A/N: Hey, guess what! I'm back for the holidays! Here's hoping for lots of updates on everything! Alright, here's Louis for you. Can you believe we're more than halfway through the 78? Louis was tricky for me because... well, he's not super close with any of his cousins. His sisters, yes. His cousins, not really. But the not-so-hallmark-moments are just as important. I hope you enjoy anyway and keep an eye out for Molly, next!
Louis and Molly – Conditional
Every time Louis looked at the spiky red D scribbled at the top of the parchment, his stomach turned. He was rubbish at Potions. He was rubbish at everything except Charms and Care of Magical Creatures, actually. He had never realized exactly how much he'd relied on Victoire to pull him through exams until she was no longer here to do it – and of course she had to graduate just before his O.W.L. year. His stomach did another roll and he quickly hid the grade under his text book, going back to wading through the dense lines of unintelligible information.
"I can help with that." And suddenly his cousin was perched opposite him, hair pulled back as severely as ever and a determined glint in her eyes as she tugged his last essay out from under the book.
Louis eyed her suspiciously. He had been very close to seeking Molly out himself and begging her to please, please find a way to make him less of an idiot. Molly was top of her class in nearly everything. But he was not sure he'd reached the point where it would be worth it, yet.
"What do I have to do?" he asked hesitantly.
Molly pursed her lips. "I didn't say you had to do anything."
Louis raised an eyebrow. Molly dropped her flimsy pretenses. Everything between them had always been conditional. It was the only way they could push beyond coexistence.
"I need Dom's help," she admitted grudgingly.
"With what?"
Molly colored. "None of your business."
"Fine, give me back my essay."
"Alright, but I'd be doing you more of a favor by burning this. Moonstone is definitely not an aphrodisiac, just so you know.
Louis's face was the one burning crimson as he snatched his parchment back. "What exactly do I have to do?"
Louis and Lucy – Insanity
"Luce?"
Suddenly, as if the voice had grabbed onto a tether and reeled her back in from wherever she'd gone, Lucy returned to herself. She realized what she must look like, windblown and icicles clinging in her hair, no coat, just one of Gran's oversized sweaters and Uncle Charlie's huge boots, wrapped in a gale of snowflakes as if it were a cocoon. But it was the wrong season for butterflies. It always seemed to be the wrong season.
"Lucy?" the hulking figure crunched cautiously through the snow toward her. As he reached the pool of lamplight, Lucy realized it was Louis, gangly as ever and decked out in furs that hid his bean-pole quality. His arms were full of wood that could have been summoned with the wave of a wand. A few steps away from her, he let the firewood tumble from his arms, made to reach towards her, and shove his hands in his pockets at the last moment. "What're you doing?"
What're you doing? The question echoed through her head again and again in all the different voices that had asked her that lately. To her horror, she felt a sob welling up in her chest and started to gasp for air. "I don't know," she managed to slide out between hitching breathes.
And she didn't know. She remembered leaving the warm sitting room full of merry aunts and uncles and cousins, grabbing something hanging on a peg and shoving her feet into the first pair of boots she could find, but it hadn't been her, really. She hadn't thought about doing that, it had just happened.
"Lucy, are you okay?" He was acting like she were made of cracking glass and she could tell he wanted to be anywhere else.
"I look mad, don't I?" She squeaked, covering her mouth with her frozen fingers and shuddering.
"Here," he said, pulling off his cloak and draping it carefully around her shoulders. "It's going to be okay, alright? Let's just go inside."
And he took her hand and led the way.
Louis and Fred – Piggybank
"Do I have to?" Louis groaned, peering morosely up at his father over the top of his comic book.
Bill tugged sharply on the edge of Louis's blanket, spilling him off the couch with a thud. "Yes, you do. Your cousin's our guest and you can't hide behind your comic books all day and ignore him."
Louis glowered disgruntledly from the floor. "Why is it Mum's running a daycare for Weasleys in our house, anyway?"
"It's part of being a family, Lou, we help each other out." Bill bent down and hoisted his son to his feet. "Think of it this way, the more afternoons you spend with Fred, the more you'll have in common. It's like putting knuts in a piggybank; it'll pay off when you're older."
Louis supremely doubted this, but before he could say so, the doorbell rang and Aunt Angelina was ushering Fred over the threshold, thanking Bill for taking him at the last minute.
\The two boys stared at each other.
"You… um… wanna trade chocolate frog cards?" Louis offered tentatively.
"Nah. You wanna see how many of these we can stuff in your sisters' jewelry box?" Fred asked, whipping out a suspiciously wriggling leather pouch.
Louis wasn't sure what his father had meant about this paying off, but he thought he deserved an entire chest full of gold for this afternoon.
Louis and Roxanne – Melody
The crowds were roaring, the spotlights flashing technicolored. A thousand lit wands were waving like stars out in the foggy night, and all of it quieted with a signal note from the Weird Sisters' lead guitarist. The sound echoed out across the field and up Louis's spine. A classic that everyone knew the words to, that had touched every heart in a generation, and they all warbled it out together in a steady, low chant. It didn't matter that they could barely hear the musicians they had come to see – they had the album, they could listen to their perfected harmony when they got home. It was being surrounded by people who carried this song around inside of them too, sharing this moment with hundreds of other people who understood –
"Louis!"
A wad of parchment bounced off Louis's forehead. He blinked around at the half-empty common room, glowing with the dying light of the fire. Most of the people still awake were surrounded by heaps of books, and they were all looking rather annoyed. Louis dropped his drumsticks, which were actually quills, clearing his throat.
"Right, sorry."
Victoire sighed exasperatedly and shook her head. Dominique threw another wad of paper at his head from across the room. Louis turned morosely back to his essay, the melody fading.
The silence was shattered again by the last few bars Louis had not been able to finish. He looked up, grinning, and returned Roxanne's air-high-five across the room. He knew he liked that kid.
Louis and Rose – Stranger
"Um… I'd ask for a dance, but we all know how rubbish I am at those."
"Louis!" Rose cried, launching herself toward her cousin, the voluminous lacy skirts of her gown frothing around their knees like waves. "You're here!" she exclaimed as she drew back, beaming.
"Of course I'm here, it's your wedding!" he reminded her, snatching a glass of firewhiskey from a passing tray and knocking it back in one gulp. "Sorry I'm a bit late. International port keys and all. You look… grown up."
Rose rolled her eyes. "I didn't think you were coming! Your mum said you'd missed your port key yesterday because Marlena was in labor."
"Yeah, well, once you've seen one baby being born, you've pretty much seen them all, right?"
Rose smacked him.
"Easy, easy," Louis laughed, peeking out from behind raised arms. "Relax. Our second son arrived into the world around one o'clock this morning with all ten fingers and toes and screaming like a banshee." He whipped a small photograph out of his pocket and waved it in her face. "Meet Luca Augustin Weasley. He'll be officially steeling your thunder this evening."
"Let me see, let me see!" Rose squealed, grabbing for the photo. "Aww! Lou, he's precious."
"I know, right? And I walked away from that to see the family name soiled forever. I know you've been bonkers for the bloke since before puberty, but did you really have to marry that particular bloke? I mean, come on, Rosie, a Tornados fan?"
Rose was winding up to smack him again when high-pitched shrieks across the dance floor signaled that Louis's sisters had caught sight of him. Louis gave her an apologetic look, and Rose waved him off with a smirk.
"Don't be a stranger, though," she called after him, even though, perhaps, he already was.
Louis and Hugo - endurance
"How'm I… doin'?"
Louis glanced up from the book Uncle Charlie had sent him for is birthday (By Tooth and Talon: the Story of the Discovery of Hungarian Horntails). "Not bad little man. Another lap or two and I'd say you've earned a sickle."
And like a bullet, Hugo was off, a streak of red around the corner of the house.
The door banged behind him and Louis turned to meet the accusing eyes of his mother, standing on the porch with her arms crossed.
"What?" he asked innocently. "Oh come on, he ate my entire jar of licorice wands. Can you think of a more constructive way to keep him busy?"
Fleur shook her head and disappeared back inside, muttering exasperatedly in French.
"I'm building up his endurance!" Louis shouted after her. Nobody appreciated the things he did around here.
"Did I make… a sickle… yet?" Hugo gasped, skidding to a halt in front of Louis's chair.
"Is your shirt soaked through yet?"
Hugo collapsed face-down on the grass, arms spread like a starfish.
"Alright, alright," Louis sighed, digging in his pockets. So he had a soft spot for the kid, so what?
He toed Hugo over and plunked down next to him, dropping the silver coin on his stomach. "Go nuts."
Louis and James – Tomorrow
James was seething before he hit the ground. Louis could tell from the maroon glow of his ears. He scrambled over the barrier to meet him on the field, thinking one of these days his sister was going to push it too far and James would set the field on fire with accidental magic.
"That was good, James! Loads better than yesterday."
"Oh, stuff it," James snapped, ripping off his gloves with a violence Louis doubted they deserved. "I didn't make one bloody shot." He glowered toward Dominique's shadow swooping above them.
"You're only a second-year," Louis reminded him. "It's only your first week of practice." \
"And your sister," he spat the word as if it were a foul curse, "keeps using my head as target practice."
"Well she's not going to do that in the actual game," Louis pointed out, pulling James out of the way as the rest of the team landed.
James gave him a venomous look, too. "She's making me look like I can't even fly straight! Twenty-two hours of practice time and I haven't even gotten close to the goal posts! Not even close!"
Louis looked amusedly down at the five feet, three inches of pure, righteous indignation before him. "There's always tomorrow." Then he messed up James's already-messy hair and loped off to find his sister, leaving James gaping after him as if he'd just shrugged off the end of the world.
Louis and Al – Storm
Every time thunder cracked across the inky sky, the burrow seemed to tremble on its foundation. The windows rattled, the ghoul howled and banged his pipes, and Fred and James, watching from the back steps, whooped and catcalled. As the eldest present and therefore supposedly in charge, Louis thought about trying to drag them inside, but the chances of that working versus the chances of them locking him out on the porch did not seem favorable. Besides, if they caught pneumonia, well, it would teach them not to be idiots better than he ever could. And if Gran found them out there when she got back, that would just be amusing.
So Louis dunked another biscuit into his hot chocolate and turned up the Witching Hour special on the Wireless.
"You… uh… doing alright there, Al?" he asked over his shoulder. Al had curled up behind the sofa. His eyes were closed, his hands were over his ears, and he looked white as a ghost.
"Yeah, fine. Just fine." Thunder boomed overhead and Al squeaked and pulled a knee up to his chin.
"Right," Louis said slowly. "You want some cocoa?"
Al shook his head. Louis rubbed the back of his neck, out of suggestions. Lightening flashed through the lacy curtains, casting violent shadows through the room, and Albus buried his face in his arms with a whimper. Louis let out a breath.
"You're gonna turn me into a sap, kid," he grumbled. "Budge up, then." And he wedged himself in beside Al, his lanky arms and legs bent awkwardly. "There now. What are we going to do until it's over?"
Louis and Lily – Underneath
"Ridiculous," Louis grunted, flipping through the pages of Lily's sketch book with disgust. "Not only did you make the Quidditch team in third year, get nine bloody O.W.L.s, and Headgirl, but you can draw, too. So this is where all my portion of talent went. You owe me, Lily Potter, at least one big success."
He closed her book and dumped it back in her lap, curling his lip. Lily laughed. "Alright, I'll transfer a bunch of karma to your account."
"About time," Louis muttered, taking a swig of eggnog. "So, tell me O Worldly One, how's Rome?"
A smile lit up Lily's face like a string of fairy lights. "Oh, Lou, it's amazing!"
Louis listened to her gush about the city, the history, the architecture, her teacher, her fellow apprentices, spilling out all her excitement on him because he was the only other one who had left, so it wasn't as though she were boasting. But underneath the babble, Louis heard a different story. The one about hardly speaking to her friends for months, about being so out of the family loop, she could hardly follow a conversation, about days when all she wanted in the world was her mother's hand on her cheek, nights that were suddenly lonely and unfamiliar, and places she wanted to share with the people who mattered most, but they weren't there… unless the people who mattered most were changing, and that was far worse.
Both stories were true, Louis knew, and genuine. Seeing the world was amazing. But there was always something underneath that, unless you'd been there, you couldn't read.
A/N: Alright, few notes: For more information on Lucy, check out December 17th of Days in a Year. She has some... things going on. She's not going insane, but she's also not in a good mental state. I think that's the most important. As always, questions and comments are craved and I love to chat. Hope to see you soon with Molly!
Love you all!
