Just a quick heads up for y'all...
"This is mirror speak, or the language used when communicating with the modified two-way mirror."
*This is sign language.*
And this is a line break. Hope you enjoy. Hopefully this chapter answers some questions, and sorry about my absence lately. Things are getting crazy. It's college app and IB season, so I'm screwed on a lot of things. So of course I thought I'd write fanfiction instead of doing any actual work, so you're welcome. ;) Anyways, pretty pretty please leave a review and I'll love you forever.
Sue Sylvester was on the warpath.
Granted, there were very few times in Sue's life when she hadn't been on a warpath of some sort. Sylvester liked the warpath, she lived on it, so it was really just another day of infamy for the Cheerio's supreme ruler. Sylvester ruled with her own brand of insane chaos, and she was a master at subterfuge, a spy and advocate for the forces of chaos. And if she was being honest, she could totally admit that she was one hell of a soldier. Or maybe a general. Or screw it, Sue Sylvester was the goddamn Emperor, and she made sure that all the scum at this lowly cesspool of a school knew it.
"Watch it, babycakes, or I've got a free coupon for an experimental vasectomy with your name on it." Sue shoved some Freshie into the lockers lining the hallway, just for the heck of it. She had been having a rather rough time lately. And by "lately", she meant "ever since that damnable Schuester had taken his coiffed and oiled-up, grease-monkey-infested hair and formed a glee club filled with all the dredges and washed-up losers of what passed for society at McKinley".
Anyways.
That Glee club was the bane of her existence. Sure, it seemed all innocent and lovely on the outside, but the core itself was absolutely rotten, like the seven-year-old candy she had left for Will and his students that one time last year.
God, the projectile vomiting had been music to her ears.
Sue continued to prowl the corridors of McKinley, searching the halls for the next victim of her ire. Somebody (Becky) had forgotten someone's (Sue Sylvester, monarch supreme and don't you forget it) packs of protein powder. Sue had recently set herself on a strict dieting regiment of rocks, falcon eggs, and protein powder as a test run for her Cheerios. If she could stomach it for two weeks, then her girls and assorted gay bases could handle it for the next year or two. But now, she didn't have her protein packs. And someone would have to pay. Finally, Sue the lioness spotted her favorite high-school gazelle.
"PORCELAIN!" She bellowed, sharp eyes locking onto the rather delicate-looking teen. He was standing by his locker, clad in one of his signature outrageous outfits, one hand on his hips and one fingering his locker door. He looked up, startled at her call, and Sue relished in the bright fear he held in those pale eyes. She smirked at him, sauntering up to his locker and leaning against the hideous wall of lockers to face him.
"So, how we doin' today, Ladyface?" She asked casually, examining her blood-red nails with a feigned nonchalance. "How're all the gleeks doing so far? Wait, you know what," Sue licked her finger and held it in the air before sniffing it, "Never mind, I can smell the intoxicating scents of ultimate loserdom and the tears of young children from here. Funny enough, it all seems to be coming from the choir room, what a surprise. Well, that answers my question, then. Good day to you, you flamboyant little flowerpot of rainbows and glitter-puke." Sue pushed herself off of the lockers, ignoring Hummel's indignant cries of "Hey!" as she stalked away.
Sue continued her patrol, shouting at random students that she passed just for the glorious hell of it. She was almost at her her office corner when she finally saw it. Or rather, him.
He had on a dark sweatshirt with his hood pulled up to hide his face. His legs were clothed in black denim, and he was stuffing books and papers into a satchel with an unfamiliar symbol on the side.
But the most important thing was that Sue didn't recognize him. She made a point of memorizing every new student's profile, to know their name, their physical build, and their interests. Doing so gave her an unrivaled advantage when tearing the 'undesirables' down and sorting out the ranks of her beloved Cheerios. And yet, despite not being able to see the kid's face, she just knew that he was a new variable at McKinley. He was an unknown, an unregistered anomaly in a world where Sue ruled over the school's pockets of losers with an iron fist. And having a nameless rebel amid her drones simply wouldn't do.
"Hey there, short stuff," Sue began with her trademark smirk, "Don't think I've seen you around these parts yet." She watched the boy closely as he jumped slightly at her voice. He spun around, and Sue could just make out some sort of scar hiding under an utter mess of jet-black hair that spilled onto his forehead. He had the brightest eyes that Sue had ever seen on a human being, and they were the exact shade of poisonous green that would make any emeralds jealous.
It was totally unnatural. And creepy. The kid looked uneasy, and Sue could hear his feet shifting on the rough linoleum of the school tiles. So she stared at him some more, hoping to intimidate him with her patented Stare of Death. To her surprise, he held her stare, his gaze piercing as he maintained his unflinching eye contact. Ok, well, this was just getting weird now. Finally, he took a step back and held out his hand with a small smile on his face. Sue stared at the offending limb.
"I will not shake your hand!" She screeched, slapping the offered appendage away. He blinked, once, twice, and then cocked his head and slung his satchel onto his other shoulder. He brought his hand up to his forehead, with his thumb touching the center of his palm. He jerked his arm out from the elbow and lay his hand at his side, still smiling.
Sue stared at the new kid for a few moments, but in open-mouthed shock this time. She knew that gesture, she had used it enough times with her sister to know it by heart by now.
*Hello.*
When Sue didn't react to the sign language, the boy sighed, shoulders slumping and staring at the ground.
"Are you deaf?" Sue glared at the kid. He raised and shook his head in the universal sign for "no." He pointed at the base of his throat and drew a hand across his neck.
"So you poor sucker can't talk then, is that it?" The kid brightened and nodded. "Well, thank God for that then, I don't have to worry about you joining up with Hobbit and Juggerson McGee and Asians one through two and the rest of that merry band of gleek-ulous losers."
The boy looked confused for a few seconds before shrugging again and making a few more hand gestures.
*Hello. My name is H-A-R-R-Y and I'm new here. Who are you?*
"Sue Sylvester, head coach of the Cheerios and your worst nightmare if you ever even dare to cross me."
Harry smiled. He decided that he liked this woman, despite his better judgement and her odd choice of dress. I mean, a bright red tracksuit, really? But really, he just loved the fact that good ol' Snape seemed to have somehow been reincarnated into the body of a female Cheer coach. It was almost fitting, really, that he should meet up with him again so soon.
Sue gave him one last hard glare before whirling around and sauntering back down the hallway, throwing an offhanded, "Watch it, you Ariel knock-off. I got my eye on you, newbie, just like every other godforsaken person stuck in this hellpit someone decided to call a school. I'll see you around."
Harry sent a curious but amused glance at the retreating back of the notorious Sue Sylvester. He shoved the last of his folders into his bag and closed his locker just as the lunch bell rang. Harry looked around the rapidly-filling hall. He had just gotten his schedule halfway through the morning periods and had helped that one girl pick up all of her papers stuff before hearing to his locker. It had taken him about twenty tries to learn how to open and close the damn thing. Harry frowned as his pocket started whispering to him.
"Harry! Psst! Harry Potter!"
Harry clutched his bag and ducked into the nearest bathroom that he could find. He frantically dug his mirror out of his jeans and held it up to his face, only to see Luna's scowling profile staring back at him.
"I swear to the nargles, Harry James Potter, I am going to frickin' skin you when I see you again."
Harry winced at the blonde's glare. The mirror's view shifted around a bit and suddenly Harry was looking at Luna's proudly-raised middle finger.
"Look at this , Harry. JUST LOOK at what you made Dennis teach me. Look at the lengths you've driven me to, just so I can flip you off from an entire continent away. You seriously didn't recognize that Hermione was," Luna framed the next word in air quotation marks, "COSPLAYING as me? What the Hufflepuff, Harry? I'm rather insulted. Was she even wearing my earrings? Of course not! Did she ever use the code phrase I made for all Unspeakable operations?"
Harry shrugged and offered a rather sheepish smile in response.
*Luna, you made the code word 'Hello.' Everyone uses the word hello. That one's all on you.*
"Oh no, don't you blame me, Potter," Luna easily read his fluttering hand, "Pin that one on Adele and that stupid Book of Mormon song, not me. It's not my fault every damn artist uses 'Hello' nowadays."
*Sorry.*
"Oh shut up, we both know you're not, you Insufferable One." Her face softened. "Anyways, I'm glad you made it out okay. Obviously, Seamus's plan worked?"
*Yup. Like a charm, which is literally the instance in this case. The twi– George's 'Starburst' candies did the trick. An excellent distraction, and we were out of there. What–* Harry's signing faltered for a moment, before ploughing on to spell out the difficult name. *What's happening with H-E-R-M-I-O-N-E?*
"That's what I called about. Well, that and just making sure that you managed to apparate your sorry ass to the right spot. And stop signing so damn fast, not all of us have the privilege of learning new languages overnight via goddamned pensieves. Anyways, they're holding Hermione 'till the authorities can fully figure out what happened. By the way, Seamus wanted me to congratulate you on your wandless stunner, he said it was, and I quote, 'Bloody feckin' brilliant' and 'supermegafoxyawesomehot.' No clue what the Morgana that means, but he wanted you to know. Anyways, have you met up with my contact so far?"
*No. Haven't seen her yet.*
"Well, then go and bloody find her, Potter, you're seriously useless. And make some damn friends, join up with some clubs. The more people you meet up with, the more you can learn from them, and it'll be way easier to fit in. Just stay low, Potter, and keep your head down. Don't just not go looking for trouble, I want you to actively hide from it. And shut up right now, because I know that you're about to say something along the lines of how it's' not your fault that trouble finds you' so just keep that bull to yourself, okay? We clear on that, Harry?"
Harry sent a mock salute back through the connection, his hand sporting its own erect middle finger.
*Yes, Ma'am, I read you loud and clear.*
"Damn straight you do." And really, he should never have taught Luna how to use muggle profanities, she was clearly abusing her new knowledge. "Now get out of the goddamned bathroom, you'll either look like a creep or a loser or, God forbid, a pedophile. Oh, and before you go," The mirror suddenly tilted to show the stone ceiling of Luna's office. Harry could hear footsteps in the distance, and was barely able to make out the various screams and shouts that basically acted as white noise in the new Department of Mysteries. Suddenly, Luna was back with a very familiar piece of parchment. "Here you are," she said cheerfully, "we've been working on this feature of the mirror for a bit now, and I think you're gonna love it." Luna grabbed the creased piece of paper and pressed it up against the glass. Harry heard her mutter a few words, and suddenly, the surface of the mirror began to ripple as a corner of the parchment broke through the glass on Harry's side. Harry simply stared at it, slack-jawed with disbelief and awe. He cautiously pinched on a corner and pulled the folded mess through the mirror until it was all the way and on his side of reality instead of Luna's.
"Isn't it cool?" Luna asked, beaming. "We also modified the map just a teensy-weensy bit to help you out over there. To see Hogwarts and her occupants, just use the old Marauder's password. Or, in your case, tap it with your wand three times, since it'll recognize you. To see McKinley's people and hallways, just tap it once and trace, 'Potter Stinks,' on any blank page."
Harry glared at her.
"Now don't you give me that look, mister, I'll have you know that we couldn't have done this without Draco, so wipe that pout off your mouth. I swear to Wizard God, you both have to get over this ridiculous rivalry. Anyways, I gotta go, some idiots are testing fiendfyre without me and that shit is like the coolest to watch. See yah, Harry. Have fun, and I love you. We're all gonna miss you over here, so don't let those Yanks get you too down. I'll talk to you later, okay?"
Harry and Luna smiled at each other. *I love you too, sister mine.*
"See your sorry mug soon, brother dear."
Luna's mirror went dark as Harry shoved his own half back into his pocket and leaned over the bathroom sink. Keeping his head down. He could do that, right? Learn to keep his head down, and not to act on his instincts?
He could make friends, couldn't he? Real ones, that did all of the things that wizards didn't. Friends that played for more than just one sport, did more than just one thing. Friends who could push him and love Harry without loving the Boy-Who-Lived, without worshipping the Savior.
For the first time in his entire life, Harry had a choice. Harry had the option, the ability, to make his own way, to try his own things. He could be his own person.
I can be me, Harry thought, and his reflection beamed back at him in the muggle bathroom mirror. He could do this. He would do this. Rejuvenated after his mini pep-talk, Harry turned on his heel and strode out of the bathroom, whipping the door back to back against the wall. The hall was so filled with people now that barely anyone even glanced over at him or his echoing exit. Harry felt like a new person. He was free of all of his old titles, free of the stares and the echoing whispers that had haunted him in the Wizarding World.
And all he had to do to keep it that way was lay low.
"Heya, freak!"
Harry whipped around at the deep voice, eyes blazing with anger before he realized that the insult hadn't been meant for him. Instead, it seemed to be aimed towards the pale boy that Sylvester had been harassing earlier. Harry struggled to recall the boy's real name, as he sincerely doubted that this kid's parents had written down 'Ladyface' or 'Porcelain' (or whatever Sue had called him) on his birth certificate.
The guy was clearly not physically prepared to take on the red-coated bully by himself. Jesus, thought Harry, that dude is huge. And he had brought backup. Suddenly, a throng of red-suited guys had surrounded Hummel (yes, that was it, Hummel must be last name then) in the blink of an eye. Harry hadn't even seen any of them emerge from the steady stream of students all on their way to the lunchroom.
"You know, Kurt," Jock #1 sneered, "I don't like you."
"Well, that should be fairly obvious by now, Karofsky," the boy (who was apparently named Kurt, Harry noted) shot back, "I hate to say it, but I'm just not your type. You're meant for someone much less, how do I put this...fabulous than me. Believe me, I'm way out of your league." Kurt's words were practically dripping with sarcasm. Harry knew that this could only end badly. He had to give the kid props for standing up to the hulk of a teen in front of him, though. That took some real guts to do.
Karofsky's face was steadily getting redder and redder as Kurt went on. The assorted crowd of jocks behind him sniggered. A dark-skinned dude with "Adams" scrawled on the back of his jacket guffawed at Kurt's words. "Ain't nobody want your gayness here, Hummel," he said, turning to his comrades, "What do you say we wash it off of him?" Adams held up some sort of plastic cup. Harry saw the red liquid sloshing around inside of it and understood what was about to happen mere moments before anything actually did.
On instinct, Harry slid through the crowd to reach the jocks in the nick of time. He used one hand to roughly shove Kurt out of the way of the incoming slushies while using the other to tilt the offensive beverages back towards their original owners. He used an extra bit of magic to help his hand move faster, until every single ounce of slushy had been forced back onto the offenders. It only took a few seconds, but when it was over, the entire hall was eerily silent. Harry glanced down at the floor, where an awestruck Kurt was staring up at him. He risked a quick look at the fuming mass of jocks, somewhat pleased to note that each was stained and dripping with red syrup. Harry's amusement faded as he saw their faces.
Shit, they were angry, and all built like the Hulk's baby cousins. Harry gave one last smile to Kurt, before turning on his heel and sprinting down the hallway. He didn't know where he was going, but as an epic bellow of rage echoed behind him, he knew two things for sure.
1.) Harry Potter sucked at laying low, and 2.) Luna was going to freaking kill him.
Hiya! Anyways, hope it went okay...again, please review or PM me, it would make my day to hear from you! A huge thank-you to all of those who reviewed, especially YellowWheatCorn, the guest ChopSuzy, roobug21301, and Sparkly Martian
for their especially perceptive reviews and criticism, but seriously, reviews are the best!
And special thanks to the five users who actually put me in their communities (OH MY GOD I'M IN A COMMUNITY)!
Until next time,
Your cocoa today was served, as always, by Knickity.
Also I have like ZERO ideas as to what I should do for pairings. Thoughts? Comments? Suggestions? Love ya! And look at the word count on this Mother, a whopping ol' 3,2810 words! And serious props to any of you who got the Starkid reference...god, that group is like a modern collection of artistic deities. Love'em to death. Any other fans out there?