All rights and privileges to Harry Potter are copyrighted trademarks and property of J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, and all peoples associated. And all rights and other stuff to The Lioness Quartet and Wild Magic are copyrighted trademarks and property of Tamora Pierce and Random House. The characters of these fictions are used WITHOUT permission for the entertainment purposes only. This work of fiction is not meant for sale or profit. As if anyone would actually pay money for this thoughtless drivel. And even if they like it, it's right here and money is not required. So there! Bottom line: I don't own them I just like to play God with them. Like an ant walking back and forth across my feet for what seems like miles upon miles. Or a bug with a magnifying glass as it slowly burns into nothingness. *Ahem* Yes, I don't own them. Never have. Never will. *Sigh* And the title was borrowed from a Savage Garden song, The Animal Song, so that belongs to them and the same disc applies.

Pairings: Percy/Penny, eventually Percy/Marcus, Cedric/Oliver
Contents: Angst, Slash, POV, Lemon (later on), Fluffy (sorta), Het
Spoilers: Yup. Books 2 and up.

Summary: Percy isn't the 'freak' he and everyone else claim him to be. That, I think, is the worse summary I've ever come up with.
Status: Incomplete
A/N: In here Oliver is a friend and Percy can be normal around him, or so is my skewed view. And I liked the idea of Percy as a Wild Mage too much that I butchered it. Ruthlessly. Also, this is unbeta-ed. Was originally Percy Weasley and the Dominion Jewel.

*~* indicates time change

~*~ indicates scene change

Superstars and Cannonballs

I storm into my dormitory disturbing Oliver's studying. I jerk open a drawer in my nightstand, yanking out a blank scroll, quill, and a bottle of ink.

"Perce?" he asks, hesitantly. I don't think he has ever seen me this angry before. Good for him. A learning experience: don't come near me when I'm angry.

"Not now, Oliver," I snap. "Give me a couple minutes." Maybe by then I'll have regained my calm. Maybe.

"O-Ok…"

Stabbing the ink with my quill, I begin a terse letter.

~Charlie~

How could you not tell me? How could you live with yourself allowing them to attack me, ridicule me, while you emerged unscathed? I cannot stand backstabbers. I thought I understood you more than anyone else in our family, I thought I trusted you, and then I discover this.

Enough with the hysteric rhetorics. Professor Dumbledore has informed me of our… situation with animals. I used to think that it took great pride and bravery to reject a career in quidditch to go off and live with dragons. Now I realize it only took cowardice and an inescapable destiny. You couldn't avoid hearing voices. Having everyone think you belonged in St. Mungo's. Having your elder, respected brother let them laugh as he laughed along with them.

Charlie, why didn't you at least tell me that I wasn't a freak? That it was ok to be the way I am, we are. That I was not some sideshow. That you are the same.

Just be glad this isn't a howler. The only reason it's not is because it would unsettle the dragons.

~P~

I reread what I have written. This should show him exactly how I feel. Maybe even make him guilty.

I blow the ink dry before rolling up the scroll and running out of my room, intent on getting to the olwrey.

However, I have overlooked one minor detail: Oliver, who is now preventing me from leaving the boys' dorm.

"Out of my way, Oliver." I crush the scroll in my fist.

"No," he states curtly. "You're angry – God knows what's gotten you this uninhibited – and you're obviously not thinking straight." I'm sure he is in utter disbelief that I am capable of this amount of emotion. Percy: always thinking with a level head. Always. "If you mail that now, you'll regret it. Isn't that what you kept telling me? 'Oliver, don't worry about it, put it past you. If you don't do something stupid then you won't be able to regret it.' You told me that after every Slytherin match. You - "

"This isn't about quidditch, Oliver. This is about deception and betrayal." Doesn't he see? Doesn't he know?

"Percy, if you're still upset after the next few days, then you can mail it. But I guarantee that when you read that letter again, you'll wonder who the hell wrote that and how could he have been so foolish."

Foolish?

"Get out of my way, Oliver. I don't have ti - "

"You're not going to win, Perce. It's my turn to win; it's my turn to keep a level head."

If that's the way he plays it…

"Fine." I turn and slam the scroll into the drawer.

"That's better," he sighs thankfully.

I'll go back later tonight.

*~*

"Alanna," he sniffled. "They're doing it again."

"Percy, you're old enough now to stand up for yourself," she explained.

"How can I stand up for myself when I don't even know why?" he asked desperately.

"Little one," she shook her head. "You'll be going to a new school soon, you can make new friends and start all over again. But, you still are who you are and nothing will change that."

"Alanna!" he cried. "That doesn't make any sense! How can I make friends if they know what I do? You've seen what my brothers do."

"I know what you do," she spoke confidently. He found himself wishing for the same confidence. "Am I not a friend?"

"You don't have a choice, though," he blurted. "You have to stay put."

"So do your brothers and sister," she retorted calmly. "But they are not what you consider friends, are they?"

"N-no."

"There you go, then."

*~*

Job done.

I sent Hermes out with the letter for Charlie. He should receive it by tonight.

The portrait hole slides closed behind me as I return to the common room, leaving me face to face with a very stern Oliver. I woke him up. I'll have to be quieter next time I… sneak out… Merlin's balls, I broke the rules!

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"I knew you would sneak out," Oliver says coldly.

I sniff at the air. Then why did you stop me earlier? Wanted to see a prefect break the rules? I brush past him.

"Who was the letter to?" Oliver continues, following me. Of course he's following me, does he not live in the same room?

If it will get you off my back… "Charlie," I snort non-communicatively not turning to Oliver.

"Charlie?" Oliver repeats, stunned.

Go away.

"It's nothing!" I hiss over my shoulder.

"Nothing as in Flint-nothing?"

Stop.

"No, nothing as in Charlie-nothing," I sneer sardonically.

"Percy, please," Oliver begs, trotting to keep up with my long strides. Benefits of being tall. "I'm a friend, not an enemy, not Charlie. You can tell me what's wrong!"

I whirl around and lock onto his dark eyes. Liquid brown. We stand like that, seeing just who will back down first.

"What the hell - ?" George? There was a thud as two other bodies, presumably, run into him.

"What's the commotion?" Lee grumbles.

"Lover's tiff?" Fred offers. Oliver and I are not involved! I scream in my mind. Penny's my girlfriend!

I turn to unleash hell upon my brothers and their friend, ripping my eyes from Oliver's.

"What else would it be this early in the morning?" Lee bonks Fred on the head.

"Gees, Fred, it's not like Percy could be upset about anything else," George feigns exasperation. "Just keeping up on his studies and Oliver got pissed that the book was getting more attention than him."

"Oh yeah," Fred frowns. "I'd forgotten that Percy doesn't have emotions." How dare he! My nostrils flare. "No wonder the whole school hates him."

That's not true! It's not! I have friends! I have a girlfriend. There's Penny and there's Oliver and there's Alanna. And that's it.

They must hate me then.

Oliver chokes down an infuriated gasp as I flee the room.

From my own room I can hear the four of them still talking – arguing.

"I think that was a bit far, Fred," Lee states seriously.

"It's true, though," Fred counters lightly.

"That's it, show's over," Oliver growls. "Go back to sleep."

Oliver stalks back into our room, and sits on his bed, hugging his knees to his chest, watching the far wall and watching me pretend to sleep. For hours. It's now four in the morning and there is no way either of us will get any sleep for the rest of the night.

"Percy," Oliver tries. I ignore him. "I know you're not asleep; your breathing is too irregular."

I snort. Studying my breathing habits: boredom.

"Fine," he spits. "If you won't talk, I will. I'm sick of your 'pity me' attitude, Percy. Learn to stand up for yourself. To be yourself. To hell with anyone else! The twins were completely out of line, so just ignore them. Percy, really, when was the last time you let yourself go? You were yourself? With others around?"

I grumble a curse under my breath and turn over, exposing my back.

"You made yourself this way, you know," he continues softly. "When was the last time you were held?"

"Penny," I reply crossly. "Yester - "

"By someone you loved, who loved you," he clarifies hastily.

I sigh. I can't be anything but honest. Penny is a nice girlfriend, but not a perspective wife.

"You don't have to answer, I just want you to know - "

"The war."

"The war?!" Oliver almost falls off his bed. "That was the last time you were held?!"

"Yeah," I laugh a sad, bitter laugh.

"Good God, Percy, you're fucked up!" That sums it up.

"I know." Bitterness and resentment twist through my words.

Oliver jumps off his bed and joins me in mine, embracing me from behind. What the – If the twins found us!

"Oliver?"

"Shh, Perce, just go to sleep. I'll hold you, but I've got practice in an hour so I can't guarantee I'll be here when you wake up." He's being so honest and loyal. Maybe he should have been a Hufflepuff.

I have to share, to open. To repay him. But I can't. I can't bring myself to that. Not yet, I'm not ready.

It wasn't love, I want to say. Not during the war. It was fear that held us, not love.

"Go to sleep, Percy," Oliver whispers gently, tightening his grip.

*~*

"Alanna! Guess what!" He bounced from foot to foot excitedly. "I made a friend at school!"

"That's wonderful, Percy. What are they like?"

"He's got dark hair, he's nice too boot, and likes to play quidditch."

"Is that so? What would his name be?"

"Oh," he flushed; embarrassed he had forgotten that important detail. "His name is Oliver and I can talk to him and he talks to me like a person. I'm happy, Alanna. I never thought in a million years that I would - "

"Percy," she said sharply, cutting him off. "Don't underestimate yourself."

"He doesn't know what I do, though," he explained sadly. "I say that I go to the library – he won't set foot in the library, all those books scare him – but I really go up to the owlrey."

"Percy, tell him, I'm sure he'll understand."

"I don't think so," he countered. "I really don't think so."

*~*

"Oliver!"

I just ignore it, Fred doesn't want to bother me; he wants to pester Oliver… who fell asleep last night with his arms around my waist.

And it hits the fan.

"Oliver!"

Great, George is with him too. Oliver must have slept through practice – for me. Mind, he didn't want to sleep through practice, but he did.

And now the twins from hell are coming to see why.

On cue they burst into the room.

"You know," George muses, "maybe we should knock before entering…" Not only is it polite, but you can avoid confrontations such as these.

"Good idea, my dear brother."

"Shh!" Oliver hisses, detangling himself from my body, not knowing I'm awake yet.

"Guess they made up," Fred shrugs.

"It appears so."

"Fred, George, I'm sorry about practice, but let me get dressed before I explain, ok?" Oliver lets the twins' comments pass over him.

"Fine with us," George leers.

"We'll be going…" The door clicks behind them.

"What a fine mess I've gotten myself into," he grumbles, sleepily groping for his robes, still not realizing I'm awake. And it's my fault entirely he's in this mess.

"I'm sorry," I apologize.

He jumps, surprised at my sudden voice.

"It's not your fault," he sighs once he has calmed.

"Yes, it is," I argue. "I made them hate me and you're stuck in the middle."

"Percy, we're not going to argue about this now. We're going down for breakfast. Got it." He leaves no room for argument.

I nod.

~*~

I sit alone in the back of the library waiting for Marcus to arrive; he had told – ordered me to meet him here to discuss payment.

I snort. I don't even want to begin to think of anything I'm able to offer him.

"Good. You're here." Marcus drops into a chair opposite me.

"I'm here for my sister." Not for you.

"I never said you were here for me," he growls in return. I won't admit he has a point.

"What do you want?" Right to the point. No room for error.

"Payment," he shrugs.

"What form?" Did I just say that?

"Since you obviously don't have any money - " He curls his lip into a sneer. Who cares if I don't have any money? I'm certainly not complaining. " – I was thinking about you."

Shite.

"You want me… to pay with… myself?" I say slowly, not liking this at all. And I thought Oliver had a dirty mind.

"I want your protection, not your virginity, bastard!" he barks.

Oh.

I fight down a flush, but feel it creep up my neck despite my efforts.

"What use do you have for my protection?" You being the big bad Slytherin.

"I need it from the big bad Slytherin's father." He does that too often for it to be coincidence. It's really creepy, like he truly is reading my mind.

Malfoy, I realize. What made him stoop down to my level?

"So, we'll meet to study to avoid my common room. Some place. I'll owl you notes for when. Besides, you're a geek and a prefect and people will just think McGonagall or some other bitch made you study with me and you get your info. Fair? Fair." Fair? Slytherin, fair? They don't go together.

I eye him skeptically. This babbling idiot is the same jerk that terrorized the school for over five years?

"Who are you and what have you done with Marcus?" Lame, but to the point. At least I think it is.

"I am Marcus," he growls defensively.

"Marcus would never ask for help, especially from me."

He stares at me, face carefully blank, before taking off, calling "I'll owl" over his shoulder.

I don't like this.

~*~

"Ah, Mr. Weasley," Professor McGonagall greets me as I enter her classroom. I'm as nervous as I've ever been.

"Hullo," I greet quietly, sitting down at a desk in the font as she gets up from hers.

"There is something Professor Dumbledore forgot to mention and that was your animal." What does that mean?

"I – I don't have an animal." I knit my brow.

"What animal are you able to communicate with," she clarifies.

"All of them… why?" That isn't common in this 'talent'?

"So that is why he neglected to tell me. Albus, you will never loose your edge."

"Ma'am, are you saying that it is common to bond with only one animal?"

Professor McGonagall nods. "You're clever, Mr. Weasley, I never doubted you."

"You're a cat?" It would make sense; Mrs. Norris hangs around her room more than the rest of the school.

"Correct, I am. T – Thomas – is a snake and your brother - " What else could he be?

"Is a dragon," I finish. Oh! That was rude. I shouldn't have said that.

"Very good." She's not angry. Good. "Now that we've finished the pleasantries, shall we continue with the lesson?" She's not angry, just minorly irked.

"Yes, ma'am." I open my notebook, eager to make up for my impudence.

"No, no. I'm afraid notes won't help you much in this subject, only focus and practice."

"Yes, ma'am." I don't think I will be good at this, there's nothing to know, just do.

~*~

"Mrs. Norris?"

"Filch's cat?"

"That demon beast?"

"He told it to eat Finch-Fletchley!"

"Mrs. Norris?"

"Giant snake?"

I scoff at my plate. Do these people know how to do anything more than gossip?

"Who?"

"Potter! Can you believe it?! He's evil! Attacked both Finch-Fletchley and Filch's cat!"

Apparently not.

"How?!"

"He's a parselmouth!"

"Oh no!"

"You-Know-Who was one, you know!"

"Oh Merlin!"

The buzz of gossip has made me lose the appetite I never had. I excuse myself from the Great Hall, returning to the common room. There I am surprised to find Harry staring blankly at the fire.

"Harry?" I venture. As a prefect, it is my job to look after my house… As a friend… that would never be mutual, so I won't even bother thinking about it.

He casts me a mournful glance before returning to watch the fire.

"Are you here to ridicule me too? To take points for it?" he asks finally, gravely, still feeling the weight of my eyes.

"No," I state. "But I would like to know if the rumors are true."

"That I tried to kill a Hufflepuff? Yeah. They're true." He couldn't possibly be bitterer.

"So, you are a parselmouth?"

"Yeah," he says angrily. "I'm a freak!"

"No, not a freak, Harry. It took me sixteen years to figure that one out." I sit down next to him.

"How can you say that?" he demands hotly. "Voldemort – " I wince " – was a parselmouth!"

"You're not You-Know-Who," I try. "And you're not a freak."

"I am," he grouses.

"Hedwig will make you feel better," I nod, not quite sure. I concentrate my entire mind as Professor McGonagall has taught me, grasping Hedwig's sapphire mind gently with my own, asking her to cheer up Harry. She agrees.

"What do you mean?" Harry shakes his head; I've puzzled him.

"Will she?" I press half-mindedly. That's not even a word.

"I don't understand," he shakes his head again.

The portrait hole swings open and an owl flies through.

It isn't Hedwig; it's Hermes. It makes sense; I'm closer to Hermes than Hedwig but still disappointing.

"I was close," I try a meek smile as she lands on my shoulder.

"Th – that's your owl," he states, stunned. People tend to state the obvious when in disbelief.

"Yeah. Hermes, why don't you go cheer up Harry, he's depressed."

Hermes turns to Harry and cocks her head.

Him? Seem it to be.

"Go on," I urge.

Try.

Hermes hops onto Harry's shoulder nibbling on his earlobe.

"Where did you learn that?" he whispers around the fussing owl.

"I am a prefect, you know. I have to know these things." He expects me to be pompous, but even to my ears that sounds conceited.

Harry looks at me dubiously.

"I was born with it, just like you were born with parseltongue."

I'm vaguely aware of Harry studying me as I stare into the fire.

"You're human," he blurts, awed.

"I do have friends, you know," I gaze at him over the rims of my glasses. Three of them, but they are good friends.

"It's just I – not at home." Considering all he's seen are Fred, George, and Ron, not accounting for the brief glimpses of Ginny. He doesn't know about Bill or Charlie – who has yet to respond to my letter, but did receive it because Hermes has returned. I do get along with Charlie… a bit.

Yes, Harry is right.

"No, not at home," I reply quietly. "But, if I'm not mistaken, neither do you." Why else would the twins steal Father's car to liberate him from his uncaring Muggle blood relatives? Not his family. No, anyone who locks you in a cupboard is not family, even if the same blood courses through your veins.

~*~

"I'm sorry that I'm late, Penny," I apologize hastily.

She smiles at me as if to say everything is all right and means nothing is.

"Percy," she cups my face lovingly in her hands. "I'm next."

"No, Penny. Don't say such things. You're not going to be petrified; I'll protect you." An empty promise, but it makes her feel better. I can't protect her from this nameless foe attacking Muggle-born and – however Mrs. Norris is involved.

"I trust you." I wish you wouldn't. "You wouldn't break a promise."

Guilt.

She reaches to kiss me and I oblige, wanting to forget about her blind faith, bending her backwards over a desk, digging my hands into her soft curls.

"P-Percy?!" A squeak from the doorway of our abandoned classroom.

I tear away from her mouth and Ginny is standing in the doorway, dumbstruck. I can feel a flush slinking up my neck.

"Ginny," I choke, my voice deeper than normal. "Please don't - " Her eyes bug out even more before she bolts " – run away."

"Go after her," Penny persuades.

"Do you mind?" I ask, worried.

"Yes, but your sister is important to you and she needs you." I don't believe that, but I don't want Ginny to go around telling people, so I follow Penny's female logic.

I find her again down by the pitch, watching the Hufflepuff practice.

"Ginny?"

"How long, Percy?" She doesn't take her eyes from the practice.

"Last year, almost seven months," I admit.

"I won't tell anyone." That's a lie; she'll tell the next available person.

"Thank you."

Seven months of secrecy for nothing.

~*~*~

TBC?

Thanks for reviewing! Yes, all four of you! ^_^'

Immortaljedi: Thanks. Unfortunately, I have, but what can ya do.

Indus: Well, my friend thought it was, so I had to clarify.

Jen: Is this soon enough or should I work quicker?

Elske: Your innocent looks do not fool me! I can clearly see that threatening mallet behind your back!