A Croi Mian

I don't own Percy or Oliver.

Author: Dimitri Aidan

Series: Not related to 'Perfect' in the least.

Warnings: Slash. Fluff. Violence. Homophobic attitudes.

Summery: Years ago Hogwarts was the stage of a great tragedy and now it seems the characters have gathered in the forms of Oliver and Percy. He loved him once...will he again? Or is history doomed to repeat.

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Prelude

The Spell that Didn't Work

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Oliver hated Divination. Truth be told most people with a moderate amount of common sense hated the class, but took it by virtue of a surefire passing grade. Assuming you were twisted enough of course. And, unbeknownst to most, Oliver could be pretty twisted if properly motivated. In fact he was one of Trelawney's favorite students.

He was, as one of the three only Gryffindor Seventh years, the one from his house in Advanced Divinations. He had two Ravenclaws, four Hufflepuffs, and Marcus Flint by way of company. Aside from he and Flint the class was all glassy-eyed females who believed that Trelawney was some kind of great and powerful seer, instead of a total kook. From the Hufflepuffs he could understand that, but he would have thought the Ravenclaws too logical for such things.

"Today we will be combining Hydromancy, old Magicks, and potions to delve into your inner beings." Trelawney clapped her hands with barely contained excitement. "We shall start simple. Open your books to page 113 and get started."

The girls began scurrying about, chattering eagerly as they opened books and filled up 'scrying pans'. He moved at a more subdued pace, far from in a hurry to get started. So what would it be today? Trampled by a rampaging unicorn and gored by its horn, left to bleed out in the middle of a swamp, perhaps.

He kind of liked that one.

He glanced at the page they'd been told to turn to and frowned. This was the typical 'potential for disaster and death' type of project.

A' Croi Fiar Mian is a spell that has its roots in old Celtic and Welsh Magick. It helps the caster see a myriad of things about themselves and what they want from life. It's often shocking for the caster should they not be in tune with who they are, who they were, and who they wish to be. It pays no heed to what the caster thinks they may know, and goes straight to what is.

Oliver frowned slightly. That was going to make faking this assignment kind of tough if he couldn't just concoct a nasty death for himself. Oh well.

He poured the water into his pan then reached for the small vial of oil sitting next to the pitcher. From what he heard the oils had been made in Advanced Seventh Year Potions, so there was an almost guaranteed chance they'd do…something. What exactly Oliver wasn't really qualified to say.

Probably not what they were supposed to do, but that was only because nothing ever worked right in Divinations, not because of the potions class. He knew for a fact Professor Snape took that stuff too seriously to allow anything but perfection.

Which was why he hadn't taken the class.

He poured the oil into the pan and watched with slightly awe as the water shimmered then turned blue.

'That was kind of cool.'

He glanced back to the book and dragged his finger along the chant.

A' Croi Fiar Mian

Taispeain Du Mi

Gu'n Mi Insaigin

Tine, Eigh, Ce, Uisce,

Aerr

Mi larr

Taispeain Mi

A' Croi Fiar Mian

He frowned, kind of wishing he'd paid attention when Percy had attempted to teach him to translate his Gaelic Spells. He could have called forth angry ancient spirits for all he knew and, when he considered his pronunciation skills, it was very much possible.

He turned to the pan and tried to open his 'inner eye' per the books instructions. He stared and…nothing happened. Of course. Either his inner eye was blind or he just had a louse excuse for a teacher. He was leaning towards the latter.

Oh well.

He was about to give the spell up as yet another bust when the surface began to, rather unexpectedly, ripple. He blinked then looked around, almost panicked, when it began to out and out boil. It began to turn an almost lavender color in the center and spread outwards with each bubble.

He started to stand. He didn't want to be anywhere near this thing if it blew up. He opened his mouth and

SLAM

He went careening face-first into a stone wall. He stumbled back, holding his nose, and looked around in confusion. What the hell? A quick glance told him he was in the Astronomy tower, which was directly across from the Divination tower. He sighed and looked at his nose, suddenly more at ease. Sudden 'Body Displacement' wasn't unheard of in Hogwarts so it wasn't anything to get panicky about.

"Get away from me!"

He whirled in time to see the door open and someone more or less fall through. He caught a glimpse of black robes and silvery hair before a pale hand reached out and knocked the person to the ground. He took a step forward, not about to watch someone get beat up, and reached out.

Only to gasp as his hand went through the person who'd knocked the silver haired person (a boy about his age by the looks of thing) down. He stumbled back.

That wasn't normal.

The silver-haired boy was pulled to his feet only to be forced backwards. Three steps and he was dangerously close to the door that lead to the balcony. The boy looked around with frantic blue eyes and held up his hands, as if to protect himself.

"Don't do this. Please."

A wand was extracted from the folds of the robes of his attacker. The tip was pointed at the boy who let out a weak sob and took another step back, through the door and onto the balcony.

"Blair! Blair, don't! It doesn't have to be like this. I'll leave if you want. Just…don't."

Oliver was frozen to the spot, eyes wide in horror and fear. What in the hell did that crazy lady have him witnessing? And how could he turn it off?

"Avada Kedavra." The words were spoken in a distant whispery voice. A flash of green light filled the room and Oliver shut his eyes tightly, but that did nothing to block it out. He felt like the light was burning itself into his mind and he was willing to swear that every time he closed his eyes he'd feel it.

There was a light snort and the sound of shuffling footsteps.

And Oliver opened his eyes.