A prefect. It was all he'd ever wanted to be. Even when he was little, he'd never replied with the usual responses if anyone happened to ask him what he wanted to be when he grew up. Most little boys his age, his own brothers included, when asked this question would immediately launch into a long winded explanation of their fantasies, ranging from a professional Quidditch player to an Auror and back again. But not him. A Prefect. That's what he wanted to be. Of course, his eventual plan was to become the Minister for Magic but one couldn't simply achieve that dream over night. For Percy, there was a very clear line of succession to this role and it all started with becoming a Prefect.
He remembered, as clear as day, that fateful morning when Bill had received the badge. Percy still had a full year of waiting before he could go to Hogwarts too, but that didn't stop him waiting for the post owls every morning during the summer, scouring the sunny skies for the owl to bring the letter saying they'd let him go to school early. No such luck. The best he ever got was Errol delivering letters for his father that he wasn't allowed to read, or even the occasional issue of the Quibbler, that strange magazine from the people who lived over the way.
Then, one morning, it all changed.
He'd heard Bill and sometimes even Charlie talking about Prefects before, usually complaining about how bossy they were, and perhaps even then he'd thought of how nice it would be to become one. But it wasn't until Bill actually got the badge had his aspirations soared sky high. He could still see it now; his ten year old self talking the thick yellowish envelope from the handsome screech owl and bellowing all over the house that Bill and Charlie's Hogwarts letters had finally come. His older brothers had come straggling downstairs with bedraggled hair and rumpled pyjamas; clearly just out of bed, no longer excited by their annual letters from school and the trip to Diagon Alley that always proceeded them.
It had been such a typical summer morning. Dad had been at work, Mum setting down steaming bowls of porridge on the table, Ginny giggling as Fred and George poked fun at Ron, and Bill and Charlie, still yawning, leaning against the worktop, reading their Hogwarts letters. And then, quite suddenly, Bill had stood up straight and tipped something from the depths of his envelope into the palm of his hand.
"Mum," he'd said in a somewhat strangled voice as she bustled past him with a plate of toast. "Mum, I-I'm a Prefect!"
She stopped dead in her tracks and turned to face him very slowly. As the gleaming badge in his hand reflected the glare of the morning sun, she burst into tears and ran to hug him, dropping the plate of toast to the floor with a crash. He'd patted her hair, grinning embarrassedly, as he pulled him into his truly rib cracking hug, sobbing loudly that she was so proud of him.
"Oh Bill! Just wait 'til your father hears! He'll be so proud! I'm so proud! Oh! I'm all of a dither!" She'd let him go eventually but even as she went to make a replacement batch of toast, they could still hear her muttering to herself.
Charlie had clamoured to see the badge and Percy had stood on tiptoe watching as the gleaming scarlet badge was passed between them. Fred, George, Ron and Ginny who were clearly too immature to appreciate the enormity of this situation simply went back to their breakfast, though Percy could distinctly hear the twins giggling how this meant that Bill was going to try and boss them about all the time now that he had a shiny badge.
"Can I touch it?" Percy had breathed, hardly daring to get his hopes up and Bill, amused at his serious expression, tipped the badge into his cupped hands. He'd simply stared at it in wonder, imagining the striking effect it would have against the bold black of the Hogwarts robes. He'd known, right there and then, that he would do whatever it took to get a badge like that of his very own.
Then of course, two years later, Charlie had received the badge with his letter in the same eventful morning that Bill received the Head Boy badge. He could still see it now, the breakfast dishes going flying once more as not one, but two gleaming badges were delivered by the handsome tawny owl. He'd had his own Hogwarts letter of course, being at Hogwarts now himself, but somehow, his simple book and equipment list paled into insignificance beside these badges of his brothers'. Being a Prefect and the Head Boy were linked, in Percy's mind and from that there could only be a clear path to the Minister for Magic's office. He'd be getting both those badges when the time came, he'd make absolute sure of it. A kind of burning desire was already eating away at it; a desire for those badges that had nothing to do with the reward he'd get from his parents if those badges winged their way to him. Admittedly though, it would be nice to get a new pet, his old rat Scabbers was becoming increasingly boring as time went on.
And then came that wonderful, wonderful day when that badge, that gleaming scarlet Prefect's badge came to him. He'd barely slept a wink all summer with the worry of it all. He'd lain rigid on his bed, his mind filled with worry and racing into the possibilities that someone else could get that badge. Images of his classmates had swam before him as he assessed each candidate for likely leadership qualities in the days leading up to this, he had dismissed them all, filled with a reckless confidence that the badge would definitely be his.
Each morning, he'd crept down the creaking stairs of the Burrow, passing the closed doors of his siblings' bedrooms and hearing the many blissful snores that confirmed that he was the only Weasley awake. He was up even before his father left for work. Every morning, he'd stand at the kitchen window, scanning the skies as he'd done so many times before. The post wouldn't come for hours, and he knew this, but that still couldn't sway his morning ritual. Most mornings, he was left disappointed as usual, but there was no mistaking those familiar Hogwarts owls when they finally came. Percy couldn't understand why none of his siblings were as excited as he was. Granted Bill was off in Egypt as part of the Gringott's training scheme and Charlie had been happily installed in Romania since the start of summer, but that didn't explain why Fred, George, Ron and Ginny were still asleep. Yes, the twins would be starting their third year, but Ron would be getting his first letter from Hogwarts, and Ginny had yet to experience it!
They had all been awake when the letters finally arrived though. Fred and George cast theirs aside after a quick glance that deduced that the only new information was that they were allowed to visit Hogsmeade some weekends. Even Ron's letter didn't have anything he didn't already know, what with having five older brothers go through the same thing. Still, it was a relief to know that he definitely had a place. Percy had held his envelope in his hands for a moment before opening it, nerves rising in his stomach like anxious butterflies, feeling rather the same as Bill and Charlie had when their OWL and NEWT results had arrived. Was it his imagination, or did the envelope feel slightly heavier than usual? He definitely couldn't imagine the hard, irregular little shape residing at the bottom of the envelope, could he?
Unable to bear it any longer, he tore it open and his anxious fingers felt through the sheets of parchment for what he really knew was there all the time. The gleaming scarlet and gold prefect's badge.
His mother had spotted it right away and had rushed to congratulate him after she had signed the twins' permission forms and cast a look down Ron's book and equipment list with a rather despairing glance. Fred and George raised their eyebrows at the badge and Percy had distinctly heard Fred mutter to George, "What a surprise! Perfect Percy the Prefect!" Ron had looked up from his own letter and said in what was clearly supposed to be a causal, throwaway voice, "You'll be able to show me about then! In case I get, you know, lost!"
Percy had loved being a Prefect, but knew being made Head Boy would really top his last year at Hogwarts. He was not as nervous, that summer before his seventh year, he had rather an inkling that this most coveted badge would be his. He felt the weight of it in the envelope before he opened it, and he knew what was coming. Somewhere, in the very back of his mind, he had nursed a small, but sacred hope that either Fred or George could continue on his family's tradition and earn the Prefect's badge. Of course, the both of them couldn't get it, but there was always a chance, however slim, that one of them could. No such chance. Of course, neither of them could ever be considered Prefect material. No ambition, at least in Percy's eyes, no hope of any sort of respectable career when they left Hogwarts, no prospects.
He hadn't been there when Ron was made a Prefect and didn't even hear about it for months, and in the end, it hadn't even been his brother who told him. For why would his brother share such information with him? Percy hadn't seen any of his brothers, his sister or indeed his parents in months. If he caught sight of his father's familiar red hair from a crowded corridor in the Ministry, then he would take whatever lengths he had to in order to avoid him. He was as high up in the Ministry as someone his age could possibly go, and his family, with their twisted beliefs and faith in Dumbledore and Potter were doing nothing but trying to hold him back.
Harry Potter. The year he'd been made Prefect had been the same year Ron had befriended the boy. That was the year that had changed everything. Percy wished he could have stepped back in time to Ron's first day at Hogwarts and steer him away from the train compartment Potter sat in. Maybe then they wouldn't have struck up that frankly inexplicable friendship and his family would still be behind him. She thought he could reach out to Ron, once he'd learned from Umbridge that he had been made a Prefect. He sent a long winded letter that he'd sat up all night writing to his youngest brother, explaining the situation in grave detail; of how he must sever all ties with the unbalanced, possibly violent boy he so proudly called his friend. Ron's nonexistent reply had shocked him into realising that his family had completely abandoned him. So that was that.
Percy Weasley, Junior Assistant to the Minister for Magic. A Weasley by name and looks, with his flaming red hair and askew horn rimmed spectacles, but certainly not a Weasley by nature. His family were well known throughout the Ministry for their notorious, anti-Ministry beliefs and Percy was keen to disassociate himself from the lot of him. He couldn't even pin the last of his hopes on Ginny. He hadn't heard anything about her in such a long time but then again, she'd been infatuated with Potter ever since she was small. She'd be of no help to him. Bit by bit, he'd begun to cut himself away from his family and only gained information regarding them from overheard conversations in the Ministry lifts.
His father had been the one snooping around where he shouldn't have been and was the fool who got attacked in the Ministry. So Fred and George hadn't even bothered to complete their seventh year at school, how surprising. They'd run off to open some silly little joke shop, how clever. So Bill had apparently rushed to Dumbledore's aid and gotten himself attacked by a werewolf. He'd heard two witches gossiping about this one morning, one of whom was convinced he was getting married to the Triwizard Champion from Beauxbatons, Miss Delacour. Apparently there'd been some kind of kerfuffle about moving Potter from the home of the Muggles he lived with. Naturally, his whole family seemed to be involved and from what Percy could glean from the whispers surrounding it, one of his brothers, though nobody was quite sure which one, had received some sort of injury. Then came the shocking news that Ron had apparently contracted a serious case of Spattergroit and was confined to his bed and unable to return to school. Then, he discovered that his own sister was one of the idiot kids who tried to steal the Sword of Gryffindor from the Headmaster's Office.
It soon became clear to Percy, though he couldn't admit to anybody, that he was wrong. His family had been right all along. He had been wrong. You Know Who had returned, the Ministry had deliberately turned against Dumbledore and Potter and now the Ministry had been completely infiltrated by Death Eaters. Percy knew he had to get out, as soon as possible, but that wasn't as easy as it once might have been. Anyone suspected of not giving their full support to the new regime was immediately taken away. Some speculated they were taken to Azkaban, others assumed the victims were killed while another popular belief was that the victim's family were tortured and interrogated for information. Percy couldn't risk anything happening to his family, not after all he'd already done to them all these years.
All the shiny badges of the world couldn't prepare him for the months that lay ahead, for the painstaking, tireless work that ensured his way out without harming his family. For the first time, he'd really questioned why the Sorting Hat had placed him in Gryffindor, all those years ago. He'd assumed, at the time, that it was simply because he was a Weasley and all Weasleys were brave, presumably. To be fair, none of them had really needed to prove their courage and chivalry before now. Well that was true for the rest of his family, but certainly not for him. When he'd really, truly and honestly thought about it, he'd wondered whether the hat ought to have put him in Slytherin. Hadn't the green and silver clad house always been described as being cunning, with great ambition? Didn't that describe Percy perfectly? Perfect Percy could never have been chosen as a Slytherin, he could only imagine the family's outcry if he was, but perhaps there he'd have met his true friends? Or any friends at all really. Percy hadn't seen any of his friends, or perhaps peers was a more appropriate term, since the day and hour he left Hogwarts. But now was not the time to be ambitious and to think only of himself. Now was the time to be a true Gryffindor, to be brave and noble and selfless, for his family. Merlin knew he owed them that much, at least.
When he'd arrived at Hogwarts that night, his nerve set and a desire to make things right burning fiercely in his heart, he hadn't expected to find most of his family crowded together by the entrance into what Aberforth had called 'The Room of Requirement.' Granted, he'd expected to meet up with them at some point during the fighting, he'd wanted to take the time to apologise to them, individually, and explain his actions and how very sorry he was. In that one second before he spoke, the silence between them was tangible; he could feel it closing in on him. He hadn't expected this, their curious, calculating looks. They semed to be asking what he was doing there, how dare he have the nerve to show up and pretend he really was part of the family? He had burst then, unable to stand it any longer, and a second was all it took for him to be welcomed back into the family, as though he had never left, had never deserted them. His mother had started to cry, and unbelievably so had his father and he could feel all their arms around him. Percy couldn't remember feeling like that in an extraordinarily long time. He was back where he belonged and he was determined to prove this.
'Well we do look to our prefects to take a lead at times such as these,' George had said loftily, reminding Percy very much of his younger self, and they all laughed accordingly. But, in a strange way, he was right. Percy had to take the lead now, to show his family that he was truly on their side once more. He was determined to get it right, this time.
He hadn't made good use of it the first time round. But maybe they could. Maybe the two girls who stood before him, one in her seventh year and one in her fifth, both with gleaming badges upon their chests could. Maybe Molly and Lucy could learn from their father's mistakes.
As he watched them board the Hogwarts Express that sunny September morning, he felt a proud confidence in both of them. Despite what people said, they were not as like their dad as everyone thought. Yes they were diligent and intelligent and abided the school rules, but the similarities stopped there. They deserved the responsibility that came with those Head Girl and Prefect badges, they could put it to good use and benefit others along the way. No, they were not like him. They're weren't Ministry-loving, family-disowning, power hungry morons, as poor Fred had summed it up so eloquently, and they never would be. Percy would make sure of that. He was determined to make sure of that.
A/N This story in its original form was first posted on my Harrypotterfanfiction account. Just like then, I am a huge Percy Weasley fan and believe he gets an unfair judgement in the fandom; I will argue his case anytime! Anything you recognise comes from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows UK Edition, page 487/8