There’s not like a big sorting debate going on, and I don’t want to start one. But I really like thinking about the conversations the kids would with the Sorting Hat that would make them get put where they go. And I have two that are very very clear in my mind.
After “Pierce, Brittany” is called and she puts the Sorting Hat on, it isn’t quite sure what to make of her first. But before it can start really looking, Brittany starts asking questions. About how the hat can talk, and if it ever says anything else, and does it only work if you have magic? And will her cat Lord Tubbington be able to come with her? Or does he need to get sorted separately, or does he have to go to Gryffindor because lions are big cats? Will she be able to talk to other cats after she studies, and not just Lord Tubbington? When do classes start? Is there math? Is there a magic way to make math make more sense? Will she -
Before she can finish or ask anymore questions, because the hat can’t get a single word in between this crowd of thoughts and questions, the shout of “Ravenclaw” rings through the crowd.
“Hummel, Kurt” is called out and a very, very small boy with a brightly colored scarf tucked under his robes steps out of line. His posture is straight and his head held high, but hat knows how scared he is, and why.
The hat sees a quick wit and a sharp mind, sees a kind and compassionate heart, but also the fear and asks, “What do you most want?”
Kurt answers, “To be safe.”
“If I put you in Gryffindor, lots of people would look out for you and protect for you. You’re very brave, and so are they.”
“No,” answers Kurt, in his head. “I don’t want other people to protect me. I want to protect myself.”
“Alright then,” the hat answers and shouts to the full room, “Slytherin!”
There’s so much Hogwarts!Klaine and it’s making me happy and want to write more! For miss-awesomesauce because she asked for more of this verse.
This is the third part but chronologically comes before this and this. I think I’m going to have to make a tag or something for these because it’s becoming a thing and I have ideas. It’s a ‘verse not a story though so they’re not really going to have a specific order or organisation to how they’re posted.
“Mr Anderson, would you care to share with the class?” Professor McGonagall asks, shooting an icy glare across the class room. Everyone turns in their seats , including Kurt, to look at where the Gryffindor is sitting with his back rim-rod straight and his eyes wide as he stares at his Head of House. On either side of him, Finn and Sam look like one of the ghosts have just passed through them.
“Uh, n-no, professor, I was just-” he tries to explain and the whole class snickers, watching with amusement now. “S-Sam and I were just-”
“Maybe,” she says in a hard voice, “if yourself and Mr Evans spent more time concentrating on Transfiguration and less time on Quidditch you’d be able to successfully turn your Teapot into a Tortoise and not merely give your crockery a new pattern, Mr Anderson.”
It’s one of the most magical things Blaine has found in Hogwarts, and being a third year Gryffindor student, having already experienced the castle’s secret paths and the joys of Hogsmeade, Blaine thinks that nothing has ever bewitched him as this.
Because the mirror makes dreams come true.
And with every fiber of his being he wants Kurt, a Slytherin boy he fell in love with the first time he saw him on the Hogwarts express, to see, he wanted to make him happy. He knew the Mirror of Erised did just that, it showed the deepest, most desired wishes. Blaine often wondered what will appear opposite of Kurt in the mirror, different scenarios bloomed in his imagination, but he still was desperate to find out if Kurt’s true thoughts could include him too.
That’s why, now that they’re both here, and he’s about to pull at the veil, his hands tremble in anticipation.
Because he knows exactly what he sees, every time he loses track of time, standing in front of the mirror. Kurt and himself, together and happy, holding hands and kissing, their love so tangible in the reflection that Blaine can practically feel the flutter of Kurt’s eyelashes on his skin, the heartbeat of his own heart in the silence of the majestic room.
The veil falls down, and Blaine stares at Kurt, trying to catch every shifting emotion in the changing expression of his face, every detail from the hitching of his breath to the dilatation of his pupils.
But in that moment Kurt’s face is unreadable and stunned, as if he was hit by a petrifying charm.
“Kurt, what do you see?” Blaine asks, notes of impatience breaking his voice.
Buzzing silence, and Kurt glances at Blaine, for just a moment, as if to make sure that Blaine is still there, still real.
“I see myself with my mom,” Kurt responds in the faintest of voices.
In an instant Blaine’s face flushes in embarrassment and he bites his lip to keep himself from shouting in frustration at his own stupidity. Of course. Of course Kurt would think of his mom, one of the greatest witches of all time, who tragically died in the battle against the Dark Lord, leaving Kurt to a painful magic-less childhood with a muggle dad.
Of course there was no room for a pure blood like Blaine, who always had everything, the best of luck, the best of friends and grades without the tiniest bit of effort. Everything, except for Kurt.
“What about you?” Kurt looks at Blaine again, his eyes shining brightly with unshed tears.
“I… I’m the captain of the Chudley Cannons,” Blaine lies, and watches as Kurt’s lower lip quivers in disappointment, feels stupid and powerless.
He shouldn’t have brought Kurt here, shouldn’t have even mentioned it, if it yet again proved how much of an unattainable, unreachable dream Kurt was in his mind.
So this is set a few months before this and I may have one or two smaller ideas about this ‘verse so it may turn into something bigger in while. Anyway, enjoy some Hogwarts!Klaine
“Blaine, you were-”
“Kurt,” Blaine gasps, almost falling on top of him when Kurt pulls him into a little corner off of the tunnel. “Kurt, what are you doing here?”
“-so amazing, I just, I can’t believe you can do… Well, that!” Kurt says, eyes full of awe. He wraps an arm around Blaine’s shoulders and pulls him in closer, lips ghosting over Blaine’s. “So, so amazing.”
“I thought- mmph - I thought you didn’t like Quidditch, Kurt,” Blaine mumbles between kisses and he’s grinning, he can hardly help it.
someone write me a slytherin!kurt and gryffindor/hufflepuff!blaine hate fic where there’s this dramatic house rivalry but then they get stuck somewhere at night and sex and secret dating (or just the porn)
no I didn’t use a Get Back to Hogwarts lyric for the title that would be stupid
alianne and I were talking about Hufflepuff!Blaine and Gryffindor!Kurt sneaking down to the kitchens for cheesecake, and then this happened. ~1500 words, PG-13 for cursing.
Blaine peeked out from behind the suit of armor on the seventh floor, hoping to see Kurt’s distinctive coif making its way toward him from Gryffindor Tower. Technically it wasn’t after hours just yet, so if a professor saw him he couldn’t actually get in trouble, but why borrow trouble?
“Blaine?” a familiar voice hissed. “Where are – oh my God!”
“Sorry, sorry,” Blaine said quietly. He had burst out from behind the armor a little too quickly for high-strung, easily frightened Kurt, and his boyfriend was now doubled over a bit in shock. “Didn’t want Mrs. Norris to see me.”
“Shouldn’t that damn cat be dead by now?” Kurt asked, straightening up. “It was here when Harry Potter was a student, for God’s sake.”
“I think she’s actually Mrs. Norris the Second,” Blaine said, remembering some gossip he’d overheard from the Fat Friar. “Anyways, are you ready for your anniversary surprise?”
So it’s September 1st and I’m sitting here trying not to cry because the only robe I’m wearing is my bath robe. So, instead, HAVE SOME HOGWARTS!KLAINE. This fits into my previous hogwarts!klaine ‘verse so you can check them out too if you like.
For sararye because she seems just as upset about the “We’re not going to Hogwarts” thing as I am.
Kurt is warily eyeing up Finn and his trunk, barrelling down the walkway between platforms nine and ten, keeping a steady hold on his own but ready to jump in if Finn looses control and it careens into a passerby. An old fashioned trunk and an owl would be hard to explain to muggles, even now they garner a few odd looks but this is London, not much phases them.