13:57

A/N: I am so, so sorry. It's the end of the summer for me, so I haven't had any free time, what with saying good-bye to people, finishing up loose ends and work, and figuring out everything for the upcoming school year. Similarly, soon I embark on the 13 hour car ride back home, so there won't be updates on any of my stories for about a week. I have only this measly, half a chapter to tide you through, but I felt so awful about not updating that I just decided to hand it out to you.

The day of the Third Task was overcast, which really wasn't ideal, since Kurt was certain that it would entail some kind of enchanted maze, as all of the previous Tournaments had. At least the maze would be safer than the previous tasks. . .they could always run away, or apparate out if danger threatened. No, what was far more interesting to Kurt at the moment was choosing the exact right outfit to wear to the pre-task Feast.

He'd considered wearing his outfit from the Yule Ball. As fantastic as it was, however, he thinks that it might be a little overdone for the feast. He'd talked about it with the rest of his friends, but other than Rachel, who would be sitting at the head table, they were all just planning on wearing their regular school robes.

"Mercedes, why does nobody understand what an ideal opportunity for fashion this feast presents?" Kurt whined. His best friend just glanced up at him over the top of her Potions Essay.

"I don't know. . ." she said. "Listen, Kurt, I kind of wanted to talk to you about something. . ."

"Finally!" he said with a grin, sinking down beside her. "Finally somebody understands how important it is to be fashionable. This will be in the papers, you know. Rita Skeeter will be there. Now, I think that you should definitely go with a gold ensemble. It's appropriate for Gryffindor, of course, and it will really accentuate your eyes. Besides, gold is so glamorous. Wait. . .I have just the scarf!"

He ran up to the room to grab the scarf for her. James was sprawled across his bed, apparently writing a letter home, since an owl was sitting just beside him. Kurt ignored him (he also ignored Hugo and Thomas, who were trying to see how many Gobsmackers they could fit in their mouths at one time). It took a little rummaging, but pretty soon he found the scarf that he was looking for.

"Um. . .Kurt. . ." James said, just as he was heading out of the room. Kurt froze. It wasn't that he didn't like James. . .it was just that they had absolutely nothing in common. In fact, he was pretty sure that in the last five years they'd only exchanged a half dozen sentences with one another.

"Yeah?"

"I think Mercedes wanted to talk to you," the other boy said, a little awkwardly. Weird, Kurt thought, though he supposed that it shouldn't surprise him that James and Mercedes were friends. 'Cedes was incredibly friendly, and got along with just about everybody.

"Yes, we're picking out her outfit for the feast tonight," Kurt said. "I'll. . .uh. . .see you later, James."

"Later," James said.

Weird.

Mercedes was still sitting beside the fire when he came out. She looked up at him with a bright smile as he held out the scarf.

"Kurt, it's beautiful!" she gasped. He preened a little because, yeah, his fashion sense was impeccable. "And actually, speaking of beautiful. . ."

Just then there was a knock on the door. Kurt patted Mercedes on the arm. He wanted to hear her news – she was his best friend, after all – but there was no way that he was going to leave Blaine just standing at the door, knocking. So he bolted over and flung it open. . .only to see a sheepish Finn standing there, holding up two pairs of socks.

"Um. . .I forgot which ones you told me to wear," he said.

Kurt rolled his eyes, pointed at the correct pair (the black ones, honestly, Finn) before turning back to his girl. "What did you want to tell me?"

"Oh, nothing," Mercedes said with a small smile, standing up. "Now's not really a good time. I'd better get ready for the feast."

"Do you want me to help you with your make-up?"

Another knock. Mercedes cocked one eyebrow and smirked at him. "You just let your boo in," she said, before heading up to the girls' dormitory. Kurt counted to three before going and opening the door. After all, he didn't want to appear eager and desperate.

Blaine was standing there, hand upraised as though to knock again. A broad grin instantly crossed his face, crinkling up his eyes at the corner, so the green in them was even more prominent. Kurt couldn't help himself. He grabbed the other boy by the lapels and pulled him in for a kiss.

"Hmm," Blaine murmured as they pulled across, his eyes still closed. "Usually I don't appreciate not being given a hello, but I suppose I could take that instead."

Kurt flushed, grabbed Blaine by the hand, and began towing him down the hallway. "So, here's what I'm thinking," he said hurriedly, trying to keep his voice down low. "You sit at the head table for the feast, with Harry Potter, so you'll have the perfect opportunity to. . ."

Blaine interrupted him, putting a hand over his mouth, and kind of pushing him toward the wall. "Shh," he hissed, glancing around the hallway nervously. "I don't really think we should be talking about that in front of everyone!"

Kurt crossed his arms, humphing irritably. He did not appreciate having a hot, sweaty hand pressed against his mouth. He spent hours on skincare, and it was absolutely ridiculous that Blaine would try to mar it for no reason.

"So where should we talk about this, then?" Kurt asked archly. "Nobody's paying attention, Blaine. Nobody cares. They're all too focused on themselves."

Blaine growled a little in his throat, presumably frustrated. Kurt's eyebrow rose a little higher. He knew that his boyfriend (?) was upset, but he didn't think it was unreasonable to find that little growl sexy. He wondered, idly, what else could make Blaine make a noise like that. . .

"We just need to find a classroom, or something," Blaine said, fidgeting a little. "This is kind of a big deal, Kurt."

"You think I don't know that finding the most powerful wand in existence is a big deal?" Kurt asked. Blaine sighed again. Before Kurt could start tearing the other boy a new one (he might be the most perfect boy on earth, but even the most perfect guy on earth did not get to condescend to a Hummel!) the wall beside them started shifting. Blaine and Kurt froze, and in unison turned to stare at the door.

"That's new," Blaine said, his voice flat. Kurt just blinked. The rest of the students continued to just stream past.

"Well. . ." Kurt bit his lip. Then he shrugged. It shouldn't be so surprising, really, doors appearing out of thin air. After all, they lived in a castle where staircases routinely moved around and people in pictures disappeared for hours at a time to take naps. He reached out, grabbed the door with one hand and Blaine with the other, and tugged the older boy in with him. Blaine, to his credit, managed to cut his squawk off halfway through and stumbled in more or less on his own volition.

The door slammed shut behind them, and they were left in the darkness, for just a moment, as their eyes adjusted to the dim lighting of the room. As his eyes did adjust, Kurt sucked in a deep breath. This place was. . .was. . .

It was a massive disaster, is what it was. It looked like Burt's attic before Kurt had done spring cleaning, if it mated with Finn's closet and then spat out hideously disorganized babies that promptly got it on with the Potions room. There was clutter everywhere. Stacks of books on tables, knickknacks in bookcases, brooms on the ground, statutes and baubles and and and

"I can't take it!" Kurt gasped, before instantly going to the first table that he saw and beginning to tidy it up. Blaine whistled a little.

"Wow. . ." he said. "There's so much stuff!"

There was silence for a moment, as Kurt continued to tidy and Blaine just looked curiously at an old pot that appeared to have little glass ballerina figures inside of it.

"Hey," Blaine finally broke the silence. "Do you think there's any chance that Elder Wand is in here?"

That got Kurt's attention. He considered for a moment, his hands pausing their frantic movements, and turned to look at the other boy. When he saw that Blaine's eyebrow was jauntily lifted, saw the twinkle in his eye and the gentle curve of his lip, however, he realized it was a joke and let out an undignified snort.

"If only it were so easy," he giggled. Blaine laughed a little, too, before walking over to Kurt's side.

"So," Blaine said, his voice so low and gravelly that it sent shivers up Kurt's spine. "What you were talking about earlier. . ."

"Yes?" Kurt whispered, licking his lips. He wouldn't classify the feeling as butterflies – more like rhinos were stampeding through his stomach.

"What am I supposed to say to Harry Potter at the head table?"

Oh, right, that. Kurt sighed and pulled back. "You just have to explain the situation to him," he said. "Start with talking about the Elder wand. That should get his attention."

"I don't know. . ." Blaine said, sounding a little dubious. "Maybe I should ease him into it. Start by talking about the Triwizard Tournament, and how it might be rigged, and. . ."

"Blaine," Kurt said urgently, grabbing his boyfriend's arm. "Trust me on this. Do not try to ease him into it."

"But. . ."

"No. Trust me, Blaine."

Blaine sighed. He opened his mouth, and Kurt was fully prepared to argue with him again, except that his lips curled slowly upward, until white teeth were glinting in the dim lighting. Blaine winked at Kurt, before leaning around him and grabbing something off the table. He pulled back a moment later, holding a long. . .feathery. . .well, Kurt wasn't sure what it was, but it was sure to be filled with dust and bacteria.

"Feeling kinky?" Blaine teased. Kurt was pretty sure that all of his blood was now centered in his face. He must have been practically glowing, his face felt so hot. Blaine, meanwhile, had also obviously noticed it, as his grin grew even wider. With an exaggerated sigh he threw the feather-duster-sextoy-atrocity to the side. "Oh well," he said. "Maybe in a month, or two."

Kurt must have squawked, because there was no way, in a month, a year, or a decade that he was ever going to do anything with that. . .that. . .disgusting, vile piece of cleaning equipment. He was just about ready to say so when he noticed that Blaine was still smirking, clearly enjoying himself far too much. So Kurt sighed instead, and stuck a finger in the other boys' face.

"You," he said decisively, "are getting much too cocky for your own good."

"Moi?"

Whatever Blaine was going to say next was cut off by the press of Kurt's lips.

A/N: So, sorry you only get half a chapter. I'll catch up soon, I promise! Also, more concrete jungle around the same time, for those of you reading that.

COMING SOON:

"Blaine. . .Blaine. . .what did you do?"

"I. . .um. . .I tried to ease him into it. . ."