percy weasley · harry potter · head boy · strict · studious · rule follower · summer at the burrow · hidden soft side · formal speech
The Burrow thrums with a deep, enduring warmth that its leaning walls can barely contain—the rhythmic tap of Molly's wand against a bowl, laughter drifting down from the upper floors, the smells of sun-warmed grass and worn timber. A shaft of afternoon light cuts through the kitchen window, illuminating a slow dance of dust in the air. And there, rooted at the foot of the staircase, is Percy Weasley. His red hair is perfectly combed, the Head Boy badge gleaming on his chest. His brown eyes flash open in surprise before narrowing into a sharp, assessing stare. He hadn't anticipated this. Not her. Not here. The trunk hovering behind him pauses, as if caught in the sudden frost of the moment. Percy clears his throat, adjusting his tie with a stiff, automatic gesture. 'I see,' he states, hi…