Warnings: language, slash, mature themes, (and possibly a slow beginning).

Chapter 1: Louis

Louis Weasley never could hold a conversation with a girl. Not because of a lack of social skills on his part. It was them, not him. He'd greet them or ask them a question, whatever. It didn't matter what he said or what he did, their reaction was always the same. They'd blush, giggle, and bat their eyelashes in response, leaving him frustrated and annoyed. What was the matter with them? Had they no self-respect?

None of them could ever hold his attention or interest him at all. They were all the same to him; an irritating presence, flitting about unwanted in the corners of his life. Sure, they were nice to look at –for the most part- but then they'd always open their mouths, in a surge of giggles and compliments, and the illusion would be shattered.

It was probably why he enjoyed the frequent Weasley/Potter family gatherings so much. No one there cared that he was part veela and easily the best looking guy at school. They'd all seen him grow up. They still had memories of him as a young kid; throwing a screaming tantrum, losing control of his toy broomstick, falling into the pond, being dressed up as a girl by his older sisters (they'd shoved him into a dress, covered him in make-up and there he was, "Louisa" their littlest sister), running about in the nude, his face covered in food and all the rest –definitely not a sex god. He was just another one of the cousins, and one of the boring ones at that. It was the loud outgoing ones that stole the show. Louis would just disappear into the shadows with a drink and the shadow of a smile to observe the amusing antics of his extended family from the shadows. Or when even his family began to get on his nerves -and they always would- he could disappear completely and they'd never even notice. There were far too many of them and it wasn't as if he made enough of an impact when he was around to be missed when he wasn't. But it didn't bother him, not really.

Louis loved the illusion of invisibility, the feeling that he was living in a different dimension to everyone else -a living breathing ghost- but it hurt too, somewhere deep down. And maybe that was the attraction for him; the pleasure in the pain. These were the people who knew him best, weren't they? And they barely cared for him. There was a sick satisfaction in knowing that if the girls at school looked beyond his pretty face that any interest they held for him would be lost.

There was a knock on his bedroom door. Hurried, demanding. Louis didn't bother getting off his bed. The door opened anyway, as he knew it would. He squinted at his oldest sister, Victoire, from where he lay upside down, dangling of the side of the bed and holding on with only his legs. He'd kind of fallen down like that and then hadn't bothered to get back up. Victoire didn't seem to find it anything out of the ordinary and huffed impatiently. "Why aren't you ready?" she groaned, "Mum's going to kill you!"

Louis quirked an eyebrow, a considerable feat, seeing that he was upside down. "I am ready."

Victoire gave him a look that cried "You're wearing that?" before rolling her eyes and turning to the door. "Yeah, Mum's going to kill you. C'mon, five minutes. Hurry up."

They were about to leave for a Weasley/Potter family gathering at their Grandparents' house; the last chance for everyone to catch up before those still school left for Hogwarts the next day at the end of the Christmas break. Louis had only considered the event with mild indifference. Yeah, he loved his family and it'd be nice to seem them, but he was also only a few chapters off finishing the book he was reading. But whatever, he was going.

Louis rolled off the bed as the door closed shut behind his sister, tossing the book to the side. Yes, he'd been attempting to read upside down. No, it hadn't been working. Half asleep, although it was nearly 6 o'clock, Louis yawned as he shoved his feet into a ratty old pair of combat boots.

His room was a mess. Even though he was to return to Hogwarts the next morning he hadn't even started putting his stuff back into his trunk. But oh well, that's what later was for. Clothes lay tossed over every possible surface and his books were in messy piles over in the corner. His homework was under the books …or so he thought. Or well, hoped.

Louis crawled halfway under his bed which was, of course, the only logical place for his jacket to be. Pushing aside old lolly wrappers and ducking away from the claws of his moody cat, Pebbles, Louis pulled out his favourite black jacket and slid out from under the bed. He got to his feet and slid the jacket on over the layers of clothing he already wore. It was the middle of Winter, and he attested that he could very well wear a t-shirt, a blue jumper knitted for him by his grandma and emblazed with the Ravenclaw eagle, an unbuttoned plaid jacket and well, another jacket on top of that . It was cold, okay.

He glanced in the mirror to see wide blue eyes staring back at him from under a flopping fringe of white-blond hair. He scowled and looked away, calling for Pebbles who emerged from under the bed with a meow of complaint. He grabbed his wand out of the unused fish tank on his bookshelf and ushered the cat out of the room before leaving himself, slamming the door shut behind him.