She didn't make Prefect this year.

It wasn't particularly crushing. It wasn't as if she had been trying to make it. It wasn't a dream of hers, so all hope wasn't lost when all that came that morning was this year's supply list. There was no disappointment on Lucy's end.

A tiny part of her was immensely relieved, followed by another part of her that chided herself for feeling that way. Other students would kill to get a leadership position like that; it would look good on a resume, and here she was, whinging about it because she didn't want it. Who did that kind of thing?

She did. She did because of the impending, inevitable reaction that was to come.

Lucy wasn't like her sister. She wasn't half as outgoing or loud or rough. And she most definitely didn't have the same anger problems that Molly had. In fact, most people within the family said that other than her appearance in which she was their dad's spitting image, Molly was nothing like him. Uncle George found that to be hilarious, for some reason. He liked to tease Dad about it all the time, but Dad was pretty good-natured about it.

Was he going to tease Dad for this too? Because he'd been a prefect and now neither of his daughters were?

Growing up, Lucy was compared many, many times to her dad. She supposed it was natural, but she wished it wasn't. She loved her dad, she loved it dearly and he was her very best friend, as cliche as it was-but she did not want to be compared to him. She didn't want her own accomplishments to feel smaller, feel less proud about them because they weren't up to what her dad had done at her age.

Because that's exactly how it felt! She didn't used to think that way. She used to brush off the comparisons. It didn't matter to her. Not really. Not until Molly got her O.W.L results back. It was well known their dad received twelve, him and their Uncle Bill. Her sister wound up with seven. Their dad was ecstatic for her, saying how proud he was and arranged for them to go out for Molly's favorite dinner. They went over to the Burrow for a bit of a celebration on that Sunday after and Lucy overheard the adults discussing her sister's achievements.

She wasn't happy with what she heard.

"Seven?" Uncle Ron was surprised. That's it?"

"What's wrong with that?" Uncle Charlie asked. "Wouldn't think you'd care about anything like that."

"Nothing," Uncle Ron said quickly. "M'just surprised is all."

"Surprised why?" Dad wondered.

"I'm a bit shocked myself," Aunt Ginny admitted.

"Me too," Uncle George echoed. "Would've thought your kid would have twelve of them just like you."

"Not every child grows up to be just like their parents," Aunt Hermione said. "Although I would've thought Molly would have. It's typical for older children to do that."

"There's always Lucy," Aunt Angelina said.

"Right," Aunt Ginny said. "She's got her head in a book. Just like Percy when he was her age."

Lucy almost didn't think her dad was going to speak up, but then he did.

"I certainly don't expect Molly or Lucy to be like me," Dad said. "Whatever they get, I'm happy as long as they tried."

It felt like they were minimizing what Molly had done. She wasn't the smartest Weasley, but she didn't have to be. She struggled a bit in class, partly because she had a horridly short attention span and simply wasn't interested in sitting in a classroom, listening to their professor drone on about whatever the lesson was about. But still. She'd gotten that much; what was wrong with it? Why did it matter that she didn't get as much as Dad did? It wasn't any less impressive.

From then on, Lucy was less vocal about things she did in school. She told her dad, but she slowly stopped sharing things to the rest of the family. She doubted that they noticed. There were too many kids in the family for them to see if she was out of sorts. Dad had noticed something different about her. He was annoyingly perspective like that. She knew that he knew something was amiss because of the recent hugging. It wasn't to say that they never hugged-because they did, he was always trying to make sure she and Molly knew how loved they were-but when she or her sister were upset by something, he never made them talk about it. He didn't push it. He would gently hug them, holding them in the embrace for a few seconds, just to silently communicate that he was there for them.

No one had any expectations for Molly to become a prefect or Head-Girl. Lucy had taken that personally on behalf of her sister. It was one thing coming from Dad; she knew he never meant any harm by it. It was because of his past that he changed his ways and his thoughts. He'd admitted on a previous occasion how being a prefect and later head-boy had been the most important goals he'd ever set for himself. He didn't want either of them to be like that.

And she understood.

But when it came to everyone else...it was different. It felt like a huge insult toward Molly. Like they believed her to be incapable of it or something. Lucy hadn't liked it. Not one bit. However, so far, those doubtful family members have been right. Her sister was never chosen for prefect, not that she ever wanted to be. More than once, she scoffed derisively at the mere idea. Although, back in the summer before Molly's fifth year, Uncle Ron had offhandedly said it could still be a possibility. After all, he'd been in a prefect back in his fifth year. His remark had set off some chuckles and head shakes that Lucy supposed she wouldn't understand because it was one of those things she had to be there for.

Molly was now going into her seventh year. She wasn't selected to be Gryffindor's Head-Girl either, but that was still fine with her. She was made to be captain for the house's quidditch team, which she found to be much more satisfactory. She'd thrown her fist in the air, yelling out a yes when she got the letter along with her school supply list. Dad was proud of her for that, of course. He'd never played during his own school years but that didn't mean he wasn't a fan of it.

She was happy for Molly, really, she was. Privately relieved that her sister hadn't buckled under the-what it felt like sometimes-intense pressure that came from the family. She didn't do what they expected her to do, she did what she wanted-mostly. However, one drawback to that was that the expectation was going to now fall on Lucy. It was just so frustrating. She knew this wasn't necessarily on purpose. None of the family probably realized she felt that and they likely wouldn't have ever wanted to feel that way. It was all unintentional. But it was happening. It was happening and it felt overwhelming at times.

She wasn't her dad's twin. She wished people would see her beyond her dad. Yes, she cared about her grades-more so than Molly, that was for sure-yes, she liked to read and at times, she had a thirst for knowledge. But it was different. She had interests and hobbies that he never had, but he supported nonetheless. Why did the family just assume that she would go on to be just like him?

After a while, doubt began to creep up. She wondered if Dad thought the same. Wondered if he'd hoped that since Molly was most definitely her own person, that he thought Lucy would take after him in more ways than one and just never said anything about it.

It made her stomach feel woozy.

Was he going to be disappointed in her? The topic of being prefect never came up between them. Not once. But that didn't mean he hadn't secretly hoped for it. She knew her dad had many scholarly achievements-how could she forget? The family had brought it up before. If Molly couldn't fulfill them, she would have been expected to. She would be the one to follow in his footsteps.

Even if they were much steeper than she ever would have imagined.

In all honesty, Lucy would have preferred that the subject never be brought up. She didn't want to tell them, didn't want them to know. She envisioned the tight, semi awkward smiles, confused facial expressions, the halted conversation where no one knew what to say next. It would happen, all of it, once they knew she wasn't what they thought of her to be. It was why she dreaded going to this Sunday's dinner.

There was no getting out of it. Everyone was to come. The adults had to have a really good excuse not to and there was nothing short of being sick that could prevent the kids from going. She knew that because Molly had complained before when she was younger about wanting to stay home for a reason that now Lucy couldn't remember what it was; Dad had taken her aside to quietly, calmly tell her why it was important to go.

As the days passed, inching closer and closer, the knot in her stomach grew bigger. On the day of, Lucy's feet drug as she and her sister prepared to go. She lagged behind, murmuring to her dad that she'd go last in the floo, trying to avoid his concerned glance by ducking her head.

She just wanted to get it all over with.

/

"I assume you all have your Hogwarts letters?" Granddad said when they were all seated and already having dug into the food.

There was a murmur of agreement, some of the younger cousins looking quite jealous. Lucy slouched in her chair a little, deliberately ignoring the way her Aunt Angelina tapped at her leg underneath the table, signaling her to sit back up. She'd been relatively quiet since they got there, only speaking when spoken to and faking a smile when need be.

"I was made quidditch captain," Molly said happily.

There was some enthusiasm from her quidditch loving uncles and aunts.

"That's brilliant!" Uncle Ron exclaimed.

Aunt Ginny grinned. "Don't show those other brats-kids" She corrected herself when Grandmum looked exasperatedly in her direction, "any mercy."

Lucy wasn't caught off guard by hearing that. Aunt Ginny was positively ruthless when it came to quidditch and had a mouth that would've made a Slytherin blush.

Dad rolled his eyes but there was a hint of a smile on his lips. "She doesn't need any encouragement there. She's brutal enough as is."

Molly beamed at what she perceived was a praise.

"You're so lucky," Louis said.

"I wish I was going to Hogwarts," Lily whined, not for the first time.

Jamie sat up eagerly. "I'm going to be on the team this year! I just know it-"

Molly cut him off. "You can if you're good enough. You're not getting on just because we're cousins. I'm not risking losing the cup."

She had what Dad said was a viper tongue at times. Aunt Angelina and Aunt Hermione frowned at her tone but no one else was bothered. Dad sighed a little.

"You tell him, Molly," Uncle Ron said encouragingly.

"Are we sure she's not Oliver's spawn?" Uncle George asked no one in particular, sending off a wave of laughter.

Dad laughed at that, too. Lucy recalled that he and Uncle Oliver were dormmates.

"One tip, Molly," Uncle Harry said with a grin. "Never get a whistle, alright?"

"Oh, Merlin, that bloody thing," Dad muttered.

Meanwhile, Jamie was pouting somewhat at what Molly had said. So Aunt Ginny stepped in to say, nodding her head in agreement, "She's right, James. She has to be fair."

Jamie sighed heavily.

"Do you have any plans now that you've graduated, Teddy?" Aunt Hermione changed the subject to avoid any conflicts or explosions.

Teddy rubbed the back of his neck. "Er, well, I've been accepted into the auror training program."

He received several congratulations from the family. Uncle Harry was particularly proud of him. But Teddy was modest about it. "Thanks," he said.

"That's splendid!" Grandmum clasped her hands together. "We're all very proud of you, dear."

"Thanks," he said again, smiling bashfully.

Lucy thought she was in the clear. No one had said anything about it yet. But of course she wasn't.

"Speaking of Hogwarts, do we, perhaps, have a prefect in the family?" Grandmum said hopefully.

Lucy swore she felt all eyes on her. She was the only incoming Weasley fifth year and thus, it would fall to her and no one else. It was something she couldn't deny that she felt greatly bitter about. Molly was glancing at her from across the table with a frown. Teddy was looking at her as well, his face soft with concern.

Those two were the only ones to know how she truly felt. Lucy had confided in her sister after the O.W.L incident. Teddy knowing wasn't by choice. Apparently, he'd known something was up, judging by the supposedly odd way she was acting. From there, she spilled everything to him. He was like an older brother to her. Not by much, he was only a year older than Molly. But it was nice to have someone that wasn't her sister to go to sometimes. Molly was just entirely too much...Molly at times.

"Lucy?"

She was snapped out of her daydream. They really were looking at her this time.

"Er," she took a drink of her pumpkin juice at the last minute, purposefully stalling.

"Did you make prefect this year?" Aunt Hermione asked her.

Well, she couldn't hide it anymore, could she?

"No," she eventually said with an edge to her voice.

"You know," Teddy started to say as a way to divert the attention (she was grateful for his attempt), "I couldn't decide if I wanted to join the auror program or take up teaching-"

"You didn't make Prefect?" Grandmum asked, clearly upset for her.

"Huh," Uncle Ron said. "Would've thought Percy's kid would be an automatic pick."

"Why do I feel like that was an insult?' Dad said dryly.

"Oh, Lucy, I'm sorry," Aunt Hermione frowned.

She needn't be. It was fine. She didn't want it anyway.

"Well you've still got another year," Aunt Angelina gave her a hug but she did not reciprocate. She stiffened but her aunt didn't seem to notice.

"I'm sure you'll get Head-Girl," Grandmum said, trying to be reassuring.

Uncle George lightly-or not so lightly considering Dad winced-punched Dad's shoulder. "Hope you're not too disappointed, Perce."

"Of course not," Dad said, giving Uncle George a look for that remark. But Lucy's inner paranoia was getting to her. Did he mean it or was he merely trying to act like it didn't affect him?

Lucy started to rub her legs, a habit she did whenever she was overly nervous and it was starting to get to her. It sounded like everyone was speaking at once. She could hardly hear herself think. She tensed up, trying to breathe evenly.

And then she just exploded.

"Shut up!" she shrieked. It startled everyone into silence. "Shut up! Just shut up!"

"Lucy," Dad was looking worried. She would have thought he'd be angry. But he wasn't. "What on earth-"

Lucy stood up, breathing heavily, getting closer and closer to hysteria. "No, I didn't make prefect and I wish you all would bloody shut up about it! I'm not Dad. I'm not Aunt Hermione. I'm not Uncle Bill and I'm tired of being bloody compared all the time!"

The last thing they heard was the door slamming shut behind her.

/

Lucy was openly sobbing into her knees, back leaning against the old chicken coop. She only vaguely heard faint footsteps that slowly approached her. Out of her peripheral vision did she see her dad's shoes. He didn't say anything at first, then he sat down beside her, his knees pulled up to his chest. They sat in silence for who knows long. Lucy drew a circle in the dirt, unable to meet her dad's eyes, feeling ashamed for her outburst.

"How did you know I was here?" Lucy asked quietly.

"Fatherly intuition," he nudged her.

She rolled her eyes.

"I used to come out here a lot," he revealed, looking ahead. "It's a nice spot to read. Peaceful, too."

She sniffled.

Lucy hung her head low. "I'm sorry, Daddy. I know I shouldn't have yelled."

He responded by putting his arm around her and pulling her closer.

"Are you mad at me?"

"No," he said, having no idea just how relieved that made her feel. "But I am wondering what that was all about. I'm assuming this has something to do with how you've been acting lately?"

"You noticed," she mumbled.

"I always notice, honey," he chuckled. "I just didn't know why."

She leaned onto him, wanting, needing to physically be next to her dad. She needed support. "I didn't want to tell you," she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut. A tear fell down her cheek on each side.

"Why?" He frowned. "You know you girls can tell me anything."

"I don't know," she shrugged helplessly. "I just-I'm tired of being compared to you," she locked her bright red eyes with his eyes. "I love you, Dad. But I want people to see me and not your mini-me. Please don't be mad," she rushed those last few words out, apprehensive of his reaction.

She felt herself being gently squeezed. "Oh, Lucy. I'm not mad," Dad assured her.

"You're...not?" She searched his eyes for the lie, even though she knew better. Dad would never lie to her.

"I know what it's like," Dad ran a hand down through her hair, sighing lightly.

"You do?" She said unsurely.

"I wanted so hard to be like your Uncle Charlie and Uncle Bill when I was a first year. They were the cool ones. They had all kinds of friends and were so interesting while I wasn't-" She wanted to protest that it wasn't true, but kept quiet. "Eventually, I wanted to stand out in my own way, but I still felt like I was living in their shadows with this huge expectation that I was going to be just like them."

She didn't know what to say, so she listened.

"It's not easy," he continued after a moment, "when your oldest brother is popular among many and your other brother is a quidditch star in the eyes of many students. Everyone expected me to be outstanding like them in some way. But I wasn't. I wasn't loud. I wasn't gifted with athleticism like Charlie. I kept to myself and stuck my nose in a book whenever possible. It felt worse when the rest of your uncles and Aunt Ginny came to Hogwarts. I felt like I was constantly competing to not be seen as Bill or Charlie's little brother or the bloke with the troublesome brothers or the older brother of Harry Potter's best friend."

He took a deep breath.

"I never felt like anyone saw me beyond that. I wanted to be seen as Percy Weasley, who had paved his own way. It certainly didn't help with any of the other issues I had going on."

She put her head on his shoulder, exhaling.

"But you see, Lucy, I don't want you or Molly to feel that way. I don't want either of you to feel like you need to live up to what I did or any of your family. I want you to be yourself and if you don't become prefect next year or head-girl, then so be it."

"You mean it?" Lucy asked insecurely.

She felt so safe sitting there with his arm around her. It was like a shield. It'd always been like that. Lucy could crawl into her dad's arms as a child, clinging to him and he'd just hold her until everything was okay again. It was a wonderful feeling of stability.

"Absolutely," he promised. A second passed by. "You know," he said and she looked up at him, "Your sister and Teddy were worried about you. They were going to come find you themselves-" He started to laugh slightly, which confused her, "after they were finished yelling, that is."

"They yelled?" Lucy said in amazement.

Dad nodded. "Teddy was quite upset for you."

"So you already knew," Lucy sighed.

"Actually, I didn't. I didn't stay that long to find out why they were yelling. I was more concerned about you," Dad kissed her forehead. She couldn't help but smile. She put her arms around his middle, giving him another hug.

"Thank you," she mumbled.

"For what?"

"For being the best dad," she grinned.

"Well, it helps that I have the best daughter," he winked. "Or daughters, rather."

Lucy sighed contentedly. "Do I have to go back in there?" She imagined it was going to be plenty awkward after all that and Teddy and Molly's yelling.

"Probably," he agreed. "Eventually."

"Eventually?"

Dad stretched his legs out, with Lucy's gaze lingering on him. 'We don't have to go in just yet."

"But Dad, your food..." She felt a bit bad for keeping him out here. He'd only been halfway finished with his plate when she had her outburst.

"Can be warmed up again," he said.

Lucy knew she was extraordinarily lucky to have her Dad. The two of them stayed out there for a while, chatting about everything and anything. She felt lighter than she had in a while and felt ready to face everyone when they went back inside.