GleeWarts Year 1; Chapter 7
Title: GleeWarts
Pairing: Santana Lopez/Brittany S. Pierce
Rating: PG for the beginning and eventually M
Summary: So, this is my story of what would happen if the Glee characters had been born into the Hogwarts setting. There will be a cameo from a Harry Potter character throughout, whether or not there will be any other HP characters is still tbd.
Previous Chapter
Santana was still walking with her head high and a slight bounce in her step from being the first First Year in Slytherin to be able to correctly perform the wand lighting and wand extinguishing spells that morning in Defense Against the Dark Arts-sure,there were a couple of nerdy Ravenclaws that had manage to perform it first, but she would omit that detail when writing home…as well as the detail of her making a C- in Potions the previous week-after lunch as she made her way to the Transfiguration classroom with Quinn.
“Oh, give it a rest,” Quinn instructed.
“Give what a rest?” Santana asked with a smile.
“That,” Quinn motioned to her facial expression. “It is creeping me out.”
Santana chuckled, giving Quinn a playful nudge, causing her to roll her eyes and barely contain the small smile pulling at the corner of her own lips.
“I would not get too excited if I were you,” Quinn noted. “We both know I can bury you in Transfiguration.”
“Whatever,” Santana replied, even her smirk shining playfully. She knew Quinn had a point though; while she seemed to have been gifted with an aptitude for Potions and DADA, Quinn’s talents shone brightest in Transfigurations and Charms. But she wasn’t going to let that knock the wind out of her sails just yet, because for the first time in her life, she had just successfully performed a spell on her own, and the feeling of warmth and power and certainty at having done that was not one she was willing to let go of just yet.
They entered the Transfiguration room to find a group of Hufflepuff First Years gathered together in a boisterous group.
“What’s their problem now? Did Hudson get his wand stuck up his nose again?” Santana wondered as they took their seats at a table in the middle of the room.
Quinn giggled, the light mood still resting over them.
“Actually-“ a sharp voice began to interject from behind them.
Santana groaned loudly as she turned around to face Rachel, “You just don’t quit, do you? You are like the Energizer Bunny from my worst nightmares.”
“You know, my father is quite the avid rabbit hunter,” Quinn added, her tone thoughtful.
Rachel whimpered.
Santana and Quinn exchanged high-fives-discreetly, of course, since it tended to be frowned upon for ladies to give high-fives at all.
“Well, f-fine,” Rachel’s voice shook nervously. “If you’re going to be cruel, I won’t tell you what they are so excited about.”
“Of course you are going to tell us,” Quinn gave an achingly sweet smile. “Because you don’t have anybody else to tell, and you are clearly bursting at the seams with gossip.”
Santana almost added that Rachel nearly rivaled Mercedes, the Queen of Gossip amongst First Years, in that aspect, but to do so would be to admit her familiarity with a member of Gryffindor…besides Brittany, that is; she always forgot Brittany was in Gryffindor.
Rachel appeared hurt at the insinuation that she did not have any friends to talk to, but that didn’t stop her from spreading the news, “Finn and Noah made their house Quidditch teams. It is rather exciting, really. They are the first First Years allowed on the team in over a century-I looked it up. But, I mean, I had no doubt that they would; Finn is obviously very athletic.”
“Wait, what?” Quinn laughed loudly. “You have got to be kidding me. Finn ‘can’t-tell-the-back-of-his-broom-from-the-front’ Hudson and Noah ‘twig-arms’ Puckerman made their house team? Is Hufflepuff intentionally trying to come in last in the Cup race?”
She turned to Santana for a backup retort, but Santana was eying the two boys in question.
“Finn as keeper and Noah as seeker?” Santana requested of Rachel who nodded quickly.
Quinn gave her a pointed look.
Santana shrugged, “I can’t say I am all that surprised. Hufflepuff has gone 0-3 for the past eight years, so they are no doubt going to be trying something different this time around.”
“By putting twiddle-dumb and twiddle-dee on their team?” Quinn’s eyebrows rose.
“With Finn’s unnaturally long limbs, he would seem like a good choice for keeper. Same for Noah’s small stature and the seeker position. Hufflepuff is probably willing to take a hit the next couple years as they rebuild their team, starting them young in the hopes of training them up.”
Rachel nodded as if this had been obvious to her all along.
“It would be a brilliant plan if it did not rely on the miniscule talents and flying skills of those two brainless dorks,” Santana concluded.
Quinn smiled in satisfaction.
“I do not know where you are getting your assessment from, Santana, but-“ Rachel began to argue.
Santana quickly cut her off, “I get my assessment from having been an avid Quidditch follower since I was born. I went to my first match when I was two months old. I would annually attend the training camp of the Falmouth Falcons with my father who is oft regarded as their assistant coach. And also, I get my assessment from my two eyes that make it clear that Hudson and his little tagalong don’t stand a chance against true Quidditch players. Now perhaps it is you who should do a little reassessing. A member of Slytherin pining after a member of Hufflepuff?” Santana raised an eyebrow. “That would not be very smart. What would the other members of the house think?”
Quinn crossed her arms over her chest, “I do not think they would take very kindly to it. And everyone knows the rash way members of Slytherin behave when they are angry.”
Santana nodded in agreement.
“I-I don’t know what you are talking about. I-I would never…” Rachel gulped before scurrying off to her seat at the front of the class.
“She makes it too easy sometimes,” Quinn shook her head.
Santana nodded again.
“So is that what you really think of them making the team?” Quinn asked curiously.
Santana nodded, eying the boys once more before sighing and turning back to the table before her. “Yeah, Hufflepuff is definitely willing to take a couple years off if it means getting to build a team from the ground up and make a true run for the Cup for the first time in forever. Building the team around Finn and Noah is where they are messing up, though, and big time. Yeah, Finn is lanky, but that kid in the wheelchair has more control over his body than Finn does. Will he make a few saves? Physics says yes since he’s so bloody tall and takes up so much space, but it’ll be nothing more than luck.”
“And Noah?” Quinn pressed.
“Noah may be small now, but he won’t be that way for long. There is a Mr. Puckerman that used to play for the Falcon’s and who now owns a pub that my father helped open not far from his London office. I would bet anything that that is Noah’s father. He was a notorious ladies’ man back when he was on the team. Plus, Puckerman’s not a very popular name, is it? And they look eerily alike, as well, except for the fact that Mr. Puckerman is a rather large, well-built man. Noah has a lot of growing to do, and once he starts, Hufflepuff will have spent all that time training him as a seeker for naught.”
“And you?” Quinn’s voice was careful.
Santana frowned, “What about me?”
“Oh, come on,” Quinn lowered her voice, “you forget that I am the one that came up with the idea of ordering your subscription to Quidditch Weekly under your driver’s name to keep your mum from finding out about it. You cannot tell me you are not the slightest bit jealous at the thought of Finn and Noah making their team when you are forbidden from even trying out for yours.”
Santana lowered her hands beneath the table as they tightened into fists. “I am a lady, and ladies do not participate in such barbaric activities as Quidditch,” she recited.
“I am pretty sure ladies are not supposed to be smart asses, either, but yet you continue to insist on being one,” Quinn countered, trying to return to the playfulness from earlier. It was rare that the pair of them were able to indulge in such moments together.
“I learned from the best,” Santana gave her a pointed look, the beginnings of a smile on her lips.
“No, you are the smart ass. I believe the term most people refer to me by is ‘bitch’, or how do you say it? Puta?”
Santana laughed loudly, unsure which was better: Quinn’s sad attempt at Spanish or her cursing in general because it was extremely rare that she used such brash language. Several heads turned at the outburst, but she didn’t care.
Let them look, she found herself thinking. Let them see how much fun we are having and realize that they aren’t a part of it.
But mostly, she was thinking about how grateful she was to have someone like Quinn beside her, someone who knew what her life was truly like and who knew just when she needed to forget about that life, and was willing to drop a value or two of her own in order to give her that moment.
“Alright class,” Professor Holliday greeted as she walked in, waving her hand absentmindedly to make the door shut behind her. “After our last few classes ended in some sort of a fire which I will not blame on anyone in particular,” her eyes fell on Finn who’s already ruddy cheeks turned bright red, and the room erupted into a set of giggles. “I have decided that we need to take a step back and first learn a little theory.”
The class groaned.
“I know, I know,” Professor Holliday raised her hands to settle them down. “I, myself, am more of a hands-on type teacher and prefer action to words, but apparently, this is something you guys need to learn in order to become successful at Transfiguration. So, if you would all take out your compositions and start taking notes, we may have time at the end of the class to retry the matchstick into a needle spell one more time.”
There was a scurrying around the class as the students scrambled to get out paper and a quill.
“Now, there are five very important things that directly influence any transfiguration spell, and those things are: bodyweight which we will substitute as ‘a’,” she explained as she wrote the letter on the board. “Then viciousness, which we will substitute as ‘v’, wand power which we will substitute as ‘w’, concentration which we will substitute as ‘c’, and a fifth unknown variable which we will substitute with a ‘Z’.”
Santana glanced at Quinn as the other girl wrote down Professor Holiday’s words quickly yet neatly, and thought back to how she had always referred to Quinn as the closest thing to a friend she had. But with Brittany’s assessment of friendship the other night still on her mind, Santana realized that she had been wrong all along. Quinn wasn’t the closest thing she’d had to a friend, Quinn was her friend, and had been all this time.
Santana started to smile as she realized that it was not even a month ago she had arrived at Hogwarts, thinking she was friendless, and now, here she was, with not only one, but two friends she wouldn’t trade for anything.
“You are creeping me out again,” Quinn informed under her breath.
Santana chuckled and turned to her own notebook as she began to copy the formula off the board.
At the end of class, Quinn was proven correct when she became the first First Year to turn her matchstick into a proper needle. Santana grumbled as Quinn bragged about it the rest of the afternoon as she silently acknowledged to herself that she wouldn’t have their friendship any other way.
Santana laughed to herself at the whooping and hollering that was going on not far from where she lay in the grass next to her broomstick of choice. She had learned a nifty little spell to combat grass stains the other day in Charms class-Professor Pillsbury seemed particularly knowledgeable in spells of cleanliness-so she was now free to lounge about the grounds as she pleased.
“Could you be any more vulgar?” Quinn wondered from where she paced along the grass beside her.
“Unclench, Q,” Santana teased.
“I am surprised you are so relaxed to be honest. Shouldn’t you be grumbling up a storm about Hufflepuff’s excitement over their match tomorrow?”
“Why? It has been three weeks since Finn and Noah made their house team, and their flying has yet to improve. They are going to get creamed, and by Ravenclaw of all teams. I find their excitement hilarious in light of that, and I cannot wait to bask in their tears of defeat. Now, I think the more important question is, what has gotten your knickers all in a twist? I mean, even more so than usual, that is. Not still sulking over the A- you got on your Transfiguration homework this morning, are you?”
“Professor Holiday has a personal vendetta against me,” Quinn insisted.
“No, she does not. Professor Holiday thinks the sun shines out of your ass just like every other adult you have ever encountered.”
“Are you sure?” her forehead wrinkled in worry. “I really thought that essay was A+ material.”
“Positive. She probably just didn’t have enough sugar in her oatmeal this morning or something.”
“Yes…yes, you are probably right,” she sighed in relief.
“Of course I’m right, I am always right. Don’t you worry your pretty little head, Quinny, your reputation as the golden child is safe.”
Quinn dug her shoe gently into Santana’s side, “What did I tell you about calling me that?”
Santana laughed, squirming away out of her reach. “Careful, you wouldn’t want your cutesy nickname to spread amongst all of our peers, now would you?”
“It does, and I will tell everyone how your own grandma used to call you Garbage Face when you were younger,” she threatened.
“Hey, leave mi abuela out of this. She was just starting to learn English, and I don’t have any primas, just primos, so we were always playing outside, and I was always filthy. She meant it as a term of endearment.”
“Not my problem,” Quinn shrugged.
“Fine,” Santana waved her off. “Whatever, your secret is safe with me, Quinny.”
“As is yours, Garbage Face.”
A shrill whistle rang out, and the girls got into place beside their brooms. Coach Tenaka decided to do something different for that class in light of the upcoming Quidditch opener and have a race. First student to complete twenty laps around the pitch would earn twenty points for their house. Slytherin was still celebrating Santana’s narrow defeat of Noah and clear victory over the other flyers as they made their way into the Great Hall for dinner. Quinn had even managed to come in third, a lap and a half behind the leaders, which earned her a few congratulatory claps on the back as well, causing her to smile broadly.
As they entered the large dining room, Santana’s eyes immediately landed on Brittany who was already waiting for them at the Slytherin table, red and gold tie shining in defiance amongst the sea of silver and green. The space all around her was empty, but no member of Slytherin stood up to challenge her attendance at their table. That seemed to be how the situation of the Gryffindor’s regular appearance at Slytherin hangouts had been decided on being handled: the Slytherins would ignore Brittany’s presence in lieu of starting a fight over it with Santana whose reputation and family history had spread rapidly throughout the school-thanks, in large part, to Kurt and Mercedes’ big mouths. Some Slytherins had even begun to come to terms with the fact that Brittany would be a regular presence amongst them during their downtime and would engage her in conversation, but only if Santana was there as well.
“What’s all the commotion about?” Brittany asked as she began to add food to her plate as Santana and Quinn took their normal spots at the table on her left and across from her with the other Slytherin First Years filling in the space around them.
“I won a few house points,” Santana shrugged as she filled her own plate.
“A few?” Lauren Zises nearly choked on the food she was already shoveling down her throat. “Lopez here just won us twenty points and wiped the floor with Hufflepuff’s golden boys in the process.”
Brittany raised a curious eyebrow at Santana.
“We had a race today in our flying lesson. I won, which meant I also beat Finn Hudson and Noah Puckerman, both of whom are on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team,” she explained.
“It was brilliant,” Rachel added.
Santana mimed stabbing herself in the eye with her fork, making Brittany giggle and Quinn snort into the goblet of cider she was drinking.
“I mean, if a First Year who did not even try out for our house team could out fly two of Hufflepuff’s players, just think of what our actual team is going to do with them.”
There was a hearty “Here, here!” all along the table as people clinked their goblets together in toast.
Santana, though, just glanced between Brittany and Quinn and joined in their laughter. It was actually Brittany that had been the first to notice Rachel’s obsession with the overgrown Hufflepuff First Year, having seen her intentionally bump into Finn in the hall and drop her books so that he would help her pick them up, an occurrence which she shared one day as Quinn sat reading and Santana lie avoiding homework under what was becoming their favorite tree on campus. However, ever since Santana had called her out on it back during that Transfiguration lesson, Rachel had been using every opportunity that presented itself to prove that her true loyalty lay with Slytherin.
“Speaking of Quidditch,” Santana segued when their laughter had died down. “Are you going to sit with us for the match tomorrow, Britt?”
“Actually, I wasn’t even planning on going,” Brittany replied as she pushed her food around her plate.
“Not planning on going?” Santana questioned in confusion. “What do you mean? It is going to be amazing seeing Finn snapped like a twig by the Ravenclaw beaters.”
Rachel squeaked.
Okay, maybe Santana had done that on purpose.
“I’m just getting tired of hearing about Quidditch lately. I don’t really get the hype.”
Santana blanched, “Don’t get the hype? But it’s Quidditch which is only the greatest game ever…wait…Britt? Have you ever seen a Quidditch match?”
“Arizona is more of a football state. Go Cards!” Brittany raised her hand, lining up her four fingers and stretching out her thumb beneath them in a crude sort of beak. “That’s my hand signal for them. It hasn’t caught on yet, but give it some time.”
“Britt, no, you don’t understand, Quidditch is the game of the gods. You will love it.”
“Even if I do go, it’s not like I would be able to understand anything that was going on. It took me years to learn the rules of football, and I still don’t get why touchdowns are worth more points than field goals when they have an entire zone to make a touchdown in, but only ten feet or so for a field goal.”
“Well, you are in luck,” Quinn replied, jutting her thumb towards Santana. “You would be hard pressed to find someone who knows more about the sport than that one there.”
“You’ll help me?” Brittany looked at Santana hopefully.
“Of course,” she nodded. “So, you’ll sit with us?”
“Of course,” Brittany smiled. “You’d better be right about this, Lopez.”
“I am always right, Pierce,” Santana smiled back
++++++++
Brittany sat next to Santana, bright blue eyes as wide as the sky as Ravenclaw scored another easy goal. The minute the whistle blew and the Quaffle thrown at the beginning of the match, she had been transfixed, eyes never leaving the pitch even for a second. At first, Santana had explained the basics, and then, Brittany had begun to spout of questions at such a rapid-fire pace that Santana had had to struggle to keep up with. Now, though, will all of her questions answered, she just sat, completely immobile. In the short time she had known her, Santana had never seen Brittany so focused, so enraptured, definitely not for such a long time as this.
Santana leaned towards her, “It’s okay to cheer, you know.”
As if those were the very words she had been waiting for, Brittany was on her feet in an instant, screaming at the top of her lungs with the rest of the crowd that was more excited about it being the first match of the year than for the actual pairing of the match. She stayed like that for the rest of the game, cheering when Ravenclaw scored, booing when Hufflepuff made a good play, and cursing in a way that made not only Quinn, but Santana blush as well, when Coach Tenaka made a bad call from his position as referee. She was so into the match, that when the snitch was caught and the final whistle blew, she started in on a tirade that even the toughest sailor would’ve been proud of, thinking that Tenaka had made another poor call.
“You worthless piece of shit! Why don’t you go fu-“
Santana cut her off with a hand over her mouth, laughing “The match is over, Britt. Ravenclaw won. And better yet, Finn did not save a single goal, and Noah fell off of his broom, twice.”
“What? They caught the switch? When? I didn’t see,” she pouted in disappointment, her voice hoarse from yelling.
“It’s a snitch, and it’s really small and really fast, so it can be hard to see. We should get you some binoculars for next time.”
Brittany nodded in agreement.
Santana turned to make sure Quinn was coming. The tawny haired girl was still sitting in her seat, shaking her head.
“I think some of your cursing may have permanently scarred her,” Santana whispered to Brittany.
“She would never survive a football game,” Brittany replied.
“Are you okay, Q?” Santana asked, poking her on the shoulder carefully, so as not to startle her.
“I don’t think some of that is even possible physically,” Quinn shook her head. “I mean, that thing you said about the squirrel…”
“The secret to cursing is to not dwell on the meaning too much,” Brittany replied as she and Santana guided her into a standing position.
“How about we get you inside and get you some warm cider in the Great Hall,” Santana coaxed gently.
“That sounds good,” Quinn nodded in agreement.
Santana met Brittany’s eyes across from her, and she had to look away to keep from chortling loudly in laughter.
Santana’s smirk couldn’t get any wider as she watched the Hufflepuff first years shuffle into their chairs in Transfiguration the following week, their heads hanging.
“What’s wrong, guys?” she asked. “Raven got your snitch?”
The Slytherin First Years burst into a round of loud laughter at the Hufflepuffs' expense.
“It was only their first match,” Quinn pointed out to her.
“So?”
“So, they could still improve in the years to come. Isn’t that what you said Hufflepuff is betting on? I wouldn’t go counting my chickens before they hatch, if I were you.”
“Oh, I have no doubt they will improve, but there is only so much improving worms like that can do. What I am starting to wonder, is if the captain of the Hufflepuff team thought to inform Finn and Noah of their plan; because the way they were acting last week, those morons seemed to think they genuinely stood a chance of winning.”
“That would be a bit cruel, would it not?” Quinn questioned, seeming to like the idea. “To not tell them that they knew going into it that they would lose?”
“Definitely, but at the same time really smart. If they would have told them, do you think Finn and Noah would have tried their hardest to win? And if they are not trying their hardest, then how are they going to improve? And their improving is what Hufflepuff is gambling on.”
“Do you think they don’t plan on ever telling them?” a calculating smile was forming on her face.
“Probably not,” Santana was sporting a grin to match.
“That could come in handy one day.”
“You know what, Q? I think you may be right.”
“I am always right.”
“Not with Quidditch. Quidditch is mine,” Santana reminded.
“Look around,” Quinn motioned. “We are in my comfort zone right now.”
Santana rolled her eyes.
The door to the Transfiguration classroom opened, and Professor Holiday glided in.
“Good afternoon, class. Wands out, please, we have a lot to do today, and very little time,” Professor Holiday informed, offering a smile as the students pulled out their wands from their various hiding spots. Santana’s was inside the knee high socks she wore, not very original, but it seemed to be the safest place as she had born witness to a handful of students being lit on fire or thrown backwards by malfunctioning wands they had been keeping in pants pockets. One Ravenclaw First Year still couldn’t sit down, and it had been over four weeks since his wand had exploded in his back pocket. Santana was particularly sad she had missed that event.
“So, this week we are going to start to learn the switching spell as well as the untransfiguration spell. Now, I know what you are thinking: it has taken this long for us to master even the simplest of transfiguration spells, why would we want to undo all that work?” Professor Holiday raised her eyebrows.
Santana nodded in reply. Extra work was not her forte.
“But, let’s say, you were trying to perform a…oh, let’s going with switching spell since that is our other lesson this week. Let’s say, I was trying to switch this here bunch of bananas,” she pointed to the fruit on her desk, “with the apples that Nancy keeps on her desk in the History of Magic classroom because it is high in fiber and old people need fiber to keep them regular. I just think apples taste better,” she winked as the class laughed. “But when I perform the spell, I end up messing up the wand movement, as most of you no doubted will a lot over the next few years. So, instead of a lovely apple to replace my banana, I am left with…” Professor Holiday flourished her wand about and a loud pop resounded throughout the room and then a shriek could be heard from the front row. Santana stood up out of her chair to be able to see better, and she immediately saw what had caused the shriek: where Professor Holiday’s nose once rested, now lay a large, red apple. The initial shock wore off and the class erupted into even louder laughter than before.
“Now, while this may seem like a good thing at first, given the fact that I will now forever be surrounded with the smell of apples, you can see where the problem may lie,” Professor Holiday said, her voice coming out stuffy.
Another shriek could be heard, this one coming form down the hall.
“Ah, Nancy has found my nose!” Professor Holiday giggled.
“She is going to give the old bat a heart attack,” Quinn whispered to Santana.
“So, unless you know the exact incantation needed to switch an apple back with not just a nose, but your nose, then you would be in a mighty jam, right? Wrong, because I am going to teach you the untransfiguration spell which will undo whatever transfiguration mishap you may have made. And as this class goes on, I strongly advise you to use this spell for any and every mishap because you never know what lasting effect a transfiguration gone wrong may have. So, as for the incantation: Reparifarge!” Professor Holiday recited, and with a wave of her wand, the apple was gone and her nose was back in its rightful place. “So, first switching spells, and then repairing your damage with the untransfiguration spells. You each have two objects on your table to switch. Begin.”
Santana and Quinn turned to the single apple and banana on their table and set to work practicing switching the two. Santana had managed to turn the banana a deep red and the apple a bright yellow when a knock on the door caused Professor Holiday to pause where she had been walking between the rows of students
“Come in,” she instructed.
The wooden door was pushed open, and in walked a small girl with a hesitance in her steps.
Santana nudged Quinn with her elbow to get her to look up from her textbook and watch as Brittany approached Professor Holiday where she now stood at the front of the class.
“What is she doing here?” Quinn wondered.
“Shouldn’t you be in class, Miss Pierce?” Professor Holiday asked, apparently wondering the same thing.
Brittany nodded, still approaching her slowly, “I needed to talk to you.”
Santana managed to catch Brittany’s gaze as blue eyes darted around the room nervously. She offered a smile, and Brittany seemed to relax a little.
“About what?”
Brittany whispered something as she finally came to a stop in front of the professor.
Professor Holiday’s eyes widened in what appeared to be a mixture of surprise and excitement before the teacher ushered Brittany out of the room to finish their conversation in private. “Continue working on your spells!” was the only instruction she gave her students before leaving them by themselves.
“Well that made total and absolute sense,” Quinn noted sarcastically before turning back to the text book.
Santana nodded in agreement. She turned back to the fruit and performed the untransfiguration spell, returning the fruit to their original colors before looking back at the door through which the professor and student had exited.
“Do not waste time trying to understand it,” Quinn instructed. “You would be hard pressed to find two people that made any less sense than those two. I can see why the sorting hat put Brittany into Professor Holiday’s house.”
Santana just nodded again, not bothering to point out that the sorting hat did not place people according to whomever was head of the house at the time because that could change in an instant, but according to the traits that the founder of each house prized most in his or her students because those would never change.
Quinn waved her wand and the apple and the banana switched places on the table. She smiled in satisfaction.
“Suck it, Fabray,” Santana grumbled.
The door to the room opened, and Professor Holiday walked back in, alone, and took her place amongst the students as if the interruption had never even happened.
Next Chapter
Pairing: Santana Lopez/Brittany S. Pierce
Rating: PG for the beginning and eventually M
Summary: So, this is my story of what would happen if the Glee characters had been born into the Hogwarts setting. There will be a cameo from a Harry Potter character throughout, whether or not there will be any other HP characters is still tbd.
Previous Chapter
Santana was still walking with her head high and a slight bounce in her step from being the first First Year in Slytherin to be able to correctly perform the wand lighting and wand extinguishing spells that morning in Defense Against the Dark Arts-sure,there were a couple of nerdy Ravenclaws that had manage to perform it first, but she would omit that detail when writing home…as well as the detail of her making a C- in Potions the previous week-after lunch as she made her way to the Transfiguration classroom with Quinn.
“Oh, give it a rest,” Quinn instructed.
“Give what a rest?” Santana asked with a smile.
“That,” Quinn motioned to her facial expression. “It is creeping me out.”
Santana chuckled, giving Quinn a playful nudge, causing her to roll her eyes and barely contain the small smile pulling at the corner of her own lips.
“I would not get too excited if I were you,” Quinn noted. “We both know I can bury you in Transfiguration.”
“Whatever,” Santana replied, even her smirk shining playfully. She knew Quinn had a point though; while she seemed to have been gifted with an aptitude for Potions and DADA, Quinn’s talents shone brightest in Transfigurations and Charms. But she wasn’t going to let that knock the wind out of her sails just yet, because for the first time in her life, she had just successfully performed a spell on her own, and the feeling of warmth and power and certainty at having done that was not one she was willing to let go of just yet.
They entered the Transfiguration room to find a group of Hufflepuff First Years gathered together in a boisterous group.
“What’s their problem now? Did Hudson get his wand stuck up his nose again?” Santana wondered as they took their seats at a table in the middle of the room.
Quinn giggled, the light mood still resting over them.
“Actually-“ a sharp voice began to interject from behind them.
Santana groaned loudly as she turned around to face Rachel, “You just don’t quit, do you? You are like the Energizer Bunny from my worst nightmares.”
“You know, my father is quite the avid rabbit hunter,” Quinn added, her tone thoughtful.
Rachel whimpered.
Santana and Quinn exchanged high-fives-discreetly, of course, since it tended to be frowned upon for ladies to give high-fives at all.
“Well, f-fine,” Rachel’s voice shook nervously. “If you’re going to be cruel, I won’t tell you what they are so excited about.”
“Of course you are going to tell us,” Quinn gave an achingly sweet smile. “Because you don’t have anybody else to tell, and you are clearly bursting at the seams with gossip.”
Santana almost added that Rachel nearly rivaled Mercedes, the Queen of Gossip amongst First Years, in that aspect, but to do so would be to admit her familiarity with a member of Gryffindor…besides Brittany, that is; she always forgot Brittany was in Gryffindor.
Rachel appeared hurt at the insinuation that she did not have any friends to talk to, but that didn’t stop her from spreading the news, “Finn and Noah made their house Quidditch teams. It is rather exciting, really. They are the first First Years allowed on the team in over a century-I looked it up. But, I mean, I had no doubt that they would; Finn is obviously very athletic.”
“Wait, what?” Quinn laughed loudly. “You have got to be kidding me. Finn ‘can’t-tell-the-back-of-his-broom-from-the-front’ Hudson and Noah ‘twig-arms’ Puckerman made their house team? Is Hufflepuff intentionally trying to come in last in the Cup race?”
She turned to Santana for a backup retort, but Santana was eying the two boys in question.
“Finn as keeper and Noah as seeker?” Santana requested of Rachel who nodded quickly.
Quinn gave her a pointed look.
Santana shrugged, “I can’t say I am all that surprised. Hufflepuff has gone 0-3 for the past eight years, so they are no doubt going to be trying something different this time around.”
“By putting twiddle-dumb and twiddle-dee on their team?” Quinn’s eyebrows rose.
“With Finn’s unnaturally long limbs, he would seem like a good choice for keeper. Same for Noah’s small stature and the seeker position. Hufflepuff is probably willing to take a hit the next couple years as they rebuild their team, starting them young in the hopes of training them up.”
Rachel nodded as if this had been obvious to her all along.
“It would be a brilliant plan if it did not rely on the miniscule talents and flying skills of those two brainless dorks,” Santana concluded.
Quinn smiled in satisfaction.
“I do not know where you are getting your assessment from, Santana, but-“ Rachel began to argue.
Santana quickly cut her off, “I get my assessment from having been an avid Quidditch follower since I was born. I went to my first match when I was two months old. I would annually attend the training camp of the Falmouth Falcons with my father who is oft regarded as their assistant coach. And also, I get my assessment from my two eyes that make it clear that Hudson and his little tagalong don’t stand a chance against true Quidditch players. Now perhaps it is you who should do a little reassessing. A member of Slytherin pining after a member of Hufflepuff?” Santana raised an eyebrow. “That would not be very smart. What would the other members of the house think?”
Quinn crossed her arms over her chest, “I do not think they would take very kindly to it. And everyone knows the rash way members of Slytherin behave when they are angry.”
Santana nodded in agreement.
“I-I don’t know what you are talking about. I-I would never…” Rachel gulped before scurrying off to her seat at the front of the class.
“She makes it too easy sometimes,” Quinn shook her head.
Santana nodded again.
“So is that what you really think of them making the team?” Quinn asked curiously.
Santana nodded, eying the boys once more before sighing and turning back to the table before her. “Yeah, Hufflepuff is definitely willing to take a couple years off if it means getting to build a team from the ground up and make a true run for the Cup for the first time in forever. Building the team around Finn and Noah is where they are messing up, though, and big time. Yeah, Finn is lanky, but that kid in the wheelchair has more control over his body than Finn does. Will he make a few saves? Physics says yes since he’s so bloody tall and takes up so much space, but it’ll be nothing more than luck.”
“And Noah?” Quinn pressed.
“Noah may be small now, but he won’t be that way for long. There is a Mr. Puckerman that used to play for the Falcon’s and who now owns a pub that my father helped open not far from his London office. I would bet anything that that is Noah’s father. He was a notorious ladies’ man back when he was on the team. Plus, Puckerman’s not a very popular name, is it? And they look eerily alike, as well, except for the fact that Mr. Puckerman is a rather large, well-built man. Noah has a lot of growing to do, and once he starts, Hufflepuff will have spent all that time training him as a seeker for naught.”
“And you?” Quinn’s voice was careful.
Santana frowned, “What about me?”
“Oh, come on,” Quinn lowered her voice, “you forget that I am the one that came up with the idea of ordering your subscription to Quidditch Weekly under your driver’s name to keep your mum from finding out about it. You cannot tell me you are not the slightest bit jealous at the thought of Finn and Noah making their team when you are forbidden from even trying out for yours.”
Santana lowered her hands beneath the table as they tightened into fists. “I am a lady, and ladies do not participate in such barbaric activities as Quidditch,” she recited.
“I am pretty sure ladies are not supposed to be smart asses, either, but yet you continue to insist on being one,” Quinn countered, trying to return to the playfulness from earlier. It was rare that the pair of them were able to indulge in such moments together.
“I learned from the best,” Santana gave her a pointed look, the beginnings of a smile on her lips.
“No, you are the smart ass. I believe the term most people refer to me by is ‘bitch’, or how do you say it? Puta?”
Santana laughed loudly, unsure which was better: Quinn’s sad attempt at Spanish or her cursing in general because it was extremely rare that she used such brash language. Several heads turned at the outburst, but she didn’t care.
Let them look, she found herself thinking. Let them see how much fun we are having and realize that they aren’t a part of it.
But mostly, she was thinking about how grateful she was to have someone like Quinn beside her, someone who knew what her life was truly like and who knew just when she needed to forget about that life, and was willing to drop a value or two of her own in order to give her that moment.
“Alright class,” Professor Holliday greeted as she walked in, waving her hand absentmindedly to make the door shut behind her. “After our last few classes ended in some sort of a fire which I will not blame on anyone in particular,” her eyes fell on Finn who’s already ruddy cheeks turned bright red, and the room erupted into a set of giggles. “I have decided that we need to take a step back and first learn a little theory.”
The class groaned.
“I know, I know,” Professor Holliday raised her hands to settle them down. “I, myself, am more of a hands-on type teacher and prefer action to words, but apparently, this is something you guys need to learn in order to become successful at Transfiguration. So, if you would all take out your compositions and start taking notes, we may have time at the end of the class to retry the matchstick into a needle spell one more time.”
There was a scurrying around the class as the students scrambled to get out paper and a quill.
“Now, there are five very important things that directly influence any transfiguration spell, and those things are: bodyweight which we will substitute as ‘a’,” she explained as she wrote the letter on the board. “Then viciousness, which we will substitute as ‘v’, wand power which we will substitute as ‘w’, concentration which we will substitute as ‘c’, and a fifth unknown variable which we will substitute with a ‘Z’.”
Santana glanced at Quinn as the other girl wrote down Professor Holiday’s words quickly yet neatly, and thought back to how she had always referred to Quinn as the closest thing to a friend she had. But with Brittany’s assessment of friendship the other night still on her mind, Santana realized that she had been wrong all along. Quinn wasn’t the closest thing she’d had to a friend, Quinn was her friend, and had been all this time.
Santana started to smile as she realized that it was not even a month ago she had arrived at Hogwarts, thinking she was friendless, and now, here she was, with not only one, but two friends she wouldn’t trade for anything.
“You are creeping me out again,” Quinn informed under her breath.
Santana chuckled and turned to her own notebook as she began to copy the formula off the board.
At the end of class, Quinn was proven correct when she became the first First Year to turn her matchstick into a proper needle. Santana grumbled as Quinn bragged about it the rest of the afternoon as she silently acknowledged to herself that she wouldn’t have their friendship any other way.
Santana laughed to herself at the whooping and hollering that was going on not far from where she lay in the grass next to her broomstick of choice. She had learned a nifty little spell to combat grass stains the other day in Charms class-Professor Pillsbury seemed particularly knowledgeable in spells of cleanliness-so she was now free to lounge about the grounds as she pleased.
“Could you be any more vulgar?” Quinn wondered from where she paced along the grass beside her.
“Unclench, Q,” Santana teased.
“I am surprised you are so relaxed to be honest. Shouldn’t you be grumbling up a storm about Hufflepuff’s excitement over their match tomorrow?”
“Why? It has been three weeks since Finn and Noah made their house team, and their flying has yet to improve. They are going to get creamed, and by Ravenclaw of all teams. I find their excitement hilarious in light of that, and I cannot wait to bask in their tears of defeat. Now, I think the more important question is, what has gotten your knickers all in a twist? I mean, even more so than usual, that is. Not still sulking over the A- you got on your Transfiguration homework this morning, are you?”
“Professor Holiday has a personal vendetta against me,” Quinn insisted.
“No, she does not. Professor Holiday thinks the sun shines out of your ass just like every other adult you have ever encountered.”
“Are you sure?” her forehead wrinkled in worry. “I really thought that essay was A+ material.”
“Positive. She probably just didn’t have enough sugar in her oatmeal this morning or something.”
“Yes…yes, you are probably right,” she sighed in relief.
“Of course I’m right, I am always right. Don’t you worry your pretty little head, Quinny, your reputation as the golden child is safe.”
Quinn dug her shoe gently into Santana’s side, “What did I tell you about calling me that?”
Santana laughed, squirming away out of her reach. “Careful, you wouldn’t want your cutesy nickname to spread amongst all of our peers, now would you?”
“It does, and I will tell everyone how your own grandma used to call you Garbage Face when you were younger,” she threatened.
“Hey, leave mi abuela out of this. She was just starting to learn English, and I don’t have any primas, just primos, so we were always playing outside, and I was always filthy. She meant it as a term of endearment.”
“Not my problem,” Quinn shrugged.
“Fine,” Santana waved her off. “Whatever, your secret is safe with me, Quinny.”
“As is yours, Garbage Face.”
A shrill whistle rang out, and the girls got into place beside their brooms. Coach Tenaka decided to do something different for that class in light of the upcoming Quidditch opener and have a race. First student to complete twenty laps around the pitch would earn twenty points for their house. Slytherin was still celebrating Santana’s narrow defeat of Noah and clear victory over the other flyers as they made their way into the Great Hall for dinner. Quinn had even managed to come in third, a lap and a half behind the leaders, which earned her a few congratulatory claps on the back as well, causing her to smile broadly.
As they entered the large dining room, Santana’s eyes immediately landed on Brittany who was already waiting for them at the Slytherin table, red and gold tie shining in defiance amongst the sea of silver and green. The space all around her was empty, but no member of Slytherin stood up to challenge her attendance at their table. That seemed to be how the situation of the Gryffindor’s regular appearance at Slytherin hangouts had been decided on being handled: the Slytherins would ignore Brittany’s presence in lieu of starting a fight over it with Santana whose reputation and family history had spread rapidly throughout the school-thanks, in large part, to Kurt and Mercedes’ big mouths. Some Slytherins had even begun to come to terms with the fact that Brittany would be a regular presence amongst them during their downtime and would engage her in conversation, but only if Santana was there as well.
“What’s all the commotion about?” Brittany asked as she began to add food to her plate as Santana and Quinn took their normal spots at the table on her left and across from her with the other Slytherin First Years filling in the space around them.
“I won a few house points,” Santana shrugged as she filled her own plate.
“A few?” Lauren Zises nearly choked on the food she was already shoveling down her throat. “Lopez here just won us twenty points and wiped the floor with Hufflepuff’s golden boys in the process.”
Brittany raised a curious eyebrow at Santana.
“We had a race today in our flying lesson. I won, which meant I also beat Finn Hudson and Noah Puckerman, both of whom are on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team,” she explained.
“It was brilliant,” Rachel added.
Santana mimed stabbing herself in the eye with her fork, making Brittany giggle and Quinn snort into the goblet of cider she was drinking.
“I mean, if a First Year who did not even try out for our house team could out fly two of Hufflepuff’s players, just think of what our actual team is going to do with them.”
There was a hearty “Here, here!” all along the table as people clinked their goblets together in toast.
Santana, though, just glanced between Brittany and Quinn and joined in their laughter. It was actually Brittany that had been the first to notice Rachel’s obsession with the overgrown Hufflepuff First Year, having seen her intentionally bump into Finn in the hall and drop her books so that he would help her pick them up, an occurrence which she shared one day as Quinn sat reading and Santana lie avoiding homework under what was becoming their favorite tree on campus. However, ever since Santana had called her out on it back during that Transfiguration lesson, Rachel had been using every opportunity that presented itself to prove that her true loyalty lay with Slytherin.
“Speaking of Quidditch,” Santana segued when their laughter had died down. “Are you going to sit with us for the match tomorrow, Britt?”
“Actually, I wasn’t even planning on going,” Brittany replied as she pushed her food around her plate.
“Not planning on going?” Santana questioned in confusion. “What do you mean? It is going to be amazing seeing Finn snapped like a twig by the Ravenclaw beaters.”
Rachel squeaked.
Okay, maybe Santana had done that on purpose.
“I’m just getting tired of hearing about Quidditch lately. I don’t really get the hype.”
Santana blanched, “Don’t get the hype? But it’s Quidditch which is only the greatest game ever…wait…Britt? Have you ever seen a Quidditch match?”
“Arizona is more of a football state. Go Cards!” Brittany raised her hand, lining up her four fingers and stretching out her thumb beneath them in a crude sort of beak. “That’s my hand signal for them. It hasn’t caught on yet, but give it some time.”
“Britt, no, you don’t understand, Quidditch is the game of the gods. You will love it.”
“Even if I do go, it’s not like I would be able to understand anything that was going on. It took me years to learn the rules of football, and I still don’t get why touchdowns are worth more points than field goals when they have an entire zone to make a touchdown in, but only ten feet or so for a field goal.”
“Well, you are in luck,” Quinn replied, jutting her thumb towards Santana. “You would be hard pressed to find someone who knows more about the sport than that one there.”
“You’ll help me?” Brittany looked at Santana hopefully.
“Of course,” she nodded. “So, you’ll sit with us?”
“Of course,” Brittany smiled. “You’d better be right about this, Lopez.”
“I am always right, Pierce,” Santana smiled back
++++++++
Brittany sat next to Santana, bright blue eyes as wide as the sky as Ravenclaw scored another easy goal. The minute the whistle blew and the Quaffle thrown at the beginning of the match, she had been transfixed, eyes never leaving the pitch even for a second. At first, Santana had explained the basics, and then, Brittany had begun to spout of questions at such a rapid-fire pace that Santana had had to struggle to keep up with. Now, though, will all of her questions answered, she just sat, completely immobile. In the short time she had known her, Santana had never seen Brittany so focused, so enraptured, definitely not for such a long time as this.
Santana leaned towards her, “It’s okay to cheer, you know.”
As if those were the very words she had been waiting for, Brittany was on her feet in an instant, screaming at the top of her lungs with the rest of the crowd that was more excited about it being the first match of the year than for the actual pairing of the match. She stayed like that for the rest of the game, cheering when Ravenclaw scored, booing when Hufflepuff made a good play, and cursing in a way that made not only Quinn, but Santana blush as well, when Coach Tenaka made a bad call from his position as referee. She was so into the match, that when the snitch was caught and the final whistle blew, she started in on a tirade that even the toughest sailor would’ve been proud of, thinking that Tenaka had made another poor call.
“You worthless piece of shit! Why don’t you go fu-“
Santana cut her off with a hand over her mouth, laughing “The match is over, Britt. Ravenclaw won. And better yet, Finn did not save a single goal, and Noah fell off of his broom, twice.”
“What? They caught the switch? When? I didn’t see,” she pouted in disappointment, her voice hoarse from yelling.
“It’s a snitch, and it’s really small and really fast, so it can be hard to see. We should get you some binoculars for next time.”
Brittany nodded in agreement.
Santana turned to make sure Quinn was coming. The tawny haired girl was still sitting in her seat, shaking her head.
“I think some of your cursing may have permanently scarred her,” Santana whispered to Brittany.
“She would never survive a football game,” Brittany replied.
“Are you okay, Q?” Santana asked, poking her on the shoulder carefully, so as not to startle her.
“I don’t think some of that is even possible physically,” Quinn shook her head. “I mean, that thing you said about the squirrel…”
“The secret to cursing is to not dwell on the meaning too much,” Brittany replied as she and Santana guided her into a standing position.
“How about we get you inside and get you some warm cider in the Great Hall,” Santana coaxed gently.
“That sounds good,” Quinn nodded in agreement.
Santana met Brittany’s eyes across from her, and she had to look away to keep from chortling loudly in laughter.
Santana’s smirk couldn’t get any wider as she watched the Hufflepuff first years shuffle into their chairs in Transfiguration the following week, their heads hanging.
“What’s wrong, guys?” she asked. “Raven got your snitch?”
The Slytherin First Years burst into a round of loud laughter at the Hufflepuffs' expense.
“It was only their first match,” Quinn pointed out to her.
“So?”
“So, they could still improve in the years to come. Isn’t that what you said Hufflepuff is betting on? I wouldn’t go counting my chickens before they hatch, if I were you.”
“Oh, I have no doubt they will improve, but there is only so much improving worms like that can do. What I am starting to wonder, is if the captain of the Hufflepuff team thought to inform Finn and Noah of their plan; because the way they were acting last week, those morons seemed to think they genuinely stood a chance of winning.”
“That would be a bit cruel, would it not?” Quinn questioned, seeming to like the idea. “To not tell them that they knew going into it that they would lose?”
“Definitely, but at the same time really smart. If they would have told them, do you think Finn and Noah would have tried their hardest to win? And if they are not trying their hardest, then how are they going to improve? And their improving is what Hufflepuff is gambling on.”
“Do you think they don’t plan on ever telling them?” a calculating smile was forming on her face.
“Probably not,” Santana was sporting a grin to match.
“That could come in handy one day.”
“You know what, Q? I think you may be right.”
“I am always right.”
“Not with Quidditch. Quidditch is mine,” Santana reminded.
“Look around,” Quinn motioned. “We are in my comfort zone right now.”
Santana rolled her eyes.
The door to the Transfiguration classroom opened, and Professor Holiday glided in.
“Good afternoon, class. Wands out, please, we have a lot to do today, and very little time,” Professor Holiday informed, offering a smile as the students pulled out their wands from their various hiding spots. Santana’s was inside the knee high socks she wore, not very original, but it seemed to be the safest place as she had born witness to a handful of students being lit on fire or thrown backwards by malfunctioning wands they had been keeping in pants pockets. One Ravenclaw First Year still couldn’t sit down, and it had been over four weeks since his wand had exploded in his back pocket. Santana was particularly sad she had missed that event.
“So, this week we are going to start to learn the switching spell as well as the untransfiguration spell. Now, I know what you are thinking: it has taken this long for us to master even the simplest of transfiguration spells, why would we want to undo all that work?” Professor Holiday raised her eyebrows.
Santana nodded in reply. Extra work was not her forte.
“But, let’s say, you were trying to perform a…oh, let’s going with switching spell since that is our other lesson this week. Let’s say, I was trying to switch this here bunch of bananas,” she pointed to the fruit on her desk, “with the apples that Nancy keeps on her desk in the History of Magic classroom because it is high in fiber and old people need fiber to keep them regular. I just think apples taste better,” she winked as the class laughed. “But when I perform the spell, I end up messing up the wand movement, as most of you no doubted will a lot over the next few years. So, instead of a lovely apple to replace my banana, I am left with…” Professor Holiday flourished her wand about and a loud pop resounded throughout the room and then a shriek could be heard from the front row. Santana stood up out of her chair to be able to see better, and she immediately saw what had caused the shriek: where Professor Holiday’s nose once rested, now lay a large, red apple. The initial shock wore off and the class erupted into even louder laughter than before.
“Now, while this may seem like a good thing at first, given the fact that I will now forever be surrounded with the smell of apples, you can see where the problem may lie,” Professor Holiday said, her voice coming out stuffy.
Another shriek could be heard, this one coming form down the hall.
“Ah, Nancy has found my nose!” Professor Holiday giggled.
“She is going to give the old bat a heart attack,” Quinn whispered to Santana.
“So, unless you know the exact incantation needed to switch an apple back with not just a nose, but your nose, then you would be in a mighty jam, right? Wrong, because I am going to teach you the untransfiguration spell which will undo whatever transfiguration mishap you may have made. And as this class goes on, I strongly advise you to use this spell for any and every mishap because you never know what lasting effect a transfiguration gone wrong may have. So, as for the incantation: Reparifarge!” Professor Holiday recited, and with a wave of her wand, the apple was gone and her nose was back in its rightful place. “So, first switching spells, and then repairing your damage with the untransfiguration spells. You each have two objects on your table to switch. Begin.”
Santana and Quinn turned to the single apple and banana on their table and set to work practicing switching the two. Santana had managed to turn the banana a deep red and the apple a bright yellow when a knock on the door caused Professor Holiday to pause where she had been walking between the rows of students
“Come in,” she instructed.
The wooden door was pushed open, and in walked a small girl with a hesitance in her steps.
Santana nudged Quinn with her elbow to get her to look up from her textbook and watch as Brittany approached Professor Holiday where she now stood at the front of the class.
“What is she doing here?” Quinn wondered.
“Shouldn’t you be in class, Miss Pierce?” Professor Holiday asked, apparently wondering the same thing.
Brittany nodded, still approaching her slowly, “I needed to talk to you.”
Santana managed to catch Brittany’s gaze as blue eyes darted around the room nervously. She offered a smile, and Brittany seemed to relax a little.
“About what?”
Brittany whispered something as she finally came to a stop in front of the professor.
Professor Holiday’s eyes widened in what appeared to be a mixture of surprise and excitement before the teacher ushered Brittany out of the room to finish their conversation in private. “Continue working on your spells!” was the only instruction she gave her students before leaving them by themselves.
“Well that made total and absolute sense,” Quinn noted sarcastically before turning back to the text book.
Santana nodded in agreement. She turned back to the fruit and performed the untransfiguration spell, returning the fruit to their original colors before looking back at the door through which the professor and student had exited.
“Do not waste time trying to understand it,” Quinn instructed. “You would be hard pressed to find two people that made any less sense than those two. I can see why the sorting hat put Brittany into Professor Holiday’s house.”
Santana just nodded again, not bothering to point out that the sorting hat did not place people according to whomever was head of the house at the time because that could change in an instant, but according to the traits that the founder of each house prized most in his or her students because those would never change.
Quinn waved her wand and the apple and the banana switched places on the table. She smiled in satisfaction.
“Suck it, Fabray,” Santana grumbled.
The door to the room opened, and Professor Holiday walked back in, alone, and took her place amongst the students as if the interruption had never even happened.
Next Chapter