Enchanted

***

Today, at dinner, the champions for the Triwizard Tournament would be announced. The tension could be felt everywhere at every time. The professors were annoyed with the lack of concentration the students treated the lessons with and let them go a few minutes earlier so they could walk their energy off as they went to the Great Hall. Harry walked in between an excited Liam and a babbling Niall and then sat between them, having his ears talked off but he wouldn't change a single thing. 

He'd been informed by overhearing some classmates that yesterday the volunteers for the tournament had had the chance to throw their name into the Cup of Fire. He probably hadn't paid attention to the announcement the day before, being stuck in his head with schoolwork. Just the schoolwork it was, yep. Also, said schoolwork didn't show up during breakfast which had darkened Harry's mood but only until he was stressing about his Potions exam. It went well, really well. But Lo— the schoolwork hasn't left his mind since he'd met him in the library. It messed with his head.

It messed even more with his head as Louis waved at him from the Slytherin table, all cheeky smile and beautiful, gorgeous blue eyes. He was wearing a big woolen sweater, the color a rich, dark blue. It made his eyes seem brighter than two stars, two impeccable sapphires, two blue suns. Harry loved this color on him. He probably would love every color on him because he would look dashing in everything. Harry bit his lip and blinked multiple times, trying to register that Louis really waved at him, before he smiled with his dimples digging deeply  into his red cheeks. Louis' grin broadened at his smile. Harry's butterflies revived and doubled up, flattered around the heat bubbling at the bottom of his belly. He ducked his head and regarded his loaded plate. How could he feel that much from only one glance, one smile, one boy? 

He tried to not look up again but threw one glance at the boy while he ate his spaghettis. His gaze lingered a few minutes on Louis talking and laughing with a black haired boy sitting next to him. He was nearly as beautiful as Louis, but not quite. In the back of his head he heard a small voice musing that nobody will ever be more beautiful than Louis. Harry shushed the voice but secretively approved. As Louis began to turn his head, Harry quickly averted his eyes to Liam playing cards with Cara, but could feel the heat of two piercing blue eyes staring at him. He tried to hide his blushing face behind his hands messing with his untamed curls. He avoided looking in this particular direction for the rest of lunch and rather spent the time talking with Niall.

The food for Halloween Feast coated every visible space of the house tables, it bent the thick wood, smelled delicious and was still hot and fresh delivered from the kitchen. Niall threw himself into the bowl of pumpkin and mushroom dishes, noodles, potatoes, bread, french fries, vegetables and many other options to indulge the stomach. The feast seemed to drag along for too long, everyone boozing with excitement while also trying to eat something from everything. After dessert, the plates vanished and tense chattering could be heard in the hall. As Dumbledore got op from his chair and strolled towards the edge of the podium, every student stilled immediately and shut their mouth. A pin could probably be heard if it dropped. They waited impatiently for the old wizard to speak. Finally, he did.

"Students of Hogwarts. As you all know, today the three champions for the Triwizard Tournament will be chosen. After the Cup of Fire is ready, it will randomly pick one student from each school to compete in the tournament." He was silent for a few seconds until a low bubbling sound emerged. "As soon as the champions are announced, they all will meet in the chamber over there immediately. Further instructions will be discussed there."

Then he lifted his wand and swished through the air a few times. The candles hovering at the ceilings turned off, only the ones in the artistically scarfed pumpkins on the window sills illuminated the Great Hall. The Cup of Fire shone bright in the dim hall and suddenly lit up in a flashy light blue. Harry squinted his eyes a bit to see the cup better as blue and white flames flickered wildly, then turned red and orange and they spat out a small piece of parchment. It floated through the and straight into the hand of Dumbledore who opened the folded paper and spoke loudly, "The champion for Durmstrang is...Louis Tomlinson!".

The Durmstrang blokes cheered manly, the Slytherins and most of the rest of the people in the hall applauded, some whistled. Harry held his breath. He only knew one Louis and the possibility of the Louis being Louis Tomlinson, the first champion, was considerably high. His suspect was confirmed as the beautiful, beautiful Louis stood up and went to Karkaroff who'd jumped up at the mention of his favorite student being a champion. Liam had told Harry that Louis was quite known in the wold of Quidditch as his father was on of the most famous seeker of all time. Also, he was, like, really rich and his father apparently paid the Durmstrang Institute a hefty amount of money every year.

While Louis was embraced by his headmaster, Harry only paid attention to the caramel colored hair that fell into his face as he turned around and surveyed the entire hall and maybe, probably, Harry imagined his glance to linger on him. It was impossible but he could feel the deep emotions the sapphire eyes coaxed out of him. Before Harry could admire the boy more intently, Louis was already swept away by the creepy Karkaroff.

The champion for Beauxbatons was a pretty blonde girl named Fleur Delacour and the Hogwarts champion was Cedric Diggory. Harry'd met the Hufflepuff a few times in the common room. He was really nice and soft spoken, polite and handsome. But not as handsome as— Harry stopped the thought. He forgot to care about his endurance to keep the thought at bay as the Cup of Fire spat another, a fourth piece of paper out of the flames. The students gasped. Niall dramatically held his chest where his heart was. Dumbledore stared at it flying into his open palm. The cheerful atmosphere subdued. The headmaster mumbled a name, then repeated it, louder. "Ha-Harry Potter!" He called in disbelief. 

Loud voices erupted, shoutings, protest, a few cheers. Harry watched as Harry Potter got up, confused, as to why he was being called. "Harry Potter!" Dumbledore shouted demandingly.

The golden boy scrambled to the front, passed glaring wizards and witches, then the headmaster with his name on the paper and disappeared behind a door that lead to an adjacent room to the Great Hall. And the crowd began to whisper and mumble which led to shouting and asking questions to no one in particular in confusion. Dumbledore had a hard time shushing his students before he rushed out of the hall and chased after the fourth champion. Harry was shocked. Niall's mouth stood wide open and Liam's eyes were double of their normal size.

"Well, shit," Liam spoke and Niall snickered, Harry was still too shocked. 

Niall found his voice next. "No big surprise. I mean, the boy's involved in everything these years. Would've been a miracle if he'd got away this year."

Harry dug his elbow in Niall's ribs and Liam slapped the back of his head since it was the only thing he could reach past Harry. 

"That's insensitive, Ni," Liam scolded. 

"The poor boy," Harry said emphatically.

"Yeah, poor boy getting all the attention, again. He's lovin' it, I'm tellin' ya," The Irish boy commented and earned another elbow in the biceps this time. Niall yelped jokingly, Harry apologized immediately, Niall smiled gently and dismissed it, reassuring Harry he was only joking. Harry relaxed. He'd never hurt his friend, even if he was being idiotic.

Professor McGonagall told the students to return to their common rooms and wished them a calm and good night. As Harry walked through the tall door and out of the Great Hall, he turned back, hoping he'd catch a glance at a particular boy but of course, he wasn't there. Harry pledged himself to congratulate Louis on becoming a champion as soon as he'd see him. He felt a strange feeling of pride of the boy. He felt proud. Was it awkward? Probably. But Harry was awkward, so it was okay, he thought and followed Liam trough the corridors to the common room.

Having arrived there, Harry studied a bit while listening absentmindedly to his housemates chatting about the tournament and if the champions deserved being in that desirable position or if they'd wanted another student to become champion. Eventually, Harry retreated into the dormitory he shared with Niall, Liam and two other boys, Charlie and Rick. He flopped onto his bed and sighed, reopened his book for Herbology and forced himself to ignore the persistent picture of Louis' eyes in his mind, or his hands, his hair, his mouth and, oh, his voice. The heavenly sounding voice, the rasp and honey-like tone that lay itself over Harry like a warming blanket.

He desperately wanted to hear it again. Soon.

***

Soft hands caressed the thin skin above his ribs, fingers following every dent and every curve of his body. Warmth spread out on his skin until it felt as if he was on fire. An angelic voice whispered loving words into his ear, warm lips formed letters against his neck, shushing quietly as he trembled under the body on top of his, the weight resting on him and letting him feel cared for, safe. Chills ran over his body, leaving him a shuddering mess as the lips kissed their way down past his collarbones, a tongue swiped across his nipple, fingertips tweezed the other. A whimper freed itself out of his mouth, his lungs strained, his hair lay sweaty on his forehead. It felt like a dream, a phantasy, a fairytale. He felt so loved, passionate. He was kissed, soothed, approved with words. 

The lips parted at his hip, a tongue darted out and licked over the skin beneath his navel, tousled the soft hair that led into his boxers. He whimpered again as he was kissed directly at the waistband of his pants, teeth pulling on the band teasingly. Slowly, torturingly slow, they pulled the band lower and lower, lower until the scorching skin beneath the fabric could finally breathe. He was touched, sinfully, slowly, lovingly and carefully. He moaned. The he moaned louder into the mouth suddenly covering his own, tongues fighting for dominance, him giving in easily, letting himself be devoured. He moaned again. Hands teasing him, then touching him, pushing him to the brink of salvation. He moaned another time, louder, then whimpered, trembled and let loose. He floated, even though he was admidst the sheets of a bed. He felt light, carefree, love pulsing around him and he was so so happy.

His eyes shot open. He looked around, breathing heavily, laying on his stomach, legs parted and bent. His chest was heaving quickly his heart pounded in his ears. He rolled onto his back, pushing the blanket down to his hips, a thin coat of sweat layering his forehead. He was wet. His skin. His boxers. They were wet. His dream, his phantasy. It was a wet dream, a really wet phantasy. He dreamed about having sex. With...a boy. With the boy. He pressed his eyes closed, ashamed, willing away the pictures lingering in his head, repeatedly, over and over again until Harry was panting and crying out of stress. He only could cast a quick spell some time in between gasping to dry his boxers, not wanting to stand up and change and risk waking the others. Tears prickled out of his eyes, burned his cheeks as they dried and left salty paths on his skin. He could never look into those beautiful blue eyes again, not with the dream repeating itself like a film, not with the imaginary knowledge about those lips and hands on his skin. 

He cried until Liam woke up to suppressed sniffling sounds. The boy didn't sleep as heavy as a brick like Niall who was snoring quietly on the other side of Harry's bed. Liam climbed out of his bed and slipped into Harry's behind the trembling boy. He didn't ask, just held him in his arms, soothing his unruly curls and drying his wet face with his long sleeve sleeping shirt. He shushed Harry quietly, rubbing his fingers calmly over his arms. He didn't stop caring until sleep took over Harry's drained body, pulling him deep into the darkness, surrounding his brain, blurring the pictures of Louis above him. When he was laying unconsciously in Liam's arms, the taller boy stayed with him and fell asleep soon after.

In the morning, when Harry woke up embraced in two strong arms, a warm breath on his face and a firm chest resting beneath his cheek, his breathing faltered for a second before he recognized the orange fabric of the shirt Liam loved to wear to bed. He snuggled his face into the chest of his friend, smiling until the last night's events reached his fogged up brain. Shit, he cursed to himself and squeezed his eyes shut. He'd had a freaking wet dream about a boy he barely knew. He could never speak to him again, he'd only embarrass himself more, being a blushing and stumbling mess in front of him. Harry feared that the boy knew about his dream even if it was completely impossible. With his talent of forming words, he'd probably spill it while speaking about the simplest thing like the weather. Oh, the rain wets the land like I wet my pants cumming after dreaming about you. Yeah. Great.

He shuffled out of his bed, leaving Liam behind, and quickly showered off the clammy feeling on skin, hoping to wash the pictures in his head down the drain while doing so. After he got dressed in his uniform, he gathered a few books and sat down on his favorite yellow armchair in the empty common room. He busied his head with complex facts about rare plants and decided to skip breakfast today. No way he'd risk seeing Louis again only hours after his dream. Maybe he'd try and talk to him in few years, or decades. Yep, that sounded way better.

Liam joined Harry a few minutes later, having been woken up by a particular loud snore of Niall. Harry laughed at the annoyed tone of his friend but made sure he didn't seem as if he was being spiteful but just amazed by their friend. Liam sat down on the floor with his back against Harry's legs and laid his head on his knees. Liam asked if he was feeling okay, Harry said he’d had a nightmare. Liam believed him. He hated lying with his whole heart but he’s never told his friends about him liking boys, didn’t know how to tell them either so he kept it to himself.

Harry's fingers stroked Liam's hair while he continued reading about plants they'd have to care for in one of the next Herbology lessons. After a few Hufflepuffs trotted sleepily out of their dorms, Niall came down, too, and threw himself dramatically into Liam's lap, accidentally kicking him in the balls and earning a slap on the head because of that. Soon, Niall rolled around on the floor and complained about his stomach eating itself if he didn't get fed anytime soon. Both Harry and Liam laughed at the drama that was displayed by their friend and Liam stood up, ready to go to the Great Hall for breakfast. But Harry said he didn't want to come with.

"How are you not starved, man! I'd be dead by now if I had your eating schedule," Niall stated and scrambled to his feet, soothing the crinkles in his cape and straightening his tie that dangled above his white shirt.

"'M just no really hungry. I'll just get an apple from the kitchen before school starts," Harry reassured them and waved at his friends goodbye, then turning his attention back to the book in his hands. 

As the start of the first lesson neared, Harry closed his book and stuffed all three books into his bag. In his dorm, he added his quill and inkwell, then he headed to the kitchen for an apple and then to the astronomy wing where Defense Against the Dark Arts was being taught. Soon, lunch rolled around and Harry was hungry, having not eaten properly since yesterday at dinner. He met his friends at their usual place on the long bench, Niall sitting on his right and Liam on his left side. They've seen each other during one lesson but not again since then so they talked about what they learned, Niall complaining about Professor Trelawney. He'd elected Divination because he'd wanted to find out if he would be rich in his future only to be utterly disappointed as the quirky professor babbled about death and some dangerous threats awaiting him. He also hated having to guess some meaning out of lumpy tea leaves and goggling into a glass sphere, unable to see something in there. 

They chatted and ate happily, Harry being carefree for once, not having to have a heavy study session until tomorrow, as a tap on his right shoulder halted his hand leading the spoon of soup to his mouth midair. Niall turned his head first, gaping at the person behind Harry. He turned his upper body around, curious about who wanted to speak to him. His breath was caught in his throat and his lips parted in a silent gasp as he saw Louis standing directly behind him, only a few inches parting them.

A sweet smile rested on the boy's thin lips, his cheekbones bulging his skin beautifully. His hair was swept across his forehead, the tips of the strands touching the skin just above his eyebrow. His piercing eyes sparkled and his tongue darted out to wet his lips. Harry stared, he knew he stared, he couldn’t help it. His mind worked through the pictures still lingering there, picking out the few where this tongue was involved. Harry was fucked and not nearly ready to speak to Louis. He would be awkward and embarrass himself probably.

"Hello, Harry." Louis' smile broadened, small crinkles appearing around his eyes, making him look really cute and gorgeous. "Do you mind if I sit with you?"

Harry's staring intensified and was added by disbelief and surprise. Louis wanted to sit with him... "You-You want to?" He dumbfoundedly asked, mouth agape. Pictures, pictures, so many pictures in his head. He quickly turned back and looked at his plate.

"Yes I do. If you'd allow it?" Louis glanced to Niall and them to Liam who stared at him, too, though with different reasons. Louis' father was a Quidditch legend and therefore Louis was also a legend even though not because he himself played the sport. But still, Liam held a particular admiration for the boy.

"'Course!" Niall piped up but looked at Harry and nudged Harry who could only look at his pumpkin soup, then at his best friend to find out if it was okay with them.

Carefully, Harry turned his head to Louis, looked into these shining blue eyes breathlessly, then nodded. "If you're sure. You don't have to."

"I asked you, love. I want to." 

Love. Harry bit his lip and nodded again. Love, love, love. He felt his heartbeat everywhere in his body, his hands tingled, yearning to touch his smooth skin again. Louis pointed to the other side of the table and made his way around the Hufflepuff table, seating himself on the free space in front of Harry. He smiled at Harry and began to fill the empty plate with lasagna and salad. Harry's cheeks were hot since their eyes have met and now his whole body was burning, trying to take off his mind of the film playing in his head, the dream. 

"So, Harry, how was your day?" Louis spoke up, then taking a bite of his lasagna and moaning at the taste. He'd be the death of Harry.

"Uh...good?" He tried and felt Niall's hand on his thigh, soothing him. Harry found a spark of confidence. "Yes, it was good, thank you." He glanced at Niall who nodded encouragingly. Harry averted his eyes to Louis. The boy chewed, smiling and blinking his eyes. "How about you?"

"I had fun. But now I'm happy I'm here. With you." He winked and Harry blushed more, ducking his head slightly.

"Louis? I can call you Louis, yeah?" Liam suddenly joined the conversation and stole Louis attention from Harry. He was a bit sad about that even though he’d never admit it.

"Sure. Are you Harry’s friend?" Louis nicely asked and smiled. The smile was different than the one he'd given Harry. His heart jumped over one beat at the possibility of Louis looking at him in a special way.

"I'm Liam. Niall and I are Harry's best friends," Liam answered, his hands fiddling under the table. Harry found the way his friend was excited about talking to Louis endearing but he also envied him for being able to speak so steadily to him. So he rather watched Louis being the most beautiful human walking on this earth, talking to his best friend, sitting with him, having asked to do so. 

"Nice to meet you. You, too, Niall." He nodded at both of them. Oh Merlin, Louis was talking to his friends. How was this even real?

"Good to see ya, mate. Congratulations on being champion!" Niall grinned.

"Thanks, man, appreciate it." 

"How is your father?" Liam blurted out, then slapping his hand over his mouth as if the words shouldn't have come out. Niall snickered and Louis smirked amusedly, Harry only stared at Louis lips as they curved.

"Alive and kickin'. You a fan?" Louis spoke calmly, seemingly not bothered by Liam's bluntness. Maybe he was used to fans of his father asking him about the famous athlete.

"Big, big fan," Liam grinned broadly.

"He once kissed a picture of your dad in a magazine. Weirdo." Niall laughed loudly at his own joke but Harry knew it was a true story and smiled with him.

"I did not do such thing, you liar," Liam exclaimed with a red face. He avoided Louis' laughing eyes.

"No biggie. I've heard worse, believe me," Louis said reassuringly. Liam visibly relaxed.

"Like what?" Niall asked being his nosy self.

"I remember a girl masturbating while rubbing her ass on the poster face of my dad." Harry and the other two boys twisted their faces in disgust, not at the act of a girl pleasuring herself but at the act of her wiggling her arse on a poster of his dad. Creepy vision. "Yeah, I looked like that too as she proudly told me that." He shuddered as if to shake the memory off him. "Some crazy kids, these days, I'm tellin' you."

"Oh, I believe you. But don't worry, I'm pretty normal regarding fangirling," Liam said laughing.

"Good to hear." Louis' eyes crinkles and shone bright as he locked his glance with Harry's after they sat and ate in silence for a few seconds, Louis finishing the rest of his lasagna and salad. "What are you up to this afternoon, Harry?" He asked him while smiling softly at him.

"I'm, uhm, gonna be doing my homework, probably," He answered shyly, not knowing why Louis would like to know about his day but loving the feeling of being asked by him. 

"In the library, I suppose,” Louis assumed. He still smiled. His skin glowed like fresh honey.

"I think so, yes." Harry bit his lip nervously. His heart pounded loudly in his chest, nearly bending his ribs from the inside.

"I’ll see you then, love," Louis said cheekily, winked, grabbed a banana and got up, waving sweetly at a speechless Harry and then left. Harry’s heart didn’t even beat anymore out of shock, he was sure.

"I think we got a new friend," Niall stated and happily dug into his potatoes.

Yeah, it seemed like Louis was a new friend. Harry pushed the thought away, that he'd like Louis to be more...

***