Myths, Magic, and Alchemy

You Really Put the 'Blame' in 'Blameless'

"blah blah"- Speaking Greek

"blah blah"- Speaking Amestrian

'blah blah'- Thinking

*<*<*>*>* - Begin/end flashback

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Fullmetal Alchemist, or Percy Jackson. Good thing too, or they wouldn't be nearly as good as they are now. They belong to J.K. Rowling, Hiromu Arakawa, and Rick Riordan. Just to be safe, I also don't own the song 'This is War' by Thirty Seconds to Mars.

Percy

'Do not change the past. Do not change the past. Whatever you do, do not change the past.' The mantra repeated in Percy's head over and over, Chiron's warning echoing inside his skull as if it would somehow change what had happened.

'This is our fault.' Percy thought despairingly. 'The whole reason we were sent here was to make sure nothing like this happened. And now because we failed, two people are dead.'

     From the looks on Thalia and Nico's faces, they were thinking along the same lines. Thalia's eyes burned with anger, and Nico's presence seemed even darker than usual.

     Dumbledore was saying something about putting aside differences, but Percy was too distracted to pay attention. The only thing he could think about was the two children who were now dead.

'If Susan hadn't helped us; if we had insisted that she get to safety; then she wouldn't have died. And Luna-what's going to happen now that she's dead? Luna can't die...she's important.'

     Percy winced, instantly feeling guilty for thinking about Luna's 'importance'. Who was he to insinuate that Luna's death was more tragic than Susan's simply because Luna was 'important'? Luna wasn't just 'important', she was an innocent girl who shouldn't have died, regardless of her 'worth'.

     But as much as he hated the thought, it was true. Luna was an important part of Harry's journey. Now she was gone, and it was their fault. They were supposed to stop the Time-Jumper, and they had failed. And because of their failure, two innocent young girls were gone forever.

     Percy bowed his head, trying to shut out the desperate, mournful whispers and sobs that carried through the Great Hall. And as he did so, he couldn't help but feel as if he were hiding. Hiding from the guilt of his failure. He closed his eyes, but that didn't stop the tears from falling.

~o~O~o~

     The fire that burned in the common room seemed cold; if that were possible. The crackling of the fire, usually comforting, now seemed to be mocking laughter. The flames, usually entrancing as they danced together, now seemed to be reaching out, hungry for more than wood. The light that the flames cast, usually an oddly beautiful pattern of shadow and light, now seemed only eery and not bright enough. A log fell from the fire, as if eager to break the stifling silence.

     Of the six figures huddled around the fire, none seemed willing to be the first to speak. They were lost in their thoughts, thoughts of guilt, of what if, of despair, of confusion, of shock, of-

"It's the prophecy." Hermione's voice was barely audible, but still loud enough to disrupt the silence.

Thalia's nod was barely visible in the firelight. "Yeah. 'The martyr, the victim'; it must have been them."

"But-" Harry hesitated, then spoke again. "Why was Sirius Black looking for you three? I thought-I thought that it was me he was after."

     The demigods didn't need to exchange any glances. They were all thinking the same thing, and they knew it.