Warblers Winter Gift Exchange: Harry Potter Spectacular!
Title: Harry Potter Spectacular
Characters: Wes and David and Kurt and Pavarotti
Summary: WWGE - Wes and David create a two man Harry Potter Show.
Rating: G-PG
Warnings: Spoilers for Harry Potter, including book 7. Semi-canon Wes. First Glee fic.
“I’ve told you, we don’t need Blaine for this!” David protested.
Wes frowned. “But that just leaves the two of us, and Blaine’s the one who knows Harry Potter inside and out, forwards and backwards.”
The expression on David’s face said it all. It was by turns desperate, determined and depressed, and though Wes did an admirable job in resisting, a minute later, he caved. He always did.
“Fine. We’ll do it.” He sighed. “But I don’t understand why you’re so determined. They’re going to hate it. Didn’t you sister’s school ban it for being about witchcraft or something? And if this gets us kicked off Warblers Council, I will never, ever forgive you.”
David just looked at him again, and Wes responded, “For a week maybe.”
***
“Why do you need to borrow him again? I thought it was my duty to take care of him?” Kurt looked at them sceptically from his doorway. “You can’t honestly expect me to believe that you just want to see him.” His eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Is this some kind of test?”
Wes sighed. He figured he might deserve this, but he had a Council position to uphold. David did too, when it came down to it, but he was David. Wes was convinced he could get away with murder if he used the right look - which was exactly what he was doing.
Kurt was already in his room, carefully picking up the cage with Pavarotti and carrying it over to them. “Don’t hurt him, please. He’s rather a good little warbler, and I’d hate for anything to happen to him.”
Wes kept his face as passive as possible, trying to neither raise his eyebrows in surprise nor grin at the successful continuation of a tradition. David could work magic with his expressions. Wes just nodded. “Of course.”
***
“Wait, so I’m playing all the bad guys, and you’re playing all the good guys?”
“And Pavarotti is playing all the owls.”
“I’m playing all the bad guys?” Wes asked again, unable to keep his distaste hidden.
David shrugged and deadpanned, “You play the type well.”
Wes shot him a look of daggers, and retorted firmly, “I do not.”
David laughed. “You wouldn’t disagree if you could see the expression on your face right now.”
Wes’s expression dissolved neatly into his perfect face of civility. David’s laughter didn’t stop. “I think that might be even creepier!” he pronounced. “Like Umbridge!”
Wes blinked once, and then a smile broke through, only to be immediately stifled by a “don’t we need to rehearse?”
***
“Why do we both have Sirius Black masks?”
“We think he’s bad in the third book, but then it turns out he’s not. So you have him when we think he’s bad, but I have him when we know he’s not. “
Wes blinked twice. “Oh.”
***
The night of the “Dalton Academy Talent Spectacular!” arrived. Wes though it needed a new name, because even though he liked the traditions, the exclamation mark was a bit much. As was the “spectacular”. As was - well the entire thing was usually pretty corny, if he was being honest, but it was usually pretty fun, and just the Dalton boys being their usual selves, with a little less formality.
Usually, however, Wes was not backstage in a black graduation robe with a string of masks-on-sticks around his wrist, and a canary in a cage in his other hand, waiting with David to put on what must be the most ridiculous skit in Dalton history.
And then, all at once, it was their turn, and he and David entered the stage from opposite sides.
He walked onto the stage, and placed Pavarotti’s cage onto the chair. Then he held his Voldemort mask over his face, pointed his finger at David and pronounced “Avada Kedavra”. David crumpled to his knees. “Avada Kedavra.” David fell to the floor. “Avada Kedavra.” And then he fell to the floor, while David lept back up, only to leap back up himself.
The skit continued in a very similar brief and abbreviated way. Wes relaxed into it, switching masks frequently, and periodically turning his back to the audience while David had a particularly important good-guy-to-good-guy talk.
Exactly four minutes in there was a four step dance sequence for the Yule Ball, which received far more catcalls than Wes had expected. And at 8 minutes and 3 seconds in exactly, Wes pointed his finger at Pavarotti, now playing Hedwig, pronounced “Avada Kedavra” and the canary began to chirp, to audience approval.
But the show must go on, and it did, for exactly ten minutes - timed to absolute perfection - before David turned to the audience, mask-less, and pronounced, “And they all lived happily ever after, except for the ones played by Wes.” The audience roared with laughter, and David and Wes quickly departed the stage, taking the still singing Pavarotti with them.
Offstage, Wes placed Pavarotti down gently, ever mindful of the promise made to Kurt, before collapsing in a heap, and stating point blank, “You are never persuading my to do anything like that again.”
David was a pile on the floor beside him. “Half of your lines were ‘Avada Kedavra’, stop complaining.”
Wes arched his eyebrows. “You wrote the damn script, and gave me the bad guy lines.”
David grinned, but didn’t deny the accusations. “So, Lord of the Rings next year?”
“We’re gone next year, remember? Seniors.” The expression on David’s face didn’t change a whit, and Wes sighed and nodded.
Characters: Wes and David and Kurt and Pavarotti
Summary: WWGE - Wes and David create a two man Harry Potter Show.
Rating: G-PG
Warnings: Spoilers for Harry Potter, including book 7. Semi-canon Wes. First Glee fic.
“I’ve told you, we don’t need Blaine for this!” David protested.
Wes frowned. “But that just leaves the two of us, and Blaine’s the one who knows Harry Potter inside and out, forwards and backwards.”
The expression on David’s face said it all. It was by turns desperate, determined and depressed, and though Wes did an admirable job in resisting, a minute later, he caved. He always did.
“Fine. We’ll do it.” He sighed. “But I don’t understand why you’re so determined. They’re going to hate it. Didn’t you sister’s school ban it for being about witchcraft or something? And if this gets us kicked off Warblers Council, I will never, ever forgive you.”
David just looked at him again, and Wes responded, “For a week maybe.”
***
“Why do you need to borrow him again? I thought it was my duty to take care of him?” Kurt looked at them sceptically from his doorway. “You can’t honestly expect me to believe that you just want to see him.” His eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Is this some kind of test?”
Wes sighed. He figured he might deserve this, but he had a Council position to uphold. David did too, when it came down to it, but he was David. Wes was convinced he could get away with murder if he used the right look - which was exactly what he was doing.
Kurt was already in his room, carefully picking up the cage with Pavarotti and carrying it over to them. “Don’t hurt him, please. He’s rather a good little warbler, and I’d hate for anything to happen to him.”
Wes kept his face as passive as possible, trying to neither raise his eyebrows in surprise nor grin at the successful continuation of a tradition. David could work magic with his expressions. Wes just nodded. “Of course.”
***
“Wait, so I’m playing all the bad guys, and you’re playing all the good guys?”
“And Pavarotti is playing all the owls.”
“I’m playing all the bad guys?” Wes asked again, unable to keep his distaste hidden.
David shrugged and deadpanned, “You play the type well.”
Wes shot him a look of daggers, and retorted firmly, “I do not.”
David laughed. “You wouldn’t disagree if you could see the expression on your face right now.”
Wes’s expression dissolved neatly into his perfect face of civility. David’s laughter didn’t stop. “I think that might be even creepier!” he pronounced. “Like Umbridge!”
Wes blinked once, and then a smile broke through, only to be immediately stifled by a “don’t we need to rehearse?”
***
“Why do we both have Sirius Black masks?”
“We think he’s bad in the third book, but then it turns out he’s not. So you have him when we think he’s bad, but I have him when we know he’s not. “
Wes blinked twice. “Oh.”
***
The night of the “Dalton Academy Talent Spectacular!” arrived. Wes though it needed a new name, because even though he liked the traditions, the exclamation mark was a bit much. As was the “spectacular”. As was - well the entire thing was usually pretty corny, if he was being honest, but it was usually pretty fun, and just the Dalton boys being their usual selves, with a little less formality.
Usually, however, Wes was not backstage in a black graduation robe with a string of masks-on-sticks around his wrist, and a canary in a cage in his other hand, waiting with David to put on what must be the most ridiculous skit in Dalton history.
And then, all at once, it was their turn, and he and David entered the stage from opposite sides.
He walked onto the stage, and placed Pavarotti’s cage onto the chair. Then he held his Voldemort mask over his face, pointed his finger at David and pronounced “Avada Kedavra”. David crumpled to his knees. “Avada Kedavra.” David fell to the floor. “Avada Kedavra.” And then he fell to the floor, while David lept back up, only to leap back up himself.
The skit continued in a very similar brief and abbreviated way. Wes relaxed into it, switching masks frequently, and periodically turning his back to the audience while David had a particularly important good-guy-to-good-guy talk.
Exactly four minutes in there was a four step dance sequence for the Yule Ball, which received far more catcalls than Wes had expected. And at 8 minutes and 3 seconds in exactly, Wes pointed his finger at Pavarotti, now playing Hedwig, pronounced “Avada Kedavra” and the canary began to chirp, to audience approval.
But the show must go on, and it did, for exactly ten minutes - timed to absolute perfection - before David turned to the audience, mask-less, and pronounced, “And they all lived happily ever after, except for the ones played by Wes.” The audience roared with laughter, and David and Wes quickly departed the stage, taking the still singing Pavarotti with them.
Offstage, Wes placed Pavarotti down gently, ever mindful of the promise made to Kurt, before collapsing in a heap, and stating point blank, “You are never persuading my to do anything like that again.”
David was a pile on the floor beside him. “Half of your lines were ‘Avada Kedavra’, stop complaining.”
Wes arched his eyebrows. “You wrote the damn script, and gave me the bad guy lines.”
David grinned, but didn’t deny the accusations. “So, Lord of the Rings next year?”
“We’re gone next year, remember? Seniors.” The expression on David’s face didn’t change a whit, and Wes sighed and nodded.