A/n: I know you all hate me and think I've abandoned you but here I am. University is keeping me busy and kicking my butt. I have a little free time now, let's hope I use it productively.

Kurt flourished his ebony wand with a start, "You remember the four spells we're practicing today?"

"I remember," the other boy nodded his head as he spoke.

Kurt's nerves shook his body as he bowed to the other boy, he was risking a lot by testing his homemade wand in an active duel. The wand had worked in a controlled environment but the circumstances surrounding a duel were vastly different, it was Kurt's intention to forge a wand that might act as a stand in for his current wand should the need arise.

Kurt didn't trust his wand, its origins now known to him. Harpo the Foul was as brilliant as he was Evil, it made Kurt uncomfortable to think that something crafted by someone of that nature had chosen him. Kurt did not believe that the practice of dark arts made one a dark wizard- he practiced the dark arts regularly with no ill intention. Harpo the Foul had earned his reputation through sheer brutality; he didn't do it for political reasons like Grindewald or Lord Voldemort had, he did it because his heart was dark.

Kurt had also meant to forge his own wand since he finished reading Fat's book on the matter; he was probably using his insecurities as an excuse to add another project to his already full load. When Charlie had sent him the petrified dragon heartstring, he had taken it as a sign to follow that dream- ignoring that he now owed Charlie one.

As an amateur crafter of wands, it took him a few tries to get to a point where the wand didn't explode in his hands but through trial and error, he had produced a kneazle whisker wand that was flaccid at best. Kurt knew kneazle whiskers to be an inferior wand material, and supposed that half-kneazle would not serve better, but he had wanted to start small. He had moved on from Crookshanks to Bomballerina, the result was better but the wand tended to veer more to the left.

Kurt had consulted his manual for wand forging, as he'd come to think of it, and learned that he'd been forging right-handed wands and was over compensating for the off-centre casting; in Hermione's hands the wand had veered a little less to the left but she had judged it as flimsy and poor quality. Kurt had dedicated more time to kneazle whisker wands till he felt that he had perfected the art.

Harry could scarce tell the difference between the kneazle whisker and his phoenix tail feather wand aside from a persistent cramp in his right arm, much like the one Kurt had after pretending to be Harry during the third challenge of the Triwizard Tournament. Kurt had thought it was because of Pettigrew slicing open his forearm but had since realised that it was Harry's wand, rejecting him as its master.

"Are you ready?" Kurt quirked a challenging brow, letting a little sultriness enter his tone.

"I don't want to hurt you," the boy spoke in a too cautious tone.

"Gregory," Kurt shook his head, "I'm a world champion dualist." Kurt omitted to mention that he had faced the Dark Lord and lived to tell the tale with little more than Harry's skill set, "I think I'll be fine."

"But I'm-" the boy's voice caught in his throat.

"You're what?" Kurt quirked a curious brow, "you're smarter? more powerful? I doubt that." Kurt pursed his lips, "You were going to tell me that you're a pureblood."

"I'm trying to be more tolerant," the boy screwed up his face in discomfort, "I mean accepting, tolerant means there's something to overlook or whatever."

"Aculeus," Kurt slashed his wand with a flash of purple light, "Try harder"

"I wasn't ready for that," the large boy complained as the curse stung him.

"We've completed the formalities of a duel," Kurt spoke as he effortlessly blocked the boy's respondent hex, "the dual has officially begun."

"This isn't a fair fight, you know."

"How so?" Kurt smirked.

"I'm obviously going to win because my wand isn't homemade," the boy flashed a smirk that Kurt couldn't help mirroring.

"Then prove it," Kurt saw his opportunity and prepared himself for the finish, "because I seem to be having little trouble deflecting and avoiding your spells."

"If I defeat you, can I get a kiss?" the boy blushed slightly, "like a real kiss."

Kurt scoffed, "I generally don't trade in intimacy but sure." Gregory grinned and Kurt shrugged, "Stupify."

Gregory was knocked back across the room and Kurt was the clear victor. The boy stumbled to his feet and towered over Kurt, "Did I just get hustled?"

"I didn't have anything to gain from beating you," Kurt pointed out, "So I'd say no."

Kurt strode across the room and started furiously noting the wand's behaviour during their practice session, packing his belongings when he was done.

"Where are you off to?" The large hulking boy tried to casually lean up against the wall beside Kurt, flexing his biceps."

"The forbidden forest," Kurt smiled politely, "I have some work to do in there."

The boy nodded, crossing his arms and flexing his pectoral and deltoids as he did so, "the old brush off, playing hard to get."

"I don't play at anything," Kurt smirked, swinging his Fendi over his shoulder, "I am hard to get."

"You're telling me," Gregory made a point of flexing his biceps as he picked up his bag.

"Please stop flexing," Kurt rolled his eyes, "We get it, you have inhumanly great muscles."

"Feels good to be appreciated," the boy wagged his brow suggestively, "Want to make out? I'll let you have a feel."

Kurt had to stop himself from reaching out, "I told you, I have to go into the forbidden forest."

"Yes," the hulking boy nodded dejectedly, then a light came on in his mind, "If I come with you, can we make out then?"

"There's a smart boy," Kurt smirked, "but no promises."

"I'm totally going to feel Kurt Hummel's butt."

"I beg your pardon?" Kurt stopped mid corridor to quirk a chastising brow at the boy.

"Nothing," he shook his head, "just thinking out loud."

Kurt carried on his way out of the castle with a nonchalant shrug, "pity, I could have sworn I heard you objectifying my body."

The boy's jaw went slack and he bumped into Kurt, who had come to a dead stop at the tree-line near Hagrid's hut. Kurt took deep steadying breaths as the larger boy gaped at him in astonishment, "Stop staring."

"Sorry," the boy mumbled but didn't turn away or stop staring.

"I can't do it if you're watching," Kurt blushed at his sloppy wording.

The boy turned away from him, "Happy?"

"Yes," Kurt shut his eyes, his voice was lower than a whisper when he spoke, "You are a world champion dualist, you're top of your year, you are strong. There is nothing to fear in there, all things are possible through academia." Kurt nodded to himself, barely believing his own words, he turned back to Gregory, who was still facing the other way, "come along then."

"You were not bluffing," Gregory looked around the dense thicket of trees as he walked and talked- making Kurt feel bad for once implying that he was incapable of multitasking. The larger boy slipped in beside Kurt, entering his personal space, "you really were coming to the forbidden forest."

"I'm not known for my bluffing," Kurt shook his head.

"This is true," Gregory nodded, "I'm not known for being very talkative but here we are," the boy shrugged. He swatted a spider web out of Kurt's path, "Before…"

The ellipses was audible but the larger boy waited for Kurt to prompt him to continue, "Yes."

"What was that?" The boy tilted his head, "because it sounded like you were hyping yourself up, are you afraid?"

"There are many things in this forest that can kill you," Kurt explained, "being afraid is the smart reaction."

"But you're amazing, nothing can touch you," the boy held a branch aside so that Kurt wouldn't have to duck, "besides, I wouldn't let anything hurt you; not if I could help it." Kurt could hear how loaded the statement was, "Regardless of what…"

This time the ellipses was not a prompt for Kurt's permission, it was implicit to whatever might or might not be between them; Gregory was promising to do what he could to make sure that Kurt made it through whatever was coming. Kurt smiled shyly, it was in moments like these and when he discussed a Charms' test with Tracey Davis that he was reminded why he changed his approach to the Slytherins, "I know Gregory, and it means a lot to me."

They walked a little further and Kurt held up a hand to halt their steps, he had found what he was looking for, "Two things; firstly, the reciprocal; second, no matter how much what I'm about to do startles you, remain absolutely silent and still."

Gregory nodded silently and stood at attention, like a soldier; Kurt noted that he had the look, with his curls gone and his hair buzzed short, broad facial features and his stocky build. Kurt's eyes traced the stern features for a moment; heavy brow, blunted jaw, a large straight nose; a face held together by deep brown eyes and plump, pink lips that saved the boy from being ugly. Kurt suspected that the boy might have been handsome if he were softer, if his features were moulded with happiness in them.

Kurt flourished his wand and with his voice so soft, it was barely audible to his own ears, "petrificus totalus."

The large achromantula's body tensed as if bindings had been wrapped around it's body. Kurt gestured for Gregory to remain silent as he moved closer to the motionless creature; he produced a glass vial and moved toward the large spider's pincers, milking them for venom and trying his hardest not to squeal like a child.

Once that was done he moved to stand beside the spider, "this might hurt some now and there might be slight discomfort for a few days." Kurt ripped the achromantula's leg off, second from the back on the right. Gregory gasped, earning himself a reproachful glare from Kurt, "if not, consult your doctor."

Kurt turned on his heels and gestured for Gregory to remain silent until they were back at the tree line; the taller boy gaped at Kurt, who had the spider's large leg slung over his shoulder, "I don't think I've ever seen anything nearly that cool but won't that spider die without it's leg?"

"It'll grow back," Kurt smirked, "that achromantula will be back to eating unicorns whole in less than a week."

"What do you need its leg for," Gregory quirked a curious brow, "I know the venom is like really rare and expensive but the leg?"

"I'm having a roast later," Kurt smirked as Gregory's face contorted in disgust, "I kid, it's for one of my many project's."

Gregory nodded to himself for a moment, "that was the hottest thing ever, no contest."

"Don't say that," Kurt shook his head, stepping into the larger boy's personal space, "you haven't seen half of what I can do."

"What can you do?" the boy tripped over his words.

Kurt placed his hands on the taller boy's shoulders and pulled him down as he reached up on his tippy-toes to whisper in his ear, "an innumerable number of things, I'm amazing."

Kurt directed the taller boy's head such that their lips met, he hooked his leg around Gregory's own to brace himself; the boy too surprised to hold Kurt in place but not failing to passionately kiss him back.

Then Gregory's hand instinctually grasped for Kurt's rear and pulled Kurt's lithe form tighter against his stocky, muscled one, the tips of Kurt's toes suspended above the grass as it danced in the late autumn breeze. In that moment as their bodies were grinding up against each other there was nothing but them in each other's arms, Kurt ran his hands over the stubble that covered the other boy's head as he kissed him deeply.

It was not like kissing Cedric; Kurt had loved Cedric, and Cedric Kurt. This wasn't love, this was worship. The way Gregory's large hands moved over Kurt's body, the hunger of his kisses, the pained moans; the boy was having his moment with his divine.

~0~

"I'm an awful person," Kurt groaned as he dropped into the seat beside Hermione.

"You're going to have to be more specific," Hermione didn't look up from her book, too enthralled in the contents and tasked with eating as she read.

"Cute," Kurt pursed his lips, "What is the number one rule I taught you?"

"Well," Hermione seemed to give the idea some thought, then shook her head, "everything is life and death to you; either a rule is the truth of life or it means absolutely nothing." She lifted a forkful of scrambled eggs to her mouth, missing and spilling on her jumper, "so I say again, be more specific."

"Why did I tell you not to date Anthony?"

Hermione furrowed her brow, "If memory serves you made me date Anthony, you were perhaps the only reason I noticed him." Hermione turned to face him with her arms crossed, "Come to think of it, were we just pawns so you and Terry could go on a date?"

"Not on my end," Kurt shook his head, "I can't speak for Terry."

"I'm watching you Hummel," she pointed her index and middle finger from her eyes to his as she glared at him.

"That doesn't frighten me," Kurt shook his head.

"I saw it in an action movie my dad made me watch," she shrugged, "it was worth the try."

"Don't ever do it again." Kurt shuddered, "Where was I?"

"Right," she nodded, "you were misremembering your own advice."

"I was not misremembering," Kurt shook his head as he pontificated, "you were mishearing me."

Hermione quirked a curious brow, "How so?"

"I wasn't talking about the asshole Anthony, who isn't in the top of his year or a prefect," Kurt shook his head, "I'm talking about Anthony with the biceps."

"Oh," Hermione nodded her head in understanding, "I see."

"So," Kurt pursed his lips expectantly, "what did I say?"

"Don't engage the ones who show interest unless you're ready to deal with the interest," Hermione recited the rule verbatim. Suddenly her eyes grew wide and her jaw hung open, "What have you done?"

"Promise you won't shout?"

"When have I been known to shout?" Hermione grinned innocently but Kurt knew her too well, "Other than at Harry, Neville, Luna and the Weasleys."

"A lot more frequently than you'd like to think," Kurt scoffed.

"Just tell me," Hermione snapped.

"I engaged with my desire of suitors," Kurt spoke softly.

Hermione gasped, "You didn't."

"I did," Kurt twiddled his thumbs, "It's not my fault."

"If your actions aren't your responsibility," Hermione spoke slowly like a disappointed parent, "then whose are they?"

"That doesn't matter," Kurt crossed his arms like a child throwing a tantrum, "all you need to know is that this person's actions drove me to act in manner that I normally wouldn't."

"Give me a breakdown of what you've done," Hermione let out a defeated sigh; shutting her book and pushing away her breakfast, "I'll see if we can fix it."

"I made out with Gregory Goyle," Kurt hung his head, "and it was amazing, he worshipped my body and held me in those arms, and I let it happen…" Kurt shook his head, "I made it happen, and it was everything I never knew I wanted."

"That explain why he looks like he's eating rainbows, I didn't think he was capable of actual joy but there he is with a shit eating grin curtesy of you." Hermione nodded, trying to remain neutral in her expression but failing to assure Kurt she wasn't disappointed to the nth degree, "Tell him you're not ready for a relationship, you're just testing the waters."

"There's more," Kurt straightened his back to face Hermione's scrutiny, "and you need to listen to reason."

"You didn't blow him, did you?"

"That's not where I'm going with this," Kurt shook his head.

"We were at him worshipping your body," Hermione shrugged, "excuse me for making the logical leaps and bounds."

"Just listen for a moment." Kurt took a deep steadying breath and worried about how often he found himself needing to do so these days. When he spoke, his voice was filled with confidence, "I have a date with Noah Puckerman, during next weekends Hogsmead visit. I asked him if he wanted to see me and he said wild horses couldn't keep him away."

"That's okay," Hermione's voice was higher.

"I confronted a naked Terry Boot in the prefects' shower," Kurt smirked, growing impressed with his own bravado, "asked him if he was interested in me or if he was just wasting both of our time."

"And?" the urgency was evident in Hermione's voice.

"He's uncircumcised," Kurt shrugged.

"Not that," Hermione blushed as if she was inexperienced, "what was his answer?"

"He said he'd think about it," Kurt shrugged dismissively, "I just came from there."

"So you're telling me that you are currently in the process of destroying your life?" Hermione took a deep steadying breath, then she held out her hand, "I'm intervening, give it to me."

"Give what to you?" Kurt quirked a curious brow.

"The letters to your other suitors," Hermione demanded.

"Hermione, I'm not here so you can help me," Kurt Shook his head, "stop me, or save me from myself; I know what I'm doing."

"I know you're in control of the situation," Hermione agreed, "but give me the remaining letters anyway."

"Then it looks like I'm playing favourites," Kurt pouted.

"The rest of these… of these faceless wannabes don't stand a chance," Hermione shook her head, "ever hear of a summer fling?"

"You're going to hurt their feelings," Kurt handed over the stack of personalised stationary.

Hermione tapped the stack with her wand and the letters burned, "now give me Hipster Weasley's letter."

"He is not in my desire of suitors," Kurt furrowed his brow.

"I know," Hermione smirked as she dug through the pockets of his robes, she held up a single envelope, "this is not suitor stationary, I just don't want you going anywhere near the owlery." She carried on pilfering his pockets, "Which is why I'm also taking your letters to Druella and Jadis."

"Did you guys ever notice that Kurt's younger siblings' names are oddly similar to those of his grandmothers?" Luna spoke, startling them with her sudden appearance.

"How so?" Hermione quirked a curious brow.

"Harley Drew, Druella. Velma Jade, Jadis" she placed emphasis on the 'Drew', doing the same with the 'Jade'.

"I never really noticed," Kurt shrugged, "but then again, it was Finn who named Velma so there's nothing suspicious there. Probably just a coincidence."

"Because our lives are just chucked full of those," Hermione rolled her eyes, Kurt suspected it was at his naiveite and dismissal of the matter.

Kurt was focusing his attention on Voldemort; figuring out how the Dark Lord was still alive and why he seemed to defy death. That key to his defeat, almost as important to Kurt as insuring that the innocent were able to defend themselves in the uncertain times that would soon be upon them.

Junior students weren't able to be members of Dumbledore's army, they didn't have the freedom that seniors enjoyed, and Kurt could only empart knowledge through Denis; using the second year to parlay information through grass routes that Professor Umbridge was ambivalent to. He was stricter with junior student, giving out more detentions; making them copy out and practice defensive spells during his detentions with the help of Fred and George, who were a consistent presence in his and Hermione's detentions. He wanted to be sure that as many of the students as possible were exposed to what he deemed to be the Defence Against the Dark Arts tool kit.

Kurt- unlike his friends- wasn't preoccupied by the present, he had cast his eye into the future and was trying to figure out how the past might help him change their destiny. Kurt had begun to sever the link between Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort when he had taken the other boy's place during the third task of the Triwizard Tournament, Voldemort had Kurt's blood coursing through his veins instead of Harry's. Whatever reason the Dark Lord had for his obsession with Harry, Kurt was willing to bet that his intervention had woven him into the relationship.

He needed to know why Lord Voldemort had gone to Grodrick's Hollow find the Potter's that night, the Chinese Wall between him and Professor Dumbledore was still in place which meant that he would have to come by that knowledge some other way; that knowledge may be pertinent to understanding how to defeat the Dark Lord. The next thing on his list would be discovering why the killing curse didn't kill Harry, Kurt suspected that this was related to why Harry's scar had bit him when he tried to put antiseptic on it.

Kurt could only ready himself and those around him as best he could for what later ahead. They had to make it through this before it was time for his muggle-born siblings to come into their magic, this war couldn't affect them the way it had him.

"Kurt," Luna furrowed her brow in confusion as she took off her lion hat that she wore in support of Gryffindor. The way she was gazing at him meant that his worry were visible, "are you alright?"

"Peachy," Kurt smiled broadly, brightening the room and hoping beyond hope that his friends would buy his false demeanour, "just lost in thought."

"What were you thinking so hard about?" Hermione furrowed her brow, "You completely missed me telling Luna about your exploding letter to the Ministry."

"Ah yes," Kurt nodded, "it was meant to shoot out flyers about elvish liberation."

"It made the front page of the prophet," Hermione grinned, "They mention SPEW by name, and expand on how we were banned here at Hogwarts." She shoved the paper in his face, her excitement blinding her, "They haven't gotten to the point where they grasp that the enslavement of sentient beings is wrong, but it is a huge step forward to have our cause on the front page."

"Hermione," Luna gaped at her as if she were barking instead of speaking, "Kurt is a hundred miles away, most of what you're saying is lost on him." She then turned to Kurt, "and as for you, tell us what's eating at you or we'll beat it out of you."

Kurt's shoulders tensed, "I don't think we're doing enough. We're no closer to understanding the relationship between Harry and Lord Voldemort, the DA is still on level one of our teaching pyramid."

"You might not realise this but your work is making waves," Luna smiled broadly, "there isn't a Ravenclaw who doesn't have a copy of your OWL manual, even the first years are trying their hand at understanding it. Madam Pomphry isn't as impressed as Professor Flitwick at their failures."

"Thanks to Fred and George, almost every Junior has had at least one detention," Hermione grinned, "their sale of contraband makes it easy to pass out misdemeanour detentions without ruining their school record."

"But that's not nearly enough for what's coming," Kurt shook his head, his stomach turning at the sight of his breakfast, "we need to convince everyone that he's actually back, we have no idea how we're going to defeat him, and Professor Umbridge's presence makes finding out harder."

"Decreeing that only she could permit students into the controlled areas of the castle was a hard blow, we're locked out of the Hall of Records and the Restricted Section of the Library." Hermione seemed to notice the scrambled egg on her jumper and was now wiping furiously at the greasy stain, "There's only so much we can learn from the resources we have."

"We're doing as much as we can at this point," Luna pointed out, "It's a pity that the Order of the Pheonix isn't keeping us up to date on the goings on." Luna's voice had a tone he'd never heard or imagined in it, anger. She aggressively fluffed the mane on her hat, "it's almost as if they want us to get hurt, like they want Voldemort to get to one of us so they can proudly declare that they told the world so."

"I don't think that the Order would do such a thing," Hermione shook her head, assuring only herself, "I'm sure of it."

"You're sure of it because you believe the best of people," Kurt shook his head, "the Order is probably waiting for Voldemort to attack the school and make a big reveal, at our expense."

"What-"

"That's what happened when Sirius Black was at large," Kurt point out, "Professor Dumbledore didn't take any action, he just watched as things unfolded." Kurt shrugged, pushing away his breakfast, "he also failed to shut down the school during the Chamber of Secrets debacle. It's not too farfetched to believe that a secret society led by a man who enjoys watching things unfold, and is populated with people who are loyal to him -almost to a fault- would choose inaction as a strategy."

Kurt took a sip of his coffee, it was cold at this point but he didn't have the energy to heat it. Hermione moved to speak in defence of the Order of the Phoenix, Kurt shook his head, "I'm going back to bed."

"But today is Ron's first match," Hermione exclaimed in horror.

"Against Slytherin," Kurt flourished his house scarf, "I'll wish him luck or whatever but I still hope your team loses."

"But you've never missed a match before," Hermione probed further, "what do those optics say?"

"That I don't care about Quidditch, I can see Ron playing at the Hufflepuff game! Right now I want to sleep and not be around people." Kurt shrugged dejectedly, "I used to attend those stupid matches to be with Cedric, or to cheer on Cedric and my brother." Kurt let out a defeated sigh, "Cedric is dead."

~0~

Kurt stood in the High Inquisitor's offisor's with his arms crossed in frustration, he had been summoned by Professor Umbridge to stand vigil as she issued punishment to Harry, Fred and George.

The office was vastly different from when Professor's Lupin and Moody had occupied it, they had elected to decorate with a plethora of magical instruments for defending one's self from the Dark Arts. Her motif was more a kin to that of Professor Lockhart's, though her colour of choices was pink in place of Professor Lockhart's lilac. Professor Umbridge was also lacking in Professor Lockhart's vanity, and had replaced his many portraits of himself with a collection of plates with cats on them.

"In my entire teaching career I have never witnessed such vagrant behaviour," Professor Umbridge ejaculated.

"You haven't even been teaching for six months," Kurt furrowed his brow, his frustration at being called out from his peaceful pseudo silence, "give it time, we once had a student using Slytherin's monster to petrify students."

Kurt didn't need to look over at the accused to know that his slight at Ginny Weasley had not been received, it was Professor McGonagall who spoke, "I agree with Mr Hummel, fighting is but a misdemeanour offence. A week's detention should be sufficient to discourage this behaviour from recurrung."

"As you should know Minerva," Professor Umbridge smirked, speaking Professor McGonagall's first name as if it were a slight, "the power to pass down punishment comes down to the High Inquisitor. That's word from Cornilius himself." She turned around the picture of the Minister for Magic on her desk so that the man was looking at them, "And given their prior records, this punishment needs to be pruned."

"If you have the power to punish them and are going to do so with no input from either Professor McGonagall or myself, then why are we here?"

"I will address you in due course, Mr Hummel." Her tone had an edge Kurt had come to recognise, prejudice. She rose from her seat and walked around the desk to stand beside her picture of the Minister for Magic, as if he were actually there, "given your previous infractions, I fear that your punishment needs to be more severe than detention. You, yourself Mr Hummel, have given them an innumerable quantity of detentions this week alone."

"Detentions for uniform infractions aren't considered substantive," Kurt snapped defensively, "they are a mere slap on the wrist."

"Maybe under previous management," Professor Umbridge's smile grew malevolent, "but the Minister and myself are hoping to raise Hogwarts to her former glory."

"What former glory?" Kurt scoffed under his breath, "Rowena herself saw her vision perverted by the time she chose to leave the school."

"What was that Mr Hummel?"

"Nothing Professor," Kurt smiled obsequently, "you were passing down punishment."

"Yes, I believe that the confiscation of your broomsticks in addition to a lifetime ban from intramural Quidditch should serve well."

"The confiscation of private property is only permitted if said property is considered contraband under the school code of conduct," Kurt rolled his eyes, "you can't confiscate their brooms unless you make the possession of brooms against the school rules. That would mean confiscating all broomsticks and, by extension, outlawing quidditch."

"The ban stands," Professor Umbridge glared at Kurt, "You three are banned from playing quidditch for the remainder of your scholastic careers. You're dismissed," she clasped her hands in front of herself, "not you Mr Hummel."

Kurt stood in place as the room cleared, "How can I help you Professor Umbridge?"

"Madam High Inquisitor," she smiled, "please, take a seat."

Kurt made the stride to the guest's chair and made himself comfortable, "How may I help you Madam High Inquisitor?"

"You are the Slytherin House Prefect," Professor Umbridge smiled at him, "is that correct?"

"Indeed it is," Kurt nodded, "that's why I have a prefect's badge."

"Hummel, I'm not familiar with that name," she busied herself with making tea as she spoke, "is it foreign?"

"Indeed, it is," Kurt nodded, "my lineage goes back centuries in Alsace-Lorraine."

"Ah," her smile grew, she was pleased by his response, "And what brings you to Hogwarts?"

"My father came to England to study and he decided to stay when he met my mother."

"What does your father do?" she nodded to herself, "Or is he a society man."

"He's a mechanic," Kurt spoke with a nonchalance that juxtaposed Professor Umbridge's formal line of questioning.

"Mechanic," she narrowed her eyes, "I'm not familiar with the term."

"He fixes cars," Kurt explained, "restores classical cars primarily."

Professor Umbridge was shocked, "For muggles?"

"Primarily, yes," Kurt shrugged, "but I doubt he'd turn away anyone else who needed their car tended to."

"And your mother?" Professor Umbridge looked like she was smelling something she could pin down, as if unsure whether the cheese she had in her hand had a pungent aroma or was simply spoiled. She sipped at her tea before schooling her features, "what of her?"

"She's dead."

"What was her name?" Professor Umbridge tilted her head as if she could endear him to volunteer information.

"Christine Brown."

"Christine Brown? I'm not familiar with the Browns, where are they from."

"Sheffield."

"Sheffield, well that's here in Great Britain."

"Correct."

"Which of the Sacred Twenty-Eight do they descend from?"

"None."

"I beg your pardon."

"My mother's family are muggles."

"Muggles?" she kept her features schooled but the sharpness in her voice made evident her surprise, "Your father married a muggle?"

"My father is a muggle," Kurt narrowed his gaze, "I'm muggle-born."

"But you're in Slytherin."

"I don't see the correlation."

"And you're the house prefect," Professor Umbridge shook her head, "do you mean to tell me that Professor Snape selected you over students of…"

"More distinguished birth?" Kurt completed her statement for her, "Yes, I was more deserving. I'm top of the Slytherin group and my year scholastically, I know the school rule book backwards and forwards, and I almost single-handedly saved the school from the Chamber of Secrets."

"I see," she nodded, "I do however feel like you are unfit for the responsibility, I have noticed that you rarely have meal time duty and you were absent from today's quidditch match."

"I'm going to stop you right there," Kurt held up a silencing finger and turned the picture of Minister Fudge back toward Professor Umbridge, "Firstly, Tracey and I have co-ordinated our duties such that she covers meal times and I do detentions. Secondly, attendance of quidditch matches is not compulsory and I needed to catch up on some sleep, which is my right." Kurt got to his feet and towered over the seated woman, "Finally, the power to appoint prefects lies in the hands of each house's respective Head of House."

"Mister Hummel-"

"You can take the matter up with Professor Snape," Kurt's words were curt, "I'll take my leave."

"Mister Hummel," Professor Umbridge called after him as he sashayed away, "I represent the Minister for Magic. As such, to disrespect me is to disrespect Minister Fudge."

Kurt stopped halfway down the length of the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom and turned to face the woman who was perched atop the landing outside her office, glaring at him, "Worry not, the Minister well aware how little respect I have for him."

With that said, he turned on his heels and made for the exit. He found Harry Potter waiting for him in the hallway, "You weren't at today's match."

"I was catching up on some sleep," Kurt shrugged nonchalantly, beginning to walk toward the Slytherin Dungeon.

"I see," Harry gave a curt nod.

"I feel like you have something you would like to say," Kurt tilted his head expectantly, "please do share with the audience."

"It was Ron's first match as keeper," Harry left the statement hanging.

"I was aware."

Harry stood with his back straighter, "your absence was noted."

"My presence would not have been," Kurt countered.

"Were you aware of 'Weasley is Our King'?"

"Yes," Kurt nodded, "I thought the jest to be congruent with the intramural rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor."

"You're okay with that kind of behaviour?"

"I honestly don't care," Kurt shook his head, "Ron's a big boy, I'm sure he can handle a little teasing." Kurt stopped and turned to face Harry final landing of the stairwell, "it wasn't even well thought out, 'he was born in a rubbish bin'? Pansy could do a lot worse."

Kurt started walking down the hallway, but Harry persistently called after him, "If what you had to do had anything to do with Voldemort then you have to tell me!" Harry grabbed Kurt's elbow but he shrugged the other boy off, "Kurt-"

"I was sleeping," Kurt snapped, "I just wanted to catch up on some sleep because I haven't been able to get a decent night's rest all term. Between my subject load, prepping for OWLs and O-Level exams, my prefect dutie, the DA and SPEW. Figuring out spell that no living person knows about, which was intentionally erased from history, because it might be the key to the defeat of the Dark Lord; all while keeping up the pretence that everything is as it should be."

Kurt took a deep breath, "I haven't exactly had much time to sleep, so excuse me if I decided to use a time when I knew exactly where everyone was and that they were safe to catch up on my sleep."

"I just-"

"You just what Harry?" Kurt snapped, "Are you going to take the opportunity to criticize my mourning? Marrietta Edgecomb didn't hold back in pointing out that my feet run out of ground when Cedric died."

"I just wanted you to know that you mean a lot to Ron," Harry's words were softly spoken and carefully chosen, "I know he might not always know how to show it."

"I know that, and I don't hold that against him," Kurt gave a weak smile, "but sometimes I have to look out for number one, that was what I did today." Kurt's voice was void of any emotion, "because what is the point of fighting Voldemort if I kill myself in the process? I don't stand to gain anything if I die from exhaustion."

"Personal gain," Harry spoke the words with venom that would have stung another, "that's why you're doing this?"

"I know all of the magic that we cover in the DA," Kurt shrugged, "I am only doing this for the people I love, I don't want to have to lose anyone again."

"What about stopping Voldemort?" Harry gaped at him, "don't care about that?"

"I care about all forms of prejudice," Kurt agreed, "but I could just as easily pack up my family and move to the other end of the planet, seek exile in another land."

"And you'd be able to live with that?"

Kurt shrugged, "I'd feel sorry for those I left behind but I would be able to get past it."

"I'll never understand the way you can be so cold sometimes."

"And that is why you're wearing the colours your wearing and I these," Kurt smiled, "that's the main difference between Gryffindor and Slytherin; you guys want to save the world and we just want to make sure that we make it through. You'll run toward the danger with little regard for your own safety while we calculate every move, manipulating the system to our advantage."

"And you're fine with that?"

"In the hands of the right person, that is a trait that does more harm than good."

"The right person?"

"Am I not breaking myself to do in twenty-four hours, what most couldn't master in a week?" Kurt shook his head, "You might not know this because you're too busy brooding to open your eyes to what is going on around you but we're in a sinking ship and I'm trying to make sure that everyone has a life jacket."

"I…" the boy stalled, "Will I see you at dinner?"

"No," Kurt shook his head, "I have consultations with Seventh Year Ravenclaw girls on their NEWT prep."

"You're helping people prepare for NEWTs?"

"You clearly haven't read the study guide," Kurt threw his arms in the air, "why do I even bother?"

Kurt took off in the opposite direction but the boy called out to him, "one last thing."

"What is it?"

"Thank you," Harry gave small smile, "I know that a lot of people have been giving me credit for Dumbledore's Army and nobody actually knows that you're behind everything that makes me look anything near competent." Harry held two thumbs up, "thanks for holding everything down."

"Most of it is good delegating," Kurt smiled, "but it is nice to be appreciated."

"Would now be a bad time to ask if I can borrow your charms homework?"

"Ask your girlfriend."

"She's not as good at charms as you are."

"Goodnight Harry Potter."

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