A little Grishaverse fan in her fantasy world

To say that he knew his papa in pieces was an understatement. Louis knew three things about the man: one, he was the oldest of his siblings and proud of that fact; two, he lived a quiet life despite his siblings and all because of the absence of his children; and three, Louis was not the son his papa wanted and the reason for the divorce.

Louis was used to the feeling of isolation, at Beauxbatons he usually spent all of his free time alone, observing the world and not being in it. In England, he spent his time avoiding his cousins, sticking to his sisters when possible, but alone was always best. He knew all the hiding spots in his papa’s small seaside cottage and all the hidden places of the Burrow. Home to him was the small slices of silence he got when the world was asleep or just quiet.

But here he was now, the stubborn sense of determination locked into his very body. He wasn’t going to let his past decide his present, he wasn’t going to allow his parents or sisters to make the decisions anymore.

Running away to his grandparents was of course never in the plans, but suddenly his life felt different. As if nineteen was worn in his shoulders and making him a true man…finally.

He had no more school to hide behind, instead he was finally standing out on his own two legs, even if it wasn’t what he expected. But at least he had place to live with his grandparents, and he at least had something in a job, even if he never dreamed of mopping floors and getting yelled at over coffee orders gone wrong.