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

Indicates the voices in Percy's head… rather his recalling past dialogue

Superstars and Cannonballs

My world came crashing down around me when Penny was petrified. I was with her scant minutes before. It was my fault, of course. I wasn't there to help her, to save her, to keep my unkeepable promise.

The twins have become harsher dishing out insults and more liberal with their taunting about Oliver.

And Ginny has become more and more reclusive, upsetting me to no end.

"Focus, Weasley." It takes me a few seconds to realize that I had said that.

And then there was Marcus. The creep was actually serious about the trade. We now meet about three times a week in the library, although his Ginny updates don't quite cut it.

I think – know – I've received the short end of the stick: Marcus doesn't socialize with his 'acquaintances' as I give up my time to get a limited amount of information.

On the lighter side, my private lessons are the highlight of my day, the best three hours. In my lackluster life, I have that class to look forward to. It helps me gain focus and patience that I can apply to anything (mostly my studying with Marcus). I can't explain, really, why I like the class, it is a bone deep emotion. Like an attraction to Defense Against the Dark Arts and a hatred toward Divination.

"What's that dumbass grin for, Weasely?" Marcus drawls.

"I was thinking," I answer nonchalantly. And it doesn't hurt my head… "It doesn't always make one grimace in pain." Did I just say THAT?!

He regards me wryly, but other than that, he ignores my uninhibited comment. Over the year we have come to a mutual agreement: insults will fly but mean nothing in the library, we actually pretend to tolerate each other. Elsewhere is a different matter. I can almost be myself.

Merlin! Does that mean we're friends?

With Marcus? I don't care that he's a Slytherin, it's just that I can't even befriend my younger brothers and here comes a Slytherin. Rather ironic.

But no, we're not friends. Never.

"It's almost eight," he observes. Closing time for the library.

I glance at my watch. "So it is," I reply absentmindedly, continuing with my essay.

"I'll be going…" He's hesitant again. I've learned not to trust him at those times.

"You do that." My tone hardens.

"Percy?"

"Hm?"

"Umm… I was wondering…" he trails off.

"You're hesitant," I snap. Like he needs a reminder.

"Never mind!" he shouts, obviously forgetting we are in the library. Great, I've enraged him. I can almost roll my eyes at that.

Marcus seizes up the front of my robes, pulling me to my feet, spilling my writing utensils, so that we are eye to eye.

I narrow my eyes in annoyance. He's going to strike me. Just like second year.

"Marcus," I warn. I'm not sure I have the bravery to back that warning up.

Instead of punching me, he pulls me to him roughly. And kisses me. Tries to at least. With reflexes learned from living with my family, namely the twins, I shove at him and twist my head before his lips make contact. Thank Merlin.

No. Not a friend.

I struggle, knocking my glasses askew on his nose. The pads dig into the bridge of my nose painfully.

He only pulls harder. It's futile to put up a fight; I'll only end up doing more damage to myself than him. I opt for not responding, violently or no, relaxing my body.

Marcus realizes I've stopped struggling and releases my robes from his fist, casually fleeing the library, leaving his books behind.

I'm not even going to think about it. I shake my head, collecting my books along with his.

No. Not even going to start.

~*~

"Percy!" Oliver practically jumps on me as I return to the common room. "Where have you been?!"

"It's Tuesday, Oliver," I remind him, prying him from my shoulders. Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday I spend in the library with Marcus.

"Oh," he realizes. "Off with Troll Boy." Such a fitting pet name. Pet name? No, it's just the almost-snog that's getting to me.

I sniff.

"What happened?" he orders.

I look around the common room; Fred and George are now fixated on our conversation. "Nothing."

"Percy," Oliver chides. "I know you better than that, what happened?"

"Later." Not in front of all these people.

Oliver gives me a determined look before shoving me up to our dorm and locking the door behind him.

"The twins will think – " I protest.

"I don't care what the twins think and neither should you," he says solidly.

I lower my eyes.

"Well?"

"He…" How to say this… "Well, he tried to steal a snog."

"He what?!" Oliver roars, unlocking the door and storming out. "I'll kill him!"

"Oliver!" I call, running after him.

The entire common room grows silent as Oliver charges through and rushes on into the hallway shouting, "I'll kill him! I'll kill him!"

I manage to catch up with him just outside the common room.

"No, Oliver."

We stand glaring at each other for an eternity before Oliver speaks up,

"Was it consensual?" Consensual? The thought never crossed my mind, but now that he's brought it up…

"I – I'm not sure," I say timidly. What is Penny going to say when she finds out –

"You're not sure!" he explodes. "You're not sure if you said 'Yes, Marcus, you may take my mouth in yours'?!" I won't tell her if she's going to react like this.

"You're making much too big a deal out of this," I comment condescendingly.

"You're the one not taking this to what it should be! You're saying that you enjoyed that snog?!" he continues to bellow. "That you'd let him do that again?!"

Well, umm… maybe? It was interestingly exhilarating. Oh Merlin, Penny must never find out.

"Good God," Oliver moans, leaning against the wall, defeated. "You can't be serious!"

"I don't know," I reply earnestly. "Not now anyway. There are a lot of considerations to take into account."

"Like what? That he's Slyhterin? That he's a he? What about Penny?"

"All of them. Oliver, please don't tell her. It was a mistake and it won't happen again…" While I'm with her. Why do I always feel the need to explain my life with Oliver?

"I won't," he says coldly.

"Thank you. I'll tell her on my time."

"Oh."

"Are you done with your tirade?" I raise my eyebrows.

"Verbal? Yes," he nods.

"Good, now go back to the common room and apologize," I order.

"Yes'ir!" Oliver mock-salutes. "Yes'ir, mum, sir!"

I roll my eyes disapprovingly to keep myself from laughing.

~*~

Eventually time passes, as it often does, and things return to a state of relative normalcy. Harry has sorted everything out as the wizarding community had expected, but what they didn't expect was for Ron to help him. Lockhart lost his memory and is now in the Minestry's care. All those petrified are now back to living and breathing, Penny among them. (I have yet to tell her about the Marcus incident.) And best of all, Ginny is back to normal.

"Mr. Weasley," Professor McGonagall calls out as I was leaving her class for the day. "Professor Dumbledore wishes to speak with you in his office."

"Yes, ma'am." I reply politely.

She accompanies me to his office and lets me in before departing. I would love to know how Professor Dumbledore comes up with these passwords. Last time it was 'Milky Mint' and this time it's 'Gooseberry pie'.

"Ah, Mr. Weasley," Professor Dumbledore greets me. "I see that you have made progress in your private lessons."

Please be talking about the lessons with Professor McGonagall and not the ones with Marcus.

"Not much," I admit shyly, "but it's enough."

"Modesty," he reflects. "Don't see much of that now a days, do we?" That jovial glint is back and I have no clue how to respond. I'm not modest in the least. I boast about all of my achievements to anyone who'll listen – which is a grand total of three, but I try and that must count for something.

"Professor McGonagall said you wished to see me?" I venture.

"Yes, that, Mr. Weasley. I was wondering if, next year you would be interested in mastering the animagus transformation?"

"Sir?" Only a few are chosen for this; it's a great honor.

No one in my family was ever chosen – and accepted the honor – so I would be the first… To be followed by Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny. But I take what I can get.

"You do not have to decide now – "

"I'd love to, sir," I interrupt softly. "But sir, I don't know what – "

"You are the exception to the rule, Mr. Weasley, you don't have the opportunity to decide."

"Sir?" Riddles are definitely his specialty.

"You are able to master any transformation you wish, provided you inform the Minestry of your ability."

"Thank you sir." That's the only thing I can think to say. This is so important that it couldn't be written in the summer letter. This is amazing! Wicked even. Possibly the best thing that's ever happened to me.

"Professor McGonagall will be teaching you next year."

I grin despite myself. "Thank you very much, sir!" I enthuse.

"Now, there is one condition." There always is a catch, making the outcome completely inconsequential, cons outweighing the pros. There goes my chance. "You must receive and excellent mark on your NEWT's." That's all?

"I shall try, sir," I reply gloomily. That wasn't as bad as I thought, but it's still up there near impossible.

"Your modesty has been refreshing," he smiles. There's something unsettling and creepy about that smile. "And for future references, don't be so harsh on yourself."

I blush in both shame and embarrassment.

"Yes, sir."

*~*

"Hello, Alanna," he greeted softly. He had just returned from Romania and she was his first stop. "I was made a prefect," he stated proudly.

"Amazing!" She studied him closely. "What's wrong?"

"Scabbers," he replied glumly.

"Is he ill?" she wondered.

"I don't think so." His brow furrowed. "I can't talk to him." Realizing that made no sense, he elaborated. "I mean, I can talk to him, he just won't respond; I can't hear his thoughts. It's weird, I even get queasy when I try, like his mind is human."

"That is strange," she responded thoughtfully. "Has this ever happened with any other creature?"

"No," he admitted quietly, shaking his head.

"Well, don't worry too much about it." She attempted to smile. "He might be a fluke. However, I don't think that you should be this upset over a rat." She gave him a reproachful look.

"I don't know what you mean," he said sourly.

"Percival," she warned.

"You sound like mum when she's after the twins," he wrinkled his nose.

"Well?" She ignored his weak attempt to change the subject.

"Oliver outed me," he replied grudgingly.

"'Outed' you?"

"He found out about my secret."

"No offence, honey, but you have several secrets."

"Oh, sorry, Alanna, about being what you call a 'Wild Mage.'"

"To whom?"

"My Care of Magical Creatures class," he sighed. "Although Professor Kettleburn was thrilled, so were the Slytherins, but for a different reason."

"I'm sure that it will all blow over," she assured.

"When I'm fifty," he muttered darkly.

*~*

The train ride back to London was uneventful and nothing happened of the slightest importance. I sat with the prefects, but conversed briefly with Oliver, Penny, and Hermes. Avoiding Marcus. Everything was relatively calm when we left Kings Cross. However, the twins were on my case about Penny the entire ride back to the Burrow.

"I heard you –"

"When did this happen – "

"What about Oliver –"

"Maybe he joins in – "

"How far have you gotten –"

I was trying to ignore them when that question came up, but it's rather difficult to ignore someone – two someones – when blushing furiously.

Thankfully, the Burrow rolls in sight, and so does Charlie, waiting on the gate. I'd almost forgotten about that factor. Almost.

I slowly get out of the car. The twins are still asking me questions, but I'm totally focused on Charlie.

"Leave him alone." He sets his steely gaze to each in turn.

Fred and George back off leaving me to deal with my elder brother.

"Charlie," I regard sharply.

"Percy," he returns coolly. "I believe you wish to speak about something?"

"Yes," I reply stiffly.

"Let's go for a walk," he suggests.

"Fine." It's away from people, twins especially.

We spend a mile in silence; Charlie digging his hands into his pockets, waiting for me, and I look everywhere but my brother next to me.

"I hear from Fred and George you have a girlfriend, is that true? Or is their story about having a boyfriend true?"

I pale.

"Girlfriend or boyfriend?"

"Girlfriend…" I don't want to talk about this. "Charlie! Why didn't you tell me? You laughed with them."

He sighs, digging his hands deeper. "I know."

"Is that all you have to say for yourself?" I demand.

"No."

"Then?" I prompt.

"You have someone to understand you," he explains. "You have Oliver. You have your girlfriend…" he gropes for her name.

"Penny," I supply coldly. Who doesn't know about this.

"Penny," he nods. "I didn't have anyone to understand. To explain things to me. Sure, Professor McGonagall helped, but to be truthful, I had no idea what was going on myself – "

"That's damn selfish, Charlie." He didn't have anyone, so I couldn't. "You laughed at me."

"You're not getting past the laughing part, are you?"

"No. I'm not. Ever since I've been born I've been the black sheep of this family. Would it have killed you to spare me the ridicule of something I couldn't help? Have you ever – " I finally look up into his – aqua? Eyes? "You have aqua eyes!"

"Yes, I do," he frowns.

"Never mind," I say quickly. "Have you ever been the butt of everyone's practical jokes just because of this rare 'gift'?"

"You don't sound angry, you know, just like your letter."

"What do you mean!" I growl. I don't like mind games. So much for psychology.

"You sound desperate."

I freeze. I'm not desperate. Not about anything.

Just like I'm not in denial. Why can't I just lie to myself?

I sigh heavily.

"Now, back to your eye color outburst," he says firmly. "I assume Professor McGonagall told you about it." I shake my head to his question and to clear my thoughts. It doesn't work. "Riddle had – has – ruby eyes – he's a snake. McGonagall has amber eyes – she's a cat. I have aqua eyes – I'm a dragon," he counts them off on his fingers. "And you have amethyst eyes… And you're what? They wouldn't tell me." They who?

"Anything," I glare, unforgiving of that desperate comment, no matter now how true it is. "What does – "

"Wow. No wonder they didn't tell me… You're whatever you choose to be – you have amethyst eyes… At least you have a choice, Perce. At least you can do whatever you want with your life and aren't force to give up on your dream because your life was predestined, tied to one creature."

He gave up quidditch to deal with dragons… no wonder he was so nimble, he was built like his animal.

"Enough with the pity party," I interrupt. "Answer the original question. Please!"

"You're right," Charlie reflects bitterly. "You've done enough of that for the both of us."

"Am I that horrible of a person?" I ask miserably, running a hand through my hair.

"No, I'm that horrible of a brother," he assures. "The reason I didn't tell you was because I wasn't allowed to. I wasn't permitted to even hint at the power you have inside you. Do you know how bad I wanted to tell you what you were capable of?" Now he's the one that sounds desperate. This isn't happening. I don't have the power he's speaking of… but he laughed.

"You – wanted to tell me? Then why did you laugh?"

"Well, it was humourous to see that dragon toddling after you, thinking you were his mum." He smiles, but I don't see anything amusing about it. "C'mon, Perce, it's all right to smile, to laugh. Just because someone is laughing at something you've done, doesn't mean they're laughing at you. And you were what, eight years old? By, Merlin, Percy, anyone who laughs at you is too daft to recognize the power you possess. Like the… twins."

"I'm not powerful," I protest. "Not powerful at all."

"Believe me, Perce, you are. You know the animal chooses the person, right? So, how many wizards in the world are capable of transforming into whatever animal they fancy and are able to communicate with whatever animal they fancy?" Before I can get a word in edge-wise, he barrels on. "None, Percy, none. You're the only one in the world – "

"So I really am a freak."

"No, Percy, let me talk now, feel sorry for yourself later." Well, grr. "Four in Europe. Three in North America. Four in Africa. Two in Australia. Four in Asia." He ticks the continents on his fingers. "That's seventeen in the entire world with our talent! 2/17ths are here right now." I am capable of simple arithmetic, Charlie. "I've done research, even met some of these people. Of them, you are the only one with the power, the aura, the whatever, to do that.

"There's a reason that they're so hush-hush about this, you know. They told me that at least. We are, basically a secret weapon. For, Merlin forbid, the second battle against You-Know-Who. He's not gone, Percy, and we're going to have to fight against him. With your power, after training, we shouldn't have a problem."

I flush, but still protest. "Charlie, I don't – "

"Percy," he says in a firm, no nonsense tone. "You need to learn when to shut your mouth and when to open it."

I open my mouth to protest again.

"Now would be a time to shut it. I've won fair and square." As opposed to fair and round?

"Don't be so smug about it," I grumble, knowing he's right enough that I can't argue my way out.

"Friends?" Charlie extends his hand.

"I suppose," I agree, taking his hand and shaking.

"Wanna get even with the twins?" he offers, his aqua eyes glinting mischievously.

I grin.

*~*

"Hello, Alanna," he greeted. "How have you been?"

"You don't have to be so formal, you know," she replied tartly. "You've known me for too long to get all formal on me now."

He tried to smile. "Well?"

"Something wonderful happened: what is it?" she stated bluntly.

"I'm getting training for my animagi talent."

"That's wonderful. It's about time." Her smile faded as he frowned. "Charlie is the same as I am, in a way."

"I know."

"You know!"

"Of course. I'm sure you remember how Charlie reacted when you brought home that dragon." How could he forget? "He thought it was the best thing in the whole world. He went on about it for weeks afterward."

"He didn't tell me." He sounded sulky even to himself.

"Of course not, honey, he told Daine – my friend, the portrait in his room – how he wanted to talk to you, but to quote him it 'was like practicing magic over the summer'. However, that's not all that's bugging you." When did she get to know him so well?

"No." He plopped down on his bed.

"Well then?"

"You remember the Slytherin that kept giving me a hard time for the past six years?" She nodded and he told his tale of blackmail.

"Oh. My. That is interesting," she mused.

"I don't know what to make of it," he confessed.

"Then don't think about it," she suggested. "I know it will be difficult, but try."

"Thanks."

"You'll have a great year next year, I know it."

"If Marcus stays out of my life," he grumbled.

"If you don't think about him," she corrected.

*~*

"What happened?!" Oliver asks, then caught sight of my badge.

"I'm head boy!" I explain enthusiastically.

"Head boy?"

"Don't act so surprised," I scowl, taking a seat on the train.

"Don't frown," Oliver chastises. "It's unbecoming. Head boy, huh?"

I nod. I had spoken to Penny about this and she was just as enthusiastic.

"Congrads!" Oliver flings his arms around me.

"Oliver!" I gasp as he expels the air from my lungs.

"What?"

"Can't breath."

"Oh, oops." He releases me. "Sorry."

"You're entitled," I smile sheepishly. "You were just caught up in the moment… But I don't think this was a wise decision."

"Of course it was!" Oliver cries. "How can you say that? How many people get a chance to be head boy?"

How many wizards in the world are capable of transforming into whatever animal they fancy and are able to communicate with whatever animal they fancy?

Go away, Charlie.

"It just gives the twins more fuel," I remind him darkly.

"Percy," he says seriously, "everything gives the twins fuel. Plus, Bill was head boy; they didn't insult him, did they?"

"No, they respect him too much for that. He even eggs them on."

"You're really going to have to talk to them about their behavior."

I'm absolutely scandalized. "No. It hasn't done any good in the past fifteen years, why would it make any difference now." I snort.

"You should have more faith in both yourself and the twins," he intones coolly.

"Can we not talk about this now?" I plead.

"It'll come up again," he warns.

"And I'll wave it off then too."

Oliver eyes me warily. "I'm on to you, Weasley." Which is why he uses my last name.

I bet you are, you would be.

~*~

Marcus doesn't even wait until after the Sorting to approach me; he does so on the train.

Fidgeting madly, he again asks for my tutoring.

I want to decline. How I want to say no, that I owe him nothing. But I'm head boy now and I have responsibilities and an image to keep clean. Especially in front of so many prefects.

"All right," I relent neutrally. "Same time and place."

Marcus all but bows in gratitude.

Into the hand basket.

~*~

We meet in the library that very night.

"Why, Marcus?" I inquire abruptly. He stares blankly at me, so I elaborate. "Why are you continuing?"

"They're plotting something big." I imagine his eyes darting back in forth in paranoia.

"They? Big?" I ask vaguely.

"Malfoy and Montague. And I don't know nor do I want to know."

Coward. "So you're cowering?"

"For someone as vain as yourself, you can really be cruel. You would have made a great Slytherin." I'm not about to inform him I almost was. The Sorting Hat was on my head for five full minutes as I debated with it. I wanted me in Ravenclaw; it wanted me in Slytherin. Eventually we came to the compromise of Gyrffindor, being as my brothers were in that house.

"You know that the answer you gave was incorrect."

"You know nothing about it."

"Nor do I want to know."

"Well, Weasley. At least you can think for yourself," he says snidely. I can't tell if it's sarcasm or self-loathing in his voice.

"Stop the pissing contest," I say curtly.

He glares at me.

"Marcus, I know you're not here by choice, but – "

"What makes you think that?"

"I stop. I don't want to think about that. "Let's study, all right?"

He nods tersely.

~*~

"Oliver, something's not right," I state, collapsing on my bed, exhausted.

"You're telling me! I can't find my other suitcase. Damn house elves." He rummages through the room trying to locate the said missing suitcase.

"Seriously, Oliver, Marcus did it again."

Oliver whirls around to face me. "He kissed you again!!!"

"No, no," I wrinkle my nose habitually. "Study again."

"Did he mention why?" Oliver gives up his search to join me on my bed.

"He let it slip that he was there by choice."

"Gross!" he exclaims, thoroughly disgusted.

"That's one way of putting it. Who would be with me by choice?"

"Oh, no, don't you even think about it." Oliver threatens, " You know what I meant."

"I don't like you." When you're right.

"I know," he beams. "Something's up with that boy, though," he concludes solemnly.

"I don't know how to get it out of him." I glower at the ceiling.

"I know of a way!" Olive announces. I don't trust that. "It involves putting out and everything entirely out of character for you."

"I dislike it already," I frown.

"Don't you wanna mess with Flint's mind?"

"From our study sessions, I've come to the conclusion that it isn't really that difficult." It truly isn't. Of course sometimes I take off in an entirely different language than Latin or English.

"Wouldn't surprise me," he replies thoughtfully. "Are you for it?"

"I don't know, Oliver… It depends on how big of an irritation he becomes."

"So, you'll do it?" he asks hopefully.

"I refuse to answer until you state the guidelines."

"No fun," Oliver pouts. Actually pouts!

"I try. If it doesn't involve anything sexual, I'll consider it." Knowing Oliver, it probably is.

"Well, then. I'd better find that suitcase now," Oliver hums innocently.

"Get your mind out of the gutter!" I all but shout. Yuck accurately sums up every thought.

"You're no fun," he sulks.

"I know," I glare at him." Why do you think that that will help?" I just have to know.

"Dunno, he just seems like that type of person."

Oliver again gives up on his search.

"What type of person?" I'm not sure I want an answer.

"Wants something then freaks when he gets it," he shrugs. He… wants me? Does not compute. At all.

It may be worth a try…

Merlin! What am I thinking! Think with your head, not your dick, Percy! Think of Penny!

"Well, are you going to think about it?" he presses.

I snort.

"Is that a yes or a no?" He just doesn't know when - or how – to stop.

I snort again.

"I'm so glad you like my ideas!" he beams.

Why am I even thinking about considering this?!

~*~*~*~*~*~

Ack! I've completely ruined it!

Sorry about that last little scene, but hey, he's a seventeen-year-old boy and they usually think along those lines.

Next chapter contains Lupin. I've got the first five and a half chapters written out and waiting to be typed. Aren't you just so lucky?

Thanks for responding!

Leopardskinqueen: Isn't Percy just adorable when he's so insecure? ^^

Elske: No longer hiding that mallet, I see. I don't really see Penny as an evil bitch, I mean; she's with Percy so she can't be all that bad. Of course that can also go the other way, she's a bitch because she's with Percy.

Jen: I'm trying. But, hey, Charlie did respond in this chapter.

Cairnsy: Thank you very much! (Don't worry; I'm just as lazy… of course that might be cause for some worry on your part…) As for being a tease, that's what I do best. Now, Brad and Ken… I don't really know of any others, except one, but I forgot where I found it, so it doesn't really help.

Thanks again to everyone who reviewed!

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