13:57
A/N: Yay! Lots of things happens! What joy! Also, in response to a few questions: Nothing sneaky about Kurt not falling asleep: he just had in his earplugs, which diluted the power of the song. Also. . .there is something special about Kurt coming up, and kind of pointed to a few times. Also, I don't hate Kurt. . .I actually love Kurt as a character, because he's flawed, and self-centered, and often a brat. But then, nobody is perfect. Of course, I love Blaine more, due to the yummy deliciousness that is Darren Criss. Enjoy!
Kurt was seriously considering not even going to the Quidditch game. Despite years of living with Finn, the love of Quidditch that seemed somehow naturally instilled in every wizard in the country had somehow passed him by. Plus, it was a glowing, beautiful day outside, which meant that he couldn't even dig into his not insubstantial collection of scarves. He had an essay to do for History of Magic, and he wanted to practice some of his Charms work, anyway, and it seemed like the perfect opportunity to do so.
"What?" Rachel squawked at breakfast. "You can't skip Quidditch! It's a Hogwarts tradition, a rite of passage for every young witch and wizard, an instrinsic component of your education and rearing at this establishment and. . ."
"Who will I sit with?" Mercedes asked with a fierce frown, her arms crossed across her chest. "I love watching Quidditch. You're telling me just to go alone?"
"You have other friends," Kurt pointed out drolly. "Sit with them."
"But I'm playing," Rachel whined. "Come on, Kurt it's my very first game as a Slytherin Seeker, and I need the support and well-wishes of all of my fans, particularly those who adore me for my inner qualities as well as my talent!"
Kurt did a spit-take.
"Wait. . .you're playing?"
"It's all she's been talking about all week," Mercedes said, rolling her eyes. "Where have you been?"
The infirmary, worried about getting caught, stuffed up to his eyeballs with essays and assignments. . .
"Ever since that practice round, Wes has been begging me to play for them," Rachel said. "I finally acquiesced last week, after my amazing showing at the Tournament solidified my talent and superiority."
"Right. . ." Kurt sighed, and picked idly at his oatmeal. "All right," he said finally, "I'll go."
Rachel and Mercedes promptly both squealed, hopping up and down in their chairs. Rachel then muttered something about a team meeting, and scurried back to the Slytherin table. Mercedes just crooked one eyebrow.
"You know. . .Blaine will be there."
Kurt did not blush. He so totally did not blush. He just reached up to fix his hair.
"I already said I would go."
"I know," Mercedes said, burying herself in her tots again, though that smirk never quite disappeared.
Just then Jesse st. James walked by, and Kurt felt his breath catch in his throat. Jesse was dressed in flawless black from head to toe, with the exception of a dove grey ascot tied around his neck. He looked absolutely divine.
"Hey, Hummel," Jesse said, his voice low and throaty. "See you at the pitch, right?"
Kurt stammered out a reply – he really wasn't sure what he said exactly – and then slowly turned his head to stare at Mercedes. Her eyes were nearly as wide as the plate in front of her, and her mouth hung open. A half-chewed tot fell slowly out between her lips.
"Oh. My. God."
Xxx
Kurt was miserable. He still didn't understand Quidditch, and it was ridiculously windy down at the pitch. His impeccably styled hair was getting ruffled. Many of the students were holding big bags of kettle corn, which went flying every time one of the players made a goal or a net or a hoop, or whatever they were called. Kurt just knew he was going to be finding little kernels in all of his clothing and robes.
He was squashed in tightly between Mercedes and Artie, which was. . .okay. Obviously, he loved both of his friends, but Artie, it turned out, was a bit of a Quidditch aficionado. He alternated between trying to explain the rules to Kurt and Tina, who for their part, just rolled their eyes whenever her turned to address the other one. Although the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor students were thrown together in the stands, the Slytherins and Hufflepuffs remained strictly segregated as they cheered on their houses. Kurt tried to find Blaine in the mass of yellow and black, and finally caught sight of him, sitting next to Karofsky, a broad grin on his face. Kurt's heart sunk a little.
Until, that is, he realized that on Karofsky's other side sat Jesse st. James, who had his gaze set firmly on Kurt. Which was unnerving, but also a little flattering. Until Artie shoved a sharp elbow into his side because one of the Chasers got hit by a Bludgeon, or whatever they were called. Mercedes wolf-whistled on his other side.
"What's going on?" Kurt hissed.
"Hufflepuff is currently in the lead," Artie replied. "Finn's doing an awesome job at Keeper today. . .for once his long limbs are coming in handy. Sam's scored eight of their goals. But Rachel appears to be a much better Seeker than Tricia on the Hufflepuff team. So most likely it's going to come down to. . ."
"She sees it!" Mercedes was on her feet now, clapping excitedly and pointing to the field. "Rachel totally sees the Snitch!"
The entire stadium surged to their feet as Rachel streaked across the pitch. Kurt sighed, crossed his legs, and picked at his fingernails. This was about the seventh time everybody had stood up, and they were almost two hours into the game. Artie had told him that games had been known to last for days. He really hoped that wasn't the case today.
"Kurt! Kurt! Kurt!" Mercedes was pulling incessantly at his shirt. Kurt sighed and stood. After all, he was hardly going to sacrifice his most recent Marc Jacobs jacket just because Mercedes was over-excited. He shaded his eyes and stared at the field.
A green blur that had to be Rachel was quickly approaching the Hufflepuff hoops. Kurt's eyes widened as he saw a glint of gold just over Finn's ear.
"That isn't. . ."
"It's the Snitch! It's the Snitch!" Mercedes was chanting excitedly. "She's going to get it!"
As far away as they were, Kurt could still see the look of surprise on Finn's face as Rachel hurtled toward him. The Keeper raised one hand to protect his face, as she barreled into him, one hand outstretched for something over his shoulders. Her fingers closed, but as she ran into Finn, she lost control of her broom, which fluttered to the ground below. Finn grabbed her beneath her elbow as she hooked one knee over his broom.
It was over in a matter of seconds, and Kurt tried to will his breakfast to stay back down. Rachel raised her hand triumphantly. . .
And Finn's broom began to shake. Not just shake, but lurch wildly back and forth. Kurt bit his tongue. There was a creaking, cracking sound that echoed through the now-silent stadium, before the broom broke in half, and Finn and Rachel began tumbling to the ground.
Kurt didn't even bother to pull his wand out of his pants pocket. All that he knew was that his very best frenemy and stepbrother were going to have their bones horribly mangled if somebody didn't do anything. And, after the disaster of the Tournament, he very must doubted that any of the teachers would do anything.
"Levicorpus!" he screamed. Finn and Rachel's descent instantly flowed, until they floated down softly, and landed gently on the ground.
"Good job, Kurt," Mercedes said, squeezing his upper arm tightly. Kurt let out a slow, tremulous breath.
When he raised his eyes to the stands opposite him, he saw Coach Sylvester staring straight at him, her eyes blazing.
Xxx
"Look, Mr. Schuester," Jesse said, his tone condescending as ever.
"Actually, we go by Professor here. . ." Professor Schuester said, sounding incredibly uncomfortable.
"Whatever. It seems to me that we should be learning some offensive magic. Like. . .a death song. I only know one battle song, so that would also be helpful, or perhaps. . ."
Kurt exchanged a glance with Mercedes. They already knew what was coming up. Ever since he'd joined Musical Lyricism, Jesse had continuously made pointed little jabs at the inadequacy of the program. Quite frankly, Kurt was getting sick of it.
Today, however, was distinctly different. Rachel was positively beaming after her Quidditch victory, while both Finn and Sam wore sulky expressions. Blaine apparently found the entire thing hilarious, as he had walked into class making jokes about the loss, and wondering why if Finn caught the girl who caught the Snitch, they didn't get backup points. The other two boys evidently didn't find it nearly as funny, pointedly picking the last two seats in the first row. Blaine just raised an eyebrow at that, taking his own seat between Quinn and Santana.
He glanced at Kurt with a smug expression on his face, and Kurt had to bite back a laugh. Sure enough, Finn and Sam's faces fell when they saw their friend sitting with their crushes.
"Look, the lesson plan for today is all mapped out," Professor Schuester said firmly. "After Blaine's fantastic use of a lullaby in the Tournament last weekend, I thought it might be a good idea to teach all of you how to do an Awakening. Does anyone here know what an Awakening – yes, Rachel?"
Rachel promptly hopped to her feet, throwing her shoulders back and her chin up. "An Awakening is a spell that can be sung to awaken a sleeping person from their slumber. When utilized on a person who is already awake, it increases their stamina and endurance."
"Excellent, thank you, Rachel," Professor Schuester said. "Now then, I do apologize for this song. . .it can be a bit. . .ah-hem."
Professor Schuester evidently decided not to continue with that train of thought. He handed out sheet music, and then stood in the middle of the room, opened his mouth, and began to sing.
Oh, no. Oh hell no. Kurt glanced down at his sheet music.
He was serious. Their Hogwarts professor was actually singing a 13 year old, tone deaf girls' music.
"7 am, waking up in the morning
Gotte be fresh gotta get downstairs
Gotta have my bowl, gotta have cereal
Seein' everthing, the time is rushing"
Oh my Dumbledore, Kurt realized. This song was awesome. Like, really, really awesome. Wait, why wasn't he standing up dancing? He should really be standing up dancing.
"Tickin' on and on, everybody's rushing
gotta get down to the busstop, gotta catch my bus
I see my friends"
Wait. . .dancing wasn't enough. Kurt should be. . .he should be. . .jumping! Yes! So he began to jumped. Looking to his right, he saw that Mercedes was also hopping around. Suddenly, Rachel jumped on top of a chair and began singing along.
"Kicking in the front seat, sitting in the back seat
Gotta make my mind up, which seat should I take?"
Blaine and Jesse suddenly slid across the floor from opposite directions, crashing into each other in the middle of the floor. Both consummate professionals, however, they both quickly hopped to their feet and began fist-pumping with all the vigor of a true Jersey Shore inhabitant.
Wow, Kurt thought. Fist pumping. Fist pumping was awesome. He should totally be fist pumping.
"It's Friday! Friday! Gotta get down on Friday!
Everybody's looking forward to the weekend, weekend
Friday, Friday, getting' down on Friday
Everybody's lookin' forward to the weekend!"
Quinn, Santana, and Brittany started going handsprings across the floor. Wow! Handsprings! That was a great idea! Kurt should totally start doing handsprings!
Except. . .he didn't know how to a handspring. He did, howeer, know how to do cartwheels, so he promptly executed three cartwheels in quick succession across the floor. Finn and Sam had started doing windsprints. Blaine and Jesse were still singing furiously into one another's faces, jumping higher and fist pumping harder with each word. Mike Chang was break dancing like his life depended on it.
"Partyin', partyin', yeah!
Partyin', partyin', yeah!
Fun, fun, fun, fun,
Lookin' forward to the weekend!"
All of a sudden, Kurt came up with a really, really good idea.
Even after the song had ended, all of the students were still jittery with adrenaline and endorphins. Kurt was pretty certain that he could actually fly if he wanted to.
Probably.
Possibly.
Maybe not so much.
"Okay. . ." Professor Schuester muttered to himself. "Memo. . .never have the whole group sing a song together again. . ."
Kurt was right behind Finn, Blaine, and Sam as they walked out. Evidently they'd made up.. .or all of the left-over energy from the Awakening song was coursing through their veins too quickly for them to have any semblance of control. Or whatever passed for control with teenage boys, anyway.
"All right, so the plan is set, right?" Finn asked. Kurt grinned a little. Finn was using what he clearly thought was a stealthy whisper, but with all the hissing and spitting, it was as loud as anything.
"Aye, roger, T minus fifteen and counting," Sam said, adopting some kind of a raspy voice, and covering his mouth so that it sounded like static.
"Wait. . .there's a plan?" Blaine asked. Finn and Sam both turned to look at him with horror-struck faces.
"The plan!" Finn hissed. Blaine's grin just widened. He caught Kurt, shamlessly eavesdropping, and winked.
"Oh," he said nonchalantly. "I didn't realize that inviting girls to a dance counted as a plan. Hey, Santana!" he called. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"
Sam and Finn just stood, their jaws hanging down to their toes, as Blaine sauntered over to the Latina's side, and began talking to her. Kurt sidled up beside his stepbrother.
"You guys are asking the Beauxbatons girls to the Yule Ball?" he asked.
"Yeah," Finn said. "I'm asking Quinn, and Sam's going to ask Brittany."
Kurt nodded absently and turned back to look at Blaine and Santana. Just because he was nosy, not because he'd been dreaming for five years of having Blaine ask him to a dance. Not because last year he had stayed in and drawn little hearts all over a notebook that said Kurt Anderson-Hummel until Mercedes had dragged him away under threat of death. No, that's totally not why he was looking, and when he saw the two shake hands (one part of his head found that a strange way of accepting a date) he absolutely did not feel let down.
"Excuse me." Kurt turned around to address the owner of the silky smooth voice, and almost squealed in joy. Because, for the third time in a week (a week!) Jesse st. James was talking to him. So Kurt promptly forgot about a pair of hazel eyes on a certifiably straight boy, because a rock god was talking to him and wearing a pair of painted on leather jeans that absolutely could not be cupping a heterosexual ass.
"Y-yes?" Kurt stammered, getting it right on the second try.
"You're friends with Rachel Berry, right?" Jesse asked.
"Friends might be too strong a word," Kurt said. "But in essence, yes."
"And Blaine Anderson? You know him, too, right?"
"He's my stepbrother's best friend."
"Excellent," Jesse said. When he smiled, Kurt's knees shook a little bit. "Then I know that you have discerning tastes. Would you do me the honor of being my escort to the Yule Ball?"
He couldn't talk. Kurt Hummel had, quite literally, lost the power of speech. Jesse st. James just stared at him for a minute. His eyes were brown. They were very pretty. Kurt might have started drooling.
"Well," Jesse said after a few moments. "I guess that I'll take that as a yes."
Xxx
"What do you mean you're not going?"
Mercedes sighed, and dipped her feather back into the ink. "I don't know. . .I don't have a date. . ."
"Mercedes Jones, when has a lack of a date ever kept you from going to a dance?"
"Yeah, but in the past you went stag, and Rachel went stag, and we could just go in a group. This is different."
Kurt frowned at his Potions essay. He was beginning to wonder if he was using some kind of strange, unending parchment. No matter how much he wrote, it seemed like he had equal amounts to go. "Then we'll just have to find you a date, won't we?"
"I don't want to be your pity party," Mercedes said, dotting an I and crossing a t. "It will be fine. You will go have fun with your date, and I'll finally finish up with that stupid Arithmancy assignment that I'll be putting off forever."
Kurt sighed. He was trying to think of some kind of rebuttal, when there was a knock at the Gryffindor common room. They glanced at each other, surprised. Few people in Gryffindor had any friends outside the House, and really only Rachel ever came by. But when she did, she rapped three times sharply, twice slow, and then would begin singing. This was a simple, straight knock.
"Who do you. . ."
Mercedes just shrugged, clearly still in a bit of a snit, so Kurt pulled himself up and went to check the door. When he opened it, he was stunned to see Blaine standing outside, leaning slightly against the wall, and smiling disarmingly.
"Uh. . .what do you. . .uh. . ." Kurt really wasn't used to being at a loss for words, and this was twice now, in a matter of hours.
"Hi, Kurt, how are you doing?" Blaine asked, all dapper formality. Kurt just blinked, twice, and Blaine let out a low laugh. "Sorry," he said, sounding a bit sheepish. "I'm not very good at this?"
"Good at what?"
"I was wondering if you'd like to go to the Yule Ball with me?"
Make that three times that he was speechless. He gaped for a few moments, and Blaine just shuffled, a bit uncomfortable, obviously. Kurt finally caught wind of something to say.
"But you're going with Santana."
Really, Kurt? That's really what you come up with? The guy you've been crushing on for five years asks to a dance – a guy that you'd thought was straight, nonetheless – and all you can do is ask about another person? Sometimes Kurt really hated himself.
"Oh, the plan!" Blaine exclaimed, sounding delighted. "Yes. I had to get Santana to go out, but not with me. With Dave."
Kurt quirked an eyebrow.
"Dave Karofsky. He's. . .well, he's having trouble coming to terms with his sexuality. But he can't hit on girls, either, and since he's required, as a representative of Durmstrang to attend the dance, I promised I'd help him get a date."
Kurt nodded. "Okay, but. . .why me? You don't even like me."
"Why would you think that?" Blaine asked, his thick eyebrows drawing together across his forehead. Kurt had to force his gaze away from those expressive eyes. But then they just fell on his lips, and that definitely wasn't any better. "I mean, I don't know you very well. I just thought, as the only two gay guys at school, we could go together. You know, show Dave that it's okay to be out."
Blaine was looking at him a little strangely now, and Kurt wasn't surprised. He could probably hear the heart threatening to escape from Kurt's chest, and he could certainly see the bright red that must suffuse his face.
"Wait. . .you're gay?"
"Of course," Blaine said, quirking one of those delicious eyebrows. Kurt nearly swooned. He shouldn't like those eyebrows – he should find them untamed and ridiculously overgrown. Instead he found them precious. "I've been out since my second year. Wait. . .don't tell me you didn't know that?"
"I can't go with you," Kurt blurted out, the words coming together in one quick rush. "Jesse st. James asked me."
"Really?" Blaine looked delighted. "Kurt, that's fantastic! Good for you. And don't worry about me, Rachel already asked, I'll just go with you. Have fun!"
And then Blaine was walking back down the hallway, still a spring in his step, as though getting rejected didn't mean a thing to him. Which, Kurt realized, it probably didn't. He'd only been asked as a way of proving a point.
Even so. Kurt walked back into the Gryffindor common room in a daze, walking right past Mercedes. He didn't notice the expression on her face, didn't notice the way her head fell back down into her arms. He just walked up the stairs to the boys dorm, and laid out across his bed. After sixteen years without a chance of romance, the two most delicious boys in school had just asked him to a dance. He thought that if a comet hit the earth at that very minute, he would die happy.
COMING SOON: The Yule Ball! Finn's dancing abilities result in a trip to Madame Pomfrey! Kurt discovers a dark underbelly to the Tournament, Sam ends up juggling three girls, and Kurt gets his first kiss.