winter // eleven
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It takes a train ride, four cup of coffee, six cups of tea, three bags of pretzels, seven shots of vodka, four beers, a blunt in the bathroom, one porn magazine (Lena isn't naming names, but it was Niall), and seventeen unsolved sudoku puzzles before they finally arrive at the station in Holmes Chapel, Cheshire.
At that point, after over two hours stuck in a little compartment with both Harry and Niall, Lena can't really even speak, so she just shoulders her duffel bag and follows them silently off the train onto the platform. It's almost at the exact moment Harry's foot hits the concrete that he starts running.
Lena watches in amusement as he picks up a girl with white-gray, almost purple hair, and swings her around, stumbling a little bit over his own feet in the process while she screams in what seems to be a mix of terror and delight. "That's his sister," Niall says helpfully.
"No shit." The girl pulls away long enough to squeeze Harry's cheeks, and Lena gets a flash of their matching dimples before they're hugging again. "Are they the same person? They sort of look like the same person?"
Niall shrugs. "As in, like, both too gorgeous to be real human beings?"
"Yes."
"You should see their mum."
Lena swats at Niall's arm. "Niall. You can't say things like that."
"Just did." He gives her a happy little grin, and then he's gone too, joining in on the reunion of brother and sister like he's a member of their family. And, judging by the way Gemma happily embraces him into their cuddle, it seems like he might as well be.
Trying to not be awkward, Lena stands awkwardly to the side and watches them interact in what is probably the most awkward way possible. The two Brits and the Irish lad seem to be happily reuniting, despite the fact that it's only been, like, two months since Uni started and also it's freezing outside.
"Oh shit," Harry says finally, pulling back from Gemma long enough to turn around. "I'm being rude. Lena, this is Gemma...the dilemma. My sister and I missed her." He looks very pleased with himself. "Gemma, this is Lena. And literally nothing rhymes with Lena. I've tried."
Gemma shoots her a grin that is scarily identical to Harry's. "Hi, Nothing Rhymes With Lena. Harry talks about you almost as much as he talks about Zayn."
"To be honest," Lena says, "I'd probably just shut him up and make him talk about Zayn and only Zayn."
"You really are smart. Which doesn't make sense, considering Harry is a blubbering idiot."
And, like, Lena already likes Gemma probably eighteen times as much as she likes her brother. "I like you more than your brother," she says.
"I get that a lot."
Harry pouts. Because of course he does. "Okay, first of all, I'm clearly the better looking sibling. Second of all, Lena is shivering because she hates the cold and she is too stubborn to admit that she's cold. So. Car?"
"You're so lame," Gemma says. Then they're hugging again while Niall looks on with a fond smile. The Styles siblings are sort of like the Wright Brothers, with Gemma being Orville because she is clearly the cooler one. Orville-Gemma pats Harry's head fondly. "Come on, young one. To the car."
Lena isn't sure if she wants to marry Harry, or be adopted into his family.
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"Niall Horan, you have grown so much! You better not have any tattoos. Do not let them influence you into it." The pretty middle-aged woman that Lena assumes is Anne presses another kiss to each of the Irishman's cheeks. "Now come in, you know where to put your things."
And then Harry is there, ducking down in order to embrace his mother fully. Even though he's got a solid six inches on her, it still seems like she is the one holding him. She sniffles quietly against his shoulder. "You really need to you cut your hair, love."
Harry kisses the top of her head. "As soon as you're as tall as me."
"Awful, I tell you," she huffs. "Now where are your manners? Introduce me."
"Mum, this is Nothing Rhymes With Lena," Harry grins, gesturing between them. "Lena, this is my Mum."
Laughing, Lena leans into the warm embrace that Anne offers. She smells like vanilla candles and Christmas and laundry detergent and probably everything that a mother should smell like. It's lovely. Anne is lovely. Harry's family is lovely and it makes sense why he is, too.
Anne's smiling when she pulls back. "Come in, come in. You can put your things in the guest bedroom. And Harry, do not even think about being cheeky. My house, my rules. Now go help your friends settle in. Dinner is in twenty, alright?"
"Yes mum," Harry sighs. Lena follows him into the cozy house. There is a small living room, a kitchen, and another hallway leading to what she supposes is a bathroom and bedroom. Everything is open, bright, painted in hues of blue, simply designed with pictures of the family tacked on the wall.
She follows him up the stairs, where they take a moment for her to put her things in the first door on the right, an artfully detailed room with a plush looking bed tucked in the corner. Then they're walking again, down the hallway, past three more closed doors. before opening the one at the very end.
"Welcome to my humble abode," Niall greets. He's laying in the middle of the floor. "The rules are ball 'till ya fall, always finish your beers, and no sex in my bed."
Harry smiles brightly. "This is my room, but, like. That totally works. Except for the sex part needs a little bit of changing around because I can definitely have sex in my own bed."
Niall snorts, "right, with posters of Hermione Granger staring at you."
Sure enough, plastered across Harry's childhood walls are about ten posters of the Harry Potter star. There are also a few of soccer players, random bands that she has unsurprisingly never heard of, and one inexplicable picture of what is apparently Zayn's entire family.
"Dude." Harry rolls his eyes. "I wacked it every night until, like, I left for college looking at picture of Hermione Granger. Having sex in here would be the coolest thing ever. It'd be like me fulfilling twelve-year-old Harry's dreams."
"Sometimes you probably just shouldn't talk, mate."
Harry fists pump himself. "Hell yeah, twelve-year-old Harry. Bro for life. Twelve-year-old Harry would think I'm so cool," Harry grins.
"He'd probably think you're a nerd, actually," Lena says.
"Maybe." Harry ducks down to kiss her shoulder. "But then he'd meet you, and realize that you're the math nerd and I'm like the cool sidekick who wears leather jackets and smokes cigarettes."
"You just described Zayn."
He snuggles further against her, burying his face into the crook of her neck. "Then I'm like the cool sidekick who does a lot of yoga and smokes a lot of pot and rhymes." A pause. "Oh shit. I'm a nerd."
There is a loud knock on the door. "Dinner, baby brother and friends!"
Harry nips a Lena's jaw, sighing. "Coming!" He drops his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "You're a nerd, too, though. It works out."
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Just when Lena thought the Styles family couldn't get any more lovely, she's introduced to Robin, a jolly man with a fantastic mustache and a laugh that fills the entire room with warmth. He greets Niall with a bear hug, Harry with a sloppy kiss on his cheeks, and Lena with a peck on her hand.
"And you must be the one who has somehow fallen in with those five rascals," Robin grins. "How did that happen?"
And Lena, like. Lena wants to be adopted into their family. They are like the Kennedy or Medici families and this is probably what every family should aspire to be like. "Thank you," she laughs, blushing. "Zayn and Louis were cheating off of me. It was all downhill from there."
"Actually," Harry cuts in, "I came into her coffee shop and she made fun of my accent."
"That doesn't even count. I just called you a hipster until you left."
Harry looks delighted. "Isn't she charming?"
"Smart, too," Robin agrees. "That's why I'm so confused as to how you've managed to capture her."
"I can rhyme really well, I think. Either that or she's just sticking around to get with Zayn."
"It's because of Zayn," Lena confirms.
Robin laughs again, deep and bellowing as he sits at the table. "You're already challenging Niall for his spot in my favorite of Harry's friends."
As they all take their seats, Niall is bantering back and forth with Robin. The meal is passed all across the table, heaps of homemade food that clearly is the inspiration for Harry's cooking, and everyone is sharing stories about what happened while they were away.
They're having a real, family meal at a real dinner table that's not covered in obscene drawings, but instead in the breezy yellow kitchen of Harry's childhood home. It's a lot like how they eat back in apartment 4B at Uni, but it's also somehow different in the way that Lena can't quite put her finger on.
It's also probably one of the few, if not the only, time she has sat down with an actual family and had dinner. Back in Ohio, family dinners are takeout put in the fridge for everyone to grab when they're not busy. Not this all-inclusive, banter-filled meal around a round table.
It's terribly domestic but wonderful at the same time. "Right," Gemma's saying, "so I'm dressed like a giraffe, we're out of Cheetos, and this kid is still trying to hit on me. Like, come on. We're trying to get more Cheetos, not get laid."
"Gemma!" Anne scolds, but she's smiling.
Gemma just shoots her a cheeky little grin. "Anyways, he starts talking some absolute shit and it turns out - I swear to god, Harry - this kid thinks that he would be sorted into Gryffindor, but he's got a little bit of, and I quote, 'Hufflepuff edge'."
Harry looks personally offended. "How do you have Hufflepuff edge? That's not even possible."
"That's what I'm saying! And then I tell him that I'd probably be a Slytherin, and he gets actually mad at me."
"Natural selection will take care of him," Harry mutters.
"He's worse than James The Year Eleven Prom Date. Worse."
"Children," Anne chides, "James The Year Eleven Prom Date is not an appropriate subject to speak of at the table."
"Too much vodka and an impromptu lap dance followed by him coming out," Gemma stage whispers in response to Lena's confused stare.
"Gemma Styles!"
Niall snorts and Anne throws a piece of her carrot at Gemma and everyone laughs and then Harry casually puts his arm over the back of Lena's chair, and it sort of hits her where exactly she is. She's in Harry's yellow kitchen, eating dinner with entire family, and she's never done anything like this before.
She's never met someones family, and she's never done anything or met anyone like Harry before, and she should probably be running away right now because they aren't even dating. But then Robin laughs loudly again, and Lena feels nostalgic for something she's never really had.
"So you didn't want to head home for the break?" Anne asks her curiously, and while Lena's been doing an alright job of not being the center of attention, all good things must come to an end.
She rests her fork on the edge of her plate, shrugging. "My parents weren't going to be able to see me anyways, so. It wasn't really worth it to make the trip."
"Where exactly are you from?"
"Ohio. I live right outside Columbus."
"And you came over here for school?" Anne prompts kindly. "Harry tells me your going to be a nurse."
"Yeah, um." Lena shifts in her seat. "I've always wanted to help people, I guess. And I wanted to get a new experience. So I just started looking at foreign schools ended up over here. Mostly because I didn't like any of the Italian or Spanish schools as much."
Niall snorts. "Why would you go to Spain or Italy, you fuckin' - shit, sorry Anne. I don't mean shit. Or fuckin'. Sorry. Lena is weird because she should have gone to Ireland. That's what I'm going for here."
"I'm fluent in both languages, pinche puta." Lena flutters her eyelashes innocently, while Anne smacks Niall lightly on the arm. "Vaffanculo."
"Anne," Niall gasps. "I am about eighty percent sure Lena just used a swear word at the table!"
"What I don't understand, Lena," Gemma interjects, "is that you're so brilliant and yet you've still managed to fall in with my twat brother and his friends."
"That's lovely." Anne ignores Gemma pointedly. "I think you'll be a great nurse. The boys need someone who can take care of them when they get into those crazy shenanigans, anyways. Proper messes, they are."
"Thank you," Lena laughs. "They probably need a full time character, if we're being honest."
Niall makes a noise of protest through his mouthful of potatoes. He's so Irish it hurts. "We are adults," he spits. "We can totally take care of ourselves."
"Only because Liam is there," she points out.
"Liam is just as incompetent as we are!" Harry defends.
"Okay, thank you for proving my point," she laughs, and Harry pouts at her. "You know I'm kidding though. The 9 AM Peace Treaty and the Wanker Jar definitely keep everything under control. It's about on the level of the Treaty of Versailles in effectiveness."
Harry grins, "This is when I pretend to get your references and smile really cute and hope that helps."
She smacks Harry lightly on the arm and everyone laughs. "You're so full of it."
"I think you've just taken over Niall's spot in my favorite of Harry's friends," Robin snorts.
Gemma rolls her eyes as Niall protests. "Robin, I think you can make a new category. Lena can be Harry's number one significant other and Niall can be the number one best friend."
And Lena would very much so like to be swallowed by the ground. Unfortunately, the ground does not comply. "We're not. Harry isn't - no. Wait."
"We're not dating." Harry cuts off her stumbling with a simple answer, sliding his hand under the table to squeeze her knee. "Looks like Niall just lost his number one spot in the best of Harry's friends. Sorry, mate."
Then Niall is protesting wildly as Gemma cackles, and it's all back to normal. Or, would be normal, except Harry's got his hand resting gently on her knee and it's kind of hard to breathe. But other than that, the awkward moment has been avoided and Harry and Lena are still just friends. It's casual.
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After dinner, Harry, Niall, Robin, and Gemma run off to go play some game, and Lena stays back and offers to help Anne with the dishes. "Thank you, Lena," she says, "but it won't take very long. You can go with the rest of them."
"Are you sure?"
"Of course, dear. It was very kind of you to offer though."
Lena smiles brightly and follows Harry into the den. It's a nice room, with slightly worn looking blue sofas and a bay window looking out into the backyard. Robin is sitting on the couch, beer in one hand, and Niall settles on the floor, his back against the chair.
Gemma and Harry are both sprawled out across the soft, tan carpet, sorting through what seems to be a box full of papers with glints in their eyes. "You want to play charades?" Harry asks.
Lena settles onto the floor beside him. "It's alright, I'll sit this one out."
"But we need even teams," he pouts. And like Lena could ever go against his pouty face anyways, Harry widens his eyes for good measure, and grins widely when Lena rolls her eyes in defeat. "Perfect. Okay, it'll be you and Gems, me and Niall, and mum and Robin."
"Smart girls have got this," Gemma says, lips pulling into a smirk. "Let's do it, Lena. Whose up first?"
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"You can't talk, you shit!" Niall is protesting loudly twenty minutes later, throwing a pillow at Gemma as she stumbles over her acting in front of them.
"Stop interrupting me," she tells him. She sways her arms in the air again and Lena is very confused, because as nice and funny and clever as Gemma is, she is a shit actor.
Unfortunately, so is Lena, so they've got the lowest amount of points of the three teams. Harry and Gemma have been at each others throats the entire game, and Niall accused everyone of cheating at least nine times until Anne told him to shut up.
It's a truly rousing game of charades, a war to rival the World Wars, but by the time it ends (Anne and Robin coming in a slim victory over the boys), Lena has no pride left and she's also exhausted. She can't help but yawn, leaning her head against Harry's shoulder sleepily.
"You want to go to bed?" he murmurs, bumping her forehead with his nose.
Lena yawns again. "Mhmm. I need to get my rest so I can prepare for the next game of charades."
"Awh, love. You and Gemma are absolute shit. There is no hope for you."
"Don't be mean," she huffs.
Harry grins, then loudly announces, "We're going to bed."
"Separate beds!" Anne chimes in.
Harry seems completely unfazed by her rated R train of thought. He tugs on Lena's' palm instead and smiles sweetly – genuinely lovely and sweet and Lena has no idea how half the things he says can come out of such pretty lips. "Mum, you know how much I like cuddling with Niall. I would never lose a chance to do that."
Anne rolls her eyes. Apparently years of living with him has made her a bit more immune to his looks than everyone else is. "I don't trust you for a second, you know. Sleep well."
"Goodnight," Lena calls over her shoulder as she follows Harry out of the room. His family is watching them suspiciously, but respond to the farewell with happy grins, so she isn't worried.
It makes sense, though, when Harry drags her past her guest room and into his, crowding her up against the wall, mouthing at the skin of her neck before the door is even shut. He cannot be trusted, but he's also a fantastic kisser and his hands are warm against her skin, so Lena sags against him and kisses back.
"We're going to get in trouble," she huffs in between kisses.
Harry bites down gently on her lower lip. "I just want to kiss for a little bit, yeah?"
"We're not even dating though, oh my god, your mum is going to hate me if she finds out. She'll think I lied or something. They have no idea what we're doing."
"Exactly," Harry whispers, green eyes lighting up with mischievousness as he pulls back. "They'll never suspect a thing."
Lena swats his shoulder, and then kisses him again. Hard. He's really cute when he's trying to be sneaky. She thinks he's probably that kid whose teenage rebellion never really happened. "You're such a idiot," she hisses.
"You suck at charades."
"How dare you, Harry Styles, I'll have you know - "
He shuts her up with another kiss. "Hush. I need to fulfill twelve-year-old Harry's dreams, Lena. Hooking up while Hermione Granger looks on. It's going to be brilliant. I didn't learn all those Harry Potter pick up lines for nothing."
"We can't crush twelve-year-old Harry's dreams," she says solemnly, then gives him a sly grin. "Is that a wand in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?"
Harry snorts loudly. "I must have had some Felix Felicis, because I think I'm about to get lucky."
Lena was joking, she was fucking joking, and she must look as done as she feels because suddenly Harry looks concerned.
"Lena?" he asks. "You alright?"
No. She is not alright and probably will never recover from this and she doesn't know what to say, and she doesn't know anymore Harry Potter pick up lines, so she has no idea what to do. "I'm great," she hears herself say.
His grin gets even brighter. Lord help them all. "Interested in making some magic together? My wand is at the ready."
And then Harry lunges at Lena, kisses her like he's a man starved for air, like they didn't makeout last night for like thirty minutes, like Lena is the best thing that's ever happened to him and not his friend that he likes to kiss a little.
And they're in Harry's childhood bedroom, and she is vaguely aware that something definitely just broke, and Harry's so awkwardly tall so she has to stand on her tiptoes and sometimes their teeth clash together, and it's still probably the best kiss of Lena's life.
Then someone knocks on the door. "Oy, assholes, if you're not finished in three seconds I'm going to go sleep with Gemma."
Harry groans loudly. "Fuck yourself, Niall."
"No thanks, mate. Already did that twice today."
"When did you even - we were with you the whole - whatever." Harry groans as he swings open the door to Niall standing happily, beer in one hand and smile on his face. "You're crushing twelve-year-old Harry's dreams, I hope you know."
Niall shrugs, "you've got all week to complete that goal, mate. Hey, Lena."
"Hey, Niall."
"You're a life ruiner," Harry tells him, before turning back to Lena. He rubs their noses together in an Eskimo kiss. "I'll be whomping my willow thinking of you tonight."
Then they're kissing again, and Niall is groaning loudly in the background. They both flick him off. With one last kiss, Lena's out the door and back to her own guest bedroom, where she quickly changes into pajamas and crawls into the cozy, unfamiliar bed.
She actually hasn't slept in a real bed and not, you know, a mattress on the floor, in a really long time because she's only been at Harry's. That, combined with the fact that her lips are still swollen from kissing, means her chances of sleeping are practically non-existent.
Like he can read her mind, Lena's phone lights up with a text from Harry that reads, without u i feel like im in azkaban and the dementors r sucking away my soul :(
thats pathetic, Lena writes back, but also kind of sweet. mind if i slytherin to your bed?
u turn me on so much. He tacks on the man snowboarding emoji, the fried shrimp emoji, and the leaves blowing in the wind emoji. Lena has never really talked dirty on the phone before, but she is fairly sure this is not how it's supposed to work.
you're a nerd, and she tacks on the umbrella emoji for good measure.
It takes less than a minute for Harry to answer, hagrid isn't the only giant on campus if u know what i mean xx ;)
Lena stifles her laugh into the pillow. that wasn't a good comeback
lena im trying to get a pic of ur boobs not be insulted jfc get with the program, he answers. also niall says hey
hey niall. i'm going to bed now. night night sleep tight don't let the bed bugs bite
YOU KNOW HOW MUCH RHYMING TURNS ME ON LENA, Harry types back.
good night harry, she says.
Harry's answer is almost immediate. good night niall and i r looking up harry potter lookalike porn haha x.
Lena sends a string of snowman emojis in response, which is apparently a sufficient answer because Harry sends back a bunch of mailboxes. Eyes fighting to stay open and pillowcase cool against her cheek, Lena gets one last text that just reads hey lena.
If it were anyone else, it would probably come off as random, but it's Harry and like. It makes sense. hey harry, she answers.
Just before she falls asleep, it hits Lena again, that pang of nostalgia for something she's never really had.
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