Title: Dark Side of the Moon

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Language, dark adult themes, violence

Spoilers: None

Word Count: 2,400

Summary: At Hogwarts, Kurt and Blaine, two wizards with dark secrets begin to discover something dark brewing in the Wizarding World. They and their friends will be forced to question the differences of good and evil, and at times, even themselves. Glee/Hogwarts.

A/N: Okay, so no Klaine interaction in this one, but there's more of the Unholy Trinity. In fact, there's three trinities mentioned in this one! I tried to add some fluff and humor, so let me know how I did! Reviews are love!

The month of September flew by for the students of Hogwarts, and before they knew it, they were facing the first Quidditch match of the season, and the pressure was mounting. Particularly for the Slytherin Quidditch team.

"Aw hell to the no! Fabray, I know you can do better than that!" Mercedes Jones, the Captain of the Slytherin team was currently trying to whip their team into shape at their last ditch practice. Emphasis on the ditch.

Quinn glared at her friend and Captain, and soared over to Kurt. "Tell me why you weren't made the Captain again? Everyone knows you should have gotten it, we've never lost a match with you, and you've been on the team since second year." It was the Slytherins' pride and joy, since they were pretty much eliminated from the running for House Cup before the year even started. Everyone knew that the teachers already had the points system rigged in their minds. Ironically, Sue Sylvester was the only one who was ever fair. She never gave points, period. It was no prejudice against Slytherins, just her natural hatred of students.

Kurt shrugged, and kept his eyes peeled for the Snitch, which he had already caught eight times in the past hour. "Because I don't give a damn. I do my job, but I don't care about anyone else. Well, I care about my teammates, but if it's not you, San, or Mercy who are knocked off your brooms, I don't bother to look. If it's one of you guys, I might pause to check sure that you're not bleeding to death."

Quinn rolled her eyes at the brunette. "You're absolutely charming. But why Mercy? I love her to death, but honestly, if she drills into us any more, I'm going to have to kill her." She sent a death glare the Keeper's way, while Mercedes wasn't looking.

Kurt shrugged. "She's got a lot to live up to though. I mean, Thad was our Captain for three years, and even though we were winning before that, he made us amazing. Plus, with Jeff and Flint screwing around," he gestured sharply to the other two Chasers who were currently dive bombing the awed first years with dungbombs, "we really haven't gotten much done. The match is tomorrow, and we've barely made any progress."

Santana soared over to the pair and snorted. "Who needs progress? We didn't get any new members this year, it's the same team, except for my new Beater partner. Besides, we've got you as our Seeker, Cedes as our Keeper, and me and Zizes as the badass Beaters. Plus Quinn as Chaser." She tacked on the last statement as an afterthought, and the blonde rolled her eyes at the Latina witch.

Kurt arched his eyebrow. "What about Flint and Jeff?" All three of them turned their heads, just in time to see the two boys engaging each other in a tickle fight, which resulted in the two of them tumbling into the mud.

Santana rolled her eyes. "As long as Wilson and Sterling manage to keep their brain damage to themselves, we should be fine. Quinn's our best scorer, and Mercy can keep guard of the hoops. It's basically all on you to win us the match.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Gee, thanks." He said sarcastically. As if he didn't know. The pressure was always on for the Seeker. Ninety percent of the time, the fate of the match depended on him. And having dealt with that since he was twelve, he could honestly say that it did not get easier with time.

"Hummel! Lopez! Fabray! Get back in positions, or I swear, I will have you running wind sprints until graduation!" Mercedes shouted, glowering at the three Slytherin Quidditch players who were currently unoccupied with doing anything, other than focusing solely on their chitter chatter. All three of them rolled their eyes, and Kurt lazily reached out an arm, plucking the Snitch from what seemed like midair, without even glancing at it, much to the envy of the team, and the spectators.

"Someone needs to lock her up in Azkaban." Santana muttered. "She's been spending way too much time around Professor Sylvester. That's what we get for having a Transfiguration nut as a Captain." Professor Sue Sylvester was known for her creative and eloquent insults-perhaps why she had such a soft spot for Kurt, though she would forever deny it-which often included threatening students to make them run wind sprints along the Quidditch Pitch.

"Please. If it were Sylvester, you know that she would figure out a way to keep us here past graduation, and into our seventies." Kurt said with a snort. "That lady is batshit crazy. Yet for some reason, I'm fond of her."

Another piercing sound was blown from Mercedes' whistle, and the three companions all scattered, to continue training in preparation for their upcoming game. Though what they really needed to do was spy on the other team for any strategies or tricks.

Merlin knew they needed it.

XxXx

"Remind me, why did you wake me up at six in the morning to prepare for a game I have no interest in?" Blaine asked his two friends wearily? And yeah, he probably owed it to them for being an ass, but when they had all realized what was the driving force, they had quickly forgiven him. If only Kurt could be so gracious.

"Because, we want to see Slytherin get creamed! Besides, it's Quidditch! You love Quidditch! And watching the teams, and seeing their moves in a public, non-espionage setting-which is perfectly legal-would totally give us an edge at our next game!" David crowed happily, and Blaine blearily rubbed his eyes, stumbling his way onto a bench, and trying to butter his toast. When he realized that he was attempting to spread bacon on top of the bread, he gave up, and settled for plunking his head down on the wooden table.

"But it's early! And we don't care! We already know that Hufflepuff is going to get destroyed, there's really no hope for them. So why go and watch? It's the same team from last year, except for that new Beater."

David sighed exasperatedly, and rolled his eyes. "But Blaine! It's Quidditch! Who cares who's playing? And just because they're pretty much the same team doesn't mean they have to reuse their same strategies!"

This time, it was Wes who rolled his eyes at David. "Uh, yeah, they do. Their strategy is to have Miss Priss Head Girl score as many goals as possible, and then have Hummel catch the golden Snitch without even trying."

Blaine immediately perked up at the sound of Kurt's name, something which Wes and David immediately caught on to. "What's your deal with Hummel anyways?" Wes inquired suspiciously. "I mean, you have been acting really weirdly about him. Are you like in love with him or something?"

Rolling his hazel eyes, Blaine shook his head. "No. I'm with Jeremiah, you guys know that. But Kurt's nice. He's different, and I think we could have been friends, before I blew it. I mean, you guys know what I'm like around that time, but Kurt doesn't, and he wasn't about to put up with it."

David raised an eyebrow. "I dunno Blaine, you've been kind of obsessing over him lately. So you blew it with him. This seems like a whole lot of effort just for someone who could be a potential friend." He thought his logic was sound, until Blaine countered him.

"So you're saying that you guys never went through any effort being my friend?" Blaine questioned skeptically, raising an eyebrow.

Wes sighed. "I'm not saying that. But it's seventh year. You've never really interacted with anyone besides me and David, outside of Quidditch, and the Gobstones Club. Do you really want to start 'making friends' now?"

Blaine simply looked at his two friends. "No time like the presence. I didn't realize that there was a time limit of when I could make friends." And with those parting words, Blaine began striding off to the Quidditch Pitch, leaving a sighing Wes and David behind.

"What are we going to do with him? He falls so hard, and something tells me he's going to become absolutely smitten with Hummel." David said with a sigh, watching his best friend's back dejectedly. Wes shrugged.

"Well, right now he's obsessed with Jeremiah. And Hummel isn't talking to him. So it's not a problem. Blaine can be an ass around that time, and rumors have it that Hummel's a bitch. So we probably won't have any issues with them."

"Yeah, but do we really want him with Jeremiah? I mean, he's basically a pedophile. Sure, Hummel seems like a ice queen, but maybe he'll be better for Blaine then that Malkins worker." Wes frowned, disapprovingly.

"Hummel is a pureblood. Blaine's dad would never stand for it, and to be honest, it doesn't make me that happy either." David shrugged, and looked back to where Blaine had walked away.

"Well, it really doesn't matter. As long as Blaine's happy, and he doesn't get hurt." However, the frown was still in place on Wes' face.

"But who's to say that they won't both hurt him?"

XxXx

"Jones, Lopez, Zizes, Fabray, Wilson, Sterling, and HUMMEL!"

The Slytherin side of the pitch exploded in cheers, waving about emerald and silver banners wildly. As the most hated House of Hogwarts, filled with purebloods, and the ancestors of Death Eaters, they didn't have a good reputation. But their Quidditch team was their shining stars. They were basically the rockstars of the House, having handed every other Quidditch team their arses on a platter, for the past twenty years.

Maybe it was the terrifying fear instilled in each of them by Sue Sylvester. Maybe it was the ever burning desire to impress the often stereotypical pureblood families. But probably, it was because there was nothing like the thrill of winning.

"And, now, for the underdogs of the game, the Hufflepuff badgers! Hudson, Marshall, King, Pierce, Evans, Blackwood, and SELWYN!"

The Hufflepuff team shot into the air in a flash of yellow and black, and even though three fourths of the school was rooting for them, they didn't get quite as loud applause as the Slytherins did. Maybe it was because Sue Sylvester seemed to take up a whole small nation by herself, with just her voice and a muggle megaphone. Maybe it was because everyone knew Hufflepuff was doomed from the start. But no matter what, everyone knew in their minds how the match would end.

"And now the match begins! I'm Nick Duval, here to offer you commentary on the Quidditch! Not that we don't all know how it's going to end, it's always rigged for Slytherin, but they're a bunch of badasses, so who cares?"

"Duval! Comment on the plays, not the teams!" McGonagall, stern as ever, was glaring at Nick Duval, who was attempting to not show bias. But as a Slytherin himself, and the third musketeer of Flint and Jeff's terrible trio, it was nearly impossible.

"It's a battle of the brothers, as the Hudson-Hummel duo are fighting on opposite sides. But Hummel's the best Seeker since Potter, and probably better-not bias Professor!-so Slytherin's probably going to win again. Oh look, Fabray scored two goals! Wonder how that happened!"

"It happened because she threw the Quaffle into the hoop twice, while you were busy commenting on Kurt Hummel's seeking abilities." McGonagall said acidly, and Nick Duval's shrug could be seen from everywhere in the stadium.

"What can I say? Hummel's a badass! Oh, and two more goals, this time for Wilson! Hey, has Hummel seen the Snitch? Is this going to be another one of those five minute games? I mean, let's all bow down to our-I mean the-Seeker, but really, what fun are those games? Let's have a bit more drama! Oh, speaking of drama, it seems that Lopez and Zizes are having a little too much fun with those Bludgers, aiming them at Hudson and Evans. Aren't they friends with those guys? Anyways, while Hummel goes on his inevitable quest for the Snitch, which should end in like two minutes-"

"DUVAL!"

"Sorry Professor! Like I was saying, Evans has tried thrice now, to make a goal, but Jones keeps blocking him. I wonder if those two are-erm-'getting blocked' in other areas of their lives. I mean, they are dating-"

"DUVAL! YOU WERE ASSIGNED TO COMMENT ON QUIDDITCH, NOT THE SEX LIVES OF THE PLAYERS!"

"Wow, Minnie just said 'sex'!"

The whole pitch burst into laughter. As far as Slytherins went, Nick was a pretty easy going one, and watching him get cuffed over the ear by Sue Sylvester, who was sitting behind them, was pretty funny.

"DETENTION DUVAL! AND SUE, WE DO NOT PHYSICALLY HARM OUR STUDENTS!"

The general student population snorted. Yeah, obviously Sylvester had not gotten that memo in her many years of teaching. As they finally turned back to the match, they all saw a bored looking Kurt Hummel, standing in the middle of the pitch, holding a fluttering gold ball in his hand. No one knew how long he had been standing there, but without a doubt, he had ended the game.

"MERLIN'S BEARD, HUMMEL'S CAUGHT THE SNITCH! AFTER A WHOPPING EIGHT MINUTES! I DON'T KNOW WHETHER TO BE DISAPPOINTED THAT IT WASN'T SHORTER, OR HAPPY THAT IT WAS LONGER! MERLIN, THE THINGS THAT CAN BE SAID FOR NATURAL REFLEXES! IT LOOKS LIKE ONCE AGAIN, SLYTHERIN'S WON THE MATCH!"

The other side of the pitch burst into loud cheers, ecstatic that their team had once again one. Surely there would be a party that night. And of course, the benefits of living in the dungeons were endless. Sylvester never came down there, and the noise never reached the ears of patrolling teachers. It was virtually the best place to have parties, and when they were hosted by the Three Musketeers, they were pretty damn awesome.

"THIS IS GOING TO BE ONE HELL OF A YEAR!"