A/N: Hi guys! Sorry it took a while to get this one out but with school and annoying relatives, you have to forgive me. If my schedule allows, the next idea/one shot is going to be out during weekend.

This idea was sparked by Taylor Swift's 'You belong with me' music video but... the only common theme is the suburban neighbourhood and two friends...

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Ten-year-old Kurt looked on curiously as movers brought furniture and boxes out of the truck and into the house-next-door. It had been sold to an English family of four that was going to move there next week. The house's last owners, an almost eighty years old couple, had died in an accident six months ago. Kurt had liked them a lot, they often invited him over and gave him freshly baked cookies and they had had a dog who played with Kurt. The old woman, Mrs. Locke, had comforted him when his mommy had died and she had been the one to make sure he got something to eat when his dad had tried cooking. Mr. Locke, on the other hand, loved to play the piano and had taught Kurt the basics. He had also been the one who encouraged Kurt to sing, having been a musician on Broadway in his youth. Kurt missed them, not as much as his mommy, but still.

He hoped the children in the family that was moving there were nice and that they would play with him. Other children often teased him because of his clothes or the hat his dad had him wearing because he didn't want him to have sunburns. And Noah Puckerman, the school bully, had made him the daily target for wedgies and dumpster dives...

His dad called him for dinner and Kurt gave the house one last glance before going inside.

Two weeks later:

Kurt was drawing in the shade when he heard footsteps approaching him and looked up. It was the fat boy who moved to the house next-door to his, Dudley Dursley. He scrunched up his nose. While the boy used quality clothes, he couldn't combine them to save his life and on top of that he was rude, bullying and spoiled. Not someone Kurt wanted to be friends with or even be seen in the same company with.

"Wha'cha doin'?"

"Drawing," was the answer in a 'duh' way. "Can't you see?"

"I mean, wha'cha doin' outside the dumpster?" Dursley sneered.

"And I meant that I'm drawing outside the dumpster," Kurt explained like Dursley was an idiot (which he was, but that's beside the point).

"Well, I think it's time for you to go back to the dumpster, don't you?" sniggered Dursley and took a threatening step forward.

"Dudley, why can't you just stay inside?" asked an annoyed voice behind the large boy. "It'd keep the air from ruining and the rest of us happy."

"Shut up, freak," Dursley said loudly, making sure everyone in the park heard him. "No one asked you. Why don't'cha go home to make dinner?"

"Oh? Really creative, Duds, repeat what your mommy said not three weeks ago," ridiculed the interrupter. He was Mrs. Dursley's nephew, Harry Potter, who lived with them since his parents had died and was, from Kurt's perspective, the only decent one of the family even if he wore large hand-me-downs, was scrawny, had large, round glasses and hair that defied gravity every way possible. "Please, spare me, I can feel myself getting stupider just by looking at you. Go inside and blow up some aliens with your computer, after all, it's the only thing you can do, isn't it? And correct you grammar will you? It's "What are you doing" not "Wha'cha doin'" I can't believe I'm related to such an imbecile as you."

Kurt wanted to laugh but he knew that would only draw the attention to himself which he almost desperately wanted to avoid. He couldn't believe Harry had called Dursley an imbecile, it was almost too good to be true. He saw Dursley scowling and felt ice gather in his stomach. Harry was in trouble now.

"You should start runnin' now, freak," Dursley growled and took a step towards Harry, forgetting Kurt totally.

"You wouldn't be able to catch me even if I walked," snorted Harry and dodged the fist that swung his way. "I didn't know you were learning ballet, Dud. If no one has told you this before, I think you should quit, who knows when you fall on someone and kill them."

His comment froze Dursley. "What?"

"Aww, isn't mommy here to translate all the big words for you?" mocked Harry and angled himself so that he could run straight out of the park. "I called you so fat that people would be crushed if you fell on them. On top of that you're stupider than a rock to a boot too."

When he saw Dursley beginning to dawdle towards him, he turned and walked away, just in front of Dursley, just out of his reach. Close enough that Dursley wouldn't lose his interest in beating Harry up but far away enough to be safe from the fists that tried to reach him. Kurt felt guilty for having Harry distract the bully but still he was grateful. He didn't feel like explaining to his dad why his clothes needed to be washed again when they just came from the washing machine, it's not like he climbed trees or rolled in mud like other boys his age. He'd have to thank Harry for that...

Maybe he could make cookies for him? ...no, Dursley (sr. or jr., didn't matter which) would eat them before letting Harry have them (maybe he could poison the cookies then? But then there was the risk that Harry would get them smuggled to his room and eat them...)... Or he could get Harry a book! ...but he didn't know what Harry was interested in... Clothes... were too much like charity... A ball? It'd have to be small so that the Dursleys wouldn't notice it... Invitation to dinner? ...Kurt's dad couldn't make toast without burning it... Maybe he should ask Harry when he next saw him... if he wasn't running away from Dursley...

With that decided, Kurt nodded determinedly and went back to drawing.

Next day:

He looked around the park expectedly and wasn't disappointed when he saw Harry in the swings. He knew Harry was older than himself but when he was dwarfed in the large hand-me-downs he looked several years younger, even if he was taller than most kids his age.

Kurt squared his shoulders, lifted his chin high and began his regal approach. When he reached the swings, he sat to the free one.

"Hi Harry, I'm Kurt," he said and his voice was a little higher than normal because he was so nervous. He smiled at Harry when he turned to look at him with surprise shining n his eyes. "Thanks for distracting your cousin yesterday, I don't know how I would have been able to explain to my dad how my clothes got so dirty."

There was a silence. "You're welcome," the older pre-teen nodded and turned back to look at the ground.

"I wanted to make you cookies as a 'thank you' gift but I thought the Dursleys would probably eat them rather than let you have them," admitted Kurt and pushed the swing a little of the ground. "Then I thought of a book but I don't know what you're interested in. Mt next thought was clothes which are too much like charity... Then I thought I could maybe ask you to have dinner at my house but my dad can't cook at all... Which is when I decided to ask you! What would you like as a 'thank you' gift?"

During his speech Harry had turned to look at him with disbelief before a small smile slipped to his face. "No one's ever thanked me before so that's thanks enough but of you absolutely want to give me a gift, how about we became friends? I don't know anyone here yet so it'd be a relief to have someone to talk to."

"Sure!" Kurt agreed instantly. "I don't have any friends either, but that's because Puck has chosen me as his main victim in school. But I do know that friends know all about each other! So I'll begin! My name is Kurt Elizabeth Hummel and I was born on 15th of May, 1994. My mom died when I was six, dad would say when I was eight. Thing is, she was in coma for two years before her heart failed and I can't call that living..."

"My parents died when I was a little over one year old," Harry said with sympathy filled voice. "That's why I live with the Dursleys. Aunt Petunia says they were driving drunk but I can't bring myself to believe her. Anyway, my whole name is Harry James Potter, I was born 31st of July 1993 so I'll be eleven in two weeks. I guess I like playing Dudley's guitar..."

"I love singing!" Kurt said eagerly. "How well can you play the guitar? Did you teach yourself? Can you sing too? I can play the piano but I can't practice much, only in school during recess."

"Yeah, I taught myself..." a bewildered Harry answered. How else? Could someone teach you to play guitar? "I guess I like singing but I don't think I'm good..."

"Do you think you could come over so that we could practice together?" asked Kurt with and excited gleam in his eyes. "Maybe I could even teach you to play piano! Then we could watch Cats together!"

Harry just nodded mutely and wondered just what he'd signed up for when Kurt jumped from the swing, grabbed Harry's hand and began to drag him away.