Kurt shouldered his broom and examined himself in the mirror in the Quidditch locker rooms. In ten minutes, tryouts began. The Hufflepuff team was just finishing up, Blaine swooping and diving in loops and swerves all over the stadium to gasps and boos from the students—mostly Slytherins—who had come to watch.

As more footsteps thundered overhead, Kurt turned to look himself over. He looked good in his house colors. Hed look even better once he had an official Slytherin uniform. The door swung open on the locker room and the Hufflepuff team trooped in, sweaty and smelling of dirt. Blaine spotted him and beamed.

Kurts stomach turned over as he pulled at his green sweater.

"It looks fine," Blaine said. He set his broom down beside Kurt and gave him a once over. "Shouldnt you be on the field?"

Kurt swallowed and nodded. He could beat Rachel, even with all of his house here to watch. By yesterday afternoon, every last one of them had heard he was trying to steal her spotlight. Rachel was furious. Shed spent all of dinner stabbing anything that came close to her plate, and when theyd all returned to the common room shed given everyone a long rant about how awful he was as a friend.

"Um, y-yeah." Kurt adjusted his sleeves and robes, checked the laces on his boots.

"Good luck. Youre going to be great."

Even Blaine couldnt convince him of that, but when he turned to Blaine he was met with a kind smile. For one fleeting moment, he felt braver.

"Everyones out there," Kurt said instead of thanking him.

Blaine nodded. "Theyve been pouring in for the last twenty minutes. Hey, come on. Youve got this, right? Way I hear it, you wanted to try out first year, so you must be good. Just show them what youve got."

Kurt breathed deeply and tried to nod, but he only jerked his head down. He could do this. He had to. Now that he was here, hed never live it down if he didnt go out onto that field.

"If youre going to be sick—"

"Im not." Kurt shook his head a little and glanced at Blaine. His mouth fell open. Blaine was beside him, sweaty, smiling, and now shirtless. His Quidditch jersey was on the bench beside them. "I-I-I…"

Sebastians head appeared in the doorway. Fortunately, Blaine was blocked from his sight by the lockers.

"Get your arse out here, Hummel! I am not forfeiting this spot to Berry because youre too busy checking yourself out in the mirror."

Blaine shrugged at him, nodded his head towards the doorway. "Good luck!"

Kurt tried to nod again, but ended up back pedaling and watching the shifting muscles of Blaines abdomen, the tight leanness of his chest, and the impressive tapering from his shoulders to his waist. He swallowed, almost tripped himself, and hurried onto the field.

"Anyone who thinks theyre a Seeker over here," Sebastian was hollering. "That means you, Berry. Youre no Seeker of mine with that attitude."

Kurt followed the surprisingly small group over to where Sebastian had pointed. Himself, Rachel, and two girls, probably third or fourth years. He supposed anyone with interest had decided to try antoher position once the rumors had spread about him and Rachel battling for the spot. Nobody would want to get between them.

Sebastian continued dividing everyone up into their positions, and then began trial runs with Keepers.

"This is ridiculous," Rachel muttered. She sunk onto the bench at the edge of the pitch and glowered at him. "And all because you think youre so much better than me. Ill have you know, Hummel, that Im—"

"Spare me a repeat of last night," Kurt said. "Im trying out because I want to play, not because youre a selfish little—"

Blaine stepped out of the locker rooms, waved, and headed up into the stands. Rachel snarled.

"Whys Anderson staying? And whos he waving—oh my god." Rachel stared at a spot ten foot from the direction of Blaines wave, which happened to be right where Sebastian was standing. "Are Smythe and Anderson—no way. No way. Thats what this is about?"

Kurts stomach knotted as Rachel talked herself into some ludicrous scenario. He listened for a few minutes as Rachel deduced that Sebastian and Blaine were snogging, and that Blaine—sweet, kind Blaine—had convinced Sebastian to hold Seeker tryouts to find someone "better". Which to Rachel meant someone who was awful so that Blaine could guarantee Hufflepuff won the Quidditch Cup in the spring.

Kurt snorted and rolled his eyes. But he was glad she hadnt noticed the wave was aimed his direction. Part of him wished it hadnt been. Secret letters were one thing, but all of a sudden they were talking, being friendly… and then what? If they were friends that would draw attention, and Kurts friends would have something to say about it. He shifted his legs, pulled one over the other, then dropped it back to the ground and draped his broom across his lap.

"Do you even listen to yourself?" Kurt asked. "Do you really think Anderson, of all people, could think that up? Hes smart, sure, but hes a Hufflepuff, not a conniving little Slytherin. Last week, I spotted him helping some first year who was crying because shed tripped down the stairs."

"Hes competitive enough," Rachel said. Her eyes followed Blaine into the stands and she glared at him as he sat off on his own at the top. "I bet hes here to sabotage me. Hell use some sort of spell so Im awful. Like a-a Confundus Charm or—"

"Stop chatting and get up, Berry!" Sebastians voice carried over the muttering crowd of Chasers. "Youre up first for Seeker."

"And Ill be the first choice, too!"

Rachel huffed and took flight. Kurt watched her trial. All around the stadium, Sebastian had everyone from the Keeper tryouts in a circle, each with golf balls in hand to throw one after the other as they flew around the stadium. The goal for each Seeker was to catch as many as possible within two minutes while weaving amongst the Keepers. Any that were caught would turn green, and those that werent turned red.

Despite Kurts certainty, he had to admit that Rachel was good. She swerved and dived smoothly, caught and released one after the other, but she missed several in the middle, lost her rhythm, and ended by missing six of the last ten. When she landed, a third of the golf balls on the ground were red. Kurts chest tightened. If that was the best she had in her today, then he was golden.

Rachel stomped off into the locker room instead of waiting around. Sebastian had the two younger girls go next, and they werent bad, but werent any better than Rachel. They each split the field with green and red.

"Hummel, youre up!"

Kurt stood, his legs shaking and his eyes scanning the stands until he saw Blaine. He was on his feet, that enormous smile still on his face, and for a moment, Kurt could see them. Together, happy, strolling around the lake or in Hogsmeade on a date. They could be everything he pictured if hed stop being so afraid of his friends—of losing all of them and being judged and ridiculed by the entire school.

He mounted his broom and took off, leaving the fluttering in his stomach on the ground. For the last week, hed been out here flying and practicing. Being in the air was a relief. This was the one thing he would always be able to do.

Sebastians whistle blew and Kurt took off. He dove for the first, his eyes already tracking the next on his left. For two minutes, he swooped and loop-de-looped and dived and rolled, catching one and then another. By the end of his time, the field below was littered with bright green golf balls and a handful of red ones.

The Slytherins in the stands roared their approval. Kurt returned to the ground where Sebastian stood nodding and smirking. The two younger girls were frowning as they left. Rachel didnt return.

"Well, thats a relief," Sebastian said as he began running the tryouts for Beaters. "Well get you suited in a uniform tomorrow. Rachels reserve, unfortunately, since those kids sucked, so keep an eye when shes near. Knowing her, shell use an Unforgivable on you."

"Right," Kurt said. He grinned despite himself. "Whens the first practice?"

"Tuesday night. Well talk more over dinner. Oi, Lancaster! Get moving or you wont be back on my team!"

It was only when Kurt was showered and back in his dormitory that he remembered Blaine. Hed left without a word to Blaine, and even as that same fantasy of Hogsmeade dates and sharing a frothy butterbeer flickered before him, he was glad he had. He wasnt ready to… be what? He was out, had been for years. Being openly gay had never been a problem for him. Not at home with his dad or Carole or Finn, and not here at Hogwarts.

But this was different. This was crossing house lines, breaking thousand year old traditions, maybe even breaking all of his friendships to pieces. It meant being lonely and miserable and even resenting each other if they worked out long enough to date. Because they would hate each other, how couldnt they if all of their friends turned on them for being together?

Leaving without a word had been for the best. They could be romantic in letters, even if Blaine didnt know who he was. It was better that way. But as Kurt lay down on his bed he realized nothing that he wanted with them could happen if he kept them distanced with letters. He sighed and sat up, his stomach tight. So far, Blaine hadnt replied to his last, and maybe he never would. Maybe it was better to let them fade out now rather than later.

Kurt pulled out a scroll of parchment to write his father and Carole about his tryout, and was interrupted by Dave Karofsky poking his head in.

"Your owls been having a fit in the stairwell," he said as McQueen soared in. "Looks like youve got a letter."

Kurt stomach twisted. The only person who would write to him was Blaine. His dads reply had come yesterday, which meant—

"Oh, thanks."

Dave left as McQueen settled on his shoulder and dropped the letter in his beak. Kurt watched it roll of his lap and onto his emerald bedspread. Only Blaine rolled his letters up and tied them off. His dad haphazardly folded them, Caroles were in envelopes, and the Daily Prophet was much too big for this.

He took a deep breath and untied the scroll.

Dear Slytherin Admirer,

Wait, that probably sounds accusatory, doesnt it? Sorry! I was just trying to think of a nickname or something based on what I know, and well… I guess that one doesnt work, but thats all I really know about you.

I dont have any problems with you being in Slytherin—it doesnt matter to me—but I think I understand why youre scared to meet. Ive dealt with my fair share of Slytherins from being on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team and most of them—but not you!—arent very nice. But I dont think my friends would care that youre in Slytherin. They might be surprised, but theyd come around because if Im happy, then theyre happy for me. I hope your friends are like that, but from the way you spoke, I cant help but think they arent.

Regardless of it we ever meet—though I hope someday youll have the courage to—I want to keep writing. To get to know you, but as friends. I mean, Im flattered that you like me, but I cant set my heart on letters. On maybe only letters. Which doesnt mean Im going to be running around dating every boy I see, but I think its best to do this as friends first? Until youre (hopefully) ready to meet and go on a date?

Im sorry, that probably doesnt sound anything like what Im trying to say. I want to know you, because youre very sweet, but I dont want to set myself on just you if theres no guarantees of this ever, well, being real. If I dont ever get to know your face or name. Im hoping we can work towards that?

Anyway, what do you like to do? Do you like Quidditch? Whats your favorite subject? Um, favorite color? Do you have siblings?

Those are all really lame questions, arent they? Oh, well, I just want to know you. Beyond that youre a Slytherin and romantic.

Sincerely,

Blaine

Kurt set the letter aside when he was finished. Just friends. That was comfortable, safe. Perhaps that was better than being overly romantic with a boy he couldnt manage to tell his name to. At least, not when it was connected with these letters and more than short conversations in class. He stretched out on his bed and read the letter once more, a little prickle sharp in his belly.

Only friends because he didnt have the guts to confess himself to Blaine directly, but it was a start and Blaine—Merlin, was he always so patient and kind? He was willing to wait, to know him before he met him, to give him a chance. That had to mean hed made a wonderful impression on him, right? That Blaine, despite his hesitations, wanted more if Kurt gave them the chance.

Kurt wrote back that evening. He answered all of Blaines questions—sing and listen to my favorite Muggle music, study magic, read fashion magazines, design clothing; yes, my whole family loves Quidditch; History of Magic even though Professor Binns is boring as all get out; Green, but purple is a very close second; a brother my age who goes here, too—and asked a few of his own. He poised the same to Blaine, and asked more about what he did outside of school and Quidditch.

For two weeks they wrote, day after day, letter after letter. Before long, the questions turned to real conversations, sometimes about homework assignments or problems with spells, and other times about their families, coming out, and Blaines brothers latest spread in Wizard of the Robes newest issue.

—those abs are so fake, okay? I know my brothers stomach better than mine own. Hes only been strutting around the world with no shirt on since he was thirteen, and those? Airbrushed like the Muggles do. Or some sort of spell. He wont tell me which, but I know Im right. He keeps sending me pictures in his letters of him flexing like hes the hottest man on the planet. That spot is rightfully claimed by Adam Levine—do you know who he is? Hes gorgeous. Much more so than my fake-abs brother.

Anyway, class is almost over and Sam keeps trying to read this over my shoulder. Can you believe its been almost two months since you wrote that first time? And, well, I know you havent mentioned it, but… I was wondering where you stood on meeting? They just posted the first Hogsmeade date this morning for Halloween, and—not that you have to, and I dont want to rush you—I was hoping you might accompany me? On a date, I mean?

Its okay if you say no. Ill understand, but I guess I just… want more than letters. More than secretive friendship. I… I want to meet you and hold your hand in Hogsmeade and go to that stupid little poofie chair shop and blush until we cant stop giggling.

I hope Ill hear from you again. I hope this isnt too much too soon for you.

- Blaine

Kurt stared at the letter as he sat down in his Arithmancy class. A date. With Blaine. The boy hed been writing to more than hed ever written to anyone, but that hed stopped talking to in person. It wasnt as if they had many chances to speak to each other, but then Kurt had been making every effort to avoid him, too. Three lunging paces to get out of sight in the hall, eating meals when he knew Blaine wasnt in the Great Hall, even being late for Quidditch on Sunday mornings so that Blaine had cleared off with the rest of the Hufflepuffs. The only time he really had to see Blaine was in Care of Magical Creatures, and with Santana and Brittany so busy trying to sneak off to snog it was easy to say very little to him.

"Youre looking misery," Mercedes Jones said as she took the seat beside him. She was in Gryffindor with his step-brother, Finn, and despite being friends outside of Hogwarts, this was the only class they spoke to each other in. "Youve been grinning like youre about to explode for weeks. Whats up?"

Kurt pulled his supplies out of his bag and shook his head. "Nothing. Just… its nothing."

"Mhmm. Its a boy, isnt it?"

"What? No!"

Mercedes laughed until the bell rang. She opened her book, and leaned towards him. "It is. I know that look on your face. Everyone in our year has that look on their face."

"So? That doesnt mean…" Kurt blushed and scribbled down what was being written on the board.

"Are you going to spill? Or am I going to have to ask Finn?"

"Its… you can keep a secret, right? Like, a really huge secret that absolutely nobody can ever know?"

Mercedes set her quill down and looked at him. "Whats going on?"

"Theres, um, well, I started writing to this boy. As his secret admirer," Kurt said and Mercedes beamed. "Only he doesnt know who I am."

"Hes at Hogwarts? Hes not, like, in Morocco or something?"

"No, no, hes… hes in our year. Hes… Merlin, Mercedes, hes wonderful and beautiful, only Ive been too scared to tell him who I am because—"

"Because of your dumb housemates," Mercedes finished. "Seriously, I know youre supposed to, like, be one of them, but youre more than just a Slytherin. How else could we be friends?" She shrugged. "I mean, I get it. Its the same reason we dont hang out constantly, but if you two like each other, then I say go for it."

"He asked me to Hogsmeade this weekend. For Halloween," Kurt said, and he pulled the letter from his pocket but didnt open it. "I—Ill lose all of them. Maybe even my Quidditch spot. My entire house will—but I want to say yes. I dont know what to do."

"Follow your heart," Mercedes said. "Be a Gryffindor for once in your life, even if you are a Slytherin."

"But—"

"Stop thinking about it, and start doing what you want to," she said. "Youre only hurting yourself and him. Besides, Slytherin robes or not, youre just as much of a Gryffindor from what Ive seen."

Kurt snorted. "A Gryffindor whos too scared to go out with a boy he likes? Yeah, right."

"What does being afraid have to do with whether or not youre courageous? Or fool-hardy, for that matter. Say yes," Mercedes said. "You march your butt down to Hogsmeade on Saturday morning, and you introduce yourself and kiss him until youre both blushing. And then come find me after and give me all the details."

Kurt tucked the letter back into his pocket. "I dont know."

"Well, whatever you do, I think it was very brave to write him as a secret admirer. And romantic."

"Depends on how you look at it," Kurt said. Hed done that to avoid the same thing he was still avoiding, not to be brave or romantic. Well, maybe a little romantic. "Hes in my next class."

Mercedes grinned as they turned to the next chapter in their books. "You can always tell him yes face to face then."

Kurt swallowed and set his quill down. His hands were shaking. He kept picturing the looks on his friends faces—Santana, Sebastian, Brittany, even Rachel—when they found out he was on a date with Blaine Anderson, a Hufflepuff and their Quidditch enemy.

"Or just write back," Mercedess gentle voice said. Her hand grabbed his and held them still. "But nobody who really likes you is going to care as long as youre happy."

"I—yeah, right." He sniffled and pulled his hands away. "Thanks. I—his names—"

"Blaine," Mercedes said and she giggled at the shocked look on Kurts face. "Ive seen you watching him in Defense when Rachel isnt looking. And he is beautiful. If he wasnt gay, Id ask him myself."

"Youre the best, you know that?"

"I do. Even if we dont eat breakfast together. Now are you going to write him back or what?"

Kurt ripped off a piece of parchment. For a few minutes, he tried to respond to everything Blaine had written, to keep their conversation going as usual. But this was a big deal and it clogged him. Instead, he wrote one word at the end of class before he and Mercedes headed up to the Owlery.

Yes.