AN/ Okay, I'm officially back in action! I'm deeply sorry that I was away for so long, but I had an opportunity to work abroad for six months and ever since I got back I've been really lazy. So yeah, big apologies. I hope that people are still going to bother reading this, as my updates should be fairly regular now. I missed you bitches and your ego jacking comments. Hugs!

I made this chapter a fun one, just to get back into the swing of things, but there will be more party revelations in the next one, and I promise that Holly Holiday will finally turn up.

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or Harry Potter, which is a shame, because I'm a little bit in love with more than a few of the Glee boys.

Sometimes Harry wondered why he was such a giving and generous person. Here he was, driving through the middle of nowhere, when he should be at home sleeping off whatever the hell he'd been drinking last night, and all because his so called friends had been dumb enough to get on a train whilst they were hammered out of their minds.

When he'd gotten a call earlier that morning from a frantic sounding Mike, asking him if he could come and get him and Artie from some hick town three hours away, Harry had quickly leapt at the chance to escape his apartment. Unfortunately, he hadn't planned on his passengers being so whiny.

''Will you guys shut the fuck up? Your hysterical sobbing is really starting to get on my nerves.'' Harry snapped, breaking the tension in the car.

From the back seat, Mike raised his eyes from their fixation on his lap. The usually pleasant dark orbs were currently blown wide with fear and adrenaline, and his hands were gripping his jeans so tightly that the knuckles were white. Artie looked to be even worse off, with his face streaked by tears and his hair missing a clump, most likely torn out in his state of panic.

''We're getting on your nerves?'' Artie repeated weakly.

Harry nodded vigorously, with obvious irritation. ''Well yeah. I mean grow the fuck up, it wasn't that bad. You guys still have all your limbs don't you?'' He questioned.

''Wasn't that bad?'' Artie echoed him again, with rising indignation.

''Exactly! It wasn't that bad.'' Harry agreed obliviously. ''In fact, it was pretty funny if you think about it.''

Apparently that statement proved to be too much for Mike, who finally snapped out of his residual shock.

''Funny? Funny!? We were almost shot by drug dealers!'' The Asian teen exploded angrily.

Harry scoffed with derision. ''Calm down, drama queen. I had everything under control.'' He reassured them. ''And besides, it was your fault for stealing their cocaine.''

''For the last time, we didn't steal anything! I don't even know where it came from.'' Mike denied defensively.

''Well, my Spanish is slightly rusty, but according to that bald guy with the tattoos, you guys agreed to smuggle their stash to Mexico last night.'' Harry explained for them. ''They wouldn't have tracked you down and threatened to blow out your kneecaps, if you hadn't tried to run off with their product.''

''We don't even remember agreeing to that!'' Mike protested.

''Yeah, it wasn't our fault. It's your fault for making us drink those messed up cocktails last night!'' Artie agreed.

That was news to Harry, but at least it explained why he couldn't remember much of the previous evening. If Mike, Artie and Luna were all having memory problems as well, then that meant that he'd most likely whipped up a batch of Obliviators. His father and godfather had come up with the rather potent alcoholic concoction during their school days, and the recipe had been passed down to Harry. Obliviators were delicious, gave you an amazing buzz, and were the most awesome shade of blue, but unfortunately they had the side effect of giving people temporary memory loss. But that was part of the fun. During his last year at Hogwarts he'd attended many a Gryffindor house party, and then been left to slowly piece together the events that transpired. He still fondly recalled sitting in Snape's Chemistry class and suddenly regaining the memory of having a foursome with Seamus the Patil twins. Good times.

''Okay, I'm sorry I got you guys wasted. But you can't really be mad at me. After all, there comes a time in every young man's life when angry, Hispanic, cocaine smugglers, try to bust a cap in your ass. It's a right of passage, much like losing your virginity or punching a transsexual stripper.-''

Mike crinkled his nose with confusion, but before he could question that bizarre assertion, Artie slapped a hand over his mouth. ''Dude, please don't ask him what he meant by that. I'm pretty sure my psyche can't handle one of his mentally scarring anecdotes right now.'' The bespectacled boy whispered pleadingly in his ear, whilst Harry continued unabatedly, completely missing the comment.

''-And let's not forget that I drove all the way out here and saved your sorry asses.'' The green eyed teen carried on.

That was true. When the two of them had woken up on a train in a small town named Kansas, with no idea how they'd gotten there, they had immediately started panicking. To add confusion to their panic, they also found a mysterious bag of flour in the side pocket of Artie's wheelchair. They hadn't been able to call their parents, because they'd no doubt find themselves in deep shit, and neither of them had been able to get a hold of Finn or Puck. Fortunately Harry had answered his phone and agreed to come and get them, otherwise they'd have been stuck there.

Unfortunately, about ten minutes after they'd called him, they were dragged off the street by a group of thugs with a very intimidating amount of muscle mass and a lack of ability to speak English. It was then that they discovered that what they had believed to be a bag of flour was actually cocaine, which had led to a massive freak out on their part.

Luckily for them, Harry had somehow managed to track them down, and even more luckily happened to speak Spanish. The other boy was able to quickly diffuse the situation, despite the fact that he'd had three guns pointed at his head. All he'd done was ramble a few sentences and pull down the collar of his shirt, and suddenly the gang had been eager to let them go.

''How did you manage to talk us out of that anyway? Neither of us speak Spanish, but whatever you said got those guys to back off pretty damn fast.'' Artie recalled curiously.

Harry coughed awkwardly at the question, but kept his eyes fixed on the road ahead. Mike and Artie exchanged looks of disbelief at the unusual behaviour.

''Seriously dude, what the hell did you say to them? And why did you pull down your shirt?'' Mike asked suspiciously.

Harry's back had been facing them when he had done so, but whatever the gangsters had seen when he'd pulled his collar down had definitely freaked them out.

''It's nothing, just a small tattoo I got a couple of years ago.'' Harry quickly assured them.

Artie perked up at that information. ''You have a tattoo?'' He queried.

Now that he thought about it, he vaguely recalled noticing something on Harry's chest during his impromptu strip routine the night before. Before Harry could answer Artie's question however, the bespectacled boy quickly asked him another one.

''Hold on, why the hell would a tattoo make them back off?'' He suddenly wondered, whilst trading another sceptical glance with Mike.

Harry sighed exasperatedly. ''It wasn't the tattoo, it was what I said to them. I basically told them that you guys were cool and that the whole situation was just a big misunderstanding. Then, when they questioned our awesomeness, I decided to flash them my ink. End of story.'' He told them.

There was something about that explanation that didn't quite add up, but neither of them could put their fingers on it, so they decided to let it go for now.

''I hope that it really is the end of the story, coz let's face it, most your anecdotes never seem to end very well.'' Mike quipped, diffusing what had slowly been becoming a tense atmosphere.

Harry looked over his shoulder and speared him with a glare. ''Hey, don't disrespect my anecdotes! I'll have you know that all of my stories are not only well crafted, but they also carry important moral messages.'' He spoke out in protest.

Mike raised a sceptical eyebrow, in a manner eerily reminiscent of the boy he was currently using it on.

''Moral messages?'' He quoted. ''What 'moral messages'? Last night you told us about the time you got a concussion from a failed attempt at bungee jumping with a belt, and hallucinated having sex with a male nurse that you mistook to be Jensen Ackles. What was the moral of that story supposed to be?'' He demanded.

Harry paused for a moment, taking his time to think up a suitable answer. ''Hmm, I thy fellow man?'' He finally suggested.

After a second of consideration, Artie spoke up in the British teen's defence. ''He's kind of got ya there dude.''

Harry preened with noticeable smugness at the vote of confidence.

''You see? My reasoning and moral calibre are both without flaw!'' He crowed triumphantly. ''But, whilst we're still on the subject of good stories, I still have to tell you guys about what happened to me this morning.''

''First of all, there's been Nazi internment camps with more moral calibre than you. And secondly, I'm pretty sure that neither of us wants to hear whatever you're about to say, because it's bound to be traumatising.'' Mike quickly asserted, which Harry found to be vaguely insulting. He'd been meaning to tell them about his morning drama ever since he'd picked them up, but trifling distractions such as potential gunshot wounds managed to get in the way.

''Yeah, I'm gonna have to agree with Mike on this. Most of your stories do border on perverse and inappropriate topics.'' Artie pointed out.

Harry scowled at the summation of his abilities as a narrator, but he did have to admit that some of his tales, very, very rarely, included x-rated material. But if those two bastards wanted to use him as a taxi service, then he'd make damn sure that they listened to his inane ramblings.

''Perhaps I haven't made myself clear. First of all, my car, my rules. Second of all, this is a story about yours truly, so it's bound to be full of whimsy and wonder. And thirdly, I can easily reach the cigarette lighter in the dashboard from here, so you can either shut the fuck up and humour me or find out whether I can drive and maim you at the same time. What's it going to be?''

There was an exaggerated pause, as the boys debated the pros and cons of being physically burned or mentally violated, but in the end they gave in and resigned themselves to their fate.

''Okay, fine, tell us what happened.'' Mike relented with a sigh.

Harry stopped in his attempt to eject the lighter from the car and instantly perked up.

''Hooray! I knew you guys would come around.'' He cooed excitedly. ''Now then, my tale begins when I awoke this morning to find two people in my bed.''

''Stop right there!'' Mike commanded, earning himself a scathing glare for his rude interruption. ''You promised us whimsy and wonder, but I can already tell that we're about to get sleaze and depravity.''

''Too late now suckers, if I stop a story without finishing it then I get seven years bad luck.'' Harry told them.

The boys in the back seat exchanged bewildered looks.

''Um, I think you're thinking of what happens when you break a mirror.'' Artie corrected him.

Harry frowned sceptically, whilst eyeing them in the rear view mirror, searching their faces for signs of deception. But, after not finding anything amiss, he finally decided to take their word for it.

''Are you sure?'' He questioned.

They both nodded solemnly.

''Huh, well that blows. Unless...wait,what if I break a mirror using someone else's face? Coz technically that's their fault, not mine. Which would mean that they get seven years bad luck.''

Mike's eyes widened at the British boy's theory, and he fixed Artie with an accusing glare.

''Smooth move, dumb ass. Why did you have to tell him that? Now he's figured out how to simultaneously disfigure someone and give them a seven year curse of misfortune.'' He chastised the other boy.

Artie decided that there was really only one response to that.

''Harry? If you promise not to use mirrors for evil, then we'll listen to the rest of your story.''

Harry smiled smugly.

''I make no such promise, but I'll be happy to finish my little tale. Now, it went something like this.''

(Harry's apartment, four hours ago)

''Oh bugger.''

Harry was somewhat accustomed to waking up in strange and embarrassing circumstances, and was well practised in dealing with any fallout from his drunken antics. Most of his problems usually came one at a time however, but this morning he appeared to have two of them, both of which happened to be occupying his bed.

Whoever came up with the phrase 'Everything will look better in the morning' deserved to be flayed alive and given a full body massage with lemon juice and vinegar, because clearly they were a lying twat.

After a moment of silent contemplation, during which Harry pinched himself in a futile attempt to dispel the horrible illusion before him, he finally decided to address the most disturbing of the two issues first.

''Aunt Sue, what the hell are you doing in my bed?'' He demanded, glaring daggers at the woman's head, which was poking innocently out of the covers.

The cheerleading coach looked supremely unconcerned at being found in her pseudo-nephew's sleeping space, and with a snort of contempt the woman whipped back the quilt, revealing herself to be fully dressed in her standard red tracksuit, much to Harry's relief.

''I came to return that drooling faecal factory that you call a godson.'' She explained, seemingly uncaring of the teenager's current state of undress or the presence of the third person in his bed. ''Naturally, after finding you unconscious, I took the opportunity to scar you for life.''

''Well it worked!'' Harry snapped. ''The sight of your head on my pillow just aged me ten years!''

''Outstanding, then my work here is almost complete.'' Sue gleefully enthused.

''It was like something out of the Godfather!'' Harry continued unabated. ''Only a horse's head probably would've been preferable in this instance.''

His aunt ignored his complaints, as he flew off into a full blown rant about the invasion of his personal space, and instead she started searching her pockets for something. Harry failed to notice this due to his diatribe, and could only to blink in surprise when she quickly extracted a phone and pointed it at him.

''Now what the hell are you doing?'' He demanded.

''Taking pictures of you.'' She brightly informed him.

''Why?'' Harry queried, silently dreading the answer.

''To frame Schuester for child pornography.''

Harry raised an eyebrow at that, and continued ignoring the other person in the bed in favour of the mentally unstable blonde woman with a camera.

''How will you taking snapshots of me get Mr Schue in trouble?'' He inquired.

''Because this is his phone.'' Sue revealed cheerfully, whilst glancing absently at her wristwatch. ''Speaking of which, It's almost eleven o'clock, I'd better get this back on his night stand before the chloroform wears off.''

Harry sighed in suffering and massaged his temples. Exposure to Sue Sylvester this early in the morning was not a pleasant experience, especially when combined with a hangover. And he really didn't want to think about her reasons for drugging his Spanish teacher.

''Okay that explains your presence here...sort of. But who the fuck is the unfamiliar man in my bed, and what the hell is he doing here?'' Harry growled, pointing at the middle aged and thoroughly creepy looking individual that was currently sprawled out on his mattress. Fortunately he was fully clothed, or Harry might have actually vomited.

''Oh, him?'' Sue blinked, as if suddenly noticing the man's presence. ''He's one of the many stooges I've recruited for my new and improved evil organisation. I used him to carry the brat back here for me.''

The man apparently took this as a positive acknowledgement, as he quickly hopped out of the bed with a cheerful grin.

Harry eyed him warily for a moment. It wasn't exactly unheard of for his aunt to drag strangers into her schemes, but he couldn't help but think that he'd seen the man somewhere before. He was fairly unremarkable though, all things considered. He was short and balding, with a pair of spectacles perched on the end of his nose, covering watery blue eyes that were doing a terrible job of staying above Harry's waistline.

''Hang on a sec, I recognise you!'' Harry abruptly realised, pointing at him in shock. ''You're that old perv that sells weed to impressionable kids outside Wallmart!''

The man beamed at him.

''Ah, you're familiar with my work? It's a pleasure to meet you young man. I'm Sandy Ryerson, also known as...the Pink Dagger.'' He introduced, with a barely concealed leer at Harry's unclothed form.

Harry grinned back at him.

''Hi there! I'm Harry Potter, and this is a punch in the crotch.''

Sandy barely had time to blink, before he found himself doubled over in pain with the air knocked out of him. He whimpered pitifully and slumped to the ground, clutching his now aching groin.

''If you ever spoon me while I'm sleeping again, then I'll pluck out your eyeballs and skull fuck the bleeding craters with a snooker cue.'' Harry sneered at his crumpled body.

He was about to turn his attention back to Sue, when another piece of relevant information popped into his mind.

''Hold on, did you just say that you let this sleaze bag carry my godson?'' He snarled, whipping around to face his aunt and pointing at Sandy's whimpering form.

''Ofcourse I did. I wasn't going to carry a baby around in broad daylight.'' Sue defended herself. ''I have a reputation to uphold after all.''

The look that he gave her for that was so vicious that she actually took a wary step towards the door. She knew for a fact that her nephew kept a fully functional power drill under his bed, and she'd rather not take her chances while unarmed.

''You have ten seconds to get the fuck out of my apartment, before I pick this twat up by the ankles and beat you with him.'' He told her furiously, whilst gesturing at the man laying at his feet.

He then made a threatening motion at her with his hands, before stumbling back over to the bed and slumping face first onto the covers. Her only answer to his threat was the tell tale click of Mr Schuester's phone going off yet again.

''….Did you just take a snapshot of my bare ass?'' Harry demanded without looking up at her.

''No comment.'' Sue told him, completely ignoring his question as she quickly breezed out of the room, dragging the dazed Mr. Ryerson in her wake by his ankle.

''Thanks for stopping by!'' Harry called after her.

''You act like it's the first time I've let a marijuana selling paedophile into your home while you were sleeping.'' She yelled back, slamming the bedroom door behind her.

Harry frowned at the doorway for a moment, before throwing himself back down on the bed with a huff. He decided that he really needed to install a better security system. Maybe some bear traps would help keep the insufferable woman out of his home? He was just contemplating changing his sheets- because fuck knows where that Ryerson guy had been - when a loud squalling noise started coming from the living room.

''Teddy!'' Harry whined piteously. ''It's too early for babies and unstable cheerleading coaches.''

His protests went unheeded however, as the infant continued to cry for attention, so Harry unwillingly dragged himself out of bed with a groan of suffering. After slinging on a pair of sweatpants, he swung open the bedroom door and made his way into the living room. Teddy was sat innocently in his playpen, looking none the worse for wear -much to his Godfather's private relief- and he immediately stopped crying as soon as Harry came into sight. The baby blinked innocently up at him for a moment, before raising his little arms expectantly.

''You want to be carried?'' Harry inquired sceptically.

Teddy yawned cutely in response, prompting the teenager to swoop down and snatch him up for a cuddle.

''I don't suppose you'd be willing to let me go back to bed?'' He asked him.

A stream of nonsensical baby speech was his only answer.

''I guess that's a no then?'' Harry supposed. Although, he probably deserved it for leaving the little bugger with his Aunt Sue and her creepy new minion. Actually, now that he thought about it, the fact that Sue was recruiting new lackeys was rather suspicious. He made a mental note to have Hermione research this Ryerson character later.

Teddy had apparently noticed that his godfather's attention had wandered, as he began insistently slapping him in the face. Harry balked at the sudden abuse.

'' Oi, stop that you little bugger.'' He warned the infant, only to receive a full blast gaze of puppy dog eyes in response.

Harry sighed fondly. ''What am I gonna do with you Teddy-bear?'' He mused. ''You're not even two yet, but you're already bending people to your will aren't you? Who's uncle Harry's best boy, huh?''

''Hawwa!'' Teddy squealed.

Harry froze. That had almost sounded like his name, which was impossible, because that would make his name Teddy's first real word. And if his name was Teddy's first word then he might be forced to do something emotional and sappy about it.

''Come again?''

''Hawwa!'' The baby happily repeated.

''Oh my god.'' Harry gasped in stunned disbelief. ''You just said my name!''

The teenager laughed with a rare exuberance, bouncing the infant happily in his arms, much to the baby's' delight. After a moment of contemplation he quickly made his way over to the phone. He had to tell Andromeda about this immediately, and rub his awesome child rearing skills in her face.

''This is great! I can't wait to see the look on your grandmother's face when she hears that you clearly love me the most. That's really gonna stick in her craw.'' Harry crowed.

He was just reaching for the phone when he accidentally knocked it out of it's cradle.

''Oh shit.'' The curse left his lips without thought as he knelt down to pick it up, which was unfortunate given his current audience.


Harry tripped mid-step, almost dropping the baby in his arms. He eyed the little boy with a sudden wariness, even as the babe stared back at him clearly waiting for more praise.

''What did you just say love?''

''Shi!'' Teddy chirped.

Harry gaped.

''No! Teddy honey, you can't say shit!''


''Oh fuck.''


''Damn it! You were so much cuter before you became a verbose monster.'' Harry lamented bitterly, as he contemplated this new development. ''Now, who should we blame for the fact that you're already swearing?''

''Hawwa!'' Teddy blurted.

''No sweetheart, someone other than me.'' Harry requested. ''Any other suggestions?''


The teenager sighed.

''This is gonna be a long day.''

Harry's prediction quickly proved itself true, as not even two minutes later Luna came skipping through the front door holding a particularly decorative vase. The girl paused at the sight of him and cocked her head to the side.

''What are you doing up before noon?'' She questioned curiously.

''Bonding with my godson, and throwing my aunt and her sleazy minion out of my house. How about you?''

Luna shrugged.

''I'm not entirely certain, but I think that I may have just robbed someone.'' She responded, sounding more confused than concerned.

Harry blinked. ''So you woke up and got stolen goods, and all I got was a swearing baby in my living room and a middle aged relative with boundary issues in my bed?''

''It would appear so.'' Luna acknowledged, completely ignoring the swearing baby comment.

Harry shifted the little boy on his hip and opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the ringing of his land line. He and Luna exchanged glances of confusion, until the blonde shrugged and pranced over to the device, she then plucked it from it's cradle and placed it obediently against Harry's ear.

''Thank you darling.'' He told her, before turning his attention to whoever was on the phone. ''Harry's Meat Factory, what's your beef?''

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the call as the person processed that greeting, before they finally spoke up.

''Hey bitch, guess what I did last night?'' Santana's triumphant voice echoed down the line.

(Current time, Harry's car.)

''Hold on, wait a minute. Can we go back to the part where Luna robbed someone?'' Artie interrupted.

Harry frowned.

''You mean that thing with the urn?'' He asked.

''An urn? I thought you said it was a vase?'' Artie queried incredulously.

''Well we thought it was, until we found out that it was filled with ashes and had a loving tribute to somebodies grandmother engraved on the side.'' Harry admitted.

''She stole someone's dead grandmother?'' Mike clarified with mounting horror.

''Stole is such a strong word. We prefer liberated. Either way, we'll find out how the old crone feels about it when we summon her ghost later tonight.'' Harry really hoped they made it home in good time. Luna always did the best seances. ''Anyway, the urn isn't important.'' He insisted.

''Yeah, you're right. Let's talk about Coach Sylvester letting strangers in your bed, and why you thought it was a good idea to leave a baby with her.'' Artie suggested.

Harry waved a hand and shushed him. ''Shut up and let me finish my story!'' He demanded.

There was a moment of silence as the two boys obeyed him and waited quietly for him to continue. As the silence stretched on however, Mike decided to speak up.

''You forgot where you were in the story, didn't you?''


(Harry's Apartment, earlier that morning.)

''Make it quick Satan, because I've got a cussing baby in my arms, and unless my eyes deceive me, Luna appears to be carrying a jar full of someone's incinerated relative.'' Harry spoke hurriedly into the phone, whilst eyeing the calligraphy on the side of Luna's new 'vase'.

''Wow, someone's bitchy this morning.'' Santana commented.

''Just get to the point. Is this about that video we posted on Youtube last night of the two of us singing Rhianna's S&M?'' He demanded. ''Because we totally rocked that.''

Santana scoffed. ''Ofcourse we did, that's why It's already gotten like a hundred thousand hits.''

Harry blinked, but in retrospect he probably shouldn't be too surprised by that information. Take two smoking hot teenagers with awesome voices, and make them dance around in minimal clothing, and you were guaranteed to get a successful video.

''So what the hell do you want?'' He asked somewhat suspiciously.

''I just wanted to let you know what I got up to last night.'' She assured him slyly. ''In fact, I've sent you a little picture just in case your imagination isn't up to the task.''

Harry frowned. Clearly Santana was trying to be mysterious, and he wasn't sure if that was a good thing. Whatever she'd gotten up to had obviously left her in a good mood, which meant that it was probably bad for someone else.

''Okay, spill it. What happened?'' He demanded.

Santana chuckled and he could practically hear her licking her lips. ''Just check the pic and you'll find out.'' She told him.

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off before he could.

''Catch ya later stud.''

As the call abruptly disconnected, Harry replaced the handset with a look of bemusement on his face. He was betting that she had done one of three things. A, slept with someone unexpected. B, gotten someone fired without him. Or C, finally gotten a snapshot herself punching Celine Dion, who Santana believed to be a 'Show-boating fame hag'.

''What did Sanny want?'' Luna inquired, as she plonked herself down on the couch and began inspecting the contents of the jar in her hand.

''She sent me a picture of something.'' Harry absently explained, as he began searching for his phone.

''Did she finally punch Celine Dion?'' She asked him.

''That's my third guess, but I'm personally betting that she got that fat chick fired from KFC.'' He responded.

He suddenly remembered that he'd noticed his mobile on the night-stand when he woke up, and after passing Teddy off to Luna he went to retrieve it. He realized something however, as he turned his back on the girl.

''Luna, don't give the baby any ashes of deceased senior citizens.'' Harry called out absently, as he began looking around his bedroom. The silence in the living room and Teddy's whine of disappointment let Harry know that his guess had been accurate.

After finding his phone, Harry checked his messages and confirmed that he had one from Santana. He was about to open it when Luna interrupted.

''Haribo, Teddy keeps saying 'she'. I think he deserves presents for accurately identifying my gender. Let's go shopping!'' She suggested, skipping into the room.

''Sorry to burst your bubble Lu, but he's actually trying to say 'shit'.'' Harry informed her.

The blonde's eyes widened with shock. ''Oh my goodness!'' She gasped. ''His pronunciation is awful.''

''I know.'' Harry commiserated. ''He's not even enunciating the 'T'.''

Truthfully he probably shouldn't have let his godbaby start swearing in the first place, but he would be damned if he let him out in public whilst swearing incorrectly. That would just be embarrassing.

''He can say my name too, can't you Teddy bear? Say Harry.'' Teddy looked up at him at the sound of his prompting, but showed no indication of complying with his request. ''Come on, say my name.'' Harry cooed.

''Hawwa.'' He finally repeated.

''See? I told you so!'' Harry cheered. ''He's a genius...although his accent could use some refinement.''

Luna nodded in agreement, before leaning over to look at the blank screen of his phone.

''So what did Sanny send you?'' She reminded him.

Harry blinked. ''Oh yeah, almost forgot.'' He was just about to open the picture, when the phone in his hand started vibrating.

(Present time, Harry's car)

''And that's when you guys rang me, begging for salvation.'' Harry told them.

Artie cocked his head in confusion. '' what was the point of the story?'' He asked.

''The picture ofcourse.''

''What was the picture of?'' Mike inquired eagerly.

''See for yourself.'' Harry offered, holding out his phone for the other boy.

The aspiring dancer quickly grabbed the device and began searching through it. It didn't take long to find the most recent picture message from Santana so he quickly opened it, only to drop the phone in stunned disbelief at the image within.


Artie observed his Asian friend's reaction with interest, as the other boy seemed to have completely shut down. There was even a trail of drool dripping from the corner of his mouth. After a moments hesitation, he reached over and picked up the fallen phone to take a look for himself.

''Holy shitballs!''

Harry cackled in the front seat as both of them slipped into what looked like temporary comas. If only Artie wasn't holding his phone, then he most likely would've taken a picture of their reactions. The image that had rendered them temporarily incapacitated was turning out to be an even more potent weapon than he'd originally foreseen.

Mike finally managed to string his words together well enough to form a coherent sentence. ''Was that Quinn?'' He blurted.

''Yes indeed.'' Harry confirmed.

The picture itself showed the blonde in question laying in repose on a red comforter, with her hair loose and fanned elegantly across the bedding. The skimpy white bra and panties she wore revealed vast expanses of creamy skin, that showed no hint that the girl had only had a baby a few months ago. The most damning thing about it though, was the visage of Santana leaning over the unconscious girl, with what looked like a hand written sign in her hand bearing the words 'Tapped it like a typewriter'.

''Quinn?'' Artie repeated numbly. ''With Santana? Quinn Fabray and Santana Lopez?''

''Uh huh.'' Harry nodded.

A sudden sniffling noise caught the green eyed boy's attention and he turned in his seat in confusion.

''Artie are you crying?'' He demanded incredulously.

''Tears of joy Harry...they're tears of joy.''

Next to him Mike started tearing up as well.

''There's so much beauty in the world dude.'' The Asian boy agreed.

Harry eyed them bemusedly for a moment before scoffing. ''You guys are so fucking deprived.'' He sneered. ''Although I do admit, that as far as hot lesbian action goes, it is a pretty spectacular pairing.''

''Brain...broken.'' Artie moaned.

''Spectacular indeed.''

It took them another twenty-five minutes to make it back to Lima, not including a short stop at a gas station where Harry had kicked up a fuss over their refusal to refer to it as 'petrol'. By the time they rolled into town they were all eager to kick back and relax after their hell of a day, so they agreed to grab a coffee and chill out for a while before heading home. That was until they drove past Finn's house and Artie demanded that they make a detour.

''I asked him to hold on to my inhaler last night and I kind of need it back.'' The bespectacled boy explained, as Harry pulled up in front of the Hudson-Hummel residence.

''Can't you just take the risk of potentially dying? Roll the dice once in a while.'' Harry suggested.

As the three boys exited the vehicle, they each noticed a pertinent fact about their surroundings.

''Why are there so many cars parked outside of the house?'' Mike wondered, failing to recognise one of the two extra vehicles. ''You think the Dalton guys are still here?''

''Who gives a crap? Let's just grab Steven Hawking's inhaler and hit the road.'' Harry grumbled, marching up to the front door.

''Whoa, what crawled up your ass?'' Artie questioned, while following him up the walkway.

''Lack of sleep and hours of driving.'' He bluntly answered.

''Either that or he's on the rag.'' Mike muttered quietly, causing Artie to cough violently in an attempt to cover his laughter.

Harry turned to face them suspiciously. ''Did you just say something Chang?''

Mike blinked innocently. ''Who? Me?''

Harry eyed him for a moment before scoffing at his insincerity. ''Don't give me that look. I honed, practised, and perfected that expression, while you were still just a tingle in your dad's crotch.''

Mike processed that statement and crinkled his nose in distaste. ''First of all, gross. And second of all, I'm two months older than you, so while I was being conceived, your dad was probably only just beginning to contemplate injecting your mum's womb with concentrated evil in order to create you.'' He retorted.

Harry considered that comeback before nodding in approval.

''Bravo Mike, you're slowly becoming more and more scathing as the days go by. I'm almost proud of you. Next thing I know you'll be putting the smack-down on hippies with a riot baton, while high on opiates.''

After Harry tried the doorbell without anyone answering, he started getting impatient. Pressing his ear against the wood he listened intently, and could clearly make out the unmistakeable sounds of loud music and merriment coming from inside the house.

''Hey, someone's having fun in there without me!'' He whined, whilst kicking the door for good measure.

''They probably can't hear the knocking over the music.'' Artie reasonably pointed out.

Harry nodded thoughtfully and examined the house in front of him. ''Yeah, Artie's right, we should totally break in.'' He agreed.

Artie nodded in agreement before belatedly realising what he was going along with. ''Hold on, that's not what I said!'' He protested indignantly.

''Hey look, an open window.'' Mike pointed out, gesturing to the side of the house.

Artie glanced at him curiously, whilst they both watched Harry skip happily towards his newly discovered entrance. ''Did you have to help him by pointing that out?''

Mike shrugged in response. ''I don't think it matters, since there's no way in hell he can fit through that tiny-assed window.''

''Silence non-believer!'' Harry snapped, having heard him. ''You forget that I'm a highly accomplished gymnast. Contorting my body in impossible fashions is as easy to me as breathing.'' He assured them.

The dark haired boy eyed the glass portal in front of him, while slowly backing away for a run up.

''Harry, I really don't think this is a good idea. Kurt's dad keeps a shotgun on hand, and there's no way you can fit through a gap that small.'' Artie warned him.

Harry scoffed derisively. ''Shotguns are the weapon of choice for red necks and overcompensating men with small penises.'' He declared. ''Now sit back and watch the master.''

Having finally backed up enough, the green eyed teen crouched down into a start position before shooting forward at top speed. Five feet away from the house he tensed his legs and leaped in a graceful arc. Artie and Mike watched him as if in slow motion, as he dove head first through the window, only to wince at the reverberating thump that followed.

There was a moment of silence as the two boys processed what had just happened, until they suddenly threw their heads back and roared with laughter. Harry however didn't seem to find it as funny, if his frantically kicking legs were any indication. The sight of the normally intimidating boy stuck with his back end hanging helplessly out of a window, was quite possibly one of the funniest things either of them have ever seen.

''Oh my god!'' Mike howled, clutching his stomach as he gasped for breath. ''Karma is awesome.'' he decided.

''This is great.'' Artie concurred, happily filming the flailing limbs with his phone.

''Get me out of here you dipshits!'' Harry demanded, his voice muffled by the glass separating them.

''Are you definitely stuck?'' Mike questioned hopefully.

''No, I'm flailing like a fucking fish for shits and giggles, ofcourse I'm fucking stuck!''

''I can't believe you managed to get that far through the opening, I never noticed how tiny your waist is before.'' Artie mused.

''Shut up and pull on my legs!'' The trapped boy demanded.

The two outside traded a considering look as they thought over the pros and cons of assisting him. On the one hand he'd just driven for hours to come to their aid, but on the other hand this was really really funny.

''We'll help you.'' Mike finally considered. ''But you have to promise to be nice to us for an entire week. Which means no insults, put-downs, quips at our expense, or practical jokes where we're the intended targets.''

Harry's legs stopped thrashing, indicating that he was thinking over their proposal. After a minute of silent contemplation he finally acquiesced.

''Okay guys, we have an accord. But I hope you realise that I'm doing you a huge favour here.''

Artie reached up and tugged experimentally on one of Harry's feet, earning a yelp of surprise for his efforts. ''You're doing us a favour?'' He repeated sceptically. ''You know that we could just stick a 'free access' sign on your ass and leave you here?''

''You wouldn't dare!'' Harry denied.

''Wanna a bet? Coz right now you're about as scary as a shark in an aquarium. Sure you're menacing and everything, but I can't help but be aware of the fact that you're unable to do anything to us.'' Mike pointed out.

Harry growled. ''Don't be a dick Chang, I'm already being nice to you, what more do you want?''

''How the hell are you being nice to me?''

''By not pointing out that there's a 'Save the Whales' poster hanging in this room I'm in.'' Harry retorted smugly.

Mike blinked in befuddlement, unsure as to why a anti-whaling poster would bother him.

''Why would he care about that?'' Artie spoke up, saving Mike from asking the question himself.

Harry sighed before explaining. ''Because whale hunting is like Japan's national sport. So saying 'Save the Whales' is like a huge middle finger to those porpoise hating sushi-munchers.'' He answered. ''I'm surprised that Finn and Kurt keep something like this in their house, where Mike or Tina could stumble across it at any time.''

Mike sputtered, as he was momentarily robbed of the ability to speak due to his sheer outrage.

''First of all, whale hunting is not Japan's national sport. Secondly, I'm adamantly against the hunting of whales. And thirdly, I'm not fucking Japanese!'' He roared.

''Oh my god! Does Tina know?'' Harry demanded, sounding deeply betrayed.

''She's not Japanese either!''

''Are you sure? Because I don't think you can just convert nationalities like that.''

''Neither of us have ever been Japanese, god damn it!''

Artie began quietly snickering at the unfolding argument, but a sharp look from Mike quickly silenced him.

''Get me out of here.'' Harry whined. ''My legs are going numb. I feel like Artie right now...except you know, way better looking.''

Artie's jaw dropped and Mike shot him a smug look as the tables were turned. He was about to suggest that they ditch the other boy and leave him as he was, but he ultimately decided that they owed him. But no one said that they had to be gentle about helping him out.

Mike seized both of Harry's ankles in a firm grip and tugged experimentally. The green eyed boy's indignant grumbling was clearly audible, although they couldn't make out exactly what he was saying. Ultimately Mike decided to assume that he was saying something insulting, so he gave his legs a harsh yank in retaliation.

''Hey, be careful back there! I'm delicate!''

''Wow, he's really wedged in there.'' Artie noted, as Mike braced his own feet against the wall and pulled on the trapped limbs with all of his might.

''Ow, that fucking hurts!''

''You should of thought of that before diving head first into a small hole.'' Mike chastised him.

''That's what she said.'' Artie quipped.

''Great, I'm being rescued by the Japanese and Crippled versions of Beevis and Butthead.'' Harry grouched miserably, before a sharp pain wrenched a yelp out of him. ''Son of a bitch, did one of you fuckers just bite me?''

Inside the Hudson-Hummel home, things were going far more pleasantly. Following the party the previous evening, Kurt had bodily dragged his fellow students back to his home in order to sleep off their inebriation. Nick and Jeff had been almost impossible to keep track of with their determination to climb everything in sight, and Blaine had been extremely displeased that he wasn't allowed to go home with Harry for the evening. More disturbing was that in the absence of his British obsession, Blaine had decided that Finn was the next best candidate for his homoerotic advances because he was 'so freaking tall and awesome'. Suffice to say, Kurt had been a bit miffed, but he had still let the other boy share his bed for the night.

All of his fellow Warblers had suffered that morning for their liberal intake of top shelf booze, and Finn hadn't been much better off. Kurt however had been entirely unsympathetic to their plight. He'd dragged them out of bed without ceremony and had proceeded to force pancakes down their throats with vengeful satisfaction. Finn considered himself lucky that the majority of his step brother's displeasure had been focussed on Blaine and his other friends.

Currently the Dalton students were in the middle of watching a musical marathon, and had been sequestered in Kurt's room for most of the day. But since musicals weren't really his thing, Finn had excused himself from the so called fun. He had spent most of the day nursing his hangover, and had finally decided that a nice hot shower might be just what the doctor ordered.

After some thought, he decided on using the downstairs bathroom so that he was as far away from Kurt and his friends as possible. They were nice guys, but they had the downside of being extremely loud, and Finn was trying to kill his hangover not exacerbate it.

As he stepped into the bathroom and pulled off his shirt, he found his thoughts turning to his incomplete memories of the night before. For some reason there were large gaps in his recollections, and he wasn't sure if he should be worried about that.

''Hey Finn.''

''Hey Harry.'' Finn greeted the boy hanging halfway through the bathroom window.

He stepped towards the shower and was just about to pull his sweatpants off, when his brain suddenly caught up with what was happening.

''Dude, what the fuck?!'' The football player shrieked in surprise, as he spun around to face the other boy.

Harry continued to hang there with a considering look on his face. ''Ya know, I don't know why Santana gives you such a hard time. You don't look too shabby with your shirt off.'' He opined.

Finn sputtered indignantly, before reflexively covering himself with his hands. ''What the hell are you doing in my bathroom?'' He demanded.

''Technically, only half of me is in your bathroom.'' Harry pointed out. His body suddenly jerked in the window frame and he cursed viciously over his shoulder. ''Be careful back there, I'm not a Christmas cracker!''

''Is somebody out there?'' Finn questioned, momentarily forgetting Harry's reason for being wedged in his window.

''Hey dude.'' The familiar voice of Artie called out.

''Artie?'' Finn called back. ''What the hell are you guys doing here?''

''I came to get my inhaler back.'' The bespectacled boy loudly replied.

''Who else is with you?'' Finn asked. He was fairly sure that Artie wouldn't be able to reach Harry's legs at that height, and given the way that the British teen was jerking around it was clear that someone was trying to pull him out.

''Just Mike.'' Artie answered. ''He's kind of pissy right now because Harry thought he was Japanese.''

''You mean he's not? Oh my god, does Tina know?''

''That's what I said!'' Harry happily agreed with the taller boy.

Finn suddenly realised his predicament, and decided that if he wanted to have a shower any time soon then he should probably help out.

''Give me your hands Harry.'' He requested, somewhat reluctantly.

Harry perked up and fixed him with a hopeful expression, before taking the larger boy's hands.

''Okay, I'm going to pull at the count of three.'' Finn warned him.

''I've got a better idea!'' Mike shouted, sounding like he was getting further away from them.

Harry looked at Finn sceptically. ''I hope it's better than their idea to bomb Pearl Harbour.'' He muttered.

''Hey guys, I think Mike's running away.'' Artie told them sounding confused. ''Oh no, false alarm, he's coming back...and running fast. Um, Harry? If I were you then I'd brace myself.''

Harry frowned, as Finn grabbed hold of him under the arms in preparation to pull him out. ''Brace myself for what?'' His question was answered, as something slammed into his backside, sending him flying forward into Finn.

The force of his ejection from the window frame sent them both crashing to the ground in a heap, with Finn acting as Harry's impromptu crash-mat. The method that earned him his freedom also had the downside of pulling down his jeans, which had been hooked on the window frame.

Harry groaned pitifully. His head was pillowed on Finn's bare chest, and he suspected that the other boy might be unconscious, but he made no move to stand or pull up his pants.

''Owie, I think I broke my tail bone.'' Finn whimpered, answering the question of whether he was conscious or not.

''I just got my ass literally kicked by a confused Asian dancer, so believe me when I say that I feel your pain.'' Harry mumbled.

''At least things can't get any more embarrassing.'' Finn offered positively.

Unfortunately that was the moment that Murphy's Law decided to kick in, and the bathroom door swung open.

Finn and Harry froze, like deer caught in the headlights, as Burt Hummel stepped obliviously into the room. The man was unaware of their presence at first, as he poked his head back out into the hallway.

''Hey hon? Where do we keep the cue tips?'' He shouted.

''Top shelf of the cabinet.'' Finn's mother hollered back.

Burt turned back to fulfil his task, only to freeze in shock at the scene before him. Ever since the day that Kurt had first confirmed his sexuality, Burt had been silently dreading the awkwardness of accidentally catching his son with another boy. So he found it understandably confusing, that the son that was half naked on his bathroom floor with a guy, was the one that he'd believed to be straight.


Finn sighed forlornly and slumped back on the tiles. ''Crap.''

Harry Potter was the single most evil little fucker that Finn had ever encountered. He had never been this humiliated in his entire life, and that was really saying something. After Burt had caught the two of them in their compromising position, he'd instantly jumped to conclusions and dragged the pair of them into the living room for a chat with Finn's mum. He had been too shocked to react or immediately correct Burt's assumption, but he should have suspected that something was wrong when Harry had stayed quiet and allowed himself to be led along without force feeding Burt one of his own shoes. A quiet, obedient Harry was never a good thing.

''Mum, I'm not gay!'' Finn protested for the dozenth time.

''Honey, there's no need to deny it. I mean, did you really think that I'd have a problem with it?'' Carol asked him, seeming honestly hurt that her baby had hidden such a huge secret from her.

''It wasn't you Mrs Hummel.'' Harry quickly reassured her. ''I think that Finn was just concerned about how people at school would react. Especially after everything Kurt went through recently.''

Burt nodded understandingly at that, with an expression of growing realisation. ''So that's why you said what you did to Kurt in the basement last year? You were still in denial about your own sexuality?''

''That's exactly it!'' Harry answered cheerfully, before Finn could even open his mouth.

''Oh honey.'' Carol crooned, getting out of her seat. ''Don't worry, everything's going to be fine. If you're worried about school then we can always send you to Dalton.'' She consoled her son, pulling his head to her chest and petting his hair.

''I'm not gay.'' He whined yet again. ''I'm dating Quinn!''

Harry quickly pounced on that with an explanation. ''Oh yes, dear, sweet Quinn. She felt so guilty about that mess with the baby last year, that she decided to make it up to Finn by pretending to be his girlfriend.''

Finn sputtered impotently. ''She is my girlfriend!'' He protested.

Harry sighed. ''Finn sweetie, do you really think that your parents are dumb enough to buy that? I mean the girl cheated on you with your best friend and had his baby, who would be stupid enough to trust her again in a relationship after that?'' He pointed out.

Burt and Carol both started nodding with sheepish expressions on their faces. ''I can't believe we didn't notice something that obvious.'' Carol admitted. ''And to think that I was worried that you were going to let that girl hurt you again.''

The entire conversation was starting to become more than a little bit surreal. Every time Finn denied his parent's accusations, Harry would come out with something that sounded completely reasonable to counter it.

''Mum, Burt, It's not what you think. This is all Harry's fault!'' He insisted with an air of desperation.

''Oh Finn, you're right.'' Harry admitted. ''If only I hadn't let you convince me to fool around with you in the bathroom, then your parents wouldn't have had to find out like this.''

Finn's eyes bugged out, as he began choking on his rage.

''I'm so sorry for that by the way.'' Harry continued, looking at the Hummels apologetically. ''It was terribly improper of me to do that under your roof, without making my relationship with Finn clear first.'' He told them, before placing his face into his hands. ''I'm so embarrassed.''

Burt snorted in amusement and reached over to clap Harry on the back. ''Don't need to apologize for that kiddo. We know what it's like to be teenagers.''

''Thank you Mr Hummel.''

''Oh, you are sooo fucking evil.'' Finn growled.

''Finn! Watch your language.'' Carol scolded.

''Yeah Finn, you really should watch your language.'' Harry agreed, before giving the other boy's mother a commiserating look. ''He has such a foul mouth sometimes.''

''No need to apologise for him, Harry sweetheart.'' She dismissed. ''But I must say, It's refreshing to meet such a polite young man.''

''Thank you Mrs Hummel.''

''Call me Carol, dear.'' She told him.

There was a loud thunk, as Finn slammed his head down on the coffee table. ''This can't be happening to me.''

''Aww poor baby.'' Harry cooed, patting the other boy's thigh. The British teen leant over and gave him a kiss on the cheek and then hopped to his feet. ''I just remembered that Artie said he left his inhaler here. I'll just go and fetch it and leave you guys to talk.'' He proposed.

As he all but skipped out of the room, Finn watched him go with narrowed eyes. ''I think I'll go and help Harry look.'' He decided, getting up to follow him.

Burt scoffed, while Carol suppressed a giggle.

''Go ahead.'' His mother permitted. ''And by the have great taste in men.'' She told him, adding the last part in a whisper and giving her son a thumbs up.

''And leave the door open!'' Burt added. ''I know that boys will be boys, but I'd prefer if you didn't do that in the house while we're here.''

Finn hurried from the room, a blush of humiliation creeping across the back of his neck. After rushing up the stairs, he searched frantically for the other boy, while clenching his hands in anticipation of wrapping them around his neck. Kurt's bedroom door was still closed, and the sound of him and his friend's laughing echoed out into the hallway, leading him to dismiss that as an option for Harry's location, and his mum and Burt's bedroom was on the ground floor, so that ruled that out, which left only one other alternative.

Finn stormed into his bedroom in a fury, and just as he expected, found Harry reclined lazily on his bed waiting for him.

''Hello lover.''

''You are so dead.'' Finn snarled.

''Wow, why are all gay guys so sensitive?'' Harry wondered.

With an incoherent growl of rage, Finn leapt at his adversary, pinning him to the bed and trying to ineffectually throttle him.

''!'' He ground out, between squeezes of the other boy larynx.

''Pinning me to the bed and wrapping your hands around my neck is only going to turn me on.'' Harry gasped out, laying pliantly beneath him.

''Shut up and take it! You deserve this for how hard you rammed me in the bathroom earlier.'' Finn retorted.

Their brief scuffle was interrupted, as a crash sounded from the bedroom doorway. Without moving his hands from Harry's throat, Finn slowly turned to look over his shoulder. Standing there with a gobsmacked expression on his face was Kurt, along all three of his little Warbler friends. Finn almost asked what their problem was, until he suddenly realised the position he was in. He still hadn't put a shirt on since the scene in the bathroom, and if he considered the last words out of his own mouth, then he could probably guess what they were thinking right now.

''Do you guys mind? We're experimenting with Autoerotic Asphyxiation, and you're rudely interrupting.'' Harry piped up.

Finn twitched, before deciding to ignore the spectators for the moment.

''Choke on your lies!'' He roared, going back to his choking.

''What the hell is going on?'' Blaine demanded, with perhaps a teensy bit of jealousy.

Harry perked up happily at the sight of him, and proceeded to ignore the boy strangling him on the bed.

''Blaine!'' He chirped.

With an unnervingly casual show of strength, Harry launched Finn off of him and sent him crashing into the nearby wardrobe. Having dealt with that minor nuisance, Harry pounced on Blaine for his daily dose of snuggles.

''Hi Blainey, you're looking extremely sexyful today.'' He informed him, after a very thorough inspection of his body.

''Sexyful?'' Blaine repeated amusedly. ''Is that even a word?''

Harry shrugged. ''Hermione's ex boyfriend used to say it all the time...although, now that I think about it, he was a Bulgarian football player with a limited grasp of the English language.'' He admitted thoughtfully.

''You can still call me sexyful if you want.'' Blaine offered.

''Eh hem.'' Kurt coughed pointedly. ''Are you planning on telling us what you're doing here, and why my Neanderthal step-brother was choking you?''

Harry blinked, as though just now remembering where he was. ''Oh yeah, that whole thing. Long story short, Mike kicked me through your bathroom window and I landed on your half naked brother with my pants around my ankles, thus convincing your parents that Finn is gay and I'm his secret lover.''

Apparently none of them knew whether to take him seriously or not, because they all glanced at Finn's crumpled form for confirmation.

''You left out the part where you fed them a pack of lies.'' The quarterback grumbled petulantly.

A high pitched squeak caught everyone's attention and Kurt quickly placed his hand over his mouth, earning himself some odd looks.

'''re saying that my parents are now under the impression that Finn is gay?'' The effeminate boy inquired, with his expression carefully blank.

''Yeah, but it was an accident.'' Harry defended.

''It was not!'' Finn refuted. ''You intentionally lied your ass off.''

Harry pouted. ''You're quickly becoming the meanest boyfriend I've ever had.''

''I'm not your boyfriend!'' Finn whined miserably.

''Well fine, if you suddenly think that you're too good for me, then I don't think I want to be in this relationship anymore.'' The green eyed boy haughtily declared.

''You're exhausting.'' Finn sighed. ''Kurt, can you please help me convin...where'd Kurt go?'' He wondered suddenly, looking around for his mysteriously absent step-brother.

His question was answered by the sound of the other boy's high pitched voice drifting up the stairs.

''I'm so thrilled that Finn finally came out to you guys! He's been holding in the secret for so long, that I think It'll do him good to tell people at last. We should throw a coming out party, I'll send Rachel her invitation immediately!''

Hearing Kurt's feigned squeals of enthusiasm to his parents, made Harry cackle with delight. ''I'd pay to see the look on Rachel's face if that happens.''

Finn wailed in despair and charged towards the stairs, intent on stopping his step-brother from saying any more, leaving the other four behind in the hallway. After a moment, the tell tale sounds of an argument reached them.

Jeff raised his eyebrows and gave Blaine a curious look. ''You've met Kurt's brother a few times now, is he always this crazy?''

Blaine considered the question for a moment before answering him. ''No, not really. He always seemed like a fairly normal guy.''

Having his theory confirmed, the blonde took a large step away from Harry.

''Then I'm going to conclude that your new boyfriend's mental state is contagious.'' Jeff decided, drawing a frown from Blaine.

''Harry's not my boyfriend.'' The curly headed boy denied.

''Why does everyone abhor the idea of being in a relationship with me all of a sudden?'' Harry lamented miserably. ''First Finn, now Blaine, even that Latin gangster didn't respond to my suggestive leering earlier! I'm unlovable!''

Nick raised a hand. ''I'll date you!'' He volunteered eagerly.

Blaine seemed to take exception to that remark, as he grabbed Harry's hand and began leading him down the staircase. ''Come on Harry, I wanna go and say hi to Teddy. Can we go to your place?''

Whatever Harry's answer was, Nick and Jeff didn't hear it due to the sudden increase in the volume of Kurt's angry shrieking and Finn's yelps of pain interspersed with slapping sounds.

''Am I the only one who heard that Latin gangster comment?'' Jeff wondered suddenly.

Nick clapped him on the shoulder in a show of support. ''Nope, I heard it too. That is one seriously weird dude.''

Some minutes after Mike had successfully booted Harry through the bathroom window, Artie was becoming concerned that neither he or Finn had come to open the front door for them.

''What's taking them so long?'' He muttered.

Mike shrugged in response. ''Probably something stupid and crazy.''

It was at that moment that the door slammed open and Finn went streaking passed them, screaming at the top of his lungs.

''I'm not gay!''

The two boys watched his rapid departure with faintly bemused expressions, until Harry sauntered out of the house leading four flummoxed looking Warblers in his wake. He briefly watched Finn's fleeing form, before tossing something into Artie's lap.

''There's your inhaler, no need to thank me.''

''It took you twenty-five minutes to find it?'' Mike questioned sceptically.

Harry waved a hand dismissively. ''Nah, but Finn's parents wanted to talk to us about our relationship.''

''That was quite possibly the most fun I've ever had at Finn's expense.'' Kurt happily noted. ''And that's really saying something.

''Relationship?'' Mike repeated. ''What relationship?''

''The fabricated kind.'' Harry answered honestly.

Before anyone could question exactly what had gone on in the Hummel home, Harry grabbed an unprotesting Blaine by the hand and began leading him to his car.

''Now where are you going?'' Artie called after him.

''Home, obviously. I've got a baby that needs to be corrected on his cursing, and a geriatric ghost to summon.'' Harry yelled back over his shoulder.

There was a strained silence as the Warblers tried to reinterpret exactly what he meant by that, which was broken by Artie and Mike realising that their ride was leaving.

''Hey, wait for us!'' They demanded.

Jeff released a put upon sigh as Kurt and Nick shrugged and shuffled over to his Navigator with the obvious intent to follow them. ''Yup, one seriously weird dude. And I'm starting to think it's contagious.''

AN/ Wow, I really hope that I'm not as rusty as I feel. Hopefully you guys enjoyed this. Feel free to make requests and suggestions, because I could use the extra boost until my creative juices start flowing properly again. Review if you enjoyed it.