Chapter Text
"Okay darling, just like always. On the count of three -- "
"Mum, it's my last year. I think I know how to do this by now."
Jay raises an eyebrow at Louis' irritated tone, and Louis cringes. "Sorry, never mind. Yeah, sure. On the count of three."
"Ooh, can I do it? Can I count? Please?" Phoebe asks enthusiastically, raising her hand excitedly and nearly taking Daisy's eye out in the process. She ignores Daisy's affronted squeak and widens her eyes at Louis.
Louis smiles at her fondly. "Of course you can, love. Do the honors."
"One," she nearly shouts, and Jay rests her hand gently on the back of Phoebe's head. "Quieter darling, there are Muggles around," she hushes, and Phoebe claps a hand over her mouth. "Sorry," she mutters, and then turns back to Louis with a smile. "Two," she says at a normal volume, and Louis chuckles to himself, grasping the trolley handle tightly. "Three!"
Louis takes a deep breath, makes sure that Marvin is still snug in his cage, and runs for it.
Despite the fact that he's done this six times before, he can't help but feel the butterflies flit about his stomach. The closer he gets to the wall, the worse it gets, and he can feel the panic starting to build -- but then the bricks melt away around him and with a whoosh of air and sound, he's on Platform nine and three-quarters.
He pauses for a moment, taking in the Hogwarts Express, before remembering that Lottie should be right behind him. He manages to get himself, Marvin, and the trolley out of the way just as she emerges from the brick, looking slightly frazzled and out of breath.
"Still not used to that," she mutters, and Louis barks out a loud laugh.
Moments later, Phoebe and Daisy run out together, giggling, followed by an annoyed-looking Fizz and an amused-looking Jay.
"Alright my loves, let's get your brother and sister on the train. Phoebe, don't touch that boy's broomstick please, it's not yours!"
Louis rolls his eyes at his sisters and starts pushing his trolley along the platform, Marvin hooting contentedly. He feels a grin slowly spreading across his face the further he walks into the mass of students greeting each other and saying goodbye to their families. He's back.
Random people call out his name left and right, yelling greetings and promises to catch up once they all arrive at the castle. Louis smiles and waves at all of them, and he can feel everyone's eyes on him as he does so. He loves it.
People move out of his way as he passes, some smiling at him, others looking slightly scared. That part bothers him a bit; he's not a mean, or scary person, so there's no reason for them to look so terrified. He's not quite sure why any of them do that, to be honest.
He continues making his way through the crowd, scanning clusters of heads for familiar faces. He hears people whispering his name as he does so, which makes him stand up a bit straighter, chest puffing out. He represses smirk after smirk, basks in the attention. He's at his element here. This is where he belongs.
He's not going to pretend like he doesn't know that he's one of the most revered students at this school. Being the Slytherin Hourse Quidditch Captain for three years in a row -- and winning the Cup for two of those three years -- has that sort of effect. The first and second years look up to him, the fourth years want to snog him, and the sixth and seventh years all want to be a part of his friend group, hoping to score invites to his infamous, tri-annual parties in the Room of Requirement. His reputation is something very important to him; it offers him some fairly nice perks, to be completely honest.
The best part about this whole thing, though, is that this reputation isn't limited to Slytherin House. Ever since the end of the Second Wizarding War and the defeat of the Dark Lord -- who gave Slytherin a truly terrible name, Louis thinks with disgust -- the social climate changed dramatically. House divisions are still there, of course, but they're not hostile, never. It's all about friendly competition, and Louis is proud to say that he has good friends in every single house.
But then his gaze lands on a familiar mop of messy hair, and Louis' lip curls with disgust.
He should probably modify his statement; it's all about friendly competition, except for when it comes to Harry Styles.
Like Louis said, reputation is important. Louis almost completely runs the fucking school. Almost, because Harry Styles.
Everyone loves all-around golden boy Harry Styles. He is the pride and joy of Gryffindor, and is one of McGonagall's absolute favorites. He receives perfect marks, is friends with everyone (including the professors), and is even fairly decent on a broom. He's funny, sweet, confident -- and let's not even get started on his looks. He can literally make girls -- and boys -- drop their fucking pants for him just by glancing at them, although he never actually hooks up with anyone because he claims that one night stands are "disrespectful" -- because of course he has a perfect moral compass too, fucking hell -- and that he'd rather be in a relationship with someone than be in some fling. Louis is certain that himself and his closest friends are the only people who actually dislike him -- because they see him for what he is.
And what he is is a kiss-up, a false front, all faux-innocence and deception. It's disgusting.
He notices that Styles has gotten quite tan, as his eyes roam over his body up and down. They're all still in their Muggle clothing, and Harry is wearing a button-up shirt that isn't even properly buttoned (there are probably only three at the bottom that are done up, while the rest of the shirt is just flopping uselessly in the slight breeze, exposing the golden planes of his chest), along with jeans shorts that he's rolled up to his mid-thigh. He's literally glowing, all bright eyes and white smiles, probably talking to Niall Horan -- blonde, Hufflepuff, Irish, Styles' best friend and surprisingly genuine guy; Louis can't understand why he's friends with someone like Styles -- about his incredible summer holiday to somewhere exotic. No one gets that tan anywhere in England.
Louis sees girls tittering about him to their friends as they walk by him, each of them practically undressing him with their eyes. Louis' stomach curls in on itself, because honestly, do they have any self respect? They're fucking drooling and slobbering all over themselves like dogs. So, so disgusting.
Everyone may think Styles is perfect -- Harry himself included -- but he is not fooling Louis. Louis sees right through him.
At that moment, the two make eye contact, and Louis wants to barf because Styles smiles at him -- though it doesn't reach his eyes. "Hi Louis!" he calls in an extraordinarily fake tone of voice, "Stop frowning like that, love, you'll get wrinkles!"
Louis clenches his jaw, ignoring the mutters of people around him that clearly witnessed the exchange. Confrontations between himself and Styles are anything but rare; they take random digs at each other during classes and in the corridors almost every single day during school. Everyone knows that they don't necessarily get along, because honestly, you'd have to be an idiot to not notice -- this has been going on since, what, second year? Maybe even first? Their power struggle is practically famous, what with their respective social statuses within the school.
Louis stops in his tracks and sends Styles a sickly sweet grin in return. "Thanks for your concern, sweetheart, but I've already got a Mum. No need to worry."
Styles' grin grows increasingly strained, and he looks like he's about to retort, but Louis' had enough. He waves again, smile huge, before turning around and continuing to push his trolley along, shoulders tense. His smile slips off of his face the second his back is to Styles, replaced with a scowl. Leave it to Styles to kill his fucking mood on the first day of school. They're not even at the castle yet, for fuck's sake.
He's angrily pushing his trolley to the side, next to another brick column, and is pulling out his trunk and Marvin's cage when he hears a voice from behind him.
"Louis?"
Louis stops and spins around quickly, only to see his mum standing behind him, sisters in tow. "Finally!" she exclaims, "We've been trying to catch up to you for ages! Love, I've got to take the girls and go, alright? Will you please make sure that Lottie gets settled and everything before you run off with your friends?" she steps closer to him and in a quieter tone, adds, "This is only her second year, after all, and I don't think she's gotten over the homesickness yet."
A fond bubble bursts in Louis' chest, and he nods. "Of course mum, I've always got my eye on her, you know that."
She smiles at him sadly, and brushes his fringe out of his eyes. "I can't believe you're going to be finished this year," she says, voice cracking a bit, "What am I going to do when Fizz starts next year, and you're not there to look out for her?"
Louis shakes his head, smiling back at his mum. "Lottie will be old enough to watch over her by then, I promise. Try not to worry too much." He tries to say it lightheartedly, but he finds that his voice cracks as well. He doesn't think anyone ever gets over the homesickness.
His mum pulls him into a tight hug, and Louis hugs her back just as tightly. "We'll see you over Christmas hols," Louis says quietly, and Jay nods, wiping at her eyes. "Alright girls," she says, putting on a cheery tone but still hiding her face from Louis' sisters, "It's time to say goodbye to Lou and Lots!"
Phoebe and Daisy run over to Louis first, and Louis laughs, bending down to hug both of them -- one arm for each. They giggle and squirm as he tickles them, and he pecks each of them quickly on the cheek. "We'll miss you Lou," Daisy says quietly, and Louis shakes his head. "I'll have none of that weepy talk now, y'hear? By the time you lot get home, you'll already have forgotten that you have a big brother, I promise," he says dryly, and the twins burst into giggles again. "Besides," he continues, "I'll be back home before you know it."
They give him one last squeeze before letting go and hurrying over to Lottie, and then Fizz walks over to him, her arms crossed over her chest. "Oh c'mon Fizz," he says jokingly, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her into him. She groans with fake-disgust, but after a couple of seconds, relents, wrapping her arms around her brother's torso. When she pulls back, she's got small tears dotting her eyes, and Louis pouts. "Hey, no need to be upset. We'll be home in a couple of months anyhow."
Fizzy scoffs. "As if I'm upset because of you," she says, "It's just, Muggle school is so boring. I want to go to Hogwarts with you guys, it seems so much more fun."
Louis resists the urge to roll his eyes at her not-very-believable excuse, but he humors her anyway. "You'll be done in just one more year, love. That's all you've got left."
Fizz shrugs and wipes at her nose, and Louis ruffles her hair one last time before looking towards his mum. She seems to have gotten her emotions in check now, and is smiling at all of them genuinely. "Have fun you two! Lottie, listen to your brother, and Louis, don't give Lottie too much of a hard time. We'll write you soon!" She presses a quick kiss to Lottie's cheek, and then one to Louis' cheek, after which she pats his face. "You really ought to shave, love, this scruff is getting out of hand."
Before Louis can retort, she's already ushering them onto the train, practically pushing them toward the door of the cart, a glimmer of laughter in her eyes.
"Love you!" Louis calls to them over his shoulder, and they respond with a chorus of "Love you too!"s. But as Louis is about to turn around to face forward again, and drag his trunk and Marvin's cage up the stairs, he catches a pair of green eyes, flicking back and forth between Louis and his family, studying him curiously.
He raises his eyebrows at Styles, who's got a strange look in his eyes -- one not of hatred nor mockery. It's -- it's indescribable.
Before he can analyze it any further, however, Harry is quickly turning away and bending over to pick up his own trunk, and Lottie is poking him in the back to move. Louis scrambles to pick up his things and practically runs up the stairs, curiously unable to think about anything other than green green green.
****
Once Louis has helped Lottie find her second-year friends -- all of whom positively gaped at Louis when he said hello to them, which he isn't sure he's entirely comfortable with -- he makes his way down to the compartment that he and his friends had claimed as their own since their first year. It's almost at the very back of the train, and nearly everyone he sees on his way there waves a quick hello to him.
After what feels like ages, he finally comes to their compartment door, and slides it open quickly and falls into a seat. "Lads," he says by way of greeting.
"Excuse me," Eleanor says evenly, and Louis rolls his eyes. "Lads and Eleanor," he corrects patronizingly, and the group laughs.
"Look at you," Zayn says jokingly from next to him, punching him lightly on the arm. "Thinking you're too cool to give us hugs now?"
Louis rolls his eyes, grinning all the while, and leans over to give Zayn a hug. "I'm so very sorry, Zayn, how can I make it up to you?" he says sarcastically.
"Oh, just shut it, whatever," Zayn says, trying to push Louis off of him. Louis clings on tightly though, not letting go, and Zayn sighs heavily.
"Oi," Liam says good-naturedly. He's already changed into his Gryffindor robes, and Louis resists the urge to roll his eyes. Ever the planner, Liam. "Hands off my boyfriend, thanks."
Louis lets go and gives Liam a look, ignoring the way Zayn is blushing and preening at Liam's words. He looks between the two of them, and slumps backwards in his seat. "Disgusting, the lot of you."
"I'm with Louis on that one," Eleanor says without looking up from the Muggle romance novel she's reading, wrinkling her nose. Liam and Zayn ignore them both, Liam wrapping an arm around Zayn's shoulders and Zayn nuzzling into Liam's touch instead.
It's funny; Zayn and Liam's relationship would have been most definitely frowned upon, had they been at Hogwarts a mere handful of years earlier. Gryffindor and Slytherin had always been enemies, before. But now, no one even spares them a second glance. Louis would even go so far as to say that Liam and Zayn are Hogwarts' favorite couple; they didn't earn the couple name "Ziam" for nothing. Even Professor Longbottom calls them Ziam when they're together.
They've got an interesting friend group as well, Louis thinks. Himself and Zayn are Slytherins, while Liam is a Gryffindor, and Eleanor is a Ravenclaw. Niall Horan spends time with them as a group sometimes, because he's good friends with Liam, and they all get along well enough -- though there's the slightest bit of tension between Niall and Louis at all times, but that's to be expected and isn't anything personal, seeing as he's Styles' best friend -- and Niall's a Hufflepuff. Louis honestly doesn't know what he'd do had he been confined to being friends with Slytherins and Slytherins only, as was expected before the war. He and Zayn'd probably go mad.
It's also funny, though, to think about how Styles, the one and only person that Louis intensely dislikes at this school, is in Gryffindor. True, their rivalry has nothing to do with their houses, but still. Ironic.
Which brings Louis' train of thought back to that odd moment of eye contact not even twenty minutes before. What was that? He's never made eye contact with Harry Styles without one of them slugging some kind of insult at the other. Nothing like that has ever happened before.
"What're you thinking about?" Eleanor's soft voice breaks him out of his musing, and he jumps in his seat. "Nothing," he says quickly, feeling the tips of his ears turn red. Hm. "Nothing at all."
Eleanor raises her eyebrows at him in that practically patented "stop bullshitting me right now" look of hers, and Louis rolls his eyes, trying to be nonchalant. "Seriously. Nothing."
Luckily, Liam and Zayn are too wrapped up in each other -- literally -- to notice, muttering quiet things in each other's ears. Eleanor gives him one more look before dropping it, instead opening up her book again and continuing to read.
Louis lets out a quiet sigh of relief. Thank god.
****
"I never want to even look at pudding again," Zayn groans from where he's walking down the stairs in front of Louis. Louis rolls his eyes and lightly pushes Zayn's back. "Keep walking, Z. I want to go to bed, and you're clogging up the corridor."
Zayn turns around and glares at Louis for a moment before continuing to walk. Louis stifles a burp.
Dinner at the Great Hall wasn't anything different than usual. They watched the Sorting Ceremony, clapped for all the new Slytherin first-years, ate until they couldn't breathe, and that was that. Louis most definitely did not catch Styles eyeing him weirdly from across the room, nor did he ever catch himself staring at Styles.
"Golden snidget," Zayn says to the wall in the dungeons, and the wall slides over. Zayn and Louis stumble down the passageway into the common room, which is cold as usual, seeing as they're literally under the Black Lake. The windows are completely black due to the lack of sunlight -- during the day, the sun shines through the water and fills the room with murky, greenish-blue light.
As soon as they get into their room, they find Stan Lucas -- one of the more obnoxious seventh years, in Louis' opinion -- laughing to his friends about something or other. Louis knows that he's got a bit of a grudge against him because Louis didn't invite him to his end of the year party last term. It's not Louis' fault though; Stan is kind of a shit, to be honest.
As soon as Louis and Zayn walk in, though, Stan directs his toothy grin at Louis. It gives Louis an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.
"Well well well!" Stan says loudly, "If it isn't Louis Tomlinson! How you been mate?"
Louis forces himself to smile back. "Good, good! How about you, Stan?"
"Alright, alright. But that's not important." Stan's grin grows wider, and Louis' stomach curls in on itself. "What's this I hear about you and Harry Styles?"
Louis' heart jumps out of his chest. "What do you mean?" he asks quickly, probably a bit too defensively. Shit.
"I dunno," Stan says mockingly, "Just, heard about your and his conversation today, back when we were all boarding the train."
Louis pulls a face. "Okay, we had a conversation. It was less of a conversation, and more of him insulting me, and me retaliating. The usual. Why's that a big deal?"
Stan shrugs. "I dunno. Just kind of thought you two should be over this by now. It's obvious that you'll never win when it comes to Harry. He can do whatever he wants."
Zayn steps forward. "Now what's that supposed to mean?" he interjects for Louis, eyebrows furrowed and an angry set to his mouth. Louis feels a sudden rush of affection for his best friend.
Stan shrugs again, smirking. "You think you're the fucking best wizard around," he says to Louis, "But newsflash: you're not. Styles has got you beat."
"All Styles really knows how to do is be a slag," Zayn says before Louis can even process what Stan said, and yup, Louis loves his friends. "Just because he can get into peoples' pants doesn't mean he's better than anyone."
"So that's what it is?" Stan says incredulously. "Holy shit, that's rich. You're pissed because he can pull and you can't, Tomlinson?"
Zayn laughs. "Are you fucking kidding me? Have you seen Tommo in action?" He claps Louis on the back. "Louis can get whoever the fuck he wants."
Stan looks like a cat that's just caught a mouse. "Is that a challenge?"
"Fuck yeah it is. You could literally pick anyone at this fucking school and give Louis mere weeks and he'd easily have him or her wrapped around his pinky finger, without even using any magic," Zayn continues, and Louis widens his eyes. "Zayn," he mutters, "What the fuck are you doing?"
"Alright," Stan says before Zayn can respond, his face lighting up. "This is what I propose: you've got two months to get Harry Styles, the all-star, poster boy for Gryffindor, to agree to date you. Keep in mind that failing means losing your status -- or, self-proclaimed status, more like -- as a Slytherin elite; you'd embarrass yourself, and you know that Styles wouldn't hesitate to tell everyone if you did something stupid. No magic allowed." He pauses, smiling. "Good luck."
Louis' jaw drops. "No!" he exclaims, "I never agreed to this! It was all Zayn, I -- I didn't -- "
"Are you backing out?" Stan says mockingly. "Should I tell everyone that you're a weakling, then? Louis Tomlinson, our brave Hogwarts favorite, too scared to take on a dare?"
Zayn nudges him encouragingly. "You could do it, Lou," he hisses in Louis' ear. "I'm confident that you could. And I'm not just saying that."
Louis looks at Zayn, then back to Stan. He clenches his jaw and balls his hands up into fists. "I -- " He swallows thickly, mind spinning in an attempt to weigh out his options.
With Stan smirking at him like that, and Stan's friends watching their exchange with shocked looks on their faces a little ways away, it doesn't look like he's got many.
He looks back at Zayn, who gives him a small nod of encouragement. Louis nods back, and then takes a deep breath. "Yeah," he says firmly, looking Stan dead in the eyes. "It's a dare."