Harry Styles Do Be A Potter

Ni gazed out the window of the Three Broomsticks at the already bustling streets of Diagon Alley. Rain dribbled down the window, she frowned when the raindrop she was watching was last to reach the windowsill. What a loser, she thought to herself.

Zayn yawned and smiled to himself looking at her. It really is her, he thought. Even though the alcohol and the hangover had all blown over, he still felt like he was hallucinating–like he was watching his life play out on a screen.

Ni was here, and she was beautiful–she'd always been beautiful to him at least. It seemed like she was completely the same and completely different all at once.

Her hair was no longer frizzy and untamed and now hung down her back in soft chestnut curls, and her posture was straight and resolute. She wore pearl earrings and he could still see the remnants of shimmering wedding makeup from a couple nights before.

There was a kind of confidence and grace about her that was so different from the girl he'd sung with at twelve years old.

Every time he looked at her he forgot how to breathe. It was like he was drowning.

He'd never wanted to kiss someone so badly.

There had been pretty girls he'd met on tours–fans, groupies, girls from other bands. They never compared to her. Ni–she deserved better than him.

A deep feeling of shame pulsed in his chest. How could she look at him without hating him? He'd betrayed her, and joined their worst enemy. He was disgusted with himself.

She glanced back and caught his gaze, he looked away as quick as he could as if she hadn't already seen him staring at her.

Ni and him had a marvelous past three days, talking about what have happened since they've last seen each other, pranking the bartender with this random worker named Lebron, and sometimes just enjoying each other's company while they did independent things (Ni had a lot of work on her plate with her activism).

Reality hit him like a brick to the face–Jason Grace style–he had to tell her about the prophecy.

"Ni," Zayn started, trying to preserve the haphazard trust built between them, "I should tell you something."

She looked up expectantly, gazing from beyond the book that was in her hand, and Zayn gulped realizing he had to continue the sentence.

"Yeah, um, you weren't exactly the only reason why I was at your wedding."

Ni closed her book, fully intent on his words, saying nothing.

"See, I...Tom Riddle told me of a prophecy, one saying that Harry has the potential to defeat him in The Battle of the Boybands. Which may not seem like that big of a deal, but uh. Well, actually, Tom Riddle is Lord Voldem... He-Who-is-Too-Groovy-To-Be-Named, posing as a sweet handsome man in order to continue his dark ways."

"Huh?" Ni scoffed, "Zayn, that can't be true, Harry killed Vo...He Who Is Too Groovy To Be Named when he was a baby. Remember? He was trying to kill those who were better than him, but Harry proved to be even better? That prophecy is fulfilled."

Zayn shook his head vigorously, "no Ni. No." he could feel himself start to tremble, "it's bad Ni. He told me everything, he wanted me to be a full fledged DeathEater, but to prove myself I had to kill someone. I...I had to leave." he took a shuddering breath, clasping his hands in a futile effort to steady them. "Apparently Harry didn't kill him, only deformed him, so he's spent years trying to look pretty again and by the time he did, he realized he needed a new battle plan. So now he's going by the name he was born with, is gaining a following as the new lead singer of the DeathEaters, and when they're famous enough, he's going to rejoin the Battle of the Boybands, and this time? He's going to kill his competition."