(August)

Percy couldn't recall a time when he felt normal, when the anxiety hadn't been spiking, a feeling washing over him like icy water, where he wasn't on alert constantly in case of any abrupt danger. He couldn't remember when he hadn't felt like he was being sucked in a deep, dark hole that was trying to swallow him and no matter how much he cried, how loud his screams were, no one heard him. No one did anything to help him. They let him fall.

He supposed he'd been falling for quite some time, all while putting on a face of faux happiness that no one questioned, no one thought to ask or thought twice about.

He couldn't blame them, not at all.

The Burrow had settled down for the night.

They'd eaten a late dinner, after a day of cleaning, tending to the garden and going through their trunks one last time to be sure that they packed everything they needed and wouldn't need to hurriedly owl their parents just minutes prior to the start of class because they'd forgotten their transfiguration materials.

(Fred was guilty of that last year, so their mother hounded him twice as much this year, much to his annoyance).

She'd sent them off to bed earlier than they had been going all summer, saying over the loud protests of his siblings that they were going to be up bright and early the next morning and needed their rest-though, they'd say otherwise. It took a great deal to get all the Weasleys out the door in a timely manner, without someone suddenly remembering that they'd forgotten something or someone dawdling despite that they'd been told multiple times to get a move on it.

All the lights had been turned off with a flick of their mum's wand, plunging the house into darkness. Everyone tucked themselves into their beds and the noise dissipated into a sound of silence that was rather rare for the household. All seemed well. All seemed to be at peace. Everyone was ready to leave for the train station tomorrow-for Hogwarts. Another year of thrills, Quidditch games and reunions with friends that they hadn't seen since the start of the summer holiday.

However, one boy wasn't as thrilled as the rest.

In one of the rooms, all the way down the hall with the door shut, was one Percy Weasley. A candle was lit, sitting on the corner of his work desk, nearly burnt out, though he'd hardly noticed. For the past half hour he stayed in the same position: sitting on the floor, back leaning against his bed and his knees were brought up to his chest with his arms wrapped around them. He was gripping them with a death hold, his knuckles turning a sickly white.

All throughout the day he'd dealt with that familiar feeling like he was being choked, as if it had wrapped itself around his body and bound him. The walls had seemingly become closer, closer until he believed that he was trapped.

He'd listened to the excited chatter from his siblings from the moment he went downstairs for breakfast. The twins had some...ideas they wished to try out, that their friend and partner in crime, Lee Jordan, helped to come up with (some of which was going to be used against the Slytherins. Percy heard that mutter between them, of which they tried not to be so loud that their mum would hear them). Ron couldn't wait to see Harry and Hermione again, after writing to them all summer but not receiving that much of a response-Hermione was on holiday with her parents and Harry's letters had been sparse and short.

(Percy thought he heard Ron muttering about how Dobby, whomever that was, better not be stealing Harry's mail again and was going to ask for clarification on that but thought better of it. Better to disregard it completely than risk a confrontation because he was being nosy and sticking his nose where it didn't belong).

As for Ginny, she was preparing for an easy-going year than her first year had been. Their mum had been a bit...clingy with Ginny, her eyes going glossy at random moments when she'd look over at her daughter. Ginny would grimace when she was abruptly pulled into an embrace, pleading with her eyes toward her brother's for help.

(The twins would only worsen things, to the surprise of no one).

But Percy, as he half-heartedly listened and poked at his egg, couldn't bring himself to join in. Couldn't answer their mum with a genuine smile if he was excited, too, especially now that he'd been made Head-Boy.

Of course he'd been Head-Boy. It was predictable. He was predictable. He was supposed to be Head-Boy. People like him did that sort of thing. If he hadn't, his parents would've questioned it.

Or they would have been worse.

Strained, placating smiles that one would do when they didn't want to be rude and awkward pats on his shoulder.

His siblings would have a field day, taunting him, asking him how he managed to fail and their cruel, mocking laughter would reach his ears-

But he digressed.

He wasn't looking forward to school, he wasn't looking forward to the inevitable humiliation he was subjected to by the twins every year since they'd started. There was always some prank that was done at his expense and his cheeks would burn as everyone else laughed. Oh, he remembered third year when the twins were first years. They got into much trouble back than just like they did now. That day they had been messing around with some spell that was supposed to spell Percy the Prat on his back and had been horribly botched-right in the middle of the common room, his pants came down and he stood there in his underwear.

Fred and George howled with laughter, as did most of the others who did a poor job of hiding it. He'd frozen right then and there, his face heating up immediately and the scolding that should've come got stuck in his throat.

He felt like he was barely able to breathe.

Their mum sent them a howler, which ended up being more embarrassing for Percy than it was supposed to have been for Fred and George. They'd certainly gotten a number of those and were desensitized as a result. He'd ducked his head down when it came, feeling like he wished the floor would swallow him whole.

Don't bother your brother, she'd screeched, which echoed throughout the hall. Behave, the two of you. I mean it. I'll be informing your father about this!

That was it.

No rightfully deserved punishment for humiliating him; for one of them sharing it with a fellow Gryffindor that hadn't been around at the time and for it getting spread around the school that Percy Weasley was in his underwear in the common room.

It was weeks before it died down but it felt like a lifetime until it came to a point when people wouldn't point at him and the Slytherin's didn't say, Hey Weasley, keep your pants on you, eh?

A sense of uneasiness loomed over him as his gaze fell back on his plate. He felt nauseous, hardly able to finish his food. But he had to. He had to or else it would raise questions. His mum would inquire why he wasn't eating, if he was alright. The twins would pick at him for it, ask him if he was too good for their mum's cooking.

So, he ate slowly. Eyes lowered to his plate, making sure he was doing nothing that could be called out on or noticed. It was a routine he'd been trying to stick to so no one needlessly bothered him, pointing out anything he was doing that they perceived as wrong.

His siblings must have thought he was being a stick in the mud for not joining in on their conversation and keeping to himself. They'd not reacted well to the news that he'd been chosen as Head-Boy. Their scoffs and eye rolls hurt. They assumed that he would make them miserable, now that he was placed in charge again.

He'd hid the hurt that was nipping at him, putting on an even facial expression, pretending that he hadn't heard a thing, that he wasn't swallowing back a lump because he'd heard those remarks all too often.

In the same respect, it was best that kept to himself and did little to associate with them. It was just better for all of them that it stayed that way. His siblings had a tendency to become easily annoyed by his presence, though, that was more so the twins and Ron.

When she was quite younger, still waddling around the house with her hair bewitched into pigtails and dressed in some hand-me-down toddler outfits her brother's had used before her, Ginny had been his buddy. She'd liked to stay with him and sit in his lap as he read to her. They spent majority of their childhood together; Percy took his big brother duties seriously and was adamant on showing Ginny everything she would need to know, to the point that, on a few occasions, his dad had to point out that she still had plenty of time learn without it being shoved onto her right this minute.

"Son, son," his dad gently took a hold of his arm, effectively stopping him in his tracks. He and Ginny had been going through one of Bill's old school books and Ginny was having great difficulty pronouncing the names of spells and such. Admittedly, Percy had grown a smidgen impatient, trying to get his sister to understand that she was going to need to know that stuff. Ginny's apologetic cries had grabbed the attention of their parents and he'd heard his mum tell his dad to go in there and sort it out. "You must give your sister a break. She's only a child."

"I know," Percy frowned, looking toward the floor, a flush of shame coming over him. "I just want her to learn."

"I know," his dad said kindly, "but she will in time. You mustn't be so hard on her."

"I-I didn't mean," he'd whispered.

The first time he had been told, Percy vividly recalled the figurative punch to his stomach, the first of many brutal blows that was the beginning of what would shatter him completely. He hadn't been trying to shove it on her, he was merely a bit over excited. Weren't big brothers supposed to help their little siblings? Looking back, he realized where he'd gone wrong, where he should have been a little less zealous, but his heart had been in the right place. He'd only wanted the best for her.

And as time passed, with Bill and Charlie graduating and everyone else slowly growing up and finding their own interests, Ginny started to find other things to do besides staying at Percy's side all day. She would listen attentively to the twins plotting their latest scheme, giggling conspiratorially, only to quiet down immediately (although in a way that was far from subtle), upon his entrance in the room.

She thought of him as boring. She no longer wanted to sit down and read one of those thick school books for fun anymore and if it was a beautifully, sunny day that was perfect for a game of Quidditch, she didn't invite him to come along. None of his siblings thought to ask if he wanted to join, never mind the fact that he did enjoy it, too. He was left on the sidelines, left to his own amusement. He'd stop whatever he was doing, hearing their gleeful laughter and spot them flying past one of the windows.

"Get it, all of you," their mum ordered, motioning with her hands. "Your food's getting cold."

His siblings trickled in one-by-one, sweaty, breathless and having a playful argument over who technically won. They sat down in their unofficial-yet official seats, not acknowledging Percy's presence, not having any sudden epiphany occurring that they'd forgotten all about him.

Percy pushed at his pile of mashed potatoes with his fork gloomily. It would have been nice for them to inquire if he wanted to play as well. He quite liked the game, even though he wasn't as athletically gifted as everyone else. They hadn't thought of him, not for a second.

"Percy, Dear, is something wrong?" his mum asked with concern. "You've not touched your food yet."

Ron was stubbornly refusing to admit his apparent defeat and the twins-in unison-were calling him a sore loser in a sing-song voice. Ginny was laughing at Ron's expense, doing a horrible job at smothering her giggles when their dad warned her that her volume was getting a tad too high.

Percy couldn't remember the last time he and his siblings had a moment like that. He couldn't remember the last time he'd teased them good-naturedly or affectionately ruffled their hair or initiated a game of Quidditch that would start in the morning and go until it was time for supper.

He couldn't remember because those sweet, precious moments he'd shared with them, became less and less as time went on.

"I'm fine," Percy lied, "just tired."

His mum accepted that and she went on to scold the twins for causing Ginny to laugh so hard she squirted pumpkin juice out of her nose.

It'd hurt him tremendously that Ginny didn't seek him out anymore. She didn't outright display any attitude that suggested she regarded him with disdain-not like the others did oftentimes, but she certainly didn't open her arms wide and screech his name, albeit in a way that was easier for her to pronounce, hugging him around his middle. She didn't seem like she liked him anymore. She'd found the twins to be far more entertaining, thus, she spent the majority of her time with them.

And the twins, they thought it was amusing that Ginny had abandoned him. Frequently, obnoxiously, they asked Ginny loudly if Percy had bored her to death whenever he was in the general vicinity.

Their parents did nothing more than merely telling them to stop.

As if that was going to curb the behavior. Fred and George would glance amusedly at one another, perhaps momentarily stopping but they'd be back to doing it again before the day would end. There was no harsh punishment to make sure that they understood the behavior wouldn't be tolerated or a lecture that he would have gotten if the roles were reversed.

He didn't have to speculate anything, he knew. He just knew it would happen.

Though, after a while, he began to wonder, wonder if he was the problem and not the twins.

You're so uptight

No wonder everyone gets annoyed

You can't take a little joke

What's the matter with you?

No one else is like you

No one else wants to be you

Ever think that your parents don't do anything because it doesn't matter and you're just making it a big deal?

Was that the issue? Was he being his own worst enemy and making life difficult?

Maybe he was being too hard on them. Maybe he needed to loosen up. Maybe he just really needed not to be so uptight. Maybe if he did that, his siblings would like him again. Maybe his family would like him again. When Bill and Charlie would visit, they didn't focus too much on Percy. They were wrestling with the boys or starting Quidditch games or Bill was sitting at the table with their parents, discussing his job-

Neither of his brothers were purposefully rude. They greeted him and gave him a light punch to the shoulder as a goodbye. They would offhandedly ask him what he was reading if they came by and noticed he was sitting around with a book. But they didn't have the same connection with him that their younger siblings did. It was drastically different.

They acted silly around their younger siblings.

They acted almost awkward around Percy, like he was some outsider that was graciously allowed to stay at the Burrow.

It hurt, naturally. He'd sat up at night, wondering what he'd done. Wondering if he could fix it. It couldn't have been the age difference between them. Bill was a decade older than Ginny but they got along well. There was something that all of them had in common. Something that was excluding Percy and shoving him to the side. Something that was separating them as a reminder that Percy didn't belong, that he wasn't one of them.

Tears pricked behind his eyes. He wiped at his face with his arm, feeling awfully foolish. He was seventeen years old, for Merlin's sake! He was elected as Head-Boy and there he was, sitting up in his bedroom and crying like a small child. And over what? He didn't even know. There just came moments where his chest would constrict, his throat would tighten and he'd feel overwhelmed to the point of tears.

But he couldn't tell anyone. He couldn't pull either of his parents aside and admit to what was going on for any guidance. What if someone heard? He would have never lived it down if the twins or Ron overheard him.

He dreaded to think of the consequences.

They would have used it against him, blurt it out during school and insist that was purely accidental-they hadn't meant to say anything and he should just calm down.

Calm down. It was something that was thrown at him quite frequently, whether sternly or exasperatedly. Percy would shrink, his expression a mixture of embarrassment and regret and nod as appropriate while trying to block out any giggling that was being directed toward him.

You're too serious, his parents would say. Bill had remarked on that very thing once during a visit.

Relax a bit son, his dad would say gently.

Take it easy

You're so stressed

Didn't they know that Percy was trying? Didn't they see his efforts? He was trying not to be so stressed and worked up. He'd done everything he knew to do! Nothing he did could begin to curb the rope that had wounded itself around him, gripping him tighter with each new stressor that came right at him.

It isn't good enough

It's never enough, is it?

They would have noticed if it wasn't you

You're just not as important

You won't ever be

But I want to be, he desperately wanted to be. He wanted to be thought of as important. He wanted to be like his brothers and sister and make their parents proud of him.

Proud.

It wasn't a word that came off from his parents' lips often, not toward him, anyway. They'd been plenty proud of Bill; his exceptional grades, how he'd been Prefect and Head-Boy and still had a blazing social life.

They'd been proud of Charlie; a Prefect and a seeker for the Quidditch team. Everyone else just thought Charlie was so bloody cool and now he was off working with dragons in Romania.

They were even proud of the twins, for Merlin's sake! Even amidst the shenanigans they'd pulled over the years.

He'd heard it once, when he'd received word that he was made a Prefect, and that was in response to something snarky one of the twins had said, spoken almost like his mum was trying to sound convincing for his sake.

Because you're a worthless piece of rubbish

He'd left his bedroom window open halfway; a gust of wind swept through and the barely lit candle on his desk was blown out, leaving him surrounded in darkness except for the moonlight that steeped in from underneath the window curtains, softly enveloping the room in a silvery hug.

He was tired of feeling invisible.

He was tired of being hidden behind the greatness of his family, while he trailed from behind, no talent or greatness of his own. He was just ordinary. He paled dramatically in comparison. He yearned to be regarded as important, as extraordinary, as-

As a part of the family

Percy crawled into his bed, laying directly on his back, staring blankly up at the ceiling.

Tomorrow evening he'd be back in the Great Hall of Hogwarts, surrounded by other fellow students, faculty, and ghosts. He'd be subconsciously tapping his foot underneath the table, counting down the seconds until he could retreat to his dormitory, trying to breathe properly when it felt like a huge weight had settled itself on his chest; trying to keep his focal point on whomever was speaking and not cower under the eyes that were surely watching him-

No one else was aware of his struggling, of how he would panic when he had to step foot through the tightly crowded corridors in between classes; of how the stress of keeping up with his homework that piled up on him was growing too much to bear but he also couldn't afford to slack, not with his Head-Boy title. He'd lose the respect of his Professors and his parents and everything would really begin to spiral then...

He inhaled sharply, grasping the bedsheet. Exhaustion was creeping up upon him, though the rampant thoughts swirling around his head kept him from drifting off into a peaceful slumber.

It was times like these that he craved a human presence; not often did he feel an urgent need, even less than did he succumb to those urges.

You have no one

Because no one wants to be around Percy the Bookworm

Percy the Prat

Percy the Perfect Prefect

Percy the Stick in the Mud

Percy the Buzzkill

He closed his eyes.

His sanity was like sand, slipping through his fingers until he no longer had a solid grasp on reality.

Here are a few things to know!

- No bashing. The Weasleys might not always be portrayed in a positive way but I'm not bashing them. Percy is just...not in a good headspace right now

- I have twenty chapters done so far as of the publish date of this fic. I'll posting every Friday. In the meantime I hope to keep writing more so I can keep this schedule

-this has dark themes obviously so be warned

-This will kinda alternate between Percy's and Oliver's POV. Mostly percy's but every once and a while I'll sprinkle in Oliver's

-Except for Lupin appearing, nothing that happened in the book has happened/will happen in this fic. No trip to Egypt or dementors or anything

-i used names from the HP wiki site for the other prefects but don't worry, they're not gonna appear a lot. This is mainly about Oliver and Percy (and eventually Percy and family)