---

I had planned on spending an evening at writing for my other fic – The Rising – when this idea struck me and I couldn't let it go. Therefore I decided to write this in stead. There will be no sequel, just this... to make a statement.

I know, I know. I'm separating myself from the crowd with this. But the ending of OotP, with Percy being separated from his family, made me sad. In the many post-OotP fics I've read, no-one has ever showed any mercy or understanding towards him. So I felt like it was my duty to defend him. And here's the result.

Dedicated to Percy – a boy that is misunderstood by many

---

Story of my life

I know many people are angry with me. Of course, who can blame them? I'm angry with myself too. At the time I thought I was doing the right thing. Of course, leaving didn't feel right, but hey – life's hard, and sometimes you've got to do things you don't like, in order to reach a higher goal. I thought I was reaching for a higher goal. I could not have been more wrong.

To clarify things: My name is Percy Weasley – 23 – and at the moment I live at a small room at the Leaky Cauldron in London. I work at Flourish and Blotts. That's a pretty hectic job. I get up early in the morning and when I return, I'm often so tired I feel like collapsing on my bed and doing nothing. Unfortunately, that's not possible. After all, a person needs to eat. That means cooking. Cooking means groceries, which means – well, I think you get my point.

In the weekends, well, I used go to Penelope – my girlfriend. She's the only one who understood me, and stayed by me when things went so terribly wrong. Sometimes, when I came home, she already cooked dinner and cleaned the house. That's why I love her, it's the small things. People might think I'm stiff and dull, but I'm capable of love – I really am.

---

I'll tell you a bit more about myself when I was younger. I was born at 'The Burrow' a small, modest house nearby Ottery st. Catchpole. Third son I was – Bill and Charlie being my older brothers - and not the last. Of course, I can't remember much form my first years. When I was two years old, my twin brothers, Fred and George were born. I remember nothing of that off course, but Bill used to say it immediately started storming as soon as Fred poked his head out... Well, I guess one could doubt that story. I do remember things about my youngest brother Ronald's birthday. Just flashes, about me playing in the garden, waiting for father to come and get us. I remember Bill was messing with one of the twin's toy broomstick, trying to make it faster, but setting it on fire instead. Weirdly enough, I know nothing about the birth of my one and only sister, Ginny. I've tried to recall that day repeatedly. I guess I really wasn't doing anything important at the time.

I've had a good childhood. Because of our large family, live at 'The Burrow' was always kind of chaotic. Or rather, cheerfully messy. Of course, the twin weren't of much help. They soon turned into the most boisterous little toddlers I've ever seen, maybe that's why my father got bald so quickly. The twins grew up, physically, but remained boisterous. They got inseparable and their presence equals trouble. Well, that may not be true really. They are just so dominantly present, careless and acting without any consideration at all. I was quite the opposite, a rather quiet, thoughtful boy. I could silently sit alone in a corner for hours without feeling bored. My mother was often concerned I would be overlooked, as Fred and George would absorb all attention. Therefore she started telling them off, hoping they would calm down and she got to spend more attention to her other children, not only me, of course. The telling off taught me that yelling that loudly wasn't the way to get what you want. And obeying the rules was a way to receive praise.

You might get the idea that I'm not fond of the twins. Then let me correct you. The twins have always been – and will always be – dear to me. If somebody touched the twins, they would get me to deal with. But I guess that wasn't really a terrifying prospect for people. I'm simply not a very intimidating person.

My little brother Ron was in no way like the twins. A lot calmer. But he do liked a joke at the time – still does. I've always seen Ron as a little brother I had to take care of. I was older and therefore had to set him an example, as I disapproved of the sample the twins set him. I knew the twin's way of handling things wasn't the right way, so I tried to keep Ron from following their footsteps and taking – what I called - the Fred and George route. Same goes for Ginny although I've got the impression my mother also made sure that her only daughter would turn out well.

In my childhood, I admired two people. My father and my eldest brother – Bill. They were more... well... my type. Considerate, not so.. attention consuming. They were successful in everything they did. Father worked for the Ministry of Magic. I always associated that with ruling the country, which - of course – deeply impressed me and I decided that – when I got old – I wanted to work at the ministry too. Well, I soon found out that working at the Ministry didn't mean ruling the country, but the ambition had been set, and I never let it go.

I've always been fairly ambitious. My parents and Bill always said that only the cleverest and wisest people worked at the Ministry and told me to work hard. Finding out at my primary school that working hard equals good marks, and good marks equals praise, started a chain reaction that would never stop. Everybody praised me for my hard work and my good marks. I remember my father saying: 'Son, continue like this, and you will get Minister of Magic for sure!' That made me swell with pride. The Minister was like a God in my eyes. Hey – He was even higher than my father! Thus I set my goal a little higher. Minister for Magic was what I wanted to be.

---

Everything seemed so perfect in my little life. So where did it go wrong? I can't recall really. As long as I can remember, by siblings teased me with my 'nerdiness'. I've never been the person for jokes. I knew they weren't meant seriously, but I couldn't laugh them away, or give a vicious replies like others would. That probably made me a perfect target. It really started when I already studied at Hogwarts, with tiny comments made by mostly the twins, but also by Ron, or Charlie.

'Oh, are you a Prefect, Percy? You should have said something, we had no idea.'

'Hang on, I think I remember him saying something about it. Once-'

'Or twice-'

'A minute-'

'All summer'

Well, I guess I really was a good target. I remember getting the Prefect badge. I was so proud. My mother and father praised me for it. I couldn't help boasting about it. Maybe I was trying to get more compliments, I don't know. It surely gave my brothers a good reason for jokes. I cannot blame them. It didn't hurt me really. If anything, it strengthened me to work harder. I just continued with my work, and my duties as a Prefect. The teachers were pleased with my hard work and effort and used me as an example for the – er – less obedient. Of course, that boosted my ego enormously. And motivated me to go even further.

In my fifth year, I met Penelope. She was a prefect too. Ravenclaw, she was in. She was a bit of a shy girl, didn't immediately ask for attention. I guess things would've turned out differently if I hadn't elbowed her bag off the table one day in Charms. All the contents were scattered across the floor. Of course I helped her cleaning everything up and soon we were the only ones left. Being in no hurry at all, we remained behind to have a bit of a chat. I've never been very comfortable around girls – except if that girl was Ginny – but talking to Penelope was stunningly easy. We had many things in common and she understood my great ambition. After that one talk we befriended and not much later she became my girlfriend. At first I tried to keep it from my family. Fred and George would have a field day if they found out . Penelope agreed, she isn't much of an attention seeker herself. We succeeded in keeping it quiet fairly long. It took a few months for them to find out. I suspect Ginny told them – she ran into Penelope and me one day. Well, I guess it was bound to come out.

The teasing about Penelope was not so bad really, but round and about that time I think I got a little too focused on everything. Maybe it was puberty, but I got the feeling I messed up everything, my temper got close to the surface and I quickly snapped at people, mostly Ron. I felt bad for failing to set Ron a good example, he seemed to follow Fred and George after all. I guess, if anybody turned him against me, it was me myself.

If I should name one moment when things started to go wrong, it was then, the start of my seventh year at Hogwarts. The teasing got a little too personal sometimes, and, although I didn't show it, they hurt...

It started with me receiving my Head Boy badge. I was probably more proud of it than my prefect badge. My siblings soon got enough of my constant boasting.

'The Ministry's providing a couple of cars.'

'Why?'

'Because of you Perce. And there'll be little flags on the bonnets, with HB on them - '

'- for Humungous Bighead.'

It was my last year at Hogwarts and, according to some books I had read, the Ministry only accepted people with many N.E.W.T's. So I started studying even harder. It was source of argument between me and Penelope, but she had N.E.W.T's too, and understood my ambition.

---

At the end of the year my father had arranged a small job at the Ministry of Magical Cooperation for me. I was delighted. I was going to make my dream come true. I still have the ambition to rise in the Ministry and get minister for Magic one day, but I now know that the Ministry is not all that I believed it to be...

There is a lot of manipulation. Never really blatant, lest the prophet would find out, yet always present. I was too naïve to notice. Ministry officials were simply saints in my eyes.

'Bartholomeus Crouch'

'Percy Weasley'

'Weasley- eh? Well, if you're anything like your father we could use your help. Your father is a hard worker. He could have been a lot more successful if he hadn't been so determined to continue the work he's doing now. Not that we don't appreciate him, but personally I like to see a healthy ambitious employee. Who knows, maybe his son will prove to be more successful.'

'Thank you, Mr., Crouch.'

Of course my father guided me trough the Ministry, teaching me who the important people were, who to take seriously and stuff. But so did my boss, Mr. Crouch. Soon I found myself fighting an internal battle. Who should I believe? Some things my boss told me clashed with what my father had told and taught me. Lucius Malfoy for example. My father warned me for him, although I didn't need it at the time, I had seen and heard enough about him and his family to know what type of people they were. But Mr. Crouch was very fond of Mr. Malfoy. I soon found out why. In the Ministry he was nothing like the person my father had described.

Very friendly he was towards everyone at the Ministry. At first I didn't believe a single word he uttered. But the longer I worked at the Ministry, the more I started to doubt my fathers judgment. Maybe he saw what he thought he saw? In almost a year, I hadn't seen Lucius Malfoy do any of the things my father swore he did so often.

I didn't tell my parents anything about my confusion, and in the end I decided I would follow both Mr. Crouch and my father. At work I would agree with Mr. Crouch about Lucius Malfoy being so generous to the Ministry, at home I would agree with my father about Lucius Malfoy buying his way into the Ministry. What can I say to defend myself? Well, I had learned to obey my superiors. I couldn't not obey. I was obeying them both...

'We're just not getting the support we need from the Department of Magical Games and Sports. Ludo Bagman-'

'I like Ludo. He was the one who got us such good tickets for the Cup. I did him a bi of a favor: his brother Otto,

got into a spot of trouble – a lawnmower with unnatural powers – I smoothed the who thing over.'

'Oh, Bagman is likable enough of course'

My siblings – well I think they weren't too happy with my new job. I don't think they pictured me as a ministry official. Like I said – I'm not a very intimidating person. I don't think they were very impressed by my work either.

We're not thundering, we're walking. Sorry if we've disturbed the top-secret workings of the Ministry of Magic.'

'What are you working on?'

'A report for the department of International Magical Co-operation. We're trying to standardize cauldron thickness. Some of these foreign imports are just a shade too thin – leakages have been increasing at a rate of almost three per cent a year –'

'That'll change the world, that report will. Front page of the Daily Prophet, I expect, cauldron leaks.'

Those remarks struck deep. My job at the Ministry meant a lot to me. I spent a lot of effort in my work, trying to live up to expectations, but no-one really seemed to appreciate it. But I was determined. Lack of appreciation at home made I wanted appreciation ay work – and there was only one way to get that – work harder. Thus the gap between me and my siblings increased. A gap between me and Fred, George, Ron and Ginny really. Bill and Charlie were almost always away.

When I worked at the Ministry for several months Mr. Crouch got ill. Because of my hard work, I was appointed as his deputy. Of course, that gave me the appreciation I had wanted. I realized that I was competent enough for this task. Mr. Crouch would sent me owls with instructions, and I would obey. No problem. When, after a while, he no longer owled me, people became suspicious. The Prophet began to publish articles about Mr. Crouch illness and other Ministry officials wanted to see the instructions he had sent me, but I was flattered. Mr. Couch had realized that I was a good substitute and knew that I could handle things in his absence. Instructions were no longer necessary – or so I thought.

It was at a inconvenient time that You-Know-Who returned. I still didn't know who to follow. My work, which ensured my career, my dream. Or my family. Minister Fudge swore that You-Know-Who hadn't returned. My family swore the opposite. What's more, Minister Fudge accused everyone I had once respected of deliberately causing mayhem. I found it hard to believe that professor Dumbledore would do such a thing. But I was too much of a coward to admit this. I don't know what the Sorting Hat was thinking when it sorted me into Gryffindor.

In the following weeks things rapidly got worse. It turned out there was a very logical explanation for the fact the Mr. Crouch no longer sent me any owl. He had died. According to Dumbledore, this had been a part of the plan to revive You-Know-Who. According to Fudge, Mr. Crouch had gone mad. Either way, I was suddenly faced with may investigations. People blamed me for not noticing my boss' "mental instability". I was no longer allowed to act as Mr. Crouch' deputy. Instead, they gave me a pitiful job, containing a lot of paperwork. I started to work harder than ever, determined to re-gain their trust, and my old job..

Not only the entire Hogwarts staff, but also my whole family swore that You-Know-Who had returned. Lead by Albus Dumbledore they were forming a group that would fight him, and even worse, were trying to convince people that You-Know-Who had returned. Minister Fudge was working just as hard, trying to squash all the rumors. As time went on, he got very angry with Dumbledore and anyone associated with him. Unfortunately, the Weasleys were associated with him. And of course, no-one failed to notice that I was a Weasley too.

It started with small remarks. People not wanting to discuss anything in front of me. "He's a Weasley after all" I got more unpopular by the minute and I saw my dream rapidly fall apart. Nobody wanted to have anything to do with me. People started to ask me for my opinion in this situation. The Choice. Force of habit maybe, or just cowardice, but it told them what I had always told them; exactly what they wanted to hear. That my loyalties laid by the ministry, and that I would help the Minister to fight these rumors.

Then one day, when I was working, Minister Fudge himself came walking up to me. He told me that his Junior Assistant, Jack Parker, had resigned and asked if I was willing to fill the vacancy. There I was, thinking that was the result of my hard work, not a second I thought there could be any other reason. Junior Assistant to the Minister! That was an even higher job than the one I had before Mr. Crouch disappeared!

When I walked into Mr. Fudge's office, and realized this was where I would work, I vowed that I wouldn't let anything make me leave this office. This was my dream. I could just picture myself behind that large desk. It was closer than ever. At that moment I felt thoroughly happy , but the feeling didn't last long. When I proudly told my parents about my new job, they didn't praise me, like I had expected. Hadn't Fudge told me why he had chosen me? Did I know for sure that it was a reward for my hard work? Maybe they wanted something else from me? I could not believe my ears. My father was the last person I had expected to doubt about me. Didn't he know how hard I had worked? Didn't he realize how cruel fate had been for me? Was he seriously trying to take from me what I had been fighting for? My own father?

'Yes, I know you've worked hard, but I can not imagine why they would let you rise in the Ministry this soon.

'Excuse me? You cannot imagine why they would let me rise in the Ministry?'

'That's not what I mean.'

'Then what do you mean?'

'Maybe they chose you, because they want something else from you?'

By this time I had got furious. I remembered the vow I had made several hours before. I will not let anything take my job from me, I will not let anything take my dream from me. But now, not even two hours later, my own father was trying to do that very thing.

'Like?'

'Maybe he wants you to tell him what other people are doing. What we're doing - '

'WHAT? You think that Fudge only wants to use me as a spy? Did it ever occur to you at all that I work there? Did it ever occur to you that not everything is about you?'

'I WILL NOT ALLOW YOU TO TALK TO ME LIKE THAT!'

'I WILL NOT ALLOW YOU TO TAKE FROM ME WHAT I'VE BEEN WORKING FOR SO HARD!'

I remember us standing there, in the kitchen. Two Weasley men, yelling at each other. Red faces, blazing eyes. The rest of the family was sitting at the kitchen table, too stunned to say anything. Anger, such as I had never felt before flowed though my veins as a drug, making it impossible for me to thing straight. And I didn't care. I was saying exactly what I was feeling.

'Percy, listen to me! Fudge is trying to work against Dumbledore. We're in league with Dumbledore. It would be convenient for him to –'

'We are not spreading false rumors, Percy, as you know very well.'

'What makes you think You-know-who is back – eh? I don't see any deaths? How do you know –'

'What are you talking about? Harry has seen it all happening!'

'Harry Potter! Now there's a reliable source! That boy is mental, -.'

'PERCY!!!'

'- addled brains. Are you all willing to put your life, your career at stake for a mentally instable –'

'Harry is NOT mentally instable!'

'THAT IS NOT THE POINT! I DON'T CARE ABOUT HARRY POTTER'S MENTAL STABILITY! YOU ARE PLOTTING AGAINST THE MINISTRY!'

'We are NOT plotting against the Ministry! We are plotting against You-kno - Voldemort!

'Yes, you ARE plotting against the Ministry! But I'm not like you! I'm not going to risk my life, my dream! If you want to ruin your own life, that's fine by me. Go ahead! But I will let you ruin my life too!'

'PERCY! How dare you talk to your father like that! He always has you best interest at heart! He has never done anything to endanger you!'

'Best interest? BEST INTEREST? Do you have any idea what reputation father has at the Ministry? I've always been forced to fight that. Show that I'm more motivated than him! That I DO have ambitions. And when things finally seem to go the right way, he goes and work against the Ministry. DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW PEOPLE BEHAVE AROUND ME? JUST BECAUSE HE'S MY FATHER!'

'What do you want, Percy? What do you mean? Are you implying that you disagree with me? Are you implying that you wish you weren't my son? Is it? Is that what you're saying?

'Yes, that what I'm saying indeed!'

'Tell me, Percy, what's more important to you? Your work? Or your family?'

There it was again. The Choice. Before, I had always said what they wanted to hear, but no more. I could no longer obey both sides. This time, I had to choose. A choice between my family or my dreams. My dreams seemed closer than ever. I had vowed that I would never let it go. My family didn't look so appealing at the moment. Even before this argument, home had reduced to no more than a place to eat and sleep.

'My loyalty's lie at the Ministry! I will show them that there are Weasleys left who are ready to fight for their dreams. I will show them that there are Weasleys left who are ready to fight for justice. I WILL SHOW THE WORLD THAT I AM NOT ARTHUR WEASLEY!'

I can't exactly tell you how it felt. When I said it I felt like I was flying. I can't remember half of the things I've said to him. Maybe I've said even worse things, I don't know. I can't even remember I walked out of the room. The next thing I remember is that I was up in my room, packing my trunk. I had felt free, like I had never felt before. I was going to do what I had swore I would do. I had realized that it had been my family that had been holding me back all that time. Leaving my family behind meant a huge leap forwards. But before I had even finished packing I was no longer flying. I had started doubting again but I was too angry to think it over. I didn't want to think it over anymore. I had taken a decision and I was going to stick to it.

I remember my mother trying to stop me when I was carrying my trunk down the stairs. She was crying. I didn't even hear what she said. I just walked out of the house. Leaving my house, my family, my childhood, my past behind.

---

The Minister for Magic was very helpful. Obviously delighted that I had chosen for the Ministry, he arranged a apartment for me in a flat just outside of London, so I had a little place of my own, mere two days after I left my family.

It was hard, those first few days. I wasn't like I couldn't take care of myself, but it was so strangely quiet at home. I was used to a house full of noise. I was used to a ghoul in the middle of the night. Now it was so quiet I couldn't sleep. I would lay awake for hours, unable to sleep, merely because of the lack of noise. Of course I got used to it, but I would always feel lonely at night. There was no problem as long as I kept myself busy, but as soon as I would sit down for a rest...

Now, I've lived with that for almost a year. Missing the old familiar sounds in the middle of the night, trying to avoid my fathers eyes when at work. And ever that horrible doubt: What if I took the wrong decision? I told nobody that it still wasn't sure. Not even Penelope, although I guess she saw right trough me and knew immediately. I looked strong, I chose to look strong and determined to the world outside.

They say that love is blind. Well, I guess there's more truth in that than people realize. I guess I was in love with the Minister. I guess that I really was blind. But blind as I was, in the months that followed I started to see flaws in the Ministry. I started to doubt some of the ways that Minister Fudge used. The Wizengamot. The Hogwarts Inquisitor. It just didn't feel right. Dolores Umbridge as Headmistress of Hogwarts.

---

Then, one night, round midnight, I received an urgent call from the Ministry. It was complete chaos. The entire Atrium was messed up. Fudge was listening to Dumbledore, in stead of arresting him. In my confusion I asked someone what was going on. He only said one word. 'Voldemort'. Numb, I went back home, without even telling anyone I had been there.

It was a nightmare. Voldemort had returned. My parents had been right all the time. I had been following the wrong people all the time. It was all over next day's newspaper. Ministry failure. Minister was too blind to see what was happening. Minister had been allowing to let Voldemort work for a full year. That was my boss. My Choice. Suddenly my love for the Ministry was all over. I could clearly see all the manipulation that had been going on.

You can imagine that, when I returned after that most disturbing night, working at the Ministry wasn't much fun anymore. Minister Fudge no longer praised me for my hard work but blamed me for leaving him alone that night. Other people started to doubt my loyalties too. If I was neither loyal to my family nor to the Ministry...

There was only one person in this world that would still be friendly too me. Penelope. She disapproved of my choice for the Ministry – and now I saw why – but she understood my situation. For a while I almost lived at Penelope's. I started to despise my own apartment in London. Too quiet. I shouldn't be living there.

Penelope told me to go back to my family. They wouldn't refuse. They would be happy with my return. But I wouldn't. I couldn't. I had betrayed them. I had said horrible things about my family. I had yelled that I would show the whole world that I am not Arthur Weasley. They would never forgive me.

Well, maybe mother would. But father? Fred? George? Ron? Ginny? What would Bill say? Or Charlie? Would they be just as forgiving? That was when Penelope lost her patience. She said I was stubborn. She said that I had to do what was right.

'You thought you did the right thing, but you didn't. You made a mistake. Lots of people make mistakes Percy! It is now time to set things right. You know where you went wrong. Where is your determination to do the right thing? Where is your ability to work for your dreams? Where is the Percy that I know?'

And I? I told her to stay out of my business... Which she did.

From that moment on things started to go very bad. I no longer enjoyed my work. I messed up. I was no longer focused. I was tired because I would lay awake at night, and suffer from nightmares when I would finally fall asleep. I got sick of all the remarks that were addressed to me. I had enough of the Minister and his eternal bad mood. I had enough of my job. So I quit.

There I was. No family. No job. No girlfriend. Nobody. I was utterly alone. As if that wasn't enough, a week later I received an owl from the Ministry telling me that I would have to leave my apartment. As much as I hated it, it was the only thing I had left.

From the remains of my salary I rented a room at the Leaky Cauldron. That was where I would have to live. I didn't have much money, and no salary, so if I wanted to keep the room, I had to find a job.

---

After two months I found a job at Flourish and Blotts. Administration. But I didn't care. I needed a job. So I started a new life. Alone. And although it wasn't the best job in the world, I was content. Everything was calming down again. No more unexpected twists. Until my family came walking into the store.

That was after I'd been working there for a little more than a year. I didn't even see them. They didn't see me either. But I heard them. I heard the voices of the people I had had lived with for so long, but hadn't seen for almost two years. I heard my mother. I heard Ron. I heard Ginny. I was tempted to get up and take a peek, but I didn't. What would they say? I had walked out of their lives. It was better if it stayed that way. It was better if I stayed out of anyone's life.

But I couldn't. No human being can live alone. Everybody needs somebody. I needed somebody. I couldn't help thinking about my family. Their voices echoed in my mind.

One day, on a Saturday, when I woke up, I decided to visit my family. Just like that. As if I had been debating with myself in my sleep and had decided that Penelope was right. I dressed up and was just prepared to Apparate when I realized that I couldn't just come in after two years. I had to bring something. But what? Flowers? Chocolate? No, that was too easy. A present? What would they like? I didn't know my family anymore. I hadn't spoken to them in two years, but before then I had neglected to ask them what interested them too. I decided to take the flowers anyway. So I went into Diagon Alley and bought an enormous bouquet roses. Then I took a deep breath and Apparated to 'The Burrow.'

For a while, I just stood there, outside. Looking at the house. It still looked the same. As if the last two years hadn't happened. I noticed there were no chicken. Where were the chicken? I walked towards the house. I remembered parts of my youth. My childhood. It flashed before my eyes.

That was were I sat when Ron was born.

Up there, that is – was – my bedroom.

'Hey Percy! How are your cauldron bottoms?'

That was were we would sit when dining outside on warm summer evenings.

Over there, on the hill, we used to play Quidditch.

That's the boulder that I once tripped over.

My mother followed me – crying – trying to stop me.

We used to have snowball fights over there.

And there I was. The door. I looked at the bell that hung outside. Suddenly I didn't want to do this anymore. They wouldn't want to talk to me anyway. I almost turned around, but in stead I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Hadn't Penelope said that I was a person who would fight for the right thing? Wasn't I a person who wouldn't give things up? She was right. She was always right. I opened my eyes and rang the doorbell.

Nothing. I rang again. Still nothing. Maybe they're not at home? I looked through the window into the kitchen. Clean, but deserted.

'Alohomora'

The door clicked and swayed open. I didn't enter just yet. I looked into the kitchen. The smell brought back even more memories.

Eating breakfast on a sunny Monday morning.

Ginny bounding into the room, asking my mother were her shoes are.

'You're spreading false rumors and causing mayhem! The Minister cannot do nothing!'

Mother baking a large cake for Fred and George's birthday

'H – hello?' I took a step inside. 'Hello? Anybody home?'

Quiet

I put down my roses and walk into the living room. Nothing chanced. Everything was just the same.

'Percy, could you feed Errol please, dear?'

Father used to sit in that armchair.

'Dad, guess what? I got promoted!'

'Mum, George's throwing pea's at me!'

Leaving the living room behind I walked upstairs to my bedroom.

My bed

My closet

My old birdcage.

My desk

My old books.

All the same. I ran with my finger over my desk. It made a line in the thick layer of dust. Not cleaned in years. Two years. Nobody has been there in two years. I turned around and ran downstairs. Living room. Grandfather clock.

I looked at the large clock. My picture pointed at 'home'. I felt a lump rise in my throat. The other pictures all pointed at "Away" or "Work".

I've not moved since. I'm still staring at the old clock. I'm unable to go away. I don't have to. I'm already at home. It never lies. I'm home. They are away.

Sitting on the couch, reading a book.

' I am NOT Arthur Weasley!'

Playing in the garden.

Trying to stop Fred from jinxing Ron with Father's wand.

'How are the cauldron bottoms coming on?'

Coming home again after my first year at Hogwarts.

Home. Away.

'Dear Mr. Weasley, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.'

'Oh, shut up Weatherby.'

'Happy birthday, Percy, dear!'

Proudly showing my new Head Boy-badge.

Gone. All gone

'Twelve O.W.L's, congratulations son. That's something to be proud of.'

'Personally, I like to see a healthy and motivated person.'

'Where is the Percy that I know?'

'My loyalty's lie at the Ministry!'

'Humongous Bighead'.