do you feel like a young god? // (Zarry AU)

ch 4; do you feel like a young god?

Sounds of quills scribbling onto parchments fill the air, hinting on a vigorous essay writing session for the History of Magic class. It's kind of really mundane, having to go through pages and pages of magical history and writing an essay on the chronological order of events.

By the time Harry finishes, he's already tired of it. Ink stains splattered onto his fingers, staining them.

"That was the most annoying thing I've ever had to do," Niall nudges him, looking bored out of his mind.

"Tell me about it," his shoulders drop, just happy to be done with it as he goes up to Professor Binns' desk and submits his work.

"Uh, Mr. Styles?" Professor beckons.

The class is emptying and Niall is already packing up his things.

"Could you be so kind to put the text books in the shelves? You could even ask Mr. Hor-"

"Sorry, sir. Got another class!" Niall exclaims, grabbing his things with lightning speed as Harry gives him a playful glare.

"Enjoy," Niall mouths to him with a bashful grin and exits the class.

"S'alright, I'll be happy to help," comes a voice behind him.

"Thank you, Mr. Tomlinson. That'd be very kind," Professor acknowledges him with a small smile and ambles out of the class.

Harry blinks once, carding his fingers through his curls and decides to not make any conversation. Why should he? He has no reason to believe any of Zayn Malik's friends are any different than he is. So, he resolves that he'll quickly do the work and leave. Going over to the front desks, he collects the books left behind by the students. Since the subject is so pedantic and theoretic, Professor prefers that they store their books in the class itself and have each one collect it back when required to use in the class.

"These books are so bloody heavy," Louis comes up beside him when he's stacking the books on the shelf.

That's what Niall would say, he thinks to himself.

"Styles, right?" Louis looks at him with an amiable smile, extending his hand out.

Harry doesn't know what to make of the gesture so, he shakes his hand to be polite and nods, keeping his lips pursed, "Yeah and you're Louis Tomlinson."

"That infamous, ey?" Louis teases, slyly.

"No, I didn't mean-"

"It's alright," the blue eyed lad shrugs, settling into a languid disposition with an easy smile on his face, "Comes with being the best mate of, you know who."

"Right."

"Um, I also wanted to thank you for what you did for him. It's kinda why I stayed back," Louis scratches the back of his sheepishly, "He gets hurt a lot but it never gets that bad."

For a moment, he looks serious. His blue irises suddenly dull in the light of the classroom, making him seem sincere in his admittance. And Harry understands. If something were to happen to Niall, it would nearly take the life out of him.

"Yeah, sure. Thanks," He beams a polite smile at him and goes over to collect more books.

"Did you see anyone, then? That night?"

Harry's lips downturn into a faint frown when his mind drifts to recollect the incident. He shakes his head, crouching down to put the books into the lower section of the shelf, "No, when Niall and I found him, he was-," Harry pauses, trying to collect his words, "in a lot of pain."

Louis hums, understandingly. It was a bummer that there were no leads but he's glad that it's over. He knows Zayn's particularly ticked off by the incident but now, he rarely even mentions it. Spends most of his time practicing spells and potions or on the pitch with Louis (and when he's not doing that, sneering at Harry.)