Percy Weasley was always the strange one. The one who was different from all the rest.

Yet no one noticed him. He always locked himself in his room, finishing essays and writing papers for "his own enjoyment". Fred and George always laughed at him.

"Who writes papers for fun?" George would say. Then Fred would laugh and point out that only mental people did. They'd make all these stupid jokes about how Percy needed to go to St. Mungo's straight away, and they would call for Mum and tell her there was something wrong with Percy.

I'd laugh along, of course. Why wouldn't I?

Every year, every summer it would be the same. He'd come home from Hogwarts and shut himself from the world in that small dusty room of his. He'd come out for breakfast and dinner-lunch occasionally.

At Hogwarts I hardly ever saw him. I didn't even know who his friends were, or what his favourite subjects were, or his favourite flavour of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. I wasn't sure if he had friends, or if he had a favourite subject. I didn't even know if he even liked Bertie Bott's.

I didn't know his favourite food, favourite colour, what his favourite hobby was. I didn't know who his first girlfriend was, or if he even had a girlfriend. Hell, I didn't even know what he liked, what he hated-

Thing is, I didn't know much about Percy Weasley. Close to nothing, to be exact.

And the little I did know-or at least, what I thought I knew-turned out to be wrong.

"Quidditch is dumb."

Percy looked up from the book he was reading to see two identical faces glaring at him with shock and disbelief. They hovered from the ground on their old Shooting Stars that they managed to sneak out from the shed (Molly had banned them from flying for a year for flying over Percy and dropping eggs on his head-but that's a whole other story). Even at the age of four, the twins were very good flyers.

"Did he just say-"

"-I think he did."

They seemed to have already developed their twin-mind-reading thing, too.

"Quidditch is the best sport in the whole wide world!"

"The Bludgers are fun to hit!"

"And the Snitch is very shiny and pretty!"

"Well, I think it's dumb." Percy said, matter-of-factly.

"But the Snitch-"

"It's just a golden sphere that was enchanted to fly. What is so special about that?"

"Percy, you're no fun." Fred pouted and ran inside, with George at his side.

I guess I don't blame him, for doing what he did.

He had no one. Bill had Charlie. Fred had George. Ginny and I always hung out.

But Percy?

He had nobody.

"Ron, dear, come here-yes, you too, Charlie, stop playing with that ridiculous dragon toy-" Molly ushered everybody to the dinner table where Arthur, Percy, Bill and three year old Ginny sat.

"It's not a toy, it's a model of a Hungarian-" Charlie started.

"Oh, sorry Charlie dear, I know, you told me before,it is a model of a Hungarian Hornwing, now move along, your father has something important to tell you all."

"It's a Hungarian Horntail…" Charlie muttered as he walked to his seat.

"Finally," Molly sighed in relief. "Now, as I was saying, your father has something important to say-wait, someone's missing…"

"You mean, two people. I reckon the twins are upstairs causing a catastrophe." Percy said the last word extra loud and clear-he had been learning new advanced words from the book his Auntie Muriel gave him. He beamed at the look of confusion on everyone's face, excluding Molly and Arthur, who just looked exasperated from Percy's constant use of "big words."

Molly sighed and shouted. "Fred! George! Come down, right this instant!" A loud, "Coming!" came from above, followed by loud (and fast) footsteps.

"Where were you, I called you down for dinner ten minutes ago! Never mind that, go sit." The twins, panting since they just ran down six flights of stairs, sat down beside each other at the table.

"Where's the food?" Fred asked.

"Later! Daddy has to tell us something!" Ginny scowled. She was only four, but she was becoming more like her mother each day.

"Well, um," Arthur cleared his throat. "Today, your mother and I thought that we'd go to the beach!"

Bill's face lit up. "Shell Cottage?"

Charlie groaned. "We always go there…can't we go somewhere else? Like, Romania?"

"No, Charlie, we are not going to Romania, for the seventh time! Now, all of you, go pack-well, except for you two. Arthur, could you help Ron pack? I'll go help Ginny. Now, everybody, chop-chop!"

Percy stayed silent, but I knew he couldn't wait. He loved the beach.

It was the only place that he could be a normal kid. Where he could be happy and free.

SPLASH!

"WOOHOO!" George hollered. "Come in here, Fred, it's awesome!"

"Okay!" Fred replied. Another splash followed, with another cry of happiness. "You're right, it is awesome."

"When have I been wrong?" The twins high-fived.

Percy was sitting on the sandy floor, building a sandcastle with a shovel and an old bucket he found in a bush near the shoreline. He was trying to build Hogwarts, but right when he was about to make the astronomy tower, the water came and washed it away.

"The tide is going to keep washing it away, you know. You might as well stop."

Percy paid no attention to Charlie, who was playing with the Welsh Green looking bored and homesick. He kept building, determined to make a miniature, sand version of Hogwarts before the tide came and destroyed it again.

"Perce, come in here!" George shouted. Percy ignored him and kept on building.

"Fine, be like that." Fred muttered, but loud enough so Percy could hear him. George laughed. "It's alright, he probably would've came with those hideous yellow swimming trunks…" The twins swam farther away from the beach, their voices fading away, until the only noise was the sound of a shovel digging into the sand and the gentle waves.

"YES!" Percy exclaimed in delight. He finally built Hogwarts without the tides coming and ruining it! He ran inside to get Bill and show him what he did, but Bill said he was too tired. So he went to ask his Mum-but she was too busy. He didn't bother getting his dad, he was probably working on a muggle contraption.

When he ran back outside, feeling disappointed that no one wanted to see what he made, the tides have already washed it away.

It is no wonder that he left our family. He didn't belong.

He was so different from all of us, yet no one noticed him. Just another Weasley.

I think that's why he left us. Ginny, well, she was the only girl, and of course, she was the youngest. Me, Ron Weasley, was Harry Potter's best friend, helped conquer You Know Who almost half a dozen times. Fred and George, well, they were the pranksters of the school-everyone knew them. Charlie, he was the one in Romania, who worked with the Dragons. Bill was the oldest and the one who was dating the beautiful quarter Veela.

Percy? Well, compared to everyone else, he was nobody.

Now, after leaving us, he is something.

Now, everyone will know, "That's Percy Weasley!"

"The fool!"

"The idiot!"

"The ministry-loving, family-disowning, power-hungry moron!"

And no, he doesn't enjoy this. Not anymore, anyway.

The comments only remind him of the stupid things he did. Everyone, everything, reminds of what he'd done.

Everywhere, there was salt.

Everywhere, salt rubbed into Percy Weasley's already painful wound.