*creeps in*

What do you mean I haven't written a fic in like four years?

I'm sorry! I love all of you! I found this whilst desperately trying to break into my emails today and I really liked it, so I've tidied it up a bit and thought I might try my hand at fanfics again because to tell you the truth, I've really missed it!

Hope you're all okay!

Rocky

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Disclaimer: it isn't mine unfortunately. Except for Louis. I might steal him.

"Are you going to tell me what's up?"

Louis looked up, meeting his father's eyes and forcing as bright a smile as he could manage. "What do you mean?" he asked, raising his voice in what he hoped would be a carefree and curious manner.

Bill looked unconvinced. "Look, Lou, you're a happy kid. You don't think your old man would notice when you're down in the dumps?" He sighed, dropping down so he could sit next to his son on the wall to the pig-sty at the Burrow. "I mean, for one, you're electing to sit out here. Normally when Gran asks you to feed the pigs, you stall as much as you can, and when you do finally do do it you do it in seconds flat. What's bothering you?"

Louis smiled, shaking his head to indicate that he was fine, but Bill continued to stare questioningly at him until he finally sighed. "It's just that... well, everyone's doing great, aren't they?" he said quietly, meeting Bill's eyes, before it all came gushing out. "James and his Quidditch career and Fred and his multi businesses, and you know, Dom with her magizoowotsit, and Vic getting hired as school healer... they're all doing exactly what they want to do, y'know? And I am genuinely so happy for them, Dad, I really am," he added hastily, but with such an earnest voice that all Bill could do was smile encouragingly and nod to show his son he believed him. "It's just that I'm not happy. I feel... I feel like the world is about to come crashing down around me at any time. I mean, I'm stuck taking drinks from table to table and I can't even do that properly, remember that time I had to go to hospital for concussion? I'm getting paid the minimum wage but I can't complain because I can't physically do any better. And I mean, I really did try at school, Dad. I just struggled, and I wasn't that good at anything. I just... I feel like I'm being left behind, and I'm starting to feel like I'm on my own. And it's stupid and selfish of me, because I am genuinely happy for everyone... I just feel pretty shit about myself, y'know?"

Bill sighed, nodding once to show his understanding. "But, Lou, remember that you know, for an eighteen year old, you're doing okay. You have your whole life ahead of you. You're not going to be pulling pints for all of it."

"But I'm still dependent on you and Maman," he said, looking up at his father. "And, I mean, I haven't even been able to keep up with rent this month... it's not like I don't work hard, Dad, and I'm worried that I'm disappointing you both, but I try so hard and nothing ever seems to get any better, but like, I have a job and I have a bed and I shouldn't complain..."

"We can lower the rent," Bill suggested, but Louis shook his head firmly.

"That's not what I'm asking. Ignore me, I'm just being dumb, okay?"

Bill sighed, sitting up straight and staring out at the rolling hills that backdropped the Burrow. "It's beautiful out there, isn't it? You know, when I was your age, I wanted to go and explore those hills."

"Really?" Louis replied, looking curiously out at the countryside. It was okay, he supposed. It wasn't the sea, but it was okay.

"Really," Bill confirmed, smiling slightly. "When we were young your Uncle Charlie and I used to pretend we were in them. Charlie would always find dragons in our games, right from the early days. He always knew what he wanted to do, our Charlie."

"What about you?"

"Me?" Bill replied thoughtfully. "I don't know, really. I always changed my mind. One minute I wanted to be an explorer, the next an auror tracking Death Eaters, or wrestling werewolves. Funny how that one worked out." He smiled oddly, before returning to his story. "When I left Hogwarts, I felt stuck. I was eighteen. I still hadn't made up my mind on what I wanted to do."

"So what did you do?"

Bill grinned. "It's horrific."

"Oh my gosh, what did you do?"

"Waited tables at Madam Puddifoot's for a year."

Louis stared at his father for a moment in shock, before his face split into a grin. "Oh my God, Dad. I think that's worse than the Leaky."

"Infinitely worse," Bill agreed. "At least on Valentine's Day you aren't forced into a very revealing toga and asked to play a cherub. Mind you, you'd probably suit it, you jammy sod."

"A toga?"

"A pink toga," Bill said, grimacing as Louis laughed harder. "It clashed dreadfully with my hair. Anyway, stop laughing, I'm trying to tell you of my woes."

"Sorry," Louis said, grinning. "What happened?"

"Well, I got sad, really," Bill said, and Louis's smile faded. "I had a miserable job, I had next to no money, I had six younger siblings, two of whom were still in the house wreaking havoc. So every time my friends wanted to go out, I'd blow all my money on drink to have a good time. Of course when I was dreadfully hungover at work the next day and losing custom all the time, I regretted it. I began spending more than I could afford, and ran up huge debts."

Louis's eyes widened slightly, but they were full of concern as opposed to judgment. It was things like thus that made him so Louis-ish, Bill thought - there was something about his son, something inherently good natured, and every time he saw a glimpse he felt a small bubble of pride rise within him. "What happened?"

"Mum and Dad got fed up and told me I had to go to Gringotts to sort it out," Bill replied, lips quirking upward. "I very nearly didn't go, too; I got home about three hours before my appointment. Mum made me though, and I'm so glad she did."

"Why?"

"Because while I was there, they announced to me that they had a place for an apprenticeship with curse breaking," Bill answered, grinning. "It would suit me just right, and the wizard team were willing to offer it to me. I loved Defence Against the Dark Arts and they said that anyone who was made Hogwarts Head Boy must have been granted that title for a reason."

"Oh," Louis said, and there was an infinitesimal second in which his face fell, before he forced a bright smile to his face. "Oh, that's good."

Bill smirked, nudging Louis with his elbow. "It may have escaped your notice, Lou, but you have a Head Boy badge knocking about in your room somewhere beneath all that junk."

"How do parents always manage to tell you off about your room in the same sentence that they try to help?" Louis replied, and Bill laughed.

"I'm being serious, Louis. You should flaunt that badge."

"But it was an accident I got that badge," Louis muttered. Bill frowned a little.

"Sorry, I'll be honest with you, Louis; I'm not following."

Louis sighed. "Don't you hear them all? Everyone asks me how I managed to get it when I got awful grades for my OWLs and NEWTs. I'm so bad at keeping order too, it's a joke I got given that badge. It should have been given to Tristan or someone who actually did well."

Bill's frown had increased steadily as Louis had continued to explain. "Louis, you listen to me. Nothing is ever given by accident in Hogwarts. You think that the Head Boys and Girls are picked by their exam results?"

"I always imagined it to have a significant contribution."

"It doesn't," Bill replied firmly. "After all, intelligence doesn't determine a nice person, does it?"

Louis shook his head. "No, but..."

"Uncle Percy was picked because he was diligent, because he loved working and would guide students who needed support through their work, because he threw himself into the role. Victoire was picked not because of her exams, but because of her compassion and her want to help those in pain. That's why she's working as the school healer. It's the ideal job."

"What about you?"

"Me?" Bill replied, raising his eyebrows. "I don't know really. I defended a couple of kids when they were being confronted, I guess. I hated bullies. I still hate bullies."

"I bet you were a good Head Boy," Louis said, smiling, and Bill shook his head.

"Pfft, only as good as the next one. Probably not even as good as he was; I think he cared more about the title than I did. And you? Why were you made Head Boy?" he asked, lips quirking upward. When Louis shrugged, he sighed. "Well, I know why you were."

"You do?"

Bill nodded. "You were made Head Boy because you are you. You are sweet and kind and friendly and you hate to see an injustice. You helped out your cousins, you helped out other students. Sure, you don't put your school work first all the time, but you don't put yourself first either. You always think of others, and you always try to understand. Louis, you are a lovely boy, and I am so proud of how you've turned out, I really am, even if your room is a shithole."

"And there was me thinking we were having a tender moment," Louis said with a laugh, but Bill could see in his son's eyes that he had assuaged the boy's fears just a little. "Thanks, Dad."

"You're welcome," Bill replied, giving his son's shoulder a squeeze. "Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah," Louis said, nodding, before a cheeky glint entered his eyes, a smirk contorting his features. "After all, could be worse. I could be at Puddifoot's."

"And the whole thing about your kindness has just been discredited."

"Sorry," he replied, grinning at his father, and Bill smiled and gave the top of his arm a quick squeeze.

"Cheeky git. I'm gonna head back inside, cos it bloody stinks out here," he announced. "Want me to pour you a firewhiskey for when you get back inside?"

"That would be amazing," Louis replied, burying his hands in his pockets and smiling, before looking up at his father's retreating back. "Cheers, Cupid!"

He may have flipped his son the finger, but Bill Weasley couldn't help but feel a little glow of warmth in his heart.

I hope you enjoyed it in all its cheesy glory!

Rocky

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