When Hate Turns To Love

Harry Styles is a 16-year-old Jew. He lives with his mother, Anne, and they've managed to hide from the Nazis for quite a while. But, one night, while Harry is asleep in a little side closet, a group of German soldiers come in and steal his mum away. Heartbroken, Harry packs up his few belongings and heads to Auschwitz, hoping that he'll be able to save her.

Louis Tomlinson is an 18-year-old Nazi, and he sees Jews as the scum of the earth. He's doing night patrol when he sees a curly haired boy speaking with a Jewish woman through the fence. Disgusted, he drags the Jew back to his house, planning to use him as his personal slave. But, when his friends bring over another Jew, mistreating both young boys, Louis feels protective, jealous, and guilty. What will happen when Louis' hate for Harry turns to love? Will They be able to hide it long enough to go to America? Or will it all end on a battlefield?


2. Chapter 2



"Louis, you get your lazy bum out of that bed before I come and drag you out!"


I groan as Zayn's voice rings through my house, disturbing my slumber. I can hear his heavy footsteps coming up the stairs, and that makes me jump out of bed, running around desperately to find my uniform. During five minutes of speed dressing and grooming, I think of my dreams. For the past two weeks, I've been dreaming of a boy. He has beautiful, soft-looking curls, and the most dazzling green eyes. His thick, slow British accent is amazing, and his body is long and lanky. But, it pains me to think that someone that gorgeous and perfect can only exist in my dreams.


Zayn's knocking on my door jars me into my current location. I open the door, letting myself out and falling into step with him.


"I still fail to see why you need such a big house. It took me ten minutes to get to your room!," he exclaims, clapping his hand on my shoulder and leading me downstairs.


"I've told you before, it was left to me in a will! My grandma's will, actually. And as badly as I want a small house, I have to live in this 1,253 square foot mansion," I laugh, a lonely feeling drawing over me as I voice the size of my home.


Zayn keeps up the light chatter as we stride down the road, constantly drawing attention to his loud voice and happy demeanor. As we reach our destination, the Old Town Library, a secretary is calling our names, waving our assignments in the air.


"Maybe we'll be assigned together this month, eh?"


I nod, grabbing my slip of paper from the teenage girl's hand. She makes a point of slipping her hand over mine as she lets go.


"Hi, Major Tomlinson," she purrs, puffing her chest out.


I wrinkle my nose and walk away, standing a few yards away when Zayn joins me.


"Auschwitz, male barracks, south entrance," he states, a look of boredom crossing his features.


"Oh. Auschwitz, male barracks, north entrance....."


A smile replaces the boredom, and he skips around me happily. I roll my eyes, a smirk painting my face, and we run off towards the trucks. Before we have a chance to ask where any of them are going, a man runs up to us.


"Malik, Tomlinson, get on that shuttle."


We shrug, climbing on and closing the tarps, signaling that we're ready. Next thing I know, the truck is moving and I'm nodding off on Zayn's shoulder, and I have another dream about the curly haired boy.

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