Bill had his eye on adventure, and Charlie had his eye on dragons. Percy was the one who was watching their parents, who saw the worried creases deepen around Molly’s eyes even when she was smiling, looking at another letter from Hogwarts, another list of things they couldn’t afford. He was the one who saw how Arthur laughed off the jibes of coworkers a little too heartily, brushing teasing away with jovial vigor that belied knowledge of the barbed truth behind the joke.
And everyone knew Bill would be gone as soon as he graduated, and there weren’t a surplus of dragons in Ottery St. Catchpole, so Charlie would be off as well. Which made Percy the eldest by default, and he knew that he would have to live up to the title. The Weasley family name would rest on his shoulders, and he would be a good role model for the twins (god knows they needed it) and for Ron and little Ginny.
He imagined bringing home a crew of builders who brick by brick would make the Burrow stand tall and proud again. Molly would cry, and Arthur would be laugh and tease her, but he’d clap Percy on the shoulder and they’d both know.
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