A/N:This is my first fanfic, hopefully I will be able to make it half-decent :) Enjoy?

Disclaimer: Not mine

Prologue:

Percy sighed and pushed his essay to the side. For once he couldn't care less about his homework nor the assignments and spells he could be reviewing and perfecting. He was distracted by the one single statement, the line that had come from the two people who had teased and mocked him since the day they were born, Fred and George, the twins had always been the first to comment about his obsession with perfection, so why did this one off-hand comment bother him so much? His fingers tapped out a random rhythm against the hard wood of his desk leaving ink splatters against the dark surface. 'Why is this so hard to accept?' He thought desperately. They've said it before, they've said worse before! Maybe it was because this time he wasn't meant to hear it. Maybe because this time they meant it. Really meant it. Maybe because this time they said it when nobody was around to laugh at it, at him. Maybe it was because this time they were alone, walking towards the entrance to the tower, talking quietly, their faces serious. The twins were never serious. They always had matching smiles, jokes flying off their tongues and pranks fluttering in their minds. This time it wasn't a joke. This time they meant it, they had to have, how could they have known that he was standing around the corner? Close enough to hear but just out of sight? They couldn't have. This Percy knew with absolute certainty, they had no idea that he had heard them and they meant every. Single. Word. It hurt. It always did, every single time; even the most innocent of statements caused a small tinge of hurt to sink into his ever-growing pool of rejection. Caused another thread of self-doubt to creep in deeper.

Percy had always fought to maintain a constant image of perfection, he owed it to his Mother and Father, his first few years had been just before Voldemort's defeat and the stress of the war had been visible everyday, even for a young child. Their fear had become his and he had been determined to never be a cause of worry and to give them as little stress as he possibly could, he never gave up the goal. Perfection had become his mission and despite the contempt it drew from his siblings Percy was still determined to obtain it, to master it. Well, now he wasn't so sure.

It was hard to be the one who always followed the rules, the one who got perfect grades and excelled in every class. It was hard becoming a role-model for younger siblings who didn't want one like him, one that fit the mold that he had forced himself into. It was hard to force himself to be perfect, because while it ensured that he never caused his parents any stress or disappointment it also made damn sure that his brothers and sister resented him. Maybe even hated him for setting such a high standard, one that they didn't want to follow, one that they couldn't. It was hard, and for what? Sure he was a model son, but he had isolated himself from the very people he had worked so hard to please. Weasley's were everything he had forced himself to stop being and it was oh so noticeable whenever he came home and they would all branch off into their sections, leaving him to stand alone. Molly and Arthur were the parents, they had always banded together and they always would, they would always remain separate from their children in that slight way every parent unconsciously does. Bill and Charlie were the big brothers, the adventurers, the ones who could be relied on to keep any secret and fix any hurt. They were strong, rebels in their own way but still part of the family. The twins were the trouble makers, the jokesters, they could make anybody laugh with little effort and any and every room they entered lit up. Ron and Ginny were the babies of the family, the youngest and the ones who allowed their determination and drive to motivate them, they constantly worked to prove that they could handle more than expected. They were a family.

Then there was Percy. Perfect prefect Percy. The pompous, arrogant, stuck-up perfectionist who had no idea how to function with and around other people. Percy, who had single-handedly isolated himself from his wonderful, warm and loving family because of his futile, pointless and disgusting attempt to master perfection. To be perfect.

Percy's thoughts were interrupted by sharp pain in the palms of his hands. Shocked he glanced down to see deep crescent shaped cuts embedded into the flesh of his hands. He stared until warm blood welled up and began to drip onto his desk, joining the dried ink. The pain gathered his focus and he quickly cleaned the mess, leaving the cuts to heal on their own.

"I need air," he whispered before pulling himself away from the hard-backed chair and towards the large window that was located beside his bed. A slight breeze entered the room, surprisingly warm for late September. He leaned out and the wind tousled his red curls softly. The night was dark and Percy could barely see the ancient trees of the Forbidden Forest, only their dark outlines were visible from his window, until a soft light appeared near the roots of the great trunks. It drew his gaze and he leaned further to watch it. The glow danced through the trees, shifting amongst them and bathing them in a warm light. His hips were resting against the window sill and his entire torso was hovering over a couple hundred foot drop. The light flickered and he jerked forward, trying to keep it in sight.

It was gone. And he was falling.

Air rushed around him and the wind stole his screams, all sounds faded, adding to the horrifying rush that pulsed in his ears as he was pulled down, down, down. The dark smudge of earth grew closer and the light was gone leaving behind a cold, empty black. Nonononono! Tears poured freely down his face only to be stolen, like his cries, by the angry rush of air. He was falling, closer and closer to the hard ground. Then, mere inches from the unforgiving earth; he came to a sudden halt.

Harsh panting filled the night and the wild beating of his heart overwhelmed him, slowly he opened his eyes. When did I close them? His body was encased in a soft white glow. The soft white glow. As his gasping breaths calmed the light grew brighter and soon all he could see was the comforting white and all he could feel was a soft rocking motion.

A/N: I know where I'm going with this, it doesn't seem like it but I do…