Thursday 1st September 1988
I sit at the foot of the bed, idly folding my navy socks in the corner of my trunk. I attempt to close the trunk relying just on the power being exerted from my arms, but I fail miserably. I press the top of it down and sit on it quickly before it has a chance to snap open. Technically, the trunk’s been packed since last week, but I needed something to distract me from the fact that Charlie’s only showering now, and it’s already quarter to ten. It’s my fifth time re-packing it - I keep remembering more books to bring, then I decide I don’t really need them, and then I get nervous in case I will need them and pack them back in again. Only, I always have my books at the bottom of the trunk, so it takes far longer than you’d expect. My homework’s at the bottom of the trunk too, but I had that done in the first two weeks of the holidays. I’ve never had homework to do in the summer holidays, but it was always at the back of my mind that I had to do it, so I just did it and got it out of the way. They did give us an awful lot of it, though. Especially Professor Snape - he set us a very long essay, but I wrote a couple of inches extra, just in case. You never can be too careful with him. I think Transfiguration’s probably my favourite subject; it’s definitely one of the more difficult ones, but I’ve always liked a challenge. I also like Potions, because it requires a lot of concentration and accuracy. I reckon my least favourite subject is Herbology - I just find plants, even magical ones, rather boring. I actually didn’t really mind the flying lessons; I enjoyed the feeling of freedom in the air, but when Madam Hooch started practising Quidditch with us, I didn’t like it so much. Is it really my fault that my instinct is to duck rather than catch a ball being thrown at me?
After a while, when I’m completely satisfied that the trunk is safely closed, I heave myself up and head towards the window. My room has the best view in the house - at least, it does in my opinion, anyway. It over-looks the garden at the back of the house. I really missed the garden when I went to Hogwarts. Obviously the grounds in Hogwarts are amazing, but there’s something so familiar, so comforting about our back garden. The pond is always nearly over-flowing with frogs and the grass always needs to be mowed. You can do whatever you want out there - be whoever you want out there. You can just get lost in a book or your thoughts and no-one will distract you - well, except for the gnomes, that is. They like to be involved.
I don’t like being on the same floor as Fred and George, though. Even though they’re younger than me, they’re so much louder and confident that I feel like I should do what they say. I’m the third oldest, but I don’t feel it. I want to be a good influence and a good role model for them, Ron and Ginny, but it’s hard when I feel so overshadowed by Fred and George. That’s another reason I love Hogwarts so much - I don’t have to be around them all the time. That’s an awful thing to say, isn’t it? Don’t get me wrong; they’re my brothers and I love them, but sometimes it’s as if we’re just too different. I mean, how are they supposed to look up to me if they never want to be anything like me? I stand for everything they scorn. Maybe I’m just trying too hard - I am only two years older than they are. I just want so badly to be respected, to be admired, but a part of me knows that I’m just pushing them away in the end. They don’t want to be like me. They want to be like Bill and Charlie, and be good at Quidditch and be funny and have lots of friends. I want to be like that too, but I can’t. It’s not in me. I’m not confident enough, I’m not witty enough and I’m not easy-going enough. And although it sounds a little bit crazy, I’d rather be an exaggerated version of me rather than a pathetic shadow of Bill and Charlie. I don’t know why. I guess if I can’t be them, then I’ll be the total opposite of them - that way, no-one can compare me to them.
Suddenly, there’s a fretful knock on my door. The words “Come in” barely escape from my lips when it’s thrown open to reveal an extremely harassed looking Mum.
“Percy! Oh, thank Merlin, you’re awake! It was so quiet on this floor that I thought you’d forgotten to set your alarm and you were still in bed!” she says, almost wiping the sweat from her brow in relief.
I laugh. “Mum, calm down. I’m ready - I’ve showered and had my breakfast and all.”
She smiles. “Of course you have.” She walks over and envelopes me in a hug. “Sometimes, I think you and I are the only responsible ones in this family, Percy.”
“Hey!” An indignant voice interrupts our embrace and we break away, surprised. Bill is standing by the door, his arms crossed.
“I’m all ready, too, Mum, but I don’t hear you calling me responsible,” he says, his face failing to appear serious.
Mum chuckles. “Bill, you’re Head Boy now - I had hoped you were beginning to act responsibly!”
She smiles indulgently at the shiny badge pinned to his jumper. I gaze at it longingly - maybe in a few years it’ll be pinned to my jumper. Charlie got his Prefect badge too - I don’t think I’ve ever seen Mum so proud of them.
“Now, I’d better go downstairs and see what your father’s doing. Percy, dear, bring down your trunk to the car. Bill, love, you too.” She bustles out of the room, humming happily to herself.
Bill is still leaning against the door way, scrutinizing me as if I’m unwell.
“You all ready for your second year, Perce?” he asks.
I nod happily and begin to shove my trunk across the floor.
“I’ll do that,” he says, picking up my trunk as if it weighed no more than a gnome. “But seriously, Perce, what are you putting in this trunk? Your whole room?”
He doesn’t give me a chance to answer but walks down the stairs, carefully avoiding hitting the trunk against the narrow walls.
I give my room one last sweeping glance before I leave and close the door. I’m almost knocked over by Charlie, who’s also lugging his trunk down the stairs.
“See, Perce, I’m all ready! I just have to have my breakfast and then we can leave. Is that quick enough for you?” he asks jokingly, poking me playfully in the ribs.
It’s a small, insignificant gesture that many people would over-look, but I know what it means, and I smile gratefully at him. After all, Charlie Weasley is not famed for being early for things.
“Seriously, it might just be me, but my trunk seems to get heavier year after year,” he says, exhaling heavily. He quickly glances at me. “There’s nothing valuable in it. I could just push it down the stairs.”
“Isn’t your cauldron in it?” I ask him perplexedly.
“Percy, I could drop that thing off the Astronomy Tower and it wouldn’t have a scratch on it.”
A wicked smile flickers briefly across my face. “Then what are you waiting for?”
Charlie looks momentarily surprised at my reaction, but seizes his opportunity. With a swift shove, it goes thundering down the rickety flight of stairs. It makes a ridiculous amount of noise - like listening to thunder when you’re in the attic. We go running after it, ready to push it down its final journey from the first floor to the bottom, when Mum pops her head out of the door at the bottom of the stairs.
“What’s all the racket about? I thought Fred and George were outside playing Quidditch?”
“They are, Mum, Charlie just knocked his trunk down the stairs by mistake,” I lie smoothly.
“Charlie, you really need to be more careful,” she admonishes.
“Sorry, Mum,” he apologises.
Charlie waits until she potters back into the living room before turning to me.
“You know something, Perce? Maybe you are a true Weasley after all,” he says proudly, clapping me on the back.
Together we lift his trunk down the stairs and out towards the car. After placing it alongside mine and Bill’s, Charlie checks his watch.
“It’s only quarter past ten now. You don’t mind leaving ’till half past, do you, Perce?” he asks me.
I nod. “I don’t mind. As long as we do leave at half past and not twenty to eleven.”
He laughs. “Not a bother.”
I can’t help but grin as we head back to the house together. I may be annoying Percy, who’s obsessed with being early and apparently has no sense of humour, but perhaps, like Charlie said, I’m a true Weasley after all.
Perfect Percy by Nitwit Blubber Oddment Tweak x
Chapter Notes: This chapter begins on Thursday September 1st 1988 - the day Percy leaves for Hogwarts to become a second year.
Chapter Endnotes: You know the drill :]
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