A/N: While I was writing Sick Of Second Best I started feeling sorry for Percy. So here's Percy's view of events. I know not everything lines up exactly with the books, but I'm assuming Ron was being biased when he explained what happened in the books, and Percy is being slightly biased in this story.
It's kinda a songfic. Not really though. The song is "The Hardest Thing" by 98 Degrees.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
I was blinded by my ambition. I realize that now. Before you judge me too quickly listen to my story.
As any of my family members will tell you, I've always been a stickler for the rules, an overachiever, a bookworm, and somewhat of a tattletale. I'm perfectly aware of that, and it doesn't bother me.
Before you roll your eyes and blow me off you have to understand something. When I was growing up I was always shunted to the side. I always had to watch the others play with each other. I had a better bond with Mum because of this, but I still wished I was accepted into my siblings' world.
I wasn't excluded because my siblings were mean. I was excluded because of when I was born. In our family each kid had pretty much one playmate. It was my bad luck to be born right after Bill and Charlie and right before the twins. Bill and Charlie already had their bond going strong by the time I came along, and when the twins came they obviously were inseparable. Ron came along four years later, so he was too young for me to play with, and besides, Ginny came along a year later.
So that left me, the odd Weasley out. I spent more and more time with Mum, and she started to teach me how to read, to do math, and how dangerous flying was.
I wish I hadn't listened.
That was another thing I was excluded from. I heeded my mother's warnings and never took up quidditch like the remainder of my family. While my brothers (and occasionally sister) were outside flying I holed myself up in my room, reading.
Because I was different from the rest of my family I was usually the target of Fred and George's pranks. You try not becoming a tattletale with Fred and George as your younger brothers.
A few months before I got my Hogwarts letter I was sitting in my room, gazing out my window at my brothers soaring around on their brooms. My concentration was broken by five-year-old Ginny walking into my room. She followed my gaze and then we engaged in a conversation that I still remember vividly.
"Percy?" She asked innocently.
"Yeah Ginny?" I said, lifting her to sit on my bed beside me.
"Why don't you ever play with them?" She asked, looking up at me with her big brown eyes.
"I have a different idea of playing." I said sadly.
"But flying's so much fun!" She said. "Bill took me for a ride yesterday. It's the funnest thing in the world!"
"There are other ways to fly Ginny!" I yelled. Immediately I regretted it, as I saw her eyes fill with tears. She ran out of my room and I was left alone…again. That's when I made my decision. I would fly in a way my siblings never could. I would climb the levels in the ministry until I, Percy Weasley, was the Minister of Magic. I shot a last determined look out my window. Ron was flying around on his toy broomstick, toes skimming the grass, as he looked longingly at his brothers flying above him. I vowed that one day my siblings would look up to me like that.
My years at Hogwarts were purely used to rack up good grades and awards that would look good on a Ministry application. All went as planned, I made excellent grades, was made Prefect, and eventually Head Boy.
Then I joined the Ministry. Department for International Cooperation. It was a very good position for a young man fresh out of Hogwarts, and I was eager to prove myself. I spent ages at the office, worked overtime whenever possible, and eventually became Mr. Crouch's personal assistant. I was extremely excited and when Mr. Crouch became ill I jumped at the chance to act in his stead. Some may say I was daft for not realizing Mr. Crouch was being controlled by You-Know-Who, but it wasn't as obvious as they make it out to be. Mr. Crouch had been looking bad for weeks, and then one day he simply sent in an owl with what needed to be done. How was I to know he wasn't acting with his own free will?
Well, after the Crouch fiasco I was frightened my future at the Ministry was shot. Luckily the Minister handpicked me to be his junior assistant. He told me to be wary of those who would try to convince me Potter's cock-and-bull story was true. He made it clear that if one wanted to advance in the Ministry they needed to separate themselves from such people. He said he could count on me to uphold the truth and to not be tainted by those who say otherwise. I accepted the post without question, not thinking of what I was awaiting at home.
I announced my good news over dinner. Instead of the glowing praise I was expecting, instead of finally gaining my siblings' respect, my father made it clear that he believed Dumbledore, and that anyone under his roof would do the same.
I was shocked. I thought that with my promotion in the Ministry my parents would realize the Ministry knew what they were doing. I didn't expect them to stand by Dumbledore's flimsy tale.
It got worse.
My father went on to tell me that Mr. Fudge didn't choose me because of the years of hard work I put in, not because of the qualifications I had, but because he wanted a spy in Dumbledore's midst.
My father wasn't proud of me. I looked at my siblings' faces. They were looking at me in disgust. My mother was the only one whose face remained impassive.
"Mum?" I asked weakly.
She sighed. "Percy, Dumbledore deserves our complete trust and I don't know if I feel comfortable with you taking this position."
I couldn't believe it. This is what I had wanted for as long as I could remember and they were disappointed in me? Then I realized they were doing the exact thing Mr. Fudge warned me about. I couldn't stay here and keep my job. I was lost. Prefects Who Gained Power said nothing on this subject. I looked around at my siblings. No glimmer of respect was on their faces.
I had to keep my job. My lifelong wish had always been to gain the respect of my siblings. The only way I saw to achieve that was becoming Minister. I swallowed. I had to keep my job. It was for the best. However much I loved my family I had to put that on the back burner. Now it was time to shoulder responsibility, to finally work on achieving my dream. I had to keep my job.
"I'm leaving." I said roughly and stood up.
My heart broke as I saw the look on my mother's face, but I kept my emotions hidden.
It's the hardest thing
I'll ever have to do
To look you in the eye
And tell you I don't love you
"What?" My father said, confused.
"I…am…leaving." I said patronizingly, and made my way to my room. My father followed, yelling at me.
"Percy Ignatius Weasley! Get back down to the table and finish your dinner! Enough with this nonsense!" He called to my back.
The row to end all rows followed. I can't remember half the things I said but I'm sure they were all horrible. Finally I slammed the lid of my trunk closed and levitated it down the stairs. It was then that my father fully realized the fact I was leaving.
"Percy!" He called gently after me, "Wait, let's talk about this rationally."
"I have been rational my whole life, and this is no exception." I said icily. "I have been offered a job on a condition: I can't associate with those who believe the atrocity Dumbledore is trying to feed the wizarding world. Rationally I can't stay with people who defend him."
I turned to the rest of my family who was gathered at the foot of the stairs. Fred and George looked like they were about to murder me. Ron had slightly dazed expression on his face. Ginny's eyes were filled with tears but she refused to let them overflow. Mum, however had tears streaming down her face.
It's the hardest thing
I'll ever have to lie
To show no emotionWhen you start to cry
"Good bye." I said flatly, and slammed the door behind me.
I was blinded by my ambition and I am sorry. I'm sorry for the things I said. I'm sorry for the things I didn't say. I'm sorry for all the things I did.
I'm not sorry for the reason I did them. Perhaps you can respect me now that I've realized my mistakes and am begging forgiveness.
Perhaps you can even forgive me.
I'm sorry Mum. I'm sorry Dad. I'm sorry Bill. I'm sorry Charlie. I'm sorry Fred. I'm sorry George. I'm sorry Ron. I'm sorry Ginny.
I can understand if you never want to see or speak to me again, and I wouldn't blame you.
However, I still hope you find it in your heart to forgive me. I still hope you've never stopped loving me, as I've never stopped loving you.
A/N: See? Percy's really not that bad. Ok, review if you want. Thanks!
