Percilla tried to ignore her brother for a few days but was not interested in any apology that Ron could force out. Percilla had spent her whole life trying to be what everyone wanted her to be. The perfect girl that Molly had always wanted in a sea of boys. Percilla cooked, cleaned, got the post, got good grades, and obeyed. However, she was invisible to her mother. Arthur Weasley was a good man but blindsided. He worked all day trying to make ends meet in a department that did not respect him. Arthur Weasley had been obsessed with muggle artifacts so much that that has become his life. He would spend his time at work with them, then in his shed outback, tinkering and dissecting the artifacts. Percilla knew that her father was raised in a semi-traditional family. Her grandmother Cedrella was a member of the prestigious Black family. While Septimus Weasley was still considered a blood traitor by Black standards, he still believed in the olde-ways.

Bill had told her that father got caught with a muggle writing utensil once when he was a teen by his mother, who freaked. Apparently, Cedrella was not accepting, and Molly was overindulging. Percilla knew she sounded bitter towards her mother. It was a pang of guilt she always carried with her whenever a critical thought came about. Molly was not abusive. She did not hit her children or starve them. But it was lonely being in a house with so many people. Molly Weasley had her hands in everything and nothing at the same time. She had a million projects around the house that she bought stuff for but never completed. She always had something that needed her attention that she could not help you with. If one of the younger children needed something, it was one of the older children's jobs to take on that responsibility. Molly had always wanted to be a mother, even as a young child. She and Arthur married young, right out of Hogwarts. Had Bill only nine months later. Neither striving for something nor driven for something more significant than where they were. Percilla knew they were poor, but it was not because of a lack of opportunities. Her parents were fine being where they were. They did not see a need to change, even if it could give their children more options. Molly had finally felt more fulfilled when Ginny came along. By then, she had seven young children while a war was going on.

Percilla and Marus were heading back from Hogsmead. It was a lovely Saturday afternoon, a bit nippy as the winter holidays approached. Percilla enjoyed her time with Marcus and his friends as she met Adrian's betrothed, Verena Rosier, sixth year Slytherin, and Graham's Heiress, Peony Parkinson, fifth year Slytherin. The girls were lovely and exceptionally social to Percilla. It was strange how welcoming they had all been to her. It seemed the only person who said anything was Draco Malfoy. Verena had let it slip about Marcus defending her honor in the common room one afternoon when the Malfoy heir asked him how he done it. Apparently, Marcus didn't even have to reply before the second year asked how he could stand being so close to a Weasley. Percilla didn't let it show on her face and would not admit it, but that stung a bit.

"Oh, how did he put it, Peony," Verena said excitley in a hushed tone as if she was keeping a secret from the men.

"I thought Malfoy's were smarter than to insult a courtship of a Flint," Peony said, giving Percilla a smile as she placed a hand on her chest in delight. "He didn't even have to raise his voice. It scared the boy."

"I like it best when he punches them," Adrian stated as he sat beside Verena.

Percilla looked over at the man that sat down beside her. Marcus wore a dark green cashmere sweater that was soft when Percilla's arm brushed up against it and a pair of black slacks. It was casual, but he looked so attractive. Percilla felt a little embarrassed, knowing she was the black sheep in her sale rack, but she knew woolen gray and black plaid dress. Her winter cloak was old and a bit threadbare. Charlie had given it to her before leaving for Romania, as he was small like her.

"Boy, think's his name carries more weight than it does. He's just an heir and a young one at that. He should be more respectful than he is." While Marcus was not friendly per se, he was respectful. He knew that you caught more Huldufólk with offerings than with insults. "He'll learn it with the running he has next practice."

Percilla smiled shyly as she looked towards the tea kettle in front of them. However, she couldn't stop the blush when she felt Marcus' hand on the small of her back when he offered her a biscuit.

"Mother and father will be in Hogsmead next weekend before Yule,"

Marcus's tone held a bored edge as he led Percilla towards the grounds of Hogwarts.

"Okay," Percilla said, smiling. She understood that he had duties and responsibilities. While she did not hold any titles, Marcus was an heir, and specific requirements were placed upon him by way of birthright. "I can do some Solstice shopping and meet you at the castle."

"What?" he sounded confused, which caused Percilla to raise her eyes to look at him, "I want you to come with. Mum has been going non-stop with questions about you in her letters and to properly meet you."

Percilla was surprised and started to feel a bit nervous. She had met Lady Flint in passing, but it was merely an accident at that time. "Oh, yeah, sure, that would be wonderful."

Marcus let out a smile that caused Percilla's breath to leave her lungs, "you'll be fine," he promised, and she believed him. "I'll be there with you the whole way."

"Okay, but if,"

"Hey, Perci!" a male voice called, cutting Percilla off her joke and causing her to turn around.

"Hello Harry," Percilla said, curtsying towards the young heir. Harry looked flustered, not understanding what Percilla was doing. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, um, do you think we could talk? in uh private?" Harry's eyes seemed to shift as if looking out for someone as he spoke to the oldest Weasley in Hogwarts at that moment.

"Not a chance," Marcus stated as he stood in front of Percilla crossing his arms over his chest.

Percilla smiled softly at Marcus' protective side. She gently touched his bicep and looked to the second year. "Why don't we all go to the court and sit down? It should be cleared out by now."

Percilla knew that Marcus was not going to just let her walk away with someone, even if it was Harry Potter. Taking Marcus's elbow, she let him lead her towards the court and sit on one of the stone benches.

"What's all this about, Harry? You look terrified."

He did. Harry looked like he had been staying up all night. His usual messy black hair looked like a greasy nest of tangles at that moment. His eyes were tired and looked sunken like he had not slept.

"Um, I don't know if you can answer this. I just. You're the first person I thought to ask. I'm just having a hard time." Percilla reached out and placed a gentle hand on Harry's hand, tilting her head. Harry seemed to calm down and take a deep breath before continuing. "We had dueling class, and Malfoy set a snake out, and I tried to talk to it and tell it not to attack Justin, but it wouldn't listen to reason." Harry's words rushed out as one. Percilla's eyes widened slightly at the detail that he could talk to the snake. "Now everyone is calling me the Heir of Slytherin. Do you think I am the heir of Slytherin? I don't even know what that means, but people are being mean, and I just.." Harry's voice tapered off as he stared down at his hands before whispering, "I want to be normal."

"Oh, Harry," Percilla said, knowing that life hadn't been easy for Harry potter, no matter what others thought. Dumbledore told others that Harry Potter was in the safest and most luxurious place he could be. But Percilla remembered the skinny, scared little boy who sat beside her the first day in the great hall. "As far as I know, the Potters don't have any family ties with the Slytherin name. However, that would be a question for your case manager at Gringotts. Have you tried writing to them?"

Harry looked confused as his eyebrows knitted together before shaking his head, "I, I don't know what you're talking about."

"You didn't meet with your case manager when you first came back to the Wizarding world?" Marcus asked as he looked down at the small boy.

"No," Harry answered, shaking his head, "We got there, and Hagrid already had my key in his pocket."

"Wait," Marcus said, raising his hand up to stop Harry, "you're saying that Hagrid, who is no blood relation to you, had the key to your bank vault?" Marcus' face got agitated when he saw Harry's nod.

"I didn't care that he did," Harry stated quickly, looking from Percilla to Marcus, trying to convey his sincerity. It panged Percilla's heart to see him like this. "I could get the money that way and get my school supplies."

"No, it is a big deal," Marcus argued, "Gringotts keys are supposed to be returned to the account manager if Lord of age has passed upon the time that the Lady of the house can come in and have their Will read and wishes passed. You should have been taken to your account manager, and a lineage test is done before they can do a full Vault test to see what you have in your name."

Percilla looked over at Harry, whose eyes held so much worry. "You would have been able to get your money regardless, Harry. It is your money."

"I don't know what to do." Harry's voice was a little over a whisper.

"How about I help you write a letter to Gringotts tonight that we can send that way? They can have your account manager send you correspondence." Percilla said softly, "as far as we know publically, you are the last of your family line Harry. The information is needed and can inform you of your houses and titles." Harry nodded towards Percilla, not knowing what else to do.

"Is it bad to be a parsalmouth Perci?"

"No," Percila said without overthinking, "it is a special gift that Mother Magic bestowed upon you. We all have certain talents, and this one is uniquely you."

Marcus walked the two Gryffindors off at their entrance that night, and Percilla spent an hour helping Harry write out his letter to Gringotts. Percilla knew Harry was confused and scared by the new information thrown at him once again. The young boy had strived to be normal, and it seemed like every year, he was being shown that he was in no way an ordinary lad.

"Thank you, Perci, for everything," Harry's voice said once they adequately sealed the letter.

"You're very welcome, Harry," Percilla smiled softly. Harry was a good boy, she mused to herself.

"If you don't mind me asking, Ron was upset one night and was complaining about how you are into dark magic and stuff," Harry's green eyes met her's, "I know that's not true, but I wasn't sure what he was talking about."

Percilla wasn't sure what to tell the lad. Harry grew up with muggles, so he was never taught the olde ways.

"I have a gray magical core Harry," Percilla started but could see the more unanswered questions in his eyes, "magical beings have three natural cores. Light magic means that light spells come naturally to you. Gray magical core means that light magic and some dark magic come naturally. What a lot of students are not taught is that Dark magic is not evil. Dark magical core people are magical creatures like werewolves, vampires, and fae, but also those whose family magic connects better with dark magic. Dark magic is not Black magic. Black magic is like unforgivable curses. It eats at your soul and destroys the mind. Many white wizards have gone black because they let power destroy their senses." Percilla hoped that Harry understood what she was saying. "Don't let anyone tell you who you are, Harry." Percilla laughed lightly, knowing she was speaking from experience.

Harry looked down at his wringing hands, "I don't even know who I am. I spend my whole time running from the boy-who-lived name and the people who want to take my photo. I don't want the fame."

Percilla's heart pulled as she felt for the minor child in front of her. He was just a boy, "don't let them make you feel like this. You are the master of your own emotions. If someone doesn't like who you are or what you like to do, toss them." Percilla giggled as she shrugged her shoulders, "you deserve to be happy too, Harry. And if you ever need anyone to talk to, I'm always available, and Marcus will likely be present too. Sorry, we are a bit of a package deal."

Harry couldn't stop the smile as he felt he finally had someone that listened to him and accepted he wasn't perfect. It was tiring to always be looked at like he was to save the day when he just wanted to be like every other twelve-year-old.

"How is that going?" Harry asked before his eyes went wide. He had not meant to ask that. Ron had been complaining non-stop for weeks since finding out about Percilla's 'courting?' Harry wasn't sure what Neville had called it again.

"It's going well. Marcus might look absolutely terrifying, but he is actually quite sweet."

Maybe Ron was right that Perci was under a curse cause Marcus Flint? Sweet? However, when she was with the Slytherin, Harry had seen Perci smile more often than usual.

"Is he your boyfriend? Neville called it something, but I can't really remember." Percilla's face wasn't that of annoyance or anger as Harry was used to when he asked too many questions.

"Courting is probably what Neville said," Percilla offered, gaining a nod from the younger, "In the wizarding world, two people who want to be betrothed and bond enter a courtship."

"Like an arranged marriage? Are you being forced?"

Percilla just laughed at that. It was light and airy as she shook her head, "No, no, I guess this might be different in the muggle world. Arranged marriages mean that two compatible people are engineered to meet and do courtship dates. You begin to get to know one another. The boy presents courtship gifts to show he can provide for the maiden. It is all very personal. In the end, the court can end if either party does not feel the attraction." Percilla could see the realization dawn in the green eyes of the boy in front of her. "I have a book about this stuff Harry. I know the magical world and a new culture are still new to you."

"Um, yeah, Perci, that would be great," Harry's voice was breathless as he nodded his head.

Raising her to want, Percilla called out a spell that Harry was unsure of as he watched a book fly down towards her.

'Wizarding Culture Through the Ages, by Osias Barren' Harry, looked down at the title, then back up at Percilla. She was still smiling at him, that warm smile she held for a select few people. Precilla was always stern during prefect duties. Made sure students knew that she was not one that would let them slide on the rules. However, he noticed she only gave those rare smiles to Fred and George, Ginny, Marcus, and now him.