Welcome to The Weasley Family Files, a book to satisfy all your Weasley fic needs! Read short stories about each Weasley! I hope you enjoy, let's get started!
"Let the sorting begin!" Minerva McGonagall said it was the beginning of the school year, the year was 1987 and there was a cluster of nervous first years congregated in front of the deputy headmistress. But, there wasn't an eleven year old more nervous than Percy Weasley, the third son of the Weasley clan.
If you were paying attention, you would have seen him shaking, pushing his glasses back up his nose, every time they started to slide down, as they really were far too big for his face. Percy never complained about this, however, he knew his family could hardly afford these, he was content to be able to read the books he found around the house, without his head hurting.
Now, why was he shaking, you might be asking, well the answer is simple, but at the same time, very complicated. Percy was nervous about which house he was going to be placed in. He knew, of course, that his parents wouldn't care what house he was put in, but every single Weasley had been a Gryffindor, well, in recent memory, at least.
Percy didn't see himself as brave. Especially in comparison to his older brothers, Bill and Charlie. He had always known he was the black sheep, the one that didn't fit, his younger brothers, Fred and George, made a point to remind him of that, of course, they didn't mean to make him feel bad. Instead of going outside and playing Quidditch he preferred to stay inside and read. At dinner he made sure to eat slowly in carefully, okay, maybe not that carefully, but in comparison to Charlie he was practically a delicate flower.
Anyways, back to the matter at hand, how was Percy to expect that he might end up being the bravest Weasley. Who was to guess that by going against his family's wishes, trying to do things his own way and then realizing his mistakes and asking for forgiveness would end up showing everyone, including himself, that he was worthy to be in the house of Godric Gryffindor. Who would've guessed?
But whatever he was to become, at that moment Percy Ignatius Weasley was just a scared, shaking, eleven year old with ginger hair, freckles, and glasses that were too big for his face.
"Weasley, Percy," McGonagall called, the third Weasley son took a deep breath.
What's your house? I'm a Hufflepuff (no shit, sherlock). ~Harper
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