13:57
A/N: Thanks for the reviews, favorites, alerts, etc. As always, your awe and thanks keeps me going! ;)
Kurt wasn't entirely sure what he thought about the Beauxbatons girls. They were. . .different, that was for certain. Once he got over their mind-numbing beauty ( which didn't take long, because, hello, gay) they didn't turn out to be so different from any of the girls at Hogwarts. Shallow, superficial, and totally boy crazy.
Rachel, of course, absolutely hated them. As Quinn Fabray and Santana Lopez had made fast friends with most of the Slytherins (particularly the Slytherin boys) she had taken to sitting more and more often at the Gryffindor table.
"Look at them," she seethed. "It's so disgusting. They think that just because they're pretty they can get anything that they want."
"Well," Mercedes mused, "they kind of can."
"Whatever." Rachel flipped her long, dark hair over one shoulder. "I can brew an amortentia potion as good as any of them. And I am certain that I'm a better singer."
"I don't get what you're so upset about. What did any of them do to you?"
Kurt kind of dazed off while the two girls bitched back and forth at one another. He was pretty sure that he knew what had Rachel's panties in a snit, and it had absolutely nothing to do with magical (or vocal) prowess. It had, he suspected, much more to do with his massive oaf of a stepbrother.
The Beauxbatons girls might be sitting at the Slytherin table, but they spent most of every meal glancing over at the Hufflepuffs. Glancing at three of them in particular. Kurt didn't think even that would get Rachel so worked up, except that the boys were very obviously flirting back. Or attempting to. Sam's attempts at flirtation seemed to consist almost entirely of flipping his hair back, and shooting high fives. Of course, his dorky moves looked positively suave beside Finn. For whatever reason, the tall boy had decided that the best way to a girls heart was to chug massive amounts of chocolate milk, to the point where it would run down from the corners of his mouth and stain his t-shirt.
Pathetic.
Blaine, at least, was playing it moderately cool. He'd glance at the girls every once in a while, throw a wink or two, but for the most part he just talked to the other kids at his table. Every now and again he would meet Kurt's gaze and shrug his shoulders, as if to go "why am I friends with these buffoons?"
"She's not even that pretty," Rachel fumed. Mercedes rolled her eyes.
"Do we really have to listen to this again?"
Kurt sighed. It had only been a week since the exchange students had arrived, and he was already sick and tired of listening to his two best friends rag on one another. He was fortunately saved, at least for the moment, by the arrival of mail.
Mercedes new owl cooed pleasantly at her, before dropping a small, pink envelope in front of her. Rachel's gay dads (and their appropriately flamboyant parrot) dropped off a packet of float lozenges. Pavarotti, meanwhile, pathetically hobbled down the table, dragging the Daily Prophet behind him.
"Oh, you poor darling," Kurt cooed as his canary practically collapsed in front of him. "Such a big newspaper for such a little bird."
Rachel and Mercedes were both staring at him with horror on their faces. He ignored them, pet Pavarotti on the head, and coolly opened the paper.
And promptly dropped it, nearly killing his beloved bird.
"Oh. . .my. . .Dumbledore!" he gasped, pointing at the front page article. "Did you know this? Mercedes. . .did you know this?"
"Know what?" the girl leaned forward, trying to desperately see the page. "Kurt, move your hand, I can't see."
But Kurt couldn't move his hand, because this was going to be the single most epic year ever. In one week he'd kissed Blaine Anderson (sure, he didn't remember it, but it had happened!), met Jesse st. James (even if he still hadn't gotten the courage to say a word to him), beat Rachel at the newest spell in Magical Lyricism (that's right, Kurt Hummel could now change the color of his eyes solely by humming a song by Mika) and now, most amazing of all, Blais Zambini was coming to Hogwarts.
Blais Zambini. The greatest wizard designer of the past decade, was coming to Hogwarts.
Xxx
For the first time all year, Kurt wasn't excited to go to Magical Lyricism. Not that he didn't like the class, but the Champions were going to be announced at dinner, and Blais Zambini, according to the Daily Prophet, was going to be the one doing the announcing.
Kurt had idolized the wizard since he was young. He owned twenty different pairs of shoes by the designer, and he would kill to wear one of his dress robes to the Yule Ball. He was almost considering putting his name into the Goblet of Fire, just because it meant that he would get to have dinner with the famous designer. But, then again, it also potentially meant being burnt by a dragon, drowned by a mermaid, impaled by a unicorn, or any other number of unappealing options. So. . .perhaps he wouldn't.
"Hey, Kurt, what's up?" Finn asked, sitting down with a heavy plomp beside his brother.
"Um. . .nothing," Kurt said, a bit distrustfully. It wasn't like Finn tried to avoid him at school, but he definitely didn't usually seek him out for conversation. Especially when Sam and Blaine were around (which they currently were).
"Right, so. . .you hang out with Rachel a lot, right?"
"I suppose so. . ."
"And she's a Slytherin, right?"
"Indubitably."
"And the Beauxbatons girls usually sit at the Slytherin table, right?"
"Finn, as much as I enjoy the pleasure of your conversation, does this line of questioning have a point?
Finn blushed a little at that, and rubbed nervously at his head. "Could you talk to her and see if she likes me?"
Kurt sighed and rolled his eyes simultaneously. Behind Finn, Sam and Blaine tried unsuccessfully to cover their broad smiles. Kurt was about to refuse, when the far door to the choir room opened, and Professor Schuester walked in, followed closely behind by four people.
"Hey, gang," he said enthusiastically. "We have four new members who will be joining us today. May I introduce to you Quinn Fabray, Santana Lopez, and Brittany Pierce of Beauxbatons, and Jesse st. James of Durmstrang?"
"Oh my Dumbledore," Kurt whispered, fanning himself a little. Jesse st. James was in the same room. Jesse freaking st. James was going to sing to him. This was too much. Next to him, an equally excited Mercedes reached out and grabbed his hand.
"Hi!" Kurt squeaked out, instantly turning red when everyone's gaze swiveled to look at him. Sam snorted, and Blaine just smiled indulgently. Kurt kind of wished he were dead.
The new students sat down, and Kurt suddenly remembered Finn's request.
"Hi," he said, sticking his hand out. "My name's Kurt Hummel. I was wondering what your thoughts are on Finn Hudson."
Quinn raised one perfectly shaped eyebrow, and looked over her shoulder at Finn. "I think he's pretty cute," she said coyly. Kurt grinned.
"Finn," he said, ignoring the way that his stepbrother was frantically waving him off. "She said she thinks your kind of cute."
"Thanks, Kurt!" Sam said, giving a thumbs up. Blaine thumped his friend on the shoulder, and turned to grin at Quinn.
"He thinks you're pretty cute, too," he said. For some reason, by the end of that sentence he was looking at Kurt. Probably just a trick of the light, Kurt thought. Or the angle. Or. . .maybe he was looking at Jesse st. James.
Who was sitting.
Right.
Next.
To.
Kurt.
He thought he might hyperventilate.
"So today, I thought we would begin with. . ." Professor Schuester began, but was promptly cut off as Jesse st. James raised his hand. "Uh. . .yes, Jesse?"
"I thought that perhaps, as a welcome to the group, I might teach all of you a technique that I have learned," Jesse said with a smug expression on his face. "It's a way to put a love spell on people using only your voice."
Well, that was a little ironic. Kurt couldn't quite keep the giggle from escaping. Across the way, he saw that Blaine was sitting up straight, a broad grin across his face.
"Not again!" Finn yelled, blushing a little when everyone turned to look at him.
"One make-out, punch, fainting spell is enough, thank you very much," Rachel said primly. Blaine smirked a little more.
"I don't know," he said. "Jesse looks like a pretty good kisser."
Kurt's mouth fell open, and he instantly turned to Mercedes, mouthing "gay?" She just shrugged, looking at lost as he undoubtedly did. Jesse, meanwhile, just looked mildly confused.
"We covered love songs last week," Professor Schuester tried to explain. "It turns out that we have a lot of talent in this room."
Blaine just shrugged, all "aw, shucks." Jesse looked pissed. Quinn, meanwhile, crossed her legs daintily and raised one hand.
"Have you covered glamours yet?" she asked. Kurt instantly sat up straighter, because that sounded totally interesting. Out the corner of his eye, he saw the rest of the class looking equally interested, except for Jesse, who just looked pissed.
"Um, no. . ."
"I think that glamours would make for an excellent lesson," Rachel said. "I, for one, would love to learn to use my voice to influence the way externalities view me."
"Well, all right then," Quinn said, standing up, and gesturing to the other two Beauxbatons girls. "If you two wouldn't mind assisting me."
All three girls stood in front of them. Kurt noticed that Santana had their pinkies linked behind Quinn's back, and were shooting each other flirty looks. His grin widened a little. Looked like he wouldn't be the only out teen at school for long.
Then Quinn started to sing.
"She was a-seaside sitting'
Just a-smokin' and a-drinkin' on ringside
On top of the world oh yeah
She her drink in her hand
She had her toes in the sand and whoa!
What a beautiful girl, ah yeah
What a sweet talkin' honey with a little bit o'money
She turn your head around
Creature from the sea with the looks to me
Like she like to fool around"
Quinn's voice was. . .okay. It was high, a little thin, and breathy. She was no Rachel Berry, that was for sure. But as she swayed from side to side, with the girls behind her throwing in little doo-wops and she-bops she seemed to. . .glisten. Her eyes shone green, and her skin was freakin' flawless.
Kurt was a little jealous. Even more jealous as he noticed the boys' eyes widening, as he noticed Mercedes sitting back with the dejected slump she got whenever she was feeling overshadowed. Rachel, meanwhile, was nodding her head approvingly and jotting down little notes.
Suddenly Blaine jumped up to join the girls, a look of intense concentration on his face.
"What a snappy ittle mammy gonna keep a pappy happy
And accompany me, to the ends of the earth, ah yeah
That's what I said"
Blaine was a very talented singer, and he'd always been the top of the class in Musical Lyricism, but Kurt had to say, maybe this wasn't his lesson. Because as the girls continued to sing, and their beauty continued to shine out, Blaine just looked the same as he concentrated on the emotions and the words.
Which, granted, meant that he looked amazing with those melting hazel eyes, that charming smile, those slicked-back curls that Kurt just wanted to run his fingers through. And sure, he had a rocking body, and he absolutely shone when he sang, all masculine beauty and restrained sensuality.
But really, he just looked the same to Kurt as ever.
Except. . .to his side he noticed that Rachel was scribbling even more furiously, and Mercedes had jerked up from her slump a bit. She cocked her head curiously.
And Santana was eying up Blaine, too, so maybe there was something going on. Kurt just didn't see it.
And then Jesse st. James, clearly irritated at not being the center of attention, stood up and started to sing.
"Here I am, ain't no man of the world, no
All I need is a beautiful girl
Ah yeah, beautiful girls
Come here, honey. Come here, come here."
Jesse blew everyone out of the world. His voice was perfection, and as he started to twine it around with music he shone like the sun. Kurt could barely even see Quinn, standing somewhere behind him, and the other two gils had disappeared entirely. He actually had to shade his eyes when trying to look at Jesse.
He could still see Blaine, but that was probably only because he was standing to close to Kurt's seat.
When the music stopped, all five performers stood for a moment up there, chests heaving. Until, with one movement, Finn, Sam, and Rachel leapt to their feet, clapping vigorously. Kurt just glanced over at Mercedes, pleased to see that her face looked as blown away as his own.
"That song was awesome," Finn practically exploded. "Rocking!"
Quinn just grinned and sat down demurely. "Glad that you liked it," she murmured.
"That was so interesting," Rachel breathed. "Oh, I can't wait to try that out. My hairbrush won't know what hit it!"
xxx
Kurt was looking forward to tea time. It was one of the most relaxing times at Hogwarts, due almost entirely to the fact that nobody knew about it, other than himself, Mercedes, Rose Weasley, and Scorpius Malfoy. It was a moment to get away from everyone who always had to be so loud, screaming to be heard.
And, yeah, sometimes Kurt enjoyed being hurt, but he also enjoyed his tea time. Plus, the biscotti were tiny enough that he didn't have to worry about his figure, and the rose tea was absolutely divine.
Unfortunately, that day the Beauxbatons girls followed him down. No matter how he and Mercedes ducked and dived, they unerringly followed him in.
"Oh, is it dinner time already?" Brittany asked, when Kurt finally gave up and they walked into the Great Hall.
"No," Rose said, curly red hair tied back with a ribbon and her arms full of books, as per usual. "It's tea time, of course." She sniffed at Kurt. "Haven't you any manners at all? But I suppose I shouldn't expect it. You're a Gryffindor."
"Your brother's in Gryffindor," Mercedes pointed out.
"My point exactly."
"I'm rather surprised that Hogwarts would have something as civilized as tea," Quinn said, sweeping her skirt behind her as she sat, ankles perfectly crossed.
"I'm surprised we're not just eating bangers and mash," Santana said. "Pleased, but surprised."
Kurt just grunted, because he didn't really know what else to say. Mercedes, meanwhile, was just staring at the girls with something akin to awe.
"You're a really great singer," she finally whispered. Her skin was too dark to blush properly, but Kurt was pretty sure that he still saw a red tinge spread across her face. Santana snorted, but Quinn just smiled.
"Thanks," she said. "But I know my singing's not that great. Luckily, with a little magic behind it, nobody notices."
Mercedes just continued to nod along blankly, and Kurt had to wonder if maybe the glamour hadn't worn off her yet.
"It was an interesting spell," he admitted. "Though, admittedly, I play for the opposite team, even I found you three ladies moderately more attractive."
"What team do you play for?" Brittany asked innocently. Santana snorted again. Kurt ignored her.
"What I found really interesting, though, was the way that the spell didn't seem to work for Blaine. Usually he's so talented in. . ." his words drifted off as he noticed all four of the girls glaring at him. "Um. . .excuse me? Do I have something on my face?"
"Nothing, just. . .he was really good," Mercedes said delicately. "Not as good as Jesse, obviously, but he doesn't have as much practice. He seemed about a foot taller when he was singing."
"His arms were pratically tearing through his shirt," Quinn said dreamily.
"And what a package he carries. . ." Santana agreed.
"I wanted to pet his moustache," Brittany finished.
"Right. . ." Kurt just shrugged. He hadn't noticed any of those. . .unique attributes. Maybe they'd all just gone crazy. It wouldn't be the first time that his mind track and girl track were off. Not that it happened often, but it wasn't completely unheard of.
The house-elves were just coming in with the tea when Sam barreled in. His eyes widened a little when he noticed Kurt and Mercedes, but he wasn't deterred from his evident purpose – the Beauxbatons girls. He hurried over to them, extending one hand chivalrously.
"Hogwarts would like to cordially invite you three to the first informal training match of the season," he said. They looked at him blankly. "Quidditch?" he said, a little uncertainly.
"Oh!" Mercedes mouth broke into a wide grin. She, unlike Kurt, absolutely adored the ridiculous wizarding sport, but then, she'd grown up in a world of wizards and bludgeors, so perhaps it was only to be expected. She instantly stood up, tugging at Kurt's arms. "We have to go! Come on!"
"Oh," Quinn said slowly. "are you two going?"
"I suppose so," Kurt said dubiously. "We love Quidditch."
Sam raised one eyebrow, and Kurt realized that he would have to amend that statement.
"Well, Mercedes loves Quidditch. I love scarves."
"Me, too!" Brittany said, hopping to her feet. "I like sparkly ones the best."
"I'm partial to a little sparkle," Kurt agreed. He was surprised when she linked her arm through his, and then took his hand with a little gasp.
"Your hands are so soft! Like a baby's!"
"My secret. . ." he leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Duck fat." Brittany nodded solemnly. She turned around to face the two other girls and quite seriously said "Quack."
In the end they all ended up heading to the pitch, though Sam had to run off to change into his gear. While Quinn was asking polite questions about sporting events at school, Santana only wanted to hear about the uniforms.
"So what do they wear under the robes?" she asked Mercedes.
"Um. . .just a normal jumper. . ."
"And what do they wear under the jumper?"
"Uh. . .I don't really know. . ."
The stands were completely empty when they arrived.
"Are your sporting events always so well attended?" Quinn asked. Kurt was beginning to wonder if her eyebrow was just permanently raised in that expression of derision. But he swallowed down his biting comment and just shook his head.
"It's just a practice," he explained. "I'm sure Sam just invited you so he and Finn could show off."
In all honesty, Kurt was a little curious himself. As far as he knew, the teams hadn't even begun try-outs, and he'd thought that Quidditch was postponed for the Tournament. Still, he felt nice and cozy bundled up between Mercedes and Brittany, with the warm sun beaming down on him. He lifted his face toward the sky, closed his eyes, and hummed a little.
He heard the teams entering the pitch: heard Finn's booming laughter, Sam doing one of his horrible impersonations. He was pretty sure that he heard Mike, Artie, and James, too. They'd probably just gathered all of the upperclass boys who played. With all four houses combined, it was probably enough for a team.
He knew the instant that the game started, because Brittany jumped up from her seat and darted away. Kurt just sighed, and kept his eyes closed. He didn't really appreciate the whizzing of the brooms, or watching his brother hurl massive, rock-sized balls at other boys. Mercedes was clapping beside him. When a warm weight settled down, he assumed it was Brittany, and let his head slide over to settle on her shoulder.
Well, that was odd. He could have sworn that she was taller.
"Don't slouch, boo," he said sleepily. "You're not a very good headrest when you're so low."
The body beneath his cheek shook with laughter, deep and rolling. Kurt's breath caught in his throat. No girl laughed like that. Even worse, he was certain that he knew that laugh.
He jerked back up. He could feel how bright red his face was, could feel the way the flush extended down the back of his neck.
"Sorry," Blaine said with a shrug, his eyes dancing with merriment. "I wish I could grow a foot, too."
"B-Blaine," Kurt stammered. "Sorry. I assumed you were Brit."
"S'not a problem," Blaine said with a wink. He directed his gaze back toward the game. "Didn't know you were a big sports fan," he said.
"I'm not," Kurt admitted. "But the girls wanted to come out, and I'll never turn down the opportunity to break out the fall scarves." He gave his own a little twitch, to illustrate. That made Blaine laugh again, which made a warm feeling settle in the bottom of Kurt's belly.
They sat together for a good hour, Blaine clapping and shouting encouragement to the boys playing. Kurt had been right. . .the two teams were composed of a smattering of players from all four Houses. He was a little surprised to see Rachel out there, but then he thought about it, and realized that he wasn't surprised at all. There were two boys that he didn't recognize for a long moment, before placing their faces as the two hulks from Durmstrang. They were Beaters. Predictable.
"You certainly seem to know a lot about the game," Kurt commented. Blaine nodded.
"I love sports," he said. Kurt put another mark in the "straight" category of the chart that he kept in his head.
"Surprised you aren't out there yourself."
Blaine shrugged a little self-deprecating. "I'm not very good," he admitted. "Too short. Skinny. Plus, I have a horrible fear of heights."
Beside him, Mercedes snorted. Kurt just raised one eyebrow. It was very hard ot believe that Blaine Anderson had any fears at all. Hard to believe that there wasn anything that he didn't naturally excelled at.
"It's true!" Blaine said, raising his arms. "Absolutely terrify me. That's the main reason I'm not taking Divination this year."
"That and the fact that it sucks," Mercedes pointed out. Blaine laughed.
"Yeah," he agreed. "That, too."
Kurt was about to throw in a witty rejoinder of his own, when Brittany suddenly screamed. Kurt glanced back out at the pitch, only to see Rachel plummeting toward the ground. He leapt to his feet. Yeah, Rachel could be an annoying, self-centered, conceited diva, but she was still one of his best friends, and he hardly wanted to see her smushed up against the green of a Quidditch lawn.
Well. . .at least not today.
Finn was chasing after her, which should have been a relief, because Finn loved riding his broom, and did it every instant he had. He should be a better flyer than Rachel, a faster one. He should be able to scoop her up and save (and oh, wouldn't little Rachel Berry love to be rescued by her knight in shining Finn). He should have, but Rachel was only a few yards from the ground, and Finn was still well above her. . .
When Rachel abruptly lifted her hand toward the sky and trilled "I got it!"
Unfortunately, although Finn was pretty good at gaining velocity, he'd never quite mastered the skill of braking. He tumbled off the broom, knocking Rachel to the ground along with it. Kurt vaulted over the edge of the spectator's area, muttering a quick Levicorpus to keep him from falling to his death, and rushed over to them. His stepbrother and dearest frenemy were a tangle of limbs on the ground, but they both seemed unharmed.
"Are you insane?" Finn roared, pulling himself off the tiny brunette. "You could have killed yourself!"
Rachel just grinned brightly, and held out her hand for inspection. "But I caught it!" she said triumphantly. "I caught that Snatch!"
"Holy crow!" Sam skidded to a stop beside them, and plucked the small, buzzing ball out of Finn's hand. "You have got to play for us next year!"
"Not a Hufflepuff, sorry," Rachel said, still buzzing with excitement. She turned to Kurt, and flung her arms around his neck. "See, Hummel. . .told you I'm a star!"
A/N: Oh, Rachel. So clueless. Sorry, meanwhile, I really thought that I'd get to the naming of the Champions in this chapter, but it just kept going and going, and Kurt and Blaine were being so cute that I didn't want to interrupt them.
Hmm. . .why was Kurt unaffected by Blaine's glamour? Any guesses?
COMING SOON: The Champions are named! Karofsky has a secret! Rachel gets jealous! Jesse has a secret motive! And Blaine is probably, definitely, maybe gay! That's right, my friends. Next chapter begins the greatest crack!ship of all time. . .St. Blaintanofsky! BWA HA HA HAHA.
No, just kidding. Just Blaintana. And Blainofsky. But could there be. . .some St. Hummel action coming at you? Why yes. . .why yes I think there might.