[A/N: There was an error at one point, where a chapter was uploaded twice, meaning one was missing for a few days. This has since been corrected.

This is part seven of this arc, and the final piece, but I have promised to write more in this 'verse, so if you are interested then I recommend staying tuned for other stories/one shots! Thank you so much for all the feedback!

Also, you should check out laertena's artwork for this series - it's linked on my tumblr masterpost, which is in turn linked on my profile.]

Blaine fought to get out of the hospital wing early the next morning and dashed to breakfast, essentially brushing off Madame Pomfrey's unnecessary and irritated fussing (several first years had accidentally charmed themselves instead of the glass of water they were trying to evaporate, and the results were complicated). By the time he got to the Great Hall it was almost full, and as he passed the Slytherin table he heard one of the Prefects snicker. He kept walking, but started when he heard a sharp noise.

"Is something funny, Matthews? Because until you can either fly in a straight line for more than a minute or form a coherent sentence, I think you should keep your annoying, smug giggles to yourself."

Blaine smiled. Good morning to you too, Kurt.

He turned slightly to see that, surely enough, Kurt was dropping his books onto an empty seat, Santana close behind. She added to his greeting by cuffing Matthews across the head, and rolled her eyes when he started spluttering about detention. She caught Blaine's eye and he thought he saw a flicker of a smile. Then her attention shifted, and he followed her gaze to see a group of Hufflepuff girls entering the hall, Brittany, one of the Hufflepuff chasers, in the lead. Brittany waved at Santana, who only smiled tightly in response before leaning over to talk to one of the other Slytherins.

Well, Blaine thought, turning to join his friends at the Gryffindor table, that explained a great deal.

He greeted his house with enthusiasm, taking hugs and pats on the back, and assured Jeff that he really didn't blame him in the slightest. Trent snorted.

One of the first years piped up from next to David, almost incoherent with giddiness at being involved in the team's conversation.

"Yeah, I mean, it was obviously that other seeker's fault. The serp. Hummel. I mean, if he hadn't have been so close like that, then it never would have happened! Gryffindor for the cup!"

Everyone turned to blink at his unwarranted enthusiasm. Everyone except for Blaine, who had suddenly lost his appetite for the large plate of food in front of him.

"What did you say?"

The boy was being asked for his opinion- by the seeker of the Quidditch team - and he was so excited that his voice was almost a squeak.

"Well, I just said that that serp, Hummel, he was -"

"I heard what you said." Blaine gritted out. "I was just so overcome with indignance and pity for you that I wasn't sure."

"But he -"

"Kurt saved my life."

"But -"

"And if I ever hear you use that word in my presence, you can be certain that you will regret it."

The boy's eyes were wide. He nodded. "Um… sorry." He paused before gathering his things and hurrying off, leaving his eggs untouched.

The rest of the team was staring at Blaine like he'd gone insane.

"What," Nick asked, "was that?"

"Did they give you something in the hospital wing?" Jeff asked. "Because this one time I ate these mushrooms, and -"

"I'm fine," Blaine stated, reaching for a glass and pouring himself some orange juice. "Just tired of all the fighting."

Wes raised an eyebrow. "Well, you certainly scared that first year straight." He looked at Jeff, who had opened his mouth. "Not a word."

Blaine pursed his lips, then looked around the table at the shocked expressions and sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I - I'll talk to him later. Apologize for - but I wasn't wrong."

David touched his arm in what might have been agreement, but Jeff shrugged. "C'mon man. I mean, I get it, and that's noble and all, but they're just Slytherins…"

Blaine let his fork clatter to the table. "No one here is just anything." He looked over at the Slytherin table and saw that Kurt and Santana had vacated their chairs and were crossing the hall to exit through the main doors. Kurt was laughing at something she'd said, and his cheeks were flushed. He looked at his confused teammates, whose faces looked varying degrees of worried, then back at Kurt. He made a decision.

He stood up. "Kurt!"

The boy turned at his name, which had been yelled loudly enough that they had gathered a fair amount of attention, and his eyes widened when he saw Blaine crossing to meet him. His grey eyes flickered briefly to the Gryffindor table.

"Did you need something Bl - Anderson?" he asked, sliding the strap of his shoulder bag further on to his shoulder. Santana stood to the side, looking bored. Blaine saw Finn Hudson at the Hufflepuff table, watching for any sign of trouble. He took an urgent step forward, closing the few feet between them.

"Did you mean it?"

He started, then chuckled. "Mean what?"

"About wanting everyone to know. In the forest, when we - did you mean it?"

Kurt let out a breath of air. "Blaine, everyone can see us," he hissed.

"If you want me to go then I'll go will. But answer the question." He looked him in the eye. "Do you mean it?"

There was uncertainty in Kurt's eyes, and in that moment Blaine realized that he had possibly just screwed things up irrevocably. Because if Kurt didn't -

"Yes," whispered Kurt hurriedly, but resolutely.

Blaine's smile was intantaneous, surprised, and relieved. "Really?"

Kurt gave him a look.

Blaine sighed happily and took another step closer. "Okay then."

And then he brought his hands up to his boyfriend's face, leaned in, and touched their lips softly. It wasn't insistent, wasn't hurried, because a small part of him, the small, scared part that remembered everything bad and was convinced that at any second he could get slapped across the face, or dumped, or cursed into oblivion, that part was savoring the moment with the rest of him - the first moment of contact, with a surprised Kurt responding almost out of habit.

And then Kurt realized what was happening.

And he let his bag drop to the floor.

Blaine was fairly certain that there was a great deal of whispering and outright confusion going on around them - he could hear some of it. But it was a very dulled roar in comparison to his other senses - the softness of Kurt's hand as it ran up his cheek and into his hair, tugging ever so slightly to adjust the angle… the smell of Vanilla… the taste of coffee and blueberry muffin, the chocolate from the coffee a little bitter on his tongue where it met the orange juice his taste buds could still remember. It was delicious - the familiar press of their lips, gentle but deepening as both of them relaxed into the kiss, relaxed intothem, because while this was new (and downright shocking) for those around them, for the two if them it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

Kurt flicked his tongue across his lower lip, and as their tongues tangled Blaine let his arms tighten, realizing that they were going to have to come up for air eventually (though he'd really rather not) and absolutely determined that when that happened Kurt was not escaping anywhere. Unless he really wanted to. Oh, god. What if he wanted to? What if he thought this was a huge mistake and - oh, hi Kurt's tongue. Okay, then. Worry about that later.

Kurt was the one to break the kiss, pulling away slightly after pressing his lips briefly to the corner of Blaine's mouth and murmuring quietly (over the cacophony of noise around them) "So… am I to I gather that you unilaterally decided that we're doing this now?"

Blaine blinked, enjoying the way Kurt's lower lip was ever so slightly pouting. "Uh… I… I thought… I really wasn't thinking. I'm sorry. We should -"

"I'm not sorry," Kurt said, pulling away and fixing his tie. "Okay, let's do this."

At his words Blaine finally turned to take in the reactions to their little display, which ranged across a wide spectrum, from confusion (most of the Hufflepuff table, including Finn, who seemed like he wasn't sure whether he should be playing big brother or not - Blaine thought it was wise that he'd stayed put, as he'd been on the receiving end of Kurt's death glare, and it was nothing to sneeze at, especially when accompanied by a kick to the shin), through complete and utter indifference (Santana, who was still standing a few feet away filing her nails and glancing at Brittany), to outright horror and hostility. It was easy to pick out those on the Slytherin team who knew Kurt best - and, presumably, Blaine thought, while they hadn't known about the two of them, found it more important to read the look on Kurt's face, to see if he was happy or not, than to project outrage. Several of the older Slytherins, Arrcorn included, had shoved their chairs back at the sight, and were making their way over, gesticulating wildly. Blaine felt Kurt's fingers twine more tightly through his. At his own table, closer to them, most of the Gryffindor team was staring at them slack jawed (along with a few whispering first years). Nick and Jeff looked sort of like goldfish, gaping unintelligently. Trent and David were conversing urgently in hushed tones while Wes, whose reaction Blaine wished desperately he could read, was clearly shocked, but also hooded. Blaine hadn't expected that.

"HUMMEL!" Arrcorn was thundering his way across the room, bellowing at the top of his lungs. "HUMMEL, JUST WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, FOR FU-"

"I'm saying good morning to my boyfriend, Arrcorn. Do you have a problemwith that?" Kurt replied coldly, and if it wasn't for the way his hand was being gripped Blaine might have been fooled. He saw Finn rise at the Hufflepuff table and nod to a few of his friends to come over, Mike Chang among them.

"Hummel," Arrcorn hissed, ignoring Blaine entirely, "I don't know what the hell you think you're doing associating with that Gryff scum, but no player on my team-"

"Shut up, Arrcorn," he snapped. "If you don't have anything intelligent to say -"

"Are you calling me stupid, Hummel?"

"You seem to be surprised," Santana offered without emotion. "It certainly wouldn't be the first time."

Arrcorn took a menacing step forward, and Blaine didn't even think before moving to block him, ignoring the pull of Kurt's hand. But it turned out the gesture, however stupid it may have been (seriously, Arrcorn was about four times Blaine's size), was unnecessary, because Blaine found himself stepping forward into a space that was no longer empty.

"Arrcorn," David said smoothly, "I really hope you weren't about to do anything stupid."

Arrcorn sneered. "Mind your own business. Hummel's on my team - shouldn't you be putting the leash on your own seeker? Seems like Hummel's been slumming it with Fido, here, but don't worry. He and I will have a little chat, and I'll make sure that no team member of mine associates with the Gryffindor scum -"

"Don't call him that, " Kurt snapped, earning the attention of the entire group. "And if you have a problem with the people who I choose to gi - to spend my time with, then I can make this very simple."

"Kurt, no," Blaine tugged on his hand. "You don't have to -"

"I quit," Kurt announced without hesitation. Wes' jaw looked like it might detach and actually hit the floor, and the murmurs of everyone eating breakfast in the great hall had dulled as those closest to them speculated about what was happening.

Arrcorn snorted. "You aren't serious. You aren't going to quit the team just because some -"

"Say it and I swear to god I will hex you in front of the entire school," Kurt swore.

"Kurt," Blaine interrupted. "This isn't necessary -"

"Yes it is," Kurt said resolutely. "It's completely necessary, and I'm sorry that I waited this long to say it."

Arrcorn seemed to be realizing that this conversation was not going at all to plan, and was stepping forward threateningly, his gaze focused on Kurt.

There was a loud cough.

"Arrcorn," Wes said carefully, joining the group, "I would point out that the Hogwarts code of conduct clearly states that any person who is deemed responsible for harm to another student is automatically removed from all extra-curricular teams for the remainder of the school year, at which point a disciplinary committee can be called to review the incident."

The large Slytherin's brow furrowed.

"This is your final year at Hogwarts, isn't it?" Wes continued. "You're a seventh year."

"More like a tenth year," Santana muttered.

"It would be a shame if you got stripped of the captaincy at this stage, wouldn't it?" Wes mused.

Arrcorn, ignorant as he was, had always been careful when it came to quidditch. The captaincy meant a lot to him, and it was common knowledge that he was hoping to get drafted by a minor league quidditch team after he left Hogwarts.

"Hummel," he said after a moment. "the team doesn't want-"

Santana stopped filing her nails. "You know, Hummel, I'm just thinking that I've become pretty bored with quidditch recently. And I was talking to Quinn earlier, and she was feeling the same -"

"Lopez," Arrcorn growled, "stay out of this."

"I'm just saying, quidditch is so tiring. I'm not sure I'd feel up for it if the team had to go through the effort of training a new seeker." She shrugged.

Arrcorn looked apoplectic - he didn't have the time to train a new Seeker, let alone an additional beater. He studied the line they had formed, Kurt and Blaine flanked by Santana on one side, and by half the Gryffindor quidditch team on the other.

"We have practice at 8am tomorrow," he eventually spat in Kurt's direction. "Don't be late."

Kurt considered him for a moment. "I'm meeting Blaine to study at noon, so I hope that practice won't run long. I can't have quidditch interfering with more important things."

Arrcorn's eye twitched a little. "We'll practice as long as we need to."

"I'm meeting Britt for lunch at eleven thirty," Santana informed them. "We gots to get our breadsticks on."

"Too easy," Kurt muttered. "Where's 'Cedes when you need her?"

Arrcorn looked over at the Slytherin table, then back to them. "Don't be late," he repeated stiffly, ignoring Blaine entirely.

"Nice talking to you too," Kurt replied in a detached tone as the group disbanded.

"Well, that was fun," Santana pronounced breezily. "I gotta go find Mercedes and fill her in."

"That's code for make out with Brittany in the dungeons," Kurt whispered to Blaine.

Wes cleared his throat and didn't quite meet Kurt's eyes. "You should… you should let me know if you have any problems with him, or anything."

"We got this, Gryff-raff," Santana said in what was probably supposed to be a comforting tone. "We look after our own." She flicked her fingers in Kurt's direction and disappeared out of the hall.

"So do we," David said quietly, and Blaine had never loved his friends more than in that moment. "Why don't you two get out of here, so that everyone can get back to their breakfast?"

He glanced across the hall, which had been preoccupied with the unfolding drama. There were a lot of people looking at them, and Finn was over at the Hufflepuff table being forcibly restrained by Mike, who gave Kurt a thumbs up.

"You're right," Kurt said, looking David and Wes in the eye. "Thank you both. I appreciate it. I know you don't trust me, so it means a lot that - thank you."

Blaine smiled. "Yeah, thanks."

"I suspect this isn't over," Wes warned.

"I know it isn't." Blaine pulled on Kurt's hand again. "Want to get out of here before the rush?"

"Class starts soon," Kurt informed him, adjusting his shoulder bag with his free hand.

"Not for a few minutes."

David pulled Wes back over to the Gryffindor table as Kurt let Blaine tug him towards the doors. All eyes were on them until they made their way to the deserted entrance hall.

"You didn't have to do that," Blaine said, walking through the shadow of the staircase.

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Maybe I just wanted to, did you think of that."

"Everyone knows now."

"You were never very good at subtle," Kurt conceded.

"Are you okay with this?"

Kurt stopped walking. "Yes, I am. Are you?"

"You're gonna get a hard time from some of -"

"I'm not worried," Kurt shrugged. "We're worth it."

The casual way he said it, as though it was obvious, was so much all at once. His injured arm was resting on the strap of his bag, his eyes meeting Blaine's honestly, and Blaine knew that it wasn't going to be easy. It was going to suck sometimes, because they were in different houses, on different teams, and both really, really good, stubborn teenagers. And there would always be people who thought that them loving each other was wrong for whatever reason.

But the thing was, when Kurt looked at him like that, he found it difficult to believe that anything could ever be enough to tear them apart.

"I love you."

Kurt smirked. "You said." He snorted when Blaine pursed his lips. "I love you too."

Blaine leaned in to kiss him, but Kurt stopped him. "Wait."

He pulled them out of the shadow and into the light that reflected off of the marble floor. "Here."

"We aren't a secret anymore," Blaine realized. "I can kiss you now."

"That's the idea."

It was a quick kiss, but that didn't make it any less special. When they pulled apart people were started to leave the great hall, on their way to class.

"Are we still on for tonight?" Blaine asked.

"We had plans tonight?"

"I want to see you."

"You're seeing me right now."

"You know what I mean."

Kurt smirked again as he backed away to head to the dungeons. "Eight."

"Where?"

"Where do you think?" he asked incredulously.

Blaine's eyebrows furrowed. "But everyone knows. We can -"

"And we will," Kurt interrupted. "We will display our fabulousness to the world… starting tomorrow." He shrugged nonchalantly. "But I thought it might be nice if we had some alone time tonight…"

Blaine was rapidly becoming enamored with this idea.

"Yeah," he breathed. "Okay. How about seven?"

"Don't be late," Kurt smiled mischievously as he turned to go, raising his fingers in a brief, subconscious goodbye. "Hey, Blaine?"

"Yeah?"

"I can't wait for tonight."

Blaine watched his boyfriend saunter off before dedicating himself to finding the make-up work he needed to turn in to Professor Banks. He was halfway down the corridor, ignoring stares and planning his outfit for that night when he realized that he could not stop smiling.

It felt like magic.