The entire series of events that brought Kurt Hummel to the doorstep of Dalton Academy for Magical Creatures spanned over so many years that the boy could not comprehend why the move was even necessary. At the very least, he couldn't understand why the immediacy was so important.

A few hours earlier, his father had thrown his bedroom door open with such fear in his eyes that Kurt automatically assumed the coven had fallen under attack. Burt Hummel had moved with vampiric speed, something that he didn't usually use around his son, and Kurt's belongings had been packed and piled next to the door in less than forty-five seconds.

Kurt had still been staring dumbly at his door when he was dragged out of it.

He was stumbling after his father and quite literally ran into Rachel who had tears in her eyes that left angry red streaks down her porcelain cheeks. She gripped his forearm and placed an icy kiss on his jaw line. Her whispered "I love you, Kurt" followed him through the door and into the cold night.

Kurt was all but tossed into the backseat of his own car, his belongings being thrown in next to him by Finn who had apparently been following them. Finn slammed himself into the passenger seat, and suddenly 823 Sycamore Drive was three miles behind them. Despite his pleas, neither his father nor Finn would explain what was going on until the oppression rolled off Kurt in waves, and one of them had to talk before they all suffocated.

The only information Kurt had received was that his life had been threatened again, and was now to be under the care of the powerful headmaster of Dalton Academy. A pang of nervousness shot through Kurt, and Finn hissed as the tremor in the air hit him. Blaine Anderson was the only direct descendant of Lycaon, the Original. Blaine was no doubt the most powerful werewolf in existence, and Kurt was about to walk right into his grasp with a shiny bow. Better yet, he was going to do so under the instruction of his own father.

After expressing this thought, Burt dismissed him and growled, "Blaine Anderson is the only good thing about that entire race of fleabags."

It was a confusing night.

Much to his chagrin, Dalton indeed differed from what Kurt imagined. The grounds were actually beautiful, but you couldn't have benefactors with 400 years worth of income without reaping some sort of reward. The building was made of a complex weave of brick and stone, somehow giving the immense structure a certain charm. At least if Kurt was to be imprisoned, he could do so in comfort.

After a tight hug from Finn and a kiss on the forehead from his father, the Dalton guards took his possessions and gently escorted Kurt inside the massive building.

The hair on the back of Kurt's neck stood up as he navigated through the unfamiliar marble hallways. His body temperature wavered, and the familiar coolness began to climb slowly through his veins as his unease increased. He could feel the curious gazes on him, each creature creating a different sensation. There was a hot prodding on his back as he caught the attention of two daemons behind him, and a lingering tingle on the back of his head that signified the glance of a wicce or wicca. He took slow breaths as he walked; fear in a place like this would only mark him as weak. He clutched his shoulder bag tighter and stopped at the oak door that he had been pointed towards.

Rm. 108
Dr. Blaine Anderson

He delicately raised his hand to knock, but just before his knuckles touched the surface, a smooth voice sounded from behind it.

"Come in."

Kurt took a steadying breath as he grasped the brass handle and pushed the heavy door open. When he turned around he found himself face to face with his first Lycan. That, however, is not what shocked him. The man in the room didn't look a day over 25.

Kurt felt his gaze just as he saw it, the warm and oddly comforting sensation that matched the hazel eyes twinkling back at his own. The hazel eyes were attached to a man with gelled coffee colored hair and a startlingly beautiful face. Dr. Anderson rose from his position behind his large and extremely disorganized desk and advanced toward him with his hand outstretched. In a moment of instinctual panic, Kurt took a step back and pressed himself against the door.

Dr. Anderson's smile turned into a worried frown and he halted immediately, raising his hands in surrender. "Kurt, I'm not going to hurt you. I promise." He slowly stretched his hand out again as an invitation. "I'm Blaine Anderson, headmaster and professor of English here at Dalton."

Kurt gingerly took his hand and shook it. The larger hand was warm, and as soon as Kurt's skin made contact with it a rush of warmth shocked his system. His body temperature shot up immediately and the previous coolness that clung to his veins as a familiar self-defense mechanism was expelled. Kurt was stunned for a moment, but then cleared his throat and tried to plaster on a confident smile.

"It's nice to meet you, Dr. Anderson."

The other man smiled wider and chuckled, "Please, outside of class call me Blaine. 'Doctor' makes me feel like I should be old and somewhat medically competent."

Kurt's instinctual bravado made an appearance and he remarked, "Well, at least you have the old part down, though I didn't expect you to look like you stepped straight out of a Humphrey Bogart movie."

Blaine's eyes widened in shock, but then he threw his head back and laughed loudly. "I have a feeling you'll fit right in here."

Kurt's smile fell and his gaze flickered nervously back at the closed door. Blaine seemed to sense his discomfort and guided him over to the sofa along the wall. Once they were both seated, he ducked to meet Kurt's eyes.

"I know you must be feeling out of place here, but I promise it will work out. Anyone who has a problem with you knows that they would have to answer to me. I hate to sound pompous, but don't think anyone is nearly stupid enough to do that."

Kurt turned away and shook his head in irritated confusion. "I don't understand. This goes against everything that I was taught."

Blaine was silent for a moment.

"You don't know how important you are, do you?" He asked.

Kurt blanched and whipped his head around to meet Blaine's gaze. "I'm a human. I know that everyone expects me to have some sort of crazy deathly powers, but I've gone seventeen years without experiencing anything life changing. So if you know something that I don't, please do enlighten me." He wrapped his arms around his torso in defense, and stiffened when he felt a hand rest gently on his shoulder. Almost immediately, his body relaxed involuntarily under the warm touch, as if it was being unwound from that very spot. Kurt furrowed his brow in confusion at the unfamiliar reaction.

"Kurt. I know this must be hard. I know. I'm not fully aware of what you were taught in the McKinley coven, but I can do my best to answer your questions." Blaine prodded.

"I just—why are you being so nice to me? Shouldn't you hate me?" Kurt asked, still defiantly keeping his arms locked around himself. Blaine smiled.

"Kurt, just because our ancestors waged a war against each other doesn't mean that we have to. Ignorance is dangerous and causes unnecessary consequences." Blaine paused and squeezed Kurt's shoulder reassuringly. "I'm sure you of all people can agree with me on that one."

Kurt sighed. "I just don't understand why I'm here. I know what my roots are, and I know that everyone expects me to be…more, I guess, but I'm still just a human. Sorry to disappoint you."

Blaine stared at Kurt curiously for a few moments. "You may be human, but there are things that happen to you that you can't explain…things that you shouldn't be able to do if you were absolutely powerless. Am I correct?"

Kurt narrowed his eyes at Blaine, and Blaine nodded and stood up.

"Kurt, I know you're already somewhat aware of this, but I don't think you know the extent of the danger you're in. Dalton is the best form of protection that I can offer you while we figure out exactly what you can do." Blaine explained, extending a hand to help Kurt up.

Kurt looked at Blaine with a calculating expression and said, "That's what I don't understand. Why do you want to help me and why should I trust you?"

Something flickered in Blaine's gaze. It happened so fast that Kurt thought he imagined it, but then Blaine shook his head and the corner of his mouth twitched into a half smile. "I made a promise."

It was like a switch was flipped.

Why wouldn't anyone answer a goddamn question?

Kurt laughed humorlessly. "Look. I don't know what you're trying to prove. I don't know if you're working for someone or if you have some sort of God complex. You don't even know me. I don't even knowyou. My entire life, I have been taught that your kind is my mortal enemy, and you insist that you want to help me? You Lycans killed my mother, and now you expect me to show you all of my secrets because you made some sort of cryptic promise?" Kurt was standing at this point, taking heaving breaths as the air around him was softly vibrating. Blaine merely gazed contemplatively back at him, but there was no hint of hostility or anger at Kurt's words. It was infuriating.

Kurt started walking to the door, but turned and quietly said, "I'm here because I have to be. For some unknown reason, my father trusts you. Just to be clear, I don't. Trust needs to be earned." Kurt turned back toward the door and muttered, "It was nice to meet you, Dr. Anderson."

Before Kurt could grasp the handle, Blaine was suddenly in front of him opening it. He gave Kurt a dazzling smile and said, "It was nice to meet you, too, Kurt. You know where to find me."

Kurt brusquely shimmied past him through the doorway and hurried down the hall.

"Oh, and Kurt? You would have loved Humphrey."

At that, Kurt turned around just in time to catch Blaine's wink and watch him disappear back into his office. Kurt shook his head and continued down the hall toward his assigned dormitory, grumbling.

"Stupid werewolves."