Glee, Harry Potter 1. Chapter 1

Chapter One: Dating Dilemmas

The snow falls across the frigid grounds, painting a white canvas of peace and stability as the tears fall in a never ending stream down her cheeks, a pitiful whimper escaping her. I held her tightly to me, willing away tears of my own.

A small part of me knows that Hermione Granger will always find a way to come to me to rant about things that she cannot control. She will always need me in that sense-someone to listen-and this time I can't complain, even if I felt the will to as I looked at her tear streaked face framed by bushy brown hair, her too wet dark eyes and trembling chin and lower lip... I feel so awful, so very selfish about how I fret over the things in my life when hers is so much more stressful than my own. She has the same troubles we all have, and more. She's a girl who wants to be noticed by the guy who it seems has never even looked her way. She's a girl who wants to be smart, beautiful, and well liked. However, she also has the life of her best friend in her hands, because he was illegally entered into a tournament he was too young to be in. I feel sorry for her on so many levels, and have the free time to listen to her-so I do. I listen. I have an open mind and a space in my heart for her one too many troubles, even if the few friends I have don't understand why I wait at the same tree every day during lunch time or why I do homework with her instead of them some evenings. They didn't understand it, but they didn't need to.

They didn't need to know anything about it, as long as they didn't interfere with it. They knew better than to interfere with the time I spent with her. I rubbed her arm soothingly, despite not needing to warm her up with an embrace. The warming charm and the small flame in a jar at our feet is more than sufficient to keep us warm. The girl is emotionally frozen, terrified with the possibilities of what could happen to him in this tournament. He's so young, so vulnerable-and even I feel a thrill of fear at the knowledge that he has to compete with the rest of them like he's seventeen-as if he is legally a grown man that's marching into the arena with his head held high. He was so brave and so stubborn… but he was being stubborn about the wrong things. He needed to find out what that clue meant, and what he was going to do about it before the new year came. He needed help, and he wouldn't accept it. He wanted to simply live to see the end of the tournament, and there was nothing else to it. He wanted to live, and then get on with his life. Like Hermione, he wanted so desperately to be normal, so desperately to be a dull face in the crowd, even if he never could be.

I didn't blame him for wanting that-but he was hurting the only person who would care enough to do hours of research as soon as she heard the clue, in order for him to survive, to last until the final round. I hated to see Hermione hurting so badly from him-and it wasn't just him, it was Ron too, who was stubborn enough to think that Hermione wanted someone else above him at the moment; who was currently giving her the cold shoulder in hopes of her not seeing how hurt he really was. To say he was dimwitted would be polite for the fourteen year old. To say he was catatonic in his perception of feelings would be more accurate. I sighed quietly, rubbing her arm one more circuit, and placed a gentle kiss on her head. "Hermione, don't you think you should be getting back to them?" I asked, feeling horrible for recommending it. She nodded slowly, sitting straighter as she swiped her eyes. "Yes, they'll be needing help on the work they won't do tonight…and I'll end up checking the night before we go back to classes," she said wryly, picking up her bag. As she stood and went to walk away, I grabbed her wrist on an impulse, feeling the need to reassure her one more time.

"You know that if you ever need me, I'll always be here. I'll always be waiting, ready to listen when it gets too much. Remember that, sugar, "I told her softly. "I know," she said in a whisper, her expression torn between gratefulness and the pain she felt for her troubles in life. She walked off after that, wiping her eyes again. I picked up the jar with the flame in it, sighing to myself, now effectively miserable for the rest of the day. I would be able to picture her tear filled eyes and tortured expression for the rest of the week. I leaned my head against the tree, closing my eyes and letting my fingers feel the warmth pulsating from the tiny blue flame inside of the jar. Hermione wasn't supposed to be hurting like this, and it frustrated me to no end that those little boys would do that to her. They did it to her repeatedly, knowing it only made her more catty, more closed off. They knew it made her feel more caged, made her feel a sense of helplessness when they felt the need to hide the truth and would keep things from her. They would berate her for doing so much research when they thought that it wasn't necessary and it made her feel useless and unappreciated for what she did.

To be frank, it kind of pissed me off that they would brush her off so easily when she was the one thing that would keep their skinny asses alive in academics-and literally alive in Harry's case. They should be more grateful, should be more appreciative of the brunette who was using all of her time and her energy for them to be able to relax and not fret over anything at all comparatively. Feeling restless, I stood, and my legs began moving of their own accord in a general direction. It was Christmas break, and we had no classes. I had nowhere to be at the moment… Well, I did tonight when the package arrived for me at supper. I had sent a letter home two weeks ago, asking for a dress to be picked and sent to me for the upcoming Yule Ball. No matter how horrible it would be, I would be able to alter the dress, and it would be made into something that was visually or physically more pleasing than the one my mother would send me. I knew she would pick something that she would think was beautiful and becoming for a girl who was about to be in her seventh year at the school she had attended, but that didn't mean that I would have to agree with her on that subject.

I had given her a list of criteria to generally follow-which shops to go to, which colors to pick, and what designs were a big no for me. That didn't mean that she wasn't stubborn. That didn't mean that she would simply claim she hadn't seen the paper and go and pick out her own style that she thought would fit me.

Sighing, I slowed my hurried pace as I neared the icy surface of the Black Lake, where the squid had broken free of the ice that was thick upon it, almost impenetrable.

I sat down, leaning against a tree by the water's edge, the jar still clutched firmly in my grasp and my body filled with goose bumps and shivers now, rather than the warmth I had felt with Hermione by my side.

I looked over the ice, wondering what the next challenge would bring for Harry Potter, and if the conflict I felt inside could even barely stand against the conflict he felt daily, without the people who wanted him dead after him. Harry was, whether he knew it or not, a person who could change the entire dynamic of the school with what he did. I wished he would stop being such a blatant enemy of those in Slytherin. It would make my life easier. A lot easier. Now that Hermione was gone, I was free to worry about what was bothering me. I lived, by the standards my friends set, a secret and double life. I loved being in the house of Gryffindor , preferred no other house to be in… but there was someone in the house that I was supposed to hate that I really liked. I sighed internally, closing my eyes as I heard laughter in the distance, the laughter of those who weren't pressured to keep what felt like the biggest part of them secret from their friends; the people who were supposed to be their support system through the thick and the thin. Well, my friends were amazing, but they would not have supported anything to do with him-they would have bitched and made me feel so horrible that I broke it off just to please them.

I knew what would happen, knew what would be expected of me…but that didn't mean I had to like it. Dimly, I heard steps behind me. Guessing it to be one of my friends, I remained silent, knowing they would sit by me and eventually ask me what was on my mind, the friend most likely thinking it was Hermione that made me frown and made tears come to my eyes. I would give them what they wanted to hear and then they would try to cheer me up, try to make things go back to normal. I would pretend to smile after a little while, and they would relent, claiming we need to go inside where the fires were that could actually warm us… and then things would go back to normal. I would be holed up in Gryffindor tower with my friends, the boy only in the recesses of my mind, where he would only come out when I was alone and studying (or doing anything important. He was good at interrupting critical thinking skills) or when I was dreaming. He was always the same, always so beautiful and untouchable. I opened my eyes slowly, my vision focusing on the black ice that was quickly being topped with layer after layer of snow. I wished, for a moment, my life could be as simple and as pure as the snow that was in my hair, in the sky, everywhere.

My cheeks and nose were red from the cold, lips chapped and eyes a watery red. I knew there was no way I could look calm and collected; there was no way I could look decent and normal. I wouldn't use pretty to describe me-but I knew I didn't look attractive the way I currently was. I knew what I looked like, and it was far from normal or pretty. One couldn't look normal when you were half elf and half human. I was short, a traitorous thing that my mother had passed onto me, and had the hair of my grandmother when she was young. My hair was long-hip length-and curled in odd ringlets that never seemed to want to obey my wishes. It was dark and thick-it had made my grandmother look radiant, stunning with her pale skin and beautiful features. It made me look pale and sick. With emerald colored eyes like my father, I looked like I could probably be Harry Potter's cousin-not that I wanted to be. My facial features were simultaneously sharp and soft-an odd mixture off being human and elf, I was certain. My figure, however, was all human-soft and thankfully proportionate, at least that was normal about me. That was one of the very few things though.

I was naturally shy, where the people I was around were more outgoing. They claimed I was beautiful and should show it off… Well, I had a hard time believing all of that, no matter how many times they expressed that to me. I dressed plainly, having no desire to wear makeup that would run when I cried, or get sticky and gross when I got the least bit sweaty. I wore a simple pair of jeans and a sweater in the winter months when not in classes, and maybe a jacket over it, since I had learned to do warming charms in fifth year. I had developed the ability to do them fairly quickly, having a desire to not wear three layers of socks every morning of my life in December. One of the things I was proud of had to be my abilities in two of my classes: Charms and Potions, ironically enough. My friends often teased me about it, asking me when I would start dating the snakes and ask for a transfer to their house. Then and again, if they knew I actually liked someone from Slytherin, they would probably refer me to the St. Mungo's Mental Ward. I bit my chapped lower lip, worrying it for a moment as my thoughts drifted to their shocked reactions to the truth that was so blatantly there that they refused to see-when the person beside me spoke.

I jumped a little, startled as the voice registered along with the words-but less than a split second later, heat seared my face for a different reason. The person beside me had spoken so quietly, that it could have almost been a whisper of a thought. But it was still there, his words echoing in my brain: "You're doing a good thing, helping Granger like that." I drew my knees to my chest, setting the flame beside me so he could feel the warmth too (It really was very warm) and cast a silent warming spell over us. I didn't have to look up to know he was grateful. It was very cold out here near the lake, colder than it was near the castle. I had no response for his words, and tried to formulate something that resembled a good sentence to tell him. Finally, words that were as quiet as his escaped as I said, "Sometimes in the process of comforting others I find peace-and she is so worried over Harry, so worried that he might die in the next task. He still hasn't figured out the clue and it's tearing her to pieces that he's treating it lightly. He's so indifferent to it-it makes me want to shake him. I just want to make him realize he's such an _idiot_." The light laughter that escapes him, breathy and awkward, surprises me.

I turn to look at him, wondering if he actually found it funny, and freeze as I feel my heart palpitate, skipping three good beats or more. Long and leonine, he looks like an overgrown perfected porcelain doll. Cheeks and nose flushed a delicate pink and the tips of his ears turning red, his skin is smooth. He is pale and flawless as I look at him, his silhouette against the tree next to me in a relaxed position. His dark hair is perfect, and his Slytherin scarf is around his neck, wrapped the precise four times for maximum effect (as he told his peers in Slytherin who mocked him for his love for fashion). His cloak is buttoned at his neck and his dark jeans and boots are clearly of designer origin… But more than his impeccable appearance that always seemed to take away my oxygen; I wondered why he was here with me at the lakeside. I bit my lower lip again, and he turned to look at me, his best feature making little butterflies appear in my stomach-his eyes had to be the strangest, yet most beautiful combination of colors I had ever seen. I had heard him say the type once, to his friends, but I couldn't remember what he called them at the moment. It was a mixture of blue, grey, and green.

A smile quirked his lips and I blinked, forgetting what I was going to ask. Yet, the question still spilled out, intentional and unhesitant. "Why are you here beside the lake with me? I thought Slytherins hated Gryffindors," I said, almost flinching at how harsh it sounded His eyes narrowed, and he exhaled slowly through his nose, his smile becoming bitter. He stood lithely, saying, "I can see that, despite the kindness you showed to Granger, it cannot be extended to someone like me. I am sorry that I was mistaken." He straightened his cloak, and went to walk off-and I called out to him as he had gotten no more than five feet away. "You assume a lot of things, porcelain. How do you know I wasn't willing to have you as company?" I paused, and then spoke again. "Or are your defenses so high that it makes you incapable of making new friends?" I questioned, feeling terror sweep through me, icy and feral. My tone was haughty, my words assuming-and I felt like a scared little girl who was being threatened. I was absolutely horrified of what I had said, but I wouldn't take it back if it would make him come back to me. I waited for a moment-and then he reappeared in my line of vision, sitting beside me again, a slight smile on his pink lips.

He spoke after a moment of silence between us, saying, "You've got more guts than I thought you did, elf." I rolled my eyes, torn between being insulted, and feeling the elation that he was using a term of endearment for me. I looked at him, an eyebrow raised as a smile unwillingly played on my own. This seemed to make his eyes sparkle with an unidentified emotion-perhaps happiness, but that did not make sense. "I'm a Lion-I have courage, not guts," I said lightly, earning a snort from him. "And you call my house arrogant," he muttered playfully. I raised my eyebrows at him, and he grinned. "So… you had a purpose for coming here?" I asked, and his face became masked-a cautious guard once again. I waited, and he looked away, at his stretched out legs, unwilling to look me in the eye. I sensed that he was trying to gather the nerve to say something, and I waited patiently, knowing it would be impolite to interrupt him. As I was growing worried he'd become permanently mute, his voice floated to my ears, calm and hesitant with a slight waver (that reminded me of how nervous I felt on the inside, even if I never showed it) as he said:

**"Will you be my date to the Yule Ball?"**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: Friendship Dilemmas

"So… you had a purpose for coming here?" I asked, and his face became masked-a cautious guard once again. I waited, and he looked away, at his stretched out legs, unwilling to look me in the eye. I sensed that he was trying to gather the nerve to say something, and I waited patiently, knowing it would be impolite to interrupt him. As I was growing worried he'd become permanently mute, his voice floated to my ears, calm and hesitant with a slight waver (that reminded me of how nervous I felt on the inside, even if I never showed it) as he said:

**"Will you be my date to the Yule Ball?"**

I froze instantly.

I had misheard….

I had gone deaf….

There had to be some sort of logical explanation, my mind screamed.

I had most certainly misheard the young Slytherin boy beside me, because he had not asked for me to attend the event of the century with him. He had not voiced the words I had only dreamed of in my wildest dreams when I was too tired or too stressed to repress the thoughts of him and his pleas for my affection. At the question, my hackles rose, and I stood fluidly to my feet rather than melting into the ground like my heart had melted in my throat, puddling in my stomach like sick yet savory lava. My face tensed in apprehension and the tears came quickly, barely refrained from spilling over. He looked up at me and his face showing how frightened he was of my response, frightened of my answer-but I wanted to make him smile, wanted to say yes even though half of me screamed that this was a trick to humiliate me, to make me regret ever even thinking that we could one day be friends or more without the ridiculous pressure of friends. A noise dragged me from my thoughts, and it now appeared that he was trying to speak. His perfect pink lips parted as he looked up at me, uncertain of how to continue what he had started mere seconds ago with his seemingly simple question.

My heart begged me to accept, because I couldn't count the times I had dreamed of doing something outrageous like this. How many times had I dreamed, wished in my heart that I could be the one going to an event with him where people, all of the people who attended my school, even my so called friends that would "accept me and love me no matter what", could see the joy and elation on my face that clearly said I wanted to be there; I wanted to be there with him because I wanted him and there wasn't a damn thing they could do about it. I wanted every bit to play the girl who was mindless and accepted it without a second thought or a concern in her head… but there was a nagging thought that presented itself. There was a tiny thought in my brain that made me recoil. The thought that this could all be a hoax, that this could all be a joke to make me humiliated in front of everyone in the entire castle. Although it had never happened to me, I knew Kurt Hummel could be a sneaky and manipulative little bastard when he wanted to be (I knew from all of the pranks he played and the rumors he had spread), no matter how pretty his eyes were or how well his hair was done. Mischief and Cunning, thy name is Kurt Hummel.

Therefore, defiant of what my heart wanted, I squared my jaw and stood my ground as I asked and threatened with the question that was running a circuit in my mind, "Is this a joke, or some type of trick?" He looked at me for a long moment, a shining sense of disappointment in his eyes as he realized I wouldn't take the question seriously until he explained himself. He rose to his feet, his head hung like he was ashamed of asking me. His murmured answer was not what I had expected to hear from him. "I'm sorry, but I just… I see you look at me when your friends aren't looking. I see you smile whenever I make jokes, and I see how your eyes light up whenever I criticize the way other people dress... I just thought that, since you were so responsive to the things I did, that maybe you liked me and would go with me to the Ball." Oh dear. I had no hope as he looked up at me, his too beautiful eyes teary and his nose red. I hadn't meant to make him emotional-and really, he wasn't emotional unless something meant a lot to him, like Fashion (and I wondered-could I rank among the highest of callings that was fashion? I doubted it, but I could hope) or getting a potion perfect for that old rag Snape. So this had to mean something to him.

I bit my lower lip, worrying it for a second, before deciding on a course of action. I was a Gryffindor right? Well, that meant I should be brave and take action like everyone else did on a daily basis. "I'll agree to go to the ball with you on one small condition," I said carefully, stepping closer to him, my concentration on his features probably alarming him. He nodded, looking every bit the part of sincere and eager. Well, we would see about that, I thought as I took a deep breath and spoke. "Escort me to my common room, and if my friends ask you about why you brought me there, you tell them every bit of the truth. You tell them that you came out here, in all of your designer Glory, and asked me to the Yule Ball. Therefore, since you considered us going together, you decided to escort me to my common room to make sure I made it there okay. Can you handle that or is a Slytherin's ego too big for you to agree to it?" I had a hand on my hip as I spoke, and a smile slowly spread across his porcelain face, lighting it up like a Christmas tree. "That's all? And you'll go to the Yule Ball with me? Seriously?" I nodded at his elated words, but posed another question mid elation: "Kurt, if there is any bet behind this, please tell me, won't you?"

He hesitated, and my heart fell to my feet. "Well, there was a bet between Finn and Puck-that's who was laughing earlier, the buffoons-if I would get up the courage to ask you or not, but there was no bet to prompt the asking, no," he said softly. He looked at me for a quiet, almost contemplative moment before saying, "You're worth more than money, Nevaeh. Much more than any gold that can ever be given. I would never bet on you. I would never be able to live with myself if I had. I may be a Slytherin, but I won't lower myself to the level that the others maintain morally." A smile twitched at the corners of my mouth, not having expected him to be this frank with me form the start. It was odd to think that he would be so open, and it puzzled me why he would trust me so completely that he would lay himself open like a book to the girl from the house that his friends, that the people in his house loathed. Silence stretched between us, and I sighed when the sound of the wind around us and the sight of the falling snowflakes had had their moment. "Thank you for that, Kurt. That meant a lot to me to hear that from you," I admitted quietly in the midst of the slowly falling snow flakes.

I continued in the same tone as he looked up at me with hope in his sparkling eyes, saying, "Are Puck and Finn still here? Will we have to bypass them on the way to the common room?" He shrugged, tentatively reaching his hand out, offering it to me to take. "Shall we go?" He asked, a ghost of a smile playing on his features. I swallowed, my heart palpitating as I let my eyes glance at his long fingered hand. I bit my lower lip as I bent down, grabbing the jar and standing straight. With my free hand, I laced my fingers through his and exhaled slowly, looking up to meet his gaze nervously. "Let's go." I agreed, and loved the way he smiled genuinely as I said it. He squeezed my hand as we set off in the snow, up the hill that led down to the lake; our breath made small white clouds in the air as we walked slowly up slope. Hearing distant laughter, Kurt muttered something under his breath that I didn't catch and decided to ignore it-it could have just been him demeaning the people he was closest to, or him talking to himself about how he should have worn the silver scarf, not the green one that went against his too fair skinned complexion. It was a myriad of things he could be talking about, but it really wasn't a concern for me at the moment.

My mind was too busy going on the loop that my hand was threaded through his, feeling the warmth of it, to worry about inconsequential things like whether he was muttering to himself about his brothers or his rapidly depleting fashion sense. I was sky high in my elation over the fact that he had asked me to the ball and he was willing to prove that he meant it. I was so absorbed by the thoughts going around in my cranium that I didn't see two tall figures heading our way as we broke through the small cover of trees that were around the curve of the lake. Kurt's muttered, "Here come's trouble" did catch my attention and my cheeks weren't pink just because of the cold when I laid eyes on the Gryffindor Quidditch captain and his best beater. (I wondered, mildly, of fate liked to kick me in the gut early because I had been stupid enough to accept his invitation to the ball.) Still, I was a Gryffindor and that meant I had courage. Instead of using it in sarcastic remarks in my head, I needed to showcase it like every other Gryffindor proudly did… Granted, most of them didn't like Slytherins, but there were exceptions to every rule of society. I just happened to be one of those, being a half-human/half-elf in Gryffindor who fancied a Slytherin.

I smiled benignly at them as they yelled Kurt's name and jogged over to us, shit eating grins on their visages. "Kurtsie, what are you doing out here in the cold? You know it'll ruin all the effort put into your morning routine of moisturizing," Noah Puckerman teased, and my hackles rose, lowering when Kurt made a smart comment. "Fuck off, Puckerman. I don't have time to bother with your Neanderthal vocabulary. I have more important things to do," He said in a dismissive tone, his hand ever so tightening on mine. I nearly fainted at the feeling of pleasure that coursed through me at the thought that he considered me more important than bickering with Noah Puckerman, his "sworn enemy" (that wasn't). "Who's your friend?" Finn Hudson asked his chocolate brown eyes just as mischievous as his friend's. I raised an eyebrow defiantly at him, saying, "We've been in the same house for Seven Years, and you don't know me?" I would have put a hand on my hip but I sufficed for an affronted look. "Finn Hudson, you of all people should remember me. We dated for two months last year!" I accused, knowing no such thing had happened. There was no way in this life or the next I would ever date him. No way in a frozen hell…

His brow furrowed in thought and was the living embodiment of confusion. Ah, it was too sweet to watch him rack his brains over something that had never happened. I tried to hold in the laugh as the two minute mark passed of him gaping like a fish, but as soon as a small giggle escaped, I couldn't control it. Kurt was snickering beside me as I laughed, choking out that it had never happened, he could relax. Even he smiled in the end, and he asked me again who I was. I held out my hand, after putting down the jar, and said, "Nevaeh Johnson." He shook my hand and I looked to puck; he had his arms crossed over his chest and a scowl in his face. I sighed internally, looking him in the eye and waiting for him to spit it out; he obviously had something to say. Finally, he said, "Aren't you the girl who's friends with Mercedes?" I put a hand on my hip this time, the picture of attitude. "Yes. Do you have an issue with the people I choose to be friends with, Noah?" His eyes barrowed and Kurt snickered. "Don't call me Noah," He scowled at the mention of his first name.

He continued, before I could respond to that, saying, "And it's not her I have a problem with. SHE will have a problem with you going to the Ball with him though, won't she?" He challenged, and I shrugged. I was on a roll, why stop now? "She's my friend, and she'll deal. And what's more, I was placed in Gryffindor because of my guts not my looks, though they would have been more than sufficient, I would think. I am half supernatural creature after all." I arched an eyebrow at him, smirking as he was left speechless. Kurt was looking at me with an odd look on his face, something close to adoration and amusement mixed together as Finn laughed quietly at his beater's shock. "You're half supernatural creature?" Puckerman questioned and I rolled my eyes. "Yes. I wasn't made this short by drinking a shrinking potion, honey. I'm half elf and proud of it," I said, lying about the last part. I hated being half elf, but they never had to know that. I could pull it off, right? Right, I reassured myself as Kurt spoke, attempting to end the conversation. "As lovely as this is, we really do have more important things to do than stand here and chat the day away. You two should get back to practicing-and bring your seeker next time. He's getting faulty."

I snorted in amusement, bending down to get the jar, and looped my arm through his. "Nice chatting with you boys," I chirped as we walked off. Once away, I let a small giggle escape, face flushed and smile a little too wide. "You were amazing back there. How did you get so bold? Two minutes ago, you would barely look me in the eye," He joked, and I shrugged, unable to keep the smile back. "Well, I figured that I was a Gryffindor, and I should damn well start acting like it, you know? What better time to start than now?" I asked, and he laughed, a sound like angelic music to my ears, as he said, "No time like the present darling." My heart palpitated at the nickname as we walked up the stone steps and into the cold walls of the castle. Not many student students would be in the corridors, but I was on an elated high and it wouldn't have made a damn to me if people did see me with Kurt. He was mine, after all. All mine, and no one else could have him. The thought made me plum giddy, to be honest. I was almost completely distracted when he leaned over. "I think we passed the first test," he whispered in my ear and I shivered. His gaze became concerned as he slowed down, his gaze genuine as his eyes swept over me. *shiver*

"Are you cold?" He asked, and I shook my head, another shiver going through me lightly, I didn't have a warming charm on me so-and then he was taking off his emerald scarf carefully, and wrapping it loosely around my neck. "Here. I never noticed because I thought that the jar would have kept you warm, I'm so sorry, Nevaeh," he apologized, looking down at me as he finished, the scarf still too long on my small and petite frame. He raised his eyebrows speculatively, eyes appreciative as they roamed over me with his still perfect lips quirked in amusement at how it looked on me. "You're so small," He said, and I could feel my cheeks grow warm. That had been exactly what I wanted to hear, Kurt, Thank you, I mentally applauded. He reached up a gloved hand, his thumb brushing my cheek as he murmured, "And still you're more beautiful than any Veela I've ever seen." I felt like melting onto the stone floor as I looked away, and he refused to let me do it, using his finger to tilt my chin up so I had to look at him. I bit my lower lip, and his eyes searched my face, curious as he asked, "Why do you bite your lip so much?" I swallowed, unsure of what to tell him. "Um, I do it when I'm nervous," was the soft answer I heard, unsure if it came from me.

The smile on his mouth wasn't soft this time, I noticed as I mentally shrank the jar and stuck it in my pocket. This smile… It was like the one Finn had been wearing when he had asked who I was. It made my breath catch in my throat, and my eyes darted to his mouth and then refocused on his eyes. He leaned forward, and I heard my breath catch this time, making his smile grow wider. "Are you nervous now, elf?" He asked, and I shook my head, earning a chuckle. His nose touched mine as he breathed the word, "Good", and the smell of mint wafted over me, before he crashed his lips on mine. I made a sound in the back of my throat, but he ignored it, opting to, you know, kiss me. I leaned forward as it clicked in my brain that he was kissing me, and eased the height issue between us a little bit. I wanted so badly to run my fingers through his perfectly done hair-but a shout broke us apart, startling us with its volume. I looked up, as confused as Kurt was, until I saw her; with brown hair, tan skin, and known for being bitchy, Santana Lopez was the one girl I could count on making my day pissy. I let my eyes narrow at her as I settled onto the soles of my feet again. Oh, she would die if there wasn't someone deathly ill, asking for one of us.

It turns out that she just had issues with me, because she marched up to us, and yanked me away from him. I gasped at the force, and reacted without thinking. I shoved her away from me, and she stumbled, the look on her face shocked, before her glare turned lethal. Kurt, ever the one to maintain the peace, stepped in front of me. She let out a snarl, looking ready to rip me limb from limb. "Who the hell does she think she is? She's a cat, not a snake, Hummel! Are you blind?" I snorted, muttering mutinously, "Yeah, he looked at me for five minutes and then kissed me because he was blind." Kurt ignored my comment, even though Santana narrowed her eyes at me, and he spoke smoothly, "I know you like to be protective, but she's off limits. She's my date for the ball, and I kissed her-after I gave her my scarf for her to keep. She's my girl and she cannot be beaten up. If I see one scratch on her, your ass is Quidditch grass for the next five years of your life. Am I clear?" He sounded so stern; I wondered why he wasn't the Quidditch captain of Slytherin. She sent another malicious glare my way before giving him a nod. She huffed, muttering, "Well, she did shove me, so she does have some snake in her."

I gave her a tight smile for that comment, taking whatever she would give me for praise, and she turned away, her back straight as she marched off. She called out, "I'm spreading a rumor Hummel, so be prepared to have diseases!" "I'm so looking forward to it." He muttered, quickly grabbing my hand again as she disappeared. The look on his face was odd, almost concerned. I really was having a hard time grasping the idea of him caring for me and being concerned. Not that we had even been together for that long-but apparently we were together. I raised an amused eyebrow at him saying, "So, I'm your girl and I'm off limits, huh? Possessive, are we?" I was teasing him and he knew it. I couldn't resist it, because the blush that appeared on his high cheekbones was worth it. "Maybe," he countered "because maybe I'm afraid that if I don't stake my claim that all of the other guys will try to get you from me once they figure out you're going with me." I ducked my head as he wrapped an arm around me, smiling down at me and leading me to the end of the corridor. Luckily, it was empty and I almost breathed a sigh of relief. It was quiet for a minute, and then his smooth tones asked a query that made me laugh. "Is it bad that I want to drag you into a deserted corridor and keep you all to myself for a few hours?" He said lightly, his arm moving to my waist protectively.

My laugh was different than any other laugh I had used-it was light and airy, whimsical and carefree. And as I looked away from his sheepish features, I saw the reason why he had asked the question to begin with: Cedric Diggory was walking down the hall, a charming smile and an at ease look on his face. (It was well known that Cedric and I were friends, and some even had the balls to start a friend with benefits rumor. I had all but combusted when I had found out Santana had started it. It was the only time I had ever confronted her, other than a few minutes ago when she had physically assaulted me.) I sighed, rolling my eyes at his silly urge to "lay claim" to me before the others got me. Really, though I had boasted confidence there was no way I was pretty enough for guys to want to steal me away from him. Besides, Kurt Hummel was my dream personified, even if no one knew it. I had wanted to date him for forever, and now was my chance. I was not giving that up, no matter who came calling for me to go to the ball with them. I was taken, and by a very good looking young man too. Cedric, ever the curious one, smiled at us as he approached, but didn't say anything as I winked at him to tell him it was okay, that I was fine.

He nodded, inclining his head to Kurt and keeping the same smile. Kurt gave him a tight lipped smile, which looked more like a grimace. As he disappeared and we headed up a staircase, I rolled my eyes at him again, feeling like we had been together for ages, though it had been only a minute or two at most. "Well, that was eventful," I drawled, and saw a deeper blush grace his cheeks. "Would have been less eventful if someone hadn't showed their feathers like a ruffled bird," I smirked and he glared at me. "Don't make me hurt you," he threatened and I snorted. "How? Are you going to drag me into a corridor and make me pay repentance by snogging? I feel so threatened," I dead panned. His smirk grew, looking more devilish by the second as we came to a landing and saw a long and darkened corridor, light barely shining through the snow clogged windows. He grabbed my arm, pulling me with him into the chilly area. I followed him, my heart pounding like it was pumped full of adrenaline within the past second. He dragged me past the snow covered windows, where I could see the snow falling faster than before when we had been out there a few minutes ago.

I had barely glimpsed the snow, when I was pulled past it, and the breath was knocked out of me.

I was up against a wall, his leonine frame leering over me in the dark corridor. I could barely see in front of me, but I could feel him hovering over me, his mouth next to my ear. "Still feeling arrogant?" He murmured, placing a kiss behind my ear. I swallowed almost audibly, unable to breathe. "Maybe?" I squeaked in reply, earning a throaty chuckle in a pitch so low I didn't think Kurt could have hit that note. "Let me see if I can change that," He murmured, his mouth moving to my throat and his hands settling on my waist, lightly resting there. His mouth made patterns across the expanse of my white throat, and I was frozen, noises dying in my throat continually as he made his way across it. I didn't know what to do, I had never been in this type of situation before, and-I melted as his teeth nipped at the skin of my throat. He brought his mouth to upwards, crashing his lips roughly on mine. This time my hands went to his hair, finally messing up that perfect style that always seemed to never get one strand out of place. I stood on my toes, not one bit shy now as he gripped my waist with a tighter grip. After a moment of him pressing frantic and chaste kisses on my mouth, he slowed his pace becoming leisurely and his grip loosening.

He pulled away for a second, leaning his forehead against mine, breathing out the words, "Why do you insist on keeping your hands in my hair, woman?" I grinned, his lips so close I knew he could feel it as I said, "Everyday, it's always so perfect. I had to-I had to mess it up, just to see if it was, um, possible." The snort from him made a small giggle escape. If I could only see his eyes… But this would have to suffice I supposed, as I stood up on my tiptoes and pressed my lips against his. I had never been in one of these situations before, but it didn't mean I was an idiot. I was smart enough to deduce what to do, and I did it. However, the height thing was definitely an issue. I pulled away after a moment, frustrated. "Dammit, why do you have to be so tall?" I muttered, and he laughed quietly. "I can fix that problem too," He reassured me, and his grip tightened on my waist, him lifting me gently off of the floor. I wrapped my legs, as unathletic as I was, around him immediately, fearing that he would drop me. His hands drifted to my upper thighs, holding me there so I wouldn't fall as he rested his head in the crook of my neck. "Better?" He asked quietly and I gave a noise of confirmation, now occupied.

I had tilted my head, planting soft kisses on his throat that was exposed, wishing he would unbutton that damn cloak. The noise he made as he moved his head, tilting it, was so worth it though. I grinned to myself and he muttered that I shouldn't be arrogant; he had made me make noises first. His words died out, fading as I nipped below the curve of his jaw, quietly but firmly muttering, "Mine", like a possessive cave elf. He was quiet after that, and I paused in what I was doing to look up at where I thought his face was. "What's wrong?" I asked, my tone concerned as my hands went through his dark hair again. He hummed in satisfaction, and I chuckled warmly, affectionately at how endearing it was. "You said 'mine'," he whispered as my small and delicate looking hands remained in his too soft and too perfect hair. I blinked, not comprehending why this would be a concern, before it dawned on me. "I'm sorry, I just… I just liked you for so long, wanted you to ask me to go out to Hogsmead, anything... I didn't mean to scare you," I said, apologetic in tone. His tense posture relaxed from beneath me, and he sighed quietly in my ear. "Well, that changes things, doesn't' it?" He queried, making me draw a blank at what he could mean.

I bit my lower lip, worrying it a second before he leaned in slowly and his lips met mine, gentle this time as he kissed me. I really could get used to this, I mused, as the silence in the hallway, besides our breathing, stretched around us. Laughter broke through my reverie-and I automatically recognized it. It could only be the laugh of my best friend, Mercedes, because it was loud, proud and had a familiar ring to it. "Shit," he cursed quietly, and I snorted internally. "Well, no time like the present," I muttered, and he sighed, the tone of it conveying how he disapproved of my word choice. "I suppose so," he said wryly, and gently lowered me down. I ran my finger s through my hair, knowing it had to look horrible from the wind and snow outside and from the recent "excursion" I had had seconds ago. Mercedes was nearing, her voice still so loud and proud like the Gryffindor she was. He slipped an arm around my waist, hugging me to his side, and I duplicated the action, weaving my arm around his leonine waist. We walked to the edge of the corridor, where light was more abundant, and He ran a hand through his hair. It looked, for all intents and purposes, windswept and his cheeks were flushed, his mouth red.

He glanced down at me, and quirked an eyebrow. "Something interesting?" He challenged and I rolled my eyes. "Of course there is. I'm here," I said my tone dismissive. He sighed again, this one sounding like he was suffering through a never ending problem or something that really bothered him. I wasn't bothered, because he had the tendency to be dramatic with stuff sometimes. But only sometimes. "I really should have checked your ego before I asked you to the ball," He complained, dragging me onto the landing where Mercedes was headed to. "You know you love me for it," I said cheekily and he rolled his eyes at me. "Your ego is too large, for someone so small, but you are adorable, I'll give you that," He conceded. I pretended to be affronted. "Adorable? Just adorable? After I-" He leaned over, planting a firm kiss on my lips that effectively made me silent. "Yes… Well, when we're not in a dark corridor and you're not attempting to maul me," he edited. I rolled my eyes, feeling the urge to mutter about how he called the freakin bluff and started it first, so he should deal with the consequences. He took his long fingered hand and ruffled my hair, laughing before wrapping it around my waist again as we ascended the stairs.

The bonding moment lasted all of five seconds, because Mercedes Jones shrieked bloody murder.

"Kurt Hummel, what in the hell do you think you're doing?" She yelled, nearly running towards us. We backed up, until our feet were on the landing and she was there with us. "Why did you just attack her with your slimy ass mouth? I told you when you first started glancing her way that you needed to back the hell off-" I cut her off with an odd noise that was caught between a growl and a hiss. "You told him to _back off_? Mercedes, are you out of your fucking mind? When did she tell you this? Kurt Hummel, you better not lie to me or I swear I'll beat you with the three and a half inch heel I'm getting at dinner," I said, my voice every bit as threatening as I wanted it to be, turning to him. He shrugged, looking nervously at his black and shiny, polished leather shoes. "She told me in our second year, maybe?" He guessed, and my jaw dropped. Second. Year. For five years, Mercedes had held him off. Oh, she was a dead woman. My glare focused on her and she looked offended. She had the gall to look offended of all things. "Mercedes, I've always prided myself in the fact that you're my friend, but that was too far. How could you do that to me? I've liked this boy since I first laid eyes on him and you told him to fuck off?"

I took a step towards her and she stepped back, her expression torn between frightened and angry. I continued, my glare intensifying as I said, "My life is my life. It's not your right to control me. I have a mother and father who do that well enough already. I don't need for you to put your ass in my life in a way that hinders me being happy. I have enough people who already do that, Santana the prime one." Kurt hugged me to him and I remembered his threat to Santana. Feeling protective, I decided to do the same. Or I would have, had he not spoken up. "Think what you will of me, Aretha, but I don't care what your opinion of me is. I went looking for her this afternoon; I found her by the lake, and asked her to the ball. If you have issues with that, then there are some things you and her need to hash out, obviously. You won't change my mind, and you won't stop me from going with her, so get over the idea of forcibly persuading me," He said in his usual haughty voice. She looked from me to him, and was positively speechless for a full five seconds before she sputtered, "You're seriously going with this creep? You agreed to go with him? What did he do to coerce you?" She was firing question after question, and I waited patiently.

When she stopped, there was a chilled tone to my voice. "Mercedes, choose your side. Be okay with it, or choose for me not to be your friend. I can't believe you would hinder my happiness like that, and for you to do that means that I obviously don't mean that much to you. So, make your choice. Friends or enemies?" I said my expression neutral as I looked at her. Tears formed in her brown eyes and she frowned at me. My heart fell as she glanced at Kurt again, looking discontent. Well, I had my answer, didn't I? I scowled at her. "Are you so prejudiced that you would let a silly rival ruin our friendship?" I hissed, infuriated by her hesitance, tears forming in my own eyes. She shrugged, looking down at the floor, and I was beyond infuriated. I was nearly vibrating I was so angry. "You-I can't believe you would do something like this," I muttered, and she glared at me. "Me? Am I the one going for a snake? Am I the one who's betraying our house and everything we stand for? No, I-" At this criticism, this final blow dealt by the person who was supposed to support me, I snapped. A growl that sounded like a real lion came out of me and I went to lunge forward, intending to grab her throat and strangle her.

Anticipating it, Kurt wrapped both of his arms around me, leaving me to kick and struggle against his iron clad grip, hair falling over my face as the tears began to fall. Mercedes look heartbroken as she turned away from me and ran up the staircase in front of her. "Come back and face me! Come back and tell me that again, you two faced bitch!" I shrieked and Kurt hugged me to him tighter, whispering in my ear that I was making a scene, and we would get in trouble if attention was drew to us. I collapsed in his arms and continued to weakly cry, not understanding why she hated Slytherin so bad, or why she felt the need to shun me. She could have pretended, for my benefit. She could have been the best friend ever, and shoved aside her prejudice for me... but it ran too deep. Her hatred was too strong for our friendship to survive. He turned me around, hugging me to his chest and rubbing my back soothingly in an oval circuit. I let the tears dissolve to sniffles a few minutes later, and said in a voice that was muffled, "You realize we haven't even been together thirty minutes?" He laughed, his laugh rough, almost hoarse. This time it didn't sound amused; it sounded dark, a sound I didn't like.

"Maybe we should go ahead and call it quits. You can always save me a dance and go with a meat head to the ball. It would make Mercedes your friend again and it would make our lives easier for the next week," he said softly, his hand stroking my head, the curls wet from the snow, my face wet from the tears. He swallowed, and continued, "I wouldn't be mad if you say you want to break it off between us. I would be disappointed, yes, but I would never be mad at you. I would learn to somehow understand, Nevaeh." I looked up, a new sense of determination blazing in me as I took in his sincerity in what he said. I shook my head, determined to stick to my convictions. Mercedes was wrong, and come hellfire, I would be the one to hold out. I would show her she was wrong about her prejudice or she would lose me as a friend and a confidante. "You know that I have this thing called a stubborn streak? It's very famous to people who are close to me," I said softly, a small grin crossing my lips, "And the people who have been on the wrong side of it have never had pleasant lives. Count yourself lucky that I like you and you're not on the wrong side of it this time."

He rolled his strange colored eyes, and I tilted my head to the side, peering at him strangely. "What color are your eyes?" I asked, and he didn't look the least bit surprised. "They're a lot of colors, but the term is "glasz"," He explained, leaning down to kiss my forehead. "Do you want to go ahead and get meeting my gang over with? Make a day of it?" He asked and I sighed, leaning my head against his chest again, closing my eyes and hoping the world would stop in this moment. "Maybe we should," I said softly, and he squeezed me one more time to him. I inhaled his scent-he smelled like fresh soap and powder, or some type of moisturizer. I didn't want to move, didn't want to make my feet go anywhere... I wanted to simply lay down in the corridor and go to sleep. I threaded my hand through his, and I motioned for him to lead the way tiredly. He walked slowly, ignoring the looks people gave us, tugging me closer to him. I linked my elbow with his and leaned against his arm, resting my head on him as we strolled down the stone corridors in silence. I wondered how his friends would accept me, but I didn't want to worry about it at the moment. I had more important things to worry about than the approval of his friends.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: Confrontation Ascent

My head was still spinning from the refusal, the rejection of my best friend, and I wondered how much more I could take. I sighed in partial contentment as we turned down the final passageway, coming to where the Slytherin common room was. I closed my eyes, making one last final prayer, and opened my eyes to see the entry way into the common room. He gave me a small smile, kissing my hair and leading me into the common room. "Don't worry about their approval-they act like they won't like you until you prove that you want this relationship. They're highly protective," he murmured in my ear as he led me around the common room, towards a corner where a small group was sitting. "Besides, I want you here with me, I have for years; they'll learn to deal with it like they learned to deal with me being fashion oriented," he said softly, and I did feel a little bit better about it. A voice, a familiar drawl that made my skin crawl, reached my ears as we reached the small area. "So she's still around. I thought the little kitten would have hid when the rumors got around," Santana said. My eyebrow raised and I said nothing, not rising to the bait as Kurt took a chair and pulled me into his lap.

I tucked my legs under me, feeling like a small child, because I was about the height of one compared to him. I leaned my head against his narrow shoulder and buried my face in it, loving the soft feel of his ivory sweater, bordered with emerald thread on the collar and emblazoned with the crest of his house (he had shed his cloak and the light jacket he had worn before he took residence in the small but well cushioned black arm chair. I had to admit that this place looked gloomy, with a green glow and a chilly atmosphere, not just temperature wise). He took off his gloves, setting them on the arm of the chair along with his cloak. He wrapped his arms around me, hugging me to him sideways. I bit my lower lip to hide my smile, and relaxed from my tense position. I had nothing to be afraid of, nothing to hide from these people that would incriminate me in their point of view. A snicker was heard from behind me and I ignored it. I didn't care how they viewed it… Until an oily voice called out a sentence so crude that I felt my neck crack as my head whipped up in shock and anger. Kurt tensed beneath me as he registered that it had been directed at me, and I knew this boy was in for some deep shit because he said:

"Hey kitten, wanna come over here and give me a lap dance when you get done with Hummel?" David Karofsky had a sneer on his face that I guessed he thought was a seductive smile, and I cringed into Kurt, hiding again from the people I didn't want to see. "Fuck off, she's not interested Karofsky," a new voice intoned, but I still recognized it as Rachel Berry. There was silence, but I still didn't relax. I knew better when I was in enemy territory. "She's not worth it anyway," a voice soothed, a different female sneered, and I recognized Sugar Motta's high nasal voice with a wave of bile. At this, I slowly raised my head and sat up, my gaze hardened and icy as I settled my green eyes on her. "Say that again," I said softly, and the common room went deathly silent. "Say it again," I commanded, my voice sharp as I look at her, my lips curling in a sneer. Surprisingly, she obeyed, and repeated the sentence haughtily, that I wasn't worthy of her Dave. I stood fluidly, sliding out of Kurt's grip. I walked an even pace, my boots clicking loudly on the stone floor. I stopped midway, and gave her a cold smile. "Come over here and say it again," I said softly. I paused, smirking before I whispered in a voice that was almost a hiss, "I dare you, _sugar_."

Haughty and stupid, she walked over to me with a proud look on her face. "You," she began, "are not worthy of my Dave. You are nothing but scum-you're from Gryffindor, below even the Hufflepuffs, which is just sad… and for you to sit in the lap of an obvious flamer and pretend that you're worth something? Well that is just pitiful, little elf-" I had slowly begun taking off things I was wearing, like gloves and the scarf and my jacket. I even slid out the bottom earrings in my ears as she talked, so confident that I wouldn't lay a hand on her. When she finished, I gave a smile that she mistook for benign, harmless and warm. "Well, you make a fair point, darling… but I have something important to tell you, so listen closely," I said slowly, the smile widening and growing more threatening. I stepped closer to her, to where there was six inches between us, and said in a sickly sweet voice that was more acidic than any citrus fruit made on earth, "Kurt is not gay-he is my boyfriend, and I am worth ten thousand times more than your or your piece of shit player you like to claim when he probably has more diseases than an STD research center. So, let me make something perfectly clear."

I leaned forward, into her face and continued, watching her eyes widen as she understood that I was threatening her, "If you ever insult me or my boyfriend again, you'll get worse than what I am about to give you." With that said I drew my arm back and hit her square on the nose, hearing it crack with satisfaction. She swayed and fell to the floor, the room still deathly silent. I gave her a hard kick with my booted foot for good measure and crouched down beside her, leaning my face over hers as I sneered, "You should learn this lesson. I would hate to have to repeat it." I stood straight, and looked around the common room, saying calmly as I crossed my arms over my chest, "Now does anyone else have issues? Anyone feel like confronting me? My left hook is just as good as my right; I took defense classes since I was eight. Really, have a go at me or my boyfriend, Go on I dare you, any of you." I waited, giving them a cold glare, before continuing, "No takers? Good. Someone should take her to the hospital wing. Now if you don't mind, I would like to spend some time with my boyfriend without interruptions. Take care that you heed what I tell you." Not a sound was made in the large and cold area, and it had seemed to drop a few degrees.

I picked up my jacket, gloves, and scarf, and slid in my bottom earrings and walked back over to where Kurt was. I slid into his lap and saw Sugar stagger out of the door, one girl on each side of her. I curled up in his lap, placing my things on top of his, and his arms closed around me again, small packets of conversation continuing around us. After a moment, he picked up my hand, and his eyes inspected it carefully, as if there were the risk I could have broken it.( Hell, I hadn't hit her that hard. I had given her a freakin love lick compared to all of the other punches I had thrown over the summers when I would go home. People liked to pick on me, thinking that I would be an easy target for them because I was so small. I was small, but I was no victim, and it shocked them when I could take down someone twice my size and three times my weight.) I smiled at him reassuringly, telling him, "It's okay. I didn't even hit her that hard; compared to some punches I've thrown, it was a like a love lick, minus the cozy feeling of love and affection." He rolled his eyes, and I relaxed against him again, no worries for the moment… Santana's voice permeated my thoughts, this time saying something I didn't expect.

"You've got guts, kitten. I didn't know you could hit like that," she praised and I looked up, an eyebrow raised. "There are a lot of things you don't know about me, Lopez," I said lazily, a detached tone just like her. Oh dear, I was already adapting to them. "Enlighten me," she smirked, and I sat up straighter, uncurling from his lap, and sat with my back against his chest. His arms were still around me as I said, "Well, it might interest you that I have thirteen siblings, seven sisters and five brothers." She leaned back in her chair, assessing me as I continued, "It might also interest you to know that I have fifteen scars, have lost three teeth, and had to regrow two of my toes due to the fights I would get in with people over the summer because they thought I was an easy target. What might also interest you, is the fact that there is no one who has surpassed me in academics in the entire school. I hold an average of 250% on every paper and test I make, potions included. So, not only am I physically capable, I also possess the intelligence quotient that Albus Dumbeldore has written about to the Ministry, for me to acquire a job as soon as I graduate." She did look impressed this time, giving me a sharp, short nod, her smirk nearing a real smile.

"You did decent Hummel," She admitted and Rachel rolled her eyes. "Please, you only think that because she could be your twin if she wasn't in Gryffindor," she remarked, and I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, and I gained a tan and a few inches in height, maybe. Most people mistake me for being related to Harry Potter," I muttered, and Kurt snorted, the sound ungraceful and strangely fitting him. "Did-did Hummel just snort?" A new voice asked and I looked to see a blonde boy seated at Santana's feet. "Sam Evans, resident Slytherin gay boy," he said, giving me a bitter smile. I blinked. What did it matter if he was gay? I had a gay brother… so I told him. "You know, you didn't have to tell me you're gay. It won't make a difference on whether I like you or not. I have a gay brother who's married and has a kid," I told him, speaking the truth, and he looked surprised. "Gay people can be married?" His British accent betrayed his shock, and I nodded. "Yes, in the US state of California, a law was passed a year ago that legalized Gay marriages," I said, and his smile widened to where it looked almost painful. "See? Now you and Blaine can run away after you graduate and the two of you can finally get married," Santana commented-and it didn't even sound like she was teasing. Huh. How very strange…

"Blaine who?" I asked, and Sam blushed. "Blaine Anderson, the Hufflepuff who loves to rant about muggle soccer and how it's the best sport ever made," Rachel clarified, looking all too happy to dish out the gossip. Well then. I gave him a curious look and he ducked his head as Santana continued, "He's too chicken to ask him out, even though it's obvious that the boy is as gay as he is. I keep telling him that Blaine gives him eye sex three times a day and he doesn't believe me," Santana drawled in her American accent. I gave Sam the most compassionate look out of the three, about to speak and tell him he really should ask him out, when he retorted to Santana's words. "At least, if I like a person of my own gender, he knows that all rainbows are refractions of light on water and not made by magical horses that have nothing to do with them in the first place," he snapped, and Santana's eyes narrowed. "Back off, Evans," she warned, and I wondered what in the hell was going on. Kurt's whisper in my ear clarified things as they bickered; the comments sharp and meant to hurt each other. What Kurt revealed shocked me a little, but it made so much sense that I felt guilty for being mean to her in the past.

"Santana has a reputation of being bitchy and keeping her personal life close to no one but her-it's for a reason, babe. Santana is a lesbian, and she doesn't want other people to judge her. She just as vulnerable as you and I, and there's nothing we can do to change the past with her. Do you think you could go a little easier on her? She's had it rough; in her house, they hate her for what she is, and she has no power against them. She's helpless there, but here…" He trailed off, his voice soft and pained for his friend, despite her cruel cover. I sighed as I leaned my head against his shoulder, looking up at him. "You're horrible, but I suppose so since you asked me nicely," I told him, and he gave a quiet laugh, kissing me softly on the cheek, his lips smooth, warm, and affectionate. "Training me already?" He asked as his lips lingered near the skin, his warm breath washing over the pale skin; I rolled my eyes dismissively and his grin became mischievous as he leaned over and murmured in a tone quieter and lower in pitch than before, "If you repeat the hallway experience from earlier, I might be willing to let you." I felt my cheeks burn, part of me mortified that he had said that, part of me thrilled at the prospect of it occurring again.

"What did you say to her?" Santana asked sharply, and I looked at her, confused, and a question passed through my mind. "Nothing consequential," Kurt said dismissively, and she relaxed immediately. Eyeing the pair of us, a smirk graced her lips again. "Is smirking your default setting? Do you ever actually smile?" I asked before my brain filtered it, and both of her eyebrows rose, smirk disappearing. "I mean, the Grinch may be your cousin and all, but it wouldn't kill you to smile once in a while. You should consider it sometime," I told her, and Rachel started laughing. "Oh, she's good," Sam chuckled, and Santana's lips twitched. I widened my eyes dramatically (wondering internally what in the hell I was doing) and gasped as I said, "_KURT… LOOK, SHE ALMOST DID IT!_" I whispered shouted the sentence to Kurt, who had his face buried in my neck as he trembled from his barely concealed laughter. And then, as Kurt gave into his laughter, the sound beautiful and heart meltingly sincere, a miracle happened. Santana smiled. A wide one spread across my face as she chuckled. "You're good elf. You'll fit in just fine," she said quietly, the small smile still there, the look in her eyes lighter than I had ever seen them.

Silence lulled around us as Santana and Sam began bickering again, and Rachel picked up a book, a gleam in her eye as she began to read it. Minutes, possibly even an hour passed, and the common room's chilly temperature began to get to me, my eyelids drooping with emotional exhaustion and lack of food. I was tired, so tired from all that had happened today. Tired and content were all the emotions I felt as I sat in the lap of my flamboyant boyfriend, in a common room where no one liked me besides him and his friends. Kurt tightened his grip on me, and I leaned into him more fully. Absently, he murmured a question in my ear, asking where the fire jar had gone. I wondered what he meant; before I remembered how I had shrunk the jar and put it in my pocket. "Did a soundless shrinking charm on it and put it in my jacket pocket," I replied, wishing it had gotten my cloak and draped it over me. I was almost sleepy now, content to have been accepted by the people closest to him. Dimly, I thought of my fight with Mercedes, and pain clenched my heart in my dozing state. I felt my eyes flutter in partial awareness as I sat there in his warm lap, one last painful stab of regret going through me before I went into blissful oblivion.

What seemed like a second later, I began to awake and enter the world of the living. My breathing pattern had changed, and Kurt noticed, and rested his face in the crook of my neck, kissing the skin where his teeth had been. My eyes opened quickly as his lips parted and the tip of his tongue, warm and wet, swiped across the tender teeth impressions. I inhaled sharply and felt the grin on his lips as the others turned to stare at me, curious looks on their faces. Well, except for Santana, who looked like a really smug bitch. I glared sleepily at her and they slowly went back to the conversations they were having. I turned my head slowly to Kurt, wanting to glare at him and smack him upside the head. "Despite what you may assume, you are not part snake. Stop _licking_ me, Kurt," I said in a soft hiss, sounding more like a snake than ever before (my friends liked to make the comparison when I talked quietly). "Make me," he challenged, and I scowled at him, shifting in his lap so I could look at him better. "May I remind you that I have five brothers? All who would be more than willing to-what's wrong with you?"

He was starting to piss me off, honestly. Now awake, I wondered what his deal was. He had been all teasing and flirty, and then he just completely zoned out after I began talking… and all I had done was scoot around in his lap so I could see him-

_Oh._ _Oh my._

My eyes widened as I felt it and he glared, the glazed look disappearing in his glasz eyes… and I pressed my lips together to hide the laughter. Poor Kurt, no wonder he had been so silent, so quiet compared to how he normally was. "Laugh, and we're over," he threatened. I couldn't help it, tears were clouding my eyes and it was so hard to hold in as I shook from the silent laughter. I succumbed to it and he groaned, hitting his head on the back of the chair with his eyes closed. I leaned against him, and he didn't say anything. Santana said something about me going insane, and I ignored it, still too overcome by the fact that Kurt Hummel had to be the most perverted guy I had met, and I had no idea how anyone had never known this fact. I sat up, still giggling helplessly, and looked at him before collapsing again. Angry, he retaliated, and bit me on my neck. I froze as he drew back, still mad. He bit me on my fucking neck. The laughter stopped, a shocked look crossing my face. His glasz eyes were angry, humiliated from my laughter, and I would have felt bad about it if he hadn't bit me. "You-you bit me." That was all I could get out in my shocked state, and then the anger took over. "What the hell, Kurt?" I hissed, and his glare remained steady.

"You shouldn't have laughed," he reasoned icily. "You _bit me you dumb ass!_ You don't bite people. That's a pre meditated form of lesser cannibalism!" I hissed again, and he snorted, muttering, "You didn't have a problem with it earlier." I continued to glare at him and wondered if it was bleeding. "You weren't trying to maul me then, and you only did it the first time because you were jealous of someone who's been in a relationship for two years," I retorted, rubbing my neck where he had bit me. "Oh, who are you kidding? Like he wouldn't drop her like a damn hot potato the second you told him you wanted him. He's been pining after you for years and you've been too blind to see it because-well, I don't know why, but I don't know why you're kidding yourself. The only reason guys never ask you out is because of Mercedes and Quinn. They tell people to back off so you can work on your school work and they back off like scared animals. If you ever showed the slightest interest in dating before now, you would have had guys all over you and you'd be averaging a seventy five percent instead of a two hundred fifty. You're delusional if you think otherwise, Nevaeh. I had every right to be jealous of him-"

He was angry, until he saw the pain in my face from the mention of Mercedes. He backtracked, horrified from what he had said, and I shook my head, sliding off of his lap and grabbing my things. I gave him a sad, pained smile, and said quietly, "The reason I told them that all I wanted to focus on was school work, the reason I told them that no one caught my interest, was because from the day I saw you on the train, I had been pining after you, Kurt. You. Not him, you. As you saw earlier, it wasn't a good idea to tell them that I liked you, loved you, whatever you want to label it. It was always, has always been, and always will be you. I never was interested in him, because he wasn't like you. No one was like you. And apparently you won't believe me if I tell you that you have no reason to be jealous, because you think that theoretically I could have been a harlot, had I chosen a different route. When you pull your head out of your emerald cloaked ass and decide that maybe your pride needs to be lowered a few degrees, let me know and maybe we can talk. I don't appreciate you biting me, and I apologize for my behavior, but I will not be called a harlot in round about terms. Grow up, and maybe we can work something out."

I marched across the common room, which was deathly silent again-and then a hand grabbed my elbow, stopping me. I turned to see Kurt looking down at me, an odd emotion shining in his eyes. "Let's go outside," he said quietly, and led me out of the common room and into the chilly hallway. Once there, I yanked my arm out of his grip, glaring at the beautiful boy before me. "What the hell is your problem?" I demanded, putting my hands on my hips, and his eyebrows rose. "My problem? I am a normal teenage boy, and you were there on my lap for an hour and a half, moving around like it was nobody's business. What did you expect me to do?" I rolled my eyes, exasperated. "Kurt, that fact does not even mildly relate to what I was referring to! Holy unidentified nuptials, I was talking about biting me! You fucking bit me because you were angry, Kurt. That is not sane behavior! Were you, I don't know, dropped on the head as a child? Not nursed enough? I mean, clue me in on why you bit me. Really, clarify that for me because the reason is just escaping me at the moment," I snapped. His eyes were narrowed at me, and it was hard to believe he looked angrier than he ever had than at this moment. I almost cowered.

"Look, Nevaeh, I can't explain it-I just wanted you to stop laughing before you had Santana asking what happened. What was I going to tell her? Tell me, how does 'Oh, it's nothing, I've had a girlfriend for about four hours and I got a boner when she sat in my lap so I must be part dog' sound? Uh, no, I don't think it sounds as good as you might think it does; I promise you it doesn't. So-" I made a frustrated noise, and he gave me an exhausted look "You are such a fucking drama queen," I muttered, my shoulders slouching and my eyes watering. He sighed, and I could picture him rubbing the back of his neck. I could see it so clearly, it almost made me smile. Almost. Silence, a tired silence, surrounded us, and I wondered how this relationship could feel so old, could feel like we had been together as long as Cedric and Maria. I rubbed a hand over my face and said quietly, "Maybe you were right, maybe this is too much. We're both so emotional, both have temper problems… Do you think it's worth it, to keep up with this, or are we simply deluding ourselves?" A beat of silence passed, and his two fingers, the pointer and the bird, tilted my head up so his lips could meet mine.

It was gentle, so gentle… and he stepped closer, his hands resting on my waist. His kisses moved to my cheek, across my jaw line, and down my neck, to where the two bites were. He kissed them gently, chastely, before his lips parted and his tongue darted out to soothe where the burning was, the burning that made my eyes sting. The pain soothed, and I sighed quietly, the sound content as I stood there with a hand resting on each of his biceps. "Don't ever doubt that this is worth it. I care for you too much to just let this go because of a stupid moment between us. We've been together for less than twelve hours, so maybe…" He paused, and then continued, closing his beautiful eyes. "Maybe we should ease up on the physical aspect of it before we make mistakes we can't fix. Just until we know we can get a better handle on it." I nodded slowly when he opened his eyes, and he smiled at me. I grinned, saying, "So that means no hallway excursions for training?" He hugged me to him, resting his head in top of mine and laughing gently. "No not yet," he teased, "but maybe after the ball." I pretended to pout and earned another quiet laugh as he took my coat, gloves and scarf from me, helping me put them on again.

After I was well attired, we stood there, me resting against him and his head resting on mine, until he asked, "Where are you going to sit at dinner? We only have a few minutes until we have to be down there, since we sat and you slept for almost four hours." I felt myself physically cringe, and spoke when I could find my voice. It sounded as tiny as I felt when I asked, "Would it be okay if I sat with you? I don't think they'll like me sitting with them…" A new voice interrupted, haughty and proud, but the words were tender, the best words I had heard all day. "Of course she can sit with us. I would drag her over anyway. She happens to be an honorary snake, since she had the balls to punch Karofsky's bimbo," Santana drawled, walking up and draping a long and tan arm around my shoulders as I stepped away from my boyfriend to look at her, puzzled. "An honorary snake?" I questioned as she dragged me away. She nodded, smirking. "Stand taller midget, be proud. You're making me look like a giant. And being an honorary snake is the highest honor that can be given, especially form someone like me." I had to say I believed her, since she made everyone else in the castle, except the teachers, cower in fear or her curses.

She continued as we headed down to the Great Hall, oblivious to the thrill of fear that went through me. "And since I have a good feeling about you, I'll go ahead and clue you in: You can dis my house all you want, but the second you out me to Brittany, I will end you," she said lightly. I blinked, wondering what in the hell she was talking about. "Who's Brittany?" I asked, and I thought I was imagining how her cheeks tinted pink. "Brittany Peirce," she said quietly, at a volume I thought she had never hit before. I looked up at her, sympathetic as I replied just as quietly. "You know, you should ask her to go to the ball with you. I bet she would say yes." She looked down at me, a strange emotion in her eyes. "You think so?" she asked, and I nodded earnestly. A small smile lit her face and she nodded. "Yeah, I should. Maybe I will, kitten," she allowed as we walked slowly down the hall to where I would certainly meet my social demise. Kurt appeared by my other side, taking my hand in his and giving me a heart meltingly charismatic smile. "Ohmygosh, Rachel just heard the best gossip!" He said, and I raised an eyebrow at him, never pinning him as the type to spread the gossip, more the one who heard it and deemed it unworthy of his attention.

"Puck asked Quinn to go to the ball with him, so Finn, wonderful brother that he is, is the only eligible Gryffindor bachelor left now in terms of the Ball," he said gleefully. I nodded slowly, wondering why that mattered, when he leaned over and whispered conspiratorially, "Rachel is obsessed with Finn. She would do anything to get to go with him. Well almost anything. She still won't give up that damn owl sweater, but… still. Anything," he said, and I wondered if he had noticed how I wasn't the only one glancing the way of the slytherins. I knew Finn had taken a certain liking to the brunette, but going up to her and asking of she liked him back would have been a bit out of the question even yesterday. His eyes twinkled in mischief and I grinned with him. "I say we corner them in the Astronomy tower, and lock them up." Santana said boredly, but her eyes were gleaming in excitement. I nodded, and looked behind us to see no Rachel Berry. "She dropped out on us last corridor," Santana informed me, and I wondered how she knew, but didn't bother asking. The truth was, I didn't want to know.

With her, sometimes, it was better to remain in the dark about some things.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four: Confrontation Climax

There was another silent moment, this one strangely comfortable as my boots clicked in synch with Santana's. I wondered, as we grew closer and closer with each step, how sleeping in my dorm would go tonight. It would most certainly not be comfortable. Not at all, with Mercedes and Quinn giving me looks that told me to crawl in a hole and die. Well, I would have to get used to it, wouldn't I? Mercedes could be a bitch when she wanted to, but I could be an even bigger one. She had no idea of what she had started. Santana tightened her grip on my shoulders so minutely I might have missed it, had I not been trying to focus on anything but my nerves at what we were about to do. She slowed her pace, coming to stop a few feet before the last corridor ended and we had to go down the stair case to the great hall. She looked down at me, as if judging me, seeing if I could stand what we were about to do. This, to me, was the real test. Could I hold my head high? I looked beside me, at the beautiful boy who had looked out of the windows, a grey light illuminating his sharp, porcelain like features. A fresh sense of determination, a need to prove Mercedes wrong, filled me and I looked back at Santana, smiling and giving her a nod.

A sadness was in her eyes as she smiled the smallest smile I had ever seen, a barely there quirk of the corners of her mouth, and nodded in a sharp downward motion. She tightened her grip again and we set off, dragging Kurt along, despite our momentary pit stop to refuel on emotional grit and a sense of perseverance. I squeezed Kurt's hand, and Santana saw it out of the corner of her eye. Her arm slid off of me, and she motioned her head for Kurt, telling me to go to him. I gave her a small and genuine smile, leaning into Kurt. He looked down at me, and I guess he recognized the worry on my face as we descended the stairs. To distract myself from his impending reassurances, I looked ahead of us-and there was Santana, sneering at a small and quickly approaching third year that all but tripped over herself to get out of Santana's way. "You know we'll all be there-and Finn will get his ass kicked if he goes with Mercedes. Puck is okay with anything as long as it's not incestful, and I'm not sure about Quinn, but she's dating Puck, so…" I looked up at him, curious as he looked down at me, stopping at the bottom of the stairs. "I think," I said slowly, "you're more nervous about this than I am." My words were bolder and more sure than I felt…

But as he shrugged, and I could see the worry in his eyes before he looked away, and I felt something strong and protective rise up. To hell with other people's opinions, no one should look that heart broken. I spoke my next words with steely determination.

"No, Kurt, no you don't-look at me and tell me what's wrong," I said gently and firmly, the corridor empty for now. He didn't look at me as a tear fell down his cheek, his breathing now shaky as he tried to reign in, to control his emotions. After a moment to gather his bearings, he sighed and said in a shaky whisper. "I just… what if you get in there and you think they have a point-or she manages to humiliate you into ending this? I just… I can handle a lot of things, but that wouldn't be one of them… I would commit murder, I swear I would," he muttered angrily, eyes sparkling with more unshed and bitter, hopeless tears. I softened at the pained look on his face, and I wondered how he could think that would happen… "Kurt, look at me," I said quietly, ignoring the sounds of the voices nearing. He looked down at me, and I ignored the sound of my heart shattering as I spoke quietly, earnest as I said, "Kurt Hummel, I did not threaten my best friend, hit Sugar Motta, and shove Santana Lopez to back down. I did not face your brother and Puck, the male mouth of the school, to back out of this. I did not go to the Slytherin common room and survive it to call it quits."

I took a breath, continuing to speak to him in the same low and stern tone, the voices getting louder and louder as they neared the stairs. "Stop doubting this, us… Stop doubting _me_. You act like I'll run for the hills at the first sign of Mercedes coming my way to persuade me. I told you I had a stubborn streak, and I meant it. If you wanted to get rid of me, you'd have a damn hard time trying." I paused, giving him a soft smile. "Now, be a good five hour boyfriend and give me a kiss," I said in a sweet tone that belied how badly I wanted him to kiss me like he had earlier in the hallway; he smiled, tears running out of the corners of his eyes as he closed them, leaning forward and cupping my face in his long fingered hands. I stood as far up as I could, to ease the height difference, and felt his smile widen in amusement. I leaned back after a moment, muttering, "You need to be shorter," before our lips met again, slow and lazy this time. A gasp was echoed in the entryway and I ignored it as I heard some girl whisper form the top of the stairs about how a Gryffindor and a Slytherin were kissing and how we weren't supposed to do that, how it was wrong because we were natural enemies.

I tore my lips away from his as the girl's words registered, and I leveled a glare on her. "What did you say about me little girl?" I challenged, and she backtracked in her whispers to her younger friends. She gave me a disapproving look, and sniffed turning her nose up. "What you two have us unnatural. You should end it before your relationship goes up in flames," she said haughtily, her Ravenclaw crest shining brightly on her black robes. "Maybe if you could look past your abnormally enlarged nose Andromeda, you would see that we are perfect for each other. So keep you little fourth year mouth out of our business and I won't have to go and tell your mother that you lost your virginity a week ago to Travis Black," Kurt retorted. The girl sputtered angrily before marching off, her friends looking just as disdainful as Kurt did when he stared them down. I sighed, saying, "Shall we go? That seems to be our cue." He rolled his eyes, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on my mouth, before straightening up and grabbing my hand in his. "Very well, if you insist my dear." He said affectionate and teasing all at once. I smiled up at him as he led me into the noisy great hall, a proud and tall young man as I laced my fingers through his.

The people in the Hall didn't notice us at first. Too befuddled by the food and reconnecting with friends after snow ball wars, there was a sense of overwhelming camaraderie as we walked to the Slytherin table. I felt like shrinking into his side, but remained with my hand firmly in his, simply lingering closely like many couples did. I glanced at Santana, who gave me her signature smirk, looking at me like she was a proud parent. I continued walking with him until we reached the table, and he was ever the gentleman, waiting for me to slide onto the bench before he slid in beside me, a smile still on his porcelain face. The food wasn't any different here, despite how the people who were in my house joked that they ate rats and other nasty things that a real snake would eat. I always knew they were insane, I thought happily as Kurt helped me fix a plate (I always need assistance, because things were out of reach and people tended to ignore a small person like me in general.) of lasagna, salad, and bread rolls. I was eating, listening to the quiet chatter around me, and was nearly done, when I noticed something-or, rather it was someone headed my way. For once, it was not her voice that preceded her, but the grim aura she held.

She seemed to make people fall silent as she walked over to the table where I now resided, and all eyes focused on Mercedes Jones. I looked up, as if disinterested when she stood behind me. I gave her a look torn between exasperation and disgust. "Yes?" I said after swallowing the pumpkin juice I had just taken a swallow of. "Why aren't you sitting at your table?" She hissed, looking betrayed. I raised an eye brow as I carefully stood. Kurt's hand went to my elbow and I let it rest there, his touch calming the rising anger as everyone seemed to hold their breathe. "I am sitting at my table, Jones. I sit with people who accept me and love me for who I am. I sit with the people who do not let prejudices that formed centuries before their time blind them. I begged you to just tolerate-not like or approve, but tolerate, the idea of us going to the ball together, and you refused. Unless your viewpoint has changed then you shouldn't be here. You should be with people who think like you do, because I don't. I never did," I said calmly, feeling Kurt's grip tightening on my arm. "Then why don't you just transfer to Slytherin and make everyone's life easier?" She said, raising her voice in her anger.

I shrugged non comitally, and she blanked. "I'm going to discuss with the Headmaster and McGonagall after dinner, now that you mention it. Now, would you care to go somewhere else? I don't like spreading my business for everyone to hear, and there's a package arriving for me soon," I said, the lie spilling out of my mouth as if it were the real intentions I had had from the beginning. Disgusted, she shook her head, and walked away, whispered conversation about what had happened starting around us. I sat numbly, and felt my lower lip tremble. A warm arm wrapped around me, to console me, and I leaned in, feeling the familiar warmth that was Kurt Hummel. Santana reached over and patted my leg under the table, as affectionate as she would get in public. I wasn't hungry anymore, and picked at the food on my plate, slowly putting a bite in my mouth as a few minutes passed. I had just finished the plate and my drink, when there were several gasps heard from the other side of the room, where the Gryffindor table was situated. "ARE YOU INSANE FINN HUDSON?" Mercedes bellowed, and I saw several of the teachers tensing, preparing to intervene.

No longer numb, I stood to see the reason of Mercedes new anger… But she stormed out, leaving a furious looking Finn, who stormed away from the Gryffindor table, heading for where I was. My eyes widened minutely in fear, before he reached where we were and collapsed on the opposite side, his head resting on the table with a dull thump, Puck and Quinn joining him moments later. I gave them questioning looks as I sank into my seat, puzzled by what had happened… and remembered what Kurt had whispered in my ear earlier. Well then. I looked between the slumped figure of Finn, and the reddening face of Rachel Berry, knowing what he had said was true. Hmmm. How interesting… I looked towards the staff table, where the headmaster was sitting, as confused and torn looking as I felt inside. Everyone seemed to be finished as whispers floated around the hall and I kept my gaze locked with Albus Dumbeldore. Finally, barely noticeable, he gave a nod. I bit my lower lip, leaning into Kurt and whispering, "I think, if you're done, it would be best to make an exit." Finn's head shot up at the words and I gave him a small nod as we stood, the other members of our now roughly formed circle following suit.

All that was missing seemed to be two people… but that would come later, I supposed. I gripped my hand tightly in Kurt's as people spared us disdaining looks as we passed, heads held high. One kid, as we neared the exit, was dumb enough to call out that Kurt was gay. I froze mid step, the pose funny but not even remotely amusing at the moment. I turned to glare at the Hispanic boy, and he looked startled by the anger on my features that were normally so innocent and happy. "Look, you little twerp, the last person who said that ended up on the Slytherin common room floor with a broken and bleeding nose. If you'd like to keep body parts attached then-" The boy had the gall to scoff at me, and my wand was out of my back pocket and whipped in his direction with a wordless spell. Everyone seemed frozen as his body levitated. "Miss Johnson," a sharp voice said, and I said the counter charm in my head, the boy falling onto the bench roughly as I turned to glare at Albus Dumbeldore. "Give me detention, give me lines, dish out punishment; It's nothing compared to the prejudice I've gone through today. Expel me, make me clean out the dungeons, I don't _care_ anymore. This school is so overrun with prejudices that there's no possible way to enjoy life here."

I paused, chest heaving slightly before I continued, eyes growing wet and angry, "So just make it even happier and all roses and fucking sunshine for me headmaster. Ban me from the ball and solve all of my problems. Do it, please. Honestly, over the past five hours, I've learned not to care," I spat, furious. His blue eyes were saddened and surprised as I continued, not caring who heard anymore. "None of these people, none of them, knows what this is like. None of them would be willing to go through with what I have already endured. I won't say I'm courageous. I won't say I'm brilliantly smart because of it. No, you won't hear that. I'm stubborn and stupid with horrible temper problems… But I also know what I want. I want to go to this ball with Kurt, I want to be able to go with him and dance every song with him. I want what every girl does-the chance to shine, and be adored for at least one night…." I trailed off, before my anger blazed and I continued fiercely, "But I can't have that, because I have to defend what I want from other people. I have to fight every second to prove that this is what I want for a ball that no will think twice about after it's over… and if you ask me, that's pretty shitty," I finished quietly, hating the pity in his gaze as two tears fell down my reddened cheeks.

I turned to walk away, and realized Kurt had been looking behind me, at the students who were watching the scene with rapt attention. He sneered, his high and cold, yet beautiful voice echoing as he said. "You want gossip? Look at yourselves, eating dinner, happy and safe and in your comfort zone. If any of you spineless cowards had to face what my girlfriend has-losing your best friend, never ending mocking-you would have turned tail and ran like the cowards you are. Call her a coward, call her worthless or even insane. But she has more spine than all of you if you cannot accept the fact that we have agreed to go together. It is sickening that you would choose to jeer and laugh at two people who simply long to be happy with each other in peace. You call Slytherins sickening, underhanded and spineless cowards. I see no houses with brains, with bravery, or kindness." His glasz eyes sparked fire as he continued; all of the students seemed to hold their breath for every word he spewed. His words, so elaborate, were: "I see a mass of spineless fools and sniveling cowards that refuse to side with those who would gladly defend them had they the chance. All of you, all of you do not deserve the chance to learn magic."

"I say this not because of blood status, but because we are a race elite, a race above the meager humans who have no inner magic, and yet we cannot band together. Without that, without an inner sense of unity, magic is useless, and there is no point to the school. And you, Sanchez? You can fuck off, and maybe own up to the fact that you're gay before you leave here."

He stopped, angry and not the least bit winded as he pulled on my hand, leading me out of the hall, stunned.


End file.

Glee, Harry Potter, Humor, Romance