one of the prerequisites when one was wanting to sleuth about the school; the habit wasn't any easy one to shake and they waited to return to their workstation before resuming conversation.
"Once you're done with all the required tasks for today, you may go," Mrs Markowitz smiled brightly as some of the students started packing their books, "but know that you will not get more time next time, there is no going back."
Kurt and Hermione hooked up arms, leaving together, "You know we're so married in an alternate universe right?"
"We have four kids," Hermione nodded with a small giggle.
"They have my hair and your bone structure," Kurt pulled at her cheek playfully.
"Would you leave my hair alone," Hermione grabbed at her head defensively, "there's definitely an alternate universe where you have wild curly hair."
"That's this universe," Kurt rolled his eyes, "You keep it short and you use the right product then nobody is the wiser, how else do you think I could get it to do this?"
Hermione followed his finger to his perfectly formed hair, "I've seen the hairspray cans, try that on someone else."
"Don't be daft," Kurt shot her a reprimanding look.
"Is it like Hal and Oats?" Hermione smiled villainously.
Kurt almost toppled over laughing, "if it was that bad, I would keep it shaved."
"Did you guys find Professor Flitwick?" Ron asked as he and Harry came in from Care for Magical Creatures, Kurt and Hermione had run ahead to turn back the clock to Muggle Studies under the guise of wanting to discuss their test results with Professor Flitwick.
"No," Kurt shrugged nonchalantly, "my guess is he'll be easier to find after the school day is over, I just want to get to lunch."
"Oh yes," Neville teased as they took their seats in the great hall, "your monstrous hunger."
"I've had a long day," Kurt whined defensively.
"It's one," Harry pointed out in a neutral tone but Kurt heard it as an accusation.
"I totally understand where Kurt is coming from," Ron slung his arm over Kurt's shoulder, "you shorter folk wouldn't understand." Errol, the elderly owl, landed with the closest this he possessed to grace; falling vertically from a great height without knocking anything over, "about time The Daily Prophet got here, I was beginning to think Errol got lost."
"It seems that for a change this poor creature hasn't done anything wrong," Hermione said as she pulled out a small bag of bird seed, "everybody's getting theirs late."
Ron's eyes grew wide as he unfolded the paper, "Kurt, you're on the cover again."
"Is it a good picture?" Kurt smiled trying to get a look at the paper; it was the same picture except this time it was shown side by side with Sirius Black's Azkaban mugshot. Kurt snatched the paper from Ron's grip, "Black Spotted. In the waking hours of this morning Sirius Black III was spotted for the first time since his escape from Azkaban. Black was spotted by muggles in Dufftown, a small town in Northern Scotland, just east of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
"Not very far east," Hermione gasped nervously.
"It goes on to talk about the muggles who saw him," Kurt skimmed over the article at speed, "where does it talk about me? Because I know I don't have the kind of star power that sells papers with just a picture." Kurt croaked the words as he tried to find his name, "Huh, here it is: this reporter has been led to believe that Black is on his way to Hogwarts for a reunion with estranged son Kurt Hummel, who is rumoured to be in contact with Black."
"Estranged? Reunited?" Neville spat the words with distaste, "that git, everybody knows you never knew your birth parents, this paints it as if you simply lost contact instead-"
"Instead of being abandoned by some unknown DNA donor," Kurt completed the sentence in a way he knew nobody else would but that's how he'd come to see it; he might not have been abandoned, he'd been left with people who loved him very much, but he hadn't exactly been forcefully separated from his birth parents.
"But you don't think he's coming here," Hermione looked concerned.
"That would be the most reckless and foolish thing anyone could do," Kurt said comfortingly, "He's probably on his way south, trying to find passage out of the British Isles to somewhere he can live without persecution."
"Well, we know that's what you'd do," Ron shrugged, "but Black is a mad man."
"It's what any self-respecting Slytherin would do," Kurt countered, "we don't wait around pursuing possibilities and looking for people who might be able to help us, we help ourselves."
"And what makes you think Black was in Slytherin?" Hermione raised a quizzical brow.
"The Portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black in the Slytherin Dungeon always boasts about every Black having been in Slytherin for generations, several of them being head students," Kurt's tone was matter-of-fact before turning cold, "besides, don't all bad wizards come from Slytherin?"
"Can't fight that logic," Ron shrugged, Hermione punched him in the arm, "present company excluded."
"Besides," Neville tried to divert the conversation and alleviate the tension, "why would he come here?"
"For me," Harry grumbled, Neville paled as he realised that he'd put his foot in his mouth, "he lost everything when you-know-who was defeated."
"And you think he'd risk losing it all over again just to whack a thirteen year old," Hermione raised a brow, "seems reckless."
"He is a 'mad man'," Ron pointed out, "reasoning isn't exactly a top priority for the criminally insane."
This time both Kurt and Hermione punched him, "eat your vegetables and be quiet." Hermione seemed less than impressed, "we're trying to soothe Harry, not scare him out of his mind."
All eyes turned back to Harry, who shrugged, "I'm late for quidditch practice."
"Honey," Kurt gave a small smile as the boy walked away, "we still have double Herbology after this… there he goes Ronald, are you pleased with yourself?"
"I'm eating my vegetables," Ron said defensively.
~0~
Kurt had been awaiting the coming monthly Hogsmead visit with great glee, he was finally going on a date with Cedric Diggory and soon enough they would declare themselves a couple and the rest would be history; Kurt had thought that the heavens had put an end to that when he had woken to a down pour of rain, it was coming down in buckets but Cedric had simply conjured a large red umbrella and put his fears at bay.
"You might have to walk closer to me if you don't want to get wet," Cedric gave Kurt a reassuringly innocent smile.
"So right," Kurt tightened his scarf and moved closer as they stood in the castle's main entrance, "I, unlike Gene Kelly, am susceptible to the woes of the elements."
"Who?" Cedric gave him a look of clear confusion that immediately reminded Kurt of his wizard upbringing.
"He's a very famous muggle," Kurt explained as they walked briskly toward the gates.
Cedric didn't seem anymore illuminated by Kurt's curt explanation, "And he doesn't get sick in the rain?"
"Well, he's famous for film, which based on this weather you are going to become better acquainted with tomorrow," Kurt spoke fluidly and without a breath, "one of his most famous roles was in Singing in the Rain, one of the most iconic pieces of musical film of all time, and he has a big song and dance number in the rain."
"Interesting," Cedric seemed to mull what Kurt had said over, "Are you a big fan of music? I might have asked about Film but having never seen one I doubt I would make for a voluble match on the topic."
"I do like music," Kurt smiled at Cedric persistent effort to keep conversation within Kurt's sphere of interest, "Very much so, what do you listen to?"
"I'm moderately enthusiastic fan of The Weird Sister," Cedric admitted as if it were the biggest secret, "my father doesn't approve of their more… artistic style." Kurt looked down at his brightly coloured Versace coat and wondered if that meant that Mr Diggory would disapprove of him, "they're too grunge for his comforts."
Kurt felt that weight lifted and smiled, "I'm sure my father would disapprove as well but I'm embarrassed to say that I'm not familiar with their work, Rock has always been more of Finn's thing."
"What's more your thing?" Cedric gave a small smile, "what is it you listen to? I think I'm overdue for my turn to be embarrassed by my limited scope of knowledge."
"I like Celine Dion," Kurt blushed lightly, "When I was younger my Oma used to listen to her French albums when she visited us and I took a liking to it, she recently crossed over to English after ten years of singing in French." What Kurt was saying didn't seem to register with Cedric, "You've never heard of her, what about Phil Collins? Elton John? Queen?"
"I've heard of The Queen," Cedric's face lit up, "but I didn't know she made music."
"Different Queen," Kurt giggled, discussing the muggle world with Cedric was like talking to someone from a foreign land, he didn't know much of Kurt's way of life and Kurt found that he didn't know much of his way of life, "but I think we're making progress."
"I don't think they play very many muggle musicians on the Wireless," Cedric laughed.
"And I doubt The Weird Sisters are making the pop charts," Kurt laughed as they came to a stop in front of the tea shop that he had come to with Terry, he waited for Cedric to say something but he simply moved to open the door for Kurt, "Don't."
Kurt stopped him, "I thought it was good manners universally."
"It is," Kurt nodded then his words caught in his throat as he tried to figure out how to word this; he settled on being frank, if Cedric couldn't handle that then maybe they were incompatible, "I hate this place." Cedric's eyebrows shot up but he didn't speak, "I hate the décor, I hate the pretentious atmosphere and most of all I hate the nosey staff."
Cedric smiled, "How do you feel about The Three Broomsticks?"
"I've never been," Kurt admitted, "but I'm open to trying new things but no leather bars."
"I promise," Cedric smiled, "no leather bars."
Kurt and Cedric walked down Main Street under their umbrella, the rain had eased up but they stood close to each other anyway as they strolled through the chilly Saturday morning air, "Has Finn ever told you of our excursion to Language?"
"He has not," Cedric gave an inviting look and that been all Kurt needed and began to recount the events of that night, omitting the incidence with the tanned, bearded, New Castle native who called him a 'bird' so as not to incite unnecessary jealousy, "And what do your parents think of your cousin's exotic tastes?"
"When you're related to the people we're related to then you learn not to pass judgement," Kurt laughed along with Cedric, "I can count on one hand the times I've seen my Oma sober for more than twenty-four hours."
"That sounds healthy," Cedric joked.
"It's just like someone who smokes," Kurt explained in defence of his Oma as they seated themselves in the crowded pub, "they do it a couple of times a day, she's the same but with bourbon."
"Cedric Diggory," the waitress came over and smiled broadly at them, "how's that father of yours?"
Cedric seemed uncomfortable for a moment but answered none the less, "he's well."
"Do pass my wishes on," the woman smiled broadly; Kurt eyed her up and down, taking note of her corset that made her look more like a cancan dancer than a waitress, "be sure to tell him that I said it's been too long."
Up till this point Kurt had been silently observing but couldn't bide his curiosity any longer, "I'm sorry, I don't think we've met;" Kurt extended an inviting but cold hand, "Kurt Hummel."
"Madam Rosmerta," she took Kurt's hand in such a way as to suggest she expected a kiss on the hand, Kurt gave it an aloof shake.
Kurt gave a slight acknowledging raise of his brow, "A pleasure, I'm sure. We'll call for you when we're ready to order." Kurt punctuated the sentence with a tight lipped smile.
The woman chose to pay Kurt as much mind as he paid her as she turned and left their table, Cedric chuckled and shook his head spastically, "that wasn't a waitress, she owns the place."
"You say that like it should mean something to me," Kurt smiled devilishly, "If I'd offended her we'd have a lifetime ban by now." Kurt took one of the boy's larger hands in both of his, running the pad of his thumb over the knuckles as he spoke, "tell me, what about these hands made you quidditch captain?"
"You're the one taking divination," Cedric teased him, "shouldn't you be the one reading my palm?"
"We haven't studied palm reading yet," Kurt giggled as Cedric waved over a waitress, "but if you decide to drink scalding black tea without a strainer then I could read your tea leaves with up to seventy-seven percent accuracy."
"Impressive," Cedric nodded.
"Don't patronise me," Kurt scowled.
"You're doing much better than most," Cedric's smile showed Kurt that he was being honest, the boy turned to the waitress, "Can we have two butter beers and a cup of black tea with the tea leaved left in the cup."
"You seriously want me to read your tea leaves?" Kurt scoffed, "Professor Trelawney has frequently hinted that Hermione and I do not possess the sight."
"Well, I believe in your abilities as a seer," Cedric used his free hand to enclose both of Kurt's hands, "besides, they moved our fixture up due Draco Malfoy's injury; we're up against Gryffindor next week and Oliver Woods wants to win the quidditch cup before graduating. If you can aide my debut as captain and seeker by telling me where the snitch is going to be then I might be very grateful, I might be in your debt."
"Oh, you over estimate my abilities," Kurt laughed before he switched to his impression of Professor Trelawney, "the art of divination is about the mastery of slight observations and being completely vague, if possible say things as they happen."
"Why did you even take that class?" Cedric managed to ask between fits of laughter.
"It was a mixture of curiosity and the fact that my friends were taking it," Kurt shrugged, sipping from his tankard of butter beer; the taste of the warm frothy liquid was sweet and buttery like butterscotch candy, Kurt hadn't been expecting that, "Wow, calling it beer is so misleading."
"Don't you like it?" Cedric looked distraught by the prospect of having misjudged the situation, "I presumptuously ordered it for you, it's generally very popular."
"I don't hate it but it's lacking something," Kurt thought about how to word his thoughts, "it needs something to offset the sweetness, bring it down from the rafters, possibly lemon juice or Oma's Boozy Fruit Slab."
"I'm not sure they have your grandmother's fruity slab but I'm sure we could get you some lemon slices," Cedric waved over a waitress and put in the request on Kurt's behalf, "Not one for sweet things, I'll have to take not of that."
"I like a little complexity of flavour," Kurt said with a small smile, he'd have cramps in his cheeks when the day was through because he never smiled this much on an ordinary day, "I prefer dark chocolate over milk chocolate because I enjoy the bitterness but I'll almost always pair it with nougat."
"So you don't like sweet things?" Cedric had doubtful expression, "for someone with a sweet tooth I find it hard to wrap my head around that."
"It's not really that big a deal but to be honest I'm just not that big a fan," Kurt shook his head, "except for Turkish Delights, I can understand why Edmund sold his soul to Jadis for that shit."
"Who?"
"They're characters from this book series I read as a child," Kurt explained, "Jadis is an evil witch who seduces a young human boy with her beauty and Turkish Delights."
Cedric seemed weary of what he was being told, as if he had to take it with a pinch of salt, "Dark."
"Of course, the book is a metaphor for religion and with that comes temptation from all of the seven deadly sins," Kurt explained in a matter-of-fact tone before realising that this was probably going over Cedric's head, "And you're from a world where religion isn't a thing."
"I'm smart," Cedric teased, tracing lazy squiggles into sensitive skin on the inside of Kurt's wrist, "it's like being with someone from another land, pity you don't speak another language because that would make this much more interesting."
"I speak French," Kurt giggled lightly.
"but I too speak French," Cedric countered.
"Not very well," Kurt one upped him by bypassing the German and going straight for the Parseltongue, he had mastered speaking it at will by picturing a snake and then like any other language it would happen all on its own.
"Parseltongue?" Cedric raised his hands in surrender, "you win."
"I do," Kurt preened in the victory, "but you blindsided me on that French."
"My father encouraged it," Cedric shrugged, "He said an effective healer is able to communicate in more than one language."
"A healer?" Kurt raised an impressed brow, "You wouldn't happen to be Jewish as well because every parent aspires for their child to become or marry a Jewish doctor."
"Don't know what 'Jewish' is but for you I could be," Cedric flashed a bright white smile.
"You're just adorable," Kurt teased him, "A handsome doctor with perfect hair… that would make great character on TV show."
Cedric leaned back, "Sometimes I feel like you might as well be speaking in Parseltongue because your thought pattern is impossible to follow."
Kurt grabbed the empty tea cup, "the leaves say you should be nicer to me because it makes sense in my head."
"The tea leaves are rather wise," Cedric gave a deep chuckle and Kurt watched with fascination as his arms bulged through his sleeves as he laughed, "And surprisingly accurate, I'll do well to heed their warning."
"I am but an instrument for the divine," Kurt said in his ever improving impression of Professor Trelawney.
"You're getting really good at that," Cedric shuddered.
"If only I was as good at divination as I am at imitating the teacher."
Cedric grabbed Kurt's hands and held the cup between both of their hands, "I'm sure you'll do well enough, you might not know this but I have a bit of a gift for this."
Kurt could feel a blush creeping up the nape of his neck as he looked into Cedric's soft inviting eyes, "right you are, I won't be bested by a make believe magical discipline."
For Kurt dating as a whole was new experience and his only other experience had been so different yet in the same breath, more of the same; they smiled, held hands and talked but the energy and intention made for a polarized experienced. When Kurt had gone out with Terry it had by all definitions been a date in every sense, they had shared a meal, gotten to know each other through Q&A and they held hands; it had been just as one expected a date to be. With Cedric it was different; they were in what Kurt suspected was the underbelly of the wizarding world, they had each gotten a tankard of butter beer, and were casually enjoying each other's company. This felt more real for Kurt, granted this was an actual date.
The day had moved outside of time, the tankards had piled up but they were so engrossed in each other that it seemed no time had passed when they were ripped from their sphere of suspended time when Madam Rosmerta had rang a bell and announced last call for Hogwarts students; it was so none of the students were late returning to school. The rain had stopped when they stepped out of the pub, it had accumulated on the ground in cold puddles of slush, and in its place there was a biting breeze; Kurt wrapped his scarf around himself tightly as he walked arm in arm with Cedric down Main Street back toward the Hogwarts grounds.
"His return is almost upon us, heed the whispers!" A thin man in oversized worn clothing was standing on the edge of town, Kurt hadn't noticed the man coming into town but maybe that was because he was too preoccupied trying to get out of the rain; the man was soaked and his fingers were blue, Kurt stopped dead in his tracks.
"What's his story?" Kurt started to move closer to the man, Cedric looked confused for a moment, "Why is he just standing there?"
"He's always been there for as long as I've been coming to Hogsmead," Cedric treaded carefully, unsure what Kurt wanted from him or the strange man, "except for last year, I thought they'd carted him off to St Mungo's. He just stands there barking randomly at people as they walk by."
"Hi," Kurt approached the man carefully, making sure that his wand was within reach should this go lopsided, "are you alright?"
"You who shall most shame your mother must most fear his return," the man's voice was a croaky whisper with a distinct timbre.
"Nice try but my mother's dead," Kurt's gaze narrowed, "I 'shall' not do anything further to her."
"Heed the whispers," the trembling man warned.
Kurt took off his coat and threw it over the man's shoulders, "But just because you're off your rocker doesn't mean you aren't fucking cold, this is dry clean only so be careful."
"Beware the dark," The man held on to Kurt's face with frozen fingers, "Beware he who is named twice named. For as they have once, they shall again."
Kurt tried to pry the hands off his face but froze when he noticed the man's bare feet, "take these." Kurt took his shoes off and laid them on the ground as best he could whilst in the man's grip, "don't machine wash them, they're hand painted Hermès."
"You're giving him all your stuff?" Cedric looked concerned.
"I have lots of stuff and I can afford to replace it," Kurt pried the hands off him and dug in his purse for his money bag, he stuffed a handful of large gold coins into the pocket of the coat, "And since you paid for our drinks it's only fair I put my allowance to good use, this man might be crazy but he might still be homeless and cold, winter is hard when you're a have not."
"Wow," Cedric seemed too surprised by his compassion for Kurt's comfort, "I'm not surprised you care, I'm surprised you would do something as impulsive as giving away your shoes when there's still a muddy walk back to the castle."
"I'll shower, I have that luxury," Kurt smiled as they walked away from the man who stood mumbling to himself in the same hoarse whisper, Kurt looked back and wondered if there was anybody who cared that the man was out in the cold or if he was alone in the world.
"I feel like I should offer to carry you," Cedric held his arms out.
"Not bridal style," Kurt protested as he climbed on for a piggyback ride, "giddy up good looking, it's cold outside."
~0~
"How did you two get away with coming back late?" Hermione asked as they stood in the entrance hall after dinner, they were about to separate, they had each excused themselves early due to not being up for dinner; after an invigorating game of hockey and too many light beers, Kurt had insisted Finn offer them due to how filling ordinary beer was, they were both more than a little buzzed and too full to eat.
"I have friends in low places," Kurt wriggled his brow, "and the school bylaws allow for a student to arrive up to an hour outside the anointed Hogsmead visitation allowance if he or she is accompanied by a school prefect."
"And you dating a school prefect allowed for your transgression to be glossed over," Hermione poked at his ribs, "Tell me what held you up."
"We weren't hooking up in the bushes if that's what you're thinking," Kurt said dismissively, he pulled Hermione in close because he didn't want the world to hear this, "have you ever seen the man that stands on the edge of Main Street?"
"Can't say I have," Hermione gave it a moment more's thought before confirming it with a shake of her head, "Why?"
"Well, I don't think he's all there," Kurt pointed to his head, "Like Professor Trelawney isn't all there but he was barefoot and freezing so I gave him my shoes and coat, he thanked me with a few phony prophecies."
Hermione raised a curious brow, "you walked back in your socks?"
"Of course not," Kurt smiled devilishly, "Cedric carried me."
"And what did Professor McGonagall think of that," Hermione matched his facial expression.
"She was more concerned about my state of dress but I set the record straight," gave a small smile, "if anyone understood why I'd done it would be her."
"I might not know why but I understand," Hermione assured him, they slipped into a comfortable silence for a moment as they sat on the deserted grand staircase. People started leaving dinner in drips and drabs at first but soon started flowing more quickly as they sat leaning on each other, when Ron and Harry had emerged Hermione had gotten to her feet, "see you in the library tomorrow during breakfast and at breakfast too, depending on which happens first."
"Bye love," Kurt had gone the other way, climbing down the stairs and following the corridor toward the Slytherin dungeon. Kurt knew that he was in relatively good shape but he hadn't played hockey like that in almost three years and he was sure that he would feel it in the morning, mostly in his arms, but he wouldn't take it back because whilst he was on that field he had felt like he had back when he just young boy from Islington.
"Did you have fun in the abomination of a club with your boyfriend Potty?" Draco sneered at him from one of the black leather couches; the group of third year girls gave a shrill unison laugh, like seagulls on deserted beachfront.
The vultures began to circle, Millicent offered the next insult, "Or is it Weasel you cling to?"
Kurt shut them out and go to his dorm for some rest but Vincent Crabbe was in his way, if one knew Crabbe's great size then one knew that when he blocked your way there was no space left to get around him, "I heard it was both."
The large boy had moved in close to speak, Kurt had been treated to a combo smell of tonight's lunch and dinner, "ever hear of a mint?"
The boy growled but didn't speak, Kurt went through these motions frequently enough; the third years would circle and try to take a bite at him like a pack of hungry coyotes, he had to bare his teeth and remind them that he could bite.
"When will you get it through your skull that you don't belong here?" Daphne narrowed her gaze, she had decided to bring the blood status issue early in the conversation, "your kind don't belong at Hogwarts, let alone in Slytherin."
"Probably when you realise that you don't have boobs and stop fooling yourself with that empty bra," Kurt had an air of indifference that added to the bite of his words, "but I guess we're both hard to learn."
"Mudblood," Millicent sneered at him, "that's what you are and you need to learn your place."
Kurt was silent; the pejorative term didn't mean anything to him but the intention infuriated him but he did not rise, at least not yet. They all laughed, some harder than others but Draco took his silence as open season, "Waiting for Goyle to come to your defence?"
"No," Kurt spoke sharply, he was going to cut off the snakes head and it wasn't going to grow another, "I, unlike you, don't need to have my battles fought for me. I'm the motherfucking main attraction and I don't hide behind my father's cheap extensions like you do but if I were you I'd find myself a champion who isn't so easily scared off. So why don't you nurse your little scrape and shut up."
The common room was silent, "Are you quite done Mr Hummel?"
Kurt turned to see professor Snape, "No, I'm sure there were still a few good insults left but I'll resign to my quarters."
"Not tonight," Professor Snape clapped his hands and it reverberated through the dungeon calling all students, "it seems that the castle has been compromised, Sirius Black has been here and the headmaster believes that it is in all of you best interest to camp out in the great hall whilst the castle is searched."
"What was he doing here Hummel?" Pansy jibbed, Kurt was glad to hear from her as he lived in fear that he had gone too far with their last public stand-off.
"Black attempted to enter the Gryffindor Common Rooms," Professor Snape answered the question regardless of the fact that it had been directed at Kurt, "It appears that when the Fat Lady refused him entrance, he slashed her portrait."
Kurt raised his hand and Professor Snape gestured for him to continue, "Wait, I don't understand something, he tried to get into one of the house common rooms but failed and you think it's wise to remove all the students from their common rooms and put us in a general area why?" For the first time, nobody in the common room protested what Kurt was saying, "I also hate to be insensitive but doesn't this sound like a Gryffindor problem? Why do we have to sleep on the ground? I think even they'd be safer in their dormitories."
"Mr Hummel," The man moved so close that his greasy hair hung inches from Kurt's face, "I suggest you direct all those questions to Professor Dumbledore when you see him but till then I, just like you, serve at the pleasure of the headmaster."
"Yes sir," Kurt nodded rigorously.
"I suggest everyone get what they'll need for the night so that I may escort you to the great hall," Professor Snape swept a gaze over the crowd and the students dispersed with great speed, "you too Mr Hummel."
Kurt had sped off to his room; he had filled Bomballerina's bowl even though she wasn't in the room just in case she came back here because she hadn't gotten the memo, he changed into his pyjamas and grabbed his book bag before leaving her note which in retrospect served no purpose because she couldn't read. Professor Snape had given the prefect strict instructions and urged them to be vigilant, Peeves appeared beside Kurt with a toothy grin.
"What is it Peeves?" Kurt asked as the Poltergeist floated beside him silently.
"Your father was here," Peeves chuckled, "Strange that you didn't tell him you weren't Gryffindor, did you think he'd be disappointed you were just like the rest of his family?"
"I don't know what you mean," Kurt shrugged, "but I am surprised you can read."
"Don't insult me," Peeves spat at him, "I'm a restless spirit, not illiterate."
"I just mean that…" Kurt considered sugar coating it but realised Peeves wouldn't offer him the same courtesy, "no, I genuinely didn't think anyone as simple minded as you would have the brain power necessary for reading."
Peeves gave Kurt an angry look but Kurt simply tapped his finger on the Slytherin crest, a reminder of his supposed relation to The Blood Baron, "I'm never gossiping with you ever again."
"Bye Peeves," Kurt waved with condescend with the thin man's word ringing in his head, 'Beware the dark' because what was darker than black? There was only onthing louder right now, that was how much Kurt hated Halloween.