A ten-year-old Percy ran into the kitchen, carrying a thick book. It was summer at the Burrow, and Bill and Charlie had just come back from Hogwarts.

"Hi Mum!" he chirped happily.

Molly looked up from the eggs she was frying. A six-year-old Ron and a five-year-old Ginny sat at the table, happily eating their pancakes.

"Hi Percy," she said fondly. "Did you sleep well?"

"Fine Mum" he answered as he sat down next to Ron. "What's for breakfast?"

"Whatever you want," she answered with a smile. "Anything for my little Percy."

"Aw Mum, I'm not little anymore. I'm turning eleven this year!"

"You'll always be little to me."

Percy shoved down his breakfast and ran out into the garden, where Bill and Charlie were getting rid of the gnomes. "Can I help?" he asked.

Bill grinned at him. "Sorry, this is a job for big boys."

"But I'm big!" he protested.

Charlie ruffled his hair affectionately. "You're not even in Hogwarts yet. Besides, Mum will kill us if you get hurt doing this. Go play with the twins"

Percy obeyed. Charlie was the only one he would listen to, since he was his favourite brother. He found the twins playing in the living room.

"What're you doing?" he asked.

"Playing," said Fred.

"Playing what?"

"Games," said George.

"What sort of games?"

"Fun games," said Fred.

"You're not allowed to play," added George.

Percy was hurt. "Why?"

"'Cause only twins can play this game," said Fred.

"Fine!" said Percy indignantly. "I don't want to play your stupid game anyway!"

"We changed our minds," said George. "You can play?"

"Really?" asked Percy, his face lighting up.

The twins grinned identical evil grins. "No," they chorused.

Percy stormed back into the kitchen, where Ron and Ginny were still eating. His mother had disappeared.

"You'll play with me, right?" he asked the two.

Ginny giggled and mashed a handful of pancake in his hair. "Silly Percy!" she exclaimed.

Beside her, Ron smiled, showing the gap in his mouth. He had recently lost his first tooth. "Food fight!" he called, and they happily threw the contents of their plates at each other. Soon, the room was covered in mashed up pancakes and syrup.

Percy sighed unhappily. "Won't anybody play with me?" he asked forlornly.

*~*~*

Percy looked up from his desk, a dim lamp shining on his paperwork. Why were all his childhood memories haunting him now? He thought he was already over it.

He had stopped trying to make peace with his siblings after that. He was different from all of them. He was ambitious. He wanted to do something with his life, while the rest of them just wanted to have fun.

He glanced at his calendar. It read June 24th.

It's almost summer again, he thought miserably. Which means more awkward moments with the rest of the family. I hate this.

A piece of paper appeared by the door, and he went to pick it up. When he opened the door to see who had slipped his this note, he found there was nobody there. He shrugged and went back to his desk to read it.

It was from Mr. Crouch.

Percy Weasley, (it read)

I have a letter from you to deliver. I've enclosed it in this envelope. Don't read it. It's for the receiver's eyes only. I want you to take this to the graveyard in Little Hangleton. There will someone there who's expecting it.

Bartemius Crouch

Percy thought this letter very strange. He hadn't heard from Mr. Crouch in at least two months. He had stopped sending his daily letters with instructions, and he hadn't come back to the office either.

The other thing was that Mr. Crouch had called him Percy. This was highly unusual. In the past, whenever he had been addressed by Mr. Crouch, he had always called Percy "Weatherby". Percy hadn't bothered to correct him, thinking it rude to nitpick at the mistakes of his boss.

The third thing was the Mr. Crouch wanted him to deliver this letter to a graveyard. And in Little Hangleton too. Why couldn't he have delivered it by owl? Or if the person was Muggle, using the Muggle post?

Oh well, he thought. I might as well do it now. It's not like I have anything better to do. And besides, I trust Mr. Crouch.

So Percy set off in the gloomy weather, for the village called Little Hangleton. He was very grateful that wizards could apparate.

It's also the third task of the Triwizard Tournament today, he thought as he walked towards the graveyard. Mr. Crouch had been right. There seemed to be a gathering of people there. Maybe it was a funeral.

As he got closer, he noticed that all the people there were wearing clothes that looked like long black robes. Peculiar fashion, he thought.

And as he got even closer, he saw a black haired boy with Hogwarts robes run towards an object - that looked like the Triwizard Cup - and disappear into thin air. He could swear that he saw a lightning bolt shaped scar on the boy's head. Behind the boy who looked like Harry, the black robed people were holding sticks - which looked like wands - that shot out coloured sparks.

Percy could no longer contain himself. "Harry?" he sputtered. What kind of a village was this? Why was Harry here? Wasn't he supposed to competing in the Tournament right now?

The black robed people were livid. Even more sparks shot out of their wands - Percy was sure they were wands now - and demolished bits and pieces of the gravestones around them. Percy flinched. He was pretty sure they were wizards.

He looked down at the letter in his hand. Mr. Crouch did tell him to deliver it to one of these people, and he wasn't one to give up on something he started. So he headed forwards bravely, wondering who these people were.

It had started to rain by then, and it was raining quite harshly too. Raindrops the size of chocolate frogs plopped out of the sky and fell towards the earth.

"Excuse me?" said Percy, whose bright red hair had turned a dusty brown and was dripping with rain. "I have a letter for one of you."

"Who'sss it from?" asked someone. The rest of the black robed people parted to reveal a person who was dressed like the rest of them, but seemed to hold a hidden power.

"Mr. Crouch," said Percy, trying not to show his nervousness. He was sure he recognized these people from somewhere, or had heard of them somewhere, but he just couldn't put his finger on it.

"It'sss for me then," said the same person who had spoken before.

Percy handed it over, trying to stop his shaking hand. He wasn't sure whether it was from fright or the cold.

The man scanned over the letter, his black hood hiding his face. "Yesss," he murmured as he read. "I sssee."

Percy was really getting nervous now. "I don't mean to be rude sir," he said, trying to sound polite. "But do I know you from somewhere? You seem familiar"

The group laughed while their leader smiled mysteriously. "I'm pretty sssure I don't know you Percy Weasssley."

Percy was scared now. How could this strange man know his name? "W-W-Who are you? H-How do you know my name? I demand to be shown your face!"

The group laughed again. "I know all, Percy Weasssley," said their leader. "Asss for my face..." He reached up with bony white hands and removed his hood. His skin was chalk white, and his red eyes glowed eerily. As he talked, a snake-like tongue showed itself.

"Hello Percy," he said.

Percy screamed.

*~*~*

"You seem troubled Percy," said Molly Weasley as the whole Weasley family sat around the table for breakfast. "Is something wrong?"

Percy glanced around the table. Fred and George were talking in whispers, most likely discussing that joke shop they wanted to open. Ginny and Ron were arguing. Ginny seemed to be accusing him of liking Hermione, and every time she mentioned Hermione's name, the tips of Ron's ears turned red. Bill and Charlie were discussing Quidditch tactics, while Arthur listened to them absently-mindedly.

"Did you hear me Percy?" Molly asked again. "Is something wrong?"

Percy sighed. Once again, he was the one who was left out. Nobody but his mother seemed to care about him.

Under the table, he gently fingered the Dark Mark that lay on his arm, the mark that had branded him as a servant of Voldemort forever. It still hurt, even though already two weeks had passed since he had first gotten it. And the funniest thing was, he didn't really seem to mind that it was there. Not anymore.

He had at first. He thought it was the most horrible thing that could happen. But then, one by one, the Death Eaters had talked to him, had fed thoughts into his brain. And when they were done, he just didn't care anymore. They knew about him. They were all like him. They were ambitious people, they wanted power, they wanted the attention of others.

And they did promise him that he wouldn't have to do anything to his family.

"Percy?" Molly said yet again. She was really getting worried now.

"No, nothing's wrong Mum," Percy replied, trying to sound cheerful. "Just tired, that's all."

"Oh. All right. Maybe you should go to sleep earlier tonight, you need your rest you know..."

Percy touched his mark again, and winced as a sharp pain shot through his arm. This would be the thing that would grant him his power, he was sure of that. It would all be proven when he would be called for the first time.

He wondered why Voldemort had chosen to initiate him as a servant. Maybe he needed someone within enemy lines, someone who could supply him with information about the doings of the Ministry.

One thing was for sure. He would make sure he was never ignored again. Everyone would know the name of Percy Weasley.

Disclaimer: Anything that is from Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

AN: *mock glares at the one who accused her of going anti-Slytherin* Um, Draco's on vacation! *thinks of Gryffindor and shivers* The book never really said whether the disappearance of Mr. Crouch was announced to the rest of the world. It might not have. And then Voldemort could give instructions to Percy, since Percy still thinks his boss is alive. Review?