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/Marcus, finally!
Contents: Angst, Slash, POV
Spoilers: Yup. Books 2 and up.
Summary: Percy may be a freak, but that's not always a bad thing. That, I think, is the worse summary I've ever come up with.
Status: Incomplete
A/N: Only a couple more chapters. And the next one includes the first kiss. Finally. (But the chapter as a whole is short. Sorry.)

*~* Indicates time change

~*~ Indicates scene change

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

"She's in there," Marcus points at the door to the infirmary. He then turns on his heel and leaves.

The door, on the other hand, hasn't moved and, for all intents and purposes, won't.

Swallowing my fear, I push the door open.

Ginny is tending a dead man I don't recognize.

I'm glad I don't recognize him.

I can't handle this now.

I turn on my heel and run away before she sees me.

I make it as far as the door. Marcus is leaning against the frame, pointing back to Ginny, a condescending expression on his face.

I slump my shoulders and return.

A defying lump forms at the base of my throat. I dismiss it along with the hollowness in my chest.

"Ginny?" I whisper hoarsely.

She looks up from the man, eyes hollow. Not a good psychological sign. Not that I know much about psychology.

"Percy," she returns slowly.

"How - " I cut myself off rather than place my foot in my mouth. How are you, indeed. "How can I help?"

Better.

"It's ok, I'm almost done." She scurries back and forth, putting things away.

I glance at the dead man nervously. The hollowness in my chest expands.

"Would you like to go down and join me - " for dinner, once you're done with the dead man "for some tea?" It will settle your stomach and my nerves.

"Of course," she accepts politely, smiling. It fades into a frown, "Are you cold?"

"No," I blink. But now that she mentions it, yes, I am. I fight a shiver.

"Your lips are blue."

"I'm sure."

"You're lying, but tea will warm you up."

When did the Ginny I knew disappear and leave this cold husk?

About the time Ron acquired glasses and Bill lost his magic.

*~*

"Alanna, I still am having trouble dealing with people," he confessed.

"What is exactly the problem?" She looked at him with a scrutinizing gaze.

"I – I can't – well, that is," he tried to form the words. "I don't know."

"There is only so much I can do," she snapped. "The rest is up to you, if you can't do it at first, try it again. People will either understand or not. You can't change that."

"Wait… what are you talking about?" He questioned shyly.

"Life and living it," she explained hastily.

She had never been this frank or short-tempered before. Or maybe he just hadn't noticed it.

*~*

"You possess the Jewel, don't you?" she states boldly, draining her cup of tea.

I choke on my mouthful, spilling it back into its cup and coughing tea from my lungs.

"What makes you say that?" I wheeze.

"You're different. Just as dense, but different," she says quietly as if she herself didn't know.

Hey! I'm not dense! Only Bill and I were Prefects. Not –

"You've changed as well. That - "

"Is why you're here," she interrupts dully. "Is it too much to handle? I'm growing up. Everyone does – with the exception of George and Fred, and I think after this they will." She finishes bitterly.

"When was the last time you were among friends? Or outside?" I sound too much like Oliver. Maybe he shouldn't've cared so much.

"Yesterday," she clips. She sounds too much like me. Maybe I should have cared more.

"That is exactly what I said when I was exactly – well, a year older than you are. And guess what: I was wrong. I need people." Merlin, I can't believe I just said that.

"I'm not you." She's becoming angry.

"You're right. You're not, but you're so sodding human it hurts," I bite back.

"Percy?" Her tone has completely changed; she's concerned. "Your face is red but your lips are still blue."

"I'm just fine." I'm still cold. "It's nothing. You're my main - "

~*~

Marcus is looming above me, scowling.

I did it again.

"Why?" I croak. I'm warm, but still hollow. I clear my throat. "Why did that happen? This should not have happened again."

Ginny peers over Marcus' shoulder worriedly.

"Let me in," he orders.

My mind? But – "I don't know how."

"Let. Me. In," he roars.

"G - " Go ahead.

He clasps tightly on my shoulders, nods to Ginny, and then the pressure in my sinuses is back. I assume that's Marcus' presence. Odd how he has wanted to be on top and inside of me for some time. Oh the bitter irony. Its not bad, not that I'd ever say that –

Your lack of common sense astounds me, Percy, he chuckles into my mind.

The pressure disappears with a pop.

Marcus releases my shoulders, cursing colorfully under his breath – into my ear.

"Weasley, I'm going to escort your brother to his rooms and tend to him. Please inform Charlie of this."

Ginny nods.

He then scoops me up and carries me, undignifiedly, out.

~*~

"It was the Jewel," he explains, pacing the room. "It was a warning."

He brought me to, I'm assuming, my guest room, and unceremoniously plopped me down on the single bed. There are two doors on either side of the room, assumedly leading to Marcus' and Roger's room, respectively.

And he's pacing.

"A warning?" I question, struggling to get up, and it doesn't work. "Stop pacing!"

"Something is killing the actual land – I'd put money on a dark creature, sucking the life out of – "

"Dementor."

"Hmm?"

"Only a dementor could do that."

"That would make sense," he muses.

"So, by killing the land, it's killing me?"

Silence.

"Marcus?"

"In theory."

I bury my face in my hands.

"You need to activate that Jewel, utilize it to save yourself and our side and – "

"Marcus, stop. I understand. I want me to die just as much as you do." What ever happened to that cruel bastard?

"He did something very daft and fell in love."

Can he still read my – Dear Merlin. He just… Dear Merlin.

"I need to inform Dumbledore," he announces and leaves hurriedly.

I never thought I'd see the day when Marcus runs away.

~*~

I am finally able to get up once Marcus bolts, so I explore. Not much else to do. I was right though, my room is between Marcus' and Roger's. Neither is here. Well, Marcus just ran off, but I have no idea where Roger is. My belongings, of sorts, are here, still left over from Nepal.

The drawers in my nightstand yield nothing but potion bottles, thankfully labeled. I'm going to make use of the Sleeping Draught tonight.

The door creaks open, and I guiltily slam the drawer.

"Just me, Weasley, don't go into cardiac arrest."

"Sorry, Roger," I mumble.

"What was with Flint? He past me in the hallway looking almost green… You didn't hex him, did you?" He asks oddly, looking at me intently.

"No? …How did… No."

"Just checking." He wanders into his own room. I think that's his room.

"Did you find out about Oliver?" I inquire quickly, following him.

"No," he answers, not unkindly.

"We'll find him and bring him back – " hopefully " – alive."

"I don't doubt that too much."

Uncomfortable silence.

He breaks it.

"What did happen to Flint?" He sits at the edge of his bed.

"He told me… classified information."

"That's very un-Flint-like… I told him not to," he mutters to himself. I don't think I'm supposed to hear that.

"Do you two – Are you two friends?" I scrunch my nose.

"Well, we were both captains, one chaser, one beater. I found out his little talent then. Him anticipating my moves was a bit of a give-away."

*~*

"Ya must be Percy," the strange man in Alanna's frame said. "She's told me a lot about ya."

"Yes, I'm Percy," he said at length. "She's been offering social help."

The man choked on his laughter. "Ya can't be serious!"

Percy looked affronted. "Of course."

"Alanna's the last person ya should ask for social help."

"She's been a great help," Percy countered.

The man outright laughed. "She hates parties, she has a temper worse than any god, and she's an accomplished liar."

"It's not true!" he cried. "How would you know!"

"I'm her husband." He bowed. "George of the Pirate's Swoop at your service."

"I've learned not to trust anyone with that name," Percy glowered.

"George what are you – " Alanna came onto the canvas. "Oh, hello, Percy."

Percy looked at her betrayed.

"What did he mean by 'accomplished liar'," he asked slowly.

Alanna's violet eyes blazed. "I posed as a boy for years to earn my shield, you know that. You should also know that George is not exactly trustworthy himself, being the King of Thieves."

Percy's head started swimming.

"I won't ask next time."

*~*

"Let me see if I have this." Roger nods. "You've been friends with Marcus since school and you've also been helping him with… me? Haven't you?"

Roger nods.

"And as a payment, he gave you Oliver?"

Roger nods again.

"How long ago was that?"

"My fifth year. On the train ride home."

"Are you sure you weren't misplaced in Ravenclaw? That sounds Slytherin to me."

"Ravenclaw's are actually more vicious than Slytherin, we're just quieter."

I'm impressed.

"And how long have you been with Oliver?"

"Train ride going into sixth year." Wasn't it my seventh year that Oliver and Cedric interrupted Marcus' and my studying? That would make it Roger's sixth year…

"What about Cedric?"

Roger purses his lips.

"You knew," I accuse.

"Yes. I knew," he swallows hard.

That's what Oliver was so upset about in the locker room.

I never told him.

"Do you regret it?"

"I regret many things," he snarls.

I stand abruptly. Placing the phial of Sleeping Draught I swiped from the drawer on his bed stand. "I'll be going off to bed."

"What's this?" he dares, picking up the phial disdainfully between his thumb and forefinger.

"Sleeping Draught. I'm taking one too. You need to rest in order to face the Ministry tomorrow," I force a smile.

He doesn't even try.

~*~

The door slams shut.

"Marcus?"

He looks defiantly into my eyes.

"You're right. Dementors. In Kent. It's a dead zone. It's a bloody good thing you were too stubborn to go home." He runs a hand through his hair.

"What – "

"Oliver's in Kent too."

Shite.

"Your flat."

"You can't be serious!" I blurt out.

"Why would I lie?" he asks, perplexed.

"You have before," I remind him, not so gently.

"So I have… but this part is true – You gave Davies a Sleeping Draught?"

"…Yeah…"

"Good, he needed it. Plus we can talk without him hearing us."

I eye him cautiously.

"About Oliver."

"And the permanence of that mind trick," I challenge.

"That too," he agrees. "I need to reapply that charm. When you let me in, the wall crumbled."

He points his wand at me… and hands it to me… Oh that's my wand.

I snatch it from him.

Oh, how I have missed you, dear wand.

He raises his eyebrows.

"The mind thing?" I prompt.

He points his wand at me and mutters again.

The pressure is there and gone just like before.

"Will this have to be done every time I open up to you?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

"Yes, oh," he mocks.

"And Oliver?" I change to subject quickly.

"Is in need of being rescued," Marcus nods.

"How do you plan on doing that?" I ask incredulously.

He looks at me with a lecherous grin.

"No," I tell him sternly. I have enough problems with Oliver I don't want to add botched rescue to it.

"Well, we're going to anyway, but not until I consult your youngest brother."

"Ron?"

"No, your other youngest brother," he rolls his eyes. "I swear to God, you get thicker with every sentence."

"Become," I correct automatically.

"What?"

"I become thicker, I don't 'get' thicker," I explain.

He groans in annoyance. "Stop being so obtuse… No, I forgot, that's impossible for you."

Ouch.

"So when will you know more about this rescue party I'm to be in?" I return the conversation back on course.

"By tomorrow evening at the latest. So go to work and figure out what is going on in the wide world of politics."

I pull a face.

"And you will go with Davies," he eyes me.

"Yes mum, with Roger."

He takes a step closer. "Are you mocking me?" His eyes widen.

"No," I take a step back. "I'm insulting my mother."

He looks quizzically for a moment then laughs wildly.

"You can relax," he whistles. "Good on you." He claps me on the back. "Now take that potion and get to bed."

~*~

"Percy!" My father yelps, hopefully in surprise.

"Hello, father," I offer a weak smile.

Roger and I just wandered into my father's office still unsure of how to do this or, really, what to do.

"Mr. Weasley." Roger nods politely.

Again with the marching in without a plan.

"How did that errand play out?" Father asks uneasily.

"As planned," I reply, hastily adding, "Father, how would you enjoy being Minister?"

Father draws in on himself as Roger hisses at my lack of tact.

I couldn't work it into a conversation.

Slytherin, I'm not. In that aspect.

Father casts a silencing charm and anti-charm to prevent detection.

"Sorry," I amend, the tips of my ears coloring.

"I don't know who she – he, rather, is, but he's good for you," Father states, examining me closely.

"Excuse me?" I sputter.

"That's Flint for you: he worms his way in and won't let go until he wants to," Roger sniggers.

"About the control of the nation," I whine.

"Yes. That," Father mutters. "There is one problem with whomever were to take charge and his name is Malfoy."

"He couldn't possibly hex everyone in the entire Ministry," I reason.

"True, but that won't stop him from killing the new Minister," Roger exhales at length.

"Then Malfoy needs to be removed from the picture," I offer. "In some way he couldn't possibly extract revenge." Yeah. I can state the obvious.

"That is excellent in theory, but there is then the reality of how." Roger worries his upper lip… Oliver always worried his lower lip. I guess they match in some yin-yang, sixty-nine way.

A flush creeps up the back of my neck.

"Amos is retiring next month," Father states. "Percy can take his position and Mr. Davies, you can take Crouch's."

I smile timidly. Since when has my father known so much about me? Wait. Since when had my father known so much about me!

"That leaves the Minister's position," Roger frowns.

"Father?" I turn to him hopefully. "Would you take that honour?"

"With the pride only a Weasley can manage," he bows.

Roger tastefully slips from the room, disrupting the charms, but that can be fixed.

"Father…" I hesitate. "How did you know about the Magical Creature Department?"

"I'm your father, I need to know such things."

"How much do you know?" I ask quickly, instantly wary.

"Calm down, Percy. Your mother and I have known – well, after you gave her that fright with the baby Welsh Green."

"Sorry," I hang my head like an ashamed toddler.

"That and it's in your blood," he continues.

"Excuse me?" I blurt.

"Your genes… Um… you have an ancient allele dating back to Fionn mac Cumhail."

I furrow my brow. "As in the prophet who ate Fintan?"

"The very same."

I need to sit.

Plopping down, I ask how it's possible and if he's sure.

He nods and rubs my shoulder.

"Were you ever – are you - does Charlie have the same thing?" I decide on.

"Not as strong as you, but he does, yes."

"So if – Is there anyone else in the family, not necessarily immediate?"

He hesitates. " No one alive today."

What does that mean?"

"How did they die?" I ask suddenly. Maybe I should think things over before I blurt it out.

"The same way as Fintan," he responds gravely.

A silence settles uncomfortably between us.

"Do be careful," he says at length.

"I try but with – "

"Don't make excuses," Father tells me firmly. "Take care of yourself and don't rely on others to save you, do so yourself." He pauses and a puzzled expression clouds over his face. "That was your mother speaking… But do take care."

He embraces me.

"I will, Minister, and you take care of yourself."

He smiles. "Don't worry, descendant of Fionn mac Cumhail … I believe you have a speech to give the nation regarding their new Minister. We also need to discuss protection charms and not just for my life."

And there goes the Full-Body Blush.

~*~*~

TBC!

Thank you to Mireille and Rogue for info on Roger's quidditch position.

Fintan and Fionn mac Cumhail (too many ways of spelling that -_-') are from Celtic Myth. Fintan was the Salmon of Knowledge because he had eaten the hazelnuts of the gods and received all knowledge. He was also a shape shifter, surviving Noah's flood by swimming and soaring as a fish and hawk respectively (mostly because fish can't soar). For many years Finegas had tried to capture the Fintan, to eat him and gain his wisdom. Finegas finally managed to capture Fintan in the pool of Linn Fèic, and gave it to Fionn to cook for him. Under the threat of death Fionn was not allowed to eat the salmon, however while he was roasting it he accidentally burnt his thumb, automatically sucked on it to ease the pain, and gained all the knowledge that he had been seeking in the first place.

That's the short version of the story.

Thank you to all my lovely reviewers!

SparkySparkles: Sorry for the out of order chapters. FF.net has been giving me grief, but it's all sorted out now. As for the first snog… that's definitely in the next chapter.

Shinigami: I've fixed the out of order chapters, so that shouldn't be a problem any more. As for Daine and Alanna, it's a crossover between Harry Potter and Tamora Pierce. They are not, however, relatives of the Weasleys. Percy was modeled after Daine, but his source of power is different, but not by much. Daine's father was Cernunnos, the stag lord, ruler of the underworld and animals (in Celtic lore), where as Percy is distant kin of Fionn.

CatC10: I am very happy! And I'm writing.

Aurora-Shine: Wow. I had no idea I affected people like that. Thank you.

Obijan: Percy and Marcus are finally gonna get together! Yeah! First kiss is in the next chapter. That should make things a lot more interesting. ^_~

lil'kittie: *huggles* That's the last of the boring stuff. Well, there is one more bit towards the end, but in the next chapter is Oliver's rescue, and it's sure to be action packed. Not to mention Percy's first kiss! ^-^ And I usually hate the dull stuff. I put all of the blame on Percy. He just wants to be dull, but can't. Poor kid. I'm sure that he blames Marcus, too. Mmmm… Half naked Oliver…

Lulu-Chan: The reason the thoughts are all jumbled is because Percy's thoughts are all jumbled. The poor dear. Well, the main reason nothing has happened is because Percy was in deep denial, that and he's prude. Another reason is that once the sexual tension is resolved, where would the story go? Don't worry about Percy's thoughts about Olly, Flint already knows. ^^ And no, Ron's secret Slytherin source (try saying that one) is not Draco, believe it or not… although I am rather fond of that 'ship…Ron lets the name slip in the next chapter. Hopefully Oliver's relationship with Roger is a tad clearer now… As for the crazy chapter order, I blame FF.net; it's been screwing around with my chapter order no matter how many times I try to fix it. *sigh*

Kia: How's this for quick?