Chapter Text
“I am going to fail,” Harry moaned, flopping down onto the Gryffindor common room sofa. He’d just taken his last exam, Arithmancy, and was currently having a mental breakdown over how the question, ‘Deconstruct Bridget Wenlock’s theories of the number 7 – was 6 right to be afraid?’ seemed far too easy – ergo, he must have interpreted the question wrong, and had undoubtedly failed.
“Hmm,” Eleanor hummed from the floor, where she was absentmindedly drawing runes on the stone floor with her wand – her Ancient Runes exam had been that morning, but she’d once told Harry that it took a lot longer to get out of the headspace required to think in Runic.
“They’ll probably confiscate my wand. Do they do that, do you think? I’d probably be a danger to society, so they’re not going to let me out into the magical community – oh God, what if I end up working in a fast food place-”
“Like that one we went to over Christmas?” Eleanor said slowly, her accent more musical and whimsical than it usually was. “No shame in that.”
Harry leaned his head against the arm of the sofa, staring up at the common room ceiling. The truth was that he had no idea what he was going to do with his life after Hogwarts, whether he passed or not.
“Pack your bags, kids, we’re going on an adventure!” Harry turned around blearily; Eleanor said something distractedly in Runic.
“Niall, how did you even get in here?” Harry asked, staring up at Niall, who was grinning and holding a rucksack.
“Hufflepuffs have their resources,” he said vaguely. “Get up, both of you, the Defence Against the Dark Arts exam’s just about to finish, so I’ll need you on side to kidnap the others so we can do something fun before graduation!”
“Niall,” Eleanor said. “I can barely speak English, I cannot marshal the troupes.”
“Listen, you listless idiots,” Niall said seriously. “In five days we are going to graduate – my family is going back to Ireland, Zayn, Danielle and Liam are going on that Grand Tour, Louis’s going to be spending most of his time looking after his little sisters while his parents get their names cleared, and who knows what you two are up to. The point is there’s no way of knowing when we’ll all get to see each other again, so we need to do something exciting before we all end up old and probably working at the Ministry.”
“What did you have in mind?” Harry said, feeling a bit less like the world was going to end.
“We go to Hogsmeade and get totally and utterly smashed,” Niall said proudly, nodding.
“Madame Rosmerta is not going to let us have Firewhiskey, even if we are of age,” Eleanor said; Niall jiggled his rucksack ever so slightly, making it clink tellingly. Eleanor sat up and grinned wickedly. “You didn’t.”
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” Niall said primly. “I just have loads and loads of vials of Salamander blood from my Potions exam. Or at least, that’s what it’ll look like if anyone checks.”
“Seven years of Charms class obviously paid off for you,” Harry said wryly, pulling off his cloak. “Come on then, let’s go get the others.”
***
By mutual agreement, they didn’t inform Liam and Danielle of their plan until they were actually at Hogsmeade, but they needn’t have bothered with the secrecy.
“It’s been a long, difficult seven years,” Danielle said, opening the door to the Three Broomsticks and gesturing for everyone to enter. “I think we can afford to let our hair down for the night. Just one question before I give myself up to Niall’s questionable alcohol choices – how are we going to get home?”
“Already thought of,” Niall said. “My parents own a cottage just outside Hogsmeade that they used to stay in whenever they got called up to the school for me or me brother, so we can just stay there and then come back to Hogwarts tomorrow.” Danielle didn’t look best pleased by this plan, but as it was obviously better than attempting to make their way back to their respective dormitories late at night, she let it go.
“You look tired,” Harry said quietly to Louis, nudging him in the side. “You all right?”
“Good old fashioned exam cramming last night, don’t worry,” Louis said, yawning. “Would have an early night, but I don’t think Niall’d ever forgive me.”
However, it soon became apparent that not even alcohol was going to be enough to keep Louis awake – they hadn’t even been at the Three Broomsticks for half an hour before Louis was drooping on Harry’s shoulder, barely keeping his eyes awake.
“Take him home already,” Eleanor said exasperatedly, waving a hand at them both. “We can always come out again, he’s no fun when he’s drooling on you.”
“Noo,” Louis whined as Harry helped him to his feet. “’S not even six yet.”
“An early night’ll do you the world of good,” Danielle said, smiling at them both. “In fact, I hate to break up the party, but I might head back, too, that exam took a lot out of me.”
“Well, I’m staying,” Eleanor said firmly, downing not only her own drink, but Harry’s and Danielle’s too, in quick succession. “I want to get drunk and forget Runic for the rest of my life.”
“Here here!” Niall cheered, clinking his glass against hers. Liam and Zayn also decided to remain at the pub, so it was just Harry, Louis and Danielle heading back to Hogwarts, Harry and Danielle supporting an almost asleep Louis between them.
“So, Harry, what’s your plan?” Danielle asked. “You know, the offer to join us on our Grand Tour still stands?”
“Unless Mum sends an owl saying that we’ve miraculously won the lottery, that isn’t going to happen – and no, you’re not all paying for me to come along with you.” Because that had been tentatively mentioned, and Harry had been so mortified that he hadn’t spoken to them for days. Either he would pay his own way around the world, or he just wouldn’t go at all, there wasn’t an in between. “And I don’t know. I might look into volunteering at the Horan’s Quidditch Camp over the summer?”
“So Louis hasn’t...?” She shook her head. “Never mind.”
“No, you can’t do that, you can’t just say things like that,” Harry said indignantly.
“It’s up to Louis to get his act in gear,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I thought he’d have mentioned something by now, especially since it’s five days until we graduate.”
Despite Harry’s incessant protesting, even going so far as to follow Danielle to the Head dormitories, she refused to reveal what Louis had told her.
“He’ll tell you in his own time,” she said, looking at Louis incredulously, who just grinned back sleepily. “Good night, boys.”
“Come on then, Lou, let’s get you to bed.” Louis shook his head.
“Your dorm.”
“I – okay, fine.” They walked in silence for a bit.
Eventually, Louis piped up, “Was gonna tell you tonight. Or, ask you. It’s a question, so I was gonna ask you.” He smacked his lips and yawned. “Tell you later, if I don’t chicken out.”
***
Harry was in his Defence Against the Dark Arts exam, but, stupidly, he’d forgotten his quill. He turned to the person behind him to ask for a quill, but instead said
“Would you like fries with that?”
“Harry? What in Merlin’s name are you on about?” Harry blinked, confused. “You just started shouting in your sleep, mate, you all right?”
“Yeah, weird dream,” Harry said, shaking his head. “Sorry, did I wake you up?”
“Haz,” Louis said amusedly. “It’s morning, I’ve been awake for ages.”
“Why didn’t you-”
“You looked peaceful,” Louis said, shrugging unapologetically.
“You were watching me sleep.” It wasn’t a question – again, Louis shrugged nonchalantly, but his slight blush belied his indifference. “Okay, so, what were you going to ask me?”
“Was hoping you’d forgotten that, actually.” Louis scratched the back of his neck. “Um. So, we’ve been dating for quite a bit now, and I just realised you’ve never met my sisters properly? I mean, you’ve met Lottie, but that doesn’t really count, you didn’t know she was my sister until a few months ago. Actually, that wasn’t what I wanted to ask you at all, but do you want to stay at mine for a few days over the summer?” Harry nodded, but Louis didn’t give him time to say anything in response, ploughing on with his nervous monologue. “In August I’m moving down to London for an internship at the Ministry.”
“Lou, that’s great-”
“I was thinking, if you figure out what you want to do and it’s in London, maybe we could... Live together, or something. I don’t know, it’s a really dumb idea-” Harry dropped a kiss onto the corner of Louis’s mouth.
“Sounds fantastic.”
Epilogue
“Niall, seriously, I’m just a reserve, you really don’t need to-”
“Haz,” Niall said, glaring at Harry through the fire. “It’s your first game – even if you were waiting on the sidelines with oranges like a proper Quidditch mum, I’d still be coming down to cheer you on. And who knows, maybe the Keeper will get a Bludger to the face and have to leave so you can have your moment to shine?”
“That’s a terrible thing to say,” Harry said, grinning.
By an extreme stroke of luck, the manager of the English Quidditch team had gone scouting to the Horan’s Quidditch Camp over the summer Harry had volunteered there and, in an even greater stroke of luck than the previous, had witnessed Harry actually getting to fly. He’d been signed on as a reserve for the national team, giving him a reason to move down to London with Louis.
“I mean, it’s no Irish Quidditch team taking you on,” Niall had said when Harry had told him. “But maybe they’ll take you on eventually.”
And, in another stroke of luck ("It's not luck," Danielle would say irritably. "You worked hard."), Harry had passed all of his NEWTs, so if Quidditch didn't work out, he'd be able to go into another line of work - the future, for now, was limitless. And so, seven months after graduating Hogwarts, the English team were set to play a friendly against Uganda. Harry had been the receiver of two Floo calls (Niall and Eleanor) and one late night knock on the door (Liam, Zayn, and Danielle, back early from their tour), all of whom had expressed their intentions of being at his match.
And so what if Louis had been called in to work last minute? He was the only one of them with an actual job (Harry didn’t count professional Quidditch as a job, it was far too fun for that), and he couldn’t just tell his employer that he needed to watch his boyfriend sit as a reserve for England.
“It still sucks,” Harry moaned – his friends just clucked their tongues sympathetically and patted his head. Literally, they each took a turn patting his head until he felt like a well loved rabbit.
“You know he’d be there if he could,” Danielle said, smiling beatifically – she’d cut her hair slightly shorter after a cursed mummy in Egypt had bitten a chunk of it out.
“We’ll cheer extra loudly every time the English Keeper looks a bit tired,” Zayn said, grinning.
“You’re all terrible.” A face popped up in their fireplace – Harry glanced over.
“Styles,” Cowell said, glancing over. “Grimshaw’s gone sick.” Harry whipped his head round to his friends, eyes wide – they all shook their heads frantically. “Up for a friendly?”
“Yes. Yes! God, yes!” Cowell smiled fondly at the ‘Muggleism’.
“See you on the pitch.”
***
“I can’t do this,” Harry thought, staring down at his shin guards in the hopes that they would reveal the answers.
They did not.
He’d always loved playing Quidditch and yes, he’d always get a little nervous before playing, but that was when he was just the Keeper for the Gryffindor team – now he was playing internationally.
“You know, for the youngest national team player since Krum, you could stand to look a little more cheerful.”
Harry looked up quickly – Louis was standing at the changing room door, holding a bouquet of flowers and grinning sheepishly at Harry’s teammates, who were smirking at him.
“I thought you had-”
“Work?” Louis’s grin turned proud, like when he’d pulled off a successful prank. “The thing about working for your dad is that sometimes he’s willing to be a little lenient, especially for the guy that effectively kept him and his wife out of Azkaban.” Louis shrugged. “I just neglected to tell you. Told everyone else, though.”
“Everyone else. Okay, shrimp, you have ten minutes before we’ll have no choice but to come looking for you,” Teasdale, their team captain, said, ruffling Louis’s hair as she led the team outside.
“Ten minutes, obviously something going wrong there if she thinks it can be done properly in ten minutes,” Louis grumbled.
“Nine minutes!” Teasdale called through – Louis swore.
“Nine minutes for what?” Harry asked worriedly, wincing.
“Well, I figured you’d probably be nervous, first big game and everything,” Louis said, sounding pretty nervous himself. “So I thought I’d take your mind off it.”
“Take my mind off – oh,” Harry said, cottoning on when Louis raised his eyebrows significantly. “And how were you, uh, going to-” Louis drew closer, closing Harry into the corner, his back hitting the wall; Louis dropped to his knees, grinning. “Oh my God.”
“Mmm, talk Muggle to me, baby,” Louis quipped, eyeing Harry’s crotch speculatively. They’d done blowjobs before, multiple (multiple) times, but never somewhere quite so public, and never before Harry needed to go out and play in front of thousands. “You’re already half hard.”
“You would be too if I just dropped to my knees in front of you at your work place,” Harry said defensively, resisting the urge to cover his crotch with his hands.
“Actually, it’d probably shrivel in terror, my desk is right next to Dad’s.”
“Let’s not talk about your dad while you’re planning on sucking my dick.” Louis looked up at Harry through his eyelashes, grinning wickedly, before cupping Harry’s balls torturously slowly. “Fuck.”
The thing about Quidditch pants, and wizarding clothing in general, was that they were not designed to be removed easily – that was what wands were for, after all. After a tense moment where Louis’s wand was dangerously close to Harry’s dick, they finally managed to remove Harry’s trousers and pants.
Louis seemed to be pulling all the tricks to get Harry to cum as quickly as possible – tracing the veins with his tongue, kitten licks at the head and then, with absolutely no warning (and in a move that Harry couldn’t help imagining Louis practicing) taking Harry deep into his mouth and humming. Harry kept up a litany of cursing, hands nestled deep in Louis’s hair.
He lasted a horrendously embarrassing four minutes under Louis’s incessant attention.
“Better?” Louis said after he’d cleaned Harry off and magicked his pants back on for him.
“Huh?”
“Your match? Do you feel better?”
“To be honest I think I’ve forgotten everything but my orgasm,” Harry said weakly. Match? What match?
***
“I’ve never seen you play so fluidly,” Cowell said, impressed, prompting smirks and snickers from the rest of the team.
“I’m sure fluids had something to do with it,” Atkin muttered down Harry’s ear, and it was only through seven years of similar remarks from Eleanor and Aiden that Harry managed not to blush horrendously.
They hadn’t won the match, the seeker from Uganda had been too good for them to have a hope of winning, but Harry was pleased with his own performance – something further validated by his friends barging into the changing rooms once they were sure the rest of the team had gone.
“If they don’t sign you on next season, I’m going to drop hints at the next Ireland game I go to, get you signed by a team that appreciates talent,” Niall said, his accent more pronounced, as it got after every England game Niall went to see.
“You were amazing, Harry,” Danielle said proudly, hugging him.
“Let’s be honest, it was all my hard work training him,” Eleanor said with a grin.
“We’re going out to celebrate, you-”
“He will be with you in several hours,” Louis interrupted, lacing his hand within Harry’s. “He owes me.”
“...Gross,” Zayn said, wrinkling his nose. “Don’t want to know.” Liam nodded emphatically.