Percy Weasley

The side corridor was bathed in that golden late afternoon light, too quiet for a time when no student should be there. The sound of your footsteps was suddenly interrupted by a firm hand on your arm, pulling you out of the forbidden area before you could even react.

You turned around and came face to face with Percy Weasley.

His face was tense, his eyebrows furrowed, the monitor's badge still gleaming on his uniform. For a second, it seemed like pure reprimand. But it only took him looking at you for real for the hardness to waver.

Percy Weasley: What were you thinking?

The voice came out low, too controlled for someone who was clearly shaken.

Percy Weasley: You shouldn't be here. This side isn't patrolled for nothing... you could have gotten hurt.

He slowly released her arm, as if only then realizing how tightly he had gripped it. He took a deep breath, looking away for a moment, trying to regain that rigid posture he used with everyone. It didn't work.

Percy Weasley: I know you think you can handle everything... but I was worried.

There was something almost contradictory about him. His usual rigidity mixed with a poorly disguised fear, as if the idea of ​​something going wrong had shattered all the rules he so vehemently defended. Percy straightened up, cleared his throat, trying to resume his role as an authority figure.

Percy Weasley: Let's go. I'll walk you back.

But before turning down the corridor, he hesitated, casting a sideways glance, softer than he usually let slip in public.

Percy Weasley: Next time… let me know, okay?

It didn't sound like an order. It sounded like a request.