Chapter Text
Orange hues of a setting sun began to peek through the high windows. They angled downwards painting gritty tiles of the institute’s floor a range of colors and shades.
The chairs lining the long hallway were empty, all except for one nearest the exit; it’s only companion a young boy. The child’s legs swung beneath himself as he wasn’t quite tall enough yet to touch the ground with his petite shoed feet. He tucked his hands away under jean covered thighs.
The boy wore a small backpack and a ratty blue jacket easily hiding thin arms. The sun flicking off his brown curled hair sparkled over those vacant green eyes.
Clenching small fists together, his stomach began growling. He was used to the feeling though, ignoring it as a nearby door opened with a click, the switch of the light inside flipping off. The blonde man who exited, mind in his own thoughts, started locking the room with a deafening snap; humming a bit of a tune before jingling the keys in his palm.
He turned around, stilling. Eyes settled on the child before him, who he was surprised had been there the whole time. “…Harry?” The child turned at the calling of his name, stilling his legs movement. Fidgeting to turn himself completely towards the older gentleman, he bit at the inside of his cheek. “What’re you still doing here?”
No response fell from the brunet’s lips.
The man, in his worn black coat and questioning gaze leant over to meet Harry’s eye level. A thick Irish accent filled the empty hall as he spoke, “…Are you waiting for your parents?”
With an indirect nod, the adult grew grim. Allowing a quick glance to his watch he noted it was close to seven o’clock. Concern grew within him; class had let out four hours prior.
“Alright bud, umm—I guess, I’ll take you home.” He tried giving a reassuring grin, standing; waiting for the small boy to push himself off the much larger chair.
Holding a hand out for Harry, the youth tentatively took it, walking at a pace slightly behind the man’s much larger steps. The teacher’s hand was large and warm, contrary to the cold state Harry’s had been in previously, the hallway housing a mild draft.
Glancing at the name tag of his favorite teacher, Harry read, ‘Mr. Niall Horan.’ At least that’s what he hoped it said; he was still working on improving his reading skills. After all, he had only started learning to write the preceding semester.
The blonde, looking down, grinned at him, baring teeth and all; a small uncertain smile began fighting its way onto Harry’s own lips. He turned forward though, watching as they reached the exit, leaving claustrophobic rooms and thick air behind.
Hopping in Niall’s rusty buggy, he began fighting with the old seat belt, trying to tighten it around himself. Niall helped after a few moments, quickly turning the car on to let it warm itself.
Chucking his briefcase in the backseat, he grabbed a bag of crisps from the many bags littering the floor, tossing one to Harry. Taking another for himself he turned towards the steering wheel, finally putting the car in drive.
Following twists and turns in the road Niall hummed to the tunes falling from the radio. This was not his first time driving the boy home.
Moving to help open the broken passenger side door, he let Harry out, who immediately reached for his hand like a lifeline. Niall looked ahead at the paint peeling from the sides of the one story in front of them. Weeds covered dying grass; hiding it from the world. Shutters hung off at odd angles, blinds blocking light from entering the home. The two walked up to the dirt stained door.
A crisp piece of paper was taped to it, a bold statement at the top.
Harry didn’t know what the words meant or if he had even read them correctly, but looking up at his teacher, he could see a deep frown encompassing the older man’s expression.
He looked back to the note, sounding out the letters in his mind. ‘Fore-clo-sure No-tice.’
Niall observed the boy out of the corner of his eye; his hand seeming so feeble in his own grasp. He felt almost cruel for bringing Harry there.
Turning back towards the door, knocking a few times, a quiet covered the two.
Niall wasn’t surprised when no one came to open it.
He glanced back at Harry whose eyes were now set forward, staring seemly at nothing. He felt a clenching in his heart, how could people be so cruel?
As for Harry, there was no noticeable expression on his face, no sadness, anger, not even confusion; as if he had been expecting this very thing to happen.
Niall didn’t want to ask what he did next. “Are your parents… not here?”
Taking Harry a few moments, the boy gave a shallow shrug.
“It’s cold. Let’s go sit in the car.” And that’s what they did as Niall made a few quick calls on his mobile phone, leaving Harry in the stuffy interior. The boy, scrunching into himself, saw the way Niall’s breath came out in puffs of air in the coldness outside.
Zipping his jacket higher, tucking his chin into it, he played with his index fingers, clasping two tiny hands together. To an onlooker, the gesture would look like a silent prayer.
Niall stuck his head back in the car flipping his cheap mobile into the cup holder before taking a deep breath and looking to Harry. He hid sympathetic eyes, concealing anger with a faux-smile, one he hoped the boy couldn’t see through. “Well Harry… How would you like to stay at my house?” The curly haired child turned to face him, his eyes widening in what Niall hoped was excitement.
“Like a sleepover. We can watch movies and eat candy all night long!” He added in, watching Harry start to form a small smile before he began nodding to Niall’s suggestions. “Well, I suppose not all night long though. We do have school tomorrow.” He considered looking over to Harry’s assenting head nods. “And I just got these new chocolate candies. I hear they’re really good.” The thought itself was making his own grin grow.
Revving the engine, slowly backing out of the decrepit driveway, he continued his musings, “…But, does that sound okay?” He made sure to meet eyes with the boy before turning his gaze back on the road with a resolute nod, determination set in his jaw.
Harry nodded, smiling gently; looking down at his knees as he padded them together, the almost nonexistent grin still present on his rosy lips.
Niall hoped he could keep that smile, minuscule as it was, there for as long as he could; hoped he could let some happiness warm the cold hollowing out the child’s bones.
“Harry?” He waited for a glance in his direction before speaking again. “How… are you?” He wondered whether Harry, young as he was, would understand the seriousness of his question.
The youth blinked slowly up at the blonde man who had his eyes set forward, grip tightening on the steering wheel. “I… I’m-- fine.” The quiet words slipped from his lips; he wasn’t quite sure whether they were a lie or not. Not quite sure whether he deserved to really feel fine at all.