13:57
A/N: A little bit shorter, but I did warn you, it's really just the conclusion of yesterday's.
Rachel was glaring across the Great Hall with a look of intense concentration. Kurt was secretly glad that they hadn't learned wandless magic yet, because he was pretty sure that if they had, Quinn would be nothing more than a smoking pile of ash. Rachel sighed, and clenched her hands into a fist.
"I don't get it," she seethed. "She. . .He. . .I caught the Snutch! Didn't you guys see me? I caught it! Not that stupid, blonde Barbie." She pounded her hand on the table. Kurt winced at the sound, and gingerly patted her hand.
"Yes, darling, we all saw it," he said.
Rachel resumed her glaring, and Kurt just exchanged a look with Mercedes. If Finn didn't get up and return to his table soon, they'd be stuck listening to the tirade all dinner long. And really, it had just been too long of a day to deal with all of Rachel's histrionics.
"Rachel, boo," Mercedes said gently, "he's sitting over at the Slytherin table. You could just join them, you know."
"Please, Mercedes," Rachel said, dropping into a lecturing tone, "I can't be seen as being desperate. That would undo all of the hard work I've put in."
Kurt had no idea what she was talking about. Not that he cared all that much, as Jesse st. James walked into the Hall. He stood for a moment, his two goons behind him. One of them – the bigger one – leaned down and whispered in Jesse's ear. The rock star laughed uproariously at whatever was said, before leading them over to the Ravenclaw table. Kurt released a breath he hadn't even been aware of holding. Maybe next meal.
"It's just. . .grrr." Rachel thumped her head into the table. "I can't wait until I get to sing a love spell to him. Then he'll get it. Stupid Finn Hudson."
Kurt sighed, but he figured that Stupid Finn Hudson must have known something he didn't, because Stupid Finn Hudson was talking to a cool, collected young woman, while Smart Kurt Hummel was stuck awkwardly patting Rachel's back.
Meanwhile, he just really, really wanted to see Blais Zabini. He didn't necessarily care about the choosing of the Champions. . .he just assumed that James would represent Hogwarts. He was, after all, the son of the famous Harry Potter. He had the charm, and the good looks, anyway, so it would be okay. Or maybe Sam, who was the star of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, or little Sunshine Corazon, or one of the many, many Slytherins he'd seen put a slip in. Mostly he just wanted to see his idol.
Dumbledore, he wanted to see what Blais was wearing. Because he would definitely change up his outfit to coordinate. Or match. Or completely emulate. One of the three.
Figgins evidently, saw no need to draw out the suspense, which was not particularly surprising. He'd never been very good at theatricality, Kurt thought critically. The minute their headmaster stepped up he straightened himself, craning around, searching for any glimpse of the famous fashion design.
Figgins cleared his throat. Still no sign of Blais.
"A few announcements. Nearly Headless Neck is now Completely Headless Nick. Will whichever Weasley stole his head kindly return it? Thank you. Also, cease teaching the Fat Lady songs by Celine Dion. Now then, I would like to introduce to all of you to Blais Zabini."
Kurt was on his feet instantly, clapping as enthusiastically as possible. Meanwhile, the rest of the Great Hall was silent, with the exception of Hugo Weasley protesting "it wasn't me! I swear!"
"Honestly?" Kurt asked, no one in particular. "You guys don't know who Blais Zabini is? Neanderthals!"
He glared at Mercedes, who promptly stood up and started clapping her hands. Over at the Hufflepuff table, Blaine grabbed Sam by the shoulder. Once those two were standing, clapping, the rest of the students slowly joined. Kurt nodded appreciatively. He did love Hogwarts. . .sometimes the students were a little backwards, but at least they shared a sense of unity.
Just then, the doors at the end of the Great Hall blew open, and Kurt completely forgot about his love of Hogwarts, because a vision in grey silk and pearl walked in.
Oh, Dumbledore. Were slates the newest fall colors? He was going to completely alter the palette of his wardrobe. . .
Blais Zabini was everything that Kurt had ever expected. He walked with measured, cultured steps. His gaze was haughty. His shoes were impeccably shiny, and his clothes. . .dear Dumbledore, his clothes were silk and high quality, and absolutely one of a kind. Mercedes nudged him in the ribs.
"Close your mouth," she hissed. "You're drooling."
Kurt closed his mouth with a sharp clack as his teeth met one another. He sat down with the rest of the students as Zabini stood imperiously near the Goblet.
"Pleasure, I'm sure," he said, with a little bit of a sneer on his face. Mercedes frowned, and Kurt felt the need to remind her that fashion icons didn't necessarily have to possess great public speaking skills. Or any, usually. Just a brief into to their new line at Fashion Week, and maybe a quotable or two. He thought that Zabini was doing just fine.
"I'm so very pleased to be here," Zabini said, his voice droll and dripping with cold jewels. "But I know that you're all mostly just interested to know who your Champions are." He pressed one hand, long, tapered fingers, to the side of the Goblet. A single stream of blue fire spit out of the top, causing all of the girls to ooh, and several of the guys to high five. Kurt grinned.
The fire exploded again, a shower of sparks, and a single piece of paper went flying into the air. An excited Figgins jerked forward to grab it.
"The first Champion, from Beauxbatons is. . .Quinn Fabray."
Kurt rolled his eyes. So predictable. It was pretty neat, though, when the cauldron belched out a second piece of paper. This time Professor Schuester caught the paper.
"The second Champion, from Hogwarts is. . .Rachel Berry."
"Yes!"
Kurt winced. Rachel Berry's voice could probably shatter mirrors, at that intensity. Apparently over her earlier sulk, Rachel ran to the front fo the room, and grabbed Figgins wand out of his hand.
"I want to thank all of you for this opportunity," she said. "I'm thrilled to be representing all of you, and I can assure you that the long legacy of Hogwarts triumph in the Triwizard –eek!"
Her (irritating) speech was abruptly cut off as the Goblet, indifferent to acceptance speeches, spewed out another explosion of blue fire and another single sheet of paper. As Kurt watched Zabini's face light up with the glow of blue flame, he caught the disappointed looks on the Hufflepuff boys' faces. Sam looked the most disappointed, while Blaine maintained his composure. Still, Kurt thought he might be seeing some chinks in the armor. Hmm. . .
Professor Sylvester grabbed the final sheet of paper away from the headmaster. "And the final Champion. . .just loser with a C. . .from Durmstrang is Dave Karofsky."
Kurt's hands froze, halfway to clapping. That was. . .unanticipated. He snuck a side glance toward where the Durmstrang boys were seated. Karofsky's face looked as blank as ever, while Jesse looked. . .Jesse looked completely unhinged. He was halfway standing, and was absolutely glaring at Zabini, as though he had something to do with the results. That was. . .odd.
Before Kurt had the opportunity to wonder at the strange expressions, however, the Goblet gave another shudder, and with the most massive exposion of sparks yet, spewed out two pieces of paper, simultaneously. Zabini caught both of them, and peered down at them with a serpentine smile painted across his thin lips.
"Wha. . .more names?" Professor Schuester shook his head. "Headmaster, that's not how it works."
"Be quiet, Professor!" Figgins said. "If it is what the Cauldron wants. . ."
"But Figgins," Professor protested. "The last time the Cauldron gave us more than two Champions it was Harry Potter. . .and we all know that was Volde—"
"Don't say his name!" Figgins exploded. He glanced around nervously. "And don't be ridiculous, William. You-Know-Who has been dead for two decades now. He can't possibly have a hand in this!"
Zabini, meanwhile, ignored both of them. He just pet the pieces of paper.
"Boo," Mercedes whispered, leaning across the table, "your fashion idol is kind of creepy."
Yeah, Kurt couldn't really argue with that.
"Well?" Figgins said impatiently, leaning forward. "Who are our final Champions?"
A sudden hush fell over all of the students, because this was unprecedented. Kurt noticed that all of the Hufflepuffs had their heads bowed, their hands quietly linked. Thinking about Cedric, no doubt. All down the Gryffindor table there was whisperning, people turning to look uncomfortably toward James. Kurt just adjusted his hair.
"From Durmstrang, we have Jesse st. James," Zabini said, and although Jesse was squick to compose his face, Kurt knew that he had seen a look of triumph flit across his face. "And from Hogwarts, Blaine Anderson."
The world absolutely exploded. Santana was on her feet, swearing about injusticia and how Beauxbatons deserved two Champions, as well. Gryffindor was screaming that a Potter should be a Champion, or a Weasley. Karofsky was shaking his head. And Blaine was just sitting on his bench, mouth wide open.
"Settle down!" Figgins yelled. When everyone ignored him, he grabbed the wand back from Rachel, and tried again. "Settle down!"
But it was complete pandemonium. The Hufflepuff students were all clapping Blaine on the back, although a few of the girls had broken down into tears. Rachel, meanwhile, was having her hand solemnly shaken by all of the Slytherins. Santana was being literally carried off the stage by her blond friend as she attempted to pull another sheet of paper from the Cauldron.
"Shut yer yappers!"
It was Coach Beiste who finally got them all to quiet down. "Really!" she said. "I expected more out of you Hogwarts kids. You're acting like an octopus at a square dance! Now get off to bed, before I have to teach all of you what happens to fish that find themselves in the middle of a vat of ice cream!"
Kurt wasn't sure if it was that Coach Beiste looked absolutely terrifying, backlight by the still-smoldering Cauldron, or if it was just that all of the students were trying to desperately figure out what she was talking about, but the mission seemed to be accomplished. All of the students began shuffling off to bed, discussing the surprising results. He glanced at Mercedes, one eyebrow cocked, as they stepped into the Gryffindor common room. She nodded back at him, and Kurt knew what that meant.
Girl time in front of the fire.
They snuggled up there after curfew, bundled together under one big blanket. Mercedes giggled as she snuggled up next to him, their thights touching under the blanket.
"Shoot," she said. "I forgot my wand."
Kurt shrugged. He didn't have his, either, but that wasn't a big deal. He just glanced over at the chimney and whispered "Incendio." It instantly burst into fire.
Mercedes grinned, her teeth flashing white in the darkness. "I forgot you can do that. Pretty cool."
"That's me," he said. "Kurt Hummel, fashionista, diva, and all around pretty cool guy."
Mercedes didn't respond to that, other than a soft giggle. A comfortable silence settled between them. They both knew what they were there to talk about, both knew what they wanted to say, but neither was quite sure how to begin. It was Mercedes who started.
"You don't think it's like. . .you don't think it's like with Cedric and Mr. Potter, do you?"
Kurt paused for a moment to think, before shaking his head. "No. Voldemort is dead. He's gone. Most of his followers have been rounded up."
"Yeah. I guess you're right." Mercedes shook her head, black hair swishing, nearly invisible in the darkness. "Besides, it's not like any of them are special. Except Jesse."
"Yeah. . .besides, if this were similar to. . .to back then. . .it would be Blaine and Jesse in danger."
Mercedes snorted. "Hard to imagine anyone wanting to get back at Blaine. He's just this. . .boring nice guy. And Jesse's got to be the greatest rock star alive." She gasped, suddenly, and turned to look at Kurt. "You don't think some crazed fan is setting this all up, do you?"
"No," he said. "I don't think that a crazy fan did not sneak past Hogwarts security, bewitch a magical heirloom, and cause Jesse to be entered into a interscholastic tournament."
Mercedes sighed. "Well, when you put it like that, it sounds kind of stupid."
They stared into the fire for a long moment, listening to it crackle.
"So. . ." Mercedes said finally. "Blaise Zabini's kind of a dick, isn't it?"
Kurt had to stuff a hand into his mouth to keep himself from bursting out with laughter.
A/N: Dun dun dun. . .the plot thickens. Or. . .begins, really. Hmmm. . .also, bravo to all you smart readers. But is that really the only reason Kurt is not affected? Hmmm. . .
COMING SOON: A trip to Hogsmeade! Jesse has a secret motive, and Rachel has a not-so-secret plan. Somebody finds out Karofsky's secret, and George Weasley makes a cameo!