Kurt woke early on Sunday to the gurgle of a group of merpeople outside his window. He couldnt tell the time based on the water pressing in against the glass or the schools of fish going past, but that was typical. Down in the Slytherin dungeons everything was rather dreary, and despite the lights outside the windows they were too deep in the lake for sunlight.

One particularly gruff looking merman swam by, shrieking in his eerie language as several grindylows gave chase.

Across the long room, Sebastian groaned.

"Tell him to shove off, Hummel, unless hes got an epic cock pressed against that glass."

Kurt ignored him and shut the window-side curtains around his four-poster. Most nights he left that side open—had since his first year. Six years ago, as hed climbed into his silky green bed, hed discovered he had the best view in the room. While the other boys beds were all in a row to his left, his right was a large bay window with a beautiful, hazy green view of the lake. The other boys had grown tired of the constant night light, but for Kurt it was a reminder of the street lights that filtered in through the curtains of his room at home.

He dug his watch out of the robes hed left draped over the foot of his bed and checked the time. Five in the morning. The only ones awake right now would be the house elves and the Hufflepuff Quidditch team. Well, maybe. After yesterdays victory they might have the morning off. Kurt hoped Blaine did. Then he could rest before they met up later.

A small grin lit up his face for a moment. Blaine was his friend. They were going to be friends and study together and then—

And then it would be over as quickly as it had begun. Kurt sat up and pulled his robe over his shoulders and arms. He should tell Blaine. Tell him that hed been the one writing and that hed abandoned him in that muddy, frigid street in Hogsmeade. All because he was too afraid of his friends reaction. Too much of a coward just like the rest of his house.

"SCREEEUUUUGHH!"

The merman was back. Kurt peered through his curtains at him as Sebastian hurled something at the window.

"Shut up, you stupid fish!"

The other boys continued to snore, Brett loudly, the others softly. Kurt climbed out of bed and got dressed. The sooner he got up, the sooner his day could begin.

"Just put a charm on the window again," Kurt said as he pulled his warmest sweater from his wardrobe. "Yours always last longer."

"Because he pisses me off."

Sebastian appeared, his lips pulled back in a snarl and his wand in hand. He took aim at the window as Kurt grabbed his cloak and bag. The merman sped away at the sight of the wand, but Sebastian cast his usual spell on the window anyway.

"Thatll last until we get back from break in January," Kurt said. "Get back to bed."

Sebastian flopped down on his bed and kicked his way under his blankets. But he didnt shut his curtains.

"Where are you going?"

"Got work to do."

"Its, like, dawn," Sebastian said. He yawned and glanced at his clock on the night-stand. "Merlin, Hummel, its Sunday. Cant you get up at eleven with everyone else?"

"Blame your mer-boyfriend. See you later."

Kurt headed up the spiral stairs into the common room and decided to head up for a very early breakfast. The halls and banisters were lined with the usual never-melting icicles and garland for Christmas. Break was only a week away. Kurt wasnt staying this year, but, as always, he wished he was. Hogwarts was beautiful at Christmas time. Hed only stayed once during his third year, but hed loved the two short weeks spent roaming the castle and the grounds.

The Great Hall was empty when he arrived. Kurt took a seat at the empty Slytherin table but no food appeared. He tried to request some to his plate, but after a few minutes, gave up. The kitchens then. Finn had discovered them the same year hed hit his real growth spurt and their parents had gotten married.

He went down the stairs to the left of the grand staircase and tried to recall Finns directions from a Transfiguration class long forgotten.

"You just, like, tickle this pear and it giggles, Kurt. Like—"

"Hudson, Hummel, pay attention."

Kurt stomped on Finns foot and went back to transfiguring his rabbits into slippers, but Finn wouldnt shut up. His rabbits had already hopped away toward the door and Finn couldnt care less. His eyes were bright with delight.

"Its down that weird staircase next to the big one in the entrance—"

"Hudson, ten points from Gryffindor. Move to this desk with Mercedes, and chase down your rabbits, for Merlins sake!"

Kurt chuckled to himself as he reached the basement passage. Hed expected more chilly, dreary dungeons like the stairs that led to his common room, but this one was well lit and lined with portraits of every type of food imaginable.

As he walked, Kurt admired each one. A roast pork surrounded by goblins; a tray of what looked like cheeses and fruits; several bottles of various wizard beverages—butterbeer, Fire Whiskey, Fishy Green Ale. He was so intrigued that he didnt realized someone else was in the corridor until he ran right into them.

"Umph!"

Kurt fell flat on his backside, his bag thumping down beside him. He looked up to snap at the person and found Blaine staring down at him, bleary eyed and tousle-haired.

"Sorry, Kurt. I tried to-o-o-o-o—" Blaine let out a huge yawn and helped Kurt to his feet. "Was too busy yawning to get your attention. Sorry. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, Im fine. I—its a bit early to be up," he said eyeing Blaines rumpled appearance and tired eyes. "Chang isnt forcing you lot to practice, is he?"

"Nah, got a letter to mail. Figured Id get up before they could—I like it early, even if Im tired. Its quieter. I get to spend some time with Queen in the Owlery, have a nice, quiet breakfast."

Kurt shouldered his bag. "Good luck with that. Great Halls still empty. I was coming down here to the kitchens to get something."

"The kitchens?"

"Isnt that why youre down here?"

Blaine shook his head and Kurt stared past him, noticing for the first time the large circle of wood at the end of the corridor. It looked like the lid of a troll-sized barrel, but it could easily be a common room entrance. Was the Hufflepuff common room down here? Judging by Blaines half-asleep expression it must be. He couldnt have made it very far like this.

"No, um, my—the dormitory—Hufflepuff is down here. I should go—"

"Do you want to get breakfast? Together, I mean." Kurt flushed and stared at his shoes. "We could eat and then sneak some food up to our owls or something. If you want I mean—you dont—"

"Thatd be great."

Kurt jumped as Blaines hand reached out and squeezed his. He watched their fingers lace together, met Blaines eyes, and tried to smile just as brightly. It wasnt easy when his entire body felt queasy. From guilt and butterflies, Kurt figured it was a mixture of the two. How could he keep this charade going any longer when Blaine trusted him so readily?

"So where are the kitchens then? Sam knows, but hes always refused to tell me."

"Um, well, Im going on three year old directions from my step-brother," Kurt admitted. "He said something about tickling a pear?"

Blaine smiled widely. "The fruit bowl painting. Over here."

Blaine led him down the corridor to a painting of several oranges, apples, a pineapple, and a pear nestled together in a large bowl. Unlike the majority of the paintings in the upper levels of the castle this one—along with the entire corridor—didnt move.

"The pear, you said?"

"Yeah."

Blaine reached out and scratched his finger against the only pear in the painting. For a second, nothing happened, but then the pear wiggled, let out an unmistakable giggle, and turned into a door knob.

"After you," Blaine said.

Kurt pulled the door open and led the way. Immediately a dozen house elves were around their knees, several trays being passed over their heads until they reach Kurt and Blaine.

"Good morning, sirs!" squeaked a young elf by Kurts left knee. "We heard you ordering, but tis too early to serve the hall!"

"Morning," Blaine said as he accepted the first of three trays.

Kurt took the second and his stomach grumbled. Fried eggs, toast, a platter of sausages, tomatoes, marmalade… Blaine took a seat where another group of house elves directed him, Kurt following amongst the bobbing heads of the house elves. They both began to eat, with several other trays joining the first two.

"Sam always likes to make a fuss about how hard it is to get food from the kitchens but—wow thanks. Thats all we need. This is more than enough and its delicious. Thank you so much, all of you."

The elves beamed and bowed. Kurt nodded at them too, but he watched the excitement of Blaines praise light up their faces. His father, despite being a squib, had spent a number of years working to give house elves better living conditions and rights. Kurt had never even seen one up close until now. They were a lot smaller than hed imagined—very thin and almost fragile looking, but just as eager to please as everyone had always described them.

"I always forget Hogwarts has so many house elves," Kurt said as Blaine carefully cut his sausages into smaller bites. "My dad says theyve got the best home of any house elves, but they should all still get paid for their work."

Blaine nodded, pausing to stare around at them all. Most of them were still hard at work cooking, but the rest were cleaning the four long tables that they must have used to transport food to the Great Hall. As the first dishes went upstairs, Kurt frowned.

"My brother thinks theyre funny," Blaine admitted. "He has two, but theyre more like bag handlers than for the usual household chores. Mom always lectures him about it, but I figure they have it better with him than say with Smythes family."

Kurts frown deepened. "Sebastians never said he has any."

"He does," Blaine said. "A family that old and rich always does. Besides, his dad works for my mom. Says hes always banging on about how useless their house elves are getting in their old age."

"But you dont have any?"

Blaine shook his head. "No. I mean, my moms parents did, but once they died and Mom had control of the estate, she refused to have any. Said its not right, even if theyre willing, to enslave another creature."

"Good. Thats—my dad was involved in a movement for their rights a long time ago," Kurt said. "I imagine he probably still is. He used to say he understood them better than wizards, in a way, being a squib and all. Hes misplaced and taken advantage of by most of us too. Not given the same standing with the ministry or able to run for positions on committees."

"Thats ridiculous. Were all part of the same world, we should all be equal and have a say. But he makes one hell of a broom," Blaine said with a smile. "Mom refuses to buy anywhere else now."

"Is that why youre still riding that old Firebolt 620?"

Blaine laughed, a squeaky, squinty-eyed little laugh. "No. Thats just—my old favorite. Custom made. Moms been driving me mad about getting a new one. I mean, I did grow a lot since last year, so Im definitely in the market for a new one. Maybe over break I can stop by and you can, um, show me the best models?"

Maybe it was his imagination, but Blaines cheeks turned pink at his words. Perhaps hed taken the same meaning from that sentence as Kurt had.

Face warm, Kurt nodded as Blaines hand tentatively reached across the table for his once more. As their fingers brushed a rush of calmness settled in Kurts stomach. This was safe—this was right. "Yeah, sure. Thatd be—I mean, Dad knows the specs better and the quality, but Ive ridden them all so—"

Blaines smile was hesitantly bright for a moment. "So, its a date?"

Kurt nodded again, even has his stomach tumbled and his throat tightened. Blaine was—probably—asking him out. Kind of. Kurt wasnt sure if he truly was or not, but he did know one important thing: He was still lying to Blaine.

Or not being forthright with certain truths. That wasnt the same thing, right? Lying meant Blaine would ask him directly and he hadnt. But still…

As they finished and headed up to the Owlery and then the library together, now discussing their Charms assignment and their favorite Muggle musicians. Kurt couldnt help but wonder if it was better to tell Blaine the truth now or to wait until they knew each other better. Or to never say anything. It could be a fleeting comment years from now, perhaps if they got married and became the typical old married couple. He could just mention it in passing then, a silly moment from the past—a pang that would have healed plenty by then.

Yet he couldnt do that to Blaine. Couldnt live with himself without being honest at some point. But his moment never came that morning. Every time he focused enough to start working the words from his throat, Blaine asked him something else—whether homework related or about Quidditch. By late afternoon, they had packed up their books and were in the corridor outside of the empty library.

Blaine paused, one hand messing with the strap of his bag. "Ill see you in class?"

Blaine was still smiling. He never seemed to stop. All morning and afternoon his grin had been a blinding beacon that kept Kurts stomach in pleasant knots. More than once their hands had brushed and their feet had caught under the table, but neither of them had been bold enough to do anything more. It was flirting—Kurt was sure of that now—but he couldnt bring himself to go any further.

"Yeah, of course. And at Dads shop. Over break, I mean."

Blaine nodded, his eyes bright and so unblinking that it was almost unnerving. He seemed to be steeling himself for something, and just as Kurt was ready to say goodbye and head to dinner, Blaine leaned in and kissed him.

Their kiss was firm and dry. Kurt had a moment to inhale against Blaines cheek—let his raspberry and spearmint scent fill his head—before it was over. Blaine was bright red as he took a step back.

"Well, see you."

And he hurried off. Kurt watched until he was out of sight, almost running the length of the corridor. He took a heavy seat on the nearest window ledge.

His first kiss. His only kiss. Blaine had kissed him—he liked him and—

Kurt was lying to him. Keeping something so important and harsh he couldnt allow the wonderful tingle in his lips to last. He had to tell him. If he didnt hed destroy himself instead of the little bud of friendship theyd already made.