Challenge #91 - Brittany.
Title: Loving Angels Instead
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 (Harry's inner voice swears a lot, apparently)
Characters/Pairing: Harry/Draco AU; Glee crossover
Summary: It's the most beautiful thing he has ever heard in his entire life. And he has seen Lady Gaga live, so that is saying something.
Word Count: 1039
Author's Notes: Written for Challenge #91 for the prompt "I'm more talented than all of you. I see that clearly now." I felt like it had to be done, ok? IDEK SOMETIMES.
Registered purchases?: Both
Harry hates the new kid from the minute he walks into the door. Hipster type. Plaid shirt, skinny tie. Beanie. Who wears a fucking beanie these days?
Mr Shuester calls them to attention and introduces him as an exchange student from England. Of course. Fucking European hipster. His name is Draco, which is just ridiculous. I mean, come on.
"Are you from Russia?", asks Brittany, ever the icebreaker. "You look like you've never seen the sun before. It's that big yellow ball in the sky, you know?"
New kid cracks a smile. A pretty smile. A rockstar smile. It's true too, he's pale as a ghost. But it suits him, Harry thinks. He looks like royalty. Hipster fucking rockstar royalty.
Because Rachel insists on the new kid doing a solo ("To asses his potential for singing a duet with me!"), he goes and sits down at the piano. At this point Harry has pretty much had it. If he's gonna be good, he's gonna get all the solos and Harry will be reduced to doo-woping and swaying in the back of group numbers again. Like always. He's been in this Glee Club longer than most of these people and he has more talent in his little finger than each and every single one of them. But he has never gotten a solo. At first it was Finn. Then Jesse. Then Sam. All the male solos went to the hunky heartthrobs of McKinley High. The hunky, straight heartthrobs.
The new kid starts playing. He is very good, his long, elegant, royal fingers moving swiftly over the keys. Draco looks like he's been doing this since he was three. Probably has.
Then he starts singing. It's a song Harry doesn't know, but it doesn't matter. It's the most beautiful thing he has ever heard in his entire life. And he has seen Lady Gaga live, so that is saying something.
He sounds like an angel. Of course he does. European fucking hipster angel. Why is he even surprised?
After practice, Rachel glues herself to Draco and doesn't let go for the rest of the day. Good, Harry thinks. Get him out of my way so I don't have to look at his face anymore. His pretty, pretty angel face.
As Harry is getting his algebra brook from the locker and putting it in his bag (vintage Gucci monogram bag, thank you very much), Draco comes up around the corner, sans Rachel. He looks a little lost, all on his own and suddenly Harry remembers what that is like. Being the new kid, not knowing anybody. He'd been in foster care for half his life and got moved around so much that sometimes, when he was younger, he would wake up at night and not know where he was.
That has all changed now, of course. Burt had been great. He had adopted a boy who would rather throw a tea party than play with toy cars, but he hadn't flinched or batted an eye. Harry has it good, really. Not all kids whose parents got killed by a homicidal maniac when they were one year old are this lucky.
"Hey", Draco says. His speaking voice sounds much more shy and timid than his singing voice.
"Hey."
They stand there for a bit, just looking at each other. Draco shyly looking at the floor more often than not. He really is very pretty, isn't he?
"Did Rachel show you around?"
Draco produces the most epic eye-roll that Harry has ever seen on the mention of Rachel's name and suddenly a whole new wave of sympathy washes over Harry. If he hates Rachel, he can't be that bad.
"She's a handful, isn't she? Wicked talented, but she knows it, too. Of course, a diva always knows how good she is. I am brilliant, by the way."
This gets a smile from angel face and whatever negative feelings there were before are slowly evaporating.
"Not nearly as brilliant as you, though."
Draco looks up.
"You really mean that?" he asks, in that fucking pretty accent of his and Harry is just basically melting all over the place at this point.
"Yeah. I used to think I was more talented than all of you. But I'm not. You are. I see that clearly now."
Draco is full-on grinning now and it's a sight to behold. Harry is not religious or anything, but there is definitely something divine about this kid. Fucking divine angel face hipster.
At one point Finn comes up and asks Harry if he needs a ride home. But he just waves it off, staring some more at that angel face. Draco has a snake pendant hanging around his neck and Harry is this close to letting his mind fire off another hipster tirade, but then he remembers that he as a pendant, too. He rarely wears it, because it is so precious to him that he rather keeps it in a jewelry box in his room. It's a golden lion. It's the only thing he's got left of his parents.
"I like your bag."
"Huh?"
Harry is momentarily disturbed in his reverie by Draco's hot-as-fuck accent and him pointing at the bag.
"Oh yeah? Thanks, it's..."
"... vintage Gucci. I know. Have you seen the new fall collection? They're gorgeous."
Now Harry is grinning, too. And he's glad there isn't a mirror somewhere near, because he'd surely recoil from seeing himself laugh, because he so rarely does it.
But here he is, standing in the hallways of McKinley High, smiling at - and being smiled at by - this new kid, with his fucking hipster clothes and his fucking hipster name and his hot fucking hipster accent. And only this morning he had been ready to toss him aside as just one more person trying to steal solos from him.
Draco would get all the solos from now on. He is a star. Normally, Harry would burst with jealousy. He doesn't actually hate Rachel - she is honestly quite endearing - but her soaring talent makes him seethe sometimes.
But this kid, this fucking angel face rockstar hipster, would get all the solos and rightfully so. And Harry doesn't mind one bit.
1039 words: 30 = 34,6 35 + 10 (bonus). 45 points for Hufflepuff
Sonja/Hufflepuff
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 (Harry's inner voice swears a lot, apparently)
Characters/Pairing: Harry/Draco AU; Glee crossover
Summary: It's the most beautiful thing he has ever heard in his entire life. And he has seen Lady Gaga live, so that is saying something.
Word Count: 1039
Author's Notes: Written for Challenge #91 for the prompt "I'm more talented than all of you. I see that clearly now." I felt like it had to be done, ok? IDEK SOMETIMES.
Registered purchases?: Both
Harry hates the new kid from the minute he walks into the door. Hipster type. Plaid shirt, skinny tie. Beanie. Who wears a fucking beanie these days?
Mr Shuester calls them to attention and introduces him as an exchange student from England. Of course. Fucking European hipster. His name is Draco, which is just ridiculous. I mean, come on.
"Are you from Russia?", asks Brittany, ever the icebreaker. "You look like you've never seen the sun before. It's that big yellow ball in the sky, you know?"
New kid cracks a smile. A pretty smile. A rockstar smile. It's true too, he's pale as a ghost. But it suits him, Harry thinks. He looks like royalty. Hipster fucking rockstar royalty.
Because Rachel insists on the new kid doing a solo ("To asses his potential for singing a duet with me!"), he goes and sits down at the piano. At this point Harry has pretty much had it. If he's gonna be good, he's gonna get all the solos and Harry will be reduced to doo-woping and swaying in the back of group numbers again. Like always. He's been in this Glee Club longer than most of these people and he has more talent in his little finger than each and every single one of them. But he has never gotten a solo. At first it was Finn. Then Jesse. Then Sam. All the male solos went to the hunky heartthrobs of McKinley High. The hunky, straight heartthrobs.
The new kid starts playing. He is very good, his long, elegant, royal fingers moving swiftly over the keys. Draco looks like he's been doing this since he was three. Probably has.
Then he starts singing. It's a song Harry doesn't know, but it doesn't matter. It's the most beautiful thing he has ever heard in his entire life. And he has seen Lady Gaga live, so that is saying something.
He sounds like an angel. Of course he does. European fucking hipster angel. Why is he even surprised?
After practice, Rachel glues herself to Draco and doesn't let go for the rest of the day. Good, Harry thinks. Get him out of my way so I don't have to look at his face anymore. His pretty, pretty angel face.
As Harry is getting his algebra brook from the locker and putting it in his bag (vintage Gucci monogram bag, thank you very much), Draco comes up around the corner, sans Rachel. He looks a little lost, all on his own and suddenly Harry remembers what that is like. Being the new kid, not knowing anybody. He'd been in foster care for half his life and got moved around so much that sometimes, when he was younger, he would wake up at night and not know where he was.
That has all changed now, of course. Burt had been great. He had adopted a boy who would rather throw a tea party than play with toy cars, but he hadn't flinched or batted an eye. Harry has it good, really. Not all kids whose parents got killed by a homicidal maniac when they were one year old are this lucky.
"Hey", Draco says. His speaking voice sounds much more shy and timid than his singing voice.
"Hey."
They stand there for a bit, just looking at each other. Draco shyly looking at the floor more often than not. He really is very pretty, isn't he?
"Did Rachel show you around?"
Draco produces the most epic eye-roll that Harry has ever seen on the mention of Rachel's name and suddenly a whole new wave of sympathy washes over Harry. If he hates Rachel, he can't be that bad.
"She's a handful, isn't she? Wicked talented, but she knows it, too. Of course, a diva always knows how good she is. I am brilliant, by the way."
This gets a smile from angel face and whatever negative feelings there were before are slowly evaporating.
"Not nearly as brilliant as you, though."
Draco looks up.
"You really mean that?" he asks, in that fucking pretty accent of his and Harry is just basically melting all over the place at this point.
"Yeah. I used to think I was more talented than all of you. But I'm not. You are. I see that clearly now."
Draco is full-on grinning now and it's a sight to behold. Harry is not religious or anything, but there is definitely something divine about this kid. Fucking divine angel face hipster.
At one point Finn comes up and asks Harry if he needs a ride home. But he just waves it off, staring some more at that angel face. Draco has a snake pendant hanging around his neck and Harry is this close to letting his mind fire off another hipster tirade, but then he remembers that he as a pendant, too. He rarely wears it, because it is so precious to him that he rather keeps it in a jewelry box in his room. It's a golden lion. It's the only thing he's got left of his parents.
"I like your bag."
"Huh?"
Harry is momentarily disturbed in his reverie by Draco's hot-as-fuck accent and him pointing at the bag.
"Oh yeah? Thanks, it's..."
"... vintage Gucci. I know. Have you seen the new fall collection? They're gorgeous."
Now Harry is grinning, too. And he's glad there isn't a mirror somewhere near, because he'd surely recoil from seeing himself laugh, because he so rarely does it.
But here he is, standing in the hallways of McKinley High, smiling at - and being smiled at by - this new kid, with his fucking hipster clothes and his fucking hipster name and his hot fucking hipster accent. And only this morning he had been ready to toss him aside as just one more person trying to steal solos from him.
Draco would get all the solos from now on. He is a star. Normally, Harry would burst with jealousy. He doesn't actually hate Rachel - she is honestly quite endearing - but her soaring talent makes him seethe sometimes.
But this kid, this fucking angel face rockstar hipster, would get all the solos and rightfully so. And Harry doesn't mind one bit.
1039 words: 30 = 34,6 35 + 10 (bonus). 45 points for Hufflepuff
Sonja/Hufflepuff