Archive of Our Own

Harry's best friend before The News came out was a girl named Matilda who was born with two legs but one foot. Not that anything was wrong with that, of course. It didn't bother her and it didn't bother him, but evidently, it bothered the school bullies. One ordinary Wednesday a few weeks before his eleventh birthday, he poured her a glass of milk and the next day, she woke up with two feet. Harry was banned from seeing her, to say the least.

He received his letter of acceptance from Hogwarts, school for young witches and wizards, a day and two hours after that.

It's not that he didn't believe in magic, it's that no one else did. It's that despite the bloodless scratches and the scabs that healed within seconds, no one bothered to mention that there could be an extraneous reason for his impeccable immune system or the way his room tidied itself when no one was watching.

It took a few days, which turned into weeks, which turned into none other than Professor Neville Longbottom himself turning up at the Styles' breakfast table and turning Gemma's ponytail into a cactus.

++

Diagon Alley, albeit charming, is a hassle to figure out. It seems that everyone around him either has an escort or has had years of experience in the area, while Harry’s been walking past the same three shops time after time, face turning red as he tries to figure out what on earth a "gringott" is. When he arrives at what appears to be the entrance to the underworld but is instead called Knockturn Alley, he decides to take matters into his own hands and ask an adult where to find the supplies on his crumpled piece of paper.

By the time enough fingers point him in the right direction for him to complete his shopping, he’s got a only a few minutes left to pick out a pet - a crucial necessity - and ends up spending at least ten minutes running frantically from one side of Magical Menagerie to the other trying to decide between the charming fluffy Persian cat and the suave Siamese one.

"I'd pick the Siamese one if I were you," says a boy with dark hair and shabby jeans. He’s standing smack in the middle of the two options and Harry didn’t even noticed him.

"Why don't you buy it, then?"

The boy shrugs, smiling slightly. "I'm already set. I'm getting my older sister's owl. He's pretty old, and I actually think he's dying or something, but he's cool enough for me."

"Sick," Harry agrees, although he can't for the life of him figure out why anyone would want an owl as a pet. "What's his name?"

"Ulysses. It was my idea."

"Nice. What's your name?"

The boy grins. "Zayn. But I have to go - I'm going to miss the train. So are you, actually, if you don't hurry up. Get the Siamese."

++

Harry, for purposes that were entirely his own and not at all influenced by anyone, ended up buying the Siamese cat. He almost named him Alfajor, in tribute to his family trip to Argentina, but he decided on Macchiato because he wouldn't see a Starbucks until next summer. And the colour match was just too tempting.

Either way, his cat doesn’t get along with other animals, as he discovered when a boy's pet lizard found itself halfway down Macchiato's throat. He was sitting in a compartment alone on the train - after a wild adventure of running through a brick wall and barely making it on time - and was waiting to politely introduce himself to some potential friends, but he definitely wasn't expecting this.

"Oi! That's my lizard your cat's eating!" The boy squawks and grabs Macchiato around the neck like it’s nothing.

"Hey! Sorry, but please don't choke my cat!" Harry yelps in response. "Macchiato, let's open up and not eat lizards, does that sound okay?" He says gently.

The boy, apparently, isn't having any of it because he curls his fingers inside Macchiato's mouth and pulls down so hard Harry’s surprised the cat's jaw doesn't snap. His lizard, fortunately, slides out and falls onto the seat between them with a soft thud.

"I can't believe you put Merlin through that," the boy grumbles, petting his lizard as if it’s the holy grail.

"Me?" Harry scoffs. "I can't help that Macchiato finds your lizard appetizing!"

"Merlin's a dragon, not a lizard, number one, and number two, what in the hell is a maffiato?"

"Macchiato! It's a type of coffee, haven't you been to Starbucks before?"

"Star what?"

"Starbucks!"

The boy throws his hands up in the air by his head. "What language are you speaking?"

"Louis!" A blond boy interrupts from outside the compartment, walking abruptly in and ruffling the boy - Louis's - hair. "What are you yelling about?"

"Merlin just nearly became catnip, that's what," Louis says.

"You're joking."

"I'm not. Mariano here was chewing on him when I walked in."

"Macchiato wasn't chewing on Melon!" Harry clarified.

"Melon!" The blond boy laughs, clutching his stomach. Louis slaps a hand over his mouth.

"You did not."

"What?" Harry asks.

"You did not just confuse the greatest wizard of all time with a fruit."

"Lou, Dumbledore's the greatest wizard of all time and you know it."

"Niall, it's time you stop lying to yourself."

Niall shakes his head, rolling his eyes at Louis and turning instead to face Harry. "I'm Niall. This is Louis. Sorry about him, he's proper evil, he is."

"It's true," Louis confirms.

"I'm Harry."

"Can I see your scar?" Louis asks and Niall chokes on another laugh.

"Sorry?" Harry asks.

Louis narrows his eyes. "Are you a muggle born or something?"

"A what?"

"Well that answers that," Niall says, slapping a hand to Harry's shoulder. "You've got a lot to learn. Basically, your parents aren't wizards, and ours are, so we know a bit more than you about, well, everything."

"I figured that much," Harry supplies. "Do all wizards already know each other?"

"What? No. Me and Lou are just family friends. Unfortunately."

"You love me," Louis says.

"I actually don't."

“Anyway, Niall here is a definite Gryffindor. I’m a Slytherin, no doubt. What are you?” Louis asks.

Harry sighs. “I’m sorry. I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Gryffindor is the best house. It’s for the brave,” Niall says.

“While I love when you get proud about your house, Nialler,” Louis starts, “Slytherin is actually the best house. It’s for the cunning and ambitious.”

“House?” Harry asks helplessly.

“When we get to Hogwarts, we’ll be sorted into one of four houses,” Niall explains. “Gryffindor, for the brave, Slytherin, for the ambitiously evil-”

“Hey!”

“You know it’s true. Anyway, continuing. Ravenclaw, for the smart and education-driven, or Hufflepuff, for the...kind.”

“I’m sure Hufflepuff’s got a lot more to it than that, Nialler.”

“You try explaining it, then.”

Louis shuts his mouth and purses his lips, laying back in his seat.

“Right,” Harry says. “So how do you know which house you’ll be sorted in?”

“The sorting hat will tell you, of course,” Niall says.

"Right," Harry says dumbly. "The hat will tell you."

++

It's easily the most confusing day of his life, which he isn't too happy about. Harry's usually the boy with the grasp on the situation, the person who explains things to others, but Louis and Niall seem content letting him figure everything out on his own. After he asks who Dumbledore is and is answered with a curt laugh from Louis and a sigh from Niall, he resolutely gives up his curiosity and feigns understanding for the rest of the conversation.

Luckily, he spots Zayn from Diagon Alley buying a frog of some sorts at the trolley and calls him over.

"Hey, you're the cat boy from Diagon Alley," Zayn says when he sees him. "I'll come over, let me just get Liam."

Liam turns out to be a know-it-all, but Louis turns out to be an even bigger know-it-all, as Harry finds out when they challenge each other to name more facts about their favourite broom-riding teams. Broom-riding is apparently a professional sport in the wizarding world.

Zayn may very well be the nicest person Harry's met all day. He doesn't roll his eyes when Harry asks what Quidditch is and he offers Harry a bite of his chocolate frog, although Harry startles when it moves and throws it back at Zayn's face in an unprecedented frenzy. Zayn only grins, though, and tells Harry not to worry; it took him a while to get used to it too.

Overall, Zayn's a nice person. So is Niall, and Liam and Louis too, once they've familiarized themselves with the fact that Harry can teach them just as many muggle things as they can teach him wizarding things. It's a very nice balance, Harry thinks, as Niall launches into an explanation of owls and their uses as pets. When he's finished, he promptly asks Harry why muggles would want to own dogs, which Harry figures is fair.

By the time they've arrived at the castle, they realize they've forgotten to put on their robes and throw them on in a haste. Harry puts his on backwards at first, which sends Niall into a fit of laughter, but Liam shakes his head and helps him put it on correctly, muttering, "You've got a lot to learn," under his breath with a small smile.

++

Niall looks prouder than Harry's seen him in all of his three hours of knowing him as he walks to the Gryffindor table, cheeks red and smile in full blast.

Zayn's next, alphabetically, sitting down tentatively on the stool and biting his lip when McGonagall sets the sorting hat atop his head. It bellows, "SLYTHERIN!" and though Harry has little knowledge on the houses, he's definitely surprised. Zayn seems just as surprised, raising his eyebrows in shock and stumbling awkwardly towards the Slytherin table.

After a girl with an astonishing case of freckles and a boy whose name Harry swears is Thumb, if he didn't mishear, it's Liam's turn to be sorted. To nobody's surprise, the hat shouts "GRYFFINDOR!" the second it touches his head.

Harry's the first and only first-year wizard with an S last name, so when he's the first one called after the R's, he starts. Gryffindor, he thinks as he walks up to the stool. Definitely Gryffindor, with Niall and Liam. The hat doesn't say anything for a long while after it's placed on his head. After a minute or two, finally, it says, "Ravenclaw".

"What?" Harry audibly says as McGonagall ushers him out of the stool and gives him a friendly push towards his table. "What?" He asks again when he's sat down and has been clapped on the back by a blond boy with dark brown eyes and and brunette girl with a startling smile.

"Hi! Welcome to Ravenclaw," she says. "We're the best house. Smartest. I'm Daisy; I'm a second year."

"I'm Harry. It's nice to meet you," he says politely, although the T's are now being sorted and he looks up eagerly, hoping at least one of his friends is sorted into the same house as him. To his chagrin, however, Louis is sorted happily into Slytherin with Zayn, and Harry's left all alone in Ravenclaw.

++

Classes take them all by surprise, Harry is happy to find out. He's definitely not the only one without a clue as he waves his wand dumbly at a feather and wills it to float. The rotation today is Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, so he happily watches as Liam accidentally turns his feather to liquid and Niall sticks his wand up his nose in frustration.

The whole 'magic' thing is starting to feel a lot less ominous than he first expected with the new realization that every first-year is just as lost as he is. He's definitely making progress, though. Niall and Louis explained Quidditch to him, finally, and Harry thinks he’s got the hang of it - although he thinks he’ll always prefer football. He’s learning, albeit slowly, to use a quill (although he can’t see the point) and the other day, he ate his first whole chocolate frog without letting it jump out of his fingers.

He’s thankful for his friends, more than anything. Despite the solitude granted to him from being the only Ravenclaw in his close circle, he spends more time with them than he’s ever spent with anyone - even his parents. He spends hours with Zayn in the library, immersed in books disproving everything he was taught as a child, with Louis and Niall watching Quidditch matches, and even feeding the hippogriffs with Liam on Sundays when Hagrid (an old friend of Liam’s, apparently) lets them.

He’s only eleven years old, but he feels like he’s been waiting too long for his life to become as exciting as it is now.

-------

By fourth year, quite honestly, Harry is tired of his best friends. Louis’s feet have progressively accumulated a stink so vile that Harry’s is surprised the Slytherin dorms haven’t been evacuated, Liam hasn’t touched the ground since second year when he started playing Quidditch, Niall steals everyone’s butterbeer, and Zayn, well. Zayn.

There’s nothing wrong with him, per say. Infact, he’s probably the kindest person Harry’s ever met. He befriended and chats with all the house elves and ghosts, he brings leftover biscuits to the giant squid in the lake when no one else would dare dip a toe in the water for fear of it, he even helps first and second years with their homework during his free time. He’s somehow got it all, Harry realized in third year as he watched him make friends with Professor Slughorn in potions class, but not in the conventional way. He hasn’t got girls at his feet or a Viper 3000 broomstick, but he has got a nerveless charisma in a way that takes every professor’s breath away.

Harry can’t figure out whether it makes him angry or charmed. Zayn is one of his best mates, after all. He spends most of his time with him and he makes him laugh and sometimes he feels like he’s the only one who understands him but something about him makes him want to snatch the book he always carries around and ask a million questions.

He doesn’t, though. He does sneak out of his common room and meets him by the entrance to the library on the second floor. Zayn’s not there yet, so he hangs around awkwardly and toes at a crack in the stone under his feet, hands in the pockets of his robes.

“Hey, sorry,” he hears after a few minutes. When he looks up, Zayn’s a step away, pushing hair out of face and jogging up to Harry breathlessly.

Harry checks his watch. It’s two o’clock and seven minutes. “You’re late. Where’s Lou?”

Zayn makes an apologetic face. “I know, I know. I’m sorry. It’s a funny story, really. Actually, it’s pretty scary. I woke up and Ulysses, was, like, dying. Swear on Merlin’s balls—”

Harry snorts and Zayn grins. “Let’s go. Keep talking.”

They wait for the stairs to stop moving as Zayn continues. “So, like, I told Ulysses to wake me up at two, right? Anyway, I’m sleeping and suddenly I hear this choking sound, so of course I wake up ‘cause I’m like, ‘Is Louis finally choking on the putrid smell of his own body odor?’ so I wake up and look over at Lou’s bed, but it’s empty! So I look around for the source of the choking and it’s coming from none other than my own Ulysses! Can you believe it?” He looks at Harry in disbelief.

“Actually, I can. Isn’t Ulysses, like, older than us?”

Zayn shakes his head and waves Harry’s statement away with his hand. “That’s—not important. Anyway, Ulysses is literally on the floor by my trunk, choking to death on his own tongue, the idiot. So I get up and give him a little shake and try to, you know, save his life. So by the time I’m done, it’s 2:03 and I’m late so I sprint out of the dorms, end Peeve’s life for the second time, trek through the Forbidden Forest, defeat the Dark Lord, resurrect Professor Binns—”

Harry laughs out loud at that, elbowing Zayn in the ribs as they reach the ground floor of the castle. “Shut up.”

Zayn shakes his head. “I wasn’t done. Anyway, resurrect Professor Binns, kill the basilisk under the girl's’ bathroom sink, seek advice from Dumbledore’s ghost, and then, finally, I manage to leave the common room and meet you.”

“I hate you, you know. Your stories are the worst,” Harry grins. “You’re not funny. I actually lose IQ points every time I hear you speak.”

Zayn laughs and Harry shushes him. “What points? On what kind of test?”

Harry shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “It’s a muggle thing. Anyway, you never told me where Lou was.”

“That’s because I don’t know. I mean, he’s probably already there, waiting, but I don’t understand why he would leave without me. Then again, there are a lot of things I don’t understand about him.”

They stop in front of the grand entrance and Harry finally gets a chance to look at Zayn. He’s still wearing his pajamas under his robe. It’s one of those pajamas, too - the kind that pure and half-bloods wear, with the button down shirt and the actual pajama bottoms. Harry’s wearing pajamas, too, but in the form of joggers and an AC DC t-shirt.

“Tele-fission show?” Zayn asks, pointing to Harry’s shirt.

“Television. And no, it’s a band, you nitwit.”

Zayn raises his hands up by his head. “Hey, I wouldn’t know.”

Harry laughs. “I know that.” He looks at the colourful doors a metre away from them. “So, are we doing this?”

Zayn grins, reaching for the handle. “Yep.”

++

When they get to the greenhouse, they find that they’re the only ones there, despite their plans to meet with Louis, Liam, and Niall.

“Are we early? Didn’t we agree on two?” Harry asks into the dark once the door has closed behind them. Zayn shifts and when Harry turns to face him, he can only make out his black hair in the dark, falling over his forehead without its usual magical gel.

“Yeah, we…” Zayn trails off, eyeing the empty greenhouse suspiciously. He takes a step towards Harry and wraps a tentative hand around the wrist of his wand arm before Harry can cast a lumos.

“Wha—” Harry starts but Zayn shushes him, leaning in more. He nods his head towards a shadowy figure in the adjacent corner of the room and Harry silences, nodding.

Zayn steps away and clears his throat. “I wonder where they are,” he calls loudly into the darkness, turning to face the dark shape in the corner.

Nothing happens for a solid few seconds, then the dark shape lunges forward and Zayn raises his wand with a grin. “Levicorpus, you wanker.”

The figure grunts out a. “Fucker!” as his feet leave the ground and he flips completely upside down.

“Do a lumos, Haz,” Zayn says. Harry does and when the light fills the room and Niall is revealed to be hanging upside down from the ceiling, Zayn nearly dies laughing, kneeling forward and clutching his stomach. After a minute or so, Zayn says, “What were you expecting, Ni?”

Niall groans. “I wasn’t expecting you to see me.”

“Always been faster than you,” Zayn says and blows the tip of his wand like it's a gun, though Harry suspects he doesn’t know what a gun is.

“Not faster than me, though!” Louis jumps from behind a potted plant and shouts, “Densaugeo!”

“Ow!” Zayn yelps, slapping a hand over his mouth. “The hell, Louis? Making my teeth grow? That your idea of a duel?”

Harry doubles over when he sees Zayn’s elongated front teeth, unable to breathe for a solid minute. “Sorry, sorry,” he wheezes when Zayn glares at him. “Can’t help it.”

“I can’t believe you went there, Zayn,” Niall mutters, face now red. “All I was going to do to you was cast a tarantallegra.

“You know I don’t dance, Niall,” Zayn says with a lisp that only causes Harry to laugh harder, Louis joining in.

Once Niall’s released from the ceiling, Zayn’s teeth are righted, and Liam appears from the giant dittany he was hiding behind, Harry clasps his hands together and says, “So what’s the dealio? Why are we here?”

Louis grins wildly. “I have a plan, boys.”

Liam sighs. “No.”

“What? C’mon, Liam, I haven’t even said it yet.”

“I already know it’s gonna be stupid.”

“Okay, I’m ignoring you.” He turns to face Harry, Zayn, and Niall. “I have a plan.”

Harry shakes his head. “It’s really not a good idea.”

Louis throws his hands up. “You haven’t heard it!”

“Yes, but I’ve heard all your prior plans and I’m not a fan so far.”

“Okay, I’m gonna channel this negativity into revealing my plan with extra oomph. Drumroll please,” Louis beckons to Zayn, who doesn’t move and sends Louis a challenging glare. Niall pats his knees twice. “Okay, here it is: We steal a unicorn.”

Nobody says anything for a while, then Harry hears the door opening and sees Liam walking out.

“Liam!” Louis calls. “Come back!”

Liam groans and turns back around. “Louis, how do you come up with the stupid things that come out of your mouth?”

“It’s a brilliant idea!”

“It’s really not,” Harry says, finally voicing his opinion. “Possibly your stupidest yet.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry sees Zayn grin and cover his face with his hands. “Unbelievable. This is why you made us wake up at two a.m?”

Louis falters. ‘I—I thought you guys would want to! Whatever, your loss. All of you.”

“Lou. You know it’s illegal to basically do anything to a unicorn that’s not just watching it in all of its grace?” Zayn says.

Louis shrugs. “Not like we’ve always followed the rules before.”

“True,” Zayn agrees and uses a stone as a stool, stretching his legs out in front of him. Harry follows, plopping down next to him.

“So why are we in the greenhouse?” Niall asks.

“Ask Zayn,” Liam grins.

“Hm?” Harry nudges Zayn, curious to hear, now.

“Oh, uh.” Zayn dips his head down, scratches the back of his neck. “Perrie Edwards—you know, that hufflepuff?” He says to the young mandrake roots by his knees. “She said there’s good smoking stuff here. Also in Greenhouse Four. But mostly here. Although I kind of, uh. Forgot to ask which plant.”

“Who’s Perrie Edwards?” Louis asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Clearly Zayn’s future girlfriend,” Niall sighs, “but it’s October and none of us thought to bring a scarf and it's three in the morning, can we go back inside?”

“Agreed,” Liam says from behind his hands, where he’d undoubtedly tried to take a nap.

++

“So who’s this Perrie Edwards?” Harry asks Zayn on a pleasantly warm Sunday afternoon by the lake. They’re supposed to be working on a grueling history of magic paper but it was long forgotten when the sun finally peeked through the clouds and Harry gave in to his urge to close his eyes and lay his head down. Zayn graciously offered his lap, which Harry couldn’t refuse, and only slightly regrets now that the edge of Zayn’s hard copy of Madcap Magic for Wacky Warlocks is digging into his forehead.

“You’ve seen her around,” Zayn replies. “She’s in Hufflepuff. Blonde hair, blue eyes. The weird type.”

“Why haven’t I heard of a Perrie?” Harry throws an arm over his eyes to shield them from the sun.

Zayn sighs, not putting his book down. He looks nice from this angle, Harry realizes. Objectively. “Periwinkle.”

“What?”

“Is her full name. Periwinkle Edwards.”

Harry removes his arm and sits up, turning around to face Zayn. “You’re kidding!”

“I’m not,” Zayn shrugs and focuses on his book when Harry starts laughing.

“Her parents hate her!”

“Harry,” Zayn mutters, turning the page.

“Zayn,” Harry responds and Zayn allows himself to smirk.

“Periwinkle,” he mumbles under his breath and finally laughs, just a quiet outtake of breath. He doesn’t look up from his book when he does but it's enough for Harry to smile and lay back down.

++

It’s not until December that Zayn finally asks Perrie out on a date. They go to the area of Hogsmeade that the boys usually wouldn’t dare enter - where everything is pink (except for her hair, which is purple) and sugarcoated and comes with a stuffed animal. Zayn returns wearing an oversized jumper bearing an animated snufflepuff and Louis laughs for about an hour when Zayn mentions mentions that Perrie has a matching one as they walk towards their common rooms.

“You’re a Slytherin, Zed! And you spent an hour with a girl drinking raspberry tea and eating spinning biscuits.”

Zayn shrugs, smiling coyly when he says, “You and I are both Slytherins, Lou, except I’m not single.”

Liam cheers and claps him on the back while Niall pretends to cast a cooling charm on Louis’s proverbial burn. Harry smiles at the ground, casting his gaze around the stone floor and his shoes, and then Louis’s shoes and Niall’s shoes and Liam’s shoes and Zayn’s shoes. He doesn’t say anything and lets the news settle in his mind. Zayn’s in a relationship.

Zayn clearly notices and knocks Harry’s foot with his, giving a small smile. “You jealous?”

Harry nods. “Totally. Give me Periwinkle’s number when you’re done with her.”

Zayn furrows his eyebrows. “Her number of what?”

“Jesus,” Harry laughs. “Nevermind. Muggle talk.”

“Either way, you’ve got Daisy, yeah?”

“Uh,” Harry starts when the other boys nod along. The truth is, he doesn’t ever think about Daisy until someone brings her up. He can tell she likes him by the way she smiles at him and tucks her hair behind her hair when they talk and offers to do his homework when he starts dozing off on his favourite armchair in the Ravenclaw common room with books still all over his lap. He hasn’t even considered going out with her. She’s his friend, but not in the way the boys are, and even the boys, Harry’s not too sure about sometimes.

He realized one day that the castle is his best friend. Ever since he first walked through its doors and didn’t know the first thing about magic. He hasn’t got time for a love life because he’s busy trying to learn about every area of magic he can by skimming his fingers along the cracks and curve of the stone wall in the tapestry room and by pressing his cheek to the wall that once bore him the room of requirement. He’s a muggleborn - is reminded of it every day - but he feels like sometimes, he’s closer to magic than he is to any other human being.

Maybe it’s because he’s the only Ravenclaw of all his friends, maybe it's seeing the bonds forming between Liam and Niall, and Louis and Zayn from sharing common rooms and dorms and schedules. So he has the castle.

He swears it communicates with him sometimes - through its shifts and whispers, the way he never has to wait for the stairs, the way doors open for him sometimes.

He has the castle and the castle has him.

-------

“No, I’m serious, Haz. Watch her in class today. She hates me and I don’t even know what I’ve done. At first I thought it was Louis ‘cause most teachers hate him, you know? But then Louis dropped the class for divination - the fucker, said he wanted another free period and now he’s realizing divination is actually a lot of work. Anyway, I’m just saying, watch her in class today.”

Harry lets a floating gumdrop hover above the centre of his palm as he listens. “She doesn’t hate you, Zayn.”

“No, she does.”

“She doesn’t. Nothing changed over the summer and she didn’t hate you last year. Professors always say fifth years are the most annoying but they can’t actually hate students for it.”

“Whatever. I’m telling you, you’ll see today. Oh, by the way, have you had defence today?”

“Yeah! What’s your patronus?”

Zayn smiles. “Guess.”

Harry pretends to consider, then says, “Narwhal?”

“What?” Zayn yelps.

“Just kidding. Anteater?”

“Shut up,” Zayn shakes his head. “It’s a wolf. How cool, right?”

Harry nods.

“What’s yours?”

Harry grins excitedly, too impatient to make Zayn guess. “Dove.”

Zayn stills. “Seriously?”

Harry nods.

“That’s so sick, Harry."

Harry nods again and Zayn stares at him for a minute. Finally, Zayn says, “Anyway, what are you getting?”

Harry considers. “Caramel Cobwebs, treacle fudge, plum cake, probably. Some candy floss, too, obviously.”

Zayn nods along seriously, like they're making a business deal. “Nice, nice. You’re forgetting something, though.”

Harry glances at him and narrows his eyes, thinking. Then, “Oh my god, no.” He slaps a hand over his eyes and groans.

Zayn shakes his head. “I won’t tell anyone if you don’t.”

“Zayn, what’s happening to me? Is our school work really so hard that it's distracting me from the most important decisions of my life? I can’t believe I was about to leave Honeydukes without Fizzing Whizbees.”

Zayn laughs out loud and places a comforting hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Forget about it, Haz. It happens to the best of us.”

“What are you getting?”

“Fainting Fancies and Fever Fudge. Don’t have enough for much else and I need reasons to skive arithmancy lessons, since Vector’s out to get me.”

“You’re only getting those two?” Harry asks.

“Actually, can I borrow…” Zayn takes a box of what appears to be edible pink squares off the shelf above his head and squints at the price tag. “...nine sickles and eleven knuts? It’s Pez’s favourite but it tastes like shit and I don’t have enough anyway. Got an expensive taste, that one.”

Harry scoffs. “Nine sickles for Pink Coconut Ice when you can buy regular coconut shavings at any muggle store for a pound? Absolutely not, mate.”

“Please, Harry,” Zayn pleads. “She loves them.”

Harry rolls his eyes, dipping his fingers into his bag and pulling out a handful of coins. “Fine, fine. But I expect you to share those Fainting Fancies.”

Zayn grins and throws an arm over and around Harry’s shoulders, pressing their cheeks together. Harry doesn’t know where he picked up the habit. Niall claps his back when he’s excited and Louis high fives him and Liam ruffles his hair, but Zayn leans in presses their warm cheeks together and it makes Harry breathless every time. He drops his gaze and smiles, face suddenly hot.

“You’re the best,” Zayn reminds him.

“I know.”

Harry shares his Fizzing Whizbees as they walk back to the castle, knocking shoulders. It’s their first weekend of the year and they’ve already got enough homework to limit them from visiting Hogsmeade for sweets, yet here they are.

They stop when they reach the first tree in the courtyard.

“So, where are you off to?” Harry asks, popping three whizbees in his mouth at once and feeling himself lift a few centimetres off the ground.

“Library date with Perrie. You?”

“Actual date with the giant squid,” Harry responds and Zayn laughs.

“Give her a kiss for me?”

Harry nods, smiling, and Zayn adds, “You sure you won’t be too lonely? I can find Niall for you, or maybe Louis or Liam, if they’re not busy doing their...thing.”

Harry shudders. Louis and Liam’s thing involves disappearing for an hour or two and reappearing with bruises on their necks and flushed cheeks. “God. No. No.” He shakes his head. “No. I’ll be fine without being reminded of Louis and Liam’s thing. And Niall’s probably with Barbara—or trying to be, anyway. I’m fine. Go have fun with the wife.”

“She’s not—okay. I’ll see you after?” Zayn pats Harry's cheek lightly and turns around to walk back to the castle.

Harry nods and waves Zayn off, retreating to his favourite patch of grass and spreading out his history of magic notes.

Zayn, as always, joins him after an hour or two when the sun’s begun to set and the Forbidden Forest has started to make sounds.

“Hey,” he says and lays down next to Harry.

“How’s Periwinkle?”

“Good, yeah. Look what she got us,” Zayn grins mischievously and pulls out a piece of parchment and three purple Snargaluff pod leaves. “Those hufflepuffs.”

++

Years one through four at Hogwarts were without a doubt some of the best years of Harry's life. He managed to develop of group of friends while keeping up with his schoolwork and his mental health and Macchiato's happiness and an intimate relationship with the ghoul on the third floor, which is why he wasn't expecting fifth year to kick his arse so hard.

“Your common room or mine?” Zayn asks, gripping the handrail of the staircase so he doesn’t fall off the edge as it lurches from one hallway to another. He reconsiders what he said for a second, then say, “Actually, yours. Louis brought Liam to mine.”

They both have a Potions test tomorrow - on one of the hardest set of life-restoring potions they’ve ever made - and they’re planning to pull an all-nighter to study. Zayn’s carrying his textbooks and nearly every Slytherin’s class notes, while Harry has three pumpkin pastries in his bag and half a bottle of iced butterbeer.

“We’re so tired, Zayn. You’re gonna regret it.” It’s one in the morning and the library’s just kicked them out for being too “noisy” and they definitely will regret it.

“Why?”

“You’ll remember why in a minute.”

When they reach the top of the staircase at the west side of the castle, Harry presses a heel to his palm and groans.

“Ready?”

Zayn furrows his eyebrows and opens his mouth to question Harry, but then seems to realize the situation as he glances at the eagle knocker on the otherwise knobless door.

“I'm teary-eyed but never cry. Silver-tongued, but never lie. Double-winged, but never fly. Air-cooled, but never dry. What am I?” It says when Harry knocks it against the wood.

“Oh, give me a break, fucking doorknob-less door,” Harry grumbles. "Who made you anyway?"

“Penguins,” Zayn suggests after a moment, flapping his hands by his shoulders like wings. “They can’t fly.” He smiles so Harry can tell he's joking.

Harry snorts. “Yeah, penguins are teary-eyed and silver-tongued. Okay, think, think, think,” he sighs. “It usually isn’t this hard. She senses an intruder.”

After a minute, Harry sits down, leaning against the door. “Sit down, Zayn. Help me do this.”

“Harry,” Zayn starts, sitting down. “I don’t know what has wings but doesn’t fly that’s not a penguin.”

“I don't either. That's the point,” Harry mumbles offhandedly.

"Okay, so it's a silver-like thing. And it can't fly. But it has wings and is teary-eyed."

"Basically. So think in riddle. What has wings besides a bird?"

"Er. A dragon. A hippogriff. That bloke in Greek mythology."

"Hermes."

“What?”

“Hermes, in Greek mythology, like you were saying. The messenger god. He had wings on his feet. But he’s not teary-eyed or silver-tongued. What’s wet but not wet and silver?”

"Liquid silver!" Zayn gasps.

"What?"

"There's this metal thing that we learned about in muggle studies when we talked about alchemy, uh. Fuck, what's it called?"

"What does that have to do with flying, though?" Harry asks, quizzically, then sits up straight. "Mercury! The metal and the Roman god! Hermes can fly but Mercury can't! That's it! Mercury!"

The door slides open with a whoosh as Zayn and Harry high five.

++

“Tell me the procedure for Chelidonium Miniscula,” Zayn says the next day as they enter the potions classroom.

“Yes, please, Harry,” Louis moans from behind his book. He turns to the page the procedure is supposed to be on and the book lets out a squeak from stiffness. Harry doubts he’s opened it before today. “Tell us.”

“Grind up three Doxy egg shells in a mortar and pestle, let it sit for five minutes while you mix diced eel eye, flitterbloom, honeywater, knotgrass, and pond slime together. Stir nine times to the left and seventeen times to the right - speed doesn’t matter as long as you remain consistent for each stroke. Pour the powder over after the stirring is done and set over a fire until it’s boiling, in which case it’ll have turned a light yellow. If it’s purple, it’s poisonous. If it’s green, it’s a mild tickling potion instead of the analgesic it's supposed to be. After it’s boiled, add a handful of wiggentree bark from the bottom half of the tree, not the top half. It should turn from light yellow to dark yellow, and then you’re done,” Harry recites in a monotone, directly from the book.

“Purpose?”

“Analgesic for unforgivables gone wrong.”

“How much should the drinker drink?”

Harry grins. “A miniscule amount. Three drops normally. Four for extreme pain.”

“Perfect. Now just remember it for the test, yeah?” Zayn says as he sits down on the stool next to Harry’s.

“Well, boys,” Louis announces from the seat next to Zayn’s as Slughorn begins to hand out the tests. “Give my belongings to Liam when I’m dead.”

++

“Where’s my favourite shade of purple?” Harry says to Zayn one day a few months later in early December, after the Christmas decorations have been set out but before the festive mood has spread.

“Sorry?” Zayn questions but Niall laughs. The three of them are sitting in the highest row of seats of the quidditch stadium, watching Louis and Liam mess around with the snitch twenty meters in the air.

“What was her name, Ni?” Harry asks quizzically, tightening his scarf around his neck. “Lilac, was it?”

Niall shakes his head. “Lavender, I think.”

“Wait, no! It was Plum, wasn’t it? Lovely girl.”

Niall snaps his fingers by his face. “It’s on the tip of my tongue, I just can’t….oh! Fuchsia!”

“Amethyst!” Harry combats, cackling with laughter.

“Violet—”

“Mauve—”

“Will you two dunglickers shut up,” Zayn finally says, although he looks seconds away from laughing. “We’re not even together anymore. We ended things.”

“You did?” Harry asks, taken aback suddenly.

"I did."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

Zayn shrugs. "Didn't come up. Plus, I mean. It wasn't a big deal, or anything. We just decided to stop seeing each other."

"Yeah, but. She was your girlfriend. You were properly in a relationship," Harry argues. "And then you ended it and didn't tell anyone."

"I'm telling you now."

Harry rolls his eyes but accepts it.

“So how long have you been single? Have you been on the pull? Are you with someone else yet?” Niall asks.

“Yeah,” Zayn says like it’s obvious.

“Yeah what?” Harry asks, alarmed now.

“Yeah I’m with someone else.”

Harry furrows his eyebrows together, trying to figure out why Zayn wouldn’t mention it before. “Well. What’s her name?”

Zayn looks up at him, face neutral. A small smile cracks his indifferent demeanor, though, when he says, “Magenta.”

Niall’s laughter fills the whole stadium.

-------

There's never been much to look forward to when starting sixth year. Studying for OWLs starts, a few more Hogsmeade privileges here and there, a half-hour added to lunch. The one thing that all sixth years bask in, however, is their potions curriculum. Harry's been looking forward to smelling an Amortentia since first year and he's so excited he doesn't know what to do. Truthfully, his potion so far is a slightly off shade of red instead of the soft pink it's supposed to be, but he hasn't added the heart of newt yet, so there's room for improvement. Louis's turned out a suspicious shade of orange that Slughorn himself can't explain, and Zayn's is a light purple color, which makes Harry's heart sink.

"Now, class," Slughorn calls from the front of the room. "When you add your last ingredient, the heart of newt, your potions will turn pink. When you lean in though, not only will they all smell differently, but they'll temporarily be the colours of the object you're smelling." He pauses, for suspense, Harry suspects. Slughorn smiles coyly, then finally says, "Alright then. Add your hearts."

Harry drops his in so quickly that a bit of potion splashes up and lands on his cheek, but he doesn't care as he leans in and practically inhales the pink liquid.

A warm vanilla latte is the first thing he smells as the potion turns a light shade of brown. He exhales contentedly and it changes swiftly to a sharp shade of orange, the scent of mangos wafting its way up around his face. The aroma changes again, this time so quickly that he doesn't even get enough time to enjoy the fresh mangos. This time it's the inside of his mum's car on the first day she bought it. He's always wanted a car, but hasn't needed one since he doesn't live in the city during the school year, so he waves more into his face as he remembers the day she bought it and he pressed his face into the beige leather and didn't move for an hour.

The last scent that comes makes the potion black, though it's unidentifiable. There's dill in there somewhere and mowed grass and a hint of chocolate and fried dough and something that Harry thinks might be fabric softener, but he can't tell.

"Mate, is coal the thing you love the most?" Louis asks from behind him, making a face at Harry’s Amortentia.

Harry fumbles, searching for words. “I don’t know. I think maybe it’s licorice.”

Louis scrunches up his face. “Do you even like licorice? Maybe you screwed up the potion.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Harry says. He hadn’t considered that and now that Louis’s mentioned it, it makes much more sense than loving a combination of grass and chocolate.

At the table next to his, Zayn’s sniffing his brownish potion, warm look on his face. “Mum’s naan,” he says when he catches Harry staring and Harry nearly lunges, dizzy from how much he misses the smell of Zayn's house.

“Can I smell? Do you think it works that way? Harry asks eagerly, trying to smell Zayn’s potion over his shoulder, but it backfires when he gets a whiff of Zayn’s hair instead and it makes his heart leap up to his throat because it smells like the few seconds his amortentia was that curious shade of black. Harry leaps back, a shake taking over his hands as he stares at the back of Zayn's neck and his heart falls down to his stomach as Zayn's Amortentia bubbles into the shade of Perrie's hair.

++

Neither Harry nor Zayn ever really got into sports. Harry, because he’s clumsy and wobbly and a much better supporter than player. Zayn, because he’d rather try to give himself a tattoo during a quidditch match than play, apparently.

“Are you sure about this?” Harry asks for the millionth time as Zayn presses the tattoo gun he borrowed from a shady seventh year Slytherin into the skin of his hand. It’s not Zayn’s first tattoo, or anything, but Harry can’t bring himself to trust his methodology.

“Nope,” he responds, but presses anyway. He squeezes his eyes shut and clenches his teeth for a second, then mumbles, “I don’t even know what I was thinking. Do the charm.”

“Which charm?” Harry teases, but when Zayn glares at him he says, “Sorry,” quietly and casts the numbing charm.

When Zayn’s done, after a few minutes of quiet huffs of air and squinting his eyes at the small patch of skin he was working on, he blows cool air onto his work and when Harry sees, his breath catches. He doesn’t say anything until Zayn presses the tip of his wand to it, mutters something under his breath, and finally shows it openly to Harry.

It’s a dove, fluttering its wings on Zayn’s skin.

Harry’s only seen moving tattoos a handful of times, most of them on Zayn and most bigger than this one, but he’s never felt as dumbstruck by them as he does now.

"What?" He asks weakly.

"We've been through this, Haz. You cast a movement charm and then a personality charm on it so it can be like a real live animal."

"No, I mean," Harry chuckles, short of breath. "Just. The dove. It's my patronus."

“It's my favourite animal,” Zayn says to him and smiles.

Harry can’t breathe for a second, suddenly so overwhelmed with emotion that he barely hears the roars of the crowd around him or the commentator announcing the score. When he looks over at Zayn he sees that he’s dipped his head down to look at his new tattoo, a small smile on his face and Harry wants to hug him so badly that he nearly goes crazy with it, so he does. They’re close enough anyway, already squished together on the bleachers during the first game of the season, so it's doesn't require much movement for Harry to wrap his arms around Zayn’s shoulders and press their cheeks together.

Zayn laughs, squirming under him. “Merlin, Harry! Sometimes you act like you don’t know you’re my best friend.”

Sometimes Harry forgets he even has best friends. It all feels so new to him still—the magic, the four boys who want to spend every waking moment with him, the castle with moving stairs and talking paintings that feels like home.

Gryffindor versus Slytherin quidditch matches are always awkward because it means when they’re over, either Liam won or Louis won. This time, Liam won—and by a lot. Louis is irritated, Niall is ecstatic, and Zayn doesn’t care. Harry is indifferent, obviously, which is an advantage he’s grateful for every quidditch season, so while Louis sulks off with his Slytherin friends, Harry can accept Niall’s offer to buy the rest of them drinks without seeming arrogant. He’s just happy for his friend, is all.

They go to the Three Broomsticks because they want classic butterbeer and no one makes it better than Madam Rosmerta, although prices have risen since the wizarding baby boom of 1998, when witches and wizards had a reason to have children - what with the safety of the entire wizarding world, finally. Liam doesn’t even change out of his uniform, he’s so happy. He orders two butterbeers for himself which makes Niall groan, “I’m not a millionaire, Liam”, but then Zayn says he and Harry can share one and as long as Niall still pays.

Zayn sits close to him in the booth, even though there’s a good foot of space he could be occupying. It’s because they’re sharing a drink, Harry knows, but it still makes his pulse quicken and he feels stupid when he realizes it's because of Zayn’s warmth against his side and the way the tips of their fingers are touching where their hands connect around the butterbeer mug. Zayn’s also taken it upon himself to wrap their ankles under the table, which: Okay.

He tries not to focus on it because Liam’s looks so happy and his face does something great when he’s happy - he turns into squirrel, or a meerkat, or one of those animals that looks perpetually happy even though it emits heinous noises when no one’s watching. Either way.

"Did you see the dive I did?" Liam says for the fourth time, sipping eagerly from his mug. "I was flying towards the group at a nearly perpendicular angle, and then I swooped at the last minute! That was amazing. The poor second year Slytherin who tried to race me for the snitch, though. Crashed into the ground, didn't he? Oh well."

Harry doesn't particularly remember watching that - probably because Zayn was impaling himself right next to him, but Niall nods enthusiastically, adding that if it weren't for McGonagall's quick thinking, that second year who tried to challenge Liam's swoop would be dead meat.

“Poor underclassmen,” Zayn sighs. “Don’t know why they keep trying to one us up. Especially you, Liam.” He winks. Harry tries his hardest not to laugh.

“I know! I know! I know,” Liam nods. “I didn’t even notice them, though. But the Slytherin beater—what’s his name? Snorvus Galeptico or what’s it. Anyway, he kept trying to test me—in front of the whole stadium! Trying to push me off my broom and distract me from the snitch and all that. And then finally when he came for me when he knew I saw the snitch I just swooped and showed him who he was messing with.”

“I saw that, mate,” Harry agrees. “Genius. Let him get close and then just dove and had him ramming into thin air like some common goblin.”

Liam claps his hands together and leaps up. “Exactly! Party’s starting in the Gryffindor common room right about now, right? Shall we, boys?”

Niall stands, clearly ready to down a bottle of firewhiskey. “I’m definitely in. Boys ?"

"I actually wanted to drop by Zonko's for a bit. Get something for Safaa; her birthday's coming up," Zayn says.

"Haz?" Niall asks.

"I'll go with Zayn. I don't want to leave him alone while everyone else is celebrating. But I'll show up later, probably."

Zayn smiles at him. "You don't have to," he says once Liam and Niall have left for their common room.

"Clearly," Harry agrees, rolling his eyes.

Zonko's was Harry's favourite shop in Hogsmeade in third year. It was everyone's - he's sure, until George Salamander, the hundred year old employee, left and was replaced by a sour eighteen year old boy with greasy hair and acne. He's avoided going in ever since, which is a shame because it's the absolute best wizarding shop in the world. Without a doubt.

He can't believe he didn't enter it for so long as he steps in, eyes glazing over at all the prank possibilities that Louis and Zayn can pull.

“What are you getting Saf?” He asks Zayn. He remembers in first and second year when Zayn couldn’t bear to go a week without writing back home, despite Ulysses’s ineptness. Zayn made him feel like the worst son ever, with all the gifts he sent home and the constant letters and the fondness in his eyes as he talks about them, while Harry can’t write home because no one in his family understands the wizarding purpose of owls, and Gemma would go crazy if he tried to pull a magical prank on her. He loves Zayn’s sisters, though. Not that he doesn’t love his own, but there’s a certain feeling of independence - of solitude - that comes from being the only wizard in a family of muggles. He’s only met Zayn’s family once or twice over the summer between third and fourth year when his parents had work and Doniya moved out and Waliyha and Safaa both had friends in the neighbourhood that they spent all their time with and Zayn was so bored alone in his house that he owled over an envelope of floo powder and insisted Harry come over and spend weeks at a time. He loves Zayn’s family, really. His mother’s got a warmth to her that Harry is so enthralled by that he spent hours at a time talking to her about self-washing cauldrons and Hogwarts politics, and his dad is easily the funniest man that Harry’s ever met, even if he’s uttered no more than two sentences to him. His sisters are great, too. The kind of great that he wouldn’t mind living with and writing to every week, which he does, through Zayn’s letters. He used to say, “Tell Don I say hi,” but hi would turn into three paragraphs and eventually Zayn got a self-writing quill so Harry could just vocalize everything he wanted to tell his sisters.

Zayn shrugs, pulling Harry out of his thoughts. “I want to pull a prank on her but she’s so sensitive. Don’t want to get her wand in a knot. Not that she has one yet. But did I tell you? I caught her trying to use mine over the summer while I was sleeping, the rascal. Got proper upset when nothing happened, too. ‘The fire’s lit but the cauldron’s empty,’ I told her, but she wouldn’t listen. Maybe I should get her a licorice wand if she wants a wand so badly.” He glances at Harry. “Or should I go for some nose-biting teacups? Is that too mean?”

Harry grins, thinking of Safaa yelping after having her nose snapped at by a teacup. “Both, obviously.”

Zayn bites his lip, turning his body so he’s not facing Harry entirely. “I only have enough for one, though,” he mumbles, almost too quietly for Harry to hear.

“I’ll get the teacups, then,” Harry offers.

“Harry.”

Harry shrugs, feigning indifference. “What?”

Zayn sighs indignantly. “I don’t need you buying my sister’s birthday gifts for me,” he grumbles, scowling.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m getting my friend a set of teacups for her birthday.” He turns and lifts a hand like he’s confused. “You have a sister?”

Zayn’s shoulders drop from what Harry hadn’t even noticed was a clenched position and he smiles slightly. “Thanks.”

“What was that?” Harry lifts a hand to his ear.

“I said to go eat Merlin’s pants, that’s what.”

Zayn knocks Harry’s foot with his once they’ve left Zonko’s with two bags. “Hey,” he smiles at him.

Harry can’t help but to return the smile, feeling the back of his neck warm at the attention Zayn’s giving him. “Hi.”

“Really, thanks,” Zayn says, open and honest. “Out of everyone I know, I dislike you the least.”

“No way!” Harry exclaims, feigning excitement and lifting his arms in a cheer. “Seriously? Can we stop for a mo? I need to go write this down. For memorabilia, you know. In case you change your mind,” he jokes and Zayn chuckles.

“I won’t change my mind.”

“I'm glad to hear that you don’t hate me. I was beginning to suspect, but I mean, this is great. Lost a knut and found a galleon, am I right?”

“Shut up,” Zayn laughs, smacking him with his Zonko’s bag. “You’re so heartless. I’m trying to be nice here. Where did your soul go?”

“It’s still in the potions classroom from that test we had last year. You know - the one that made you and me personally write to the Wizarding Cremation Services afterwards.”

“That’s where you left it? Mate, I thought it was in the astrology tower or summat, I’ve been looking around for it, but let’s go there then. Get it back.”

“Alright, if you insist,” Harry says, laughing again.

“I do.”

++

“Why did we actually come here?” Harry asks, sat down in a desk in the back of the empty potions classroom. He’s actually in the dungeons. In an empty potions classroom. With Zayn, who still has a butterbeer mustache that Harry wants to lick off, though he can’t seem to figure out why.

“I don’t know,” Zayn shrugs. “Why do we take our jokes so far?”

“I don’t know. Maybe this is why our friends won’t hang out with us.”

Zayn laughs, suddenly, dropping his head on the desk and shaking his shoulders. “You’re so right,” he says.

“I always am,” Harry points out. Then, “Do you think Slughorn keeps any of his...what’d he call them that one time? Herbal supplements? D’you think he keeps any of them here?”

“Probably not, he’s smarter than that. Drunk, lazy, careless. But smart enough to not let sixth years use his drugs.”

“Good thing we have each other then, right?”

Zayn groans. “Ugh. When’d you become such a sap?”

“Hey! I’m keeping your critique in mind and trying to be nicer.”

“Go back to being heartless, please. I like that better.”

“You like every version of me,” Harry says confidently and Zayn doesn't respond. When Harry looks over at him, though, he finds that Zayn’s smiling at the floor.

++

Despite his five and a half years of attending Hogwarts, Harry still doesn’t know where it’s located. He knows there’s a giant lake by it and great fields and plenty of room for flying, but he can’t seem to figure out where in the United Kingdom they are so that temperatures go into the negatives during December. He wishes he could cast a heating charm on the whole of wherever the fuck he is. On the whole castle, is maybe more practical. Or at least the greenhouse, to say the very least.

“I’m here!” Harry makes out from underneath his four scarves and shoots Zayn a death glare for making him leave the warmth of the castle on the coldest day of winter. “I’m here, sorry. Did you freeze?”

“My nose did, Jesus.” Zayn pulls the sleeves of his robes down to cover the tips of his fingers, which Harry fears might have turned blue if he'd shown up any later.

“Do you have it?” Zayn asks.

“No, I left it in my dorm,” Harry responds, looking apologetic.

Zayn gapes at him. “You’re shitting me. Harry, I have care of magical creatures next.”

“Kidding, kidding,” Harry says and pulls a scroll of parchment out from under his robes. “Here’s my masterpiece. Treat it with care. It took me all of fifteen minutes last night. Fifteen minutes that you were clearly too busy to spare.”

“I fell asleep,” Zayn mumbles. “And you’re sure the handwriting isn’t too distinct?”

“He’s not actually gonna pick it up, he’ll just glance. If he does decide to pick it up, though, cast a confundus and run.”

Zayn laughs and a cloud of steam appears in front of his face like he’s exhaling smoke. “Will do. You’re a lifesaver.”

“I know.” Harry hands him the roll of parchment and watches Zayn make his way to the exit. “Hurry, you’ll be late!” He calls and Zayn turns his head to give him a challenging smirk. His smile softens, though, and he takes a few steps back towards Harry, grabbing his sleeve and leaning in to press a quick kiss to his jaw.

“Thanks again. You know I’d be dead without you and your dumb Ravenclaw productivity habits.”

Harry fumbles with the tips of his sleeves and hopes his cheeks were already pink from the cold. “Yeah, I know.”

Zayn sends him one more smile before he’s out the door and half-jogging across the courtyard to get to Hagrid’s hut. Harry shakes his head, willing away his smile and when he presses his cold fingers to the spot just under his jaw that Zayn’s lips touched, he finds that it’s warm.

++

“You’re joking,” Liam gapes.

“Oh no,” Louis smirks, rubbing his hands together.

“I want to ride it,” Niall whispers theatrically.

Zayn glances at Harry, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb. “Is this our cue to evacuate the premises?”

“I’m right behind you,” Harry nods, even though they stay rooted in their spots, gaping at the creature in front of them.

“I’ve named her Honeydew, even though she’s white, because of her golden eyes. She’s pretty, right?”

“Louis,” Harry says slowly. “Have you touched her?”

“Clearly I have. I pet her all the time. I’m trying to get her to trust me enough to let me ride her.”

“I want to ride her.” Niall announces. “I’m going to ride her by the end of the day.”

“Merlin’s beard,” Harry whispers. “This is all so illegal. If we get caught we’ll definitely be expelled.”

“You love it, Ravenclaw,” Louis accuses.

Harry nods, resigned. “I do.”

Louis claps his hands together and says, “Well then!” and it starts.

Niall rides her first, even though it infuriates Louis because he’s not the one that found and befriended her. Liam nearly bites his tongue off shouting at them to be careful, hands outstretched like he’s ready to lunge and save someone’s life. Zayn stares at Honeydew with fascination, but doesn’t make any move to touch or disturb her, and Harry can’t even make eye contact with her.

Harry's trying his hardest to focus on the actual, real life unicorn in front of them as opposed to Zayn's warm dill-chocolate-fried dough smell. He doesn't know what happened but recently all he can think about is Zayn and his sweet smell and the way his lips curve when he laughs and the look on his face when he makes a potion correctly and how much Harry wants to kiss his soft cheeks and pink lips.

“I feel so much respect for them. Unicorns are such ethereal creatures, I feel like I’m offending her by looking at her,” he says instead as they sit against the trunk of a tree, bundled together so they don’t freeze.

Zayn nods in agreement. “I wish I could take a picture and send it home, but we so can’t leave any evidence of this day.”

Harry exhales, hoping for it to sound like a sympathetic sigh but actually letting out a violent shiver. Zayn turns his head. “You alright?”

“I’m a bit cold. Don’t know why,” Harry jokes dryly.

“Give me your hands.”

Harry snorts. “Buy me dinner first.”

“I’ll buy you dinner later, now give me your hands before they freeze.”

Harry resigns and offers Zayn his hands, sighing when Zayn engulfs them with his own warm ones. He feels a million times warmer already, letting his head drop onto Zayn’s shoulder. His face is so numb that he almost doesn’t believe it when he thinks he feels Zayn kiss his cheek, but when it tingles in the wake of his lips, he’s certain.

++

Later, when they reach the knobless door of the Ravenclaw common room after sprinting to catch up to the Ravenclaws before who figured out the riddle, Zayn pulls on the sleeve of Harry’s robe, interrupting Harry from finishing his story about how a first year apparently messed up the levitating charm so badly that he has hair growing from the back of his neck now.

“Hm?”

“Can you stop talking about neck hair? You’re ruining the mood,” Zayn sighs.

“What mood?”

“The mood of clean, hygienic things with no neck hair,” Zayn says and Harry laughs.

“Sorry, that was inconsiderate of me," Harry teases, although he doesn't understand Zayn's concern. "Are you coming in?”

“Hm?”

“Coming into the common room. The door’s gonna close in a few seconds and then if you want to tell me anything you’ll have to figure out the riddle on your own.”

“You fancy sharing a bed?” Zayn asks and Harry’s sure he blushes so visibly that a nearby painting laughs at him.

“Yeah, of course,” he says instead of making a joke. “We’ve done it before.”

“If you’re talking about second and third year, Haz, we were significantly smaller then.”

“Come on, don’t you want to sleep with me?” Harry jokes, revelling in the way Zayn’s cheeks pinken.

Once they’ve made their way up to the dorms and they’ve changed into Harry’s pajamas, Harry picks up Zayn's hand and inspects the area where he tattooed the dove onto his hand, but all he sees is smooth skin.

"Where's Linda?"

“What—” Zayn tries.

"Your dove. Linda."

Zayn looks seriously at him for a moment and then cracks up, only quieting when Harry points to the other sleeping boys near them. "Absolutely not, Harry. Linda? No."

"How about Jane?" Harry tries.

"Maybe Jane I can deal with."

"Alright, alright," Harry agrees. "Where's Jane?"

"Dunno, to be honest. Last I saw her she was on my shoulder, but," he rolls his sleeve up all the way and then upon realizing she's not there, takes off his entire shirt. "Let's check everywhere. She misses you."

Harry fights the urge to burst into tears at the sight of Zayn's bare chest and his kind words and nods dumbly instead, keeping his hands by his side.

"Not on my front," Zayn mumbles. "Is she on my back?" He turns around and dips his head down so Harry can check his neck too. Sure enough, she's up by Zayn's hair on the right side of his neck.

"Found her," Harry whispers and scoots up so his chest is nearly touching Zayn's back to look at her from up close.

"It's alright, people don’t scare her."

Harry nods and scratches her head with his pointer finger. She startles and flies around to the front of Zayn's neck, on his Adam's Apple.

"Be gentle," Zayn tells him. Harry nods again, scooting up closer so he can peer around over Zayn's shoulder at the front of his neck. His chest is pressed flush to Zayn's back now and Zayn sighs, letting his head fall back onto Harry's left shoulder. It makes Harry's breath catch and he takes a few seconds to calm down before locating Jane and brushing the top of her head softly with the tip of her finger.

"That's it," Zayn murmurs. "She likes that."

Harry keeps doing it, running his finger up and down Zayn’s neck even when Zayn's eyes close and his skin erupts in goose pimples and Harry wants to sprint to the nearest window and jump out into fresh air to escape this suffocating atmosphere. His entire face feels hot and he's sure his heart is hammering so hard that Zayn can feel it through his shirt.

Zayn cracks open one eye and smiles slightly. "She likes kisses too, you know?"

Harry makes a "huh," sound in the back of his throat, cheeks warming even more at Zayn's flirtations. "I didn't know that."

"Well now you do. The curious Ravenclaw, right?"

Harry huffs out a laugh and leans in, pressing a chaste kiss to Zayn's neck where the head of the dove is.

"Her tail, too," Zayn says softly and Harry flushes before moving a few centimetres and kissing there too.

"Zayn," Harry suddenly whispers, feeling as though he's gulped down a bucket of Felix Felices. "My Amortentia smells like you."

Zayn doesn't move. "That's good," he says. Harry doesn't know what he expected to happen, but this isn't it. "I've liked you since fourth year, probably," he adds quietly and Harry sees his cheeks pinken where he's still lying on Harry's shoulder.

"What?" Harry asks, dumbstruck.

"I've been waiting to kiss you. I was going to at the entrance but you were talking about neck hair and I thought maybe you didn't want me to. So I was gonna in a few seconds," Zayn says offhandedly. "But now we're talking."

"You like me?" Harry very acutely feels like his ears are about to fall off. He feels like maybe he did something wrong today in potions while attempting his Baneberry Potion, because surely he can't be hearing things right.

Zayn finally opens his eyes. "Harry, it's been as obvious as ever - even Liam teases me about it. I'm with you all day, I kiss your face all the time. I held your hand the other day, for Merlin's sake. You know I got this tattoo for you, right?"

"You like me?" Harry asks again, still trying to process. He feels like laughing and crying at the same time. He also wants to simultaneously punch Zayn in the face and kiss him.

"Yes," Zayn says softly. "I like you. I want you. I have for a while now. And I know I look calm but, Merlin," he huffs out a laugh and presses his hand to his own chest, sighing. He removes his hand and beckons for Harry to do the same and when he does, he feels Zayn's heart beating so quickly that he's sure he turns a thousand shades redder.

"I didn't - I don't know. I thought maybe you had friendly intentions. Your Amortentia turned purple, I thought you stilled like Perrie."

"Purple like Perrie's hair?"

Harry nods.

"How about purple like the lavender lollies you used to buy me to tease me with?"

Harry's insides curl in on themselves and his heart bounces from rib to rib and his hair stands up straight and he's sure he's hovering a metre off the ground.

"Okay, that makes sense," he admits, smiling.

"It does, doesn't it?" Zayn teases, sitting up and turning around on the blue covers. “I’m gonna kiss you now, if that’s alright,” he says quietly, leaning in. "This means I like you."

Harry blushes furiously at the words, and even more so when Zayn cups his cheek and presses their lips together.

++

Madam Rosmerta notices before any of their friends do, which isn't all that surprising considering how much they love keeping it a secret. They can't seem to be secretive at the Three Broomsticks, however, the day before Christmas Eve as they walk in holding hands.

Harry can't seem to stop smiling and Zayn can't stop kissing him, first saying, "Wait, there's a bit of snow on your nose," and leaning in to brush it off with his gloved pinky finger before kissing him, then later he points out that Harry's got a butterbeer moustache and kisses it right off.

"Well look at you two, all loved up," Madam Rosmerta says cheerfully when she picks up their empty mugs. "We've all been waiting ages."

"Really?" Zayn smiles and stands, wrapping his scarf around his neck. "Sorry it took us so long. I’d like to think it won't happen again, but you never know with this one," he motions to Harry, who blushes against his will.

"It'd better not," she warns, flipping her grey hair and winking before walking off to another table.

Harry takes Zayn's hand as they walk to the front. "Wonder how long everyone's been waiting," he says and Zayn shrugs.

"Since day one, obviously."

"When we were eleven?" Harry laughs.

"Before that. Maybe there's a prophecy or something. Good thing you wanted to buy a cat, yeah?" He says and grins before pushing the door open and leading them out into the snow, then into the castle, then into the Slytherin common room so he can show Harry just how glad he is he wanted to buy a cat that day.

-------

Harry retreats to the library after the welcoming dinner on his first day back at Hogwarts for seventh year. He can’t seem to believe it’s his last year, and the thought that he’s never going to see the library again after this fills him with so much despondence that he wants to lock the doors behind him and set up a bed and a chest of drawers behind a shelf so he never has to leave.

“Harry!” Someone - Zayn - calls from behind him and he turns around. “Why’d you leave so quickly?”

“Did I? I didn’t notice. I just want to spend all my remaining time at this school here; I love it so much.”

“All of your time?” Zayn smiles and leans in to kiss Harry's cheek. “Macchiato will never forgive you.”

“You learnt his name! It’s about time.”

Zayn nudges his cheek with his nose. “Course I learnt his name, you broomhead. I've been spending the past six years trying to win his approval."

“So did you want to tell me something?” Harry asks, trying to quell his smile.

“Did I?” Zayn asks, confused.

“You sounded urgent.”

“I’m not. Just wanted to spend time with you. Our last year, and all that. Has me scared.”

“Tell me about it.”

Zayn stops smiling. “I am telling you about it. That’s—that’s what I was—”

“God, I hate you pureblood halfwits. Can’t say one muggle idiom but I have to listen to you and Liam comparing me to a talking rat’s tail and the bottom of a cauldron and the back hairs of a screaming virgin. Christ.”

"On second thought, I do remember what I wanted to tell you," Zayn says with a smirk.

"What is it?"

Zayn leans in, brushing their noses together until their lips just barely touch and Harry feels tingles all up and down his spine. His face feels hotter that it has all summer as he curls his fingers into Zayn's tie to bring them closer together. Zayn says, "Meet in the greenhouse in an hour? I've got a funny story to tell you about neck hair." He winks and pushes himself backwards out of Harry's proximity and out of the library, leaving Harry confused, half hard, and irritated all at once.

++

The weather is still nice - not too cold and not too hot, so Harry doesn't mind going to the greenhouse. Zayn's not there yet so he kneels down and talks patiently to a shrivelfig like he's known it all his life.

"How's your friend doing?" Zayn asks from behind him after a minute and Harry startles at his voice, standing when he sees him.

"He's good. Says he missed me over the summer."

"Did he?" Zayn smiles and Harry nods as Zayn walks over to where he's standing. "That makes one of him, then. I was so relieved to finally be free of you all summer."

Harry laughs, grabbing Zayn by the flaps of his robe and pulling him in. He kisses his neck and says, "Is that so?"

"Yep. Almost didn't get on the train cause I didn't want to see you."

"Didn't want to see me, hey?" Harry asks and motions down to where Zayn's excitement is showing through his uniform trousers.

"Well," Zayn admits, no doubt thinking about their first time in that dingy nook in the Slytherin common room last year when he smiles and grabs Harry's face in both hands. "Maybe I missed you a bit," he says and kisses him.

Harry laughs into the kiss, still gripping Zayn's robes when they part.

"What?" Zayn whines, brushing their noses together.

"Just. Let's go inside. I don't much fancy sucking you off next to a shrieking mandrake."

Zayn grins and kisses the corner of Harry's lips once more. "Might've missed you a lot."