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feel the chemicals burn in my bloodstream

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It isn’t exactly easy to explain how Harry became the way he is—mostly due to the fact it’s how he was born. He’s been this way ever since he took his first breath.

What’s even harder to explain is how Harry ended up in love with Louis Tomlinson, the Prince of Wales. The stories overlap though, so it’s easier to explain them both together.




Harry’s never been normal—he’s incredibly far from it, actually. Normal people don’t have eyes that glow golden sometimes or random fits of magic burst out of them.

Anne says it’s normal that he’s so powerful but his sister Gemma doesn’t seem to have the same problem as him, so all in all, Harry lives a very confusing childhood.

His childhood doesn’t even begin to compare to now, though.

Next to him, Niall is snickering quietly and Harry would punch him in the arm if he was any ruder but instead he settles for glancing over at the tissue box. His eyes flash golden and there’s a thump as it connects with the blond boy’s head.

“Hey!” Niall complains, rubbing the back of his head with a disgruntled expression. Not that Harry pays any attention, for he's too busy focusing on the television.

He looks over at the remote which is across the room and in seconds it’s in his hand. He raises the volume so he can hear what the reporter is saying.

“—six months since the truly tragic accident that caused Queen Johannah’s death. Here’s Charlotte Tomlinson now coming to her little sister Felicite’s theatre production! Charlotte, can we—“

The blonde girl gives them a scathing look and one of her bodyguards step in front of her, blocking her from the camera. Niall snickers again and Harry just reaches across the couch, settling for flicking him this time.

“I’m trying to listen, will you stop,” Harry whines and Niall laughs loudly in response.

“You’re just watching this for Louis,” Niall mutters and scoots down the couch so Harry can’t reach him. Not that he tries again—he's already shifted his focus back to the television.

The reporter has returned on screen, their face slightly flushed. “Charlotte seems a little reluctant to speak to us but here come the twins! Daisy and Phoebe, how have things been since your mother  passed away?” One of the twins scowls and the other rolls her eyes before both girls give her matching bored looks and start walking away.

Harry almost laughs this time too, but he contains himself. He doesn’t even know why the news reporters keep trying to talk to the Tomlinson family in general. It’s clear all the royals have a distinct dislike of the media but it’s not like Harry blames them. Ever since the Queen’s death, the press has been all over the Tomlinson family and they’re relentless with their blunt questions.

The only Tomlinson that is willing to answer questions (when he absolutely has to) is Louis, and that may be part of the reason Harry is watching. Or the only reason. Not that he’s admitting to anything, of course.

It’s just that—the Prince is beautiful and Harry has eyes. He can’t be blamed for that. Also, he’s the first royal to ever be out of the closet.

Harry knows that it can’t be easy and every day he feels a surge of affection for the young prince for being so brave in the face of all this. He wishes he could tell the prince firsthand how courageous and wonderful he is, but of course Harry isn’t important enough to even be in the presence of royalty. He’ll settle for his television.

Louis comes on screen then and he looks tired. Harry instantly feels bad and wishes he could give the prince a hug but they’re on opposite ends of London and Harry wouldn’t make it five feet into the crowd that has formed outside of Felicite Tomlinson’s school.

“Prince Louis! Lovely seeing you here! How are things going now that you have to take the responsibility of—“ She starts but Louis just brushes past her.

Harry frowns and watches as Louis disappears into the school.

Niall clears his throat next to him and Harry gives him an exasperated look. “What?”

“You look like you just watched someone step on a puppy, Haz. Cheer up, you’ve got that interview later today and if you go in all pouty they definitely won’t hire you,” Niall teases and his big toe pokes Harry’s bare knee where his jeans are ripped. “Also, change your trousers. Or tape them up.”

Harry gives his legs a considering look before looking back up at the television. He sighs quietly and then his eyes flash golden before the television turns off by itself. “Will you do it for me?” Harry pleads and Niall scoffs.

“No, I will not. Do I look like your manservant?” Niall sniffs before he gets off the couch and promptly disappears into the kitchen. Harry waits a minute before following him because albeit the Irish boy’s appetite, he can’t cook to save his life and Harry doesn’t want to put out another fire this week.

Despite Niall’s knack for nearly burning their flat to the ground and making fun of Harry’s celebrity crushes, Harry doesn’t think he could have a better best friend.

They met when they were four and Niall just moved from Ireland. The blond boy was in the middle of the street when a bus came hurtling down the road. Harry did the only thing he could think of and used his magic to blow the boy back to the sidewalk. Obviously after that Niall learned about Harry's magic, but he’s never treated Harry any different. In fact, after it happened he had just brushed himself off, thanked Harry, and then promptly asked whether Harry wanted to come with him to get some ice cream.

They’ve been joined at the hip ever since. Now, Niall will still do the same thing, except they go for a few drinks instead of ice cream (although they do that sometimes, too). Niall comes with a sense of normalcy and Harry loves that about him. He doesn’t think Harry is weird or strange and maybe that makes Niall weird and strange himself but Harry will take what he can get.

Niall keeps him grounded and that’s why Harry knows he would never trade Niall for anyone else. He knows exactly how to get Harry out of a mood or when not to ask questions. Niall is the only person who really knows Harry and that’s something Harry can’t replace.

“Please don’t touch anything,” Harry calls and Niall grumbles something unintelligible in return.

When Harry pushes open the door to their kitchen, Niall is getting a water bottle out of the fridge and there’s a smile on his lips. It’s a known fact that Niall can’t even pretend to be upset.

“This isn’t for me,” Niall informs, tossing the water bottle and Harry fumbles to catch it. He doesn’t manage to get it and it falls to the floor with a sad thud. “Weak,” Niall mutters as Harry bends down to grab it and Harry scowls in his general direction.

“Thank you,” Harry replies because his mother didn’t raise him to be impolite. Niall rolls his eyes fondly and walks over to pat Harry on the back as he straightens back up.

“If you think I don’t know exactly why you were really watching the news, Haz, you’re stupid. Taking your mind off the interview won’t help because honestly, there’s nothing to be nervous about. You’re an amazing journalist and they’d be stupid if they didn’t hire you. I mean, if they’re hiring people like that blonde lady, you’ll be fine,” Niall reassures and Harry finally feels his lame act of nonchalance crumble to the ground.

“But what if they don’t? I mean there’s people better than me and I—“

Niall cuts him off. “No, I don’t even want to hear it. You’re good, Harry and you know it. There’s no reason to be so anxious. Even if they don’t hire you—which they will—there’s other places for you to apply to.”

Harry frowns, shaking his head. “But this is Direction. Why would they want to hire me? They’re the best newspaper in all of England.”

“Harry, you wouldn’t have gotten the interview in the first place if they didn’t think you were good enough. Just be your charming self and you’ll be fine,” Niall advises, leading Harry out of the kitchen.

Their flat isn’t the biggest but it isn’t the smallest either. They’ve both got decent jobs and they could definitely afford something larger but this is the flat they’ve had since they were eighteen and Niall hauled Harry to London with him.

It’s been a roller coaster since then, with Harry having to juggle his magic and reality at the same time. He has it all down to a science now. He knows exactly how to use magic so no one knows what he’s doing except for him and occasionally Niall.

The only other people he knows with magic are his sister Gemma and his mentor Paul. In the world they live in, magic is rare and dangerous.

Paul says the only people who still have magic are those who are too powerful for their genes to suppress it. In the past, magic was common but illegal and now people regard it as a myth. Harry knows there are people that know magic still exists because every once in a while, there’s reports of deaths from those who remind him of himself.

That in itself is terrifying. The fact there are people who will kill him because he was born a certain way. He knows how to protect himself and his family using his magic, though.

Gemma is nowhere near as powerful as him and he wishes he knew why. They’re both of the same blood so Harry can’t help but wonder about it because his power is so much more. It’s never made sense to Harry and when he asked his mother, Anne just shook her head.

She told him it was because his magic has a purpose, one that’s bigger than Gemma’s. That does nothing to answer any of Harry’s questions and it’s times like those he wondered where the fuck his good for nothing father is.

They don’t talk about him but Harry knows that’s where their magic is from considering that his mother doesn’t have an ounce of magic anywhere inside her except for her smile and the way she loves so selflessly. He likes to think that maybe he has those attributes too, that he got them from her.

In the great scheme of things, Harry thinks it would’ve been nice to know his dad, to know more about his magic and why he can do the things he can but Harry isn’t really looking at the bigger picture. All he knows is that his dad makes him feel bitter and that he’s glad that Robin came into their lives.

Also, Paul. Harry is quite grateful for Paul as well.

While Paul doesn’t use his magic, he pretty much single-handedly taught Harry everything that he knows.

When Harry was eighteen and just another lost person in London, he wandered down to Higgin’s Pharmacy, holding a note from his mother.

After Paul read the letter, he gave Harry a hard look and promptly dropped a glass of water. Harry’s eyes reacted before his hands did and they glowed gold. The glass stopped midway and once Harry caught Paul’s look, he automatically cut his magic off.

The glass fell to the floor with a sharp crack before shattering but Paul just stared at Harry in awe.

It turns out the strength of his magic really was out of the ordinary. Paul told him it had been a long time since someone with magic like him has been around. A thousand years even. Harry refused to believe it but Paul insisted as much.

Paul gave him dozens of books, told him to read and memorize spell after spell. Harry decided not to mention how he could do most of the beginner spells before he could even speak and how he was born with his power. Paul figured that out anyways.

He spent years and years perfecting his magic after that. Harry knows exactly how to hide in plain sight but he also knows that if he’s feeling bored, he can make a lightning storm happen without so much as lifting a finger.

It’s not normal. Harry's never known anyone else (apart from Gemma and Paul) with magic but after awhile, he just knows his magic is different. He is different and he just wants to know why. He wants to know what his purpose is and why his magic is so powerful. He wants answers and he doesn’t know how to get them.

He tried looking at books, researching online and he often attempted to guilt Paul into telling him but it was all to no avail. Nothing ever worked and he hates it.

There’s something about the thrum of power in his veins that made him feel like an outsider, even to himself. Harry wants to know why he feels like that—he had so many questions and no idea what to do with them.

So he became a journalist.

He decided that maybe if he asked other people questions, he’d feel less shit about his own questions that he can’t do anything about. He took some classes alongside Niall at university, even though most of Niall's scheduled courses were completely irrelevant to Harry since he’s taking law. That's something Harry isn’t quite sure how Niall accomplishes, considering he’s the most laidback person Harry knows and law is such a serious major.

Once he asked Niall why he decided to major in law and his answer was, “So when random arseholes try to take you to a lab or something because they find out about your magic, I can tell them to fuck off in front of a judge and it’ll sound legitimate.”

Harry knows that’s not the real reason but it warmed his heart all the same. He has good people in his life even if he doesn’t have answers and he thinks that’s alright with him. He can deal with that.

Harry’s good at what he does.

He’s good at journalism even though he didn’t expect to be. He works for a small newspaper at the moment and he does the music section. He writes articles about concerts and singers and he loves it. But he still wants more.

That’s why he sent in an application for Direction newspaper.

Direction newspaper is the most prestigious newspaper in all of England and Harry reads it on the daily. He picks one up every morning when he goes to his classes (or he kind of stares at newsstand box with gold eyes and waits for one to shoot out—he knows it’s stealing but Niall convinces him there’s no point in paying for a newspaper every morning and he might as well) and reads it rather religiously.

When he sent in the application, he didn't really expect any type of response. He just thought he might as well give it a try.

He got a reply. He got several replies.

The first told him to send in some of his work. So he did just that and then he waited. The next reply came a few days later, telling him to send in more of his works. It kept going like that until now, today, where he has an actual interview. He’s beyond nervous and his palms feel sweaty and he thinks he might throw up if jostled the wrong way.

“I can’t do this,” Harry says, but now they’re standing in the middle of a busy sidewalk, staring up at a fifteen story building. Across the front there’s a huge 1D (because Direction only goes in one direction,  which is up). The logo makes Harry feel nauseous.

Niall rolls his eyes and pushes Harry forward.

Not the smartest of choices because Harry doesn’t have complete control of his legs most of the time and he nearly goes flailing to the ground. He would have fell on his face if it weren’t for Niall’s arm pulling him back by his collar at the last second.

“Stop being such a pussy,” Niall reprimands and some of the people walking by give the pair dirty looks.

“But Niall, I can’t do this—I should just go back. I’m sure Ben would easily let me keep my job for a few more years, I really don’t need to do—“

Niall fixes Harry with a glare. “You’re going to walk into that building or I’m going to call Anne and we’re going to have a long conversation on why you seem to lack any balls. Plus, I don’t like Ben, so no. You’re doing this, be it for my sake or yours.”

“Niall, I don’t—“

It’s clear Niall isn’t having any more of Harry’s bullshit because the Irish boy literally grabs him by the blazer lapels and drags him towards the revolving doors. “Go,” Niall says before shoving Harry in.

Harry pouts but then he turns and starts moving so he doesn’t get crushed by the revolving glass doors before he even makes it to the interview. He comes out on the other side and he gives Niall one last pathetic glance through the glass.

Niall grins before sticking up both his middle fingers and then continues to walk away merrily. Harry feels his phone buzz a second later and he pulls it out.

good luck ya wanker <333

Harry grimaces and someone clears their throat in front of him. He startles back in surprise and there’s a dark haired woman in front of him, giving him a brief onceover with a frown on her face. Harry’s eyes flit to her name tag and it reads Jade.

“And who are you?” She asks in a clipped tone, meeting Harry’s eyes.

Harry opens his mouth but no words come out. She doesn’t look impressed at all if her raised eyebrow and pursed lips are anything to go by.

Finally, his brain seems to get the message and words actually come out of his mouth. “I’m—er, I’m Harry Styles? I’m here for an interview?”

Jade’s eyebrows disappears behind her fringe and she looks down at the clipboard in her hands. “Styles? The one Leigh has been emailing?”

Harry nods immediately and Jade’s posture relaxes slightly before she nods. “Alright, come with me,” She instructs before she starts walking towards the elevator. Harry winces at the clack of her heels but follows after her quickly.

He takes a cursory glance around the lobby and how it’s pristine in its cleanliness and beauty. There are dozens of small plants located throughout and there’s few chairs in what seems to be general waiting area. A few people in suits are sitting there, sipping on their coffee and reading over the latest copy of Direction newspaper.

It’s all very—very picturesque. He doesn’t know why but it reminds him of home a little.

Jade leads them to an elevator where they wait in silence. Harry bites on his bottom lip and resists playing with his bracelets. Instead, he pulls down his sleeves until they cover his wrists so the temptation isn’t there.

Harry feels underdressed because everyone around him is in a suit. He’s just wearing a blazer over a black and white plaid shirt and some dark skinny jeans. He regrets all his life decisions.

When the elevator finally dings open, they both step through. There’s another blonde woman inside and she gives Jade a smile.

“Who’s this then?” She asks and Harry flushes but doesn’t say anything as Jade snorts.

“Cowell’s new toy,” Jade replies before grinning brightly at the woman.

The blonde lets out a startled laugh before shaking her head in what looks like pity. “Good luck, mate,” She says just as the elevator doors slide open. She steps though but Jade hangs back so Harry does too.

The elevator doors open again on the top floor and Harry feels a little shaky on his feet as he follows after Jade again. They go through a few hallways before Jade stops and gives Harry a pointed look.

“Wait here for a minute,” She orders before she disappears into a door. Harry does as told and he takes in his surroundings. It’s not much different than downstairs but everything’s a lot brighter and more in his face for some reason.

His bag is a constant weight against his side and he readjusts the strap on his shoulder just as Jade comes back in, looking a lot more cheerful. “Alright, Styles. Here’s the deal. Your interview was supposed to be with Mr. Cowell but apparently, he has special plans for you and instead you’ll be speaking to someone different. They're just through that door so whenever you’re ready, just go.”

Harry gives her a helpless look and she rolls her eyes. “Don’t look like that. It’ll be fine. Leigh says your work is really good and I’m sure the interview will go great.” Then she promptly disappears, leaving Harry there with a nervous look in his eyes.

He feels like he might throw up and he has to pinch the skin beneath his wrist to keep from doing anything stupid. He knows that when he gets like this, he could lose control of his magic and he doesn’t want to be responsible for the windows blowing out or anything.

Harry takes a deep breath before he fixes the collar of his shirt and slaps on a bright smile to his face. He knows how to be likable and charismatic. He can do this.

He takes a few step to close the distance between him and the door. He keeps the smile on his face as he knocks on the door, two short raps of his knuckles.

There’s a brief moment of silence before someone says, “Come in,” and Harry does just that. He turns the doorknob and pushes the door open. The first thing he notices is that it’s very bright. Either there are more windows in here or more shutters are drawn. The second thing he notices is that the man he’s having an interview with could probably be a model.

He’s striking, with tan skin and dark hair. His eyes are a rich brown and his lips are curved up in a small smile. It helps to put Harry’s nerves at ease and he talks a few steps closer to the man.

“I’m—er, I’m Harry,” He says before offering his hand to the tan man.

The man smiles before he stands up from where he’s seated and takes Harry’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Harry. I’m Zayn. Take a seat,” Zayn offers and his voice is pleasant.

Harry smiles before taking the seat across from Zayn and putting his bag on the chair next to him. “I’m going to guess my interview is with you?”

Zayn nods before sitting down himself. They’re sitting at a table and the setting around them is casual. It’s not like any interview Harry’s been to before and that’s probably telling from how despite his smile, he’s biting nervously on the inside of his cheek.

“Yes, that’s me. I don’t actually work here, but Mr. Cowell has a special case for you to work if you get hired so I got called in to see if you’re fit for the job. But enough about me. Tell me about you,” Zayn encourages and Harry’s a little grateful that he’s having this interview with Zayn and not whoever Mr. Cowell is.

Zayn can’t be older than he is and he’s wearing a cozy jumper so Harry doesn’t feel as overdressed as he did before. He honestly could be a model and it occurs to Harry that maybe he is considering he did say he doesn’t work here.

Then he remembers Zayn asked him a question so he’s quick to answer. “Well, I’m Harry Styles. I’m twenty two. I’m from Holmes Chapel in Cheshire. It’s quite boring ‘cause nothing much happens there. It’s quite picturesque.”

Zayn nods and his eyes look amused. “What experience do you have journalism wise?”

Harry clears his throat and he keeps the smile on his face as he keeps talking. “I’m on the staff for a newspaper called White Eskimo and I’m the lead writer for the music section. I joined about a year and a half ago when I signed up for this competition they had and I won. Writing for them and having that many readers showed me that—that’s what I wanted to do. Like, I got such a thrill when I saw people reading my articles and leaving good feedback. It made me want to do more and more.”

Zayn doesn’t say anything, just keeps watching Harry so he guesses he’s meant to keep talking so he shrugs, mumbling, “It’s different than what I’m used to. When people tell me I’m a good writer, it’s usually my mum or best friend.”

That gets a chuckle out of the tan boy as he shakes his head in understanding. “And they always say that,” He agrees and Harry’s smile feels real.

“Exactly! But yeah, writing is what I want to do and if people who can make that happen for me don’t think I should be doing that then that’s a major setback in my plans,” Harry admits and then smiles self-deprecatingly. He knows how to play his cards right and Zayn seems to be eating it all up so he feels pretty good about how the interview is going.

“Tell me a bit more about you,” Zayn coaxes and Harry scrambles for something else to say.

“Er, I work in a bakery too,” He blurts and then feels his cheek flush. Zayn laughs though but Harry isn’t sure if he’s laughing because of him or at him.

“So, you’ve left university, gone to work there and for White Eskimos?” Zayn prods and Harry immediately shakes his head.

“No, I work there on Saturdays. I’m in uni right now but this is my last term of the year and my classes are meant to end next week,” Harry explains and he pinches his wrist under the table to keep himself grounded.

“And what are you studying?” Zayn wonders and Harry lets his hands fall limply to his side before he answers the tanner man.

“I study journalism, sociology, business and English,” Harry informs and Zayn raises his eyebrows but all the same there’s an impressed look on his face.

“Wow. Okay. So what are you doing here today?” Zayn continues and Harry feels a smile tug at his lips again because this, this is what he’s prepared for.

He looks Zayn in the eye before he says, “Well, I’ve always wanted to join but I’ve always been too much of a novice. I’ve read the Direction newspaper since I was eighteen and first moved to London. When I saw that they were taking applications I gave it go because there’s no point in not trying. I mean, the worse that could’ve happened is I never got a reply which didn’t seem to be bad.”

Zayn nods and Harry continues. “I’ve always been interested in the world and this seemed like the perfect opportunity to really get myself out there. I think I could do good here if I was given the chance. I’m not really picky about what I write—I can do a little of everything so no matter what section I’m put, I’ll be alright. It’s just that this—this is my dream. I want this really bad and I’ll do whatever it takes to get it,” Harry finishes, folding his hand on the table and Zayn hums quietly.

Harry isn’t sure what to make of that until Zayn looks up, his expression thoughtful. “How do you feel about gay rights?”

Harry furrows his eyebrows together in confusion and Zayn seems to take that the wrong way because his expression darkens. Harry’s quick to correct whatever assumption the tanner man is making. “Well, I’d have to say I’m pro equal rights in general considering I’m not particularly against my own rights,” He answers slowly, hoping that’s the right thing to say.

It is because Zayn’s expression relaxes and he smiles a little more genuinely. “Alright. How do you feel about politics?”

Harry shrugs, before answering, “I’m not ignorant about it, I suppose. But all the same, it isn’t particularly something I’m in the loop with. Of course, I can be if it’s required for my job.”

Zayn nods before pursing his lips. “How are you with kids?”

Now Harry’s genuinely lost because he isn’t sure how this is relevant to him getting the job but he doesn’t want to upset Zayn by asking useless questions back. “I love kids. I’m looking forward to whenever I settle down and have some of my own.”

Zayn nods again and then takes out his phone. Harry watches curiously as the dark haired man types something before he sets his phone down on the table. “I like you, Harry,” Zayn declares and Harry feels the tension leave his shoulders.

“Well, I’m glad,” Harry replies, before giving Zayn his best smile—the one where his dimples show. “I like you too. Especially your cheekbones.”

That startles a laugh out of Zayn and he grins back at Harry. “Thanks, mate. My cheekbones are fit for royalty,” Zayn says and his eyes are full of mirth but Harry isn’t sure why.

“Well, considering Prince Louis’ cheekbones, I’d say you’re an even tie,” Harry agrees and Zayn snorts, before shaking his head.

“Don’t let him hear you say that,” Zayn mutters and Harry gives him a confused look before glancing around the empty room.

“The Prince isn’t exactly here to hear,” Harry reminds, before laughing cheekily. “Plus, I doubt I’ll ever be even fifty feet in the Prince’s vicinity. I think we’re safe on him hearing me talk about his cheekbones.”

Zayn smirks at that before he stands up, grabbing his phone off the desk. “It was nice speaking to you, Harry Styles. I think I know all that I need to know.”

Harry stands up himself, a polite smile on his face and he shakes the hand that Zayn holds out after a moment. “Thank you for having me,” He says sincerely and Zayn just grins before dropping Harry’s hand.

“It was a pleasure. I’m sure someone will be outside to show you your way out,” Zayn replies amicably and Harry realizes that’s his cue to leave. He nods and grabs his bag before leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

When he gets out, he takes a deep breath and leans against the wall as he goes over the interview in his head. It’s certainly the weirdest interview he’s ever had and he doesn’t know if that’s good or bad. Zayn did say he liked him but that could’ve been an excuse to give him false hope.

He lightly bangs his head against the wall, shutting his eyes. He feels like he might throw up again and he feels his magic bursting in his veins. There’s a brief moment of silence before something shatters. Harry blinks his eyes open and there’s pieces of a flower vase scattered on the floor. Jade is in front of him, with her back turned as she stares at the mess.

When she turns back to Harry, her mouth is gaping a little. “That’s really weird,” She mutters to herself and Harry pinches his thigh for letting his magic get the better of him.

He nods vigorously in agreement. “So strange.”

Jade gives him a weird look before she sighs, bringing her clipboard to her chest. “I’m assuming your interview is done?”

“Uh, yeah,” Harry confirms and she ticks something off the clipboard with her pen before turning her back to him again.

“Alright, I’ll lead you down. Try to keep up, alright?” She orders and he takes one last look around before following after her.

“Well?” Niall prods and Harry groans again, keeping his face stuffed into his pillow. He thinks he might stay here forever—or at least until his phone buzzes with confirmation.

“I hate you,” Harry mutters and he can hear Niall roll his eyes.

Then he’s falling off his bed.

He flinches in surprise before he fixes a glare on his best friend who’s sitting in the middle of the bed. “Now I really hate you.”

Niall snickers before shaking his head. “Tell me how it went, Haz,” Niall demands and Harry sighs, hanging own his head. All he wants is to hide under his blankets and read a book. It seems much easier than worrying about the stupid call he’s meant to get.

“It was alright, I guess. Could’ve been better. I wish it had been better. I mean, the guy who was interviewing me said he liked me but that doesn’t mean I’m going to get the job,” Harry says sulkily before pouting up at Niall. “Why did you let me do this?”

Niall makes a face before offering his hand to Harry. It’s clearly some sort of peace offering so Harry takes it and climbs back into his bed, sitting across from Niall. “I didn’t know you were doing it at first,” Niall reminds before patting Harry’s knee good naturedly. “I’m sure you did fine.”

Harry makes a disgusted noise before falling back onto his pillows, headfirst. Niall doesn’t try to get him out this time. “Stop worrying so much. If the guy said he liked you, I’m sure you got it,” Niall assures, nudging Harry gently.

“I don’t want to be let down,” Harry mumbles and there’s a beat of silence before Niall sighs.

“Alright, if you’re going to mope about it, can we at least do it properly? I haven’t seen The Notebook in ages and you need to restock the fridge with ice cream.”

Harry lifts his head to give Niall an incredulous look. “Why do I have to restock the fridge? I don’t even eat the ice cream!” He protests and Niall shakes his head.

“You shouldn’t have signed up to be my best friend,” Niall replies whimsically, pointedly poking Harry in the ribs. Harry makes a face before slapping his hand away.

“I didn’t sign up for this—I was just saving your life,” Harry reminds and Niall shrugs. It’s clear he doesn’t care what Harry has to say on the subject.

“Saving my life, signing up to be my best friend, it’s all the same. Now please go buy me some ice cream. I’ll love you forever,” Niall bribes and Harry squints his eyes before he deflates.

“You’re so lucky I’m a good person,” Harry mumbles before he rolls out of bed. He hits the floor with a soft thud and Niall chuckles from the bed.

Harry glances at the pillow closest to him and his eyes flash golden before there’s another thud and Niall’s sitting up in confusion on the other side of the bed. “What was that for?” Niall asks indignantly and Harry shrugs.

“Signing up to be my best friend,” Harry answers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world before he stands up. He cracks his back to which Niall makes a revolted noise, before walking over to where his wallet is.

He doesn’t look back at Niall as he leaves the room and then their flat.

A lot of people say that fresh air is helpful for clearing one’s mind but Harry vehemently denies this because the combination of Netflix and fruits is a much better way to get a clear mind.

Harry absently wraps his scarf tighter around his neck before rubbing his hands together in attempt to keep them warm. It’s April and it’s cold and Harry hates it. Well, hate is a strong word but he definitely strongly dislikes it.

He likes the summer, with its bright green leaves and even brighter sun. Spring is just a lot of rain that Harry doesn’t want—especially in the beginning few months because the cold hasn’t slithered away just yet.

Plus, there are way more concerts and festivals to go to in the summer. He thinks that this year he might go to Leeds and he’s excited. He also wishes he had someone to go with but that’s not going to happen, unless he drags Niall with him.

Harry’s relationships don’t last long—it’s very rare they last for more than a few weeks and he thinks it’s probably because he’s such a pushover. They get bored of him easily and they just leave.

It’s stupid but it’s alright because Harry believes in fate and soulmates because if magic is real, then they probably are too. One day, he’ll meet the person for him and he’ll take them to all the festivals he wants. It sounds like a fairly good plan. For now though, he’ll buy some ice cream for his best friend and they’ll watch stupid rom-coms and possibly cry.

It’s good enough.

He doesn’t expect the call. He probably should’ve, considering he’s been waiting five days for it but he still doesn’t. He’s nearly half asleep when it comes even though it’s three in the afternoon. Niall is passed out on their sofa and Love Actually is playing for the third time that week.

“Hello?” Harry says into the phone and Niall kicks him in the thigh, before rolling over and burying his head further into the couch cushions.

“Hello, is this Harry Styles speaking?” A pleasant female voice asks on the other line and Harry quickly straightens up, pushing Niall’s legs off of him.

“Yes, this is him,” Harry confirms, reaching up to rub his eyes. He refrains from yawning because he thinks this call might actually be important and he doesn’t want to mess anything up.

“Great! This Jesy from Direction and I just wanted to let you know that we have a position open for you, if you still want it,” She informs and Harry’s mouth falls open.

“You—really?” He wonders and books start to fall off the shelves of a bookshelf next to him. He takes a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose to keep himself under control. Niall isn’t the only one who accidentally sets fire to their flat.

“Yes, Mr. Styles! We would be honored if you would join our staff. I’ll send you the necessary emails in a few minutes if you’d like job,” She says and Harry feels his eyes bulge.

“I—yes! I would love the position. Thank you so much,” Harry answers and he hopes that his excitement doesn’t come through but it seems it does because Jesy laughs on the other line.

“Alright then. I’ll email you right now. I hope you have a lovely day, Mr. Styles,” She says and Harry nods before realizing she can’t see him.

“You too! Thank you so much, honestly,” He says and she laughs again.

“It’s no problem,” She replies and then there’s a brief moment of silence before she says, “Goodbye, Mr. Styles.”

“Goodby—“ The line cuts off and Harry lowers his phone, staring blankly at it. When his phone buzzes again, he nearly falls off the couch. He looks down at it and it says he has a new email.

That’s when it sinks in.

“Niall, you need to get up right now,” Harry insists, shaking the older boy who shoots up in surprise, eyes wide.

“What? Why? Is someone robbing us? Use your magic!” Niall yells, holding up a pillow and looking around in panic. Then when he realizes no one else is there, he drops the pillow dejectedly. “We’re not being robbed. Why the fuck did you wake me up?” Niall complains, falling back on to the couch and Harry shakes his head.

“I got the job, Niall. I did it. I got the job,” Harry exclaims and Niall blinks at him twice in surprise before he jumps on top of Harry.

“That’s my son! I fucking told you, you tosser! Who’s always right? I’m always right!” Niall declares, all the while hugging Harry so tightly he can’t breathe.

Harry thinks he’s possibly shaking in disbelief and he can’t feel his legs but there’s a huge grin on his lips that’s threatening to split his face right in half.

It feels unreal because this is Direction newspaper. It’s the newspaper he reads every single morning before he does anything else. It’s the newspaper millions of people read every single day and he’s going to be working for them.

He thinks he might explode with the amount of giddiness he feels and he knows he looks stupid with this ridiculous smile on his face but the only person around to judge him is Niall and he’s too busy hugging him so that isn’t a problem.

“Niall, am I dreaming?” Harry breathes out and the blond boy shakes his head, grinning.

“Afraid not, Haz,” Niall answers and then he continues to hug Harry like his life depends on it. Harry thinks his life probably does because Niall is only thing keeping his magic from blasting out of him.

His magic is like a person of its own and right now, the burn in his veins feels really good. It’s a different burn from usual—it’s much stronger and it feels like his magic is telling him something but he isn’t sure what. He felt the same burn when he saved Niall’s life and the same burn the day he moved to London.

Secretly, Harry thinks that his magic burns like that because he’s following Fate’s orders but he doesn’t tell anyone that.

He ignores the burn and settles on hugging Niall back for the time being.

Harry meets Simon Cowell on a Wednesday.

He’s in his new office, marveling at the fact he even has an office when someone knocks quietly on his door. It occurs to him that he’s the one who has to give permission for the person on the other side to come in because this is his office.

There’s an irremovable smile on his face when he says, “Come in!”

The door opens and there’s a man standing in his doorway. He’s probably in his late forties or early fifties and the moment he sees him, he makes Harry want to crawl under the desk.

“Hi, Harry. I’m Simon, your boss or otherwise known as the editor-in-chief and CEO of Direction newspaper,” The man introduces, before taking a seat in the chair in front of Harry’s desk.

Harry swallows nervously before nodding. “It’s nice to meet you, sir,” Harry replies in his sincerest tone.

Simon’s blank expression doesn’t change as he leans back in his seat. “There isn’t a lot that gets past me, Harry. I guess you could say I know everything there is to know. It’s like magic,” The man says and Harry stills in surprise.

He meets Simon’s eyes carefully but there’s nothing there to suggest that he knows about Harry’s magic. “It must be hard to run such a successful company,” Harry comments, changing the subject the best that he can.

Simon narrows his eyes and Harry is worried for a second but it quickly passes when the man nods. “A lot of hard work and dedication went into the foundation of this company. Our employees are the best. Are you going to be one of the best, Harry?”

Harry gives the man a crooked smile before he says, “I aim to be.” He hopes he doesn’t come off as nervous as he feels. His palms feel sweaty and he presses them against his thighs to keep from getting distracted by them.

“Live up to that,” Simon instructs, before the man sits up straighter. “I’m here to inform you of your first assignment. I can’t disclose anything yet but start research on the royal family and then after you’ve done that, look into the Parliament.”

Harry doesn’t ask questions—he just nods because he feels like his heart might beat out of his chest if he doesn’t do everything the man is asking.

“Also, loosen up. If you can come in to work in ripped jeans and a ratty t-shirt then you can definitely look a little more relaxed,” Simon says and his expression finally twitches with the flickers of exasperation.

Harry nods again and Simon rolls his eyes before standing up. “Breathe, Harry,” Simon reminds before he turns around and leaves, closing the door behind him. Harry stares after him a moment before he lets out a breath he didn’t even know that he was holding in.

Then he remembers what Simon asked him to do and a giddy feeling starts to run through him. He has to do research on the royal family—that can only mean one thing in Harry’s mind but he doesn’t let himself hope because the odds that he’ll be interviewing Prince Louis are slim to none and there’s no point in kidding himself only to be disappointed later.

A voice in his head that sounds suspiciously like Simon says, Without hope, you would not be where you are, young warlock. How small you are for such a great destiny.

Harry flinches in surprise but there’s no one there and Simon isn’t anywhere in the vicinity. He shakes his head as if that’ll clear his mind except that the voice is already gone and only Harry’s thoughts plague his mind.

He takes a deep breath, lightly slapping himself on the cheek before he reaches for his water bottle and takes a sip. Once he feels okay to breathe again, he turns on his laptop.

In a matter of minutes, he’s on Google and he takes his time to type in the Tomlinson family.

There’s about a billion search results and he starts with Wikipedia because despite what everyone says about it being unreliable, every single journalist in the entire world uses it (mostly for the links at the bottom, but it’s the thought that counts).

From there, it’s easy.

When he gets home that night, he watches a few extra interviews with Louis Tomlinson because he can and also because if Niall teases him, he can honestly say it’s for work. He quite likes the first day of his new job.

The second day goes in a similar fashion. He’s looking through information about Queen Johannah’s untimely death when Simon pops in again.

“How is the research going?” Simon asks and Harry has to bite his tongue from saying do you check up on all your new employees or did I just get particularly unlucky?

He’s not usually this rude, he swears. It’s just something about Simon has him feeling very defensive and his feelings are usually spot on so he’ll stick with being defensive, even if it makes him seems strange.

“It’s going well, sir,” Harry answers, nodding towards a pile of papers on his desk. Simon raises an eyebrow before he sits down in the chair that he preoccupied the previous day.

“Interesting,” Simon murmurs and Harry feels a flash of heat that warns him his magic is feeling a bit overzealous today. “Learn anything of particular intrigue yet?”

“Not yet, sir,” Harry replies before shrugging. “I’ve just been doing general background research and watching a few press conferences.”

Simon hums in reply before he motions towards the stack of papers. “Is this all research?”

Harry nods, before reaching over to grab one of the sheets. “Mainly on Queen Johannah,” Harry informs and Simon’s lips press into a firm line but his eyes are kind and not intimidating for once.

“Alright. Keep up the good work. Also, I suggest you start looking into human rights and equality,” Simon advises before he leaves. Harry stares after him in a mixture of relief and confusion.

The voice from the day before murmurs, In a world where everyone is equal, you do not have to hide, young warlock. But as it is, prejudice is a hard thing to overcome.

Harry isn’t sure what to make of that so he firmly ignores it, putting it off as his imagination before he continues on his research. He thinks he’s doing a pretty bang up job. It could be a lot worse, all things considered. He hasn’t got fired yet and that’s miraculous in itself.

He also hasn’t broken anything else with his power, so he thanks his magic for small gifts.

Simon doesn’t stop checking up on him. It goes on for a week, with the man coming in every day just a little after Harry’s lunch break to ask how his work is going.

It’s a little weird and he asks one of his co-workers Ed if that’s something that Simon does. Of course, Ed just gives him a bewildered look and says Simon rarely speaks to any of the employees. Harry thinks he should be more surprised but he isn’t.

Also, he thinks that Simon knows more than he lets on.

He catches the man staring at him with a thoughtful expression often and it makes his skin prickle because there’s no way that his boss could know he has magic. There’s nothing written on his forehead that declares it so he’s most likely just being paranoid.

But when Simon says things like, “Knowledge is power and power is a gift. It comes from within,” or “If only it were so easy to have things done for you in the blink of an eye,” coupled with a pointed look, Harry feels like he might burst out of his skin.

Another thing is that he keeps hearing the same voice in his head, repeatedly at random points during his work hours. It’s never when he’s at home or even going to work. The voice speaks in a strange tongue that feels almost foreign but Harry hears it in English.

He wonders if maybe he’s going crazy—if he’s finally cracked right when he’s gotten his big break. He tries his best not to think things like that because Paul can usually tell right off the bat when Harry starts to feel particularly sullen.

Harry doesn’t get to see Paul as often now with his work hours but he still drops by every single day, even if just to have a short conversation with the man over the counter as he’s preparing something for a customer. Paul seems to know something too because ever since Harry told him about the job, he’s been giving Harry these weird smiles.

Niall is mainly just excited about Harry’s new position and spends most of his time calling Harry a few choice words in the most cheerful manner he can. Harry usually just pouts back, but sometimes he uses his magic to knock his best friend on his backside. He thinks that’s probably the main purpose of them—to keep Niall from getting too obnoxious (he says that in the fondest way that he can).

On the other hand, his magic is useful for when he needs to do research. He learns a spell that lifts words straight off the papers until they swirl around his head and he can read them even while he’s watching various interviews on the Parliament.

He switches between research about the Parliament and humanrights, often finding articles about them together—about how some rights still haven’t been equally acknowledged by Parliament, but despite this, he usually comes back to a stupid video of Prince Louis playing football for charity or Prince Louis helping his little sisters or just anything with Prince Louis.

It’s not an obsession, he swears.

No, it’s more that Prince Louis is incredibly lovely with his sharp wit and charming smile and Harry has had a minor crush on him since he was at least thirteen. Not that it’s relevant.

Once, he goes on twitter to check out Prince Louis’ account and finds disgusting tweets telling him that he isn’t fit to represent the country because he’s a poof or other derogatory words that get worse and worse as Harry scrolls down. After that, Harry makes it his personal job to block and report every single person he sees saying things of that sort. Sue him if he’s a bit protective.

Other than that, he does actually research the other members of the royal family. Queen Johannah’s five children are all interesting in their own ways and Harry finds himself intrigued.

Charlotte, the oldest girl of the family, is secretive—that much is clear. She keeps her head down and doesn’t comment on anything. Harry wonders why that is because none of the other Tomlinsons act that way.

Felicite who is a few years younger than Charlotte seems shy and reserved but then when Harry finds her twitter, it’s clear that she’s anything but that. She’s brash while being sweet and it’s clear she loves her family a lot. He won’t admit to it if asked but he does tear up a little when he sees her tweets from around the time of her mother’s death.

The twins, Daisy and Phoebe are only eleven and Harry feels bad that they’re in the spotlight so often. They don’t seem to mind that much but after the Queen’s death, it’s clear that they’ve both become withdrawn, giving interviewers vicious looks when bothered. On the bright side, with all the interviews that he’s watched he thinks he can tell them apart now. That’s an accomplishment for the books.

After he watches the general interviews and looks through their twitters, he looks up their fanbase because unsurprisingly they have one. There, he learns more about them than interviews could possibly tell him. Within a week, he feels almost as if he knows them and he wonders if maybe he’s taking his job too seriously.

For all he knows, Simon might just tell him to write some bullshit article on Queen Johannah’s death, Louis’ coming out and how the Parliament plays a part in the whole ordeal. He hopes that’s not what Simon’s going to ask him to do.

It turns out he doesn’t have to hope because the next time Simon visits him, he seems to bring important news with him if the huge file he’s carrying is any tip.

“Do you need help, sir?” Harry asks, already standing up but the dark haired man shakes his head, before sitting down in his customary chair. No one else sits in it anyways. Harry’s still the new kid on the block.

“No, I don’t, but thank you Harry,” Simon says, before setting the large manila folder down on Harry’s desk. “I’m going to tell you something few people know about me, alright?”

Harry feels his mouth go dry because what secret could Simon Cowell possibly have to tell him of all people? He can’t think of anything to say so he just nods respectfully.

Simon nods back before, fixing Harry with a thoughtful look. “Well, I’m sure you remember the topics I’ve asked you to research for the last week,” He starts and Harry nods again.

“The Parliament, rights and equality, and the royal family,” Harry lists off and Simon looks amused.

“Right. Well, let’s talk about the first one. Do you by any chance know all the members of the Parliament?” Simon asks, giving Harry an expectant look.

Harry swallows nervously before shaking his head. “No, I don’t. Was I meant to know them? I can learn them if need be,” Harry offers and Simon chuckles.

“That won’t be necessary, Harry,” Simon reassures, before cracking his knuckles absently. Harry winces just as Simon starts to speak again. “Well, there are many subdivisions of the Parliament and many of the members have other jobs as well.”

Harry doesn’t say anything in reply, instead waiting for Simon to get to the point so he doesn’t give himself a heart attack by assuming something he shouldn’t.

“One of them happens to run Direction newspaper,” Simon informs, tone conversational and Harry stills from where he was lightly bouncing his leg.

“But you run Direction newspaper,” Harry says slowly, eyes wide. He’s suddenly very glad he didn’t research anything too incriminating about the Parliament.

“You’re right, I do. I also happen to be a member of the Parliament,” Simon explains and Harry’s mouth falls open a little even though he expected it.

“You—okay,” Harry replies blankly and Simon chuckles again.

“I’m not going to lie, Harry. We’re not the best of people. But many of us—well, let’s just say we possess many gifts and talents much like yourself.”

At that, Harry nearly swallows his tongue. “You mean like my writing skills?” Harry hedges and Simon smirks in a way that does nothing to reassure Harry.

“I think you know exactly what type of skills I’m talking about. But that isn’t the point. Richard Griffiths is the head of the Parliament—he calls all the big decisions and as of right now, Griffiths is refusing to accept equal rights.”

Harry feels a flash of indignant irritation at those words. “He’s refusing to accept equal rights? And the rest of the Parliament agrees with him?” Harry inquires and he knows that his voice sounds accusatory. He isn’t sorry though.

“No, the majority agrees with him. At least verbally they do. Now, I’m sure you can understand why this is a problem,” Simon says and Harry narrows his eyes.

“Well, obviously it’s a problem. Everyone should have the same rights. Like, for example, people should be allowed to have the right to marry whoever they want without facing judgment,” Harry says flatly and Simon purses his lips before shrugging.

“That’s a problem, yes. I agree with you but that’s not the problem I’m talking about. We have bigger issues at hand,” Simon informs and Harry frowns at the older man.

“What could possibly be a bigger issue than the fact that the Parliament is denying basic human rights?” Harry wonders bleakly and Simon sighs.

“The bigger issue is that the Prince of Wales is gay and out of the closet and the Parliament doesn’t fancy having someone who’s… different as the king. There’s a reason the inauguration has been held off for so long,” Simon explains and Harry’s jaw drops in surprise.

“You’re kidding. You’re telling me that Prince Louis isn’t allowed to be king because he’s gay?” Harry splutters in disbelief and Simon nods slowly.

“Not exactly but that’s the basic idea. That’s where you’re going to come in,” Simon says while gesturing towards the folder that’s still on Harry’s desk, right next to his picture of Gemma and his mother.

Harry glances down at it in confusion, before repeating, “That’s where I’m going to come in?”

Simon nods, opening the folder and pointing towards the first page. “You, Harry Styles, are going to be living with the royal family for the next two months, should you choose to accept. There you’ll be writing a detailed report on whether Prince Louis is fit for the throne despite his sexuality.”

Harry literally is staring at Simon in blatant disbelief now. “Excuse me? I’m going to be doing what?”

In response Simon sighs before pushing the folder closer towards Harry. “Don’t look so appalled, Harry. This was the best I could do on such a short notice. I proposed the idea and the majority of the Parliament agreed to give Prince Louis two months where you observe him and determine whether he should become king or not. It was either this or an immediate refusal in which case the next person in line for the crown is Charlotte Tomlinson and she’s only seventeen.”

There’s a brief moment of silence where Harry feels his blood boil under his skin in outrage and his water bottle falls off the table, despite that he wasn’t close to touching it. He can see Simon tracking the movement with his eyes and he feels another rush of irritation.

He opens his mouth to defend himself but Simon cuts him off quickly. “You’re special and you know that. There hasn’t been someone like you in thousands of years. You’re—you were born straight from the fabric of the earth. You’re magic, Harry and we both know it. I can even feel it now. I haven’t felt power like that in a long, long time.”

Harry thinks he’s actually losing his mind now because there’s no other explanation for this. There’s no way Simon can know about him. He hasn’t done anything to tip him off other than the stupid water bottle that’s rolling as his feet now. Simon can’t know—if he does, Harry isn’t sure what that means for himself. If Simon is part of the Parliament, he could be part of the group that kills off people with magic.

He’s going to die.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harry denies quietly, lowering his eyes and he starts tugging absently at his bracelets because it’s a bad habit he does when he gets nervous—it’s either that or pinching himself but he doesn’t think that’ll really help.

“Don’t lie. Some stories have been foretold and yours is one of them. It is your destiny to ensure Prince Louis becomes all that he is meant to be. You’re two sides of the same coin and fate has been waiting a long time for you. Even your magic knows that,” Simon replies, voice unwavering and Harry feels small under his gaze.

What Simon’s saying sounds like a load of shit to Harry but the part about fate sticks in his mind—reminds him the burn he feels too often when things go the right way. “How do you know?” Harry accuses and Simon chuckles heartily.

“Which questions are you asking exactly, young warlock? How do I know about your magic? How do I know of your destiny? How I can feel your magic thrumming with its own heartbeat? There are some questions that cannot be answered. However, if it appeases your mind, you should know that Mr. Higgins is a close friend of mine,” Simon says loftily and Harry starts at that.

“Paul? You both are friends?” Harry wonders and Simon nods.

“That we are. However, that is not important. What is important that you follow the path that fate has set for you. Your story, Harry, is similar to one a millennium ago and I hope that the same cards are not at play again. There is only one other with a magic as strong as yours, albeit his is much stronger. Despite all his magic, he could not save the one that he was meant to. I do not wish the same for you.”

Harry opens his mouth before closing it. He opens it again and then falters for what to say. He settles on, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Then something occurs to him and he narrows his eyes. “But it was you, wasn’t it? In my head this past week?”

Simon gives him a frustrated look. “Yes, it was. That does not matter. What matters is whether or not you will choose to accept your destiny,” He reminds and Harry sighs, leaning an elbow on the table.

“I still don’t know what you’re talking about but what exactly does my destiny entitle?” Harry wonders curiously and Simon’s expression morphs into one of relief.

“Well, first off, you’ll have to accept this assignment. Preparations are ready and all you have to do is sign a few papers which I’m sure your law-studying Irish friend could look over for you and no, don’t give me that look. I know a lot more than you think,” Simon addresses at Harry’s bewildered expression before continuing, “Basically, you will be staying with the royal family for two months and your article will be released to the public when you’re finished. If the general public feels that Prince Louis is fit for the throne, the Parliament will have no choice but to accept him as king.”

Simon gestures pointedly towards the folder again and this time Harry scoots up in his seat so he can glance them over. The papers on top seem to be contracts and Harry knows he’ll have to get Niall to look it over for him, just as Simon said.

“We’re already running low on time. I’m sorry but we can only allow you two months to write the fully information article and if you feel that Prince Louis truly is unsuitable for the throne, include as much but there has to be evidence for everything you say, good or bad. Of course, I’m sure you know this considering how well done your writing is,” Simon explains and Harry feels his cheeks flush at the comment that was probably unintentional on Simon’s part. Even if Simon is a nutcase of some sort and also part of the corrupt government, he still is the CEO of Direction newspaper and he’s the closest thing to an expert at journalism that Harry knows, so the compliment makes him and his magic feel warm.

“I—this is the only way for Prince Louis to take the throne?” Harry checks, running his hand through his hair as he stares at the papers in front of him and he sees Simon nod in his peripheral vision.

“I’m truly sad to say that there is no other way,” Simon confirms and Harry sighs, rubbing absently at his right eye.

“What exactly do I need to do?” Harry presses and Simon lights up like he was expecting the question which he probably was.

“Well, we’ve cleared the floor with the prince’s publicist who coincidentally happens to be his best friend. You’ll be staying with them for two months, as I’ve already said, and you’ll be accompanying the prince nearly everywhere except for on Sundays which are your days off. I don’t suggest you actually leave the palace though but feel free to use that time for yourself. You’ll basically be monitoring the prince’s every move but I suggest you try to make friends with him because it’ll be easier to understand him that way. He’s less likely to be open with some journalist than a friend,” Simon explains but Harry’s mind is stuck on the word palace.

He’s going to be living in Kensington Palace. His life isn’t real right now.

“I do want you to do me a small favor though. Prince Louis—he has four half-sisters all younger than which I’m sure you’re aware of. They’re—they’re special. You’ll see what I mean when you meet them. I want you to keep an eye for them. Pay close attention to them whenever they’re around and just—watch out for them, please?” Simon asks in an encouraging voice.

For once, Harry feels in his realm. He loves children and despite that this is the royal family, he’s sure they can’t be all that different from any other children that he’s met. “Yeah, I can do that,” Harry agrees and Simon’s lips twist into what could probably be a smile if Harry squinted.

“Good. Everything else should be in the papers which you can read over tonight. If you agree to the assignment, please give them in to me tomorrow morning and I’ll make for the arrangements as soon as possible,” Simon informs before he stands up, brushing himself off. Then Harry watches as he bends down and when he gets back up, he’s placing the water bottle Harry dropped accidently earlier.

That raises a question and before he can help himself, he blurts, “Are you like me? Are you a sorcerer too?” just as Simon reaches for the door.

Simon stills before turning and giving Harry an apprehensive look. “The world is woven with magic. You would be surprised how many figures have a quality that others do not possess,” Simon offers before turning back to the door.

“What does that mean?” Harry protests but Simon is gone in five seconds flat.

Harry stares after the door dejectedly before he sighs. His eyes turn gold for a split second before the door slams shut, the noise reverberating through the room.

Then Harry drops his head into his hands and groans. How did he even get into this mess?

He blames Niall. He will always blame Niall. But first, he wants to whine and complain to the blond haired boy. Then he can blame him. It makes sense in Harry’s mind so he’s going to go with it and hope for the best.