The Things We Do For Love

For as long as he could remember, Louis Weasley had found birthdays boring. It was just another day, as far as he was concerned, with the only difference being he was now a year closer to being a senior citizen. Not that he had anything against the elderly – his grandparents were lovely people – but he'd prefer remaining youthful and wrinkle free forever.

Still, there wasn't any denying that today was rather significant. Turning seventeen symbolised that he was now, legally, an adult in the eyes of the wizarding world, which of course translated into him being able to do all the things he'd been doing since he was fourteen – only now, he wouldn't get in trouble for it. Then again, the Veela charm he'd inherited from his mother had been quite the asset in that regard, granting him the guile to charm his way into almost any club, bar, or pub he'd wanted to. He sighed – try as he might, he wasn't able to convince himself that today warranted any special celebrations.

Through the window, he could see his brother-in-law, Teddy Lupin, directing lengths of sparkling streamers through the trees with his wand. A few strings of fairy lights lay at the older man's feet, glimmering despite the bright afternoon sun, for unlike the Muggle contraptions Grandpa Arthur kept in his shed, these lights housed real fairies. Vain creatures, thought Louis, and he wondered why it was that his mother had been so set on using the theme of Mardi Gras for his birthday.

Oh, perhaps it had been his talk of wanting to travel to New Orleans to experience it. The woman was a quite determined to keep him around as long as possible, citing, with reason, that once his job application with the Daily Prophet came through – and it would come through, since nobody denied a Weasley anything these days – he'd be spending months away at a time in various exotic locations covering world events.

He sighed, propping his feet up on the coffee table and folding his arms behind his head. At least he'd get presents, he reasoned, and the fuss would be worth it. Maybe his parents had finally got him the new Starfyre 3000 racing broom – it would really increase his odds at catching the Snitch. Though, now that he'd graduated Hogwarts, he wasn't really sure when that would be much of an issue since, unlike his cousin, Lily, he had no intention of playing Quidditch at a professional level.

Once again, he turned to look out the window, ignoring the aroma of gumbo from the kitchen – well, you had to give the woman credit for keeping to the theme to such an extent – and had to hold back a snort of laughter. Dominique's fiancé, Richard Sparx, seemed quite out of his element as watched, jaw hanging open, as Victoire flicked her wand and transfigured a handful of twigs into tables and chairs.

Poor Muggle – well, he'd have to get used to it sooner or later. It was always the case when the magical community decided to wed those of the non-magical persuasion. Whilst not as much of a taboo as it had been in the days of his grandparents' youth, it was still not a very common occurrence. Louis thought it for the best, truth be told, because, despite the fact that they were all people, they were still from two different worlds.

It was an unpopular opinion to have, and he was happy for his sister, but he wasn't very keen on having someone in the family ogle him whenever he whipped out his wand.

"Well, don't you look ecstatic," said a soft, feminine voice and he jumped. He hadn't even heard the roar of the Floo, which was never a good thing when you lived in such a large family. Anyone could just wander in, and without sharp ears, there was always the danger of being caught in strange and compromising positions.

He, at the very least, had ditched the habit fairly early, though not before he'd gone to visit Victoire and Teddy and, to his chagrin, stumbled upon them practicing for their first child. Well, if there was any joy in that situation, he reasoned, it was that his sister was now sporting a large bump beneath her sweater.

Perhaps they'd name him Godfather thanks to his role in the whole affair.

"This is my happy face," he said, as he cringed at the memory. His cousin chuckled before plopping down beside him on the loveseat and unabashedly extending her legs over his lap. He rolled his eyes in response but didn't say anything, as it wouldn't do much good. Lily had always had a way with making herself at home no matter where she went.

"More like your resting bitch face, but I'll take what I can get."

"You have a way with words, you know that, right?"

Lily laughed, and then said, "Happy birthday, Louis." Leaning back into the couch, he forced a smile and thanked her. She was being nice, after all. They all were – the fact that he was indifferent towards birthdays didn't make him oblivious to that fact, and so, despite his personal feelings on the subject, he could very well pretend to be enjoying himself.

Thankfully, conversation soon turned to the more pressing issues of their lives, namely his relationship with whoever had struck his fancy for this particular week, and her engagement to Scorpius Malfoy. Whilst many of their relatives had been more than a little perturbed by the fact that Lily's fiancé was also her brother-in-law, Louis himself had never been that bothered by the development. After all, love was love, and he'd fought enough of his own battles when he'd come out of the closet. You couldn't really help who you fell for, and despite the way it looked on paper, there were no blood ties between the Malfoys and Potters to actually constitute incest.

Well, to be honest, there was that bit about them both being descended from the House of Black, but please, you couldn't throw a stone in Diagon without hitting at least a dozen descendants of the Blacks. Hell, Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny were distant cousins, as were Nana Molly and Grandpa Arthur, to say nothing of Teddy and Victoire.

Their conversation wore on into the late afternoon, with more and more of his friends and family popping through the fireplace or Apparating directly into the yard – which had led to a fairly amusing moment when Fred and Olivia had caused Richard to scream like a strangled pixie by appearing out of thin air directly in front of him. As more of his cousins found their way to the living room, it became downright claustrophobic, not that it was any of their faults. The house his parents had bought when he was three may be bigger than Shell Cottage, but it was nowhere near large enough to house the entire Weasley-Potter-Lupin-Malfoy-Longbottom-Scamander- Assorted Others Clan.

Excusing himself, Louis walked to the front porch, wrinkling his nose at the acrid smell of smoke filling the air. True to form, his cousin, James, was leaning against the railings, a cigarette between his lips, chatting in a hushed voice with Rohan Thomas, Molly's husband, and Lorcan Scamander. He was about to join them when a piercing voice filled the air.

"James," screeched Aunt Audrey, climbing up the porch stairs with fire in her eyes. "Didn't I tell you at your last screening that you were not to smoke or drink?"

"You did, but I didn't listen," replied James, raising the bottle of beer in his hand up as if to toast his aunt, which Lorcan seemed to find very amusing. For his part, Louis didn't really see it. His aunt was a gentle creature, but absolutely terrifying when riled, and boasted a temper so fierce that it was hard to remember she'd married into the family and not been born into it.

"I swear, boy," muttered Audrey, glaring daggers as Uncle Percy guided her into the house before further sparks could fly. "It's as if you're asking to die."

.o0o.

James was in a bad mood.

In fact, he half considered flipping his aunt the bird as she was coaxed – more like forced, based on how Rohan and Uncle Percy were grasping her arms – but decided not to. It would cause a lot more hassle than it was worth, and everyone would just spend the evening staring at him as if he was a bomb about to go off.

Sourly, he brought his beer to his lips and took a hearty swig. Contrary to popular belief, he was not made of glass to break at the slightest provocation, and nor was he made of paper so as to tear at the smallest strain. He'd do what he liked, when he liked and damn the rest of them for trying to stop him living.

Most of them just wanted to lock him away in a padded room at St. Mungo's, bloody vultures.

"You alright, mate?" Louis came up beside him and laid a hand against his arm, and for once, James didn't snap at him. For whatever reason, Louis was one of the few people who spoke to him as if he were just any other person, and that was in short supply with this family.

Which was a bit rich given that there were about three or four trained Healers scattered about their convoluted tree.

"I'll live," he replied, frowning out across the garden.

"I don't doubt it," said Louis, flicking his wand and summoning a bottle of beer for himself. Popping the lid against the railing, he continued, "I'll not say she means well because the problem with these people is that they all mean well a bit too much."

"Not having the best day either then, mate?" James chuckled, his ire disappearing somewhat.

"You know what they say, boys," interjected Lorcan, who until that point had been silent, which James was thankful for. The other man was good company, but he'd inherited a bit too much of his mother's quirkiness to really be comforting in times when James simply wanted the whole world to die. Maybe that was a little extreme, he thought, but he sure as hell felt like it should, sometimes.

"What do they say?" asked Louis, obviously amused, as the two of them shared a look about their cousin-in-law's quirkiness.

"Just relax and accept the crazy, because it isn't going anywhere."

Once again, James and Louis exchanged glances, though this time, he could detect the hint of pity in his cousin's eyes. The comment rankled, but he laughed politely, no matter how uncomfortable it made him. Lorcan had always had a propensity to say things without properly considering their implications, and this time, he'd unwittingly hit a little closer to home than he should.

Without meaning to, James felt his free hand slip down to his coat pocket and finger the vials concealed within. The odourless, colourless potion within seemed to heat at his touch, and he frowned, fumbling around until he was able to extricate another cigarette from his pocket.

He wasn't supposed to be smoking, truth be told, but just like with alcohol, he found it to be a welcome distraction. Idle hands led to idle thoughts, and that was something he could not abide, for fear that it would lead to the self-pity that had haunted him for years.

No, he was fine, and he would not let a few offhand remarks make him feel sorry for himself. Unlike a lot of his relatives, he knew Lorcan hadn't meant what he said, and so, with a deep breath, he forced himself to break the terse silence.

"So, Lorcan, how was the trip to Bulgaria?"

"It was fun," he replied, "Though, I haven't made much headway with my paper on Veela reproductive cycles. They're a bit territorial, honestly, and their charm makes it quite difficult to get close enough to observe them."

James nodded politely, having stopped paying attention at that point. It was one thing to be entertained by the Scamanders when they were going on about the creatures that filled their imaginations, but it was another to listen to them drone about actual creatures. He was broken from his stupor, however, by a loud spluttering to his left, and he had to bite his lip to keep from laughing when he realised what was being said.

"I'm less than a quarter of a Veela, Lorcan. I don't think my sex life is going to have much in common with my purebred cousins."

"Still," pressed Lorcan, "I can compare this to my findings to see if there's a link. I can't believe I hadn't thought about this before. Tell me, when you reach orgasm, is it more or less than the average human male?"

Louis turned redder than a tomato, and James, stifling laughter, decided that as much as he would like to rescue his cousin, he'd best just make himself scarce. Taking his leave, he cleared the steps in a single hop and strolled around to the back garden, pausing only to wink at his cousin's spluttering face before losing sight of them both.

"He left the office early, I swear. I don't know where he's at."

James paused, recognizing Rose's voice. He looked around, but didn't see her, and it was then that he heard another familiar voice, laced with worry.

"He told Lily he'd meet her here straight after work. When have you ever known him to be late to anything where she's concerned?"

"Maybe he just lost track of time, Cass. Have you asked your parents? You know how he and Draco are, get them talking about work and they lose track of time."

"Mother said that he hasn't been home all afternoon. This isn't like my brother, Rose. He'd at least send a Patronus if he was held up."

Feeling as though he was eavesdropping, James walked on, pointedly ignoring the rest of the conversation as it streamed through the open window. Nothing good would come if he were caught, especially given that Rose had never been his biggest fan. Sure, they were amicable enough when forced to meet at family events, but he'd never forgotten the things he'd overheard whilst passing an empty classroom back in Hogwarts.

"Really, Monica? You like James? You know he's loony, right? He's nuttier than a fruitcake when he's on his potions, and Merlin, you don't want to see how many screws are loose when he's off them."

To this day, her words stung, and whilst it may have been easier to dismiss them if it had just been her, the problem was that her words were actually more of a group opinion than anything else. They'd forgotten that the kid he was before the diagnosis was exactly the same as the person he was after his episode, but, somehow, everything had changed.

No, he was not about to dredge up the past. There was no reason to, and he'd keep it all tucked away, just as he always had because he had enough to hurt him in the present without going out to lick at old wounds.

.o0o.

Having finally escaped from Lorcan, Louis found himself whisked into the backyard by his mother for the festivities. Following the announcement from her that they'd go through with the general formalities before dinner and party games, he'd breathed a sigh of relief. Oh, birthdays weren't all bad, but the good parts were generally always the bits spent having a good time with the people he loved, the few he just liked, and those others than he pretended to like because they were family friends.

Of course, the dreaded formalities were always an annoyance. There was nothing quite like the feeling of being gawked at as you sliced a cake, or the way everyone, even the few who spent every other day of the year loathing you, smiling their sugary grins.

Merlin, thankfully it was over before he could really get irritable. That would put a damper on the rest of the evening, because the bit of Veela that was in him was quite fiery, and compounded with the explosive Weasley temper . . .

Better not to go there, he thought.

Dinner was served, and he found himself sitting between Lily, who for some reason seemed extremely worried, though she refused to tell him why when he asked, citing that she didn't want to ruin his day, and Albus, who was far to engrossed in a discussion with Teddy about the latter's latest album to be much fun.

At least his gumbo looked chatty, he reckoned, poking at the shrimp with his spoon. It was looking at him funny, he was sure of it.

Thankfully, dinner was also over relatively quickly, and he was able to get into the bit he really enjoyed. The party, not the formal, stand behind the cake and make a wish kind, but the one that started once everyone was well fed, with music, drinking, dancing, and games.

"Wotcher, Louis," said Teddy, offering him a beer, his hair changing colour to the beat of the music. Heck, who needed a strobe-light when they had hair like that, Louis thought with a grin.

"Teddy, mate, glad you managed to get the day off," he replied, clinking his bottle against his brother-in-law's before taking a sip. He fought to keep his expression neutral – beer had never really been his favourite since it was much to bitter to actually enjoy and savour, but this was his third bottle today. It was his own fault for being so nice – he really needed to learn how to refuse his cousins when they offered him this stuff.

"Draco pulled some strings. My agent's been on my case for the past month to finish up these last few songs, so it was worth it just to see the look on his face when I told him I wasn't coming in today."

"It really helps when you have a cousin in a position of power, doesn't it?" Louis laughs, because really, whilst his family did believe in letting each other make their own way in life, that wasn't to stay that strings hadn't been pulled here and there.

"You're one to talk," said Teddy, though his grin gave lie to the feigned indignation in his voice. "As if Aunt Ginny didn't shortlist you for that post at the Prophet."

"Guilty as charged, but then again, she wouldn't have done it if my writing wasn't as good as it was."

"Well, Draco wouldn't have done it if my albums weren't selling as well as they were."

The conversation was brought to a halt, however, when he heard a drunken yell from Fred, who had taken the opportunity to whack the piñata with a baseball bat. Unfortunately, he barely nicked it, and nearly took off Cassiopeia's head instead.

"Watch it, dumbass," she said, grabbing the bat off him. For a moment, she looked at the piñata, handed the bat to Louis. "Go on, birthday boy," she said. "Take the first shot."

"I would love to see what's in that," added Teddy. "I put it up, and it weighed a ton."

Louis smirked as he aimed and swung, catching the underside of the piñata and sending it swinging. Then, he frowned, noticing that the bat had become smeared with a dark liquid. It fell from his hands and he stepped back, looking at the piñata through wide eyes as the brightly-coloured paper began to darken.

Then, James was there, picking up the bat, with Uncle Harry at his side, urging everyone else to step back. Silence had fallen, and someone, mercifully, had turned off the radio.

James paused, hesitant, before prodding the bottom of the dripping piñata with the baseball bat. For a moment, the red drops stopped falling, and then, with a loud squelch, the sodden cardboard and paper gave way.

Louis heard a thump and then a scream, and out of the corner of his eye, he could see Lily collapse into her father's arms. More screams filled the air, and he heard a dry retching as James collapsed to his knees, hands pressed against his mouth.

He swallowed and felt dizzy, so dizzy, as he sank into the chair behind his birthday cake, his mouth dry and tasting of bile. Try as he might, he couldn't look away, and it was only then that he realised who it was that had fallen from the piñata, so bloodied that his pale skin and white-blond hair was a mottled mixture of dried brown and red.

Scorpius Malfoy.

.o0o.

Author's Note:

Hullo xD

How are you guys doing? I know it's been a while since I've posted anything here, but this story was just begging to be told, and has been haunting me ever since I binge-watched Scream Queens. That is to say, I wanted to write a murder-mystery fanfiction.

Lately, I've been AWOL, mostly because I've taken to focusing on my original story, as opposed to fanfiction. Thus, this may be my last multichapter on this site. However, I do plan to finish Lovers and Liars, and I may well stumble on a few plot bunnies in the future that need to be written.

So, I really hope you readers enjoy this story, and remember, reviews and constructive criticism are always appreciated.

Ciao Mates

-Shane