A/n: I know, it's been forever... I'm a terrible person.
Kurt and Hermione sat on the stairs leading up to the front door of Number Thirteen Grimmauld Place, shoulder to shoulder and blowing smoke in each other's faces. Kurt took a polite sip of his champagne and shook his head with a giggle, "We are the personification of all that is wrong with the world."
"There are death eaters, racist and sexists in the world," Hermione furrowed her brow in confusion, "How are we what is wrong with the world?"
"We should be spending this time with our families but here we are with the person we spend most of our lives with," Kurt shook his head, "Oma came all the way from Alsace-Lorreine to be with me and here I am, smoking and drinking with Hermione Granger."
"It could be worse," Hermione shrugged, "we could be Hipster Weasley."
"Harsh," Kurt chuckled, "I'm ambivalent to the young man but I wouldn't take it that far."
"He's definitely worse than us," Hermione assured him.
"I'm not going to defend Hipster Weasley to you," Kurt shook his head, "I shouldn't have to defend him at all. He's your friend's brother."
"You're the one who was having a deep meaningful conversation with Ronald, he's as much your friend as he is mine."
"I meant Ginny," Kurt rolled his eyes, "but I'm still not defending him."
"I'm right here," Charlie's velvety voice interjected.
The pair exchanged a look, "why are you here?"
"Because he's worse than us," Hermione rolled her eyes.
"I'm legally old enough to smoke," Charlie smirked, "I'm not the one braking the law."
"Hermione is old enough to smoke," Kurt countered, "and it's not like it's going to kill us any less because we've been around the sun a few more times." Kurt took a deep pull of his cigarette, "and I'm unwittingly defending you and I don't even know why you're worse than we are."
"Because he's out here with us, whom he barely knows, instead of with his mother whom he almost never sees," Hermione glared at Charles, "you didn't come all the way back from Bulgaria to spend Christmas with the two of us."
"He works in Romania," Kurt corrected.
"Same difference."
"Someone has Viktor on the brain," Kurt giggled.
"Imagine how distracting it must be to have four boyfriends," Hermione smirked.
"Who has four boyfriends?" Hermione pointed a finger in Kurt's direction as a response to Charles's question. The young man gaped at him, "you have four boyfriends?"
"I have no boyfriends," Kurt shook his head, "Hermione is exaggerating."
"How is the jump from zero to four an exaggeration?" He knitted his brow, "That sounds more like a lie."
"I have multiple suitors vying for my affections," Kurt shrugged, "her exaggeration is how friendly I am with them."
"Right," Hermione rolled her eyes, "because you're keeping it chaste."
"If I wasn't," Kurt glared at her, "I would have told you about it."
"I know," Hermione smirked, "I'm just messing with Hipster Weasley's mind."
"Do you two give everyone nicknames?"
"It was Kurt who christened you," Hermione pointed out.
Kurt shrugged, "I called my roommates 'Dumb, Dumber and Obnoxious'. It was a step up from how Hermione distinguished you before."
"I called him something before Hipster Weasley?"
"In third year," Kurt tried to be discreet but Hermione failed to pick up on his wavelength. Kurt turned to Charles, "she used to call you 'Biceps'."
"Oh my gosh," Hermione giggled, "I remember that."
"How is 'Hipster' a step up from 'Biceps'?" the young man shook his head, Kurt noticed the slight flex of his arms.
"Why do other men do that?" Kurt furrowed his brow, "Gregory does the exact same thing, flexing his biceps when they're mentioned."
"Is Gregory one of your boyfriends?"
"We've discussed this already," Kurt glared, "Gregory is not my boyfriend, I have no boyfriend."
"Say more babes," Hermione scoffed.
"I just want Hipster Weasley to tell me why he flexes when we mention his biceps," and as Kurt mentioned them, Charles flexed his arms, "see, he just did it again."
"The same reason you arch your back when Terry mentions your bottom," Hermione answered before Charles could form an argument, "the way you smile whenever anyone mentions how pretty your smile is, or how you always adjust your glasses when someone notices them."
"Oh Hermione," Kurt smirked, "are you coming on to me?"
"You've known how I've felt about you for years," Hermione chuckled, "I only wish you'd declare yourself a Granger-sexual and be done with it."
"Say more babes," Kurt smirked.
"I fucking hate you."
"Great," Kurt smiled broadly, "let's go destroy Harry Potter's world view."
"Why are we always trying to eat happiness?"
"Because we can," Kurt shrugged.
"Before we go," Hermione turned to Charlie and wrinkled her nose, "You smell like an old boot."
"Wow," Charlie chuckled, "thank you for telling me that."
"No offence," she shrugged dismissively.
"I don't know why you would think I would be offended by that."
"Okay girls," Kurt patted them each on the head condescendingly, "play nice."
"I've been nothing but nice," Charlie protested, "And in return I've been called the worst, been talked about as if I wasn't here, had my mind messed with, been condescended to and been told I smell like old shoes."
"An old boot," Hermione corrected, "Like worn leather."
"That's not helping your case," Kurt shook his head.
"My case?" Hermione gaped at him.
"I've done nothing wrong," Kurt smirked, "I'm practically perfect in every way."
"Whatever," Hermione shook her head, "let's go."
"Are you just going to leave me here?" Charles called after them, "Maybe I want to eat happiness too."
"Then find some evil overlords your own age and go eat happiness with them," Kurt stuck out his tongue.
"You're really obsessed with age," Charles called as Kurt shut the door behind himself, "it's just a number."
"That's what all the old people say," Kurt pursed his lips. He and Hermione made their way downstairs to the bar and charged their champagne flutes, "You boys should come upstairs with us, we need to have a lady chat."
"We're not ladies," Harry countered.
"Sluts are welcome too," Kurt rolled his eyes.
"How am I a slut?" Harry furrowed his brow, "I have a steady girlfriend, not four suitors."
"Just follow me and be quiet," Kurt shook his head, "and I will punch you in the throat."
"Don't you mean or?"
"I said what I said."
"Am I going to get punched in the throat for following you?" Harry furrowed his brow, "Because I don't want to be punched in the throat."
"Then I'd suggest being quiet," Hermione rolled her eyes as they climbed toward the second landing.
"This is a lot of house," Ron marvelled before catching himself, "I don't have to be quiet, do I?"
"No," Kurt smiled, "you're good for now."
"This place is like number twelve but cleaner, a lot cleaner," Ron looked around each landing as they climbed to the second floor, "Like you bleached it."
"We didn't think dark walls worked in a space with so little natural lighting," Kurt smiled as he led them toward his bedroom door, "you are about to enter hallowed ground, my father's been in here like twice since I turned seven and this is his house; one of those times was because I shouted at a toddler. One other non-Finn person has been up here."
Hermione raised a challenging brow, "and it wasn't Cedric Diggory."
"I can hear Kurt now," Ron rolled his eyes, "asking if to want to do this now, in front of the children.""
"Ron gets me."
"How have I never been in here?" Hermione glared at him, changing the subject.
"We're just going to ignore the fact that Kurt shouted at a toddler?" Harry gaped.
Kurt shrugged, "it's a personal sanctum, I like to keep it to myself."
"It's so white," Ron rubbed his eyes to adjust to the bright room, "And so much nicer than my room."
"I have better taste," Kurt smirked, "I don't consider a poster of the Chudley Cannons to be interior decorating."
"But giant portraits of yourself are?"
Kurt's smile matched that of the portrait, "Of course."
"I'm ready to be punched in the throat," Harry tilted his head backward and winced in anticipation, "lady chat away."
"Okay," Kurt smiled broadly, "I wanted to wait till we were all together before I delivered my update, you guys always manage to lose something in communication."
"By 'you guys' he means you Harry," Ron shook his head bashfully, "You have difficulty listening and communicating."
"I hear perfectly well," Harry countered.
"You just proved Ron and I's point," Kurt rolled his eyes, "neither of us mentioned your ability to hear, we're critiquing your listening skills; two different things."
"Yeah," Harry rolled his right back, "we all embellish when we pass on knowledge and tell it to our liking, I got one handjob in the library and you make it seem like it's Lisa and I's spot."
"Handjob Harry has a point," Hermione smirked.
"We're getting side tracked and people will be asking after us soon," Kurt squared his shoulders, "Harry."
"Yes," the Boy Who Lived's voice shook.
"I have discovered through my unwavering excellence what Sirius and the Order believe Lord Voldermort is after," a chilling silence swept Kurt's bedroom, "it's a prophecy, they store records of them in the Hall of Prophecies which is part of the Department of Mysteries; where Mr Weasley was attacked."
"A prophecy?"
"Yes," Kurt nodded, "it's the reason he came to your parents' home that Halloween." Kurt took a deep steadying breath, "he believed you to be party to the prophecy, that's why he came and that's why your parents were in hiding."
"It was me?" Harry looked like he would burst into tears at any moment.
"That's how he chose to read it," Kurt nodded, "and in doing so he made it about you."
Ron knitted his brow, "If he knows the prophecy, why does he want the record?"
"I suspect that he wants to study it, learn how to defeat Harry from it," Kurt shrugged, "Since his return the Dark Lord has become fixated with Harry, as if your existence challenges his authority or power- it almost seems as if he cares more about you than he does about pureblood supremacy."
"Do you know what the prophecy says?" Hermione tried to sound hopeful.
Kurt shook his head and Harry sucked in a long breath, "So I'm the Chosen One?"
"No, not ever again!" Kurt snapped, "This isn't a matter of being chosen, we have worked too hard to give you a choice for you to resign yourself to being the Chosen One." Kurt grabbed Harry's hands, "Remember that part of the reason I took your place during the final task was to give you a choice in whether you would be everyone's hero."
"Is it ever a choice?" Harry scoffed.
Hermione laid her hands over their joined hands, "Your moral fibre may leave only one choice as valid for you, but the choice allows you to hold equal stake as every other member of the resistance."
"Being the chosen one lays the fate of every witch, wizard and muggle on your shoulders," Kurt explained, "it makes every decision you make immensely important and that's not fair."
"But why Harry?" Ron shook his head.
"I think it has to do with his birthday," Kurt shrugged, "because Professor Dumbledore shut down the conversation when I mentioned what happened to Neville's parents as being linked to what happened to your parents; you were both born at the end of July."
"They also both have parents who were part of the Order of the Phoenix," Hermione pointed out.
"Well there goes my theory for including myself," Kurt shrugged.
"How is May the same thing as July?" Ron furrowed his brow.
"July is the seventh month in the Gregorian calendar," Kurt rolled his eyes as if it were the most obvious thing, "my birthday fell during Rajab, the seventh month of the Hijri calendar."
"You really want to feel special and included," Hermione scoffed.
"No," Ron shook his head, "Kurt is onto something."
Hermione gaped at the ginger haired boy, "is this the day humanity ceases to exist? Will the sun fall and be feasted on by the fowls?"
"I'm allowed to agree with Kurt," Ron crossed his arms, "I'm making a choice."
"No," Hermione rolled her eyes, "I mean anyone following Kurt's train of thought and me failing." She shook her head, "not when he's making sense. This hurts me more than you can imagine, please explain."
Ron squared his shoulders with pride, "Kurt is increasing the people whom the prophecy could apply to, that way there are more people who can defeat him."
"I won't have anyone taking my place," Harry shook his head.
"It hasn't been your place for a while," Kurt shook his head with a jovial giggle, "This prophecy has been contaminated for quite some time." Kurt vibrated with excitement, "if it is pertinent to the ability vanquish the Dark Lord in direct combat-"
"You did it in the Chamber of Secrets," Harry gasped.
"You two are speeding," Ron interjected, "Before Kurt gets too excited and winds up dead, or Harry falls into a depressive mess because Kurt is in danger, we need to hear the prophecy."
"This is fair," Kurt nodded.
"You really lived up to your word," Harry sulked, "You ate happiness on Christmas day."
"That was the good news," Kurt chuckled, "but depending on how you look at things, it's all good news."
"How is knowing that my parents died for me good news?"
"Because that's what you do for the people you love," Kurt gave a sad smile, "that's what a parent does for a child. Take it from me, my mother died so I could live and there is nothing you can do to repay that sacrifice but live your life as you wish."
"Deep," Hermione shook her head.
Kurt smiled, "If my hunch is correct, then your parents went into hiding to keep you from that prophecy. Don't bind yourself to it, don't limit your choices."
Harry rubbed the back of his neck nervously, "hit me with the 'other good news'."
"I'm a step closer to finding the deplorable word," Kurt smiled proudly, "I'm chronicling it in my journal, my account of The Second Wizarding War."
"So that other people can find what you say Rowena Ravenclaw described as a horror?" Ron gaped.
"So that future generations can understand magic and this period better," Hermione explained, rolling her eyes on his behalf, "I'm keeping records in my journal as well."
"Am I the only one who isn't keeping a diary?" Ron glared at them.
"In my defence, I've been keeping a diary for as long as I've been able to write," Kurt held his hands up defensively.
"You're getting distracted," Harry interjected, "Kurt just said he's closer to finding a spell that kills every living thing on the planet but the caster."
"You did your reading," Kurt smiled broadly, "but if you recall I said it kills whomever hears it, and I know better than CS Lewis."
"Really," Harry quirked an unimpressed brow, "you want to claim to know better than the man who discovered the actual spell?"
Kurt smirked, "Check my flow; I have one thing that Clive Lewis didn't, an understanding of magic." Kurt smirked smugly, "Clive was explaining a time when a large number of people and most of the vegetation died in an area, and then it got very cold."
"Oh my shit!"
"That could easily be confused for everything dying as the result of a single person's actions by somebody who doesn't know the period of time over which this mass dying happened," Kurt explained, "I, on the other hand, know more. I have linked the deplorable word with the creation of dementors, which accounts for the people who died and the cold weather that killed the plants."
"For every time you've said 'Hermione Granger' like it was some kind of badge of honour for knowing me," Hermione shook her head, "I'm going to say it in return, Kurt Elizabeth Motherfucking Hummel!"
"Thank you," Kurt blushed.
"Wait, you want to turn Voldemort into a dementor?" Harry furrowed his brow.
"That's where it gets complicated," Kurt shrugged, "by my understanding, the deplorable word acts in a manner similar to the dementor's kiss but with more power." Kurt crossed his arms and pursed his lips as he allowed what he was saying to permeate, "It moves beyond stealing one's soul and steals your magical essence as well, leaving the remaining body twisted into a what is today known as a dementor. The dementor's kiss leaves the magical essence and body intact, being only a cause of death."
"I don't understand," Ron shook his head.
"You shouldn't," Kurt shook his head, "It's all speculation at this point but based on the rebirthing spell I witnessed we know that Lord Voldermort's body was destroyed the Halloween Harry got his scar, all that remained was his magical essence and his soul-"
"So the deplorable word would destroy all that and leave nothing to allow him to return," Harry gasped.
"Because under normal circumstances, magical force isn't destroyed, it remains as an untapped energy in the universe because it is bound to a single soul," Kurt explained.
"The law of conservation of matter?" Hermione gasped.
"Yes," Kurt nodded, "This spell will theoretically allow us to sever that bond, he won't be able to create doorways back into this world using cursed objects like Tom Riddle's diary."
"The diary was a portal from the other side?" Hermione furrowed her brow.
"Damned if I know," Kurt shrugged.
"He said he was a memory," Harry explained, "stored in the diary."
"Fine," Kurt shook his head, "Whatever it is, is less likely to work when his soul and his magical essence have been separated from each other, and his body."
"Why haven't we looked into Tom Riddle's diary?" Ron furrowed his brow.
"Kurt destroyed it," Harry shrugged.
"Yes," Ron nodded, "He cut it in half with the sword of Gryffindor and sprayed the room."
"Really Ron?"
"Sorry," the boy shrunk for a moment, "but we don't know what it is, we don't know if there is another. Why haven't you gotten curious and gone to the library?"
"I don't care about Tom Riddle's diary," Kurt rolled his eyes, "I can't bring myself to care enough to look into it. Slytherin's monster is dead, the Chamber of Secrets isn't a threat."
"If you say so," Ron shrugged, "if you say it doesn't matter, seems kind of important though."
"We're getting distracted and I'm almost certain Finn is going to be sent up to get us any second because Ron's father just got out of St Mungo's and we're supposed to care," Hermione snapped, "We need to discern whether Kurt's Hunch-theory-understanding hybrid is worth our energy. How did you come to this… inclination?"
"It's a combination of my understanding of physical science, the dark arts and magical theory," Kurt gave a self-satisfied smile, "add in some speculation, my dreams and history, and it all just flows into each other."
"History?" Hermione quirked a curious brow.
"Haim Black, former Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and Deputy Minister for Magic during the term of Minister Victor Parkinson," Kurt fixed an imaginary stray hair, "told me quite a bit about his era and his love affair with Minister for Magic George Waisenhaus."
"Why would he tell you that?" Ron furrowed his brow.
Kurt shrugged, "I have a very inviting face."
"You really do not," Ron shook his head, "you're pretty but like scary pretty."
"Thank you," Kurt smiled, "I put work into it." He preened for a moment before pulling himself toward himself, "it's easy to get a Slytherin to talk about themselves, the key is the ability to direct that conversation- at which I excel."
There was a knock on the door, "And that's all we have time for." Hermione gestured for the boys to leave, "give us a moment."
"You have more to say to me?" Kurt furrowed his brow, "I thought we covered everything before Hipster Weasley's interruption."
"This is new," Hermione leaned in close and spoke in a whisper, "I think your memory has been tampered with."
"Why do you think that?"
"Because finding out more about Tom Riddle's diary used to matter to you," Hermione whispered and looked around the room as if she was paranoid, "after the incidents of the Chamber of Secrets up to the beginning of third year you researched the matter quite extensively, you even had theories."
"I guess I got distracted by boys," Kurt nodded solemnly, then shrugged dismissively, "I know."
"You know?"
Kurt smiled broadly and shook his head, "I've known from when it first happened."
Horror flashed across Hermione's face, "Why haven't you told me?"
"Professor Dumbledore did it," Kurt shook his head, "none of you would have wanted to believed me."
"Don't say that," Hermione shook her head.
Kurt matched the action, "Three years ago, the first meeting of the muggle activities club, would you've been willing to hear it?"
"Probably not," Hermione bowed her head in shame, "I only cared about you and Cedric at the time." Hermione put her head in her hands, "I would've thought you were lying."
"It's more of a reflection on the man than on you," Kurt flashed a sad smile, "I didn't blame you for it."
"I wish you'd told me," Hermione shook her head.
"The only other person who knows about the memory tampering," Kurt grabbed his closest friend's hand, "isn't in my life anymore."
"Touché."
~0~
Le Château d'Hiver de la Famille Noire.
08th March 989AD
03:25PM.
"Rowena," Haim rose to his feet and greeted his friend with a kiss on each cheek, "darling, how are you?"
"I'm well," she looked her friend over and grinned, "You look well."
"I just finished a fat flush," Haim smirked, "I lost ten pounds."
Rowena pinched at his buttocks, "I think I've found it."
"Don't be salty," the man reprimanded her.
"I'm sorry," she blushed as she took her seat, "I couldn't help myself."
"How unlike you," Haim scoffed, "I'm sure your father is turning in his grave."
"My father is still alive," Rowena smirked.
"Will be," Haim rolled his eyes as he gestured for the diminutive house elf to serve their tea, "I'm casting my eye into the future."
"Sure you are," Rowena shot the man a reproachful look.
Haim shook his head, "at the very least he's dead to me."
"Haim," her tone was reproachful, "That is my father."
"It was my turn to tease," he smiled at his friend, "no matter how handsome Rowen Ravenclaw is."
Rowena gasped, supressing a full-on guffaw and swatting playfully at the air between them, "that wink was completely uncalled for, go fornicate with somebody else's father."
"Been there," Haim scoffed, "Done that."
"You're actually quite vile," Rowena shook her head, "and to think I almost made you my husband."
"We could have had fun with that," Haim shook his head at the lost opportunity, "but I guess we just have to live with what we have now."
"And what exactly is that?"
"Shouldn't I be asking you?" Haim quirked a curious brow, "We both know what my life is like."
"Ah yes," Rowena smirked, "Orgies with George and Godric. Is the letter 'G' some kind of fetish for you?"
"That's quite enough from you," Haim wagged a reproachful finger at her, "Just because your friend Godric is light in the loafers, doesn't mean we're acquainted." He sipped his tea slowly, "Us same-sex oriented gentlemen don't all know each other."
"Of course not," Rowena shook her head with false remorse, "I apologise."
"So," The sandy haired man smiled over the brim of his teacup, "how are things?"
"I think I'm in love with him," his friend smiled with doe eyes.
Haim smirked, "I was asking about the school, Rowena."
"Well, considering we were talking about main squeezes," Rowena shrugged, "it was an easy mistake to make."
"We'll get back to that, babes," Haim assured her head, "for now let's talk business."
She giggled and it was like a silver bell, "oh yes, the school's going well. We've put in a significant amount of work and I've designed a castle, not unlike this one, that is currently under construction."
"So you'll be ready to open soon," Haim smirked, "ready to begin hiring staff and taking in students."
"That's where we've come to a clash," Rowena rolled her eyes, "Helga and Godric feel that we should gear the curriculum more to building good character, Salazar and I feel that we should focus more on the academic spheres."
"Is it a school or a parent?" Haim scoffed, "Your focus should be the academic sphere of things. Part of the reason I told George to commission the creation of standardised education was to diminish the bond between magical knowledge and character, not after what happened with Anais Haddad-Schmidt."
"That was my point exactly," Rowena nodded, "I don't want to get too deep into the politics of what was my school without asking you about your working life."
"Things at the ministry are going well," Haim smiled broadly, "Splendidly actually."
"Really?" Rowena eyed her closest friend suspiciously, "because on my birthday you seemed to believe that your career was about to go up in flames."
"I've re-established a new equilibrium," Haim shrugged nonchalantly.
"You just made peace with Victor Parkinson?" Rowena scoffed, "now I've heard it all. That man is more stubborn than a mule, and considering the things he said about you."
"And hung like a mule," Haim chortled, putting an end to that discussion.
"I beg your pardon?"
"My darling Rowena," Haim flashed an impish grin, "you don't get as far as I have in life without knowing how to deal with men."
"I haven't gotten as far as you have," Rowena pointed out, "I've been demoted to a glorified baby sitter, remember?"
"That's because you don't have the same way with people I do," Haim grinned malevolently.
"Haim, no," Rowena shook her head, "Not Victor."
"Yes Victor," Haim nodded.
"Are there any men left who prefer the company of woman?"
"Well," Haim shrugged, "You're the one who's in love, you tell me."
"I shan't risk you and that golden tongue."
"My tongue only became involved after we came to terms," Haim quirked a suggestive brow.
"Haim," Rowena feigned shock, "what have you done?"
"I can only tell you that George isn't running for another term as Minister for Magic," Haim preened in his own glory, "he will endorse Victor as his successor and myself as Deputy Minister."
"And you're already intimately engaged with the boss?"
"Some people might frown at how I got to the top," Haim shrugged and sipped his tea, "History will only remember that I got to the top."
"Proud words from a bottom."
"Rowena," Haim exclaimed, choking on his tea.
Rowena grinned, "I'm only being honest."
"You don't know my story," Haim snapped back indignantly.
"I know your story," Rowena retorted, "isn't that why I was the perfect bride?"
"Oh babes," Haim shook his head, "you over estimate yourself, there is no such thing as a perfect bride for me. You were my preferred bride, given that you might be my only true friend."
"How heart-warming," Rowena rolled her eyes, "but if you stopped sleeping your way to the top you might make more friends."
"What? Work my way to the middle like you did?" Haim scoffed, "And another thing, I didn't sleep my way to the top; any old tit can sleep, I fucked my way to the top."
"Language!" Rowena exclaimed, shocked by how her uptight friend had loosened up, "I don't know what Viktor is doing in the bedroom but it has changed you."
"Not just in the bedroom," Haim smirked, "in the office, the garden room, the carriage… anywhere he can get his hands on me."
"I'm sure his wife is chuffed to hear that," Rowena scorned him.
"I'm surprised at you Rowena," Haim reclined in his seat, "I never took you for a hypocrite."
"Me?" Rowena scoffed, "a hypocrite?"
"Why, yes," Haim pursed his lips, "Considering Salazar is married as well."
"I don't know what you mean," Rowena shook her head.
"Salazar Slytherin," Haim shook his head, "the man who gave you the diadem that sits on your head, the man you think you're in love with." He leaned forward and whispered the last part, "has a wife."
"How do you know I was talking about him?"
"I don't just stick my mouth everywhere," Haim shook his head, "I've also got ears everywhere."
"He has a wife?" Rowena gasped.
"Yes," he nodded solemnly, "Oestara Prewett."
"Why wouldn't he tell me this?"
"Because men are greedy," Haim shook his head, "He wanted to have you both as his own."
"I should have known," Rowena shook her head, "I'm so stupid."
"You just saw the man through Rose Coloured glasses," Haim assured his friend.
"I'm supposed to be wise, intelligent," she began to sob, "yet I let myself be played by a man of moderate intelligence."
"Don't feel bad," Haim tried to be assuring but his friend was seething, "that Salazar is a smoothy, a slippery serpent of a man." Haim took Rowena's hand in both of his, "I hear he's begun looking into the Dark Arts, so he's had us all fooled."
"Yes," Rowena snapped, snatching her hand away, "but none of you are pregnant with his child."
Haim pursed his lips, "Oh dear."
"Yes," Rowena pursed her lips, "oh, dear."
~0~
Hermione, Kurt and Mandy walked arm in arm up the castle staircase toward the Room of Requirement for a post-Christmas meeting, they were catching up on their festive season activities.
"Have you two seen Izzy's septum piercing?" Mandy chuckled.
"Izzy?" Hermione furrowed her brow, "Meek, doesn't talk to anyone Isobel MacDougal?"
"That's not even her real name," Kurt rolled his eye.
"Morag, Whatever!" Hermione rolled her eyes, "We're all talking about the same meek girl, right?"
"Her," Mandy chuckled, "she came back after Christmas and she had a whole new look."
"I don't think I've seen her since she's been back," Hermione shook her head.
"She's beyond recognition," Mandy chuckled, "she looks like a coked-up seventies Rockstar, but in a cool way."
"That doesn't sound possible," Kurt scoffed.
"She looks like drugs, Lenny Kravitz and an attractive homeless person had a baby," Mandy smiled.
"You've been working on your muggle studies," Kurt smiled, "but that sounds like a really cool look but I can't imagine it on little Izzy."
"Believe it," Mandy assured him, "I think she realised her boobs were never coming in and quit wearing bras, and it liberated her."
"What do her boobs have to do with anything?" Hermione crossed her arms over her chest defensively.
"Mandy seems to think that everything comes down to nungu-nungus, just because hers are amazing," Kurt rolled his eyes, "I'm sure her choice to stop wearing a bra was a consequence of whatever catalysed her change in appearance."
"Like what? She became a bra burning feminist?" Mandy smirked, "If there is one thing we know about our darling Lizzy, it's that she doesn't have the depth for a life changing epiphany."
"Harsh," Kurt smirked, "true, but harsh."
"You've barely spoken two words to her in five years," Hermione shook her head, "I doubt you have a leg to stand on in her judgement."
"There is very good reason why I haven't spoken to her," Kurt rolled his eyes as if it were the most obvious thing, "Name one Ravenclaw in the top ten of our year I don't speak to." There was a silent moment, "I just don't have much in common with Ravenclaw students that fall after the NOut."
"The NOut?" Hermione furrowed her brow and looked to Mandy, who simply rolled her eyes, "Am I missing something?"
"NOut," Mandy let out a tired breath, "the first person in a year who will potentially have no Outstanding OWLs."
"In our year it's Hannah Abbot," Kurt clarified, "She's eleventh."
"You two always manage to out snob yourselves," Hermione rolled her eyes.
"I would expect that attitude from a Gryffindor outlier," Mandy rolled her eyes.
"I know," Kurt shook his head at his best friend, "right?"
"Don't bring that snobbishness in my direction," Hermione shook her head, "I have been top of my year consistently."
"Well," Mandy shook her head, "not consistently."
Hermione glared at the dark haired, busty girl, "I beg your pardon?"
"Second year," Mandy explained, "You were third."
"I was petrified," Hermione gasped, "I can't believe you'd hold that against me."
"For all of two days," Mandy scoffed, "Don't make grand sweeping statements if you won't stand by them. It simply isn't sensible."
"You want to talk to me about sense and sensibility?" Hermione scoffed, "this from a girl dating a boy who would rather be with me!"
"Hermione Jean Granger!" Kurt interjected, "we don't say that kind of thing, ever! Don't make me bring up the fact that I am Neville's first choice just to knock you off your high horse." Kurt straightened his robes, "Mandy is obviously in the right in this instance, you haven't been first consistently."
"I wish you'd both leave my boyfriend out of this," Mandy shook her head, "Neville and I will probably have children together some day and I would hate for you to tell them you were almost their mother."
"Children?" Kurt quirked a brow, "Mandy, are you pregnant?"
"No," she rolled her eyes, "I have an IUD."
"Wait," Hermione clutched her chest and grinned broadly, "You have an IUD? as in you're having sex with Neville Longbottom?"
"I didn't say that!"
"But if you weren't, then your response would have been 'we're not having sex'," Kurt explained, "but instead you chose to tell us you used contraceptives."
"Still doesn't prove anything."
"I can't wait to rub this in Harry and Ron's faces," Kurt smirked, clapping his hands jovially, "there is a god after all."
"You do know what this means?" Hermione looked up at him with large, wet eyes.
"That other than you and Viktor's finger-bang escapade, Neville and Mandy are the first of us to have sex?"
"That can't be true," Mandy shook her head, "I heard Cedric deflowered you on the Astronomy tower."
"That is a salacious rumour started by Hermione Granger," Kurt shook his head.
"So, Cedric died a virgin," Mandy's voice broke, "that makes his death so much sadder."
"Don't cry for him Mandy," Hermione's tone was soft and assuring, "cry for Kurt who didn't get his shot."
"I was going to do it that day," Kurt heard himself confess, "then he died. I've never told anyone that, but then again, who do you tell?"
"Dark," Mandy shook her head.
"If it makes you feel any better," Hermione laid a comforting hand on his shoulder, "He told Viktor you were great at oral."
"Of course I'm great at oral," Kurt rolled his eyes, "Oma sent very well detailed instructions."
"She did what?" Hermione gasped.
"Ask Harry Potter."
Hermione gasped louder, "you gave oral to Harry Potter?"
"Heavens no," Kurt's eyebrows shot up, "Why would you say something so awful?"
"That's my friend's boyfriend!" Mandy interjected.
"I stand by what I said," Kurt rolled his eyes, "He read the letter."
"Lisa was so sure he wasn't gay," Mandy smirked, shaking her head.
"He was supposed to be reading the next section," Kurt rolled his eyes, "I may be many things but I am neither Lisa, Ginny or Luna; my interest in Harry Potter is purely platonic."
"That's a lie and we all know it," Mandy shook her head, "You also have an academic curiosity."
"Fair," Kurt shrugged.
"But seeing as you brought my boyfriend into this-"
"Speaking of Neville," Hermione interjected, "He-"
"If this has anything to do with your intimate knowledge of him I will punch you in the throat," Mandy glared at Hermione, "test me."
"No," Hermione shook her head, "I was just saying, thanks mostly to the confidence Kurt gave him, the fact that he's dating you and Tracey's tutoring he's made a meteoric rise in our year's academic ranks, he'll probably cross the NOut and I'll no longer be an outlier."
Kurt and Mandy exchanged a begrudging look, "She's right."
"If she says she's used to being correct I will punch her in the boob," Mandy rolled her eyes.
"I would support this endeavour," Kurt nodded.
"Fine," Hermione mimed zipping her lips.
"As I was saying before I was so very rudely interrupted, and before we get to the Room of Requirement," Mandy stopped them on their final landing, "Why the Desire of Suitors?"
"What?"
"Well," Mandy shrugged, "I watched you and Cedric being adorable, it was disgusting, I was so jealous, that person isn't the kind of person to lead on several gentleman." She furrowed her brow, "I personally hate Terry but…"
"Even he doesn't deserve this?" Kurt shrugged and shook his head, "because Cedric was perfect and none of them really measured up. Cedric died before he could do anything to ruin my perception of him, they all have great qualities but I can see their flaws." Kurt's shoulders slumped and he let out a tired breath, "the fact that they're going along with this farce being one of them, Cedric was driven crazy by the idea of me going on a date with Terry and that was before we even started dating. They feel closer to filling his place as a sum than as individuals."
"That's… a pretty shitty thing to do," Mandy gaped at him, "I'm a colossal bitch and even I know that's wrong."
"I hate to do it but I agree with Mandy," Hermione smiled shyly, "she is a colossal bitch."
"Hey!"
"Kurt isn't stringing anyone along," Hermione took a step forward, "Kurt doesn't have any malicious intent, he's mourning and he's showing his interest in the best way he can."
"Fair," Mandy nodded.
"And he's been transparent with everyone," Hermione defended him vehemently and Kurt couldn't help smiling, "he isn't leading anyone one on."
"Thank you," Kurt smiled sadly, "to both of you."
"Both of us?" Hermione squealed as they started down the corridor once more, "my defence on you is on the same level as Mandy calling you slutty piece of shit?"
"Mandy," Kurt turned to her, "Is it Amanda?"
"Miranda," she corrected.
"Miranda Brocklehurst has a point in her attempt to eat happiness," Kurt nodded to himself, "she was bold enough to say something despite the fact that I could murder her."
"Oh, Neville told me," Mandy nodded, "it's a genetic thing, right?"
"You could say that," Kurt and Hermione giggled in unison.
"Let's get this lesson over with," Hermione nodded toward the door to the Room of Requirement.
They walked into the large room to find it filled with seniors only, Harry Potter was standing in the centre of the room explaining to the group on the intimate details of the day's lesson.
"Kurt," the boy smiled at him.
"There's chopped liver with him as well," Mandy rolled her eyes and moved toward Neville, kissing him deeply as they entangled their limbs with each other.
"I like the taste of chopped liver," Neville grinned, wagging his brow suggestively.
"You're sweet," Mandy smiled at him and Kurt's stomach turned.
"Okay," Kurt snapped his fingers to draw everyone's attention, "I know I'm usually the one who promotes the academic history and intricacies of any spell but that doesn't work for this one."
Kurt put down his purse, "it's literally the most counter intuitive magic I've interacted with, my attempt to master the patronus charm purely through academics was a dismal failure."
"I can attest to that as a witness," Ron chortled.
"Says the boy who can't enchant his shoe laces not to come undone," Kurt scoffed in return.
"Fair," Ron smirked from where he'd been regaling Ming Prewett with tails of the great Prewett-Weasley dynasty, an attempt to get closer to his newly discovered cousin.
"It was when I taught my dear friend Neville Christopher Admetus Longbottom the spell that I realised that it rooted in the emotions that drive it," Kurt smiled broadly, "After a ton of introspection I realised that I'm the best spellcaster in my year because I love learning and I love magic."
"The only thing he loves more is himself," Finn called out from the back of the room.
"You've all met me and it is impossible not to love me more than anything in existence," Kurt chuckled, "So, here's what it comes down to; you have to think of a happy memory, something that makes you so happy that you basically want to die because you'll never be able to relive that moment."
"When you have that memory and you feel like you're about to explode because you're thinking of the first time ever you saw his face," Kurt smiled and produced his wand, "you release that excess joy by waving your wand in a circular motion and saying the incantation."
"Expecto patronum," Kurt waved his wand over his head as if to lasso the sun.
Kurt was enveloped in flames made of white light that formed a vortex before exploding into a set of webbed wings, a long-spiked tail, ridged back of spikes and the origin of the the white flames, a large reptilian head with a crown of spikes. The white dragon flapped his wings and flew around the ceiling, shining brightly as he did so.
"That is fucking amazing," Neville gaped, "I never took you for a dragon."
"Whatever do you mean?"
"I always thought you'd be your own patronus," Neville shrugged.
"Like Professor McGonagall?"
Hermione furrowed her brow, "Professor McGonagall is her own patronus?"
"Her patronus is a cat identical to her animagus form," Kurt said, speaking condescendingly, "did you pay no attention during the ninety-three, ninety-four academic year?"
"Some of us had better things to do," Lisa giggled.
"Why?" Kurt furrowed his brow, "Harry Potter was giving himself handjobs back then."
"Kurt!" Harry squealed, "you want to do this now? In front of the children?"
"You've been waiting forever to say that," Hermione chuckled.
"We're all still here," Pavarti snapped, "we can leave and you can go back to… what I'm assuming is some kind of foreplay."
"Padma Two is correct," Kurt turned back to the group at large with a saccharine smile, "let's do this." He took a step forward and looked everyone in the eye at once, "make the memory strong and make sure it can stand up under scrutiny from your greatest doubts."
His audience gave his words some thoughts, "When you're ready, you know the incantation and you can go at any moment."
Kurt watched as Finn and Padma linked pinkies and stepped forward; they waved their wands, said the incantation and kissed as the light bear and she-bear charged around the room over everyone's heads. A display of their prowess and a public declaration of their love, one that made Kurt want to both hug and kick them."
It didn't take long for a number of light guardians to have filled the room, the more senior students taking less time to find their happy place and convert that into a patronus charm. Not every attempt had been successful at first but Kurt and those who had mastered the charm were making their way around the room, helping everyone produce some kind of patronus- corporeal or not.
"Kurt," Denis called out as he stormed the room of requirement, stopping in his tracks to marvel at the mobile of light guardians.
"Denis," Kurt snapped his fingers to get the boy's attention, "What is it?"
"It's happened," the boy panted.
"Umbridge knows?" Kurt gaped, "no, we still have at least a month."
"Not that 'it'," Denis shook his head, "the Dark Lord has made his first move."
"How do you know this?" Kurt brought his hand up to cover his mouth. Denis handed him the afternoon edition of The Daily Prophet, "Oh no."
"What is it?" Fred asked.
George stepped forward, "what has he done?"
"He's broken into Azkaban," Kurt's voice shook.
Lisa shook her head in confusion, "why would anyone break into a prison."
"To break out his most loyal followers," Harry shook his head, hugging a not very concerned Lisa.
Neville's knees fell out from under him, forcing Mandy to steady him, "he went in for Bellatrix LeStrange."
Lisa looked around the room, reading the tone of confusion, chose to speak for their audience, "Who is Bellatrix LeStrange?"
"A Death Eater," Hermione explained.
"One of the Dark Lord's most loyal followers," Harry elaborated.
Neville got back to his feet, "she tortured my parents into insanity."
"And she's my mother."
I hope you like it. Reviews are love.
I've started posting some of the aids I use on a tumblr page... it's got my fan casts for my OCs and characters omitted from the film series, spread sheets and other weirdness to come.
a-strange-set-of-circumstances .tumblr. com
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