Louis pulled out his sheet of parchment, quickly scanning the addresses with his soft eyes. Most of them were crossed out, as he’d hit them up earlier in the day. Who knew that magic shows happened all day, rather than only in the evenings. Regardless, Louis was just happy to be close to finishing. It had been a long week and all he wanted was to sleep. He had one last stop to make before he could retire to his small flat in Brixton, and he couldn’t wait for it to be over.
After graduating Hogwarts, Louis became an auror. It hadn’t been easy qualifying for the position, but it was easily the most fulfilling career Louis could imagine having. He didn’t usually have to deal with the Dark Arts or any of the extremely unscrupulous figures that adorned the wanted posters in the office.
No, Louis Tomlinson, rookie auror that he was, merely monitored muggle exposition to magical activities. Fresh out of training, Louis was eager to please. He hadn’t had much of a chance to prove himself, but if he hoped to move up in rank, he needed to do a good job today.
Today he was supposed to be traveling to various magic shows to ensure that they weren’t wizards in disguise. It was very lucrative for wizards to use their magic to make a living off of naive muggles, but it was definitely illegal and very frowned upon.
Louis repeated the last address under his breath, checking the street numbers to ensure he was at the right place. Finally, after a few more minutes of searching, he found the building he was looking for.
It was a slightly decrepit-looking building, with all the charm of centuries past. It was covered in climbing ivy, and resembled a countryside cottage. Louis thought it was a strange place to hold a magic show, but he wasn’t there to critique the venue. He slipped into the building, easily blending in with the muggles surrounding him.
Entering the main room, he saw a makeshift stage, that looked as if it might just as easily break under foot as it would keep someone elevated. Upon the stage, looking like a renaissance painting, was the magician. He was lanky and looked fresh out of school. His face was handsome, with a delightfully phallic shaped nose and a sharp jawline.
Louis was in awe of the vision before him, and was almost excited to watch him in action. He had such a lively presence, though he hadn’t even spoken, and Louis felt himself inexplicably drawn to him.
The show seemed to be an average run of the mill muggle magic shows, and Louis was oddly relieved. Usually he relished in the opportunity to take some misbehaving fool to the Ministry, but he really didn’t want to send this ridiculous man to jail.
He had been so adorable the whole show, sprinkling lame puns into his routine. The entire crowd rolling their eyes in fond annoyance. Louis wanted to befriend this man, to spend afternoons together lounging in Louis’ flat. He could even picture them sitting out on his balcony, trading soft kisses back and forth.
Halting that train of thought before it could leave the station, Louis focused back in on the magician’s show. The boy, who called himself The Magnificent Harold, was gearing up for his big finale, and Louis could almost feel the audience’s collective excitement in the air.
Harold had been doing magic tricks all night, and Louis, who was decently versed in muggle slight of hand, had easily been able to detect them. However, as Harold began to levitate, Louis was at a loss. He had learned about levitation, and knew how it worked, but this was different. Louis had never seen anything so realistic.
The magician was flying over the audience, doing somersaults as he went. Louis could detect no wires, and longed to pry his wand from his jacket pocket to check for sure. Instead of exposing himself, Louis decided to wait it out. Surely he could figure out whether this man was a muggle or a wizard.
Harold continued to wow the audience by soaring around them, and Louis was at a loss. He could detect nothing of muggle origins in his movement. There was no broom either, which further confounded the man in the audience. His only guess was an accomplice that was using wingardium leviosa in order to keep The Magnificent Harold afloat.
Finally, Harold lands on stage, laying flat on his back, with his hands behind his head. Louis can almost imagine himself straddling the magician. Shaking his head a bit, Louis tries to contain himself. He’s supposed to be a big, badass wizard cop; he’s not supposed to fawn over his latest arrest. Semantics.
After a few moments of stunned silence, Louis jumps into action. He’s got no time to lose, as the crowd of muggles will soon dissipate. He cannot have them leaving the building with the memory of what they’ve seen. He clambers onto the stage rather gracelessly, shouting forgetting spells at anyone who gets in his way.
“ Obliviate ,” he shouts, hitting each and every one of the numerous audience members; making them forget the levitation trick, but letting them retain their memories of the rest of the show. The muggles all look rather dazed from the spell, but begin to file out of the theatre with ease.
As soon as the room has been cleared, he turns easily, suddenly eye-level with an unreasonably attractive jaw. His eyes slowly trailed higher until he was staring into the softest pair of eyes he’d ever seen. The distance had not done them justice, and upon closer inspection they seemed to be a lovely sea glass shade of green. It distracts him enough, that the other man gets the first word in.
“Um,” he coughs a bit, “mind explaining what on earth is going on here, mate?” Louis’ eyes narrow, only slightly distracted by the warm molasses of Harold’s voice. “Why’s everyone frozen? How did you manage that?”
“I should be asking you that, mate .” Louis replies, his voice only slightly biting in its tone. “Jig’s up, Harold , if that is your real name. Go ahead and give me your wand you’re under arrest. Breaking the International Statute of Secrecy is still illegal you know.”
Harold’s eyebrows furrow into each other in the most adorable way, and his nose scrunches enough to make Louis desperate to boop it.
“Wands are so last century. Why the fuck would I have one?” Harold’s face continues to pinch inwards, as he considers the man before him. “Furthermore, most current magicians are into sleight of hand and illusionism. You know Criss Angel and Copperfield-type stuff. But wands? Fuck off, mate. Only party magicians use wands.”
Louis’ head cocks slightly to the right, his eyebrows scrunching together in confusion.
“You have to have a wand. How else would you do the magic you used in your show tonight?” He was convinced this man was just being a twat to stall. He had caught Harold using his magic in an unsanctioned way, and now the man was stalling for time. There was no other explanation of why he would be acting so befuddled at the mere mention of a wand.
This seems to be the straw that breaks the proverbial camel’s back. Harold’s face begins to turn stormy as blood leaves angry, red blotches on his milky skin. It’s almost as if he grows in size, and if he’s being honest with himself, Louis is a wee bit concerned about his own safety.
He hadn’t gotten into a proper brawl in years, and this bloke had large biceps. Biceps that could probably hold a lot of weight up against a wall... Louis immediately halted his thought process. He could not daydream about getting plowed by the man who may or may not be about to punch him.
Harold leaned in close to Louis, looking rather intimidating, despite his soft eyes, and silky curls.
“Listen, punk, I can’t tell you how I do my magic tricks! That’s like the first rule of doing magic. Otherwise every magician will steal your techniques. If you want to do magic, go bother someone else.” Harold leaned back slightly, his arms crossed across his chest.
Louis shakes his head, puffing his chest out and spreading his legs a bit farther to look more menacing. He didn’t become an auror to have some jerk pull a fast one on him. He wasn’t going to let Harold know how slightly afraid, and extremely turned on he was. No way. Louis was better than that, way, way better than that.
“What do you mean want to do magic? You, git, I already know how to do magic!” Louis pulls out his wand, with an exaggerated flourish.
“ Ascendio .” Louis’ voice is soft, as he points his wand directly in the air. His feet slowly begin to lift off the floor, as he floats in front of Harold the Great. Harold, looks absolutely amazed, quickly circling Louis’ floating form. He reaches his fingers out above the other man’s head, searching in vain for a wire.
“How the fuck are you doing that?” Harold asks, stepping back away from Louis, who is slowly floating back down to the stage. Harold’s face shows how perplexed he feels after watching Louis’ trick, and Louis immediately realizes he’s made a mistake.
“Shit, shit, shit , shiiit !” Louis chants, whacking his hand onto his forehead. “You absolute fucking moron,” he mutters continuing his assault on himself. “You really are a muggle, and I have fucked up. God in heaven, I have royally fucked myself.” Louis continues to mutter to himself, as Harold, reaches out a tentative hand.
“Not to interrupt your very public breakdown, but would you mind explaining to me what just happened?” Harold places his hand on Louis’ closest shoulder, and he immediately feels himself beginning to calm down. He’ll just have to obliviate him. It’ll be child’s play. But. Louis feels bad about what he has to do.
The man in front of him is stunning, and just maybe Louis doesn’t want to make him forget. Perhaps he’d like to teach Harold all about the wizarding world, and marry him. His lips look good for kissing, and Louis’ always loved a tall man. He sighs trying to shove those thoughts down. It just won’t do any good, Harold is going to have to forget what Louis accidentally showed him. There’s just no way around it really.
So, with that thought in mind, Louis raises his wand up toward Harold’s angelic face.
“Sorry, Harold, but I’ve got to do this.” Before he can cast the spell, Harold has snatched it out of his hand.
“Hey! You give that back! You don’t even know how dangerous that thing can be.” Louis shouts, as he moves to grab his prized possession back from the great oaf in front of him. Tragically, it seems that Harold has discovered a foolproof method to keep ahold of the wand.
The absolute twat is holding the wand as high as his noodle limb can stretch.
Louis jumps as high as he can, but for some ungodly reason, he still can’t seem to get his nimble fingers on his wand. New tactic then.
He places a well aimed kick to the taller man’s shins, and Harry crumbles like a sack of potatoes.
Glancing around quickly for the wand, Louis realizes that Harry is curled around it, and refusing to let go.
“Oi, what’s it gonna take for you to give me my wand back you lumbering bastard?” Louis adds an extra kick to punctuate his sentence.
Harry curls around himself tighter, and Louis feels only a tiny bit bad about having kicked him. His head pulls away from his knobby knees slowly, like he’s worried Louis’ going to kick him there as well.
“If you promise to accompany me to a cafe and explain all this ‘wizard’ stuff, I’ll let you have it back,” he nods to himself, happy with the terms he’s laid out. Then, before Louis can agree, he shouts out, “Wait, wait, also you aren’t allowed to zap me like you did the audience. I want to keep this knowledge.”
Louis groans, stamping his feet like the petulant child he is, “No, you aren’t allowed to know! I’ll get in trouble if it gets out that I told you.”
With a very soft look on his face, Harold considers the man’s argument.
“Well, I guess I’ll just have to keep my mouth shut then, won’t I? I’d hate to get such a handsome man into trouble,” Harold’s smile grew, and almost became a disarming smirk. “Plus I’m not sure prison would be good to you.” His eyebrows rose comically, and Louis could feel himself reeling back for another kick to the still lounging man.
Rather than channeling his inner frustration at the muggle magician, Louis reached out his hand, to help him get back upright.
“Fine, I agree. You sure do know how to negotiate.” Louis said, only slightly impressed by the other man.
Harold grinned, a squint to his striking eyes, “Well I didn’t spend all that time passing the bar exam for nothing.” He winked at Louis, who was quite surprised.
“Alright Harold, let’s go find a place to divulge both of our life stories, I expect a ton of juicy lawyer details.”
Harold’s eyes narrowed, looking like a slightly put off puppy, “My name’s not Harold, you know. ‘S just my stage name. I’m just Harry Styles.”
Louis paused his steps for a moment, mulling over whether he should share his own name. After a beat too long, Louis decides to trust the magician/lawyer, “Oh, ‘m Louis, Louis Tomlinson. Nice to finally meet you, Just Harry.”
He stuck out his hand for a shake, laughing as Harry groaned at his lame joke, and admired how soft the skin on Harry’s palm was. He motioned towards the exit, watching Harry’s back through the gauzy material of his shirt.
As Harry led the way to his favorite cafe, Louis could feel himself becoming even more enamoured with the multifaceted dork in front of him. Harry was such a strange juxtaposition of goofball and sex kitten, and Louis honestly couldn’t keep up.
Sitting in the small cafe is rather surreal for Louis, as he never thought he would become the law breaker. He’d always been a spitfire in school, playing practical jokes on his friends and enemies alike, but he’d rarely broken any rules.
Or, at least if he did, he never got caught, which was the important part for this exchange. Louis could not get caught telling a muggle about the wizarding world. That was serious stuff.
But, as Louis began the details of his carefully hidden universe, he could see how enraptured Harry was. His eyes were sparkling, slightly squinted from his heavy brow. He seemed equal parts fascinated and disbelieving.
He was resting his elbows on the table, his chin delicately placed on top of his toned forearms. Louis had never seen such a magical looking muggle. It defied logic and understanding that Harry could be so enchanting, drawing Louis in with just the curve of his smile. The way his dimples popped out every time Louis told him something spectacular or new.
Harry was like a perpetual kid in a sweet shoppe, every new tidbit of information caused his eyes to comically widen.
Every few moments he would interrupt Louis with a question, his face showing how enamored he was with the world Louis was from.
“So you’re like a wizard cop?” Harry asks, his eyes wide with disbelief. Louis can’t hold in his glee, cackling loudly into the somewhat crowded cafe.
“I mean I guess?” He continues to laugh, Harry joining him with his loud honk of glee.
After a few moments, the two men’s laughter dissolved, and Louis mimicked Harry’s pose of chin on forearms.
“Well now that I’ve shared all of my sordid tales, I think it’s time you return the favor.” He flutters his eyelashes, smirking at how lovely Harry looks flushed all over as he picks up the double entendre.
With no more prodding needed, Harry begins to recount his life to Louis, who loves it. He’s always found muggles fascinating, how they’ve created so many gadgets and inventions to do things easier. To Louis it almost feels like their own form of magic, as they make life easier for themselves much like wizards.
Harry’s voice is delightfully soft, slowly filling the air around them with syrupy phrases. His stories are long and winding, like an easy Sunday stroll, and Louis could imagine himself listening to this voice for the rest of his life.
It seems like fate to Louis, like the universe has aligned to bring him to the superb beauty before him. He can’t even bring himself to care that this man has stolen his wand and blackmailed him into telling all of his secrets. It’s absolutely ridiculous for Louis to already feel a kinship with the guy across from him and yet he can’t be bothered to try to stop himself.
He feels like the amalgamate of every shitty coffee shop cliche. And when the two of them have spilled their innermost thoughts, and are being shooed out by tired, slightly grumpy baristas, Harry gives the wand back to its rightful owner. Louis smiles, pocketing it away from the cunning man who managed to steal it in the first place.
“We have to meet up again. I’ve got to make sure you aren’t blabbing to the whole world now that you know.” Louis says, trying to downplay his true intentions. There was no way in hell that Louis was going to leave the newly found love of his life without getting a way to check up on him.
Harry pulls a pad of paper from thin air, while reaching behind Louis’ ear for a pencil with his other hand. He begins to write down a string of numbers, while Louis berates him.
“Are you quite sure you’re a muggle? Because quite frankly with all the tricks you’ve been pulling tonight I think you must be a wizard.” Louis grabs the sheet of paper from Harry’s waiting hands, his eyes scanning across the numbers with a hint of confusion in his eyes.
“I’m quite positive. I think if I had any latent magical blood, I’d have met you years ago at that school you were telling me about. Hagwurts was it?”
Louis can feel his eyes rolling in his head at Harry’s butchering of his alma mater.
“It’s Hogwarts, Harold, honestly.” He sticks his tongue out like the child he is, laughing as Harry crosses his eyes in retaliation.
Harry shrugs, unconcerned with his faux pas, “That’s my phone number, Lou. Do you have a phone?”
Louis’ eyes squint as he tries to think about whether he’s got a phone, or what a phone is.
“Um, mate I don’t think I do? What’s a phone?” Louis asks, feeling rather stupid and embarrassed. Harry shoots him a soft smile, trying not to laugh at how precious Louis looks.
Harry grins, pulling his mobile out of his tight jeans, “This is a phone. But, if you don’t have one, we can just meet up here again tomorrow at the same time.”
Louis’ face relaxed, a grin taking over at how kind Harry was being. It made it even harder to leave the cafe and go back to his dusty apartment, but he knew he needed to go.
Before he got the chance, Harry reached out, pulling the smaller man into his chest. Louis melted into Harry’s grip, finally wrapping his own arms around Harry’s muscular back.
As they parted, Louis swore he felt the soft press of lips in his downy hair.
Louis can hear Harry pottering around in the kitchen, making a cake for their first month anniversary. Earlier in the day Louis had tried to help Harry set out ingredients, but after breaking two eggs, and leaving a flour handprint on Harry’s bum, he was exiled to the living room.
He honestly didn’t mind tho. There was a footy match on and Louis loved having Harry waiting on him.
It was rather odd, Louis had the ability to use magic to create a delicious cake for Harry, but Harry wanted to do it himself. Louis found it charming how Harry was such a househusband. He loved to do little chores around the house, and he almost never let Louis help him, no matter how hard Louis pushed.
Eventually he just accepted that chores were a Harry thing, and let it be. Plus he loathed chores, so it was really a win-win situation on all sides.
A few minutes after the game had ended, Louis heard the timer go off on the oven. He quickly slipped off the couch making his way into the small nook of a kitchen. He paused at the entrance, in awe of the man he was lucky enough to call his boyfriend.
Harry was covered in a fine mist of sweat from working over a hot oven, and his large hands were placed in delicate pink oven mitts. He was wearing a white apron, and Louis could still make out his own handprint on Harry’s arse.
He waited until Harry had pulled the cake onto the counter, not wanting to scare him and drop the cake. Harry delicately places the cake on the display tray, and Louis can’t stop himself from wrapping his arms around his boyfriend, placing soft kisses along his shoulder blades.
“The cake is gorgeous, baby.” Louis continues to trail his lips across the skin-warm cotton along Harry’s back. Harry presses back into Louis, leaning his weight against him and leaning his head back to rest on Louis’ shoulder.
This must be what the afterlife feels like, Louis can’t imagine life being better than this moment.
Harry moves out of Louis’ grip after a few moments of peaceful silence.
“What should I put on the cake, darling?” Harry asks, already pulling piping bags from the cupboards.
Louis considers for a moment, before having a brilliant idea.
“Let me decorate it with my magic!” He replies, flashing Harry his most stunning smile. Harry melts a bit, wishing he could say no to the angel in front of him.
With a longsuffering sigh, Harry motions for Louis to do his worst. “Please be careful, Lou, I worked really hard on this cake.” He pouts just a bit, and Louis can’t help but place a big smooch onto his soft, pink lips.
With a flourish of his wand, Louis fills the piping bags with icing and floats them into the air. The bags are filled with different colors, each a pastel shade of the rainbow. Louis is immediately inspired and begins to direct the icing across the cake’s surface to create his image. He can feel Harry’s gaze heavy on him, and turns to smile at him.
“No peeking, mister. I want you to be surprised, amazed, and awed by my artistic abilities.” Louis cackles as Harry rolls his eyes in response. But, he closes his eyes, placing his large hands over them to prevent peeking. Louis grins, “there’s a lad.”
After a few minutes of amiable silence, Louis floats the bags back down onto the countertop. He leans forward to inspect his handiwork, his smile taking over his face in pleasure.
“Haz, Haz! Look at our anniversary cake!” Louis shouts, jumping up and down slightly in glee. Harry uncovers his eyes turning toward the cake in question. His eyes grow in size as he takes in the adorable drawing before him.
The background is a soft buttercup yellow, with a rainbow spanning the length of the cake. Then across the middle of the circular cake like a banner is both of their names in light blue-green icing. Harry is so struck by how cute the cake is that he almost misses the way the words seem to sparkle and shimmer as they move slightly on the cake.
“It’s beautiful Louis,” Harry replies, his voice soft and full of awe, “I love you.” Harry slaps his hand over his mouth, not planning to drop that bomb so soon.
Louis face lights up, as he rushes forward to pull Harry’s hands from his mouth. He leans in, giving Harry the softest kiss he can muster, trying to push every ounce of love he feels for him into his kiss.
“I love you too, Harry.”
After a few months of pestering Harry, Louis has finally convinced his clumsy boyfriend to get on a broomstick. Harry, muggle that he was, was not too keen on getting on the broom.
“What if it knows I’m a muggle and drops me, Lou?” Harry had asked, his eyes wide in fear. Louis had sighed, too in love to really be bothered.
“It won’t drop you, Harry, I promise. I’m going to show you what to do and if you fall it’ll be by your own hand.”
Harry had not looked too pleased by that reply, but had finally agreed to let Louis teach him to fly.
After many days of instruction and a couple of practice runs, Louis felt Harry was ready to try his hand at flying by himself. Then once he had that down, they could begin to learn the game of quidditch.
Louis adored quidditch and had been a seeker when he was at Hogwarts. His last two years he had been the Slytherin team’s captain and had lead them to winning the Quidditch Cup back to back.
Watching carefully, Louis monitored Harry’s slow descent into the air. He was mildly impressed, but continued to keenly watch his boyfriend.
Harry seemed to be doing a great job, slowly ambling through the warm, summer sky. He flew like he spoke, and Louis was endeared by it.
Shouting encouragements up into the air, Louis took a break to soak up a few sunrays. As it was summer, it was the perfect time to even out his tan, and he trusted Harry to take care of himself.
After what felt like less than ten minutes, Louis heard an indignant squawk, and quickly sat up, his eyes darting for Harry. With a gasp of surprise he located him hurtling toward the ground, and before he could grab his wand, Harry had landed with an unfortunate sounding thud.
Louis quickly runs to his baby’s side, quickly pulling him into his arms.
“Are you okay, Harry? Are you hurt?” He asks, turning Harry’s head to face him. Harry looks skittish and there’s a dirt smudge on his left cheek. Louis softly brushes the dirt from his face, and places a soft kiss to his forehead.
“Looouuu, I told you the broomstick was going to drop me when it figured out I was a muggle.” Harry replied, bypassing Louis’ questioning with a pout on his face.
Sighing in relief, Louis helped Harry get up, letting Harry lean all of his weight as they walked toward his house.
“Come on you oaf, let’s get you into the house. Gotta clean up your war wounds from fighting my broomstick.” Louis said laughing as Harry tried to smack him with his free arm.
After pulling himself onto the counter in the bathroom, Harry gestured to the cabinet below the sink.
“My first aid kits down there, Lou.”
Louis smiled, reaching down for the kit and placing it beside Harry on the countertop. He pulled out antiseptic cream and bandages, laying them out for use.
He takes stock of Harry’s injuries, before quickly cleaning and covering them. Then he leans up to kiss Harry’s forehead again, before kissing each of his scuffed knees and the gash across his palm.
“No more flying for you for a while, Hazza. I can’t bear to lose such precious cargo.” He punctuates his sentence by kissing Harry on the lips. Harry pulls away after a few moments, hiding his head in Louis’ neck.
“You’re a sap, Louis Tomlinson. A big sap.” Louis nods, he’s always had a soft spot for beautiful boys with curls.
After dating for three years, Harry finally brings up moving in together. They agree to move somewhere in North Yorkshire, and make plans to end their leases.
They’d found a simple cottage with a few spare rooms, and a gorgeous garden. The outside was a beautiful cream color, and the trim was a lovely, warm red.
After weeks of packing, and unpacking, and decorating, and redecorating, both men had made the place their home. It smelled like warm cinnamon and English rain, and Harry was thoroughly pleased with his expert candle choices. He had just walked around the living room lighting each of his candles and the room was covered in soft candlelight.
Louis walked in, still slightly damp from his shower. His eyes scanned the room, noting how candles covered almost every flat surface in the room.
“Do you have enough candles, Harry? Because I’m not sure you have every space covered. I think we could fit at least twenty more candles in here, babe.” Louis said, laughing at how pinched Harry’s face became in response.
“If you get to cover every inch of our walls in quidditch posters, I think I should be allowed to fill the house with my candle collection. At least my candles don’t make awkward eye contact with me every time I change.” Harry rests his hands on his pudgy hips, his eyebrows scrunching down in frustration.
“Oi, don’t talk shit about my idols like that.” Louis matches Harry’s pose, his eyes equally as stormy.
Harry sighed, blowing a few of his candles out.
“I’ll make you a deal, Lewis. You take down some of your posters, and I’ll put a some of these candles in storage.” Harry said, trying to mediate their petty argument.
Louis nodded reaching out for his lovely boyfriend, “Okay, Harry, but only for you because I love you.” Harry sighed snuggling into Louis’ neck.
“Thank you for compromising, my perfect and handsome lover.” Louis giggles as Harry kisses up his neck, across his sharp jaw, and to his parted lips.
Louis places a well aimed smack to Harry’s arse cheek, “Come on lover boy, let’s take this make-up session to the bedroom.” Louis raised his eyebrows comically, Harry’s laughter echoing down the hallway.
Louis wakes up one morning to a cold bed, he rolls over trying to find his missing boyfriend. The other side of the bed is rather cool to the touch, and Louis knows immediately that his fiance is outside tending to his garden. Louis loves that Harry enjoys working with his hands, especially because Louis knows how good he is with them.
Slowly, Louis makes his way out of the bed, and out into the garden. He leans against the facade of the house, watching as Harry digs his fingers into the rich dirt, preciously tending to the small plants in the makeshift garden.
Harry glances up, smiling as he takes in his sleepy soft fiance. He gestures to Louis, patting the ground beside him.
“I’ve added some little guys to the garden today. It’s the perfect time of year to plant valerian, and I know how you like your sleeping draughts.” Harry says motioning to the tiny buds of valerian growing in it’s new home.
Louis smiled leaning into Harry and hugging him around his neck.
“You’re the best fiance ever. I didn’t even know you knew how to make sleeping draught!” Harry turned pink under the praise, smiling from ear to ear.
“I’ve been reading through your old textbooks, Lou. I figured our children are going to be little witches and wizards, and I’d like to be able to know about what they’re learning.”
Louis’ face lit up at the mention of having their own children running around the house learning about magic, and making messes. It was everything Louis had ever wanted, and hearing that Harry wanted it too was icing on top of an already amazing cake.
“You’re going to be the best Dad to our children, and I for one can’t wait to give you as many as possible.” Louis leaned in to kiss Harry, cradling his head with soft fingertips.
Harry opened his mouth easily, letting Louis take control of the kiss. He lets out a soft noise, as Louis’ tongue maps out the contours of Harry’s mouth.
Louis pulls back, feeling lightheaded and floaty.
“I’m going to give you all the babies you can hold, baby.” Louis says, watching how Harry’s face lights up thinking of their future together.
Louis sighs, it’s late September, and his children have already left for the new school year. Harry is lying beneath him on the couch. The house is eerily quiet, and Louis can’t believe that all four of their children are finally old enough to go to Hogwarts. It feels like just yesterday that Harry was taking his hand in matrimony, and now they’re babies are well on their way to adult witches and wizards.
On the table is a letter from their youngest child, Rose. She’s their softest child, but can hold her own amongst her older brothers. The letter was full of exclamation points and glee at her sorting. She had been sorted into Hufflepuff, much to the chagrin of her Slytherin brothers. Louis was happy that she was enjoying her house, and Harry was elated that his precious baby was a Hufflepuff. Harry had a kinship with that house, and he admired their traits, so hearing Rose was going to be a badger, made him infinitely proud.
Louis twisted around a bit, burrowing further into Harry’s arms under the downy blanket covering them.
“I’m so proud of our brood, Harry. They’re all at school getting an education. Can you believe Rose is already eleven? I feel like time is just slipping us by, I miss our babies.” Louis’ eyes are slightly misty, and he feels like a big sap for crying about his children growing up. It’s ridiculous really, because their oldest, Will, is going to be a sixth year and it won’t be long until he moves out.
Harry pulls his husband into his chest, softly stroking his feathery hair. He tries to rock him as much as he can from his vantage point, wanting to sooth his husband.
“It’s okay baby, won’t be long and we’ll be getting grandkids. And if you can’t bear to wait that long we could always get a dog. I know how much you love dogsitting for Ms. Hoppe’s schnauzer.” Harry smiled, continuing to scratch at Louis’ scalp to calm him down.
“You’re right, Hazza, I’m just being an overprotective dad. Don’t want to let go of my babies and accept that they won’t need me anymore.” Louis sighed, a frown prominent on his face.
"They’ll still need you, darling, they’ll need both of us. Just because they aren’t your babies anymore, doesn’t mean that they don’t love you and count on you.” Harry manoeuvred around until he was spooning Louis from behind.
“Now come on, the commercials are over, and we’ve got a bake off to watch.” Louis nodded, turning his attention back to the screen with a softer expression.
“I love you, Harry. I love you so much it hurts, and I’m so glad I obliviated your audience that night. Needed collateral damage to win your heart.” Louis reaches for Harry’s hands, pulling them up to kiss softly.
“I’m glad you did it too, even if it ruined my income for a month. You were well worth the trade.” Harry replies, placing a delicate kiss into Louis’ unstyled hair.
It was like fate, their meeting, like the universe aligned and pushed them together. Harry couldn’t have been more happy that it had brought them together. He couldn’t imagine his life without the spitfire wizard in his arms.