"What a beautiful little girl. Those big blue eyes will set hearts ablaze one day." The old woman leaned in and gently poked the infants cheek.
"Well, thank you. But that's my son." Bill explained. As he spoke, he pulled the child back into his arms a little closer, as if shielding him from the prying eyes of the old witch. And while the woman was indeed about the power of such mesmerizing eyes, this day would mark the beginning of a life long struggle for Louis Weasley.
Initially, Bill and Fleur were certain that the misconception of their youngest child's gender was simply because it was rather difficult to tell at such a young age. Louis looked much the same as their daughters had, and not much different from the children of their relatives either, aside from hair and eye colours. Nevertheless, Fleur made a point to dress their son almost entirely in blue. To her horror, people tended to think it was less gender related and more to do with the colour of his eyes.
People who met them and knew of Fleur's Veela ancestry instantly assumed all of their children were female. As one would expect. That didn't do much in the way of helping others to realize that they did in fact have a son. While things didn't get worse as time went on, it certainly didn't get better either.
When Louis was six years old, he accompanied his mother and sisters on an expedition of sorts. A very important one, his mother had explained. And while Dominique and Victorie seemed less impressed with the idea, Louis was a ball of excitement. In light of his sisters lack of enthusiasm, the young boy had opted to take matters of the errands into his own hands.
That was how young Louis had ended up terribly lost and completely unconcerned about it. In his mind, he'd simply made the errands a solo mission. While his mother searched for him frantically, unbeknownst to him.
Through the winding alleyways, Louis traveled along unhindered by worries. While he wasn't entirely sure what he was looking for, he was certain that with his expert skills in exploring, he'd find it before long. Even at his young age, he was assured in his skills at the very least.Whether it was hours or minutes, he wasn't sure. But eventually, he was pulled aside by the hand of an unfamiliar woman. With wide eyes, Louis looked up at the woman, curiously.
"Where is your mother, little one?" She asked, to which Louis simply shrugged. He thought it strange that the lady was concerned for his mother. She was fine of course! He wouldn't have left her if she wasn't.
"Such a shame, dressing such a pretty little girl in boys clothing..." The woman commented, shaking her head as she tugged Louis's hand, intending on helping him to locate his mother.
"I am a boy!" Louis said firmly. A frown formed on his face as he tried to pull away from the woman. Clearly, he wanted nothing to do with her.
"Nonsense. Let's find your mother now." The woman said with a huff. Her good Samaritan nature was wearing thin it seemed.
It was a good thing Fleur stumbled on the pair when she did, because the poor woman's robes would have been scorched by Veela-fire in mere moments. While Fleur was upset that Louis had run off, she was more upset that some one else had the nerve to make her son so distraught.
Throughout the years, Louis faced seemingly neverending misconceptions and ill informed people. Puberty was a God sent, in that he began to develop much more defined, masculine features. And while he was indeed far more secure in his masculinity, he did often feel the need to affirm it. In case people forgot. Or worse yet, if some one dared to call him pretty, or beautiful, or any other word of the same meaning. He'd had more than his fair share of those sort of compliments and learned to positively despise them. After all, if some one felt the need to compliment him, they ought to at least make it something he thought he could be proud of. Like handsome. Or anything, really, that was much less feminine.
