A/N: Hello there! :) This was written for the Speed of Lightning Competition on HPFC. The participant is given a universal quote and six days to write a fic - at least for the first round. The prompt, as always, are found at the note at the bottom. Enjoy! :)
Disclaimer: Oh, and I don't own anything. :)
The world understands two kinds of people.
There are those who know how to deal with folk and are good at dealing with them, and therefore, actually do. These are the people who step forward to make themselves known. They're the jocks, the popular kids, the funny class clowns.
They take the lead because the leaders' cape fits squarely around their shoulders.
Then there are those who'd rather not take the blinding spotlight, those who may not know much about society, but truly know themselves. These are the people whom you'd find hidden between library shelves or squeezed into dark corners.
They're plentiful enough not to be crushed by the leaders and are just enough to become good, strong foot-soldiers leaders cannot do without.
The world understands two kinds of people.
However, there is yet another. This third type is a mere vine, small and rare in number, but valuable to the core. They are both leader and follower, flitting between both roles, wherever the wind takes them to be.
They are not as well-versed in company manners as leaders are nor as charming as they are either. Nor do they duck out from under the heavy mantle of responsibility leaders must hold like followers do.
Instead, they are sturdy and true, perhaps a little blunt and forthright. They are always at attention and are always at wherever attention is needed. Especially, their attention.
These people are not born into this role; they grow into it.
The world doesn't understand them, doesn't know where to put them. They are few in number but mighty in nature.
They have drawbacks, too, of course. At times, they are too forceful and at times, they are too eager to follow. As said, they're a combination of the two original characters.
Their biggest drawback is their constant need of reassurance from either themselves or from others. They don't understand their own worth, why there are people who care for them and what they truly, truly mean to others.
Percy Weasley is one of these people.
…
All around him, the noise was quickly escalating.
The twins were making a racket as usual, running up and about in circles, yelling at each other at the top of their lungs. One-year old Ron was beside him making loud vroom-vroom noises as he rolled across the kitchen table a Muggle toy car their dad had given him a few days ago (after Arthur had tinkered with it).
Baby Ginny was sleeping in the playpen by the window, where Bill had placed her after dinner. Mum had left Bill in charge after she had gone over to the Abbotts' to help deliver their newest baby. Dad was supposed to come home soon after that, but he had Floo-called to say that there was trouble with magical Muggle-baiting keys that he had to go sort out, and not to expect him until very late.
Percy put back down his glass of milk and reached for a chocolate-chip cookie from the plate in the middle of the table. Mum had taken the cookies out of the oven before Mr. Abbott had Floo-called.
He bit into the cookie then brushed away a few of the crumbs that had fallen onto the piece of paper in front of him. Percy was drawing a picture of his family. He was almost done, putting the last finishing touches to Bill's hair and to the new trainers he had received for his last birthday, when he had turned five.
He grabbed his orange crayon and hummed as he drew the last bit of Bill's hair and a few streaks on his trainers. Then his picture was all done.
He was about to jump up from his chair to show Bill his drawing when a loud crash suddenly came from behind him. Then much to Percy's horror, a Domino effect seemed to happen right before his eyes.
The twins had been roughhousing with each other, pushing and wrestling when they had smashed into Ron by accident, causing him to slip and hit the table and making the Muggle toy car fly from his hands and hit the glass of milk on the table and somehow making it fall over and spill all over Percy's new drawing. The toy car had careened until it slipped off the edge of the table and split into a million pieces on the kitchen floor.
Ron had stared at the broken toy for a few seconds before starting to bawl at the top of his lungs, which in turn caused Ginny to wake up and join her brother in a duet of screams.
Percy stared at his ruined picture in disbelief as Bill and Charlie rushed into the room. Charlie took one look at the chaotic kitchen before grimly marching the twins upstairs. Bill rushed to calm Ginny down, giving her her pacifier and rocking her gently in her arms as he soothed Ron with hugs and kisses. He gave Ron cookies and a lollipop, promising to fix his toy car, promising to play with him, promising with one last kiss after a boatload of kisses that he loves him, his baby brother.
Percy looked on, face still white with shock, as white as the milk that stained his picture.
And no one noticed him at all.
Trying to hold back the tears in his eyes, Percy quietly took his milk-soaked drawing and headed over to hide beneath the Burrow's staircase.
…
It was close to midnight when Bill found him curled up and half-asleep in the small dark corner hidden in the shadows.
Bill had hugged him tightly, half-scolding and half-asking why he had hidden there. Then the whole story came out, and he had shown Bill his drawing, now rumpled and crinkly. He had sobbed into Bill's chest, head half-dizzy with exhaustion.
Then he asked, looking up into Bill's eyes with a tired look in his own, "Why do you love him and not me?"
For the next few minutes, Percy could hardly breathe from the long, tight hug Bill gave him.
And Bill never gave an answer to anyone who asked why there was a milk-crusted, half-torn drawing Spello-taped right on top of his trunk when he went to Hogwarts that very September.
He didn't tell them that it was there to remind his little brother about a lesson he had learned that night under the stairs - that although love is not always quite visible as that, it is always, always, always there – especially, especially, for little brothers.
All of them.
…
The world understands two kinds of people. Percy Weasley is neither kind.
Therefore, he is sometimes shunted to the side, passed along as someone who can take care of himself. Sometimes, he is treated as someone who needs no special care, as someone who needs no reaffirmation of affection – instead of someone who needs it much much more.
So it's no wonder that Percy Weasley had to ask that question a few more times in life. "Why do you love him and not me?"
He asked it a few more times, as he grew up and grew in love, often with his heart broken by one or the other of the first two kinds of people – those who are unobservant at times, and never take much notice at what lies between the light and the shadows.
He asks that question a few more times before he learns to ask the right question, a question for only the right woman.
A question for his Audrey.
"Why do you love me?"
He gets his answer, an answer so sturdy and true, and so blunt and forthright, that he knows he's found the woman who will forever reassure him of his worth and of her love, as he will do the same for her – forevermore.
And indeed, they both need it.
They're the same kind of person, after all.
The world need not understand them, so as long as they understand each other.
Forevermore.
A/N: The prompt was to put in "Why do you love him/her and not me?" as part of the dialogue. :) I hope you enjoyed it. :) I know I enjoyed writing it, even though it's already past midnight. :) (I hope it didn't show too much though! :D) Reviews will be greatly, greatly appreciated. :) Thank you very very much. :) Catch you again soon!