Glee, Harry Potter 1. Reasons to Leave

Summary: With the war going poorly, Dumbledore sends Harry off to Ohio, America to play the role of the muggle student, Blaine Anderson. Life is great as Blaine transfers to McKinley High. Until Voldemort finds him, that is. Harry/Kurt, Klaine.

Warning: Slash (though if you had a problem with that, then you probably wouldn't be watching Glee…)

A/N: This is going to be a long journey, guys! I fully expect this fic to end up being more than 100k words at the very least. Hope you enjoy!

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**Chapter 1: Reasons to Leave**

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"_Stupefy!"_ Harry shouted, directing the spell to the Death Eater chasing him. He covered the back of three third years who had gotten caught in the middle of a fight while on a trip to Hogsmeade. As he ran, he yelled, "Guys, get to the Three Broomsticks. The professors will keep you safe."

The fleeing third years nodded, frantically scrambling over burnt pieces of rubble. Harry sighed in relief when they were pulled into the shop by Professor Snape. His distraction, though short, made him unaware of the burst of light off to his right, indicating a spell headed his way. It wasn't until a bench exploded, nearly taking off his arm when the chair leg flung his way, that Harry was brought back to the battle at hand. He ducked, peering out from behind the fallen roof of a building, his eyes searching for still-standing Death Eaters.

"Potter, behind you!" Snape shouted, from the door to the Three Broomsticks. It was a move that saved Harry's life… and thoroughly blew Snape's cover as a loyal Death Eater. Later, Snape (and possibly Harry, as well) would curse the action as a foolish show of Gryffindor stupidity. Right now Harry was grateful for the help, as an _Avada Kedevra_ shot past his head.

Voldemort hissed angrily, directing his piercing, red gaze from Harry to Snape. "Severus, you dare betray me for the Light?" He asked, pointing his wand towards the spy instead.

Snape didn't respond besides a quickly cast _Sectumsepra_ directed towards his former master. "Potter, get over here." He demanded. Harry scrambled behind Snape and turned to face Voldemort, his wand at the ready.

"Don't be an idiot, boy." Snape hissed, "Get to the Headmaster. He's in the Three Broomsticks along with the other professors." Harry didn't move. "_Now_, Potter!"

"But Professor, I can't leave you here against _him_." Harry protested, glaring defiantly at Voldemort, who was watching the exchange bemused.

"No, go on now, Potter." Voldemort rasped, "I would like to talk to Severus alone, please." He said in an eerie parody of politeness.

Snape narrowed his eyes, his gaze still fixated on Voldemort. "I'll be fine, Potter. We need you more than we need anyone else."

Harry pursed his lips, about to refuse again. Snape saw that, and with a flick of his wrist sent Harry flying until he landed with a _thump!_ in front of the Three Broomsticks. Harry quickly found himself manhandled into the shop, leaving Snape standing outside, alone, against the greatest Dark Lord of their time.

Before he knew what was happening, Floo powder was being thrust into his arms. "Get back to Grimmauld Place." Dumbledore commanded, brandishing his wand and heading out the door without another word. Harry nodded, allowing himself to step into the fireplace now that he knew Snape wouldn't be dying today.

Dumbledore called Harry to his office the next day when everything had calmed down. "Yesterday was an unfortunate breech in security." Dumbledore said gravely, the twinkle that was once in his eye gone as he stared into Harry's eyes. "We can't be sure that Voldemort won't attack openly anymore—the simple fact that he could just walk into Hogsmeade without interference tells us plenty about his confidence as of now."

Harry nodded grimly, and asked, "What should we do about it, Headmaster?" He already knew, in part, what the response would be.

Years had passed since the re-emergence of Voldemort, and there had been countless threats to his life in that time. The reaction was always basically the same: a restriction of his freedom "for his own good". Whether that meant no Hogsmeade trips, or no more visits to the Burrow, Harry knew he would be stuffed somewhere safe like a prized pet that wasn't allowed to get dirty. He was right, but he underestimated the extent that Dumbledore would go through to keep his golden boy safe.

"You must understand, Harry, that you came an inch from dying yesterday. Quite literally in fact: if Severus hadn't blown his cover as he did, then you could easily have died then."

"Yes sir, I know." Harry responded, and obediently followed intoned, "And I'll be sure to thank Professor Snape."

Dumbledore shook his head, knowing that Harry wasn't getting the point. "Harry, we're losing the war right now." He said bluntly, "And until the tides turn, you won't be safe here."

Harry's eyes widened. "You taking me out of Hogwarts?" Harry asked disbelievingly. He knew _something_ was coming, but not this! "But Professor, how am I supposed to learn, to prepare for battle—?"

"Harry." Dumbledore interrupted him calmly, reminding him of the seriousness of their conversation.

Harry took a deep breath and spoke again, his voice quavering at his effort to keep his tone calm. "Professor," Harry started again, "I can't leave Hogwarts. My friends are here; my whole _life_ is here. Sir, if you take me away from it and stick me in some safe house, I don't think I would be able to handle it."

"No, my dear boy, we're not sticking you in some safe house." Dumbledore paused, trying to phrase his next sentence so it would have the least shocking effect. "We're going to relocate you to another school, somewhere in America, where Voldemort would never find you."

Harry sunk back into the chair, partially relieved, and partly stricken by the implications of such a move. "That's doable," He consented, "but what of my studies? You know I was thinking to become an Auror when I get out of school, and Professor McGonagall was just talking about how I need to keep up my Potions grades. And not to mention there must be an entirely new curriculum there; Hermione was actually just talking about it yesterday."

"I'm afraid your studies will have to be put on halt. It wouldn't be unreasonable to say that you may have to repeat your entire seventh year, my boy. But you have to understand, the risk that Voldemort poses to you as of now is too much to have you just stay cooped up in Hogwarts. While this school does its best to protect its students, it cannot protect its students from themselves. I hate to stereotype, but many of our Slytherins _are_ potential threats to you."

"Redo my final year?" Harry asked, trying to comprehend what he was hearing. "But what about my friends? The Aurors? Ron and I were planning on taking the test together—"

"And that can wait." Dumbledore cut him off sternly. He leaned forwards, clasping his hands together and stared seriously into Harry's eyes. "I have just lost my main spy in the Death Eaters, Voldemort is getting stronger, and the Ministry is increasingly blocking my efforts to stop him. It wouldn't be unreasonable for Voldemort to storm Hogwarts simply to get to you. This relocation is as much for your protection as it is the other students' in this school."

Harry slumped in his seat, resigned. He was willing to risk his own life, but the life of others…? Could he really ask some innocent first year to die simply because the Boy-Who-Lived wanted to finish school with his friends? "Yes sir." He acquiesced quietly.

"Thank you. You know I wouldn't do this if I had no other option. Now, you will be headed to America, as I said before: to a small town called Celina in the American state of Ohio. It's a muggle town, and you will be forbidden from using magic until we come and retrieve you."

"Wait," Harry interrupted him, "you're putting me in the Muggle World? Why can't I just be relocated to a Wizarding town in America?"

"Voldemort is expanding, Harry." Dumbledore explained patiently. "He's attempting to recruit in all of the modernized countries. Sending you to a Wizarding town would be no safer than keeping you here—more dangerous, possibly, because there you won't be able to recognize the faces of your enemies. And sending you to a non-modernized country would just be plain dangerous, seeing as many of the Wizarding tribes in there are still nomadic and constantly feuding. No, a muggle community will do you some good."

Harry disagreed, but couldn't argue with the headmaster's logic. "Fine." He said almost petulantly, "Muggle community, no magic. Got it."

Dumbledore looked at Harry critically. He leaned back in his chair and the atmosphere in the room immediately relaxed. "I see this is a lot to take in. I do have some more news for you, news that you won't like. But let's talk more tomorrow, alright? I think you've had enough bombarded on you today."

Harry nodded and headed out the door, his mind racing. Just before leaving, he paused and turned around. "Can I tell my friends at least?" He asked hopefully. At Dumbledore's sad shake of his head, Harry sighed and made to leave again.

"Harry," Dumbledore called him back. Harry turned his head, looking over his shoulder at the professor. "If you could, please pack your things tonight… I know this isn't much heads-up, however since this is an emergency situation, I will need to get you out of here as soon as possible. "

Harry nodded, understanding, but not liking the situation one bit.

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A/N: Reviews are always welcome!

I will now take this opportunity to shamelessly advertise: if you enjoyed this chapter than please visit Elumicis' **Luna Mendax**(see my author's page for the link to Elumicis). It's Harry Potter fic taking place in the time of the Marauders, co-authored by me!


	2. New Identity, New Life

A/N: First of all, thank you for all the people who reviewed in the last chapter! You guys are awesome~! Special shout out to my first reviewer on this fic, mdemanatee!

**Just one quick note about the town Celina, Ohio (****Spoiler alert**** for Glee season 2, episode 20 - Prom Queen)**: Since I wanted to keep this fic as cannon as possible (well, Glee!cannon, not HP!cannon), I need to make Blaine first go to a public high school that is NOT McKinley, but is near Dalton. In "Prom Queen", Blaine had this whole thing about the Sadie Hawkins' dance at his old school, and then "running away" from his school bullies, but the school was never named. So I went on Google Maps, chose a town near Westerville and Lima, and ended up with Celina (it was the least weird name on the list…).

BUT, thanks for all the reviewers who commented on all my mistakes! Please continue to correct whatever you think might be off—especially because you're usually right. I think I've fixed the last chapter now…

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The next day, Harry appeared in Dumbledore's office after escaping his friends in lunch. He felt guilty for lying to them—he said that he was leaving for training and would not be back soon. They had been upset, understandably, asking why it was so sudden, or if they could visit him occasionally. He had replied negative on both accounts, which upset them even more.

As he reached the gargoyle, it sprung open, inviting him in. Harry entered and heard it shut closed behind him. He knocked on the door to Dumbledore's office, and once he heard a "Come in", he entered.

There, Professor Dumbledore was sitting with two strangers, a couple, so it seemed. All three were staring at Harry as if weighing to see how prepared he would be for the task ahead.

"Harry, my boy, please come sit." Dumbledore said. "Lemon drop?" He offered before Harry had even finished sinking into the chair.

"No thank you, sir." Harry said. He looked at the two strangers openly. "Are these my new parents?"

"Yes, Harry. These are Everett and Cristina Anderson—they're squibs, though very well versed in escaping detection. The Andersons have been hiding from Voldemort since the First War due to familial connections and the like. They will teach you all you need to know to take on your new identity as a regular American student."

Harry smiled politely and greeted the two, noting how their features could somewhat be correlated to his own. The man, Everett, was a tall brunet male with dark, curly hair and could possibly pass as Harry's father. The woman Cristina, on the other hand, was short and asian, perhaps Filipino—someone who Harry would never choose to play the role of his red-headed mother. However, her slight stature and heart-shaped face might be enough to persuade any doubters that they were related.

"Now Harry," Dumbledore said, drawing back his attention, "you will need to undergo some lessons and physical changes in order to pass as an American student. First of all, you will be playing the role of a 15 year old boy. No offense intended, but I think you could pull that role off rather easily, given your stature."

Harry was slightly affronted that Dumbledore was implying that he, a sturdy 17 year old, could still pass as a 15 year old. But he understood what the headmaster meant—the malnutrition he suffered from as a child definitely stunted his growth. He wasn't as vertically gifted as most of the other boys in his year (and he was beat by many of the girls as well).

"Everett and Cristina will be giving you lessons on how to obtain an American accent given that no magic is allowed to be used on or by you at all. At this point, we can't even tell if Voldemort has gotten the tracker on your wand, as Severus said he was attempting to do."

"But what if I'm attacked?" Harry protested immediately, "In the case that the Death Eaters do find me, isn't it better that I keep my wand with me at all times?"

"I'm afraid your wand will have to stay here, with me." Dumbledore said, shaking his head. "The tracer that Voldemort may or may not have will act as a type of GPS system. If we keep the wand here, then if he tries to find out where you are, it will look like you're still in Hogwarts."

"But my friends already think I'm leaving for training." Harry said, trying to find some reason to keep his wand. "What if the Death Eaters find out? They might be suspicious."

"There are plenty of rooms that you could possibly be training in." Dumbledore countered easily, "Many rooms that your friends do not know about."

Harry fell silent, understanding that he had lost the argument. But… parting with his wand? Not being able to use magic for an extended period of time?

Dumbledore took his silence as agreement and continued on, "So on what you will also need to know… you will need to catch up in subjects that muggles generally consider important, such as science, math, American history, and the like. I have given the Andersons the liberty to teach you whatever else they may see fit."

At this, Harry bit his lip, holding back a comment. He really did despise it when Dumbledore dictated his life without asking, but it was for "the greater good", so he would have to deal with the treatment for the moment.

"You will be provided with colored contacts and muggle makeup to cover up your most distinct features, namely your eyes and your scar. I will contact you when we are ready to have you back. Until then, you must not have any connection with the Wizarding World at all. If Voldemort gets wind of your hiding spot, you'll be a too easy target with all the Order members still stuck in Britain."

Harry was still not satisfied. "And how long will it take before I'm allowed to return home? A month? Two months?"

"I don't know, my boy." Dumbledore said with a heavy sigh. "If you remember what we discussed earlier, you would know that my task is a challenging one." Harry knew—gathering up and destroying all of Voldemort's hidden Horcruxes is a daunting task, one made worse because Voldemort had made so many.

"And if I'm found by Death Eaters?" Harry asked. "I won't have anything to defend myself with."

"If, by any chance, the Death Eaters get even close to your location, I will station an Order member near you in case of attack." Dumbledore explained patiently. "So you don't need to worry about anything. Any more questions? Everett, Cristina, do you have any questions for me or Harry?"

"No, Headmaster." Cristina said. She looked at her husband, but he had no questions either.

"Excellent." Dumbledore said, satisfied that they were going along with his plan so easily. He had expected at least an explosion or two… "So Harry, you are now Blaine Anderson, a freshman in Celina's public high school. Everett and Cristina will help you fully develop your cover; might I suggest you teach him American football? Try to stay out of trouble and out of the limelight. The quieter you are, the better off you'll be in the long run."

Dumbledore began shuffling through the papers on his desk. Finding what he wanted, he handed a manila folder to Everett. He continued, "Here is his passport, and included is his new birth date that takes into account his supposed age. Also, there are faked medical records, school records, and other legal documents. There shouldn't be anything missing, but I advise you check it over to make sure. Harry, you won't be starting school until next September, but I think it is best to send you off now, so Everett and Cristina can began your tutoring. Please say your goodbyes tonight, and then bring your bags down to my office at 9:00. Then, I will have a Portkey ready to transport you to your new home."

Harry exhaled. This was it; he was finally going to leave England for the first time in his life. When he was a child, he had always dreams of visiting the exotic locations, like the Dursley's did yearly during the winter holidays, but never had he imagined it would be through a situation like this.

In a few hours time, he would be leaving his old life _entirely_, starting off anew. Harry couldn't help but be excited to get away from the increasing pressure from both the public and his friends that had been burdening him ever since after his fourth year. It was ironic that he would be playing the role of a 15 year old boy, which was the age when his life had started to fall apart.

"Blaine Anderson," Harry whispered the name softly as he lifted up his suitcase, placing it softly on the four-poster bed so he could finish packing. He looked around, making sure no one was near. "Blaine Anderson." He repeated, louder. He smiled—Blaine Anderson sounded like an ordinary kid. Albeit he was muggle, which did mean that Harry would have to go magic-less for… possibly many years, but still. An ordinary life with ordinary parents and ordinary friends. It was like a dream come true for the war-battered Harry Potter.

"So you're leaving tonight, huh?" Ron asked from the doorway. Harry turned his head, not pausing as he folded up his invisibility cloak and stuffed it at the bottom of the trunk.

""Yeah," he replied softly, smiling sadly at his best friend.

"Can you tell me anything about where you're going?" Ron asked tentatively, sitting down on his bed to look at Harry.

"No, Dumbledore said I would be training in a secret location." Harry replied, ashamed for having to lie to him straight up in his face. Training camp? More like witness protection program.

Ron smiled grimly, "Okay, I understand. As long as you'll be safe, that's fine with me."

"Ron…" Harry said, his voice almost breaking. This was his best friend, the one who had stayed with him through thick and thin. They may have had their problems in the past, but Ron had been a constant presence in his life ever since he started living in Hogwarts. Now, he was going to start a whole new chapter of his life… without Ron there by his side. The thought was somewhat intimidating, and Harry said so out loud.

"Well mate, new things are always somewhat scary." Ron said, sounding too wise for his years. He had been forced to grow up, as had many of the students of their generation, by the death and destruction that littered the daily newspaper. His family didn't even manage to stay intact during the war—Percy was off making eyes at Fudge, while Bill and Charlie were kept constantly busy with Order missions. The war was penetrating everywhere, even places where it had no business being.

Harry snapped his trunk closed sharply. He had packed everything: robes, books, gifts, even the hand-me-down rags he had gotten from Dudley. Of course, he didn't expect to be able to _use_ anything where he was going. Celina, Ohio sounded way too non-magical, not to mention non-British, for his old possessions to ever fit in.

"You're leaving now." A female voice stated, oddly calm. Hermione walked into the room and sat down next to Ron, looking at Harry sadly. "When will we see you again?"

Harry sighed, shaking his head helplessly. "I don't know." He stated simply, staring listlessly at his packed trunk. "Dumbledore said it could be months, probably years, before the Order collects and destroys all the Horcruxes. Until then, I would just be a burden in need of protection." His voice rung hollow as the three stared at each other morosely, taking in their last moments together.

"Remember our first year?" Hermione asked, with a nostalgic smile. Harry smiled; she always knew when he needed a different subject to take his mind off the problems of the present. "Who would have thought that trio of troublemakers would end up where we are now? It's amazing that we managed to pull through all those obstacles, but we did."

"We were a bunch of stubborn brats." Ron laughed. "Stuck our noses into somewhere they didn't belong. We still do, in fact. Guess we haven't learned our lesson."

"Guess not." Harry chuckled. The conversation died down, but the warm atmosphere stayed. Harry stood up and squeezed his way between his two best friends. "I'm going to miss you guys so much." He said, his voice cracking as he tried not to cry.

Hermione squeezed his hand tight. "Don't worry, we'll help Dumbledore find those Horcruxes and destroy them. You'll be back by Christmas, just you see."

"Yeah mate, no evil Dark Lord will keep us apart." Ron vowed, clenching Harry's other hand tightly.

"I hope so." Harry said softly, imprinting the warmth of his two friends into his mind. They sat there for minutes, hours maybe, just soaking in each others' presence. When they finally pulled apart, it was past dinnertime and the sun was long gone.

Harry cast a quick _tempus_, and swallowed hard when he realized that it was time. "I need to go now." He said lowly.

"We'll see you soon, okay, Harry?" Hermione reassured him, hugging him tight. She let go, and Ron stepped in immediately afterwards.

He gave Harry a slightly awkward, but very manly hug, whispering in his ear, "We'll always be here for you."

Harry could feel the tears threatening to fall. "I love you guys." He said plainly. He took a deep breath and regained his composure. With one last smile at the two, Harry Potter stepped out of their lives and into his future.

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A/N: Sorry, I just couldn't leave out Ron and Hermione. After all, what's an HP fic without the Golden Trio?

I've currently written up to Chapter 7, but I'm warning you that Kurt won't appear for a while! Harry first has to turn into Blaine, and then he has to get to Dalton, join the Warblers, and establish his confidence in his homosexuality. So yeah… Kurt's joining us in Chapter 8! Probably…

And then from there it'll basically be 1-2 cannon!episodes per chapter (don't worry, it won't be "copy down from the episode and post here", it'll have to do with Harry Potter). After that: VOLDEMORT! Yeah, I have this all planned out, don't worry!

**BONUS QUESTION**: So who can tell me where I got the names Everett and Cristina Anderson from? There's a prize for the first person who answers correctly!


	3. Celina High

A/N: Congratulations to **Mordanyes** for being the first to get the bonus question right! Kudos to **Nightfire k'Vala** who also got it correct, but sadly not in time. Everett is Darren Criss' middle name (he's the actor who plays as Blaine in Glee, if you didn't know), and Cristina is just a play on his last name.

The mysterious prize was a one-shot written about whatever the winner requested, _or_ the incorporation of an idea into this fic at some later point. For all you guessers who didn't get it (or didn't get it in time), don't worry! I'll have many more opportunities for you later on!

And shout out to **RunningRiver14**, whose many reviews are always anonymous so I can never reply! Just know that I love your reviews (thanks for checking out Luna Mendax too!) and I very much appreciate your support.

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**Chapter 3: Celina High**

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"Harry, are you ready?" Dumbledore asked seriously, holding a rusted teakettle in one hand. Harry nodded, feeling oddly numb now that he was actually leaving. He eyed the teakettle—a Portkey. Dumbledore continued, "The Andersons will brief you when you get to your new home. Harry," Harry snapped his eyes back to meet Dumbledore's. "Good luck."

Harry nodded tersely, unable to think of anything to say to the man who played both his guardian and his puppeteer. So without a further word said, Harry placed his finger on the teakettle and familiar _jerk!_ of the Portkey. He landed clumsily, barely managing to hold onto his trunk as they landed in an empty room that was decorated only with a fireplace. Immediately after landing, Everett strode forwards and gathered up a pinch of Floo Powder.

"What are we doing?" Harry asked, confused. Weren't they supposed to be at their new "home" now?

"Professor Dumbledore doesn't want anyone to track the Portkey to our new house. He sent it to transport us here instead, so we can finish our journey through the Floo system, which is much harder to trace. Luckily for us, the Floo network _does _work for us 'lowly' squibs." Cristina explained, with a slightly teasing, slightly self-deprecating smile. She picked up a pinch of Floo powder as well. She gestured for Harry to do the same

Everett cleared his throat. "Well, let's go, then." He said, not waiting for a response before he shouted "Phoenix's Nest" and disappeared into the flames. Harry followed, now more than ever acutely aware that he had barely even spoken to these new people who were to become his "parents".

He stumbled and almost crashed into Everett on the way out from the fireplace. Harry coughed, embarrassed, and shook off the ashes that still clung to him. The house was quaint, and quite muggle, he noticed. It reminded him of the Dursley's house—very suburban and picturesque—although the Andersons' house was much, much larger. He was standing in the living room that was complete with two couches, a coffee table, and a flat-screen television set. Off to his right he could see the kitchen and a dining room, both which were considerably larger than the norm and decorated quite lavishly. Harry got the impression that the Andersons' were not lacking in money—assuming this was even their house, of course. It could just be on rent by the Order, for all Harry knew.

"Well, Blaine," Cristina said, testing out the name of her new son. She smiled awkwardly, "Would you like to get acquainted with your new home? We can begin lessons tomorrow; you just unpack and make yourself comfortable. There's a trap door at the bottom of your closet to put all your magical belongings there."

"Yes, thank you Mrs. Anderson." Harry said.

"Call me Mom, now, dear. You're my son, remember?" She smiled at him and then shooed him off upstairs.

Harry picked up his trunk and began heading down the hall. He passed by a bathroom, two closets, and what seemed to be a study of some sort before reaching the stairs. Lugging up the suitcase behind him, he climbed the stairs and found himself in a hallway that led to four rooms. One of them he found to be another bathroom, and another was the master bedroom. He directed himself towards the door that hung a sign that plainly said "Blaine", and opened the door.

His new room was spacious enough; easily twice as large as his old bedroom at the Dursley's. A four-poster bed dominated the center of the room—probably chosen as a comforting reminder of the life he had left behind. He opened his trunk, gazing at the trinkets he had stuffed inside. It was depressing to find that everything was too magical to be allowed a place inside his new muggle room. Harry sighed, closing the trunk again. He would have to stuff all of his belongings under the closet, a very symbolic gesture considering he was leaving his old life behind as well.

He lay down on his bed, closing his eyes, exhausted. He had just arrived and already he was tired from the move. Not to mention, it was close to 10:00 at night back at home (it's not home anymore, he reminded himself cynically), even though it was only 5:00 here. Before he knew it, Harry drifted off to sleep, dreaming of the world that he had claimed _his_ ever since he was a child.

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It was a small and rather industrial high school, this Celina High. Blaine stepped through the main entranceway for what seemed to be the hundredth time. It was late November, months into his journey at the muggle school. His life had become somewhat of a routine: wake up in the morning, throw on some clothes, head off to school, go back home, sleep. Of course, he shouldn't be complaining. Isn't this what he's always wanted, after all? A nice, normal life?

At times, the homesickness would hit him hard. He would wonder what Ron was doing, or Hermione, and if they missed him as much as he missed them. He had never been away from them this long—nearly a year had passed now without a word from the Wizarding World.

Throughout the summer, he had been intensely tutored. Suffice to say, he had successfully learned the American accent, the courses, and the culture. He was as much of an American muggle as he had been a British wizard.

As a new student, Blaine could say that he was not involved in any of the major cliques in his school. He was friends with some of the boys around, but not close enough that people considered him "one of them". Blaine thought he was blending in perfectly.

Today was just another ordinary day. Nothing special, though people were getting excited about the coming holidays. It was strange getting accustomed to a new set of holidays—Thanksgiving was actually quite an experience. He had never known much about American holidays, and now he was getting a hands-on lesson.

As Blaine wandered towards lunch, he was pulled aside by one of his closer friends: Flint. He had been the first person to befriend Blaine back when he was the new kid of Celina High. Blaine couldn't say that they were as close as he and Ron had been, but he did consider Flint one of his closest friends at the school. However, Blaine would soon find out that his "friend" would be the one to start a whole chain of events that would force him out of Celina High.

Blaine, however, was oblivious to the future comings as Flint pulled him into an empty classroom. Before he could ask what was going on, Flint was already speaking.

"Blaine, I'm sorry for this, really. I wasn't going to say anything…" Flint mumbled awkwardly, almost to himself. "It's just really hard, you know? Knowing something but not being able to talk about it…"

"What? What's wrong?" Blaine asked, confused. "Are you in some kind of trouble?"

"No, it's not that…" Flint responded, "I'm just… Sorry, man, but this has been really bugging me for a while and I just have to ask."

Blaine raised an eyebrow. "Okay, then, ask away."

Flint licked his lips nervously, "Well okay then. So this first started when I saw you acting kind of… differently. Don't take this the wrong way, but you kind of speak strangely. It's not an accent, per say, but… I don't know, it's like you're trying to cover up a lisp or something. And then there's also been people commenting on how you stand too _close_ sometimes, when you're talking. And sometimes you just _stare _at me, and it's kind of strange. Plus, there have been rumors, man… And I know they're not true and all, but I just have to ask…"

"What is it?" Blaine asked, still bewildered as to what was going on. All he heard was a jumble of words that didn't make any sense. Staring? Lisping? What was he even saying?

Then, without any further ado, Flint blurted it out. "Blaine, are you gay? I mean, all the signs are there, and some people have been talking about you and me, that we're _like that_, you understand? So I just have to make sure that you're _not_, so I can just continue on my day without these ridiculous worries."

"What? You think I'm gay?" Blaine repeated disbelievingly. "I act a little bit differently and you automatically jump to _gay_?"

"Yeah, man, otherwise why do you speak so strangely, and why else would you stand close to me?" Flint asked, looking at Blaine expectantly.

Whenever he reflected back at the moment, Blaine found his past self completely stupid for not realizing that Flint had just wanted him to give an excuse. He hadn't cared for the truth, just some reason to return to his normal life.

But then, Blaine had panicked. What could he say? There were no good reasons for having a different accent—especially because he was supposedly born and raised in America. And the close proximity thing… was there even an excuse for that besides culture shock?

Flint was waiting anxiously, wringing his hands as Blaine stalled. Blaine looked nervously at Flint's expectant face, his mind still trying to come up with a doable reason. He, however, couldn't find one, and he knew that the silence was only making Flint more suspicious.

"The reason why I act so differently..." Blaine said slowly. He shook his head; he couldn't think of anything.

"You're not gay, are you?" Flint asked hopefully. "You were just… born and raised somewhere else, in a different country. And you're ashamed of your accent."

"No!" Blaine said a bit too loudly. "I was born and raised in America. I act strangely because I'm gay."

"You don't mean that…" Flint said, giving Blaine one more chance to make up an excuse.

"Yes, I do. I'm gay, not a foreigner." Blaine said stubbornly. It was one thing to admit to being gay, but another to say that he was born in another country. That would open up a whole can of worms that would screw with his cover story—and Dumbledore had already arranged it all: baby pictures, childhood artwork, and family albums. Saying that he was from a different country, in a small school like Celina High… that would attract questions that Blaine wouldn't be able to deal with.

"You're not gay."

"Yes, I am." Blaine insisted. "And I've always thought you were attractive!" He lied.

"Blaine, you're supposed to _deny_ it. Don't just say you're gay, just like that!" Flint hissed, looking at the door nervously.

"But if you already know, then how am I supposed to deny it?" Blaine countered, at the time not really understand the prejudice against gays.

"I don't know," his friend said frustrated, "Go beat up some fags, sleep with a girl, anything! Just don't make me the guy who hung out with the faggot! Oh god, you've been perving on me this whole time, haven't you?" Flint exclaimed, his personality making a complete turn. Blaine blinked, astounded by the sudden change in his friend. Flint continued, "Man, this is your entire fault. You should have just told me from the beginning and then this whole mess would never have happened! There might be rumors about _me_ now!"

Without waiting for a response, Flint stormed out the door. "Flint, wait!" Blaine cried in vain. What had that been about? Sure, he had just admitted to being gay (although he really wasn't… probably), but that was such an overreaction…!

Suddenly, it dawned on him. Oh Merlin, this was the muggle world. They were a lot less accepting of homosexual couples than the Wizarding world had been. He would no doubt fact a lot of prejudice from the homophobic people. Blaine sighed, rubbing his temples. This would be bad… but he could deal with it.

XXX

The next day the entire school knew that the new kid, Blaine Anderson, was gay. And just like that, his life did a complete 180. By lunchtime, all of his so-called friends had loudly and publicly denounced their relationship to him. All day, he was avoided in the cafeteria, shoved in the hallways, and harassed during class.

By the following month, he was receiving threatening messages on his desk. It also didn't take long before his locker was being swamped with scraps of paper that simply stated "Leave, Fag" or "Gays aren't welcome".

He didn't tell Everett or Cristina; he had dealt with much worse in the Wizarding World, especially during his fifth and sixth years when the Wizarding World was in denial of Voldemort's return. At least then the threats actually mattered—here, he wasn't fazed by the hatred of total strangers. If they had been his friends, the issue may have been different. Luckily for him, his former friends of Celina High were just avoiding him, instead of partaking in the harassment. That, however, was the only bright point in this cycle of bullying.

He tried going to the teachers when the bullying got worse. They had listened, patted him on the head, and sent him on his way. Then he had tried talking to a guidance counselor. He had just been patronized there and shipped off with a pamphlet in hand.

Eventually Blaine gave up on adults. They couldn't do anything for him. After taking another month worth of bullying, it was only natural that during the Sadie Hawkins dance, Blaine took the chance to peacefully fight back against the rampant homophobia he had encountered. He asked the only other gay guy out to the dance, really as friends but he made it appear like so much more. He didn't think the other students would do anything to them in front of all those teachers.

Well, he was right. They didn't do anything while in front of adults. Instead, Blaine and his "date" had gotten beaten up while waiting for a ride home. When Blaine had woken up in the hospital the next day, his parents were right there, with news of his transfer.

"But I can't just _leave_ because of a little bullying," Blaine protested from the pristine white hospital bed.

"Blaine, you have three bruised ribs, a broken arm, and internal damage that the doctor wouldn't even describe to us! This isn't just some petty schoolboy fight." Everett said. He lowered his voice, peering over his shoulder to make sure nobody was nearby. "You're in the Muggle world now, and these things don't vanish after a week of healing."

"I know that," Blaine said angrily, "but transferring me to this _Dalton_ would just be like admitting that they've won!"

"Blaine, sweetie," Cristina said, her face still red from crying, "please, I know you have some issues with what you see as 'running away'. And I know this just seems like a repeat of your first few weeks with us when you said the same thing about your… departure from your old life. But for my peace of mind at the very least, could you transfer to Dalton? I couldn't bear it if the next time you ended up in a coma, or _worse_!"

Blaine looked down and hoarsely asked, "Why do you care so much? I'm not even your real son. I've _seen_ the pamphlets we've been getting from Dalton and the tuition is so expensive! And I know Dumbledore isn't paying you as much anymore ever since the war started going poorly, so _you'll_ end up having to pay all of it…"

"It isn't just a matter of money, Blaine." Cristina explained, gently taking his hand. "We're your parents now, and we love you like you're our real son. That won't go away just because of some high tuition."

"Besides, do you really think we'd suggest anything we couldn't afford?" Everett asked with a smile. He ruffled Blaine's messy hair. "Blaine, whether you like it or not, you're going to Dalton."

XXX

A/N: I know that someone covering a gay lisp and someone covering a British accent wouldn't sound the same (well, I don't know what either sounds like, but I'm pretty sure it would sound different), but... suspension of belief? And I do know that not all gay men talk with lisps. Just take it as part of Flint's homophobic ignorance.

I'm not a huge fan of this chapter, but ehhh… I had to get Blaine into Dalton _somehow_, and I didn't want it to take too long. But Dalton is next chapter, so be excited!


	4. Dalton Academy

A/N: So I'm moving off to college on Friday. I'm both nervous and excited at the same time—it's supposedly really stressful there, and I hope I have time to keep on writing! Regardless, this fic will be continuously updated around once a week. I have enough to last until the beginning of November if I update once a week, and I plan to crank out another few chapters before I go so that November is done as well. Then I'll have Thanksgiving break to write some more, and then back to school! God, just planning this out sounds busy…

And for the record, I checked and Kurt _is_ appearing in Chapter 8. It ends up I was spot on!

XXX

**Chapter 4: Dalton Academy**

XXX

"Blaine, it's your first day of school!" Cristina said, knocking loudly on her son's door. Blaine groaned, turning around to press his face into his pillow. Time had passed by so quickly since he had arrived. It was now his first day of school… again.

"Blaine!" Cristina knocked on the door again, but didn't open it to give him some semblance of privacy. "Dalton Academy is waiting!"

"I'm up!" Blaine shouted back, tossing back the covers. It wasn't' really that early in the morning, so Blaine was oddly alert for a day of school. Dalton was unique in its school hours: it started at 9:00 because many of its students drove a good hour to get to school every morning, and ended at 5:00 so their parents could easily pick them up. Granted, that meant more hours of school than a public school would have, but he really had no choice if he wanted to get away from all the harassment.

Blaine's first task in the morning, after taking care of all his "morning needs", was to cover up his scar. This was a process that had taken him weeks to master, but now he could proudly (or not) say that he was a professional when it comes to concealer.

After that, he popped in the brown contacts that would make him just another brown haired, brown eyed American boy. His glasses were shoved down in his trunk, along with everything that came from the Wizarding World. It was still sad for him to remember all that he left behind, but he was slowly coming to get used to this new, peaceful, suburban life. Here, he could almost forget that his friends were risking their lives daily in a war against Voldemort.

He paused at the door when he looked in the mirror at his messy mop of hair. Dalton seemed a lot more formal than his previous schools. He had seen the Dalton uniform before, and it was basically a suit. Blaine ran a hand through his hair. He had let it grow out for a while, and now it was doing some weird curling action. No, that wouldn't do. Not for the first day of school at least. Blaine opened the bathroom cabinet and grabbed a barely-used container of hair gel. He had used the gel on his hair once—during the dreaded Sadie Hawkins dance that ended him up in the hospital.

Though the night had ended poorly, Blaine's date had commented that he looked a lot better with his hair out of his face. Blaine took a handful of the gel and resolutely spread it over his head. He _needed_ to make a good impression in this school. He couldn't mess it up again and burden Cristina and Everett again.

The end product completed the change from Harry to Blaine. Harry was the one with the mop of hair that fell in disarray over his forehead. Blaine, however, was smooth with his gel-slicked hair. Blaine belonged in Dalton like Harry never would, and this transformation gave Blaine a boost of confidence that he would be able to fit in to Dalton Academy.

Back in his room, Blaine slid on his Dalton uniform. That was the one thing he didn't really like about his new school: the enforced dress code. While still in muggle public school, Blaine reveled in the variety of clothing choices he had. Having been denied a varied wardrobe his entire life—yes, seven sets of identical Hogwart's robes didn't count as "variety"—he almost worshiped in the different colors and styles that made up muggle clothes.

Everett, his dad, said that it was really strange to see a teenage boy planning out his clothing as meticulously as Blaine did, but Everett accepted it as another Wizarding quirk that he would never understand. Squibs they may be, but the Andersons definitely embraced the muggle side of life, and in turn were quite ignorant about the everyday life of wizards.

When Blaine had donned the Dalton blazer, he rushed down the stairs to cram breakfast into his mouth before leaving. At the beginning of their "arrangement", he had been hesitant on infringing on the Anderson's privacy—this _was_ their house, after all, and he _was_ their guest. But after a week of impeccable manners and treading on the thin line between familiarity and politeness, Everett had finally snapped at him to just behave like he was their son. Granted, Blaine was still cautious about not being a burden, but he was much more relaxed about his behavior around his parents.

"Ready for school, champ?" Everett asked, glancing over his newspaper at Blaine. He was dressed in a suit that looked awfully hot for the warm temperature outside.

"Nervous," Blaine admitted, cutting through a slice of French toast. "I really hope I don't screw something up again."

"You'll be fine." Cristina reassured him, brushing off non-existent lint from his blazer. It was a daily ritual for them both now: Blaine would sit there patiently while Cristina would primp her new son for school. It comforted him that their routine didn't change simply because he was switching schools.

It was actually somewhat of a wonder how easily he had incorporated into their lives. There was no fuss, just a general acceptance that they would be a family from then on, until Dumbledore told them to stop, that is. But even then, Blaine was pretty sure they would still remain friends, at the very least.

"Well, if you're all set, I'll drive you to school." Everett offered. Blaine nodded, chugging down the rest of his orange juice.

Blaine still didn't really know what his parents did for a living; he knew Cristina worked at some hospital, while Everett was a high up executive of some company. Whatever they did, Blaine was very fortunate that they had enough money to send him to a very expensive private school. Since he had to keep out from the Wizarding World, the Andersons were really stuck paying for everything by themselves. Though he was pretty sure Dumbledore had paid them some amount of fee (Blaine really hoped the money came from the Potter vaults), surely that money couldn't pay for the thousands of dollars they had invested in his tuition at Dalton.

Either way, since Everett was the one with the more flexible work hours, he was the one assigned to dropping Blaine off in the morning usually. Blaine quickly hopped into the passenger seat of the car, and tried to calm his nerves on the long drive to school. Everett said nothing on the way there, letting the sound of the radio fill up the silence instead. Blaine was thankful; he was too busy with his internal worries to talk to anyone right now.

Nearly an hour later, Everett pulled up to the academy. Blaine grabbed his bag, gave a quick "Thanks!" to Everett, and slid out of the car. He looked up at the school, noting the various students greeting each other already. That was one of his main issues about this new school: everyone already knew each other and had made their respective friends. After all, school was well under way, seeing as Blaine was transferring late in the semester.

Blaine nervously entered the school, looking around with wide eyes at the high ceilings, classical décor, and the glittering chandeliers. It was such a posh school, and it reminded Blaine somewhat of Hogwarts. Dalton too had large portraits along the walls as well, and they used electric scones that mimicked the torches in Hogwarts. Not to mention everyone was dressed in the same uniform, which was a very familiar experience for Blaine. He spotted many people with hair gelled like his was and instantly felt like he fit in.

Blaine followed the rush of students down the main hall. He was to head into the main office to get his schedule and mentor… yes, there was a sign clearly pointing into a room with class windows. Blaine threaded his way through the crush of people and managed to pull open the door and squeeze inside.

"Hi, I'm Blaine Anderson." He said, acting as calm as he could. He tried not to show his jittering knees to the receptionist. "I'm a new student here and I was told to get my schedule from the office."

"Yes, of course. Please step into the office off to the side," The secretary said, motioning off at an opened door, "and the lady inside will take care of you."

"Thank you," Blaine said with a smile. When he stepped into the office, he was quickly greeted by a blonde woman in a simple office suit.

"You're Blaine Anderson, aren't you?" She said with a smile. She held out a packet to Blaine, which he took. "I hope you have a better time in Dalton than you did in your other school. I'm not sure of the specifics of your situation, but we do get a lot of students who want to escape from the problems of their old school."

"Thank you." Blaine said softly, already feeling at ease in this new atmosphere.

"Well then," the lady said, "inside that packet you will find a map of the school, your class schedule, and a list of all the clubs that we offer. Besides a place of refuge, Dalton is one of the most esteemed schools in the country. We have many activities that I'm sure you will find of interest. To help you out at the beginning, the school has assigned you an upperclassman mentor." She motioned and an Asian boy stepped through the door.

"Hi, I'm Wes." He greeted Blaine, looking oddly mature for his 16 years of age. "I'm a sophomore this year and I'll be showing you around the school."

"Blaine." He returned the greeting, holding out his hand to shake.

"Well," the lady intercepted with a smile, "I'll let you two go along on your business. You're always welcome to talk if you have any questions, Blaine. Now shoo now, you both have classes to be attending to."

Wes led him out of the main office. Since first period was already in session, the halls were deserted, allowing Blaine a clear view of his new school.

"So, you're a transfer student, huh?" Wes said conversationally as he led Blaine down the long, confusing hallways. "Where are you from?"

"My parents live in Celina," Blaine said, "and I used to go to the Celina High School. There were… issues and I transferred here to get away from it all."

"Ah," Wes said knowingly, "don't worry, a lot of people transfer to get out from some sticky situations. I have a couple of friends who came specifically for the zero-tolerance policy and nothing else. Some public schools are really disgusting in the way that they do nothing when they find a student being harassed in school."

"Yeah," Blaine agreed, not wanting to reiterate on the subject.

"I'm sorry," Wes said sincerely. He stopped by a closed door. "It'll be much better here, Blaine. Trust me on this. Anyways, I have to get to class as well. I'll meet up with you after the bell rings and I'll show you to your next room too, okay?"

"Great, thanks Wes." Blaine said with a polite smile. He entered the classroom, instantly intimidated by the mass of people. He held onto his smile, however, and tried to project a calm, confident demeanor. This was a new school, but he couldn't let them get to him the way the kids at his old school had. He would present a self-assured, unflappable image; he would be someone who couldn't be hurt by any prejudice.

"Hi, my name is Blaine Anderson. I'm a transfer student and I was told to come here for first period." Blaine said, his face completely composed. A wall of politeness, that was how he planned on defending against their attacks. If they never saw insecurity, they wouldn't know how to attack.

"Oh," the teacher said, flustered, "I forgot you were even coming! Please pardon me…" She checked her attendance sheet, "yes, Blaine Anderson. There's an empty seat behind Nick—Nick, wave your hand."

A brunet near the back waved his arm lazily. Blaine maneuvered through the rows of desks, holding his head up high in front of his new classmates.

As the teacher turned towards the whiteboard to begin her lecture, Nick held out his hand to shake. "Nick Duval, nice to meet you," he said with a friendly smile.

Blaine smiled back politely. "Nice to meet you too."

"Tell me if you need any help getting around this school. I know it can be big and confusing, especially for someone new here. Give it about a week, and you'll grow to love it." Nick said, his head ducked low so the teacher couldn't see him talking.

"Thanks," Blaine said. They were unable to talk any further after the teacher split them into groups to discuss the book that they had been assigned.

"Blaine, I understand it if you haven't read the novel yet." The teacher pulled him aside as everyone shuffled their desks into small circles. "You don't need to worry about it. You'll have plenty of time to catch up to everyone else. Now, why don't you join Nick's group and get to know some of your classmates?"

Blaine nodded and scooted his desk so it was included in the misshapen circle that clustered near the back corner of the room.

"So Blaine," a boy with dyed blond spoke up first, "where are you from?"

"Celina, Ohio," Blaine answered. From the corner of his eye, he saw the other students also turn to look at him. "There were some… troubles at my other school, so I transferred here."

"That's saying it mildly: 'troubles'…" a red head mumbled from a few desks down.

"You don't have to worry about any of that." Nick said comfortingly, "A lot of us come from public schools as well."

"Yeah," the blond chimed in again, "I did. The name's Jeff, by the way. I transferred here at the beginning of the year. I was harassed for being gay, and my old school just didn't want to do anything about it. So finally, my parents got fed up with their inaction and sent me here." He shrugged, seeming completely at ease despite just admitting to his homosexuality.

Blaine stared, a bit dumbfounded as none of the other boys reacted to his statement. Maybe this would be a place of acceptance, or at least not outright discrimination.

Jeff saw Blaine's bewildered face and quickly said, "Of course, you don't have to explain why you're here. I'm just saying that Dalton is totally different from all of those public schools. I mean, if I could be accepted here as openly gay, then you could be accepted for whatever else people were teasing you about in your old school."

"Uh, thanks." Blaine said, still taken aback by the open-mindedness of his new school.

"Boys, as nice as it is that you're taking some time to talk to Blaine, you really do need to discuss last night's reading." Their teacher cut in, smiling slightly at them. Really, they were such sweet kids. Dalton wasn't a regular school—not in tuition and not in its policies. She knew many students who had come from schools where they had been bullied, sometimes very severely, and had found their safe haven in Dalton.

"Er, so yeah… who read last night?" Nick asked, looking around the circle.

"I sparknoted," One boy offered. Blaine saw the teacher roll her eyes in exasperation.

"Hey, talk more with you later?" Jeff said, nudging Blaine in the side as the other boys began discussing the book. Blaine nodded, smiling slightly. All right, so maybe Dalton _wouldn't_ be so bad.

XXX

A/N: Nick and Jeff are the two people that Kurt competed against for the solo (and lost to. Yeah… that was an awkward episode…). I don't know much about them cannon-wise or fanfiction-wise, so I'm just making their personalities up as I go.

Bad news guys, I'm in a bit of a slump right now so I'm not writing as many chapters as I usually do. And that stinks because I only have today and tomorrow to write, and then school will take over my life. Usually posting a chapter gives me some inspiration, so let's hope so. But either way, please help to motivate me by reviewing!


	5. The Warblers

A/N: It feels like I've been in college forever, but it's only been a week. It's a strange phenomenon. It's really fun, though! And the people are generally very nice! BUT I don't think I'll have time to write while courses are in session. Good news, though: I've finally seen an actual acapella group perform! There's actually a ton of them here, and most of them do modern music like the Warblers do!

**Music for this chapter:** Fireflies by the Warblers. Open it up in a different tab and listen to it when the lyrics appear later on!

XXX

**Chapter 5: The Warblers**

XXX

"Hey, Blaine, over here!" Nick shouted from a table in the Dalton cafeteria. Blaine looked at Wes hesitantly, wondering if it would be impolite to just leave his mentor. His decision was made when Wes began to walk over to the waving boy.

"I see you've met Nick." Wes said with a wry smile, placing his tray down at the table. He slid down into a seat next to an African American kid. Blaine sat down as well, though in a seat across from them.

"So you're the famous Blaine, huh?" The African American kid asked with a wide grin. "Wes was talking about you before, and then Jeff and Nick said they'd met you too. It's like you're just destined to be in the Warblers!"

"Warblers?" Blaine questioned, biting into his sandwich. He saw Nick, off on the other side of Jeff, heave a sigh.

"You know, we don't have to talk about the Warblers _all_ the time." He said exasperated.

"We talk about other things!" The African American boy defended. "Like football, and classes…"

"Yeah, but _most_ of the time we're talking about which competition seems the fiercest, or what songs we should perform, or who the new Vocal Adrenaline lead singer is. And now, here comes the new kid and in your first sentence you mention the Warblers!"

Blaine was very confused now, and he turned to Wes for an explanation.

Wes finished chewing on his bite of rice noodles and spoke up, "The Warblers is the name of our choral group. It's kind of odd that you made friends with only Warblers, as of yet, because we only have 14 members in the entire school."

"I say it's destiny." The African American boy said resolutely. "Blaine must be _meant_ for the Warblers! How about an audition tomorrow afternoon?"

Wes raised his eyebrow and turned to Blaine, "That's David. He's a bit of a nutcase, but he's alright. You can ignore him sometimes—only half of what he says should be listened to anyways."

"I'm the nutcase?" David asked, petulantly snatching a shrimp from Wes' plate. "We'll see what Blaine thinks when you're in Head Warbler mode. _That's_ creepy." David informed them seriously. "And you're not even in the council yet!"

"But I _will_ be." Wes said. "Next year, when I'm a junior. Watch when it ends up I'm promoted and you're not; who's going to feel sorry then?"

"And David, stop pushing people to audition!" Jeff scolded. Another brunet boy next to him, one whose name Blaine didn't know yet, nodded in agreement.

"And who are you?" Blaine asked the brunet.

"I'm Thad," the boy said, cheerily reaching a hand across Jeff's plate to shake that of Blaine's. "I'm the one who makes lunch about more than just the Warblers."

"So you're all in this elite choral group?" Blaine reiterated. All of them nodded their heads proudly. "And what do you do, sing and dance?"

"Mostly singing," Thad admitted, "and swaying in the background. We're an acapella group, so we tend to be more… traditional in our dance moves. That's really why we haven't gotten to Nationals yet. Our singing can beat most other groups, but the dancing… not so much. And since we recently switched to the Glee circuit of competition, the dancing is somewhat important now."

"None of us know how to dance, you see." Jeff said. "That's why we don't really have choreography. Our current Head Warbler tried teaching us some basic moves off the internet, but most of us are just better off keeping our feet on the ground." He shrugged.

"Uh huh…" Blaine said, remembering his disastrous dance with Parvati during the Yule Ball. He jumped when the school's bell rang, echoing off the tall walls of the cafeteria.

"Well, time for the next class." Wes said, gesturing for Blaine to follow him. "Biology is next, isn't it? I doubt you'll find Nick or Jeff _there_. They tend to avoid sciences altogether, though it's not really an _option_ at this school…"

"Hey, could I sit in on one of your Warbler meetings?" Blaine blurted out. He was surprised himself at the question, but found himself eagerly waiting for the response.

"Sure," Wes said, happy that his protégé seemed so interested in the Warblers despite seeing how strange they acted when together. "We have a meeting tomorrow, right after school. I'll pick you up after class, okay?"

"Thanks, Wes." Blaine said with a grin. Great, now he had something to look forwards to! He never really listened to music before, besides what was playing on the radio. He had no music knowledge besides that, not in the Wizarding World nor in his last high school. This would be an experience, to say the least.

XXX

"Warblers, Warblers, settle down!" Wes said, banging his gavel against his desk. Blaine sat stiffly off to the side, noting that Wes did look a bit intimidating acting all Head Warbler at the front of the room. It seemed he picked a day when the _actual _Head Warbler was sick or absent or something. It apparently happened often, that Wes had to take over for him, because everyone quieted and looked at their leader respectfully, "We have a visitor today," Wes said, inclining his head towards Blaine. "Mr. Anderson here will be observing us today, so I expect you to all be on your best behavior."

Blaine nodded politely to the group, feeling slightly uncomfortable in the tense atmosphere.

"So today we're to decide the song selection for our next Dalton performance." Another Warbler began, ruffling through a stack of papers in front of him. "Our options are _Battlefield_ by Jordan Sparks, _Use Somebody _by Kings of Leon, and _Waking Up in Vegas_ by Katy Perry."

Blaine recognized most of the song titles from listening to the radio, where they played over and over again until he practically memorized the lyrics. But, he found it quite… odd that an acapella group would be performing such recent songs. And the songs were all by girls too, he noted. Blaine sat up straighter as the Warblers quietly conversed and chose a song.

"Well then, _Use Somebody_ it is." The Warbler said, making a note on his paper.

"Alright, everyone get into _Fireflies_ formation! We have a performance in a week and the harmonies aren't quite there, people!" A different Warbler said, ushering the group into the open space at the center of the room. Blaine turned in his chair, watching as the boys fell in line easily, all of them suddenly taking on more mature and serious expressions.

The room was silent, and then one boy in the back began to hum. Blaine watched in wonder as the entire room began to harmonize with him, creating the beginning tune of the song. His attention was caught as a tall, dirty blond in the back began to sing.

_You would not believe your eyes_

_If ten million fireflies_

_Lit up the world as I fell asleep_

'_Cause they'd fill the open air_

_And leave teardrops everywhere_

_You'd think me rude_

_But I would just stand and stare_

Blaine marveled at the way they just made the song just fit. It was definitely different than the original; it was softer and possibly more emotional. And that boy's voice… at first it sounded very rocker-ish to him, but he did make it work, and very well. Blaine saw another nameless Warbler begin to sing in a low voice.

_I'd like to make myself believe_

_That planet Earth turns slowly_

_It's hard to say that I'd rather stay_

_Awake when I'm asleep_

The dirty blond, who seemed to be the main singer in the song, chimed in for the last line.

'_Cause everything is never as it seems_

Wow. Blaine had never imagined that acapella could be used for pop songs. The two just seemed so… different. But the Warblers, he could see why they often placed in competitions.

'_Cause I'd get a thousand hugs_

_From ten thousand lightning bugs_

_As they tried to teach me how to dance_

_A foxtrot above my head_

_A sock hop beneath my bed_

_A disco ball is just hanging by a thread_

_I'd like to make myself believe_

_That planet Earth turns slowly_

_It's hard to say that I'd rather stay_

_Awake when I'm asleep_

'_Cause everything is never as it seems_

_When I fall asleep_

The song ended then, and all in unison the Warblers stopped singing and bowed their head. Blaine leapt to his feet with applause, and some of the Warbler members broke into grins.

"That was so awesome!" Blaine said as the Warblers returned to their seats. Wes waved them off, indicating that practice was over for the day. "Where do you get the sheet music for acapella pop songs? I didn't know that even existed!"

All the Warblers except Wes, David, and Thad were leaving the room by now. So it was Thad that responded, "Well, that's exactly it, thereisn't a great variety of Top 40 acapella songs. It's just not the in thing right now. I mean, there's _some_, but not a lot."

Blaine furrowed his eyebrows, and opened his mouth to speak. David cut him off, giving a bemused glance at Thad. "What he _means_ is that Thad's the one who does all the harmonization and sheet music. This guy here is a musical genius—he can hear a song one and create the Warblers a masterpiece!"

"Wow," Blaine said breathily, "no wonder you used to be the best choral group in the country. Now I'm really wondering why you switched to the Glee circuit at all!"

Wes shrugged, "We wanted a challenge. Besides, performing isn't only about singing, there's also dancing involved most times."

"_And_ we were too bored of being at the top all the time." David said with a wink.

Wes hit him in the side of the head with his gavel. "That may be true, but you're not allowed to _say_ it." Blaine laughed at their antics, watching the stern Warblers begin a tickle war.

"Say Blaine, if you love the Warblers so much, why don't you try out?" Thad asked.

Blaine paused, never having considered singing before. "I don't know…" He said slowly, "I've never really sang before. Sure, sometimes I'd hum a song that got stuck in my head, but I'm not even the sing-along-to-the-radio type of guy. I wouldn't know where to begin."

"That's okay," David said, surrendering to his mini-war with Wes. "We can help you pick a piece and you just have to sing it for us. No training required; you only need to have a good voice. We'll help you from there."

Blaine bit his lip. Should he? This was running into unfamiliar waters—back at Hogwarts he had never _ever_ sung, seeing as the Wizarding World wasn't the most musically inclined. There were only a few wizard singers; most people figured that their talents should be spent in more practical places, like at a hospital or in the Ministry.

"Come on, Blaine, it would be so fun," David wheedled. "All of your friends are already in the Warblers, and you like what we do…"

"And you wouldn't have to sing solos," Wes added, "Actually, you'd have to fight for a solo in the first place, so unless you really wanted to do one then you would never have to sing alone."

"It's like a really fun bonding experience." Thad said, seeing Blaine's resolve weaken.

"Alright, fine, I'll audition." Blaine said, amidst cheers from his friends. "But don't think I was kidding about being clueless when it comes to music. If I end up being tone deaf, then it'll be you who suffers."

"Great, we'll help you pick a song so you have an edge on the competition." Thad said cheerily.

"You know, you're right on time for the half-year auditions. We only hold auditions two times a year: one at the beginning of the year, and one after mid-terms. You have no idea how many Warblers we've had drop after being taken out by their parents for failing a mid-term exam…" Wes exclaimed, horrified by the very audacity. "Some students are only here for studies, so their parents believe that if their schoolwork isn't up to par, then they don't deserve to sing!"

"It's crazy to see a Warbler denied music because _one_ failing mark on _one_ test!" David agreed vigorously. "The Warblers are a way of life, and they shouldn't be placed below _anything!_"

Blaine gave a short, disbelieving laugh. "Wow, you guys are sure intense about this Warbler stuff."

"Oh trust me, you have no idea…" Thad mumbled.

XXX

A/N: The next update is going to be between Friday and Sunday. It depends on how people comment on my fic *wink wink*. No, I'm kidding; I'll try to update whenever I have the time. I never imagined that I would spend this much time studying… it's crazy! It's a good thing I _like_ to study, or else I would die. But the campus is "gorges" (sorry, couldn't help it… Can you guess where I am?) and it's always sunny here, for some strange reason, so it's a great place to live.

Who watches or reads in the BBC's Merlin fandom? I just got randomly inspired by a prompt to do a bit of Arthur/Merlin. I love that pairing so much! Maybe I'll write a one-shot and post it on here. If you _don't_ read Merlin fanfics, DO IT! Arthur/Merlin is the most adorable couple ever, and it's kind of cannon too! I swear they only make Arthur take off his shirt in front of Merlin because of fanservice!

There was a lot of editing done to this chapter, so if you see any inconsistencies, tell me!


	6. Auditions

A/N: Someone's blasting country music from their dorm… I'm not saying I hate it, but it's kind of weird. Here's the next chapter. Anyone excited for Labor Day? Yay, no school! Not that we really need a break… it's only been 2 weeks, not even.

And thanks to Eryk Lestrange who reminded me that people were actually waiting for this update (hard as it is to believe…).

**Music for this chapter:** Not Alone by Darren Criss

XXX

**Chapter 6: Auditions**

XXX

Blaine fidgeted nervously on the wood seat of the bench. This was the most anxious he had ever been for anything. He _never_ performed in front of people, let alone sang. Yes, he should be used to being in the middle of attention, but not like this…

A time had passed and it was time for Warbler auditions. He was 9th in the line of 15 boys trying out for the elite choral group. He was actually quite surprised that so many people had showed up. Dalton Academy, as a private school, only had around 250 students in total. And from that total, most of the students were dedicated more towards academics than to the arts. Blaine had expected maybe 5 others at the audition at most, maybe 10. But 16 boys in total, that just showed how popular the Warblers really were at Dalton.

Blaine couldn't be reassured that he would be picked, despite being friends with all three boys on the Warbler Council. The voting was based on the scores of _all_ the Warblers in total. The boy with the highest cumulative score would be chosen as the newest Warbler member.

He didn't have any more time to fret because a boy was at the door, calling his name. "Blaine Anderson, come right in." The boy said, a clipboard in his hand.

Blaine stood up nervously and smoothed out the lapels of his blazer in an attempt to calm down. Yes, he could do this. He had practiced this song at least a dozen times over the past few days. While he didn't know if his voice was any good, he could at least say he would be giving his best in front of the Warblers today.

He walked in to see the last performer leaving the stage. The Warblers applauded politely, though Blaine saw that Jeff and Nick were slouched down low in their seats, obviously bored by the long process. They sat up straight and waved at him when they saw him, though.

Blaine strode up to the platform, entering the bright lights that beamed down on the center of the stage. He then bent down to speak into the microphone. "Hi, I'm Blaine Anderson," he introduced himself in a low voice, "And I'll be singing Darren Criss' _Not Alone_."

The piano music began, played from the Ipod speaker in the corner. Blaine closed his eyes briefly, and then opened them as he began to sing.

_I've been alone_

_Surrounded by darkness_

_I've seen how heartless_

_The world can be_

_I've seen you crying_

_You felt like it's hopeless_

_I'll always do my best_

_To make you see_

Blaine smiled slightly as the chorus began. He had originally chosen this song because it was more emotional that the other songs that had been offered to him by Wes and David. Instead of the typical pop, this song had true meaning that he could feel while he was singing.

_Baby you're not alone_

_Cause you're here with me_

_And nothing's ever gonna bring us down_

_Cause nothing can keep me from lovin' you_

_And you know it's true_

_It don't matter what'll come to be_

_Our love is all we need to make it through_

_Now I know it ain't easy_

_But it ain't hard trying_

_Every time I see you smiling_

_And I feel you so close to me_

_And you tell me_

_Baby you're not alone_

_Cause you're here with me_

_And nothing's ever gonna bring us down_

_Cause nothing can keep me from lovin' you_

_And you know it's true_

_It don't matter what'll come to be_

_Our love is all we need to make it through._

Blaine finished the song, smiling into the enthusiastic applause that came from his audience. He wiped his forehead of the sweat that had accumulated as he stood under the glaring lights of the stage. He was quickly ushered off the stage by another Warbler member, unable to even fully look at his friends' faces before he was left in the waiting room once more.

A part of him wished he could have sung the entire song like it was written to be sung. However, the Warblers were on a short time schedule, and with so many applicants, Blaine understood why the songs had to be cut short.

The wait after his audition was less tense than the one before it. At least now he knew that he didn't _completely_ blow his audition. If he didn't make it into the Warblers… well at least he tried. It wasn't like he was planning on becoming a big shot Broadway star who _needed _to sing or he would die. No, this was only meant to be a fun, casual experience. He, however, couldn't say the same for the rest of the contestants. They all looked mildly frightened and very nervous. Blaine leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes to wait for the results.

Finally, the last prospective-Warbler finished his song and returned to the waiting room. The door was shut and the 16 boys were alone. They all stared anxiously at the door, waiting tensely for the results.

After what seemed like hours, the double doors of the Warblers practice room opened. The same boy waved them back in, and they filed in one by one to stand in front of the Warblers to await the outcome.

Wes stood up solemnly, looking over all of the applicants. Blaine wondered where the _real_ Head Warbler was, seeing as Wes was always standing in for him.

Wes was oblivious to the morbid thoughts running through Blaine's mind. Instead, he was dramatically beginning his speech. "We've made our decision." He said, "I must say that all of you gave it your best effort, and many of you did indeed impress us. However, there is only one available spot on in the Warblers and only one of you stood up above the rest. Before I announce our newest member, let me say that all of you are certainly talented, and we would love to have you try again during the next semester's rounds of auditions. So, without further ado, our newest Warbler is…" He paused, letting the anticipation rise.

The boys leaned forwards, praying for their own name to be called. Blaine could feel his heart pounding in his chest as Wes continued to pause for a good few seconds. He couldn't even think about what would happen if it wasn't his name that was announced. He didn't know _why_ he felt so nervous as he did right now—it was just a singing group—but he _did_. Blaine clenched his fingernails into the palm of his hand.

Wes looked at them, letting his eyes rest on every single on of the candidates. He finally got tired of sadistically making them wait, and he exclaimed, "Blaine Anderson! Welcome to the Warblers, Blaine!"

The room burst into polite applause, though the other applicants definitely looked disappointed that they weren't chosen. Blaine blinked. What?

Wes continued, "Thank you all for your performances. It was a tough choice, and we thank you all for your participation." With that unsaid dismissal, the room began to clear out of people, all talking.

"Congratulations, Blaine." Wes said, approaching him.

Blaine still had a dumbfounded look on his face. "You chose me? Why?" He asked. His singing wasn't _that _good… Surely it was average for all boys his age.

"Blaine, you were so awesome!" Jeff said, jumping into the conversation without heed. "Seriously, man, why didn't you tell me you had a voice like that?"

"You could be our next lead singer!" Nick said, "You know, with a little bit of training, I mean. You could bring us straight to nationals!"

"Now you're just saying that…" Blaine mumbled, overwhelmed.

"Great job, Blaine!" David said, joining them after apologizing to some of the more upset potential recruits. "I didn't know you had it in you."

"Neither did he," Wes said with a dry grin, "Our Blaine here doesn't think he's that good."

"No way…" Thad said, completing their little circle of friends. "You seriously don't know how good you are? Your voice is like… like butter—smooth and soft yet so very delicious."

"Careful Thad, or we might start to think you're gay too." Jeff said jokingly. Thad rolled his eyes, but didn't retaliate.

"I'll try to do you proud, then." Blaine said resolutely. If his friends really thought he was _that_ good—though he really did think they were just saying it to make him feel good about himself—then he would try hard not to disappoint. Look out world, Blaine Anderson was now a Warbler.

XXX

The months passed by rather happily for Blaine. He grew closer and closer to his chosen group of friends, and didn't encounter one bit of harassment from his peers. In fact, everyone was so supportive of each other, it was almost unreal. If someone had told Blaine that the whole school was under a compulsion to behave, he would have believed them. But as he didn't sense any magic… well, he was just going to take Dalton as an unbelievable, yet completely real, paradise.

So there naturally came a time when the topic of how Blaine came to Dalton arose. They were seated around a table, just hanging out and de-stressing from the rigorous academics of their school.

"You don't have to tell is if you don't want to." Thad was reassuring him after prompting the discussion.

"No, I'll tell you." Blaine said. It would be unfair not to tell them, and it wasn't like he really had something to keep secret. He knew that Dalton was not like Celina—people weren't openly homophobic or anything, but rather they were very supportive. Having hung out with Jeff a lot, who was openly gay, Blaine had noticed that nobody seemed to treat him differently. He himself often forgot that Jeff was even gay, well, until he saw him obsessing over the newest line of some fashion designer or other (and yes, he was very aware that he was playing up to stereotypes).

Probably the only reason Blaine hadn't brought up the topic was because he wasn't sure what to say when they asked him if he was really gay. He had given the topic much consideration ever since he "admitted" to his homosexuality at Celina, but how did one even go about discovering their sexuality? He certainly had never been seriously attracted to a person—sure there was Cho, but that was a shallow crush back when he was in the midst of puberty. Besides that failure of a romance, he had absolutely no experience with… well, anything!

But being in doubt of one's sexuality is not a reason to avoid talking about it with tolerant friends. So Blaine reclined in one of the plush chairs in the lounge area outside the library and began to talk. "My story is a lot like Jeff's." He began, "one of my friends thought I was gay, and then he spread a rumor around the school."

Jeff nodded, as Blaine licked his lips and continued. "For the next weeks, I was bullied pretty severely for supposedly being gay. My parents didn't know anything about it because I thought it wasn't bad enough to complain about."

He hesitated. He didn't really want to go into the gory details. It was bad enough experiencing it once without recounting how it felt. Blaine decided to brush through the story rather than go into details. "It wasn't until I was badly beaten that they decided I should transfer here, to Dalton." Blaine shrugged, "And that's that. The short version at least."

His friends were silent for a moment, and then Nick asked, "What do you mean you were 'supposedly gay'? _Are _you gay?"

"I don't know…" Blaine said slowly. "How do I tell? I mean, I haven't been attracted to many girls in my life, but neither have I been attracted to boys. Wouldn't that indicate that I'm asexual?"

"No, that just means you haven't met the right person yet." Jeff answered softly. The other boys turned to him, hearing his serious tone of voice. Truthfully, they had never really talked about the issue of homosexuality. They had just accepted it as a part of Jeff and moved on. So nobody, with perhaps the exception of Nick, really knew Jeff's whole story.

"Is that how you found out?" Blaine asked. "You met someone?"

"Yeah…" Jeff said, his eyes misty with remembrance. "I mean, it's not like we're together right now. He doesn't even know I like him. But I just knew that I was gay the moment these feelings started to evolve. That was also around the time when I realized that I had never been attracted to the female body."

Nick touched Jeff's arm gently, as to give him silent support. Jeff smiled at him, and continued, "I guess the moment that you find yourself falling in love is the moment that you can really confirm your sexuality. Until then, it's just a matter of thinking and seeing what you truly want."

Blaine nodded, putting his words to heart. "Thank you, Jeff. You gave me a lot to think about."

"It's nothing," Jeff said with a smile, "as long as you remember to tell me if you're really gay. Then I can start indoctrinating you in the marvels of fashion."

David rolled his eyes. "And here I thought you were against stereotypes, Jeff."

"Yeah," Jeff agreed, "but fashion is always an exception."

"Of course," Nick said with a sigh. Being Jeff's closest and oldest friend, he knew all too well about his friend's obsession. "And if Blaine ends up not being interested in fashion?"

Jeff looked offended. "How could he not be interested in fashion? Actually, how could _you_ not be interested in fashion? I saw it—you used my latest issue of Vogue as a mouse pad last time you came over to my house! Really, Nick?"

"It's not my fault," Nick defended, "It was _right there_, and how was I supposed to know you hadn't even opened it yet? All of the magazines look the same!"

Jeff opened his mouth in affronted shock. "How _dare_ you…!" He said dangerously soft.

"Whoa there…" Thad said as Jeff attempted to reach over him to strangle Nick. "You two are in public—the librarian is _right there!_—at least wait until we leave school to kill each other!"

"Or they could, you know, just go to any of the empty study rooms in this school. There's plenty to spare. Jeff could kill Nick there and nobody would know." Wes said absentmindedly, playing with his phone.

"Don't encourage him!" Blaine groaned, laughing as Nick slapped the hand that Jeff had extended near his neck. "Especially not while you're sexting with your girlfriend!"

"We're not sexting." Wes said, his face flushing. "She's just telling me about her day. And _I'm_ telling her how my friends are all crazy."

"You can't say that after you just told Jeff to kill Nick in one of the secluded study rooms." David said, also busy with his phone.

"Ahhh, you two with your steady relationships," Nick bemoaned, "If only I had a pretty girl to flirt with over text too!"

Jeff grinned at him, though Blaine did notice that his smile seemed a bit strained. "Why, do you have your eye on anyone yet?"

"Nah, not after the horrible fiasco with Jessica," Nick said, waving his hand casually. "I mean, there was Lindsey, but she had a boyfriend already. And I'm pretty sure Maria and Jeanette were dating each other, not that I wouldn't mind joining…"

"You're such a player," Thad said laughingly. He shoved Nick playfully, "Save some for the rest of us!"

"Can't do it." Nick said mock-sadly. "My beauty is just too unparalleled for girls to resist. Right, Jeff?" He nudged his friend.

"You wish!" Jeff responded, a bit halfheartedly. He looked down at his feet as the boys around him continued to joke about Nick's love life.

Blaine noticed something off about Jeff during the conversation. He furrowed his brow and watched Jeff for a little while. He seemed have withdrawn a bit from the conversation once they started talking about Nick's love life. Blaine lost his train of thought as Wes prodded him to emphasize a point. When he looked back at Jeff, the strange look on his face had left and he was laughing like he always was. Blaine brushed off the thought, giving it no further attention.

XXX

A/N: GLEE IS BACK IN 17 DAYS! WHO'S EXCITED? Still no Kurt in this chapter. At this point in the story, it's still Season 1 in Glee!verse, so Kurt is foolishly pining after Finn at this point. Yeah, that was an awkward part of the series…

Thanks for everyone who reviewed! And now, if you can just review _again_ that would be great!


	7. Intermission Has Been Moved

A/N: The Intermission chapter has been moved to my new, separate **Intermission Series **fic! The Intermission Series are one-shots that take place in a universe where Harry is Blaine, but they don't follow the Abluvion plotline. Go check it out there!

And I'm pretty sure I can't delete this chapter. I think it messes up the format later on (aka if you reviewed for Chapter 10 then you can't review for Chapter 11 because it's "the same chapter" according to ). I tested this on an old account… and then forgot I hadn't saved the chapter I deleted! So oh woe is me, a fanfiction from when I was 13 (which wasn't half bad, although the A/N's there were really embarrassing) has now been half destroyed!


	8. Bryan Ryan

A/N: GLEE IS BACK IN 2 DAYS! I won't be able to watch it until Friday, though, because of exams. I swear life hates me—I'd been waiting for Season 3 for the entire summer and then my professors decide to screw me over. Sigh.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter! Actually, I just hope you still remember what was going on…

XXX

**Chapter 7: Bryan Ryan**

XXX

"Nick, don't think I can't see you lip synching," Wes barked out from in front of the Warbler practice room. "And Flint, you've been flat for the past song and a half! Blaine, your harmonization still needs a bit of work. Come on, people, summer break may be starting tomorrow, but that doesn't give us a reason to slack off!"

Blaine sighed softly, rubbing his forehead. It was the last day of school and they were stuck in Warbler practice. Usually this wouldn't bother him, but he had been feeling more and more insecure about his vocals as the year passed on.

While he had improved considerably over the last few months—learning how to read the music notes, how to sing through his diaphragm, and how to not be so obnoxiously loud that he overpowered everyone else—there still needed to be a lot of work until he fit into the Warblers. Everyone else had at least a little bit of musical background: Thad's father was a professional composer, and Jeff had been playing the piano since he was 6. Even Nick had a cousin who was a country singer.

"Alright, Warblers, I'll see you next year." Wes finally said, dismissing them all. The Warblers shuffled out the door, pulling off their blazers and ties as they did in preparation for the scorching heat that waited outside.

Blaine waited for Wes and David to finish packing their things, and joined them on the way to the front of the school.

"Hey guys, I was thinking about getting some vocal lessons during the summer," Blaine said tentatively, "and I was wondering if you knew anyone who could help me?"

"Vocal lessons?" Wes asked, his eyebrows raising. "Very admirable, Blaine. If only the rest of the Warblers believed in such dedication…"

"Wes, they're not that bad." David said with a sigh. "I told you not to hold practice on the last day of school."

"And as my future second in command, I do value your opinion," Wes said sincerely, "but we have to think ahead. If we want to beat Vocal Adrenaline, the Warblers need to practice any chance they get!"

David decided not to comment. Blaine cleared his throat, "So, any suggestions?"

"Let's see…" Wes said, "I think Andrew went to some guy near Lima—Bryan Ryan, was his name. You could try going there first. I'll ask Andrew for his number and you could give him a call."

"Yeah, thanks, that would be great!" Blaine said, grinning. He saw Everett's car waiting in the parking lot to pick him up. "Hey, see you next year, okay?"

"Yep, bye Blaine!" Wes and David called out as Blaine ran over to the car.

As Everett pulled away from Dalton, Blaine watched it grow smaller and smaller until he could no longer see it. He turned back forwards in his seat. Well, one year was over with. It had been hectic, but this past year in muggle school had definitely been an experience. And now it was time for a new stage in his life: now he was going to learn how to properly sing.

XXX

"Hello?" Blaine asked, knocking politely on the wooden door. He was in a small apartment complex in the town of Piqua, checking out the vocal coach, Bryan Ryan. At first his parents had been hesitant to pay for such expensive lessons, but a lot of pleading and explaining that this was his _first real hobby_ (besides Quidditch, which didn't count because _that_ was practically a way of life), ended him up here, about to meet this famed vocal coach.

A handsome, blond man opened the door. "Hi, you must be Blaine! My name is Bryan Ryan." He greeted with a charming smile.

"Ah, yes." Blaine responded, stuttering slightly. He was taken aback by the sudden thumping of his heart as he looked at the startlingly attractive man. He swallowed thickly, trying to get his voice to come back.

"Well, come right in, the studio's to your left." Bryan said, opening the door wider. Blaine stepped inside and took in the cozy living room. It looked like a total bachelor pad—though a musician's bachelor pad, seeing as there were music sheets strewn across the room. It was very homey, at the very least—very lived in. Bryan led him into the door off to the side. They entered a moderately small studio, though it did have a piano and a guitar resting in one corner.

"Please, take a seat." Bryan said, gesturing to a chair. Blaine obeyed, watching the other man wander around the room, picking up music sheets as he went.

Blaine couldn't stop from staring as the man walked around the studio. He had never felt this way before—this thumping in his chest, and the anxious, need-to-please feeling that consumed his mind. What did it all mean?

"I'll just get right to it because you're paying by the hour." Bryan said, placing a folder down on the table. "Now let's see… we first have to see how good you are vocally…" He said, partially talking to himself. The next question was clearly directed towards Blaine. "Have you ever had private lessons before?"

"No," Blaine said. Bryan nodded to himself and picked up a book as well.

"So Blaine," Bryan said, sitting down in the chair across from him. "What I'll be teaching you this summer is basically how to be a good performer. You'll definitely be learning how to properly sing, but I will also teach you how to engage the audience in your performance. I assume you know how to read music." At this, Blaine nodded. "Very good then, let's see how you do so far." Bryan gestured for him to sing the music in front of him.

Blaine nervously picked up the sheet of paper and began to sing. Almost immediately, Bryan stopped him. "No, no… sing from your _diaphragm_. And sit up straight, it'll improve your breath."

Blaine started again, fixing all that Bryan had told him. At the end of the short song, Bryan was nodding his head slowly.

"You have a good voice, I'll give you that." Bryan said, "But you're sometimes flat and I think you could project a lot better. But nevertheless, I think that if we work hard, we can get you into top shape. Are you involved in any singing group in your school?"

"Yes, I just joined the Warblers, an all males acapella group." Blaine responded.

"Acapella…" Bryan said with a smile, "Wow, you sure start strong. Me, I was in a regular Glee club for a few years before I even attempted acapella."

"It's not too bad for me," Blaine said modestly, "I get a lot of help from the upperclassmen."

"But you'll want to be a soloist someday," Bryan said, bringing them back to the topic at hand, "so let's start." Bryan picked up the guitar off the floor and began to tune it. "Turn to sheet number 2 and sing along while I play. I'll fix you as you go."

Blaine nodded, trying to calm down his nerves. What was with him right now? He was just taking singing lessons from a handsome man. Albeit, a handsome man that made his heart beat and his palms sweat. Blaine didn't know what was going on, but he knew someone who might.

XXX

When Blaine got home that day, he immediately called Jeff. That odd feeling that he had with Bryan Ryan… it was oddly reminiscent of his feelings for Cho. But that couldn't be right… he had done some thinking, and he was pretty sure he wasn't gay. Right?

"Hello?" Jeff said when he picked up the phone.

"Hey Jeff, it's me, Blaine." Blaine responded, flopping down on his bed. "Hey, I have a question. You know how I was meeting the vocal coach Bryan Ryan today, right?"

"Yeah, the one Andrew is always talking about. I heard he was going to be in the Piqua production of _Jersey Boys_. I tried to drag Nick to see it, but he didn't want to."

Blaine paused. "Ok…"

"Sorry, we were talking about you, weren't we? You were saying?"

"Well, I was just concerned because I always feel this weird feeling in the pit of my stomach whenever I see him. And then my palms start sweating, and I keep on feeling this need to _please_ him, you know? It kind of reminds me about a crush I had on this girl at my old school, but a lot more intense." Blaine explained.

"So you called me because you thought you might be gay." Jeff deduced. He paused for a long moment, mulling it over in his mind. Blaine waited anxiously for the verdict. Finally, Jeff spoke, "It could be a crush," he said slowly, "or it could just be admiration. Either way, this doesn't mean you're gay, Blaine. Don't worry about identifying yourself as 'gay' or 'straight', just be yourself and see where it goes."

"Well, it wouldn't _go_ anywhere even if it were a crush…" Blaine mumbled. "I'm pretty sure he's got a girlfriend. I saw a few couple pictures when I got a glimpse of his living room."

"So? It doesn't hurt to look," Jeff said conspiratorially. Blaine laughed softly with him, happy to get this off his chest.

"Thanks, Jeff." Blaine said sincerely. "I'm glad I have a friend like you to talk with. I don't know what I would've done otherwise…"

"Well, if you talked to Wes or David then they'd just tell you to stop ogling your teacher and focus on your studies."

Blaine laughed, "They would, wouldn't they?"

Through the phone, Blaine heard a distant voice cry out. There was a muffled reply—Jeff probably covered the mouthpiece. Suddenly, Jeff was back on the line. "Sorry, Blaine, I have to go. My mother wants me to pick my sister up from day care."

"Alright, talk to you soon then."

"Yeah, bye. And remember, don't worry about the labels. Just see what you feel next time you have lessons and go from there."

"I'll keep that in mind. And I'll be sure to tell you how it goes."

"You'd better." And with that, Jeff hung up the phone.

XXX

"You're a little bit sharp on that note, try it again." Bryan said from next to Blaine.

Blaine sung it again, this time focusing on hitting the note exactly. It was a month into his private lessons with Bryan Ryan, and his feelings were still there, lingering in the back of his mind. Blaine knew he was definitely crushing on his vocal teacher, but he was realistic enough to know that nothing would come out of it.

"Great, perfect!" Bryan said as Blaine finished off the song perfectly. "Now, have you been practicing those performance tricks I taught you? Remember, a good singer must also be a good actor. The audience has to _feel_ what you're singing, first and foremost, before they can appreciate the actual music."

"Yeah, I think I've got it down." Blaine said.

"Alright, stand up on the stage and I'll play you some music. Make me feel the song, Blaine." Bryan said, moving over to the stereo in the corner. The music began, and just as Blaine was about to sing, a phone rang from another room.

"Oh, I'm really sorry," Bryan said, pausing the music. "I'll quickly get that and we can continue with the lesson. Until then, just try to get into the mood."

He hurried out of the room. Blaine heard the phone stop ringing and Bryan answering the phone.

"Yes, this is him." Blaine heard from through the door. He tried to tune out the conversation by doing some breath exercises, but Bryan's voice was eventually too loud to ignore.

"What do you mean? …But our cast has been working on this production for the past three months! You can't just _cancel _it… Yes, I understand that you need to sell tickets to keep the investor happy, but… No, I won't accept this! All those months spent practicing, and you won't even let us do one show?"

Blaine winced as Bryan began to curse wildly into the phone. The door to the studio reopened, and Blaine looked down at the microphone pretending he hadn't heard anything.

"Argh, that lousy, money-lusting…" Bryan muttered to himself, storming back in. He looked at Blaine, who was holding the microphone with one hand. Bryan clenched his teeth, looking like he was holding back a comment. Blaine opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but Bryan cut him off. "Just sing, Blaine." He said, in a tone totally unfamiliar to Blaine.

Blaine furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, but began anyways. Throughout the opening verse, he watched Bryan pace around the room, ruffling his hair with his hands. His rage finally peaked when, halfway through the song, the music stopped.

"No, I can't do this anymore." Bryan said angrily. "I can't just keep on teaching you like you'll actually have a future doing this. Do you know what the chances are of you making a living off of music? None! Especially not in this god forsaken town. I'll tell you what, Blaine; you should be spending your summer studying instead of learning how to sing. At least that way you'll have a future as a lawyer, or a doctor, or whatever pays well these days!"

Bryan strode out from the room, leaving Blaine dumbfounded behind him. Blaine tentatively placed down the microphone and followed his teacher out of the studio and into the kitchen.

"Are you alright, Bryan?" He asked softly, trying not to rouse the anger of his vocal teacher anymore.

"No, I'm not _alright_, Blaine." Bryan spat, cradling his head in his hands. "Can you please leave? I don't want to do this with you anymore. You'll have to face reality some time—no matter how good your voice might be, singing won't pay the bills, and it won't satisfy your parents, and it won't provide for you fiancée! Just…" Bryan sighed, seeming to suddenly deflate.

"Do you want me to leave?" Blaine asked hesitantly.

"Yes. Please." Bryan said sincerely. "I'm sorry, but I don't think I can do these lessons with you anymore. Just hearing you sing reminds me of myself when I was younger: full of hopes and dreams that I could conquer the world."

"You still can," Blaine responded earnestly, "conquer the world, I mean. You're an amazing performer—everyone says so! Just because you're a bit older and you just lost your job doesn't mean you're any less talented."

Bryan chuckled dryly. "Talented doesn't do anyone much good, does it?"

"Maybe if you checked the bulletin boards of other towns; I heard there was an audition in Lima—"

"No, Blaine. It's over." Bryan said, looking up. "It's over for me. And you. I can't give you any more lessons, Blaine. I promise I'll refund you in full, just… get out."

Blaine swallowed, searching Bryan's eyes. They were so… defeated, like there was nothing left in him. Maybe he didn't understand the situation, but he didn't understand why Bryan would react so explosively like this. Blaine didn't want to just let this go, but he knew now wasn't the time to argue. He nodded and picked up his stuff. And then, with one last glance over his shoulder, Blaine left.

XXX

"And then he told me to leave, so I did." Blaine was explaining his whole experience to Jeff over the phone.

"Have you tried calling him?" Jeff asked.

"Of course, but he hasn't been picking up…" Blaine said softly. He played with the little Warbler keychain hanging off his phone. "Hey, Jeff?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't think I like him anymore." Blaine said softly.

There was a pause. "Why not?"

"Well, I think it first started when I found out he was straight. And as I got to know him better, it just began to fade. Especially seeing how he reacted today. When I think of him now, I don't feel anything anymore. Does that happen a lot?"

"Yes, quite often." Jeff responded, "Crushes always go away like that, especially ones that we aren't very emotionally vested in. It's quite depressing to think people can fall in and out of 'love' so easily, but I guess that's just human nature."

"Oh." Blaine said. "Well either way, I think I'm gay."

Jeff paused. "Oh? What makes you say that?"

"Well, I was shopping with my mom the other day, and I suddenly realized that I was checking out the guys that passed by. Is that weird?"

Jeff laughed into the phone. "No, it's not _weird_. It's perfectly normal, Blaine, at least for me. My guess is that because of your crush on Bryan, your brain suddenly realized that guys could be a romantic option as well."

"Huh." Blaine said. "So I'm gay."

"What did I say about the labels, Blaine?" Jeff asked, exasperated. "But yes, I guess if you _did _want to label it, I would say you were gay."

"Oh," Blaine said shortly. "Cool."

Jeff laughed, "Yeah, cool. Don't worry, I'll introduce you to the finer points of homosexuality. Like fashion. And muscle magazines."

Blaine laughed nervously. "Um, you really don't have to…"

But it was too late. He could almost _hear_ the gleam in Jeff's eye as he plotted out what to show him. "Don't worry, it won't be any trouble for me." Jeff reassured him.

"That's not what I was worried about…" Blaine mumbled.

XXX

A/N: I've been really getting into the Merlin fandom (from the BBC show, Merlin), so I have this pressing urge to spread its awesomeness to all the Gleeks who are following my story! Trust me, you don't need to know cannon!Merlin in order to read the fanfiction. All you need to know is this:

Merlin is magical and he lives in Camelot. Magic is banned in Camelot, but Merlin needs to stay and protect Prince Arthur because they are bound by destiny.

Doesn't that sound so slashily good? I thought so. And so does the majority of the Merlin fandom.

So that being said, I was thinking of writing a Merlin/HP xover for NaNoWriMo 2011! And for those of you who don't know, NaNoWriMo is a challenge to write 50k words in a month.

My plot as of yet: Harry finds himself in the time of Merlin and he needs to get back to the present. He is mistaken as the prophesized warlock Emrys (the name that all the magical people call Merlin), which ultimately leads into a contest between Harry and Merlin (I haven't worked that part out yet). Somewhere along the lines, Merthur will happen.

I already have a request for a Strong-but-not-superpowered!Harry. Please feel free to send me suggestions! If I can work it into my fic, then I'll dedicate a chapter to you!


	9. Kurt

A/N: Oh, Kurt is in this chapter! Hahaha, I totally forgot about that…

And warning for SPOILERS: Episode 2.5 – Never Been Kissed. Of course, everyone probably already watched it because it was the episode that Blaine appeared in.

**Music for this chapter:** Teenage Dream by the Warblers

XXX

**Chapter 8: Kurt**

XXX

Blaine likened his return to Dalton like a lesser version of his return to Hogwarts. It was filled with a rush of happiness, comfort, and relief. Topped off with his first solo in the Warblers, Blaine thought this year of high school would go really well.

It had been about time, really. A whole school year had gone by since the fiasco with Bryan Ryan, and Blaine was already a junior in high school. His first year as a self-accepted gay had passed pretty quickly—he could proudly say that he was well-versed in all things stereotypically gay thanks to Jeff.

_And_ with the departure of the Warbler's main soloists, the spot had opened up and Blaine had snagged it. Now, depending on how he did in today's "impromptu" performance in the senior commons, he might possibly become the Warbler's permanent lead singer.

Blaine headed down the twisting stairs of the Dalton hallways, complacently following the crowd. He bit his lip; at this rate, he might not make it on time. As Blaine was contemplating taking an alternate route, a high pitched voice called out.

"Excuse me," the boy said, "um, hi, can I ask you a question? I'm new here."

Blaine paused, and stuck out his hand. "My name's Blaine." He introduced himself.

"Kurt," the boy responded, with a small smile. "Uh, so what exactly is going on?"

"Warblers," Blaine said with a proud grin, "Every now and then they throw an impromptu performance in the senior commons. Tends to shut the school up for a while."

"So wait, the Glee club here is kind of cool?" Kurt asked, looking stunned by the very notion.

"The Warblers are like… rock stars." Blaine responded, thinking back to the first performance he had ever seen of the Warblers all those years ago. Kurt raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

It was about this time that Blaine realized that this "new kid" Kurt wasn't really from Dalton. Besides the obvious cue that came from his lack of blazer and trousers, he didn't have a mentor to show him around either. Yes, this Kurt was definitely a spy, probably from that McKinley Glee club that they had just learned would be their competition. Nevertheless, Blaine felt compelled to help this boy, spy or not. Maybe it was the look in Kurt's eye, so frail and hopeless, that reminded Blaine of himself before Dalton. Whatever it was that made him take Kurt's hand, he would be glad he did it.

Blaine dragged Kurt through the hallway off to the side, still holding onto his hand. He pushed open the double doors of the side entrance and turned to look at Kurt.

"Ooh, I stick out like a sore thumb." Kurt said, looking around the room at the matching uniforms.

"Well next time don't forget your jacket, new kid." Blaine said, teasing him. He smoothed out the lapel in Kurt's own jacket. "You'll fit right in."

Kurt opened his mouth, as if he were about to say something. Blaine had just put down his bag, when he heard the opening notes of _Teenage Dream_.

He smiled at Kurt, seeing the dumbfounded look on his face. "Now, if you'll excuse me." Blaine said softly, before joining his fellow Warblers.

_Before you met me I was alright  
>But things were kinda heavy<br>You brought me to life,  
>Now every February<br>You'll be my Valentine, Valentine_

Blaine could see Kurt start to smile, and that only encouraged him to push this performance even farther. It was such a thrill to be singing the melody, with the Warblers backing him up. It was even better to see that his performance was helping Kurt feel better.

_Let's go all the way tonight  
>No regrets, just love<br>We can dance until we die  
>You and I, we'll be young forever<em>

_You make me_  
><em>Feel like I'm living a<em>  
><em>Teenage dream<em>  
><em>The way you turn me on<em>  
><em>I can't sleep<em>  
><em>Let's run away and<em>  
><em>Don't ever look back<em>  
><em>Don't ever look back<em>

_My heart stops  
>When you look at me<br>Just one touch  
>Now baby I believe<br>This is real  
>So take a chance and<br>And don't ever look back  
>Don't ever look back.<em>

Now everyone was beginning to dance around the room. Blaine looked around and grinned. This was amazing—he had only ever felt this way when he flew his broom for the first time, and even this was stiff competition for that experience! Blaine glanced back at Kurt. He seemed to be having a great time as well, bobbing his head to the music with a growing grin on his face.

_Let's go all the way tonight  
>No regrets, just love<br>We can dance until we die  
>You and I, we'll be young forever<em>

_You make me_  
><em>Feel like I'm living a<em>  
><em>Teenage dream<em>  
><em>The way you turn me on<em>  
><em>I can't sleep<em>  
><em>Let's run away and<em>  
><em>Don't ever look back<em>  
><em>Don't ever look back<em>

_I'ma get your heart racing  
>In my skin-tight jeans<br>Be your teenage dream tonight_

_Let you put your hands on me_

_In my skin-tight jeans_

_Be your teenage dream tonight_

The crowd burst into applause and Blaine was instantly surrounded by his fellow Warblers and Daltoners.

"That was amazing!" He could hear Thad crow in the back. "I think we have ourselves a new lead singer!"

David and Wes were more concerned with Kurt's presence. "Blaine, is that a _spy?_"

Blaine waved for them to follow him, and he headed in Kurt's direction. Grabbing his bag, he motioned for Kurt to follow him as well. He led the three to the nearby café area situated just outside of the senior common room.

Blaine quickly grabbed four cups of coffee and sat down at a round table. "Latte?" He offered to Kurt, sliding the cup over. Kurt accepted it tentatively, nervously glancing at the serious faces of Wes and David. Blaine saw the looks and introduced the two. "This is Wes and David." He said, motioning to the two as he said their names.

"It's very civilized for you two to invite me out for a coffee before you beat me up for spying." Kurt responded, holding up his head high.

"We're not going to beat you up." Wes said, his tone oddly serious for such a ridiculous line.

"You were such a terrible spy that we thought it was sort of… endearing." David added.

"Which made me think that spying wasn't really the reason you came." Blaine said. He raised his eyebrows expectantly.

Wes and David looked at each other; without Kurt saying anything, they had already realized that he was just like Jeff and Blaine, pre-Dalton: bullied, tired, and in need of a safe haven. And knowing that, they had agreed to hear Kurt out before accusing him of foul-play.

Kurt licked his lips and hesitantly began, "Can I ask you guys a question?" At Blaine's nod, he continued. "…Are you guys all gay?"

The three burst out into quiet laughter, having heard that same line over and over from the girls that sometimes visited. "Uh, no," Blaine corrected, still laughing. Seeing Kurt's hurt face, he quickly added, "I mean, I am. But these two have girlfriends."

"This is not a gay school." David said, "We just have a zero-tolerance harassment policy."

"Everyone gets treated the same, no matter what they are. It's pretty simple." Wes added.

At that point, Blaine could see Kurt was on the verge of tears. He bit his lip, knowing the problem must be as severe, if not more, than his own situation at Celina had been. He looked at his friends and quietly asked, "Could you guys excuse us?"

Wes and David glanced back and forth from Kurt to Blaine. They stood up in unison to leave. "Take it easy, Kurt." Wes said, nodding at Blaine to comfort him.

Blaine watched Kurt take in a deep breath to steady himself. He smiled sympathetically, and leaned in forwards. "I take it you're having trouble with school."

"I'm the… only person out of the closet at my school." Kurt said, nodding. He swallowed, trying to hold back his tears. "And I try to stay strong about it, but… there's this Neanderthal who's made it his mission to make my life a living hell… and nobody seems to notice."

With those last words, Blaine's memories came rushing back to him, shoving themselves rudely into his mind. Getting shoved to the floor, getting spit on... and seeking aid from teachers just to have nothing to show.

Kurt's situation was exactly like his own had been. "I know how you feel," Blaine said. He took a deep breath. He had never really talked about his past in detail, not even with Jeff. It was just… too _raw_ to discuss so soon.

But Kurt… he needed this. So Blaine pushed back his insecurities and said, "I got taunted at my old school, and it really…" He bit back a curse, "…pissed me off. I even complained about it to the faculty, and they were sympathetic and all. But you could just tell, nobody really _cared_. It was like, 'Hey, if you're gay, then you're life's just going to be miserable. Sorry! Nothing we can do about it.' So I left. I came here. Simple as that." He ended hollowly, echoing Wes' statement from a few moments before.

They both stared at the table morosely, until Blaine snapped out of his stupor. He looked up to meet Kurt's eyes again. "So you have two options," He continued, "I mean, I would just tell you to enroll here, but tuition at Dalton is sort of steep and I know that's not an option for everybody. _Or_ you can refuse to be the victim."

Now he was just taking things from his old life, as Harry Potter. Years of torment from Dudley, and then Snape and Malfoy had shown him a few things about sticking up for yourself. Sometimes, it just took a little bit of courage. "Prejudice is just ignorance, Kurt. You have a chance right now to teach him."

"How?" Kurt asked, speaking for the first time in a long while.

"Confront him!" Blaine said, really getting into it. It was like giving advice to his former self; it was therapeutic in a way. "Call him out! I ran, Kurt, I didn't stand up. I let bullies chase me away and it's something that I really, really regret."

Kurt exhaled slowly, and then spoke. "Thanks, Blaine. Really. You have no idea what your advice means to me. I was… almost ready to give up, you know? Life wasn't getting any better, and everyone seemed to think homophobia was the _norm_, you know? I really want to do what you're saying, but…"

Blaine bit his lip, thinking. "How about this: let me see your phone."

Kurt raised an eyebrow, but handed his phone over slowly. Blaine took it and quickly punched in his number. "So you don't have to do it alone." He said, handing it back to Kurt.

Kurt opened his mouth in disbelief. "I… thank you, Blaine."

Blaine chuckled, "Don't thank me yet. I don't even know how well this'll turn out. For all I know, I could be making things worse."

Kurt shook his head. "No, just having someone to talk to already makes things so much better." He held out his hand, "Phone?"

Blaine handed it over, his hand brushing Kurt's for the slightest moment. He could have sworn he saw Kurt give a small shiver, but he brushed it off as his imagination.

Kurt finished typing his number and snapped the phone shut. "There," he said, satisfied. "Now you can reach me in case _you_ have an emergency."

Blaine laughed out loud, startled by his new friend's sudden energy. "Sure thing, Kurt. I—"

He was cut off when Kurt's cell phone rang loudly. Kurt quickly picked it up so it wouldn't bother the other students around them. "Hello?" He said quietly. "No, Mercedes, I can't right now… No, I didn't get slushied… I… alright, I'll meet you at your house after school."

Blaine examined his fingers as he pretended not to hear Kurt speaking. He only looked up when he heard Kurt stand up.

"Sorry, Blaine, but I have to go. I'm kind of not supposed to be here…" Kurt said sheepishly.

"Of course not, _spy_." Blaine teased, standing up as well. "Well then, come on, I'll lead you back to your car. I'm amazed you even got _into_ this school—the teacher's are awfully strict on uniforms and they would have sent you to the principal's office if they saw you. What you're wearing could barely pass as the school's uniform."

"Thank Gaga for that," Kurt said with a disdainful look at Blaine's blazer. "Could you imagine me in _that?_"

Blaine laughed again, happily surprised by the bite that came with Kurt's personality. "You know, I think we're going to be very good friends."

Kurt turned a light pink. Blaine tilted his head slightly in confusion. Was Kurt… blushing? Hm, no… it must be the lighting. Dalton's wall scones were fairly dim in the hallways.

"Um, thanks again, Blaine." Kurt said as Blaine pulled open the door for him. Kurt stepped out into the parking lot and shuffled through his bag for his keys.

"No problem, Kurt." Blaine said cheerfully, "It was good for me to help you too."

"Either way," Kurt said with a chuckle, "I really owe you one."

Blaine shrugged, "Take me out for coffee some time. Then I'll call it even."

Kurt inhaled sharply and responded breathily, "Oh, yeah. Um… I'll call you for that, then."

"Yeah, do that." Blaine said with a crooked grin. He ignored it when that same pink shade rose on Kurt's face. Kurt was probably just hot or something.

"Uh, so… bye." Kurt said shyly.

"Bye!" Blaine said. He waved as Kurt pulled out from the parking lot and drove away. He really wished he could do something more for Kurt to support him. An idea suddenly struck him—a text! Yeah, he could send some sort of inspirational text! But what…? Blaine puzzled about this idea, heading back into the warmth of Dalton. He heard the bell ring, signaling the end of lunch. Oh shoot, he was late for class!

XXX

A/N: So who saw that first episode of Season 3? I swooned at the sight of Blaine after so long. And KLAINE!

Now if you could please answer this question: **If you could pair Harry up with anyone in the Harry Potter or Merlin universe, who would it be? This is excluding Merlin and Arthur.** Of course, this poll is for my NaNoWriMo fic which feels awfully empty leaving Harry single. Ah, I only write slash, so please choose a guy character!


	10. Courage

A/N: I know I was supposed to post yesterday, but then my physiology class assigned 30 pages of reading and by the time I was done, it was 11:00, and I still needed to get back to my dorm and go to sleep. Sorry!

XXX

**Chapter 9: Courage**

XXX

"So…" Thad drawled, cornering Blaine after Warbler practice. "Who was _that_?"

"Who was who?" Blaine asked, distractedly looking for his cell phone. He was sure he'd left it _somewhere_ around here.

"Who was the boy that you were singing to?" Nick asked, hearing their conversation.

"You mean Kurt?" Blaine asked, shuffling through his bad. He bit his lip. Without his phone, he couldn't text Kurt! And he had just found the perfect catchphrase too: Courage. It was perfect; it was both a tribute to his old Hogwarts house and an inspirational line that would give Kurt the support he needed!

"Ooh, who's Kurt?" Jeff chimed in, having followed Nick across the room.

"He's a gay kid who's being bullied at his school," Wes responded, seeing that Blaine was too occupied to respond. "Blaine's helping him."

"Helping how?" Jeff asked, "Getting into fights for him, sending letters to the principal…?"

"Oooh, I get it now." Thad said, remembering Blaine's weird mumbles during class. "He's giving textual support!"

"What?" Nick asked, "Did you just make that up?"

"No," Thad said, "I mean, Blaine's been texting Kurt. He was thinking of what to say all class period. We're lucky it was Latin because everyone talks in that class, so it was loud enough that Blaine didn't sound crazy."

"I'm not crazy." Blaine said, his voice muffled because his head was currently under a desk. He crawled out from under it, triumphantly holding his phone. "And I found it!" He quickly flipped open his phone and texted Kurt with the message he had been working on for the past hour.

"He seems a little smitten to me." Nick teased.

Jeff nudged him to be quiet. "Don't bother him, you'll scare him off! You don't want to be the reason why Blaine didn't get a boyfriend, do you?"

"You really think they'll start dating?" Wes asked, surprised. "But they just met! And you haven't even seen them together yet!"

"I know," Jeff said, "but have you ever seen Blaine act like _that_ with anyone else? Kurt is definitely someone special, although I don't think even Blaine's realized that yet."

"Are you saying it's like a 'love at first sight' type of thing?" Thad said doubtfully.

"No, just a connection," Jeff responded easily. "It doesn't have to be love just yet. That'll come with time."

Nick scoffed, "You can't tell that. You're saying that you already know that Blaine and Kurt will start dating? Just because Blaine is acting a _little_ too attached right now? I bet he just likes the idea of mentoring a mini-Blaine and wants to do a good job."

Jeff hummed, watching Blaine read Kurt's reply message. "We'll see…"

XXX

Blaine felt a buzzing from his pocket the next day, during the beginning of lunch. He flipped to see who it was, and quickly picked up when he saw Kurt's name on the screen.

"Hey, Kurt, what's up?" Blaine asked casually. His friends around him began to smirk knowingly at him, but before they could make a comment, Blaine abruptly stood up.

"Hey, hey Kurt, calm down." He said soothingly. He grabbed his bag, thanking Merlin that he was old enough to drive by himself. Blaine covered the mouthpiece of the phone. To Nick, he asked, "Cover for me in class, will you? I might be gone for the rest of the day."

Nick nodded, knowing this was no time for questions. Blaine smiled in thanks, and quickly walked away, headed for the parking lot.

"Kurt, take a deep breath. With me now: inhale… exhale. Feel better? Now tell me what just happened, slowly."

"Blaine, I—Karofsky…" Blaine could head Kurt take in another deep, shuddering breath. "I confronted Karofsky after he shoved me into the lockers again. I chased him into the boy's locker room, and then I was yelling at him about how I wasn't even remotely attracted to him, and something about how he was sweaty and balding and so not my type, and then…and then he _kissed_ me, Blaine."

Blaine nearly dropped his car keys, not expecting that in the least. "He did _what?_ So your Neanderthal is actually just denying his own homosexuality, and he takes it out on you." Blaine deduced, shaking his head. "I'll be right over there, Kurt. Stay on the line with me, I'll put you on speaker."

"Are you sure?" Kurt asked as Blaine was pulling out from Dalton. "Westerville is an hour and a half away, and it's fine if you don't come…"

"Kurt, I'm coming whether you like it or not." Blaine told him gently. "You need a friend right now, and it just so happens that I'm available."

He heard Kurt snort quietly through the phone. "You're not available, you're cutting class."

Blaine shrugged. "It's just Latin and Gym. And Warbler practice, but Wes and David will understand."

Kurt laughed, though not whole-heartedly. "Yeah, _just_ Latin. Gaga, you and your preppy classes…"

"Hey, I'm not the one fluent in French," Blaine teased, happy that Kurt had cheered up enough to make smart remarks about Dalton again. "Hey, Kurt, where are you right now? Because this drive will take me at least an hour, even though I'm speeding."

"What? No, Blaine, slow down!" Kurt yelped, "I don't want you to get a ticket just because of me."

"Okay, okay, slowing down…" Blaine said, stepping on the gas to speed up instead.

Kurt sighed, and there was a hollow clunking sound through the phone. "Take your time, I'm hidden under the staircase right now. Nobody ever comes here, not even to make out. Or so Santana says…"

"Santana?" Blaine asked, his mind picking up on the familiar name. "Isn't that the Latino in your Glee club?"

"Yeah, she… gets around." Kurt phrased delicately. "But her best friend Brittany is the one who can claim she's kissed every boy in this school. Our Glee club isn't keen on monogamy, you see."

"Wait, she's kissed _every_ boy in the school?" Blaine asked, laughing. "Now this I've got to hear."

"Eh, that story is tame compared to what the rest of our Glee club has been up to." Blaine could almost hear the shrug through the phone. "I guarantee you, these stories will last you through your hour long drive, at _least_."

"Well then," Blaine said, not knowing what he was getting in to, "Entertain me."

XXX

"And then Finn finds out that he's not the father, but instead Puck is because he got Quinn drunk off of wine coolers, so she had sex with him."

Blaine laughed, "Wow, your Glee club sounds… very interesting."

"Yeah, it's the best thing about them." Kurt said, "Even if our practices don't go well, at least I have the most recent gossip to keep me entertained."

"And we only gossip about how long the newest Warbler was kept awake by Pavarotti—he's our team mascot, by the way. A canary." Blaine explained. "Kurt, I'm pulling up into McKinley. Where are you near?"

"Already? That was fast." Kurt said, surprised. "Which entrance are you using? The one by the big statue, or the one with the graffiti all over the walls?"

"Well, the statue has graffiti on it too…" Blaine said, raising an eyebrow at the crude picture drawn strategically on the statue. He was pretty sure that was a female statue too, so that drawing placed _there_ made it seem very… weird.

"Okay, keep on going straight and I'll meet you outside. Your timing is about right—classes are about to end."

"Speaking of which, which classes have you been skipping? Won't someone get mad?" Blaine asked, pulling into the nearest parking space.

"Nah, my French teacher loves me." Kurt said nonchalantly. "She'll understand when I say that it was an emergency. And besides that, I just have study hall, and after that, lunch. Nothing to be worried about."

Blaine stepped out from his car, shading his eyes with a hand. "I'm here, where are you?"

"Right here." Kurt said from behind him. Blaine jumped, spinning around. Kurt grinned, "Hi!"

"You scared me." Blaine said, hanging up his phone. He scanned Kurt with his eyes, checking for injuries.

"I'm not hurt, Blaine." Kurt said, "Just a bit… shocked."

"I'm so sorry that my advice led to this." Blaine said remorsefully.

Kurt placed a hand on Blaine's arm. "Hey, you've more than made it up driving all the way here."

Blaine nodded resolutely. "And I'll make it up even more when we confront Karofsky."

Kurt visibly hesitated, dropping his hand to his side.

"Kurt, you don't have to do anything. I just want to try and talk him out of bullying you, that's it." Blaine said gently. "Now that we know he's just in the closet, there's a chance that we can help him resolve his issues, and then your life would be a lot easier. Okay?"

Kurt nodded, and as if on cue, the bell rang, signaling for the next class. "Karofsky will be taking the courtyard path right now." He said quietly, "He has Math next in Hall S with Mr. Newman."

"And how do you know all of this…?" Blaine prompted, following Kurt closely. He shifted uncomfortably, realizing that he should have changed clothes before infiltrating a public school.

"All of us Glee kids have to know where our bullies are headed to, and where." Kurt explained, easily maneuvering through the crush of people in the halls. "I've personally memorized Karofsky's schedule and where he walks. It's been… useful."

Blaine narrowed his eyes at the casual tone in Kurt's voice. "Well, if this works, you won't have to worry about that anymore."

"I'm still not sure about this." Kurt said, turning the corner into the courtyard. They began walking up the stairs.

"Don't worry about it; just let me do the talking." Blaine said as reassuringly as he could.

Kurt didn't look comforted in the slightest bit. "There he is." Kurt said, instinctively stepping behind Blaine.

Blaine eyed the burly football player coming down the stairs. It was like Dudley all over again, except less fat and more brawn. "I got your back," He told Kurt. "Excuse me!" He called out, stopping Karofsky right in his tracks.

"Hey lady boys," Karofsky said, his voice trembling the slightest bit. "This your boyfriend, Kurt?" He asked disdainfully.

"Kurt and I would like to talk to you about something."

"I gotta go to class." Karofsky said insincerely, brushing past them and shoving Kurt on the way.

"Kurt told me what you did." Blaine said, trying to keep his temper. This wasn't a regular bully, he was misunderstood… he needed someone to listen. Blaine kept on telling himself that, trying to keep his magic from doing something accidental (or he would _say_ it was accidental if the Ministry found out and questioned him on it).

"Oh yeah?" Karofsky challenged. "What's that?"

"You kissed me." Kurt accused softly.

Karofsky looked nervously from side to side. "I don't know what you're talking about." He denied.

"It seems like you might be a little confused," Blaine said, trying to play up to Karofsky's insecurity. "And that's totally normal. This is a very hard thing to come to terms with, and you should just know that you're not alone."

That was the wrong thing to say. "Do not mess with me." Karofsky said, pinning Blaine against the wall.

Blaine held up his arms in a gesture that he meant no harm, but wasn't able to do anything before Kurt intervened. "Stop this!" He shouted, pushing Karofsky away from Blaine.

Karofsky licked his lips, nervously looking at all the people watching. He seemed to give up then, and he turned away and hurried down the stairs.

"Well he's not coming out any time soon." Blaine quipped, trying to show Kurt that he wasn't the slightest bit affected by the confrontation. No, his own "playtime" with Dudley had been a lot worse than a simple shove. Blaine figured he got off easy, considering what Kurt went through every day.

Kurt sighed, sitting down wearily on the stairs. Blaine noticed his defeated look. "What's going on? Why are you so upset?" It hadn't gone _that_ poorly… They were both still in one piece.

"Because up until yesterday, I had never been kissed," Kurt said, his voice raw with emotions. "At least, not one that counted."

Blaine bit his lip, unsure of how to help his friend. He remembered his first kiss with Cho—it didn't matter all that much to him, not then and not now. But this was Kurt he was talking about. If he knew anything about his friend, it was that he was a romantic. A _hopeless _romantic. So having his first kiss stolen from him like that… it must have been devastating.

"Come on, I'll buy you lunch." Blaine said, nudging him gently. "You're free now, right?"

"Yeah, why?" Kurt asked, standing up.

"Cause I'm taking you out. Let's go, where's a good place to eat here?" He asked, slinging his arm around Kurt's shoulder.

"Um…" Kurt said, his face turning a light shade of pink. Blaine ignored it, knowing it was nothing. "Breadstix is a popular spot…"

"Then Breadstix it is." Blaine said, pulling out his keys from his bag. "You know, you might not be getting back to school in time for Glee practice."

"It's alright," Kurt said, sliding into the passenger's seat. He giggled slightly when he saw the owl hanging from Blaine's mirror. "This is cute."

"Yeah," Blaine said with a nostalgic smile, "Her name's Hedwig. She's a snowy owl."

"Wait, she's a real bird?" Kurt asked, noticing that the emotion in Blaine's voice was too deep to be directed towards a stuffed plushy.

"No, of course not. That would be silly—keeping an owl for a pet…" Blaine laughed awkwardly. He quickly turned on the car and began to drive out. "So which way?"

Kurt raised an eyebrow and the obvious change of the subject, but dropped it. "Left onto here, and then make a right at the second light."

"So, what's there to eat at this Breadstix place?" Blaine asked.

"Well, there's endless breadsticks." Kurt said wryly, "But they don't taste very good. I usually order a salad, but apparently their pizza is to die for."

"Well then, I'll have to get a slice of that, won't I?" Blaine said, "If only to make you try a piece."

Kurt scrunched up his nose in disgust. "All that grease will go straight to my face. No thank you."

"Come on, Kurt. It's one me." Blaine wheedled, turning into the small restaurant. After he parked, he turned to Kurt to give him a pleading look.

"Fine…" Kurt gave in, his face pink again. Blaine grinned in triumph and led the way into the restaurant.

"So," Blaine said as they settled down into a booth. The restaurant was awfully crowded for a weekday afternoon, only showing how popular the place really was. "You remember how I was telling you about our school pictures the other day? Well they came out today…"

"Let me see it!" Kurt immediately said.

Blaine shook his head, a small smile playing across his face. "No way, didn't you hear what I said yesterday? He took the picture when I wasn't ready, so it looks weird."

"I doubt anything with you in it could be classified as 'weird', Blaine." Kurt said offhandedly. He paused, and then his face turned red.

Blaine raised an eyebrow, but slowly handed over the picture anyways. "Fine, but you can't laugh."

Kurt turned over the picture and his breath caught in his throat. "You look… great."

Blaine scoffed, taking a sip of his water. "I know you're just being polite."

"No, really!" Kurt insisted, "It's a great picture of you!"

"Well if you like it that much, then you can keep it." Blaine said, half jokingly. "My parents have enough weird pictures of me—Dalton tries to make up for its cost by taking 'candid' photos of the students and mailing them to our parents. It makes them happy, at least… keeps them paying for our tuition."

"Now I want to see _those_ as well." Kurt said slyly.

"No way," Blaine said with a laugh. "Isn't it enough that you get to keep _that_ picture of me?"

"Doesn't count," Kurt said, waving his hand dismissively. He nodded in thanks as the waitress placed his salad in front of him. "All school pictures look silly. You should see mine, I was just slushied that day and it completely ruined my hair."

"Ouch, wouldn't want to be the bullies who did that." Blaine said, wincing. As he was talking, he cut a small bite of pizza from his slice. "Here you go, eat." He demanded, holding out his fork.

Kurt looked out the food doubtingly. "If I start to break out, you know whose fault it is."

"I know, I know, and I'll buy you whatever products you need to fix it." Blaine said, rolling his eyes. "Eat it, Kurt."

Kurt scowled at the demand, but complied anyways. He chewed on it slowly. "It's… passable. For artery-clogging junk, that is." He consented, turning back to his salad.

"So I'll take that as an 'It was very good, thank you Blaine for forcing me to try it.'" Blaine said, grinning. He took a bite of the pizza himself and gave a moan of appreciation. They lapsed into a comfortable silence for a while as both of them ate their respective meals.

Suddenly, Kurt sighed. Wiping his face with a napkin, Blaine asked, "What's wrong? Are you still thinking about the kiss?"

"Of course I'm still thinking about it," Kurt said shortly. He sighed, "Sorry… it's just, I've always had this notion that my first kiss would be… you know, _romantic_. Like, candle-lit dinners, talking under the stars, maybe a bit of fireworks, and then _bam!_ I know it's cliché, but when you watch as many romantic comedies as I do, then you begin to get ideas."

"You said that this was the 'first kiss that counted'." Blaine said slowly. "But… if you didn't think Brittany's kiss counted as your first, then why does Karofsky's? Kurt, if you didn't want that kiss to be your first, then it won't be. Your first kiss will be something that _you_ participate in, not just some twisted form of bullying."

Kurt was silent for a moment. "Have you had your first kiss yet, Blaine?"

"Yeah," Blaine said, thinking back to the awkward kiss with Cho. "It was with this girl who I sort of had a crush on way back when. Long story short, she only kissed me because she was trying to get over the death of her boyfriend."

"Oh," Kurt said, his eyes widening. "Um… so did you ever start to go out?"

"No," Blaine said with a laugh, "I'm hopeless with romance. She tried to start something with me, but I just messed it up. Now that I think back on it, I never really liked her all that much. I guess I just admired her because she was pretty and good at sports."

"And… are you going out with anyone right now?" Kurt asked boldly.

"No, I'm still waiting for the right person. And you?" Blaine said nonchalantly. He didn't notice Kurt's breath catch in his throat at the response.

Kurt had to take a sip of water before answering. "No, not me either."

"Well then, good." Blaine said with a grin. "We can keep each other company until we get ourselves boyfriends."

"Yeah." Kurt said, looking down to hide a large grin. "Let's do that."

XXX

A/N: I hope this doesn't have any more blaring errors. I tried to edit during the 20 minutes I had between classes… Please tell me if you see anything strange!

And OMG who's excited for tomorrow's Glee episode? Because seriously, last week was such a cliffhanger and I was freaking out when the screen turned black. Really, Glee shouldn't do cliffhangers. They just leave me too antsy during the week. AH, I can't wait!


	11. Magic Returns to the Scene

A/N: I'm very sorry for not replying to reviews until a week later! I just keep on forgetting, and I'm so busy, and I'm not doing well in classes… When did life get this stressful?

XXX

**Chapter 10: Magic Returns to the Scene**

XXX

"Hey, Kurt, I just got two tickets for the local production of _Rent_ for this Friday. Want to come see it with me?" Blaine asked excitedly into the phone. He grinned when Kurt replied an affirmative. "Great, I'll pick you up at 3? …Alright, see you then."

Everett raised an eyebrow from his slouched position on the couch. "Going out with Kurt again?"

"Yep," Blaine said happily, making a note on his calendar.

"And you're not dating."

"No, we're only friends, dad." Blaine said for the n-th time. "Two gay guys can be just friends."

Everett shrugged. "Well, if a girl and a guy can barely be 'just friends', I have a hard time believing two gay guys could do it any better."

Blaine looked at him in disbelief. "You have girl friends."

"Yeah, but I've gone through periods where I was attracted to them all." Everett said, flipping through the channels casually. He stopped when he saw a college football game on. "You sure this Kurt kid doesn't think it's anything more? I know I would if a girl suddenly started hanging out with me so often."

"No, Kurt doesn't think we're dating either, dad." Blaine groaned. "I'm going up to my room."

Really, just because they hung out so often, didn't mean that they were dating! He got enough of that from the rest of the Warblers—it had become a running joke that if Blaine was on his phone, he was talking to Kurt. Okay, so maybe the joke had some merit to it, but still!

At that moment, Blaine's phone rang. He picked it up and lazily held it to his ear. "Hello?"

"Hey, Blaine, want to come out to the movies this Friday with the other Warblers?" Thad asked without ado.

"This Friday?" Blaine repeated, "I just made plans with Kurt."

Thad sighed through the phone. "Of course, of course…"

"But we can all hang out some other day, right?" Blaine quickly said.

"No, it's alright. We all understand; it's _Kurt_ after all." Thad said in a knowing tone. Blaine frowned. Before he could comment, Thad continued, "Well then, see you tomorrow in school."

"Alright, bye." Blaine said and then hung up. He felt kind of guilty for blowing off the Warblers again. They used to hang out all the time, but now with Kurt in the picture, he had been seeing them less and less. Of course, they had been kind and gracious about it, yet he felt sort of guilty nonetheless.

XXX

"Kurt? Do you think we've been spending… _too much_ time together?" Blaine asked abruptly as they walked out from the theater that had been showcasing _Rent_.

"Are you getting sick of me already?" Kurt said with a weak smile. "Was that your way of saying you don't want to hang out anymore?"

"No, no, of course not!" Blaine hastily corrected. "It's just that… I used to hang out with the Warblers all the time, and suddenly there's _you_ and you're awesome and everything, but I feel kind of guilty for leaving them out all of a sudden."

Kurt sighed. "I completely understand the sentiment. I think Mercedes has been feeling a little left out as well. She's turned to food for comfort, and now she's starting this whole 'tater tot war' with Coach Sylvester in school."

Blaine didn't even pause to ask what Kurt was talking about. He had quickly become immune to the weirdness that was McKinley High. "Maybe we should do something together with all of our friends. You know, introduce them and all. It would be good for the competition, so nobody thinks we're friends so we can spy on the other team and all."

"Well, Rachel will think that regardless," Kurt said pensively, "and the others just plain don't care. But I think it would be fun to meet the infamous Warblers."

Blaine chuckled. "Isn't that supposed to be my line? You've told twice the number of stories that I have, and yours are always so much more entertaining."

"But we need a setting where people have enough space to get away from each other if something goes wrong…" Kurt said, tapping his chin with his finger. "I know for a fact that Santana will be all over your Warblers in an instant, and Rachel will definitely be on the defense for spies."

"Someplace outside, then." Blaine clarified.

Kurt brightened at the thought of an idea, "Then how about a picnic? Everyone can bring some food, and we'll all just hang out. Isn't there a park in Bellefontaine? That's around halfway between Lima and Westerville, right?"

"All right, I'll ask the Warblers then." Blaine said. "They should be excited—the straight ones haven't seen girls in a while. Midterms have been keeping everyone busy. And I'm sure Jeff won't mind looking at the guys either."

Kurt giggled. "You make the Warblers sound almost as bad as the New Directions when it comes to hormones."

"Oh the horror," Blaine said with a shudder. "If we had as much drama as you guys do, then we'd never get anything done! It almost makes me glad that Wes is such a sadistic tyrant during practice."

XXX

"So," Kurt clapped his hands gleefully, "Warblers, this is the New Directions. New Directions, this is the Warblers. Well, some of the Warblers." Kurt corrected. Most of the Warblers hadn't shown up, having had a group charity thing that they were singing for. Only Blaine's closest friends: Wes, David, Thad, Nick, and Jeff, had canceled and shown up at their picnic.

Rachel stepped forwards. She greeted them cordially, "As leader of the New Directions, I will take this time to warn you that if you plan on stealing our set list from us, then we will do something ten times worse back to you."

Wes bristled. "First of all, we aren't going to steal your set list. Second of all, if you want to make a threat, then do it properly. Like this: if _you_ steal _our _set list, then we'll report you to the Committee of Musical Codes and Regulations for cheating."

"Ooh, I'm so scared." Rachel shot back. "If we _did_ steal your set list, we would make sure there was no proof!"

"We'd know it was you." Wes said, his eyes narrowed. "And if the Committee refused to ban you from all future competitions, then you might mysteriously find your costumes ridden with bird seeds and torn to pieces by the same yellow canaries that have represented the Warblers since 1891."

Santana eyed him up and down. "I like the way you think, Warbler." She sidled up to him. "I'm Santana, by the way." She said with a coy smile.

"Santana, Wes has a girlfriend." Kurt said dryly. "And nobody is going to steal anybody's set list. This isn't about Glee Club, guys, it's about a get together with friends!"

Rachel harrumphed. "Fine then, if there's a repeat of our first sectionals, it'll be on your head, Kurt!" She stormed away dramatically, and everyone took that as a sign to go and mingle.

"So you're the infamous Blaine, huh?" Finn asked, taking a seat under the big weeping willow that they had placed their picnic blanket under.

"Infamous, am I?" Blaine asked, raising his eyebrow. "You're the extremely tall, football player, and can't-dance-for-his-life Finn, I take it."

"Kurt's been talking about me?" Finn asked, cracking open a bottle of coke. "I'm surprised. I thought you guys would spend the whole day talking about fashion or weddings or something."

Blaine chuckled. "I really should be offended by your stereotyping."

"No offense intended." Finn quickly added. He scratched the back of his head. "Kurt says I have to work on that."

"Ah yes, he said your parents were dating." Blaine recalled. "That must be hard, having your mom move on to a different guy."

"It kind of is." Finn admitted, talking in a lower voice. "I mean, Kurt's great and all, but… I don't know. I guess I'm just not used to sharing my house with anyone but my mom. I'm sure Kurt's told you about our… argument over the décor of our room."

"Yes," Blaine said delicately, "he said it got quite heated."

Finn stared down at an ant crawling up his shoe. "I'm not happy with what I said. And I've really been trying to get over this whole homophobia thing, but it's hard."

"Going against the public opinion usually is." Blaine said, thinking back to the days when the Ministry still denied Voldemort's return. "It's painful, both mentally and physically, at times. But the way I see it, sometimes you just have to stick to your own opinions when you know the public is just stuck in some ignorant state of mind. That's how change happens, through the tenacity of the so-called radicals of society."

Finn stared at him blankly. "I didn't understand half of what you just said, but I think I agree you."

"Great, thanks Finn." Blaine laughed wryly. They lapsed into silence, looking out to the other teenagers. Blaine could see Kurt excitedly talking to Jeff—no doubt about the latest fashion or something of the like. He shook his head; that was a blooming friendship right there.

"Hey Finn, want to play a game?" Mike shouted from the open field off to the side. He threw a football up and caught it in his right hand and waved it above his head.

"Sure!" Finn said, getting up. He hesitated. "Uh, do you want to play too?"

"Yeah, I love football." Blaine said with a grin. "Can't say how good I'll be, though. Dalton doesn't have sports teams; they say it detracts from the academics of the place."

"Wow, that sucks." Finn said with a wince. "I couldn't imagine school without football. Who rules the school then? The chess club?"

"The Warblers do, actually." Blaine said, slightly puffing his chest out in pride. He looked over to where Mike was standing, with Artie, Sam, and Puck gathering around him. "I'll ask the others if they want to play too. While he may not look it, Thad is a really good kicker."

"Kurt's pretty good too." Finn said, laughing when he saw Blaine's look of surprise. "Yeah, he joined our team way back when. He was the sole reason we won a game that season."

"No kidding," Blaine said, "I'll have to get him to tell me that story one day."

Blaine walked down the slope to where the Thad, Nick, and David were hanging out with the girls of the New Directions. He shook his head when he saw Nick outrageously flirting with Mercedes and Brittany.

"You guys want to play football with us?" Blaine said, nodding towards Finn and the others.

Thad leaped up. "Sure!" He said enthusiastically. "I haven't played in _ages_!"

"I'll pass." Nick said, waving Blaine off with a hand. "I'm entertaining these lovely ladies." He said with a wink at the girls, causing them to giggle.

"Okay then, David?" Blaine turned to the last boy of the group.

"I think I'll keep Nick company." The boy said, smiling charmingly at Tina.

Blaine shook his head. He glanced at Wes and Santana, sitting closer to each other than proper, and then looked back to David and Nick flirting openly with the New Directions girls. Honestly, it was like monogamy was already an outdated concept. Through the behavior of his friends, and the stories that Kurt had told him, Blaine was ready to give up on the idea that a couple might be faithful to each other while in high school.

He headed back to Finn and the others, with Thad on his heels. "Got one other person. But now we have an odd number of people…"

"Doesn't matter," Mike said, "Since you two don't play on a team, we'll just stick you together, alright? Alright I shot captain, who else?"

Their game continued for a good two hours and only ended when Kurt called them for food. Blaine wiped the sweat off of is forehead—that had been exhilarating! Wow, now he really wished they had a football team at Dalton so he could play more often.

"God, it's hot today." Puck said, pulling off his shirt. Blaine saw the other boys pulling off their shirts as well. He shrugged and tossed off his shirt too, taking a seat next to Kurt on the overly large picnic blanket.

"So, has Jeff replaced me as your best friend yet?" Blaine asked Kurt, nodding in thanks with Quinn passed him a sandwich.

"No not yet," Kurt said, "but it's getting close. You'd better watch out." He teased. His eyes flicked down onto Blaine's chest repeatedly as he spoke, though Blaine was oblivious. "He's actually _been_ to Paris and he's seen an actual fall show. Can you believe it? That's like a once in a lifetime opportunity for people like us, who have no fashion credit yet. I would give an arm just to get that chance…"

Blaine laughed. "Wow, already at that stage, huh? Don't worry, when you become a big-shot fashion designer in New York, you'll be invited to see shows in Paris as well. Maybe your work will be featured there as well, who knows?"

"Yeah," Kurt said, his eyes getting misty in wistfulness, "that would be a dream come true."

"Hey, mind if I join you?" Jeff asked, scooting over to them. "Nick's busy flirting with girls." He made a face at that.

"Sure, join right in!" Kurt said, moving closer to Blaine to give Jeff more room. "I thought Nick was dating someone."

"Sleeping with someone, is more like it." Jeff said disdainfully.

"I'm sorry…" Kurt said, placing his hand delicately on Jeff's arm. Blaine looked between the two of them, completely lost.

"I'm fine," Jeff said softly. "It's not like he knows and is doing it on purpose."

Blaine was going to ask what was going on, when he felt it. A tingling in his scar, a sensation he hadn't felt for over 3 years now, since he left the Wizarding World. Blaine's breath caught in his throat as he discreetly began to look around. They hadn't picked the best spy-proof zone. There were many trees surrounding them, many of them with thick branches and heavy leaves that could obscure any person who wanted to stay out of sight. Blaine wished desperately for his wand so he could cast a spell to identify the spy.

As if his magic heard his plea, Blaine felt a jolt from his fingertips. He watched, awestruck as a faint bolt of light flew towards the oak off to his right. And then, as if he had actually cast the spell, the spy lit up, encapsulated in a bright yellow light. Blaine gaped, too shocked to do anything as the spy ran away into the forest.

Kurt laughed loudly at something Jeff said. He paused, looking at Blaine staring off into the forest. "Hey, are you alright?" He asked, placing a hand on Blaine's bare shoulder.

Blaine jumped, realizing where he was. "Yeah, yeah I'm fine." He said. Merlin's balls, he just did magic in front of a large group of muggles! He glanced at Kurt and Jeff from the side of his eye. At least they hadn't noticed. He quickly scanned the rest of the group to see if anyone had been looking at him. Nobody was meeting his eye, so he gave a sigh of relief.

But what had that been? Wandless magic? Surely not—only the most powerful of powerful wizards could do even the most basic spell without a wand. It was a sad, but true fact for all wizard-kind, their wand dependence. So there was no way that he just performed a fifth-year level spell wandlessly. But, Blaine thought desperately to himself glancing at his fingertips, then what was that?

Blaine shivered. Although many years had past since he left the Wizarding World behind, this was the first time he felt like he was truly alone. There was no one he could talk to about the possible Death Eater who showed up at a random picnic, nor was there anyone who would understand about him doing a seemingly impossible feat of magic. Blaine bit his lip, understanding this for the first time. He was all alone.

XXX

A/N: And here comes the Harry Potter aspect of this crossover!

Who's read the spoilers for Episode 5 of Season 3? I am so freaking excited for that episode, even though it's coming on in at least a month. It kind of stinks that Glee, the second round of exams, and NaNoWriMo will ALL be starting at the beginning of November. I think I'm going to die.

I have a question for you guys since some of you have leaving _really_ good remarks in your reviews. **Do you want me to follow the Glee storyline in how Klaine comes together? **That would include the whole Jeremiah and Rachel mess. If the majority says no, then I guess I'll have to make this fic a lot more original than I intended! Uhhh, I guess that's an incentive for you to reply "no" then, huh?


	12. The Safehouse

A/N: Wow, you guys are kind of awesome. I got more than 2x the number of responses to the last chapter than I've ever gotten before! As a reward, see the bottom A/N!

And yes, I know my posting's been kind of erratic. My goal is to post by Sunday, so if I post earlier than that… well, Happy Birthday!

XXX

**Chapter 11: The Safehouse**

XXX

"Blaine, honey, are you alright?" Cristina asked, placing a hand on his forehead. "You've been quiet ever since you got back from your picnic. You haven't caught a cold, have you?"

"No, mom, it's nothing." Blaine said quietly, picking at his food.

Cristina and Everett exchanged a glance. "If there's something really bothering you, you know you can tell us." Everett said comfortingly. "And if it has something to do with _that_… well, if it's an emergency, then we could always arrange something. I just got a message from _him_ that things seem to be cooling down right now."

Blaine swallowed and looked up hopefully. "Could you?" He asked. "I mean, I wouldn't say it's an emergency, but I really need to talk to someone…"

"Of course we can, Blaine." Cristina said, looking at Everett meaningfully. "We were actually surprised you haven't asked to see them before now. He said something might happen because you were suddenly taken from that world, and we were wondering when it might occur."

"You mean this is normal?" Blaine asked, feeling a bit of stress ebb from his body.

"What is 'this'?" Everett asked. "Blaine, did something happen during your picnic?"

Blaine bit his lip, not having planned on telling them. "Yes," He admitted, "but there's nothing you can do about it." He hastily added.

Everett sighed. "I'll send a message to him, asking if you can meet with someone. I'll tell him it's an emergency."

Blaine smiled. "Thanks, dad. This means a lot to me."

Everett stood up from the dinner table, heading to his study to deliver the message. "It's no problem, Blaine. Now eat your dinner before it gets cold. You don't want your mother to worry."

XXX

Blaine stared listlessly out the car window as they drove down the highway. It had been nearly three hours since they had left the house. All Blaine knew right now is that Dumbledore had said he was to meet some familiar faces in a safe house out in Indiana. He hadn't been given names or anything—for all he knew, he was leaving Celina for a week in order to see Severus Snape!

Blaine sighed, his head lolling on the back of the seat. At least Dalton was on break right now so he wouldn't be missing anything. He stared at the clock for the dozenth time in the last hour. He bit back a whine of "Are we there yet?", knowing it would only irritate his parents.

Just as if Everett was reading Blaine's mind, their car began to slow down as they pulled off the highway. Blaine perked up, noting that the drive was almost to an end. He waited anxiously as the car continued down a shabby looking town, finally turning down a dirt pathway. He fidgeted nervously as they bumped along the rugged road, twisting and turning through areas that didn't even look like roadways. Then, they stopped.

Blaine practically fell out from the car and looked up at the safe house. It was more of a shack than anything—probably abandoned by some ranger way back when. Blaine looked at Everett curiously, wondering if they were supposed to floo somewhere else from here.

Everett glanced at Blaine, noting his anxious and excited demeanor. He contemplated stalling, but decided against it when Blaine began tapping his foot impatiently. "We, Everett, Cristina, and Blaine Anderson, hereby claim entrance into the Oasis." He stated clearly.

Blaine watched astounded as the shack shimmered in front of them and then transformed into a multi-storied house. Magic. It had been so long since he had last felt that tingling. It felt like coming home.

He shook his head, brushing off the feeling. Blaine glanced at Everett once more, and getting a nod in return, he rushed to open the door.

Before he had even entered the house, he was bombarded by a mess of bushy, brown hair. "Harry!" Hermione squealed, hugging him tight. Blaine—Harry grinned back, hugging her just as fiercely.

"It's strange to be called that name again." He said, pulling Ron into the hug as well. "It's great to see you guys again. It's been, what, three years now, hasn't it?"

"I just know it's been way too long." Ron said, engulfing the two of them in his strong arms. When they began to squirm, Ron released them. "Whoa, mate, you look completely different."

Harry smiled, playing with his gelled back hair. "I know," He said ruefully. "You like?"

"You look adorable, Harry." Hermione reassured him.

Harry frowned. "Not quite the look I was going for, but alright." He conceded.

"Hey, you three, don't block the door." A familiar voice called out from another room.

Harry looked up past Ron's very tall shoulder. "Remus!" He said, grabbing the werewolf in for a hug. "You look…"

"Awful, yes I know." Remus said with a chuckle. "The rest of the Order looks no better, let me tell you."

"Who else is here?" Harry asked, perking up. "Sirius?"

"Right here." Sirius said, picking Harry up in a big bear hug. Harry squeaked when he felt his feet lift from the ground. "How've you been? Missed me?"

"I've missed all of you so much." Harry said, smiling. Then he remembered Cristina and Everett standing by the door, luggage in hand, waiting to come in. He sidled over to them. "These are my parents, Cristina and Everett Anderson."

"Nice to meet you," Remus said, grasping Everett's hand in his own in a firm handshake. "Thank you for taking care of Harry for so long."

"It's been no problem," Cristina replied for both of them. "Blaine—Harry here is such a dear."

"Oh here, let me help you with that." Sirius said, taking the luggage from her. "We'll help you get settled in." He said, motion towards Remus. "Let the kids talk for a while."

"Thanks Sirius." Harry said, grabbing Ron and Hermione by the hand. "Come on, I have so much to tell you."

"Your room is over here." Ron said, pushing open a door as they passed it. "The other floors upstairs are being used as headquarters, so who knows what's in them. Nobody in the Order, except for those who have been given permission by Dumbledore, is allowed there."

"You're in the Order now, I take it?" Harry said, setting his bag on the ground and taking a seat on the large bed.

"Yeah, and it's not as exciting as you would think." Ron said a bit glumly.

"We didn't join for excitement, Ron." Hermione said, "We're looking for Horcruxes so Harry can return, remember?"

"Oh yeah, how's that going?" Harry asked hopefully. "How's the war been going in general? I'm guessing you're not doing so badly if you have time to come here."

"Well," Hermione said with a grimace, "It's not going as well as we'd hope. Voldemort is rapidly expanding his influence across Europe, now that he has a firm footing in the Ministry of Magic. The public is as oblivious as usual to the infiltration of the government, but at least now they're aware of Voldemort's presence since he's been attacking villages in open daylight."

"That sounds like nothing is going right." Harry commented grimly.

"No, the Order has more than quadrupled in size." Ron said optimistically. "And we're just missing three Horcruxes now. Dumbledore says he has an inkling on where two of them are, so we've been assigned to look for them."

"You two are doing it on your own?" Harry asked, his eyebrows rising. "And your mum allows you?"

"Well, it's kind of a top secret type of thing." Ron said, fidgeting. "Mum doesn't know what I'm up to. She thinks I've been training to join the Aurors, and nobody wants to tell her otherwise."

"It's for the best, Ron." Hermione told him quietly, placing her hand on his. "Molly would just worry, you know that."

"Yeah…" Ron said with a sigh. Harry noticed the worry lines etched onto both of his friends' faces, no doubt caused by the immense stress placed upon them by the war.

"Um," Harry said, feeling a bit awkward as they didn't break the stare, seemingly caught up in the other's eyes. "Are you two together now?"

Ron and Hermione jumped apart. "Yeah," Ron said, his face red. "I asked her out a month after you left. I just figured that time was sort of precious during this war, and if you could disappear out of nowhere, then so could anyone else."

Hermione brought Ron to lay down on the bed facing Harry. "So?" She began with a strange glimmer in her eye. "Dumbledore finally told us what you've been up to. Muggle school, huh? Meet any nice girls yet? Gone on any dates…?"

"Yeah, about that." Harry said with a cough. "It ends up I'm kind of… not into girls."

Ron's eyebrows shot up. "Really?" He said surprised. "I didn't expect that."

"So you're gay?" Hermione clarified. At Harry's nod, she pulled him into a hug. "Oh Harry… That must be so hard, especially in the Muggle World. I hope the homophobia hasn't been getting to you."

"Just a bit." Harry said with a wry smile. "I actually got run out of my first high school for being gay."

"Run out?" Ron asked, confused.

"Bullied, harassed, and then beaten." Harry said flatly. He shook his head. "I don't really want to talk about this. Just know that I'm in a better place now. Dalton doesn't allow homophobia in any shape or form, and everything's pretty great there. I'm the lead singer of the Warblers now."

"Warblers?" Hermione repeated, puzzled. Then she processed the rest of the sentence. "You sing?"

"Yeah," Harry said with a rueful grin. "I took lessons and everything."

"You have to perform for us some time then." Hermione decided, looking excited at the idea. "I would never have pegged your for a choir boy. I didn't even think you knew Muggle music!"

"Everett and Cristina taught me." Harry said, "Well, the radio did most of the work. They play the same songs over and over again, so it was kind of natural for me to pick up on the latest hits."

Ron tilted his head, confused. "What's a radio?"

"It's a… machine." Hermione explained, "It plays music, and there's a DJ—a host—who also speaks at times. It's for entertainment."

"Oh," Ron said, still looking lost. "Like a TV?"

"Kind of…" Hermione said. She smiled at Harry, "I've been trying to teach him more about the Muggle culture since we've had to hide out in Muggle towns pretty frequently during our Horcrux search. He's… sort of getting it."

"Speaking of learning about muggles," Harry began, "how's your family, Ron? Your dad? The twins' business doing okay?"

"Oh," Ron said, suddenly remembering. "You've missed a lot, haven't you? Let's see… Bill's gotten married to Fleur. Two years ago, actually."

"Wait, this is Fleur Delacour?" Harry interrupted incredulously. "The same one that _you_ were smitten with during our fourth year? The part-veela?"

Ron winced, glancing at Hermione warily. She was trying to feign nonchalant, but the tight purse of her lips was giving her away. "I have no feelings for her anymore. I swear!"

Hermione looked away from him. Ron sighed heavily, and then turned to Harry. He continued, "Anyways, we suspect that Fleur is pregnant right now, but nobody's really talked about it. Mum hasn't been pushing the issue because she knows that if a Death Eater found out, then… well. She doesn't want her first grandchild to die before they even got a shot at living, that's all. Everyone figures that if nobody talks about it, then there is less of a chance that the Death Eaters will find out."

"That's horrible!" Harry cried, horrified. "I thought you said the war wasn't going that poorly!"

"It isn't," Ron reassured him. "It's just a precaution."

"If you say so." Harry said dubiously. "Anything else? Is Charlie married yet?"

"No, not yet. He's is doing great, though. He no longer works in Romania; I think Mum's really happy about that. She's always been wary about the dragons. Anways, Dumbledore really needs his help back home, so Charlie's off doing odd jobs for the Order. Dunno exactly what he does, top secret and all that."

"A lot of things seem to be top secret." Harry noted.

Ron shrugged. "Yeah, Dumbledore is worried about spies. He says that if nobody knows everything that's going on, then everything would be a lot safer."

Hermione added, "We've already caught one spy in our midst: some random recruit from the Ministry that Mundungus brought in. Of course, nobody really trusted him because _Mundungus_ recruited him, and it was all for good reason too. The little snitch found out about an artifact we were looking for, and all of a sudden there was increased Ministry protection in the area it was rumored to be in!"

"Mundungus is still in the Order?" Harry asked incredulously. "You haven't kicked him out yet?"

"Moody's been trying." Hermione said, "But Dumbledore refuses to do anything about him. Everyone's pretty sure that Mundungus knows something that Dumbledore wants to keep secret. "

"Mum hates him, still." Ron said with a grin. "You should see the lectures she gives him whenever he comes to the Burrow. It's good to see her occupied with something else, though. Mum's been torn up about Charlie and Bill leaving all the time for Order missions." Ron confided, "But the twins and Ginny are trying keeping her occupied with their mischief. Ginny's dating some guy again, but she won't tell us who it is. Which, by the way, I think is rather suspicious."

"Ginny told _me_ who it was." Hermione cut in, looking at her boyfriend pointedly. "And he's perfectly suitable for her. Ron's just being overprotective."

"It's he's so great, then why doesn't she just tell us who he is?" Ron retorted. "I bet he's a Death Eater or some dark magic fanatic."

Harry cleared his throat, not wanting to hear them argue. It was only the first day he'd seen them in three years, yet he could already tell their bickering had not abated in the least. "And Percy? Is he still working for the Ministry now that it's been taken over by Voldemort?"

"Percy," Ron said with an odd grin. "Now there's a story. No, he quit the Ministry and now he's living in his lover's place. Get this, he's dating _Oliver Wood_."

"Oliver?" Harry's jaw dropped. "No way."

"Way." Ron said with a nod. "I know, it surprised me too. But with Oliver's help, Percy's become somewhat of a decent guy now. He's Oliver's manager for now, until he can find another job. It makes it a lot easier to talk to him now that he's more into Quidditch."

"Percy and Oliver…?" Harry repeated, still not able to get over that fact.

"They're cute together." Hermione said simply, smiling dreamily at the thought. "And on the note of cute gay guys, are _you_ dating anyone, Harry?"

"No," Harry said with a laugh. "In Ohio? Are you kidding me? I know a total of two gay guys other than myself, and one of them is already in love with someone else!"

"And the other?" Hermione asked slyly.

"Is my best friend." Harry said firmly.

"If you say so." Hermione said in a sing-song voice. "What's his name?"

"Kurt." Harry said, his voice softening. "Kurt Hummel."

"You'll have to introduce us someday." Ron said, slapping Harry on the back. "I've got to meet my replacement."

"He'll never be your replacement, Ron." Harry said with a grin. "Kurt's into fashion and musicals and Lady Gaga. He's the total opposite of you."

"Lady Gaga…?" Ron asked befuddled.

"He sounds like an interesting person to meet, Harry." Hermione said, ignoring her boyfriend.

"And he has the strangest stories too," Harry said. "He's in a rival Glee Club: the New Directions, they call themselves."

Ron smirked. "Doesn't that sound like—"

"Yes, Ron, we've realized." Hermione cut him off, rolling her eyes. "Continue, Harry?"

"And Kurt's got this mad eye for design. He redecorated my room with $50, can you believe it? And now it looks like it was styled by some high fashion New Yorker who has an odd taste for mauve." Harry said, sitting up straighter in the bed as he talked about his friend. "I went over to his house once, and he showed me this scrapbook that he created when he was four, or something. I swear he planned out every single detail that a wedding would need, with the different flowers, and the color schemes, and everything!"

Hermione smiled knowingly. "He must be a very close friend of yours, huh? Why do I have this feeling that you two will end up being more than friends later on?"

"Kurt and I are just friends." Harry retorted stanchly. "I can be best friends with a gay guy and not be in love with him."

"I doubt that." Sirius said, poking his head into the room. "Remus and I tried that for a good 20 years and it still didn't work out."

Harry scowled in his direction. "Were you listening outside the door or something?"

"Or something." Sirius said cheerfully. "So my little Prongs is gay as his beloved godfather, huh? It must run in the genes."

Harry rolled his eyes, grinning. "Of course, Sirius."

"Anyways, I came to call you down for dinner." Sirius said. "Your parents are great, by the way Harry. But Everett keeps on talking about this sport that's better than Quidditch, can you imagine it?"

"American football?" Harry asked, following Sirius down the stairs. "Yeah, I'd say they're both equally balanced in terms of my favorite sport. Quidditch is plain fun, but football requires you to have a lot more athletic ability."

"Blasphemy!" Ron said, his eyes wide. "Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?"

"Sorry Ron, but you just have to face the facts." Harry informed him seriously.

"I am so not hearing this." Sirius said, covering his ears. "What would James say? They've corrupted his baby boy!"

"It's just a sport…" Hermione mumbled to herself, rolling her eyes at their antics. "Boys."

Ron turned around to look at her. "Just a sport? Padfoot, we need to get away from these two right now. They're insulting the name of Quidditch! I can hardly stand to be in their presence."

Ron looped his arm around Sirius' and together, they stomped into the dining room. Harry smiled helplessly at Hermione, offering her his own arm. She accepted it, and together they went to dinner.

Suddenly, something struck Harry. "Wait, I didn't know Padfoot and Moony were together…" He mumbled thoughtfully.

Hermione sighed in exasperation. "I know, you tend not to be very observant when it comes to romantic matters. I suppose you didn't notice in 6th year when Sirius was bouncing off the walls? Or when Remus was always smiling for no reason or other? Even _Ron_ noticed they kept on staring at each other whenever we ate dinner in Grimmauld Place."

Harry thought hard back to those times. He slowly shook his head. "No, I don't recall anything like that happening."

Hermione smiled sympathetically. "I already feel bad for this Kurt guy," She murmured to himself. Merlin, Harry could be so oblivious sometimes.

XXX

A/N: I love Percy/Oliver (as you can obviously tell), but I've never written a PWOW fic. Hmmm, maybe I should?

So I've tallied up all of your responses for my question on whether I should make Klaine get together based on the cannon series or based on my own ideas. And you all unanimously declared that Klaine will happen in a way different from cannon! Of course, now I have no idea how to get them together, so I need your help again. **How would you like Blaine and Kurt to get together? **Dramatically? Romantically? Any and all suggestions are welcome!

And here, I am announcing my new **Intermission Series** fic! I'll be trans-posting (aka moving) the Intermission chapter I have in this fic over there, so don't be confused! I already have 3-4 Intermission one-shots planned. Most of the ideas I got were from reviewers (who didn't even intend on giving me ideas, but my brain just works in weird ways…)

So, if you have any ideas for Intermission one-shots, tell me through a review and I'll see if I can make it work!


	13. Wandless Magic

A/N: Oooh, I just found out I had a big plot conflict that I had never realized. I mentioned that Sirius was dead back in Chapter 2, but then had him alive in the previous chapter. Thanks to **HeyI'mTalkingToYou** for pointing it out! The few sentences that mentioned that Sirius was dead have been removed now.

And important Author's Note at the end!

XXX

**Chapter 12: Wandless Magic**

XXX

"Hey Moony," Harry said, stopping Remus as he was headed towards his room after dinner. "Is there some way I could speak with Professor Dumbledore soon? There's kind of something important I need to tell him."

"I can try," Remus said, "but Albus might be busy with Voldemort's latest raids. It seems the war is picking back up currently."

"Thanks," Harry said, relieved.

"It's no problem, Harry." Remus said with a smile. "It's nice having you back."

"And it's nice being back." Harry said softly. With one last pat on Harry's shoulder, Remus headed down the hallway towards his shared bedroom with Sirius. It had been quite a revelation to find out that the two of them were involved, but now that Harry knew, it was pretty obvious that they were in love.

He went back to his room to unpack and rest for a while. Although he had just arrived, he was a bit lonely being single in a house with three couples. He desperately wished for internet access or phone service, but being in a safe house, he knew they couldn't afford such things.

Harry hoped that the bullying situation with Kurt wasn't going too poorly while he was gone. If something happened while he was away… well, he would be wracked with guilt for a very long time.

A knock on his door disrupted his musings. "Harry, Dumbledore said he's available now, if you still want to talk to him." Remus said from the doorway.

"Alright, thanks." Harry said, rolling off his bed. He followed Remus into a room filled with bookshelves and a desk. Dumbledore was there, smiling genially, his eyes twinkling as always. Harry got the strangest sense of déjà vu as he entered—there was something about the atmosphere… it was almost like Dumbledore had transported his office in Hogwarts to the safe house, minus a few nick knacks here and there.

"Harry, it's good to see you, my boy. You've looking healthy." He said with a smile. Remus took that chance to duck out from the room, closing the door behind him.

Harry took a seat in the plush chair in front of the desk. "Professor Dumbledore," Harry greeted, "it's good to be back, even if it's temporary."

"Yes, I'm very sorry about that." Dumbledore said, his eyes dimming slightly. "I never expected the search to take three years. However, I hear you've been happy at your new school."

"Life in America is a lot… different." Harry said delicately. "I have a lot more time to myself, though, and it's a lot less stressful than Britain was."

"I bet," Dumbledore agreed. "Now, Remus said you wanted to speak to me about something private?"

"Yes," Harry said, trying to figure out how to explain his situation. "Something happened a few days ago. I was out on a picnic with my friends, and I felt a tingling in my scar all of a sudden. I couldn't see anyone around me when I checked because there were a lot of trees, but then my magic flared up and it was like I used an _Aperio_ because a person just lit up in the middle of the forest. I think they sensed that I could see them, because the person ran away after that."

"Someone was spying on you." Dumbledore said, his face grim. At Harry's nod, Dumbledore sighed. "I was afraid of that. Voldemort's influence has already reached well into the United States, and I'm afraid he somehow found out you weren't in Britain anymore. Reports have shown that he has Death Eaters scouring the world, looking for you."

"And he found me." Harry said, his mouth going dry.

"We don't know that," Dumbledore corrected him. "Your disguise is very sturdy—I hardly recognized you when you entered this room. I'm hoping that this spy of yours just recognized your presence, but didn't recognize your face. I will be checking into this though, so don't worry. If there is a danger to your life or the lives around you, then I will relocate you to a safer area."

"Oh, alright then." Harry said. He wasn't as optimistic as Dumbledore was, but as long as the Order was going to check it out, there was nothing more he could do. "Then what about the wandless magic?" He asked, bringing up the other problem. "I mean, this _is_ wandless magic, right? I can't imagine what else it would be."

"Yes, from your description, it does seem you have developed a talent for wandless magic." Dumbledore agreed, his eyes twinkling again. "I had expected something like this would occur after I took away your wand."

"You _knew_ this was going to happen?" Harry asked, partially dumbfounded and partially angry. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It was only a theory." Dumbledore said. "One that I was dubious about from the very start." Harry leaned forwards in his chair, sensing that Dumbledore was about to reveal something big.

"You're a rare case, Harry." Dumbledore continued. "You tend to accumulate more magic from your surroundings than normal wizards. Haven't you wondered why things just fortuitously went your way? My guess is that after three years of gathering magic from the earth and not using it for anything, you reached the maximum of how much magic could be stored in your body. Usually, excess magic escapes through a wizard's wand to maintain a sort of input-output balance inside the wizard. In your case, since you had no wand, the excess magic piled up until it manifested itself as wandless magic."

Harry thought about that for a second. "But… if all it takes to do wandless magic is to get rid of your wand for a few years, then why doesn't everyone else do it?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "I'm afraid you are unique in this respect. I think it has something to do with your genetics, mixed with Voldemort's influence, and probably the situation you find yourself in now. You're currently living in a muggle environment, where the natural magic of the earth is in strong abundance because there is no human magic interrupting it. You see, Harry, there are two types of magic: that of nature and that of creatures. Most wizards gain their strength from creature magic—from the residue of other wizards' spells. Natural magic is what comes from the earth.

"Normally, wizards cannot access this natural magic unless they use the ancient blood rituals of the druids, which have been lost for centuries now. If I was to place someone like your friend Ron in Celina, Ohio, he would lose in magical strength because he wouldn't be able to take in the natural magic from the earth. You, however, _can_ take in this natural magic, hence why you overloaded yourself with magic and are now releasing it in the form of wandless magic."

"Great," Harry said dryly, his brain processing that influx of information. "So am I going to spontaneously cast spells now? _That_ won't be obvious to anyone…"

"No, you are going to learn how to control it." Dumbledore declared. "You have a week including today. I'll send you a bunch of books about wandless magic. Most of them are theory only because normal wizards can only do the most basic of wandless magic, but I think they'll help you achieve a mastery over your magic. You can ask your friends and Remus and Sirius to help you go through them. And who knows, they might learn something themselves."

Harry nodded. "I can do that. Thank you, sir."

"You're most very welcome." Dumbledore said, standing up. "Now, maybe it's time for you to head off to bed. I need to be elsewhere—duty calls."

"Yes sir," Harry mumbled as he was shooed off to bed. As he headed down the hallway to his room, his mind was racing to comprehend all that Dumbledore had told him. Apparently, he was some kind of magic-sucking freak. Great. And his so-called vacation would now be taken up by studying. Ron and Sirius were going to freak when Dumbledore told them that they would have to help him learn wandless magic in a week.

Why did it seem that whenever he was in the Wizarding world, his life just went crazy? Now he really longed to be back in the Warbler practice room, singing his heart out, or even in the mall with Kurt, gossiping over the latest music idol.

Harry fell face-first onto his bed. Why him? Why now? Being Harry Potter stunk, he decided. The life of Blaine Anderson was so much better. He couldn't wait to get back.

XXX

"_Accio_," Harry said, holding out his hand. The pillow that Everett had been leaning on flew out from behind him and slapped into Harry's hand.

"Can you summon something else, please?" Everett grumbled as he readjusted on the couch.

"Sorry," Harry said, floating the pillow back to his dad.

"You've gotten quite good at that, Harry." Hermione said in appraisal. "Now, transfigure this pen into a notebook."

Harry scrunched up his nose, concentrating. Hermione grinned as the blue pen that she had been holding in her hand turned into a green spiral notebook.

"I think you're set." Remus said, watching the proceedings. "And just in time too, consider you're leaving tonight."

"Yeah, I know." Harry said with a sigh. With a wave of his hand, he transfigured the notebook back into a pen.

"At least you didn't spend your time here learning nothing." Hermione offered, knowing that the constant studying had been stressing Harry out all week. "Although it is kind of sad that we couldn't just hang out together. But this material is actually quite fascinating. This is a whole new branch of magic I never even considered looking into!"

"Oh Merlin, she's at it again." Ron said, collapsing on the couch next to Harry. He himself had learned some new tricks, as had all the others, but none of them could compare to the level of magic that Harry had been doing.

"Just lock all the books out of the bedroom." Sirius advised. "That's what I do when Moony finds some 'fascinating' new spell that he just _has_ to learn about."

"If only I could," Ron said sourly. "Hermione says the bedroom is for more than sex, it's also a haven for her books. Yeah right, she should try saying that when I'm—"

"Okay, that's enough information." Harry said loudly, slapping a pillow into Ron's face. He quickly checked to make sure neither Hermione nor Remus had heard what their partners were saying. "You two really need to deal with your problems without telling me all the dirty little details." Harry hissed at the two.

"Why, are you jealous?" Sirius teased. "I heard more about your 'friend'; there's no reason to be taking out your frustration on us."

"Of course you would have heard about Kurt…" Harry said, throwing up his hands. "And I suppose you think there's going to be something between us too?"

"Naturally," Sirius said smoothly. "And before you say anything else, it's _not_ just because he's the only gay, available friend you have. A little bird told me that you speak just a _little_ bit too much about him for it to be just casual."

"If that little bird is Hermione, then I'd say that she's analyzing my words way too much." Harry said huffily. "Everyone thinks there's something between Kurt and I, but there's not!"

"Or maybe there is and you just don't know it." Ron said. Harry stared at him, surprised. Ron folded his arms defensively. "What? I've learned something while you were away. I've had to learn to pick up on those subtleties ever since Hermione and I got serious. Besides, let's face it Harry, you aren't the most observant person around."

"And it must be true if _you're_ telling me so." Harry said sarcastically.

"Yeah," Ron agreed. He paused for a moment, and then frowned. "Hey, wait, was that an insult?" Harry laughed lightheartedly, feeling at peace even though their inevitable parting weighed heavily on the back of his mind.

As if it read his mind, the clock on the mantle let out a loud _dong!_, indicating the time. Their conversation was cut out abruptly as everyone took in the late hour.

"Oh, we have to get out of here soon." Cristina said, hopping up from her slouched position on the armchair. "Dumbledore said something about the magical something or other that will wear off if we overstay our welcome. Come on now, Everett, help bring the suitcases down! We'll leave Harry here to say our goodbyes."

Harry bit his lip, feeling the previous light atmosphere slip away as he watched his parents go up the stairs. He could already feel the emotions welling up inside of him—reluctance to leave, deep sadness, and maybe a little bit of anger at Voldemort as well. As if reading his mind, Hermione took his hands, breaking off the torment of thoughts whirling around in his head. "We'll see each other again." She promised him. "Soon."

"I know," Harry said, giving a weak smile. He hugged everyone goodbye, holding each and every one of them close to him. This might be the last time he saw them for a few years—and that was if everything went well and everyone stayed _alive_. He could feel the tears just vying to come out.

"Be safe and be happy." Sirius whispered into Harry's ear as he pulled him into a tight hug. "We'll do our best to keep things the same back at home."

Harry sniffed back a few stray tears as he walked out the door with Cristina and Everett. He could feel the instant change as they left the safe house. He turned around, hoping to see his friends one last time. They were there, waving from the doorway, and he smiled. Before he waved back, however, the safe house gave off this weird shimmer and then turned back into the decrepit building which was its muggle disguise.

Harry sighed and slumped down in the back seat of the car. He stared listlessly out the car, thinking of the life that he was missing back home. He mentally shook himself—he couldn't be thinking of this right now. It wasn't his place to be fighting in the war, not right now. His place was at Dalton, with his friends. Resolved, he put aside all thoughts of his life back in the Wizarding World. And so, by the time they returned home, Harry Potter was gone and Blaine Anderson was back.

XXX

A/N: Ugh guys, bad news. I might have to go on hiatus… Though I do have a lot more of this fic written, (like this chapter) I don't think it's publish-ready. And I don't have the time to go back and fix everything, what with schoolwork and planning for the NaNoWriMo. I'm really sorry—I didn't think I would have to do this! But I barely even updated today, so I can't imagine what next week is going to be like.

If I _do_ go on hiatus, I'll be back around Christmas time with a much more polished fic! I'll think about updating next week, but just know that if I don't, then schoolwork has consumed my life.

Again, I'm terribly sorry! I hate it when authors do this as well, and here I am doing it myself… The thought is making me horribly depressed.


	14. Danger

A/N: I'm back! Well, I've technically been back for five days now, but I didn't really feel like working so early in the break.

I bet you guys need to re-read the story to remember what's going on. Okay, go on then. Here's the next chapter!

XXX

**Chapter 14: Danger**

XXX

As soon as he got home, Blaine called Kurt. He had been worried throughout his weeklong "break" that the bullying may have gotten worse, to the point that Kurt could no longer handle it. He heard Kurt pick up the phone. "Hey Kurt, it's Blaine."

"Blaine!" He heard Kurt exclaim happily.

"How have you been?" Blaine asked. "This is probably the longest we've been without communication. It feels like I haven't spoken to you for months."

He heard Kurt laugh dryly. "Oh Gaga, you have no idea. It's actually _felt_ like months since the last time I had a break."

"What? Why?"

"Let's see, for starters my dad got married to Carole," Kurt said nonchalantly. "So guess what? Now Finn's my stepbrother!"

Blaine blinked, taken aback. "What? They were engaged?"

"Not when you were here." Kurt said airily. "They got engaged the day you left and were quickly married in a week. They said there was no point in waiting… although I certainly didn't appreciate that when I had to plan the entire wedding."

"That must have been fun." Blaine said, thinking back to Kurt's wedding scrapbook. "I'm guessing I don't need to ask if it was amazing."

"No, you don't." Kurt scoffed. "Of course it was amazing. And I hired the New Directions to sing, and we put on a number and everything! Finn even dedicated a song to me, if you can believe it." Kurt said with a laugh.

"Wow, I go away for one week and you plan a wedding. Maybe I should skip vacations altogether from now on." Blaine joked.

"How was your vacation, by the way?" Kurt asked.

"Great!" Blaine said, making up a lie on the spot. "I visited my grandparents, and my aunts and uncles came by to visit as well. I spent the entire week playing football with my cousins, and it was awesome."

"That sounds like fun," Kurt said, his tone slightly strained.

"Something happened." Blaine said quietly, sensing Kurt's distress. "With Karofsky?"

He could almost see Kurt attempt a smile. "Yeah, how did you guess?"

"What happened?" Blaine asked. "Was it bad?"

"Something like that…"

"Kurt…"

"Karofsky…" Kurt said, his voice cracking, "he threatened to kill me."

"Oh god, Kurt." Blaine said softly. "You have to tell someone!"

"Don't worry, my dad already found out." Kurt said, so quietly that Blaine had to strain to hear. "Blaine… I'm being transferred to Dalton."

Blaine paused, taken aback by the sudden news. "Wow, Kurt, that's great! Well, not really considering Karofsky threatened to kill you and all…" Blaine rambled. Wow, Kurt at Dalton… he never imagined that.

"I'm running away, aren't I?" Kurt's timid voice cut through his thoughts.

"No, no you're not." Blaine reassured him quickly. "It isn't running away if it's to protect your life." As soon as he said those words, Blaine remembered the weeks that he was guilt-wracked after leaving the Wizarding World. It had felt like he was giving up, surrendering to Voldemort. While he had known that leaving Britain was the most reasonable course of action, emotionally he hadn't been so convinced. This was what Kurt was feeling right now?

"Maybe it was just an empty threat." Kurt was talking again. "Maybe Karofsky was just scared so he was saying anything that came into his mind."

"Kurt, what if he isn't?"

Kurt was silent.

Blaine continued. "Kurt, you're not running away from your problems. Forget all that I said before, courage can only take you so far. This is your life we're talking about, and neither your parents nor I want you to die because of some scared bully. The way I see it is this: if you aren't leaving McKinley for your own sake, do it for mine. I don't know what I would do without you, Kurt, and I don't want to find out."

Kurt was quiet for a moment, and then he spoke. "Thanks, Blaine." He said, his voice thick with emotion. "I… really needed that."

"It's no problem." Blaine said. "What are friends for anyways? Besides, now you can join the Warblers and we can crush the New Directions at Sectionals."

Kurt laughed, though not as freely as he usually did. "I'm not sure if I want to join the opposition to beat my own team."

"You can't just neglect a talent like yours." Blaine argued. "Besides, we don't have a countertenor. You'd be narrowing down our song choices if you don't join us!"

"And I wouldn't want to stop you from singing more Katy Perry, would I?" Kurt asked sarcastically.

"Exactly!" Blaine crowed. He was happy that the depressed undertone in Kurt's voice was now gone, indicating that his attempt at making Kurt forget all his troubles had succeeded.

"But Gaga, those blazers…" Kurt said with a groan. "And I just went shopping for winter clothes too. What am I supposed to do with all of my Marc Jacob scarves now?"

"You could always donate them to charity." Blaine said innocently.

Kurt sputtered. "You… you're so lucky you're in Celina right now. But don't think I'll have forgotten that comment when I get to Dalton!"

Blaine grinned at the thought. "I don't expect you to. And what makes it even more perfect is that you'll be in most of my classes! That's the up-side to going to a small school with limited classes, huh?"

"You mean I'll have to see you _every day_?" Kurt asked dramatically. "This will be more torturous than I thought!"

"Oh please, you love me." Blaine said with a scoff.

There was a pause, and then Kurt forced out a laugh. "Yeah right." He said unconvincingly. Unsurprisingly, Blaine didn't notice.

"Sorry for calling you so late," Blaine apologized belatedly. "I'll see you in school tomorrow, right? Try to get a good night's sleep, and don't worry about anything. If you have any trouble, I'll be right there for you."

"Thanks, Blaine." Kurt said sincerely.

"Good night."

"Night."

XXX

Blaine was halfway through first period, the next day, when his scar began to hurt. Well, not hurt, per say, more like… prickle. It meant one of two things: Voldemort was either getting closer, or there was a Death Eater somewhere nearby. Neither of the above boded well for Blaine.

Maybe he should contact Dumbledore again, just in case. But no, there was nothing Dumbledore could do unless he had solid proof that his life was in danger. It was trouble enough relocating him in America, let alone moving him _again_ because Blaine thought there was a threat.

It was probably paranoia, Blaine convinced himself. Now that he mastered wandless magic, he was itching to use it, and was thinking up excuses that would require him to use his magic. Yes, there was no problem. He didn't have to tell Dumbledore anything.

Just as Blaine had decided, Kurt appeared, in his full Dalton uniform. Kurt grinned happily, "Blaine! This school is so awesome; nobody pushed me or anything when I was walking in the hallway. And these hallways make me feel like I'm in some fancy manor, or something."

"Kurt," Blaine said with a automatic smile. "You look great. Don't worry, you'll soon get sick of the lavish decorations of the school. Where were you first period? I didn't see you."

"Signing in and getting all my stuff." Kurt said with a shrug. "Since my transfer was so abrupt, they haven't gotten everything settled yet, so I had to fill out some forms. Hey, could you tell me where the French classroom is? I kind of ditched my student advisor person to catch up to you."

"Sure, just make a left and it's the third classroom to your left."

"Great, thanks," Kurt said. "I think I'll go introduce myself to the teacher before class begins. I'll see you next period, right?"

"In Physics, yeah." Blaine agreed. He watched as Kurt weaved his way through the crowd of blazers, easily fitting right in. He had to remember to get Kurt an audition for the Warblers as soon as possible! They could definitely use his voice for Sectionals.

As if called by his thoughts, Wes and David turned the corner, laughing rambunctiously.

"Hey, Wes, David." Blaine said, squeezing his way between the two. "Kurt's at Dalton!"

"Yes, Blaine, we know." Wes said patronizingly. "You've told us he was coming yesterday, remember?"

"Yeah," Blaine said, waving off his remark. "Anyways, I was thinking to get him an audition for the Warblers."

"Sure," David agreed easily. "The Warbler rulebook states that transfer students should be allowed the chance to audition in the case that there are available spots in the group, which there are. But we'll have to do this fast. Sectionals are soon and we have to decide on our set list today. So have him audition during lunch so we don't waste practice time."

"Great, I'll tell Kurt!" Blaine said with a grin.

"And I'll get Thad." Wes said distractedly. "Tell Kurt to meet us in the Warbler practice room. While we're auditioning him, could you look through the sheet music that Thad picked out? We need your input on what would suit us the best when we're competing against the New Directions."

"Sure thing," Blaine said, happy that they agreed to Kurt's audition so easily. "I'll see you two at practice."

"And hopefully we'll have a new member by then." David said with a smile.

"We will," Blaine said confidently, "I trust Kurt."

XXX

"Mom, Dad, I'm home!" Blaine called out, throwing his car keys on the table near the door. He let his bag fall down near the couch, sighing at what an awful mess the day had been. To start it off, his scar was just irritating him, yet he wasn't allowed to touch it for fear of smudging the concealer and revealing the scar. And the whole mess with Kurt at Warbler practice… that had just been awkward.

He felt kind of bad that he hadn't been more supportive of Kurt's ideas, yet at the same time it was true that Kurt needed to… tone it down a bit to fit in at Dalton. He already could see his friend would struggle at the more conservative school.

"Maybe I can get him a solo audition to cheer him up." Blaine mumbled to himself, shrugging off his blazer as he entered the kitchen.

He spotted a note on the fridge. "_Blaine, both your father and I were called away to work tonight. Dinner's in the microwave. I love you!"_ Cristina had written.

Blaine shrugged and took out the food. This had happened a few times before, and he didn't mind it all that much. He sat down at the counter to eat, shifting through the mail absentmindedly.

Suddenly, something caught his eye. It was a letter from his dad's company, but it didn't seem like the usual business letter. No, something felt off… Blaine opened it, brushing off the slight twinge of guilt as he did so.

The news left a horrible pit in his stomach. From what he saw, Everett's company was in danger of going bankrupt and his dad might lose his job. This was bad, very bad. He had learned, while at the safe house, that the Order didn't have enough funds to supply all their members, so Cristina and Everett weren't getting paid at all anymore. So his Dalton expenses, and all the Warbler stuff… they weren't going to be able to afford it anymore.

He put down the letter grimly. Judging by the looks of the letter, his father had known of his soon-to-be unemployment for quite some time now. And neither his mom nor his dad had given any mention of this pending crisis. This led Blaine to one conclusion: they weren't plan on telling him. They were probably going to keep dipping into their savings to keep him safe and happy at Dalton while they were struggling with the funds.

No, he couldn't let them do that. Blaine picked up the newspaper that Everett had left sitting on the counter. He had to help them; he had to get a job.

Blaine chewed his food thoughtfully, searching through the limited "Help Wanted!" section of the newspaper. It would be tough getting a job in this economy, but he would do it. He had to.

XXX

A/N: I'm still trying to pick back up my writing habits, but it isn't going so well. Despite my struggles, updates will be once-per-week, as usual. I'll try to get working on the Intermission series as well!

But for all of you waiting for that NaNoWriMo Merlin/HP xover I was talking about… probably not going to happen. I know, I'm unhappy too! And I even bought a notebook and everything to plan it out, but it's just way to big and I don't have the patience at the moment. Please accept my apology.

And just a side note, why isn't Pottermore up yet? She said October (or was it November? Well, it was some time ago), and now it's December and there's nothing! Is anyone else frustrated with this?


	15. Chasing Cars

A/N: I meant to update on Sunday, but that didn't happen…

I have no idea where this chapter came from, by the way. It's totally screwing with my outline, but I like it too much to keep it out!

XXX

**Chapter 15: Chasing Cars**

XXX

Blaine cringed a little inside as Kurt sang _Don't Cry for Me, Argentina_ for his solo audition. That probably wouldn't go over well with the selection committee... Blaine personally loved the song, and loved Kurt's version especially. But it just wasn't the Warblers. He applauded politely along with everyone else, trying to think of something to say to Kurt when he didn't get the solo.

As Nick began his song, Blaine let his mind drift to his job interview that he had tomorrow. This would be his fifth interview—a part time job at the mall, this time—and he had high hopes that it would go well. Working in a music store, what could be a better fit for him than that?

But if he didn't get this job, then what would happen next? There were always the option of picking up cans off the highway, but that probably wouldn't do much good…

Blaine snapped back to attention when everyone applauded. He reprimanded himself for not paying attention to his friend's performance.

Wes stood up. "Thank you all for you performances. Please step out into the hallway while the committee decides who will move onto the next round of the auditions."

Blaine smiled at Nick, Jeff, and Kurt as they filed out of the room. This wasn't going to end well.

XXX

"Hey guys," Blaine said, opening the door. "Nick, Jeff, congrats you've moving on." The two jumped up in excited relief, hugging each other. Blaine grinned at them as they passed him, headed back into the room.

Blaine's smile faded when he looked back at Kurt.

"Any sage advice?" He asked primly, his back straight as a board.

"Don't try so hard next time." Blaine said, wincing as the words came out of his mouth. He could already see this conversation was doomed to failure.

"I didn't realize that caring was frowned upon." Kurt said softly.

"I don't know how it worked at your old school, but did you notice that we all wear uniforms around here?" Blaine asked rhetorically, unconsciously repeating something he had heard Wes tell the newest Warblers when they were accepted. "It's about being part of the team."

"I guess I'm used to having to scream to get noticed." Kurt said sheepishly, letting the tension seep out from his spine.

"You're not going to make it as a Warbler if all you care about is getting noticed." Blaine told him as gently as he could.

"You're right. I'm sorry." Kurt said, looking down.

"I know it's going to take some getting used to. But you'll fit in soon enough." Blaine said sincerely. "I promise."

Kurt smiled weakly.

"How about I drive you home?" Blaine asked, trying to make it up to him. "Your dad is coming in half an hour, right? I'll just save him the trouble, and we can hang out a little bit more."

"Yeah, okay." Kurt said, his voice still subdued. "You know, I didn't expect everything to be so… different. It's hard."

"I know," Blaine said, leading Kurt to his car. "But… you're safe. And isn't that what matters?"

"I guess." Kurt said glumly. "I know I should be grateful—my parents are giving up their honeymoon for me!—but I still miss my old school. Well, I miss the New Directions, at least."

"You can still see them on the weekends." Blaine suggested. As he was unlocking his car, he saw a figure run away from the school towards the forest. He watched the shadow with narrowed eyes, looking back to where they had been standing. Was that… the Warbler practice room? No… Blaine dropped his keys in shock.

"Blaine?" Kurt's tentative question snapped him out of his thoughts. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine." Blaine replied distractedly. So the tingling in his scar… it _was_ because a Death Eater had been spying on them. But then, why didn't he _do_ anything? Surely he knew by now that Blaine didn't have his wand on him.

"If it's too much trouble to drive me home, then I can wait." Kurt said, noticing that something was off with Blaine.

"No, it's no trouble." Blaine said absently. He began driving towards Lima, scanning the road for any sign of the Death Eater.

"If you say so." Kurt said uneasily. He sat there quietly listening to the radio as Blaine focused on the road. Kurt glanced at Blaine from the corner of his eye. It was like Blaine was ignoring him or something… either way, he didn't like it. There was definitely something wrong, and Blaine wasn't telling him about it.

"So how were your classes?" Blaine asked five minutes later, having given up on his search for Death Eaters.

"Fine, since you're in most of them." Kurt said.

"Wow, I'm flattered," Blaine said teasingly.

"I didn't mean it like that," Kurt said, his face slightly pink. "I mean that they're challenging, more than classes at McKinley had been. I quite like them, actually; it's been a while since I've had to think during school."

"Wow, harsh." Blaine said with a laugh. "Public school isn't _that_ bad."

"No," Kurt conceded, "But I was a bit distracted at the beginning of the school year, so I didn't pick the hardest classes. Everyone always says how junior year is so impossible and stressful, but I just don't see it."

"Well, we do have to start thinking about college," Blaine said slowly, thinking back to what he knew about the American school system. "And don't you have the SAT's soon?"

"Well yeah," Kurt said, "if I plan on getting into NYU, then I have to work hard."

"NYU, huh?" Blaine said with a knowing grin. "Where have I heard that before… Hm, wait a minute, didn't you tell me that you've been talking about going there since you were six?"

"Shush, you." Kurt said, slapping him lightly.

"Careful now, we don't want to crash." Blaine warned him jokingly.

"If we crash because of that tiny hit, then I'll be very disappointed in you." Kurt replied dryly.

"Well, you're a big, strong football player," Blaine said, grinning, "And I can't help it if my poor, fragile body is flung aside by your powerful shove."

"Finn told you about that?" Kurt asked incredulously. "Well, forget all about that. It was just a phase—one that I want to forget."

"Well, I think it's cool." Blaine stated. "I never would have thought you were a football player. Cheerleader seems to be more of you thing."

"Been there, done that." Kurt said, smiling smugly when Blaine turned his head to briefly look at him in disbelief.

"And I was just kidding." Blaine said with a whistle. "What else don't I know about you, Kurt Hummel?"

"If you don't know something about me, then you probably weren't meant to know it." Kurt said.

"And that just makes me more determined to find out." Blaine said, getting pumped up by the challenge. "Let's see… you're into fashion, interior designing, wedding planning, football, cheerleading, Broadway..."

"I'm not into football." Kurt scoffed. "I did it to prove that I wasn't gay."

"And how did that work out for you?" Blaine asked, lifting his eyebrow.

"Well, not very well." Kurt admitted, "My dad knew already, apparently."

"You _are_ kind of a walking stereotype." Blaine said slowly.

"I am not!" Kurt replied, affronted. He paused. "Well, maybe a little. Um, wait, exit here. There's a shortcut to get to my house."

Blaine complied, slowing down as he exited the highway. "Right? Left?"

"Make a left at this light." Kurt instructed, "And then turn right at the second light, and then right again."

Blaine carefully maneuvered his way through the streets, his attention completely focused on finding the turns. It was a lot harder now that the sun had set…

"Yeah, here." Kurt said. The drove for a few minutes longer, when Kurt suddenly spoke again, "I think someone's following us."

"What?" Blaine asked, his heart leaping in his chest. Merlin no, there couldn't be Death Eaters now, not while Kurt was with him. He wouldn't even be able to protect himself without giving away his magic!

"They're been tailing from afar for quite some time." Kurt said. "I only noticed because I once drove with Puck when he was stalking our old Science teacher—" He saw Blaine's face. "Yeah, don't ask. Anyways, the people following us aren't very good at all. For one, they're too close. I'd say they don't do this very often."

"Oh god," Blaine said, freaking out. He tried to look through the windshield to see the faces of their stalkers, but the headlights blinded him. "What should we do?"

"Calm down, Blaine." Kurt said, still watching the car behind them. "Let's continue to my house. If they try to do something, my dad has a gun."

"That might not help us!" Blaine protested. He didn't want to bring Kurt's family into what might be a wizard's duel.

"Blaine, they're probably just from Vocal Adrenaline." Kurt told him soothingly. "They're not going to beat us up or anything. This has happened before—the worst they can do is emotional damage. So as long as you don't go fall in love with any of them, you're fine."

"And what if they're not crazed students?" Blaine retorted, picking up his speed slightly.

"Who else would they be?" Kurt asked. "The mafia?"

"Something like that…" Blaine muttered, sloppily turning down the nearest street he saw. "We're not heading towards your house. I couldn't endanger your family like that."

"Blaine, what are you talking about?" Kurt asked, panicking himself. "Did you do something illegal? Oh Gaga, you didn't take anything from a loan shark, did you? And now they're trying to kill you. Blaine!"

"I didn't borrow money from a loan shark!" Blaine said, speeding down the street now. "Where do I go now? Are they still following us?"

"I don't know, I don't see them…" Kurt said, twisting his body to face the rear window. "Wait, yes, yes they're still following us. Drive, Blaine!"

"Hold on…" Blaine said, gritting his teeth. He reentered the highway, aggressively weaving through cars. "Are they still there?"

"I can't see." Kurt said, squinting. "The lights are too bright. All the cars look the same."

"Okay, calm down." Blaine said, taking a deep breath himself. "They can't do anything to us with all these people around. Now Kurt, can you call my parents for me? Put them on speaker phone."

"Yeah," Kurt said, fumbling with Blaine's bag. He dialed Blaine's home number and put the phone next to Blaine.

The two of them heard it ring once, twice, and then Everett picked up. "Hello, Everett Anderson speaking."

"Dad!" Blaine said, glancing at his rear view mirror. "I'm here with Kurt and I think we're being followed."

"Followed? By who?" Everett asked. Blaine could hear him scrambling in the background.

"We don't know." Blaine said grimly. "They're not very discreet; Kurt says they don't have much experience with stalking people by cars. I can only think of one person who would do this."

"I'm calling for backup now." Everett said, "Drive home and we'll take care of it from there. Kurt, Blaine, you're going to be alright. I have to hang up now; drive carefully."

"Thanks Dad," Blaine said, a lot more relaxed now that he knew Dumbledore would take care of it.

Kurt hung up the phone and stared accusingly at Blaine. "You said you weren't involved in the mafia!"

"I'm not!" Blaine said, "Well, not really. They're not the mafia _per say_…" Although he could see how the Death Eaters could be related to the American mafia… They had the terrorizing thing down pat.

"You have a lot of explaining to do, Blaine." Kurt said, holding on tight as Blaine veered off the highway.

"I know." Blaine muttered, jerking the car down a private street. He quickly pulled into his driveway and leapt out of the car. He hurried Kurt into the house and slammed the door behind him. Everett and Cristina were waiting at the door, tensely.

"Does he know?" Cristina asked, glancing at Kurt.

"No, I didn't tell him anything." Blaine said, noticing that all the window blinds were closed.

"Let's try to keep it that way." Everett said. "Blaine, take Kurt to your room. We don't want anyone to have to _forget_ something if they don't have to." He said meaningfully.

Blaine nodded. The _Obliviate_ had a strange effect on muggles, one that was just coming to view right now. There were still studies being done, but Blaine could safely say that he didn't want Kurt obliviated_._

"Blaine, what's going on?" Kurt hissed as he was dragged up the stairs. Blaine whipped his own curtains closed so Kurt couldn't see anything.

"Kurt, please," Blaine pleaded, hearing sounds outside. No doubt the Order members were capturing whoever had been following them. "I would tell you if I could, but I can't."

"We were just involved in a scene that could've been taken straight out of _Speed_ and you seriously aren't going to tell me what's going on?" Kurt asked incredulously.

"I know you're scared right now," Blaine said, clasping Kurt's hand in his own. "And I know you probably won't speak to me again after this, but until then can you just… trust me?" He stared earnestly into Kurt's own eyes, trying to convey the urgency of the situation.

Kurt took a deep breath and nodded. "Fine, I'll trust you. And I'm guessing you don't want me telling other people what just happened."

"Please don't…" Blaine said, straining to hear for any sound of fighting outside.

They both jumped when there was a knock on Blaine's door. "It's over, guys. You can come on out." Everett called through the wood.

Blaine swung open the door, looking down the hallway for any sign of the Order. "What happened?" He asked, following Everett downstairs. Kurt trailed them from a distance, his nerves still strung over the events of the evening.

"We still don't know." Everett said. "They've got the two people who were following you, but we have to wait to hear what they find out."

"I'm sorry about that, Kurt." Cristina apologized. "Why don't you stay for dinner? You should give you dad a call—he's probably worried about you now."

"And I won't mention the stalker or the mysterious mafia-like behavior, right?" Kurt asked Blaine sarcastically.

"Right." Blaine said with a grin.

Kurt shook his head in amusement. He wandered off into the living room to make the call.

"He's taking this pretty well," Everett commented, placing down four plates at the table. "What did you tell him?"

"Nothing," Blaine said honestly. "If he knew… well, first of all it would endanger his life. I don't want to drag him into something that is not his problem."

They stopped talking when Kurt reentered the room. "My dad said it's fine as long as I get back by 10." He sat down at the table awkwardly.

"So, um…" Blaine said, not knowing what to say.

"We're singing _Hey, Soul Sister_ for Sectionals next weekend, right?" Kurt asked casually, trusting in Blaine to tell him anything he needed to know.

"Yeah, it's going to be awesome." Blaine said, relieved that Kurt wasn't going to push the subject. "Your New Directions friends had better watch themselves."

"I don't know if I should be offended on their behalf or if I should agree with you." Kurt said, wiping his mouth delicately with the napkin.

"You should agree with me." Blaine said, "You're a Warbler now." He hoped that their conversation meant that Kurt wasn't going to cut off all contact with him. Until that day came, however, Blaine wasn't going to think about it. No, now with this possible Death Eater appearance, he had a lot more to worry about.

XXX

A/N: If I write enough, I'll try to update this so it can be completed soon. I really, _really_ hope inspiration strikes me again, because it just hasn't been coming recently.

And I apologize to all the reviewers that I didn't respond to! I just thought it would be best if I got up a chapter instead... Just know that all of your comments are very (very, VERY) appreciated! They're the only thing keeping my internal editor from tearing me to shreads from self-doubt.


	16. Back to Normal

A/N: I feel really bad for going on what is basically a year long hiatus, and I still want to finish this fic even though inspiration has long left me. Luckily, I still have my outline from last year, so I'll be working to just complete this fic so I don't have to feel guilty that I'm letting you all down.

**Music for this chapter: **Misery by the Warblers (kind of)

XXX

**Chapter 15: Back to Normal**

XXX

A day had passed since the big Death Eater scare, and none of the Andersons had heard anything from the Order since. Blaine knew that meant something big had happened, but he didn't know if it was for better or for worse. But until word came to do otherwise, Blaine was continuing his life as a normal muggle teenager. So that meant continuing with his job search, which in turn meant going to the mall.

Normally Blaine would be excited to go to the mall. It was always full of vibrant sounds and sights, and it was generally a great place to be. However, getting rejected for yet another job offer was not something he was happy about.

Blaine stepped gloomily out of the seventh store. People weren't kidding when they said it was hard to find jobs; this was ridiculous! He thought about going back home now that he didn't have a purpose to be at the mall anymore, but decided against it. Blaine wandered aimlessly through the mall, lost in thoughts of how to possibly get a job.

He stopped with he saw a crowd of people circled around something. Blaine strained to see over the heads of the people. These Americans were just way too tall! Eventually, he chose instead to weave his way through the crowd to the front.

"Excuse me," He said repeatedly, "Sorry, excuse me."

Finally, he reached the front of the crowd. It was a music show; there was a stage set up and everything, with large speakers and a band. Blaine saw some people fiddling with the speakers attached to the guitars. The guitarist kept on playing notes, but no sound was coming out. He could see the manager panicking in the background because the crowd was getting restless. Blaine could see many people already leaving, not interested enough to wait for the sound speakers to be fixed.

The manager ran up to the stage and took the microphone from the lead singer. "Hi everyone," He said, smiling brightly at the crowd. "Sorry for the delay. Don't worry, we'll have the speakers up and running in a short while. We have an exciting show planned out for you by this band right here. And don't forget, all donations will go to charity!" He cried out, trying to convince the departing crowd to stay.

Blaine was close enough to the stage that he could hear the manager even when he wasn't talking into the speaker. "Do something!" The manager hissed to the lead singer. "This is your only chance! There are scouts here, waiting to hear you perform. If you don't do anything, then you can say goodbye to a recording contract!"

"What do you want me to do?" The singer asked angrily, "I can't sing without my band. You want me to start doing magic tricks?"

"If it keeps the crowd entertained, then yes!" The manager said, his face turning red. "This is a great opportunity for me too, so don't mess it up!"

The singer took the mike again. Blaine saw she looked really nervous and at a loss of what to do. He could see her breaking out into a sweat, looking at her band mates for any idea on a way to entertain the crowd.

"Just choose a song!" Blaine called out encouragingly, maneuvering so he was right next to the stage.

She looked from him to the talent scouts, who all had disapproving faces and were making notes on their clipboards. "I can't," she said, her nerves getting the better of her. "I don't know what to sing!"

"Just…" Blaine looked back at the disappearing crowd. If he didn't do anything, the talent scouts would probably leave before the band even performed. He really didn't want that to happen to the band and their manager simply because a speaker wasn't working. "Here, give me that." He said, hoisting himself on the stage.

The lead singer gave him the microphone and stepped back, looking at him expectantly. Blaine walked over to where the other three members stood.

"Okay, so if we don't do something soon, your crowd is going to disappear and you're going to lose this recording contract." Blaine said, looking at their faces earnestly. "So I have an idea. I sing acapella at my school, and I think we can make something simple work. Just back me up as well as you can." He really hoped they could harmonize on the spot, but there was nothing he could do about it if they couldn't. He turned back towards the crowd.

"Hello everyone," Blaine said, looking out into the crowd. "How are you all doing right now? I know most of you are impatient and you don't want to wait for the speaker to be fixed, but I think this band will be worth your while, don't you?"

He got no response from the crowd, but continued anyways. "But until then, how about I warm you up for them." He motioned for the band to start singing the opening melody. "Sing along if you know this song," He shouted to the crowd.

_Oh yeah_

_Oh yeah_

_So scared of breaking it that you won't let it bend_

_And I wrote two hundred letters I will never send_

_Sometimes these cuts are so much deeper than they seem_

_You'd rather cover up, I'd rather let them be_

He grinned when he saw people turn back and begin to cheer him on. The band behind him was also getting into the swing of singing the background music. Merlin, this was such a rush. Blaine began dancing around the stage, encouraging the audience to sing along.

_So let me be_

_I'll set you free_

_I am in misery_

_There aint nobody who can comfort me, oh yeah_

_Why won't you answer me?_

_The silence is slowly killing me, oh yeah_

Now everyone was signing along, and even the talent scouts were smiling. Blaine kicked his performance up a notch, grabbing the lead singer to dance with him.

_Girl you really got me bad_

_You really got me bad_

_Now I'm gonna get you back_

_I'm gonna get you back_

_You say your faith is shaken, and you may be mistaken_

_You keep me wide awake and waiting fot the sun_

_I'm desperate and confused, so far away from you_

_I'm getting there, I don't care where I have to roam_

Blaine grabbed a drum stick from the drummer's hand and started banging onto the drums in time with the music. The crowd began clapping along to the beat as well.

_Why do you do what you do to me yeah?_

_Why won't you answer me, answer me yeah?_

_Why do you do what you do to me yeah?_

_Why won't you answer me, answer me yeah?_

_I am in misery_

_There aint nobody who can comfort me, oh yeah_

_Girl you really got me bad_

_You really got me bad_

_Now I'm gonna get you back_

_I'm gonna get you back_

The crowd burst into cheers and applause. The guitar speaker took this opportunity to loudly screech back to life. Blaine bowed, "It seems like the speaker is working again, so without further ado, here's your entertainment for tonight!"

He handed the microphone back to the lead singer and slid off the stage. The manager accosted him before he could go join the audience.

"That was amazing!" The manager gushed. "Thank you; you really saved the day. Here," He stuffed $50 into Blaine's hand. "For helping me keep my job."

"No, this isn't necessary," Blaine said, trying to give the money back. "I just felt bad for you guys, that's all. I'm sure anyone else would have done the same thing if they could have."

"Are you kidding me?" The manager asked in disbelief. "Most people would be too frightened to even get up on stage, let alone give a great performance like that. Here," The manager handed Blaine a business card. "If you ever need a job, I can hook you up with a gig. They would be small jobs, but money is money, right?"

"Thanks," Blaine said slowly. He stared at the business card. "You really could get me a job?"

"With your talent? Absolutely. Besides, I owe you one." The man said confidently.

"Well then," Blaine said, a smile growing on his face. "I could use your help."

XXX

"Kurt, you'll never guess what just happened to me." Blaine said during his nightly calls to Kurt. "I just got a gig singing at some café because I sang a song when his band's guitar speaker wasn't working."

"You what?" Kurt asked incredulously.

"I got a job!" Blaine exclaimed. "It pays pretty well too, so I'll be able to help with my tuition costs."

"That's awesome, Blaine!" Kurt said. "What did he say?"

"Well, he wants me to learn the guitar…" Blaine said. "But I don't want to pay for lessons. Is there any chance you could teach me for free?"

"No," Kurt said apologetically. "But I think I know someone who can. Don't worry, he owes me a favor. This should actually work out pretty well…"

XXX

Blaine drove up to a small, blue house in the poorer side of Lima. He looked at the address in his hand and checked the number of the house.

"This is it." He mumbled to himself. He strode up to the door and rang the doorbell. After no reply for a good minute, he rang the doorbell again. Where there was still no response, he tried knocking.

"What do you want?" Noah Puckerman opened the door, glaring at him.

"Hi, I'm Blaine," He stuck out his hand to shake. "We met during the New Direction-Warbler picnic, remember? Did Kurt tell you I was coming over?"

"You mean when he practically blackmailed me into teach you the guitar?" Puck asked, letting him in.

"It must be something big, then." Blaine said calmly, not threatened in the least by the muscles and Mohawk. He could practically feel his magic humming underneath his skin, waiting for any command to do as he willed.

"Let's get started, then." Puck said. "Do you have a guitar?"

"No, I didn't know which type to buy." Blaine replied.

Puck sighed. "Alright, let's go then. I can't teach you anything if you don't even have the instrument."

"I don't have much money…" Blaine said hesitantly. "That's why I need this job in the first place."

"Trust me, this is a good investment." Puck said, hopping into Blaine's car as if he owned it himself. "I played my baby in the school courtyard and got $300 for one song. It's more than worth its money."

"I heard you threatened people to pay while you were playing." Blaine said, ignoring Puck's growl at that comment. "Anyways, where are we headed?"

"There's this really cheap store by the mall," Puck said, "The owner owes me something. I could get you a discount. Could you spare $50?"

"Wow," Blaine said, glancing at Puck. "These are the times I admire you tough guys."

"Yeah, the perks are worth the time in juvie." Puck agreed. "Drive faster, I have to be done by 6."

"Do you think you could teach me the basics by next weekend?" Blaine asked.

"Depends on how fast you can learn." Puck said with a shrug. "And how well you listen. From now on, you're not allowed to question anything I say, okay? Alright, now you guard the door while I talk to the owner of this store."

Blaine gulped. Why did it seem like Puck was about to do something illegal?

XXX

"Kurt, your friend is officially insane." Blaine told Kurt while on the bus to sectionals the next day. "I don't know what he said to the owner of that music shop, but I got a guitar for free, and that isn't right."

Kurt winced. "Yeah, it sounds pretty illegal to me. Just don't ask him about it, and you'll be fine in case the police come. But hey, at least you have a guitar now!"

"This goes against every single moral fiber in my body…" Blaine mumbled.

"You'll get used to it." Kurt reassured him. "So where's this gig of yours? Maybe I can bring Rachel and Mercedes and we can cheer you on."

"It's in some place called the Lima Bean." Blaine said. "Have you ever heard of it?"

"No," Kurt said, "but I'm guessing it's in Lima."

"You could be the next Einstein with that intuition." Blaine deadpanned. "But seriously, I'm worried that I won't learn how to play the guitar in time. Puck isn't the most… instructive of teachers. He just shows me how to do a chord and expects me to follow."

"I could talk to him for you," Kurt offered.

"No, no that would just be ungrateful." Blaine said quickly. "I can handle it."

"Well, if you say so…" Kurt said doubtfully. Their conversation was interrupted by Wes, standing up in the front of the bus.

"Warblers," He said loudly, "we're arriving at Sectionals. David and I will be determining the order of the performances, so you be on your best behavior while you wait. Now let's go win this thing!"

The Warblers cheered at that, and Wes sat down. Blaine looked at Kurt with an eyebrow cocked. "You ready?"

"Of course," Kurt said confidently, "We can't lose."

XXX

A/N: Please be patient with me in regards to updates! I'm being super critical of my writing right now because I just reread everything I wrote for this fic (I hate reading what I wrote a few months ago—it makes me feel embarrassed and kind of awkward whenever I find something that I don't like). Have a nice first day of June!


	17. Never Dramafree

A/N: Sorry for the late update! I suddenly got an unpaid job, so now I have a lot less free time than expected.

Music for this chapter: Hey Soul Sister by the Warblers

XXX

**Chapter 16: Never Drama-free**

XXX

"Okay, Warblers, we're on in five minutes!" Thad called out from the hallway.

Kurt leaned back in his chair, completely relaxed. "You know," He commented to Blaine, "it's nice not to have drama before a performance. When I was with the New Directions, there was always a fight that broke out minutes before a big competition."

"Yeah, I saw you talking with Rachel before." Blaine remembered. "What is the big problem now?"

"Well apparently Finn lied to Rachel and said he didn't do it with Santana." Kurt summarized, "But he actually did, and everyone except Rachel knew about it. And then Santana just _had_ to provoke her before Sectionals and now Rachel isn't talking to Finn. I'm guessing she might even refuse to go on stage with him, but Mr. Schuester will force them to anyways."

"Wow," Blaine said, "your lives could be a television show."

"I know," Kurt agreed, "And the best part is that I don't even know the whole story. That's definitely not the only drama that's going on in the New Directions right now."

"Well, I'm glad the Warblers aren't that excitable." Blaine said, sharing a smile with Kurt.

As if he was called on cue, Jeff leapt up out of his chair. "You are unbelievable!" He hissed to Nick.

"What? What did I do?" Nick asked, confused. He was holding his cell phone in one hand and was slouched against the couch next to Jeff.

"You're seriously asking me that?" Jeff asked incredulously.

Kurt eyed the situation and made a knowing noise. "So it finally boiled over, huh?"

"What's happening?" Blaine asked, looking from Kurt to Jeff. "Do you know something?"

"It's pretty obvious," Kurt said, "but I'm not surprised you didn't see what was happening. But Jeff did tell me you were pretty oblivious."

"I am not!" Blaine protested.

"Shush," Kurt cut off his protests. "And just listen. I think Jeff's at his breaking point."

"You're such a jerk!" Jeff shouted, "I'm right here, talking to you, and you're sexting two different girls at the same time. You know what you are, Nick? You're a pig!"

"Why are you getting so angry over this?" Nick said, standing up as well. "It's none of your business who I date."

Jeff's face was slowly turning red. "I'm in love with you, Nick. You know that. And I know you don't return my feelings, but the least you could do is not flaunt that in my face."

"Ooh," Blaine said, finally understanding. Kurt just sighed at how long it took for it to click.

"I'm not flaunting anything!" Nick shouted, "It's not my fault you're in love with me. I'm just doing what I normally do."

"And didn't it cross your mind for one second that doing 'what you normally do' wouldn't be the most sensitive thing to do when I'm talking to you?" Jeff asked angrily.

"If you don't like it so much, why don't you just go somewhere else?" Nick countered icily.

"I think I will." Jeff said tersely, and he stormed out the door.

"Jeff, wait, we're on in a minute!" Wes called after him.

"And you said there was no drama in the Warblers." Kurt said to Blaine. "I'll go get him. I think out of all of us here, I have the most experience with matters like these."

"The curtain call is soon, so please hurry!" Wes said as Kurt left the room.

Blaine eyed Nick coldly. "That wasn't the smartest thing to do."

"It's not like we were dating." Nick shot back, still riled up from his fight with Jeff.

"No, but you're his friend." Blaine responded. "It's your responsibility to understand how he's feeling and react accordingly. You miserably failed at that."

"What, like you and Kurt?" Nick snapped back.

Blaine furrowed his brow. "What does Kurt have to do with this?"

"Oh please, Blaine," Nick replied nastily, "don't tell me you haven't seen him _mooning_ over you as if you were an international superstar."

"Look Nick," Blaine said tersely, "We're talking about you and Jeff right now. You need to apologize. You really hurt his feelings."

Nick deflated. "You're right," he said. "I'm sorry. But what could I possibly do? I'm not gay. I can't love Jeff the way he loves me."

"And he understands that," Blaine told him gently. "Just… try not to be so blatant about your other relationships until his wound scabs over. Eventually he'll move on, fall in love with another guy, and then you can openly sleep with as many girls as you'd like."

Nick sighed, rubbing his face wearily. "Okay, I can do that."

XXX

"Places everyone!" David said frantically. "Good, we're set? Ties are straight? Nick and Jeff are okay now? Alright, let's do this."

"And now for our second performance of the program," The announcer said, "from Dalton Academy in Westerville, the Warblers!"

Wes cued everyone off and they began in unison, singing the opening melody for _Hey, Soul Sister_. Blaine looked down, blending into the crowd of uniforms until the opening line came up. He stepped out into the spotlight, staring out into the crowd.

_Your lipstick stains_

_On the front lobe of my left side brains_

_I knew I wouldn't forget you_

_And so I went and let you blow my mind_

He grinned at Kurt, and led the Warblers into a upbeat swaying motion. He was slightly perturbed by the expression on Puck's face when he looked out into the audience. It was almost like he was… angry. Blaine forgot about it as the song began to pick up.

_Your sweet moon beam_

_The smell of you in every single dream I dream_

_I knew when we collided_

_You're the one I have decided_

_Who's one of my kind_

_Hey soul sister_

_Ain't that mister mister_

_On the radio, stereo_

_The way you move ain't fair you know_

_Hey soul sister_

_I don't wanna miss a single thing you do_

_Tonight_

Blaine forgot all his inhibitions as he got wrapped up in the song. He began moving around and dancing crazily, only fueled by the audience's quiet cheers and laughter.

_The way you can cut a rug_

_Watching you is the only drug I need_

_So ganster, I'm so thug_

_You're the only one I'm dreaming of _

_You see, I can be myself here finally_

_In fact there's nothing I can't be_

_I want the world to see you'll be with me_

_Hey soul sister_

_Ain't that mister mister_

_On the radio, stereo_

_The way you move ain't fair, you know_

_Hey soul sister_

_I don't' wanna miss a single thing you do_

_Tonight_

He matched his dancing to the rest of the Warblers again as they finished off the melody. He saw Kurt tersely smiling on the other side of him, but didn't think too much of it. He grinned when the New Directions led a standing ovation for them and the rest of the audience followed.

"That was great!" Blaine said, hugging Kurt when the curtain went down. He was pulled into hugs with other Warblers as they celebrated the end of their hard work at Sectionals.

"Come on, the New Directions are performing next." Thad said, ushering them back into the audience. The Warblers filed quietly in as the New Directions performed.

Blaine could honestly say he was impressed. While their vocals couldn't match the Warblers by any stretch of the imagination, the New Directions gave a performance that had them beat tenfold.

"And now, this year's head judge: Associate Director of the Ohio Department of Motor Vehicles, Mr. Pete Saznowski!" The announcer said with flourish, handing the microphone over.

The audience clapped politely. Mr. Saznowski cleared his throat. "Thank you. And thank you for all the groups who performed here today. We all had a serious... good time." He said. "And you know what else is a serious good time: taking two minutes to save a life by filling out an organ donor card because it's never too late to donate."

He finished and everyone gave him a sympathetic round of applause. Mr. Saznowski then seemed to realize that people just wanted to hear the results of the Glee competition. He cleared his throat again. "Drumroll please," He requested, taking out the slip of paper from the envelope. Blaine clenched his hands nervously, praying that they would be able to move on to Regionals. "In third place," Mr. Saznowski said, pausing slightly, "the Hipsters!"

Blaine let out a sigh of relief as an old woman sashayed up to get the tiny trophy. Now, it was the moment of truth.

"And now, the winner of this year's West Central sectionals is…" He said, opening the other envelope. "It's a tie." He said anticlimactically. "Congratulations, you're all going to the Regionals."

The crowd cheered as everyone stood up on the stage in shock. That was it? A _tie_? Blaine stepped forwards to shake the hand of Mr. Schuester as he was handed the trophy first. "Congratulations," He said cordially.

"Nice work," Mr. Schuester said, shaking his hand firmly. "See you at Regionals."

Blaine entered the circle of Warblers who were politely clapping. None of them looked overly enthusiastic with sharing the first place with another team, but at least they were moving on.

"Alright, back on the bus!" Wes shouted over the din of the crowd. "We have a long ride ahead of us!"

Blaine followed the rest of the Warblers back onto the bus before noticing that Kurt had slipped behind to congratulate his old team. Blaine held back the bus until Kurt was on and seated next to him.

"This is good," Blaine said optimistically. "This way, neither the New Directions nor the Warblers lost and you don't have to choose a side."

"I know," Kurt said, smiling brightly. "And now I don't have to worry about that until April."

Blaine grinned back. "This should be fun."

XXX

A/N: For all of you who reviewed the previous chapter: thank you so much! I'm sorry I didn't get back to you—I was planning on responding/updating last week, but then this whole job thing came up and I didn't have the energy.

And just a heads up, I'm going on vacation until the end of June. I know, I know… another hiatus. I'm horrible. If I were my own reader waiting for my updates, I would hate myself.


End file.

Glee, Harry Potter, Romance