I can hear her shouting at them from all the way up here. At least it isn't
about me. I hate it when she starts going on about not bothering Percy,
because she starts telling them all the things I've done right that they've
done wrong. Fred and George- Ron, too- just stand there and smirk at me,
behind her or not there at all, because I haven't the nerve to stand up to
my younger brothers. So Mum does it for me. And they just get worse.
It used to be: Percy the sensitive one, Percy the quiet, clever one. Now it's: Percy the former prefect and Head Boy, Percy the Ministry's newest rising star. Should be: Percy the coward, Percy who hides in his books because he can't handle reality. Is: Percy the accident.
Oh yes, Dad told me when I turned eighteen. They had only planned to have two children. Mum got caught in a Death Eater raid in London, though, and, well, that's why my hair isn't as red as the other Weasleys'. The real Weasleys.
But Mum still loves me. Maybe more than the others. And I try to deserve it, but I just can't. I barely broke Mum's NEWT record, and Bill was Head Boy first. He got it because everyone liked him. My only merit was pure academics, and everybody knew it. And hated me for it.
At the Ministry, everyone knows Dad. And thinks he's round the bend. And guess who's meant to follow in his footsteps? Mr. Crouch, for all he couldn't remember names, was kind to me. Didn't care who I was or about my family, as long as I worked.
So I worked. Worked my little red head off, as Charlie put it. On cauldron bottoms. Very important. It's a well known fact that if the Aurors had used improperly thin cauldrons against the Death Eaters, Voldemort might be in power today. So hurrah for P. Weasley and his cauldron manufacturing standards.
Fred and George are now bounding up the stairs, lecture leaking out their ears. I can only discern one very loud set of footsteps, which means they're walking in unison, which they only do when they're plotting something. And guess who's sitting, ducklike, in his room, working?
"Brother, dear!" The door bursts open. The longest I've known a lock to last around them is two days. So there they stand in all their English schoolboy glory, muscled from Quidditch, well able to beat me in a physical struggle. But they've got little blue slips floating around their magically messy room, because they're going back to Hogwarts next month, so Mum, after five tries, has got their wands.
Shoving my chair back and standing up prevents them hauling me to my feet. They're grinning at me, identical grins, but Fred is on the right. I can always tell them apart; it's one of the few useful talents I possess. The hands are in the pockets, never a good sign with the twins.
I take my wand from my own robe pocket. They ooh appreciatively. Discarding my prefect voice, my Head Boy voice, and my Ministry voice, I come out with something that might be original to my vocal cords: "Let me save you the trouble, guys." I turn my wand around. "'Crucio'"
The world explodes in a haze of pain that is much less real than the one I've been living in for most of my life.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^
Percy, Lord love him, belongs to J. K. Rowling. And a bit to Chris "Perfect Shade of Auburn" Rankin, who portrayed him beautifully in the movies.
G. R.
It used to be: Percy the sensitive one, Percy the quiet, clever one. Now it's: Percy the former prefect and Head Boy, Percy the Ministry's newest rising star. Should be: Percy the coward, Percy who hides in his books because he can't handle reality. Is: Percy the accident.
Oh yes, Dad told me when I turned eighteen. They had only planned to have two children. Mum got caught in a Death Eater raid in London, though, and, well, that's why my hair isn't as red as the other Weasleys'. The real Weasleys.
But Mum still loves me. Maybe more than the others. And I try to deserve it, but I just can't. I barely broke Mum's NEWT record, and Bill was Head Boy first. He got it because everyone liked him. My only merit was pure academics, and everybody knew it. And hated me for it.
At the Ministry, everyone knows Dad. And thinks he's round the bend. And guess who's meant to follow in his footsteps? Mr. Crouch, for all he couldn't remember names, was kind to me. Didn't care who I was or about my family, as long as I worked.
So I worked. Worked my little red head off, as Charlie put it. On cauldron bottoms. Very important. It's a well known fact that if the Aurors had used improperly thin cauldrons against the Death Eaters, Voldemort might be in power today. So hurrah for P. Weasley and his cauldron manufacturing standards.
Fred and George are now bounding up the stairs, lecture leaking out their ears. I can only discern one very loud set of footsteps, which means they're walking in unison, which they only do when they're plotting something. And guess who's sitting, ducklike, in his room, working?
"Brother, dear!" The door bursts open. The longest I've known a lock to last around them is two days. So there they stand in all their English schoolboy glory, muscled from Quidditch, well able to beat me in a physical struggle. But they've got little blue slips floating around their magically messy room, because they're going back to Hogwarts next month, so Mum, after five tries, has got their wands.
Shoving my chair back and standing up prevents them hauling me to my feet. They're grinning at me, identical grins, but Fred is on the right. I can always tell them apart; it's one of the few useful talents I possess. The hands are in the pockets, never a good sign with the twins.
I take my wand from my own robe pocket. They ooh appreciatively. Discarding my prefect voice, my Head Boy voice, and my Ministry voice, I come out with something that might be original to my vocal cords: "Let me save you the trouble, guys." I turn my wand around. "'Crucio'"
The world explodes in a haze of pain that is much less real than the one I've been living in for most of my life.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^
Percy, Lord love him, belongs to J. K. Rowling. And a bit to Chris "Perfect Shade of Auburn" Rankin, who portrayed him beautifully in the movies.
G. R.