Fic Exchange: Fic for kitrinlu
For: Kit/kitrinlu of Ravenclaw
# of words: 870
Title: Should Have Been
Rating/warnings: PG-13//Heavy angst
Characters/Pairings: Percy Weasley
Summary: He did do his best, he tried so hard to be perfect, and yet when he got perfect marks and a prefect badge, he was teased for it
Author's Notes: At first I was stumped when I looked over your prompt, Kit. I've never looked at Percy but through the eyes of the Trio. Writing this fic was a real challenge for me, and at the same time a treat! I have a new appreciation for Percy Weasley, and I hope this fic is what you were hoping for! ♥
Perfect Percy
The nickname bothered him, of course it did. Not that he minded being called perfect; indeed, being absolutely perfect was what he strived for every day. He didn't understand why that made him the laughing stock of the family. Clearly his parents wanted him to do well, why else would they have constantly told him to look up to Bill and Charlie, and to try and do his best in school?
He did do his best, he tried so hard to be perfect, and yet when he got perfect marks and a prefect badge, he was teased for it.
"You're too hard on yourself, Percy" his mother had said while putting away his laundry. "Try and have some fun once in a while."
Oh, and wasn't that the kicker! Fun in Percy's mind would forever be linked to Fred and George, the twins, the goof-offs who did nothing productive and followed no rules as all, as if rules didn't even exist. And yet when the twins messed up or pulled a prank, Mum would shout, and swear she'd send them to Azkaban and then when the twins had left the room, she'd smile and chuckle. Percy brought home perfect marks and read her the newest additions the Ministry had made in one of the Goblin laws, and she's sigh and ask him if it was his bedtime yet.
He never got that smile or that chuckle. Just a sigh.
His parents were never happy with his choices or his accomplishments. He got a job at the Ministry, the bloody Ministry of Magic, and they questioned him! He didn't understand what they wanted. They were thrilled with Bill and congratulated Charlie, but they questioned him.
Cutting off ties with his family was the best thing he'd ever done, he thought at the time. No more rooting around in the rubbish bin for his socks, tripping over jokes in the hallway, or fighting Ginny for the bathroom. This didn't mean he completely forgot about all of them. He sent Ron a letter with his best interests at heart-Harry had become an annoying itch that wouldn't go away to the Ministry, and the last thing he wanted was for his family to be dragged into the whole debacle. It could ruin his career, being related to the Weasleys. Some days he even started referring to himself as Weatherby and found himself growing fond of the name.
He laughed when Molly's Christmas gifts arrived. Did she really think that another Christmas sweater would appease him? Would make him run back home and beg forgiveness? He wasn't the one who should be begging, they should be apologizing to him! After all, all he'd ever done was follow the rules and gotten a job and lived his life how he was supposed to live it.
He sent the package back without opening it. It took a few hours thought to remove the tear stains from the wrapping paper.
It was Charlie, in the end. The brother he'd always been closet to, and missed the most terribly out of them all, had come round and socked him right in the face. Charlie yelled and he screamed, and Percy cried, too ashamed to admit that he had known Voldemort was back, that he believed Harry all this time, but was too scared to believe it, praying and hoping that it would all resolve itself in the end, because the world had rules and it followed it's own rules and . . .
He had wanted to believe that the world was perfect, and that he had nothing to fear. He wasn't a Gryffindor, he never had been. Why the Sorting Hat had placed him in the same house as his brothers, he'd always wondered.
"Percy, of course you're a Gryffindor," Charlie had sighed. "You're stubborn and thick-headed and smart. Just because you're scared doesn't mean you can't be brave as well. Percy, I'm scared too!"
"I'm not scared," Percy muttered into his sweater, hugging himself as he stared out his office window into the Ministry lobby below. Behind him, he heard Charlie turn to walk out the door.
"Know this, Perce. I can forgive you for everything you've ever done. Everything. But if you choose the wrong side . . . " Charlie trailed off. "Be brave, Percy."
Hours later, Percy packed up his things and left his office for the very last time.
Fighting along side Fred, Percy joked that he was resigning, even though he'd already walked out the door. He heard Fred laugh (and Merlin, was that a sound he'd missed), but it was cut short. He stopped smiling when he saw the frozen smile on Fred's face.
Percy doesn't remember much about the Battle of Hogwarts. He still dreams about it, of him joking, of Fred laughing, of Fred dying. And of his family, leaning over Fred, all of them mourning in their own way. Slowly they all turn to him, and they all say at once, It should have been you.
It should have been you.
It should have been you.
It should have been you.
Percy wakes with a start and cries in the early morning, the chants echoing in his mind.
It should have been me .
# of words: 870
Title: Should Have Been
Rating/warnings: PG-13//Heavy angst
Characters/Pairings: Percy Weasley
Summary: He did do his best, he tried so hard to be perfect, and yet when he got perfect marks and a prefect badge, he was teased for it
Author's Notes: At first I was stumped when I looked over your prompt, Kit. I've never looked at Percy but through the eyes of the Trio. Writing this fic was a real challenge for me, and at the same time a treat! I have a new appreciation for Percy Weasley, and I hope this fic is what you were hoping for! ♥
Perfect Percy
The nickname bothered him, of course it did. Not that he minded being called perfect; indeed, being absolutely perfect was what he strived for every day. He didn't understand why that made him the laughing stock of the family. Clearly his parents wanted him to do well, why else would they have constantly told him to look up to Bill and Charlie, and to try and do his best in school?
He did do his best, he tried so hard to be perfect, and yet when he got perfect marks and a prefect badge, he was teased for it.
"You're too hard on yourself, Percy" his mother had said while putting away his laundry. "Try and have some fun once in a while."
Oh, and wasn't that the kicker! Fun in Percy's mind would forever be linked to Fred and George, the twins, the goof-offs who did nothing productive and followed no rules as all, as if rules didn't even exist. And yet when the twins messed up or pulled a prank, Mum would shout, and swear she'd send them to Azkaban and then when the twins had left the room, she'd smile and chuckle. Percy brought home perfect marks and read her the newest additions the Ministry had made in one of the Goblin laws, and she's sigh and ask him if it was his bedtime yet.
He never got that smile or that chuckle. Just a sigh.
His parents were never happy with his choices or his accomplishments. He got a job at the Ministry, the bloody Ministry of Magic, and they questioned him! He didn't understand what they wanted. They were thrilled with Bill and congratulated Charlie, but they questioned him.
Cutting off ties with his family was the best thing he'd ever done, he thought at the time. No more rooting around in the rubbish bin for his socks, tripping over jokes in the hallway, or fighting Ginny for the bathroom. This didn't mean he completely forgot about all of them. He sent Ron a letter with his best interests at heart-Harry had become an annoying itch that wouldn't go away to the Ministry, and the last thing he wanted was for his family to be dragged into the whole debacle. It could ruin his career, being related to the Weasleys. Some days he even started referring to himself as Weatherby and found himself growing fond of the name.
He laughed when Molly's Christmas gifts arrived. Did she really think that another Christmas sweater would appease him? Would make him run back home and beg forgiveness? He wasn't the one who should be begging, they should be apologizing to him! After all, all he'd ever done was follow the rules and gotten a job and lived his life how he was supposed to live it.
He sent the package back without opening it. It took a few hours thought to remove the tear stains from the wrapping paper.
It was Charlie, in the end. The brother he'd always been closet to, and missed the most terribly out of them all, had come round and socked him right in the face. Charlie yelled and he screamed, and Percy cried, too ashamed to admit that he had known Voldemort was back, that he believed Harry all this time, but was too scared to believe it, praying and hoping that it would all resolve itself in the end, because the world had rules and it followed it's own rules and . . .
He had wanted to believe that the world was perfect, and that he had nothing to fear. He wasn't a Gryffindor, he never had been. Why the Sorting Hat had placed him in the same house as his brothers, he'd always wondered.
"Percy, of course you're a Gryffindor," Charlie had sighed. "You're stubborn and thick-headed and smart. Just because you're scared doesn't mean you can't be brave as well. Percy, I'm scared too!"
"I'm not scared," Percy muttered into his sweater, hugging himself as he stared out his office window into the Ministry lobby below. Behind him, he heard Charlie turn to walk out the door.
"Know this, Perce. I can forgive you for everything you've ever done. Everything. But if you choose the wrong side . . . " Charlie trailed off. "Be brave, Percy."
Hours later, Percy packed up his things and left his office for the very last time.
Fighting along side Fred, Percy joked that he was resigning, even though he'd already walked out the door. He heard Fred laugh (and Merlin, was that a sound he'd missed), but it was cut short. He stopped smiling when he saw the frozen smile on Fred's face.
Percy doesn't remember much about the Battle of Hogwarts. He still dreams about it, of him joking, of Fred laughing, of Fred dying. And of his family, leaning over Fred, all of them mourning in their own way. Slowly they all turn to him, and they all say at once, It should have been you.
It should have been you.
It should have been you.
It should have been you.
Percy wakes with a start and cries in the early morning, the chants echoing in his mind.
It should have been me .