A/n: I'm so glad that you're still enjoying my work, and it makes me really happy to see new people are still finding this story. I will continue to update whenever I am able.

Denis' small hand took Kurt's larger one in his short fingers, and the younger boy smiled up at him, "it'll be okay."

"Indeed it will," Kurt nodded, puffing out his chest and facing the shocked faces of his peers with falsified bravery, "if anything, this should serve to prove to many who were in doubt that what we've known for so long, is true." Kurt gave a peppy clap of his hands, "we who've known have been preparing for this moment; this is when things are going to get scary and it is comforting to know that we can stand confident in the knowledge that we've prepared to the best of our ability, that we can defend not only ourselves but those we hold most dear."

There was a resounding applause and the boys whistled their agreement. Mandy placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled, "Kurt is most correct, and we owe our preparedness to Harry, Hermione and Kurt especially. I do believe that regardless how far we've come, we've got so far to go."

"Mandy's right about how much we owe to Kurt," Ron piped up, "my mum always told me to be brave but she was wrong." The boy paused and scratched the back of his neck nervously, "It's one thing when a brave man stands up and fights but it's something special when a fearful man stands up to defend what is right. Kurt proves that."

"Oh, wow," Kurt smiled, clapping his hands, "I'm humbled by the kind words. Would anyone else like to shower me with praise?"

There was a round of laughter, cut short by Hermione raising a silencing hand, "Given the news, I think it would be best if we adjourned to practice in smaller groups. Least we draw attention to our mass and protracted absence." There was a begrudging but affirmative moan, "could I have a word with leadership plus?"

Kurt nodded as he stood with Mandy's head resting on his shoulder and Neville's arms around the both of them as they waited to hear what Hermione had to say to them. Mandy lifted her head to whisper in Kurt's ear, "Do you think this is to do with your little announcement?"

"I think she's going to scold you two for starting the rumour that she's dating Christopher Bembridge," Luna shrugged as she leaned up against Kurt arm, "she was not happy to hear that rumour and violently told me they had not declared relationship status."

"The little that they've done was enough to make Anthony Rickett move on to Tracey," Kurt shrugged, hoping to shake off his hangers on.

"Anthony and Tracey?" Mandy scoffed, "How does she feel about being the second choice after?"

"She's indifferent," Kurt grinned, "she's using him as a springboard to Theodore Knott."

Mandy moaned, "Sexy."

"Seconded," Neville and Luna chorused.

Kurt rolled his eyes, "All of you get off me! Get off, get off, get off."

"Wow," Neville rolled his eyes, "I bet this wouldn't happen if we had biceps."

"Or if we were declared Hummelsexuals," Luna moaned.

"I guess you'll never know," Kurt shrugged.

"Harsh."

Mandy kissed the boy's cheek, "Your biceps are perfect to me, babes."

"Besides, declared or undeclared," Kurt eyed his three friends who were hanging off him, "I know just what your orientation is."

"If you're quite done," Hermione cocked her hip and quirked an expectant brow.

"Just a minute longer," Mandy teased, "Kurt's about to tell us what Luna dreams of."

"Cute," Hermione smirked, "But this'll only take a minute."

"Fine Granger," Kurt rolled his eyes, delivering an expert impression of Pansy's impassive tone.

"I think we need to figure out what more we can do to prepare ourselves and our peers for the Dark Lord's next move," Hermione spoke pointedly, "we need to be more proactive."

"You're calling him the Dark Lord," Ron gushed, "Kurt said that would catch on."

Kurt preened under the attention, "I'm often right and I have an eye for emerging trends, so this shouldn't surprise anyone."

"What would have surprised us is if you hadn't taken the opportunity to gloat," Lisa rolled her eyes.

"I was simply mentioning it in passing seeing as Ron brought it up."

"I'm trying to conduct a meeting here," Hermione cocked her hip.

"What do you have in mind?" Harry asked, trying to keep the conversation on track.

"I have no idea," Hermione shrugged, "that's why we're having this chat, we need to brainstorm ideas."

Luna cleared her throat before speaking, "Are we trying to formulate an offensive or defensive plan?"

"Don't we already have a defensive plan?" Neville furrowed his brow.

"So what?" Ron mirrored Neville's expression, "We're taking the fight to them."

"No," Mandy shook her head, "That would not be wise at all under present circumstances, we're not ready to launch a full scale attack."

"Then what?"

"Let me save us all a lot of time," Lisa rolled her eyes, "What does Kurt think we should do?"

"Wow Lisa," Mandy giggled, "You're not even going to pretend we were going to consider your idea as valid?"

"As the quote often incorrectly accredited to Einstein says; insanity is doing the same thing over and over, and expecting different results," Lisa shrugged, playing with Harry's hand in hers, "we're playing ourselves if we think that we're going to follow anyone's plan but Kurt's, or possibly Harry's."

"Hey," Harry raised his hands in surrender.

Lisa leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, "I still love you baby."

"So," Harry turned to Kurt, "What will it be?"

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate," Kurt began, "our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure."

"It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us," Hermione continued.

Mandy rolled her eyes, "We ask ourselves; who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous?"

"Actually," Neville kissed Mandy before he carried on with the quote, "Who are you not to be?"

"That's often credited to Nelson Mandela," Kurt explained, "Incorrectly so."

"But Kurt says it so much that one might think it's a Kurt Hummel quote," Neville chuckled.

"He says it almost as much as he brings up the children," Hermione elaborated.

Kurt shrugged, "I read it in a self-help book Dr Rhodes recommended."

"Your point being what?" Lisa quirked a curious brow, "I'm not having a crisis of confidence." She casually flipped her strawberry blonde hair, "I'm saying this because Kurt has the most protracted view of the current circumstance, and most of us know why."

"Why is that?" Kurt quirked a curious brow.

"You simultaneously maintain an outside-in and an inside-out perspective," Lisa explained with arrogant smirk and another flip of her hair, "the blonde comes from a bottle."

"Cute," Kurt smirked, "and while I am ready to accept such high praise from Lisa Turpin, some might mistake us for friends now."

"And it would be a mistake," Lisa flashed a saccharine smile, "I still think you're a pretentious, self-involved succubus."

"Thank you," Kurt pursed his lips, "that's high praise from the human equivalent of a vanilla wafer."

Harry cleared his throat, "That's enough Kurt."

"It's never enough when I'm being called a sex demon by someone who isn't smart enough to know that a male demon of such a nature is called an incubus," Kurt scoffed. He fixed an imaginary stray hair and squared his shoulders, "we're digressing."

"If that's digressing then I don't want to see what character assassination looks like," Ron chuckled.

"I think we're ready to move on to the next phase," Kurt nodded to himself.

Ron furrowed his brow, "We're doing this in phases? Why does no one tell me anything?"

"Nobody but Kurt thinks we're doing this in phases," Hermione assured the red headed boy, "he likes to eat an elephant one bite at a time." She tucked her hair behind her ear, "and Kurt is so anal that he has to keep record of every bite he intends to take and the impact after the bite."

Luna giggled, "you're taking this analogy pretty far."

"I want to get rid of Professor Umbridge," Kurt's tone was matter of fact.

"What?" Neville raised a silencing hand at the chatter that was filling the room, "how the hell are we supposed to do that?"

"You're the Gryffindor students," Kurt smiled, "Brave, fool hardy, swashbuckling anti-heroes; this is your moment to shine, ideas?"

"I knew he wasn't asking all of us," Lisa flashed a self-satisfied smirk.

"You want to challenge her to a duel?" Ron suggested.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "we want her fired, not dead."

"I'm open to either," Kurt shrugged, "What I'm not open to is going to prison."

"Well," Ron shrugged, "We could get Fred and George to drive her crazy, and into retirement."

"That's a given," Mandy nodded, "but as the High Inquisitor, it isn't primarily her job. She would only receive secondary stress from the matter."

"So, let's put a pin in that," Lisa nodded, "we could get Professor Dumbledore to turn Hogwarts, as private property, into a centaur sanctuary."

"What?" Harry furrowed his brow, clearly perplexed.

"Umbridge is a huge racist," Lisa explained, "she can't stand 'half-breeds', it would drive her crazy."

"That would require the approval of the Board of Governors," Hermione shook her head, "a group of old men who, for the most part, share in Umbridge's beliefs."

"But I like where Lisa's going with this," Kurt nodded to himself, "we derail everything she stands for in terms of policy, we undermine every educational decree we can and even some of her governing work."

"We hit her where it hurts most," Lisa smirked, "her prejudices."

"Let's give Lisa's wisdom some thought and reconvene tomorrow in the Library," Kurt nodded to himself, "let's say, at about four?"

"Can we do earlier?" Ron raised his hand, "I have quidditch practice in the afternoon."

"You can do earlier without me," Kurt shrugged, "Harry and I have a lunch engagement."

"I have no prior knowledge of such an engagement."

"Consider this prior knowledge."

"Well," Harry chuckled to himself, "that's not cryptic at all."

"It wasn't meant to be expository," Kurt shook his head, "it's none of anyone's business." Kurt picked up his tote bag, "if you'll excuse me, I have a late lunch with Terrence and then dinner with Tracey; I'm having a 'T' day. Do you see what it sounds like when I want you to know what I'm up to?"

"Why are you friends with this person?" Mandy stared searchingly into Neville's eyes.

"Because I'm fucking crazy," Kurt flashed a broad smirk and exited the room of requirement.

Kurt descended the stairs with great haste, he was technically late but he didn't have the energy to bend shadows or the down time to deal with migraine that followed; he reserved that extravagance for when it was absolutely necessary. Making Terry wait ten minutes while he worked on saving the world was not worth the stress, he would rather navigate the castle and risk being cornered by the Ravenclaw students wanting to ask him questions based on his study guide; though the Ravenclaws were few, they seemed to be everywhere and they wanted him to answer their questions. He had tried to explain that there was a whole team of people who were uniquely qualified to answer their questions, but to no avail, he had star power.

"Kurt," Terry smiled up at him, "You're late."

"The wizarding world won't save itself," Kurt shrugged nonchalantly, "I am the Messiah, the Jesus Christ Superstar if you will."

"You don't know how religion works," Terry pulled Kurt down onto the picnic blanket and kissed him on the cheek, "I have finally found an area in which I can teach you."

"You're better at Maths and Physics," Kurt smiled at him.

Terry shook his head, "I want to share with you the word of The Baby Jesus."

"I love cheeses," Kurt gasped excitedly, "never tried baby ones."

"Well," the young man produced two sandwich bags, "I have chicken, emmental and prosciutto on rye, there's Dijon mustard mayo on yours."

"Yes," Kurt moaned in ecstasy, "should I just blow you now?"

"Yes please," Terry grinned, moving to unbuckle his pants.

"I'm here for sandwiches and intellectually stimulating conversation today," Kurt smiled politely, "I can pencil you in tomorrow during first period, we can cut Ancient Runes."

"Sounds good to me."

"Then it's a date," Kurt flashed a suggestive smile as he pencilled the appointment into his day planner, "what have you been up to?"

"I read Tracey's paper on simultaneous spell casting," Terry smiled as he laid down, pulling Kurt into his arms, "it is a genius idea, it smells like you."

"It is genius," Kurt smiled broadly, "her idea and methodology are impeccable."

"And I know you had a hand in it," Terry kissed Kurt's forehead, "I've read that study guide you wrote from cover to cover, and I know how this mind works."

"I'm not denying involvement," Kurt traced lazy circles into Terry's chest, "the girls and I use each other as sounding boards all the time."

"You're not a sounding board," Terry shook his head, "You're an instrument." Terry shook his head, "even when you're just the medium or facilitator of genius, you have a distinct tone."

"You keep kissing my ass like this and I'll cancel tomorrow morning's appointment."

"I'm not taking away from Tracey's genius," Terry tried to walk back what he'd said, "if you're a piano, then she isn't just a concert pianist, she is a composer." Terry smiled excitedly, "She is Tchaikovsky and this is Swan Lake, a master piece in which the piano is one small but important part."

"You may not think you're taking this away from Tracey but you are," Kurt looked up at the boy who was holding him, "She's brilliant and she came up with this on her own, she only ran it by Hermione and I because Professor Flitwick told her to." Kurt grabbed a handful of Terry's shirt and pulled him in close enough to whisper, "All I did was criticize and eat happiness."

"Sounds like you," Terry pulled Kurt in for a kiss.

Kurt pulled back and took a bite from his sandwich, "This is a good sandwich."

Terry preened under the compliment, "I figured I should go with the good cheese, considering I'm dealing with someone who loves cheese so much they wrote a paper on telling the future through cheese."

"Choosing emmental was a big risk," Kurt smirked, "my Oma and Pa make a mean emmental on their farm."

"The bigger risk was choosing such an obscure branch of divination," Terry shrugged, "I'm by no means an expert, but I would have gone with Centaur Astrology."

"As I said, cheese is a family business," Kurt shrugged, "And this way I got to write off my trips to Alsace as tax deductible business travel and independent study."

"Smart," the boy beamed, "Speaking of family…"

Kurt giggled, "I was wondering how long it would take the conversation to circle back to my little revelation."

"I tried to hold out as long as I could but…" he let out a defeated sigh, "Bellatrix LeStrange?"

"Yes," Kurt nodded slowly, "it came as quite the shock to me as well."

"I don't want to labour the point," Terry shifted nervously, "You've probably had this revelation and I'd hate to be redundant."

"Out with it!" Kurt snapped.

"You do know that despite sharing DNA with these people, their actions and life choices do not define you," Terry swallowed nervously.

"I know," Kurt nodded, "but it's always nice to hear."

"You never have to feel in anyway responsible for anything they did or will do," they rose to a sitting position and Terry held Kurt's face in both his hands, staring intently into his eyes.

"I know."

"You are beautiful inside and out," the boy carried on, "not despite them, or because of them, but independently of them."

Kurt chuckled, holding back tears, "You're heading straight for a smack bottom."

"Please," Terry leaned forward and kissed Kurt so deeply that his toes curled, "and thank you."

~0~

"Umbridge appointed you to the inquisitorial squad?" Ron gaped at Kurt as he eyed the silver badge on his lapel, "Why?"

"She appointed all the fifth year Slytherin's to that stupid squad, sans Tracey," Kurt rolled his eyes as he opened his mail, "And that's because she's a half-blood."

"You're 'Muggleborn'," Ron spoke with air quotes included.

"Yes," Kurt nodded, twirling his silver letter opener as if it weren't sharp enough to slice a finger off, "but it's now a known secret that I'm probably not."

"But you're also Harry's very close friend," Ron countered.

"She's counting on that," Kurt smirked as he read the feminine cursive, "that my need for self-preservation and my ambition will turn me against Harry in order to get ahead."

"You're smiling," Ron furrowed his brow, "Why are you smiling?"

"Because Umbridge is wrong about me," Kurt grinned malevolently, "And my family got out of London, before anything could happen to them."

"Where'd they go?" Ron furrowed his brow.

"To Oma and Pa's farm," Kurt nodded slowly as he read the remainder of the letter. He shook his head, and growled under his breath, "I'm going to punch him in the throat."

"Who are you going to punch in the throat?" Ron furrowed his brow, "not me, right?"

"My house sitter," Kurt rolled his eyes, "He's helping himself to my champagne."

"Someone doesn't value their life," Ron scoffed.

He opened the next letter and frowned, "this one's from your mother, she's worried about me."

"That's thoughtful of her," Ron eyed him cautiously, "right?"

"She's confusing me for a fragile child and I don't like it," Kurt glared at the letter, "I work best without adult supervision, this concern is a gateway to people watching me closely and stifling my creative process."

"Creative process?" Ron scoffed, "is that what you're calling it?"

"Calling what?" Terry slid into the seat beside Kurt and kissed him on the cheek, "Good morning beautiful."

"Good morning Terrence," Kurt smiled politely, "Ron was making a crack at how I spend my free time."

"Being brilliant?"

"That's sweet."

Terry leaned forward and grabbed the discarded letter, "who's writing you, your sister?"

"My sister is a toddler," Kurt smiled politely, "she can't write."

"How do you get so much mail?" Terry glanced at the stack of letters, "I thought you said I only had three other guys as competition, I'm starting to think I should be concerned." The boy turned in his seat so that he was straddling the bench and hugged Kurt's side, wrapping his arms around Kurt's waist, "Goyle and Weasley I know I can take, they can barely spell their own names, but with this many letters…"

"I can hear you," Ron glared at Terry, "this is why you're not my pick for the win."

"Good morning Kurt," Gregory Goyle sat down opposite him and glared at the boy who had his limbs wrapped around Kurt, "Boot, Weasley."

"What is this?" Ron furrowed his brow, staring at the large boy beside him.

"I'm just eating breakfast," Gregory shrugged, "Same as you."

"Yes," Kurt nodded as the boy shovelled scrambled eggs into his mouth, "but I believe Ron's question is why are you doing that here?"

"Well," Kurt gasped as a foot grazed his shin, moving up his leg, "I'm being sociable."

"Big word," Terry teased.

"Not the only thing that's big," Goyle grinned, flexing his biceps, "I've heard different of you."

"I'm trying to eat here," Ron glared from one of them to the other.

"I'm not stopping you," Gregory shrugged. He returned his attention to Kurt, "what are you reading?"

"My mail," Kurt glared at the boy who was playing footsie-footsie with him under the table, "it's one of my morning chores."

Kurt opened the next letter and his breath hitched as he recognised the handwriting, Ron quirked his brow, "who is it from?"

"Your aunt," Kurt was intentionally vague, "she says I was right about the hollandaise sauce, and would like to know what might make the perfect eggs benedict."

"You cook?" Gregory's face lit up.

"It's not very different from potions making," Kurt shrugged, "you find the right recipe, you follow the instructions and-"

"Buttery deliciousness," Gregory moaned.

"You're clearly familiar with hollandaise sauce," Terry smirked, "but I think how multitalented Kurt is should be your focus."

"I know just how multitalented Kurt is," Gregory smirked, wagging his brow suggestively, "a lot better than you ever will."

"Boys," Kurt glared at both the boys, "behave." Kurt produced his personalised stationary, "Or you will regret it."

"Sorry," Gregory's shoulders slumped.

Kurt made quick work of writing down a recipe for Eggs Benedict, keeping his mind on what he really wanted the letter to say. It was addressed to Xun, a response to her admitting that he was correct about Voldermort breaking former Death Eaters out of Azkaban. Kurt was explaining to her that he suspected the hall of records to be the Dark Lord's next target, it appeared in the page as instructions on how to poach an egg so that it was perfectly soft- a Julia Child recipe.

"You have really pretty handwriting," Gregory smiled sheepishly.

"Yes," Terry smirked, "you have impeccable penmanship."

Kurt looked up from where he was signing his name, he tapped the letter with his wand and whispered and incantation which made the letter fold itself and slide into the envelope.

Kurt glared at Gregory, "You should be quiet while I'm concentrating." He turned to Terry, "You shouldn't show off."

"What's going on here?" Tracey eyed the group suspiciously as she slid into the seat beside Kurt, "are you guys getting ready for a fourway?"

"I don't do that kind of thing," Ron shook his head.

"So you're not a Hummelsexual," Tracey smirked, "How refreshing."

"Jealousy is a good colour on you," Terry scoffed.

"It's my colouring," Tracey pursed her lips and crossed her legs, "goes well with everything."

"I hear no lies," Kurt nodded.

"I need your help," Tracey pulled out her moleskin.

"Still no lies," Kurt giggled.

"Good one," Terry guffawed.

"You're trying too hard," Ron glanced sideways at the Ravenclaw boy, "nobody likes a kiss ass." He shook his head, "You're making me like Goyle better than you."

"Thank you Weasley."

Ron held up a silencing finger, "Be quiet white boy."

"You're white," Tracey rolled her eyes, "So white you almost glow in the dark."

"That's uncalled for," Ron grumbled into his chest.

"No," Kurt shook his head, "I think you earned that."

"Okay," Tracey turned her attention to Kurt, "Could you stop thinking about Goyle's boner for a moment and answer my question?"

Gregory's face lit up, "You think of my boners?"

"How can I help you Tracey?"

"I wanted you to look over my charms essay," Tracey produced parchment with perfectly uniform handwriting, "Flitwick gave me an exceeds expectations grade on my last one and yet he believes you shoot rainbows out of your ass, where am I going wrong? He loved my paper on simultaneous spell casting."

"Clearly by not being Kurt," Ron chuckled, "it seems everyone thinks the sun shines out of his backside."

"It is a great backside," Terry moaned.

"Agreed," Gregory smiled salaciously.

Kurt dropped the parchment and looked at Tracey in surprise, "I expected better from you."

"It's that bad?" Tracey gaped at him, snatching her essay defensively.

"It's worse," Kurt shook his head, "it's boring."

"Boring?" Tracey furrowed her brow, "it's an essay on the permanence of enchanting objects, not a Stephan King novel."

"I'm not saying it isn't informative," Kurt leaned forward, "this is all great stuff but if the marker doesn't enjoy reading your work then they're less likely to give you a good grade."

"So what?" Tracey quirked a curious brow, "Do I need some cute stories like you told Pansy she needed?"

"No, Pansy didn't have a tone problem, she had a content problem," Kurt chuckled, "you're much smarter than she is, what you have here is enough for an Outstanding OWL. What you need is more style, the thing about Stephen King novels is that they are written such that you want to read them."

"Fine," Tracey rolled her eyes, "what should I do? How should I fix this?"

"You can start by dropping the attitude," Kurt smiled politely, "I'm already dealing with a lot here." Kurt gestured to the boy hanging off his shoulder, "What you need to do is switch up your structure slightly."

"Please tell me quickly so I don't have to keep watching Goyle imagining being knuckles deep in you for much longer," Tracey rolled her eyes with a flip of her braids, "I just ate."

"Same sis," Ron waved his hands in surrender.

Tracey glared at him, "We're not friends."

"Your introduction explains perfectly what the essay is going to say," Kurt marked the essay with a red marker, "this tone, would make this exact same essay miles more interesting. A run-on sentence here and there, move the facts to the beginning of the stanza and add a little imagery as a link between the opinions and findings."

Tracey took the essay from him and went over it quickly, "doesn't look very different but then again, what do I know?"

"You didn't care about this essay."

Tracey quirked a curious brow, "I beg your pardon?"

"I've read your work when you care," Kurt shook his head, "this isn't it, this is you doing your homework because you have to." Kurt flashed a small smile, "this isn't even a tenth as good as your masterpiece on simultaneous enchantments."

"Fine," Tracey rolled his eyes, "I don't much care for magical theory."

"You focus on your magical theory and you'll overtake Padma for third place," Kurt shrugged, "maybe even Hermione for second place."

"I thought you were in second place?"

"For now," Kurt smirked, "consider the last four years my academic rope-a-dope."

"Really?" Tracey scoffed, "you want to compare yourself to Mahammad Ali?"

"Maybe."

"Because you aren't nearly as legendary," Tracey shook her head, "or as hot."

"You're being a bit of a bitch for someone I just helped with their homework," Kurt glared at her.

"This is the part where he makes you kiss the ring," Ron scoffed.

"No," Kurt glared at Ron, "This is the part where I ask her to save me from this breakfast."

"Nope," Tracey shook her head, "you got the wrong girl, I told you I wasn't getting involved in this mess you've tangled yourself in."

"Besides," Terry grabbed his hand and kissed his neck, "We have a morning engagement."

"Try that again and it'll be the last time you have hands," Gregory growled.

"Dark," Terry and Ron chorused.

"Sexy," Kurt let slip simultaneously, he received a reproachful look from Ron, "Right, dark, so dark."

"I'm sure there's some appeal to that primitive jealousy," Ron shrugged.

"I'm going to go find someone who wants to be knuckles deep in me," Tracey waved over her shoulder, "Tracey Davis out."

"This morning you're mine," Terry growled in a voice barely above a whisper, "completely."

Kurt could see Gregory was seething, "What are you doing this afternoon?"

"I'm tutoring Harry at lunch, then Hermione and I are hitting the library," Kurt shrugged, "After dinner the girls and I are having a group study session for our Dark Arts OWL."

"Don Karkaroff said I was set to do well in Dark Arts," Gregory gloated.

"Good for you," Kurt smiled politely, "But not everyone has your natural acclamation for the subject, I have it, but not everyone."

"May I be excused?" Ron glared at the three of them, "I need to go throw up."

"Too much information," Kurt rolled his eyes.

"You're telling me," Ron shook his head, "This threeway was a bridge too far for me."

Terry's face lit up, "Could w-"

"Not a chance in hell," Gregory cut him off before he could complete the thought.

~0~

"This is nice," Harry looked around Kurt's dorm room, "like, hotel nice."

"Thank you," Kurt smiled politely as he unpacked his school tote and placed it in his trunk.

"Are all the Slytherin dorms this nice?" the boy looked like he wanted to sit on the bed but wasn't sure how the tiger sized kneazle would take that, "or is this because you're Kurt Elizabeth Hummel?"

"They're all this lovely," Kurt smirked, "it's like our gift for being hated by everyone."

Harry shuffled from heel to toe, "fancy."

"The fanciest," Kurt fixed an imaginary stray hair as he spoke.

"Is this like the only time you guys are better than everyone," Harry chuckled, "right?"

"Considering we've won the House Cup every year for the last fifteen odd years, barring one," Kurt pursed his lips, "I'd like to think we're the best at a number of things, even if that only means our ability to cohabitate and cooperate."

"Right," Harry nodded, "and that one year was because you let us win."

"Sit," Kurt assured him, "Bomballerina wouldn't hurt a fly."

"I saw what she tried to do to Scabbers," Harry shuddered.

Kurt smirked, "And I saw what you did to Professor Quirrel."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I think you can take her," Kurt's smirk grew into a malevolent grin, "she is just an itty-bitty kitty-cat."

"That's as much a kitty-cat as I am," Harry scoffed.

"I never took you for a cat person," Kurt shrugged as he picked up his Burkin.

"So," Harry fiddle with his sweater, "this lunch engagement…" Kurt watched the boy try to construct a complete thought, "what's up?"

"We're going to Durham," Kurt beamed.

"Like the coal mines?" Harry furrowed his brow.

"Try not to think about it," Kurt shook his head as he threw his cloak over Harry's shoulders, dimmed the lights and walked into a darkened corner.

When they came out on the other side, Harry collapsed on his hands and knees. Kurt smiled down at him, "You get used to it."

"You could have warned me," Harry shook his head as he moved into a sitting position and stopped immediately, "that only makes it worse."

A hand extended from the shadows of the poorly lit room, helping Harry to his feet and handing him a glass of clear sparkling liquid, "this helps."

"Thanks disembodied shadow voice," He gulped down the liquid quickly, "I think I just drank ammonia."

"I'm surprised you've heard of ammonia," Kurt quirked a surprised brow.

"I read," Kurt glared at him, "Hermione reads and I'm near her at the time."

"That sounds better."

"I feel better," Harry smiled, "what potion was that?"

"Gin," Kurt answered nonchelantly, "And tonic; quinine helps with the headache for some reason."

"And the gin?"

"That's for fun," Kurt smirked.

"I thought you said we were going to Durham," Harry looked around the dimly lit room, "this looks like your house."

"This is my house," Kurt nodded as the curtains started opening and lighting up the formal lounge, "we're taking the floo to Durham. You can't just shadow travel into people's houses, that would be rude."

"I didn't think you were one to shy away from rudeness."

"Charlie?" Harry squinted in the newly brightened room, "is that you?"

"As I live and breathe," the broad young man chortled.

"Not for long if you keep drinking my champagne," Kurt growled, "I will kill you quicker than you can say 'He who shall not be named'."

"Good to see this is still a thing you do," Harry rolled his eyes, "What is it that prevents you from being amicable with Weasleys?"

"Draco has difficulty as well," Kurt flashed a saccharine smile, "maybe it's genetic."

"Or maybe it's because you're both gits and we're the best people in existence," Charlie shrugged.

Kurt rolled his eyes, "prepare the floo and be quiet."

"When did you connect your house to the floo?" Harry furrowed his brow.

"Hipster Weasley did it."

"Speaking of," Harry turned to the heavily freckled boy, "Why are you here?"

"I'm sorry," Charlie furrowed his brow and crossed his arms, "I didn't realise I had to explain my where abouts to the great Harry Potter."

"What I mean is…" Harry scratched at the back of his neck, "shouldn't you be in Romania or something?"

"Should?" Charlie quirked a challenging brow, "is that a command?"

"No, you're not understanding me," Harry ran his fingers through his hair and let out a defeated sigh, "Kurt please help."

"I'm just messing with you," Charlie gave the dark-haired boy a too hard pat on the shoulder, "I didn't want to be off on the side lines while I everyone I cared about put themselves in the line of fire. I also didn't want to worry mum, she was so glad I was safe in Romania."

"So he came to the one person who always has a solution," Kurt smirked, "And like Santa I pulled a little something out of my bag."

"I now tend to the Dragon that guards the LeStrange Family Vault at Gringotts," Charlie shrugged nonchalantly, "you assholes did a real number on that poor thing."

"I didn't even know there was a vault until a month or so ago," Kurt held his hands up in surrender, "I also got right on rectifying that misdeed as soon as I was aware and able."

Harry furrowed his brow, "So you work for Bellatrix LeStrange?"

"You do know that LeStrange is her married name?" Kurt tilted his head in surprise, "he would work for Rudolphus LeStrange but Wizarding Law automatically disinherits anyone serving a life sentence in Azkaban, that's why Sirius isn't rolling in it." Kurt flashed a self-satisfied smirk, "he works for me."

"Two things," Charlie's velvety voice boomed, "We could have this conversation on the other side." He herded them into the fireplace, "24 Morrison Street, Durham."

The green flames enveloped them and they emerged in the lounge of a more modest version of his house, cleaned to perfection but sans designer wallpaper. Seated in the lounge were Remus, Sirius, Tonks and a woman who looked strikingly like Bellatrix- Andromeda.

"Secondly," Charlie continued, "I don't work for Kurt, I work for the Gringotts Bank."

"Keep telling yourself that," Kurt grinned.

"Whatever," Charlie growled, "How are your four boyfriends?"

"Depends," Harry smirked, "How are you Hipster Weasley?"

"Harry!" Kurt and Charlie chorused.

"How dare you insinuate that Hipster Weasley is anything but my employee!"

"He has biceps and you talk to him all the time," Harry shrugged, "isn't that how your desire of suitors works?"

"You're finding your own way back to Hogwarts," Kurt shook his head.

"If you're quite done," Sirius chortled.

"We're actually not done," Kurt raised a silencing finger, "And also… oh, okay, we are done." He shrugged, "Harry, I thought that Lunch with some of your favourite non-leadership people would serve you well."

"What the hell is leadership?" Charlie whispered.

"Later," Kurt shook his head, he moved across the room and stood before the woman who looked like a more delicately crafted version of his birth mother, "Kurt Elizabeth Hummel, son of Bellatrix and Rudolphus LeStrange." There was an amicable tension between them for a moment, "so, what should I call you? Aunt Andy?"

"Nobody has called me Andy since I got married and all the people who called me that stopped speaking to me," she offered a small smile that reminded him of Druella, "Everyone simply calls me Andromeda."

"Not me," Tonks interjected, "I call her mum."

"Ah yes," Andromeda nodded, "and Edward calls me Dromeda when we're getting dirty. I don't think either of these are appropriate for Kurt, don't you think Nymphadora?"

"We've had this conversation," Tonks was seething as she served him tea, "I'd prefer if you called me Tonks."

"Nonsense," the woman shook her head, "that isn't something you're called in casual company, least of all by your mother."

"Speaking of mothers," Kurt gaped at her, "You are uncannily like your own mother."

"I told her the same thing," Sirius nodded excitedly, "she's always been most like her mother."

"That would be Narcissa," Her voice was level and void of emotion just like her mothers, "but, you've had the pleasure of meeting my mother?"

"We do lunch every now and again," Kurt shrugged, "She and Jadis never fail to tell me how like my biological parents I am."

"Arrogant, condescending and always right?"

"Yes," came as a resounding chorus through the room.

"I think I'm more surprised that Jadis Rowle LeStrange is still alive than I am that Bellatrix would have a son who manages to be both a difficult and perfect child," she pursed her lips, "I'm sure she'll hate to love you."

"Much too like her?"

"Too much for my sister's liking," Andromeda shook her head, "Shall we move to the dinning room?"

"After you," Remus nodded politely.

Kurt was following the group into the next room when Charlie grabbed him by the elbow, "a moment."

"Don't grab me," Kurt shook his head.

"Sorry," the larger boy shrugged, "I was trying to be subtle, I didn't think it untoward."

"Do it again and it'll be the last time you have hands."

"That escalated quickly," Charlie gulped.

Kurt rolled his eyes, "how can I help you Charles?"

"What's the angle?"

Kurt quirked a curious brow, "I beg your pardon?"

"This lunch," Kurt watched the young man roll his muscular shoulders, "what's the end game?"

"I'm guessing three or so courses," Kurt shrugged.

Charlie furrowed his heavily freckled brow, "three courses? I mean the big picture."

Kurt pursed his lips, "Have you ever been lost and alone in the dark?"

"What?"

"When you feel lost, unsure where to go or how to move," Kurt flashed a small smile, "every move you make feels like the wrong one."

"I don't get where you're going with this," he shook his head.

Kurt's smile grew, "when you have someone's hand in yours, when you have assurance that you are not alone, it makes the darkness that much less frightening."

"Knowing that you won't be too lost as long as you're not alone," Charlie nodded but the lights weren't coming on.

Kurt nodded slowly, "Harry doesn't see Hermione, Lisa, Luna, Neville, Ron or me as a hand in the dark, we're too close."

"You're giving him the hand in the dark."

"I'm reminding him that he matters to people outside of being 'the Boy who lived'."

Charlie chuckled, "you never seize to amaze me."

"I am amazing," Kurt fixed an imaginary stray.

"Let me rephrase," Charlie scratched nervously at the back of his neck, "you'll never stop surprising me."

"When we stop surprising the people in our lives," Kurt shrugged, "then the game is over."

"Then take my assurance," Charlie crossed his arms, "you are still very in the game."

I hope you guys enjoyed this, reviews are love!