A new chapter done came in the mail! Halleloo!

Kurt let out a huge yawn as he sat waiting for the Headmaster. He was glad that they were working on rehabilitating their relationship after the last academic year's fall out but he wasn't sure how happy he was about the choice of a late night meeting on their first night back at school, he was exhausted from the journey and unpacking his room- not that it showed. Kurt checked his watch for the last time, he would not be kept waiting.

"Sorry for the delay," the headmaster flashed him a small smile, "The head auror was briefing me on how reintroducing students to the secured Hogwarts grounds was going."

"You should be sorry, I need my beauty rest," He crossed his arms to reaffirm his dissatisfaction, Kurt quirked a curious brow, "Why weren't the Hogwarts grounds secured already?"

"Wow," Professor Dumbledore held his hands up in surrender, "I'm feeling very attacked by that question."

"As you should be," Kurt spoke absentmindedly as he moved forward in his seat, his attention drawn by the Headmaster's hand, "How did you get it?"

"Get it?" the man gaped at Kurt.

"Den Langsomme Dødenroter," Kurt exclaimed excitedly.

"You know what this is?" Professor Dumbledore quirked a curious brow at him.

"It's one of those curses most people haven't heard of, only mentioned in the most obscure of dark arts books," Kurt shrugged, "There hasn't been a recorded case in almost a thousand years, only one book in the library's restricted section mentions it and the author didn't even know how the curse worked."

"You do?"

"It's ancient Norse," Kurt explained, "No known cure." A malevolent smile spread across Kurt's face, "it was used to protect the elite's barrows of wealth which had been reserved for Valhalla, it was claimed to turn whomever it infected into a wight- similar to inferi."

"Tell me more," the man egged him on.

"Well, that part is legend," Kurt rolled his eyes, "But the curse is supposed to inflict terrible pain and a slow death on the afflicted, Killing them in about a month or so." Kurt examined the headmaster's hand, "this is fresh, maybe you have a month."

"I've had it for a month and a half," Professor Dumbledore explained, he seemed to contemplate Kurt's words for a moment, "I thought you said the library book on this affliction had very limited amount of information."

"Oh, definitely," Kurt shook his head, "You should really work on the library's collection of Dark Arts books, that is like studying pharmacology without understanding the viruses you aim to cure." Kurt waved off his imagined protests, "Understanding dark arts is the corner stone to learning and applying most of what we are learning here."

"But where did you learn about this curse?"

"Considering it hasn't been seen in almost a millennium?" Kurt furrowed his brow for a moment, "I read it somewhere… or it just came to me in a dream… Just Kidding, it was in one of the books I bought in Czechoslovakia year before last." He shrugged, "Doesn't really matter to me. You said you've had this for a month and a half, how aren't you dead? And how does it still look so fresh?"

"Professor Snape has come up with an elixir to help me slow down the effects of the curse," the Headmaster smiled, "he has given me till the end of the school year."

"And death is only the beginning of the next great adventure to the well-prepared mind," Kurt nodded to himself, "I don't want to see you die."

"It was inevitable," Professor Dumbledore smiled sadly, "I am a hundred years your senior, you were always going to outlive me; at least, I would hope so now that the fire is back in your eyes."

Kurt let out a defeated sigh, "I wanted you to be there when I was right about the second wizarding war."

"Because there is no point in being right if nobody is wrong?"

"Because you're my friend and I didn't want to see you die without finding peace," Kurt shook his head, "or helping to create it."

"Kurt," Professor Dumbledore smiled sadly at him, "I am at peace knowing that you will fight to defend the defenceless."

"How did you get it?" Kurt breathed deeply, holding back his tears.

"Do you remember Tom Riddle's diary?"

"Yes," Kurt nodded to himself, "You went to great lengths to ensure I wouldn't look too deeply into it."

"I would like to retract that request," the headmaster bowed his head.

"That's why you brought Professor Slughorn back," Kurt nodded to himself, "you think he knows something about it."

"I know he knows what it is," the Headmaster puffed out his chest as he spoke, "And if Harry can't find out what it is from Slughorn, then I trust you will figure it out now that the time is right."

Kurt narrowed his gaze and stared down his nose at his elderly friend, "There is something more, something you're not telling me."

"I have found another relic similar to the diary," the man confessed.

"You have," Kurt sat up straight as a whip, "show it to me."

The man handed him a dull silver ring inset with a pebble, an unknown marking engraved into the stone. The ring was cracked and broken but still holding itself together despite the damage, Kurt rolled it between his fingers and the let out an exasperated groan, "You've destroyed it."

"That is how I came about this curse."

"How am I supposed to study the husk of a magical masterpiece?" Kurt pinched the bridge of his nose, "did it try to influence or possess you?"

"It attempted to influence me," the elderly man nodded, "yes."

"Did it have any defined motives?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"The diary wanted Ginny to open The Chamber of Secrets," Kurt groaned, "I'm going to have to speak to her."

"Nothing quite so well defined or specific," he shook his head, "only destruction."

"It got what it wanted because you destroyed it beyond the point where I am able to study it," Kurt rolled his eyes.

Professor Dumbledore crossed his arms, "You destroyed the diary."

"I was a child when I did that," Kurt rolled his eyes, "You are an adult, you should have known better."

Professor Dumbledore seemed to take an afront to Kurt's candour, he appeared to mull the details of his accusation over. It took a few minutes before he spoke, "Have you ever heard the tale that there was only one wizard that Lord Voldemort ever feared?"

"I am not here to stroke your ego," Kurt rolled his eyes, "this doesn't excuse your foolishness."

"He chose me because he knew me," the man explained, ignoring what Kurt had said, "If he had been wiser, he would have feared the next generation." The Headmaster stroked his long beard for a while, "Professors McGonagall, Flitwick and Snape know everything I know and more."

"But he doesn't fear them," Kurt rolled his eyes, "I know, you taught all three."

"He fears the past catching up with him more than he fears the future," Professor Dumbledore shook his head, "he will never fear the threat posed by Harry Potter as much as he has feared me."

"Fascinating story," Kurt shrugged, "why are you telling me things I already know?"

"Because I too have only feared one wizard in my life," the Headmaster confessed.

"We've discussed Grinderwald," Kurt shook his head.

Professor Dumbledore shook his head, "I loved Grinderwald."

"So, your fear was mutual," Kurt rolled his eyes, "whoopie!"

"My fear is in the present continuous," his elderly friend explained, "and that wizard is you."

"That isn't funny," Kurt pursed his lips, his mood turning sour.

"My intention was never to be funny," he let out a tired sigh, "but rather, I wanted to be informative."

"To what end?" Kurt snapped, "telling me that I'm a greater evil? That when Voldemort is dead, I will be the next great threat?"

"My fear of you is not based in false prophecies of your potential for evil," the man explained, "but rather it is based in your great power and even greater potential."

"I don't follow."

"I fear you because you not only possess great power, but great knowledge too," Professor Dumbledore explained, "You will recreate magic in your image, whatever that will mean. You will turn me, the Dark Lord and all four founders into relics regardless of the path you choose to follow."

"That isn't funny."

The elderly man shook his head, "which part did you think was intended as a joke?"

"I'm not going to turn all of wizarding kind evil," Kurt snapped.

"With equal effort, you could turn them all good."

"The dark arts are part of my image," Kurt explained.

"And maybe they should be part of every student's education," Professor Dumbledore shrugged, "as should muggle education."

"How do y-"

"The same way I knew to watch Tom," Professor Dumbledore explained, "there is a fire inside you."

"I just want to protect my friends and family," Kurt wiped away tears before they could form.

The Headmaster smiled at him, "there's something more, Love."

"I love them all so much," Kurt turned up his nose, his pride keeping his tears at bay.

"There is something special about how your love manifests, it moves mountains."

~0~

Kurt stood at the ballet bar in the abandoned transfiguration classroom Professor McGonagall had given him, he was working on his barre exercises. He moved into a seventh position arabesque; strong, firm hands corrected his near perfect posture and Kurt's whole body smiled.

"There," a too familiar voice spoke in his ear, "perfect, as always." Kurt turned to thank his instructor but stopped dead at the perfect smile that stared back at him, "what's wrong?"

"Cedric?"

"As I neither live nor breathe," his impish grin drew Kurt in, this was the same way he had smiled at Kurt in the prefect's bathroom as he sung the second clue to him.

"I'm losing my mind," Kurt nodded to himself, "the side-effects of too much dark and obscure magic I wasn't ready for is catching up to me."

"You think this is because of a little shadow travelling and one count of legillimancy?" Cedric chuckled, "you're still some ways from that." The young man, handsome as ever, grabbed Kurt's hand and started a simple waltz with him, "let's dance."

"Why not?" Kurt shrugged, "If not because I've lost my mind, then because I'm being haunted by the love of my life for turning into a harlot after his death."

"Kurt," Cedric smiled at him, "think only of me."

"How can I?" Kurt shook his head, "this is the first time I have seen you in so long, all I can think about is how weak I've been."

Their waltz picked up in pace, "Or are you thinking of him?"

"Him?" Kurt gasped.

"Him," Cedric's voice grew angry, "the one who spoke in soft words and charmed you both before and after me."

Kurt shook his head, "I don't know who you mean."

"Should I wear his face?" Cedric's face melted into that of Terry Boot. Kurt tried to let go but the boy held on tightly, "The boy who declared himself a Hummelsexual, the one you used to make me jealous in life and in death."

"I never-" Kurt began a defence but was cut off by Cedric.

"You never what?" the devilish grin on Terry's face was haunting, "never tried to make me jealous?"

"Of course, I did."

"Or are you claiming that you never used Terry?" Cedric's voice grew darker each time he spoke.

"Not intentionally," Kurt defended himself, "he offered himself to me." Kurt drew a deep breath, "he was intelligent and charming. I had many great conversations with him but he always knew that he wasn't what I wanted."

"Just a passing fancy!"

"There's nothing wrong with that," Kurt sobbed, "he knew we were temporary."

Terry's face hardened, "but did he want that?"

"I was transparent as to what we had," Kurt shook the tears filling his eyes away, "he knew what we were."

"He thought you would grow together."

"I never meant to lead Terry on," Kurt tried to break away from the waltz, "I only enjoyed his company."

Terry held on tighter, "taking his feelings for granted."

"No," Kurt shook his head.

"Did you love him?"

"No."

"Just a toy," he spun Kurt out, and their dance and the face transformed. The face was now Gregory Goyle's and the dance was more tantric, a sultry salsa, "Like the one you lusted after, gave more than you gave me."

"I have never!" Kurt snapped.

"Fine," Gregory's tango was firm and engaging as the larger boy ran his lips over Kurt's body. Cedric's voice still rang true in Kurt's ears, "the one who worshipped at your altered."

"That has nothing to do with anything I ever did!"

"Yes," Gregory locked eyes with him, "he loved you before I knew I did."

"What control did I have over that?"

"You didn't have to give yourself so fully to him," Gregory's avatar countered, "you shouldn't have let him hold you, taste you, desire you." The grin on the Slytherin boy's face grew hungry, "He touched parts of you no one had touched before me."

"Was I supposed to mourn you to my death?"

"You shouldn't have let him believe he could have you as he desired," the voice roared back.

"I led our mutual exploration and directed our boundaries," Kurt explained, "he halted our journey."

"When you betrayed him!"

"When I stood by the convictions and the belief system I had been true to our entire acquaintanceship," Kurt snapped, "The same convictions that had me watch you die."

The dancer let him go and turned back with the face of Noah Puckerman, "the one who never truly wanted you, he only desired what you withheld from me."

Kurt squared his shoulders, "what you wouldn't accept." Kurt closed his eyes, "you cannot blame me for what other people felt when I was honest as to what I could feel."

He squared up with Cedric's Puckerman disguise, "I never pursued you more than you did me." The face turned back to Goyle, "I didn't offer you my virtue, if there is such a thing."

"Why?"

"It wasn't on offer," Kurt pursed his lips, "we had a mutual understanding."

"Mutual?"

"Yes," Kurt had grown bold, "I needed to be touched in your absence, and he desired to have me on his arms."

"You took advantage of his desire for you!"

Kurt shook his head, "I gave him what he wanted."

Gregory melted back into Terry, "What of me?"

Kurt took a deep breath, "you were the last piece in my Cedric jigsaw puzzle, but the use was mutual." Kurt took a deep breath, "from the date when I helped you help your friend up to your self-declaration as a Hummelsexual and your Segway into your bisexuality."

Terry's face began to transform but before Kurt could see who Cedric would become next he covered his eyes, "What of the one you love now?"

"Please," Kurt sobbed, "no more."

A gentle hand laid on his shoulder, "I'm sorry."

"Cedric?" Kurt trepidatiously looked up at his first love's face.

"I'm sorry," he smiled as he often did, "my intention was never to hurt you but I was caught in a cycle of your internalised guilt, I couldn't stop."

"Cedric," Kurt repeated the name to assure himself that he was talking to the first love of his life, "I loved with you with everything I had."

The boy gently caressed his face, "I know."

"I don't know if I have another love on that scale left in me," Kurt shook his head.

"I want you to know," the boy smiled sadly at him, "that loving someone as much or more, doesn't take away from what we had."

"You're just saying that because I created you in my mind."

Cedric chuckled, "you think I crossed the veil to be here and tell you what you want to hear?"

"You're a creation of my imagination," Kurt shook his head, "What other purpose is there for your existence?"

"For you, I have crossed that uncrossable line," Cedric caressed his cheek, "all I've wanted since my death is to give you another chance at love." He was so close that if he'd been breathing, his breath would have been hot on Kurt's face, "This dream might appear haunting, but it is meant to heal that last broken piece of the heart left shattered by my untimely death."

"A dream," Kurt shook his head.

"Well," Cedric smiled sadly, "sweetheart, you don't dream."

"So, this dream isn't mine," Kurt screwed his eyes shut, "and for sure it isn't yours."

"So," Cedric held Kurt's face in his hands, flooding Kurt with calming feelings till his eyes slowly opened, "what is this?"

Kurt was quiet for a few moments, "I don't know."

"Love is the most powerful magic," Cedric explained, "that we know of, that is."

"Why now?"

"Because your love for him and your love for me are powerful enough to pull me across space and between dimensions to tell you to love him harder than you loved me," Cedric grinned, "you broke your curse to have this conversation with me."

"I love you," Kurt stated, his voice matter-of-fact.

"I know," Cedric nodded. He drew a deep breath, "now love yourself and move on fully."

Kurt sobbed as the boy he loved faded away in his arms.

~0~

The five smartest students in Kurt's year stood shoulder to shoulder at the front of the group of NEWT potions students, all eyes were fixed on Professor Slughorn as he stood perfectly still and silent. He checked his watched and smirked before beginning to speak, "Welcome, welcome, welcome."

There was a resounding chuckle that filled the room, the man's eccentricity was made further evident by his campy demeanour. He was 'spirit fingers' or a tongue pop away from a cabaret, "You are the cream of the crop of your year and as such, it is my great pleasure to instruct you in the art of potioneering."

The class applauded as the man's grin grew larger, "in this class we will journey together to discover the properties of many of our potions ingredients and how they react with one another to form the beginnings of brews." Tracey's hand shot up, "Yes, Ms Davis."

"That sounds an awful lot like herbology," her voice was level but there was an iota of fear in her eyes, "I wasn't aware that it was a corequisite."

"Only part of the syllabus will focus on the properties of ingredients," he nodded to himself, a small chuckle escaping his lips, "and only a fraction of that will focus on plants, a third year herbology student possesses the competences necessary to keep speed as we will merely be identifying and studying the properties of the ingredients." The door swung open and the class was interrupted by the arrival of Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.

"The eligible are here," Blaise Zabini snorted.

"Hey," Neville snapped, "I've been here since the beginning of the lesson, I wrote Professor Snape the day our results came out."

"Harry, my boy," the potions master's voice grew more cheerful and his grin wider than Kurt had thought possible, "I was beginning to worry."

"Sorry," Harry blushed, "there was a clerical matter I needed to see to."

"Not to worry," he shook his head enthusiastically, "and you've brought a friend."

"Ron Weasley," the tall boy introduced himself, "I'm rubbish at potions."

"Nonsense," he waved them over to join the group, "there's space in the front."

"Unfortunately not," Hermione shook her head.

Padma mirrored the action, "We're all filled up."

"I'm sure there's something in the back," Mandy shrugged, a malevolent smile spread across her face, "it's not personal, it's academia."

Lisa waved Harry over, but he stopped short and turned to Professor Slughorn, "You see, we haven't got our books…"

"Find something in the cupboard," he turned back to where their group was standing, "now, where was I?"

"You were explaining that a third year Herbology student could follow the portion of the syllabus on plant properties," Mandy volunteered, her smile turning sweet.

"And, lucky for us," Pansy smirked, "Potter and Weasley fit just that description."

"Pansy," Hermione gasped, "Ten points to Slytherin."

Professor Slughorn gaped at them for a moment before finding his composure, "Right, a basic example would be a simple flu remedy; ginger is a diaphoretic, who knows what that means?" A sea of hands shot up, "Mr Longbottom."

"That means that it promotes sweating," he explained.

"Correct," the man nodded, "Lemon detoxifies the body, corrects pH imbalance and provides vitamin C." he explained, "Honey is an antimicrobial. Mix the ingredients together according to the recipe, catalyse with boiling water and you have a remedy for the common cold." Kurt and Tracey raised their hands at the same time, "Ms Davis, then Mr Hummel."

"Will we be learning to create potions of our own?"

"Not at NEWT level," he shook his head, "You will be learning why existing potions have the ingredients they do. To create a potion you need to know what ingredients to add to your brew based on their properties, yes, but-"

"In order to do so, an understanding of the intended result is necessary," Tracey nodded to herself.

"A skill that will be learned in post-secondary education," he agreed, "Mr Hummel?"

"What distinguishes this syllabus from that of alchemy?" Kurt smiled innocently, he was engaging Professor Slughorn despite knowing the answer to the question- a question that anyone who knew the definition of alchemy would know the answer to.

"Excellent question," he nodded vigorously, his jowls shaking as he did so, "Alchemy is an instrument to improve potioneering. Through transmutation we can create the perfect ingredients such as to elevate the quality of our brew beyond the bounds of normal potioneering." He clasped his arms behind his back and moved toward the group, "A fine example would be one that young Harry is familiar with."

"Me?" Harry swallowed loudly.

"The philosopher's stone," Lisa interjected, her hand in his, "the standard cure requires a noble stone, usually Sugilite is used for its healing properties, by substituting the philosopher's stone you end up with a brew that cure any ailment- including death itself."

Kurt started a round of applause, "ten points to Ravenclaw."

"Mr Hummel is correct," Professor Slughorn eyed her suspiciously, "Miss?"

"Turpin," she smiled broadly, "Lisa Turpin."

"Would you and Mr Hummel step forward," he looked about the classroom and pointed to the back, "you." Theodore Knott stepped forward nervously, "I have three potions, each of you will attempt to identify them and share any information you have on the brew, You first, Mister?"

"Knott," he stepped toward the cauldron filled with a milky liquid. He sniffed it and frowned, his brow furrowed, "This is Polyjuice potion; it is tasteless, odourless and harmless until someone's essence is added to it." He stepped toward Tracey and the group watched as he grabbed a single loose hair off her robes, "it then takes on properties that fit the person you will be transforming into."

He added her hair to the potion and the room was filled with the smell of Opium by Yves Saint Laurent, "it is only for human transformations and results in humanoid animal transformations. The time for which the effects will last is determined by the quality of the brew and the ingredients."

"Correct," Professor Slughorn nodded, "Five points to Slytherin." He shut the first cauldron and opened the next, "Mr Hummel."

Kurt walked up to the cauldron and was shocked by the smells that greeted him, a gasp escaped his lips, "no."

"Is there an issue?" Professor Slughorn stepped toward him.

"None," Kurt shook his head, "This is amortantia, a love potion that creates extreme infatuation and in some cases obsession. The brew is not characterised by the properties of the ingredients but is more metaphysical; ingredients that symbolise and are associated with love are used in the brew, like roses and chocolate."

"Very well-"

Kurt stepped closer to the cauldron, "it is said to have been invented by Morgan le Fay, the sister of King Arthur, to bewitch Queen Guenevere into adultery." Kurt took a deep sniff, "it smells very different to each person, according to what attracts them. For example, I smell pine, citrus and… tobacco."

Kurt took a step back to the group, letting out tired sigh as the class applauded, "Very well-done Mr Hummel, ten points to Slytherin." Kurt smiled broadly, his instincts kicking in, "Ms Turpin."

Professor Slughorn opened a cauldron of molten gold, "Felix Felicis, also known as Liquid Luck." She smiled as she spoke, "this potion ensures that all the user's endeavours will succeed, seeming to bend reality in their favour. It is extremely hard to brew correctly and has been likened by some wizards to the muggle drug cocaine; in that it makes one feel invincible, is highly addictive and your body can build up a tolerance to it."

"Well done Ms Turpin," he nodded, "Points have been awarded for your genius already." She gave a polite curtsey, "For today's lesson, I want you all to open your copies of Advanced Potion Making to page ten, I expect each of you to brew a draught of living death. The first student to brew an acceptable draught will receive a vial of Felix Felices."

Kurt's hand shot up, "Professor Slughorn, the mutual understanding between teacher and student with regard to this competition is that none of us have attempted to brew this potion before?"

"Correct."

"Well," Hermione smiled shyly, "two students in this class have attempted this potion under the private tutelage of Professor Snape."

"It simply wouldn't be fair on the rest of us for them to be allowed to participate in this competition," Kurt shook his head, "Would it?"

"Not at all," the man shook his head, "they would have to recuse themselves."

"That would be me," Finn raised his hand.

Padma let out a disappointed sigh, "And me."

"It would not be fair for me to allow you to participate in the competition," the aged professor nodded to himself, "I do, however, expect a brew from each of you."

Hermione, Kurt, Mandy and Tracey exchanged high-fives, "That vial is mine." Tracey licked her lips, "Let's get moving."

They filled up the spaces around a desk right at the front of the classroom and prepared their cauldrons, equipment and ingredients. Hermione peered at him suspiciously, "What was that with the potion earlier?"

"Yes," Mandy grinned broadly as she started working on her brew, "spill."

"There's nothing to tell," Kurt shrugged, "it was just a heady rush from the vapours, I was overwhelmed by the scent."

"Likely story," Tracey chuckled without looking up from her cauldron, "You looked like you'd seen a ghost."

"More like smelled a ghost," Mandy teased.

"True that," Tracey nodded, "So, you can't lie to us, we're your friends." She looked up from her work to stare him down, "Who is he?"

"There is no 'he'," Kurt shook his head as he sprinkled his powdered root of asphodel into his brew.

"Then why did you look like you were going to pass out?"

"I was overwhelmed," Kurt pontificated to drive his point home.

"I've never seen you whelmed, let alone overwhelmed," Mandy shook her head, "I'm not buying it, not renting it, not watching it on basic cable."

"So, I ask again," Tracey worked with precision, "Who is he?"

"You do know that the potion doesn't smell like a person," Kurt's tone was condescending and biting, "it is a combination of smells that entice one to consume the brew."

"Girl, who are you telling?"

Mandy nodded along, "we know that."

"But," Tracey sneered, "The combination of smells might have made you think of someone."

"Someone unexpected," Mandy giggled, biting her lip as she struggled to slice open her sopophorous beans, "And don't be the boy who cried Cedric."

"It's just sad now," Tracey flashed a sad smile, the frustration evident on her face. She seemed to have gotten her beans perfectly placed for slicing when it shot out from under the edge of her blade, she slammed her fist into the remaining beans and their juice sprayed all over their group, "That's one way of doing it."

"I'm impressed," Hermione nodded, turning her blade over on its side to crush the bean.

"You've been quiet," Mandy peered at her suspiciously, "what are your thoughts on this matter?" she crossed her arms and narrowed her gaze, "Or has Kurt told you who the mystery gentleman is?"

"No, I am not in the loop," she shook her head, "you two seemed to have this investigation under control, I want to win." She smiled broadly, "as much fun as it is to exclude Finn from things, I'd hate to have done it without gain."

"Well," Tracey smirked broadly, "It's a feeling you're about to become accustomed to because I'm about to cross the finish line."

"Motherfucker," Hermione hissed, stirring her potion at speed.

"Professor Slughorn," Tracey's hand shot up.

"Yes, Ms Davis?"

"I'm finished," she smiled, "I'm first, these people are also finished but I was first."

He came over to their table, inspected her brew. He sniffed it, held a swatch up to it to check the colour and dropped a single green leaf into the cauldron, it turned autumn brown and flaked into nothing. The man smiled, "This is an acceptable brew, congratulations young lady."

Tracey grinned broadly as she accepted her prize, "Thank you."

The man inspected the rest of their brew and nodded to show his satisfaction. He was then called over by Harry and let out a sigh of delight, "Well, what do we have here Harry?" he put the brew through the same tests as each of their brews had passed, "This brew is perfect, one drop would put as all in an unending sleep."

"Say what now?" they chorused.

"Only once has a student produced a potion such a quality before," he chortled, "this deserves special recognition. Harry, you're a winner."

"Oh, hell no," Kurt huffed under his breath.

"I know," Hermione shook her head.

"I bet if my brew had been perfect, there would have been no second prize," Kurt shook his head, removing his gloves.

"Are those new dragon-hide gloves?"

"Yes," Kurt smiled broadly, "grey, the black was so last season."

"Were they a gift?"

"Girl, no."

I had to kill the Ravenclaw dreams, they were giving too much away (especially when you know what each one means).

Hope you enjoyed it! Reviews are love 3