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Violet Quarters was one of of the biggest mental rehab center’s in London, housing some of the most insane psychopathic murderers, nursing them back to sanity- all at the hands of the head doctor- Louis Tomlinson. He was only a mere 26, and held some certain knack, some certain thing that his patients clung to.

It was February 11th when they brought in one of their most notorious patients yet. The night was clad like an oil slick upon the pristine and polished medical campus. A thick snowfall held onto gutters and roads like a death sentence, and his breath hung on the air like a white ghost in front of his mouth.

Surrounded by 5 officers, he was escorted into the large glass front doors to Violet Quarters, his eyes downcast with a small snide smile on his plump lips. Everyone looked up at the boy, only 17, sauntering through the lobby.

He was accused of the rape and grotesque murder of seven people, ranging from young boys, to middle-aged women. Although there was limited evidence and limited suspects, they charged him with those counts, but being redirected from the death penalty on plead of insanity. It went through easily- there was something about the boy, so arrogant- so incredibly intelligent and different. His personality was compared to that of Hannibal Lectur.

He looked up under his long lashes that held a few snowflakes, his glossy, bloodshot eyes were near mocking clad in a mesmerizing emerald.

People expect murderers and rapists to be heinous looking people, with greasy mops of long hair and pedophilia looking mustaches- and perhaps that was what was so off-putting about him, his beauty. Long and lanky, milky skin and mops of curls- he looked like any teenage girls dream.

And as he sauntered through the lobby, he ran his tongue along his pearly enamels, winking at the trim little desk clerk, who’s face drained of color and eyes diverted quickly.

A firm yank of his arm form one of the officers escorting him had him chuckling, “Eyes forward, Styles.”

“I’m in the institution now, what am I gonna do- stare someone to death?” He bitterly spat with a snide cat grin, eyebrows raising. “Plus, you are just throwing me in here because you have no one else to accuse.”

“We know you did it, now shut the fuck up and be good or you’ll be sitting in the electric chair in no time.” One of the officers spat before shoving him into his room, where he stumbled in and had the door heavily shut behind him with the dreadful noise of the deadbolt snapping closed.

The room was quiet- achingly quiet, and cold. The walls were a dull grey, with a large, iron grated window out looking rolling, white hills. A narrow, stark white bed sat in the corner- the sheets were stiff and itchy. But with all of this change, he just sighed, going to lean his forehead against the window to watch a bird hop from icy gutter to icy gutter.


“Harry Styles.” A tall redheaded woman tutted with an affectionate smile on her face as she propped open his room door, the boy’s sullen eyes turned to her and a big grin tugged up his dimples. She glanced down at the clipboard in her hands, shifting so that the door rested open on her hip.

“Time for your first meeting with Dr. Tomlinson.” She waved him to follow her, and he nodded, clambering up swiftly from his bed and plodding after her. The low draping white t-shirt and sweatpants he was given to wear hung loosely on his bird-boned body, and he found himself constantly pulling up his pants.

The halls were narrow and lined with doors just as his, and one sharp right turn brought them into a much wider hall with marble floors and elevators, cushy looking chairs and couches, and one big, black grand piano in the center.

“Excited?” The woman inquired over her shoulder, sliding a card through a reader by the end elevator.

“Ecstatic.” Harry drawled out, piquing a brow with a bemused sigh as the elevator doors swung open and they stepped in. “Not going to cuff me?” He asked, waving his free wrists in front of her face. She just gave him a long look, rolling her eyes, before pressing the floor number 4 and it began to rise.

When presented to the large metal doors to what Harry assumed was Dr. Tomlinson’s office, the woman turned to him, nodding her head once before opening the door for him and waving him in.

This room was drastically different to the rest of Violet Quarters; it was spacious and warm, walls a deep chocolate and furnished with one leather love seat and one leather recliner. Harry’s eyes scanned the room for whatever therapist was going to assess him and ‘aid him to mental health’. The thought made Harry blow out a long sigh and roll his eyes.

He stood there for exactly one minute and 12 seconds when a voice came from the silence, “Have a seat over there.” Harry turned his head in the direction it came from and sure enough there stood a petite man with efficiently styled hair, golden skin, arched brows, and clad in white chinos was a delicious looking ass and thighs.

Harry didn’t feign from letting his eyes drift the man head to toe, before pursing his lips and sitting on the leather couch. The man sniffed, before shifting the blue mug in his hand and striding to sit in his very worn recliner. His eyes also unabashedly traveled Harry’s body- nothing lustful- just assessment Harry assumed.

“Did Wendy escort you to your liking?” He questioned, shifting in his seat, making the leather groan.

Harry threw his head back with a suppressed laugh as he also assumed Wendy was the redhead. “What? Compared to ass hole cops, sure.”

The doctor didn’t bat an eye, “Good, good. Well,” he sighed, leaning forward and tapping his finger on the rim of his mug, “I am Dr. Tomlinson. Mind starting this session off for me with telling me your name and why you think you are here?”

Harry let out a little keen, “Well, Louis, I’m sure you already know my name so why waste time on that?” He piqued his brows as the man shifted again in his seat at the usage of his first name. “And I’ll tell you why I’m here- I’m here because,” he inhaled deeply with a wicked smile as he leaned forward in his chair, massive hands resting on his knees, “because the world believes I’m some sick child molester and murderer.”

He leaned back, pressing a long index finger to his lips, “And let me tell you, those are false pretenses, Louis. I’m much more than that.” He grinned, looking at him through suggestively gleaming eyes.

“Oh?” Louis inquired, raising his mug to his lips to take a small sip. “Do tell, Harry.”

“You see it started out when I was about 13.” Harry ran a hand through his curls, sighing. “It started when I was bored, very very bored. So I took the kitchen cleaving knife and walked around the neighborhood. I killed our neighbor’s cat- and you see, I didn’t know why I did it at first- I just knew it felt good.” He ran his tongue over his teeth, “I knew it felt good like it does when you’re wanking and you come real hard. To see something I slaughtered laying before me- that’s a sign of a psychopath.”

He studied the way Louis again shifted uncomfortably in his seat, watching the way his adam’s apple bobbed- but his eyes did not show fear. Harry grinned at that. “So after that I kept it up, kept killing random animals, harvesting their flesh and skin and then I grew bored.”

He tutted, tapping his finger on his lips as he shook his head, pausing just to stare straight at the man, who held his gaze just as easily. “So I moved onto children.” He smiled simply, studying his nail beds. “Little boys, really. I liked how innocent they were.” Harry internally wondered if Louis was going to stop him, but to no surprise, he didn’t. “So I.. bought some rope.. drove down to Winchester and found a boy on a playground, coaxed him to follow me to the woods, tied him up and raped him.” He sniffed, blinking.

“Raped him then slaughtered him with no mercy- as I did the cats and dogs before him.” He laughed as though he was telling some cheesy joke, and it only furthered when he saw the color drain from Louis’ face. “Then I got bored with the innocence and took on their whore mothers.” Harry leaned forward, studying Louis’ prominent cheek bones and pretty lips, pretty cerulean eyes which were averted. When the room grew sufficiently quiet, Harry burst into loud, tremulous laughter.

“You believed it, didn’t you?” He wheezed, running his hands through his hair, “That whole shit storm of a story was a lie you prick.” Louis gripped his mug tighter, his brows knitting together.

“Harry, to reach mental stability, you have to stop with the story telling- if that’s what it is.” He spat.

“You’re pretty, y’know that Lou?” Harry smiled, running his finger along his bottom lip as he again studied his features. His cheeks alighted in a flame of pink and he diverted his eyes, clearing his throat.

“That has nothing to do with the task, Harry. Now tell me, what makes you so innocent?” Louis still couldn’t look him in the eye anymore, “What makes me want to believe that you in fact didn’t do everything you just told me?”

The boy simply stared at him with a little smile on his lips that brought out his dimples, a very innocent looking boy. A few moments passed, and Louis grew increasingly uncomfortable. “How old are you, Louis?”

The man squirmed underneath his gaze now, finally looking at him dead in the face, “That doesn’t matter- Harr- now listen to me..”

“25-26?” Harry inquired, cocking his head. “26 I bet.. I also bet you like cock.” He grinned with a harsh laugh that had Louis standing up from his chair with a bewildered look on his face.

“I think we’re going to have to re-schedule your session for another day.” He chanted quickly, pointing at the door and striding to his phone, rapidly keying out numbers and saying something quickly into the receiver Harry just watched him with an idyllic smile.

“Fine with me, Lou.” Harry sighed, standing up, which had the man flinching.

“Don’t call me that, address me as Dr. Tomlinson, Harry.” He bleated, tapping his fingers nervously on the back of his chair.

“Are you nervous?” Harry laughed as he sauntered across the floor to the man who was cowering back, the tendons in his neck tensed and eyes diverted. Harry walked up to him and until he was flush against him, his lips ghosting along the shell of his ear.

“No, Harry. Please stop or I’ll have to call security.” He murmured out sheepishly, pressing the heel of his palm into the boy’s chest to push him away.

“Why are you so afraid? I didn’t rape or kill those people..” He purred, running his fingers up the man’s biceps.

“I’m finding that hard to believe.” Louis muttered, pushing him further away. Harry blew out of his nose, rolling his eyes with a lilting grin.

“Okay, Lou. I’ll convince you sooner or later.” He tutted, before backing away to turn and be greeted by the door opening and Wendy looking at him with a discriminatory look.

“What?” He flailed out his arms with a wicked grin, and she just rolled her eyes.

“Come on, trouble.” She laughed, guiding him out into the hall, where he looked over his shoulder to see Louis leaning against his chair, staring at the floor.


Louis was hunched in his office’s restroom, leaning against the cool tile as his hand worked his length sloppily, his head lolled forward as his breath heaved out in little pants. He needed the release, he didn’t know why, but it was persistent.

He could feel the heat pooling in his stomach, and he searched for something to pull him over the edge, letting his mind search idly to turn him on.

Involuntarily, he thought of Harry, and his wicked smile and arrogant aura, and his stomach flipped. His eyes squinted shut hard as he tried to leech those thoughts out and replace them with something else, but it kept slipping back, his hand movements becoming erratic and sloppy.

Harry with his plump lips attached to his neck and pounding into him, the slap of skin on skin, guttural moans and hands in his hair.

Louis’ mouth flew open with a sliding moan as he came so hard his knee’s trembled and threatened to buckle beneath him. His chest heaved and he just leaned against the wall, before the reality of what he just did slapped him in the face and he buckled to his knees and began to sob.


Louis was one of the most respected of his kind, and he was used to nursing and aiding broken minds, but he had never come into contact with someone as cunning and intelligent as Harry in the 4 years he worked at Violet Quarters.

That was one of the reasons he was so hesitant to reschedule his session, and made it as far as he could afford without being chastised by his boss severely.

So it was a week before he saw him again, and when he did, he had to mentally prepare himself- the irony almost staggering.

Harry walked into his office, wearing the same thing he had been last week. Louis stood at the very back of his office, watching him closely. The boy waved at him with another wicked smile on his face as he sank into the couch.

“Miss me?” He teased, with no reply from Louis, who just slowly made his way to his chair.

“Since you’re so… advanced, Harry. I’m going to have to take a different approach at the very.. apparent problem you have.” Louis sighed, tapping idly on his knee, before piquing a brow and looking at the boy, who crossed his legs properly.

An expectant silence filled the room, “Well… take a stab.” Harry grinned, tilting his head.

“We have to start at the stem of the problem, where it all started. Whether or not you murdered and raped those people, you obviously have some things dug deep inside of you.” Louis chose his words carefully, staring at the rug when he was finished.

Harry just blinked, sighing again. “Okay?”

Louis looked up at him, expecting some out of context question or sexual facade, but nothing came and he shifted, looking down at the clipboard in his hands.

“Can you tell me about your childhood, Harry?” He looked up over the brim of his glasses expectantly, studying how he blinked several times before licking and dragging his teeth along his bottom lip. “And please sustain from story-telling, the faster you tell the truth, the faster you’re out of here.”

Harry just laughed, re-crossing his legs and folding his hands neatly in his lap. “Well, Lou.. where to start, where to start.” He sniffed, snapping his teeth together , “My dad was a dick. Nearly every night I could hear him raping my mom. Then he left when I was about 10.. My mom was pretty fucked up after that, became an alcoholic, occasionally beat me when she too haggard to tell what the hell she was doing.”

Harry’s facial expression changed, his eyes were lowered and muscles tense. Louis could tell he was telling the truth. “Did that transfer into violence, did those experiences make you angry, Harry?”

He looked up from the floor with an awed look, a broken smile parting his lips, “To fucking hell they did. Wouldn’t it make you angry?” He sniffled, rubbing his nose with the hem of his shirt, exposing his bare torso underneath, hosting not just a toned and flat stomach, but several bruises and scars.

“What did you do when you were angry?” Louis inquired tentatively, feeling a pang of sympathy in the pit of his stomach.

Harry grew quiet for a moment, staring at his hands that had several puckered scars on their knuckles. “Punched holes in my wall, cut myself until I made sure I could feel still.” He rubbed his hands together, sighing. “You see, those experiences merely numbed me, made me into some inhuman thing.”

He looked over at the large window in the corner of the room, watching the snow blister by. It was achingly quiet again, and bloated moments passed before he spoke again. “I would get so angry, I’d just auto-erase my memory of anything bad I did.” He smiled through his burning eyes, before he looked over at Louis, and rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palm.

“So I guess I don’t know what I’ve done, really…” He blinked once, and in that moment, he was back- old Harry, wicked, cunning and arrogant. He grinned toothily and leaned back into the couch.

“Well, Harry…” Louis croaked out, clearing his throat, “You’ve gone through some shit. It’s going to take a bit of effort to get you stable again, and to figure out the things you’ve done in your haze of anger.” He smiled sullenly, pushing his glasses up the brim of his nose.

Harry didn’t affirm this, just stared at him, that wicked smile still on his lips- dimples and all. “When did you lose your virginity, Louis?”

The man gulped, his chest up breaking out in scarlet, and he again cleared his throat. “Harry.” He warned.

“Bet it was to a cock, too.” He laughed hoarsely.

“Harry, stop that immediately.” Louis sheepishly cawed, dropping his hands in his lap.

A pregnant pause again filled the silence, “I bet you wanked to the thought of me.” Harry grinned, his eyes alighting with certainty as Louis’ breath hitched and he looked at the floor.

“I’ll see you tomorrow Harry.” He croaked, pointing at the door, “Leave.”


It was the same day that Harry couldn’t take it any longer, and the idea hatched rather easily and the plan was set. During their ‘commons’ time, where they were brought down to the commons area to waist their time together- all of the mental patients.

Harry sat in the back of the room, playing Chess with himself when he glanced up under his lashes at Wendy, who strode over to loom over the boy.

“Hey, bud.” She smiled at him, and in all honesty, Harry had grown fond of the woman- she was the only person in this hell hole that seemed genuine.

He tilted his head to make note of her presence, and she patted the top of his head, before turning on her heel and beginning to walk away.

And just like that, Harry reached out and snatched the ID card from her belt and hid it between his thighs. She walked away, perfectly unfazed and oblivious.

Harry wasn’t ignorant, and knew he would never make it out of here with her key-card, the front doors were guarded and the halls lined with cameras. But he did no one other thing he could use it for.

It was 8 pm, and the bell chimed in signal for everyone to head back to their rooms for the night. So Harry got up, and sauntered down the hall, but walked past his room, heading further down the hall until he hung a right into the wide, marble hall.

The hall was only lit by one light at the end of it, and the end elevator’s key card blinked as though waving him on. He walked to it, sliding the ID card through it, followed by the doors swinging open with an inviting little ding.

When he reached his floor, he did not hesitate to saunter out and unabashedly open his door. The room was dark, besides an actual candle lit on Louis’ desk. Harry paused, scanning the room, wondering if he had already left for the night.

But that thought was interrupted, “Harry?” His voice literally squeaked out as he emerged from the restroom, his eyes widely glinting in the light of the flame.

“What the fuck are you doing up here?” He could hear the fear in his voice, and a wicked smile turned up his lips.

“Decided to stop in and see you.” He drawled out, resting his massive hand on his hip.

“H-How?” Louis choked out, backing up to his desk, Harry could literally see him trembling.

“It’s really not that hard, you guys should probably update that- and you probably will after this…” He sighed heavily, but the smile on his lips not falling. He didn’t move, just stared at the man quaking across the room, “Why are you so afraid of me?”

“I have valid reason to, Harry.” Louis cleared his throat, and in a sudden sound of air whooshing, the candle was blown out and the whole room grew to a oily pitch black.

“I’m not afraid of the dark, Lou.” Harry chuckled, walking across the floor carefully, waiting for his eyes to adjust. No answer.

“I’ll tell you something, Louis..” He couldn’t help his voice breaking into little giggles, “I really did do all of those horrible things that I was found guilty of. I really did rape and murder those people.” He paused in the middle of the room, waiting for him to say something.

“I need help, Louis.” He made his voice sound like a little child, before a loud grunt left his lips as something slammed onto the back of his head and he fell to the ground with a thud.

“Ouch, babe.” He laughed, rubbing the back of his head, blinking several times. “You’re going to have to pay for that.” He clambered up, turning around to see the petite man trembling and cowering back, holding a big metal vase.

“D-Don’t hurt me.” Louis whimpered out, stepping back as Harry stepped forward with a pretty little smile on his lips.

“I’d never do such a thing, Lou.” He purred, reaching out tentatively to grab a hold of his bicep. “Give that to me.” He tutted quietly, grabbing the vase with ease and setting it on the desk beside him.

“HELP!” Louis suddenly screamed, trying to claw away from him, but a massive hand was clapped over his mouth.

“Shhh honey, don’t make this more difficult for yourself.” He chuckled, pressing a kiss to the shell of the man’s ear. Louis murmured something in horror against his palm, and he pulled his hand away, stroking his jaw. “Now be quiet, okay?” He whispered affectionately against his neck, and he rapidly nodded.

“Why did you kill those kids, Harry?” Louis asked with a trembling voice, crying in terror.

“I told you..” Harry sighed against his skin, kissing it repeatedly, winding his hands up the man’s back to rest around the back of his neck, “Because I get a rush like I do when I come.” He bit harshly into his skin before shoving him back into the wall, Louis squeaking.

“You’re a-a monster.” Louis cried out as his shirt was ripped clean open, followed by the clattering sound of his buttons. Harry looked up under his lashes wicked, laughing.

“That’s not what therapist’s are supposed to say, Louis.” He tutted, wedging his fingers into the waste-band of his boxers and chinos, ripping them down his delicious thighs.

“Well it’s different when you’re about to be raped.” He spat bitterly into the boy’s face, who just smiled, silencing him with a kiss, which wasn’t nearly as aggressive as the rest of the act, they’re lips melded together, and Harry nibbled on the man’s bottom lip, until he suddenly kissed him back, they’re tongues rolling against one another in a lustful dance.

Harry pulled back, panting, eyes blown out with lust. “I don’t think it’s rape when you want it.” He pressed another firm kiss to his lips and then traveled down his jaw and neck, sucking so hard into his neck that he drew blood on a few. Louis couldn’t hold back the little moans that dropped from his lips as Harry’s kisses and kitten licks traveled down the plain of his torso and to his achingly hard cock.

“I’m going to spoil you rotten.” Harry purred, before placing his hands to balance himself on Louis’ helps, engulfing the man’s cock with his plump red lips and warm wet mouth that had Louis’ head fall back against the wall with a little breath.

Harry sucked, hard, on the head, dipping his tongue into the seam, teasing until little beads of pre-come pulsed into his mouth. He moaned appreciatively around him, which made Louis cry out and find purchase with a grip in the boy’s mop of curls.

He pulled his mouth off with a pop, breathing heatedly on his wet cock as he smiled up at him, “You taste so good, babe.” He purred, before engulfing him entirely again, sinking down all the way until his nose was pressed again Louis’ soft stomach.

“Fuck.” Louis cried, having to hold himself back from bucking his hips up into the boy’s face. Harry pulled up, hollowing his cheeks, and sinking back down, repeating this several times, before he began palming himself lazily through his sweatpants.

And in one fluid motion, Harry stood, ripping off his shirt and pants to reveal his heavily scarred and bruised milky body, that Louis stared at with, big wet eyes.

Harry stood there for a moment, drinking in the sight of Louis’ bare body, loving every little thing about him, his curves and collarbones, so much he couldn’t stand it. So he lunged forward, wrapping those massive hands around his neck, pressing his lips to the shell of his ear as he felt him begin to tremble in horror. He lightly tightened his grip, not enough to choke him quite yet.

“I bet you came so hard thinking about this exact thing.” He purred, biting harshly on his ear, running one hand fro his neck and down to wrap around his cock and begin to pump it steadily, which leeched a little mewling moan from the man.

Harry laughed into the shell of his ear, tightening his grip slightly, “You little slut.” He dropped his grip on his neck, and Louis gasped for air, his head buzzing and thighs trembling as Harry aggressively hoisted them both up off of the ground, holding him back against the wall.

Louis was more or less all the way off the floor, his back flush against the wall, balancing him as Harry held him up with just the brute strength of his arms. Louis looked at him dead in the eyes, his chest heaving.

“Just do it.” He growled, and Harry wickedly grinned, before quickly releasing one of his thighs to spit into his palm and pump his own cock, pick back up his leg and hoist him up.

He raised his brows, his white teeth nearly glowing in the dark as he smiled, “Good luck.” He chuckled, before shoving his hips up, entering the man, who let out a pitched scream, his back arching up off of the wall. He felt as though he had been ripped open- although he was no stranger to the feeling.

Harry groaned, his grip on the man’s thighs tightening as he momentarily allowed him to adjust, before thrusting up harshly, followed by another. Little desperate squeaks left Louis’ open mouth, and he reached out to wrap his arms around Harry’s neck.

Harry began to thrust hard, his head thrown back in absolute pleasure and lust as the sinful sound skin on skin filled the quiet room along with their ragged breathing.

“Uh uh uh, nngh Ha-Harry.” Louis cried out in time with his thrusts, sounding like a porn star, which had the boy nearly ravaging him.

As his cock disappeared again and again into the man, he felt the heat pooling in the pit of his stomach, and his brows knitted together, eyes squeezing shut as he pounded upward.

Louis’ moans turned into full blown screams as he angled just right and hit his prostate again, almost turning into agonizing pleasure, his back arching and toes curling as his mouth dropped open with haggard breaths.

But his breaths were cut off as Harry brought one free hand up to his hand, and efficiently wrapping it around and cutting off his air flow as he continued to thrust up into him. Terror enveloped Louis’ body, but his body reacted in the must pleasurable way to all of this, and he trembled, tears rolling down his cheeks as he stared the boy dead in the eyes.

Louis’ mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping helplessly out of water, and he came so hard, white ropes falling from his cock and painting his stomach white, air-depraved screams raking up his throat as his back arched in a desperate attempt to dismount himself from the over-sensitive sensations spiking between his thighs.

He could feel his vision tunneling and all the blood rushing to his head as he stared into Harry’s eyes still, pleading in horror. He was going to die, Harry was going to do what he did 7 times before.

Harry was so close, his hips jerking up erratically, grip tightening on the man’s throat. “Tell me you love me.” He growled out between gritted teeth.

Louis’ eyes widened as the tears over flowed, his mouth gaping open for breath. “I-I could n-never.. love a monster l-like you.” He gargled out, his face beat red.

And just like that Harry came with a guttural moan and his head lolled forward defeatedly thrusting balls-deep as he came deep into the man, and his hand fell away from his throat.

Louis gasped for air, his head reeling and buzzing as Harry released his legs and he dropped to the floor as he continually gasped for air.

Harry looked down at him, his eyes glassy with pooling tears, his lips trembling. “I can’t fucking do it.” He whispered down at him, and Louis glanced up at him, touching his neck in disbelief. Why had Harry spared him?

Louis was too wrecked to say anything, his body trembling from the aftershock of being strangled and coming the hardest he ever had in his life.

“I-I’m so sorry, Louis.” He sobbed suddenly, dropping to his knees, crawling to him, running his trembling hands over his cheeks. Louis pushed him away, feeling tears well in his eyes.

“Harry.” He cried, squeezing his eyes shut, it taking all of him not to reach up and stroke the tears running down his cheeks away. He lost the battle and did, and Harry grabbed his hand, holding it against his face as he sobbed brokenly.

Somewhere in the mix of things, Harry pulled on his sweatpants again and returned to Louis on the floor, stroking his neck, leaning down to kiss the red finger marks and dark bruises running across it.

“Stop right there, Styles! Put your hands above your head!” Someone yelled behind him, and he didn’t turn to look, just sobbed even harder.

“Fuck, he got another one!” Another officer yelled, and he heard loud foot steps echoing behind him. He clasped onto Louis, who just stared at him, silently crying.

They ripped his arms behind his back and quickly cuffed him, hauling him off the ground and tearing him back.

“Lou-LOUIS!” He screamed, flailing wildly against the constraints, kicking out and arching his back with a agonizing wail. “Louis! I-I’m so sorry- LOUIS!” He screamed again, as they hauled him out the door, a screaming, crying wreck.

Louis huddled against the wall, covering his face as he sobbed into his palms. “I’m so sorry Harry.” He murmured wetly into his hands.

That was the last time he ever saw Harry.

Or so he thought.