weed, one direction, and lots of alligators

Chapter One

Harry's POV

"I still don't understand why I have to go," Harry said while placing his perfectly folded piles of clothes into his designer suitcase, "it's not my fault dad's so attracted to large amounts of gold."

"God, Harry, I thought I told you to stop harassing your dad about the incident." Melania reminded him.

Ah, the incident, she's referring to three weeks ago of course, when Harry's dad, and the president of the U.S., embarked on his latest mission to remind everyone that he's very rich. Harry understood where he was coming from of course, he also liked to flaunt their riches at any given opportunity, but it was beyond his understanding why it had to be something so ambitious. Being raised around politicians, Harry was taught that ambition was a virtue, but there's a fine line between ambition and trying to pour molten gold over the entirety of the Trump Tower.

"Well I'd have no reason to "harass" him if he hadn't melted every window of the tower." Harry replied smugly, knowing he was right.

"Harry, we've been over this. It happened. It's being fixed. Now for the meantime you have to go to a very nice boarding school outside of the city," Melania explained," there's no reason to complain."

Still sucks though, Harry thought to himself as he watched his mom leave the room with his bags in her hands.

"Hurry up now, the car's going to arrive any minute to take you." Melania shouted from the living room of their massive hotel room.

Harry sighed and looked around at the room one last time before making his way down to the lobby where his limo was waiting. Of course they had to get him a limo, nothing like a grand entrance at a school where he knew no one.

One of the hotel staff was holding open the car door for him. He didn't bother to thank them; his dad had made sure to teach him at an early age that being kind to staff was unbecoming for someone of their importance.

Harry bid Melania a quick farewell and before he knew it they were on the road. He learned that the school was about an hour and a half outside New York City, and that they would have to take some long unnecessary route because the main roads were closed. He had laughed when he found out they were closed because of protests against none other than his father, probably because his gold plan had resulted in quite a few people's cars melting. 

His driver, Mark, one of the only employees whose name he'd bothered to learn, tried making small talk throughout the ride which made it slightly more bearable.

"I heard you're gonna be sharing a dorm, any idea with who?" Mark asked.

"No, that's all they told me." Harry replied, not caring that he was being blatantly dry.

"Well I hope you get someone good, kid." Mark said sincerely. Harry decided Mark was his favorite driver out of the many he'd had over the years.

"Hey.. do you think it'd be weird if I only went by my first and middle name? I don't think I want people to know about dad." Harry muttered.

"So Harry Styles instead of Harry Trump," Mark said, looking in the rearview mirror at Harry, "it's got a nice ring to it, that's for sure, almost sounds like a celebrities name."

Harry zoned out after that.

When he looked up next, he was greeted by forest in every direction. Quite the difference from his usual big city apartment.

"Do you reckon we're close yet?" Harry asked Mark.

"Yeah, about five minutes out, you ready?"

"I guess."

Harry couldn't keep his jaw from dropping a bit when they pulled up to the campus. It was massive. From what he could see, there were a couple overgrown sports fields surrounded by a very luscious forest on one side, and a couple tall, medieval looking buildings on the other, not to mention a vast lake that spanned further than he could see.

"Well, here we are kiddo, good luck, you've got my number if you forgot anything at the hotel." Mark leaned back towards Harry and said.

"Thanks." Harry said as he hopped out, actually trying not to slam the car door behind him. He went to grab his bags from the trunk but Mark, being the well trained driver that he was, beat him to it.

They walked to what looked like a 3 star hotel entrance, Mark somehow juggling all of Harry's Louis Vuitton bags, and made their way through the huge doors. Directly in front of them was a lady sitting at an old fashioned looking semi-circle desk. She dressed and looked exactly how you'd expect the receptionist at a rural boarding school to. Not a good thing. 

"Ah, Mr. Trump, we've been expecting you," she said, looking over the metal frame of her glasses, "let me show you to your dorm."

Harry looked back at Mark almost pleadingly, but followed her anyway when she got up and started down one of the long halls.

"Actually, Ms., its Mr. Styles. I go by Styles. If that's okay." Harry stammered, almost embarrassed of the look he saw flash across her face when she mentioned the Trump name.

"Okay, Mr. Styles," she said in a mocking tone, "if you'd just follow me up this way, you'll be sharing a dorm on the fourth floor. I apologize in advance, we didn't have any openings with anyone of your age, so he's two years older."

At the end of the hallway, where Harry expected to see elevators, there was a dark stairwell. Lovely, he thought. This would take some getting used to.

He took a deep breath and started heaving his many bags up the stairs, cursing himself for not packing less.

The only noise was the hollow clanking of The Receptionist's heels each time she took a step. Harry hadn't taken the time to ask her name, and quite frankly, he didn't plan on it.

Harry was slightly out of breath by the time they reached the top of the stairs, he would have to get back in shape to try out for football. Football was maybe the one thing that gave him any sense of normalcy. His dad had decided to keep his name out of the media when he was born 17 years ago, so it wasn't hard for him to go unrecognized when playing on sports teams. He was grateful for that.

"428, this is the one." The receptionist said, knocking on the door.

"Zayn, I told you not to come by until 10." Said a voice from the other side of the door.

They heard footsteps shuffling towards them. "Zayn?"

"No, not Zayn, Mr. Tomlinson." The receptionist said in her monotone voice.

The door opened and they were suddenly met with an incredibly pungent smell. Was that? No, no it couldn't be, Harry thought, but sure enough, it was pot. And judging by the smell, lots of it.

"Mr. Tomlinson, I thought we'd discussed this already. The terms of your scholarship strictly include not smoking weed in the dorms. If you can't comply, we'll have to rescind your financial aid, and neither of us want that." The receptionist said sternly.

The door then opened all the way to reveal a shorter boy, dressed in all black. Despite his small demeanor, Harry got the sense that he wasn't to be messed with. He removed a joint from his mouth and tossed it behind him, then looked up and made eye contact with Harry, and quickly looking back down.

"Yeah sorry Ms, I know." The boy said, red-rimmed eyes faced towards the floor.

Harry's roommate was a stoner. Fantastic.

"Now this is your new roommate Harry, he's just transferred from the city, you'll show him around." She said, making it clear that it wasn't a suggestion, he was indeed going to have to show Harry around.

Harry reluctantly extended a hand, which the smaller boy took and shook lightly.

"Well, Harry, go on in then!" the receptionist said a bit too cheerily, as if she was already ready to be rid of him, after their 5 minutes together.

Harry walked into the room and set his bags by the empty bed, closing the door behind him on the way in.

"I'm Louis." Harry heard from the other side of the small room.