Styles’ Residency, Holmes Chapel
Harry is two when he discovers the sharp shiny object in his backyard while playing with his lego set. His chubby fingers carefully lift the piece as he cleans it with the loose end of his t-shirt. He rotates it and moves it slightly to see what it is and jumps back when he sees his own reflection staring back at him.
Concluding that it’s just a piece of broken mirror he keeps it safely in his toy box and resumes playing with the legos. Hardly able to form sentences by the age, he shouts out the only words he thinks he needs for a happy life after having done with his game.
Anne saunters out of the back door, her hair in a messy bun and picks up the little baby cooing over his big achievement at completing the lego house. Harry grins with a wide smile, dimple popping in full force and embraces her mother tightly while she bends down to pick up after the mess that’s left on the ground. She dumps all the toys in the big box and carries her cute little son and the box inside, the broken piece of mirror long forgotten.
Tomlinson Mansion, Doncaster
Louis Tomlinson is not a fussy child as much as he is a sassy and obnoxious little shit. Being the sole heir to Britain’s richest pureblood family has its privilege. Draped in a green silk robe, Louis runs towards the old wooden door that is locked on most days. However, finding it unlocked and unguarded gives him an opportunity to explore the room that’s forbidden for all kids in the family. Louis thinks differently, he believes since he is the eldest amongst his siblings, he can mess around a little and is allowed to find the secrets of the room. After all, he is 4 years old, and that is a lot more than how old Lottie is, the little ball turning 1 next month.
Sneaking through the small gap between the doors, Louis enters the secret room that he had wanted to go since the moment he came to know about it. Trying to focus his sight in the dark room, he realizes that the room is filled with cabinets and shelves with numerous objects, some small, some big, some metallic, some gold, some silver and some wooden. His eye sparkle with excitement as he moves around to have a closer look at all the different new objects, his eye finally landing on a mirror frame that’s broken from the side. Something like green flashes from inside it and Louis jumps back having not expected any kind of movement in the dark room.
He calms down after breathing for a minute or two and picks up the mirror again. Nothing, blank, his own reflection taunts back at him as he realizes that it is just a broken piece of mirror, and not exciting at all. As he moves to keep it back to its designated spot he hears movement outside the door. Clutching the mirror in his hand he moves behind the door to hide from whoever it is outside. He sees a shadow of a big man entering the room, and realizes that it’s his father Mark who looks like he is in a bit of a hurry by how he moves with quick steps.
Seeing his father move inside, Louis walks out of the door with slow, careful steps and runs back to his room once outside. He locks the door of his room and realizes with panic that he is still clutching the broken mirror. Thinking it’s useless since it’s already broken he decides that no one will miss it from the darkroom and hangs it on the nail poking out on the wall just above his study table. He rushes out soon after when he hears his mother call out to him for supper.
Harry has always been a heavy sleeper, Anne says that the child can sleep through an earthquake without batting an eyelash. Which is why he sleeps in his own room at such a young age, a baby monitor next to his bunk bed that he doesn’t share with anyone, not even with his sister Gemma. He sleeps alternately on the bottom bunk and the top so that neither of them feel left out. He is most definitely a sensitive kid and considers that everything has feelings, living or not, the concept lost in the 21st century.
Today Harry is sleeping on the bottom bunk, dreaming about meadows and ice-creams when he sees a blinding light from the corner of his closed eyes. He jerks awake and finds his room now well lit by this strange light coming from his toy box.
He thinks he is about to meet aliens because the light coming from the box is too strong for common human population and their inventions. He tries to hold his breath so as to throw off the aliens that have most definitely come here to capture him. The light flickers and wavers in the meantime and he hears a sound coming from the same place. It’s a woman’s voice shouting something that he cannot understand. The only word that he can make out in the chaos is “LOUIS.”
Harry thinks about the word, maybe it’s a planets name? or It’s a form of greeting. He makes several different scenarios in his head where he is to repeat the word in order to save the world from the blinding light and women like voiced aliens. Everything calms down after a while and the room dissolves into its natural state of darkness and the red glow from the baby monitor. He tries sleeping after that after concluding that he won’t be eaten by those aliens after all, but by then he can’t go back to sleep no matter how hard he tries. Giving up all pretence of sleeping, he gets up and goes to the washroom. He thinks he hears sounds of someone sniffling but decides against it as aliens most definitely don’t cry. The sound only gets louder as he comes back from the washroom and he realizes that it’s coming from the same toy box.
He sprints to his bed and gets under the blankets to keep the aliens away, but the sound doesn’t stop. Being the kind-hearted boy that he is, he decides that he cannot leave the alien crying alone in his dark toy box and he should at least check if the alien is not physically hurt or something. Moving with soft footing, he peers into his toy box and finds himself looking at the broken glass from the afternoon. This time though the mirror does not show him his own reflection like it did back in the afternoon. He hears the sniffling sound again and realizes that he is looking at a hige room with a boy sitting on a big bed covered in a green duvet. This boy is not an alien and that’s enough for Harry to pick up the piece of mirror and peer around the room closely. He thinks he sees a paper aeroplane that he loves making using Gemma’s school supplies, however, this aeroplane is not the usual one that he makes, because this aeroplane is flying, on its own, hovering over the set of children’s book on the study table. He looks carefully and realizes that the pictures in the books are moving, which cannot be true, so he rubs his eye and looks again. The pictures are still moving and he decides that maybe the boy is an alien after all and just looks like humans; because he has never seen pictures move, or paper planes fly on their own. His trance is broken when he hears the sniffling again and he ends up blurting, “You okay?”
The boy in the mirror looks up trying to find the source of the sound, having not expected anyone to look at him cry like a small baby. He looks around the room trying to locate the sound when his eye finally meets Harry’s. Harry sucks a deep breath having caught off guard with how beautiful the blue eyes are, and shakes his head to peer closely into the mirror.
Supper is always fun for Louis, especially because he gets to choose what to eat from different varieties of food. He shoves his mouth with a cupcake instead of going for the vegetables like his mother asks him to and fills his plate with even more sweets. His mother gives him an annoyed look but doesn’t say anything else busy talking to his father about some kind of locket. He tunes out his parents and eats up everything that’s on his plate and reaches for more. This time his father looks at him and sternly says, “Louis, eat something healthy, you are a big boy and you need more than just sweets.”
Louis huffs at it and ignores the comment and fills his plate for another round of cakes. He reaches out for the spoon to poke at the fluffy delight when the plate disappears and is instead replaced by another plate full of red beans and steak. He looks at his plate with tears in his eyes and throws away the spoon with a loud noise and runs to his room. Slamming his door with a loud noise he jumps on the bed ignoring the sound coming from outside the room. He is angry, he is very angry, his father had no right to use his magical powers to force him to eat things that he didn’t want. If only he could do magic, he would show him, he would then make piles of cupcakes and pastries and no one will be able to do anything about it. He starts thinking about it and concentrating on the cupcakes that he will make in the future. He hears loud banging noise from where the door is and realizes it is on fire. His eyes widen in fear seeing the blinding light in the otherwise dark room. He moves back towards the other end of the bed when his mother pushes the door open. She runs to him asking if he is alright, while he catches his father trying to extinguish the flames with wands in his hand from the corner of his eyes. He starts shaking violently when his father breathlessly chants the “aqua eructo” spell and a spout of water emerges from the tip of his wand to extinguish the flame.
He doesn’t understand much after that and only hears her mother frantically calling out his name as everything blacks out.
He must have slept for hours or maybe minutes, he can’t really say as he comes back to consciousness with his mother smothering him with kisses all over his face. His father standing beside the bed looks at him with soft eyes as he apologizes to him for using magic to force his will on him. He then adds about how scared they were when they saw that he had lit the door on fire when he came back to his room.
His eyes widen in shock as he realizes he was the one who caused the huge fire. Although an accident, he is now scared to think about what real magic would feel like when he is a grown up and is allowed to use a wand.
His parents console him for a while after which they bid him goodnight to go back to their room. Louis waits for the lights to go off in the hallway before he starts crying. Not only did he not get his favourite food for dinner, but in addition, he got into a fight with his father and lit his door on fire. He regrets wanting to use magic as he is now very much aware of how much trouble it can cause and how dangerous it is. He tries controlling the tears that keep on flowing from his eyes but they just won’t go away. He tries controlling his breathing like his mother had taught him to whenever he went into a crying fit, but nothing helps. He is still sobbing uncontrollably when he hears it, “You okay?”, someone says.
The voice is sweet and he snaps his head trying to find the person who said it. He looks all around the room when his eyes finally lands on the mirror hanging above his study table. A green piercing eye looks through it and his eye widen in shock having not expected this.