"Mr Hummel," Professor McGonagall smiled politely as she ushered him into her office, "I was surprised that you would request a meeting this morning, given how hard you campaigned to keep this Hogsmead visit on the calendar."

Kurt spun on the spot, "I have a date, two actually."

"My," Professor McGonagall gave him a cursory glance, "aren't we a busy body."

"Oh Professor McGonagall," Kurt shook his head, "They'll never say my youth was wasted on the young."

"Certainly not," she gestured for him to take a seat, "how can I help you this morning Mr Hummel?"

"I wanted to ask you a few questions."

"A few questions?" Professor McGonagall raised a curious brow, "If they are pertinent to the matter I believe they are, I don't think that would be appropriate for me to discuss that matter with you."

"Appropriate?" Kurt smirked, "I don't understand."

"I cannot discuss two students with another," Professor McGonagall explained, "You wouldn't expect me to break your confidence and divulge information about you to a third party, would you?"

"I'm not asking about Harry Potter's parents," Kurt shook his head.

Professor McGonagall tilted her head in surprise, "Professor Dumbledore says you've been poking around the matter."

"Not in their capacity as your students and wards," Kurt explained, "I'm asking about two prominent members of the resistance to the Dark Lord's first rise to power, but that's not what brings me here this morning."

"Has anyone ever told you how unsettling it is to hear you call him the 'Dark Lord'?"

"All the time," Kurt nodded, "Ron says it makes his skin crawl, I don't get what the big deal is." He shrugged, reclining in his seat, "You people get your feathers ruffled when I call him by his name, you get touched when I call him the Dark Lord. There seems to be no winning with you."

"You people?"

"Those members of the population with a more evolved understanding of the wizarding world during the Dark Lord's last reign," Kurt waved his hand dismissively, "those of you who are supposed to be setting an example for the younger crowd on how they should be processing recent developments."

"Fair," Professor McGonagall admitted.

"Given that I've primarily observed the behaviour of former Gryffindor students, I'd expect a little more courage," Kurt pursed his lips, a smirk twisting his face mischievously, "isn't that supposed to be your thing."

"It is our thing," Professor McGonagall smirked, "Which is why we outnumber every other house in the resistance."

"Touché," Kurt smiled, "Yet you still cower at the sound of a name, Lord Voldemort."

"He Who Shall Not Be Named is so named with good reason," Professor McGonagall assured him.

"I'm not saying there isn't good reason," Kurt shrugged, "but as Hermione Granger says, 'fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself'."

"Ms Granger is quite something."

"Hermione Granger is brilliant but she is more foolhardy than wise," He straightened his back and looked Professor McGonagall dead in the eye as he focused on the matter at hand, "You have to help me make sense of this." Kurt took a deep breath, "I'm here to try to discern history from folk-tale."

"And you don't think Professor Binns would be a better fit for this line of questioning?"

"Professor Binns doesn't entertain questions from outside the realm of textbook knowledge," Kurt chuckled, "and this is so far outside that sphere that it is nearing the edge of sanity."

"Sanity?" Professor McGonagall's attention was piqued, "I don't understand."

"I know that you, like Hermione and I, are sceptical about the art of divination," Kurt pursed his lips, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth nervously, "and I divined this knowledge."

"I'm more sceptical of Professor Trelawney than the art of divination," Professor McGonagall chuckled, "but go on."

"Oh right," Kurt nodded, not finishing his thought.

"So, what was your question?"

"I'm looking for a historical dichotomy," Kurt explained, "Something really old that contrasts two figures of light, the sun and the moon."

"I don't understand your question," Professor McGonagall tilted her head.

"Are you familiar with Plato's Symposium?" Professor McGonagall shook her head, "Well, it was this epic dinner party and everybody there had to get up and tell a story or give a speech that imparts knowledge or wisdom on those present."

"I see," Professor McGonagall nodded.

"One of the stories aims to explain human sexuality," Kurt explained, "and it does so by creating an alternate origin for the human race where we are described as being two people glued up back to back."

"That doesn't sound like it would work at all."

"Just listen, so it creates a contrast between the Children of the Sun and Earth who are homogenous, same gender combinations," Kurt spoke quickly, he had a lot of information to get through in a short space of time, "and the Children of the Moon are a heterogenous, male-female combinations."

"Then what happens?" Professor McGonagall leaned forward, intrigue evident on her face.

"The Gods grow afraid of their strength and defiance, believing these four legged creatures to be too powerful due to their ability to maintain periphery vision while they spoke and read at the same time" Kurt waved the matter off nonchalantly, "and split them into individual bipedal beings. Love stems from the desire to become one once more, that part doesn't matter." Kurt leaned forward, "The important part is the contrast between the sun and the moon, and divine intervention; it's a recurring theme."

"Recurring theme?"

"The same thing happens in The Chronicles of Narnia, which includes a parallel to the Hogwarts Founders," Kurt's words were coming out on top of each other, "the tale of Lycan and Langa creates a similar parallel, and includes an all powerful intervention." Kurt shook his head, "these stories were told a thousand years apart and the same picture emerges from three different positions; the muggle and wizarding worlds, and where they intersect."

Kurt shook his head, "I just don't see why the same themes would come up over and over again."

"Why is this so important to you?"

"I'm curious."

"You're curious?"

"I get very curious about a number of things," Kurt explained, "I have a hungry mind." Kurt crossed his arms, "I used to ask Professor Dumbledore but he hasn't been very willing entertain this year, at least not me."

"I see," Professor McGonagall nodded, "but unfortunately I can't help you."

"Clive Lewis, who wrote one of the stories," Kurt went on explaining, "was a squib not much older than you are, his peers were in fourth year when you started at Hogwarts."

"I'm sorry but I can't help you," Professor McGonagall pursed her lips and shook her head.

"Deplorable word," Kurt shook his head, "that doesn't mean anything to you?"

"Can't say it does."

Kurt nodded his head solemnly, "Thank you for your time Professor McGonagall."

"I wish there was more I could tell you."

"It's fine," Kurt smiled, "I must be off."

Kurt walked briskly down the hall, he had some time before his next engagement but not enough to make it to Hogsmead on foot. Kurt made his way down the stairs toward the main entrance hall, but turned just short of the final landing into a wall covered in shadow and disappeared. Kurt released a breath he'd been holding when he emerged from the Shadow of Madam Puddifoot's Tea shop, when Kurt exited the alleyway into the light he saw Harry and Lisa canoodling in the window.

He made his way through the small town toward the Three Broomsticks Inn, the snow melting before it could ruin the leather on his new riding boots. Kurt entered the bar and took the seat opposite a waiting Noah Puckerman, "Good morning." he smiled politely, "How are we this morning?"

"We," the young man's voice was smoky when he spoke, he looked suggestively down at his lap for a moment and smirked suggestively, "are much happier now that you're here."

"Don't be crude," Kurt could feel the blush creeping up his neck, peaking above his turtleneck, but his tone almost matched Noah's. Kurt found himself being flirtier than he had anticipated, "although, I must admit that your American accent does suit the premise well."

Noah bit gently at his lip, "You want to talk about sexy accents? You do realise that a British accent is an automatic plus one or two, it's like the golden rule."

"The Sterling Rule love," Kurt pursed his lips, "We didn't part-take in the gold standard."

"Now I think you're just showing off," the young man leaned forward, giving Kurt bedroom eyes, "it's almost as if you're trying to impress me."

"Oh Noah," Kurt smirked, "you'll know when I'm trying to impress you, I can be quite… impressive."

"You mean to tell me that there's more to you than that pretty face, great body and the greatest mind of the century?" Puck quirked a suggestive brow.

"It feels almost as if you tacked that last bit about my mind as an afterthought," Kurt shook his head in disapproval, preening internally at his own humility, "To satiate the beast. Maybe you just want me for my physically attractiveness because you know so little about my mind, too little to covet it."

"You managed to force your way into my mind without saying a single word while dressed in sensible office wear," Noah nodded as he waved over a waitress, "I worked with you, I know your mind."

"Do you? Because my mind may be complex but I've met the greatest mind of the century, and it is impressive," Kurt played coy, "I'm fantastic but what if I've created an image I cannot live up to."

"I have no doubt that I'm only going to be more and more impressed with you," Puck smirked, "You're loquacious and I'm willing to overlook that you don't like my sense of humour."

"Good morning and welcome to the Three Broomsticks," the young witch spoke monotonously, "how can I help you?"

"I'll have a butterbeer with ginger and lemon slices on the side," Kurt smiled politely, "no foam."

"I'll have a bourbon," Noah eyed the menu, "and I'll have the special. Nothing to eat?"

"I'm having lunch with my gran," Kurt shook his head, wondering if he had called Druella his gran because it was less complicated than the alternative or if he truly identified her as such.

"Double booked," Noah winced, "Brutal."

"I'd forgotten that I had committed myself to the lunch when I asked you to brunch," Kurt tried to assuage the man of his fears that he wasn't interested, he didn't want to discourage any of his remaining suitors considering Hermione had dismissed a significant portion of his desire of suitors. He needed the positive energy of being admired in these dark and uncertain times, "And my gran does not reschedule, she's self-important that way."

"Tends to command the respect of people, expect them to live up to her very high expectations and bend to her will?" Noah smirked, "I know the type."

"I've said nothing of bending," Kurt pursed his lips, "yet."

"Don't be a tease," The other man growled, fire burning in his brown eyes, "I'm not one to take disappointment well." He gestured for Kurt to lean forward, leaned in closer to Kurt and whispered, "and neither is he."

"Oh Noah," Kurt wagged a disciplinary finger, "I have always preferred it when a man rules his member, not the other way around."

Kurt leaned back in his seat, the young man's passion was just as it had been in the letters he'd sent Kurt. His letters had ranged from admiration of Kurt's mind, to desire for Kurt's form and had even been filled with explicit descriptions of what he would do to Kurt if he was given the chance- the latter had made Hermione blush a new shade of scarlet. Kurt wasn't sure how he felt about this kind of wanting; he was flattered by the attention, as he always was in such a case, but there was something so distinctly un-British about the way he wore his feelings on sleeve.

Kurt'd had suitors from other cultures before but none of them had been sufficiently familiar as to come on this strongly, let alone as brazenly. Terry, who had publicly declared that he was a 'Hummelsexual' and refused to be discounted as a suitor, had always used innuendo and proper language when speaking of anything sexual. Cedric's speech had always failed him on the subject, they had let their bodies speak for them; an exploratory relationship, they mapped the boundaries and the lay of the land as they went. Gregory took his cues from Kurt but Noah was different, he was a man; he knew what he wanted, how he wanted it and he was honest about his desires.

Kurt wasn't sure how he felt about somebody who knew the ways of the world so much better than he did, was he ready to take a passive, receiving position? Kurt engaged in every aspect of his life, he took some charge whenever possible; Kurt was even in charge of the education of others at this point, Kurt had been learning on his own terms for a while now but he now held the education of others in his hands. Maybe Puck was too worldly for Kurt?

He wanted to shake his head, if he could bring the Minister for Magic to his knees then he could handle one brash American. Kurt would use his more refined manner as a point of conflict to gain the upper hand, he would bend Noah Puckerman to his will by being the prissy Brit he was. This desire of suitors only worked when Kurt was pulling the strings, not the other way around.

"I prefer my men more refined than that."

"Well," Noah bowed, "I shall strive to be an officer and a gentleman, Mr Hummel."

"Master Hummel," Kurt corrected, "of the Order of the White Lotus."

"I stand corrected," Noah gaped at him, his lip seemed to curl back into place between his teeth whenever idle. Kurt considered the invitation they were extending but chose to remain reclined, the only way to break Noah was to hold out. Waiting would be both their test, was there anything left between them in the absence of sexual desire?

~0~

Le Château d'Hiver de la Famille Noire was a great fortress that sat on a mountainside, not unlike Hogwarts. Kurt had appeared from a shadow behind an elm and made his way up the freshly shovelled cobblestone walkway, knocking firmly on the large door made of dark wood.

The winter castle was different from the summer house where Kurt had last met Druella; it had an older look to it and was lit artificially where the summer house had been lit by large bay windows. The walls had a cold grey stone facing, where the summer house had bright yellow walls; despite the cold bare stone and the chilly mountain climate, this house was warmer thanks to a large rectangular hearth that bisected the great room.

Kurt was escorted to his seat by Azimuth, the house elf was courteous and it made Kurt smile to see how different things could begin to be. Druella's house elf was dressed in a modest French maid's outfit- as she'd been the last time Kurt saw her- in place of the rag worn by most house elves. Kurt suspected that it was an aesthetic choice on Druella's part but he had observed the dignity bestowed on the house elf by respectable clothing, how it humanised her in her masters eyes and how it demanded that her pure blood supremacist respect her.

"My darling Rigel," Jadis smiled up at him, "How have you been?"

"I've been well," Kurt smiled politely at the blond-haired woman, "and it's Kurt, we discussed this."

"Oh yes," she nodded, "Kurt."

He did not take offence at how she rolled the name off her tongue like a bitter taste, Druella merely smiled politely, "I hear you've taken my advice and you're dating Gregory Goyle."

"I am not dating Gregory Goyle," Kurt corrected, "we're just enjoying each other's company, is all."

"We had a term for people who enjoy the company of men during my day at Hogwarts," Druella smirked, "promiscuous."

"I thought we just called them sluts," Jadis quirked a curious brow.

"We used both interchangeably," Druella nodded, "I just didn't want to call our Grandson harlot."

"Then he shouldn't enjoy the company of men," Jadis shook her head, "Look at what it did to Andromeda."

"That was one boy," Druella and Kurt chorused.

"And it didn't do anything to her," Kurt explained, "It's just different from your understanding of the world."

"Let's not do this again," Druella rolled her eyes, "it gives me a head ache to listen to you speak of social revolution." She gave a small smirk, "I tire of you liberals and your agenda."

"Oppression is pain," Kurt pursed his lips, "and pain demands to be felt."

"You sound like the satire of a hippie," Jadis chortled, sipping her wine.

They were served an aspic that depicted the endless and fruitless chase between predator and prey; the diorama was perverted by the fact that both prey and predator were anchovies, aiming to cannibalise each other.

"This is… interesting," Kurt nodded to himself as he eyed the dish before him, "it's quite the art piece."

"It's one of Azimuth's speciality dishes," Druella gave a small smile.

Jadis echoed the gesture, her smile broader and warmer, "it's always a delight to have."

"Bon apatite," Druella pursed her lips and watched as he brought a morsel of the gelatinous art piece to his mouth. Kurt moaned as the salty jelly melted on his tongue with a burst of anchovies as a delicate note at the end of the forkful, "And?"

"Exquisite," Kurt smiled, "do give Azimuth my compliments, she is truly gifted."

"Three kids were raised on her cooking," Druella smirked, "I expect nothing short of perfection from her, as I did from my children."

Kurt was tempted to ask her how that had worked out for her but chose to hold his tongue, he was a guest and knew better than to antagonise his host. He enjoyed his meal in relative silence, sipping his wine liberally before speaking, "Tell me about her, Bellatrix. What was she like?"

"Bella was determined," Druella spoke of her daughter as if she had died, instead of being incarcerated, "she poured herself wholly into aspects of her life that she deemed worthy of her attention." The woman was silent, as if trying to remember an old friend, "she always strived to do what she deemed to be proper, to the best of her ability."

"I do think he wants to know her as a person," Jadis smirked, "not as a proper automaton."

"What do you know of automatons?"

"I'm a worldly person," Jadis smirked, "I got an outstanding on my Muggle Studies' OWL and NEWTs."

"That's really impressive," Kurt grinned.

"Hardly," Druella scoffed, "Muggle Studies isn't at all challenging, I found it to be rather boring."

"That's why you didn't do as well as I did," Jadis smirked.

"That," Druella scoffed, "the fact that I had lost the ability to care, and I was head girl."

"I was head girl," Jadis repeated, mimicking Druella's deadpan tone, "Shut up, we all know Dippet only picked you because he couldn't say my name."

"I can't believe you're still bitter about one hard J," Druella shook her head, "it's been forty-seven years, let it go."

"Dzha-dis," the blonde woman sounded out her name, "not 'Jade is', nothing near Judas in sound!"

Druella rolled her eyes, "you're really going to hold on to this."

"I think he was biased against me because I was in Slytherin," Jadis grumbled.

Kurt quirked a brow and turned to Druella, "You weren't in Slytherin? I thought all Blacks were in Slytherin."

"I wasn't born a Black," Druella shook her head, "I was Druella Rosier when I was at Hogwarts, Ravenclaw house prefect too."

"Ravenclaw," Kurt nodded to himself, "I was almost in Ravenclaw."

"We're a very selective house," Druella gave a self-satisfied smirk.

"Druella Rosier," Jadis mused, "I remember the day I met that uptight bitch." She lowered her voice and spoke without modulation, "'my brother plays for the Slytherin quidditch team, he's the best seeker of the decade.' It was the first year of the decade."

"I was eleven," Druella shook her head, "I thought more of Evan then, rest his soul."

"Evan Rosier wasn't that old when he died," Kurt furrowed his brow.

"That would be Evan's son," Druella corrected, "neither was very bright… or creative given that he couldn't come up with a name."

"Ah, Evan Senior and Evan Junior," Kurt nodded to himself.

"Yes," Druella nodded, shooting a sideways glance at Jadis, "Jadis is acting as if my brother didn't serve some use, he did introduce her to Rodric. He introduced both us to our husbands actually."

"What was Cygnus Black, the third like?" Kurt smirked, "was he a dashing fellow?"

"Oh," Jadis smirked, "he was a biscuit."

"Is that a good thing?"

"It's a thing," Jadis shrugged, eliciting a chuckle from Kurt.

"I will tell you what I told my daughters," Druella gave a cold smile, "looks are not everything; Bellatrix married a man who passionate and adoring, Andromeda's husband- though not befitting somebody of her station- is kind. Narcissa married a handsome and proud man, she was rewarded with Draco."

"Wow," Kurt chuckled, "I think the only person who likes Draco less than you is possibly Ron Weasley."

"It's not that I dislike him," Druella shook her head, "it started out as my standard dislike for children but he's just grown into such an unpleasant human, too much like his father."

Kurt chuckled, "I had to share a room with him for four years, you don't have to convince me."

"You two must be so proud of yourselves," Jadis shook her head reproachfully, "making fun of a sixteen-year-old boy."

"I'm always proud of myself," Kurt nodded, "Which is why I must admit that I have come here today because I shamelessly have an ulterior motive."

"And there I was thinking it was because you missed two old ladies that you only met earlier this year," Druella deadpanned.

"Yes," Kurt nodded, "Your feelings must be so hurt."

"However can we help you?" Jadis's tone was softer and more understanding, "is it money? You are the sole heir to the LeStrange fortune, I suppose it must have been passed down to you when your grandfather died."

"No," Kurt shook his head, "as I've said before, I have no interest in any family money."

"But it has been willed to you by wizarding law," Druella shook her head, "when each of your Grandfathers died, their estates passed to the beneficiaries of their Last Will and Testament. Bellatrix was her father's favourite and received almost everything, but due to her incarceration it passes to her Next of Kin- you."

"The same with Rodric's estate," Jadis agreed, "We're merely custodians until you reach your majority."

"That's fine, you can have it if you want it," Kurt shrugged dismissively, "I'm more interested in family history."

"We already assured you that there was no cancer in the family," Jadis rolled her eyes.

"Yes," Kurt nodded, "I want to know more about Haim Black, I'd actually like to speak to his portrait."

"There's one in the gallery," Druella pointed to a set of large oak doors, just beyond the hearth, "The two of you can have some privacy."

"Not that we'll need it," Kurt shook his head, "just going to ask him about his time at the ministry, it's for a project I'm working on."

Kurt was deliberately vague as he excused himself from the table, it would not be long till Bellatrix and Rudolphus were released from prison and Kurt didn't want them catching a whiff what Kurt was working on.

~0~

Kurt opened the door and let the Weasley's and members of the Order of the Pheonix into his home, "Good morning everyone. Merry Christmas."

They returned the pleasantries as they were helped to check in their cloaks by the valets his father had hired when their Christmas dinner had increased in size exponentially.

"I hope you didn't have trouble finding the place," Kurt smiled smugly at his own joke.

"We had some difficulty in the middle of the street," Charlie spoke as he leaned up on the archway into the formal Dinning Room.

Kurt quirked a brow, trying not to smile and choosing to purse his lips instead. He whispered his response, "Fuck you Hipster Weasley."

"Forgive me," he smirked, "I'm just fatigued from the journey."

Kurt flashed him a fake smile, "Charming." Kurt turned to the crowd, realising that it was made up almost entirely of Weasleys. Remus Lupin was the only member of the Order present, "will Sirius not be joining us?"

"No," Molly shook her head, "he accepted an invitation from Andromeda."

"How unfortunate," Kurt's smile fell, "Pa was looking forward to breaking his legs and taking him back Alsace-Lorraine."

"You are so cancelled," Ginny shook her head as they were directed downstairs.

Kurt smirked, "The only thing cancelled this year is the Gryffindor quidditch team."

"Burn," Finn shouted from downstairs.

"You children," Mrs Weasley smirked, "Which way to the kitchen?"

"I'll say this again Mrs Weasley," Kurt smiled politely, "the event is catered, you don't have to worry about that."

"Ah yes," she nodded, "catered."

"Kurt," Ron nodded his head in the direction of the formal lounge, "a word."

"Of course," Kurt nodded, holding up a finger to signal that he needed a moment, "please help yourselves to some appetizers, Finn will direct you to the bar."

Kurt held his arm out, gesturing for Ron to lead the way into the lounge, he shut the doors behind them and waited for the boy to speak. Ron was quiet, fiddling with his hand which meant he was trying to structure his thoughts- this was serious. Kurt took a step closer to the boy and pursed his lips impatiently.

"Ronald," he spoke in a clipped tone, "what is it?"

"Give me a minute," the boy's voice shook.

"I have champagne going flat," Kurt crossed his arms over his chest expectantly, "what is it? Is it Sirius?"

"Yes, it's serious."

Kurt rolled his eyes, "is he being careless? Are we all going to be arrested."

"Not Sirius," Ron rolled his eyes, "serious."

"Then why did you say yes when I asked if it was Sirius?"

"I thought you were saying serious," Ron explained.

"Ah," Kurt nodded, "then what is it?"

"Are you in love with him?" Ron asked him suddenly.

Kurt was taken aback by the question, "Who? Sirius?"

"No," Ron waved his hands frantically, "Forget about Sirius."

"Oh, thank heavens," Kurt sighed in relief, "I thought you'd gone soft in the head."

"Goyle, I mean," Ron looked uncomfortable with the subject matter but kept speaking, "You're snogging him on the regular, do you love him?"

"I've snogged him like twice," Kurt giggled as he regained his composure, "I doubt that qualifies for the regular."

"Because he's in love with you," Ron said suddenly, "it's the way he looks at you. He looks at you the way Cedric used to, the way-" Ron went silent for a moment, "when he's not looking at you like he wants to eat you, though I'm sure I remember Cedric having that look at least once, it's love."

"One would hope Cedric would have that look," Kurt joked.

Ron shook his head, "I just thought you should know that much, no guy deserves to think he's got more of a chance than he does. Don't lead him on, not even a pureblood supremacist deserves that."

"Ron," Kurt furrowed his brow, "What are you saying?"

"I just want to know if you're in love with Goyle."

The line of questioning shocked Kurt, he didn't know where this was coming from and he did not answer for a moment, "No."

There was lingering silence between them, broken by Kurt's own voice, "I'm not in love with any of them." The silence returned and it was Kurt who broke it once more, "I wasn't in love with Cedric in the beginning either, it came with time."

"You weren't?" Ron furrowed his brow so tightly that it was obvious that Kurt was destroying his understanding of how things work, "but you two were like-"

"I really liked him, don't get me wrong," Kurt explained, cutting the boy off before he put his foot into his mouth, "but I wasn't in love with him from the get go, it took me while to believe I was in love with him. I was just drawn to him and really liked the person I found."

"But you don't have that with any of the others?"

"I'm not saying it's not there," Kurt shrugged, "I've only ever pursued, I've never really been pursued so I can't tell you what it's like to be the flame because I'm only now living that."

"I see," Ron nodded.

"Tell him not to discount himself," Kurt smiled and Ron paled, "I don't know who you're asking for but tell them not to give up because somebody else is ahead in the race." He gave his friend's shoulder a friendly shove, "I would never have gotten Cedric if I'd just given up when he started dating Cho Chang."

Ron chuckled, but then his face went serious, "I didn't get it before, how you guys all felt this thing and were out there with people." He took a deep breath, "then, when I came home it hit me! I wasn't jealous of Krum or Cedric, it was what they felt; I tried to pretend like it was there but just isn't."

Kurt's eyes went wide as he realised what was happening, what Ron was saying, what he was doing- he was coming out. Ron was telling him something deeply personal, something that he'd secretly known about himself for so long but hadn't been able to put into words; he didn't feel the same sexual and romantic attractions as his friends. Ron was telling him that he hadn't built a relationship not because he was unable, as he always led them to believe, but because he didn't want to; he didn't want to be with anyone. Ron was asexual and aromantic, a rare but not unheard of combination.

"Too many people spend their lives thinking that their amorous connections are the only ones out there that validate our existence," Kurt smiled, "it's not true. My existence is affirmed by all of you just as much as it was by Cedric." He placed a hand on Ron's shoulder, "it's perfectly fine if you only want to build platonic relationships, maybe someday there will be someone who'll make you change your mind and maybe there won't. Both are valid existences."

Kurt pulled the gangly boy into a hug, "You know I love you and so does Jesus."

"Who's Jesus?" Ron furrowed his brow and blushed.

Kurt giggled, "It doesn't matter, Merry Christmas dipshit." Kurt slung his arm over the boy's shoulder and led him down the stairs to the family Room, "Lavender Brown is going to be so very disappointed."

"Now I feel bad," Ron crossed his arms.

"Don't," Kurt reassured him, "she's a bitch."

Ron guffawed but stopped suddenly, "wait, how did you know I wasn't telling you that I love you when I was asking about Goyle?"

"You would never make something about you about someone else," Kurt shook his head, "You would have told me not to lead him on, you would have probably told me I could do better- you're protecting someone and I find it quite admirable."

"Admirable? Ronald?" Hermione quirked a curious brow, "now I've heard it all."

"I heard it all a long time ago," Oma smiled, raising her glass of amber liquid in salute of herself, "it's been a great one."

"No toasting those who've left us behind in the house," his father shouted.

"And spill perfectly good bourbon?" Oma gaped, "you must have me confused with your father." Pa smiled in his seat, the image of a 1920's gentleman.

"What are you two grinning about?" Harry scowled at them.

"Ron's rooting for someone," Kurt smiled, picking up his flute of Champagne and bringing it to his lips, "he's picked his horse and is betting it all on them."

"Who?" Hermione quirked a curious brow.

"I'm not telling," Ron smirked, "but my guess is that they'll win."

"Aren't we arrogant," Hermione tilted her head in surprise, "because my money is on the man who stood on a table in the great hall and declared himself a Hummelsexual."

"Really?" Ron furrowed his brow, "Terry is probably in last place, he spent too long as an undecided." He took a flute from Hermione and cautiously sipped at it, smiling at the taste, "Goyle is miles ahead of him. Rugby body and he has Kurt's name tattooed on his chest."

"Who told you about that?" Kurt and Hermione chorused in surprise.

"Tracey," he said as if it was obvious, "she was helping me with my transfiguration homework and she was explaining the practical uses of some of the stuff we learn."

"What does that have to do with Goyle's 'Kurt' tattoo?" Harry asked, "that seems to be a little… unrelated."

"Tattoos are a type of transmutation," Ron, Hermione and Kurt chorused with an eyeroll.

"All magical print is a type transfiguration," Kurt smiled politely, "that's part of how they get it to move."

"Even Ron's smarter than me now?" Harry gaped.

"Heavens no," Hermione and Kurt chorused.

"Ron hasn't been to a follow up session with Tracey," Kurt shook his head, "she's the fourth smartest person in our year, less than two percent behind Hermione Granger."

"All six of us are within a five percent margin of each other," Hermione smirked, "including your girlfriend and that isn't doing you any favours."

"Kurt has made you a hurtful person," Harry shook his head.

Kurt gasped, "Me? How am I responsible for Hermione being a hurtful person?"

"Damned if I know," Harry shrugged, "I just felt like blaming you."

Kurt tilted his head in confusion, "Is this because I've put all my hopes and dreams into you because you're The Boy Who Lived?"

"Something like that," Harry chuckled.

"Who wants to join me outside for a quick smoke?"

"You can count me in," Hermione smirked, "it is Christmas, consider this your gift."

"Worst Gift Ever."