Just look ahead
Don't make eye contact with anyone
Don't trip
Don't walk too fast
Or too slow
Keep up a steady pace so no one complains
Find a place to sit
But don't sit in anyone's spot (Merlin that was embarrassing)
And breathe! Don't forget to breathe
In and out...in and out
Percy followed the other Prefects and Penny, trailing into the Great Hall ahead of the students and taking a seat at the Gryffindor table, around the middle after a moment of inward deliberation. Finding somewhere to sit, as trivial as it was, was quite nerve wracking in actuality.
He couldn't sit at the end that was closest to the staff table; inevitably, he would make the mistake of looking over, accidentally meeting a professor's eye and snap his head back down to stare at the table. Or, worse, freeze and do nothing.
But he also couldn't sit at the end that was near the door, either! What if he was needed, being Head-Boy and all? He would have to walk up the aisle in front of everyone .
Merlin, he was paling at the thought.
So, he chose the middle; neither too close to the door or the staff table. He could be easily reached and hidden amongst the students so there would be no unpleasant eye contact.
Not long after that, the rest of the students-excluding the incoming first years-came in. They were chatting happily, laughing gleefully and a few, so he heard, were growing impatient for dinner to appear.
The noise had abruptly increased; as if a tip of a wand had flicked and now it filled within the room like a flood. Percy hid a flinch, resisted the overwhelming- childish - urge to cover his ears. He always found it difficult to do something with his hands so he didn't look like a fool. Underneath the table, he wiggled his fingers, cracked his knuckles, rubbed his palms on his legs. He was trying to be subtle, not to draw any unnecessary attention to himself or have someone curiously inquire to why his arms were moving like that.
To his relief, the twins didn't come to sit nearby. They were a way's down, accompanied by most of the other Gryffindor quidditch players. Wood had found them, he noted, and was currently in a deep discussion-as evident by the way his hands were moving around to emphasize whatever point he was making and that look was back in his eyes. Which meant he was talking about quidditch, not that Percy thought he talked about much else.
Ron wasn't that far from him. One of the blokes in his year-Neville, was it?-sat across from Percy, not saying a word to anyone. He was a bit shy and Percy sympathized with that. Neville wasn't one to do much talking, rather he often was in the company of Ron's other dormmates-of whom he couldn't recall their names-but he'd just sit there, listening to whatever was being said.
Beside Neville was Ron. He was leaning a bit on the table-to which Percy bit back from telling Ron that he really shouldn't do that when they would be eating soon-to whisper something to Hermione. Harry was on Ron's other side, nodding in agreement.
Neither Ron or Harry had given him a second glance. He supposed he really couldn't blame them for it. He wasn't at all close with them and they'd just gotten all back together after spending a summer apart. It would be ridiculous to think they would stop and say hello or something.
However, Hermione did greet him as she came by. She was fairly nice to him, understanding his desire for success and good grades. It was a bit pathetic, honestly, that he had only found that sort of common ground with a thirteen year old. But it was better than finding it with no one. She didn't make fun of him for anything; he'd actually heard her scold Ron once for calling him a prat.
Oh, boy. Look at you, now you've got one person that doesn't completely hate you
Good for you
Maybe now you'll stop whining
Percy leaned his cheek against his fist, watching the first years as they walked in behind Professor McGonagall, huddled in their group, looking terrified. He couldn't blame them, not when they were being watched so closely by everyone.
He remembered his own sorting quite well, trying to shrink himself in the crowd so he wouldn't be seen. Feeling bashful in his hand-me-down robes that were once worn by Bill and had to be readjusted with a flick of his Mum's wand so they would fit him properly and not show the majority of his skinny ankles. His shoes had been scuffed, looking visibly worn, those were also Bill's when he'd first started. His family hadn't been able to afford any extras for him that year, since they needed to save up for when Fred and George would be coming to Hogwarts in a couple years. So old hand-me-down clothes and second-hand supplies would have to do for the time being.
When Professor McGonagall called his name, by Merlin his heart practically stopped . The hall had gone silent, he'd stood rooted in his spot until someone from behind pressed their hands on his back and shoved him. Nearly face planting to the ground, Percy went up to the stool with trembling legs. He was well aware of everyone looking at him, some whispered but he hadn't been certain whether it was pertaining to him or not.
It was an immense relief when the hat placed him in Gryffindor. It had momentarily debated on sending him to Ravenclaw but decided against him, declaring that he was a true Gryffindor through and through.
A true Gryffindor.
He didn't feel like one.
A Gryffindor was brave. Gryffindor's didn't cower because they were afraid of looking at someone. They didn't have to fight back tears because things became severely overwhelming.
The hat had clearly made a mistake.
He'd asked about that very thing-once. When the rest of his class spilled out of the Transfiguration classroom after their fourth or fifth lesson, he stayed behind. Professor McGonagall was kind enough if you didn't get on her bad side and she'd been surprisingly impressed with the progress he made ahead of his classmates.
So, he asked.
It was in vague terms. Without him coming right out and saying it that he was referring to himself . Not wanting to risk offending her, being that she was Head of Gryffindor.
She was very clear that under no such circumstances does the hat make any mistakes as she peered over her spectacles at Percy, that same sternness she was known for, seeping through.
He hadn't believed her.
She must have been only saying it for his benefit, to console him. She must have known that he was hardly Gryffindor worthy, hardly comparable to Bill or Charlie. They were every bit of courage that Gryffindor was known to have; they were confident and brash and people were just naturally drawn to them. No one was like that with Percy. People didn't flock to him like they did his brothers. They didn't regard him the same way, with the same awe and delight.
Sometimes, he was alright with it.
Other times, he just...he wanted to be like them; to feel for a split second what it felt like to be popular and have people around him that genuinely wanted to hear his thoughts, hear what he had to say.
By the time Percy started to pay attention again, Professor Dumbledore was midway through his beginning of the school year speech.
He sat up a little straighter, cursing himself for falling so deeply into his thoughts. Had anyone noticed? If they had, no one was laughing or whispering about it. Their eyes were on Professor Dumbledore, eagerly soaking up everything he had to say.
A part of him felt ashamed for not listening as attentively as he should have. He was Head-Boy; he wasn't setting a very good example for the younger students by doing it. They were bound to notice and word get around and-
I've got to stop thinking so much , he rubbed a hand over his face.
Out of his peripheral vision, from across the way at the Ravenclaw table, Ivan casted a smile towards him.
It kind of caught him off guard. Instead of reciprocating, Percy jerked somewhat, turning his attention, or, at least his body, in the direction of Professor Dumbledore.
That was rude
I-I didn't mean to be rude
But you were
Now he's going to be mad at you
I don't want him to be angry. I just didn't know what to do
You can't just smile like a normal person? Merlin, you're helpless
He didn't want to be helpless.
With a grand sweep of his hand, eyes twinkling with the joy of seeing them all once again (or for the first time, in some cases), Professor Dumbledore told them to tuck in; dishes of all sorts appeared on the tables and the delicious aroma of food was brought to his nose.
Mmm. Percy reached for the chicken legs first, taking whatever was closer so he didn't have to tap anyone on the shoulder and ask for something to be passed his way. The mashed potatoes sitting by Ron were certainly enticing, a favorite of Percy's. His Mum's food was wonderful, some of the best he's ever eaten, but she couldn't quite prepare potatoes like the house elves at Hogwarts could.
You shouldn't compare
It's rude
How would your Mum if she knew you said that?
She'd be hurt
But that's what you'd want, isn't it?
You want her to feel hurt
Think she deserves it, don't you?
If he asked, raised his voice a smidgen so his brother would hear him, add in a tentative please for good measure-Ron would roll his eyes, becoming exasperated that Percy was interrupting his conversation. Then he'd go complaining to his friends about how Percy was such a prat and how he never left him alone.
He didn't want to hear that. He'd heard enough of it while they were home for the summer. Ron didn't need to go talking like that to his friends.
He could only imagine what his brother's friends must have been thinking of him. Well, Hermione was fine. She didn't let others distort her own views but Harry, on the other hand.
Percy didn't have many opportunities to talk to Harry one-on-one. Once or twice, during his impromptu visit to the Burrow before Percy's sixth year, they exchanged a few pleasantries; with Percy feeling like Harry was only doing it to be nice, not really caring about how Percy was doing or if his homework was going okay.
A sigh escaped from his lips.
He'd just do without the potatoes for tonight.
The clinking of utensils against glass. A display of poor manners by slurping the pumpkin juice. Voices that were far too loud to be considered appropriate for the indoors.
Percy tried to concentrate on his chicken, stabbing at it, tearing it off from the skin.
He didn't like the skin.
It would have been nice to have a friend with him, even to just listen as they did the talking. So he didn't look so, so pathetic. Since first year, the year when he should have found someone that took an interest in him, he'd been alone.
He'd sat through the numerous jokes his brothers made at his expense over not even being able to make friends.
"Blimey," Fred grinned, fighting back laughter, "not even the other Prefects wanna talk to you."
"Shouldn't that say something, Perce?" George didn't hold back, he snickered which made Fred dissolve into laughter, too.
Perhaps it wasn't all bad. He could ignore the dull ache in his chest, disregard any of the jokes and snide remarks; grin and bear it like he always did.
He didn't have to pretend with anyone. Didn't have to struggle to come up with a reasonable, thoughtful response . Didn't have to exhaust himself trying to be social because that's what normal people did, they were social and happy and they looked forward to seeing other people.
He wished he was normal.
As it was typical of the first night, the older students were off, getting acquainted with friends, enjoying a pleasant evening with their love before classes were to begin. Some retreated to their dorms, to begin the tedious process of unpacking.
As such, the Gryffindor Common Room was empty; save for the group of first-years, their Prefect, Percy and a few fellow classmates that were lounging about.
As part of his responsibility as Head-Boy, Percy was to observe the new Prefect, to see if he was handling everything well or if he needed any help. Percy stood over by the couch, off to the side where he just didn't know what to do with his arms. Should he keep them by his sides? That looked unnatural. Cross them? Someone would assume he was upset over something. Hold a hand over his elbow?
He was overthinking.
Again .
The Prefect was struggling. He must have forgotten a piece of information that was meant to be said. Percy recognized that look; darting eyes, throat bobbing as he swallowed, raspy noises that were a cross between a nervous laugh and a wheeze.
He did that often.
As it was, he was embarrassingly inept at socializing. That moment where his mind went blank was a terrifying reality that dominated his thoughts, keeping him on edge whenever he interacted with somebody.
He'd barely made it through his own first night as a Prefect, having rehearsed the speech for weeks during the summer, on the train, just before they were due to leave the Great Hall-he'd memorized it, could still recite it at this very moment if he needed to.
He realized the absurdity of his actions now. They were only eleven , they weren't going to be that cruel, surely. However, none of those facts mattered at the time. He'd imagined messing up, stumbling over his words or freezing up. Imagined forgetting, as this boy had just done. Now, it didn't quite seem as troubling. But then? It seemed like a fate worse than death.
The boy was stammering-he'd remembered what he was supposed to say. The dormitories, yes. He was directing them to their respective rooms-and it was how to get to their dorms that'd escaped him.
Percy itched to intervene. The boy was a decent bloke, from what he'd seen. He was also somewhat shy, but Percy certainly wasn't going to judge him for that.
He did want to extend some help so the boy didn't further embarrass himself. He really did want to do something, not just look like he was trying to show off like his siblings would rather believe.
He remembered his own fifth year, just starting out as a Prefect. Remembered being out of his comfort zone. Remembered feeling horrifically nervous. There hadn't been a fellow Prefect around to help him. Well, there had been technically but she hadn't really been helpful per se.
Usually the students that were chosen for the position had impeccable behavior, showing the professors that they cared deeply about the school and being a good role model to the younger students. That hadn't been the case for the girl that was Gryffindor's Prefect that year. She hadn't lasted after that year, once Professor McGonagall found out how much she'd slacked off. Apparently, but Percy couldn't verify that it was entirely true, she became distracted by the Hufflepuff's Prefect of that year. She felt that now that they had some common ground between them, it would give her some courage to approach him. Only, she'd been too shy to do that and spent all of that year trying to talk to him. She neglected her Prefect duties and to an extent Percy. It would have been helpful to have some insight on what to do and not having to just float by himself. As a result, he all but floundered that year
Are you sure it's all her fault?
I think it's yours
You just aren't capable of handling it
And yet you think you can just pass the blame on someone else
So typical of you
He'd vowed to be different, to offer assistance so someone else didn't have to feel alone.
And it sounded splendid.
It did.
Until doubt began to creep up.
What if no one wants your help?
Everyone will think you're obnoxious
And you are
He had a habit of doing that-offering his opinion unsolicited, spewing out knowledge when no one cared to hear about it. It just came out sometimes, when he became excited or in those earnest times he just wanted to help. He knew he did that but it was never to act superior, honest it wasn't. Yet, that's what they thought. They thought he was snobbish, pompous, annoying .
It hurt, it did. He could block out what everyone else was saying, not that it hurt any less. But his family was different . He couldn't ignore the lump in his throat when they had to, yet again, say something because he cared about his grades, about his education. He couldn't just set aside the way his appetite vanished upon hearing for the umpteenth time that he had no friends and he'd remain single for the rest of his life because what girl would be interested in a bloke like him ?.
It hurt, the way he was treated for being interested in everything they weren't. He never asked them to show any interest themselves, never once did he expect them to have the same fascination they held for quidditch for anything that he'd talked about. And he listened to them, perhaps not always as he should have or to their perception. And maybe , a remark or two that should've never been said had slipped out by accident.
But it wasn't a routine.
He didn't go around ridiculing them all the time.
Like they do to me
Why were they allowed to have their own interests and he wasn't? Why were they allowed to grow into their own person while he was mocked repeatedly? Why were they allowed to be who they really were whilst Percy wasn't?
Better yet, why was anything done to him at all?
None of them would ever treat Bill or Charlie the way he was treated. Merlin, no. They, being the twins, played a few pranks here and there; some comments made at Charlie for the lack of women in his life or something aimed at Bill for how his long hair made him look like a girl.
But it was all in good jest. They wouldn't intentionally disrespect either of them-neither Bill or Charlie would've let them. They stood up for themselves. They were able to bring out the authority figure in them that was able to stop a lot of their younger siblings' antics.
They had what Percy never did.
And he knew darn good and well their parents wouldn't have stood for their siblings disrespecting Bill or Charlie. His Mum, mostly.
Once , he could recall, just prior to Charlie preparing to leave for the dragon reserve in Romania, the twins had played what they believed to be a clever prank on Charlie. He'd been studying, going through the thick textbooks on different dragon species, safety precautions and the like, when the twins had enchanted those very books to go blank whenever he would read them.
Now, usually Charlie was easy-going and thought their jokes to be neat but that hadn't been the case in that instance. He'd been anxious and stressed right before leaving, a bit cranky, too. Wanting to make a good impression on his future boss. Excited to begin the next chapter of his life. Trying to get through to their Mum alternating between begging him to stay and insisting that him going so far away was some sort of mistake that he'd regret later.
So, it really didn't help when he couldn't even read the books that he needed.
Moreover, Percy still wasn't certain how they managed to do that but he'd never asked.
He was still able to envision Charlie's reaction. Oh, he'd gone silent for all of a second before he just exploded . It was scary, really. Percy wasn't fond of confrontations or loud noises or any of that. He was really not fond of seeing his brother act like that. He'd flinched at first, rushing off to his room where he hid until things calmed down.
All the while, he could hear Charlie yelling at them. It'd been a huge mess; Charlie was fretting over his predicament, he was absolutely furious at Fred and George for being the victim of this particular prank and because they seemingly had no qualms about doing it. Worst of all, Dad has been unsure of how to reverse it. It took a bit. It took Dad and Bill together but they eventually got it. The books were restored and Charlie could read them once again.
For the rest of the day, Charlie gave Fred and George the silent treatment. He was still angry over what they'd done. It could have been considered a punishment for them. He and Bill were their favorite brothers and to have Charlie angry and Bill disappointed in them was heartbreaking. Later on, he'd come around. Even admitting that he probably needed to take a break anyway.
Percy had stayed quiet after hearing that. He did not offer his own opinion, his smidgen feeling of irritation at how those two were always getting off the hook in some way or another. Even if they were still given an actual punishment, no one kept their anger where it rightfully deserved to be.
Had he been the one to do it, they would have been disappointed for weeks! They would have talked about it. He would have been made fun of by his siblings and overall, it would have been a much worse reaction than what the twins had gotten.
Charlie had a reason to be upset. Percy would've been upset had it been him. Messing with someone's personal property was a bad habit to get into; but, as usual, the rules that applied to everyone else didn't apply to them.
Although, it wasn't that Percy could complain they didn't get punished-they did. His mom had reacted in such a way that didn't occur when the it was he who was pranked, when it was he who was bothered and made to feel so small. She'd been livid; screaming at Fred and George until her voice nearly went hoarse and she forced the twins to take on extra chores like de-gnoming the garden for a whole month.
And she does nothing now
She's busy , he inwardly sighed.
That isn't an excuse
She chose to have seven kids
She should be able to take care of them
She can!
Not very well and I know you're aware of that
You just don't want to admit
Am I correct?
"-Excuse me!"
Percy's head snapped up.
The new boy, the shy Prefect that Percy was supposed to be paying attention to, was staring at him anxiously. The horde of first-years were also looking at him with emotionless expressions.
"Pardon?" His hand was rubbing up and down his upper thigh nervously. His face was flushed.
The Prefect repeated what he'd said. What Percy had missed. "Are they supposed to go to bed now or are they allowed to stay up a bit? I, erm, forgot."
The boy was looking embarrassed on account of his mistake. He almost seemed like he expected Percy to scold him for it.
Percy checked the worn wristwatch that had once been Bill's. "Yes. Well, least go to your dormitories. Curfew is at eight for you lot but it'll be later once you're older. Do make sure to sleep at a reasonable time so you'll be properly rested for tomorrow morning. One of us will be around to make sure you get off to breakfast alright and if you have any other questions, don't hesitate to ask."
But ask someone else
Don't ask me
There. There, he'd gotten through that nicely. No stuttering or saying the wrong words. His voice was strong, confident. Said in his, what he'd overheard it being called, his Prefect voice.
Or, rather, now it was his Head-Boy voice.
None of the students objected. Good. It'd not do anyone any good to be dealing with a temper tantrum now. They seemed far too mesmerized with the common room, glancing around in awe and whispering among themselves as they headed up the stairs.
It left Percy alone with the Prefect and a few of those that were still in the room but not giving Percy or the Prefect a second glance.
"Thanks," the Prefect muttered, reaching back to scratch the back of his head.
"It's no problem," Percy wasn't much louder, his gaze going from the boy's face, then quickly flickering down to his shoes. "Erm, come to me if you need help with anything else."
The Prefect visibly brightened from the offer, relief crossing his face all at once. "Thanks!" he exclaimed, pausing momentarily after that as if he remembered something. "Oh, I'm Mervyn Wynch by the way."
"Percy," he introduced himself, shyly. "Percy Weasley."
Mervyn nodded enthusiastically. "I know who you are!"
That caught the red-head off guard. "You do?" he said, surprised.
Perhaps he ought not to have been? He had been a Prefect, so Mervyn had obviously come across him at some point, they'd just never interacted before this. It wasn't that far-fetched. Percy just didn't pay attention to the others that weren't in his year, admittedly.
Or even in his own year, really.
"Yeah!" Mervyn's voice was still jovial, admiring, even. "Your younger brother-Ron, is it?-helped Harry Potter defeat the monster that was petrifying everyone last year, didn't he?"
Percy's smile waned a bit. And here he'd thought someone had heard of him. Not his brothers. Not his brothers' friends. Not their accomplishments.
Him .
When was someone going to see Percy Weasley? When were they going to see him as an individual and not Percy, the bloke who had the wicked quidditch player for a brother or the pranksters that everyone bloody well adored or Harry Potter's best friend?
What was it going to take?
"Yes," he managed to keep a great deal of bitterness out of his voice. It was a task in and of itself. "That's Ron, alright."
"Wow," Mervyn breathed and Percy wanted to stalk right out of the common room to his dorm where he could bury his face in his pillow and scream. "You're so lucky to have such a cool brother."
"You're so lucky."
The words kept swirling around in his mind, whispering, taunting.
So lucky
So lucky to have such a cool brother
That was the type of brother Percy wanted to be, to be viewed as. He could only wish that his siblings would think of him that way. Not because he helped with dangerous missions to save the world from peril or had the best athletic ability or could make people laugh in a snap.
But because he was himself. Because he could be Percy Weasley and he didn't have to hide away so he wasn't the butt of everyone's jokes. He could be who he really was and his younger siblings would look up to him. They would admire him, they would be proud to say that they were related to him and not grimace or say they wondered how he wasn't adopted.
"Yes," he said, feigning a smile. "I...I am. Very lucky."
Even he could tell that he wasn't as convincing as he could have been. He spoke hesitantly, the word lucky sounding as though he were asking a question.
Somehow, in the midst of his hero-worship, Mervyn didn't pick up on that; the light never dimming from his eyes. "Wish my brother was that cool. I'm a muggleborn, you see, and my brother's only eight. All he's good for is barging in my room all the time."
Percy could relate. The twins did that often enough.
Just as he was thinking of a reply that was neither rude or abrupt, Mervyn ended the conversation. "Well, I'd best be going. Thanks again, Percy. I owe you one." He gave him a smile before he went on his way, upstairs to the fifth year boys dormitory.
"Right," Percy mumbled as he, too, went up the stairs. On his way, Mervyn's earlier words about him being so bloody lucky were still ringing in his ears. He'd meant well, not knowing Percy's turbulent relationship with any of them, but that subtle reminder didn't do anything to curb the mixture of childish vexation and resentment that'd come up.
It wasn't the first time someone had marveled at what his brothers had done. Wouldn't be the last. Of course, his brothers were interesting and exciting while he was boorish and the kind of person that someone would only willingly talk to if they got stuck there beside them or a dare.
He should have been used to it. That way, he wouldn't be whining, such that he was prone to doing.
At least you admit it
And it wasn't like he could dare to bring it up to anyone- no. That would be humiliating. And a waste of time. His parents wouldn't understand; they really must have been oblivious to what was going on with their children, seemingly under the impression everything was fine between them.
He could picture it now, telling them: Confused expression, furrowing of the eyebrows, a glance exchanged. They would speak to him in that tone bordering on condescending, insisting that he must be overreacting, for it couldn't be that bad. Neither of them would take it seriously. If he pushed it far enough, his Mum would grow upset by the negativity thrown at her other children and would promptly shut down the conversation right than and there, leaving no room for Percy to object.
Trying to sit his siblings down to talk was out of the question as well. No way would they cooperate. An epic failure, it would be. They wouldn't listen. Wouldn't stay silent. They'd object to anything he'd say, mock him, snicker.
And he just...he knew it wasn't worth it. Wasn't worth any of the agitation.
So, he kept everything to himself.
He pushed open the door to his dorm. It was already night out by this time, one of the downsides of the seasons changing. Percy liked autumn well enough, except for this-when he'd catch himself yawning more often, particularly when he needed to concentrate on getting any of his homework finished.
A candle was lit. It sat on the nightstand that was adjacent to Wood's bed, looking like it hadn't been goin going that long. That was one advantage of using magical candles; he needn't worry about it running out or becoming a fire hazard.
The first thing-or, technically, the second-that Percy became aware of, a nod to the past six years, Wood was bloody messy when it came to unpacking. His trunk lid open, clothes and supplies he'd need for class spilled on his bed, a few things falling to the floor.
Percy's face scrunched up in distaste at the familiar sight. Six years later, with both of them now adults in the eyes of the wizarding world, just one more year of schooling until they were to make it on their own within the world and Wood hadn't changed a bit.
Percy had yet to decide if that was a good or bad thing.
He made his way over to his own bed, directly across the room from Wood's. As it happened, Wood was the only boy that Percy had to share with. And honestly, he'd really lucked out. Wood could do his thing and Percy could do his.
"Oh, hey Weasley," Wood came out of the bathroom, nodding politely again.
Percy froze, halfway startled because he hadn't realized-or heard him, for that matter-that he was up there. He would've thought Wood would be hanging around the field right now, checking on it , as he'd offhandedly explained countless times before to the Gryffindor team. Percy had overheard him say that before.
When you were eavesdropping
He managed to recover.
"Er, hello."
Wood was back over at his bed, sorting through the mess, although sort could be used loosely. "Found your brothers, by the way," he said distractedly. "Turns out they were hiding from me. The girls, too. Can you believe that?" he rolled his eyes.
Considering what a tyrant you are over quidditch...yes, I can
If Percy was expected to reply, he didn't have to. Wood started to speak again, with a sense of fierceness that Percy could detect from his tone, something he was all too familiar with.
"I spent the summer devising a whole new quidditch program. Last year to win the cup, you know. But I'll make it happen. It'll be brilliant."
"Right," Percy said-because what else was there to say? "I assume you'll be starting up five am practices again."
It wasn't a question because he didn't have to question anything when it came to quidditch. If it sounded absolutely nutter and outrageous, then it was perfectly sensible to Wood.
"Of course!" Wood's sudden raised voice sent Percy flinching. "Got to get to the field before Flint does! I'll not have them stealing our practice times again."
He was mumbling, something about blasted notes and unfair teachers , but Percy tried to tune him out best as he could. Wood could go on for hours in regards to his hatred of Marcus Flint on and off the field. Quite frankly, he'd sat through enough of that nonsense already-not that it was say he didn't agree with Wood's assessment, however he'd become fairly repetitive after their first year.
And Percy had better things to do.
Yeah, like you're so much better
Way too haughty for your own good, hmm?
He wasn't. He didn't mean to be, if he was. But one could only pay attention to Wood's droning for so long before boredom would overtake him. And it wasn't as if they were friends by stretch of the mind. He'd just happened to be around most of the time when it took place. In reality, Wood would complain to anyone who would listen (which was most of those that attended Hogwarts-hardly anyone passed up the opportunity to bad-mouth a Slytherin). No, Wood wasn't complaining with Percy, just at him and honestly, Percy could leave and Wood would be muttering to himself, oblivious.
You'd do anything to justify your behavior, wouldn't you?
Can't accept that you're in the wrong
Percy yawned into his hand, his attempt at stifling it in vain.
"Say, Weasley," Wood piped up.
"Yes?" Percy said carefully.
"I've heard something about you."
Oh Merlin
"And?" Percy prompted, wanting to get the suspense over with so he could unpack in peace.
Wood wasn't deterred by his impatient tone. "I've never seen you at Gryffindor's after parties. Least, I don't think so. Fred says you've never been to a game before."
Percy didn't expect that, then again, he wasn't really sure what he expected. Except, it wasn't that. That he knew. He also didn't miss the accusing tone. It was difficult not to. "Oh..."
"You've had to have been," Wood said cluelessly. "Why wouldn't you? It's quidditch, after all!"
He had. Previously. It'd been years since. He was thankful it was optional and not mandatory. He just couldn't take it. Being amongst the crowd, sitting far too close to someone else, being squished together, having the air compressed. He just...he couldn't do it. He wouldn't do it. Not again.
He knew it was odd for a boy his age not to be out in the stands with everyone else, cheering and going wild. But that wasn't him. He couldn't do that. He couldn't be like the rest of them. He had to be within his safety net. Within the comfort of his dorm where he could stay away from that.
He couldn't help but wonder why Wood even cared about what he did in his free time. What was he playing at? There must have been a reason. Perhaps he was planning on buckling down on his studying, which was rather abysmal in Percy's opinion. No one cares what you think . Perhaps Professor McGonagall had given him an ultimatum: achieve higher grades or risk getting kicked off the quidditch team.
Now, Percy didn't know the state of Wood' grades, but he did know that his dormmate would do just about anything for quidditch. He must want Percy to help him study or he might try to pawn off his homework onto Percy.
That's it
It must be it
"You're not going to miss this year's games, are you?"
"Why?" Sharp. Quick. He nearly regretted it. Or maybe he did regret it and he didn't want to think about the alternative: where Wood was just trying to be friendly but Percy was being a tosser.
If he was affected by how Percy had spoken, he didn't show it. "Because it's quidditch !"
He was saying it like it was obvious.
"Oh, no," Percy shook his head. "I, erm, I'm not interested in quidditch, really."
Which was a lie. He might not have been obsessed with it like his brothers or, Merlin forbid, Wood, however, he did keep up with the Appleby Arrows.
Wood looked like someone had murdered his firstborn in cold blood. He made a noise, offended by the statement. "What- how ?" His question came out as a bellow. Percy flinched again. " You've got quidditch blood in your veins!"
Percy struggled to say something. Anything. "Bill didn't play," he said weakly.
Wood waved that off. "But he still liked it," his dormmate argued. "How does one just not like quidditch?"
Percy shrugged. The intensity of Wood's eyes was making him uncomfortable. You did that , the voice said fiercely. Look at what you did! He thinks you're mad. And you are, aren't you? You're mad and a liar.
Wood stared at him for a very long time until he said, with a snort, "Dunno how you and your brothers are even related."
A painful pang went through Percy.
I'm wondering the same thing
He plastered on a smile, it was the only thing keeping him from breaking down.
You're so weak
He stood there a moment long. Wood wasn't hung up over what he'd said and his concentration went elsewhere, specifically, back to his trunk and complete lack of organization. As for Percy, he was attempting to gain some of his self-control back; mentally berating himself for how he was acting.
You don't want Fred or George to find out do you?
Wood will say something if you don't calm down!
Stop acting pathetic and get a grip!
Wood was still ignorant of what he'd caused. His focus on getting his bed cleaned: he picked up as much as he could in his arms, all that he'd dumped out, so he could stuff it back into his trunk. Probably to deal with it another time. Probably wouldn't even bother with an Anti-Wrinkle charm for his school robes.
That was how Wood lived. Messy and undignified.
Percy got onto the middle of his own bed, with his feet tucked underneath him. He didn't say anything and he didn't dare look over at Wood's side of the room.
His words, Mervyn's words, they wouldn't stop. They wouldn't go away.
It was as if someone was screaming in his head. Louder and louder.
It was utterly foolish, getting upset over that. He'd heard worse, usually from his own brothers. But it still hurt. Hearing that come from someone else, not in the family, yet who could plainly see that Percy was the outsider, the one whom didn't belong.
It confirmed his worst fear.
Perfect Prefect Percy didn't belong in his own family
For the second time, he yawned.
Wood noticed.
"Tired?" he said rhetorically, as if what just happened minutes prior didn't just occur.
"Perhaps," Percy muttered.
He didn't want to talk anymore. Only for the candle to be blown out so he could sleep.
Or brood. Or overthinking. Or anything that didn't involve Wood.
"Been a long day for you, too?" Wood was, strangely, in the mood to talk. Even after he insulted him and basically avoided him for the past six years. He must have really wanted help to study. ""Mum had to take me to Diagon Alley before we got to the station; forgot half the books I needed first time we went." He laughed.
Percy did not.
Fascinating
"You got everything?" Wood stretched lazily.
Percy pursed his lips, suspicion arousing. "Yes," he said finally, tersely.
Wood didn't pick up on that either.
"S'good," Wood laid back, arms behind his head, exhaling a deep breath. He sounded sleepy, on the brink of drifting off real soon.
It would've made for an easier time for Percy to adjust, without the extra noise coming from Wood's side-except for his snoring.
He was worse than Ron. That was saying something. His brother's snoring was legendary in the Weasley household. The twins teased him mercilessly for it, to which Ron's face would flame as red as his hair and he'd grumble incoherently.
Wood's was a close second. It was amazing- not in a good way-that such an obnoxious noise could be coming from him. Than again, Wood was the same when he was awake, so it wasn't that unbelievable.
Percy was startled when a hand waved in front of his face.
He was getting lost in his thoughts again. It'd been happening frequently today. And he knew why-school.
"Whatcha thinkin' about?" Wood was beside his bed, leaning his head forward and far too close to Percy's invisible bubble, staring at him curiously.
Percy's body jerked. He pulled his legs closer to himself, trying not to allow any part of him to be touched by his dormmate. "W-what are you doing?" Percy spluttered.
Wasn't Wood just on his own bed, about to fall asleep?
Wood shrugged, unabashedly. He really didn't see anything wrong with what he'd done. He didn't do anything wrong . "You were looking spacey over here." Then he grinned. "Your mouth was open and eyes all glazed over. Thought I'd see if you were okay."
He wishes you weren't
He wishes head the dorm all to himself
Then he wouldn't have to put up with you anymore
He thinks you're a nuisance
And he isn't wrong
You are
"I...I...I'm not spacey," he stumbled over his words. He wanted Wood to leave, to go back to his own bed and leave him alone. He wanted him to go this instant . "I'm fine. Just, er, tired is all."
Percy really didn't like how Wood was looking at him. So critically. Slight scrunch of his face and tilt of his head. The expression of knowing, that he knew Percy was lying and was deciding on whether to call him out for it.
Wood scratched the back of his neck. His eyes eventually left Percy's face and he swiftly turned back in the other direction, going back to his bed with his feet making thudding noises. He was always doing that, too. Couldn't do anything around here softly. No, he merely sounded like he was much larger and it grated on Percy's nerves.
Everything annoys you
The world doesn't revolve around you
Yet, you believe everyone must live according to the way you think they should
"Right, er," Wood sounded so distant, as if he was so much further than across the room.
The atmosphere suddenly seemed tense, thick.
"I'll just...night, Weasley. See you."
Percy didn't respond back.
With a swipe of Wood's wand, the room plunged into darkness and Percy stayed upright for a minute or two before he fell back, wondering how he was going to survive this year.