
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/436388.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
       Glee
  Relationship:
      Kurt_Hummel/Sebastian_Smythe, Minor_or_Background_Relationship(s)
  Character:
      Kurt_Hummel, Sebastian_Smythe, Blaine_Anderson, David_Karofsky, Rachel
      Berry, Santana_Lopez
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_Hogwarts
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-06-01 Chapters: 3/5 Words: 15875
******  Strangeness and Charm ******
by daltoned
Summary
      [Hogwarts AU] Kurt Hummel never wanted to be a Slytherin--especially
     not when it landed him in the same house as Sebastian Smythe. 
***** Chapter 1 *****
"Stir six times, counter-clockwise..." Kurt muttered to himself as he scanned
through the instructions in his tattered potions textbook. "Add diced valerian
root and—" something flew past his face and landed with a thick-sounding
splatin his cauldron. "What the everliving fuck was that?" 

"Language, Mr. Hummel," Professor Schuester said idly as he trailed past his
workbench. "Please refrain from swearing in the classroom."

At that moment, Kurt's potion suddenly decided to take the opportunity to blow
up in his face, splattering him and various other classmates who had had the
misfortune to have their surnames come near Kurt's in the alphabet in thick,
putrid sludge. 

Professor Schuester wiped his face with the sleeve of his robe. "Five points
from Slytherin," he said, sounding tired. "Help him clean up here will you, Mr.
Smythe?"

Sebastian Smythe gave him a lazy smile. "Of course, Professor." He sauntered
out from behind his own desk—miraculously slime-free, Kurt noted—and grabbed
the bucket and rags from where they were stored next to the cupboard. He tossed
one to Kurt, smirking slightly as Kurt fumbled to catch it. "Surely you must be
on the Slytherin Quidditch team, with moves like that, Hummel."

"Sod off, Smythe." Kurt dropped the sodden rag onto his desk, drawing out his
wand and performing a levitating charm on the cauldron. "I don't need your
help."

"Teacher asked me to, babe." Sebastian spread his hands, face the picture of
innocent regret. "Now bare those pretty forearms of yours and let's get
cracking." 

Kurt gritted his teeth. "Fine. You do the floor; I'll do the bench." 

"You want me to get down on my hands and knees?" Sebastian smirked. "My, you
are a naughty boy, aren't you?"

"Shut your mouth before I hex you into next week," Kurt said, injecting as much
venom into his voice as he could manage. The effect probably sounded closer to
a cheesy Disney villain, but he didn't much care as long as it shut Sebastian
up for a few blessed seconds.

And a few blessed seconds was all he got, before Sebastian said, "You don't
need excuses to check out my arse, you know."

Kurt closed his eyes and prayed fervently to a God he didn’t believe in. "I
told you, Smythe. I wouldn't be interested in you if you were the last other
person alive on the planet."

Sebastian just chuckled delightedly, sitting back on his heels and looking at
Kurt with a wicked grin on his face. "You'd rather be a necrophiliac than fuck
me, then?"

Kurt rolled his eyes. "You are really quite immature, you know that?" 

"It's what makes me so loveable." Sebastian flicked his rag at Kurt's knees,
leaving a wet stain. "Don't deny it."

Kurt sneered at him, curling his lip and giving him his best snooty glare.
"It's hardly denying it if there's nothing to deny." 

Sebastian pressed a hand to his chest in mock-pain. Kurt noticed with pleasure
that he left a grimy smear on his crisp white shirt. "You wound me, Kurt. You
really do."

"You don't get to call me Kurt. Only my friends call me Kurt."

Sebastian gasped, smirking. "Are you insinuating that we are anything less than
BFFs for life?"

Kurt quirked an eyebrow before he could help it. "We are most certainly not
'BFFs', as you put it. Now hurry up before the bell goes—I don't want to be
late to Arithmancy."

"So smart," Sebastian sighed, wringing out his cloth and soaking it once
more—only to toss it at Kurt.

Kurt caught it and glared at Sebastian. "What are you, twelve?"

"Come on, Hummel, don't be such a stick-in-the-mud. Might as well have a little
fun." Sebastian waggled his eyebrows, a wicked glint in his grey eyes. 

Kurt wiped off the last few inches of the desk and dropped the cloth in the
bucket. It landed with a satisfying plop. "Are you finished yet?"

Sebastian stood up—as always, Kurt privately revelled in the fact that he was a
good inch taller than Sebastian—and wiped his hands on his robe. His green-and-
silver striped tie was loose, Kurt noticed. His fingers itched with the urge to
straighten it—and goddamn it, why couldn't Sebastian just dress tidilyfor
once—but he stuck them in his pockets instead. 

"I was wondering," Sebastian asked, his tone casual, "if you possibly wanted
some tutoring in Potions. I mean," he gestured at the workbench, "it looks like
you could do with it."

Kurt blinked at him, insulted. He shook his head in disbelief. "I don't need
help from you, thanks. Last time I checked you weren't any great shakes at
Potions either."

Sebastian’s eyes hardened, his voice becoming decidedly cool as he said, "At
least I don't blow mine up," before turning on his heel and marching back to
his own desk, where he collected his things with a wave of his wand

Kurt gaped after him. 
*


"I'm like ninety-five-percent certain that Brittany Pierce is going to ask me
out," Rachel said at dinner, dropping down into the seat next to Kurt. Her face
was flushed with excitement and her eyes were sparkling. 

Kurt frowned. "Who's she? I thought it was Quinn Fabray you were interested
in?"

"Hufflepuff, in my Charms class—she's the cutest thing ever, I swear. And Quinn
got herself a boyfriend, so." Rachel helped herself to his mashed potatoes, not
bothering to load up her own plate. He slapped her fork away and she pouted at
him. "What? I'm hungry."

"Get your own," Kurt said, pouring her some pumpkin juice. "This is mine. I
deserve it—I just had to suffer through an entire Potions class with
Sebastian."

Rachel snorted. "I still think you two should just get together and get it over
and done with."

Kurt gave her his best poisonous look. "You're such a traitor," he accused,
stabbing at his cabbage. "I support you through everything, and you suggest I
get together with Sebastian, of all people." His fork screeched on his plate as
he speared a particularly malevolent-looking cabbage leaf. "He is repulsive. He
repulses me. He's repulsive."

"So you've said," Rachel said dryly, stealing one of his sausages. "If he
annoys you so much, why do you talk to him?"

"I don't," Kurt insisted. "He talks to me. He won't leave me alone. He offered
to give me Potions tutoring, for Merlin's sake."

"Sounds like you've got yourself a creepy obsessive stalker," Rachel said
brightly. 

"Yay for me." Kurt prodded at the cabbage again. It lay there, limp and
unappetising on his plate. "You know what? I'm just going to go to the
library."

"I'll meet up with you later, then." Rachel leaned back to check the Hufflepuff
table. "Should I go and say hi, do you think? Or would that be weird?"

Kurt shrugged as he stood up. "You'll never know if you don't try," he said,
patting her on the shoulder before wandering off. 
*


"Hey, Kurt!"

Kurt very pointedly didn't look up from his Transfiguration essay as he said,
"I thought I asked you not to call me that?"

Sebastian shrugged as he flopped into the seat next to Kurt. "If you say so,
babe." 

Kurt resisted the urge to smack him over the head with one of the heavier books
in the stack next to him, if only for the book's sake. "Unless you've got
something useful to say, then sod off, will you?"

Sebastian just chuckled. "I was wondering if you could help me with my
Transfiguration essay?" he said, reaching into his bag and drawing out his own
scroll. "I was wondering if you knew anything about Gamp's Law of Elemental
Transfiguration."

Kurt frowned, setting aside his quill—carefully, so as to not drip ink on the
table. "Why are you asking me about it? I'm not even in your Transfigurations
class."

Sebastian smirked—Kurt fucking hated that smirk—and unrolled his own essay.
"But you're the best at Transfiguration, and you're all brainy." He reached out
and rapped on the side of Kurt's head before Kurt could smack his hand away. 

Kurt gave him a death glare.

"I might as well learn from the best," Sebastian said, shrugging. He reached
out and stole Kurt's quill, dipping it in the inkwell before turning to Kurt
with an expectant look. "Well?"

"Well what?" Kurt leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. "What makes you
think I'm going to help you?"

"You love me," Sebastian said confidently. "Now, you're meant to be helping me,
not gawping at me like a stupefied grindylow." He flicked his—Kurt's—quill and
Kurt winced as a couple of inksplots appeared on the parchment. 

He resisted the urge to perform a quick scourgify and instead tipped his chair
onto its back legs. "I don't love you. I hate you," he said, speaking as if to
a very slow, and very emotionally-stunted three-year-old. "Therefore, there is
very little chance that I'm going to help you write your Tranfiguration essay."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "But there's not no chance, is there?"

"Double negative." 

"What?"

"You just used a double negative. You should have said 'there is a chance', not
'there's not no chance'." Kurt felt his cheeks flush. "Um. Not that it really
matters. My point was that I'm not going to write your essay for you. Go find
somebody else to cheat off."

Sebastian looked insulted. "I'm not cheating," he said. "It's more like a study
group."

"A study group with two people." 

"Tutoring then, if you like." He shrugged. "You help me with Transfiguration;
I'll help you with Potions. It's a fair deal."

Kurt tugged Sebastian’s parchment towards him, scanning down it even as he
spoke, "I don't need help with Potions."

Sebastian grinned and propped his chin up on his hand. "Okay. If you say so."

"I say so. And I'm not helping you cheat on this essay, by the way. I just
can't allow an essay this terrible to go uncorrected."

"It's not terrible," Sebastian said, a crease appearing between his eyes and
his mouth pulling down at the corners. "It's imaginative."

"It's terrible," Kurt corrected, "and written in bright green ink." He held out
his hand for his quill, wrinkling his nose slightly when Sebastian managed to
drip even more ink on the table. "Did you even read page sixty-one of Elemental
Transfiguration?" 

Sebastian raised his eyebrows, pursing his lips. Kurt's eyes flicked down to
them, looking away in haste as soon as he realised what he was doing, heat
prickling the back of his neck. 

"I'm sure I did, but refresh my memory, will you?" Sebastian sounded lazily
amused, Kurt thought, as if was merely toying with Kurt—a snake with a baby
vole. 

Kurt had to stifle a groan. "I can't believe this. How haven't you been kicked
out of Transfiguration class yet?"

"I have a very charming personality," Sebastian said, smile smug. "It's
surprisingly handy."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Okay," he said, dipping his quill in the inkwell and
explaining as he wrote, "Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration is to do with
how magic can create or destroy matter. There are five principle exceptions to
this law—food and love being the two most important."

"But food is created every day." Sebastian leaned back in his chair, flipping a
galleon between his fingers. Kurt had to resist the urge to knock it out of his
hands—such a flamboyant display of wealth was hardly needed; everybody knew
that Sebastian had money. "It appears on our plates every meal time."

Kurt shook his head. "The house-elves make the food and it's summoned to the
Great Hall," he said. "Food can be moved from one place to another by magic and
can be transfigured into different food, but it can't be created out of thin
air."

"What about love potions? They create love." Sebastian tipped his head to one
side and looked at Kurt with darkened green eyes, his expression unreadable.

Kurt shifted uncomfortably in his chair, hyper-aware that he was doing
something he swore to never do in any shape or form—helping Sebastian Smythe.
"It's not real love." He pulled Elemental Transfiguration towards him and
flipped through it to page sixty-one, running a finger down the page until he
got to the part on love charms and potions. "Here, it says that the semblance
of love can be created through various love charms, potions and, on occasion,
the Imperius Curse, but it is never true love despite what the victim might
believe—it is merely an obsessive, lustful infatuation." He pushed the book
towards Sebastian. "Here; you read it for yourself." He smirked, and added,
"And maybe you'll actually learn something for once."

"I learn plenty of things," Sebastian said, giving the paragraph a cursory
glance, "just maybe not the sort of things you'd want to hear about."

Kurt snorted derisively. "What, different ways to cheat first years out of
their pocket money? I'm happy with my own, guilty-free, penniless state,
thanks."

"I don't cheatthem out of their pocket money," Sebastian said, sounding like he
couldn't really quite dredge up the energy to be indignant about it. "It's
their own stupid fault for agreeing to play chess with me." He waved a lazy
hand. "They were hardly going to be able to do anything with it, anyway. Why
their parents sent them to school with it burning a hole in their pockets I'll
never know."

Kurt tapped the book in front of Sebastian. "Back on track. Read me the next
paragraph."

Sebastian’s eyebrows leapt up his face. "Oh, I do like it when you get bossy,
babe." 

"Read it. And call me babe one more time and I'll stick your wand where the sun
doesn't shine."

"Like it rough, do you?" Sebastian sounded delighted; he merely smirked when
Kurt gave him his best 'I'll-hex-you-within-an-inch-of-your-life-unless-you-do-
as-I-say' glare. "Fine, fine. Why I have to read this when you already know it,
I haven't the slightest—"

"Do you want my help or not?" Kurt's left eye twitched, involuntarily. 

"If you hadn't interrupted me, I was coming to it—"

"And if you didn't keep screwing around then maybe this would be finished
already so I could get back to my own—"

"I'm not screwing around!" Sebastian’s back was stiff, his eyes black ice. "I
should have known better than to ask you for help, Hummel—I might as well have
just read the entire set reading list—"

"Maybe you should have done—then I wouldn't be wasting my time trying to teach
something to an imbecile who simply can't be arsed with actually trying to do
something for once in his goddamned life because he's too rat-arse lazy to
actually put what little brainpower he has to achieving something other than
fraud!" 

Silence.

Kurt's words rang impossibly loud in the domed space; around them, students
were staring at them with wide eyes. A tiny Hufflepuff first year looked on the
verge of tears and the sixth-year librarian was red in the face and possibly
about to explode.

"Well, then," Sebastian said, in a voice that was entirely too controlled and
calm, "if that's what you think, then we're clearly wasting our time here." He
ripped his parchment out of Kurt's grip, stuffing it into his bag and stalking
off.

Kurt sat there, frozen to his chair. When he finally managed to look down, his
hand had smeared ink all over the table and on his previously-clean cuff. 

He got to his feet, not bothering to stack the books neatly as he usually did,
swept his things into his bag before leaving the library, carefully avoiding
the eyes of the rest of the students. 
*


"I heard that you and Sebastian had a fight in the library yesterday," Rachel
said casually as she tossed her bag onto the table next to Kurt at breakfast.
She swung her legs over the bench and sat down, helping herself to his toast.

"Yeah, well, it's the talk of the school, apparently." Kurt pushed a bowl of
fruit salad towards her and ignored her squawk of protest as he stole his toast
back.

"I was eating that." She gave the fruit salad a baleful glare. "And I'm not
eating salad for breakfast. Pass me the bacon, will you?"

Kurt rolled his eyes. "I can’t believe you actually likethe vegan version of
bacon," he said her, even as he passed the platter of bacon over.

Rachel shrugged. "At least I’m not killing poor defenceless animals just to
satiate my own urges," she said as she forked crispy rashers onto her plate and
doused them liberally in brown sauce.

Kurt wrinkled his nose. "That's disgusting, you know that?"

"So's the fact that I had to hear about this argument of yours through my
potential girlfriend." She shook her head, finishing her mouthful before
continuing, "I mean, she's not even in the same House. Can you imagine how
embarrassing it was when I didn't know about this event in my best friend's
love-life?"

"I don't think it counts as a love life when both people involved hate each
other's guts," Kurt said dryly, refreshing his pumpkin juice. "Juice?"

Rachel shook her head, chestnut curls bouncing everywhere as she did so. "My
point is, why didn't you tell me about what happened with Sebastian?"

She fixed him with an intent brown-eyed stare.

Kurt took a sip of his pumpkin juice, buying time.

Rachel was still staring at him. Damn it.

"It just didn't occur to me," he said finally. It wasn't all that far from the
truth; when he'd returned to the Slytherin common room he'd had little in mind
other than going to bed and pretending Sebastian didn't exist. Needless to say,
that hadn't worked all that well; he'd spent the entirety of the night
replaying the argument in his head and becoming gradually more convinced that
Sebastian was an even bigger dick than he had thought originally.

"Sebastian isn't a dick," Rachel said.

Kurt choked on his pumpkin juice. "Don'tdo that," he complaining, wiping his
chin with a napkin.

"Do what?" Rachel widened her eyes innocently.

Kurt waved a hand in the air, making a face. "Know exactly what I'm thinking,"
he said, when her expression remained blank. "It's creepy."

Rachel shrugged and patted him on the shoulder. "Don't worry, I won't tell
anyone about all the filthy things you'd love to do to a certain prefect."

"I don't think about that sort of thing!" Kurt protested in a heated tone. "And
certainly not about Sebastian. He—"

"Repulses you, yes, I know." Rachel sighed and propped her chin up on her hand,
gazing off into the distance. "The amazing sex you two would have..."

Kurt felt mildly nauseous at the very thought of it. "Please stop," he groaned,
sinking down in his seat and wishing he could simply Obliviate both himself and
Rachel and forget that they ever had this conversation. "I think I'm going to
puke."

Rachel glared at him. "Ruin my fantasies, why don't you."

"You don't even like guys," Kurt said exasperatedly, "where do you get off on
this?" He slapped a hand over her mouth before she could answer. "Actually, no,
don't answer that. I've decided that I don't want to know."

"Your loss." She shrugged.

Kurt nodded and got to his feet, hefting his bag over his shoulder. "I'm going
to head off to go pick up a book from the library, 'kay?" He patted her on the
head. "See you in Charms."

"Sure thing." Rachel was already decanting Kurt's left-over food onto her own
plate, drowning the lot in brown sauce before digging in with relish.

Kurt was walking out of the Great Hall when he collided with Sebastian. Wind-
milling his arms as he lost his balance, he came crashing down onto the hard
stone floor, his bag splitting open and all of his books and papers falling
out. He heard a sickening crunch as he landed on something round and hard; when
he sat up, his ink pot was smashed into bits, black ink leaking out across the
flagstones and staining his hands and clothes.

Sebastian helped him up with wide green eyes. "Sorry." He toed at Kurt's broken
ink pot, eyebrows raised and biting down on his full lower lip. "I don't think
that can be resuscitated, I'm afraid. I can lend you one of mine, if you like—"

"I don't need your help, thanks," Kurt said. He could hear the coolness in his
own voice; the dangerous creaking of thin ice just before it cracks open and
sends the unsuspecting skater into freezing black depths. 

Sebastian frowned. He obviously didn't hear the frost in Kurt's tone—or did and
was simply ignoring it—because he knelt down to start gathering up Kurt's
books. "I'll just get these for you, then." 

"I think you've done enough, thank you very much." Kurt carefully didn't touch
Sebastian as he crouched down and examined the seam of his bag. 

"Can you fix it?"

Kurt gave him a desultory stare. "Of course I can." He took out his wand from
his pocket, careful not to smudge ink along the polished beech wood, and
pointed it at the split seam. "Reparo." 

The stitching wriggled back into position, lacing the two parts of the bag
together once more. Kurt slung it over his shoulder and took the books and
papers from Sebastian, groaning internally when he saw the blotchy ink stains
spreading across the pages like arterial blood. "Thank you," he said
reluctantly, giving Sebastian a nod and starting to turn away.

"Wait, Kurt—"

Kurt turned back to Sebastian and raised what he assumed to be a sufficiently
cool eyebrow. "What?"

Sebastian bit down on his lower lip again, worrying it between his teeth. "I'm
sorry for walking into you," he said, after a long pause in which Kurt nearly
walked away, manners be damned. "I wasn't looking where I was going and that
was my fault."

"Too right it was." Kurt glared at him. "Now, if you don't mind, I need to go
back to the dungeons to get changed." 

And with that, he turned on his heel—careful not to slip in the pool of ink
that he had pointedly left Sebastian to clear up—and marched off.
*


"Hey, Hummel."

Kurt turned around, raising an eyebrow coolly as he looked down his nose at the
three sixth-year boys standing at the bottom of the stairs. "Yes?" 

"We don’t like fags in our House, you know,” Dave Karofsky said, leering and
folding his bulky arms across his chest. His Slytherin tie hung loose around
his neck. Behind him, his two friends glowered at Kurt and flexed their biceps,
their shaved heads gleaming slightly in the light from the gas-lamps. 

"Very nice for you, I’m sure," Kurt said, trying to keep his voice mild even as
his pulse started to jump at the base of his throat. "Now, if you don't mind, I
need to go get changed." He gestured to his front with ink-stained hands,
forcing a wry tone into his voice as he continued, "Had a bit of an accident
with an ink bottle."

The boy that had spoken looked slightly wrong-footed, but as Kurt turned on his
heel and continued up the stairs he found his tongue again and called, "Where
do you think you're going? We're not finished with you quite yet."

Kurt's shoulders stiffened. He turned around again—slowly, this time—and
slipped a hand inside his robes to grip the smooth wood of his wand. "I know a
particularly good Bat-Bogey Hex, just so you know," he said, adopting a
conversational tone. "I'm sure the teachers will be sympathetic when I tell
them that it was in self-defence."

"You won't be telling the teachers anything," one of the other two goons said,
cracking a wide smile that sent shivers down Kurt’s spine. 

Kurt swallowed. "Physical fighting isn't allowed at Hogwarts." His voice
sounded weak to his own ears. "You'll get in trouble."

"We'll 'get in trouble', will we?" the shortest boy mocked, cocking his head on
one side and narrowing his eyes at Kurt. "Like Karofsky said, you won't be
telling the teachers anything."

Kurt's wand felt slippery in his hand. He readjusted his grip on it, wondering
if he should simply hurl a hex and run. "And how are you going to stop me?" 

Karofsky leered. "Your little friend is very pretty," he said, malicious
delight inherent in his voice. "It'd be a shame to ruin that pretty face of
hers." 

Kurt's stomach clenched, his breath catching in his throat and his mouth
suddenly as dry as if he had been licking sandpaper. "If you hurt her I'll—"

"You'll what?" the third goon, who had until then remained silent. Kurt
recognised him as Rick Nelson, one of the Slytherin beaters. 

Kurt opened his mouth to reply with a suitably cutting retort, but found
himself coming up short. He closed his mouth again. 

Azimio smirked, taking the steps two at a time until he came to stand almost
nose-to-nose with Kurt. "Exactly. Nothing."

Kurt barely had time to register that Azimio was moving before a fist struck
him right in the face, snapping his head to one side; his vertebrae creaked and
his cheek throbbed. He could taste blood where he'd bitten the inside of his
cheek; an iron tang that caught at the back of his throat and made him want to
gag. 

"What the bloody fuck do you think you're doing?" a familiar voice demanded
from behind Kurt. A hand landed on his shoulder, broad fingers digging in just
this side of painful. "Get away from him before I hex you into next week."

Kurt gritted his teeth. "I don't need your protection, Sebastian," he said
shortly. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"Of course you are, babe," Sebastian said, tone deceptively lazy. "That would
explain the lovely shiner you're going to have there in a few days."

Kurt raised a hand to it self-consciously, wincing as he pressed a little too
hard. "It was a misunderstanding."

Sebastian looked mildly irritated. "You really are the stubbornest bastard I've
ever had the misfortune to meet, I hope you realise."

"Glad to be of help," Kurt said, glaring. He stowed his wand back inside his
robes and narrowed his eyes at Azimio and his friends. 

Sebastian turned to them too. "Fuck off," he said—quite eloquently, Kurt
thought. 

Azimio took a step forward, seeming as if he was going to attempt to hit
Sebastian too, but Sebastian planted a hand in the middle of Azimio's chest
and, with a slight shove, sent Azimio sprawling head over heels down the
stairs. Kurt winced at the sick-sounding thud that Azimio's head made on impact
with the stone wall at the bottom. 

"Fuck off," Sebastian repeated, "and this time for real." He turned to Kurt and
raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"What?" Kurt asked, defensive. 

Sebastian’s lips twitched in amusement. "You've got ink all over you," he said,
by way of explanation.

"I'd noticed." Kurt straightened his robes, grimacing at a rip in his sleeve.
"Be seeing you, then."

Sebastian reached out and grabbed his shoulder again, although his grip was
gentler this time around. "Where do you think you're going?"

Kurt held up his hands, which were no less inkstained than they had been when
Sebastian had commented on it. "To clean up, surprisingly enough." 

Sebastian frowned, letting go of Kurt's shoulder but taking a step closer and
peering at his cheek instead. "You need to get some ice on that," he said, his
voice surprisingly soft and intimate. "You might manage to stop the worst of
the bruising." He grinned, then, and added, "Don't want to spoil that pretty
face of yours."

Kurt rolled his eyes and stepped away, picking up his bag from where it had
fallen on the floor when Azimio had pushed him over. "Shut up. Why were you
following me, anyway?"

Sebastian’s eyebrows leapt up, his forehead crinkling in surprise. "You think I
was following you?"

"And you weren't?" Kurt challenged, folding his arms across his chest. 

"No." Sebastian frowned. "If I had been, do you really think that I would have
left it that late to intervene?"

Anger stirred in Kurt's gut. "I didn't need you to intervene in the first
place," he said waspishly, giving Sebastian a poisonous glare. "Like I said, I
had it all under control."

Sebastian took a step forward again, backing Kurt up against the wall. The
light from the gas lamps lit his face harshly and highlighted his hair like a
furious halo. He jabbed a finger at Kurt's chest, his voice low and fierce as
he said, "When will you bloody learn to accept help when people offer it? Would
it kill you to say thank you once in a while?"

Kurt tried to pull away, but Sebastian grabbed his shoulders to keep him in
place, fingers digging bruises into Kurt's flesh. Kurt swallowed, instinctively
pressing himself back against the wall. Sebastian’s face was mere inches from
his own, his chest heaving with what seemed to be pent-up frustration as he
pushed forward, even closer to Kurt.

"Probably," he said, for want of something better to say, distracted by the
tight grip Sebastian had on his biceps.

Sebastian made a low growling sound in the back of his throat, his expression
conflicted. He flexed his fingers around Kurt's arms, tightening his grip even
as he pulled away slightly. His eyes were dark in the half-light, his
cheekbones gilded with liquid fire and his lips slightly parted.

Kurt opened his mouth to say something, but then Sebastian was kissing him, hot
and heavy, pressed up against Kurt and his large hands curled around Kurt's
biceps as he hungrily pressed his mouth to Kurt's and—

Kurt wrenched himself away, mind reeling. He stared at Sebastian in shock.
"What the fuck?" he demanded, hand flying to his tingling lips. "What the
actual fuck was that?" 

Sebastian looked shell-shocked—his mouth hung open slightly, his cheeks were
flushed and his hair was mussed. He shook his head, holding his hands up in a
defensive motion. "I...I don't know," he said, wide-eyed. "Sorry."

"I can't believe you just did that," Kurt said, crossing his arms and glaring
at Sebastian. "I thought you were better than that. I don't know why, seeing as
you repulse me in every other matter and I wouldn't put it past you to kiss a
thestral on a dare—"

"What, you think that that was a dare?" Sebastian demanded, waving his hands
abstractly as if trying to indicate what had happened a moment ago. "You really
think that I would kiss you because some prick dared me to?"

"It's the only logical reason, by process of elimination," Kurt said stiffly,
hyper-aware of the heat in his cheeks and the memory of Sebastian’s lips on
his.  

Sebastian stared at him for a moment, mouth still hanging open slightly. Kurt
sort of wanted to—no, he didn't. He hated Sebastian. Sebastian was repulsive.
Kurt would just as soon make out with a...hippo, or something. Yes, a hippo.
Provided it didn't eat him first.

Sebastian shook his head. "I'll see you in Potions," he said, his voice flat as
he turned and walked away, shoulders hunched. 

Kurt watched him go, a sinking feeling in his stomach and his heart thumping at
the base of his throat. He touched his fingers to his lips and sighed, turning
around and making his way in the opposite direction to the way Sebastian had
gone. 
***** Strangeness and Charm *****
Chapter Summary
     [Hogwarts AU] Kurt Hummel never wanted to be a Slytherin--especially
     not when it landed him in the same house as Sebastian Smythe.
"What took you so long?" Rachel whispered to Kurt as he slipped into the seat
next to her in Charms. "Was the book really that good?" She did a double-take
when she saw his ink-stained hands. He'd exchanged his ruined shirt and robes
for clean ones, but he hadn't had the time to scrub his hands clean, already
being ten minutes late for Charms.
"Ink bottle broke," Kurt muttered out of the side of his mouth as he took out
his ink-splattered books and flipped to the right page. "Had to go get
changed."
Rachel raised her eyebrows and passed him a fresh sheet of parchment. "That I
can see," she said, "but the Kurt I know would hardly just slip over in the
hallway."
Kurt shrugged. "Just having a clumsy day, I guess," he said in a low voice,
bending his head over the page as he copied out the date and title. "What have
I missed?"
Rachel launched into an explanation of the past fifteen minutes in an excited
whisper as Kurt fiddled with his quill and made vague sounds of agreement, not
really listening to her and instead thinking about the kiss in the hallway, his
cheeks heating up slightly at the memory. Vaguely, he realised that his name
was being called; he looked up to see the teacher glaring at him, his arms
folded and a definite down-turn to his mouth.
"If you would like to join us any time today, Mr Hummel, that would be
pleasant," Professor Hemmingway said, his tone disapproving.
Kurt swallowed. "Sorry," he said, ducking his head and trying to avoid the
curious stares of his classmates. "I…could you repeat the question?"
"I was wondering if you could explain to me the root of the spell we are using
today."
Kurt flicked a glance sideways at Rachel's parchment, hoping to find
inspiration there, but her page was filled with miniscule, cramped handwriting
that he couldn't read from where he was sat. "Um...I'm afraid I don't know,
sir," he said after a moment of awkward silence.
Professor Hemmingway raised an eyebrow. "Curious, seeing as I just explained it
in great detail to the rest of the class. Pray, tell us what was so important
that it occupied your mind whilst you should have been paying attention to me?"
Kurt's face felt like he'd stuck it in a fire. He was pretty certain his
eyebrows would burn off if he blushed any harder. "Nothing, sir. Just tired."
Professor Hemmingway's other eyebrow joined the first. He inclined his head to
Rachel. "Miss Berry? Were you listening?"
Kurt dropped his head into his hands as Rachel answered, wishing he could just
sink under the table and never emerge. He gave Rachel a wan smile when she
kicked his shin, but shook his head when she raised her eyebrows questioningly.
The rest of the lesson passed in a bit of a blur, Rachel nudging her parchment
over to Kurt so he could copy, and simply staring at the table in between
writing down notes.
When the lesson ended, Rachel grabbed his arm—Kurt was vividly reminded of when
Sebastian had gripped him in the same place earlier—and dragged him out of the
classroom, her mouth set in a firm line. She pulled him into an empty classroom
and leaned back against the door, her expression serious and her arms folded.
"So," she said, "what's wrong?"
Kurt put on his blankest face. "What do you mean?"
"You're never late to lessons, Kurt," she snapped, her dark eyes flashing. She
pushed her hair back from her face and gave him a measured look. "You came in
late, covered in ink, and then didn't pay attention all lesson—that's not
normal behaviour, you know."
Kurt shrugged. "Everybody has bad days, Rachel."
"You don't."
He shrugged again and tried for a smile. "High time I had one then, isn't it?"
Rachel shook her head and took a step forward, looking up at him with an
unhappy twist to her lips. "You used to tell me things, you know that. I
tell you everything."
There was a crack in the floor near Kurt's foot. He traced it with the tip of
his shoe and didn't answer.
"Kurt."
He was unprepared to see the hurt in her eyes when he looked up. "It's not
you," he said, trying to put as much earnestness into his voice as he could.
"It's just...complicated."
"Right." Rachel pressed her lips together until they were a white line striped
across her face, and shook her head. "You will tell me eventually, right?"
Kurt nodded and reached out to tug on a stray chestnut curl, smiling slightly
when she smacked his hand away with a glare. "I will. I promise." He hitched
his bag further up on his shoulder, and shrugged. "It's just not something I
can talk about right now."
Rachel suddenly looked worried. "You're not—you're safe, right? You're not—?"
"I'm not hurting myself." He shook his head. "It's nothing like that. I’m not
in trouble, either."
She narrowed her eyes. "Is it to do with Sebastian?"
Kurt gaped at her. "No," he insisted. "What makes you think that?"
She smirked. "Oh, nothing."
He narrowed his eyes. "It's nothing to do with Sebastian," he said forcefully.
"Nothing."
Rachel smiled then, sudden and bright as a lightbulb in a darkened room. "Okay,
if you say so." She pulled open the door and wandered out into the corridor,
saying brightly, "Well, it's really quite a good thing that it isn't to do with
Sebastian, seeing as you have double Potions with him next."
  Fuck.      He'd forgotten about that. Kurt swallowed and trailed after her,
mind whirring with possible ways of avoiding having to even look at Sebastian
for the entire duration of the lesson.

He was screwed.
                                       *
Kurt very pointedly didn't look across at Sebastian’s workstation when he
entered the Potions dungeon. He only looked across at Sebastian’s workstation
when five minutes of the lesson had passed and he had yet to hear a snarky
comment from that particular corner of the classroom.
Sebastian’s workstation was empty. The worktop was clear, the cauldron out of
sight and—most importantly—Sebastian himself wasn't there. Kurt frowned and
tried to remember if he had ever before seen Sebastian miss a Potions lesson.
He came up short.
On his way over to the stock cupboard to pick up some more salamander blood, he
paused by Blaine's workstation. Blaine was a dark-headed Hufflepuff with an
even temper and a warm personality that meant he was friends with practically
everybody and knew everything that went on in Hogwarts. Kurt privately
considered him a gossip on par with Rachel, although he'd never say as much to
either of them for fear of having his ear hexed off.
Blaine gave him a toothy grin when Kurt leaned against the side of the table.
"Hey, Kurt," he said, tone ever-cheerful. "What can I do for you?"
Kurt shrugged. "I just noticed that Sebastian wasn't here today and was
wondering what's up with him."
Blaine picked up his knife and started to dice his ginger root. "Well, Santana
said that he's not been in lessons the entire afternoon." He flicked a bit of
dirt from his cuff and gave Kurt an apologetic shrug. "I assumed he was just
ill." He frowned. "Though I've never known him to be ill before. He's one of
the healthiest people I know."
"Must have eaten something that disagreed with him," Kurt said, biting his lip.
"Um, thanks, Blaine."
Blaine waved the knife at him cheerily. "No problem. Why were you asking?"
Kurt forced a laugh, although laughing felt like the last thing he wanted to
do. "Oh, I was just wondering why he'd decided against gracing us with his
presence this afternoon."
"I'll let Santana know to tell him that you were asking after him," Blaine
agreed.
Kurt frowned. "Who's Santana?"
Blaine gave him a strange look. "His cousin. They're practically brother and
sister."
"Oh," was all Kurt said. "I didn't know that."
"That’s probably because you don’t really talk to the rest of your house, to be
honest,” Blaine said, his voice mild. “Not everybody in Slytherin is evil, you
know.”
Kurt raised an eyebrow. “I know that. I’m friends with Rachel, after all.”
“And who else?” Blaine leaned against his workstation, hazel eyes warm and
irritatingly sympathetic. “You can’t ignore your entire house forever, you
know.”
Kurt didn't respond to that. He just waved an absent hand in Blaine's general
direction before heading over to the stocks cupboard to get his salamander
blood.
It wasn't until he'd returned to his workstation that he realised he'd picked
up leech juice instead.
                                       *
Rachel settled into the seat next to Kurt at dinner with a frown on her face.
Kurt gave her a curious look, quirking an eyebrow as he forked a floret of
broccoli into his mouth. "What's wrong?" he asked, as soon as he'd finished his
mouthful.
Rachel scowled at her own plate, not reaching for any food. "Brittany still
hasn't asked me out," she said in a small voice, face downcast. "I was sure she
was going to."
Kurt made a face. "Well, she might not have had time yet," he pointed out,
keeping a reasonable tone to his voice.
"I've spoken to her twice," she replied, sounding aggrieved, "and I had Ancient
Runes with her just now."
"A Hufflepuff's taking Ancient Runes?"
Rachel hit him. "Don't be so racist."
"How am I being racist?"
Rachel stole his glass of water and sipped, a mulish expression on her petite
features. "Hufflepuffs are just as smart as anybody else."
Kurt snorted. "Sure. Weren’t you saying something the other day about how she
thinks I’m a unicorn?"
Rachel shot him a venomous look. "See, this is why you still don't have a
date," she said, slamming his glass down on the table forcefully enough for
water to splash out over the rim and onto the white cotton tablecloth. "You're
just too much of a bitch for anybody to want to ask you out."
Kurt blinked at her. "Okay, so maybe this isn't the best time to discuss the
intellectuality of Hufflepuffs," he said slowly, laying down his knife and
fork.
"No shit." She pursed her lips, a pink blush starting to form high on her
cheeks. She looked away, expression suddenly regretful. "Sorry, that was
harsh."
"It's okay," Kurt said, albeit warily. "We all have our bad days."
Rachel nodded, giving him a slight smile. "That reminds me—I heard through the
grapevine that Sebastian hasn't been in lessons all afternoon." She raised her
eyebrows, leaning forward to help herself to a baked potato. "You wouldn't
happen to know anything about that, would you?"
Kurt choked on his broccoli. He hastily finished off what was left of the water
in his glass. "No. Of course not." He poured himself some more water, not
looking Rachel in the eye. He was sure that, if he were to look at her
properly, she would see the lie in his face.
Apparently she had mystical lie-detecting powers even without eye
contact—although Kurt suspected that was called 'being a girl'—for she poked
him hard in the ribs. "Tell," she demanded. "I know you know something about
it. You have that look on your face."
"What look?"
"That look where you look all shifty and start doing something else other than
look at me." She slathered butter all over her baked potato, watching in
satisfaction as it melted and dripped all over her salad. "You've been hiding
something all afternoon, actually."
  Damn.      He really needed to get new avoidance techniques. He shrugged,
aiming for evasive instead. "I ran into Sebastian after lunch, that was all. He
broke my ink bottle."

Rachel gave him a sideways glance. "You sure that's all that happened?"

Kurt paused. Should he lie here and avoid the interrogation that was sure to
happen, or tell the truth and get it over with? "I'm sure," he said finally.

Rachel gave him a disappointed look. "If you say so," she said, stabbing at her
baked potato with her fork.

"I say so," Kurt said firmly, giving his rather limp broccoli another half-
hearted prod before getting to his feet and shouldering his bag. "I'm just
going to head off to the library, 'kay?"

Rachel nodded, not looking at him, and pulled out a book from her bag.

He looked at her bowed dark head and felt a cold, hard knot settle in his
stomach, although he couldn't identify which emotion that placed it there. He
reached out to pat her on the head then thought better of it, instead picking
up a slice of bread from the breadbasket and nodding at some third years across
the table before trudging off towards the doors leading to the main hall.

He tore strips from the slice of bread as he walked, taking the side stairs up
to the library on the fourth floor. It tasted sour in his mouth, but he
swallowed it down, making a face as he did so.

The library was practically empty when he slipped in through a side-door, most
students down in the Great Hall at dinner. He made a beeline for his usual
table by a window, but was brought to a halt when he saw two people already
sitting there, heads bent together over a large book. The girl looked up, her
brown eyes widening when she saw him. Kurt vaguely recognised her as one of the
sixth-year Slytherin prefect, the silver badge on her green-and-grey tie
cementing that fact. She elbowed the boy, hissing something in an urgent
undertone that made the boy look up and stare at Kurt with guarded eyes.
"Hello, Kurt," Sebastian said, his tone carefully neutral. He was pale, dark
bags beneath his eyes and five o'clock shadow on his jaw.

"Um." Kurt blinked. "Uh...hi?"

"Wow, I completely understand why you like him," the girl said, arching an
elegant eyebrow. "You were always one for witty conversation."

Sebastian didn't take his eyes off Kurt, although he coloured slightly. "Shut
up, Santana."

"Just pointing out a fact," she said, rolling her eyes and picking up the tome
they'd been poring over, struggling to tuck it under her arm as she got up from
the table. "I’ll go, then?”

It took Kurt a moment to realise that that would effectively leave Sebastian
and himself alone, but he had barely opened his mouth to protest when he saw
the hunted look in Sebastian’s eyes and closed it again. "Sure," he heard
himself saying instead, his mouth seeming to move of its own accord.

Sebastian looked at him with a wary expression, his face closed and as
shuttered as the windows of a cottage preparing for a snowstorm. Kurt swallowed
and moved forward to take the seat that Santana had vacated, settling down and
dropping his bag by his feet. "I owe you an apology," he said, his mouth
suddenly dry and his heart fluttering like a trapped moth inside a glass jam-
jar. "I acted like a dick and I shouldn't have done."

Sebastian didn't say anything. He had his arms folded across his chest, leaning
back in his chair as if trying to move himself as far away from Kurt as he
could. Kurt ignored the pang of hurt this sent through him and ploughed on,
fixing his eyes on a particularly interesting knot of wood on the table-top. He
traced it with his finger, his nail scraping against the slightly-sticky
varnish. "I should have given you the chance to explain yourself," he said, his
cheeks warming slightly at the memory of how he'd simply turned tail and fled.
He looked up, hoping against hope that Sebastian wasn't going to just laugh in
his face and swagger off like he half-expected him to do.

Sebastian stared back at him, his expression still as wary as before.

Kurt swallowed nervously, licking his lips. He didn't miss how Sebastian’s eyes
flickered down to track the movement before snapping up to meet his eyes again.
Kurt shrugged, gripping the edge of the table and spreading his fingers across
the top, resisting the urge to tap his fingers impatiently. "This is your
chance to explain," he said lamely, looking down again. The knot of wood was
really quite fascinating, he decided. It deserved his full attention.

Sebastian’s voice was low and rough when he spoke. "What makes you think I want
to explain?"

Kurt paused, momentarily thrown. "I...I don't know," he admitted, cursing his
conscience for ever suggesting that it would be a good idea to sit down and try
to talk this out with Sebastian.

"Well, I don't," Sebastian said, still looking at Kurt with an intent look in
his sharp green eyes. "I've already told you everything I want to."

Kurt snorted, feeling irritation coil, lazy and unpredictable in his belly.
"Enough with the enigmatic bullshit, Sebastian. I'm giving you a chance here."

"How generous of you," Sebastian drawled, his customary smirk sliding back into
place. "I don't know how you get by when you give out so much to any poor
bastard that doesn't even ask for it."

"Fuck this." Kurt got to his feet again, hefting his bag over his shoulder and
glaring at Sebastian. "I was going to offer to help you with Transfiguration
again, but I'm glad I didn't get that far because I honestly think I would have
ended up killing you before the end of the first session."

"Nice to know we're back to death threats," Sebastian said idly, a glint in his
eyes. "It quite honestly creeps me out when you're all caring and sharing."

"I don't do caring and sharing. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to go and get
some actual studying done rather than wasting my breath on you."

Sebastian’s eyebrow quirked. "A waste of time, am I? Nice to know what you
really think, babe."

"Fuck you," Kurt said automatically.

Sebastian paused, clearly remembering the kiss in the hallway. Kurt knew his
own cheeks were a furious shade of red. "Well," Sebastian said slowly,
"I would take you up on that offer if it wasn't for the fact that I'm pretty
sure you believe that I'm a liar."

Kurt didn't know what to say to that. "I never said you were a liar," he said,
when the silence got too much to bear. "I just don't trust you."

"You don't trust me?" Sebastian looked and sounded genuinely surprised and hurt
by that. "What do you think I'd do—murder you in your sleep?"

Kurt narrowed his eyes. "What proof have you ever given me that you wouldn't do
so at the first opportunity you got?"

Sebastian stared at him, his mouth hanging open slightly. Kurt tried not to
think about the way that full mouth had felt against his own and failed
miserably. "You really think that little of me?" he said, his voice bereft of
its usual teasing lilt.

"You're a Slytherin."

"So are you.” Sebastian shook his head. "Since when have I ever done something
to you to merit this hatred?"

"Other than torment me for the last five years of my life?" Kurt shot back.
"You exploded my potion only the other day."

Sebastian’s eyebrows leapt up his forehead. "You think I did that on purpose?"

"You threw something into it—of course you did it on purpose." Kurt knew he
sounded sulky, but he couldn't quite bring himself to care.

"I was passing you a note!" Sebastian protested, sitting up straight and giving
Kurt a beseeching look. "I just missed."

"Oh?" Kurt folded his arms, deliberately schooling his expression into one
suitable cold and stony. "And what did this note say?"

Quite astonishingly, Sebastian blushed and looked down. "It was asking you if
you wanted to study with me after dinner," he said, sounding as if this was
something to be terribly embarrassed about.

Kurt frowned, confused. "Why?"

Sebastian chewed on his lower lip, teeth bruising the soft pink flesh. "I
wanted to get to know you," he muttered, his ears turning a rather fetching
shade of red. "All we ever seem to do is argue."

"Because we hate each others' guts." Kurt knew that that had sounded crueller
than he had intended, and he wanted to kick himself as soon as the words had
left his mouth when he saw the way that Sebastian’s eyes hardened once more.

"If that's what you want to believe," Sebastian said coolly, standing up and
smoothing down his robes. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'm rather late
for dinner."

"Sebastian—" Kurt tried, albeit rather half-heartedly.

Sebastian swung around and glared at him with such anger that Kurt flinched.
"Don't," he spat, his tone uncharacteristically vicious. "Save your platitudes
for somebody who actually cares."

And with that, he spun on his heel and stormed out of the library, the set of
his shoulders furious and threatening. Kurt was left feeling nauseous and with
a bitter taste in his mouth.
                                       *
He should have known that this would happen, really. Bullies never back down
for good when shamed; they only retreat to lick their wounds in peace before
springing another attack—one which Kurt should really have been expecting. He'd
encountered enough bullies during his childhood to know that they weren't going
to back down that easy.
So he shouldn't really have been all that surprised when Karofsky and his
cronies jumped him after dinner one evening. They had waited until he had left
Rachel—he was planning on heading to the library to collect a book on severing
charms for his Charms homework, whereas she had Quidditch practice to
attend—and then, when he was walking along one of the short-cuts in semi-gloom,
leapt out from behind the statue of Boris the Giant Bobblehead and knocked him
to the ground.
Kurt saw stars as his head smacked into the stone floor, his mouth flooding
with blood from a bitten tongue.
Karofsky loomed over him, his expression maliciously gleeful. "Not so bold now,
are you?"
"Fuck you," Kurt spat, feeling blood dribble out down his chin.
Karofsky made a mock-shocked expression, his mouth making an 'o' and his eyes
widening. "Is the little fairy afraid?" he asked. "Do you kiss your mother with
that mouth? Oh wait—she’s dead, isn’t she? Fucking mudblood."
Kurt growled and tried to kick his knees. One of Karofsky's cronies—Kurt really
didn't give a fuck about the asshole's name—stamped on his leg. Kurt felt,
rather than heard, something snap in his ankle and a sharp jolt of pain lance
up his leg to his spine. There was an outraged yell, and it took him a moment
to realise that he was the one making the noise. "Fucking bastard," he said,
pain making his breathing shallow and ragged. "I will rip your fucking eyes
out."
Karofsky snorted. Kurt's vision was spinning worryingly; Karofsky's face was
coming in and out of focus like a poorly adjusted camera. He looked kind of
funny.
"You think this is funny?" Karofsky asked, his voice carrying a hint of
uncertainty with it. "What's so funny, you little faggot?"
Kurt hadn't realised he was smiling. He let out a sharp laugh. “Are you really
so stupid as to think that you can kick the gay out of me?”
Karofsky let out a growl of rage and kicked him hard in the ribs, sending a
wave of agony washing over Kurt, nearly causing him to black out. "Shut up, you
sack of shit," Karofsky hissed, kicking Kurt again for good measure. Kurt
closed his eyes and tried to ignore the way his lungs felt like they were on
fire.
***** Strangeness and Charm *****
Chapter Summary
     [Hogwarts AU] Kurt Hummel never wanted to be a Slytherin--especially
     not when it landed him in the same house as Sebastian Smythe.
He came to in a soft bed, his leg no longer screaming in pain and his ribs
reduced to only a throbbing ache. 

"You're awake," a familiar voice said quietly. Kurt turned his head to see
Sebastian draped across a chair, gold reading glasses perched on his nose and a
tatty paperback in his hands—a muggle one as well, from the look of it.

Kurt closed his eyes again, but when he reopened them Sebastian was still
sitting there, the hints of a smirk playing around his lips. "What're you doing
here?" Kurt asked—or at least tried to, his tongue heavy and cumbersome in his
mouth.

Sebastian rolled his eyes and got to his feet, reaching out to grab a couple of
pillows from a stack on the windowsill. He helped Kurt to sit up, propping the
pillows behind Kurt's back before pouring him a glass of water. 

Kurt's fingers squeaked on the misty-cold glass as he took it, his hand shaking
slightly with the exertion. Sebastian sighed and took it from him, carefully
lifting it to Kurt's mouth without spilling a drop. The water tasted cool and
sweet on Kurt's tongue. He tried to swallow a bigger mouthful but choked,
spluttering water down his front. 

"Idiot," Sebastian muttered, reaching out to dry off Kurt's chin with a cuff. 

Kurt pulled away, cheeks burning. "You don't need to be here," he pointed out,
his voice coming clearer now. 

"I told the nurse I'd stay until you woke up." Sebastian set the glass
down—Kurt winced at the lack of a coaster—and shrugged. 

"Well, I'm awake now," Kurt said. 

Sebastian ignored him and settled down in his chair again, picking up his book
and folding the corner of the page over to mark his place. Kurt winced again. 

"In other words, there's no reason for you to be here." Kurt tried to fold his
arms but the jolt of pain that the movement sent through his chest caused him
to gasp and unfold them again. 

"Nurse says you shouldn't move," Sebastian said, frowning at Kurt in a
particularly annoyed manner, forehead furrowing. "You took a real bashing."

"I'd noticed." 

"Good thing I came along when I did, really," Sebastian continued, as if Kurt
hadn't even spoken. "You'd probably be in St. Mungo's ICU otherwise."

Kurt frowned at him. "You're exaggerating. Like always."

Sebastian fixed him with a serious look. "Not exaggerating."

"They wouldn't have gone that far." Even as the words left his mouth, Kurt
realised the falseness of them. He swallowed and looked down at his clasped
hands in his lap. "Thanks," he said quietly. It wasn't as hard to say as he'd
expected.

Sebastian’s eyebrows leapt up his forehead. "Do my ears deceive me?" he asked
in a mock-astonished tone. "Did Kurt ‘I’m better than you’ Hummel just
apologise?"

"I am capable of apologising sometimes, Sebastian." Kurt scowled. "Stop making
this out to be such a big deal."

Sebastian pressed a hand to his chest. "Oh, but it is! I must alert the media—"

"What, about the alarming resemblance you bear to various members of the weasel
family?”

Sebastian smiled then, so sudden and unexpected that Kurt was momentarily
wrong-footed. "That's more like it. Nice Kurt was starting to creep me out a
little—I was worrying that you'd hit your head harder than we'd realised."

"Fuck. Off," Kurt said steadily, as if Sebastian was a slow tourist who needed
things said both loudly, slowly and multiple times. Only he was nicer to
Sebastian than he would be to a tourist. Vultures. And the thought that he was
being nicer to Sebastian than he would be to somebody else was a rather
disturbing line of thought, one which he was grateful to have broken by
Rachel's arrival.

"Kurt!" she squeaked, sounding positively delighted to see him. She rushed
over, dropping her bag on the foot of Kurt's bed and grabbing him in a tight
hug that made Kurt's head spin, both from the pain from his ribs and from lack
of air. 

"Careful, hobbit-girl," Sebastian said, amused. "He's still got three broken
ribs."

"Sorry, sorry," she said, letting him go instantly. She grinned at him,
bouncing on the balls of her feet. "I'm just glad to see you awake. I was
getting ready to sing tearfully at your bedside if you didn’t wake up soon.”
She frowned slightly. “Actually, I’m quite sad to have missed out on that
opportunity. I’m convinced the only reason Brittany doesn’t love me yet is
because she hasn’t heard me sing—and it would have been perfectly moving for
her to hear me sing at my friend’s sickbed.” 

Kurt rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry to have caused you to miss out on the chance
to use my injuries as a tool in wooing your soon-to-be girlfriend. How long
have I been out?"

"About a day," Sebastian said, tucking his long legs up underneath himself on
the chair and taking his glasses off, stowing them inside his robes.

Kurt frowned. "You've been out of classes all that time?" 

Sebastian shrugged. "They weren't particularly interesting anyway."

"And the teachers just let you?" 

Sebastian smirked lazily, draping himself over the arm of the chair. He stroked
the spine of the closed book in his lap, fingers unconsciously tracing over the
weathered spine almost seductively. "You would be surprised what a charming
personality can do for you, Kurt." 

"Of course, you would know," Kurt said, injecting as much sarcasm into his
voice as he could. 

Unabashed, Sebastian just grinned at him and tapped his fingers on the cover of
his book. 

Kurt narrowed his eyes. "Have you been sitting in here all day?" he demanded. 

"No," Sebastian said at the same time that Rachel said "yes". Sebastian gave
Rachel a pointed look and firmly repeated, "No. Do you really think I'd waste
my time hanging around at your bedside?"

"Yes," Rachel said, grinning impishly at Sebastian when he kicked her. "He had
me bring him up books so he wouldn't get bored."

Kurt leaned back, his ribs aching from the strain of sitting up straight. He
folded his hands in his lap and raised an eyebrow, noting with curiosity how
the tips of Sebastian’s ears were stained red. "Rachel, would you mind getting
me a drink?" he asked, hoping she would take the hint and ignore the fact that
he had a half-drunk glass of water on the stand. 

"Sure," she chirped, flashing Sebastian a smile before bouncing out the room.
They could hear her humming as she headed down the stairs. 

"She's in a good mood," Kurt said, "especially considering the fact she was
pissed with me before."

Sebastian fixed Kurt with a suspicious look. "Unless you have some strange kind
of amnesia that causes you to forget things at random, you know full well that
you have half a glass of water on the nightstand. And unless Rachel's suddenly
become mysteriously blind, she knows that too."

"Maybe I wanted some juice instead," Kurt said, suddenly feeling defensive. How
in Merlin's name had he thought that talking to Sebastian was a good idea? 

"Cut the crap, Kurt, and tell me what's going on," Sebastian snapped, sitting
up straight and glaring at Kurt with an odd sort of vulnerability in his gaze.
 

Kurt swallowed. He sort of wished that he hadn't sent Rachel away, now. "Why
did you decide to stay with me all day?" 

Sebastian narrowed his eyes. He looked more ruffled than Kurt thought he'd ever
seen him before. "You already know why, Kurt."

"Actually, no, I don't." Kurt started to fold his arms, but then remembered
that it was a bad idea and instead clasped them in his lap, fingernails digging
crescents into the backs of his fingers. "Enlighten me, if you would be so
kind."

Sebastian abruptly got to his feet and started pacing. "I've already told you
that I...like you," he said, crossing his arms and glaring at Kurt. He looked
like he was only just managing to keep from yelling—or bursting into tears. 

Kurt tore his gaze away from Sebastian and instead stared down at his hands in
his lap. He felt like his insides were writhing, panic starting to claw its way
up his throat and into his mouth where it pinned down his tongue, rendering him
mute. He looked back up again when Sebastian let out a harsh bark of laughter,
rough and broken-sounding. He shook his head and sat back down again, tucking
his knees up against his chest and hugging them. He was biting down on his
lower lip, bruising the full pink flesh. Kurt sort of wanted to kiss him.

Wait. What?

Kurt closed his eyes for a second, hoping that when he opened them Sebastian
would be gone and this would all have been some sort of drug-induced
hallucination. 

But no. He wasn't so lucky.

Sebastian wasn't looking at him, instead choosing to stare down at the floor
with a curiously blank expression on his face. He looked young; brown hair
starting to flop from its upswept coiff, jaw clean-shaven and his face angular
in that way that teenage boys get before they start to fill out some more. 

Kurt opened his mouth, then shut it again. The panic was starting to recede,
making way for a oddly hysterical feeling that Kurt wasn't sure he liked—he had
no idea if he was about to burst into laughter or if he was going to start
yelling and throwing things: neither of which were things he particularly
wanted to have happen in front of Sebastian. "Look," he said after a moment
where he tried to wrestle his emotions back under control. "I didn't realise
you were serious." He licked his lips, his mouth strangely dry. He felt sick,
his stomach clenched into a tight, wriggling ball of anxiety and fear. "I
thought you were just mocking me," he finished, voice low. His hands were
stinging where his fingernails had dug into slightly too hard. 

When he finally managed to look at Sebastian, Sebastian looked completely
bewildered. "Uh," Sebastian said, forehead crinkling, "how does kissing you
translate to mocking you?"

Kurt flushed, his cheeks prickling with the all-too-familiar heat. "I thought
you knew."

"Knew what?"

"Um," Kurt said, not quite sure whether this was going quite as he had
intended. "That I like you.” He squeezed his eyes shut, not sure if he would be
able to take what he was sure would be an expression of mocking derision on
Sebastian’s face. 

Instead, he heard a low, amused chuckle. He cracked open one eye, frowning when
he saw a blurry Sebastian rocking backwards and forwards, a hand slapped over
his face. 

"It's not funny," Kurt said petulantly, opening both eyes fully so he could
glare at Sebastian. "It's actually rather serious."

Sebastian just shook his head and laughed even harder. 

Kurt huffed and wished that he didn't have three broken ribs, so that he could
fold his arms. "I'd appreciate it if you'd stop laughing at me."

Sebastian took his hand away from his face and grinned at Kurt, face pink and
eyes watery from laughing. "I'm just appreciating the irony," he said, still
chuckling slightly.   

Kurt frowned. "I'm not following."

Sebastian unfolded himself from the chair and came over to perch on the edge of
Kurt bed, reaching out to take Kurt's hand. Kurt blushed again, automatically
pulling his hand back from Sebastian’s warm grasp. 

"M'not a girl," he muttered, looking away in embarrassment. 

Sebastian huffed out a soft laugh. "I'd noticed. It’s kinda part of the
appeal." He bit his lip, looking conflicted. "I'm going to kiss you now, if
that's okay?"

Kurt had barely opened his mouth to agree when he found warm lips on his own.
He made a muffled sound of surprise; Sebastian pulled back as quickly as if
Kurt had hit him, eyes wide. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" 

"I'm fine," Kurt said breathlessly, unable to tear his eyes from Sebastian’s
mouth. His pulse was fluttering at the base of his throat and his lips were
tingling. "Just took me by surprise."

Sebastian grinned suddenly. He shifted closer to Kurt until their faces were
only inches apart. "Good," he breathed, and Kurt could taste him on his tongue,
slightly cinnamon and nutmeg and completely addicting. Kurt closed the gap
between them and kissed Sebastian again, forcing Sebastian’s mouth open and
biting down slightly on his lower lip until Sebastian made a murmur of
complaint, then licking deep into Sebastian’s mouth. He felt dizzy, intoxicated
and light-headed, spinning wildly out of control and not able to care in the
slightest. 

Sebastian brought his hand up to cup Kurt's cheek, stroking his thumb along
Kurt's cheekbone as he turned the kiss gentler, lazier, before pulling away and
grinning at Kurt. "I find it hard to believe that you've never kissed before,"
he said, lilting amusement in his tone and, for the first time, it didn't send
a shiver of irritation through Kurt. 

Kurt shrugged, biting down on his tongue when the movement sent a wave of pain
through his torso. "Guess I'm just a natural, then," he said with a rather
Sebastian-esque smirk. 

Sebastian hummed in agreement and leaned in for another kiss when a delighted
shriek pierced the warm mugginess that was so pleasantly overpowering Kurt's
mind. He glared at Rachel as she approached them, fingers curling possessively
around Sebastian’s tie, keeping him in place. He didn't even remember grabbing
hold of it, but it was surprisingly handy. "Can't you see we're busy?" he said,
not caring about the whining tone to his voice. 

"Oh, don't mind me," Rachel said, sitting in the chair that Sebastian had
vacated. "Just carry on."

"Perv," Kurt muttered, forcing himself to let go of Sebastian’s tie. "I still
don't see where you get off on all of this." 

Rachel stuck out her tongue at him, but didn't stop grinning. "I'm not going to
say 'I told you so'." She gave it a second's thought. "Actually, no, I am. Told
you so!" 

"Fuck off," Kurt said easily, smiling at her despite his irritation. "Why are
you even here?"

She shrugged, jerking a thumb at her bag. "I brought you your school books,"
she said. "I thought you might want to catch up on homework. Sebastian too."

Sebastian snorted, hand creeping out to take Kurt's again. This time, Kurt
didn't pull away. "No, thanks."

Kurt pinched his hand. 

"Ow! What the fuck, Kurt?" Sebastian complained, cradling his hand against his
chest and giving Kurt a wounded look. "There's no need to maul me."

"I believe the correct reply to Rachel was, 'thank you so much for thinking of
me, Rachel—I'd love to catch up on my homework'." Kurt smiled, baring his
teeth. 

"Bloody hell, fine," Sebastian grumbled, still rubbing his hand. 

Kurt rolled his eyes and reached out to reclaim Sebastian’s hand. "Stop being
such a baby," he said, brushing his thumb over the back of Sebastian’s hand. "I
didn't pinch you that hard."

Sebastian pouted, his lower lips jutting out. Kurt sort of wanted to bite it.
"I have very sensitive skin.” 

Kurt smirked.

"You two are so sappy," Rachel announced. "It's making my teeth ache."

"You don't have to stay," Kurt said, not looking away from Sebastian. "Wouldn't
want you to get cavities."

Rachel sighed, sounding put-upon. "I guess I'll just have to brush my teeth
really well tonight."

"You do that, sweetheart," Sebastian said, winking at Kurt. "Actually, just to
be on the safe side, why don't you go and do that now?"

"I'm fine, thanks."

"That was a hint, Rachel."

"What was?" she said, faux-innocent. 

"Just go away, sweetheart," Sebastian said. "Kurt and I are trying to have a
moment, here."

"Oh, sorry." Rachel got up, pulling out a couple of books from her bag and
placing them on the sidetable. "Going, going." She ambled out of the hospital
wing, sending a wink in their direction before closing the door behind her. 

"Finally," Sebastian murmured, inching closer to Kurt again. "Now, where were
we?"

"Apparently we were trying to have a moment," Kurt said, brain starting to stop
functioning again at Sebastian’s proximity. "And I hope by moment you meant
make-out session."

"You read my mind, babe."
*
Sebastian and Kurt were curled up on a couch in a corner of the Slytherin
common room, lit with a soft blue-green light from the window into the lake,
when Karofsky clambered through the portrait-hole. Kurt stiffened, the warmth
of Sebastian’s side pressed against his own suddenly a beacon, flashing ‘Come
get us! Look at us being gay in the corner over here!’ 

Sebastian evidently felt Kurt’s tension, because he looked at him in concern—an
expression Kurt could only now recognise as such, the only indicator of concern
being a slight creasing of Sebastian’s brow. “You okay?” he asked, pitching his
voice low and intimate. 

Kurt didn’t look at him, unable to tear his eyes away from Karofsky’s leer over
the other side of the common room. “Yeah,” he said weakly, his ribs giving an
insistent throb, a reminder of what Karofsky could—and would—do. “Just…tired.”

Sebastian wriggled slightly closer and Kurt had to resist the urge to flinch
away. Laying a warm hand on Kurt’s arm, his book completely forgotten,
Sebastian scrutinised Kurt’s face. “We can head upstairs, if you want,” he
offered. His mouth curved into a smirk. “My bed’s more comfortable, anyway.” 

Kurt smiled back, although all he felt was nauseous, Karofsky’s presence
turning what should be a comforting touch into one that left him feeling dirty
and fearful. “A tempting offer, but one I’ll have to decline,” he said. “I
really just need to get some sleep.” He pushed himself upright and got to his
feet, his skin feeling cold now he was away from Sebastian’s heat. He shook his
head when Sebastian made to get up as well, smiling tightly. “I’m fine, don’t
worry. I’d only fall asleep on you and be terribly boring company.”

“I don’t mind.” Sebastian looked at him with a softness in his eyes that made
Kurt’s breath catch in his throat. The temptation to crawl back into his arms
threatened to overwhelm him until he remembered Karofsky’s hulking presence
still there in the room. 

Kurt shook his head. “Thanks, but no thanks.” He tried to ignore how hurt
flickered in Sebastian’s eyes and flashed him a brief smile before turning and
hurrying towards the door to the boys’ dormitories. 

He had barely passed the door to the first years’ room when he was slammed up
against the wall. A thick arm was placed squarely across his throat and
Karofsky’s breath ghosted hot across on his face. 

“What was that with Smythe in there, Hummel?” Karofsky demanded, voice pitched
low but furious. “You spreading your gay everywhere, huh? Desperate for any guy
who decides to take pity on you?”

Kurt shoved at him. His pulse was racing, his ribs screaming and the pressure
at the base of his throat making it hard to think. “Get off me, you fucking
Neanderthal,” he hissed, panic starting to rise again. 

Karofsky pushed harder. The stone against Kurt’s back was hard and unforgiving.
“Answer my question, fag, or you’ll find a fist in your ribs again.” 

Kurt struggled to think. “It’s none of your business what Sebastian and I do,”
he ended up saying, but he knew the second he opened his mouth that it was no
use.

Karofsky laughed. “It’s my business when you come into my house and fairy-up
the place. You made it my business when you corrupted one of ours.”

“Big word, that,” Kurt spat. “Did you look it up specially?” 

Karofsky growled and used his other arm to grab Kurt’s bicep, digging his
fingers in until Kurt gasped in pain and would have buckled at the knees, were
he not being held up by his neck. “Go near him again and I will make you regret
it.” 

Kurt stared at him, pain and fear making his vision sway and blur until all he
could focus on was Karofsky’s face and the complete lack of empathy in his
eyes. “I didn’t makehim gay,” he said, voice rising in pitch and cracking.
“He’s gay and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Karofsky pulled away from him then and Kurt sank to the floor, gasping for air
and watching as Karofsky’s expression changed from anger to cruel enjoyment.
“Well we’ll just have to go after Smythe, then, won’t we?” Karofsky said, faux-
casually. “The gay may be stuck in you, but we might be able to beat it out of
him in time.”

And with that, he turned and swaggered back up the stairs to the common room.
The door closed behind him with a dull thud, leaving Kurt sat alone on the cold
stones of the dimly-lit hallway with a sick feeling coiling in his stomach. 

*
"They got any sausages?" Sebastian asked, plumping down next to Kurt at
breakfast and reaching out to grab a slice of toast. 

Kurt stared at him. "What are you doing?"

Sebastian paused and frowned, as if confused by what Kurt meant. "...eating
breakfast," he said after a moment of silence. He tore a strip off the toast
with his teeth, chewing noisily as he stared at Kurt, expectant. "Why," he
asked through his mouthful, "is there a problem with that?"

Kurt wrinkled his nose at the half-masticated toast in Sebastian’s mouth.
"You're at the wrong end of the table."

Sebastian still looked nonplussed. "Is that a problem?"

"You're at the wrong end of the table," Kurt repeated, as if saying it enough
times would somehow cause Sebastian to understand.

Sebastian shrugged and flashed him a cheery smile. "And good morning to you
too."

"I think what Kurt's trying to say is that he doesn't understand why his
boyfriend might want to sit with him at breakfast," Rachel said with an over-
exaggerated eye-roll. 

Kurt's frown deepened as Sebastian helped himself to the platter of chipolatas.
"People will stare."

"Let them," Sebastian said with a shrug. "It's only breakfast. Sausage?"

"No, thanks." Kurt glanced around. Sure enough, there were a handful of faces
looking back at him in curiosity. He glared at them and turned away. "They'll
talk," he warned, taking a gulp of his juice and giving Sebastian a pointed
look. And definitely not appreciating the line of his jaw. 

Sebastian laughed: a soft, intimate sound that sent shivers down Kurt's spine.
He reached out and laid a hand on Kurt's shoulder; a casual gesture imbued with
such meaning that Kurt's breath caught in his throat. "Then let's give them
something to talk about, hmm?"

Kurt snorted, but relaxed in his seat all the same. He jumped when Sebastian
matter-of-factly laced their fingers together, pulling his hand away
automatically. He saw the hurt that flashed across Sebastian’s face and felt a
twinge of guilt in his gut. "Not now," he muttered, unable to meet Sebastian’s
eyes. He could feel the eyes of Karofsky and his cronies drilling into the side
of his head from where they sat at the other end of the table, not too far from
where Sebastian usually sat. 

Rachel threw a bunched-up napkin at Kurt's head, bitchfacing at him when he
scowled at her. "Stop being such a prude, Kurt," she chided. "Let your
boyfriend hold your hand and stop acting like the Wizengamot will come down on
your head for it."

"I need both my hands to eat," Kurt protested, holding up his knife and fork. 

Sebastian slanted a side-ways look at him, his expression guarded. Kurt wasn't
sure whether he wanted to know what was going through Sebastian’s mind or not. 

Rachel heaved a put-upon sigh and went back to perusing the pages of a dog-
earned copy of Magical Hieroglyphs and Logograms. Kurt frowned at her, but
didn’t comment.

“So, I was wondering if you could meet me in the library this evening?”
Sebastian said, forking scrambled egg into his mouth and chewing noisily. “I
could do with some help on my Transfiguration essay.”

Kurt froze, mind racing. “Um,” he said, “I’m kind of busy this evening?”

Sebastian paused in his egg-eating and gave him a curious look. “What are you
doing?”

“Just…stuff,” Kurt said, shrugging. He took a gulp of his pumpkin juice and
somehow, although he would never know how, managed to choke on it.

Sebastian was there in a second, pressing up close and slapping him on the
back, a concerned expression on his face. “You okay?” he asked, hand lingering
just slightly too long to be strictly platonic and the heat from his thigh,
pressed against Kurt’s, burning through Kurt’s trousers and setting his skin on
fire. Kurt wasn’t sure if he liked it or not; he’d never had particularly
pyromaniacal tendencies.

His eyes were watering; Sebastian was wetly blurred around the edges, only his
face in proper focus. Kurt tried to smile, but knew that it came out as more of
a pained grimace. “Fine.” He pulled away from Sebastian’s touch, ignoring the
flash of hurt that crossed Sebastian’s face at the obvious rejection, and
picked up his bag. “I’m heading off to Arithmancy.”

Rachel looked over the edge of her book to observe, “You’ve barely eaten
anything.”

Sebastian reached out and grasped Kurt’s wrist, long fingers curling tight and
sending heat scorching through Kurt’s body. Kurt distractedly wondered if he’d
find burn marks littering his body by the end of the day. “Sit down and finish
your breakfast,” Sebastian said with a small smile, tugging Kurt’s arm. 

Kurt frowned. “My class starts in half an hour.”

“That gives you plenty of time to have some toast.” Sebastian dropped a slice
of still-warm toast onto Kurt’s plate and handed him a jar of strawberry jam.
“Eat, babe,” he said, winking. 

“I don’t like strawberry,” Kurt muttered, even as he sat down.

Sebastian said nothing, simply swapping the strawberry for blackcurrant. “I’ll
walk you over there when you’ve finished.”

Kurt narrowly avoided choking on his toast, this time. “Um, you don’t need to
do that.”

Sebastian shrugged and flashed him a smug smile. “I don’t mind. I have a free
period, anyway.”

“You still don’t need to walk me to class, Sebastian.” Kurt felt the familiar
surge of irritation rise up in his chest again. In some ways, it was nice to
know that kissing Sebastian didn’t make him any less irritating. 

“It’s no problem.”

Kurt gritted his teeth. “I know my way around the fucking school, Sebastian.”

Sebastian’s eyebrows jumped up his forehead. “No need to be so touchy, babe.”

“Kurt,” Kurt said, glaring at him. “Not ‘babe’. Kurt.It’s my name; maybe you
could try using it for once.”

An irritated glint sparked in Sebastian’s eyes. “Fine. Kurt.”

“Good,” Kurt threw back, folding his arms and fixing Sebastian with a mulish
expression. “Can I go now?”

“Be my guest,” Sebastian said, lips twitching into a sneer. Kurt wasn’t sure if
he wanted to punch him or kiss him, pressing close and bruising his frustration
into Sebastian’s skin. 

He stood up again, hitching his bag over his shoulder and giving Rachel a curt
nod. “I’ll see you later.”

She gave him a narrow-eyed look over the edge of her book and nodded back.
“Sure.”

Kurt hesitated for a moment, not sure if he should nod at Sebastian or not.
After an awkward moment in which Sebastian pointedly refused to look at Kurt,
he turned on his heel and stalked away.

*

Kurt was distracted all the way through his next lesson. He sat in his usual
place at the front of the classroom, but instead of having his hand in the air
every five seconds (the teaching had become rather good at dodging Kurt’s hand
by now), he nibbled on the end of his quill—ignoring the bits of feather that
stuck to his tongue—and stared at the blank sheet of parchment laid out on the
desk in front of him.

Professor Abrams stopped halfway through the middle of his talk on the
symbolism of the joint usage of the numbers seventy-three and eighty-one, and
gave Kurt a curious look. “Are you feeling quite well, Hummel?” he asked,
pushing his glasses further up his nose and peering at Kurt in anxiety. 

Kurt stared at him, not entirely sure how to react. “Um, yes, thank you,” he
said after a moment of silence in which he could feel the eyes of the rest of
the class burning into the back of his skull. “Tired, I guess.”

He nodded and gave him a sympathetic look. “It’s the date, you know,” he
informed him matter-of-factly. “It particularly exhausts those who have
birthdays on the twenty-fourth of a month.”

Kurt blinked, vaguely weirded out by the fact that Professor Abrams knew when
his birthday was and even more unsettled by the fact that his Arithmancy lesson
seemed to have turned into a Divination class. “…Okay,” he said, biting down on
his lower lip and trying to ignore the fact that everybody was staring at him.

“Would it help if you took a break?” Professor Abrams readjusted his glasses
again, wheeling closer to Kurt’s desk and fixing Kurt with a firm look.

Kurt hesitated. “I’m not sure—”

“Okay, okay, off you go,” Professor Abrams said, wheeling himself back to the
blackboard and picking up the chalk stub. “Now, we were discussing how seventy-
three and eighty-one work together to create an optimum power—can anybody tell
me how they work in correlation with one another?” He turned around and blinked
at Kurt. “Weren’t you just leaving, Hummel?”

Kurt flushed and pulled his bag onto the desk, shoving his books and papers
into it before getting to his feet and fleeing the classroom as quick as he
could without tripping over his own feet.

Turning the corner, he nearly walked straight into somebody leaning against the
wall. He hastily side-stepped, not looking to see who it was. “Sorry, sorry,”
he muttered, hiking his bag further up on his shoulder and ducking his head.

“Wait—Kurt—” a familiar voice said, a warm hand wrapping around his wrist and
preventing him from pulling away. Kurt froze, feeling like a bucket of icy
water had just been dumped over his head, his breath catching in his throat.

Sebastian quickly dropped Kurt’s wrist, fingers brushing against the back of
Kurt’s hand before Kurt flinched away and Sebastian shoved his hands back into
the pockets of his robes. “I was hoping to speak to you,” Sebastian said, green
eyes earnest.

Kurt’s stomach clenched. “I don’t know if this is quite the right time—”

“It’s never the right time,” Sebastian said sharply, glaring at Kurt. He ran a
hand through his hair, messing up the carefully-combed style and causing it to
flop over his forehead slightly, giving him a look of vulnerability that made
Kurt’s heart skip a beat. Sebastian sighed. “Look. We need to talk.”

Kurt quirked an eyebrow, fixing Sebastian with his most glacial of frigid
stares. “I don’t see what there is to talk about, unless it’s how obnoxious
your smirking has become.”

Sebastian snorted. “Nice one, Kurt. And here I was thinking that your
prissiness came from being too much of a lady, but ladies don’t insult people
who’ve done nothing wrong.”

“We have nothing to talk about, Sebastian.” Kurt tightened his grip on his bag-
strap and resisted the temptation to look away from Sebastian’s gaze.

Sebastian took a step closer. “What about everything?”

“I’m perfectly willing to discuss the meaning of life some other time.” 

“Ha-ha, very fucking funny.” Sebastian folded his arms, shifting his weight
from foot to foot as is he wasn’t sure whether to run or stand his ground. He
ducked his head, the movement an odd combination of awkward and elegant, like a
cat teetering on the top of a fence. “Look, fuck—what is this, Kurt?”

Kurt paused. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “It’s not something I’ve really
thought about.”

He was a fantastic liar when he put his mind to it.

Sebastian frowned at him. “Stop lying.”

Or not.

“I’m not lying,” Kurt said, although even he could hear the way his tone rang
false and he knew Sebastian could too. He plunged on—in for one, in for a
dozen, right? “I appreciate that you stayed with me in the hospital wing, and
maybe you’re not as annoying as I first thought, but that doesn’t change the
fact that you’re a smirky-faced douchebag who this is all a giant game to.”

Sebastian’s mouth dropped open. He shook his head, taking a step back. He
looked as if Kurt had just sucker-punched him in the stomach, his face white,
unusually open and expressive. “I can’t believe you, sometimes,” he said, his
voice surprisingly ragged. “I can’t believe that you still don’t getit, even
after I stayed with you and held your hand and kissed you and—” He cut himself
off, inhaling sharply and closing his eyes. “I thought you cared more than
that.”

Kurt folded his arms and tried not to wince at the residual ache in his ribs.
“You have a reputation, Sebastian,” he said firmly, ignoring the sick feeling
in his stomach when he saw Sebastian flinch. “You’ll get bored of me sooner or
later, and I won’t have that be the end of my first relationship. It’s better
to not even go there.”

“But kissing somebody and then leaving them out to dry is okay?” Sebastian
demanded, a familiar spark of anger appearing in his eyes. “You know, most
people would at least have the balls to break up with somebody properly—not to
mention that most people have an actual reason.”

“I have a reason,” Kurt said, feeling his resistance start to crumble. He kept
the image of Karofsky’s leer firmly in his mind. This is for Sebastian,he
reminded himself. He swallowed hard and went for the final kill: “And anyway,
it’s not breaking up if you were never together in the first place.”

Sebastian stilled, his expression becoming blank and neutral. “Well that clears
things up, then.” His voice was tight and measured, and Kurt felt like he was
breaking apart at the seams. “Have a nice day.”

Kurt wasn’t sure what to say to that. He just stood there in the corridor and
watched as Sebastian walked away from him for the first time.

*

“You absolute fucking bitch,Hummel.” Santana’s voice cut through the quiet of
the library as she stormed over to where Kurt was sitting with a pile of books
by a window. Other students looked up in shock and annoyance; the librarian
looked verging on apoplexic and got to her feet in protest, brandishing her
quill like a sword as she waved it at them.

Kurt eyed Santana warily as she came to a stop in front of him. “What brought
this on?”

Santana raised her hand and delivered a stinging slap to his cheek, one which
left his ears ringing and his face burning. “What do you fucking think?” she
hissed, hands on hips and cheeks flushed in anger. 

Kurt frowned. “If this is about Sebastian—” He flinched back when she made to
slap him again. “Santana! Wait a minute.”

She raised her eyebrows, mouth set in a stubborn line that reminded him of
Rachel in one of her moods. “You’ve got a minute, Hummel, before I hex you from
here to Durmstrang and go all hippogriff on your ass.”

“Sebastian and I aren’t suited to each other, okay?” Kurt said in a rush,
feeling his cheeks heat up further when she stared at him incredulously. “We’re
always arguing and I’m certain he doesn’t have a clue who Alexander McQueen
is—it was only going to end badly.”

“But you like him.” She didn’t sit down. Instead, she put her hands on her hips
and scowled.

Kurt glared at her, feeling the urge to squirm in his seat. “What is this, an
interrogation?”

“So you do like him.”

“I never said that.”

Santana smirked—and yes, she was definitely Sebastian’s cousin—and raised one
carefully-pencilled eyebrow. “What, the sex too hot for you or something?”

Kurt’s cheeks were on fire, he was pretty sure. “Not everything is about sex,
I’ll have you know,” he snapped. “What’s wrong with wanting a little bit of
romance?”

She stared at him, mouth dropping open slightly, before shaking her head. “If
you wanted serenades and flowers then you’d be pining after that Hufflepuff
Blanderson, Hummel. That’s not your reason.”

Kurt opened his mouth and then closed it again. “Were you here for a reason or
just to yell at me?”

“Just to yell at you,” she said sweetly, pulling up the chair opposite him and
dropping into it. “See, my cousin’s like my baby brother, so I don’t take it
all too well when some asshole goes and breaks his heart.”

Kurt fingered the spine of his copy of Numerology and Grammatica, not able to
meet her eyes. “He doesn’t havea heart,” he said, still not looking up. The
cover had a small rip in it at the bottom corner of the spine, he noticed, the
cardboard fluffy to the touch.

Santana folded her arms, tossing her hair back from her face with a careless
flick of her head. “He has a heart, alright. He just doesn’t usually let people
see it, because thisis what happens.” Her voice was lower than before but no
less intense. “Haven’t you ever been taught that it’s cruel to string people
along?”

Kurt looked up, meeting her eyes for the first time. “I didn’t mean to string
him along,” he said quietly, trying to imbue his voice with as much sincerity
as he could. “It just…happened. I was stupid and thought that we might work
out.” 

“It just happened,” Santana repeated incredulously. “Breaking somebody’s heart
doesn’t just happen,Hummel. What exactly even made you think it wasn’t going to
work?”

Kurt frowned. “That’s none of your business. I stopped it before it got too
far, didn’t I?”

Santana sighed, folding her hands on her knee and fixing Kurt with an intent
look. “Kurt, as far as Sebastian is concerned, it was far enough the first time
you ever spoke to him.” 

Kurt wasn’t entirely sure what to say to that. He stared at the polished
surface of the table and fought the urge to admit everything to this crazy
girl. Prefect or not, she was still smaller than Karofsky and he was pretty
sure Karofsky wouldn’t baulk at hitting a girl. 

She reached out and laid her hand over his, slender fingers cool against the
back of his hand. The red nail polish on her fingers was chipped, although her
nails were carefully manicured. “Tell me the truth, Kurt. You like him, don’t
you?”

“He’s an annoying, obnoxious, smirky-faced meerkat.” 

She laughed slightly at that. “I’m with you on that one, and when it comes to
Sebastian? That’s equivalent to a confession of love.” She patted his hand
before drawing back and getting to her feet. “Just promise me you’ll try to
talk to him?”

Kurt chewed on his lower lip, thinking. “I’ll try,” he said after a moment, not
even quite sure why he was agreeing but the memory of Sebastian’s white face
causing something to clench in his gut and the urge to fixthings threatening to
choke him. 

“Good.” Santana smiled down at him. “I was getting ready to threaten you with
some things that could potentially get me in trouble, so I’m glad we reached a
nice little agreement.” And with that, she turned and walked away before Kurt
could say anything else.
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