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?


8. Chapter 8

"Louis! Lou, help! C'mon!"
My head snaps up at the voice flying through the house, jarring me to my senses. Realizing the position I'm in with Harold, I let out a disgusted howl and push him away. My eyes take in the scene around me, and it's like I'm seeing it all for the first time. The bloody shirts, the soaked ropes, Aunt June's pillow... The pillow doesn't bother me much, to be honest. It's just... When I was helping him, it reminded me of my childhood, when Ashton would get hurt and I'd have to help her. It's like I wasn't there helping him, even though I was...
"Ugh! I have no idea what you're doing, Jew, but stop!," I growl at him. "Stop trying to mess with my head."
"Louis William Tomlinson, if you don't get your scrawny butt over to open this door, I swear I will sign you up for a double shift at the camp!"
My eyes widen as I hear the threat. I go to run out of the room before turning back to Harold. He lays on the floor, right where he landed when I pushed him. His face shows pain and confusion.
"Go down the hall, the third door on the left. I want you to, um, organize the dresser by color. Do that in every bedroom on this floor, then return here," I command him.
Leaving the room, I scurry down the steps and throw myself to open the door.
"I'm counting to- Oh!"
A large box moves out of the way to reveal a head of fluffy brown hair and a bright smile. The bubbly 16-year-old bumps past me, striding purposefully into the parlor.
"Travis Conrad, why are you here and what is in the box?," I say, standing in the entry with my hands on my hips.
Travis sets the box down on the coffee table, turning and matching my position.
"You sure seem happy to see me! I walked by your house, only to see no Christmas! At all! It's December, Louis. Just because your birthday is the day before, doesn't mean you can't celebrate," he says, reaching into the box and pulling out garland.
I laugh, pulling him into a quick hug, mussing up his hair and grabbing the decorations. Thirty minutes later, the inside and outside of my home is decked in cheer. Sprawling out under the tree, we waste time talking. 
"Do you think you'll ever find her?," Travis asks, playing with a small needle from the tree.
"Find who?"
"That girl," he replies, sitting up. "Um... Ashley?"
"Ashton. Her name is Ashton. And, I doubt it. I've been searching for four years. She's never going to show up. I should just let her go," I say, trying to fight back the tears at the mention of my 'little sister'. 
"Oh... Sorry for bringing it u- Hey, what was that?!"
Is seconds, Travis is running up the stairs to investigate a hollow thump and a cry of pain. A strange, fleeting rush of worry runs through my body, and it disgusts me as I dash up behind Travis. 
"What?! Why is this person here?! And why is your dresser... organized?!"
"Ashton?! C'mon, wake up!"
I kneel in front of my couch, wiping a cold rag over Ashton's face in an attempt to wake her up. She isn't responding, and I'm scared out of my mind. Once again, I wonder why she's so important to me. It's like we have a... deeper connection. I shake the thoughts away and lay the rag on her forehead, scrambling over to my telegraph machine. I quickly send a message to Louis, praying he gets it soon. And, that he doesn't bring that Jew. I don't want that thing to soil my house.
"Please wake up, Ashton..."
(A/N: Ha! You all thought it was Zayn at the door! I tricked you! *victory dance* Anyway, a new character! Travis Conrad. (No, he is not a Nazi. He is neutral.) Can't wait to add him in more... Tell me what you thought! Please! And, I know that this is not long enough for the time you waited, but if you've been here a while, you know how long it takes me... BYE!)

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