I was going to save this for a couple of days...but after the awesome AmandaTheBookworm decided to trawl through all my stuff and scatter reviews, I thought I might as well post this as well :D
Louis Weasley
Louis looks like he knows everything, sitting with both arms stretched out along the back of the small sofa, no girlfriend, no positions, nothing to distract him from doing exactly as he pleases every second of every day. And he does do as he please, striding around the castle with some new project every day, always moving quickly but somehow finishing everything perfectly, just like his oldest sister.
He looks like a Weasley; tall, powerful, redheaded, charming smile that can send any girl in the vicinity melting to the ground in a puddle of hopes and dreams of moonlight strolls. But he's the only one of them all who worries, all the time.
He worries about James, how he doesn't care about his exams and his future as long as he's happy – but you can't live off happiness. He worries for Dominique, how she's slipping away faster than steam from a train, gradually becoming more and more transparent with every skipped meal. He worries about what Fred will do to be seen as his own person, what he might be driven to. He worries that Molly will never live real life because she's too wrapped up in her fairy stories. He worries that Albus might one day break away, leave them forever in favour of people who seem to value him on the surface. He worries that Roxanne will get hurt, burn out, before she sees that she doesn't need a trail of guys behind her to be beautiful and powerful. He worries that Hugo will play too much, get hurt, be killed even. He worries for Lucy, what she might become with all the confusing influences that surround her all the time. He worries that Lily will never find something lasting if she keeps everything so slick and superficial all the time. He worries for Rose and Scorpius (because don't they always go together?), that they might lose each other under the pressure and the scrutiny and be utterly broken.
And he knows he shouldn't, and he's embarrassed enough to never tell anyone that he thinks these things, because he's a Weasley and they don't worry, they survive. So instead he works at everything, all the time, always trying to invent new spells, curses, potions that will make their lives easier, better, brighter.
You can always find him in some classroom, surrounded by failed attempts, fair skin stained by bright coloured pastes and crumpled ideas surrounding him as the sparks fly.
And he looks like magic.
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