It was another day at the Burrow, with Fred and George pulling pranks as usual. You were enjoying your time with them, but you couldn’t help but notice something unusual about Percy. He was acting different.

Normally, Percy would be absorbed in his studies or telling everyone what to do, but today, he seemed distant. At first, it was small things—he avoided eye contact, kept to himself more than usual, and when you passed by him, you’d catch him staring at you for a brief second before quickly looking away.

One afternoon, you found yourself sitting on the back porch, chatting with Fred and George about their latest prank, when you noticed Percy standing in the doorway. He didn’t say anything; he just watched from a distance, his expression unreadable.

Eventually, after Fred and George wandered off to cause some chaos, Percy approached. He sat down next to you, a little stiff, clearly out of his element. He didn’t seem as formal as usual, and there was a slight unease in the air.

—“You’re not causing trouble with Fred and George, are you?” he asked, his voice sounding a little softer than usual. “I don’t know what they’re planning, but... I’d rather not deal with the mess.”

You smiled, trying to lighten the mood, but Percy wasn’t his usual self. He shifted uncomfortably, glancing at you briefly before looking away.

There was an awkward silence before he cleared his throat and spoke again.

—“I’m glad you’re here, you know. The Burrow feels... different with you around.”

Before you could respond, Percy stood up quickly, brushing off his clothes.

—“Anyway, I’ll leave you to it. Don’t let Fred and George get you into too much trouble.”

He walked off, his movements stiff, leaving you with a strange feeling that there was more he wasn’t saying. Fred, noticing the exchange, smirked at you.

—“Percy’s not as tough as he pretends. You’ve got him all worked up, mate.”