"I can't believe she didn't come with us," Blaine half-groaned as he stood on the steps next to Kurt, who was eyeing the buzzers next to the door.

"Bane," Kurt said, ignoring Blaine. 

He reached up and pressed the little, square buzzer and waited. Nothing happened for a long time and Blaine reached across Kurt, in an attempt to press it again, but Kurt caught his arm.

"Stop that," he said. "He's the high warlock of Brooklyn, I would imagine he's sort of busy. We can't stand here pressing his buzzer continuously. What if we disturb some kind of.. warlock thing?"

Blaine only rolled his eyes and pulled his arm from Kurt's grip. He managed to press the buzzer, gaining a less than amused look from Kurt. He replied with a small shrug. They waited for another few minutes, then Kurt began walking down the steps.

"What are you—"

Blaine was cut off by the sound of the door behind him. Kurt watched as Blaine spun around to look at the door, which was now open. A tall figure stood in the doorway, hands on hips. Kurt walked back up the steps to join Blaine.

"Yes?" said a voice lilted with an accent that Kurt could not quite place.

Kurt saw now that he was staring up at a tall, thin man, dressed in a sequined golden shirt and multi-coloured jeans which looked as if they had been spray-painted on. His hair stood in tall, jet-black spikes from his head, his eyes were like cats, slanted and luminous. His skin was bronzed and glittered wildly in the light.

"Ah, the Angel's children," the elaborate man said, upon realising they were Shadowhunters.

"Magnus Bane?" Blaine asked, eyes wide.

"The very same," Magnus spoke back.

"We're friends of Isabelle Lightwood," Blaine said and Kurt wondered just where Blaine thought that statement was going to get them.

"Ah, yes, the Lightwoods," Magnus said, smiling slightly. "I'm well enough acquainted with the Lightwoods, although I must say, I am rather more familiar with Isabelle's brother than I am with Isabelle herself."

Kurt and Blaine said nothing, just watched the almost sparkling warlock standing in front of them. He seemed to remember that they were there, because the small smile disappeared from his lips and he looked down at the boys.

"So, is there something I can help you with?"

"We need to talk to you," Blaine said, simply.

Magnus tilted his head, his dark hair, tipped in electric blue, never moved with his movement. Then, he stood back with a small sigh.

"I suppose I had better let you in."

They found themselves sitting on a gold velvet sofa, the arms ending in mahogany wood, carved into twirling shapes. Magnus sat across from them, his slender arms folded. He seemed to be concentrated on something. Next to him, sat a small creature that looked vaguely like a cross between a cat and a jerboa. It was grey and had pointed ears, it's small paws folded. Kurt eyed the animal, wondering what it was.

"Are you afraid of cats?" Blaine asked, quietly, next to him. 

"What?"

"Cats," Blaine provided. "I saw you go all tense when we passed Widget back in Ohio and whenever Church came into the room earlier on, you did the same and just now, you were staring at that cat like you thought it might pounce on you."

Kurt narrowed his eyes at Blaine, because he felt sort of stupid getting caught. He wasn't afraid of cats, it was just that cats didn't like him.

"You're not afraid of the Chairman, are you?" Magnus said in his sing-song voice. "Why, he's so tiny, perfectly harmless."

"I," Kurt declared. "Am not afraid of cats."

"Indeed," Magnus said, clearly unconvinced. "Would you like anything? Tea? Coffee? Sex on the beach?"

Blaine and Kurt stared at him.

"Alright, then," Magnus said, looking uncomfortable for a split second. "I assume there is a reason you're here?"

"Yes," Blaine cleared his throat. "I'm Blaine, Blaine Anderson and this is—"

"Kurt Hummel," Kurt told him.

"Anderson and Hummel," Magnus said, thoughtfully. "Levi Anderson? Ruth Aldertree's husband?"

Blaine nodded.

"And Hummel," Magnus looked off to the side. "Burt Hummel, banished from the Clave for canoodling with a Downworlder."

Canoodling?

"Um," Kurt uttered. "I—yes."

"Interesting," Magnus said, folding his thin hands.

"Right, so we—"

"Hold that thought!" Magnus spoke over Blaine. "Dear me, look at the time! I have a party to prepare for, you know. I need to decorate!"

"Oh," Kurt said. "We can just come back another ti—"

"Nonsense!" Magnus shook his head, his hair still unmoved. "It will take just a few moments."

And with that, Magnus raised his long, thin fingers and began muttering quietly beneath his breath, words that neither Kurt nor Blaine could make out. Then, small sparks of electric blue light began to spring from his finger tips and a bright white light filled the room. When it faded, Kurt and Blaine saw that the room was different. All of the expensive ornaments were now in glass cases. Gold and silver streamers hung from the high ceiling. The floors were covered in confetti and coloured lights sprung from the walls. Kurt and Blaine could only stare, awestruck.

"Perfect," Magnus said, clapping his hands, lingering blue light sparking in small spits still coming from his fingers. "You're both welcome to come along, you know."

"Why are we doing this again?" Kurt shouted over the loud thumping music coming from the speakers in every corner of the ceiling.

Blaine stood next to Kurt, looking as awkward as Kurt felt. He stared across the room at Magnus, standing by the bar—Kurt had no idea when he had added the bar—past the bodies slinking and twirling in the darkness. 

"Because we want him to help us," Blaine supplied.

Kurt shook his head and looked around the room at the various creatures. Vampires flitted across the room, their bodies moving like fluid. Warlocks danced in twos and threes, some had tails, some had pointed teeth, some had unnaturally coloured skin. Faeries flitted across the room, their wings glittering as they spun and moved with a smooth grace, leaving a bright trail behind them in the air. The only Downworlders missing were the children of the moon; the wolves. And that was probably a good thing, Kurt thought. Having the vampires and the werewolves in the same room would not have ended well.

Kurt and Blaine were the only Shadowhunters at the party and they felt very much out of place. 

"Have you eaten anything?" Magnus said, standing in front of them. Kurt wondered when he had gotten there, because he hadn't seen him moving.

"No," Kurt responded, simply.

"Well, have a sandwich!"

Both Kurt and Blaine let out a small squeal when they realised two sandwiches had somehow appeared in their hands. Magnus was laughing giddily.

"I do love that look of surprise," he enthused. "Enjoy!"

He danced away, his hips twisting as he went. Kurt looked down at the sandwich and studied it. It didn't look dangerous. He was about to ask Blaine whether he thought they should eat it or not, but Blaine had already begun.

"What are you doing?" Kurt demanded. "You don't know what's in that!"

"Sure, I do," Blaine said, mouth full. "Chicken, lettuce, tomato, um, onion and I think that's cheese, but I couldn't be sure."

"It could be dangerous," Kurt said, sensibly.

"Oh, come on, it looks perfectly—ouch!"

Blaine jumped forward and turned to look behind him. Kurt saw a phouka waddling away, laughing like a hyena. 

"What did he..?"

"That thing just, like, felt me up," Blaine said, horrified.

Kurt smiled and was about to tease him about it, but Blaine started to cough. The sandwich had gone against his breath. Kurt started thumping him hard on the back and after a while, he caught his breath and stood there nodding.

"I'm going to go get a drink," he cleared his throat again. "Do you want anything?"

"I'm not that brave," Kurt told him.

Blaine walked away and Kurt watched him go. He was dressed in his dark clothing again and in the spot lights, Kurt could see the perfect curve if his hips in those jeans. He pulled his eyes away and concentrated on the party around him. It was loud and dark and there were far too many Downworlders. He had nothing against them, even liked some of them, it was just that he wasn't used to being surrounded by so many.

A moment later, Blaine came back, smiling, a steamy glass in his hand.

"Oh, by the Angel," Kurt breathed. "What the hell are you drinking?"

"I don't know, I haven't drunk any yet," Blaine said, looking excitedly down at the glass. "But the guy at the bar said it was fine."

The steam was fading and the liquid inside was sort of a lilac colour. The bottom of the glass was a dark purple and small streams of something swam in it. Kurt wondered what species of Downworlder the guy at the bar had been to consider this thing 'fine'.

"Blaine, I don't think you should—"

But Blaine had begun gulping it down. Kurt gaped at him as he finished the entire glass. He swallowed the last sip and let out a small burp.

"I can't believe you drank that," Kurt said, in disbelief. "I cannot believe you did that."

"Oh, come on," Blaine laughed. "Live a little."

Kurt rolled his blue eyes.

"Yes, Blaine, living is exactly what I plan on doing," Kurt told him. "But after drinking that, I'm not sure there will be much living in your future."

"Don't be ridiculous," Blaine laughed, then coughed once, his eyes going wide. 

Kurt felt his stomach drop, because Blaine looked different somehow. What in the name of the Angel had he just drunk?

"Blaine, you don't look so good, maybe we should leave—"

"I look perfectly fine," Blaine said, voice a little high-pitched. "And so do you! You look nice. Did I tell you that already? Your face looks amazing."

Kurt stared at Blaine for a long time, then grabbed his arm and tugged him towards Magnus Bane.

"He drank what?" Kurt exploded.

They were standing in an empty room now. It was completely empty. The walls were a robin egg blue and one window stood in the middle of the wall. The floor was wooden and pale in colour. Blaine was standing by the window, humming, a broad smile on his face, his bright eyes wide and alert.

"A truth potion," Magnus repeated. "Anyone who consumes it can speak only the truth until it wears off."

"You've got to be kidding me," Kurt breathed, looking over at his friend who was laughing manically now. "How long is he going to be like this?"

"Oh, it shouldn't be too long," Magnus waved a glittering hand. "He'll be perfectly normal by tomorrow."

"This is unbelievable."

"Why are you so upset?" Magnus asked. "'and ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free', as the Bible says."

"You can quote the Bible?" Kurt asked. He had never know a warlock who could quote the Bible. Warlocks were the result of a human breeding with a demon, which made them partially demonic, so few associated themselves with the Bible.

"I've been around for so long that I have little choice but to know some segments."

"Kurt," Blaine said, coming towards him.

Kurt turned to look at him. He was grinning happily, his honey coloured eyes brighter than ever. He looked at Kurt and spoke.

"Your eyes are so blue! They're so beautiful! I feel like I'm dancing in the sky!"

"I thought he was going to tell the truth, not act like a seven year old on a sugar rush," Kurt said, looking at Magnus who was staring on in amusement. Kurt chose to ignore the fact that Blaine had said his eyes were beautiful yet again.

"Perhaps his true self is a seven year old who has had one too many lollipops," Magnus offered. "He's right, you know, about your eyes."

Kurt raised a thin brow at the warlock.

"They're a rather interesting blue," he went on. "Would you consider dying your hair a shade or two darker?"