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SONG OF THE CHAPTER: Ditmas- Munford and Sons

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Louis had been overviewing Harry Styles' work for the last four days, and his notepad had barely a page of notes. It wasn't his fault that the doctor was young, charming and sent winks to him over the patients' shoulders when he made up daft lies about the different bones or how things worked. One thing he had seen, which was obvious to Louis from the start, was that the man loved his job. A smile was always gracing his pinkish lips, even when he was finding things that were not particularly nice, or cleaning out far too many wounds on one malnourished boy for it to be healthy.

There were a few tattoos that littered his pale arms, and the dizzy mix of curls that crossed his forehead were nothing but a distraction; Niall was considering putting Louis on a different duty, but the lad was determined to handle the medical observations.

Runners had been going in and out the office door, one by one, for three days. Each appointment was around half an hour, cleaning wounds, testing hearts, breathing examinations, the lot. And Louis was pretty sure he could carry it out by himself at this point, but there was a tiny, ginger lad laying on the table with a scar across his cheek and an infection on his back that probably needed a medical professional- so Harry was gently distracting him with silly topics and small jokes while he spread some antiseptic around his injuries.

"Okay, Frank, you're good to go." He grinned once more, handing the boy one of the smaller shirts he had in piles and sending him through the door. Niall had demanded for the runners to be clothes at all times, they needed to be kept warm and the material offered some protection against infection. The lad sent a small smile as he shut the door, all dry lips and freckled cheeks that made Louis' heart swell. "He was the last for today," Harry then said to Louis, who nodded slowly.

"It's only half past four."

"I know," Harry answered, tapping away at his computer with furrowed brows. "I still have work, just no check-ups until tomorrow." Louis almost smacked himself, of course he had more work to do. He was a doctor, after all. "Just filing, though, luckily there are more nurses now so I've not got patients coming out 'f me ears."

"Niall said he upped the staff," Louis said dumbly, wanting to keep the conversation alive. "How many runners have you done?"

"One hundred, all the lads under fourteen, and tomorrow we get the boys who do the harder runs and have far more training. So, don't come if you're squeamish."

"I'm sure I can handle it. Are any of the boys so far in danger?" He almost didn't want to ask, but he needed to know. They were so frail and some of them with such harsh injuries or slow breaths that he couldn't help but be heavily concerned.

"A few. Lung issues, heart palpitations, psychological damage in most, I should think." His eyes briefly move from the computer screen to Louis, and the happy doctor that had looked after the runners was gone. His eyes were a steel slate of green and his expression harsh. "Niall told me he would let go of any lads with problems, but at this rate, he'll only have a couple dozen left."

"That's for the best, though. It'd be far better if the kids weren't just taken from their homes because they can't afford one of the safer neighbourhoods." Louis shook his head, Harry turning to face him properly now. "I used to watch them being brought in from my window, still do, it's haunting. And there's at least half of the group that are girls, what even happens to them?"

"I would hate to find out." Harry grunted, eyes on the thin window behind Louis' body. "I was almost taken in when I was little, managed to get out, though my brothers and sisters didn't. I was about four, mind you, so the memory is hazy." He said slowly, blinking a few times before picking up some files and exiting the room with only the echo of his footsteps through the hallway and heavy words to keep Louis and his thoughts company.

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