Save All Your Kisses
Summary: Harry Potter was sick of it; of the media, of the pitying looks - he was stressed. So, he got a map, and trailed his finger across it with his eyes slammed shut. Wherever his finger landed, he would go - and, opening his eyes, he saw Lima, Ohio. A Muggle town; what about his lack of education? He wasn't sure. He had to admit there was a certain thrill about going in with no real plan; and that's what he did.
AN: Eek, I'm surprised at the response I've gotten for 2,887 words. x'D Two reviews almost instantly, eight favourites and twenty four alerts a day later. Lord help me.
Glee canon has been changed. It's probably around early 2009/2010 and after the Sectionals; Sue has already blackmailed Figgins into returning (roofies yay). Hell-O will be following soon enough, so I don't deviate from the canon too much.
Any critique is absolutely adored (and if you can't tell, I'm writing this after finishing the second chapter and not posting it teehee).
Harry grimaced, brushing his teeth while removing a small package from George's owl. "Thank you," he said to the owl, giving it a shiny golden coin and some water. He enlarged the package and the paper fell away, revealing a clear plastic box filled with brightly wrapped boxes and, on the very top, a box with an image of a phone. The owl let out a screech and flew away.
He opened the box and removed the box with a phone in - Freddie's Calling! It proudly advertised. A magical phone for my littlest brother. The handwriting was clearly Fred's; a lump rose in his throat as more writing appeared below it in George's writing. Harry, Fred was making this for you all through Fourth and Fifth year. Said something about Muggle's using them to reach anyone they wanted, when and wherever they wanted - he thought it'd be useful during the war. He never got around to finishing it, but I've gone through his plans and finished it completely. Now that you're in the Muggle world, you'll have to 'charge' it using your magic; Muggle electricity will make the telephone explode. Quite fun, actually. To bring up 'text messages' or 'phone numbers', just say it and it'll appear.
The writing disappeared as if it had been rubbed away, and new words formed in its place. These are the Muggle-friendly pranking items you've requested, such as the Puking Pastilles and U-No-Poo. Our Muggle items aren't as wicked as I know you enjoy, so I've only packed a few. There's also the Skiving Snackbox, where you have more Puking Pastilles, Nosebleed Nougat and everything else you desire. The writing erased itself again. I know - I know you left for a reason, Harry, but I still need you here. If... wherever you are proves to be a fruitless venture, come back to me. Fred would want you here.
Harry swallowed the lump in his throat and waited for more writing to appear, but the box became silent and erased itself. He opened the box and held the small, white device in his hands; it didn't look like a mobile he'd seen before. It was oval-round, the backing melded to his spidery fingers, and the screen was a muted blue. He tapped the screen with a long, pale finger and the screen lit up, flashing through the colours of the rainbow before settling on a moving picture of Harry and the Weasley family at Bill's wedding. "Contacts." The machine vibrated in his hands and a list of names appeared - Sirius Black, Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, George Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Ron Weasley. "Ring George Weasley."
The phone let out a loud noise, sounding like a contented purr or a growl, and the speakers that Harry couldn't see began to blast out the stereotypical noise of a phone. George answered within two rings, sounding incredibly excited when he said, "It works, right? Even though you're not in the Wizarding World?"
Harry laughed in reply. "Is there any way to make it personal, not blasting out like this?"
"Oh, yes," George sighed contentedly, his voice rich and smooth and not tinny like Harry was expecting. "Just put the phone to your ear and the device will do the rest. How is it? Where you are?"
"It's fine... George, I found Snape." Harry said bluntly, shifting the device up to his ear. "Living, breathing, sneering Severus Snape. Can you believe it?"
George barked out a laugh that gradually became louder and hysterical. "You're lying, right? Snape? Snape?! In the Muggle world?! What do you want me to do? What do I do?"
"George, sweetie, calm down," Harry soothed, wishing that he could see and hug the older boy, his older brother in all but name and blood. "I need you to calm down now. Sit down. Find some parchment and a quill - write a letter to Kingsley and explain that Severus Snape is currently in Muggle Lima, Ohio, America. You cannot mention me. At all. You received an anonymous tip-off from one of your shadier clients. Got that? Don't do anything rash, just calm down."
Harry listened, soft puffs of breath and the scratching of a quill. "Done it," George murmured, suddenly sounding incredibly tired. "Just your luck, isn't it, Harry? Erm - Malfoy! Yes, Malfoy - he wants to," George took a deep breath. "He wants to come stay with you. Not now," he hastened to add, unknowing of the smile on Harry's face. "He has to sort out his father's trial, but he wants to live with you. You have enough rooms, right?"
"What about Muggle education? Blood purity?" He moved the device away from his ear, waving his wand at his wardrobe. A white shirt flew out first, followed by a pair of blue jeans and a dark jacket. "I know he's changed, no matter how much you deny it, but I don't think I could trust him in a backwater place with only myself around."
George sighed again. "You're the one whose friends with him, Harry. And, ultimately, its your house and your decision. He doesn't even know where you are. You don't want him there, he won't be. If you want him there... You're going to have to control his tongue and maybe make him a respectable human being."
"So..." Harry searched for a different topic. "These phones are pretty wicked, aren't they?" George laughed loudly, the sound of a muffled explosion coming through the phone. "I just speak commands, then? Can I not type them or find them or something?"
"Just triple tap the middle of the screen when you use it and a menu will come up for you." Harry stepped into his dragonhide boots after pulling on some sports socks. "Oops - that's not supposed to happen. Bye, Harry! Don't be a stranger! Oh and make sure you don't use the toffee's on Muggles. Maybe Snape instead. I added a little... Zing to them." George ended the call before Harry could even begin to question what he'd done to them, and when he tried to ring back the screen turned an angry read, reading, Forge does not want to speak to Viper.
"Bastard," Harry laughed, waving his hand and his school bag leapt into action, the thin straps seemingly becoming arms and filling the bag full of what he'd need. He dropped the Skiving Snackbox on top and tapped it, stilling the puking boy on front and stopping the gush of blood from oozing from the letter "n". He pulled the drawstring and swung the bag over his shoulder, Apparating to the door and locking up. He placed the tip of his wand on the door knocker and the house faded from view slightly - it was more of a mirage ward than anything else, making it so you believed there was no house there until you knew or were at the very doorstep. Bill's creation.
He swung his bag on the passenger seat of his car and pulled away, hoping to get to the Lima Bean for an Espresso compilation to go. Would they do that? Were they even open? He pursed his lips in thought, before sighing. He had no time anyway - not if Kurt was serious about his hair. Harry hoped he was - he had deliberately left his hair curly and scruffy today; he pushed it back and ruffled it slightly to the side, leaving the lightning bolt scar visible.
He pulled into the car park, realising with a start that Kurt was nowhere to be seen. He searched and searched, but the only thing he could see was Puck standing with the jocks by a dumpster. His blood ran cold when he realised the lid was closed and that was definitely a jacket that Kurt would wear, discarded on the floor next to a bag Harry just knew was Kurt's. Lead settled in his stomach; he grabbed his bag and bolted out of his car, slamming the door closed behind him. Cold fury was on his face - Puck gave him a frown and nodded to the dumpster, his brown eyes dark. "What have you done?" Harry spat, dodging a meaty hand as he shoved the dumpster lid open.
Startled blue eyes gazed back at him - Harry bit his inner cheek, wincing when metallic blood entered his mouth. "Puck - take your little cronies and fuck off." Harry's voice booked no arguments as he stood on his tiptoes and held a hand into the bin. Kurt took his hand, shaking slightly when he saw the smirking jocks and Puck trying to move them, but they weren't moving. "Are you okay, Kurt?" Harry asked, body trembling all over. Kurt thought, for a split second, that Harry was scared - but then he looked him in the face and Kurt was terrified.
Harry was furious, his eyes seemingly glowing in the harsh sunlight and his brows furrowed. "I'm - um, I'm fine, Harry." Kurt absent-mindedly fingered one loose curl of Harry's hair. "It's okay, really."
Harry's eyes darkened and he span around, itching to hex or curse - or hurt the boys sneering in front of him. "Puck!" Harry barked; Puck jumped to attention before he realised what he was doing. "I told you - to fuck off, you fucking imbecile!" Puck blinked and the jocks scattered - gone was the happy-go-lucky, innocent boy he'd seen yesterday. In his place was someone absolutely terrifying - and shit were his eyes glowing? Harry let out a loud snarl and slammed his fist into the bin, breathing heavily. "Sorry, Kurt," Harry hissed through his teeth. "Oh my shit. I even brought hairspray and gel and everything!"
Kurt smiled softly which turned into giggles when Harry turned, a pout on his lips. "It's okay," Kurt waved his hand. "I can still fix your hair... Although I bet you made it so messy on purpose, didn't you?" Harry grinned cheekily, breathing out and the tension seemingly leaving his body. "You really shouldn't swear, you know." Harry gave him a startled look - "You're not wearing your glasses!" Kurt gasped. "I tried to look through them yesterday - you're pretty much blind! How - what?"
"Contact lenses," Harry grinned, wiggling his eyebrows. "Do you like my eyes, Kurt?" Kurt nodded, trying to find a speck of colour that wasn't green in them, but unable to do so. They were emerald. There was no fade of colour, just twinkling emerald - the outer ring was slightly darker, but it was only noticeable if you were looking. It was very nearly a block colour. "Come on, Kurt. You've still got to do my hair, remember?"
Kurt nodded, gulping slightly; he picked up his jacket and bag, lightly spraying himself with a vanilla scented mist. He was inherently glad that it hadn't been raining and everything was all bagged up - it just meant there was an unpleasant smell lingering on his shirt and trousers (which he could easily change). "Right. Ladies toilets - I guess it won't matter if we're five minutes late. We have World History, right?" Harry shrugged. "I think we do. We'll just - I don't have an excuse." Kurt laughed, rolling his shoulders before dragging Harry into the school.
"We could skip." Harry suggested lightly, looking through the corner of his eyes to see Kurt's reaction. The boy pursed his lips in thought, but he seemed open to the idea. "Or... I have some sweets I used to use in England to skive." Harry snickered when Kurt rose a finely sculpted eyebrow, reaching into his bag and removing a Nosebleed Nougat. "This... Will cause a heavy nose bleed." He pulled out the sweet that rectified the effects. "This will stop it. I'll take the sweet, I'll bleed and ruin my lovely clothing, and we have an excuse."
"Are you sure it'll work?" Kurt eyed the sweet dubiously - Harry grinned and unwrapped it, popping the blood-red ball into his mouth and chewing down. Immediately his nose began to tingle and when he scrunched it slightly, a torrent of blood left his nose. Kurt let out a noise of alarm, confusion and disgust. "What the hell do they teach you at boarding schools? Is this an English breakthrough the Americans haven't heard of yet? How does a sweet cause a sudden onslaught of blood? That's real blood, right?"
Harry swallowed the sweet and chewed on the other one, ending the flood of blood. He sniffled slightly, knowing his eyes were watering and his nose was probably a sickly red, holding his hand beneath his nose to stem the flow further. "Is there a bathroom anywhere? This is all a little messy and I've bled on the floor," Harry grinned and showed bloody teeth. Kurt grimaced but couldn't look away. "And on my shirt... Oops."
Kurt finally smiled. "We have World History first; I just checked - I'm pretty sure Noah will be there. Will you be okay?" Kurt asked, taking Harry by his free hand and leading him to the nearest female toilet. Harry looked confused but also amused, so Kurt didn't expand on his bathroom choice. "You looked furious."
Harry sneered instantly. "I am furious. Where does he - who knocked up some blonde chit who was dating another guy who was his best friend - find the balls to throw you in that box of festering rubbish and shite? Because what? You're gay? You tell him he's a Neanderthal? For his own entertainment?" Harry began to rattle off reasons why that made Kurt's head reel - from just two days, really, of knowing Potter Harry Potter, the other boy had revealed things about himself and how others saw him - "Because you're sassy enough to retort? Easy target?" and it revealed startling insight to the inner workings of McKinley, things that Kurt would have never originally considered - "Because you're something different? But these backwards arseholes can get away with pushing a kid into a locker, or covering him in a sickly sweet drink - of course I'm furious!"
"On my behalf, or...?" Kurt asked, honest to goodness curious. He still had his wedding plans in mind; Harry was funny with a rebellious and protective streak, but that he didn't know designers and chose clothes that looked good and mixed designers that shouldn't be mixed - or clothes that his "enemy turned best friend" Draco made him wear really shortened the planning a little.
Harry paused, wiping the last remnants of his nose bleed from his nostrils and giving his nose a firm tweak - Kurt could make out the slightest hints of blushing cheeks through the mirror. "More of a human-moral dilemma, with a side of protective concern-cross-saving people thing for my new friend." Steady green eyes met glasz. "Come on, then. Fix my hair."
"So how did you get so good at fighting?" Kurt asked, combing through the unruly locks with his fingers and lightly tousling it, spraying it. His eye twitched when the hair popped back into place. He tried again, covering his fingers in gel and pulling the hair into place; he sprayed it again with the hair spray and kept his hand in place.
"Erm - I guess it started in primary school. My cousin used to bully me something chronic and when I received my acceptance letter to Hogwarts - the name of my school - " Kurt stifled a chuckle at the name, choosing instead to focus on not tearing the smaller boy's hair out in his frustration. "He was all why can't I go, why does the freak get to go," Kurt stiffened at the word freak. "And he tried to ruin my things for my school, so I punched him. Very nearly broke my fingers... And then I got to Hogwarts and the upper years, especially in Slytherin - "
"Slytherin?" Kurt asked before he could stop himself, letting out a slight squeak of joy when the boy's hair finally stayed where Kurt put it.
"It was a House - like Vincent, Bennett, Wedgewood - we had Gryffindor, my House, Slytherin, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Gryffindor was the House of the Brave, Slytherin the House of the Sly and Cunning, Ravenclaw the House of Intelligence and Hufflepuff - what the hell is a Hufflepuff?" Harry laughed, and Kurt laughed too. "Was the House of the Loyalty. Basically, Gryffindor's were the teachers pets but as thick as shit or painfully clever, Slytherin's were smarmy bastards with too much money and relied on mummy and daddy too much, Ravenclaw's were socially inept with photographic or eidetic memories and Hufflepuff's were the rejects because they lacked any quality other than submissiveness."
"And they put you in these Houses aged eleven, so you could be annoying and brattish to reach those expectations, right?" Kurt sassed - Harry barked a laugh.
"Yeah, pretty much. Anyway, back to the bullying. The upper year Slytherin's were wankers and by the time I was in Second year, it was absolute hell. So I started to go for runs, little things, and before I knew it - well, Fourth year - I was awesome. I don't mean to toot my horn, but I was. They called me the Gryffindor King, between giving me fearful looks and accusing me of insanity."
Kurt snorted through his nose, the sound catching in his throat. He had to cough it away; the innocent grin on Harry's face was worth the current hacking he was doing. "Why did they think you were insane?" Kurt asked after recovering. "Gryffindor King?" Kurt finally cackled, throwing his head back and letting loose. "What did you do - sleep with everyone?"
Harry looked scandalised. "Of course not! I just started a prank war and won it."
"A prank war?" Kurt laughed harder, bending over and placing his hands on his knees. "With who?"
"Mister King..." Harry admitted shyly, shuffling slightly where he stood. "And these two boys who were in Gryffindor with me, Fred and George, and Draco," Here Harry finally laughed. "If you ever meet Draco and he pisses you off, call him a pretty ferret. I guarantee he'll storm off."
"I have to know the story behind that! What do you mean you pranked a teacher - Mr. King?" Kurt looked ready to blow a gasket. "And you wonder why he treated you so poorly?"
"Well, Draco was saying some shit about my parents and being good-for-nothing and made these badges that were horrible, so we stuffed a live ferret down his trousers. His shrieks were music to my ears. And, as for King, he gave as good as he got. It was a little thing - he was the Head of Slytherin - I put honey in the Sitting rooms floors and a tonne of trip wires - someone triggered it and they were covered in feathers and super glue and it was so funny, honestly; and along comes King and he decides that, to get us back, he'll plant stink bombs in front of our dorm opening!" Harry laughed loudly at the memory. "God it was brilliant. For my winning prank against him, I hired someone to follow him around singing badly, like a little Cupid-gram person," Harry smiled fondly at the memory of Dobby, chasing Snape through the school while singing Shut Up and Sleep With Me. "And when he'd finally had enough, he stormed into the Dining Hall and I shot him with a confetti cannon and dyed all of his clothes pink." Harry finished smugly. "I mean, maybe he had me dress up as Doctor Frank-n-Furter in front of the entire school the day after, but that was like a regular excursion for me so it wasn't really a prank. Hell, Fred and George dressed up too, and Draco. We gave everyone a show."
Kurt choked again, blushing madly and looking from right to left, hoping to change the conversation. Harry rose his eyebrow. "What's with that face, Kurt?" Kurt blushed brighter still, ducking his head down. "I was in a production of Rocky Horror when I was at home, Kurt." Harry sighed, ruffling his hair slightly. "Come on, we're five minutes late." He pinched his nose again, leaving it a glowing red and sliding his jacket from his shoulders slightly, leaving the blood on his shirt visible.
Kurt followed behind, unable to look at the other boy. He didn't know why he was suddenly so awkward - drag just wasn't his thing. Sure, he'd worn a corset to school before - he guessed a corset with fishnet stockings and high heels wasn't that bad, right?
Harry sighed and put his hand in his hand, wandlessly summoning the image of Harry and Draco, thrusting it under Kurt's nose. Kurt flushed - he assumed the other boy was Harry's best frenemy, with his platinum blonde hair falling over sultry mercury eyes, the thick body toned and lean in golden booty shorts and nothing else - and Harry was wrapped around him, his eyes lit in happiness, piercing behind thick, dark make up and his lips stretched in a full smile, covered in dark lipstick and lip gloss. Harry wore a dark red corset, glittering with dark jewels, proper with a red feather boa over his shoulders, and Gaga the other boy was painfully beautiful. "It was just a bit of fun, Kurt. I'm not a drag queen on weekends, nor do I partake in cross dressing every alternate day - although honestly I wouldn't see the problem if I was. Besides... Tim Curry was pretty fucking awesome in those fishnet stockings."
Harry sauntered into the room, smiling beatifically. Kurt followed soon behind. "Sorry, sir. Terrible nosebleed - Kurt helped me out."
Mr. Jones gave him a look. The man seemed to know he was lying, despite his bloody shirt and red nose. "Sit, boys," he finally sighed.
Puck perked up at the sight of the two boys, visibly deflating under Harry's harsh glare. The boy pranced over, removing his World History book from his bag and dropping his bag to the floor. Kurt tucked the photograph into his pocket, giving Puck a wan smile, making the bigger boy frown slightly. "I'm sorry," Puck whispered to Harry once the teacher turned around, ranting about some dates Harry cared little for. "I mean - "
"One, Noah, you shouldn't be apologising to me. Two, what are you apologising for? Being caught? If you're sorry for the act, you apologise to Kurt, and you mean it, and you fucking stop it. You tell your little wankers to stop, and you and they fucking stop. Do you understand? If you're sorry for being caught... Go fuck yourself." Harry gave the boy a vicious ultimatum, knowing that if he apologised to Kurt it may be the end of Puck's reputation - but surely he realised reputations meant nothing outside of high school, and yes it was easier for all involved if they didn't make these four or so years living hell. As Harry gazed at the other boy, it began to dawn on him.
Reputations meant everything to the other boy, and he felt more worried than disgusted. "Fine." Puck let out a harsh breath, snapping, "Hummel!" Kurt turned around with a contemptuous sneer on his delicate features; Harry grimaced. "I'm sorry. For everything. I'll stop. I can't say everyone else will stop, but I'll try, okay?"
Kurt smiled softly. "Okay. But don't expect me to forgive you, Puckerman. You've tormented me for too long."
Puck grinned goofily, slapping a meaty hand on Harry's back. "See? Can we be friends again now?" Puck pouted, turning big gooey eyes on Harry and fluttering his eyelashes. "You're awesome, dude. Karofsky has this massive whack-off bruise of his face from where you hit him, and his shoulders are super stiff and he even has a footprint bruise on his back! Hopefully his Hockey buddies will stop bagging on the Football team when he got taken down by you."
Harry gulped. "Oops. I didn't think I was being that rough... He's okay, isn't he? I feel terrible. I emasculated him in front of all his friends," Harry fretted, twisting and folding his hands together. "Nobody's teasing him about it, are they?"
Puck gave him an incredulous look. "He's a douche. Anyone giving him shit - they have my full backing."
Harry rolled his eyes. "You do realise how bad that sounds, right? So what if he's a douche? It doesn't mean people have to treat him like shit as revenge or something - you have to be the bigger man and rise above his childishness - or brutishness, in this case."
"But you twisted both of his arms and had his nose on the floor," Puck said, not understanding. "You didn't rise above it. You hurt him back, didn't you?" Harry pursed his lips, his eyes glinting dangerously. "I'm just saying! You hurt him back. You're not being the bigger man."
"There's a difference between snapping someone out of being a dick, or snapping at someone and encouraging him to be a dick. Yesterday I showed him that he's not all that tough when it's one on one - and he also had the horror and mortification of being smacked down by a short, new gay kid, who also showed him up in P. E. If people continue to ridicule him for it, he'll become a terror until he has everyone in their place - and I know American gun laws are weak, so who's to say he won't hunt me down and shoot me or some shit like that?"
Puck and Kurt gaped in horror. "You can't say things like that!" Puck admonished, checking to make sure nobody was listening. Harry sneered.
"Why not? I'll be honest - country-esque American towns are the worst for raising broken kids who blow their own brains - and those around them - out. Just look at Columbine. Nobody had heard of it until they shot up the school - suddenly it had a place on the map. Have either of you heard of We Need to Talk About Kevin? He was a perfectly normal kid with a few... mummy issues. Potential sociopath. You wouldn't expect it of him, not really. You don't want to add fuel to some kid's fire and have them go bat-shit crazy, do you?"
"You can't... Predict things like that. To use a tragedy like that, or a Lionel Shriver novel... You're a little uninformed," Kurt explained as if Harry was slow. His leash on his hot temper began to shorten. "You can't say that he could shoot up a school - "
Harry thought of an innocent Hufflepuff, aged fifteen, staring him down with a wand directly between his eyes, Avada Kedavra on her lips - all because Harry didn't know her name. Teased, she was. Bullied. And she was all too ready to kill him, to hand Hogwarts over to Voldemort - because someone, somehow had pushed her too far, and her Harry Potter hadn't saved her. "I'm not saying he will! You can't say that he won't!" Harry snapped back. "I'm not predicting jack shit! But you push any kid too far, too much, and they'll snap. Kurt - what would you do if your bullying got worse, hm? Cry? Whine? Hold your head high? Or would you sooner find a knife or some rope and kill yourself, because you can't handle it any more and it'd be a giant fuck you to those who'd hurt you?"
"I would never - " Kurt hissed, the pair of them getting closer until Puck swore he saw lightning or electricity or some shit flying between their eyes. "I'd keep going!"
"But would you?" Harry asked, smirking victoriously when Kurt paled. "Okay, maybe not as drastic as killing yourself - but what if you hurt someone, and you enjoyed it? Or changed schools because you can't cope any more?"
"I think we should stop," Puck interjected firmly. "This is deep shit and it doesn't need discussing. Karofsky is a bastard. He pushes people to those extents, Harry, so stop pitying him or whatever the fuck you're feeling for him. You don't know him - you gave him a cruel awakening, and that's that."
Harry sniffed disdainfully. "I know he's a bastard, Puck, but that doesn't mean you nor Kurt have any right bullying him like he did Kurt. While revenge may be sweet, you will not gain any gratification from it years down the line."
The day, up until lunch time, passed without any major hitch. Harry was frequently arguing with both Puck and Kurt, and the three of them enjoyed the confrontations. It was nice to see Puck and Kurt actually getting along and trying to find common ground, while at the same time bonding with the other two. "Harry, don't you have detention?" Kurt said pointedly but softly.
Puck snickered beside him, "Detention already?" Harry held his hand up for a customary fist touch; Puck obliged happily. "You're one awesome little dude, you know." Harry bolted after ruffling Kurt's hair, sprinting to his detention.
Kurt gave Puck a tiny smile, wondering if he was going to leave now Harry was gone. He was pleasantly surprised when the larger boy threw one meaty arm over his shoulder and led them to the cafeteria, chatting his ear off. "I mean, I never thought you homos would be so awesome, but I swear when you and my boy are going at it, you're awesome. Totally awesome. And I promise, you'll never get bullied again. Not by me or anyone else I can stop, 'kay? I mean, I know you won't forgive me and shit but I really don't care, I'm an ass, you're an ass, we can be asses together."
Kurt smiled warmly, honest-to-goodness touched by Puck's words. "Well, in that case..."
Harry knocked nervously on Snape's door, zipping up his jacket to hide the bloody stain on his collar.
"You're two minutes and forty-seven seconds late, Potter!" Snape roared from inside of the classroom - Harry nearly Apparated away before he realised he was in the Muggle world. "In."
Harry opened the door, peering around nervously. There were four other students sat in there, all staring at him in terror. One of them even mouthed "good luck". Another was bruised and battered - the boy - Karofsky - Harry had brutalised yesterday.
"Hello, sir." Harry greeted, smiling charmingly. "You're looking as dapper as always, although the surly attitude could go." Harry shook his head, smiling warmly.
Snape clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Need I remind you that I'm a teacher, Potter? Your ruggish charm and father's dastardly ways will not schmooze me." Harry, despite his amusement, maintained a straight face.
"Blast. Here I was, hoping you getting me into a corset was a sign of your undying love for me - or maybe a fetish. It was quite comfortable, after all - soft lining. You're so considerate, sir." Snape choked, paling. The students in the room didn't know what to say or do, although Karofsky looked incredibly amused. "I hope you kept those pictures I took for you, sir. Draco was quite adamant that our... precarious situation would tide you over for a couple of years. Or, at least until your penis shot out dust and a sign reading 'bang'."
Snape looked ready to pass out or have an aneurysm - Harry physically gave himself a pat on the back. "He's joking!" Snape finally burst out, the tiniest dusting of pink on his pale cheeks. Harry smirked deviously, swaggering over to the front row and settling down. "Potter - tell them you're joking!"
Harry cackled. "I haven't broke you, have I, dearest God-daddy-dear?" Harry fluttered his dark lashes, lips protruding in a soft pout. "I'm only joking," He rolled his eyes. "Mister King isn't my type."
"Merlin's saggy ball sack, Potter!" Snape roared, his left eye twitching.
"And apparently I'm not your type, either." Harry cocked his head, smirking deviously. "Shame. I know what you have underneath your clothing."
"Sit here for twenty minutes then go!" Snape belted out, storming from the room.
"I definitely broke him." Harry grinned. "All in a days work," He sighed contentedly. "He's so easy to rile up."
The others in detention tried not to listen to him, so he pulled out his cute, round phone and triple tapped on the centre. The phone buzzed to life, lighting up every possible colour imaginable, and a menu listing his options came up. He was tempted to investigate, but instead chose to click "Contacts" and tapped on Draco. "Text" and "Call" came up from selecting that, as well as a picture of Draco as Rocky, smirking as Harry gave him a lap dance. Harry blushed, choosing "Text"; a keyboard came up, as well as a little bubble where he could see his own message.
Hello, Draco. I'm incredibly bored without you, sweetie. There are these two cute Muggle boys I know you'd love - Kurt has an excellent sense of fashion while Puck has the deepest brown eyes you've ever seen. Unfortunately, Puck's straight. However, I'm sure with a little lip gloss, hair toss and hip swing - just how you taught me, sweetie - I can make him swing my way. Kurt's friends aren't brilliant - none of them have even said hello to me today! I also faked a nosebleed to have an excuse to be late. Kurt decided to fix my hair so that I could cuddle him when I want - sadly, he's not you. How is the evidence collation going?
He waited five minutes for Draco's reply.
Hello, Harry. I want to say I'm bored without you, but I'm mostly just horny. Harry blushed again. Puck, hm? From that Muggle play? I have no doubt you can convert him, but maybe you and I should give him a show sometime? What time is it for you? And - well, not brilliant. We need you to testify in court.
I'm sure your hand can satisfy you for another month or so. Have you been reading those books I gave you about Muggle education? I'm looking forward to giving him a show, but it better just be a Rocky Horror themed lap dance or something. Voyeurism isn't one of my kinks, you know? It's lunch time for me. I can do that! You make me the Port keys and give me the date and time of the Hearing, and I'll do that for you no problem.
Yes, I have. I'm pretty sure the 'Founding Fathers' of America were closeted slave owners. I don't know why I can't come out to you now! I'll be fine! And as for a lap dance... We'll have to get re-acquainted first, Potter. Ah - it's tea time in England. The manor has never been so quiet, darling. Well, the Hearing is in two weeks from now, England time. So you should just Floo to the manor in the morning and go from there.
And what the fuck do you mean you weren't into voyeurism?
"Are the twenty minutes up yet?" Harry sighed obnoxiously, tapping out his reply.
Don't say that here. I mentioned school shootings and got my head ripped off. You can come to me, sweetie, when you're not calling people "closeted slave owners". I'll see you then, sweet pea. To me it'll probably be like four in the morning, and to you nine - so don't worry if I want to tear you a new one, okay? And you know voyeurism was your thing. I did it to please you.
And you pleased me so well.
Harry pouted, checking the time on the device. It had been roughly eleven minutes since the detention began, and he was never good at staying in one place. "Karofsky," Harry turned to face the bigger boy, who stiffened and tried to look away. "Mess with me again and I swear, that bruise and your arms will be the last of your worries, all right? And guess what? That extends to Kurt and his little Glee club as well. You're not going to mess with them, do you understand?" Harry spat, inwardly amused when the boy clamped his legs together and nodded, face incredibly pale. "And you know what else you're going to do for me, sweet pea?" Harry cooed. "You're going to try to stop your little fuck-buddies from messing with them too, all right? To the best of your ability. I've grown close to Kurt these past few days - and if you don't want me to hunt you down and rip your dick off, you'll stop."
Karofsky nodded, pale and furious. Just when the little bastard was growing on him - despite being openly gay - with his masturbation jokes and making King storm off in a huff... He pulled this shit! "And if I refuse? Besides the 'ripping my dick off' thing that I know you won't do..."
Harry smiled sweetly. "I don't need to rip your dick off, sweetie. I can get people to do it for me with a swing of my hips and a sultry smile. And you will stop." With that said, he stood and strode out, smiling innocently. It was expected of him to leave Snape's detentions at least five minutes early.
Just threatened a kid - feeling great, I'll be honest. He sent Draco a quick text, entering the Cafeteria and searching the den of angsting, hormonal children he has to call classmates for the only decent people he could find.
Does he deserve it? Draco text back; Harry saw Puck's Mohawk and beefy shoulders and strode over, tapping out his reply.
Bullying Kurt for liking cock. Deserves every piece of shit I throw at him.
I'm pretty sure you contradict all of your tightly upheld morals, Potter.
Sssh. It's okay when I threaten someone, but people can't do it too, just to take the piss. Did that make sense? He slid next to Kurt and beside Puck naturally, tapping his messages away.
"Ooh, who're you texting?" Puck asked, leaning over and pressing himself tightly on Harry's side. "Somebody cute, right?"
Harry beamed, going to contacts and bringing up the picture of Draco and himself. Puck let out a very unmanly squeal. "Wh - what are you doing?! Are you - "
"Lap dance," Harry explained, rolling his eyes at Puck's theatrics. "Look, Kurt, you can even see my bum in this one," Harry gushed, showing the picture to Kurt. Kurt flushed, the colour darkening when Mercedes began to fire off questions to the pair of them. "Sh! Look, I make the perfect Doctor Frank-N-Furter, right? The women's underwear were a little difficult, but I'm pretty sure I look damn fine. Please don't hate me because I liked wearing a corset and heels."
"Don't shush me!" Mercedes gasped, aghast. "You can't act like you own the place here! You're not even in Glee!" Mercedes carried on.
Harry pouted, turning his gaze on her and making her shift but she still continued to speak. When his lower lip began to wobble and eyes began to well up, Kurt intervened with a sharp, "Mercedes! Harry was speaking!" Kurt then turned his body slightly so that Harry could cuddle him, all the way shooting an angry glare at his best friend. Harry was tempted to wink at the girl, but knew it would backfire. "Are you okay? Mr. King didn't give you a hard time, did he?"
Harry looked up, feigning shyness. "Karfosky was in there. I teased King something chronic and told Karofsky to leave you and your little happy club alone. Is that okay?"
Kurt smiled warmly, tightening his grip before releasing the boy. "That's fine. Between you telling Noah off and now David as well, I think McKinley will be a changed place," Kurt joked. He didn't know how to show that this was more than anyone had really attempted to do for him and he was eternally grateful. Maybe he could wear his nicer clothing from now on? "Now, since you have a phone and I have a phone, can I have your number? You agreed to singing lessons!"
"Oh - sure. I don't know my number, but..." He triple tapped his phone and clicked on "Contacts" again.
"You hardly have anyone!" Kurt gasped, ripping the phone from Harry's grasp and pouting when it shut down on him. "Your phone has a brilliant security system." He tried to triple tap like Harry did, and the phone let out a noise that sounded like Harry's giggle. "Is your phone... Mocking me?"
Harry snickered, double tapping the screen and clicking on "Enter contacts". He typed in "Kurt Hummel" and Kurt tapped his number in.
"Add me too!" Puck said, leaning over. Harry rolled his eyes and did the same, Puck reciting his number. "Awesome. Send me a text."
Harry wrote, Hello, my little bitches. x and sent it to the pair. They replied almost instantly, Harry noting that Kurt was respectable and maintained proper English throughout his text - while Puck's made him want to gauge his eyeballs out while hitting the boy with a dictionary. "Awesome! Now I can bug you away from school too," Harry beamed. "And of course we're going to recreate our favourite musicals so I can have a picture with you two like I do Draco!"
"Potter!" Harry let out a yelp, looking upwards into gleaming black eyes. His free hand shot to Kurt's thigh who jumped. "So not only are you late to my detention, you threaten to rip someone's penis off and leave early?!"
Harry snorted a laugh, trying to desperately hide it. "You forgot the shameless flirting and blackmailing, as well."
"Don't back chat - I'm your teacher!" Snape looked terrified as Harry's words dawned on him. "You're Potter's spawn! You just confessed to flirting and blackmailing me!"
"Are you okay, sir?" Harry asked, sweetly concerned. "I'm going to see Draco two weeks today, would you like to come too?"
"Potter's spawn! The mutt's Godson! My Godson!" Snape hissed, trying to make Harry see reason.
The boy sighed and rifled through his phone for compromising images. He found a video that he recognised; he clicked play and held it up to the man, the sound of Harry singing 'Sweet Transvestite' making Snape pale further. "Are you going to hold that against me forever?"
"Well I could have always held myself against you, but you turned me down, sir. I forgive, but I don't forget. You had your chance."
Snape wished the ground would swallow him whole; he stalked away, wishing he had the dramatic robes to match his angered stride.
"Did you - what?" Puck looked at confused faces just like his own. "That happened, right? You just flirted with Mr. King - and he's your Godfather?"
"Gaping doesn't suit you, sweetie." Harry gave him a slight tap on his cheek. "He also made me dress in drag, if it makes you feel any better - or any insight into how Mr. King works."
"I thought you said you couldn't sing." Kurt pouted. "I just heard you nail Tim Curry."
"Oh, I wish I was nailing Tim Curry," the remark slipped past his lips before he could stop himself. Kurt erupted into splutters, torn between laughing or fanning himself. "Would you like to see the video?" Harry asked, excited. "It's not much of a yowling cat bang because I look so pretty!"
Kurt waved his hand, finding a bottle of water and taking a deep gulp. He was pretty sure Potter Harry Potter, the innocent and beautiful boy he'd met in the Lima Bean, was a clever ruse. And that excited Kurt more than he was willing to admit. "Okay, go ahead."
Harry put the phone in front of him, clicking "Play" again. Kurt got an eyeful of Harry strutting down what he assumed to be a long corridor, but was actually the Great Hall. "Your voice is pretty." Kurt told him, tapping the screen and shutting the video off. "A little husky and rough, but I don't think you need any lessons from me. Audition for Glee, instead."
"But that wasn't the bet!" Harry pouted. "I could have crippling stage fright!"
"Hey, Lady Hummel! Don't you dare pressure my boy into something he doesn't want to do!" Santana's voice cut their conversation - the girl leaned down and pressed herself on Harry's back, giving him a hug. "It's okay, sweetie. You don't have to join Glee if you don't want to - its social suicide anyway. If you want, I can ask Coach Sylvester about signing you up for the Cheerios? We need someone with your speed and flexibility - and I think a little testosterone would do the girls good."
"What are the Cheerios?" Harry asked eagerly, twisting to hug the girl back. He heard Kurt's friend Mercedes whisper something and Kurt reply quickly. "Do I get a pretty uniform like yours?"
"The Cheerios are our cheerleading squad." Someone who wasn't Santana answered - Harry turned to face the girl who'd spoken. She was incredibly beautiful, with soft eyes and lovely blonde hair. Her voice was soft and at the same time husky, slightly nasal. "Santana is the new captain."
"You're the one Puck knocked up, right?" Harry asked bluntly. The girl let out a small gasp and began to glower at an innocently smiling Kurt. "Well done," he said to Puck. "Your baby will probably come out with a modelling contract."
Quinn smiled dazzlingly when she realised Harry complimented her. "You could probably replace Heather - she's been putting on too much weight recently. Coach is just begging for a reason to replace her - she just doesn't know it yet. Please be quiet about my baby."
Santana pouted as the attention left her - she hooked one leg over the bench and dropped herself on Harry's lap. "I've done some research sweetie - we have a Cassie Black? Short for Cassiopeia?"
"That sounds promising," Harry beamed. "That part of my family tends to name children after constellations. I'll check my family tree for any Cassiopeia Blacks that migrated to America." He wiggled around slightly so that Santana was comfortable and he had firm seating. "Was she single or married?"
"Single, but she had four kids." Santana leaned on him and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Why are all the good ones homo?"
Harry snorted. "Don't knock it till you try it, princess."
"What's that supposed to mean?" She pulled back, her dark eyes glinting. Harry smiled charmingly, holding his hands up to try to deflect her ire. "Whatever. Join Glee if you want, but you join Glee and Cheerios, okay? I'm not having my new best bitch getting slushied for hanging around with Lady Hummel and becoming Man Hands new toy to sway in the background."
"Well, I'll need to audition for both, won't I? When's Glee?" Harry turned to Kurt.
"We have practice tonight. You can audition then." Kurt looked between both Santana and Harry in ill-concealed annoyance. "I'll meet you at your lesson and walk you to the Choir room - text me where you are." The taller boy stood and stormed away.
"What did I do?" Harry asked Santana and Puck - the pair shrugged.
"I think it was Santana." Quinn interjected, moving around the table to sit on Harry's free side. "You're clinging on Kurt's new toy and calling him your new 'best bitch' - Kurt had him first. But, I guess it's also you, Harry. You're not defending Kurt from being called Lady Hummel."
Unbeknownst to the four, Mercedes had placed her phone - on call with Kurt - to hear the conversation.
Harry pursed his lips. "So I'm not allowed other friends? And I'm not Kurt's new toy, sweetie, we're friends who cuddle. Even if we've only had one cuddle so far."
Kurt listened, sitting on the girls toilet with his knees drawn up to his chest. "Kurt should know that Santana calls him Lady Hummel - how can I defend him from it if he's been called it longer than I've been in America? Couldn't you call him Porcelain or something, though, Santana? Lady Hummel is shitty. Porcelain is soft and pale, like his skin."
"That's so gay," Kurt heard Santana laugh. "I like calling him Lady Hummel. I don't see the problem. If he has a problem, he should tell me."
"I wouldn't tell you if I had a problem with what you call me," Puck muttered, barely audible. "He gets enough shit without you, Tana."
"I'll call him Porcelain, then." Kurt could tell the girl was rolling her eyes and pouting. "The things I'm doing for you, Harry."
"I don't know what you're doing, Harry, but he's been less of a bitch ever since you arrived." Kurt stiffened. Quinn was such a bitch sometimes. "I don't know how you put up with him, I honestly don't."
"And maybe that's why all of your friends ditched you after you fucked your boyfriends best friend and got pregnant." Kurt smiled. "Maybe if you stopped bitching about others and tried to make some friends, sweet cheeks, you wouldn't have this problem."
"I don't know how you, as a new kid, can insult me!"
"He can insult you all he wants, Tubbers. Mess with my boy, mess with me. Mess with my boy's boy, Lady Hummel, mess with me. Get it?"
Kurt heard the sound of scraping - and then clicks as Quinn presumably stormed away. "You should be a little easier on her, you know? She's carrying my baby!"
"And Kurt is quickly becoming one of my best friends, so maybe you should tell your baby-momma to suck it up, Puck."
Mercedes ended the call, leaving Kurt to his thoughts.
His lessons were dull. There was no Snape to tease, no Kurt or Puck to verbally spar with, no Santana to flirt with him and Brittany was still under the impression that he was a wizard. Well, he was, but how did her cat know? He sighed.
The thought of Glee made his stomach turn. He didn't have crippling confidence issues, but his singing was sub-par and he could bet you one hundred pounds that Kurt was some singing God - he didn't want to embarrass himself. Kurt's friend Mercedes seemed to have it in for him, and he didn't really know anyone else. He forgot how much it sucked to be the new kid.
He checked his phone and saw that he had a message - What do you have now? x from Kurt.
I have no idea. The teacher gave us a quiz about celebrities and left - she has bottle blonde hair and a badly contoured nose. I think she's called Miss Smith? x Harry replied.
I know where you are. Wait for me, okay? I can introduce you to Mr. Schue and he can give you an audition. What are you going to sing? x
A Pink song, I guess. Funhouse? x
Funhouse is a good song (despite my personal feelings about Pink)! I don't think Mr. Schue will appreciate it, though. He prefers older songs. x
Ballsing hell. Um - the only old musicians that I know songs from are Tracy Chapman, Alanis Morissette, Morrissey and the Smiths. And the Doors. Help? x
If we go by your Sweet Transvestite, I'd say Morrissey or the Smiths. Jim Morrison is a little too slow for Mr. Schue to be comfortable. Do you know any Bowie? x
I know some of his stuff. The only thing I know word for word is "Magic Dance" from the movie the Labyrinth. x
Okay - Queen? Bohemian Rhapsody? x
I can totally do that! :-D x
Harry triple tapped his phone and saw a box that said, "Music". He clicked it and a small bubble appeared, invisible to those around him. "Queen," he murmured into the speaker. Nobody turned around to face him. He scrolled through the various songs until he found "Bohemian Rhapsody" and played it on low, singing along. Again, nobody turned to face him - the phone had a built-in silencing ward.
The end of the lesson came about fairly quickly - he waited in his seat for everyone to leave before packing his things away, nerves building. He had to sing. In front of people. Who would be judging him. "Are you ready, Harry?"
Harry looked up at Kurt and gave the taller boy a soft smile. "No. I don't have crippling stage fright, but I hate being looked at."
Kurt linked their arms together and walked towards to the choir room. On the way, they passed a dark boy and Karofsky - the pair hissed, "Ladyboy,"at Kurt. The pair ignored Harry.
"Boys!" Harry beamed, twisting from Kurt's grip and striding up behind them. His tone lowered significantly. "Pull that shit again, and you'll find some cocaine in your lockers, or maybe a knife - Hell, why not a gun? And you know what happens when they find hard drugs or weapons in schools, don't you?"
The dark-haired boy gave Karofsky a scathing look - the white boy nodded stiffly and stormed away, the black boy following behind. "Glad we had that chat, lads!" Harry shouted after them mockingly, returning to link arms with Kurt.
"Did you just threaten to plant illegal items on them?" Kurt laughed, his eyes glinting mischievously. "Why had I never thought of doing that?"
"Why don't they listen?" Harry asked in reply, unaware of a blonde women following them. "Honestly. It seems like David doesn't want to fuck any more." He turned to look at the rest of the corridor. "I'll get my people on ripping his dick off."
"Your people?" Kurt snickered; Harry turned around, a devious smile on his lips. "Are you a British Mafia kid?" Kurt recovered, straightening out his hair. "They never stop, Harry. I don't think a few threats from a cocky new kid will do much."
"But I nearly popped his arms from his sockets! I made Puck ran away with some choice words! I'm a badass cocky new kid!" Harry pouted. "My Godfather is a terror! I could have them in detention permanently with five minutes of flirting!"
"I really hope you can't get into the Cheerios," Kurt told him in all seriousness. "Hopefully Coach Sylvester hates Santana's boob job enough to tell her no. The two of you together would probably rule the school in under a day."
"I think you underestimate me, Porcelain."
Kurt let out a frightened squeak - Harry slapped a hand to his heart, sucking in air greedily. "Run along, Porcelain. I need to talk to the Bat's Godson on his own." Kurt was torn between running like a frightened puppy or staying to save Harry, but one snarl fell from Sue's lips and the boy ran away with a scream. "So, you're the Bat's Godson, huh? You don't look like much. Bad Boobjob put in a good word. Be at my office tomorrow, 5 A. M. sharp. Bring two quintuple espressos; one for you, one for me. I'll bring the baby tears as a sweetener. Change into your uniform - I put it in your bag when you had detention."
"But - you weren't there!" Harry squeaked, staring up at Coach Sylvester with wide doe eyes.
"And shave those curls off, for Christ's sake. That dead, beaten black midget Jew didn't have curls, so you can't either. You can't trust a man with curls." With that said, the woman stalked away.
"Can I straighten it instead? I'm pretty sure Jesus had curly hair, especially if he was a black Jew!"
"Permanently! Uniform!"
Harry squeaked again, bolting into the nearest toilet and changing his clothing within the minute. He slipped on the white, knee-high boots with a sensible heel; he had a feeling that Coach Sylvester was fucking with him or assumed he was a drag queen.
He clicked all the way to the choir room, slamming the door open. "Kurt, Kurt Hummel, sweetie, look what she did to me!" he cried, looking around for the taller boy's perfectly styled hair. "Red isn't my colour! I don't know how she knew my measurements - there's even red underpants! I'm pretty sure they're women's!"
Kurt strode over, away from a red-faced Rachel Berry. The taller boy enveloped him in a hug, one hand laying at the base of his neck and the other on the small of his back.
"You should be pleased, Harry," Santana tried to soothe, moving over to them and carding her fingers through his hair. "You're co-head captain with me, sweetie, and you haven't even tried out."
"What about the shoes?" Harry screamed into Kurt's chest; it wasn't legible, but Santana cooed and hugged his back, wrapping her arms around Kurt's shoulders at the same time.
"Coach says if we can do the routine in heels, we can do it in normal pumps a thousand times better. We all have them, sweetie, don't worry your pretty head about it. Yours are smaller than ours, so I think she'll be bumping you up tomorrow afternoon. Your Cheerio uniform screams 'bad bitch' and when it gets out that you're co-head captain, you'll be setting a trend for the boys to wear heels, okay?"
"Erm - guys?" Mr. Schue tried, pleased that someone had stopped Rachel from physically attacking Kurt about his comments, but curious about the new kid having a breakdown. "Can we - are you the kid auditioning?"
Harry shot him a poisonous glare beneath the huddle of arms and Santana's silicon. "Yes, I am." He shook himself, Santana letting go and giving him a tap on his bum, Kurt fixing his hair. "I'll be singing Bohemian Rhapsody."
He shook himself again, cracking his knuckles and wrists, twisting his neck and giving a satisfied moan when his spine popped. "I'll do the first six verses and we can go from there."
Mr. Schue nodded, gulping slightly. If he starts to talk about my hair, Sue Sylvester has managed to hide a son from the world for fifteen years. "Everyone, pay attention! Har - er, yeah, Harry, isn't it? Harry's going to be singing."
Harry grimaced, looking at Puck's amused eyes and Kurt, who was leaning into Santana to tell her to shush. He belted out the words, ending on a mournful, "I sometimes wish I'd never been born at all."
Kurt beamed, clapping loudly. Santana soon followed with a loud catcall, Puck stomping his feet and whistling. "You're being over enthusiastic," Harry muttered, blushing a brilliant red, no doubt clashing with his new uniform. "I was wank, wasn't I?" Harry laughed, shuffling his feet.
"You were brilliant!" Mr. Schue chirped, slapping him firmly on the back. "Welcome to the New Directions!"
"New... Directions?" Harry questioned, looking at Kurt. "Is that serious? Nude Erections?" Kurt snorted, covering it with his hand and crossing his legs. "You're not denying it. I am now officially a Nude Erection. God, I hope Draco doesn't come here..." He sighed, shaking his head. "Why couldn't we be something awesome, like - Phoenix Song or something?"
"Totally gay," Santana interjected, plump lips pulled into a smirk. "Come and sit with auntie Tana," she cooed, patting her lap.
"Can I sleep on your silicon?" Harry joked, bounding over and throwing his legs either side of her waist. "Do you think bugs have ever gotten stuck in his hair?" Santana coughed, nodding in acknowledgement of his joke. "Where's Brittany?"
"She's ill." Santana frowned. "I sent her straight home."
"Harry!" Kurt whined, finally pouting and glaring at Santana. "Sit me meee. I saw you first."
Harry grinned cheekily. "If we're being honest, Kurtiekins, your friends Mercedes and Tina-no-he's-not-my-cousin saw me first. You were just the only one ballsy enough to speak to me."
"Maaaybe, but that makes you mine."
"I think he's mine," Puck grinned, leaning back in his chair and spreading his legs. "I'm the one he flirts with."
"Actually I flirt with Mister King, but whatever floats your boat." Harry pressed a kiss on Santana's nose and wriggled off, moving to sit, bridal style, on Kurt's lap and put his legs on Puck. "You can be my slave, if you want. Draco wasn't a great slave. I think you'd make a perfect sex slave, with your big brown eyes and those arms - "
"Guys!" Mr. Schue shouted, throwing his hands in the air. "Come on! This isn't a - an orgy," His nose crinkled in distaste. "Harry, get your own seat - "
"Oh, shut up, before your hands get stuck in your lard-covered hair," Harry hissed, the remark more scathing than he intended. "There's enough product in it to lather a cake tin."
Kurt burst into giggles, his chest rising and lurching as he tried to restrain himself. Santana and Puck had no such qualms, laughing loudly when Mr. Schue paled - even Quinn laughed.
"Are you related to Sue?" Mr. Schue asked, paling further when Harry beamed in pride. "Because if you are, you're out. That woman is enough; her spawn is too much for me to handle."
"You interrupted us for a reason, sir. What were you saying?" Harry asked sweetly, his mood doing a one-eighty flip.
"I was talking about doing duets. We need something new! Regionals are right around the corner and we need something new. Rachel has suggested we do our expected Journey songs but spice it up for our last number. Now, I'll just put everyone's name in the hat and you'll pull out a name..."
With that said, the man wrote out their names on a paper, including Brittany's, and started with Rachel. She pulled out the name Finn. She smiled dazzlingly at the confused boy. Santana rolled her eyes and leaned in, removing the name Brittany. Tina pulled out the name Artie. Harry fished around, using a wandless summoning charm to remove Kurt's name. Kurt let out a squeal and hugged him, bouncing up and down. Puck removed the name Quinn, but at that point Harry stopped paying attention.
"Now, the song has to be about love - any type of love, like unacquainted or overwhelming love, but only love. Not lust," He gave Puck a pointed glance. "It will be the song, if you're chosen, that we sing at Regionals. Everyone will have a part in the song but the duet will get the focal attention. You have until Thursday."
Kurt tightened his arms around Harry, his breath soft in his ear. "We won't get chosen." The taller boy relaxed his grip slightly - Harry relaxed too, leaning in to his body. "I'm pretty sure he did this on purpose."
"Why won't we get chosen?" Harry asked, equally as quiet - he could see Santana leaning in to them to eavesdrop.
"Because you're with me. We're both men, having to sing a song about love. In this town... We'd lose straight away. We wouldn't be chosen because we'd be singing a love song and we're both men." Kurt looked ready to cry, blinking blue eyes looking down at him. "You might have stood a chance if you were singing with Santana or something, but because you're with me..."
"Hey, hey... Calm down. He didn't say it had to be lover-love, you know? It could be family love, it could be animal love - we could do Pink's Who Knew, or Christina Aguilera's Hurt, or something like that!" Harry looked up, smiling warmly. "I don't think my vocals are strong enough for the good old X-tina, but we could definitely give her a go, right?"
"Christina it is," Kurt beamed. "I can handle her notes fine... And rub Rachel's nose in my higher notes as well."
"What higher notes?" Santana asked, cocking her head. "Didn't you blow the high F when you and Man Hands went at Defying Gravity? Your voice cracked."
Kurt flushed. "I blew it purposefully," he admitted shyly. "I can hit a high F in my sleep. My dad had gotten a 'your son is a fag' call before I could intercept it - I thought singing a girl song would be the worst thing to do. I don't want him to experience that."
"That's bullshit," Santana sneered. "Your dad would get over the calls. I don't know why you're letting these shit heads get you down. Four, five years time? They're still gonna' be here, with babies they don't want, while you're going to be strutting it down runways or belting your lungs out on Broadway - and they're going to be forever stuck as a Lima Loser."
Kurt smiled, touched. "Thanks, Santana."
She nodded stiffly in reply, turning to the front of the room.