Systems (1/?) Kum, Hogwarts AU
Title: Systems
Pairings: Brittana, Kum
Length: ~3500 words
Dedicated to my dear Aidan, for his birthday <3
Summary: Hogwarts is great, of course it is, and Sam loves it there - but sometimes he can't help but feel like something is missing. That's when an exchange student is announced at the welcoming feast...
Surely, Sam Evans reflected as he absently made his wand twirl around his fingers, he was supposed to feel a little more excited for this start of a new year in Hogwarts. Certainly six years ago he would have had trouble believing anyone telling him that he’d one day be seated under floating candles and feeling starved and bored out of his mind as he waited for announcements about forbidden forests to be over with so food could (finally) appear out of thin air. But, well, even though the thrill of thinking magic is real still occasionally made him shiver in disbelief and even though studying Charms or Transfiguration was a lot more interesting than failing Maths had ever been, the fact of the matter was that after five years spent in Hogwarts, he felt more than ready to pack up and leave. He knew Mike or Artie didn’t understand this feeling in the slightest; like most students here, they were more than happy to have two whole years left in Hogwarts, even with the threat of the NEWTs slowly approaching.
He had more than once tried to express to them the cause of his unrest, but he had always lacked in eloquence and his hesitant “there’s just something…missing here” hadn’t been quite explanatory enough. His friends had eventually shrugged a little and chalked it up to a weird attachment to the Muggle world, which couldn’t have been farther from the truth. Only Brittany had taken him seriously, or as seriously as she took anything: she had nodded thoughtfully as he tried to put in words how he felt empty in Hogwarts, before declaring he was just missing part of his soul - like her before she’d met Santana. He’d smiled and laughed a bit awkwardly as Mike joked that any hole in his soul could surely be filled by chicken wings later at dinner, completely unwilling to admit Brittany’s nonsensical diagnostic had struck a chord in him.
“…And finally, before I leave you all to your eagerly-awaited welcoming feast, I’d like you to welcome yet another new student here.”
Sam perked up a bit - for a student to be announced now, he had to be transferring, which was rare enough to deserve some attention. Whispers were already resonating within the Hall and Sam felt a pang of compassion for the slight figure currently stepping forward under the avid eyes of the whole school; he wouldn’t have liked to be in his place.
“M. Kurt Hummel is transferring from Beauxbâtons, and will join the Sixth Years. M. Hummel, please take place on this stool so the Hat may sort you.”
Everyone shut up once more and the new kid made his way to the teacher holding the Sorting Hat in an impressive silence. He didn’t falter once, not even when it became glaringly obvious the small stool hadn’t been designed with a sixteen-year-old boy in mind and snickers started coming from the younger students: he simply gracefully folded his legs enough to be able to sit.
Sam found himself genuinely admiring Hummel’s poise, and to his own surprise he realised he was for some reason strongly wishing, almost praying really, for the new kid to join him at the Badgers’ table.
“GRYFFINDOR!”
Of course, Sam thought, rolling his eyes as he saw Hudson and Puckerman banging on their table with their fists instead of simply clapping along, of course the new kid would go to Gryffindor. He was probably relieved to have been sorted in the “best house”: soon enough he’d have learnt that Slytherins were to be avoided at all costs, Ravenclaws were huge nerds at best and annoying do-gooders at worst and Hufflepuffs were simply boring, not worth a second glance. It was just the way it was and Sam had rarely resented it in the past few years, nor had he ever wished to be dressed in red and gold instead of black and yellow - and yet, as the feast finally appeared in front of them, he found that his appetite was gone, victim of the slightly bitter taste the evening’s events had left on his tongue.
***
The sixth years had no major exams in June, but you wouldn’t have known it hearing their teachers explain just how vital this year was for their future before plying them with homework to do for the next week. By the time Sam got to Defence, only his fifth class of the year, he already had two essays to write and a clay teapot he was meant to transform into a turtle safely tucked underneath his bed, where it was unlikely to be broken by careless feet and more unlikely yet to be remembered in time for his next Transfiguration class.
Stepping foot in the Defence classroom a good ten minutes early - and alone, Mike and Brittany having decided they didn’t need to take advanced Defence - Sam was surprised to see the new kid sitting on the far right of the room, textbook, quill and wand already out and meticulously arranged in front of him. It was the first time he’d seen him since the welcoming feast and he felt a strange little jolt in his chest as Hummel raised his face to face him and revealed pale skin, very pink lips and truly startling blue-green eyes. Sam threw him a
rather hesitant smile and was relieved to receive one in return, though one even more uncertain than his.
He realized he was frozen in the classroom’s doorstep and mentally shook himself; still hesitantly, he slowly made his way to where Hummel was sitting, firmly telling himself the only reason he was doing so was because it was in his nature to be friendly.
“Can I sit there?”
Considering the classroom was still completely empty apart from them, he probably deserved the raised eyebrow his question got him. He hurriedly attempted to justified himself.
“I mean, are you waiting for anyone or…?” He trailed off.
“Ah, no, I’m not. Please.” Hummel took a hold of the schoolbag at his feet and pulled it a bit farther under his chair in a move that was technically useless but welcoming all the same; encouraged, Sam sat and started to rummage through his bag, ostensibly looking for his stuff and secretly racking his brain for a conversation topic.
“I’m Kurt Hummel, by the way.”
Right, introductions. Always a good idea.
“Pleasure to meet you. I’m Evans - Sam Evans.”
“Secret Agent 008?”
Sam could merely blink at him at first and Kurt looked away, obviously embarrassed.
“Sorry, my dad is a Muggle and I keep making those weird references.”
“No, don’t worry!” Sam quickly backpedalled. “People don’t refer to James Bond that often around here so I was a bit surprised. But I totally got what you mean - I’m Muggleborn. And I think I’ve seen each James Bond at least five times.”
“Oh, you’re Muggleborn? It must have been destabilizing to receive your Hogwarts letter.”
“To be honest, my parents and I thought it was a very elaborate prank until Mrs. Crooner came to check why I hadn’t answered my letter yet. And even then it took her quite a while to find a spell both harmless and impressive enough to convince us she wasn’t just a very talented magician doing kid’s shows.” The memory of his stern teacher’s face, torn between patience and indignation as his parents became more and more sceptical of her apparently wild tales, made him laugh to that day and this time was no exception; Hummel chuckled a bit alongside him, low but earnest, and as silence fell between them once more Sam found it felt much more comfortable than their five-minute-long acquaintance should allow.
The classroom slowly started to fill, welcoming more students than any other of Sam’s classes this far, though not as many as there had been directly after the Second Death War, when a sort of paranoia had driven almost every student to want to be able to defend themselves against a potential resurgence of You-Know-Who’s forces.
Unsurprisingly, Hudson and Puck were also part of the class; rather than making a beeline for their favourite place in the back, though, they stopped by their table, dismissing Sam after a quick glance and focusing on Hummel. Some tension immediately grew as the sitting boy refused to raise his gaze from where it was studying his quill to acknowledge the two.
“So, uh, you found the way with no trouble?” Hudson was obviously uncomfortable, perhaps even apologetic, and admittedly Sam was very curious to know what could have happened in not even a week to cause this uncharacteristic attitude from the Gryffindor Prefect.
“I did, thank you. Your indications were clear, I was even a bit early.” Hummel’s tone was perfectly polite, but his eyes still didn’t meet the other teens’.
It was the perfect moment for an “arriving early” joke yet Puck stayed silent, eyes looking anywhere but at Kurt, and Sam’s curiosity became tinged with concern because anything that could make Puck act like this had to be bad.
“All right?” He whispered as the teacher came in and the two Gryffindors moved on to the last row of tables.
Hummel threw him a side glance, clearly still perturbed by the intrusion but smiling weakly at his show of concern all the same.
“Yes, thank you,” he whispered back, before turning to face the teacher, wordlessly indicating to Sam there’d be no discussion while the class went on. Normally Sam wouldn’t have minded in the slightest, especially considering that like every year they had a new teacher in Defence and it was always best to try and get a measure of how they’d teach the class early, but this time he had to admit he was more than a little disappointed not to be able to get to know Hummel a bit further. He who was known for his laidback attitude out of the Quidditch pitch found himself nervously jiggling his leg and changing positions a few times during class, a nameless energy running through his veins and keeping him from sitting still.
Hummel seemed to have no such problems, apparently shaking off the confrontation and concentrating on the teacher’s words with ease. The class at least answered one of Sam’s questions: he didn’t know how the teaching in Beauxbâtons differed from here, but by Hogwarts’ standards at least Hummel was good in Defence - excellent, actually. They had apparently lucked out this year big time with Mr Schuester, getting a teacher who believed in practice more than in essays, and Hummel had performed every spell asked of them with panache and a fierce concentration that was a marvel to see.
Sam had to hurry after the bell rang to get to his next class, which was on the other side of the castle. He explained as much to Hummel who nodded in understanding and waved him off with a friendly “see you soon, Sam”. The incongruous elation he felt in answer lasted all the way to the dungeons, where it finally occurred to him that using first names had to be routine in Beauxbâtons. He pondered whether it meant he should call Hummel Kurt and immediately tried the name on his tongue once or twice, deciding he liked how it sounded, before groaning aloud as he looked at the time and realised all his dallying in the corridors had made him late for Potions.
***
Kurt’s time this far in Hogwarts hadn’t been all he had dared to hope for before his transfer. He had had his fears, of course, arriving for his sixth year in a boarding school where everyone already knew each other, but he hadn’t expected to mess things up so quickly. It had admittedly been a relief at first to be sorted into Gryffindor, or more precisely to have avoided Slytherin; he knew himself to be capable of being manipulative when it suited him, so it had definitively been a possibility, and for all his tries at keeping an open mind he had still dreaded how they would react to the arrival of a half-blood - and a foreigner to boot - in their midst. He had avoided finding out, but in spite of Gryffindor’s reputation it seemed the lions weren’t too interested in making him feel welcome either; apparently, certain implicit rules weren’t to be broken if you wished to fit in.
The first of those rules was not to mess with Hudson and Puckerman, Gryffindor’s golden boys and star Chasers of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Well, Kurt reflected from his armchair in the common room where he was focusing on the book in his hands in order not to get blinded by the frankly alarming colour scheme, it wasn’t exactly his fault if their first meeting hadn’t gone well.
“I say, Hummel, what did you do to dumb and dumber? It’s been a while since I saw the two of them act ashamed, and considering you don’t have the ability to take their precious house points away it’s even more impressive. So what gives? Care to share your secret, French boy?”
Kurt raised his eyes from the very first page of his book, a bit startled to find himself so casually addressed. The girl standing next to his chair with her left hand on her hip seemed friendly enough, in spite of the slightly mocking smile she bore. He carefully pondered what he could possibly answer her.
“I’m not actually French - both my parents were born in Britain, although I believe I have some German ancestry somewhere in my family tree. That’s where my name comes from; Hummel is bumblebee in German.”
She blinked, obviously unsure what to do with this information.
“…right. That’s pretty ridiculous, though being named after a car I guess I can’t throw stones. I’m Mercedes Jones, by the way.”
She held her hand out as she talked, her gaze still direct and frank, and Kurt tentatively decided he liked her. Except for Sam, the blond guy from earlier, she was the first friendly face he had met yet.
“Do I call you Mercedes, or do you also swear by the out-dated custom of last names only?”
“Mercedes is fine, Kurt. Is that how you pissed off Puck and Hudson? Did you try to call them Finn and Noah?”
She was tenacious; Kurt had to give her that.
“I thought you said they were contrite rather than irate?” He deflected.
“For now, yeah, but righteous anger is the next step. They’re not exactly big fans of anything that make them look bad, you know?”
“I can guess.”
He smiled at her, one of his first sincere smiles in a while, and she was visibly startled by the sight. She finally dropped into one of the armchairs next to his, apparently resigning herself to continued ignorance about his first meeting with the two boys.
“So, what are you reading?” She asked instead, grimacing when he turned his book enough for her to read its title and immediately asking him whether he wasn’t secretly a Ravenclaw.
They kept exchanging barbs for a while, but the ambiance had changed; the quips they threw at each other were friendly banter rather than a wary battle of wits, and when they finally separated to get some sleep, Kurt was starting to feel slightly optimistic towards his coming years in his new school.
***
The next morning he was feeling much less optimistic, if only because his first sight as he woke was his roommates’ empty beds and the vacant space on his night table where his alarm clock was conspicuously missing. Apparently Mercedes had been right, and Puck’s and Hudson’s embarrassment had soon turned into resentment, which in turn manifested itself in juvenile pranks. He sighed and quickly cast a Tempus spell, thankful to see he hadn’t missed his first class, though breakfast was a no-go if he wanted to get to the greenhouses in time for Herbology.
He dressed quicker than he had ever had to in his life, barely taking the time to arrange his hair, and literally flew down the stairs, startling a few students playing cards in a corner of the common room.
He was almost in the Great Hall - he didn’t exactly know where he was going, but he figured heading outside first was probably the best plan - when he had to brutally stop his fast-paced walk to avoid running into a tall blond girl who had suddenly appeared in the corridor from behind - a tapestry? Hogwarts was weird. He had already opened his mouth to protest when two boys joined her a bit more carefully, one of them very recognisable.
“Kurt!” Sam exclaimed, a big smile immediately stretching his lips, and in spite of how much life seemed to suck right now Kurt couldn’t help but smile back at his genuine enthusiasm. “You weren’t at breakfast.”
“Um, no, I overslept. Speaking of which, could you please point me the direction to the greenhouses?”
“Herbology is your first class?” Kurt privately wondered, a bit acerbically, what else he could be studying there, but he outwardly just nodded.
“Then you’re with Brittany, she can show you there. Hopefully. And here-” Sam took a hold of one of the two muffins the boy by his side had been silently holding and expertly threw it to Kurt. “Don’t waste away before you have even tried all your classes.”
Kurt expected the boy who had just been robbed to protest, but instead he just threw a nice smile at Kurt, who wondered for a second just why he couldn’t have been put in Hufflepuff too, in spite of the abominable colour scheme.
“Those are blueberry, my favourite, hope you like them. And don’t worry, our common room is just besides the kitchens if I want more later. I’m Mike Chang, by the way.”
“Kurt Hummel, nice to meet you and, um, thanks for the muffin. I - we - should probably get going?” He made it a question, not wanting to seem rude but almost feeling the time ticking by.
“Oh yeah, you’re right! Brittany, d’you think you will find the way?” Even as the blond girl nodded, Kurt absently wondered which kind of person would find it difficult to get to class after five full years spent going there once a week.
“San’ is meeting me in the Hall and we’re going together.” The girl answered, grinning, and Kurt saw Sam suppress a smile of his own.
“Right, that’s perfect. Kurt, er, good luck with Santana and have a nice class, okay? We’ll probably see you at lunch.”
Kurt just had the time to nod to Sam and wave a little in answer to Mike’s goodbye before the two boys were back beneath the tapestry, having apparently only wished to accompany their friend; Kurt wondered, considering their recent exchange, if they had feared she would get lost.
***
Santana - or Lopez, as she’d introduced herself, though it was hard to remember when Brittany kept calling her by her first name - wasn’t exactly the sweet and helpful girl he had imagined when Brittany had first mentioned her. First of all, she was a Slytherin, admittedly a surprise; but more than that, she-
“So you’re the new lion everyone’s whispering about? The mane on your head certainly justifies what you’re doing in the house of Stupidity; I guess the only wonder is that your eyes haven’t been burnt by all the gold and red yet.”
-was quite caustic. Kurt blinked in surprise, even as his hand flew to his tragically untreated hair and patted it reassuringly, discreetly checking it wasn’t really that bad.
“If you take it this way, I guess your forked tongue was what got you into Slytherin?” He shot back, and it was Santana’s turn to look taken aback.
“But I don’t look anything like a badger.” Brittany’s mournful tone distracted them from what was promising to be a truly spectacular exchange of insults and Kurt watched in fascination as Santana’s face immediately went from shock to pure affection at the blond girl’s intervention.
“Not true Britt, I’m pretty sure your nose is just like a baby badger’s,” Santana answered, her voice still mocking but having pretty much lost its bite.
There was definitively something there, Kurt thought, and figured he had been just about proven right when the two girls pairing up to work on their Herbology project didn’t get them more than a few unsurprised glances from the rest of the students in spite of the contrasting colours of their ties.
Pairings: Brittana, Kum
Length: ~3500 words
Dedicated to my dear Aidan, for his birthday <3
Summary: Hogwarts is great, of course it is, and Sam loves it there - but sometimes he can't help but feel like something is missing. That's when an exchange student is announced at the welcoming feast...
Surely, Sam Evans reflected as he absently made his wand twirl around his fingers, he was supposed to feel a little more excited for this start of a new year in Hogwarts. Certainly six years ago he would have had trouble believing anyone telling him that he’d one day be seated under floating candles and feeling starved and bored out of his mind as he waited for announcements about forbidden forests to be over with so food could (finally) appear out of thin air. But, well, even though the thrill of thinking magic is real still occasionally made him shiver in disbelief and even though studying Charms or Transfiguration was a lot more interesting than failing Maths had ever been, the fact of the matter was that after five years spent in Hogwarts, he felt more than ready to pack up and leave. He knew Mike or Artie didn’t understand this feeling in the slightest; like most students here, they were more than happy to have two whole years left in Hogwarts, even with the threat of the NEWTs slowly approaching.
He had more than once tried to express to them the cause of his unrest, but he had always lacked in eloquence and his hesitant “there’s just something…missing here” hadn’t been quite explanatory enough. His friends had eventually shrugged a little and chalked it up to a weird attachment to the Muggle world, which couldn’t have been farther from the truth. Only Brittany had taken him seriously, or as seriously as she took anything: she had nodded thoughtfully as he tried to put in words how he felt empty in Hogwarts, before declaring he was just missing part of his soul - like her before she’d met Santana. He’d smiled and laughed a bit awkwardly as Mike joked that any hole in his soul could surely be filled by chicken wings later at dinner, completely unwilling to admit Brittany’s nonsensical diagnostic had struck a chord in him.
“…And finally, before I leave you all to your eagerly-awaited welcoming feast, I’d like you to welcome yet another new student here.”
Sam perked up a bit - for a student to be announced now, he had to be transferring, which was rare enough to deserve some attention. Whispers were already resonating within the Hall and Sam felt a pang of compassion for the slight figure currently stepping forward under the avid eyes of the whole school; he wouldn’t have liked to be in his place.
“M. Kurt Hummel is transferring from Beauxbâtons, and will join the Sixth Years. M. Hummel, please take place on this stool so the Hat may sort you.”
Everyone shut up once more and the new kid made his way to the teacher holding the Sorting Hat in an impressive silence. He didn’t falter once, not even when it became glaringly obvious the small stool hadn’t been designed with a sixteen-year-old boy in mind and snickers started coming from the younger students: he simply gracefully folded his legs enough to be able to sit.
Sam found himself genuinely admiring Hummel’s poise, and to his own surprise he realised he was for some reason strongly wishing, almost praying really, for the new kid to join him at the Badgers’ table.
“GRYFFINDOR!”
Of course, Sam thought, rolling his eyes as he saw Hudson and Puckerman banging on their table with their fists instead of simply clapping along, of course the new kid would go to Gryffindor. He was probably relieved to have been sorted in the “best house”: soon enough he’d have learnt that Slytherins were to be avoided at all costs, Ravenclaws were huge nerds at best and annoying do-gooders at worst and Hufflepuffs were simply boring, not worth a second glance. It was just the way it was and Sam had rarely resented it in the past few years, nor had he ever wished to be dressed in red and gold instead of black and yellow - and yet, as the feast finally appeared in front of them, he found that his appetite was gone, victim of the slightly bitter taste the evening’s events had left on his tongue.
***
The sixth years had no major exams in June, but you wouldn’t have known it hearing their teachers explain just how vital this year was for their future before plying them with homework to do for the next week. By the time Sam got to Defence, only his fifth class of the year, he already had two essays to write and a clay teapot he was meant to transform into a turtle safely tucked underneath his bed, where it was unlikely to be broken by careless feet and more unlikely yet to be remembered in time for his next Transfiguration class.
Stepping foot in the Defence classroom a good ten minutes early - and alone, Mike and Brittany having decided they didn’t need to take advanced Defence - Sam was surprised to see the new kid sitting on the far right of the room, textbook, quill and wand already out and meticulously arranged in front of him. It was the first time he’d seen him since the welcoming feast and he felt a strange little jolt in his chest as Hummel raised his face to face him and revealed pale skin, very pink lips and truly startling blue-green eyes. Sam threw him a
rather hesitant smile and was relieved to receive one in return, though one even more uncertain than his.
He realized he was frozen in the classroom’s doorstep and mentally shook himself; still hesitantly, he slowly made his way to where Hummel was sitting, firmly telling himself the only reason he was doing so was because it was in his nature to be friendly.
“Can I sit there?”
Considering the classroom was still completely empty apart from them, he probably deserved the raised eyebrow his question got him. He hurriedly attempted to justified himself.
“I mean, are you waiting for anyone or…?” He trailed off.
“Ah, no, I’m not. Please.” Hummel took a hold of the schoolbag at his feet and pulled it a bit farther under his chair in a move that was technically useless but welcoming all the same; encouraged, Sam sat and started to rummage through his bag, ostensibly looking for his stuff and secretly racking his brain for a conversation topic.
“I’m Kurt Hummel, by the way.”
Right, introductions. Always a good idea.
“Pleasure to meet you. I’m Evans - Sam Evans.”
“Secret Agent 008?”
Sam could merely blink at him at first and Kurt looked away, obviously embarrassed.
“Sorry, my dad is a Muggle and I keep making those weird references.”
“No, don’t worry!” Sam quickly backpedalled. “People don’t refer to James Bond that often around here so I was a bit surprised. But I totally got what you mean - I’m Muggleborn. And I think I’ve seen each James Bond at least five times.”
“Oh, you’re Muggleborn? It must have been destabilizing to receive your Hogwarts letter.”
“To be honest, my parents and I thought it was a very elaborate prank until Mrs. Crooner came to check why I hadn’t answered my letter yet. And even then it took her quite a while to find a spell both harmless and impressive enough to convince us she wasn’t just a very talented magician doing kid’s shows.” The memory of his stern teacher’s face, torn between patience and indignation as his parents became more and more sceptical of her apparently wild tales, made him laugh to that day and this time was no exception; Hummel chuckled a bit alongside him, low but earnest, and as silence fell between them once more Sam found it felt much more comfortable than their five-minute-long acquaintance should allow.
The classroom slowly started to fill, welcoming more students than any other of Sam’s classes this far, though not as many as there had been directly after the Second Death War, when a sort of paranoia had driven almost every student to want to be able to defend themselves against a potential resurgence of You-Know-Who’s forces.
Unsurprisingly, Hudson and Puck were also part of the class; rather than making a beeline for their favourite place in the back, though, they stopped by their table, dismissing Sam after a quick glance and focusing on Hummel. Some tension immediately grew as the sitting boy refused to raise his gaze from where it was studying his quill to acknowledge the two.
“So, uh, you found the way with no trouble?” Hudson was obviously uncomfortable, perhaps even apologetic, and admittedly Sam was very curious to know what could have happened in not even a week to cause this uncharacteristic attitude from the Gryffindor Prefect.
“I did, thank you. Your indications were clear, I was even a bit early.” Hummel’s tone was perfectly polite, but his eyes still didn’t meet the other teens’.
It was the perfect moment for an “arriving early” joke yet Puck stayed silent, eyes looking anywhere but at Kurt, and Sam’s curiosity became tinged with concern because anything that could make Puck act like this had to be bad.
“All right?” He whispered as the teacher came in and the two Gryffindors moved on to the last row of tables.
Hummel threw him a side glance, clearly still perturbed by the intrusion but smiling weakly at his show of concern all the same.
“Yes, thank you,” he whispered back, before turning to face the teacher, wordlessly indicating to Sam there’d be no discussion while the class went on. Normally Sam wouldn’t have minded in the slightest, especially considering that like every year they had a new teacher in Defence and it was always best to try and get a measure of how they’d teach the class early, but this time he had to admit he was more than a little disappointed not to be able to get to know Hummel a bit further. He who was known for his laidback attitude out of the Quidditch pitch found himself nervously jiggling his leg and changing positions a few times during class, a nameless energy running through his veins and keeping him from sitting still.
Hummel seemed to have no such problems, apparently shaking off the confrontation and concentrating on the teacher’s words with ease. The class at least answered one of Sam’s questions: he didn’t know how the teaching in Beauxbâtons differed from here, but by Hogwarts’ standards at least Hummel was good in Defence - excellent, actually. They had apparently lucked out this year big time with Mr Schuester, getting a teacher who believed in practice more than in essays, and Hummel had performed every spell asked of them with panache and a fierce concentration that was a marvel to see.
Sam had to hurry after the bell rang to get to his next class, which was on the other side of the castle. He explained as much to Hummel who nodded in understanding and waved him off with a friendly “see you soon, Sam”. The incongruous elation he felt in answer lasted all the way to the dungeons, where it finally occurred to him that using first names had to be routine in Beauxbâtons. He pondered whether it meant he should call Hummel Kurt and immediately tried the name on his tongue once or twice, deciding he liked how it sounded, before groaning aloud as he looked at the time and realised all his dallying in the corridors had made him late for Potions.
***
Kurt’s time this far in Hogwarts hadn’t been all he had dared to hope for before his transfer. He had had his fears, of course, arriving for his sixth year in a boarding school where everyone already knew each other, but he hadn’t expected to mess things up so quickly. It had admittedly been a relief at first to be sorted into Gryffindor, or more precisely to have avoided Slytherin; he knew himself to be capable of being manipulative when it suited him, so it had definitively been a possibility, and for all his tries at keeping an open mind he had still dreaded how they would react to the arrival of a half-blood - and a foreigner to boot - in their midst. He had avoided finding out, but in spite of Gryffindor’s reputation it seemed the lions weren’t too interested in making him feel welcome either; apparently, certain implicit rules weren’t to be broken if you wished to fit in.
The first of those rules was not to mess with Hudson and Puckerman, Gryffindor’s golden boys and star Chasers of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Well, Kurt reflected from his armchair in the common room where he was focusing on the book in his hands in order not to get blinded by the frankly alarming colour scheme, it wasn’t exactly his fault if their first meeting hadn’t gone well.
“I say, Hummel, what did you do to dumb and dumber? It’s been a while since I saw the two of them act ashamed, and considering you don’t have the ability to take their precious house points away it’s even more impressive. So what gives? Care to share your secret, French boy?”
Kurt raised his eyes from the very first page of his book, a bit startled to find himself so casually addressed. The girl standing next to his chair with her left hand on her hip seemed friendly enough, in spite of the slightly mocking smile she bore. He carefully pondered what he could possibly answer her.
“I’m not actually French - both my parents were born in Britain, although I believe I have some German ancestry somewhere in my family tree. That’s where my name comes from; Hummel is bumblebee in German.”
She blinked, obviously unsure what to do with this information.
“…right. That’s pretty ridiculous, though being named after a car I guess I can’t throw stones. I’m Mercedes Jones, by the way.”
She held her hand out as she talked, her gaze still direct and frank, and Kurt tentatively decided he liked her. Except for Sam, the blond guy from earlier, she was the first friendly face he had met yet.
“Do I call you Mercedes, or do you also swear by the out-dated custom of last names only?”
“Mercedes is fine, Kurt. Is that how you pissed off Puck and Hudson? Did you try to call them Finn and Noah?”
She was tenacious; Kurt had to give her that.
“I thought you said they were contrite rather than irate?” He deflected.
“For now, yeah, but righteous anger is the next step. They’re not exactly big fans of anything that make them look bad, you know?”
“I can guess.”
He smiled at her, one of his first sincere smiles in a while, and she was visibly startled by the sight. She finally dropped into one of the armchairs next to his, apparently resigning herself to continued ignorance about his first meeting with the two boys.
“So, what are you reading?” She asked instead, grimacing when he turned his book enough for her to read its title and immediately asking him whether he wasn’t secretly a Ravenclaw.
They kept exchanging barbs for a while, but the ambiance had changed; the quips they threw at each other were friendly banter rather than a wary battle of wits, and when they finally separated to get some sleep, Kurt was starting to feel slightly optimistic towards his coming years in his new school.
***
The next morning he was feeling much less optimistic, if only because his first sight as he woke was his roommates’ empty beds and the vacant space on his night table where his alarm clock was conspicuously missing. Apparently Mercedes had been right, and Puck’s and Hudson’s embarrassment had soon turned into resentment, which in turn manifested itself in juvenile pranks. He sighed and quickly cast a Tempus spell, thankful to see he hadn’t missed his first class, though breakfast was a no-go if he wanted to get to the greenhouses in time for Herbology.
He dressed quicker than he had ever had to in his life, barely taking the time to arrange his hair, and literally flew down the stairs, startling a few students playing cards in a corner of the common room.
He was almost in the Great Hall - he didn’t exactly know where he was going, but he figured heading outside first was probably the best plan - when he had to brutally stop his fast-paced walk to avoid running into a tall blond girl who had suddenly appeared in the corridor from behind - a tapestry? Hogwarts was weird. He had already opened his mouth to protest when two boys joined her a bit more carefully, one of them very recognisable.
“Kurt!” Sam exclaimed, a big smile immediately stretching his lips, and in spite of how much life seemed to suck right now Kurt couldn’t help but smile back at his genuine enthusiasm. “You weren’t at breakfast.”
“Um, no, I overslept. Speaking of which, could you please point me the direction to the greenhouses?”
“Herbology is your first class?” Kurt privately wondered, a bit acerbically, what else he could be studying there, but he outwardly just nodded.
“Then you’re with Brittany, she can show you there. Hopefully. And here-” Sam took a hold of one of the two muffins the boy by his side had been silently holding and expertly threw it to Kurt. “Don’t waste away before you have even tried all your classes.”
Kurt expected the boy who had just been robbed to protest, but instead he just threw a nice smile at Kurt, who wondered for a second just why he couldn’t have been put in Hufflepuff too, in spite of the abominable colour scheme.
“Those are blueberry, my favourite, hope you like them. And don’t worry, our common room is just besides the kitchens if I want more later. I’m Mike Chang, by the way.”
“Kurt Hummel, nice to meet you and, um, thanks for the muffin. I - we - should probably get going?” He made it a question, not wanting to seem rude but almost feeling the time ticking by.
“Oh yeah, you’re right! Brittany, d’you think you will find the way?” Even as the blond girl nodded, Kurt absently wondered which kind of person would find it difficult to get to class after five full years spent going there once a week.
“San’ is meeting me in the Hall and we’re going together.” The girl answered, grinning, and Kurt saw Sam suppress a smile of his own.
“Right, that’s perfect. Kurt, er, good luck with Santana and have a nice class, okay? We’ll probably see you at lunch.”
Kurt just had the time to nod to Sam and wave a little in answer to Mike’s goodbye before the two boys were back beneath the tapestry, having apparently only wished to accompany their friend; Kurt wondered, considering their recent exchange, if they had feared she would get lost.
***
Santana - or Lopez, as she’d introduced herself, though it was hard to remember when Brittany kept calling her by her first name - wasn’t exactly the sweet and helpful girl he had imagined when Brittany had first mentioned her. First of all, she was a Slytherin, admittedly a surprise; but more than that, she-
“So you’re the new lion everyone’s whispering about? The mane on your head certainly justifies what you’re doing in the house of Stupidity; I guess the only wonder is that your eyes haven’t been burnt by all the gold and red yet.”
-was quite caustic. Kurt blinked in surprise, even as his hand flew to his tragically untreated hair and patted it reassuringly, discreetly checking it wasn’t really that bad.
“If you take it this way, I guess your forked tongue was what got you into Slytherin?” He shot back, and it was Santana’s turn to look taken aback.
“But I don’t look anything like a badger.” Brittany’s mournful tone distracted them from what was promising to be a truly spectacular exchange of insults and Kurt watched in fascination as Santana’s face immediately went from shock to pure affection at the blond girl’s intervention.
“Not true Britt, I’m pretty sure your nose is just like a baby badger’s,” Santana answered, her voice still mocking but having pretty much lost its bite.
There was definitively something there, Kurt thought, and figured he had been just about proven right when the two girls pairing up to work on their Herbology project didn’t get them more than a few unsurprised glances from the rest of the students in spite of the contrasting colours of their ties.