(September).
Being the third child out of seven, Percy often found himself yearning for his parents' attention. It was quite difficult to do, being that his four younger siblings took away the majority of his parents' focus and concentration. Of course, he'd understood-in a resigned sort of way. They were only children after all, they needed to be tended to so as to survive. He'd figured, he'd hoped, that once they grew older and needed to depend on them for help less and less, perhaps his mum and dad would be able to spare him a few moments of their time.
For the time being, he settled for assisting his mum in helping with his younger siblings while his dad was away and Bill and Charlie were off at school. Before any of them had been old enough to talk or do any accidental magic, it had been nice for Percy to do some bonding time with his mum-even if that meant changing the nappies or trying to get Fred-or was it George-into drinking all of his bottle when he would stubbornly turn his head. His mum would show him the proper way to hold his brother, beaming brightly at seeing what a natural Percy was.
And it stirred up an array of feelings that made Percy feel as though he'd been given a Pepper-Up potion. He desired to get that same level of praise and acknowledgement for other things, too.
Bill was always getting told how proud their parents were for his grades and their mum had been outright ecstatic when he'd made Head-Boy. She'd baked him a cake, despite his protests, and mailed a letter to all of their relatives, informing them of that latest development.
Even though their mum had a tendency to fret over Charlie getting injured because of quidditch, more so because there had been far too many close calls for her liking, there was no doubt that she was pleased with his achievements. She couldn't go to one of the games, especially not with three young children, but she made sure to send Charlie a letter to congratulate him.
In the last week or so leading up to his first day Hogwarts, Percy had wondered what his niche would be. What category would he fall into that people would define him as? What was their mum going to be subtly-yet not subtly at all-bragging to their relatives about him?
What was going to be different about Percy Weasley?
His arm was numb.
Upon waking up, Percy became acutely aware of that very thing, grimacing from the pins and needles sensation that was shooting up and down his arm like tiny mouthfuls of teeth that were continuously nipping at him.
And it hurt. Percy wasn't fully coherent enough yet to make a rational decision. His brain was still fogged with sleep, his eyelids kept fluttering. The couple hours of rest did nothing and he ached for more.
That sense of feeling refreshed that one was supposed to feel after a night's sleep had stopped coming to him. Oftentimes, he awakened drained. Drained even before the day had properly begun. No one else dealt with that, then again, he'd never asked. Not at the risk of the twins overhearing and believing him to be mental.
He wasn't mental.
He wasn't.
Percy tried to move his fingers but it only made the feeling worse, so he leaned over the side of the bed, draping his arm down the side so the blood flow could return.
Outside of his room, he could vaguely make out the noise of his mum; she passed by his door, knocking on the rest to ensure that everyone was awake and had not simply rolled back over, falling asleep. Ron was notorious for that and Percy could only wonder how he managed to wake up on time for his classes.
You shouldn't talk about others when you have your own faults
His room was adjacent to the twin's room and the walls were dreadfully thin, so Percy was able to hear just about everything. Them plotting for pranks, griping about Professor Snape and his ill temper that resulted in a handful of points being taken away-he'd also heard Fred mentioning to George rather proudly a few weeks prior that he was going to ask Angelina Johnson to Hogsmeade this year.
On a date.
Percy never even knew his brother was interested in girls yet. He supposed it made sense, he was at that age. But the twins were always off causing mischief, coming up with a prank to get back at the Slytherins for-actually, the twins never needed a reason to get back at them.
But he digressed.
He didn't spend the majority of his time eavesdropping listening to their conversations. It just so happened there were times that he did. That also meant he heard things he would have rather he didn't.
How the twins were embarrassed to be related to him and couldn't believe that he was their brother.
Percy could recall vividly the first time they'd said it. He'd told on them, revealed to their mum that they had planned to sneak something into Ron's cup. Ron had been younger at the time, already having been the victim of more than one prank. Percy had merely been concerned for his sake. Ron was traumatized by what the twins-which had actually been more on Fred's part- had done to his teddy bear, attributing to a lifelong fear of spiders.
Their mum had taken the potion away from them and disposed of it. He hadn't expected her to say much beyond leave your brother alone, and she hadn't.
She's always lenient with them. They never get in trouble as much as they should
That's because they're her favorites
She loves them more
More than you
They're going to be extraordinary while you can't even manage to be ordinary
He'd flinched under the hateful glares Fred and George gave him before they stomped back up the stairs, muttering how it was just a joke.
It was always just a joke. It was always that they never meant any harm by it. Neither of the twins took any responsibility for their actions because their parents never made them.
You're a bloody hypocrite
Why haven't you taken responsibility for what you've done?
That night, while doing a bit of extra reading with the textbooks he would be using that year, Percy heard harsh whispering from Fred and George's room. He tried to ignore it, tried to focus on Transfiguration: A Study on A Difficult Field for Beginners, flipping to the next page with more force than necessary.
But then he'd heard his name roll off one of their tongues, practically spit out like acid. The pit of his stomach felt hollow. They were talking about him, about how he'd ruined their joke.
H-he'd done it with the right intentions. Done it to help Ron.
But they didn't see it that way and the walls never lied.
In the solitude of their bedroom, they unleashed their anger and resentment, unaware that their brother was listening with his ear pressed up against the wall, sliding down into a heap; his face impassive.
They called him a buzzkill and a pompous prat.
They said he had a stick permanently stuck up his bum.
But Percy was only looking out for them, having their best interests in heart. Didn't they see that? Didn't they understand?
Percy jumped, startled when his mum's irate voice reached his ears.
"I told you to pack yesterday! What were you doing-oh, never mind that now. You'll have to do it after breakfast I suppose."
Percy's trunk was already neatly packed with all of his belongings he would need for the new school year, pushed up against his wardrobe for the time being, until it was to be brought downstairs for their departure, with the clothes he planned on wearing that day hanging over his desk so as they wouldn't wrinkle from being crumpled.
Neither of his parents ever had to come check up on him to make sure that he was doing what he was supposed to do. No one had to tell him twice, give him multiple reminders and stay right behind him until it was completed. They just knew he'd do it.
Sometimes he wished that wasn't true.
Sometimes, he wished he didn't give his siblings anymore reasons to tease him.
It's your own fault
You try too hard
You're such a suck up
No one wants to be around someone like you
They only tolerate you
They can't wait until you're gone
He tried his bloody best to be a dutiful son, tried so hard to fill the shoes of Bill and Charlie that were far too big and steep for him to ever fulfill.
They'd already left their mark, unknowingly throwing a heap of pressure on their younger siblings where they would be expected to follow in their steps-or come close.
Percy had, for as long as he could remember, felt inadequate in comparison to his brothers. They were everything he wasn't.
His bare feet touched the warm floor as he got out of bed. As it was, his lack of sleep was wearing on him and he was already looking forward to climbing into his bed at Hogwarts, pulling the soft duvet up to his chin and burying half of his face into the pillow. Much more comfortable than his own bed here at the Burrow.
Stop complaining
Other people have less and you have a house and food and clothes
You're so ungrateful
Perfect Prefect Percy is an ungrateful sod
...Percy supposed he was being rather unappreciative. His parents didn't have much, much less than a typical pure-blood family, but they gave their children the best that they could, given the circumstances. Yet, here he was, complaining that his bed wasn't soft enough.
What was wrong with him? Percy covered his face with his palms.
I'm sorry, he thought regretfully. I'm sorry, I'm sorry; Merlin, I'm sorry.
No one else would complain
What would Bill or Charlie think of you if they knew?
He did know. They would be greatly disappointed, that's what. He could visualize their faces, shaking their heads disapprovingly. They'd wonder what went wrong with him.
Frankly, Percy wanted to know that as well.
He decided ahead of time that he would wait until they were halfway finished with the train ride to change into his Hogwarts robes to avoid another incident.
Back in fifth year, when he'd been made Prefect, he'd made a mistake of wearing his school uniform to the train station. He'd just thought...assumed that by showing off his Prefect badge, though feeling less than deserving of such a worthy title, he'd feel...different? Happy? Loved?
He never meant to catch the eye of several muggles.
Later on the day, his dad (who was probably coaxed into it by his mum), wrote him a letter that said next time he should consider wearing his regular clothes-and then his dad had launched into a long-winded explanation of the statute of secrecy and how they couldn't risk someone becoming a tad too curious.
The twins had seen the letter. Instead of taking it up to his dormitory where he could read it in private, he'd opened it right up in the Great Hall, where Fred and George were able to read it over his shoulder. They'd found it simply hilarious that he'd been scolded in a roundabout way and they spent the rest of the day saying over and over, Perfect Percy's in trouble in front of their classmates.
His cheeks had burned. Some had snickered, others-the Slytherins-taunted him for it before they found better things. Marcus Flint had it out for him since first year when he accidentally rammed into Flint's trolley with his own. Percy had been overly excited at finally getting to attend Hogwarts like Bill and Charlie, so he hadn't quite paid attention to where he was steering the contraption.
Flint cornered him that day, the day he got the letter from his dad, taunting him over his slip up and using a spell to throw his books down the hallway. Percy almost thought he was going to have to use magic to get the tosser away from him. Flint had no regard for the rules and wasn't intimidated by his Prefect badge. Thank Merlin, Professor Flitwick was strolling on by at that moment and was able to deescalate the situation. Flint backed off, shoving him as he passed by.
Professor Flitwick had asked Percy if he was alright.
Percy had stood there, contemplating on whether to admit that he was hardly alright and some of it extended from earlier, when the twins had read his letter he'd gotten and announced his wrongdoing to practically the entire castle.
But he didn't.
He didn't give a spiel over how tired and sick he was from how he was targeted by the twins over and over again.
He didn't admit that sometimes during the middle of the night, he broke down and cried.
He gave Professor Flitwick a smile, the kind that he had perfected from years of practice so it didn't look off. The kind that was supposed to seem genuine and reassuring.
And his Professor had bought it.
For the rest of the school year, Percy would wonder. Wonder why he was given the duty of being a Prefect. Fred and George weren't going to listen to him, they stole his badge on numerous occasions. Ron and Ginny thought it was humorous to see Percy chasing after them, demanding-pleading-that they give it back. It was wholly undignified behavior for him to engage in when he was in a position of authority.
It was no wonder that it was difficult for the students to take him seriously.
His school uniform was beside his regular clothes in a state of pristineness. For now. A bit paranoid, he feared that the twins would try and do something to deface it. It might sound silly, to be so worked up and anxious all the time, but he spent far too many times with his guard down and things had happened. Things that were aimed at him.
Sometimes, his mind trailed back to that day and he wondered why his mum didn't object to him wearing his uniform. He should have asked why his mum didn't say anything-but he couldn't.
Because perfect prefect's didn't backtalk their parents.
Perfect.
Perfect.
Merlin, how much he despised that word.
Percy settled for waiting until he was done eating to get dressed. The thought of food was nauseating and he would have rather avoided it more than anything in his anxious anticipation of what was to come later on.
He knew he had to eat something, least of all not to risk fainting on the train or anywhere else until he could safely crawl into bed.
Just think of what everyone would say if you did
Think of what the twins would say
However, skipping a meal would not be acceptable to his mum. She would throw a right fit over it and practically body-bind him to the chair if that's what she felt was best.
You say it as if it's a bad thing
No, but-
Oh, boo hoo. Perfect Percy has a mum who cares about him
Percy flinched.
Perfect Percy
Perfect Prefect Percy
Perfect.
Stop it, he thought fervently. It was like a voice, a real voice inside of his head. The voices were speaking at all once, repeating over and over. The voices were laughing at him and he felt a bit faint. Stop it! STOP IT!
He was going mad.
Barking mad.
One of the most chaotic places in the Burrow was the kitchen and today was no exception.
Percy took a full ten minutes to properly compose himself before he came down those creaky stairs. His siblings were seated in their usual spots, talking more than they were eating-except for Ron. The boy was heartily gnawing on a crispy strip of bacon.
Percy subconsciously wrinkled his nose, averting his gaze.
It wasn't out of spite toward his brother. The aroma of food was getting to him.
Ginny, she'd seen it. A frown was on her lips and he almost assumed she would inquire if he was feeling okay.
She didn't.
His mum was hovering a scalding hot pan above their heads, waiting for them to move their arms so she could serve them fresh sausages, eggs and bacon.
"Good morning, Mum," he said quietly.
"Good morning-" his mum stopped as soon as she took his attire-or, lack thereof. "Percy! You're not even dressed. And what took you so long? Thought I was going to have to send Ginny up after you."
Percy lowered his eyes when his siblings all looked his way.
They're judging you
They're laughing at you
"Well, I just thought-"
"You know we're on a strict time slot," she stressed. "The twins dwindle enough as is."
"No, we don't," Fred-Or George, really he was too tired at this point to figure out who was who-protested.
But their mum shut out their insistence of their innocence. She was focused on Percy. Her face disappointed. "You should know better. Your brothers and sister look up to you, you know. You need to be a better example."
He thought there was a whisper that came from one of the twins, but couldn't catch it. He didn't need to; it was a remark at his expense.
"Yeah, Percy," one of the twins grinned slyly. "Be a role model."
"Be a better example for us," the other snickered.
"Hush, you two," their mum ordered. Then, to Percy, she said, "When I say you're to be down and ready for breakfast, I mean it."
"Yes, Mum," he murmured with his eyes on the floor as his siblings watched with fascination as they always did during the rare moments when he was rebuked. Then, louder, he asked, "Would you like me to go change?"
She sighed with a touch of exasperation. "You're already here. Sit down and get a move on it, will you? Quickly now."
He did as he was told.
"Mum, is Dad going to meet us at the station?" Ginny asked hopefully.
"Hmm? Oh, no. Sorry, Dear, but your father can't make it today."
"Why not?" Ron wondered.
"Work is running late," their mum told them. "He sent me an owl hours ago, said he was going to be pulled into a meeting and wouldn't be back until you lot were already gone."
Ginny returned to her food, unhappily poking at it. They all knew how close she was with their dad and wouldn't be satisfied that her last hug with him was from yesterday.
Their mum was aware as well. "Don't fret, Dear," she said sympathetically. "I'm sure he'll send you owl later on."
"It's not the same," she frowned.
"I know, Dear. Percy, do stop staring and eat."
Percy nearly jerked in surprise. He'd halfheartedly listened to the conversation that was going on around him, eating in small bites. He was somewhat famished, trying to clench his stomach muscles so the growl of hunger wasn't apparent to anyone else. He prayed to Merlin that he didn't look as pale as he felt.
"Sorry, Mum," he said, repeating his earlier words.
She didn't dignify him with a response.
Neither the twins or Ginny or Ron made any attempt to talk to him. They were engrossed in their own little world, oblivious to the world that they shared with their other brother; a brother that needed to fare all on his own.
"Oh, goodness," his mum caught a look at the family clock. "You've no more time," and she picked up Ron's plate just as he was going to take his last bite of sausage-she plucked the fork away, too.
"Mum!"
"You can eat on the train," she said plainly. "I've sandwiches packed for you all."
"But that's hours away!"
Good Merlin, Ron and his stomach. Percy was grateful not to have still been in that stage.
You're talking like you're better than him
I-I'm not
You're acting like it
This is why you're insufferable
Percy suddenly wasn't all that hungry anymore.