Survivors of the Wild - Larry Stylinson

Chapter 13

The next two weeks are a blur sword fighting, magic, Liam's history lessons, and an absurd amount of flowers. And Louis, of course, always Louis. Gemma teases him for it incessantly, but Harry's pretty sure by now that his favorite place in the world is right next to Louis. The whole group gives them knowing looks, but nothing's happened between them – other than Louis always petting his hair and calling him nicknames and once or twice letting him stay the night again when they all get drunk together.

He and Louis are working on magic until late one night, after a dinner where Gemma had poked at him and Sophia had teased him about his flushed cheeks and the vines crawling up the table. Louis' taken him to close to the spot by the lake where they all gather regularly for parties, in a little hollow lined with soft grass.

Harry's tired. Liam and Louis have been working him long hours, cramming his brain with more information than it could possibly hold. He's aced most of the tests on the Script and can use nature magic almost as easily as breathing, but he's still horrendous at sword fighting and using his magic as a weapon.

"Alright, break time," Louis says, dropping the wood pole. He plops down on the grass, sticking his legs out and leaning back.

"I'm sorry I'm so awful," Harry huffs, laying on his back to not crush the egg.

"Don't be sorry. We all have things we're bad at."

"And what are you bad at?"

"Um," Louis pauses. "Lots of stuff."

Harry laughs. "Of course. You're great at everything." He strokes the egg, it's warm on his chest.

"Not really," he smirks. "I'm bad at a lot of things. You just don't know it yet. Have you looked through the name book Liam gave you?"

"Yeah," he says, recalling the book he's poured over. "Made a list and everything, wanna see?"

Louis nods, and Harry pulls out the list he's been keeping in his pocket. He unfolds it carefully, resting a hand on the opal egg. "Glaedra."

Louis wrinkles his nose, flopping back and rolling onto his side. "Too historical. Plus, she's not gold."

Harry nods. "Ok, how about Kailandi?"

"Absolutely not. I had to do a full rotation once with this dick whose dragon was named something similar to that. She was awful."

"Alright. Agiravelle?"

Louis shakes his head rapidly. "No, no, no. You have awful taste in names."

"Really?" Harry raises an eyebrow and sits up. "Fine, tell me some you like."

"Oh, c'mon you have to name your dragon yourself."

Harry frowns. "C'mon, enlighten me."

Louis gives him a long look before letting out a sigh. "Fine. Vervada?" Harry shakes his head, and Louis continues. "Ysla."

Harry gives him a hard look. "No."

"Alright, alright. Here, let's see the egg. I need inspiration."

Harry unzips the egg, taking it out carefully. It gleams bright as ever, colors gleaming in the moonlight. He grows a patch of soft moss and dark blue hydrangea flowers to rest it in, just like he's taken to doing on his bed in the castle. Louis reaches out, pausing. "Can I?" Harry nods, and he strokes the egg with his small hand.

Harry reaches out, too, resting a hand next to Louis'. It should feel weird, much weirder than it does. He can't help but notice how the egg glows brighter, almost like when he first found it. The rainbow colors are shining through his finger, the white behind them pure as ever.