Title: Enchanted

Rating: PG

Pairing: Pre-Kurt/Blaine, hinted Pre Kurt/Karofsky, pre-Karofsky/OC

Warnings: None

Spoilers: None for Glee. Spoilers for the Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, if you have, for some reason, not read it.

Word Count: 12,500~ for these two parts.

Summary: At 11 years old Kurt Hummel receives his letter to Hogwarts ready to embark on his own magical journey, ready to make his father proud, but growing up is never easy.

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or Harry Potter.

Authour's Note: Straight to the point on this one. This story will be long like you would not believe, this is the first half of the first chapter, and I estimate the first chapter to be roughly 6 parts, so be prepared. This is 1st year only, but I hope to be able to do all 7 years. So, I hope you all enjoy.


It was a quiet morning, as was most mornings in the small village of West Harrowville, only this silence was different. The gray clouds that once hovered over their mountain nestled town had seemed to dissipate, a beam of sunlight illuminating the cobblestone of their roads. A lone man walked from his home, black robes swishing about his feet, eyes turned toward the sky as if waiting for a sign. A sign that terror would strike once again, terror that had claimed many lives. Eyes peaked through curtains as the man stood in the middle of the road, neck arched back, eyes looking solely at the beam of sunlight, a beam that promised hope.

One by one occupants opened their doors, peering around their ghost of a town. They took in the ruins of houses that once were, and the floral memorials of the deceased. They took in the sight of the same brown roof tops and white walled homes, houses so identical on the outside but so unique on the inside. The crunch of dead grass seemed like a roar to the few brave men venturing across their square lawns as if tempting fate. When no man was struck down by flashes of green they became more bold in their wanderings, filing into the street.

Soon the clattering of heeled shoes, and the swishing of dark robes became the only sounds filling the town as mother and child joined in the curiosity. A single loud crack was all it took for the fear to become palpable for the group to recoil, eyes shifting to their homes as if it would keep them safe. Only the usual flashes of green did not follow, instead a boy, barely 17 ran towards them, waving a paper about in the air.

He pulled the paper taunt holding it above his head for all to see the headline.


The crowd remained silent, staring, and staring, and staring for what seemed to be ages as if waiting for the words to twist and become false. When the words remained a wave of cheers began, a wave of hugging, a wave of tears, a wave of relief, and a new wave of hope for a new world.

The small brunette haired boy ran down the street, across Ms. McRiley's lawn, diving into a bush. Footfalls followed him, stopping in front of his bush, black robes was all the boy could see of his pursuer. With a groan the chaser took off running, groaning as he no doubt tripped over a gnome; Ms. McRiley's yard was known to be filled with them. Once the heavy breathing of his pursuer had faded the young boy crawled from his hiding spot and pass the cabbage patch which was obviously infested with flobberworms if those hole were any indication.

Slowly he climbed to his feet, walking cautiously from the yard, avoiding the potato like shape he knew to be yet another gnome. "There you are!" The boy looked back to see his attacker on a stone just behind some kind of odd growth outside Ms. McRiley's yard. Without thought he took off running, stumbling over a gnome who didn't seem pleased and attempted to bite him, merely catching the edge of his robe. "Get back here, Kurt!"

Kurt didn't stop, he ran and ran and ran, knowing the consequences of stopping. Only, he was a delicate child, not meant for this kind of outdoor stuff like other children, no matter how hard he tried. So it was no surprise when his attacker gained on him, tackling him to the hard cobblestone. "Ow," Kurt cried in pain, pushing his bully off, holding his elbow. The other boy, a burly boy for just over 11, sat back on his knees, looking at Kurt with concerned hazel eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you."

"I told you, Dave, I don't play rough games," Kurt sniffed, turning his nose up at the other male.

"We were playing Auror and Death Eater, you can't be easy on a Death Eater," Dave defended.

"Then next time I'll be the Auror and you can be the Death Eater."

Dave nodded in consent of the idea, standing up, holding his hand out to Kurt. The porcelain like boy placed a dainty hand in his friend's accepting the offer up.

"I just got these robes too and you ripped them," Kurt complained, showing Dave the clean tear over the elbow. "And that gnome put teeth holes in my robes. You're going to buy me new ones." When the boy did not give an answer in the affirmative as usual Kurt deemed it necessary to stomp on Dave's foot.

That immediately got the boys attention with a yelp of pain. "Pay attention to me!" Kurt demanded.

"I'm sorry, it's just, look where we are."

Kurt gave a indignant sigh, turning, eyes going wide at the ruins behind him. A sense of dread washed over him standing outside the Clearan house, especially when his father had told him not to tread so close, only he had not realized he'd be running in this direction at all. Several years ago the plots around the Clearan, McSeiran, and Hourshy houses had been cleared and dedicated as a memorial to the victims of the Wizardry War, it was a part of their small village that was never touched, some children even claimed you could be cursed by coming so close. Kurt, however, did not believe in such things.

"What do you suppose is in there?" Dave asked in a whisper.

"My dad said there's probably nothing but doxies inhabiting it now."

"Or maybe," Dave whistled, walking in front of Kurt, peering down at him. "A runespoor has made it's home there, two or three even."

Blue eyes narrowed on his friend. "And what is a runespoor? I've never heard of that."

"Never heard of it? A runespoor is a nasty creature, Kurt, a snake with three heads that can be 6 feet long."

"You're making that up."

"Am not! The Clearans were killed by Death Eaters, and You-Know-Who was a parselmouth, right? The runespoor is a snake with three heads, one being deadly venomous. Whose to say You-Know-Who didn't bring one here to hatch and it's just waiting for it's opportunity to strike; after all one of the heads is for planning. It could just be waiting for the right moment."

Biting his inside lip Kurt turned on his heel walking rapidly away. "You're not scared are you?" Dave taunted, walking after him.

"No, I'm going home to fix my dress robes," he lied, keeping his nose upturned.

"You're scared!" Dave taunted, practically skipping after him.

"Am not," Kurt denied, keeping on pace to walk to his home.

"Yes you are!"

Kurt bit the inside of his lip harder, urging himself not to rise to Dave's taunting, he would keep his head and get home. Besides, he could ask his dad if runespoors were real, he'd know. "I wonder when my Hogwarts letter will get here, should be any day now," Kurt asked the air, just to annoy Dave. The slightly elder boy had yet to display any sign of magic, his mother fearing the muggle blood had proven dominant in her third child. Kurt on the other hand had shown no less then what any normal pure blood wizard child did. He turned teacups into flowers, and rocks into cookies, his father had been so thrilled and promised to take him to Diagon Alley the day he received his letter.

"Mine's coming too," Dave reminded, partly assuring himself. "It will."

Kurt gave a smile, turning up the path of his home, which looked as all the rest did in West Harrowville, only different as he had hand-made a sun-catcher from a broken foe glass that truly set their home apart. He did love hearing compliments on his decorative window piece, and loved even more turning people down lest all the houses become ordinarily similar once again. "Do you want to come in?" Kurt questioned his friend and neighbor once they reached the red front door (red, as opposed to the brown door of the other homes).

"No, I'm going to go home and wait for my Hogwarts letter so I can gloat," he answered, turning and running across the perfectly green square of grass that was the lawn. Briefly he waved to Kurt before running to his house across the street, hollering to his mother loud enough for the minister to no doubt hear. With a shake of his head, Kurt turned the door knob entering his quaint little home that his mother had decorated with floral motifs and pastels, something to make everything less dreary. At least, that's what his father had told him she had said. Kurt didn't remember his mother, she was killed during the war trying to protect Samantha Clearan, the Death Eaters had no sympathy towards a child or a mother and struck down both. It warmed his heart just the tiniest to know his mother had died fighting instead of hiding as most did.

"Kurt, is that you?" his father called from the direction of the living room.

"Yes," he called back, faintly realizing he'd be staring at the moving picture of his dancing mother they kept on the wall across from the stairs.

"Would you come here for a moment?"

Kurt looked at the picture of his mother once more before leaving the entryway, walking into the large space that was their living area, dining area, and kitchen all in one; a perfectly square house. Everything had it place in this home. The kitchen was to the immediate left, with dark wood cabinets adorned with brass knobs and handles, a deep washing basin for their sink which was currently occupied by a bowl attempting to wash itself. Kurt made a note to learn house cleaning spells to take over for his father's weak cleaning skills. At least their round wood dining table was clean, that was an upside.

With a smile he turned to his right, seeing his balding father sitting on his favorite yellow sofa talking with a dark haired woman, a dark haired young boy sitting on their forest motif rug. "What's going on?" he asked, noting the boy looking at a Quidditch book in awe.

"Mom, these pictures move!" the boy exclaimed, sitting next to his mother, showing her.

"Wow, that's really neat, Finn."

"Kurt," his father called, waving him over. "Come here, I want you to meet the Hudsons."

"Who are the Hudsons?" Kurt questioned, walking forward very cautiously, eyeing the two."Kurt, you remember when I mentioned going to London for a drink at the Leaky Cauldron? And you asked-"

"Why you couldn't go to the Seven Wands here in town?" Kurt nodded.

"Well, I did tell you a bit of a fib. I was going to London but not to the Leaky Cauldron, I was frequenting a muggle pub."

"Muggle pub?" Kurt asked, looking at the two people he was now sure are muggles. "Why?"His father stood, helping the woman to her feet. She turned to Kurt, her clothes painfully muggle and painfully horrible, but her smile was kind and reached her eyes. "Kurt, this is Carole Hudson and her son, Finn Hudson. Carole, Finn, this is my son, Kurt."

"It's nice to meet you, Kurt, I hope we can become good friends," Carole greeted, her smile growing impossibly larger.

Kurt didn't return the smile, instead he looked at his father. "Why are there muggles here?"

"Kurt," his father scolded. "This is a tolerant household."

"Yes sir," Kurt sighed, turning his eyes to the floor. But it wasn't the muggle status that was bothering him, it was the 'woman' status. A woman that could potentially take away his dad, a woman that could take away the place in his dad's heart reserved for his mother.

"Now, Kurt, I'm going to take Finn for a walk around town, you stay here with Carole," his father ordered leaving no room for argument.

Reluctantly Kurt walked to the sunflower yellow sofa, sitting down, looking at the woman called Carole who was trying to steal his father. Carole gave him another soft smile before seating herself once again. "You listen to everything Burt says, and don't run off, okay, Finn?"

Finn nodded, enthusiastically taking Burt's hand, eager to see what else the town held; wondering if they'd be as marvelous as the moving pictures. Kurt watched his father's hand clamp around the other boy's, leading him out of the house, Finn still clutching on to the Quidditch book depicting the history of the Appleby Arrows. With one last call of good-byes Burt and Finn disappeared into the entryway before the clack of the door followed signaling their exit.

"I know what you're thinking," Carole began softly, placing a gentle hand over Kurt's comparably smaller one. "Who is this woman? Why does she want to take my dad away? I had a mom."

Kurt looked her square in the eyes, letting her know that's exactly what he was thinking.

"I was married too once. 11 years ago my husband, Finn's father, went missing. It was the strangest thing, he went to collect the post and then he was simply gone. After talking to your father I realize my husband must have been just another nameless victim of You-Know-Who."

"Dad told you about him?"

"Your father told me many things about this world, including You-Know-Who and his followers and how your mother was tragically killed trying to protect another family."

"Why did he tell you these things? There are rules," he said, a slight bit of attitude lacing his tone.

"Well, you see, when your father and I met I was frantically trying to tell a friend of mine about the strange happenings with Finn. Somehow Finn would manage to obtain cookies without leaving his room, the clock would magically speed up when Finn was in time out, his vegetables would turn to sweets, it was astonishing. I was searching for someone that would understand, who could help and that is when your father came upon me. He kindly told me how he knew of many children going through the same change. I jokingly told him that puberty was a hard thing, and he had laughed back saying it was similar to puberty but not. He told me how Finn would be getting an invitation to a very exclusive special school."

"So then why are you here now? The owls can find your muggle home."

"Burt and I became very close over the past months, and he spoke often of you and his home here nestled in the mountains of Ravena. I admit I had laughed for I had never heard of such mountains, or such a town but he assured me it was here. He told me it was a small town of no more than 500 people, where all the house look the same and each lawn is a perfectly groomed square of green, but you had made your house stand out from all the rest with minor décor."

"I pride myself on that," Kurt told her. "But you've yet to tell me why you're here beyond visiting."

"Your father and I have fallen in love, Kurt, and we wish to solidify this love."

Kurt's eyes narrowed, he knew in his heart that this was the situation, but he had not wanted to hear the words. "When?"

"The weekend after next."

"I see," Kurt whispered, standing from his spot.

"You father thought I should tell you and he should tell Finn so that we can bond. Kurt?"

"I don't want a new mother, I have a mother and her name is Elizabeth Hummel," he declared, running from the living room to the entryway and up the stairs. Once he reached the second floor landing he noted a new room that had not been there before, the door read 'Finn's room' and Kurt had the urge to break the door. He didn't want a new family, he liked the one he had, he liked the memories of his mother. Without a second glance at the new room he ran into his own to relish in his forgotten memories.

He sat on his four poster bed dressed in his mother's old bedding of gold and green-she had looked most marvelous in green-and stared at his walls that showed nothing but moving pictures of his family. The picture closest to his door was of his mother, a small dark haired woman barely out of school, and his father, light haired and strapping, the build of a Quidditch player, they were smiling at each other as they exchanged vows. The next picture over showed the two again, slightly older holding a bundle that was Kurt. Next to that one in a frame of ivory was the last picture Kurt had of him and his mother. They were baking in the picture, the bowl to his mother's right whisked eggs while Kurt sat upon the counter, covered in flour his mother's eyes filled with mirth as she patted him off. Sometimes he tried to imagine what she said to him as she cleaned him, but the voice in his head never seemed right.

After that there were no more pictures of his mother, simply him and his father. Burt attempting to teach Kurt to ride on a toy broom outside in the yard. Kurt's fifth birthday when Burt had bought candles that sang and danced 'happy birthday'. At times Kurt liked to glance at this picture because the dancing candles always made him smile. His dad had tried hard for him, to give him both the father and the mother Kurt longed for. He knew in the back of his mind that's what Burt was trying to do now with marrying Carole, but his heart wasn't ready to let go of his mother. Nor would it ever be.

The morning of the wedding came all to quickly in Kurt's opinion, but sure enough at the crack of dawn their street was alive with their neighbors setting up the tents in the street, placing chairs, and adding decorations.

"Kurt, breakfast," Burt called from the bottom of the stairs. Kurt lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to the voices in the street, Mrs. Haversham yelling as her son joked around, causing a tent to fall. Slowly he climbed from his bed, sliding on his slippers and walking downstairs for breakfast. Only he paused at the foot of the stairs, the picture of his mother smiling at him as she did a twirl. She was so happy, so full of life despite her husband marrying another.

A loud knock on his front door made him jump, that pounding signaling the arrival of only one person. "Come in, Dave," he said through a yawn. The door burst open Dave running in waving parchment in the air.

"I got my letter! I told you! Where's yours?"

Kurt shrugged. "Probably on the table, I thought I heard the post arrive this morning."

Dave's face fell as he looked at his best friend's frown. "Why aren't you excited? We're going to Hogwarts together."

"I know," he nodded, sitting down on the stairs staring again at his mother's picture. "But my dad is getting married today."

"Oh," Dave said, taking a seat next to him. "You don't like her?"

"She's nice, I guess, but what if she changes everything? Nothing has changed since my mom died, but what if she wants to redecorate? What if she wants to take my mom's picture down? What if I go away to school and come back and everything is different?"

With one arm Dave hugged his friend. "Don't worry, Kurt, you just have to have faith that your dad wouldn't let that happen. Now I smell something yummy, so why don't we go into the kitchen and see?" he smiled, standing up and offering his hand. Kurt smiled to the boy, taking his hand and standing up, leading the other 11 year old into the kitchen, where Finn already sat stuffing food into his face, staring at his own Hogwarts letter. "So this means I get to go to magic school, right?"

Kurt shook his head, taking his usual seat, offering Dave the one next to him. "Morning, Dave, see you got your letter," Burt smiled, placing down Kurt's plate, fixing Dave one.

"Yeah, mom was worried for a bit but just a few days ago things started happening. She was so thrilled, said I must have been a late bloomer."

"That's wonderful," Burt smiled, placing down the second plate. "Kurt, your letter came as well."

Kurt returned his father's smile, reaching for his letter, opening it. He may not have been thrilled about the wedding but he wouldn't deny his father the excitement of acceptance to Hogwarts.

Dear Kurt Hummel,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall Deputy Headmistress

He read the letter aloud to his father, handing it to the man who would no doubt want to frame it. "But wait," Finn spoke up, looking at the list of supplies. "Where are we supposed to get all this stuff? This town doesn't have those kinds of shops, right?"

"We'll go to Diagon Alley tomorrow," Burt answered, serving his own plate before sitting down. "You're welcome to come with us Dave."

Dave shook his head, swallowing down his bite of food lest Kurt hit him for being rude. "Mom really wants to take me, she's been waiting for this day. All Will could talk about is what house I'd be in, he's a Ravenclaw, Mom was a Gryffindor and Sammie is a Hufflepuff. Will thinks I should be in Slytherin to complete the set."

"What's that about?" Finn asked, thoroughly confused.

"Their the houses at Hogwarts, you see the seal," Burt pointed out. "Don't worry, it will all be explained at the sorting ceremony, and you won't be alone in your confusion. Muggle-born witches and wizards are very common now-a-days."

"Which house do I want to be in?" Finn asked, looking at the seal.

Kurt shook his head. "I want to be in Gryffindor like my dad was."

"Your mom was a Ravenclaw, everyone on your mom's side of the family were Ravenclaws, smart batch they are. My side is Gryffindors with a couple of Slytherins thrown in, but it doesn't matter which house you're in Kurt, I'll be proud of you no matter what."

"But you have to be in the same house as me," Dave demanded.

"We'll see."

After cleaning his plate Kurt stood, placing the dish in the sink. "Shouldn't you be getting ready for the wedding?" He still wasn't overjoyed about the idea but he'd rather his father not be late.

"Just give me a moment," Burt told him, hurrying to finish the eggs.

"Finn and I will wash the dishes, you go get ready. Wear the new dress robes you got, not Grandpa's dress robes, I know they're special but they also smell like an owlery."

Burt shook his head, standing up to kiss his son's forehead. "Don't take to long, you have to get ready too."

"Dave, can help us too."

"No can do," Dave denied. "Have to run home and help mom."

"Liar, you're just allergic to chores," Kurt glared.

With a shrug Dave stood up, leaving his plate on the table before literally running home for whatever imaginary task his mom assigned him. Finn stood from his spot, grabbing Dave's plate bringing it to the sink. "I thought you had magic to clean the dishes."

"Dad's not great with house cleaning spells, things tend to not get fully clean. I can just wash by hand till we get a dishwasher or I come of age."

"I love dishwashers, we just got one and they're so much easier than washing by hand. We just put the dishes in and let the machine do all the work."

Kurt blinked looking up at him. "What are you talking about?"

"Dishwashers! You know, the ones you put in the counter, and have the racks and stuff," he answered, miming with his hands where a dishwasher would be located. Kurt shook his head, filling the basin with water, putting the dishes in.

"A dishwasher is a brush imbued with magic that washes the dishes for us. We had one before but the magic in them only lasts so long. I'll have to remind dad to pick up a new one tomorrow while we're in Diagon Alley," Kurt explained, washing and rinsing the plates. "Dry these off," he ordered, handing a plate to Finn, pointing to the dishrag on the counter.

Finn took the plate, delicately drying it off, placing it down. "So, is that your mom, in the entryway?"


"She was pretty."

"Thank you."



"What do you really think about this wedding?" Finn asked, drying another plate as Kurt handed it to him.

"To be honest, I have a mother, I don't need a new one. No offense, I'm sure your mother is lovely, and she seems nice but I have a mother."

"I thought that too at first, about my dad, but really Burt isn't replacing my old dad, he's just, filling the hole in my mom's heart."


"Like, when dad died all those years ago mom was probably really sad. All she had was me, and I was just a baby. She's gone 11 years being all alone, working hard every day to give me a home, and food, and to make me happy, but she's never really been happy. I mean, she's been happy but she's lonely, and since Burt has been around mom has been really happy and upbeat and if I get to see mom like that all the time then I'm happy for her, and I know my dad would be too.

And you know, my mom would never want to take your mom away. I even heard her telling Burt she'd like to keep the picture of your mom where it is, and only put up wedding pictures in their room so you wouldn't be upset."

"I want dad to be happy, and I think my mom would want him to be happy too, but I don't want to lose the tiny piece of my mother I have left. It's not much, but I remember a warm feeling, I think it was when she held me. I can't remember her voice, I barely remember her smell, but every now and then I sneak into my dad's room and open her old wardrobe and just, smell her. What if I lose all that?" Kurt frowned, handing Finn the last plate, draining the basin.

"My mom won't let you, I promise. Mom knows how important memories are. She promised I could keep my dad's old rocking chair and chest in my new room as keepsakes. Small memories are the most important right? Mom wouldn't want you to think you're losing a mom so much as gaining as second one, two people that love you, plus you get a brother; me!"

Kurt looked down at the floor, a rumble of laughter make its way from his chest. "Yes, I guess you're right. Come on, we bought dress robes for you too. This will be your first taste of wizardry dress."

Wizard and witches of all ages took their seats in the folding chairs lined up along the aisle. Fairy lights drifted above in the darkening sky. Enchanted flutes and harps played a dulcet melody as the group waited for the bride to appear. Burt stood by the handmade wedding arch, fairies sitting upon the roses, lighting them up with sparkles of magic. Kurt stood to his left, all serious, and straight faced, Burt had the urge to tickle his son, just to gain a smile.

The music picked up slightly, alerting the crowd to the arrival of the bride, who stood waiting at the end of the red carpet laid over the cobblestone. The crowd stood, smiling at the bride in white who was a picture of perfection. The dressed hugged her just right with streams of pale blue threaded through the strapless bodice, giving the appearance of water waves. Her skirt was a flowing pure white that stopped at the ground with no train. Her son, half her height, stood to her left, arm hooked in hers ready to walk her down the aisle and give her away. Finn smiled largely, making sure everyone took in his finely pressed dress robes, even making a motion of pointing them out.

"We need to walk down the aisle, Finn," Carole laughed, urging her son forward.

"Right," he flushed, springing into action, slowly walking down the aisle to the beat of the music playing. He walked down the aisle, steps muffled by the carpet, eyes on the fairies floating above. "So pretty."

Carole smiled at her son, happy she had brought him here, happy he was part of a new world; part of a new family.

They reached the arch, Burt accepting Carole's arm. "Take care of my mom," Finn smiled, going to stand off to the side. Burt gave him a nod, bringing his bride to stand in front of the officiator. The graying wizard placed his wand to his throat, as if he needed to be loud enough for the muggle town over to hear. He spoke in monotone, going through the paces of a standard wedding. Kurt almost had the urge to kick him and urge him to do it right, but resisted, this wasn't about him it was about his dad, and the smile on his dad's face was unmistakable. Fine, if Carole made his dad happy then he could be happy for his dad.

When the man was done talking the couple leaned forward sealing the vow with a kiss to thunderous cheers. Arm in arm they walked down the aisle in step, the crowd following to the reception tent ready for the party to start. They filed in, the fairies following, lighting the tent for the celebration. A new band of instruments started playing, a slow song filling the space for the bride and groom's first dance. Burt led Carole onto the dance floor, pulling her into a slow messy waltz. Their guests applauded before joining them on the floor.

"Can I have a dance?" Dave asked, Kurt taking his hand to dance. As Kurt looked around at all the people celebrating his father, celebrating his new mother he figured it wasn't such a bad situation. They were all like his family, and they'd never let Carole take his mom away and they would all insure Burt was happy. So Kurt could go to Hogwarts and he could be happy, and happy he would be, no matter what.

The bricks slid apart forming an arch into the magical shopping strip known as Diagon Alley. Finn's eyes lit up in amazement, his mother keeping a firm grip on his hand so he would not run off. "Where should we start?" Carole asked, her eyes searching across the colors and overall magic of the place.

"The boys will need wands."

"Why can't I have mom's old wand?"

"Because your mom has her wand, Kurt, and I think that's where it belongs," Burt answered, leading his family into the fray, the wall closing behind them. "We'll start at Ollivander's and then go over to Madam Malkin's to get the boys fitted for their robes."

"Ollivander's? What's Ollivander's?" Finn asked, tugging on his mom's hand as if to get away."It's a wand shop," Kurt sighed with a roll of his eyes. Burt chuckled at his sons pulling them through the crowd to the dusty shop that declared in peeling letters: Ollivander's: Maker of Fine wands since 382 B.C.

"Wow, how old is he that's he's been making wands since-" Finn stopped, looking up to do the math. "-a really long time ago?" he questioned, entering the shop behind his mother, his eyes immediately roaming everywhere the shop had to offer. Kurt only had one thought on his mind, a nice dusting spell was in order.

"Welcome," Mr. Ollivander greeted, stepping out from behind his shelves, grey hair all a mess. Silver eyes scanned over Kurt first then Finn before the man turned, examining his shelves. Slowly he pulled one box from the shelf before moving down, looking over labels before pulling a second. He returned, setting the boxes down opening the red box he'd pulled first, pulling out the wand within, handing it to Kurt.

Delicately, Kurt took hold of the end, shaking his head. "No, doesn't feel right," he said immediately. Ollivander looked him over, taking the wand back, placing it back in its holding before returning to the shelf. Looking thoughtful for a moment he pulled a black box off the shelf, opening the lid and pushing the silk aside.

"How about this? 8 ¼ inches, holly, unicorn hair core," he told Kurt, holding the wand out.

Kurt wrapped his hand around the decorative vine handle, smiling as he felt that instant connection between wand and wizard. "This one," he agreed. "My mom's wand was holly too."

"Your mother? Elizabeth Hummel, correct? You look quite like her. Yes, I remember, Holly wand, dragon heart string core, 9 inches," he rambled off, taking the wand back from Kurt, placing it back in its box for wrapping. He placed the box aside, moving over to Finn opening the blue box he had brought down for Finn.

Finn took the wand as it was handed to him, looking at it. "What do I do? How does it work?"

"Does it feel right?" Kurt questioned.

"I don't know," Finn answered, shaking the wand sending sparks flying out the end, Kurt ducking as the sparks flew over his head shattering a mirror. "Opps," he flushed, putting the wand down.

"Happens all the time," Ollivander sighed, going back to his shelves looking over the boxes. Pulling his ladder over he climbed up, scanning labels with his fingers. After a few moments he settled on a brown box, blowing the dust off he brought it back down. "Try this."

Finn took the slightly crooked wand, smiling. "Oh, tingly."

"10 ½ inches, yew, thestral tail hair," Mr. Ollivander nodded, taking the wand back, placing it back in the box before taking both wands to be wrapped in brown paper. Burt dug in his pocket, pulling the money out to pay.

"Everyone carries their own packages," he said, handing the galleons over as Mr. Ollivander returned. Finn took his wand excitedly, holding it to his chest, while Kurt took hold of the strings, thanking the man.

Madam Malkin's was the next stop and saw more of jumpy Finn as he could barely keep still as the witch pinned his robes. Kurt was dragged along, literally, by his new step-brother who was more than eager to travel to shop to shop gathering his school supplies. Even when their arms were full with books, a cauldron, phials, and scales Finn still ran amuck wanting more and more.

"I want a broom!" Finn exclaimed, pressing his nose to the window display of Broomstix, staring at the new Nimbus 2000.

"First years aren't allowed a broom," Kurt told him in a 'it was on the letter' tone. "Come on, dad is over at Eeylops."

"But I want a broom!"

"Dad runs a repair shop, you can use one of the repairs at home, now come on," Kurt demanded, pulling the giant of a brother towards the owl emporium. His father and Carole caught sight of them, waving them over to where they stood talking with the sales witch.

"We were thinking you boys could use an owl," Burt told them. "And we've narrowed down the options to two and thought you'd boys would like to pick."

The sales witch led them over to two cages. The one on the right held a medium sized snowy owl, which hid it's head under its wing in sleep. The cage on the left held a brown tawny owl which had its beak turned up at them, as if he were better than the wizards looking to buy him. This owl caught Kurt's attention, he was a small owl, brown and white with just a spot of yellow going from beak to forehead. His eyes were a deep navy blue that kept peering at Kurt, daring him to make a move towards him. He was a proud and well kept owl, not one feather out of place and Kurt wanted him.

"This one!" Kurt declared, the owl briefly glancing at him.

"No, I like the white one," Finn cried, poking at the sleeping owl which scooted away from him.

"No, I like this one," Kurt glared, looking at the tawny owl again.

"We just got this little one not to long ago, prim little thing, isn't he? Kind of a tough sell since he likes to bite people and refuses treats."

"He reminded me of you when you were a babe, Kurt, that's why I picked him," Burt smiled, placing his hand on Kurt's shoulder.

"Well, I want him."

"But I want this one," Finn whined, poking at the owl who was now pecking his finger every time he did. "He's spunky."

"We could get both owls," Carole offered. "So everyone is happy, and Finn could use the lesson in responsibility."

Digging into his pocket Burt pulled out his money sack, looking inside to see how many galleons he had left. "Alright, we'll take both," he smiled, walking over with her to pay for the owls.

Kurt smiled at his owl, carefully sliding his finger between the bars to stroke his beak. The owl allowed it for a moment before moving away to the other side of the cage, turning his beak up once again. "Let's go, boys," Burt called, picking up the tawny owl's cage. The small owl immediately puffed up in anger, screeching at him.

"I'll carry him," Kurt offered, handing off his parcels to his father, picking up the cage. The small owl calmed down, beak still turned up, but calm with Kurt handling his cage. "I think I'll name you Pavarotti," he smiled at the owl, the owl looking down at him, blinking. "Do you like that?"

"I'm going to name mine Owly," Finn declared, bouncing along side his mother who was holding his owl.

"That's stupid," Kurt told him.

"Owly would be better than Paviratti," argued Finn, looking at his owl. "I'll name her Drizzle!"

"That's a stupid name."

"Kurt's a stupid name."

"You're stupid."

Burt shook his head. Boys.