The first day of classes was reaching its end. It was in between the time of dinner and curfew; the sun was beginning to set, which casted a soft orange and pink shadow over the land, enveloping everything in its path.

While most of the students were still in the Great Hall, eating or engaged in lively conversations with friends while delaying the starting process of the homework that they'd inevitably received earlier that day, Percy hadn't been able to withstand much. The noise, the glaringly obvious fact that he was alone whilst everyone else was not and a lack of hunger had driven him to the library for sanctuary.

He'd left his mostly untouched plate of steak and kidney pie behind. The stress was getting to him. He couldn't eat when that happened. It was like a weight had dropped down into his stomach, making food unappealing and downright nauseating.

The library was primarily vacant. Madam Pince was at the front desk, stamping book after book that was returned. After each book was properly stamped, it would flow back to the appropriate spot it was taken from. He met her eye as he came in, instinctively shrinking under her severe gaze. Madam Pince was not to be messed with.

Tell that to the twins

They've probably tried

He chose a table that was in the back corner, hidden away from view by the enormous shelves. It gave him a chance to breathe, letting down some of the tension that he'd been carrying with him since he'd woken up. He was finally alone.

Percy exhaled, slumping down in his chair.

He was drained. Absolutely, thoroughly drained. It'd taken every bit of stored up energy he'd had to get through it all without combusting.

But only just.

He'd gone through the motions just as he had for the past six years with little difference occurring. He dutifully attended his classes, made it there on time and chose to sit at the very front because that had been what he always did. If he went to the back, where he didn't want to be seen or acknowledged, someone would ask questions. Someone would be suspicious and he did not want to deal with any of that. So, he was at the front. Where all eyes were on him. Where the professor could easily watch him, stare him down with a knowing glint in their eyes that made him squirm.

He'd done his best to maintain a persona of a well-balanced person. Someone that was in control of themselves and knew how to function like any other person did. He didn't allow any kind of indication of what he was going through to be known to anyone else, anything that would contradict what he was trying to do.

Because that would have led to questions.

And he didn't want any questions.

Percy had been especially mindful in Professor Mcgonagall's classroom. It was nerve wracking, if he was being honest. He sat there stiffly, jumpy, as if expecting her to bring up the moment she'd briefly talked to him at breakfast. He needed to not show anything to her, nothing that would cause her to worry unnecessarily. He was fine. He was okay. He wasn't tired-liar-and could handle his responsibilities just fine.

Liar

You're a bloody liar

And you know it

He was still unable to believe that he'd allowed such a thing to happen; to have Professor McGonagall see him at such a low point. He was usually so careful to uphold himself better than that, so as to blend in easily within the crowd. Not stick out and have his problems stick out like a green thumb.

He hadn't been able to stop thinking about it.

All throughout the lesson he'd wandered, fretted over if she was going to bring it up with his parents, where his mum would give him that look. The one that meant he should have known better. She'd give it to Percy and tell him that she didn't know why he didn't come to them because he could tell them anything.

Not that it was true. He couldn't just sit down to talk about everything with his parents. But she wouldn't accept that answer from him. She'd deny it until her dying breath. All the while, she'd continue to wonder how he could have thought he couldn't come to them and somehow, she'd end up making the whole about them.

About how she was so saddened by how things had turned, when he used to come to them for everything. He knew that would happen; didn't like to think it because Percy always felt a terrible sensation in his stomach when he did. A stab in the gut that penetrated through him, while simultaneously the voice in his head grew louder. Proclaiming what an awful, ungrateful son he was.

You are awful

You are ungrateful

No one else thinks that way

Just you

Doesn't that say something to you?

Percy pressed his face in his palms, inhaling deeply. Now that Professor McGonagall had made a comment regarding his health, she would, no doubt, be keeping a closer eye on him for any telltale signs that he was in need of a break.

Maybe he did need a break. Especially after the disastrous day he'd had.

Oh, it was the worst first day he'd ever had since he'd started studying at Hogwarts. It went all wrong, one thing after another and he couldn't stop it. First it was Herbology. He'd been drowsy, constantly yawning and missed the majority of Professor Sprout's instructions and was left frozen while the rest of the class got to work. For the first time, he had to approach his professor and ask (mumble, really) for her to repeat what she'd said.

He hadn't wanted to. Merlin knows he wished he didn't. His legs were trembling and a faint feeling of nausea was in the pit of his stomach as he approached her.

Her face was what he couldn't shove out of his mind. The surprise. How she was caught off guard by him uncharacteristically not paying attention. He was told what to do, once she recovered, but it was not without a mild warning from Professor Sprout.

"I do hope this won't be a recurring problem with you, Mr. Weasley," she peered at him, looking much as he knew she would.

Disappointed.

Displeased that one of her best students had let her down.

Disheartened with what she believed to be him slacking off during one of the most important years in his school career.

He was nothing but a disappointment, not only in himself but others as well.

He maintained a grip on himself, putting on a normal facial expression to convey just how normal and thoroughly un-mad he was. "Of course, ma'am. My apologies."

It didn't get better after that. His concentration was shot. A plant nearly bit his thumb off and some of the class-mainly being the Slytherins and a few obnoxious students from his own house-found it amusing when he'd jumped back after almost getting bit and hit the table that was directly behind him. It wobbled, the heavy pots of plants would have fallen right on the floor if it weren't for Professor Sprout's quick thinking with the wingardium leviosa spell. She sent Percy a look of pure exasperation. People whispered and snickered and his cheeks reddened to the point it matched his hair.

After that came defense class. They had a new professor, not that it was a surprise to anyone. Percy couldn't recall one that stayed longer than a year since he'd been at Hogwarts. He didn't have much of an opinion regarding Professor Lupin, other than he despised how the man had insisted there be partner work for the first lesson.

Partner work was the absolute worst. He didn't have anyone that he could latch onto to prevent from being pushed with someone he didn't know, struggling to get through the three hours of class. However, that was exactly what happened. His gaze wandered around helplessly as everyone else partnered up with their friends, whereas he was still at his desk by himself. Professor Lupin had to signal a girl that also didn't have a partner to come up to sit with him.

They didn't talk, not unless it was necessary and pertaining to the spell they had to practice. The girl, whom for the life of Percy, he couldn't think what her name was, was clearly unhappy that out of all the other (competent, his mind supplied) students in the class, she was stuck with him. He couldn't blame her, not with the way he was messing up, unable to get the spell right, even with how hard he was trying.

It was so unlike him. He'd never had a problem with being able to practice a spell; it came easily. In previous years, he was the one that was the first student to fully grasp the lesson. Before that, he'd been so proud with his accomplishment that he would offer to help those that weren't getting off, accidentally coming off pretentious rather than helpful.

Now it made sense why others would roll their eyes when he'd raise his hand in the air to answer a question or mumble not-so-discreetly about him being a know-it-all.

He stopped doing it.

A shame, really. He very much liked helping others. It gave him a great feeling to assist someone else so they could comprehend the material better. He never meant to seem like he was trying to show off.

That's how everyone sees you

They all think you're just trying to be a suck-up

No one likes a suck-up

Maybe that's why you've got no friends

When lunch gave way to the next class, Percy trudged down to the dungeons where Potions was held. Professor Snape was in a foul mood after dealing with a classroom full of rowdy and excitable first years. Percy didn't like thinking bad about anyone-liar-but a select few of the newest students were a tad...a bit...

They were not the most well behaved, he settled on. Apparently, one had managed to knock over his cauldron, spilling all of the contents from his potion onto the floor. Percy didn't know which house the boy was from, but whichever it was, he imagined Professor Snape wouldn't hesitate to drag the points so far down that it was in the negatives.

While it was true that Professor Snape was a brilliant potioneer, the same couldn't be said for his teaching ability. He couldn't have been the only one afraid to make a mistake for fear of ridicule. Until it was over, he avoided any eye contact with Professor Snape, attempting to perfect the potion. They'd jumped right into the final year's material, without so much as a brief review like his other classes had done. Than again, Professor Snape wasn't known for making his classes like the other professor's.

Percy's nervousness caught up with him; he would clumsily knock over a vial, his spoon would make noise when he set it down. Not only that, but he felt off as well. His heart had thumped in his chest to almost a level it shouldn't have for a person; and his body felt uncomfortably warm in his uniform. It was like he was wearing multiple jumpers at once, suffocating him to where his breathing felt affected.

At times, it felt like he couldn't breathe right at all. Like his throat had sized up all of the sudden. It was frightening. Percy never knew if he was having some sort of an attack or what was going on.

By the grace of Merlin, he made it through without any notable incident -if him ruining his potion counted as being a non-incident, that is.

It was all off; the color, the consistency, everything. Percy couldn't explain where he went wrong if he was asked to. He didn't know, and he felt shame overtake him when Professor Snape inspected his potion with his lips curled into a cruel smile.

"Do you think this is acceptable, Mr. Weasley?"

Percy's insides churned under the intensity of Professor Snape's glare. "Well," his brain was racking for what to say. "You see-"

"What I see," Professor Snape's face was contorted into a hard expression. "Is your inability to listen to instructions. Did I not tell you that your result should look pink?"

"Well, I-"

"Answer the question, Mr. Weasley, if it isn't too terribly difficult for you."

Percy swallowed. "Yes, Sir, you did."

"And what color is this?"

"Green," he mumbled.

Professor Snape had been murderous; threatening to kick Percy out of his class if he couldn't do better next time.

Is that what you want?

Do you want to be kicked out?

Imagine how everyone will react if that happens

You won't be able to live it down

His final class of the day had been Transfiguration. There, too, he struggled with the simplest of tasks. It took him multiple attempts at casting the spell they were working on for it to occur correctly. Their first assignment for the new school year was to try to transfigure a large piece of furniture into an animal, then, if there was time left, to change it back to its original state.

He certainly wasn't done first.

Gradually, his fellow classmates were able to do it and he was the only one who hadn't. It wasn't even difficult. Or it shouldn't have been.

He'd grown more nervous as the minutes trickled by. Sweat accumulated on his palms. His voice went a bit higher, desperation within it each time he tried again and again, wishing nothing more for it to work.

When it did, the time had come for them to leave. Students rushed out the door, eager for their time to be taken up by something else and not because they were stuck in class, listening to the professors. As for Percy, he was the last one to go. Neither he nor Professor McGonagall spoke a word to each other, but the shadow of pity that crossed her face, he did not miss. That much was clear.

And now, with what he tried to make as a headstart on his homework so he wouldn't be there until curfew, seemed as a waste. He crumpled paper after paper, placing it on the other side of the table, rubbing at his face tiredly. Professor Lupin had assigned them to write an essay on the spell they'd used in class and why it was important to use in a duel rather than whatever default spell they would have normally turned to use.

The eloquence Percy typically possessed would not come to him this time. No amount of rewriting, scrambling his brain for a synonym or two, or brief break to give himself a breather did anything to help him. It was worse than a first year's, hardly making sense when he paused mid-way through and took a glance at reading it.

And if it didn't make sense to him, it surely wouldn't to Professor Lupin.

Percy yawned, disrupting his thoughts.

He was forty-five minutes into it. Dinner had ended by now, but that hadn't had an affect on how many people were taking up room in the library. It was only the first night, so that was to be expected. No one really started to go there until a week or so in, when things got serious in their classes.

But he digressed.

With his face resting in the palm of his hand, Percy contemplated his options. Honestly, he was getting nowhere. Time was getting away from him, closer to when he was needing to go back to Gryffindor Tower and that was no place where any studying would be impossible to do; with what, the noise levels and total lack of consideration for those that were concerned with their grades.

Stop sounding so high and mighty

You aren't better than them

Is that what you think?

You think you are?

Because you're not

Remember what they call you?

The buzzkill

The killjoy

Perfect Prefect Pompous Percy

That's what they think of you

A sigh escaped between his lips. He supposed he would stay there, try to get through the enormous amount of homework without being distracted or entertaining his frustration too long. He would get through it. He would complete it without having to rush, or spend half the night working on it so it would be ready to hand in the next morning.

Something caught Percy's eye; flowing red hair had come into the corner of his vision, momentarily tearing him from his still-incomplete essay and to a number of feet in front of him. Ginny was there alone, searching the bookshelves. She was a bit too short to reach anything above her, but that didn't stop her from craning her neck to look anyway.

"Ginny," he said, ignoring the inner voice that told him to just sit back down and let her look for whatever it was on her own. He wasn't going to be bossy, just helpful. He wanted her to know that she could count on him to help, even when they were at school. "Did you need any help?"

Ginny whirled around and the semi-pleasant expression immediately fell from her face, replaced by a grimace. His chest constricted, stomach dropping from the figurative weight that fell into it, but he didn't show much it hurt. "Oh," she said with the same flatness he'd (almost) gotten used to hearing from his siblings. "Hi Percy."

She returned to what she'd been doing, scoping out a book for who knows what. Percy tried again. "Did you need any help looking?"

"No," she said without facing him.

"Oh," he faltered. "Well, erm, that's alright. Say, what're you looking for, anyway? Is it for one of your classes?"

"No." This time the word was said with a touch of annoyance.

She doesn't want you to talk to her

Don't you understand?

She wants to be left alone

"Oh," he repeated faintly.

The pain was palpitating. Still, he smiled through it.

"Well, what's it for?"

Ginny groaned. "Quidditch, Percy. That's all."

"Oh. Well, have you asked Fred and George? I'm sure they could help you with suggestions."

"I know what I'm looking for. I just can't find it," she said with the patience of someone that was ready to blow up at any second.

His eyes darted to the floor, far too interested in the carpet below. "Erm, right. Well, how was your first day? Everything go well?"

"Fine."

"That's good," he said, despite how that voice was urging him to leave now instead of continuing to speak.

Shut up!

What's wrong with you?

Just leave her alone and shut up!

She doesn't want you around

"I had a very good day," he lied straight through his teeth, feigning a bright, cheery tone. "Very productive. Have you had Defense, yet? I quite like Professor Lupin. Far better than Professor Lockhart was, don't you think?"

But Ginny wasn't in the mood for idle conversation that would hinder her searching.

Face it

She just doesn't want to talk to you

She stopped him before he could launch into a spiel about something pertaining to education-at least, that's what he presumed she did it for. "I think I'll ask Fred and George after all," she hastily made her escape. To get away from you. Because she doesn't like you. She wishes you weren't her brother. "See you later, Percy."

"Bye Ginny," he couldn't keep up the tone in which he'd tried. The rejection set in. The painful knowing that he was just a nuisance to his siblings. To his family.

There came a lump in his throat, as there often was. Bordering on painful, it felt like it was strangling him. But he didn't wipe the small smile away.

He was sure someone had seen it. Probably whispering away to their friends as they giggled over how Perfect Prefect Percy was just rejected by his own sister. How not even his own flesh and blood wanted to talk to him.

The thin thread that kept him from falling was barely hanging on.