Boy Wizards | Harry/Louis (Zayn/Niall) | NC-17 | Harry is the Ravenclaw prodigy and Louis is the Gryffindor hotshot who can’t seem to stop staring at him.
“You’re smiling again,” Niall said exasperatedly. “Keep that up and you’ll hurt your mouth at the rate you’re going.”
Harry’s mouth did hurt, but only somewhat. And from an entirely different reason other than smiling.
But Niall was right; Harry’s disposition since waking up had been as bright and sunny as the weather outside – a decidedly sharp contrast from what it had been like on his trip to Hogsmeade yesterday. It wasn’t his intention to be so unbearably excited and giddy; he knew that if he were in his best mate’s position, he would have found the whole thing insufferable. But with memories of that trip still fresh in his mind, he couldn’t really be bothered to care.
He’d kissed Louis. Or rather, Louis kissed him. Just as well, because he might have never worked up the nerve to do it on his own otherwise, but still.
And it wasn’t just a normal kiss, a kiss that was light and sweet enough to whet his appetite. No, it was a proper snog, and rather than appeasing him, it only served to intensify the hunger he didn’t even know he had. They’d spent over half an hour in that musky cellar, with his back pressed flat against the wall and Louis’ hands grabbing firmly at his sides. Their purpose for being there – to get drunk, he remembered much later – had gone completely forgotten in favor of exploring each other’s mouths and necks with as much enthusiasm as their privacy permitted.
It hadn’t escaped their minds that anyone – Madam Rosmerta, perhaps – could climb down the stairs and find the two of them inappropriately tangled up in each other, limbs bound and lips puffy and swollen from dedication. But it made the heady experience of a first kiss that much more intense. He’d even wrapped his legs around the older boy’s waist at a certain point, if not for stability then for the simple pleasure of feeling Louis that much closer to him. And when they emerged from the cellar several brilliant eternities later, none of the patrons upstairs so much as even glanced at them on their way out.
They didn’t talk much afterward, if only because Harry’s mind had been reeling with unanswered questions and he figured Louis felt pretty much the same. At any rate, the older boy’s cheeks were just as flushed and warm as his, and it was with a small prickle of pride in his heart that he thought, I did that.
When they finally entered the castle, Louis had the decency to walk him all the way up to Ravenclaw Tower, completely disregarding the strange looks he received from the other students that knew of him yet weren’t quite used to seeing him there. By that point, they’d untangled their fingers (they didn’t even realize they were holding hands the whole way up) and Louis leaned forward much like he usually did and pressed a light kiss to his cheek before bidding him a breathless goodbye.
Once Louis disappeared, though, he instantly ran off to the library to seek some sort of relief from the thoughts that bombarded his mind. But even his favorite Charms books weren’t enough to distract him from himself, eventually forcing him to drag his feet back to the dorm for an early night in bed. Niall hadn’t even returned when he finally fell asleep.
“Really, it’s unsettling,” Niall said with a concerned quirk of his brow as they took their seats at the Ravenclaw table for breakfast. “And if you think that you’re making me curious, you’re wrong, because it’s not working.”
Harry shrugged and helped himself to some toast and sausage, going out of his way to avoid the plate of kippers sitting in front of him.
“Really,” Niall stressed, barely acknowledging the corn flakes that he normally attacked in the mornings. “It’s not working.”
“Perfect,” Harry said lightly. “You’re convincing yourself, not me.”
“You’re still smiling like sunlight is bursting out of your arse and it’s bloody annoying!”
“Then don’t look! Make yourself useful and eat some breakfast or something. Here, have a kipper.”
Niall batted his hand away impatiently. “Okay, fine. I’m lying. Now tell me everything about Hogsmeade.”
Eggs were particularly delicious whenever Niall looked as desperate and pained as he did in that moment. Harry made a mental snapshot and relished the food that kept him from answering.
“For fuck’s sake,” Niall grumbled. “It’s not like I’m forcing you to do something you’re not going to do anyway. I know you’re dying to tell me.”
That much was true. Things like this never happened to Harry, obviously, and though he wanted to play it cool and keep a level head, the incessant internal squealing indicated otherwise. In fact, he’d woken up with the strongest urge to tell someone, anyone, if only to convince himself that kissing Louis had actually happened.
Harry composed himself dramatically, ignoring Niall’s second – third – huff of impatience.
“We kissed,” he said matter-of-factly, disregarding the onslaught of color against his cheeks at the mere mention of yesterday’s indiscretions. “So you were wrong. He doesn’t like birds.”
Niall blinked at him. Not surprised, but not unsurprised either.
Eventually, the blond boy shrugged with an expression that resembled mild disappointment.
“Guess I was, then,” he said, finally relaxed enough to begin his breakfast. “Was it any good?”
For whatever reason, that was the question to send Harry choking on his juice.
“T-The kiss?” he sputtered.
Niall rolled his eyes. “Obviously. Then again, if your smile is anything to go by, it must’ve been. It was, wasn’t it?”
Throat still throbbing, he only nodded.
“Figured,” he said with a light cant of his head. “So are you two like, together now?”
“I don’t know,” Harry supplied, and it was with a small surge of frustration that he realized he didn’t actually know the answer to that question. Though they certainly had the time to discuss the subject, they weren’t equipped with the proper mental faculties to properly do so. “We didn’t have time to discuss it.”
Niall shifted uncomfortably in his seat, seemingly intent on keeping an inordinate amount of his attention on his breakfast plate.
“Yeah, well, those are things to talk about.”
Harry would’ve asked where Niall’s sudden shiftiness came from, but he knew that he wouldn’t find out until Niall was ready. Though undeniably outspoken and rather laid back compared to most people at Hogwarts, Niall was the kind to internalize his problems – which made absolutely no sense given how determined he was to get Harry to talk about his problems all the time. It was just something that Harry learned to accept; Niall would come to terms with whatever he was struggling with in due time. At any rate, it was probably something Quidditch or prefect-related that Harry couldn’t relate to.
So his thoughts turned back to Louis – naturally. It wasn’t until Niall said it out loud that the possibility of being with Louis like that even felt like a reality. Granted, he’d never been in a relationship and yeah, he’d probably be shit at it. Yet Louis would undoubtedly be aces at being his boyfriend, if that was what he wanted at all to begin with.
And it was with a silent sort of prayer that Harry hoped he did.
But when he instinctively turned around toward the Gryffindor table and found a pair of bright blue eyes looking at him amidst the sea of other students, he found he didn’t really care that much. This was enough for now.
November arrived like a gust of wind, cold and blustering and in a whirl of gold and crimson leaves.
And as if by some sort of divine grace, schoolwork was easier to manage. It wasn’t like professors assigned less homework than usual, and it wasn’t like the coursework had suddenly become any simpler to understand. But something about it finally being November meant that it was somehow possible to maintain both academics and a social life.
Perhaps it was just that they’d finally reached the point in the year when things weren’t as overwhelming as they usually were at the start of term. But regardless, the sudden freeing up of time meant that there was more of it to spend with Louis.
But Harry didn’t know what it meant to lead a social life.
In the first few weeks following the Hogsmeade trip, he didn’t quite know how to balance everything. Other than Niall, he’d never had someone who actively wanted to see him, wanted to tear him away from his schoolwork. At first, it was difficult trying to work in the library when Louis was sitting across from him, glancing over impatiently every so often and obviously not doing work. And when Harry finally asked him why he bothered coming to the library if he wasn’t going to do work to begin with, Louis responded with a simple,
“To be with you.”
So it became easier for Harry to pull himself away from his obligations; his Transfiguration paper could wait a night or two.
Instead, he found himself pushed up against cold walls in hidden corridors or onto wooden tables in empty classrooms. He never thought he’d be the type to willingly let himself get thrown around, but there was a certain degree of trust with Louis that made it all okay. In fact, he came to look forward to those times when Louis would be walking beside him one moment and then attacking his lips furiously the next. It was too easy to let the older boy take control, to let him slip his hands into his curls as if to say ‘you’re mine.’
Which was really confusing, because Harry didn’t actually know if he was Louis’.
Though Harry had been perfectly content with not discussing the nature of their relationship – it wasn’t like he wanted to ruin his first real opportunity at one, anyway – his satisfaction grew strained with each passing day. And it wasn’t like Louis had grown cold or anything – entirely the opposite, really.
At first, Harry thought he was seeing things. But by the third or fourth time he noticed it, he could tell that Louis felt the same way, felt the same insatiable hunger that Harry felt whenever they were together. It was something about the way his blue eyes turned a dark shade of sapphire whenever they were pressed into a corner somewhere, making sure that they remained hidden in the shadows of the castle. Though they hadn’t talked about or even shared this, the way that Louis looked at him made him incredibly thankful that there was even a this to not talk about.
It was just that hiding everything made Harry a little restless. It wasn’t like he had anyone else to tell other than Niall, and even then, Louis seemed okay with letting the Irish boy in on their secret. But Louis hadn’t even told Liam yet, and whenever Harry asked why, he’d be met with the same, “Eventually.”
He wasn’t ashamed though; he made sure to tell Harry that at every possible opportunity. It was just that he didn’t quite know what to do about all of it, especially when it happened so quickly. And Harry couldn’t exactly disagree; it had happened quickly. They hadn’t even shared words throughout their first five years together when Harry first realized he had a crush on him. And so to suddenly have a…routine such as theirs – it was all rather sudden. So he decided not to press.
Still, it was the small, wistful part of Harry that wished to have some sort of identification or label for what they had. He knew that the concept of putting an official name to it was superficial and meaningless; it wasn’t like they were seeing anyone else outside of what they had (unsurprisingly, Harry found it easier to stomach Eleanor’s presence in Potions class after kissing Louis). But it was the idea of it that appealed to Harry, that was all.
And so it was on a Friday afternoon, just after Potions, that Harry made his way out of the dungeons to meet Niall out by the lake. They hadn’t hung out in a while, and though Niall seemed to grow increasingly restless and distracted whenever they were together, he continued to sneak off like he had a secret – a secret that Harry just wished he’d share already. As he pulled his large, furry hat over his head, he hoped that today would be the day.
However, he’d barely made it out into the courtyard when he felt a tight, warm, familiar grip on his arm that pulled and tugged him off to the side of the castle and just around a corner where no one would see him unless they were standing right there; even then, any sudden appearances would be close enough that one of them would notice in time.
“Louis,” Harry moaned lowly as the other boy slammed a pair of lips against his. “We’re outside.”
“So?” he mumbled through the licking of lips and clacking of teeth.
So – they’d never done this here before. It had always been in the safety and seclusion of deserted passages in the castle; never outside and against it. And though it sent bursts of excitement through his nerves, Harry had to push Louis away to collect his thoughts – which was difficult, really, when the older boy was staring at him with glassy eyes and swollen lips.
“Someone could see,” Harry whispered.
“Yeah, but – ”
“And we’re keeping this a secret, remember?” Yet the way he asked it, it was like he was asking to push a boundary, wondering what Louis’ reaction would be.
But that seemed enough to bring Louis back to his senses, causing him to lean back with a startled expression, like someone woke him up from sleep. However, he kept his hands on Harry’s hips; their need for constant contact with each other was often too great to ignore.
“It’s not fair,” Louis pouted. “You’re asking me to control myself, which is fucking impossible when you’re walking around like that.”
“Like what?” Harry asked, only slightly affronted.
“All bundled up and huggable,” Louis explained exasperatedly. “And that bloody hat. It makes you irresistible, Hazza.”
Harry’s brows perked up. “Irresistible, eh?”
Usually, Louis would reply otherwise until he was red in the face and Harry had to kiss his agreement out of him. But something about his frustration with the situation made him all too ready to reply.
“Yes,” he breathed, lips hovering closely to Harry’s cheek. “All the goddamn time.”
Harry’s heart fluttered; no one called him irresistible before.
“You’re sweet,” he heard himself saying and fuck – that was a little less guarded than he would have liked.
But Louis only pressed his smile against his jaw, sending chills up and down Harry’s body. And he almost unfurled completely when he felt the other boy’s tongue flick against his skin.
“I may be sweet,” Louis whispered, “but you actually taste it.”
And that was enough. If Louis was trying to get his way…well, it worked.
Harry grabbed Louis by his cheeks and shifted so that their lips met once more, not bothering with the usual lightness and sweetness to ease them in. Thanks to several weeks’ worth of practice, he finally felt comfortable enough starting things off, and he could tell that it was some kind of thing for Louis, because he’d practically melt into Harry whenever he started their kiss.
So Harry gave him more of what he wanted, using his slight difference to his advantage and pulling Louis up toward him to deepen the kiss. It was a wonder that even after weeks of doing this over and over again, they found some sort of new excitement in it each time, whether it was in the way that they were angled or how long it took them before taking another breath. But today, it was about doing this for the first time outside, and for whatever reason, it seemed like progress to Harry, like this was an inch closer to acknowledging everything officially –
Harry knew that the voice didn’t belong to either of them, and yet he let the kiss go on for half a second longer than it should have. But when Louis pulled away first, they spun their heads around to find Liam standing there, gawking at them and fuck.
From what Louis had told Harry time and again, Liam was a very sensible boy, one who rarely let his emotions get the best of him. And it seemed applicable even here, despite the show they’d just violated the boy with. Liam just stared at them, blinking wildly at first, before regaining his composure and looking at them like he hadn’t really seen anything worth mentioning. But from the way his brow furrowed, they could tell he demanded an explanation.
“Hi, Liam,” Louis said breathlessly and Harry wanted to smack him because nonchalance wasn’t going to work here, not when they looked disheveled as they did. And it wasn’t like Liam was blind; he’d obviously seen them.
“Louis,” Liam acknowledged seriously. He shifted his attention. “Harry.”
And somehow, the way Liam said his name made it a thousand times worse than hearing it from someone undoubtedly more severe – like McGonagall, perhaps.
“How – ?” Harry started, but the words hitched in his throat.
“I was supposed to accompany Louis to his Quidditch practice,” Liam said coolly, shooting Louis a reproachful look. “But I saw him running outside first and I thought to catch up…only to see this.”
Harry swallowed hard, and Louis’ hands suddenly felt clammy on his neck and fuck almighty why were his hands still on his neck?
He pushed him off and Louis seemed to understand why, because they were still practically on top of each other. The older boy instantly stepped backward, almost comically so, and stared at Liam in a harried, panicky sort of way. Louis rarely lost his nerve, and it would have been adorable if Harry weren’t caught in the same situation.
“So this is a thing, then?” Liam said, his tone even and deliberate. He didn’t mean it in a malicious sort of way, or even in an encouraging one. He just wanted to know, almost like they hadn’t figured it out for themselves yet.
And they hadn’t.
“Look, can you just go back into the castle and I’ll meet you there?” Louis said, not bothering to hide his urgency and his very apparent desire to just have him disappear altogether. “Please?”
Liam opened his mouth as if to say something, but he closed it before any words came out. Rather than shooting Louis another contemplative expression, he turned to Harry instead and gave him a knowing look – one that was full of questions and empathy that he didn’t know what to do with. So he just nodded dumbly and waited until the Hufflepuff boy wandered around the corner and disappeared.
Louis gasped for air like he’d been holding his breath, and maybe he had. But Harry remained frozen against the wall, still slightly shell-shocked from actually having been caught in the act.
“Oops,” he said, half-smiling. “Could’ve been worse, though, yeah? At least it was Liam and not – ”
“We’ve got to be more careful,” Harry said, and if he wasn’t mistaken, he thought he sounded maybe a little bit irritated.
Louis noticed immediately.
“Yeah, okay,” he said soothingly, reaching over gingerly for Harry’s side. But something about his touch was tentative, like he was waiting for Harry to tell him to back off.
Instead, Harry just said, “Look, I understand that you want to keep things between us for now – and Niall and Liam now, I guess. But if that’s what you want, then we’re going to have to keep it toned down. And that means no snogging in the courtyard.”
Louis tried for a playful expression. “But I want to.”
Harry was rarely ever annoyed with Louis, but he found this moment was an exception.
“And I want to talk about us, at least, but we don’t always get what we want,” he grumbled bitterly; it was a child’s argument, but it was still effective.
Louis blinked at him, sobering up at Harry’s words.
“You want to - ”
“No, nevermind,” Harry said wearily, finding that his irritation was already quickly waning; it was hard to stay annoyed when Louis looked as genuinely confused and hesitant as he did just then. He leaned up against the older boy to let him know that there were no hard feelings. “It’s okay.”
Louis wrapped a careful arm around him, obviously disregarding Harry’s plea for them to be careful. Then again, anyone else who might happen to notice would hopefully interpret it as an act of friendship.
“Harry…” he whispered, resting his chin on the younger boy’s shoulder.
“Forget it,” Harry pleaded, and if they weren’t standing outside, he would have kissed the worry away.
But seeing as that wasn’t so much an option anymore, Louis just said, “We can. Talk about it, I mean. If you want.”
Even though Louis couldn’t see him, Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes; it was too easy with Louis sometimes.
“Not until you’re ready,” he said softly, preferring to relax into their closeness.
“No, we can,” Louis pressed, nudging him a little with his nose. “It’s just – I dunno, I’ve really enjoyed all of this so far, and I’ve just been really happy. And I thought that maybe we could see where it went without having a discussion, that’s all.”
“I – ” Harry started lamely. He pulled away so he could look Louis directly in the eye, disheartened to find traces of sadness in those blue orbs. “Look, I’m happy, too. Really. It’s just – this is my first time doing all this, you know? And I just…it’s like once you get a taste for something, you don’t stop wanting it. You want more all the time and, I guess, that’s just the problem. I want more.”
He didn’t even realize how true those words were until he said them.
Louis just gazed at him, and if it was possible, Harry thought he saw a swell of fondness grow behind those eyes.
“I do, too,” he finally said, his eyelashes fluttering slightly. “But this is my first time doing all this, too, you know. Not just with a guy, I mean. But…kind of like it could be serious for once.”
The words registered with Harry and he felt something like the batting of wings inside his stomach. At first, he thought he was going to be sick. But as another second or so passed, he realized it was far from being sick; it was like another part of him burst to life.
“Well, shit,” Louis said suddenly, glancing at Harry with mild concern. “See, that’s why I didn’t want to talk about this right away, because then I knew I’d say something like that and – ”
Taking a cue from Louis’ book, Harry ignored the obvious need for discretion and pressed a quick kiss to Louis’ lips. When he pulled away, the older boy just stared at him, dumbfounded.
“We don’t need to talk about it, then,” Harry reassured him. “Really. I can wait. I’m good. I’m so good.”
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