#no06

[ricotivac10]

@manchesterunited @fifaworldcup @equipedefrance 🇫🇷🇫🇷🇫🇷🇫🇷👎🏻⚽️final 😭😭😭 @paulpogba #no10 #no06 ✔️🔝🔵⚫️⚪️🔵 @adidasfootball @adidas @nikefootball @nike (à Getafe, Madrid)

[karukara]

LMWC - NO.06 - Heaving Through Corrupted Lungs

Warnings: no warnings included

There are those rare moments in Louis’ life where he feels blissful, almost at peace, for just a few minutes, maybe even seconds before he’s violently dragged back down to the cruel reality of the world. Louis experiences a moment like this one October night, in his final year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He’s in his private dormitory, a privilege he is most thankful for ever since becoming Head Boy, and it’s warm and cosy and the world outside is still, kind of eerie but peaceful. The best thing about it is he’s with Harry, and even just thinking about him drives Louis insane. Harry’s this magnificent walk of life with such beautiful eyes, and an aura of welcome about him. He’s charming, knows the words to get to your heart and can easily make any person swoon with just about the snap of his fingers. He’s very well recognized at the school, I mean, he’s no Quidditch star or whatever but he knows everyone and his grades aren’t bad either, so most of the teachers are quite fond of him. A lot of girls are head over heels for him, especially the third years (for whatever reason, Louis still doesn’t know). The very good thing about Harry that Louis finds is that Harry’s his boyfriend, his beautiful boyfriend with beautiful eyes and a beautiful smile and beautiful hair.

Right now they’re reliving their many nights in the dark dormitory, full of lust and need. Louis is on his back, with Harry hovering above him, his eyes bright even with the little light seeping through the room. It never failed to get a gasp caught in his throat as he looked into Harry’s eyes, all serious and still, never leaving Louis’. Louis even swears he could come just by looking into Harry’s eyes, but it’s a subject Zayn won’t allow Louis to speak of. But it’s another thing, how much Harry’s features alone has such an effect on Louis, and how it drives him insane.

He loves him.

So when Harry’s buried his neck into Louis’ face and Louis’s fingernails are scratching along Harry’s lengthy back as a loud moan escapes from Louis’ lips and he’s arching up into Harry’s body as he finally reaches his orgasm, his mind races a million miles a minute at about ten different thoughts. How beautiful Harry is, how his features seem to just become more gorgeous each day, how his voice never fails to make Louis smile no matter what and how his laugh is what Louis could probably live off of.

Harry collapses on top of Louis, his breathing ragged and there’s a thin layer of sweat on his forehead. His head is rested on Louis’ chest, feeling the way Louis is breathing so heavily and the way his chest is rising and falling. It fascinates him a lot how calming Louis’ breathing is to him. Louis’ running his fingers through Harry’s hair absently when the latter pushes himself off of his boyfriend, giving him a peck on the lips as he stands up straight and begins finding his clothes. Louis gazes at Harry adoringly, sort of spacing out a little. Harry doesn’t say anything, just continues to button up his white shirt before he makes his way to the wardrobe. Louis almost forgets that Harry isn’t supposed to see inside his wardrobe because of a little purchase he’d made in Hogsmeade a few weeks ago with Zayn.

‘Did you have that sweater from last—?’ Harry stops in the middle of his sentence and Louis’ throat suddenly goes dry. He isn’t supposed to know, not yet.

‘Fancy?’ it’s more a question than a statement and Louis wants to bury himself alive.

‘Yeah I uh, got new dress robes for the Halloween Party,’ Louis mumbles, falling face down onto the sheets in humiliation. God he’s an idiot.

‘Are you going to that then?’ Harry asks.

  ‘Er yeah, and I was wondering … if you wanted to go … with me?’

Harry freezes as he’s slipping his pants on and Louis notices, but Harry quickly shakes it off by continuing to dress himself. He laughs a little and it’s a laugh that’s a bit hysterical.

‘Lou, we’ve been through this before, we can’t risk it… not now.’

‘I know I know, it’s just that … well you promised,’ Louis puts an emphasis on that word with a lot of exasperation because Harry tends to forget like it isn’t a big deal.

‘I remember and I’m sorry it’s not something I’m ready for yet,’ Harry tells him and Louis’ face drops expectantly, it’s not like he’s heard that excuse before. Harry sighs.

‘Please be patient with me Lou,’ he begs softly.

Louis mutters something along the lines of ‘I’ve been waiting since the fifth year, how much longer do i have?’ bitterly but Harry lets it go, lets Louis be angry about it because he should be. This wasn’t the first time the couple were planning on coming out to their peers. But every time they were close to finally telling everyone, Harry would suddenly panic and leave or make about a dozen excuses in stutters. Louis had always been open about his sexuality so it wasn’t news to anyone, but Harry? Darling Harry who has girls falling at his feet and a reputation to uphold being in Slytherin as well as being a prefect? No, people would start to see him differently, that was what Harry feared. Louis thought it was ridiculous but he never told his boyfriend.

‘I told you I’m sorry now didn’t I?’ Harry asks, voice raised in agitation.

‘I know because I fucking heard you but…’ Louis pauses and Harry turns to glare at him.

‘What?’

‘I’m just worried,’ Louis’ blue eyes immediately fall to the floor as he whispered the last word. It was true, he was worried. Two months ago, he and Zayn snuck out of the castle via the secret passageway to Honey Duke’s and their plan was to get as wasted as possible in the Hog’s Head. The problem was, when they arrived, Louis found the pub to be more crowded than usual. A few customers certainly did make his head spin in confusion, the customers in particular being Harry and a red headed girl by his side. Louis wasn’t able to distinguish her face through the dark shadow cast upon the booth Harry and the girl were sitting in but Louis could see Harry’s face clearly though, and there was that look, that same look he gave Louis after they kissed in the library for the first time, that same look he gave Louis when they had sex the first time and many times after that. It was the look Harry reserved for Louis, except the expression he gave the redhead was a level-up to the one he gave to Louis. It was Harry adoration 2.0 and it did nothing but twist the insides of Louis’ chest uneasily and make him go hot in the face. That was the first time, the second time it was another girl as well as the third and … fourth time. Zayn had told him straight from the start to end things now before it got worse, but Louis, Louis is a believer. He believes in hope and forgiveness and new beginnings which makes Zayn roll his eyes because of course Louis would defend the guy he’d been crushing on since he saw him get sorted on their first night at Hogwarts.

‘What are you worried about?’ a slight flicker of concern flashes on Harry’s face quickly.

‘Never coming out, never getting to call you mine,’ it’s not exactly a lie, and Louis only told a portion of the truth because he doesn’t think now is the time to discuss Harry’s affairs. Louis is trying hard to deny it despite the fact that they were drifting and that reason Harry only ever goes to Louis anymore is to have sex.

‘I’m always yours Lou,’ Harry reassures him with a hug and Louis feels slight comfort until Harry pulls away.

‘I have to go now boo, potions homework,’ he kisses him on the forehead before walking away soundlessly. Louis murmurs a ‘love you Haz,’ but he’s too late because the door has already shut softly.

That was one thing that Louis didn’t like about what he had between Harry; being kept a secret.

  ~*~

The sun had lowered behind the mountains at last, leaving a coral tinge to the sky. Students filled up the hallway of the magnificent castle excitedly as they chatted back and forth about the party. White little lamps with warm golden lights were floating low along the pillars of the hall and the usually cold walls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was providing warmth for the delighted students.

Louis was looking over the never ending group of students swarming in from each corners of the castle, with bright grins on their faces, wearing smart looking dress robes and gowns, eyes cloaked by intricately detailed masks of shining colours. As Louis continued to look over the endless sea of students, he observed that a majority of them came to the party alone and only a small portion of the students who attended Hogwarts had arrived as a couple.

Louis’ eyes sparkled sadly at the sight of the enthralled students, his little feet dangling over the little alcove that rose about two metres high, keeping him from sight. Between Louis’ fingertips was a scarlet mask with gold detail all over it and he sighed heavily as he thought about his options: to go to the stupid masquerade ball (which he had been very excited about two weeks ago), or to walk away back to his dorms and mope about being dateless. But he was already dressed in his dress robes and Louis was not the type to waste an outfit that took a while to put on and an hour’s effort of hair styling on something he could be missing out on. He hopped off of the cosy alcove, his feet hitting the floors heavily, bringing attention to the knights in the armours. Thankfully, none of the students noticed him.

So Louis merged into the excited crowd, placing his mask over his face and tying it at the back of his head as he entered through the doors of the Great Hall and blimey, he was glad he didn’t sulk back to the Gryffindor Common Room because the Hall looked breath taking, much better than the pathetic school dances his old muggle school used to hold with shitty decorations of streamers and a disco ball. No, Hogwarts blew his mind away. The ceiling was dark, almost black with little white specks scattered all across the sky. Little white lamps floated high above their heads, providing a golden light. The four long tables had completely vanished from the Great Hall, and instead, about fifty round tables were all across the floor, covered in plum coloured table cloths with a small pumpkin and an oil lamp in the middle of the table to bring the Halloween spirit into it.

After a while of searching for his best mate, Louis concluded that it was ridiculous, how he couldn’t distinguish who was behind each mask and yes it might’ve been the sole purpose of the masquerade party, but Louis was growing frustrated by the minute at how he somehow could not find Zayn and it was soon getting embarrassing, standing by himself, looking around and not really having anywhere to be. I mean, six years at Hogwarts and he doesn’t recognize a soul? He must be ill.

Finally, Louis finds himself a seat at a table beside who he learns is Dean Richards in the grade below him. Dean greets him enthusiastically, punching Louis in the shoulder and laughing carelessly as he slouched a little on his chair, a lopsided grin stretched across his freckly face. Louis ignored him as he slumped forwards onto the table, looking around gloomily for a source of entertainment.

About five minutes later, everyone was seated and the Great Hall was loud with excitement and subtle music. The headmaster made a brief speech before inviting the students to a warm meal by opening his arms in a welcoming gesture and within that instant, the food appeared before them. Louis said nothing at all throughout dinner; he just sat there quietly as he sipped on his pumpkin juice and chewed at his chicken. He didn’t eat much during dessert either, just took a cauldron cake and munched on it with a frown, though no one could really tell, what with his mask on and the room being dim.

It was when the food disappeared that Louis sat up, tilting his head in curiosity at what was to happen. Professor McGonagall introduced the band that was playing for the ball before seating herself on the Headmaster’s chair. The band then played the first few notes of their song and people were out of their seats immediately.

Louis kept his face blank, teeth glued together quite angrily, his chin on his chair for about fifteen minutes before Zayn found him with a rather amazed look about his face, pulling at Louis’ scarlet mask.

‘Louis!’ Zayn yelled over the music. ‘Is that you?’

‘Yes, Zayn,’ Louis yells back as enthusiastically as he can.

‘The hall is enchanted!’ Zayn says with such astonishment. ‘I just asked McGonagall and the hall is enchanted so we can’t recognise each other when we have masks on! How sick is that?’

Louis acknowledges that it is pretty sick and he would be more amazed at the enchantment were it not for his gloomy mood because a: Harry rejected him and b: Harry isn’t even here because of a family event he has to attend this weekend.

‘Aw come on Lou; don’t let one party pooper poop your party,’ Zayn chimes with a slight nudge to Louis’ shoulder and he adds softly, ‘you got pretty cool dress robes too and you spent like your life’s savings on that thing. Tear it up a little.’

‘I guess I should,’ it’s not like he has much of a choice really.

So he gets up and wanders around with Zayn for a bit, waddling awkwardly in the sea of dancing students, trying to get people to have a bit of a dance with them before rejecting the idea of getting someone to dance with either of them. Instead of complaining about the lack of action they were receiving, they dance with each other instead, rather foolishly and it eases a laugh out of Louis. There’s only one problem, Louis has a knack of losing Zayn a lot and it’s kind of ridiculous, but they find each other eventually with their endless screeching for the other. Some students even glower at them, but that only feeds them on.

‘You should’ve taken me as a date,’ Zayn says in Louis ear. ‘I’m a lot more fun aren’t I?’

‘Are you kidding me? You’ve practically become my date now!’ Louis says incredulously. ‘No one wants to fucking dance with me except you.’

‘Come off it, yeah?’ Zayn says with a playful knock to Louis’ head.

The rest of the night goes smoothly before Zayn is swooped from Louis’ side and into the arms of some other girl Louis doesn’t recognize. She’s wearing a dark violet dress that’s made out of silk and covers her shoulders, and a black lace mask over her eyes to hide who she is. Louis goes back to his gloomy state. He was hoping maybe Zayn would stop dancing with the girl sooner or later but he gets his answer when the couple disappear past the doors of the Great Hall and left towards the dormitories.

Fucking couples.

It was nearing midnight when Louis was close to losing his shit. He was already drunk on some punch spiked with some alcohol when he began targeting couples all snug and cuddly and snogging. Louis was jealous, because Zayn was gone with some girl (probably fucking her hard into the mattress) and there was no one with him, not even Harry. The couples at the party had what he wanted: endless attention. And the attention Louis desired wasn’t the greedy, narcissistic attention. He wanted someone who only had eyes for him and whose only dance partner was him and whose lips would only be on his purely because there were strong feelings attached to the attention.

He wanted Harry.

And Harry wasn’t even there, he didn’t even tell Louis what he was doing with his family, which, Louis would like to understand is private but he was sick of feeling left out. Sick of feeling less like Harry’s boyfriend and more of a fuck buddy. Boyfriends tell each other stuff, personal and emotional. Fuck buddies talk about the weather and how there was that prank robbery at Gringotts.

‘Stop kissing, you’re gonna break up anyway,’ Louis hisses at a couple he walks past. ‘Everyone knows you’ve been hooking up with Andrew Liston.’

The girl’s eyes widen and her boyfriend looks at her with a questioning glare. Louis doesn’t regret breaking them up because they were terrible together and they were always snogging unpleasantly in the hallway.

‘Not in front of the first years,’ Louis slurs, pulling a couple away from each other who, in turn, stare at Louis worriedly. ‘Most of them haven’t had the talk yet.’

‘They’re eleven—’

‘Shh,’ he places a finger to silence the brunette guy.

‘This can end in two ways, teen pregnancy or a month’s detention. But I will tell you one thing you’ll deny for the rest of your lives; it’s a mistake,’ Louis is now yelling at some fifth years he’d wrenched from one another who were literally groping in front of everyone.

‘Mr Tomlinson!’ McGonagall barked at him.

‘It’s okay professor, as Head Boy, I’m making this whole “no PDA” thing a lot easier for you.’

McGonagall yells at him a little, something about bad example and how he could lose his position as Head Boy or expel him, whatever, Louis goes dizzy at all the words.

Louis staggers away from Professor McGonagall who has given up on telling Louis off for being a nuisance. He’s making his way towards two people who are ravishing each other in the corner of the hall. Literally, they’re going at each others’ mouths hungrily as if this is their final meal.

‘Well, look what we have here,’ he points a finger towards the couple who don’t even realise Louis is standing before them, reeking of liquor and looking shabby in his crumpled clothing with a few stains of chocolate and pumpkin. Louis didn’t know what he was saying, even as her ripped the masks from the disguised faces of the couple.

‘Another, abomination to this establishment.’

Zayn should’ve been there, he really should’ve. It would’ve prevented so much. Louis even wishes Zayn were there the moment he ripped the mask from the curly headed boy who looked into Louis’ eyes with fear. Harry certainly dressed up for the event, as did his date, in black with some white complements. Harry’s mask was ghostly white and on the floor, forgotten. His date wore a black lace mask that curved elegantly on her forehead and below the bridge of her nose. She was tan in complexion with blue eyes, full lips and dark, straight hair.

Louis doesn’t say anything, he only continues to look at Harry with a plea in his eyes.

Lie to me, tell me she doesn’t mean anything, tell me it won’t happen again, or tell me you love me please just … anything

The thoughts race along Louis’ brain so fast it all becomes a blur, a messy headache of a blur that he has to run away from. But he doesn’t want to run away, doesn’t want this night to end, doesn’t want to have wasted his new dress robes for nothing and he most certainly doesn’t want to give Harry the upper hand.

But Louis does run away, Harry chasing behind him, yelling ‘Lou’ all the way to the courtyard where Louis wanted to be alone, taking deep breaths and pressing his hand against the wall to support him. Harry keeps his distance, warily approaching Louis little by little.

‘Lou,’ he says, softly this time and it claws at Louis’ insides.

Harry’s holding his mask to his side, his fingertips barely clutching it.

‘Babe,’ Harry whispers, quiet enough so only Louis can hear. There are students gathered around the doors now, watching, gossiping in each other’s ears. The voices get louder in Louis’ ears, however, and they’re no good. There are constant whispers and arguments about why Louis is outside and why Harry chased after him.

‘Lou, are you okay?’ Harry’s voice is closer to Louis’ now than it was before. His breathing is ragged with every step Harry takes towards him. He’s having trouble trying to keep up right and Harry’s not helping. There’s a shadow looming over Louis and it makes the blue eyed boy coil away in dislike.

‘This is just typical isn’t it Harry?’ he chuckles dryly causing a stir within the onlooking students. Louis isn’t stupid, he’s aware that Harry whisper was only meant for him and for the safety of Harry’s beloved reputation. Harry couldn’t possibly want people to hear him call Louis babe in public; that would just downgrade him to a blood traitor. No girl wants to chase after a man she knows is gay, and no one would be admiring him after knowing that his boyfriend is a mudblood.

‘What are you talking about?’

Louis wants to scream about being kept a secret, he wants to rip his throat out with how much he’ll yell and scream about how many promises Harry’s made and how he failed to keep them. Louis wants to break down and refuse to acknowledge Harry but at the same time, roar his lungs out and ask Harry if he was ever good enough (as cliché as that is but Louis has to know) or if he was worth the while. What was he in Harry’s eyes?

‘You lied,’ he wanted to be strong, honestly, but it came out as a whimper.  ‘Everything that has come out of your mouth has just been one fat lie.’

Louis is glaring at Harry hot through tears and gritted teeth. The latter merely blinks back and wow, he’s good, Louis thinks as he takes a step away from Harry and further into the wall. Harry has other plans, however, and he dares to step towards the shivering boy, attempting to enclose him in his long, defined arms but Louis curls in on himself further, pushing Harry away as much as he can before he physically can’t.

‘Lou, come on, we’ll talk about this somewhere else,’ he whispers and Louis notices the harsh edge to it, so he remains still with his eyes on his knees.

‘No.’

‘God it’s like this every time,’ Harry groans, springing up instantly to rub at his temples and pace about the courtyard, fuming. ‘You’ll make a sob story out of this by making this more dramatic than it is –’

‘You try having someone you love prance around with other girls and lie about it!’ Louis shoots up; infuriated by how the only thing Harry’s planning on keeping after tonight is his irreplaceable reputation at this damned school instead of his boyfriend.

‘Enough Louis,’ a roar rips its way out of Harry’s throat, there was a sudden pain in Louis’ chest, though not from the inside, as Harry’s large hands have blown him back to the ground and despite the already silent crowd watching them the night becomes eerily still and quieter. The kind of quiet that Louis has experienced one night in the Forbidden Forest during a detention with Zayn.

There isn’t an apology that automatically comes out of Harry this time, the curly haired boy only continues to hold his fiery gaze on Louis, his nostrils flaring and his knuckles white as they balled up into fists by his side.

He really shouldn’t have done it, because in moments Louis’ knuckles were red and Harry’s cheek darkened to mauve. Immediately his fist was flaming in pain, his face flushed red because of the blood that had rushed its way to his cheeks. Harry didn’t hold himself back, launching himself so fast at Louis that the latter hadn’t dodged it quickly enough, falling to the ground again. His jaw was burning and instinctively Louis brought a hand up to soothe his now bruising skin. He picked himself up and what happened next became a messy blur in his mind. Blow after blow of punches were thrown at Harry, particularly his face, and Harry didn’t hesitate to injure Louis’ further.

There was a lot of yelling, the most of it from the two boys tangled by their limbs in an attempt to destroy what they had. Louis doesn’t know why Harry was punching him, maybe it was out of anger, maybe he was still determined to keep Louis a secret or maybe because Harry didn’t care anymore. A lot of promises had been broken lately, and the majority of them were Harry’s promises.

‘I’d never hurt you Lou’

‘I love you so much’

‘There’s no one I’d rather have’

‘Soon, love’

They meant nothing anymore, they were ashes on Harry’s tongue and the bitter taste it left on his tastebuds would make him spit it out, because he doesn’t want them, not anymore. They used to be so sweet – like the lollipops he loves at Honeydukes – but now the flavour is gone, and he doesn’t want it anymore, so he has to let it out, because if he keeps it, then bad things can only progress from then on.

But Louis is hurting Harry because he wants him to forget, he wants to wipe every single memory they had together because he feels humiliated. He doesn’t care if the whole school knew what happened between them, but having the knowledge that Harry knows where he likes to be kissed and how he gets picky about his tea and has seen him cry for various reasons sets him off. Louis wants Harry out of that, and maybe violence wasn’t the answer, but Louis was being stubborn so he continued.

‘You’re worthless Louis,’ is what comes out of Harry’s mouth in a bellow so loud and raw his neck veins appear and he goes red in the face, and Louis feels himself freeze as he looks Harry in the eye, his movements slowing as his features soften in confusion and hurt. But it’s a mistake because Harry’s only hitting him harder, adding a new bruise to the side of his face.

Amongst all the blood on fists and faces, Louis felt himself be free of the tangle he was in when Stan pulled him up, holding him back. Harry remained on the floor, his dress robes torn and his mask scratched and discarded on the courtyard floor. Professor Black was standing by the door of the Great Hall, eyes bulging and nostrils flared. There was shock and concern on her face. Behind her, students had gathered on their tiptoes, trying to see what was going on. Louis looked around, students were still in their costumes, masks over their eyes (some over their faces) and with confusion written in their open mouths. He sees how many are gathered all around the hallways, some even atop of the stone, just to get a glimpse and he realises how much of a mistake this is.

  Louis shakes himself off of Stan and he falls on his knees, trembling with shock. A shadow looms over Louis’ shaking body and he knows its Harry because of the shoes he’s wearing. Louis wipes the tears that begin to slide down his cheek, he refuses to sniffle because it’s dead silent and he doesn’t want anyone to know he’s crying. So he raises his chin so his icy glare is set on Harry’s eyes which now reflect the slightest glitter of concern.

Harry’s eyes flicker to the burning bruise on Louis’ cheekbone, darkening by the second.

‘Louis … no, I didn’t—’ his voice is so quiet and apologetic that it squeezes Louis’ heart, the feelings and promises he and Harry had oozing through the bloody fingers that were constricting Louis’ life.

Louis picks up his mask, scraping it off the ground in a quick flash, picking himself up and sprinting away from watching eyes and his mate and Harry. No one calls after him (or maybe he can’t hear them) and no one chases after him – he doesn’t even know where his legs are taking him, he just keeps running, turning corners and trying to get himself lost in the maze-like hallways. He’s ripped his robe off but he’s still clutching the white mask tightly, and he keeps running, until he’s outside of the castle, running downhill towards the Quidditch pitch, his lungs practically frozen with how cold it is outside, not only that, he’s out of breath now and he still doesn’t stop. Louis continues to run until he’s inside the shed where the Quidditch equipment is kept. He’s absolutely raging, throwing cupboard doors open to extract hidden alcohol bottles that are mixed with some quaffles in a small chest.  He’s about to walk out the door when he passes by a mirror and he looks at himself, all bloodied up with messy hair and ripped clothing. Angrily, he rips off his red vest, letting it drop to the floor as he exits the shed with the bottle of Firewhiskey in his hands, knuckles white with how hard he’s holding on to it.

~*~

Harry kept calm, walking at a mediocre pace, his dress robes billowing behind him ominously as he sweeps the hallways in search for Louis. There are no sounds or signs of the blue-eyed boy for a few minutes, just the howling wind that messes his hair and blows his coat to the side. Harry thinks he’s lucky when he walks past the doors that lead out to the grounds where Hagrid’s hut is as well as the Forbidden Forest and … the Quidditch pitch. Harry would never have guessed the Quidditch pitch mainly because Louis usually hides in the Astronomy Tower when he’s upset, but the erratic sparks that are shooting from the pitch that boom loudly and brighten the night sky has Louis written all over it.

As he makes his descent towards the Quidditch pitch, there’s a howling, a constant, raw howling that gets louder and louder with every step closer Harry takes towards the Quidditch pitch. At first, it sounded like the wind (which, by the way, was stronger outside than it was inside) but as Harry pushed himself through the entrance, he realises it’s Louis. Louis who is screaming and waving his wand in the air, yelling incoherent sentences as he’s tripping over himself in the grass, gripping a bottle tightly as noises rip themselves from his throat.

Harry finds himself a seat on one of the benches at the grand stands, remaining silent, his eyes following Louis’ movements, chin lifting whenever Louis provides a spark with his wand. After a while, Harry hears what Louis is saying and it makes guilt settle low in his stomach.

‘You promised, so many times!’ he roars. ‘You blew me off every single time for a lot of girls. My friends knew you were trouble and I knew I shouldn’t be messing with you, but god I was so in love with you I couldn’t help it.’

~*~

Louis turns around and there are tears on his face, his cheek shining with how hard he’s crying. His expression doesn’t change; he still has that heartbroken look about him when he’s looking Harry in the eye. Harry keeps his gaze steady on Louis, his expression blank and his lips pressed tight.

Louis takes a swig of the bottle, feels his throat burn and more tears form at the corners of his eyes. He lets out a hiccup and he falls apart a little more as he tries to let a thousand questions out of his mouth.

‘You let me wait for two years, I waited two fucking years. Tell me how long was it after we started going out that you finally got bored of me?’ Harry doesn’t reply, but that doesn’t stop Louis. ‘How long did you pretend to love me? How many times did you have to reassure your new girlfriend that she was the only one for you and that she was the other half of you that kept you sane and happy and secure?’ Something flickers across Harry’s face but it disappears quickly as he resumes his brooding expression.

‘At least everyone knew you had someone Harry,’ Louis continues bitterly. ‘How fucked up is that? Everyone knew before I did and d’you know how I found out?’

Harry’s silence was beginning to annoy him.

‘I found out because you were at the Hog’s head with some girl, and you didn’t stop. There were more girls Harry and they came and went as they pleased. What does that make me? Are you embarrassed of how I am? A gay muggleborn… or are you trying to deny your sexuality or—or figure out what you want because I’m sick of it. I’m sick of you prancing around getting what you want every single time. You used me and you I let you get away with it for so long and I always asked myself whether you felt good about it or not.’

Harry’s lips part momentarily, but he clenches it shut and his jaw becomes prominent as he swallows in whatever he was going to say.

‘What, Harry? What are you going to say? Are you going to tell me that our relationship never worked out for you? Because if you dare to even say something like that, after all those nights and all those moments that we were together, intimate and supporting of one another,  I will never speak to you again.’

Harry blinks. Louis goes mental.

‘You promised me… so many things, and the one promise, the most important promise you made me was that you would try to make us work. Do you know how it feels to be told that “tonight is the night … we’ll do it … tell everyone about us” and then show up to a common room that isn’t yours, by yourself, to be judged by so many people and waiting there, for two hours until your best friend comes over and drags you out because your boyfriend was up in the Astronomy Tower, piss drunk and passed out on the platform?’ Louis is struggling to breathe, he’s taking deep breaths and he’s hurting with every heave of his chest as the icy cold air penetrates his lungs and solidifies them into ice. He’s shivering in his white dress shirt that’s unbuttoned at his chest; the Firewhiskey is limp in his hand and piercingly cold on his clothed thigh. He wants to ask Harry if he meant what he said, about Louis being worthless and pathetic, but instead he says—

‘Do you love me?’

Harry looks into Louis’ eyes for a long time, shoulders slumped and lips pursed firmly in a thin line. For a while there is only the noise of the wind lifting the leaves into the air and the trees whispering as the night continues to grow deeper. Finally, Harry bows his head, fiddling with the ghostly mask in his hands before he puts it back on and stands up without looking at Louis as he turns his back on him, making his way back towards the castle, where his friends and the girl he was snogging most likely awaited him, leaving Louis to sink to the muddy grass, faint with defeat.