On Punching Gods and Absentee Dads

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/17926664.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies),
The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Character: Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Loki (Marvel), Thor
(Marvel), Tony Stark, Lily Evans Potter, Albus Dumbledore, Natasha
Romanov (Marvel), Clint Barton, Bruce Banner, Sirius Black, Remus
Lupin, James Potter
Additional Tags: Fatherhood, Dealing with your trauma by punching a god, Forgiveness,
Lies, Prophecy, Loki works with the Avengers, Harry Potter is Loki
(Marvel)'s Child, James Potter Lives, Sirius Black deserved better,
Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Angst, Humor, Lily Evans is perfect,
Genius Hermione Granger, Harry doesn't trust adults, but can you
blame him?, Protect Harry Potter, Canon Divergence - Post-Harry
Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Demigod Harry Potter, I've been
told this is wholesome, happy endings, complete fic, The Golden Trio
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Woods, Most Favs, Marvel Verse FF, Platinum - HP, Gold - Marvel,
Wonderful_Worldbuilding_Fics, Ultra favorite, A Labyrinth of Fics, The
Best Fics I've Read, Harry Potter Fanfic Must Reads, Marvel Fanfic
Must Reads, Coda, Love Me Some Crossovers, Ashes' Library, Best
crossovers, earth’s mightiest heroes, Ianto's Harry Potter Collection,
Ianto's Marvel Collection, Harry Potter Goes Away (Time
travel/accidents/escapes and others), literally amazing i could read
these over and over, Lady Bibliophile's Collection of Incredible
Fanfiction, WORTH EVERY BAGS UNDER MY EYES, Feel good fics
Stats: Published: 2019-02-26 Completed: 2020-04-15 Chapters: 56/56 Words:
246843

On Punching Gods and Absentee Dads

by Enigmaris

Summary

Harry finds out that his dad is alive, has been the whole time. Instead of being overjoyed,
Harry's disgusted. His dad left earth and abandoned his friends. Every painful thing he's
ever gone through can be traced back to one man. Now Harry's got super strength he can't
control and an almost unnecessary amount of magical power. His dad might be living it up
with the Avengers now but not for long. With the help of his friends, Harry comes up with a
plan for revenge. Get ready Avengers, Harry's out to punch a god.

Notes
Settle in folks, it's time for angst and drama. Only the good stuff.
 It's Obvious Really

The thing was that if Harry had just taken the time to think objectively about it he would have
expected it. He wasn’t an idiot. The facts were all there. Anyone who had the knowledge and
looked at his life objectively would have made the connection. He just hadn’t taken the time to
think about it. Which, he thought somewhat bitterly, was sort of what he always did. If he thought
about anything like Hermione, Sirius would still be alive.

He shook his head forcing himself not to think about Sirius. He was going to focus on the book that
had appeared on his bed just a few minutes before. The book that would change his world and had
woken him from the stupor he’d fallen into since the battle at the Ministry. After Sirius’ death and
finding out about the prophecy Harry hadn’t really, felt anything at all. There were three more
weeks of class and after that he was to return to the Dursleys. For a week after the battle he’d done
nothing but lay in bed. He didn’t even sleep.

His friends had tried to get him to eat and talk about what had happened but he refused. That was of
course until the book had arrived. It had come from Sirius of all people. Sirius had found the book
in a box of things from his parents and he’d sent it to Harry right before that night at the Ministry.
It had taken a week to get there because Sirius had sent in a way so that nobody but Harry would
know.

When the book had appeared in a beam of light right on his bed his friends had been pushing him
to go down to dinner. After checking to see if the book was jinxed he’d pulled off the letter on the
front and opened it to see it was from Sirius. His friends had left him alone to read after that telling
him they’d be downstairs and they’d keep everyone out of the dorm for as long as they could.

Sirius had written a letter explaining where he’d found the box of things that belonged to his
parents. He told Harry where the box was in Grimmauld Place and then sent this book for Harry to
have. Harry tore open the book and his heart had stopped at seeing the inscription on the first page.

To my beloved Lily

Write your story and let it be filled with love.

From James

This was his mom’s diary? According to the letter from Sirius he hadn’t been able to open it. There
was an enchantment that meant only certain people could read it. He didn’t even know what was in
it. Knowing this was a gift from his dad to his mom made his eyes tear up. He caressed the side of
the journal wondering what his mother had written inside. He took in a deep breath and turned the
page.

The writing was careful. The letters were large and slightly angular. It was written with a quill
Harry thought. His fingers trailed the letters not even taking in what it was saying. He just wanted
to take in the essence of his parents for a moment. Then he finally started to read.

Tonight was not what I’d planned for my wedding night. I suppose knowing my husband I should
have rid myself of any ideas of a traditional night. But still tonight was way more than just
surprising. James gave me this book so I could write down how I felt. Finding out that he’d been
lying to me, lying to everyone… I don’t know how to feel about it.

I know I love him. I married him and I don’t regret it. That means I must love him even if he did lie
to me. Which he did. I’m not going to forget that. Forgive? Probably. Forget? Never. The fact is
that James Potter is not even human and he didn’t tell me that until our wedding night. So now I’m
sitting here outside on the porch of this beach house angrily writing instead of spending time in the
bedroom with my new husband.

I’m angry. I’m scared. I’m confused. I understand why he lied. I do. I even understand why he
came to earth in the first place. But I just don’t know what that means for me. What do you do
when you marry an Asgardian?

Harry stopped reading immediately. Asgardian? Like Asgardian Asgardian? Like from Asgard the
realm eternal Asgardian? The wizarding world of course knew of the gods. How could they forget?
When Asgard had cut off communication with Earth centuries ago the wizards had not forgotten
their old allies. When Thor had returned to earth to help stop Loki’s invasion the wizarding world
had erupted into excitement. Would Asgard return entirely? Would old trade routes and old
practices be renewed?

So far all that had happened was that Loki had returned to earth to repay his debts to the people
he’d invaded. He stayed with the Avengers and worked with them to protect the world he’d tried to
harm. No contact had been made by either Asgardian with the wizarding world. All of this was
interesting but it wasn’t the reason he was so shocked.

The reason he was shocked was because of what it meant that his dad was from Asgard. It meant
he was half-Asgardian. Which he couldn’t be. Half-Asgardians or demi-gods as they were more
commonly known as were…more than he was. They were stronger, more powerful, and better.

Harry had crappy eyesight and could barely pass his classes let alone lift heavy weights. There was
no way he was a demi-god. It couldn’t be possible. Harry shook his head. He needed to keep
reading, he needed to know more before he jumped to crazy conclusions. He took a deep breath
and went back down to the writing.

James had left his home in Asgard many years before. There aren’t many magic users there now
and he felt lonely, isolated. So he’d gone to earth to live for a while as a human magic user. At first
he’d planned on just making up an adult identity but then he ran into the Potters. They still
worshipped the old gods and they were praying for a child. So James had given them one, himself.

He let them raise him again, a new baby and he grew up as a human. The magic he used to make
himself their child had locked away his memories of his past until he grew to be old enough to
understand it. The original plan was for him to remember that he was actually Asgardian and
return home. Except…he had me and he had Sirius and Remus and Peter. He couldn’t leave us.

So he stayed. He stayed with us, immortal and powerful and lying. I don’t know how to feel. I know
I’d be devastated if he left me. But at the same time won’t it hurt him when I start getting old and
he doesn’t? It’s not fair to either of us. And what about children? I always wanted a huge family but
any children I have with James will be demi-gods. They’ll be powerful and I don’t know how I feel
about that. What with the war being like it is I don’t want my children dragged into that war while
they’re still young just because they have power.

I can hear James walking around the house. After he’d told me the truth I stormed out of the house.
We’re at an old family beach house for our honeymoon. I almost left the house entirely but I
decided to stay. I’ve never been to France and I didn’t want to get lost. Now James is fretting in the
house clearly trying to decide whether or not to come out and talk to me. I don’t know what I want
him to do.

To talk or not to talk? To stay or not to stay? I don’t want to leave. I want to love James Potter for
the rest of my life. But will my love hurt him? Will I be strong enough to stay with someone who
will outlive me by thousands of years? I don’t know what to do.

The entry ended there. Harry ran a hand through his hair and quickly flipped the page. He needed
to know more. So much more. He shifted on his bed trying to get comfortable. He swallowed and
dived right back into the story.

James eventually came out and we talked some more. By some more I mean we talked all night. We
talked until the sun started rising over the Mediterranean. James begged for me to listen and
forgive him. I told him that wasn’t the problem and explained how worried I was. Which of course
gave him the opportunity to explain them away. I won’t tell him that was what I wanted but I think
he already knew.

He insisted that it didn’t matter about our different lifespans. If I wanted to become immortal like
him I could. He was important enough in Asgard that he could get me an apple of immortality.
Which was not something I had considered. He promised that if I decided to stay mortal then he
would stay with me throughout my life and he’d never begrudge me that. He knew what he was
getting into when he married me, he’d already accepted the risk.

I don’t know how to feel about it but at least I know how he feels. We talked about children next
and he swore to me that no matter what he’d keep his children safe. He wanted a family too. That
made me happy. He told me about his mother in Asgard, a fierce woman who would no doubt love
our children demi-god or not.

There is some stigma against demi-gods in Asgard. Apparently the reason Asgard stopped talking
with earth all those years ago was because of the danger demi-gods posed. They had the power of
an Asgardian and often something more because of their human ancestry. They didn’t make demi-
gods illegal but cutting down on the interactions with our two worlds lessened the danger.

James insisted that I shouldn’t worry though. He’d protect any of our children. I believe him as
much as I can. The final part of our conversation that night was about him. Who was he before he
was my James? A god that’s what. The god of mischief and magic which is so James it made me
laugh. He had a brother that he had a complicated relationship with as well as a father and a
mother.

The most shocking thing about his whole identity was the fact that he was (or rather is) a prince.
Prince Loki Odinson of Asgard. Which makes me, as his wife, a princess. Take that Petunia.

Harry was torn between laughing about his mother’s spiteful words to his aunt and screaming at
the revelation. He was the son of the guy who tried to invade earth a year ago? Well maybe not.
He still wasn’t convinced of his status as a demi-god, he needed to read more. So he did. For the
next three hours he read through his mother’s journal. He read as she decided that she would join
her husband in Asgard when she was a little older, she didn’t want to start being immortal as a 19-
year old.

He read about her pregnancy with him and how excited both of his parents were for him to be born.
He read about the journeys James took to Asgard to get things for Lily that would help her with her
pregnancy. The spells his dad cast on her to keep them both healthy and to ensure that Harry had
the best chance at life. It made him warm inside even if he couldn’t exactly deal with the fact that
his dad had also tried to take over earth.

The page of his mother’s journal talking about the day he was born made Harry actually cry. To
read how happy his mother was for him. How much she loved him. It was almost too much. It
didn’t really become real in his mind until he read about his true name.
Apparently his father had been so concerned for his health and safety that he decided to hide his
true identity as a demigod. A series of spells placed on him right at birth that limited his strength
and magic, made him seem like a normal baby wizard. The only way to break the spells and release
his true potential was to speak the name that his mother had written with hearts doodled around it.

Haraldr Lokison.

It sunk in that this could be real. He could really be the son of a god. Haraldr Lokison. What would
happen to him if he said it out loud? Did he want to? His dad had clearly abandoned him and
Remus and Sirius after his mother’s death. He should be mad! He was mad! But he was also
curious. What could he do now? Could this be the power the dark lord knew not? Did he need to
break the spell on him in order to save the world and his friends?

He wasn’t surprised when there was a knock on the door to the dorm.

“Harry?” Ron said. “The other guys want to get to bed.”

“Let’s go to the room of requirement.” Harry said. “I need to tell you guys what was in this book.”

It was the first time he’d suggested going anywhere but this room. Ron was quick to agree. Soon
they were in the room of requirement the book heavy in his arms. The room provided them with a
single couch. Harry settled in the middle with his head in Hermione’s lap. Hermione instantly
started carding his hair while Ron petted his side. Physical comfort was still so new to him in a lot
of ways and it helped.

“So what was in the book?”

“It was my mum’s diary from my dad. A gift for their wedding day. Mum really loved me. She
wrote about me and…”

He trailed off and licked his lips.

“Dad wasn’t human.”

Silence. His friends don’t say anything. They didn’t even stop with their petting. Harry took in
another deep breath and he started talking. He told them everything he’d read but stopped just short
of saying the name out loud. His friends had questions but they waited until he was finished.

“What’s the name?” Ron asked.

“Don’t want to say. Not sure if I should.” Harry admitted. “That berk that was once my dad he left
me. He abandoned Sirius and Remus. Then he comes back to earth not for me but to take the place
over.”

“Okay so your dad is an arse.” Ron surmised. “But bloody hell Harry you’re a demigod. Voldemort
wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“Ron’s right.” Hermione said. “You should tell us your name, see if it’s true. It doesn’t mean you
have to do anything with Loki. All it means is that you’re giving yourself the best chance to fulfill
the prophecy. I’m honestly not surprised that you’re a demi-god Harry.”

“What?” Harry demanded. “How in Merlin’s name aren’t you surprised?”

“Harry when we were eleven you wrestled a troll. When we were twelve you slew a basilisk. When
we were thirteen you cast a patronous so powerful you drove off over a hundred dementors right as
they were about to perform a kiss.” Hermione said. “That’s not even including all of the other
amazing things you do on a yearly basis. Honestly only a demi-god would get into as many
adventures as you do.”

That made him huff a laugh.

“Blimey.” Ron said. “If you’re a demi-god does that make us your…side kicks?”

“No.” Hermione said. “Obviously we’re his adventuring companions. Oh what’s the word the
Asgardians used. I read it once in a book. Shield brethren! We’re his shield brother and sister.”

“Shield brother? What does that mean?”

“It means that we guard each other’s backs.” Harry said softly. “It means we’ll be with each other
through anything. It’s a bond stronger than blood because it’s a bond forged through trial. A bond
you choose.”

He didn’t know how he knew that. Had he read it somewhere? That didn’t sound like him.

“Sounds like us.” Ron said. “I don’t know about you guys but I have a lot of family and I’m closer
to you two than any of them. Not that I don’t love my family but…”

“I get it.” Hermione said. “I feel closer to you two than I do my parents.”

“I imagine if I ever had a family it’d feel like what I feel with you guys.” Harry admitted.

“Then that’s settled. I’m Hermione Jean Granger and I am a shield sister to Ronald Weasley and
Harry Potter.”

She said this very officially even raising one hand up like it was a magical vow. Harry sat up
between his two friends wondering what was going to happen next. There was stillness in the air,
anticipation was growing. Ron raised his hand next almost transfixed.

“I’m Ronald Billius Weasley and I’m a shield brother to Hermione Granger and Harry Potter.”

Ron and Hermione’s hands started glow, snakes of light circling their fingers, palm and wrist. A
promise built in magic. Harry knew if he wanted to do this then he needed to use his real name. Or
it wouldn’t count as much as it could, as much as it should. He lifted up his own hand and took a
deep breath.

“I am Haraldr Lokison and I am a shield brother to Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger.”

The light sparked along his own hand but it was much brighter than his friends. In fact it was
burning. The burning spread down along his entire body circling and heating him up from the
inside out. He closed his eyes against the pain and felt his friends grabbing him. The pain increased
around his forehead burning like only Voldemort had only ever been able to do to him. The pain
was so much that Harry couldn’t even scream, his breath has been stolen away. The last thing he
recognized before he gave into unconsciousness was his friends touching his skin and calling his
name.

He woke hours later still in the room of requirement. His entire body felt sore and leaden. He
forced his eyelids open with a great force of will.

“Harry?” Hermione asked. “Are you awake?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, thank Merlin. One more hour and I was going to drag you to Madam Pomphrey no matter
what Ron thought.”

His mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton and his tongue was numb. No sooner had he
thought about than a glass of water appeared in mid-air. Hermione caught the glass and then
carefully helped him sit up and gave him a few sips.

“Ron went out to get food with the cloak a few minutes ago. You’ve been out for 5 hours. It’s well
past midnight now. How do you feel?”

“Sore.” He said lifting up a hand to rub his face.

Only to pause when he saw the mark on his wrist. It wasn’t all that noticeable really, it looked like
just a small tattoo. He blinked and brought it closer to his face. It looked like a Celtic knot with
three main knots intertwined.

“We all got them the moment you said your name.” Hermione said. “It’s evidence of the bond we
formed. Don’t worry I’ve read about these. I knew what I was doing.”

“Really?”

“Of course. It’s just a basic bond. Nothing complicated like a marriage or adoption bond.”
Hermione said clinically, almost offended that he doubted her. “All it is, is a magical manifestation
of our friendship, our being shield brothers and sisters. Each node represents something. Here.”

She took his wrist in her hand gently and pointed to the first node. It had a zig zag pattern that
reminded Harry a little bit of his scar.

“I learnt about this in Runes.” She said. “This one is a sōwilō node. It means literally sun but in
runes like this it stands for protection, strength and guidance. It’s the line of a leader.”

“Isn’t that sort of like my…”

“Your scar? The rune sōwilō is the exact shape of your scar actually. Probably more evidence of
your demi-god-ness.” She said.

“So is that my line? I don’t feel like a leader.”

“Harry the DA may have been my idea but you are definitely the leader of it.”

There was no denying that. Harry may not have felt like much of a leader but he was the head of
the DA. He nodded and so Hermione moved to the next knot. It sort of looked like a bunch of
triangles.

“This is the berkanan. Literally it means ‘birch tree’ but birches stand for wisdom and hope.”

Harry almost wanted to say that this was for Hermione but that didn’t feel right. Mostly because he
knew his friends better than that. If this was about hope then Ron was their best bet. Ron was the
one who could be optimistic. Ron was the one who looked on the bright side. Ron was the one
who kept Harry and Hermione from falling into anxiety. Ron distracted them with jokes, stories
and chess games.

“Ron?”
“That’s what I thought too.” She said wryly. “Ron thinks I’m crazy but then again I don’t think he
knows himself very well.”

“What’s yours then?”

“The laguz. It means lake but usually refers to seer water. In this case I’m assuming it means
someone clear minded and intelligent who can see many possible paths and possibilities. Someone
who knows more than most but like many seers doesn’t know what to do with it.” She explained.

“Sounds like you but you always know what to do.”

“I really don’t Harry.” She sighed. “When you fainted, I had no idea what to do. I just…try to plan
for every worst case scenario. That’s why I always seem so prepared.”

“You still get us through.”

“No don’t you see Harry. We get each other through.” Hermione said. “Look at how the three
nodes interlock in the center and the overall circular shape of the image. We’re all equal partners in
this. Together we are at our strongest. I’m the brains, you’re the brawn and Ron’s the heart.
Together we make one round, never ending and in balance.”

That was actually rather poignant. Harry touched the mark on his wrist. It was silvery in the light
and it would be barely noticeable. It felt nice to have it there.

“Why’d you have us bond Hermione?”

“You told me you didn’t have a family.” She said.

“You knew that though.”

“Of course, I did.” She said. “But…I don’t know it just hit me how unfair all of it was. You’re one
of the kindest people I’ve ever met Harry and it…I know you never had a good time at the
Dursleys but I just tried not to think about why because it made me so angry and upset that you
were suffering and I couldn’t do anything. Now with Sirius gone our one chance at getting you out
of there before your 17th birthday is gone. I just wanted to make sure you knew we were with you
all the way. Have been from the beginning.”

He sniffed and rubbed his eyes. It was then that he noticed his glasses were gone.

“Where are my glasses?”

“Do you need them? I’m sorry I forgot to hand them to you. We took them off when you passed
out.”

Harry shook his head and looked around him. The room was crystal clear. He could see the
individual gray stones of the castle wall. The grain on the wood of the torches that light the room.

“I don’t need them.”

“What?”

“I think that spell Loki used on me messed with my eyesight. It’s gone and I can see.” Harry said in
awe. “I can see.”

“That’s wonderful Harry. How does your head feel?”

“My head?”

“Any headache?” She asked.

That was when Harry realized he didn’t have a headache. For over a year he had had a constant
ache in his head. Ever since that night in the graveyard after Voldemort had touched his skin. But it
was gone. No pain lingered in his head. He rubbed his scar expecting it to prickle but to his
surprise it felt like…a scar. Nothing special.

“No. It doesn’t hurt. Why?”

“Well you’re scar glowed a few hours ago. You screamed a lot and said it was burning but then
you sort of switched into Parseltongue and we didn’t understand.” She said wringing her hands.

Hermione was seated on the floor next to the couch while Harry’s body took up its entire length
stretched out.

“Did anything else happen?”

“Well…you grew.”

“Grew?”

“Yes. You’re only a bit shorter than Ron now. You used to be shorter than me. I think Loki’s spell
kept your body looking like James instead of like his real Aesir body. But now that you’ve broken
it you grew to your proper height.”

“Blimey. No wonder I’m so sore.”

“Your hair’s the same and so are your eyes and nose.” She said. “You just got a bit taller. Most
people won’t notice since you slouch all the time.”

“A slouching demi-god. What will the history books say?” Ron said from the entrance.

Harry and Hermione giggled while Ron brought over his basket of food from the kitchens.

“Good to see you mate. How are you?”

“Sore but alive. Don’t really feel much different really.”

“Well there’s one way to test if you are.” Ron said.

Ron reached into his basket and pulled out a fork.

“Bend it. You should be strong now yeah?”

Harry took the fork but before he could even attempt to bend the fork it mangled itself in his hand
under what he had thought had been a gentle grip. He moved the fork in his hand. It still felt like
metal to him of course but soft and malleable in a way that it never had before. He swallowed and
looked up at his friends.

“That was easy.”

“It might also be a bit harder to hide.”

“Bloody hell mate. You’ll break any door knobs you touch with strength like that.”
“Or people.” Harry added.

“Stay calm.” Hermione said. “I’ll look up in the library what we should do and I’ll make up a few
plans…”

“Don’t sweat it Hermione.” Ron said. “It’s just going to take practice. Here.”

He took the mangled fork from Harry and cast a repairing spell on it. Then he held it out to Harry
again.

“Try again.”

He took the fork with as gentle a grip as he could and found that it only bent a little.

“See practice.” Ron said smiling. “Harry’ll get used to it. It’s just like how we had to learn to
control our magic as first years. He can do it again with this. And if he breaks anything we can fix
it. We do have magic after all.”

“What about when I go back to the Dursleys?” Harry asked, stories of tragic greek demi-gods
filling up his head.

That made Ron pause even Hermione looked stumped. Harry sighed and leaned forward to sneak
out a bite of food out of the basket. Of course he crushed the soft cake he pulled out in his hand. He
played it cool but dumping all of the crushed mess in his mouth like he’d meant to do that. Which
made his two friends giggle at him.

They for a while, all of them thinking about what had happened. The longer Harry had to think
about it, the angrier he got.

“I just…I can’t believe it.”

“What?”

“He left everything behind.” Harry said.

“Harry.” Ron said. “Maybe he thought you died.”

“What?”

“I’ve been thinking about it.” Ron said. “I don’t know why you survived the killing curse. But
some of the stories my mum’s told me about demigods…well even that curse could kill them.”

Harry swallowed at more evidence that he was freakish somehow.

“It’s true. The spell would work on a god if you could hit them with one powerful enough.”
Hermione added. “Maybe he thought you died and so he went home because his family was dead.
And when he came back to earth maybe he wanted to get revenge…I’m not saying it’s right but it
does make sense.”

Harry clenched his fists, the skin turning white. He had to admit it did make sense. If Loki had
thought Harry was dead then why would he ever go looking for him at the Dursleys? But
something about it didn’t sit right.

“But what about Remus?”

“What?” Ron asked.

“Remus! His best friend! Even if he thought everyone was dead. Even if he was right and I was
dead and Sirius and Peter and Mom were all dead, he still left Remus behind, all alone. We saw
him in our third year. Do you think he was doing well?”

That made his two friends scowl because it was true. No matter what the explanation was that Loki
had, no matter what had happened, short of being obliviated, he had left Remus Lupin behind.
Harry wanted answers, but more importantly he wanted justice.

“All I want to do is just…use all of this new strength I can’t control and punch him in his rat face!”

Hermione smile a little at Harry’s declaration while Ron only looked more thoughtful.

“What is it Ron?”

“Why don’t you Harry?”

“Why don’t I what?”

“Punch him.”
 How to Throw a Punch
Chapter Summary

The Golden Trio makes a plan and Harry travels to New York without a passport, its
almost too easy.

Chapter Notes

Heyyyy, I'm back at you with a new 5k word chapter. Please forgive my inability to
update regularly. I am but a humble graduate student trying to learn about Martian
volcanism.

Harry blinked stupidly at his best friend and Ron grinned.

“Think about it mate. Everyone knows that the gods are living in New York City. You could get a
portkey there, go to his house, punch him and leave.”

“He lives with superheroes. They’re not gonna let me get near him without a fight.” Harry pointed
out.

“Then use magic and stun ‘em.” Ron said as if it was obvious.

“You’re forgetting two things Ron.” Hermione said. “The statute of secrecy and the underage
magic laws.”

“Half of my dad’s job is finding ways to explain away magic to muggles.” Ron told them. “And
Harry won’t be breaking the statute if he can explain his magic as something else, something
alien.”

“So, if I do a spell and say hey my name is Haraldr Lokison then they’ll just think I’m Asgardian.”
Harry said. “That’s genius.”

“But what about the underage magic laws? Harry could get his wand snapped…I mean unless of
course he did his magic wandless making it impossible for any government to track…” Hermione
said thoughtfully. “But that’s impossible…”

“Why’s it impossible?” Ron asked. “Harry’s a demigod.”

They stayed up the rest of the night talking about if it would be possible for Harry to punch the god
of mischief in the face. The more they talked and planned the more likely it seemed. At first Harry
brought up his friends going but Ron told him it wouldn’t be a smart idea.

“We need to be here to make sure people believe you’re with the Dursleys. Hermione and I can
cover you so you can spend as much time as you need in New York.”

“It’s true. I want to be there with Harry, really I do. I know a few spells that would be perfect to
cast on your dad.” Hermione said. “But if we get caught trying to sneak out, we’ll never get there.”

Harry nodded in understanding. Part of him hurt that his friends couldn’t go, but another part of
him felt glad. This was dangerous and his friends couldn’t be hurt by Avengers or gods if they
weren’t there.

“Alright so…all I need to do is learn how to make portkeys and how to do wandless magic, all
before the school year ends.” Harry said. “So that I can go punch my dad in the face.”

“Don’t worry mate.” Ron promised. “We’ll help you. I’ll even go to the library.”

“Well come on. We need to get some sleep.” Hermione said. “Then we’ll get down to the library
and get to work.”

Which is exactly what they did. For the next week Harry was constantly active. He practiced
controlling his strength and he tried wandless magic. Surprisingly, the last was easier than the first.
The increase in magical strength had really only made magic easier. Which was good since he
broke things constantly when he wasn’t thinking. His magic was able to hide the damage.

Hermione had replaced the lenses in his glasses with regular window glass so he could still wear
them without anyone knowing his eyes were better. He also took to slouching more than he had
before, sure it was bad for his back, but he only had to do it until the end of the school year. Then
over the summer he could have a ‘growth spurt’ and no one would be any wiser that he was
actually half alien.

It turned out that planning a way to get into New York City just to punch a god was easier than
originally believed. There was a place in Diagon Alley that sold international portkeys. Harry
could buy one to get to New York and from there Harry could camp out in the wizarding district
while he got everything else together. Ron and Hermione helped him practice every spell he’d need
whenever they had free time. They explained it away by saying they were helping Harry grieve.

By the time the school year ended they had a plan. Harry felt confident that he’d be able to knock
Loki down. He’d even had Ginny show him how to properly punch. He’d mentioned to her that he
was finally tired of getting beat up by his cousin and she’d shown him where to put his thumb so
he didn’t break it. The 4th year girl was terrifying but now Harry was sure he could properly punch
out the god of lies.

Which was all that really mattered anyway.

“So, we’re all clear on the plan?” Ron asked as he pulled the train compartment door shut.

“We been through it a dozen times.” Hermione said. “Of course, we’re clear on what we’re doing.”

“I just want to make sure we’ve figured everything out. It isn’t every day you make a plan to punch
a god.”

“You know we really need a better name for this plan.” Harry pointed out. “Something…with more
subtlety”

“Harry, you’re going to a different country for the first time to punch a god.” Hermione told him.
“There’s nothing subtle about this.”

“We still could have come up with a plan name.”

Hermione sighed in despair which made Harry grin. His mom’s journal had revitalized him in a
way. It wasn’t just finding out he was a demi-god, really it was finding out how loved he was. His
soul still hurt when he thought about Sirius or the prophecy but now he didn’t feel as if he was
drowning in it. The tattoo on his wrist might have helped too. He wasn’t in this alone and he never
would be.

Ron sat down next to Harry and placed his feet on the bench right next to where Hermione was
sitting. Hermione lifted an eyebrow up at Ron’s invasion of her space. When he didn’t move his
feet away, she merely sighed and placed the heavy book she had in her lap onto his calves. The title
read Compendium of Wandless Magic Spells.

“Ouch.” Ron complained, it probably didn’t hurt that much since he didn’t move.

“What’s that for?” Harry asked. “I thought I’d gotten wandless magic down.”

“It’s true you can do it.” Hermione admitted. “A lot better than I thought.”

“Wow thanks.” Hermione gave him a look and Harry mimed zipping his lips shut.

“Anyway.” She said. “I noticed that some spells were easier for you than others and I wondered
why.”

“I’ve always been better at some stuff.” Harry said. “I don’t think my demigoddness is gonna make
me good at potions.”

“I looked it up.” Hermione said. “Apparently some spells actually work better wandless than
others. If the spell is older, like the summoning spell or the cutting charm and invented before
wands became mainstream then they’re easier to cast. If the spell is newer and made with a wand
in mind then it’s harder.”

“Oh.” Harry said.

I didn’t even think about that.” Ron admitted, blushing a little. “So what sort of spells should Harry
use?”

“I…borrowed this book from the library.” Hermione said patting the heavy tome.

“We’re not allowed to take books over the summer.” Harry said grinning. “Hermione Granger did
you steal something from the library?”

“It was for a good cause!” Hermione said. “Besides we’re going to bring it back. No one will
notice it’s gone.”

“What’s so good about it?” Ron asked.

“Harry can use this to figure out what spells to use on his break in attempt. The last thing we want
is Harry trying to break in and using a spell designed for wand magic and having a false start.”

“Gimme the book.” Harry said after a momentary pause.

Hermione smirked but did hand him the book. He opened it up and flipped through the pages. This
really would help him pick the right spells to use. He sent a grateful smile to Hermione. The cart
lady came by a moment later asking if they wanted anything. Harry pulled out some galleons and
ordered sweets for all of them.

While they chewed on sugar quills and chocolate frogs Harry read through a few spells that
seemed useful. He wondered if he could do them wordlessly too.

“I suppose there is one thing we forgot.” Hermione said.

“What?” Ron asked, his voice panicked. “I swear I thought of everything!”

“No, not like that. It’s just…after the punch.” Hermione said gently. “Are you going to talk to your
dad about the war? Now that the ministry is admitting that You-Know-Who is back there’s nothing
keeping him from acting openly against the world.”

Harry honestly didn’t know. He didn’t want to think about it. He knew he probably should. That if
his dad could help end the war, save more lives, then Harry should tell him. But at the same time
he didn’t want to have anything to do with someone who could abandon his friends so easily. He
got a stubborn look on his face that his friends easily interpreted.

“If you don’t want to talk to your dad about it maybe Thor would help. He’s your uncle isn’t he?
Plus he’s a superhero so it’s sort of his job.” Ron suggested.

“I dunno. He doesn’t have any magic and the rest of the Avengers are muggles. Would it be safe?”
Harry asked.

“If it feels right.” Hermione said. “Give them the option. Our side needs as much help as it can
get.”

“Alright. I’ll keep an open mind.”

“Good. Now we’ve done enough planning. Harry let’s play some chess.”

Harry grinned but agreed to play chess with Ron. The other teen soundly defeated him three times
while Hermione read through another book, this one on the norse gods and the history of
demigods. Harry didn’t want to know what was in that book because he had a feeling it wasn’t
good based on Hermione’s look.

By the time they pulled into London Harry had almost forgotten that there was anything wrong in
his life. No one had come by their compartment to bother them and his friends kept him pretty
distracted. But when the train slowed down and Harry realized he had to actually go to New York
and punch his dad, the nerves came back.

“It’s going to be okay Harry.”

“Yeah.” Harry said looking at his friends. “Come on. Let’s go.”

“It’s show time.” Ron said grinning.

Show time involved getting their trunks, avoiding Malfoy and his goons, and going over to where
the Weasleys were waiting. Harry received the hug from Mrs. Weasley very carefully, even so she
must have thought he was squeezing her a bit too hard because she got a little teary and told him
that it was going to be alright. He was just glad he hadn’t hurt her. Harry didn’t know if things
were going to be alright, all he did know was that he had answers and justice to get.

Once he’d said goodbye to all of the Weasleys, Fred and George included. He made his excuses
and quickly stole away. He heard Ron explaining to his mum and dad that the Dursleys were
anxious to get Harry home safely to the blood wards. The last thing Harry heard before going
through the barrier was Mr. Weasley saying he was glad that the muggles had gotten their heads on
right.
Harry made his way through the crowds of the station, keeping his eye out for his relatives. He
saw Uncle Vernon, angrily standing near one of the exits. Harry knew that if he didn’t go over
there in 15 minutes or less then the man would leave him there. Which was just fine by him. Harry
had no plans on speaking to his relatives at all. Instead he snuck over to the nearest men’s restroom
and stuffed himself into the empty disabled stall.

He needed the space to do the magic he had to do. He looked at the empty owl cage on the top of
his trunk for a moment in sadness. He’d sent Hedwig to the Burrow. His bird would be safer there.
She’d assured him in her own way that she could make it and Hermione had confirmed that
Hedwig would be just fine on her own for a while. It didn’t mean he didn’t miss his bird. He
opened the trunk and pulled out some clothing.

Getting the right clothing had been easier than expected. He’d just asked Dobby for help and the
elf had happily gotten him what he needed. It wasn’t that Harry didn’t have muggle clothing, he
did. It was just that the muggle clothing was either a Weasley sweater or some of Dudley’s hand-
me-downs. If Harry was honest with himself, he didn’t want to see his dad wearing either. He
wanted to look like he was strong, like the world wasn’t spiraling out of control around him. At
least when he punched him.

He quickly changed into the clothing, thankfully Dobby had listened very carefully about what
Harry wanted and hadn’t purchased anything too…Dobby-ish for lack of a better term. The shirt
was a dark green and the jeans fit him, without any holes or tears. Dobby had even gotten him new
trainers that fit his feet (which had grown with the rest of him). Once he was dressed he cast a few
spells, wandlessly, on himself. The first was a notice-me-not charm to make sure that no muggles
bothered him. The next was a small glamor to cover up the lightning bolt scar. The final one was a
hair changing spell, this was actually a pranking spell but it still worked.

Harry shrunk his trunk and left the bathroom looking like a brunette with straight, thin hair and a
clear complexion. He walked confidently through the crowds that magically parted for him.
Everyone in the station sensed he was there even though their eyes slid right over him. It made
getting through and out the door pretty easy.

From the station Harry walked to the Leaky Cauldron. It wasn’t a quick walk but that was fine.
With his enhanced endurance he wasn’t tired and it gave him time to really think through his plan.
His friends had really helped shape the plan, but now that Harry was on his own there were things
to think about. Things like how hard to punch Loki and where. Should he punch him in the face?
The face that was so similar to his own, the face that had cursed him to be constantly compared to
a trouble making dad? Or maybe he should punch him in the gut? That was Dudley’s favorite place
to punch people so Harry knew exactly how much it hurt.

Every time he thought about his dad in any real way he felt nothing but anger. Anger for the little
boy in the cupboard who had constantly wished that someone would save him. Anger for the 11
year old wizard who nearly lost himself to a mirror that promised family. Fury for the man who
had lost his youth to Azkaban and his life to a war that should never have gone on this long. Rage
for a man ravaged by a curse and left alone by the people he thought he could trust. There was just
so much hurt in him. His dad was alive, and he had left everyone alone for 14 years! Nothing could
justify that! Nothing ever would.

Harry was familiar with rage. He was a long time friend of pushing down all of your anger and
hiding it away. This past year he’d snapped left and right. Umbridge and Voldemort’s visions had
destroyed his ability to pretend that he wasn’t constantly frustrated and upset with the world.

Sometimes it scared him, this darkness inside. It made him wonder late at night if he was just like
Voldemort after all. Harry didn’t want to feel like this, he didn’t want to feel monstrous. But
sometimes he did. Like right then as he walked through the busy streets of London. Because as
much as he called punching Loki justice, wasn’t it really revenge? Yes, that’s what it was. He was
avenging his destroyed childhood, he was avenging Sirius’s painful life, he was avenging Remus’
loneliness and pain.

With just one punch Harry reminded himself. He didn’t want to go overboard, no need to become
the next Hercules and accidentally kill all of his family. That’s not a good look on anyone. He
didn’t want to kill Loki, he didn’t want the man to die. Harry just wanted to take all of this anger
and hurt and blame someone for it. He wanted someone else to take responsibility for all the shitty
things that had happened. But Loki wasn’t doing that, he wasn’t coming back into the world and
saving the day. Hence the punch.

By the time Harry had gotten to the Leaky Cauldron he’d reigned in his temper. He made his way
inside, unlike every other time he’d gone in there people didn’t crowd him. In fact, no one even
really bothered to give him more than a glance. He walked past Tom and out into the entrance.
Pulling out his wand he carefully tapped the right brick and went inside. As Ron said, it was show
time.

Getting the portkey turned out to be easy. They’d all been worried that there would be some sort of
restrictions on who could buy them. Like the restrictions Dumbledore had placed around the goblet
of fire. But no, Harry had just walked in, asked for a portkey to New York City, paid the man 20
galleons and then walked out of the store with a rope that would take him to New York City when
he said the word ‘hopscotch’. Which was just the funniest thing. Could Harry have purchased a
portkey as a first year? Would the tired attendant at the desk have even batted an eye?

It didn’t matter. He had a way to get to Loki now. Harry swung over to Gringotts and withdrew
enough galleons to pay for the trip, then he exchanged about half of it for muggle American
money. Once he was sure he had everything he needed, he took the portkey in hand and said the
word.

“Hopscotch.”

The sensation of being hooked by the navel and spun around was one that was all too familiar.
Harry didn’t even realize how much he hated it until he had already landed flat on his face in a
terminal in New York City. He shivered and tried to clamp down on the instinctual panic.

“Sir.” A tired voice in an American accent said. “Please stand up and move out of the way for any
other incoming travelers.”

Harry groaned but pushed himself up. He looked around to see a man in a muggle uniform looking
at him with what could really only be described as apathy.

“You alright?” Harry asked.

“Long day.” The man admitted with a snort. “First time to New York?”

“Uhh…yes?”

“Go down that hallway. Walk through the red arches. They’ll take off any spells you’ve got on you
that would hide your identity, glamors and Polyjuice, things like that. It’s a security thing.” The
man said pointing to a hallway to the right of the terminal Harry had ended up in. “Then wait in
line and when an attendant becomes free go up, state your name and your purpose. Produce your
wand to prove you are who you say you are, and then you’re free to go. If you need any help
finding a hotel or anything else there are information elves inside the station.”

“Right.” Harry said. “Thanks.”

The man had already tuned him out. Harry straightened out his clothing and made his way quickly
towards the arches. He didn’t mind that his glamor would be removed, he’d only done it so that no
one in London would see him and alert the headmaster. He walked through the arches and felt the
glamors fall off.

The entire place reminded Harry of an airport. He’d never actually been to a muggle one but he’d
seen it in movies that Dudley watched sometimes. There were magical moving advertisements on
the walls, telling him about the different things, both magical and mundane, that he should be sure
to visit. The carpet was short and thick with a weird geometric pattern in dark blue. The hallways
were lit with mage lights stuck inside glass boxes. It was all very modern compared to Diagon
Alley and Hogwarts.

Once he got to the end of the hallway he walked into a wider room that had multiple lines of people
waiting between floating ropes. Each line led up to a human behind a desk. It really was like an
airport. Harry grinned and made his way to the line that looked the shortest, which turned out to be
the third one from the right.

To his left there was a woman with eyes that didn’t look human, she had long blonde hair and she
smelled like flowers. Something about her made Harry’s head feel dizzy and disoriented. He shook
his head and closed his eyes, it took a moment but his head cleared. He called on his magic to help
him not lose his head and he opened his eyes again. Was she part veela? Harry didn’t know but it
didn’t matter.

The line moved forward and so Harry stepped past the pretty woman. There was a family to his
right, complete with crying toddler. The only difference was that this crying toddler clearly had
magic. Harry watched in fascination as every time the toddler kicked the ground, the carpeted floor
started sporting little spots of char. Where the pudgy fists hit, little puffs of flames erupted. The
toddler’s mum was trying to calm the young boy but to no avail. The dad was just putting the
flames out if they got too big.

The family’s line moved forward, and the mum dragged the toddler further along, with a protective
spell on her skin giving it a blue tint. Harry watched them go with wide eyes. Someone came up
behind him and he glanced back to see a man wearing invisible clothing. By invisible, Harry meant
that it worked just the same way his invisibility cloak did. His jacket and trousers made a clear
image of what was behind him, the only thing visible was his neck, face and hands.

“Nice clothes.” Harry said to the man.

“Thanks.” The man said in an American accent. “It’s all the rage in Cali.”

“Really?” Harry said.

“Oh yeah. I like it but it’s not nearly as cool as what you British wizards have. Your robes are so
slimming.”

Harry nodded, he hadn’t really noticed his robes as slimming, but then again it wasn’t like he wore
his school uniform for the style of it all.

“What are you coming to the US for?” The guy asked.

“Tourist stuff.” Harry evaded. “Never been outside of Britain, wanted to experience something
new.”

If by something new, Harry meant punching a god in the throat.

“Nice. I just got back from France. I ended my vacation early. Now that the war’s back on it’s safer
here than in Europe.”

Harry grimaced and made a sound of agreement. He didn’t know how famous he was outside of
Britain but since the man hadn’t recognized him it might not be that big of a deal.

“I’m Brian, Brian Freeze by the way.” The man said sending out a hand to shake.

“Harry.” There was no need to push his luck by giving a last name.

“Word of advice Harry?” Brian said. “Talk to the elves about getting a hotel in the muggle part.
It’s much cheaper and there’s less likelihood of someone drunkenly using an unlocking charm on
your door because they thought it was their room.”

“Thanks.”

“And it might help with…that.” He motioned to Harry’s forehead. “That is if you didn’t want to be
noticed.”

Harry blushed and awkwardly tried to cover up the scar.

“Noticed that did you?”

“Can’t help but notice. Your face has been everywhere, ever since last year when you got put in
the Tri-Wizard Tournament against your will.”

“Really? I mean…the papers here said it was against my will?”

“Wasn’t it?”

“Course it was.”

“Well, the papers have been covering you since.”

“Maybe I should get a hat.”

“Might help.” Brian agreed sounding more amused than he had any right to.

Their line moved forward and Harry realized it was nearly his turn. He was at the front now and
the large woman in front of him was in the middle of handing her wand over. When she started to
waddle away, Brian spoke.

“Good luck Harry.”

“Thanks Brian.”

Harry strode up to the attendant, a woman with bright purple hair and lips that were stained the
same color. She was looking at a magical screen that reminded Harry of a hologram.

“Name and Country of Origin please.”

“Uhh… Harry Potter and Britain.”

The woman snorted.

“Right and I’m Elvi- Holy shit it really is.”

Harry blushed bright red as the woman stared gobsmacked at him. That seemed to shake her and
she cleared her throat.

“Sorry…Why are you coming to New York City, Mr. Potter?”

“I want to see some sites, be a tourist.” Harry lied as best he could.

“Of course. Wand please.”

He pulled his wand out of his pocket and placed it on the desk. The desk glowed white for a
moment and then the light turned green and Harry heard a dinging sound.

“That’s all cleared up, feel free to go on to the left and into the station.”

“Thanks.”

Harry pretended like he couldn’t feel the woman’s eyes boring holes into the back of his head and
he hurried away. Turns out he was just famous everywhere. The first thing he did was replace his
glamors once he was free to. The station was huge, there were shops selling everything from
novelty t-shirts to potion ingredients to magical snacks. People were milling in and out of the
shops. There were food stores selling pizzas and burgers and all sorts of things Harry had only ever
dreamed of eating.

He weaved through the crowds of people until he got to the information desk. It figured they’d
leave the house elves to work the most demeaning job. He shook his head and walked up to a house
elf wearing clothing that was similar to the uniforms the rest of the works had.

“How can Figsie help you today?”

“Can you help me get a hotel room in the muggle part of New York?” Harry asked.

“Of course sirs.” Figsie snapped his fingers and produced a brochure. “What sorts of hotel did sirs
want?”

Harry took the brochure and opened it up. He quickly realized he had more than enough to pay for
any hotel he wanted.

“Could I get one near Avengers Tower? It’s in Midtown…I think.”

“There’s a very nice one. Would you like a view of the tower sirs?”

“Yeah, and could I get a balcony or something?”

Figsie nodded and soon Harry had a hotel room. According to the brochure most muggle hotels had
rooms that were placed on hold for magical clients. It was a law that magical government in the
United States passed to mitigate the risk of drunken tourists doing magic in front of muggles. He
read about the spells put in place on hotels to ensure that there were always rooms available and so
that the muggles working there didn’t notice.

Harry would have disliked the morals of that if he still wasn’t paying the people who owned the
hotel. They did get money, and it didn’t seem like they lost a lot of revenue. In fact, after this
decision magical tourism to New York actually increased. So…maybe it was good for them? Harry
shook his head and decided not to think about it too much.

Figsie helped him set up the payment so that the bill was charged directly to his Gringotts vault
and then gave him a hotel room key that would magically transport him to his room. New York
City had really done a lot to ensure that witches and wizards interacted with muggles as little as
possible. It was almost funny. How many incidents had almost destroyed the statute of secrecy
before the government was forced to go to these lengths?

“Thanks Figsie. Are there any pamphlets that can tell me what rules I should follow? I don’t want
to break the statute accidentally.”

“Of course sirs. Here you are.”

Harry thanked the elf again, taking the pamphlets that the elf had provided. He knew he was going
to be skirting the magical secrecy laws but there was no reason to spit on them too. He wandered
around the station a little longer, window shopping and reading through the pamphlets. Once he’d
seen enough and even purchased some small trinkets for Ron and Hermione, he decided to call it a
day and head to the hotel.

It might have been closer to lunch time here in New York but Harry had had a full day. Tomorrow
he could start planning. He used his key card and it portkeyed him right into his hotel. This time
instead of landing on a hard surface. He landed with a bounce on a large bed. The bed was
probably the most comfortable he’d ever laid in. The entire room was almost too nice.

The walls were a very pale gold and the lights in the room were warm. Carefully Harry got off the
bed and walked over to the large balcony. He pushed open the glass door and walked into the hot
summer air. Gleaming right in front of him, only a few blocks away was Avengers Tower. Even
Harry, entrenched as he was in his own life and the wizarding world, knew about Tony Stark and
the rest of the Avengers. The tower was impressive, made up of beautiful, elegant lines. It looked
like the pinnacle of futurism, the promise of a better tomorrow.

“I’m gonna feel bad breaking into it.”

Hopefully he wouldn’t wreck the tower. If the plan went well the worst that would happen were a
few windows broken and maybe some dents in a wall or two. Nothing that couldn’t be fixed.
Unless lost control of his strength…then there might be more damage. He promised himself to be
careful as he stared at the silver tower. The Avengers were nice people, even if they were hanging
out with his deadbeat, world invading dad.
 The Main Event
Chapter Summary

Yes finally. We all get to read what we came here for. It's time for...the punch!

Chapter Notes

Thanks everyone for the great comments on this story! I hope you all enjoy this
chapter even more!

Harry stared at the tower for a little bit longer, plans circulating in his head. There was so much to
do, so many things to plan out. As flippant as Ron had been even he had understood that it wasn’t
as easy as knocking on the door and then punching Loki in the jaw. No this had to be done
correctly. Elegantly, even. Harry wasn’t much of a Slytherin no matter what the hat thought but he
would have to be cunning if he was going to get close enough to Loki to punch him, without then
immediately being locked up forever.

Eventually Harry went back inside and ordered a pizza using the phone in his room. He figured he
deserved that much. He ordered an extra large pizza, he’d found that his appetite had increased so
much after the spells Loki had placed on him fell. He was almost always hungry. Another reason to
be mad at Loki Harry supposed. Thanks to him now Harry always wanted to eat. If he went back to
the Dursleys he might literally die.

Wait if? What was he thinking, of course he was going to go back. There were the blood wards to
consider. He couldn’t be without that protection. Why not? You’re a demigod aren’t you? What
Death Eater is going to give you a problem? Plenty actually. Harry might be way more powerful
but that didn’t mean he had the knowledge. He needed the blood wards. Do you? Why not just go
live in Grimmauld Place? It’s not like the blood wards protected you this year. Voldemort was still
able to get into your mind, still able to possess you. He has your blood in him now.

Harry had to admit that the voice in his head had a point. It was something to consider. After he
confronted his dad, what would he do next? Could he really go back to the Dursleys? Was he
willing to risk his safety completely by going without the blood wards? After thinking about it for a
long time Harry decided that was yet another decision that could be made post-punching.

When the pizza showed up Harry happily distracted himself by consuming all of it at a rapid
enough pace to make Ron look polite. He threw the empty box in the trash can, only one corner of
it really fit, so he was forced to bend the cardboard, not at all a difficult task. With his stomach full
of food and his mind of thoughts, Harry went to sleep.

That night, like most nights, Harry was plagued by dreams. Sirius falling through the veil, a bright
green light engulfing Cedric’s chest. They danced across his mind and kept him tossing and
turning. By the time the morning broke Harry was covered in sweat and he had a headache. Which
was really not the proper way to start his first day in New York.
Harry stumbled into the overly large bathroom and took a long hot shower. When he stepped out of
the shower his skin was pinked from the heat and steam. Carefully he wrapped a towel around his
waist and stopped in front of the mirror. Staring back at him with bags under his eyes was a boy
covered in scars. There was the one on his face, the large puncture wound from the basilisk, plenty
of scars from Vernon and Dudley that he’d acquired over the years, some of the scars he’d gotten
from the Tri-wizard tournament, and not to mention the one on the back of his hand.

Harry didn’t normally think about it. He didn’t like to. Normally when someone thought about a
person being covered in scars it was a solider or maybe a criminal. Someone who’d lived a tough
life. No one thought about a kid. Because that’s all he was really at the end of the day. A kid with
too many scars and too many memories. Harry sighed, his head hitting the mirror. It was okay. Or
maybe, it was going to be.

He glanced down at the tattoo on his wrist and felt better. His friends didn’t care that his skin was
made up of more red lines than pale white. He rubbed the mark and left the bathroom to go get
dressed. As he dressed he reminded himself of the plan that he and his friends concocted. The plan
was to spy on Avengers tower and find a way to break in and out. He needed to determine if there
were magical wards on the building, or muggle cameras.

Once he knew, he’d come up with a plan, and then he’d punch Loki. After Harry was dressed he
started prepping for the day. He put a glamor on that made him a blonde, tanned his skin, and
covered his scars. Once he was sure that most people wouldn’t recognize him, he packed his
backpack and started the first day of surveillance.

For the next three days Harry spent his time under different disguises trying to figure out the best
way to get into the tower. He couldn’t find any magical protection but it wasn’t like the tower
needed it. There were cameras everywhere, electronic locks on the doors, and Harry was pretty
sure there were muggle weapons hidden in the walls. He couldn’t think of a way to sneak in other
than going under the invisibility cloak and hoping for the best. Or totally wrecking the place.

When he called his friends on the hotel phone, they both told him that he’d figure something out.
He hadn’t come all this way for nothing. Which Harry agreed with. There was no way he was
going to leave New York without confronting his dad. But that didn’t help with the fact that his
dad was making that almost impossible. Was it on purpose? Harry couldn’t say. He didn’t want to
believe that his dad knew he was alive and was actively avoiding him. But a part of him feared it.

The days passed and the longer Harry went without an idea the more frustrated he grew. Who
knew revenge was so hard to get? By the time the first week had ended Harry kept tugging at his
hair in agitation as he glared at the tower. He knew he wasn’t much of a planner. Harry preferred to
move on instinct, go head first into trouble and work with what he had in that moment. It got him
hurt (and others too) but trying it this way didn’t seem to be working either.

The sun was starting to set over the city, combined with the skyline it made a beautiful sight. Not
that Harry really cared about that right then. The first day he might have appreciated the sight, now
it represented everything wrong in the world. Things that he couldn’t overcome or figure out.

“It’s like if Draco Malfoy got transfigured into a building.” Harry decided.

Before he could ruminate further on the description part of the tower blew up. Harry flinched and
covered his head as debris flew up and right towards the various buildings surrounding the tower.
When the debris had finished falling Harry looked back at the tower. There was a woman she was
wearing green leather and a black cape. From the distance Harry could see that she was blonde but
not much else.
The important thing about this scene was that she was dragging Thor, the god of thunder, the
Asgardian, the powerhouse, by the hair. The man was trying to grab at something and struggle but
something about his movement seemed sluggish. Harry didn’t even hesitate. He rushed into his
room and pulled his broom right out of his trunk. There wasn’t time to waste putting on a glamor or
doing anything else. He had to get down there now.

He sprinted to the balcony and jumped off the edge, broom in hand. He immediately used the
broom to control his descent. He flew towards the street that was right below Avengers tower.
Below him hundreds of New Yorkers were rushing towards buildings, seeking shelter. In the time
he’d taken to get his broom the other Avengers had gotten out into the street too. Thor was bound
behind the fighting, looking pretty beat up. Harry’s eyes scanned around and saw that his dad was
dueling with the blonde woman, both of them using magic.

He stopped his descent for a moment watching, almost enchanted at the sheer skill his dad had. He
was teleporting and using illusions and spells Harry had never even dreamed of. Harry wandlessly
cast a powerful notice-me-not charm on himself and flew until he was as close to the Avengers and
the fighting as he dared. He hovered behind them as the muggles discussed the villain.

“How long do we wait before we jump her?” Iron Man asked.

“Loki told us to be careful.” Captain America said. “We don’t have any protection against Amora’s
mind control magic.”

So that was her name. Amora. Why was she attacking New York? For that matter why did
everyone attack New York? There were other cities in the world!

“I don’t like this.” Hawkeye said, his hands flexing on a black complicated looking bow.

There was a huge explosion of green magic, Harry looked over to see that his dad had been thrown
back and was now being tied up with ropes of bright red fire. He looked like he was in pain, his
jaw clenched and his body jerking.

“You know.” Amora said, stepping towards his dad. “Finding out about your heritage made this
almost too easy.”

The Avengers all moved to defend Loki but Amora waved her glove covered hand. The asphalt on
the street transfigured into fingers of stone that reached up and trapped all of the Avengers. Some
of them even reached up and covered weapons, keeping them from being trapped against the
Avengers’ bodies.

“Don’t interrupt your betters, mortals.” Amora spat. “This is between me and the princes.”

The Avengers all struggled. Harry could see that stone was cracking under Captain America’s
strength and the Iron Man suit. But every time a bit of stone broke off more grew over it,
strengthening the trap. This was bad. Really bad. He watched as Black Widow managed to get a
knife free and throw it. Only for Amora to bat it out of the way like it was nothing. Amora stood in
front of his writhing father, a smirk on her pretty face.

“Do you like the spell work? I stole it from an old Vanir man, right before I slit his throat.” She
said. “Never thought I’d need it, but it looks like it’s my lucky day.”

His dad jerked, testing the fire burning into his armor and skin.

“Don’t be silly, it’ll take you much longer than that to break through, this was designed to cage
monsters like you after all. It’s plenty of time for me to take what’s mine and get away from this
pitiful planet.”

She looked over at Thor with something dark in her eyes. Thor looked terrified even though he
couldn’t seem to move his limbs. Maybe he was under some sort of super powered perfectus
totalis? Harry looked around for the famous hammer, and saw it sitting innocently on its side a few
feet from Amora and Loki. It must have fallen off of Thor’s belt.

Amora turned back and glared down at Loki.

“This is your fault you know. If you’d just let me have Thor when I wanted all those centuries ago
I wouldn’t be here now, ready to destroy everything you know. I’d be queen and you’d be a loyal
servant. Wouldn’t that have been better?”

“As if I’d ever be loyal to someone so similar to a hag.”

The woman snarled at the insult, her hands glowing with deadly green fire.

“You know for that I think I’ll kill you. I was going to let you live, perhaps as a slave, but I think
death might be more appropriate for a creature like you. Who knows the mortals might even thank
me.”

The magic glowed brighter and Harry was moving before he could even stop himself. Harry landed
with a thud right in front of his dad and threw his hands up. Calling on every bit of his magic he
could grab at he cast a wordless protego. A translucent blue shield appeared right in front of him a
moment before green fire engulfed his vision. The flames licked at the sides of the shield but none
of them touched him or his dad. When the spell ended, Harry dropped his shield and used his hands
to shoot a bombarda at the woman. She flew back and crashed into the asphalt a few meters away.
Harry’s chest heaved as he focused on the woman.

He knew that if he tried to duel this woman he would lose. Just shielding against one of her spells
had made him shake with effort. She knew way more magic than him. He might have been a demi-
god but he didn’t have the training to take on a fully realized god. The longer the fight went on the
more likely he’d die. Which would suck, to say the least.

Amora jumped up with a snarl, her hands dripping with malicious magic.

“Who would dare interrupt me?”

“Literally anyone who had ears would want to interrupt you. Your voice is very shrill.”

Had Harry, ever once, in his short sad life, filtered what came out of his mouth? Had there ever
been a time where he’d stopped himself and thought, maybe I shouldn’t say this right now? If the
current situation was any proof. Probably not.

“You ugly little magic user.” She snarled stepping forward.

“Hey. That’s no way to talk about yourself.”

A wave of flame rolled right towards him. Harry threw up another shield, this time an ice based one
that he’d learnt while studying for DA meetings. The ice sizzled but held strong. Once the flame
died, Harry started to walk to the left, towards the hammer and away from his still tied up dad. He
didn’t want his dad or the Avengers to get hit by a stray spell.

“I mean really.” Harry continued. “You might be an awful woman whose body is really only a husk
housing a hole where your heart used to be but that’s no reason to resort to calling yourself ugly.
You are a lady after all.”

No, Harry really didn’t have a brain to mouth filter, did he? Had Dudley hit him too hard in the
head when they were smaller? Was that why he was like this? Amora was focused entirely on him.
Which was good, really good actually. If he could keep distracting her then her focus on the spells
holding the Avengers and her dad would waver. Harry could be a distraction for a few minutes,
couldn’t he?

Amora fired another spell at him, this time it was a magically conjured metal spike, Harry knew
that if he tried to block it, he’d fail. It was too bright, too much. A memory of Professor
McGonagall explaining the power of transfiguration for problem solving echoed through his head.

Remember students. Sometimes we are not powerful enough to stop something, but we can always
change it.

Harry spread out his hands and focused on the incoming projectile and twisted it. The bright silver
spike began to wiggle and transform, Harry reached out as it neared him and snatched a silver rose
out of the air like a snitch.

“Aw. Look, it’s prettier than you’ll ever be,” Harry said waving the flower at her.

And so it started. Amora fired everything she had at him and Harry transfigured it as quickly as he
could and dodged what he couldn’t change. A spell designed to blind him was turned into a spray
of glitter. A wave of water made to drown was turned into bubbles. Ropes sent to tie up were
turned into snakes that listened when he hissed at them to go away. Rocks that were lifted up from
the earth and thrown with great force were transfigured into pillows.

The more Harry defended himself, the angrier Amora got. With her anger her magic turned
sharper, and became harder to change. Harry’s feet were becoming unsteady as sweat dripped
down his face and neck. The woman flung a spell that looked like it was made of air, Harry moved
to dodge and ended up tripping. He landed on his side with a painful thud. He looked over and saw
that he’d tripped on his uncle’s hammer.

He rolled over and grabbed the hammer. He tucked himself up and jumped into the air. The
hammer hummed like static in his hand. It felt like he’d put his hand inside an electrical socket.
Amora actually paused in her relentless attack.

“Impossible. A mere mortal couldn’t…”

Harry didn’t let her finish. Instead he flung the hammer as hard as he could right towards her. Harry
might have not had a lot of experience throwing hammers, or really throwing anything, that didn’t
stop the hammer’s aim from being true. Harry was pretty sure it was because it was magic. The
hammer hit her dead in the chest, an awful crunching sound echoing down the street. The breath
was knocked out of her and she landed on the ground, her head and back slamming into the street
with a slap. Harry waited for her to get up, but she didn’t.

Slowly Harry edged forward, he saw that she was breathing but based on the sounds he heard and
the fact that she wasn’t moving he was pretty sure she was unconscious. His limbs suddenly felt
like noodles, he’d won. How in Merlin’s name had he won? Harry could remember losing duels to
fourth years during DA lessons. It didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense. He blinked rapidly
trying to make the world stop spinning. His body swayed back and forth and his head felt too light.

“Hey kid!” Iron Man yelled, the face plate on his suit removed so that his voice was clearer. “You
okay?”
“I should be dead. She should’ve killed me.” Harry said, loud enough for the other humans to hear.
“How am I not dead?”

“Think about that after you’ve helped us!” Hawkeye yelled.

“Hawkeye.” Captain America chastised. “Not appropriate. He’s just a kid.”

Harry lifted a hand over to his mouth to stifle the practically hysteric giggles that were trying to
escape. He took in a deep breath and tried to clear his mind. Right. Helping the Avengers.

“Just…Just a minute.” He said.

Harry bent down and picked up the hammer. If the lady woke up he’d need it so he could throw it
at her again. Harry felt like he was maybe forgetting something about the hammer that was still
sending pleasant tingles down his arm. He looked around and decided to go help Thor first, if he
could. After all it was the man’s hammer that meant he was alive at all right then. He stumbled
over to the man, still feeling dizzy and weird.

“Thank you, brave warrior.” Thor rumbled.

“What’d she do to you?” Harry asked, ignoring that really weird greeting.

“The bands on my wrists. They’ve taken my strength.”

Sure enough there were golden bands digging tightly into the god’s skin. Harry knelt down and
tried to tug them off. When that didn’t work he looked over at the hammer, and then at Thor. The
question obvious. Thor looked thoughtful for a moment before speaking.

“It should work. Just don’t hit too hard. I don’t need broken wrists.”

“You sure you’re not the god of not-at-all comforting words?”

“I could be that too.”

Harry snorted as he moved the hammer right above one of the bands. Carefully as he could he
swung down, pleased to see that it caused the band to crack. Harry quickly used his fingers to tear
and rip the metal apart. Apparently, this super strength was good for something after all. He did it
for the other band. Once he was free Thor sat up, looking more unsteady than Harry did. Thor kept
looking at Harry like he recognized him from somewhere. Apparently, his resemblance to Loki
was more than skin deep.

“Here.” Harry said standing up and holding out his hand.

“I don’t know…” Thor clearly thought he was as weak and scrawny as he looked.

“Just take my hand.”

Thor did, and Harry then pulled him up. Harry used his second hand to stabilize the man. Once
Thor looked like he wasn’t going to fall, Harry let go. He walked slowly, right past Loki, and
towards the other Avengers. He heard Thor follow him after a moment. The humans were already
working at getting out. Now that Amora was unconscious her spellwork on them was failing. It was
also failing for Loki as he heard the man slowly getting up on his own.

“Kid you look like you’re about to throw up.”

“I’m fine.” Harry said in a voice that wasn’t at all convincing.

“Of course, he’s fine.” Loki said. “Any magic user with power like that can handle anything.”

“Like you handled it?” Harry asked before he could stop himself. Not that he had tried all that hard.

“Oh snap.” Hawkeye said. “You tell him.”

“I hadn’t expected her to have spells like that.” Loki defended, tense and annoyed at being called
out. “But we all know that your win was down more to luck than any actual skill.”

A muscle in his face twitched violently from his position facing the Avengers. He still hadn’t
looked his dad full in the face. He knew that the moment he turned to face Loki the man would
know. He turned on his heel and glared at the man.

“You know I wonder whose fault that is.”

A gasp tore its way out of Loki’s lips. His eyes widened as he took in his features.

“Harry?” The voice was quiet almost hushed.

“So glad to know you recognize me.”

“No…You’re…You can’t be…”

“Obviously I can. Shows what you know.” Harry folded his arms over his chest, hammer held
carelessly in one hand.

“Harry.”

Loki looked like he was about to cry. For some reason it made Harry irrationally angry. What right
did this man have to cry? He wasn’t the one who’d been orphaned and abused. He wasn’t the one
who’d had to fight Voldemort, the one who had a prophecy over his head. Before he quite realized
what he was doing, he was walking forward. His fist formed the shape Ginny had carefully taught
him, with the thumb out.

BAM!

Loki’s back arched back as the force of Harry’s punch sent him tumbling to the ground. Harry’s
hand smarted from the pain, and there was some blood on his hand from Loki’s now broken nose.
Behind him he heard Thor and the others make noises of shock.

“That’s for…everything!” Harry said.

Loki started to sit up, a hand covering his bleeding nose. His blue eyes were wide with shock.
Harry didn’t let him say anything.

“I’m…I’m done.”

He turned on his heel. Carefully he lifted up his hand and wandlessly summoned his broom. He
looked over at the Avengers who looked like they were trying to decide what to do. Harry looked
down at the hammer in his hand. He threw it at Thor who caught it easily. Harry wondered if Loki
would even tell them who he was. He decided in that moment not to give him a choice. He reached
into his pocket and fingered the card to his hotel room. If he pressed the top in a certain spot it
would portkey him home.

“By the way, nice hammer, Uncle Thor.”

He pressed the key and disappeared without even a crack to announce he was leaving. A moment
later Harry found himself back in his hotel room. His stomach rolled and he threw himself off the
bed. He rushed towards the bathroom and planted himself firmly in front of the toilet. It took a few
minutes of dry and not so dry heaving until he let himself fall onto his side. The cool of the tile felt
like ice on his sweaty skin. Wasn’t punching Loki supposed to make him feel better?
 Mother's Bracelets
Chapter Summary

Loki's side of the story is finally revealed with the help of some tricky jewelry but is it
the whole truth?

Chapter Notes

Hey everyone! Thanks for the great comments for the last update. I enjoyed talking
with a bunch of you, you had some great ideas and scenes to share! I hope this update
lives up to your expectations.

“UNCLE?”

Thor’s voice boomed down the empty street. Loki didn’t react, the man had one hand outreached
trying to grab at the air where his son used to be. His son. Oh Odin, his son was alive. His beautiful
baby boy. The light of his universe. The thing that made life worth living. The reason he’d gotten
up in the morning, and the reason he’d gone to bed. His everything. His child. The child he thought
lost to death, along with his beloved wife.

He stood there, trying to will the boy back into the street, so he could pull him into a hug and never
let go.

“Loki.” Thor said. “What was that human talking about?”

Loki kept staring blankly ahead. His son was alive. But that meant…he’d been alone. Loki had left
his precious star alone on this planet, he’d grown up without his father to guide him. His face
twisted painfully at the thought. No wonder his son had punched him. Loki rather deserved it.

“Loki!” Thor grabbed Loki by the shoulders and shook him.

“What are you doing?”

“A human just called me uncle. I think I’m allowed to panic.”

“He isn’t a human.” Loki denied. “Well he is half.”

Thor made a choking sound as the implication hit him full in the face.

“Reindeer games, are you telling me you got freaky with a human? Did the horizontal monster
mash? That kid didn’t look older than 18.” Tony asked.

Thor made another pained noise.

“Your trip to Alfheim! You were gone for decades!”

“Alfheim, Midgard. What’s the difference really?”

“EVERYTHING!” Thor yelled. “Alfheim is the magical capital of the nine realms. You told father
you were going there to study magic. What were you doing instead? Pranking humans?”

“Well sometimes.” Loki admitted before lifting up two hands. “In my defense, I did also study
magic.”

“Because that makes this so much better! Don’t you know what you’ve done? A demi-god hasn’t
been born in centuries!”

“Okay.” Steve said. “What’s a demi-god and why is Thor freaking out about it?”

“A demi-god is a child that’s born with one parent from this planet and one parent who is a god.”
Loki defined, as if Steve was an idiot for asking.

“Demi-gods.” Thor said, his voice growling. “Are either extreme forces for good or bringers of
destruction. Mixing humans and gods somehow produces a child that is more powerful than both
parents combined. If a demi-god decides to be a hero then no evil can defeat them but if they
decided to go rogue? Nothing can stop them.”

Thor sent a glare at Loki that Loki ignored. Nothing could destroy his buoyant mood. His son was
alive!

“So, Loki’s kid is going to be the ultimate evil?” Natasha asked, her voice questioning.

That snapped Loki out his giddiness almost immediately.

“You all are forgetting that he just saved our lives and he did it wielding that!” Loki said
dramatically gesturing at Mjolnir. “Don’t you dare speak poorly of my son. You will regret it.”

“Did he or did he not just break your nose?” Tony asked.

“Oh, he did.” Loki said. “And from his perspective I certainly deserved it.”

Thor pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment, a move that was so similar to their mother,
enough that Loki almost felt like apologizing.

“Could you please, for once in your life, give me a clear explanation?”

Loki considered that, and he thought about the hurt in his son’s voice. He was going to need help if
he was going to bridge the gap.

“I suppose since I’m in such a good mood I’ll tell you the truth.” Loki decided. “but first we should
imprison Amora.”

“As agreed.” Thor said. “I’ll take her back to Asgard. Our cells will be able to hold her.”

Loki frowned for a moment, thoughtful.

“Thor don’t tell anyone there about my son. Please. You know the…prejudice against people like
him.” Loki said. “He can lift Mjolnir we know he’s a good child. I’ve always known it but you
can’t deny that.”

Thor looked at him for a moment before nodding in agreement.

“I want the full story.” He said. “Nothing left out just because you want to be tricky.”

“Deal. You’ll get every nitty gritty detail. You can even borrow one of those bracelets from mother
if you’re so concerned about the truth.”

Thor’s eyes widened at that, but the fact was that there was nothing shameful about his life as
James Potter. There were things he regretted, things he had cursed himself over, but that had been
perhaps the happiest time of his life. If Thor required honesty, then Loki was going to ensure he
had it. Anything for his son.

“Very well.” Thor said. “I’ll be back soon.”

“What bracelets are you talking about?” Steve asked.

“Mother’s specially enchanted bracelets ensure the wearer must tell the complete truth. While
wearing them I couldn’t even say things that are technically true but deliberately misleading.”

“Why aren’t we forcing Loki to wear those all the time?” Tony joked.

“Diplomatic issues mostly. Mother tried having politicians wear them and it didn’t end well.” Thor
admitted. “I told one of the visiting noblewomen that I thought she has a horse-face.”

“In your defense her face was very horse like.” Loki recalled with a grimace.

“Right so no brain to mouth filter, got it.”

“Do be careful about what you ask me.” Loki told them. “I’ll be obliged to tell you in
excruciatingly honest detail.”

Thor grimaced, he was doing that a lot lately, as he moved towards Amora, who was still knocked
out cold. He picked her up and slung her body over his shoulder, almost carelessly. Loki smirked
at the fear in Thor’s eyes. His brother would learn not to ask for the truth from him. They all told
Thor goodbye as he lifted his hammer up to call for the Bifrost. Once all that was left was burnt
runes in the street, Loki turned back to the tower.

“You know Stark. I’ll make you a deal.”

“What?”

“I fix your tower by the time Thor gets back if you use your skills to destroy all the footage of my
son’s actions today.”

“What? Why?”

“Do you not think a small child deserves some privacy and the right not to be chased down by
SHIELD like a criminal?”

The man rolled his eyes but agreed, before swearing that it wouldn’t happen if his tower didn’t
look brand new. Loki rolled his eyes. Brand new his ass.

“Just watch this.”

Thirty minutes later Loki was sitting inside the penthouse of a perfectly intact tower with a now
healed nose. He was drinking pumpkin juice, he had some stored somewhere and he felt like it was
appropriate. Stark was staring stupidly at the newly repaired walls, touching them to make sure
they weren’t illusions. Loki was amused by the stupefaction, but it was getting a little old.
“Don’t you have something to be doing Stark?”

“How did you do this?”

“Magic obviously.”

“But I thought magic was just a fighting technique!” The man whined.

“In Asgard that’s certainly true. Part of the reason I wasn’t wanted around was because I dared to
use magic for something more than killing people.”

“Like pranks.” Clint added.

“Well yes.” Loki said. “To be honest I wouldn’t have done so many of them if they weren’t so very
funny. Now, please would you mind fulfilling your end of the deal.”

“Why the hell haven’t you done this before?”

“Never do something for nothing.”

Tony made a very upset noise but did finally get started on clearing away any incriminating
footage. By the time Thor returned, golden bracelets of truth in hand, Tony was nearly done. Thor
looked around at the completely fixed tower and then gave Loki a surprised look.

“Have you finally decided to be a good team member, Loki?”

“The very idea is making me break out into hives.”

“You know father won’t end your punishment until you’ve proven that you regret what you did and
that you love humanity for what it is.”

“No proof I could give Odin will mean anything.” Loki said airily.

“Are you really going to put those on?” Natasha asked. “We could ask you anything.”

“You could.” Loki allowed, thinking about the various uncomfortable topics they could interrogate
him on. “But you’ll also get answers on anything you ask.”

That warning made her nod after a moment. Loki might have been the god of lies but that also
meant he was the god of truth. One had to know the truth completely in order to lie as well as he
did. Thor told them that Amora was locked up tightly and awaiting trial. Loki knew she’d probably
escape but he hardy cared what she did as long as she didn’t bother him or his son. Everyone
gathered on the couches in what Loki was beginning to consider the story time circle. Thor held out
the bracelets with a slightly stunned look on his face.

“Before I put these on.” Loki said. “I’d suggest you let me tell my story with as few interruptions
as you can manage. If you ask me a question I’ll have to answer it completely. We’ll be here for
the next thousand years if you interrupt as often as you normally do. Can you do that?”

“I’ll keep Tony quiet.” Bruce promised.

The man had been knocked out almost immediately when Amora arrived, before he could even
transform. He’d recovered by the time Harry had finished defeating Amora, punched Loki and
disappeared. Tony made a betrayed noise, but Loki only snorted and then snapped the bracelets
onto his bare wrists. He immediately felt the magic flooding his mind. He waited for a few
moments before beginning.
“It started out as a trip to Alfheim, this would have been about 40 years ago. I’d convinced father it
would be better for everyone if I left for a time to study magic somewhere else.” Loki told them.
“The first few years I really was in Alfheim studying, but I got bored. I heard a rumor that some of
the light elves were sensing magic on Midgard but couldn’t find any magic users to explain the
surges.”

“There are human magic users?” Tony demanded before Bruce was able to slap his hand over his
mouth.

“Licking on my hand won’t make me move it Tony.”

“Yes, there are millions of human magic users.” Loki answered, glaring at Tony for asking a
question he was literally about to answer. “They’re all over the world, they’ve always been there
from the beginning. Your ignorance on the subject is due to the fact that 400 years ago nonmagical
humans began hunting magic users, primarily children who couldn’t defend themselves. The
witches and wizards at the time decided to protect themselves and future generations. They used
powerful magic to rip the knowledge of their existence out of everyone’s minds, in all the realms,
and even more magic to hide their cities, towns, and homes. They’ve lived in complete secrecy on
this planet ever since. If anyone who isn’t magical, or directly related to someone magical, finds
out about this world their memories are erased through magic. Magic users have their own
governments and cultures. Everything is based on magic and anyone without isn’t allowed.”

“Holy fuck.” Stark interrupted again.

“Language.” Steve chastised.

“It’s a 400 year old secret society and you’re telling me to watch my language?”

“What about us?” Clint asked. “Are our minds going to get erased?”

“As long as you pretend not to know, then no one will bother you.” Loki answered. “I could
possibly fill out the proper government forms to gain you access but that would take time. In that
time, you’d need to keep your lips zipped.”

“Why would you be able to fill out forms? You’re not a citizen.” Natasha asked.

Loki groaned at their complete incapability to not ask questions.

“I was a citizen for 22 years, I was born as James Charlus Potter 38 years ago. I lived solely as
James for 22 years. I had parents, friends, a job, a family, a human education. I lived in Britain
during that time which is why my All-Speak is accented in the way that it is compared to Thor’s.
Now would you idiot humans please let me tell you this in order? I will use magic to silence you if
I have to.”

They agreed again to being quiet and Loki sighed and continued. He told them about traveling to
earth to discover why there was magic but no magic users. He literally stumbled upon the magical
world and was metaphorically enchanted. Everything there was magical. It was chaotic and
unpredictable. Humans so entrenched in magic that they couldn’t imagine a life without it. It was
everything Loki had ever wanted, this was what paradise was.

It didn’t take Loki long at all to decide he had to join this world. Alfheim and Asgard could go
hang themselves.

“Brother.” Thor said. “That’s not very kind.”

“And yet it’s true. Asgard can go hang itself.”

Thor rolled his eyes but didn’t argue the point further. Loki smirked. The story moved on. He
decided to take on a human form and as he planned it out soon stumbled upon a magical couple
who wanted a child but couldn’t have one. Loki decided to answer their prayers. He told them
about his plan to become human, to learn what it was to be fully immersed in magic.

“So, you actually wanted to be human?” Steve asked. “What happened to us being ants?”

Loki glared at him.

“Humans aren’t ants.” Loki answered. “Your lives are more like fireflies. So very very short
compared to my own but bright and vibrant in a way I can’t often compete with. Humanity
experiences the full gambit of existence in a way that is so visceral and true that I cannot help but
feel nothing but awe when I consider it. It is true that you often lack foresight, you are quick to
anger and capable of true atrocities. Evil lives in your hearts just as much as goodness does.
Humanity is greedy and cruel, selfish and violent. But it is also kind and loving. I learnt more from
my time being a human than I did as my entire centuries as a god. In my time as James Potter I
experienced love, loyalty and joy that is incomparable to my time as Loki.”

All of the humans were looking at him with some sort of awe or perhaps even disbelief. Loki
wanted to stop speaking he wanted to pull the words back but it was too late. They’d already been
said.

“But it was during that time that I also experienced pain, regret, and rage unlike any other.
Humanity taught me what it was to truly hate, to loathe with every fiber of my being. It was here
that I learnt to despise humanity and everything that you are. Because for everyone one purely
good person you produce, you also create thousands of evil little rats who try to extinguish
everything good in your world.” Loki continued his voice becoming absolutely scathing. “Even
now you humans prove your cruelty. After explaining to you clearly that this would be difficult
enough you purposefully ask questions. Not to gain knowledge but to see me suffer. Even the so-
called greatest heroes of earth feel pleasure at seeing me talk about my own suffering. You haven’t
even asked questions to learn, no it is only for your own short-sighted pointless amusement. You
will comfort yourselves, justifying what you’re doing by saying that I was the one who invaded
your planet. But it doesn’t justify this. It never will. Nothing can justify joy at another’s suffering.”

“Stop.” Thor ordered, finally silencing Loki’s tirade. “Loki. Did you invade Midgard for revenge
against the pain you felt as James Potter?”

“No.” Loki said.

“Was it to gain revenge against me or father?”

“It wasn’t about revenge!” Loki shouted. “It had nothing to do with me!”

He stood up, the words poured out of his mouth.

“I am a 2000 year old master strategist! I have won hundreds of battles for Asgard with nothing but
my cunning! And yet! When given the opportunity to invade an entire planet with a near infinite
army what do I do? I actively alert the only people who could stop me, blatantly revealed my plans
and allowed Selvig to put in an off switch to the portal! Then to top off this brilliant fucking plan I
purposefully bottlenecked my military force to the point that 6 individuals could hold them off!
What a genius plan! Truly my greatest work yet!”
The others looked shocked but now that it was out, Loki was going to let them know.

“I tried to kill myself when I let go of Odin’s spear.” Loki told Thor. “I wanted to die. Everything
in my mind at that point was begging for an end to it all. Jokes on me though because I didn’t die
as I fell through the void of space, instead I was found.”

Loki ran a hand through his carefully styled hair, messing it up like he used to do as James all the
time. The hair started to stand up in a mess. The longer he talked freely, the more like James he
began to act. Free with his movements and looser.

“I mean fuck Thor.” Loki said, his voice twisting. “What do you even think happened to me?
You’ve never asked. I was found by a monster. The Mad Titan. He wants to destroy half of all life
in the universe in some idiotic demented plan for balance. He travels now from planet to distant
planet committing genocide! He halves the population at random and makes one half watch while
he drenches the other half in their own blood.”

No one interrupted him now as he started to pace rapidly and talk with his hands. It was the same
way he’d describe the newest quidditch maneuver to his team.

“Thanos needs the tesseract if he was going to complete his goal. Going from planet to planet isn’t
efficient, he needed more fire power, he needed the ability to destroy all life with a snap of his
fingers. The tesseract was a part of that. I knew what destruction he could cause with them. Despite
what you may think I am a god of chaos not destruction, not death. This wasn’t what I wanted.”

Loki flipped around, he knew he must have looked like a madman but he couldn’t stop, the
bracelets made him, compelled him.

“Thanos wanted the tesseract. He knew I could get it for him. I could travel the energy pathways of
the universe from his home to earth. I knew earth intimately. I had lived there for 22 years! I could
get the tesseract quicker and faster than any of his loyal servants. He told me to get it for him or
suffer. I told him to fuck off. He tortured me. I told him to fuck off harder. I wasn’t going to
decimate the planet where I spent the best years of my life! The planet my wife lived on! Even if it
was the planet my wife was brutally murdered on.”

Someone, probably Thor, made a chocking noise but Loki paid them no mind.

“Ever since my wife’s murder I’ve felt so much rage. Thanos saw that rage, rage at humanity, at
this planet for taking away the most perfect woman in the universe.” Loki said. “All these years I
thought that the man who’d murdered my wife had destroyed my son too. I hated this world so
much for taking my family from me. Thanos saw that rage, he saw that thirst for vengeance. He
promised me revenge. I told him to choke. Then he…he used that scepter. He didn’t put me under
mind control, no I know how to throw that off. He did something much worse. He made me forget.
He made me forget my wife and child. He made me forget my friends, my human loved ones. He
only left the pain and rage behind. Then he gave me that scepter and an army and told me to go.
Get my revenge and bring him the tesseract.”

Loki finally turned back. Thor looked absolutely devastated and horrified. The rest of the humans
were in a similar state. Loki scoffed and continued.

“Remember Thor, when you first met with these humans and they called me crazy? What was it
you said? Oh right ‘his mind is far afield.’ That’s what it was. Then what did you do after that? Did
you decide to investigate? Figure out why I was attacking a planet in a way that was so different to
my normal patterns? Or did you decide that obviously the only reason I do anything is because of
you.”
Loki growled and continued. His pacing was getting more erratic. He stepped up onto the armchair
he had been sitting and then down on the other side.

“Nothing made sense once I got to earth. I knew I wanted revenge but why? What had the humans
done to me? Why was I serving Thanos? Was I serving Thanos? Whose side was I on? If I was on
Thanos’ side, then I didn’t want to fail but what if I wasn’t? Why didn’t anything make sense? I
stalled, I tricked, I waited trying, to make sense of anything. I made the plan as porous as I dared.
Something told me the invasion was wrong, but I still wanted the world to burn. Rage pushed me
past the quiet voice in my mind that begged me to stop.” Loki admitted. “It wasn’t until Banner
threw me into the floor multiple times that I remembered. The voice in my head was my wife and I
had ignored her. I failed to protect her world, the world she loved so much.”

“Why didn’t you tell us after you got sent here for your punishment?” Steve asked.

“I never admit to failure. Doesn’t look good for the image. Besides what would it have changed? I
wasn’t mind controlled like Barton. I did all that I did under my own will.” Loki said. “I chose to
invade the earth. I chose to kill those people. It was my fault! I didn’t listen to my instincts. I knew
something was wrong, but I let my rage control me anyway. The truth does nothing but make you
pity me. I hate pity.”

“Were you ever going to mention this Mad Titan?” Natasha asked.

“I suppose once he got here, I’d have told you yes. He will come here for the tesseract eventually
after all.”

“He’s coming here?”

“Almost certainly.”

“Putting that aside for later.” Steve said. “Loki would you please finish telling us about your son?
Then we can get those bracelets off of you. You mentioned you thought he was dead?”

Loki nodded and finally retook his seat. The Avengers had finally decided to stop interrupting him.
So, Loki was able to finish the entire thing. Starting from being reborn in a human body, this was
done by injecting his soul into an empty fetus while storing his real body in Alfheim. That way if
Heimdall looked for him he’d see Loki’s body in Alfheim, not on Midgard. Loki had placed spells
on his soul that would hide his previous memories of being Loki up until he was an adult human,
that way he could truly immerse himself.

He continued telling them about his three best friends and the group of troublemakers they formed
in magic school. He spoke fondly of his human parents. He even mentioned his bitter childhood
rivalry with Severus Snape. Eventually he got to Lily, the girl who had stolen his heart at first
glance. He monologued for a good five minutes about her numerous qualities, her beauty, her
poise, her laugh, her eyes, her kindness, her compassion, her empathy, her temper, the way she
always smelt like roses and white chocolate. He would have continued if Tony hadn’t pulled him
back on track with a joke and another question.

He spoke of growing up, finally becoming mature enough to be worthy of Lily’s friendship and
eventually romantic affection. He told them about Hogwarts and learning magic and mischief. He
painted the perfect picture of his life. Then he painted the down turn. He told them of the war, of
Voldemort’s plan. He told them that he wouldn’t say the name unless they forced him because it
was jinxed, any still living followers of the man would be alerted to their location if he said it out
loud. Thankfully they didn’t ask.
He described in great detail the atrocities Voldemort and his Death Eaters committed. The homes
burned, the children murdered, the women raped. Voldemort and his forces had a 50 year
stranglehold on the magical world. His voice broke when he told them that his parents, who had
always stood up against him, were murdered for it when he was 17. By the time he graduated Loki,
his friends and Lily had all signed up to fight against him.

He told them about fighting a guerilla war for the next five years. His childhood stolen away both
by the returning memories of being a god but also the war that filled his every waking moment.
With the added knowledge of being Loki, his disgust and anger at Voldemort grew. How dare this
man attempt to destroy what was possibly the most perfect place in all the nine realms?

The story continued with his wedding, done in secret with only a few people attending. He nearly
cried when he mentioned his promise to Lily to give her a spectacle when it was all over. Then he
got to the baby, his lovely, perfect Harry. They went into hiding before he was born, desperate to
protect their son. Loki’s use of his increased magical power and knowledge and Lily’s own skill
had made them targets. Dumbledore had advised them to go into hiding and so they did.

The story ended with the Halloween night that destroyed everything. Voldemort finding them
somehow.

“I died first. I tried to get my wife and son to safety. Tried my best. But truly, by my own design, I
was only human.” Loki said, looking hard at the wall. “When he hit me with the killing curse my
soul left my human body and fled straight back to this one, still waiting in stasis. I woke up in
Alfheim and I hurried as fast as I could home, praying to the norns, to Odin, to anyone that my wife
was able to hold You-Know-Who off long enough for me to get back. But I failed.”

“What happened?” Thor asked, his voice heavy with grief. The sky outside was gray and dark,
thunder rumbled in the distance. Loki swallowed and began to describe the destroyed home. The
cottage he’d built himself just for his family, now just a husk almost beyond recognition. His own
dead body on the stairs, Lily’s still corpse inside a destroyed nursery. A devastatingly empty crib.
The smell of the killing curse ripe in the air.

“I searched for days on my own trying to find my son, trying to find my friends. But I couldn’t.
Finally, I went to Albus, my leader, the man I had followed to the end and I begged him to tell me.
He had to know where my son was. I wanted to take Harry home to Asgard, mourn in peace there
with what family I had left.” Loki said. “Albus told me that my friends had been killed by You-
Know-Who, that he’d done it before going to my home. He told me that Lily had managed to
destroy You-Know-Who but at the cost of her life and our son’s life. Everything was gone.”

Loki felt weak, empty, thinking about those horrible days.

“Shit.” Tony said. “From Harry’s perspective, once he figured out you were his dad and alive, you
abandoned him. No wonder he punched you on sight.”

“Seeing him alive is the greatest gift I’ve ever been given. I don’t know how but I’m too afraid to
question it.” Loki admitted. “I’m going to find him and tell him the truth, gain his forgiveness in
any way I can. If I can’t get it, then I’ll protect him from afar. I’m not going to fail him ever
again.”

And that was that. Loki looked at all of them and quickly popped the truth bracelets off.
Immediately he felt more like himself, with the magic messing with his mind gone.

“It’s late and story time with Loki is over.”

“Wait.” Tony said. “How are you going to find your son? Last time you tried magic and it didn’t
work. What if whatever’s hiding him is still there?”

Loki didn’t want to consider that. He frowned for a moment. What had kept him from magically
finding Harry the first time? Who had hidden him away?

“I’m sure I’ll be able to find him.”

“Let me help. I already have his face from about a thousand different angles thanks to Jarvis’
cleaning. If he walks in front of a security camera, I can find him.”

“That would be appreciated.” Loki said after a moment. “Thank you.”

“Hey, I just want to know if he’s going to punch you again. You all saw that punch, right? It was
perfect.”

Suddenly the tension broke, half of the humans started to laugh. Loki grinned and rubbed the ridge
of his nose to chase away phantom pains. It had been a spectacular punch. Once the laughter died
down Loki spoke again, thoughtfully.

“I might actually need your help Thor, for something else. I really doubt my son is going to want to
talk to me.”

“Then what do you need me for?” Thor asked.

“He called you uncle, didn’t he?”

 Trip to the Arcade
Chapter Summary

Harry decides to do some exploring of New York City before heading back to Britain
and facing whatever consequences await him there. Too bad he didn't plan on facing
consequences on this continent.

Chapter Notes

Thank you all so much for the amazing comments on this story! I've really enjoyed
responding to the ones that I've managed to find the time to do so, you're reactions
have been amazing and every time I get an email letting me know I have a comment it
brightens my day! I hope you enjoy this extra long chapter.

Harry spent the next few days just recovering. He’d used so much more magic than he’d thought
fighting Amora and it had taken its toll. He was pretty sure Hermione would have made him go to
see a healer. Ron might have let him get away with sleeping it off, but not without some Weasley
styled mothering. Neither of them were with him so it was rather easy to just lay in bed,
unconscious, for a full day. The next day he pulled himself out of the bed to consume two full
meals in the same number of hours, only to then pass out again.

It wasn’t until the third day post god-punching incident that he felt human enough to move. He
showered, brushed his teeth, and tried to get his hair under control. Was it just him or had his hair
become even more untameable after he broke the spells Loki had placed on him? Harry couldn’t
prove that, it might have just been that now that he had perfect eyesight the eyesore that was his
hair was more obvious.

Slowly, as if he’d been placed under a time spell, he dressed. His brain felt like mush. He wasn’t
sure what to do now. Hermione had mentioned on the train that he should consider asking the
Avengers for help with the Voldemort issue. But he’d seen them against a magic user. It hadn’t
been good. Maybe if it was a human magic user then they’d have a better shot but the last thing he
wanted was to get any of them killed.

So maybe he should just go back to Britain. At the same time the very idea made his stomach twist.
Harry glanced at the bed. Maybe it would be better to just lay down and melt into the mattress.
Forget about everything and become nothing. Even as the thought entered his head he knew it was
stupid. He felt guilty for even considering it. He couldn’t abandon the world to Voldemort. Not
when he was the only one who could save anyone from him.

Harry shuffled over to the balcony and looked out on the city. Most everything had been repaired
from what he could see. Maybe his dad had used magic. Or maybe being a billionaire meant that
you could get your tower fixed instantaneously. Harry wouldn’t know, thanks to all the money his
parents and Sirius had left him he was only a millionaire. Harry huffed a laugh and ran a hand
through his hair. He might as well be a tourist for a bit. It couldn’t hurt anything to take time to
think through his next step.

Harry left the hotel and started wandering, he didn’t want to use magic and went by foot around the
city. His magic still felt a bit shaky. He went into the muggle side of the city to explore instead of
the magical. It was hot outside, much hotter than Harry was used to. Within 30 minutes he realized
that just wandering was liable to make him die of heatstroke. So, Harry snuck into the nearest place
that looked interesting. An arcade.

He’d heard Dudley talk about arcades before, when his cousin turned 7 that had been his birthday
party. Harry had, of course, spent the entire day in the cupboard. Dudley had crowed about how
fun it had been for weeks after, making Harry seethe with want. And now here was an arcade. It
was a huge building, mostly lit by all the games and consoles. The first thing Harry found was an
exchange desk where he could exchange muggle money for coins.

Everything about the place was so different from anything he’d experienced that he decided he
might as well go crazy. A few minutes later Harry had a gigantic plastic cup full of golden coins. It
didn’t take long to find a game he wanted to try. It was a whole set up where you sat in a
motorcycle seat and pretended to drive against other computer players. Sitting on it reminded Harry
vaguely of riding a broom so he put in the required number of coins and off he went.

It really was rather easy compared to flying a broom. Not that it was any less fun. He played a few
races, getting lost in the digital raceways. It was mind numbing but not in the way he’d been before
this whole thing started. Not like how he’d laid in bed and thought of nothing at all. His mind was
still working, and it wasn’t thinking about anything but the game. It was nice. No wonder Dudley
liked it so much.

Within an hour Harry had played about 20 different games. Games of chance, shooting games,
fighting games, reflex games, and puzzle games. He had to use magic a few times to fix the
handles on the controller where he bent them in his excitement but other than that the entire thing
was smooth sailing.

It was when Harry was in the middle of playing a street fighter game that he was sure he’d seen
Dudley playing before that someone interrupted his fun time.

“Do you know how hard you are to find kid?”

Harry froze and looked to the side to see Tony Stark standing in the arcade, like this was
something he did every day. He wasn’t wearing a suit, or even the ironman armor, instead he was
wearing what Harry was sure he deemed ‘casual’. It was comprised of sunglasses worth as much as
his Hogwarts tuition and clothing that was just too nice to be considered normal. The man was
looking at him as if he was the source of all the world’s problems, but in a way that was so
different from Uncle Vernon that it made Harry’s shoulders relax.

Harry turned back to the game and spoke softly.

“Didn’t realize I was hiding.”

“Trust me kid you were and really, it was starting to annoy me. I’m Tony Stark, people don’t just
hide from me.”

“That’s not creepy at all.”

“You’re sassy. I like that.”

“What can I say?” Harry asked. “I just love goading bullies into throwing me into rubbish bins. My
favorite hobby.”

“You have bullies?” The man asked sounding genuinely confused.

“Ha. When haven’t I had those?” Harry asked him, pressing on some of the buttons a little too hard.

“But you’re like…super strong. Plus, we saw you against Amora, you can defend yourself.”

Harry rolled his eyes at the sheer idiocy of that statement.

“What was I supposed to do then Mr. Stark? Anytime anyone bullied me I punch them so hard they
died? Thanks for the advice I always did want to be the second incarnation of Hercules.”

“Right.” The man agreed. “Why not tell an adult?”

“Why do you assume my bullies were my age?”

Silence. Harry turned a little to see Tony Stark in the middle of a grimace. Harry snorted and turned
back to the console.

“Why are you here anyway? This doesn’t seem like your sort of place.”

“I’m here for you, obviously. Your dad-”

“Go away.” Harry said cutting the man off completely. “I’m not talking about him or with him.”

“Look.”

“I said no.”

“You don’t have the full story.”

“I know enough.”

“He didn’t know-”

Harry flipped around letting the game play out behind him.

“He didn’t know I was alive yeah?” Harry asked. “That’s what you’re here to tell me. He thought I
was dead which justifies what he did to everyone else right?”

“I…”

“He had friends! Loved ones! People who cared about him and he left them all thinking he was
dead! He abandoned his home and his people, deserting everything that mattered. Who gives a
fuck about me! That’s not the issue here. The issue is that he’s a selfish, self-absorbed git.”

There was a single pause before Stark whistled in appreciation.

“So, let me get this straight. You’re not made because your dad wasn’t there for you or that you’ve
been alone your whole life. You’re upset because Loki left the rest of the people he cared about to
go back to Asgard.”

Harry gave the man a curt nod, leaning his back against the console. There were noises behind him
letting him know his character had died.

“No shit you can lift that hammer.” The man muttered to himself.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” The man’s eyes widened behind his sunglasses.

“You don’t know about Thor’s hammer?”

“It’s a big magic hammer, what else is there to know?”

Before Tony could explain whatever it was that he wanted to tell Harry about the hammer, Harry
saw something that made his stomach fill with ice. Three figures in dark robes and white masks.
Terrifying skull like faces that reflected the lights of the arcade games in grotesque ways. No one
seemed to notice them as they walked between the aisles. They were looking for something. Or
rather, someone. Harry reached over and slapped a hand over Tony’s mouth. He dragged the
struggling man into a corner.

“What the hell?”

“Shut up.” Harry whispered. “I need you to do what I say. Everyone here is in a lot of danger.”

The man stilled and listened.

“Look over there.” Harry pointed, hoping this would work. “You might not be able to see them but
there are three people in dark robes and white masks.”

The man squinted before speaking.

“I can see these shadows.”

“They’re using magic to hide.” Harry explained. “They’re looking for me and they will kill or
torture everyone in here just for the fun of it. I need your help to get everyone out of here safely.”

“What? Who are these people?”

“Death Eaters.”

“But…”

“The war didn’t just end because my mom died, and Loki got sad about it.” Harry spat, his
frustration with his dad seeping through his voice. “Look please help me? I can distract them and
keep their magic from hurting anyone but only if you start an evacuation. Can you do that?”

“Are you insane? I’m not leaving a kid to fight magical terrorists!”

“So, you’re going to let a bunch of innocent people die?”

The man groaned which Harry took as an agreement.

“Good. Now pull a fire alarm or something while I act as a distraction.”

“I’m calling for help from your dad.”

“Fine. Get everyone out of here first.” Harry said standing up and looking around. He hoped to be
long gone before his dad decided he was worth the effort of showing up for. “Also, one more thing.
If you see a beam of green light coming towards you dodge. If it hits you, you’ll die.”

“That’s some great need to know info there, kid.” Tony said, sounding just a little strained. “Stay
alive. Your dad will kill me if you get hurt.”
Harry rolled his eyes at the thought that the man gave two shits about him. What adult actually
cared about Harry Potter?

“Just go. Hurry please.”

Tony nodded and soon the Avenger was moving through the crowd. Harry waited a few moments
before deciding just to go with it. He walked directly towards the group of Death Eaters. It didn’t
take long for them to notice him.

“It’s Potter!”

Harry did the only thing he could do. He stuck his tongue out and ran in the opposite direction. The
three people chased after him, pushing gamers out of their way with angry grunts. Moments later
the fire alarms went off and water started spraying down on everything. People screamed and
started running towards the entrance. The Death Eaters and Harry were the only ones making their
way deeper into the maze of games.

The first spell was a cutting hex that nearly hit Harry in the back of the neck. It was so powerful it
made the hair on his skin stand up. Alright. They weren’t playing around. Harry could do this.

“It’s just like the DA.” Harry told himself.

Because it was. This wasn’t like with Amora where he was totally outgunned and had to win
through sheer dumb luck. Harry had trained for this. He flipped around and shot a disarming spell
right at the first death eater. It missed and hit a console, causing it to explode in a shower of angry
sparks. Soon the spells really started flying. Dueling against three death eaters was really beyond
his current level of experience, so Harry focused more on ducking and dodging.

Harry used spells when he could, but these Death Eaters had years of dueling experience compared
to him. He did manage to protect fleeing muggles which was really the most important part. A
cracking noise broke his concentration and he flipped around to see more Death Eaters arrive. He
cursed and cast a protego to block the incoming blasting hex. The longer he fought the more Death
Eaters arrived. The magic was totally destroying the arcade, pieces of machinery were in smoking
pieces along the floor. Water was still raining down, making his hair stick to his face and block his
eyesight.

Harry cursed and pulled the wet strands out of the way, just in time to see an incoming killing curse
that he dropped to the floor to dodge. From his position on the ground one of the Death Eaters
managed to hit him with a bruising hex that sent him rolling across the floor. Harry instinctively
cast a cushioning charm that protected his head from banging too hard against one of the still
standing arcade machines.

Harry used a levitation charm to wrench the machine off the ground and throw it right towards the
Death Eaters. This gave him time to jump up and get some cover. The console threw a group of
Death Eaters to the ground and the commotion distracted a few others. Harry ducked behind an old
pinball machine and tried to breathe. The break in the action didn’t last long as a melting jinx hit
the pinball machine and Harry was forced to jump away.

After that it was constant moving and running. Spells danced from his fingertips, sometimes they
worked and sometimes they sputtered into nothing. With each failed spell the Death Eaters seemed
to be getting better at hitting him. Harry was only lucky that being a demigod offered a lot of
protection against low level spells.

The smell of magic was acrid against his nose, it made his eyes water. Not that he could tell with
all of the ice cold water stinging his skin. Blood was running down his arms and chest from
various wounds. The bright red blood looked obscene on his pale skin while it splattered itself all
over the strangely patterned carpet. The air sliced through his lungs with each heave of his chest.
His stomach was rolling and protesting against the strain. He really hadn’t recovered from Amora’s
attack.

Stupefy! Protego! Filpendo! Ventus! Oppungo!

Spells kept coming, Harry desperately trying to keep up with the assault flying at him from what
seemed like all directions. A few Death Eaters were pushing Harry back towards a corner, which
Harry knew from experience with his cousin was a recipe for trouble. He quickly formed a plan to
get out as the corner neared. Once Harry was close enough, he shot out a blinding spell, jumped up
so his feet were planted high against the wall. Then with his hands facing behind him, he cast a
spell.

“Ascendio!”

Just like his fourth year he shot forward at high speeds, up and over the Death Eaters. It wasn’t
until gravity started pulling him down that Harry realized he had no idea on how he was going to
land without knocking himself unconscious. He closed his eyes and prepared for a hard hit. Only to
land safely in two wide arms.

“Nephew!” Thor boomed causing Harry to open his eyes.

The god of thunder had managed to catch Harry perfectly so that he was cradled in the man’s arms.
It was way more comfortable than Harry thought it would be.

“Are you sure now is the time to try flying?”

“Any time is the right time if you don’t worry about the landing.”

Thor laughed while the rest of the Avengers rushed in and started fighting the Death Eaters in a
way Harry couldn’t. Loki, in particular, was like a man possessed. Harry watched for a moment in
awe as the man dispatched Death Eaters in a way Harry could never have replicated. For all his
anger he couldn’t ignore how amazing the man was at dueling.

“Woah.”

“He’s very good, isn’t he?” Thor asked.

“Don’t tell him.” Harry told Thor. “His fat head probably doesn’t need the ego boost.”

“It’ll stay between us.”

They grinned at each other, and Harry realized that Thor still hadn’t put him down. Harry wriggled
a little but that only made Thor lift him up higher to steady his grip.

“You can put me down now.”

“My job is to keep you safe.”

“Which you’re going to do with both of your arms out of commission?” Thor shifted but didn’t
relent, so Harry tried again. Comfortable or not he was not staying like this, it was undignified. “If I
swear to stay right next to you for the entire fight so that you can protect me, will you put me
down?”
“Yes.” Thor said after a moment. “But you’ve got to promise.”

“I promise.” Harry said.

Thor nodded and finally let his feet touch the ground again. Harry carefully moved so that he was
standing next to Thor. The god nodded pleased that Harry hadn’t immediately run off. Like Harry
would do that. He looked out and saw a Death Eater getting ready to hit Captain America with a
crucio. Harry lifted his hand and shot a blasting hex right at him. The Death Eater went flying and
the Captain was safe.

Thor gave him a disapproving look and Harry only lifted an eyebrow.

I promised I’d stay right here, and I will.” A wordless stunning spell fired from his hands right
towards another Death Eater, sending them tumbling to the ground.

“You’re not supposed to draw attention to yourself.” Thor hissed.

Harry lifted up both hands in surrender and turned to stand there next to Thor. The man looked
menacing and was watching like a hawk for potential dangers. It was a little weird. No one had
ever really been that focused on his safety like this. He didn’t really know how to feel about it.

“You will die Harry Potter!” A Death Eater bum rushed them, before Thor could even lift his
hammer Harry shot a wind blasting spell at the man sending him flying into a nearby wall.

“I’m afraid,” Harry said. “that I don’t really have to do anything to draw attention.”

“Why are they trying to kill a child?”

Harry licked his lips and spoke, knowing even as he did that he should really learn to shut up.

“I think it might be dick envy.”

Thor boggled at him, his eyes wide and his jaw dropped. Harry was able to keep his face serious
for about three seconds before he started to howl with laughter. He knew he was in the middle of a
fight with Death Eaters and that he was soaking wet with water and his own blood, but he couldn’t
help it. Thor’s face was just too funny.

“You should have seen your face!”

Thor frowned and pulled Harry over to his side, telling him very sternly to stay there. Harry
continued to giggle but did as he was told. He also ignored Thor’s frowns whenever he used magic
to take pot shots at Death Eaters. Within fifteen minutes of intense fighting the Avengers had
downed the last Death Eater, Loki had then used magic to tie them all up quite tightly so that they
couldn’t escape. At some point in the fighting the fire alarm had turned off and the water had
stopped raining down everywhere. That didn’t mean that everyone wasn’t drenched anyway.

Once Loki finished hog-tying criminals, he turned and started making a bee line towards him and
Thor. Harry just knew the man expected to have some sort of a conversation which he wasn’t
interested.

“Well Thor.” Harry said. “This has been fun, but I really should be go-”

Thor grabbed his shoulder, keeping him in place. Harry sent a very heated glare towards the man
that Thor ignored entirely.
“Harry.” Loki said, his voice cracking. “Are you okay? I came as soon as I could.”

Harry’s bewilderment must have shown because Loki actually stopped trying to catalog his
multiple injuries to look at him.

“I know you’re angry with me right now, but you can’t honestly expect I wouldn’t be worried
about you.”

That was exactly what Harry had thought. He lifted up a disbelieving eyebrow while crossing his
arms over his chest.

“Harry.” Loki repeated sounding very lost. “I didn’t just abandon you here. I thought you were-”

“Which makes everything else better yeah? I was dead so leaving everyone else behind was just
fine?”

Now Loki looked even more confused.

“Who did I leave behind?” He asked. “Albus told me that you and the rest of the Marauders had
been killed. Did you expect me to stay behind for my teachers? Or the other Order Members?”

Harry’s brain whited out, he opened his mouth to speak but nothing could come out. He just stood
there stupidly, his look of outrage still thinly painted on his face.

“Really Harry.” Loki said. “I can’t think of whose honor you are trying to defend. All of my friends
were dead, my wife was dead, and you were missing. Who did I abandon?”

Slowly things started to start moving around in his mind. Dumbledore had told Loki that he was
dead? That Sirius, Remus and Peter were dead? Why would he have done that? Dumbledore was
the one who had hidden Harry at the Dursleys. Hagrid had told him so. But then…why would he
lie about it? Why would he lie to the one person who could have gotten Sirius out of Azkaban,
helped Remus, and taken care of him? And Dumbledore had known that his dad was alive this
whole time? When Harry had begged to go someplace else other than the Dursleys…why had
Dumbledore told him that there was nowhere else?

Harry forced his eyes, that were beginning to dry out, to blink. His dad was still talking, explaining
to Harry that he had searched for him and his friends for weeks before going to Dumbledore for
help. The words washed over him like water over a duck, not a single bit of sticking in his head.

Dumbledore was the one who had put him with the Dursleys. The cupboard under the stairs, the
dirty and worn clothing, the starving nights, the beatings, all of it was because of his headmaster.
He kept sending him back. Why? For the blood wards, to protect him from Voldemort. But his dad
could have. His dad is a god. And Dumbledore knew that.

But Dumbledore also knew the prophecy.

Suddenly it all slapped him in the face. All of it. The reason Hermione had read that book about
demi-gods and refused to share details. The years of suffering at the Dursleys. Dumbledore’s lies.
Sirius never getting a trial. Remus being isolated. Harry’s limited visits to the Weasleys. The
reason the stupid philosopher’s stone was at the school. No one recognizing that Professor Moody
was actually a Death Eater. The fucking sham that was the tri-wizard tournament.

It was the damn prophecy.

Harry’s face twisted painfully as something cracked in him. All of the rage he’d been holding back,
burying deep down inside of him, all of it from the first time his uncle had hit him to being told the
prophecy in the worst possible way. All of that itching burning emotion that had been clawing at
his soul for years. All of it just flooded out.

The walls of the destroyed arcade began to tremble and groan. The ground shook as tiny localized
earthquakes rocked from his feet. The water that had pooled everywhere started to ripple and
violently bubble as Harry’s magic ran away from his control. He felt hot, like he was burning from
the inside out.

All of the Avengers were holding onto something to avoid falling from the tremors and quakes.
Loki pushed Thor out of the way and placed both hands on Harry’s shoulders. He was saying
something, but Harry couldn’t hear, not over the roaring in his ears. Harry felt as if he was choking
on something, he couldn’t breathe. The earth shook harder, to his left a glass window exploded
outwards.

His hands were starting to glow and spark. Uncontrolled magic manifesting itself in anyway it
could. It hurt, everything hurt. Over the tsunami waves of rage Harry started to panic. There wasn’t
enough air and he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t control anything. In front of him Loki was starting to
look frantic. Harry stared at him with wide eyes, begging him for help. He couldn’t do this. It just
kept getting worse and worse.

Another huge tremor rocked the earth sending most everyone to the floor. Only Loki and Harry
remained standing. Stop, stop, stop. He tried to grab onto the magic, pull it back, but it slipped
through his control every single time. Loki grabbed his hands, Harry gripped right back, trying to
ask for help, any help. He knew he was probably holding the man too tight, but Loki didn’t flinch.
Instead he pulled Harry to his chest.

Abruptly everything became quiet, almost as if Harry had gone deaf. Harry blinked and looked, he
saw that Loki’s hands were glow green, some sort of spell was keeping everything back.

“Harry.” Loki said.

“I couldn’t…I don’t…”

“No. It’s okay.” Loki said, soothing. “This happens sometimes when you have a lot of magical
power and you’re put under a lot of stress.”

“I just…I can’t pull it back.” Harry explained his voice cracking.

“Yes, you can.” Loki insisted. “It’s your magic, it’s you. Just breathe, in and out. Follow me. Feel
how I’m breathing, copy me and the magic will settle. Slow down your heart, feel my chest, my
heart is steady and slow. Match me.”

It took longer than Harry liked, trying and failing to copy Loki. The rage didn’t settle, didn’t want
to. Now that it was out, it wanted to stay out. But eventually his heart stopped racing and his lungs
stopped heaving. The magic began to follow his body’s lead. Slowly it trickled back into him,
flowing over the cracks and tears it had formed on its way out. It hurt, and it made Harry cringe a
little, but Loki only soothed him more.

Harry’s limbs felt like rubber, all of his weight was leaning onto Loki because he was pretty sure
that if he tried to move, he’d just collapse.

“There.” Loki said. “There you’ve done it. Good job. You did really well.”

“Did I hurt anyone?”

“No. No it’s alright.” Loki soothed. “You did really well keeping anyone from getting hurt.”

“What?”

“You might not have noticed but your magic protected everyone in here from falling debris.” Loki
said. “It’s okay. You lost control but nothing terrible happened.”

Harry nodded, he still felt way too weak. Not to mention sore. The wounds he’d gotten from the
fight earlier were stinging, reminding Harry that he’d pushed himself way too far in the past few
days. Loki didn’t seem to mind holding him up.

“Could you tell me exactly what caused that?” Loki asked. “I’m not asking to judge I just need to
understand to help it not happen again. We might not be so lucky next time.”

Part of Harry didn’t want to talk about it. The very thought of his realization made his magic
rumble dangerously under his skin. Loki noticed and immediately started rubbing his back. It was
odd. No one had ever done that and yet Harry recognized the touch.

“I…You said that Dumbledore told you that everyone was dead.”

“Yes. He did.” Loki confirmed. “I don’t know how you survived out of everyone, but I am so
grateful. I’m sure if Albus had known…”

“He was the one who hid me.”

The hands on his back froze, the arms holding him up felt like stone. Harry swallowed and kept
going.

“Everyone but mum survived that night. Sirius gave me to Dumbledore for my safety and he went
after Peter to…to get revenge for revealing where you and mum were. Peter framed Sirius for his
betrayal and went into hiding. Sirius went to Azkaban. No one would let Remus take care of me
and so Dumbledore was my guardian. Dumbledore sent me someplace where no one could ever
find me.” Harry said, his voice almost a pained whine. “Dumbledore told you I was dead and…and
he told me that I had to keep living where I was because no one else could take care of me.”

Loki’s entire posture was the epitome of tense. He couldn’t even tell if the man holding him was
breathing. Harry held himself still waiting for some sort of reaction. After what felt like a small
eternity, Loki let out a breath and spoke.

“You thought I’d left Remus and Sirius to suffer.” Loki said. “That’s why you confronted me.”

“Remus was alone for so long. I didn’t even know he existed until I was 13. It wasn’t right you’d
left him but…but it wasn’t your fault. I thought it was. And Sirius was in jail for being the secret
keeper only he wasn’t and you knew that but you left him in Azkaban. Except you didn’t you
thought he’d died. Because Dumbledore lied.”

“I don’t understand why he did all of this.” Loki admitted. “He was my friend, my leader.”

“It was to keep me.” Harry said. “Dumbledore knew that Voldemort wasn’t dead. He knew the war
wasn’t over. There was this prophecy that he heard, and everyone thinks it’s about me.
Dumbledore is certain that I’m the key to ending the war. Because I survived that day, because I
have this stupid scar on my forehead. He couldn’t risk you taking me away.”

Loki stiffened again but not for as long this time. Harry had a feeling he was trying to keep himself
under control. At the very least he was probably trying not to lose it like Harry did. Slowly the man
forced himself to breathe in and out until his body lost some of its stiffness.

“I see.”

There was something very dangerous in his voice then. Something that reminded him of Tom
Riddle. The way a smooth undercurrent of threat threaded itself into his voice. Harry swallowed.

“Harry, dear.” Loki spoke again this time in a different tone entirely. “Would you mind going back
to the tower with the Avengers? Dr. Banner can look at your injuries and make sure there’s nothing
broken. Then you’re going to eat as much food as you can possibly stomach. After that I’d like you
to get some sleep. You’ve used up too much of your magic, if we’re not careful you could get
sick.”

“What about you?”

“I’m going to call the American aurors and have them clean up this mess so that the statute isn’t
broken. I’m also going to work out the details so that no one gets obliviated.” Loki said.

“Then you’ll come back?” Harry asked.

“I…”

“Because I’d like to be there when you beat the snot out of Dumbledore.”

Harry could feel the man smile.

“Alright, I’ll come right back to the tower once this place is cleaned up. I promise. I’ll need your
help planning a proper revenge anyway.”

“Okay.” Harry agreed.

“Good. Thor! Get over here.”

From behind him he heard some footsteps. It occurred to him that the others might have heard that
entire conversation. He couldn’t bring himself to be bothered by that.

“I’ll take him back to the tower.” Thor said, stopping right behind them. “He’ll be safe with me.”

“Make sure he eats.” Loki said. “A lot of food. Not the pitiful amount humans call a meal. He
needs rest too. Magical Exhaustion isn’t a joke.”

“I know brother. I’m not an idiot.”

“Debatable.” Loki said while gently pushing Harry away from him and into Thor’s waiting arms.
Harry just went with it, he didn’t even know if he could hold up his head anymore. Thor held him
up with a surprisingly gentle touch.

“Is the kid okay?” Tony Stark asked.

“He used too much magic.” Loki said. “It can be very dangerous if left untreated, but he should be
alright as long as we’re careful for the next few days.”

“Bruce is waiting for us.” Captain America said. “He’s ready to look over Harry.”

“Good. Go, I’ve got to call the magical authorities.”

“Come on. There’s a car waiting for us.”

Harry didn’t really take in the trip from the arcade, now completely destroyed, to Avengers Tower.
Mostly he just let himself be practically carried around until he ended up sitting on a table with
Bruce Banner carefully trying to check to see if his ribs were bruised or broken. Around him he
listened as Tony and Thor ordered a mountain of food from various different places. They might
have, at one point, asked him what he liked since most of the food they were ordering were his
favorites, but he couldn’t remember it. Captain America and the Black Widow were talking to each
other to his left, they were, unsurprisingly, talking about Dumbledore and the war. Harry wanted to
answer some of their questions, but his tongue felt like it was glued to the bottom of his mouth.

“No broken bones, which is really great news I think. You’re going to have some terrible bruises
but those’ll pass. You’ve got a pretty deep cut on your arm. I’m going to clean it and bandage it up.
I don’t think it’ll need stitches. Okay Harry?” Bruce told him.

He forced himself to nod even though it made his head swim. Bruce smiled, and Harry let his mind
start to wander into exhausted numbness. The next time he was aware of anything, he was seated at
another table with literal piles of food surrounding him. Thor was placing a pile of pizza slices right
in front of him, telling him to start eating up. The other Avengers were eating too but it was pretty
obvious most of the food was meant for him.

So, Harry ate. And he ate. And he ate. Every time he cleared his plate, Thor was there to put more
food on it. Harry was sure at some point his stomach was supposed to tell him to stop but the sign
never came. He just kept eating. Had he been a little more aware he would have known that his
magic was nearly instantly turning most of the food he ate into magical energy because he was so
dangerously low. He wasn’t aware enough for that, he wasn’t even aware enough to realize just
how much food he ate.

Eventually the table was cleared of food. Harry sat there, feeling very heavy and lethargic. He
considered just laying his right down on the dirty plate. No one would mind that would they? But
Thor seemed to have a different idea. Despite the fact that Harry was totally out of energy at this
point, Thor still thought it was a good idea to get him clean.

So, Thor carried Harry, yes carried, like he was some sort of baby or swooning bride, to a
bathroom. Harry didn’t even have the energy to complain more than once about the manhandling
and Thor took his clothes off and rinsed all the blood off of him in the shower.

“Trust me nephew, it’s better to get the blood out now before it mats in your hair.”

So, Harry let the man clean him up. Thor was gentle and thorough without making it weird. Other
than the sheer embarrassment he felt that he couldn’t stand up in the shower by himself, his uncle
made the whole thing as bearable as possible.

For most of the time Harry compared the way Thor helped him clean up and the various ways Aunt
Petunia had done the same. From the boiling hot water, she’d forcibly held him in the bath tub to
the terribly scratchy sponge she’d used that had left red marks in his skin for days afterword. When
he’d gotten older, she’d tended to just start the hose on him if she thought he wasn’t clean. Then
she’d make him wait outside until he’d dried so that he wouldn’t drip in her nice clean kitchen.

Thor was totally different. He didn’t hold Harry tightly, just enough to keep him upright. He never
tugged on his hair like Aunt Petunia used to do making him tear up with pain. Instead the man was
patient as he carefully worked blood and debris out of the knots in his hair. To keep it from getting
too awkward Thor told Harry about the multiple times in his younger years when he’d had to do
this for Loki when the man had over done it with magic. Apparently, it ran in the family.
“The first time was when we’d finished a hunt, he was so magically exhausted he couldn’t even
ride his horse. He had to ride with me, so I could hold him up. I didn’t know what the problem
was, I thought he’d been poisoned. He was too exhausted to explain so I just raced through the
woods like there were dragons chasing us.” Thor told him. “Imagine it, two princes of Asgard
riding through a dark forest on one horse. One of them looking green enough to vomit and the
other worried enough to faint.”

It was a funny image and it made Harry giggle even as Thor put his head under the stream of water
to wash out the shampoo. Once all of the blood was gone, Thor carefully dried him off and dressed
him in some sweatpants and an over large t-shirt. Harry found himself being tucked in by a god.
Which was just bizarre. Harry had never once been tucked in. He wasn’t sure if he liked it.

“Now.” Thor said. “You’ve had a great feast, worthy of a warrior such as yourself.”

“Ha.” Thor continued as if he hadn’t heard Harry’s sarcastic noise.

“You’re clean of the blood of your enemies.”

“It was my blood.”

“Now.” Thor said, his voice raising just a little. “It’s time to sleep. It’s as all the greatest warriors in
Asgard do. Fight, Eat, and Sleep.”

“This the part where you tell me a bed time story?”

“Is that what you need?”

“I need you to make sure Loki actually comes back here.” Harry said seriously, more alert than
he’d been in some time. “A lot’s happened in the wizarding world since he left. I don’t want him…
want him getting hurt or anything until I can tell him everything.”

Thor gave him a gentle smile and nodded.

“I’ll keep him in the tower until you wake up. I promise. It might be difficult, but I promise it will
be done.”

“If you’ve got to, to tell him I’m scared.” Harry told him, making a face at the very idea. “I’m not
but tell him I’m right terrified of Death Eaters and I don’t think I can handle being by myself.”

“Very manipulative. That should work perfectly.” Thor told him. “Now get some rest. If you need
help just call out. Tony has an excellent servant in his house called Jarvis. He’s a computer and
he’ll hear you.”

“A computer?”

“You can get an explanation later.”

“Right. Yeah…”

Harry yawned and let his eyes fall shut. Exhaustion pulled at his limbs keeping them pinned to the
bed beneath him. Everything seemed designed to make him fall asleep. From the fluffiness of the
pillows to the weight of the comforter on top of him. The last thing he felt was Thor pulled the
blankets over him just a little more before he was totally gone to the world.
 Dense Cores and Prophecies
Chapter Summary

Thor makes sure Harry is comfortable before going back to make sure Loki doesn't do
something he'll regret. The last thing he wants to deal with is Loki's pouting if his son
grows upset with him.

Chapter Notes

Slightly shorter chapter this time around. I've got a lot of projects coming up due this
week and next! I'm actually writing up a proposal so I can go on a NASA volcanology
trip this summer. I wish writing proposals was as easy as writing about the Avengers.
Wouldn't life be sweet then?

Thor carefully stood once he was sure that Harry was completely asleep and made his way out of
the room. He didn’t mind that his clothing was wet, again. Most everyone had changed out of their
wet things from the fight, Thor included. But he’d gotten wet again while trying to make sure
Harry didn’t fall asleep for three days while covered in blood. That wasn’t a good look on anyone.

Now at least the young demi-god would sleep off his exhaustion clean and warm. Thor had never
seen anyone lose control of their abilities in that way before. Loki had said it was normal, expected.
But he was pretty sure that was a lie. There was something unsettling about the way the very earth
had trembled and shook. Not that it made Thor fear the young man. No. It made him fear for
Harry. It must have been absolutely frightening to lose all control, to risk harming everyone around
him without being about to stop it.

It was obvious to him that Harry was kind, if a bit too witty for his own good. He’d confronted
Loki, not for his own abandonment but for the others that Loki had left behind. Thor had watched
as Harry had lost more and more control of his magic, even with all of the destruction he caused his
magic had kept any of them from being hurt. Windows shattering sending glass over them but then
magic shielding them.

Thor emerged from the elevator to hear that his brother had already returned. Loki was ranting to
the rafters about what exactly he was going to do to Albus Dumbledore for this. It was rather
explicit and violent, much more than Loki normally was. As he walked into the main living area he
saw all of the Avengers, including the newly returned Clint, watching in horrified fascination as
Loki yelled continuously, not stopping for breath.

“I am going to rip out his nails one by one and then I’ll use them to scoop out his-”

Loki was pacing violently around the room. Everywhere he stepped ice spiked out dangerously.
Green flames were curled from his clenched fists. Thor leaned against the doorway and just
watched for a while. It had been ages since he’d seen his brother this…alive about anything. Even
the whole mess with his coronation and Loki discovering his adoption had been done with less
flare than this. This was the old Loki who twisted words so perfectly, making them sharp tools.
The Loki who used flamboyant movements and had tones of voice different from deadpan.

How he had missed it.

“What are you doing there?” Loki demanded. “Aren’t you supposed to be getting my son to bed?”

“He is in bed.” Thor said evenly. “We fed him enough food to feed about three Volstaggs. I kept
waiting for him to tell me he was full, but he never did. I think he would have kept eating if we
hadn’t run out. I cleaned all of the blood off of him and then tucked him in. He’s dead to the world
now.”

“The kid packed away more than a family of 20 would on Thanksgiving Day.” Tony added.

“I have to admit.” Steve said from his position on the couch. “It was a little disturbing that
someone so small could eat so much.”

“Yes.” Loki said, the magic draining from his hands. “That’s to be expected. His magical core was
severely depleted. His magic was instantly transforming most of that food into magical energy, I’d
be surprised if most of it even hit his stomach.”

“Okay…what is a magical core?” Bruce asked.

“It’s just the area where magic pools in your body.” Loki said. “The larger and denser the core the
more powerful the magic user.”

“Denser?” Thor asked.

“Oh yes. I never did tell Asgard about that.” Loki said offhandedly. “I figured out why demigods
are more powerful than us. Well, Lily figured it out, but I helped.”

“And you never thought to mention this?”

“Didn’t seem relevant.”

“The answer to a mystery that had boggled our scholars for millennia wasn’t relevant?” Had Thor
really missed this? Loki opened his mouth to give an unhelpful answer, but Bruce cut in.

“Okay tell us. Why is your son more powerful than you?”

“It all comes down to biology really.” Loki answered. “Human magic users are weaker than gods
yes this is because the human tissue can’t handle a lot of magic passing through it. If too much
magic passes through them, they essentially get cancer. The magical version of it in any case. This
means that their core needs to be smaller in order to limit the danger the magic possesses to them.”

“So, magic is cancerous?”

Loki made a face that seemed to imply ‘sort of’, which wasn’t comforting. Thor knew what the
man meant though. It was true, even gods who bathed in too much magic seemed to change.

“It changes humans in terrifying ways. You-Know-Who had immersed himself in so much magic
that he no longer looked human. His skin was bone white, his eyes were red sacs and his nose had
fallen off, only to be replaced by two snake-like slits. The magic had changed him, deformed him.
It’ll happen to any human who goes too far.” Loki explained. “Humans with naturally large cores
tend to go a bit…round the bend. Their natural magic literally changing their brains so that most of
the time they don’t seem quite all there.”
“Right so a lot of magic makes us either monsters or a bit kooky.” Tony drawled. “What does that
make the magical world like?”

“Chaotic. The most powerful tend to become the leaders which means that the most lunatic of the
bunch tend to make the law.” Loki answered sounding so damn fond of the very concept. “Don’t
expect the magical world to make sense. It very rarely does. I don’t think it was meant to. Common
sense isn’t as important when everyone can just spell away a problem.”

“That actually sounds really fun.” Clint decided.

“Of course, you’d think that.” Natasha said. Loki quickly continued to explain his findings.

“Now since humans are so fragile to large amounts of magic, but they still have the ability to use it,
a solution had to be found. And you did. Humans evolved a method of storing magic in their bodies
in a more efficient manner. Essentially their cores are very dense. Every inch of the core is packed
with magic. This increases their power while decreasing the likelihood that they’ll go mad.”

“So, we’ve got a more efficient battery.” Bruce surmised.

“Yes. Gods like Thor and I don’t need to have efficiency. While our bodies can be changed by
magic it generally takes astronomically higher amounts of magic. Our cores can grow and grow
without really posing a threat to our health.”

Loki turned around and continued to speak. His hands shaping the words that his mouth produced.

“A demigod retains humanities efficient magical cores while gaining the gods’ ability to handle
large core sizes. Essentially he’s got a magical core my size while it’s about five times as dense.”

“Well shit.”

“How well summarized.”

“How’d you know his core is five times as dense as yours?” Steve asked.

“That’s how dense Lily’s was compared to mine.” Loki answered. “I checked when Harry was very
young. He had his mother’s density, but it was growing quickly. I imagine if I checked it now, it’d
be much closer to my size. It’s why I placed a spell on him to limit his power. The plan had been to
protect his body from the strain until it was better able to handle it. I didn’t want my son going mad
you know.”

“And is his body ready for that sort of strain? Or was that…episode from earlier part of the
problem?” Tony asked gently.

“No.” Loki said. “Harry had a momentary lapse of control. Which is to be expected when he’s
under that amount of pressure. Not only has he discovered that his long dead father is alive, but it’s
me, the man who failed to invade earth. His entire world is at war and thanks to a crazy old man
and a prophecy everyone thinks it’s his job to end it. On top of all of that he’s learnt that the leader
of the light, the man he’s supposed to follow has betrayed him in the worse way possible. Harry is
expected to deal with this all while going through the throws of puberty.”

“When you put it like that.” Clint said. “I’m surprised there’s still a New York.”

Even Thor had to admit that the damage done was minimal compared to what it could have been.

“So, you’re sure he’s asleep?”

“He almost passed out on me while I was getting the blood out of his hair.” Thor said. “I promise
you, he won’t be moving for some time.”

“Good.” Loki said. “Magical exhaustion is very serious. We need to make sure he doesn’t strain
himself at all for at least a week. If he does he could make himself very ill.”

“Why are you telling us this?” Thor asked. “Aren’t you going to be here?”

Loki got a very shifty look in his eye and Thor sighed.

“I’m only going to be gone for a little bit. Have a chat with Albus. Harry won’t even know it’s
happened.”

“I see you’ve learned so much from Odin.”

“Don’t you dare compare…”

“So, you didn’t just admit to planning on lying to your son hours within getting him back?”

Loki looked as if he’d been slapped.

“Well…I…”

“No. I don’t want to hear it. I refuse to allow you to ruin your relationship with Harry. I won’t deal
with your sulking when he kicks you to the curb because you refuse to grow up.”

“If you’re suggesting that I just let Dumbledore get away with this then…”

“I’m not. I’m telling you that I won’t let you leave this tower until Harry’s awake and able to go
with you. He’s the one who’s been truly hurt by all of this.” Thor reminded the man. “I know, I got
a look at him while cleaning him up. The boy’s body is littered with scars.”

“What?” Tony asked. “You mean other than the weird one on his forehead?”

“He has puncture wounds, burn scars, scars from knives, scars from spells. A scar on the back of
his hand that looks as if someone’s carved words into it.” Thor listed. “There’s a huge one on his
arm that looks like he’d been stabbed clean through with a pike. Other’s still that look like
handprints burned into his legs. There’s no part of his body that isn’t marked with something.”

Thor didn’t mention the small tattoo on his wrist. That looked like something special, something
private. As he described what he’d seen each of the heroes got more and more upset. Outside
clouds were beginning to stir. The anger he’d held back in favor of being as gentle as he could with
his nephew was leaking out of him. He tried to be careful, no one liked it when the gods were
angry.

Loki looked devastated, which wasn’t surprising. When his brother considered something ‘his’, he
was always distraught when any harm came to it. Granted, a son was a bit more important than a
toy or magical trinket, but the principle was the same. Loki could oftentimes be overprotective of
that which he cared for. Knowing that his failure had been so great would pretty much gut him. But
it would be better for Loki to work through that now, rather than when Harry was awake and
needed him.

“What were the words? On the back of his hand.” Loki asked.

“I must not tell lies.”

Loki’s fists clenched together.

“Who would do that to a little kid?” Tony asked. “Carve that into his hand?”

In the distance thunder rumbled. It felt like those words were an attack on Loki, on Harry’s
heritage. It felt pointed and ugly. Mark the son of the god of lies with a command for truth. There
was no way Loki hadn’t taken it personally. Even if whomever had done it couldn’t have even
fathomed the slight they were making.

“I don’t know.” Loki said. “But I intend to find out.”

“Do you see why I want you here?” Loki sighed but nodded at his brother. “Good, wait a week
before getting revenge. It’ll be good practice.”

“Practice?”

“Of course.” Clint said. “You’re a dad now. Everything you want comes second to Harry.”

“Including any revenge you want to get.” Tony added with a smirk. “I mean really you won’t even
be able to prank someone if it would upset him.”

Loki rolled his eyes at that.

“While that is true you all are forgetting that this is my son. He might be even worse than I am
when it comes to trouble. By the end of the week your entire tower could be booby trapped.”

“No way a kid who can lift Thor’s hammer is ever going to prank us.” Steve said.

“Well, we’ll just have to see if blood comes through, won’t we?”

“Are you honestly asking for your son to be a troublemaker?” Natasha asked, amused.

“Of course, then we’ll have something in common.”

Everyone rolled their eyes at the tone. It was odd being in a synchronized eyeroll but Loki made it
happen so frequently. Thor finally decided to move out from the doorway and into the room
proper. His clothing hadn’t really dried at all but that was hardly the point anyway.

“Why are you so wet?”

“Because your son was covered in his own blood and letting that sit in his hair for the next three
days while he’s unconscious isn’t the best plan. I gave him a bath.” Thor said.

“That was nice of you.” Steve said.

“I also used it as an excuse to see why he weighed practically nothing. Demi-god or not, the boy
should have some weight to him.”

“I noticed that too.” Loki admitted. “I don’t think he knows how much he has to eat now that the
spells I put on him are gone. He’d need to nearly triple what a normal teen would need.”

“Explains why he’s so skinny at least.” Thor said.

“Are you telling me that I’ve got a super-powered teenager getting ready to eat me out of house
and home?” Tony asked in a way that was clearly joking.
“If it helps I could start paying rent. I did have money as James Potter. Although, I am technically
dead so that would mean Harry has all my money. He could pay rent.”

“I’m not asking a 12 year old for rent.”

“Then don’t complain about the costs of feeding him.”

“Do you even have a sense of humor?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“Back onto the more important topic.” Natasha cut in. “Now that Thor is here, can we discuss the
fact that the magical war isn’t over? And what we’re going to do about it.”

A somber silence fell over all of them. Ever since learning about You-Know-Who and the war he’d
waged they’d all been silently grateful that he was gone. That sort of evil wasn’t something you
wanted to face. Loki’s family might be gone but at least the monster who’d destroyed them was
gone too. Except now apparently, he was alive.

“How serious are prophecies?” Bruce asked.

And that was the question wasn’t it? How serious was a prophecy? Loki got a stormy look on his
face as he considered how best to answer that. Thor decided to start.

“It depends if it’s a true prophecy or not. Anyone can predict the future, but only a select few can
give real prophecies.”

“If Albus was willing to lie to a god about his son over a prophecy, it’s very likely a real one.” Loki
said. “The man may be an idiot but he’s not stupid.”

“A real prophecy,” Thor said carefully. “is unavoidable. Its wording is exact if misleading. Trying
to circumvent it will only lead to ruin, trying to control it will cause destruction. It will happen no
matter what you do. Most real prophecies don’t even make sense until they’ve already been played
out.”

“Then how could anyone be sure that Harry’s part of it?” Bruce asked. “Are they just assuming it’s
him because of who his dad is?”

“I don’t know the wording.” Loki said. “It could be any reason at all. But we’ve got to assume that
Albus was right in identifying my son. If we assume he isn’t then Harry might not be prepared for
the final confrontation, if we assume he is and he isn’t, then at least he’ll be overprepared.”

“You don’t mean to imply that you’d let your son face that monster?” Thor demanded.

“That’s insane Loki.” Steve said. “We should keep Harry here until the war is over. If that many
Death Eaters are willing to swarm over him, he needs a guard at all times.”

“We could set up some sort of schedule.” Clint offered.

Before Thor could add on his support to that idea Loki cut in looking rather ferocious.

“Stop. Stop right there.” Loki told them. “No one is putting my son under guard. We’re not treating
him like a child.”

“Loki, he’s not even 16.”

“I know that. I know that much better than you. All of this hurts me more than it will any of you
but these are the facts. Harry isn’t a child anymore. The trauma he’s undergone has aged him well
past his years. You saw him fight Amora and those Death Eaters, that’s not the sort of experience a
child has. If we treat him like a little baby who can’t defend himself instead of an equal he will
leave so quickly the windows will shatter.”

And Thor knew Loki was right. No body with scars like that could be called a child’s body.

“I plan on keeping him safe, protecting him with all that I have.” Loki said. “But no matter how
much I hate it, I can’t treat him like the baby I loved so much. With a prophecy in play I can’t
follow my first instinct and hide him away on some distant planet. Trying to trick fate will only
hurt him further. I have to be smart.”

More silence as they digested that. It was true. Locking Harry up like a princess in a tower would
only in the end hurt him. Because if the prophecy was about him, then nothing would keep him
from that final confrontation.

“So we need to know the wording then. This Dumbledore guy obviously knows it.” Tony said.
“Any other way we can get our hands on it?”

“All true prophecies given on earth are recorded magically.” Loki said. “If it was given in Britain
then that means that the British Magical Government will have it stored somewhere. Probably in
the Department of Mysteries.”

“So, can we just go and pick it up?” Steve asked.

“No. There are protections on those orbs.” Loki said. “If you touch one that isn’t about you, the
magic will backlash so hard you’re likely to either go completely mad or die.”

“Why would they do that?” Bruce asked.

“To keep people from messing with fate. In Asgard, seers often won’t even reveal the prophecies
they give for the same reason.” Thor guessed.

“So, what? Have we got to threaten it out of Dumbledore?” Natasha asked. “I’m good with threats.”

“It might be our only option.” Steve said.

“Harry could know it.” Thor said. “He was the one who told us about it in the first place.”

“Then we’ll wait for him to wake up.” Natasha said. “When me and Steve were talking about it
earlier while Bruce was checking him out, Harry kept trying to answer our questions but it kept
coming out as gibberish.”

“Yes.” Thor said. “I think Harry’s going to be our best source of information on the current status
of the war. He told me before he went to sleep that he wanted me to make sure Loki stayed here
because a lot had changed since he’d left. But we’ll have to wait a few days until he’s coherent.”

“So, what do we do till now? I mean, we’re all fighting this You-Know-Who guy right?” Bruce
said. “Cause we’re the Avengers.”

“I think fighting magical terrorists is in our job description, yeah.” Clint agreed. “What do you say
Cap? Wanna take a break fighting Hydra?”

“I think this might be a bit more pressing.” Steve said wryly. “You up for it Tony?”
“You kidding? This is going to be my change to finally test out some of my different suits!”

“What about you Nat?” Steve asked. “You in?”

She lifted an eyebrow up at the question, which really, form her was about a declaration of undying
support to the cause. Loki was looking a little…stunned at the show of support.

“I…You…thank you.” He said. “But if you’re going to be fighting Death Eaters. You’re going to
need some training. A magic war is very different from anything you’ve experienced, even you
Thor. On earth, during a magic fight, it’s considered ill form to actually touch your opponent. You
all will need to learn how to identify human spells, know what can be blocked and what can’t.”

“Well we’ve got at least a few days until Harry’s up and about. How about you get us started Obi-
wan?”

Thor smiled as Loki took a moment to pull himself together. Then there was a determined gleam in
his eye. He clasped his hands together, lacing his fingers together with both of his pointer fingers
still pointed straight up. The tips of those two fingers touched his lips for just a moment.

“Let’s go to the training room then. No time like the present.” Then Loki’s hands were free as he
strode over to the elevator. “Come on! This is no time to procrastinate! Thor! I’ll need you to be my
test dummy!”

Thor rolled his eyes.

“Why did I miss him so much?”

“That is one of the world’s greatest mysteries.”

“Come on.” Steve said. “Let’s go.”

 Hermione's Genius
Chapter Summary

Harry wakes up from a three day coma with a new vision and a determination to call
his friends. After all, they need to know what he's learned and he knows they're bound
to be worried sick. Things between him and Loki are still awkward at best.

Chapter Notes

Hey everyone! Guess who's in her last week of classes?? Me. Guess who caught some
sort of flu due to stress??? Also Me. This weekend I'm going to do nothing but sleep,
it's going to be so good to relax with the ending of the semester. Thanks for the great
comments! I hope you all enjoy this update!

The room was dark, filled with some sort of fetid stench that reminded one of an ancient rotting
basement, but he knew the stench was new. White fingers tapped staccato beats onto the table
seated in the center of the room. It was a long oak table, able to fit many bodies, perhaps for a nice
party or family reunion, not that it was used for anything pleasurable anymore. There were dark
spots staining the wood, dark brown with smaller spots of not quite yet dried red.

A fire crackled and popped, providing the only other noise in the oppressive room. It was
attempting and failing to light the entire room. Instead long shadows were painted along the floors
and walls. More finger tapping, it was getting quicker, sharper. Then, a knock.

“Enter.”

The door at the far end of the room opened to reveal a round shaking figure with a silver hand. Said
silver hand was the only thing steady about the person. His face was covered in sweat, his hair
greasy and knotted.

“What is it?” A voice hissed out.

“My…My Lord. There is n…news from the Americans.”

The hand stopped, that was unexpected news. The expectation had been that any news would be
from the Europeans. The one person who could ruin the entire operation had disappeared,
somehow. The Order had hidden him somewhere new, had somehow blocked the connection.
Every attempt to get into that boy’s mind had failed. Ever since the abrupt severing of the
connection a few weeks ago.

“And?”

“Ha…Harry Potter has been spo…spotted in Ne…New York City.”

“Send orders out for his capture.”

The fat, cowardly figure flinched at the order. Flinches meant that the message wasn’t finished.
Flinches meant pain.

“Wormtail.”

“The…The Death Eaters tried to…to capture him but…but the American Aurors got in the way.”

The tapping hand fisted. Harry Potter was working with the Americans now? The Order was
hindered by the corrupt British Ministry. Potter had been hurt by them just as much as his forces
had hurt him. But if Potter allied with someone new? Bright red eyes narrowed.

“Crucio!”

***

Harry woke with a scream. He tried to fight and push off the thick blankets that seemed to try and
suffocate him. His flailing eventually sent him tumbling to the floor. The cool of the carpet felt like
pure relief on his fevered skin.

“Mr. Potter are you well?”

Harry blinked at the strange British voice. He carefully pushed the blanket away from his face and
tried to see who was speaking. Before he could his stomach violently started to protest. Harry
forced himself up and rushed towards the bathroom. He fell to his knees and slid the rest of the
way to the toilet. His face fell forward as he started to cough and gag. His stomach heaved and
bright drops of red dripped from his scar, landing on the porcelain around him.

“Do you want me to call for your father, Mr. Potter?” The same voice hesitantly asked from
somewhere near the ceiling.

He finally stopped attempting to vomit and fell back onto his butt. His scar was still bleeding, he
lifted a hand up to the hot pulsing wound. He hissed in pain and let his hand drop. He couldn’t see
anyone in the room.

“Who’s there?” He cringed at how shrill his voice sounded.

“Apologies. I am Jarvis.”

“Where are you?”

“I am a computer system integrated into the tower. Mr. Stark created me to help him with his work
as well as help anyone living within Avengers Tower. As you are currently a guest I am here to
help you. Would you like me to call for help? You are currently bleeding from your face.”

Normally Ron would be here helping Harry with the bleeding, or maybe Hermione depending on
when the vision had happened. Once he’d had a vision while they were walking along the lake and
Ron and Hermione had just laid down next to him to make it look like they were all taking a cat
nap. The idea of asking for help from anyone else wasn’t pleasant but neither was all of this
bleeding.

“Yeah.”

“One moment please.” Jarvis said.

Harry slowly leaned against the bathroom wall behind him. He focused on breathing, trying to
make sense of what he’d seen.

“He’s on his way.” Jarvis told him, a moment later he heard a door in the other room slam open,
then the pounding of footsteps.

Loki appeared, looking frantic and out of breath a moment later. His eyes landed on Harry who was
huddled against a wall with a face full of blood.

“Harry.”

“Could you get me some ice and a towel?”

“You’re hurt. What happened?”

“Please?”

Loki pulled himself together and conjured a small towel and a glass of ice. He knelt down next to
Harry. Harry took them both with shaking hands. He dumped the ice into the towel and then made
a little bag with it. Then he gently placed the now cooled towel to his bleeding face. He sighed in
relief.

“I could spell that closed.”

“No. No magic on it hurts.” Harry said forcing himself not to shake his head. “Madam Pomphrey’s
tried everything.”

“It happens that frequently?”

“Yeah. Can’t really…predict when it will. Nobody really understands the scar at all.”

“Curse scars can be complicated but surely you’ve got some idea.”

“It’s a curse scar from a killing curse.”

Harry looked up to see that Loki was clearly trying not to freak out or panic. He swallowed
carefully and waited.

“You got hit with a killing curse?” He asked. “How are you…?”

“I don’t know. Nobody does. I was a baby the night mom died, and I got hit. I don’t remember
anything that would explain it. Dumbledore…he told me it was mum who did something to save
me, but I don’t know if I want to believe anything he says anymore.”

The man hummed in understanding.

“Come on. Let’s get up. You’ve been asleep for three days now, you’re probably hungry?”

“Three days?” Harry yelped. “Oh Merlin. I need a phone!”

“A phone?”

“Yes a phone, please?”

“I’m sure there’s one, come on. Are you strong enough to stand?”

“Course. It’s just a small head wound.”

Slowly Harry pushed himself onto his feet, while keeping the towel that was now turning a not so
great shade of pink on his face. Loki helped him up all the way and then, gently led him from the
bathroom.

“We’ve got some food ready for you. We knew you’d be getting up sometime today. Are you
hungry?”

“I mean…yeah I guess.” Harry said shrugging. When wasn’t he hungry?

“Good, we’ll just be going up a few floors to the penthouse, that’s where we eat together most
days. I’m sure most of the team will be there too. They’ve wanted to get to know you outside of a
fight.”

“Right. And we can get me to a phone?”

“Who do you need to call so badly?”

“My friends. They’re probably worried sick about me.”

“Of course. They know you’re in New York, right now?”

“How do you think I got here without Dumbledore knowing?”

“I see. Well then let’s find you a phone.”

Harry smiled at little, which was about as big as he could considering the bleeding face. They got
into an elevator and fell into silence. It was a little awkward. Harry wasn’t sure what he was
supposed to say. Loki seemed just as lost. Harry swallowed and decided to try.

“So you…played quidditch?”

“What?” Loki said stupidly before blinking. “I yes…I did. I was a Chaser for four years and the
captain for two. How did you know?”

“You were in the yearbook. As the captain. It was part of the reason I…stayed on the team at first
when McGonagall put me on.”

“You didn’t try out? She just put you on?”

“I think it was either get on the team and squash Slytherin or go to detention for the stunt I pulled.”

“Which stunt was that?”

“Well…”

Loki gave him a hopeful grin and so as the elevator took them up Harry told the story of Neville’s
remembrall and Draco Malfoy trying to go for the world’s biggest bully award for the first time on
Hogwart’s grounds. Loki listened with something like glee on his face as Harry told him about
flying against the rules all to get back Neville’s gift from his gran.

“A seeker as a first year? You must be extraordinary.”

“I’m alright yeah.”

“What happened to your face?” Thor demanded.

“Well you see.” Harry said. “When human teenagers reach a certain age they just start randomly
bleeding from their face. It’s a rite of passage.”

All of the humans in the room looked a little too amused for Thor to believe Harry’s claim. Harry
rolled his eyes and spoke again.

“Right. No, the bleeding scar thing is just me. Long story. Not much anyone can do for it.” Harry
answered. “Does anyone have a phone I can borrow? I need to call my friends and let them know
I’m okay.”

“Since your face is you know…bleeding, do you mind if Jarvis just calls them and puts it on the
speaker?”

Harry figured that was fair. No need to get blood all over someone’s phone.

“Sure. We’ll call Hermione.”

“Hermione?” Loki asked his tone inquisitive and playful. Harry knew that tone.

Harry made a very disgusted face at the thought of dating Hermione…that’d be like dating Ron.
Why did everyone think that? Hermione was great, but she was like sister great. Which, after that
horrible incident with Cho at Madam Puddifoots, Harry was pretty sure it was better that way.

“She’s like my sister. No way.”

“Really?” Loki asked. “Is she pretty? Does she make your heart race? You know if you’re having a
hard time…”

Harry pursed his lips. He’d had a long time to think about dating Hermione in his fourth year.
When all the newspapers were screaming that they were an item. At first, he’d been upset because
it was Rite Skeeter lying, again. But then…then he saw how it made people treat Hermione.
People told her she wasn’t pretty enough for him, people told him that it was good he’d finally
made a move. One boy from Ravenclaw had basically told him that there was no other reason to be
friends with a girl like her.

“So, the first thing you’re going to do to me as a dad is call me a liar then?” Loki’s mouth snapped
shut and he looked like Harry had punched him again. Harry didn’t apologize. He was tired of
people not believing him when he said things. “Can we please call her?”

“Of course, Mr. Potter. What is the number please?”

Harry listed out Hermione’s number and soon the entire room was filled the sound of ringing. Loki
was looking a little put out that Harry wasn’t even willing to entertain his nonsense.

“Granger Residence.” Hermione’s voice said. “This is Hermione speaking.”

“Hullo.” Harry said, it took less than half a second for Hermione to know who she was talking to.

“HARRY JAMES POTTER! I HAVE BEEN SO WORRIED!”

Harry winced at her shrill tone. He deserved that he really did. He should have called them before
he passed out, or asked Thor to call them. He’d forgotten, and he’d left them worrying for three
days. Before Hermione could go on a full blown rant, he broke in.

“Hermione you’re on speaker phone.”

The wind blew out of her sails, Harry could feel it over the line.

“What?”

“I’m at Avengers Tower, have been for the last three days. I’ve been unconscious. I’m sorry, I
should have gotten a message to you guys before I fell asleep.”

“What happened Harry?” Hermione asked. “You only pass out for three days if you get into a fight
with You-Know-Who.”

“Are you ever going to let that one go?” Harry asked, a little irked at the mention of the incident in
their first year.

“No. Now what happened?”

“I was exploring New York, I wanted to see a bit of the city before I headed home.” Harry told her.
She and Ron already knew that he’d punched his dad and fought off an Asgardian. He’d called
them days ago about that. “I got attacked by Death Eaters. They swarmed this arcade I was at.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I mean other than the magical exhaustion. I’m like…way more durable now. I got
hit with a low powered blasting hex and it barely hurt.”

“That’s very interesting. I do wonder what exactly those spells Loki put on you did. I didn’t expect
you’d become stronger like that. This is going to take more research if we’re going to ever
understand what you’re capable of.” Hermione said, her mind already wandering towards what
books she wanted to read.

“Plus.” Harry added. “Think of what it’ll mean for quidditch.”

Loki actually smiled at that while the others looked a little confused.

“Harry.” Hermione said. “There is more to life than that game of high speed death ball.”

“Is there really? Name a better game, Hermione. You can’t.”

She made a very annoyed noise before pushing the conversation forward by asking him what
happened in the fight. Harry quickly told her that Tony Stark had been there at the arcade too,
trying to find him and when the Death Eaters showed up, he helped evacuate the muggles and then
went to get help.

“Did they all come to help?” Hermione asked.

“If you’re asking, Miss Granger, whether I came to help my son.” Loki said. “Then yes I did.”

Harry gave the man an unimpressed look for interrupting. Loki looked almost hurt that Harry
wasn’t impressed. But how could the man think that? The rest of the Avengers had been silent.

“Harry?”

“Yes, he helped.” Harry confirmed. “But then he wanted to talk. Which is why I ended up passing
out for three days. The conversation was so…enlightening that I lost control of my magic for a
moment.”

It was embarrassing to admit but he knew Hermione would understand once he told her why.
“Enlightening? Do I need to come down there Harry? I’m not sure how but if you…”

“No. No you need to stay there. Stick to the plan.” Harry told her. “Are you alone right now?”

“My parents are at the dentistry right now, it’s just me here. I don’t see why that would matter,
they’re muggles you know.” She said. “What’s wrong?”

“Dumbledore lied.” Harry told her. “Dumbledore told Loki that I was dead, that Sirius and Remus
were dead. That’s why he wasn’t there.”

There was a moment of silence, Hermione only really ever needed a moment to understand
anything. Where Harry had needed more than a few to figure out the cause of this betrayal,
Hermione figured it out in a heartbeat.

“That…THAT FU-”

A terrible crackling sound cut off Hermione’s rant and then there was the silence of a disconnected
to call. Harry winced at that. Her parents were not going to be pleased.

“What happened?” Tony asked. “Is she okay?”

“She’s fine.” Harry said. “It’s just that magic and technology don’t tend to…play well together.
Most witches and wizards don’t use it because if you get upset even a little it tends to break it. It’s
why I don’t have a phone myself. She’ll call back once she’s calmed down. It only sucks cause
I’ve never heard her swear before. I probably never will.”

Harry moved the now dripping towel from his face. His scar was probably really bright red and
inflamed but it was no longer burning or bleeding.

“Give me those.” Loki said. “Is it done bleeding now?”

“Should be. At least until the next time it happens.”

“How often does that scar just start spurting blood?” Hawkeye asked.

“I dunno? Sometimes. It’s not like I keep track.” Hermione would have though.

“Could you explain what causes it?” Captain America asked.

“The night my mom was murdered, Voldemort tried to kill me too.”

“You said his name.” Loki hissed.

“Lokes I thought you said that name was cursed.” Tony said.

“It is. It alerts him to your location when you say it.”

Harry thought about it and realized the blood wards probably kept that from happening. He’d said
it plenty of times while in New York and the monster still didn’t know where he was.

“I didn’t know about the curse. Dumbledore never told me. In fact, he encouraged me to start
using it.” Harry told them with a disgruntled expression. “Sorry. I’ll call him by his real name from
now on.”

“That’s not his real name?” Loki asked.

“What sort of mum would name their kid that? It’s a made up french name that means ‘flee from
death’.” Harry told him. He’d learnt that from Fleur. “His real name is Tom Riddle. Fair warning if
you call him that he will get so pissed off you should be ready to dodge a killing curse.”

“Riddle…” Loki said. “Where have I seen that name before? It’s so…familiar.”

“Did you ever get a detention where you had to polish all the school trophies by hand?” Harry
asked.

“Only about 500 times…” The man snapped his fingers. “Tom Riddle, he got an award for special
services to the school in the 1930s!”

Harry nodded a little.

“That was for when he framed Hagrid for the murder of a 12 year old girl that he committed.”

“Oh Odin.” Loki said. “He’s the reason that kind man can’t use magic?”

Harry nodded, his jaw hardening.

“Loki.” Thor said. “Who is Hagrid?”

“He’s the groundskeeper at Hogwarts. A very kind man with a love for dangerous magical
creatures.” Loki said. “If you ever have a problem with a magical creature he’s the man to call,
there isn’t a single one he can’t tame. He can’t use magic but he never talks about why. I hadn’t
realized that he’d been framed for murder. If you’re convicted of a crime that serious, either your
wand is snapped and you’re not allowed to use magic anymore or you’re put in prison.”

“He’s my friend.” Harry added. “A great friend. He got me my first birthday present. He even
made me a cake.”

Loki frowned, which Harry had expected. He didn’t expect Thor to step forward and look at him
with a pensive look on his eye.

“How old were you?”

“11.”

“And you hadn’t received a present for your birthday before that?”

“I’d never gotten a present for any reason before that.” Harry told him slowly. How thick was the
man? “I’m an orphan. People don’t give us…gifts.”

Before Thor, or rather anyone, could say anything to that Jarvis spoke.

“Excuse me I am receiving a video call from Miss Granger. If you would please go over to the tv I
can connect the call.”

“Sure.” Tony said. “Come on kid. This way.”

Harry quickly stepped around a frowning Thor and followed Tony. Out of the corner of his eye he
could see dark clouds forming outside. The other Avengers followed them to the area where a TV
was mounted on the wall. The screen turned on a moment later. Hermione looked like she was still
in a rage. Her hair was the bushiest it had ever been, and her cheeks were red.

“I cannot believe this! I am OUTRAGED!”

“Herm-”

“Don’t you try and calm me down Harry James Potter!”

Using his middle name twice? She really did mean it. The girl in the screen stepped away from the
computer and started to pace rapidly back and forth, muttering to herself. Harry felt the need to
defend his friend.

“She’s…passionate.” Harry whispered.

“I can see that.” Tony said.

“It all makes sense now!” Hermione shouted, not having heard them. She strode right back to the
camera. “Everything about the last five years finally make sense!”

“I’m not…following.” Harry admitted.

“Just think about it, Harry.” Hermione said. “Think of it like you’re Dumbledore. It makes sense,
all of it. The stone, the chamber of secrets, the dementors, the tournament!”

“Hermione.” Harry said. “You’re the genius here. Not me. What makes sense?”

She sighed and then took in a deep breath, obviously trying to calm herself down so she doesn’t
break her computer.

“Just imagine, you’re the leader of a rebellion against a Dark Lord.” She started, still sounding a
little to close to rabid for Harry’s liking. “And you’re losing. Every account I’ve read of the war
before we were born was bad. Our side was losing. I mean just think of it. Your entire side of the
war is being decimated by Death Eaters. By the time James and Lily Potter joined the Order, an
entire generation of witches and wizards had been destroyed by the war. The Potters were gone, the
Longbottoms, the Bones families, everyone like them. An entire generation. There’s a reason most
of the Order was made up of teenagers and young adults. You’ve been fighting a 50-year war and
it’s clear now you can’t win. You’re not even slowing The Dark Lord down.”

She looked almost rabid as she laid out her description. Harry didn’t like to think about the war.
Loki spoke up.

“She’s right. As hopeful as your mother and I were, I knew that unless something big changed, we
probably wouldn’t win. For a long time, I heavily debated sending a message to Asgard and
begging for help. I didn’t think one god would be enough, especially as weakened as I was.”

“Thank you, Mr. Potter.” Hermione said politely, glancing over at his dad with interest in her
brown eyes. “I’m glad to know my research has been accurate. The teachers at Hogwarts make it so
difficult to get information. Something about war crimes not being appropriate reading.”

Harry snorted while a few of the other Avengers chuckled. Hermione ran a hand through her hair
and continued.

“Now. Back to what I was saying. Dumbledore was losing. The lauded leader of the light, the
defeater of Grindewald, supposedly the greatest wizard alive and he can’t do anything. Then! Right
when everything seems lost, he hears a prophecy. A prophecy about a baby that’s going to be born
that can do what Dumbledore can’t, end the war.”

“Me.” Harry said, his voice sounding just a tad hoarse.

“Exactly.” She said. “He just needs to keep one family safe until you’re old enough to be the savior
the world needs. He warns your family, tells them to go into hiding because Voldemort’s put them
on his hit list. He doesn’t tell them about the prophecy because if they knew they might do
something stupid or dangerous. Your family goes into hiding, trusting only their closest friends
with their secret hiding place. It’s fool proof now. He just has to last long enough. It’s just a
waiting game, gathering enough intel on You-Know-Who that when you are old enough you can
take him down.”

“But it goes wrong.” Tony breaks in. “The parents are betrayed and killed and he’s left with the
baby.”

“That night Harry survived a killing curse, something no one ever has in the history of the spell.
No one knows how it happened, the only survivor of the night is him and he was only 15 months
old. The killing curse rebounded off of Harry and hit You-Know-Who dead on, destroying his
body.”

“So, the prophecy is fulfilled then?” Steve asked hopefully.

“I’m afraid not. His body was destroyed but he wasn’t. Dumbledore knew that, he told Harry as
much in our first year. Even though Harry had survived the first confrontation, he knew this was
only a break in the war. They were incredibly lucky that Harry lived. Without him there isn’t any
hope of the war ending. Dumbledore realized that he’d left too much up to chance. He’d trusted
your parents to keep you safe and they failed. He couldn’t trust anyone to make sure you were in
the right place to win the war.”

“So, he lied. I got that Hermione.” Harry said. “He told Loki that I was dead and so was everyone
else so that he wouldn’t take me to Asgard, away from Tom and the war.”

“It’s more than that. So much more than that. I’ve thought of this all just now. If Dumbledore
decided that he needed to control everything to make sure that the prophecy was fulfilled in the
way he wanted, then…there’s no stopping what he’d do to you.”

“What do you mean?” Thor asked. “What did he do?”

“Dumbledore was the head of the wizengamot, that’s the governmental body that did the Death
Eater trials. Sirius Black was framed for betraying the Potters, it would have been Dumbledore’s
duty to get the man a trial. But he didn’t, there was no investigation, nothing. Sirius was just
thrown in Azkaban. Dumbledore knew the truth, but it didn’t matter. If Sirius was a free man then
Sirius would have control of you, not him. Sirius had already failed to keep you safe once. He
wasn’t getting a second chance.”

Harry felt frozen as Hermione continued.

“He could have raised you at Hogwarts. It’s safe there, one of the best warded places in the world.
And you would have been with people like Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick who
knew your parents and were close with them. But he didn’t. He didn’t want anyone to influence
you, anyone other than him. So, he isolated you from everyone for ten years. He left you with
those monsters so that when you did come back from the wizarding world you wouldn’t have any
sense of worth. That way you’d see him as the perfect leader, the perfect mentor.”

Outside the clouds were thickening. The air felt hot. Harry focused on breathing. He couldn’t lose
control, he wouldn’t. Suddenly Loki reached out and took Harry’s hand. Without thinking it
through Harry squeezed as hard as he could. Loki didn’t flinch at what had to be a painful grip.
Instead, he squeezed back for just a second. The anger dwindled a little with the pressure he was
exerting. Hermione had gone back to pacing now.

“Then you show up at Hogwarts but you’re not the Chosen One he imagined. You’re not a prodigy
in any of your classes. The only thing you really seem to care about is quidditch and having fun
with your new friends.”

“Quidditch is fun.” Harry interrupted stubbornly. “And was I not supposed to want to spend time
with you?”

“Dumbledore had to know if you could do it. He knew you were a demi-god but you didn’t seem
like it. You weren’t stronger or faster, your magical power was good but nothing extraordinary.
He’d been expecting a young Achilles and he got a skinny half-starved kid who almost got caught
helping Fred and George with a prank.” Hermione continued as if he hadn’t interrupted.

“I didn’t get caught though.” Harry interrupted because he still had his pride thank you very much.

Hermione paused in her pacing and gave him a very stern look for interrupting.

“So, he tests you. He puts the philosophers stone in the school to lure You-Know-Who here with
the promise of a new immortal body. He sets up traps that first years could get through and he
waits. He gives you your dad’s cloak for Christmas so that you can sneak around better and makes
it easy for you to stumble on clues about everything.” Hermione said. “The whole thing was a test
to see if you were the Chosen One! And you passed Harry! As an 11 year old you fought off You-
Know-Who by yourself and saved the school.”

“What about the year after that?” Harry asked. “You mentioned the chamber. Do you think he
didn’t do anything about the petrifications because he knew You-Know-Who was behind it and
wanted to see if I could stop him again?”

“And you did. You did it with nothing but an old hat and a bird.” Hermione continued. “But you
still weren’t all-powerful. All records of demi-gods show them as pure powerhouses of magical
energy, but you weren’t. Dumbledore knew you were the chosen one and that you had the heart
and bravery to do what needed to be done, but you didn’t have the power. Something was holding
you back.”

Finally, Harry truly understood.

“He’s just been letting worse and worse things happen to me so that eventually I’ll…I’ll jumpstart
into a whole new power level.”

“Exactly. He’s pushing you as hard as he can so that you can fulfill the prophecy and save the
world. I think he’s getting desperate Harry. Think about it. The last time you spoke with him was
just after Sirius had been murdered right in front of you. You were grieving and desperate and so
angry. He took you to his office and he chose that moment in time to tell you the prophecy.”

Harry choked on nothing. The grip he had on Loki’s hand was the only thing keeping him from
breaking down. Lightning crashed outside their window and a moment later a huge clap of thunder
reverberated around the room.

“It was cruel, Harry. So cruel of him to do that to you. Sirius had just died and then he told you that
you had to save the whole world. He wanted to destroy you emotionally, because maybe that was
what you needed.” Hermione said. “But that didn’t work. All that happened was you fell apart.
After a year of him ignoring you and putting you in emotionally and mentally painful situations
that he did nothing to fix, and then delivering the killing blow you still didn’t…power up.”
“It’s escalating.” The Black Widow jumped in. “He won’t stop until he gets the powerful weapon,
he wants to end this war. The longer it goes before Harry becomes powerful enough the more
people around him will get hurt. You might even be next Miss Granger.”

“I’ve thought of that.” Hermione admitted. “But Harry don’t think this means I’m not with you till
the end I am. I knew from the moment we became friends that it was going to be dangerous. Back
when we were 11 and you saved me from a troll. Ron and I aren’t abandoning you for anything.
We’re with you till the end.”

“I know, ‘Mione. I know.” He blinked rapidly at her show of support.

“Hey Hermione.” Tony Stark said, speaking up. “Harry said you’re a genius. That true?”

It seemed like a really weird change of topic. Hermione turned her head a little and walked back
towards the computer.

“I’m the brightest witch of my age, Mr. Stark.” Hermione said seriously.

“It’s true.” Harry said. “When we were third years she was so smart she convinced the government
to let her use a time travel device, so she could take every class offered at Hogwarts.”

“Time turners are heavily regulated.” Loki said. “It would have been a trial to get one for that.”

“I was very adamant.” Hermione said.

“More like terrifying. That’s a compliment by the way Hermione.”

“I know.” She said with a small smile.

“Well I’ve got to admit.” Tony said. “That’s pretty convincing stuff.”

“Convincing for what?”

“You see I’ve just learnt about the magical world and the fact that witches and wizards can’t use
my tech. Honestly it just…breaks my heart that I can’t make money by selling to magical people.”

“What?” Harry asked at the same time Hermione did.

“Yeah.” Tony said his fingers rubbing the sides of his chin. “I was thinking of asking Lokes here to
help but honestly I don’t think he’d be much good. You on the other hand, you might just do.”

“I think I have more important things to do than…”

“Of course, you don’t. I know you’re young and its summer which means you’ve got at least a
couple of months you could work here. Although…since you are so young I suppose I can’t just
take you without your parents being in the know.”

“That’s called kidnapping.” Hermione said.

“Right. I guess there’s only one solution. I pay for you and your parents to move out here into my
super secure and safe tower. Of course, since they’re dentists I don’t see why they couldn’t just set
up shop here, maybe even be my dentist. Jarvis when’s the last time I saw a dentist?”

“It has been at least 8 years.”

“See!” Tony said. “This is the only solution that works best for me and my wants.”
Hermione was staring at Tony with watery eyes. Even Harry was staring at the man who had just
offered an unbelievable opportunity for Hermione and her parents. Her parents were going to be
safe here. Harry couldn’t believe it.

“I…Can’t believe this.” She said. “I’m getting an…an internship with the Tony Stark. This is…
Harry do you know what this means?”

“I do. You’re going into nerd mode. I’m going to lose you again. I don’t…I don’t know if I can
survive it a second time.” Harry dramatically lifted a hand to his eyes while Hermione started to
shake herself out of her star struck stupor. “It’s just…every time I think about our second year I get
so…frightened. Just imagining that you’d ever start-”

“Harry James Potter if you finish that sentence I will do to you what You-Know-Who never
managed to.”

Hermione really hated being reminded of her Lockhart phase. The other Avengers were all started
to crack up at Hermione’s sheer embarrassment. Harry mimed zipping his lips to keep Hermione
from considering going through with her threat. She took in a deep breath and then spoke very
calmly.

“Thank you so much for the offer Mr. Stark. I’ll need to talk to my parents about it, it’ll take a few
hours since I’ve…broken our house phone. I’ll call back once I know if we’re able to accept.”

The call continued a little while longer after that, but it was mostly filled with Tony heaping more
things to ‘sweeten’ the deal. By the time Hermione managed to get off the call she looked too star
struck for Harry’s liking. But that couldn’t be helped. Genius was Hermione’s…thing. Loki tried to
get him to eat after she hung up, but Harry refused to do anything that wasn’t calling Ron and
telling him next. Tony settled the argument by giving Harry his cellphone and telling him to just
get the phone calls over with.

Telling Ron was…simpler in some ways. Once Harry told Ron to make sure no one was listening
he quickly outlined everything. Ron broke about fifteen cups and plates from his position hiding
out in the kitchen while he listened. He also violently swore to punch Dumbledore out and to tell
all of his brothers so that they’d help him beat up Dumbledore too. The Weasleys were always
ready to throw down it seemed.

The hard part was getting Ron to swear himself to secrecy. That took at least ten minutes. Which
was generally how long it took for Ron’s temper to simmer down. During the entire phone call his
stomach started to make more complaints. The Avengers also enjoyed watching Harry respond to
Ron’s various threats with increasingly desperate pleas for peace. Thor had disappeared at some
point and about halfway through the conversation it started pouring rain. The violence of the storm
was unlike anything he’d ever seen.

He hoped Thor was okay. The man had been so nice to him and Harry didn’t want anything terrible
to happen to him.
 Ah Miscommunication, My Old Friend
Chapter Summary

Harry reveals the prophecy to a group of serious Avengers and then manages to calm
the raging godly storm that is Thor. Of course, things seem to go even further south
between him and his dad.

Chapter Notes

Hey guys! Sorry the chapter's a bit shorter. Finals are next week and I'm a bit busy
finishing up all of my final projects/assignments. Who knew Grad school would be so
time consuming? Thanks for all the great comments last week!

Once Harry finished his call to Ron and he was free to eat, he found himself being mothered into a
seat by Loki, who then put the largest plate full of food he’d ever seen in front of him and told him
to eat. It was a little weird, the way the man hovered. He didn’t say anything for a few minutes
more focused on eating but eventually all of the staring, not just from Loki but from the others was
getting to be too much.

“I’m not a painting.”

“I’m sorry what?”

“You don’t have to stare. I’m just eating breakfast.”

“Right. Of course.” Loki looked away but every few moments he’d glance back.

“That’s almost worse somehow.” Then Harry made a face. “You didn’t watch me while I was
sleeping did you?”

“I wouldn’t do that.”

Harry looked over at the other Avengers and finally Hawkeye broke.

“It was sort of cute. He pet your hair.”

Harry made a small anguished noise at the very thought while Loki called Clint a betrayer. A huge
clap of thunder made Harry duck his head over his food for a moment. He looked outside with a
frown.

“Does it normally rain like this here?”

“When you have the god of thunder living here, yeah it does.” Captain America told him. “It gets
like this whenever something gets him angry.”

“What’s he got to be angry about?”

“Well we all just listened to the same thing right? Your friend telling us just how much of a
scumbag Dumbledore is? How he lied and manipulated you for your entire life all for this
prophecy. You didn’t forget that did you?” Tony asked.

“I didn’t forget. I just don’t see why he’s mad about it.”

“How could he not be?” Loki asked him. “I’m furious about it! We all are!”

Harry could understand Loki’s anger, after all the man had been lied to by his leader. But…the rest
of them didn’t make sense. Harry took a moment to consider what reasons they’d have to truly be
angry about this situation. It wasn’t like they cared about Harry’s misfortune, it wouldn’t make
sense for them too. Maybe he was just too tired to figure it out.

“Okay.” Harry said slowly before going back to eating. “When’s the storm going to end then?”

“No, you don’t just get to change the topic.” Tony said. “You do understand that we are all
outraged about this right?”

“I…do.” All of the Avengers looked very offended and Harry decided to drop it. “Sorry, sorry. I’m
just a bit…overwhelmed today. Nothing on you guys.”

Loki didn’t look like he believed Harry but Harry decided he was done talking about it. So, he
forcibly changed the subject.

“What happened while I was dead to the world?”

“Well.” Loki said. “The others volunteered to help defeat Tom Riddle, since it seems we can’t rely
on the Order for help I’m glad to have a team I can trust. I’ve been training them to take on Death
Eaters and teaching them how to recognize lethal spells.”

Harry froze over his large plate of food. The Avengers wanted to help? Why would they risk
themselves like that? Harry couldn’t let them, he wouldn’t let anyone else die for him. Before any
of those words could spew out of his mouth, Captain America continued.

“This is our job Harry, helping to protect people who can’t defend themselves. We’re glad to do it,
if you’d be willing to tell us anything you know so that we can be better prepared we’d be
grateful.”

The arguments drained out of him. They weren’t fighting for him, they were fighting for the world.
That he could accept. But he would never, ever accept someone dying for him, fighting in his
name. Savior of the world or not, it wouldn’t happen. He nodded slowly, wondering what exactly
they wanted to know. Slowly he lifted up another forkful of his breakfast.

Where to start? What to say?

“I have a question.” Black Widow said, Harry looked at her and she said simply. “Would you mind
telling us the prophecy? Loki told us it could be dangerous but…”

“Sure.” Harry cut her off. “I mean if you think it’ll help. It’s pretty straight forward.”

“Straightforward?” His dad demanded. “Prophecies are very complicated.”

Harry snorted at the idea. He took a drink of water and then spoke in the steadiest voice he could.
It turned out to be not that steady at all, but he felt he should get credit for trying.
“The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice
defied him, born as the seventh month dies. And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he
will have power the Dark Lord knows not. And either must die at the hand of the other for neither
can live while the other survives. The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born
as the seventh month dies.”

Silence. Harry lifted another forkful of food up to his mouth. He knew this was a serious occasion
and honestly those words still haunted him but that didn’t stop him from being so hungry. It took
about five bites of food for Harry to decide to continue.

“Born to those who have thrice defied him. How many times did you fight Tom before you died?”

“Three.”

“And mom?”

“Three.” He answered sounding mutinous. Harry rolled his eyes and continued.

“Born as the seventh month dies. Easy my birthday’s July 31st.”

“You were born at 11:59 at night.” Loki closed his eyes.

“What a coincidence.” Harry said in his most sarcastic voice which made Hawkeye and Stark snort
in near unison. “The Dark Lord will mark him as his equal.”

Carefully he lifted up his hair to show off the awful lightning bolt beneath. At the same time there
was a huge crash of thunder.

“The night my mom was murdered I got this mark from Tom. Before that point there were other
babies that could have been…I’m not the only kid who was born on July 31st with parents who
fought Tom. But Tom decided in his twisted brain that I was the threat, making me his equal when
I was just 15 months old. So you know…there’s that.”

He finished the whole thing lamely, not even sure if he’d won the argument for how
straightforward the prophecy was.

“Neither can live while the other survives?” Hawkeye asked.

“Ron reckons it means that I can’t have a life outside of Tom and well…neither can Tom.” Harry
said. “Tom’s obsessed with killing me, he tries it constantly. Which means I’m obsessed with not
getting murdered. Until one of us dies it’s always going to be like that. I mean…Tom’s gotten so
good at ruining my life, he made me fail an OWL. The history one and I studied for that!”

“An OWL?”

“Sorry. Think of them like…big final exams. You take them at the end of your fifth year of magic
school and if you fail them, it limits what magic classes you can take in the last two years.” Harry
explained. “And I know I failed my history one. Not to mention astronomy.”

“How did you fail?” Loki asked.

Harry groaned at the suspicion his voice. Was this really his life right now? His hunger pushed him
to eat some more of his food while the other Avengers laughed. Outside the storm was still raging.
Was Thor okay?
“How long do these storms last?” Harry asked, looking out the window.

“Your uncle is fine.” Loki said almost carelessly.

“He doesn’t look fine!” Harry motioned at the storm outside.

“Thor does this. He won’t be harmed by a storm of his own making.”

But other people, innocent people will. A dramatic huge lightning bolt strike flashed right outside
the window painting everything in the room in a bright light. The clash of noise made Harry wince.

“Where is he?”

“The roof.” Tony said. “He’ll calm down soon kid.”

Harry’s jaw set stubbornly, and he saw something like a dawning horror in Loki’s eyes as he stood
up.

“How do I get to the roof?”

“Are you crazy kid?” Hawkeye demanded. “The roof is a death zone when Thor is like this.”

“How do I get on the roof?”

“We’re not going to let you go up there! You’ll die.” Harry gave Tony a very sharp look and he
looked a little stunned. “It’s not safe kid.”

“I’ll be fine.” Harry said seriously. “Is it that way?”

He pointed at two doors that suspiciously looked like they’d hold a set of stairs.

“Harry.” Loki said. “I’d really suggest letting your uncle work through this on his own.”

That was good enough for him. He strode past the group towards the door, of course the others
moved to follow him, but no one actually stopped him. He took the stairs two at a time and soon
enough he found himself using more of his strength than he expected to kick the door open. Sure,
enough there was Thor. The man was standing there, the center of an insane storm. Rain stabbed
into Harry’s skin from the force of the wind.

Harry didn’t even flinch at the water or the sound of roaring wind that seemed to destroy any other
noise it came into contact with. Instead he kept walking, his feet steady on the wet slippery roof.
Harry had a suspicion about his life that he was testing, a suspicion Hermione would never
consider because she didn’t like divination. He should be slipping, the wind should pick up his
light body and fling him unforgivably into a building. He shouldn’t have won in the fight against
Amora. Those Death Eaters in the arcade should have been able to take him down.

Some sort of metal debris was flying right at Harry but Harry didn’t stop his march. The metal
veered wildly to the left, missing his hair by inches. He heard someone choke behind him, but he
didn’t bother to check who. Didn’t matter.

“THOR!”

The god heard him, thankfully. He turned, his eyes glowing an unearthly blue before flickering off.
Immediately whatever rage Thor had been venting was replaced with horror. The storm raged on
around them, the wind howling and lightning searing its way across the storm.
“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?” Thor actually balked at Harry’s voice, who felt some
sort of righteous indignation he normally only saved for Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy.

“I…”

“I DON’T WANT TO HEAR IT! STOP THIS STORM THIS INSTANT!”

Immediately the storm clouds began to thin and the wind died as Harry trembled with rage and
upset.

“I can’t believe this! You’re flooding the streets! People live here you know! You can’t just go
around…throwing a tantrum when things don’t go right! Honestly! You’re over 2000 years old!
Act like it!”

Thor switched between looking at the flooded streets far below and Harry’s face looking rather
embarrassed. Harry began to feel a bit pink in the cheeks himself and he cleared his throat.

“I’m just saying. You can’t be hanging out with me if you’re going to make storms like this
anytime something unpleasant happens. I don’t think Mr. Stark should have to pay for water
damages on the 93rd floor a few days from now because you flooded the city.”

“Is your life really so tragic?” Thor asked, his voice sounding fragile.

“It was a joke.” Harry said defensively. He waited for Thor to relax in relief and then added. “But
yeah.”

Thor gave him a look that made Harry laugh and then jerk his thumb behind him.

“Come on. Let’s go back inside and see who can clean out the kitchen of food faster.”

“A contest?” Thor asked a smile finally breaking over his face. “A perfect way to brighten the
morning.”

The sun was shining on the puddles left over from Thor’s fit and the sky was a painfully blinding
blue as they made their way back inside. Harry’s hair was dripping wet and his pajamas were
sopping too. Thor was a lot worse off since he’d been inside the storm since the beginning of it.

“We should umm dry off first.”

“No need.” Loki said waving his hand. Immediately they were both dry and crisp thanks to the
spell. Thor clapped the other man on the back thanking him and Harry made a noise that sounded
like he was mumbling the words thank you.

Most of the other Avengers were looking at Harry like they couldn’t believe he existed and he
decided abruptly that he hated that look. He hunched his shoulders in and walked past the group.

“Nephew.” Thor said, right behind him. “I’m sorry for losing my temper. You’re right. Flooding
this city wasn’t helping anything.”

“It’s fine.” Harry said.

“But you shouldn’t have gone out there. My storms can be very dangerous.” Harry finally turned to
look at the man, Harry lifted up his eyebrows in shock at the man.

“Trust me, mate. I’ve had worse. I should tell you about the chamber of secrets. That was way
stupider than this.”
“Oh?”

So, Harry started telling Thor about the Chamber of Secrets. To his surprise, and pleasure. Thor
didn’t act like any adult he’d ever known before. He wasn’t patronizing like Snape or Dumbledore.
Nor was he overprotective like Mrs. Weasley. He also didn’t take the time to compare everything
Harry did to people he didn’t know like Remus and Sirius. Instead Thor was excited and awed and
treated Harry like he could handle himself.

It was brilliant.

So, Harry told him everything, from the aborted Dueling Club to the Death day party that had been
still one of the weirdest events he’d ever been too. Thor was delighted to know that Harry could
talk to snakes and he lacked any sort of apprehension over it being evil. He also agreed that the
Headless Hunt was being ridiculous for not letting Nearly Headless Nick join them.

Loki made choking pained noises from the other side of the breakfast table as Harry told them
about the basilisk and finding a way into the chamber of secrets to save Ron’s little sister. He had
to spend a little time explaining exactly what a basilisk was to the other Avengers who hadn’t had
to take a class on dangerous magical creatures like Harry, Thor, and Loki.

Thor cheered at all the right times as Harry described the fight with Tom Riddle (the diary version)
and the basilisk. He looked concerned but eager when Harry described losing his wand and
discovering that the journal was actually a memory of Voldemort’s. But then when Fawkes
appeared with the hat and Harry removed a sword from it, Thor whooped so loudly that the
windows vibrated in their frames.

“So here I am, running through the chamber of secrets, the now blinded Basilisk chasing after me,
listening.” Harry said, his voice turning hushed. “I held my breath and hid in a alcove, watching as
the giant snake sniffed and then slithered past.”

Thor was literally on the edge of his seat. Harry described getting back into the main chamber and
climbing up the statue of Slytherin, sword drawn and ready to defend himself.

“And then I jumped.”

“Jumped?”

“Into the basilisk’s mouth.” Harry said. “And I used the sword and pushed it right up into its
brain.”

Thor actually cheered as Harry described the basilisk’s death throes and how Harry ended up at the
feet of the ghostly Tom Riddle, having destroyed his most powerful weapon before he could
release it on the school. Then he gasped when Harry described the realization that he was dying,
that he’d been bitten. Out of the corner of his eye he thought that Loki looked a little green.

“You okay?”

“You were bitten by a basilisk?” Loki nearly shrieked.

“Er…impaled is probably a better…”

Harry’s good mood immediately drained away from him as Loki jumped up and started ranting
about how he couldn’t believe this had happened. Harry felt himself get a little smaller as he
watched his dad get more and more upset about something that Harry didn’t even think of in
negative terms. Sure, being bitten had hurt but Fawkes had fixed him quite quickly. There wasn’t
any reason to get all upset about it. Besides he’d managed to save Ginny too.

He lifted up his arms and hugged himself around the chest and fell back into his chair, waiting for
Loki to start demanding that he let him wrap Harry up in bubble wrap from now on because he
can’t handle anything ever.

“Loki.” Thor said. “Harry wasn’t finished with his story. This is a tale worthy of the mead halls of
Asgard I think, and you’ve interrupted it.”

Loki froze mid-rant and turned to look at them. He looked first at Thor, upset for the interruption
and then at Harry. The fight seemed to drain out of Loki at whatever he saw there and Harry
looked away and back down at his food.

“Right. Of course. Finish your story, Harry.”

It wasn’t as fun that time but he did as he was bid and thankfully Thor acted like nothing was the
matter at all. When it was over and their food had been eaten entirely, Thor clapped Harry on the
shoulder and told him he was a brave warrior for facing such odds to save Ginny. Harry pretended
that he didn’t blush and mumbled out that it wasn’t a big deal.

“It is a big deal.” Thor said his voice rumbling as he peered down at Harry. “You shouldn’t
dismiss your abilities, Harry.”

Harry decided then and there that he really liked Thor.

“Mjolnir, only chooses the best to let her weild her.” Harry assumed that was Thor’s hammer.

“So, it’s like a wand then? It only likes to work with certain people?” He asked.

“Yes exactly. You’re the only other person I’ve met who can weild her.”

“What all can she do then?” Harry asked.

Thor immediately talked about all of the aspects of his beloved hammer and Harry didn’t interrupt
until Thor said something really interesting.

“You can fly? What’s your speed like? What about your turning ability? Maneuverability?”

Thor looked a little bemused but thankfully someone else had sense. Harry found himself
immersed in a conversation about different flight techniques employed by the team with Tony
Stark. Loki would just turn into a bird, Thor used his hammer and Tony used his suit. Tony insisted
his suit had the best capabilities out of all of them, which Thor, Loki and Harry took offense too.

Loki on the grounds that Tony’s suit was eye catching and impossible to miss, which made it
terribly for aerial fights. Thor because Mjolnir was always the best at everything. Harry insisted
that Tony only thought so because he hadn’t seen a Firebolt in action yet. Pretty soon people were
making claims about who could outfly who and Harry didn’t care that his body was still sore. He’d
not lost a flying contest yet and he wasn’t about to start now.

“I’ll get my broom and we’ll prove it then.” Harry said. “Because if you think you’re suit can
outfly the greatest flying broom ever, you’re delusional.”

“Mjolnir was created in the heart of a dying star. She won’t be defeated by mere wood or metal, no
matter how clever.”
“You’re both on.” Tony Stark said. “Loki, where’s a good place I can show these you losers how
it’s done without breaking all those laws you were talking about?”

“I’m not sure if…”

“Come on.” Harry said. “You’re not just going to let him show us up are you?”

He looked pleadingly at Loki and the man instantly crumbled telling them exactly where they
could go to have a flying contest. The other Avengers started planning out exactly what sort of
course they’d need to see what method of flying, and more importantly who was the best flyer.

Harry felt almost lightheaded by the fact that Loki had just given in. Done something that he
thought might be silly just because Harry had asked. He didn’t know what to make of it at all.

“I need to go get my broom.” Harry said, looking over at Loki. “And the rest of my stuff…I mean
if you want me to stay here with you that is…”

“Of course, I want you to stay.” He said. “Where are your things?”

“At my hotel? My key card was in my pocket of the clothing I was wearing before, it’s a portkey
that can take me there…”

“Ah yes. One moment, we’ll go together and once you’ve got your things and checked out, we’ll
come back here.”

Harry nodded in understanding feeling abruptly rather nervous about having Loki come with him.
Had he left the hotel room a mess? Did it matter? Loki left him for a few minutes and returned with
Harry’s new shoes, some clean socks, and the key card. Harry quickly put those things on and then
took the key card.

“I’m not…”

“It’s best if we’re close.” Loki said. “Since it’s a single person…”

“Right. Um.” Harry shifted awkwardly and snuck a look up at Loki to see him looking just as
uncertain.

Screw it.

Harry reached out and grabbed Loki’s hand, tugged him so that he was right next to Harry. At the
same time Harry pressed the top of the card and felt the familiar tugging sensation around his
navel. Loki reached out and latched onto Harry in a weird mockery of a hug. Something about it
made Harry’s skin feel wrong so the moment they landed with a thud on Harry’s hotel bed he was
rolling out of the hug and getting onto his feet despite the dizziness of the situation.

Loki looked a little confused from his position of half standing and crouching on the bed.

“I’m gonna…get out of my pajamas.” Harry said stumbling over to his school trunk and quickly
grabbing whatever clothing he’d stuffed inside most recently. It didn’t take long at all for Harry to
get dressed and pack everything up. Loki spent most of that time looking out the window up at
Stark, Harry thought he almost looked stupefied that Harry had been so close. “I was…well I knew
you lived there but I didn’t know how to get inside without…”

“So, you were what? Stalking me?”

“I was determined.” Harry sniffed. “I’m going to check out real quick and then we can get back.”

It took him all of about 30 seconds to use the magical pamphlet he’d been given upon checking in
to check out. Once that was done, he picked up his broom while Loki picked up the trunk and
shrunk it so it could fit in his pocket.

“Harry, are you sure you’re up for flying? You were…”

“I’m fine. It’s going to be fun.”

“It’s just you can’t be using too much magic for the next few days. Flying shouldn’t be a problem
because the magic’s in the broom not in you but you need to rest your magic, or you could really
hurt yourself.”

“I know.” Harry said. “I’m not stupid.”

“I didn’t say you were. I’m just trying…”

“Can we just go back before they have this contest without me?”

He hadn’t meant to sound so curt. Harry winced a little but Loki didn’t see that. He was looking out
the window instead of at Harry. Harry struggled trying to come up with an apology but he couldn’t
before Loki acted. The man nodded and held out a hand. Harry took it and prepared himself for the
hug that Loki would pull him into. Only for the man to surprise him again but teleporting them in a
ring of green fire, while just lightly holding Harry’s hand. They arrived back right where they’d
left, although now a lot of the Avengers were gone.

“You’re back!” Thor said. “Come on. Clint’s gotten the Quinjet ready, time to prove ourselves
nephew.”

“You’re going to lose.” Harry said easily stepping away from Loki while brandishing his broom.
“Nothing outflies a Firebolt.”

He didn’t look back at Loki as they went to the Quinjet, which Harry assumed was some sort of
plane based on the name. Apparently, the hug thing had been a one-off sort of thing. Loki hadn’t
wanted to hug him, it was an instinct thing because of the portkey. That was fine. Wasn’t like
Harry needed a hug from his dad, he’d gotten on just fine before. He ignored the disappointment in
his gut that he’d been too shocked and weirded out to actually enjoy the hug. The first one, back at
the arcade had been just as awkward but for different reasons. Maybe Harry just wasn’t good at it?

The quintjet turned out to be an actual jet that had enough seats for all of them. Harry listened as
Tony, now in his Iron Man suit, explained exactly how the competition was going to work. It was
meant to a be a trial that tested speed and versatility in the air. Which wasn’t going to be a problem
for Harry at all. Tony helped him get buckled into a seat with his broomo safely nearby and Thor
sat down right next to him.

As they flew, with Clint at the helm, Harry snuck looks at his dad. This morning things had seemed
a lot…smoother. Loki had been worried about the scar and had held his hand during the call with
Hermione. He’d been nice and the conversation about Quidditch had been really good. But now
Loki wasn’t sitting near him on the jet, wasn’t even looking at him. How had Harry ruined it
already?

Harry had no doubt it was his fault somehow. Maybe he’d been too weird for Loki, or too difficult.
Lots of adults found Harry difficult. Or perhaps it was the fact that he had his mum’s eyes that
bothered the man. So many people had reacted similarly to Harry in the past, why would Loki be
any different? Was it the prophecy? Did Loki blame him for the prophecy? Did he blame Harry for
his mum’s death? His mom would still be alive if it weren’t for Harry after all.

Whatever. That was fine. Harry hadn’t come here expecting to get along with Loki. The fact that
Thor was cool was just an unexpected bonus. If Loki didn’t want him, then Harry could easily
spend time with the god of thunder. Harry slid closer to Thor and asked him a question about his
ability to call storms out of nothing and didn’t look at Loki while Thor answered.

He pretended it didn’t hurt.

 Ron Weasley and the Midnight Excursion
Chapter Summary

Harry competes in a flying contest and Loki realizes just how little prepared he is to
talk to his own son.

Chapter Notes

Hey guys sorry the update's a bit later than normal. It's finals week and things are
busy. I'll get back into the groove of things soon enough.

Loki’s teeth were about to crack. He didn’t care as he watched his son, Thor and Tony get ready to
fly against one another. They were setting up a track, the idea being that each person would fly
through it one at a time to prove their prowess. Loki’s jaw clenched as Thor ruffled Harry’s hair
and the boy didn’t push him off.

“So we need to prove that we’re the fastest and who can move the best.” Tony said.

“I’ve got the paintball guns.” Clint said.

“Paintball guns?” Loki asked, finally stepping forward.

“Well yeah. We’re going to see who can dodge the best.”

“By firing projectiles at them?”

“It’s just paint it won’t even bruise. Tony’s in his armor and Thor’s a god.” Harry said, giving him
a look as if to dare him to argue. Loki’s tongue pushed against the back of his teeth. Everything in
him begged to pull his son to his chest and declare that his son wasn’t yet fit for this kind of
activity and even if he was there was no way that he would allow anyone to fire a paintball gun in
his direction. But then Loki remembered Harry’s face when Loki had started his rant about the
basilisk.

Right. He wouldn’t treat him like a child. He could do this.

“Fine.” He said as if it didn’t matter. Loki looked away, missing the look of frustration and
disappointment coming from his son. “Who’s starting?”

“I will.” Thor said his voice serious.

“Alright Thor, you’ll start here.” Clint said. “You have to fly through these trees without hitting
any of them as well as dodge the paintballs that Nat and I will be firing at you. Follow the red flags
that I set up, that’s the course. Don’t go above the tree line. Bruce’ll be at the finish line with the
timer. Each time you hit or are hit with something we’ll add five seconds to your time.”

“A fine race.” Thor declared stepping forward.

Everyone got into position while Loki stared at the back of his son’s messy head. How was Thor
interacting with him so seamlessly? Thor could touch Harry on the arm or head and the boy didn’t
jump away as if he’d been touched by acid. Thor could laugh and joke and Harry didn’t respond
with a caustic, judgmental tongue. Meanwhile Loki couldn’t even do one thing around his son
without it ending in shambles.

It was just like Asgard all over again. Thor the favored one while Loki was the disparaged. No. No
Loki wouldn’t allow it. Thor would suffer if he thought he could steal his son away from him. Thor
was going to back off after this. Loki was Harry’s father. Loki was the one who was supposed to
help him and make him laugh and protect him. He could do this. The difficulty of the challenge
meant little. Loki was a master of strategy.

He’d gotten Lily Evans to fall in love with him. He could gain his son’s affection.

Thor stepped up to the start. Everyone counted down and when Tony made a bell ring from his
suit, Thor rushed off. Almost immediately Thor broke a branch off of a tree. Thor had many skills,
but dodging had never been one of them, Mjolnir as a tool for flight was fast. That was about it
though. It was a hammer designed to hit things and block blows. It was more inclined to break
through an obstacle than move around it. Which perfectly matched Thor, in the end.

Thor followed the red flags and attempted to zip in between the trees, often clipping off branches
on his way. He also had no sense of warning meaning that he got hit with the bright purple paint a
far few times. Halfway through the flight Thor realized he’d never win on maneuverability so he
poured all of his energy into speed. Probably banking on the fact that if he was the absolute fastest,
even the hits he took wouldn’t matter. A not terrible plan but he didn’t account The Hawk’s
absolutely phenomenal aim.

By the end of his run Thor was covered in spots of bright purple paint. He looked like Barney.
Harry and Tony were both jeering at him from the other end of the race while Thor dared them to
do better.

“Well, kid.”

“Oh no. Age before beauty. I insist.”

“Are you calling me old?”

“You’re the one who used those words not me.”

“You’re going down Potter.”

“Brave words for a guy in a metal suit.”

Tony lowered his face mask and told everyone to start the countdown. He rushed off right as the
bell rang, his suit taking him quickly into the air. Stark’s programming on the suit allowed him a
greater range of movement. He had to go much slower lest he ram into any trees but he was able to
flit between the trunks and thicker branches. Loki didn’t pay as much attention to the flight as he
would have liked, far more fascinated with the sight of his son.

It was just the two of them standing in the clearing, watching Tony follow the bright red flags. This
would be the time to say something, anything to his son. ‘Hello’ seemed too simple. ‘How are you’
was ridiculous. ‘Congratulations on slaying a basilisk if we were on Asgsard Odin himself would
honor you with a feast for your bravery. I’m sorry if I made you feel poorly, I’m just worried’. No,
no that was far too honest for him.
Maybe Loki tell Harry about how much like his mother he was. Just that morning when Harry had
dressed down Thor in the middle of one of his tantrums. The fire and the kindness in his green
eyes, his sheer indignation. It was like Lily was standing before him. He could see all the love and
kindness in his eyes that Lily’s had once held. Would it be odd if Loki told Harry that? If Loki
admitted how glad he was that Harry had inherited his mother’s heart and fire? It would serve his
son far better than Loki’s own.

No, no that would be odd wouldn’t it? Harry hardly even knew his mother. Perhaps he didn’t want
to be reminded of her. Did he? Loki had no clue.

Why was this so difficult?

“So.” Loki said breaking the silence.

“Yeah?”

“You mentioned the history OWL. Are there any classes you did well in?” He tried to sound
nonjudgmental and only interested. He wanted to know what parts of magic fascinated his son. He
needed to know. Harry shifted awkwardly and looked at his feet.

“I’m not sure? I don’t really do well on tests.”

“That’s fine.” Loki said, trying to find a way to comfort the young man without it being odd. “Not
everyone can excel.”

Ahead of them Stark was getting hit by Natasha and Clint both. His suit glistening in the afternoon
sun making it easy for him to be spotted. With the narrow space left to maneuver Stark had little
chance to dodge but he managed until Hawkeye started aiming at the armor’s legs and feet.
Apparently, his suit couldn’t sense things from that angle and Stark couldn’t feel the hits from the
balls of paint. When Stark burst out from the trees and landed at the end of the race track, he
immediately started to crow about having a perfect run. Bruce had quietly pointed at the man’s
now purple feet and the man had howled in outrage.

Next to him Harry laughed a little, the awkwardness from their stilted conversation falling away.

“Guess it’s my turn.” He said making Loki desperately want to conjure a helmet for him. “I’ll see
you on the other side. START THE COUNT DOWN!”

Harry straddled his broom, a newer design that looked so different from the Comet series brooms
Loki had used back in the day. When the bell rang Harry blasted off. Unlike his competitors Harry
flew insanely low to the ground, his feet tucked up against the broom so that he could be mere
inches from the grassy forest floor. It allowed him to entirely miss the branches. He only raised
himself up when a bush or bramble got in his way.

Loki’s mouth dropped open as he watched his son fly. Harry moved with a grace that would’ve
made professional quidditch players drool. He took sharp turns that had him flying along the
curves of the tree trunks, missing the bark of them by a hair’s breadth. Clint and Natasha tried to
aim at him, but with the branches in between them and him acting as a cover he was much safer
than the other two competitors had been.

It meant that he was covered from Natasha but Clint wasn’t earth’s best archer for no reason. His
abilities were far beyond a normal man. He aimed in between the branches and summer foliage.
Loki’s heart leapt up as the paint ball moved towards his son’s head. Harry without even turning
his head flattened his body along the shaft of his broom and the ball flew right above his head,
splattering on a trunk behind him.

He heard Clint curse and fire again. Harry, still laying on his broom, roughly pulled the broom so
that he took a nearly right angle turn upwards, dodging both the paintball and a tree in front of him.
He turned again before he broke the tree line, having managed to move between outstretching
branches and then flew straight down again in a perfect Wronski Feint. He pulled up moments
before the ground, his feet dragging along the grass. Clint kept firing but Harry had a supernatural
ability to know when they were coming. His magic reaching out around him and warning him with
enough time to dodge.

Harry flew out from the mix of trees free of paint and with a huge grin on his face. Loki teleported
to the finish line right as Harry arrived. Loki knew immediately what he had to do. The James
Potter in him rushed up ready to babble about how fantastic a quidditch player his son had to be.
Ideas about seeker’s matches and games they could play on brooms together filled his brain. This
was the way to do it. Loki knew.

Before he could Thor bellowed his laughter and pulled Harry into a back breaking hug.

“I can’t believe it.” Stark said looking down at Bruce’s time. “That shouldn’t have been possible.
My suit is…”

“Not as good as a wooden broom.”

“Shut it.”

Clint and Natasha came out of the trees. Clint shouting about how he’d never before missed in his
life and he can’t believe he’d been shown up. Natasha kept listing times she’d seen him miss which
didn’t help his case. Bruce was looking far too amused as he tried to comfort Tony. Thor took up
all of Harry’s attention. Loki knew he could steal it back but based on the glowing look on his
son’s face it wouldn’t be appreciated.

The words died in his throat as he watched everyone congratulate his son on the amazing flying.
Somewhere in Valhalla Loki had no doubt Lily was shaking her head at him for being a coward.
But what was he to do? Lily would know what to do wouldn’t she? Granted Loki doubted that
Harry would be as fractious around his mother. There was no one in the nine realms who’d feel ill
at ease around the woman.

He wished he could talk to her.

Everyone moved back to the Quinjet, with Harry the uncontested winner. Chatter filled Loki’s ears
as he tried to imagine what Lily would do. Well Lily wouldn’t have allowed the contest in the first
place. He still remembered how she’d scolded him for letting their baby on a training broom when
Harry was barely a year old. But if the flying contest had happened, what would Lily have done?
His wife would be able to reach their son. Loki didn’t notice the looks that Harry was sending him,
too focused on finding a way to reach out to Harry.

When they settled down in the Quinjet Harry had somehow managed to snag a seat farthest away
from Loki. The flight back to the Tower was spent with Loki glaring at Thor for taking the seat
next to his son and wishing that he knew what he was doing wrong. Harry had to like him, right?
Loki didn’t know how he’d react if Harry didn’t want a thing to do with him.

They got back to the tower in short order and had lunch. Thankfully the others took the cue to
make themselves scarce so that it was only Loki and Harry eating together.
“So. The flying, it was good.”

“You think so?”

“Yes. It’s not surprising you must have gotten it from me. I remember, I used to fly all the time.”
Harry’s face was warming up to the conversation. All was not lost. “I used to practice in the
hallways. Not flying but quidditch skills. I had this snitch I used to carry around and catch while
me and the others were looking for trouble.”

Then abruptly something shuttered down in his son’s expression.

“What sort of trouble?” He asked.

“Oh you know. Pranks, mischief.”

“And you’d just prank anyone?” Harry pushed.

“Well yes. We had a few people we liked to target especially but no one was really safe.”

“Right.” And with that Harry turned back to poking at his lunch.

“What does that mean?” Loki asked.

“Nothing.”

“It doesn’t sound like nothing.”

“I just don’t get it!” Harry said looking at him, eyes blazing. “Why do you sound so proud of that?”

“Having fun with my friends?”

“Terrorizing people!” Loki knew at the moment that they were talking about something very
different. Was this Harry’s way of taking him to task over the invasion? Loki prepared to explain
himself.

“Harry, I don’t take pride in that. I’ve never been proud of the mistakes I’ve…”

“You sounded proud of them.”

“What…?”

“I saw you!” Harry said. “A memory of you go up to a student and use magic to lift him up by his
ankle! He wasn’t even doing anything and you just humiliated him in front of everybody!”

Loki knew immediately what memory that was. It wasn’t one of his proudest moments. It was
something that looking back he could feel nothing but disgust about. Snape might have been an
absolutely awful sniveling fool but that had been cruel.

“And then when mum told you to stop you just said you would if she went out with you!” Harry
said, his tone filled with hurt. “I just…how could you do that?”

“I can’t defend that Harry I was…” Loki realized that saying he’d been trying to impress Lily
wouldn’t go well. “How did you even see that memory?”

That wasn’t something that Sirius or Remus or Peter would’ve shown Harry was it?
“Is that what all your pranks were like?” Harry asked. Is that what you were like?

“I promise you that we weren’t always so awful.” Loki said trying to salvage anything from this
sinking ship.

“Is that all you can say?” Harry demanded. “That you weren’t so awful?”

His silver tongue left him while Harry looked at him like the world was falling down around him.
The pain in his green eyes was devastating. Harry got up from his chair before Loki could marshal
up a defense. Loki found himself sitting alone in the penthouse wondering why he couldn’t even
get along with his own flesh and blood. Perhaps it was better if Thor took the reigns. It was
obvious Loki wasn’t good enough for Harry.

Thor could weild Mjolnir. Thor had a good heart.

Loki didn’t know how long he sat there stewing in his upset, the mid-afternoon turning to evening.
Jarvis let him know that his son was in his room and wasn’t taking visitors. Eventually Thor came
to find him. Loki was torn between stabbing the thunderer, yelling at him, and pretending that he
wasn’t even there.

“I take it that the conversation didn’t go well?”

“Well deduced.”

“Don’t be like that.” Thor said. “What happened?”

“He thinks I’m a monster, a bully.” Loki said after a few moments of silence. “And he hates me.
He doesn’t want me to be worried about me, he doesn’t want me to hug him. He doesn’t want to
talk about school or quidditch or anything. He feels far more at ease with you than he ever will me
and I ought to…How did you not explode when he told you about that basilisk?”

Basilisks were the one creature that even the ever confident Thor would balk at facing alone. Odin
had demanded their extinction when Loki was but a small boy. He could still remember the
warriors who went out to slay a basilisk and never came home, either eaten alive or turned to stone.
Thor sat down in the seat Harry had vacated, a half eaten plate of food still there, now cold.

“I admit I almost lost my composure.” Thor said. “Just the idea of him having been bitten? I know
I almost broke the arm rest I was holding.”

Loki snorted while Thor continued.

“I knew that he needed me to be excited and so I just…forced it.”

“But how?”

“He’s like you.”

“He’s nothing like me. He’s just like Lily. It took me over six years to get Lily to even be my
friend.”

The fact that he didn’t have six years of time for his son was left unsaid. The war was on and there
was danger everywhere. He needed his son to trust him now before another tragedy struck.

“He’s your son and I have a lot of experience dealing with you.” Thor insisted. “I remember the
first time you tried sky-walking.”
“What does that have to do with it? You freaked out.” It was pretty funny in retrospect.

“I did and then you didn’t talk to me for three months because I was treating you like a baby.” Loki
laughed, his mind marveling over that. Thor reached out and placed a hand on his arm. “We need
to find someone who knows Harry and we need to talk to them. I was lucky today that treating him
like I did you all those years ago worked. That won’t last forever.”

“He’s got so many scars, so many secrets.” It’s impossible was what Loki didn’t say.

“And so you’re going to give up on your son? No. I won’t allow it. Now think, there must have
been someone he mentioned. Someone you know.”

His first thought was of Hermione but he had no clue where she lived. He couldn’t turn to any of
his own friends, they all thought him dead and that would eventually get back to Dumbledore. But
then who?

“Ron.” Loki said. “He’s a Weasley. I know where Molly and Arthur live. I can see Harry’s friend
Ron.”

“We’ll go together.” Thor said. “Hopefully we can convince Ron to help us. He seemed quite
defensive of Harry on the phone.”

“He did, didn’t he?” Loki got up. “Jarvis, ask Tony to bring Harry some food.”

“Of course sir.”

“Come on Thor. Let’s go get some answers.”

Thor easily took Loki’s outstretched hand and within moments a plume of green fie had taken them
from New York to the outside of a very odd magical house. It looked larger than Loki remembered,
new parts had been added since the last he’d been there. But it still had the same charm and feeling
of home.

“It’s…unique.” Thor said trying to muster up a polite compliment.

“It’s The Burrow and trust me, when we’re actually invited inside you’ll love it. At least for
Molly’s cooking.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

It was late here. Well past dinner time and probably around the time that normal people would
retire for bed.

“Stay here.” Loki said. “I’m going to find Ron.”

“Be careful.”

Loki carefully cast a spell, his magic searching for the people living in the home. He recognized
the magic signatures of Molly and Arthur. As well as the magical markings of the children he’d
met before going into hiding. The twins, who’d been mere babes at the time as well as Percy. There
were two he didn’t know. A girl and a boy. The girl must be Ginny, the one Harry had saved from
the basilisk.

“Gotcha.” Loki looked up to the tallest part of the house where there was a slightly open window.
That had to be Ron’s room. Loki conjured up some small flat stones and began to toss them with
unerring accuracy. They landed on the windows with a clatter before falling back to earth. It took
four hits before there was noise and the window swung open wider.

A young man who looked almost exactly like a younger Arthur had as a fifth year stuck his head
out.

“I swear to Merlin, Fred if that’s…” He trailed off and looked down at Loki. “Mr. Potter?”

“It’s me.” Loki said nodding. “Come down here. We need to talk.”

Ron frowned and looked at him very suspiciously.

“What’s the password to the Maurader’s Map?”

“I solemnly swear I’m up to no good.” Ron nodded and the suspicion melted from his face.

“What do you want?”

“I’m having problems with Harry. Look, can we please talk in the backyard?” Loki begged.

“I’ll be down in a tic.” Ron’s head disappeared and Loki quickly got Thor and led him to the
backyard. Within a minute they were joined by the sleepy freckled face of his son’s best friend.

Ron was carrying one of Arthur’s old mage lights that the man had stuck to the end of a stick. Ron
plunged the bottom end of the stick into the ground so that they had a better light source than the
stars.

“It is an honor to meet you.” Thor said.

“Yeah, you too sir.” Ron said holding out his hand. Thor immediately shook it and the boy mostly
hid his grimace at the strong grip. “Now what’s this about Harry?”

“I keep…offending him.” Ron nodded thoughtfully and crossed his arms over his white and blue
pajamas.

“You were right to come to me. Tell me exactly what happened. Don’t leave anything out.”

Ron settled down on the slightly wet ground and insisted the rest of them did too as Loki told the
story of what had happened today since the phone call that morning. During most of it Ron looked
thoughtful, sometimes he gave Loki a dirty look but thankfully the red head refrained from saying
anything until he was done.

“Well no wonder Harry’s so angry with you.” Loki opened his mouth to defend himself but Ron
waved him off. “It’s not your fault. You’ve not been here. It’s Dumbledore’s fault. Speaking of
which, when you go after him leave a piece big enough for me to kick.”

“Will do.” Loki promised.

“Good. Now, about Harry.” Ron said. “What I’m about to tell you, you’ve got to swear you won’t
tell a single soul that you know. Especially not Harry. He’ll kill me if he finds out I told you
anything. But if you want to help him you’ve got to know and I know he’ll never tell you
anything.”

“I swear on my hammer never to tell a single soul.” Thor said.

“And I swear on my wife’s grave.”

“Good.” Ron said. “The first thing you gotta know is that Harry doesn’t…know how to do touch.”

“Touch?”

“Hugs, handshakes, high fives. All of it. He’s not good with ‘em. He likes being hugged and stuff
but if you give him one when he’s not expecting it he’ll act like he’s a cat that got sprayed with
water. Best time to give him a hug is after a big quidditch win. Like when Thor hugged him after
the flying contest. He takes those best.”

“But why?” Thor asked.

“He never got touched as a kid.” Ron said, his voice turning dark and frustrated. “I know I was the
first person to ever give him a hug when we were 11, I gave him one just right after Halloween and
he was spooked for three days after.”

“Where did Dumbledore leave him after that night?” Loki demanded.

“With his Aunt Petunia.” Ron said. “You know his mum’s sister.”

“Tuni? That vile, hateful woman?”

“Yeah, she’s gotten worse with age.” Ron admitted. “And her husband is even worse. Once I had to
rescue Harry from their house before they starved him to death.”

“What?”

And so the story of the flying car incident was revealed. Harry’s mortal uncle had locked Harry up
in a prison like room for days at a time because of magic that Harry hadn’t actually done, only
feeding him one can of uncooked soup a day. Vernon had even put bars on the window in an
attempt to keep Harry inside. Ron and the twins had freed Harry and taken him to the burrow for
the rest of the summer.

The longer Ron spoke the angrier all of them grew. Thor had to grip Mjolnir very tightly to keep
another storm from dumping right on their heads.

“I’ve tried to be there for him as much as I can.” Ron finished. “I send him food now over the
summers so that he gets enough. Hermione does too.”

“I will kill them.” Thor said. “I’m going to…”

“Later.” Loki said. “We’ll punish them later.”

Thor nodded his expression thunderous.

“I’ve got some advice for you.” Ron said. “About Harry at least.”

“Any wisdom you can give.”

“Never say he’s lying. People have done that way too often and it always pisses him off. Harry
only lies when he thinks he has to so that he can protect the people he loves.” Ron said. “If you
make a mistake, apologize as soon as you can. Harry can’t hold a grudge to save his life. We once
had this huge fight in our fourth year and I apologized eventually and things were just fine after. He
wants to get along with you, you just have to be willing to work with him.”

Loki nodded. He could apologize, he could.

“Tell him how you feel.” Ron said. “Be honest as you can. Harry doesn’t read the subtle stuff right.
His relatives taught him to always think the worse of everything. If there’s anything not clear about
what you say then Harry’s going to think the worst. Every time. When McGonagall tried to put him
on the quidditch team she wasn’t clear about it and he thought he was being expelled for like thirty
whole minutes. I promise you the reason Harry’s acting like that is because he thinks you hate
him.”

“What? No I don’t…”

“You didn’t make him wear a helmet.” Ron said. “In the flying contest. My mum makes me wear a
helmet, even when we’re just playing the backyard. He’s probably thinks that you didn’t say
anything about him begin safe because you don’t care if he is or not.”

“I didn’t want to suffocate him!” Ron just shrugged.

“So, we should be honest.” Thor said. “I can do that. What else?”

“Don’t freak out when he tells you bad stuff? I mean you can get mad but if you’re not careful he’ll
never tell you anything ever again. Harry’s told me practically nothing about his relatives and I
know that the little stuff he does drop is just a fraction of the truth. If I freak out when he shares he
won’t ever again.”

“Right.” Loki said. “Okay. Okay. Anything else?”

“Tell him about his mum.” Ron said. “And about you too. Harry’s always been curious about his
parents.”

“When I tried we argued.”

“That’s cause of Snape.”

“Severus Snape?”

Ron scowled and muttered about the greasy potions master. It took very little prompting for the
passionate Gryffindor to rant about the head of Slytherin who liked to bully everyone, especially
Harry. Apparently for the last 5 years Snape had been going after Harry as a way to get revenge for
all of the pranks and bullying that Loki had done to Snape in their youth. It was childish and awful
and Loki suddenly understood exactly why Harry had been so angry at him.

“You get it now, right?”

“Yes. Yes I do. Thank you so much, you’ve no idea how much I owe you.”

“Just make sure he’s happy. I don’t care what you have to do but make sure my friend is happy.
Please.”

“We have a similar goal.” Thor said.

“Good. When you guys get ready to come back to Britain you can come here. I know my parents’ll
side with you. They see Harry as one of theirs and no one crosses a Weasley like that.”

“Thank you. I knew your parents well before all of this. I’m glad to know I can trust them.” Loki
said honestly. “Don’t tell anyone we were here. Once Harry’s recovered from his magical
exhaustion we’ll be coming back. Tom Riddle will not live to see this year end if I’ve anything to
say about it.”
Ron took his leave looking pleased with himself, the night having truly fallen. Thor and Loki,
despite desperately wanting to take a detour to Little Winging, went back to the tower. Thor
clapped his hand on Loki’s shoulder.

“Go to Harry. Leaving him alone any longer won’t do anyone any good.”

“Yes, you’re right.”

It was very easy to teleport down a few floors so that he was right outside the guest bedroom that
Tony had set aside for Harry. Carefully Loki knocked on the door.

“Go away Tony!”

“It’s me.” Silence met his declaration. Loki laid his head on the door and spoke as calmly as he
could. “Can I come in?”

“I don’t want to talk to you!” Harry’s voice sounded closer to the door.

“Please, Starlight, I really need to talk to you.”

“What’d you call me?”

“Starlight. I called you Starlight. It’s what I used to call you when you were a baby because you
were my bright spot of happiness.” Silence. Loki wondered and feared if that that had been too
honest. The door opened just a crack. A bit of his son’s hair and one of his eyes stuck out through
the opening.

“What?”

“Can I please come in and talk to you? I want to apologize for today, I didn’t handle anything
well.”

“You want to apologize?”

“Please Starlight?”

It was a small eternity of waiting but eventually Harry closed his eyes and let the door fall open
entirely. Loki swallowed and took a step inside. He could do this. He had to be honest, no more
miscommunication.
 A Veil around the Starlight
Chapter Summary

Harry and Loki finally begin to clear the air over Asgardian tea and biscuits.

Chapter Notes

Hey everybody! Thanks so much to everyone who commented last week! I felt a lot of
love and appreciation for Ron.

Harry shuffled away from the door, letting it swing open so that his dad could come in. He knew
he’d been acting like a big baby since their fight just after the flying contest. Tony had tried to
bring food over and despite being absolutely ravenous Harry had declined, again and again. He
didn’t know why but the thought of eating right then in his self-exile made his stomach threaten
violent protest. So he’d laid in bed and he’d glared at the too soft sheets.

And now his dad was here. Probably to yell at him for being rude to Tony, even though he hadn’t
been…at least not very much. And Harry was going to yell right back because his dad was a bully
and maybe Snape had been right all along. Harry ignored how fond Loki sounded when he called
him Starlight. That was just an anomaly. A trick. Harry looked down at his bare feet and wondered
how long Loki was going to make him wait.

“Starlight?” Loki asked, his voice soft. “Are you okay? Is your scar hurting you?”

Harry looked up a little and felt almost scalded by the naked concern in Loki’s eyes. He shook his
head. No, his scar was fine. It had only hurt this morning because of the vision. The headaches
he’d been dealing with for the past year had pretty much passed which was probably the best thing
about removing the spells Loki had placed on him.

“I’m fine.” He lied, ignoring the hunger pains in his stomach. Loki nodded and didn’t push him.

“Would it be alright if we sat down then? Maybe we could talk over some tea?”

Tea sounded nice. Harry nodded and he found himself sitting back on the large bed. The room
didn’t have any chairs and Loki didn’t offer to conjure any. Harry leaned up against the solid oak
headboard with his legs crossed carefully. Across from him his dad sat, conjuring up some tea and
biscuits from somewhere. At least Harry thought they were biscuits, they looked different from an
anything he’d ever had. Carefully Loki pushed a plate of the biscuits towards him with magic so
that they floated perfectly towards him. The cup of tea came next and Harry grabbed it and cradled
it in his hands, careful not to crush the delicate ceramic. The tea smelt oddly spicy and aromatic;
unlike anything he’d ever sniffed before.

“It’s from Asgard.” Loki told him. “From a plant that your grandmother grows in her personal
gardens. It’s supposed to be calming.”
“Oh.” Harry took a sip and made a small humming noise at the lightly spicy sweet taste. “It’s
good.”

“I had hoped you’d like it. Your mother did as well.” Loki said. “She really grew a taste for it when
she was pregnant with you. Begged me for a cup every thirty minutes it felt like.”

Harry looked back down at the light brown liquid, almost trying to read the settling tea leaves to
find more evidence of his mum.

“You remind me of her.”

“I do?” Harry asked, looking up from the tea and then regretting it when he remembered what
exactly his eyes looked like.

“It’s not just your eyes.” Loki said as if he was reading his mind. “You have her heart. Your
mother was kind and brave and fiery. I know that you are your own person but it’s still nice to see
that you took after her.”

There was a naked kind of longing in the man’s voice. Harry took another sip of the tea.

“You miss her?”

“Constantly. Today I couldn’t help but wish she was here because I know she’d be able to help you
better than I ever could. I’m afraid out of the two of us you might have gotten the shorter end of the
stick.” Loki gave him a soft sad smile and then picked up one of the biscuits. “You should try
these. They’re from Asgard too, one of my favorite treats. Don’t tell Thor I have any, he always
tries to steal them from me.”

Harry took his advice and picked up a biscuit from the floating plate. He took a small bite and
understood immediately why Thor would steal them. It was a flavor entirely alien to his tongue,
but the soft, buttery texture combined with the combination of sweet and salty was delightful.
Harry’s next bite was significantly larger. Loki grinned and took a bite of his own.

“When you were very young.” Loki said after swallowing his mouthful. “I had plans on how I was
going to introduce everything from Asgard to you. I’d even gone so far as to write out the order of
things so that every new step would be an exciting discovery. I know that things are different now
but I do want to share everything that I can with you. Magic, Asgard, everything.”

“Even if I’m bad at magic?” Harry asked, the few bites of his biscuit curdling in his stomach at the
reminder of their conversation earlier that day.

“What?”

“You told me not everyone can excel.” The man’s face twisted for a moment before he took in a
deep breath and spoke.

“I meant that not everyone can excel at tests.” Loki corrected. “Sometimes written exams are the
worst way to tell how well someone knows a subject.”

“Oh.” Harry took an awkward sip of his tea.

“Harry, you’re an excellent magic user.” Loki said. “And I’m not saying that just to say it. I saw
you flying today, that takes a lot of skill.”

“Flying isn’t…it’s just flying. It’s not like potions or…or charms.” Harry argued.
“Harry you used your magic today. When Clint was firing at you with those paintballs you were
able to sense them coming well before what your mundane senses would’ve allowed you to. You
were listening to your magic and reacting accordingly.” Loki told him. “That takes skill and it is
the mark of a true sorcerer. That same skill is what I use in my own battles.”

Harry thought back to that and wondered if it was true. He couldn’t recall casting a spell or
anything. But if Loki was being honest then apparently he had done some sort of magic.

“I didn’t cast a spell.”

“No. It’s a passive magic. It means you listen with your…” Loki trailed off at Harry’s face and
then he tried again. “Here let me show you.”

The man put down his cup, it started floating in the air and spinning slowly on its axis, and held
out his hands. It took a moment for Harry to follow suit, mostly because he didn’t know if his cup
was going to float too or not. Loki took his hands gently in his own and then asked him to close his
eyes. Harry did a little reluctantly. Abruptly he felt something tingling in his fingers and he opened
his eyes again to find that nothing had happened. He looked up at Loki who was smiling at him.

“Tingling?”

“Yes? What is that?’

“It’s my magic. You’re sensing my magic with your own.” Loki said. “Later I can teach you more.
This sort of skill is a gift Harry. With training you could sense dark magic in objects, and you
could even be able to identify what sorts of enchantments are on an object. You’ll be able to tell if
something is hexed or potioned. Not everyone can do this and the fact that you figured out how to
do it naturally, probably just so that you could better dodge bludgers is nothing short of
phenomenal.”

Harry suspected it wasn’t bludgers but rather Dudley’s fat fists that had facilitated that. But Harry
didn’t say so.

“You think?”

“I know.” Loki insisted. “You are already very good at magic for your age but you have so much
potential and that doesn’t have anything to do with being a demi-god, you were talented before
that.”

Harry pulled his hands away and picked up the warm cup of tea. He wasn’t sure how to respond to
that at all so he just didn’t. Loki didn’t seem to mind.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” Harry asked.

“I wanted to apologize for today. I wasn’t very…clear about some things.” Loki said. “I’m not
naturally very open about how I feel and what I think. I also didn’t want to overwhelm you or make
you feel poorly and so I hid even more than I should have.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I didn’t want you to do the flying contest.” Loki said. “You’re recovering from a serious case of
magical exhaustion not to mention your healing wounds from the fight at the arcade. It was an
unnecessary, stupid thing to risk your health on and I wanted nothing more than to pull you into a
hug and tell Thor and Tony to go endanger someone else’s child.”
Loki’s tone pushed a giggle out of Harry right at the end. He’d thought that Loki hadn’t cared one
way or another. Loki looked almost desperate as he continued.

“I know you’ve been on your own and I know you can handle danger.” Loki said. “But that doesn’t
change that I’m your father, that it’s my job to keep you safe and that you’re 16. I want,
desperately, to live in a world where you need me Harry. I know that you don’t but…”

“I do.” Harry said surprising himself and Loki.

“What?”

“I do need you.” Harry said and then thought better of it. When he’d come out to New York it
hadn’t been because he thought he needed Loki. “Or maybe I just really want you? I’m not…”

“I want you in my life too.” Loki finished for him reaching out and placing his hand over Harry’s
and giving it a squeeze. The man’s voice was warm and relieved. “I’m stuck between trying to give
you the independence you deserve and wanting to wrap you up so that you’re warm and safe and
happy. I imagine it’s the same struggle a lot of parents face, our circumstances are just a bit more
extravagant than most.”

“No kidding.” Harry huffed. He picked up another biscuit and ate half of it in one bite. “Is it
normal to be hungry all the time?”

“I’m afraid so.” Loki said, sounding very sympathetic. “You need to eat about triple what you were
before. Asgardian bodies are much denser than a human’s, you’re putting on a lot of weight even if
it doesn’t look like it. Not to mention the amount of magic you have requires a lot of fuel.”

That explained not only why his broom had felt different flying on as well as the constant hunger.

“Did you have dinner?” Loki asked.

“Uhmm…”

“Let me get something then, for both of us. I skipped dinner too I’m afraid.” Loki said. “I’ll be
back in a few minutes.”

Loki was true to his word, he apparated out of the room and came back in less than five minutes
with two large plates of pasta. Harry didn’t ask where he’d gotten the food. He gratefully took his
own plate, the tightness from his stomach having mostly disappeared. They didn’t talk until Harry
had gotten through about half of his plate. Harry broke the silence this time.

“You bullied Snape.” Harry said.

“Yes, I did.” Loki admitted. “I know I sounded proud of that Harry but I’m not. I’m proud of many
things I did as James Potter and those were what I was referencing, not my past with Snape.”

“But why?”

“Why? He was a Slytherin and he studied dark magic for one. The war was terrible by that point
and everyone was distrustful of everyone else. I saw Snape and I thought he was the enemy. A
Death Eater in Training.” Loki said.

“That doesn’t mean you can just…”

“I know.” Loki said his voice somehow both firm and tired. “It was wrong. That took me a long
time to learn and your mother wouldn’t have a thing to do with me until I got it through my thick
head. Even though she wasn’t talking to him anymore she still didn’t like what I was doing to
Snape. I grew up. I promise you I did.”

“Why would mum talk to Snape?” Harry asked.

“They were childhood friends.” Loki answered. “They grew up in the same neighborhood, Snape
was the one who introduced Lily to magic.”

“What?” Harry demanded flabbergasted.

“Oh yes. They knew each other before Hogwarts. Lily told me once they met when they were 9.”

“But he’s so…why would mum want to talk to him?”

“I take it you’re familiar with Snape then?”

“He’s my potions professor.” Harry said. “And I can’t believe he was friends with my mum.”

“He was best friends with her for many years. They stopped speaking to one another after that
memory you saw. Lily couldn’t handle being friends with someone who would call her words like
that anymore. He broke her heart.”

Harry felt something like indignation rise up in his chest. No, it wasn’t just like indignation it was
exactly that. He slammed his cup down on the table.

“You mean to tell me he was best friends with my mum and he became a Death Eater anyway?
What a prick!” And everything he’d done after? Snape was such an asshole! “That’d be like me
becoming a Death Eater even though I’m friends with Hermione! How could he do that?”

“I don’t know.” Loki said, shrugging. “I never took the time to learn why the dark arts interested
him so much, I didn’t care. For me it was very black and white, he was leaning towards being a
Death Eater and so he wasn’t worth my time.”

“Was it because of…”

“I would find it hard to believe that my pranks and bullying was what pushed Snape to it, but if it
was then it changes little. He still chose to become a fascist. He still betrayed Lily. I assume since
he works for Dumbledore that he’s changed alliances if only a little.”

“He’s Dumbledore’s spy for the Order. At least that’s what I was told.”

“Hmm. Well is he at least a good professor?”

Harry snorted at the very idea.

“He hates me because of you.” Harry said. “So, he picks on me in class.”

“I think he might hate you because of Lily too.”

Harry lifted up an eyebrow and Loki leaned forward as if he was going to share a very funny joke.

“Snape and I saw each other as competition for Lily’s affection, we both loved her in our own way.
I know it’s childish but it’s the truth. If Snape hasn’t grown up much he probably still sees it that
way. Which means you signify that he lost Lily. Every time he looks at your eyes he sees Lily and
it reminds him of his failures.”
“Well…I don’t know what I’m supposed to do about that.”

“Nothing I imagine. It’s his issue with you.”

“All this time.” Harry said shaking his head. “You know it’s funny.”

“What’s funny?”

“He likes to call me Prince Potter.”

They both started laughing at the same time at the very idea. Loki told him between laughs that
technically he was a prince which just made Harry laugh harder. Maybe Harry should start wearing
a crown? Did Asgardian princes have crowns? Harry decided to ask. His dad gleefully told him that
they did indeed. He then conjured one for Harry to put on. It looked ridiculous sitting in his messy
hair but that made it all the more perfect.

When they finally calmed down Harry found that he didn’t feel as terrible as he had just an hour
before. He gave his dad a smile and the man reached out and readjusted the crown so it fit better on
his head.

“It looks good.” Loki promised.

“It’s silly.”

“Yes, but you could work with it. Just pretend that it isn’t and walk like a peacock.” Harry made a
face at the very idea which made his dad giggle just a little. “Not your style?”

“No way.” His dad smiled a little and then sighed.

“I am sorry for today Harry, and well pretty much all of our interactions since Amora. I’m not as
practiced as this as I need to be. Please forgive me for upsetting you.”

“I upset you too.” Harry said.

“Yes but I’m a nearly 2000 year old god who should know better by now.”

“Do you often find out that your dead son is alive because he punched you in the face?”

“What? No of course not.”

“Then how are you supposed to have known what to do with me?”

“Well I don’t know I just should have.”

“It’s fine d-” Harry cut himself off. Loki caught the first part of the word and he frowned.

“You don’t have to call me dad if you don’t want.”

“Do you want me too?” Harry asked.

“Starlight, I want you to be comfortable.” Well nothing was going to feel comfortable at first for
him. Harry just had to pick something and make it comfortable. “I don’t want to pressure you
either.”

“What do you want me to call you?” Harry asked. He wasn’t going to call the man dad unless he
said so.
“Whatever you want.” Harry gave the man a look which caused him to spasm a little before
sighing. “Sorry, Harry. I meant to say that what you want and what makes you most comfortable is
very important to me, but if I had to pick I’d want you to call me dad.”

It sounded like that had been hard for the man to say, not that Harry could blame him. Harry was
only good at saying what he really thought when he was angry at someone. Harry swallowed a
little and decided to try it out.

“Okay, dad.” The word felt very odd coming out of his mouth, like a slug was crawling out of his
throat but the smile his dad gave him in response made it worth it. Harry smiled back a little and
then grabbed his still floating cup of tea. He wasn’t thinking of anything but the fact that he was
allowed to call someone dad, a thought that was immediately dashed when the cup burst into a
thousand tiny pieces from his grip.

Harry blushed and immediately began to apologize. Loki shushed him and snapped his fingers. The
warm tea immediately floated off of his hand and the bed below and back into the reassembled
cup.

“Still not used to the strength?”

“No.” Harry said. “Everything feels so…soft now.”

“I am sorry. I didn’t even think about how jarring this transition would be for you, I cursed you
with the worst kind of puberty.” That made Harry snort which Loki, correctly, took as his
forgiveness. “The best way to control strength like ours is to use it. For now, I know a few spells
that’ll protect things against breakage, I also know Stark has been looking for people to test his
new inventions that are supposed to be able to withstand super strength. What I’m trying to say is
that it’s going to be fine. No one here is going to care if you break some things, or even tens of
things.”

“Okay.” Harry said, feeling only slightly better about the fact that he could break bones if he
wasn’t careful. As daintily as he could he picked up his fork and scooped up more food.

“Are there…any other problems you’ve been experiencing with this change?” Loki asked. “I want
to help you with this in whatever way I can.”

“I…My magic’s a bit more reactive.” Harry said. “I’m kind of afraid of doing magic accidentally
like I did at the arcade. I almost took out that whole building! What if I…”

Loki reached out and placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder, it was an odd but still comforting weight.

“Starlight. I promise you that’s not going to happen.”

“How do you know that?”

“I know that because you are your mother’s son. You won’t hurt anyone that doesn’t deserve it.
Your magic isn’t some foreign entity within you, it is you. It won’t do anything that you would
find horrific. I promise.” Harry sniffed a little, wondering why his throat felt tight. Loki squeezed
his shoulder a little. “Besides, once you’re better you and I are going to do so much training
together.”

“Training?”

“Don’t sound like that. Harry, you’re facing a war.” Loki said seriously. “And for that you need the
training of a warrior. You have come so far on your own but I can help you build on what you
already have. Starlight, the prophecy says you have to be the one to defeat Tom Riddle but it
doesn’t say you have to do everything alone. Please let me help you. I can teach you so much about
magic and anything else you want to learn.”

It was so different from Dumbledore. Dumbledore who had hidden things from him, who had kept
the distance between them, had refused to help Harry learn everything. With Dumbledore is was
just test after test. With Dumbledore Harry was constantly being ping ponged back and forth
between life threatening adventures and wallowing with the Dursleys. Every piece of information
Harry had ever gotten he’d had to fight tooth and nail for.

But here Loki was just offering anything Harry wanted like it was simple.

Was it that simple?

Could Harry just ask?

Would Loki just tell him?

It was a novel idea, really. The idea that an adult would just tell him what he wanted to know if he
asked. He didn’t need to break into the forbidden section of the library and flip through screaming
books beneath his invisibility cloak. He didn’t have to sneak around after hours and eavesdrop on
conversations just to find out who was trying to kill him that year. NO more sticking his face in a
penseive because he was just so desperate for a clue. He didn’t even have to go down and trick
Hagrid into revealing more than he intended.

How was he supposed to handle this? Part of him wanted to jump up and shake Loki until all of the
answers to the thousands of mysteries he’d faced fell out of him. Another part of him felt like he
could actually go on a Hermione styled rant, the one’s she only produced when talking to adults
she actually respected. Emotions roiled around him and he tried to force his mouth to work, Loki
stared at him as Harry had an internal meltdown at the offer.

“Are you…?”

“Do you know anything about The Veil?” His voice cut over Loki’s almost too loud in the quiet
room.

Out of all the questions he could have asked, was it any surprise that he asked about Sirius first?
Loki blinked a little before speaking.

“That name isn’t familiar but! I might know it by another name. Can you tell me what it is, maybe
what it does?”

“It killed Sirius.” Harry said. “He fell into it when Bellatrix hit him with a spell and…he didn’t
come out again.”

Loki’s face looked pained for a mere moment before he swallowed it back, when he spoke again
his voice was soft.

“If you want me to be able to tell you anything, I need to know what happened. I know it’ll be hard
but that’s the only way.”

Loki was right. It was hard. Harry told Loki the whole story while drinking copious amounts of the
delicious calming tea. From their first meeting in Harry’s third year to the disastrous ‘rescue’ in the
department of mysteries. For Sirius’ sake he also managed to briefly describe the connection he
had with Tom Riddle through his scar. Loki listened to the whole story without interrupting, his
face a study in compassion and empathy. Although at the description of his curse scar the man
looked tempted to interrogate him. Occasionally as Harry revealed something particularly
horrendous there was a shadow of rage but that was quickly hidden in favor of getting to the end.

By the time he finished Harry felt as if he’d run a mile through one of Thor’s storms. He couldn’t
look at anything, but the tea leaves left over at the bottom of his cup. He thought he saw a bird and
a mountain.

“Starlight.” Loki said his voice serious. “Do you remember how to get to the veil?”

“Course. Why?”

“Because, there’s a chance that Sirius is alive. If I’m right, the veil is a natural tear between two
places, two realms. The only way to know is for me to see this veil myself.”

“I’m coming.” Harry said scrambling out of his bed. He prepared for the man to argue with him.
Harry was still too weak to use his magic. Loki looked torn for a moment before nodding and
getting off the bed as well.

“Okay, but we stick together and you’re wearing some armor.”

Before Harry quite realized what he was doing, he’d already rushed forward and pulled his dad into
a hug. The man stiffened, probably due to Harry’s strength but didn’t hesitate to hug him right
back. It felt much nicer this time around, being hugged by his dad.

“Thank you.” Harry whispered.

“Of course, Starlight. Come on, Let’s go save Sirius.”

 A Trip Down the Rabbit Hole
Chapter Summary

Loki and Harry go back to the Ministry of Magic and try to discover what truly
happened to Sirius Black.

Chapter Notes

Hey ya'll this chapter was so much fun to write! Thank you so much for the great
comments and I'm sorry if I haven't responded. Grad school keeps me busy you know?

There were traditions associated with this, Loki knew. Traditions and coming of age rites that they
were skipping over in their haste. A father in Asgard would gift their son their old armor when they
were leaving for warrior training, an important coming of age moment. Usually there was a feast,
parties, speeches made in honor of the event. But now, here they were standing in a slightly dim
room, with Loki carefully showing his son how to put on the armor. Both of them with shaking
fingers as they thought about Sirius.

Loki wondered if he should tell Harry about those parties and feasts. If it would matter to him that
in that moment they were doing the one thing that would be required for most of Asgard to see him
as an adult, or at least an adult in training. His son wasn’t even 16 yet and most Aesir waited
centuries upon centuries to be given a set of their father’s old armor. He knew that Harry wouldn’t
care about it right at that moment, after all Sirius was far more important to him.

But there was still some level of bitter regret Loki felt as he readjusted the chest plate and showed
Harry the correct way to fasten his vambraces. Harry looked just like Loki had all those centuries
ago when Odin had told him it was time to put magic aside and learn the way of a warrior, except
his son was perhaps paler and a bit more gaunt than Loki had been. Loki had started training early,
one of Odin’s first open attempts to get his 2 nd son to stop practicing magic.

It hadn’t worked.

“What?” Harry asked. “Is it stupid?”

“It’s not stupid.” Loki said. “You look quite handsome, for an Asgardian at least. This is my armor
from when I was a much younger man first learning how to fight. Normally this armor set is passed
down through multiple generations.”

“Normally?”

“Well you see Thor got Odin’s old armor.” Loki said. “And while I could have been given another
one of Odin’s sets as is common, it was decided that a new set would be commissioned for me on
account of my…my size.”

Harry looked at him and Loki could see the teen mentally comparing Loki and Thor and coming to
a few conclusions about what Loki’s growing up experience was like.

“Be grateful it was in your size.” Harry said. “Really. Wearing stuff made for someone three times
as big as you all the time sucks. Even if it meant you weren’t wearing something of Odin’s.
Besides it’s better this way isn’t it? Now I’m wearing something of yours.”

Do not cry. Do not cry. Loki had to be strong, he couldn’t cry. Harry was making it exceedingly
difficult for Loki not to burst into tears with how earnestly he’d asked his last question. He
swallowed back the rising knot of emotion that threatening to escape his throat and smiled.

“Yes, you’re right of course. Now, we need to get you a weapon of some sort.” Loki said. “Just in
case the worst happens. You can’t use your magic for a few days yet. How do you feel about
knives?”

“I…Not great?” He asked.

“That’s fine. Spears? Bow and arrow?”

“I don’t know how to use either of those.” Of course he didn’t. Why would he? That wasn’t taught
to children on earth anymore. He wracked his brain trying to think of something. “I could probably
use a sword.”

“What?”

“A sword. I used one to kill the basilisk.” Harry repeated. “I won’t be good with it but at least I
know which end is the sharp one.”

That made Loki giggle a little, what a strange Asgardian Harry was going to be. He almost couldn’t
wait to bring him to Asgard and introduce the realm to the oddest prince yet.

“Alright. I think I’ve got a sword stored somewhere that’ll fit you.” Loki said. “Keep it stashed in
it’s scabbard unless I say something. Without proper training you could be more harm than
hinderance in a sword fight.”

Part of Harry looked a little mulish at the order, but he nodded anyway and Loki conjured the
sword. He showed Harry how to tie the belt and scabbard to his back so that Harry could easily
reach back and draw the sword. Once that was done, Loki thought that they could leave. His heart
raced as he thought about the trouble Sirius could be in right at that moment.

“Let’s go, there’s no time to waste.”

“Uhh dad?”

“Yes?”

“Maybe we should put on shoes first?”

Loki paused and looked down, sure enough they were both barefoot. Harry grinned at him, they’d
both taken their shoes off when they’d climbed onto the bed to have their talk and Loki had
forgotten. He rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers conjuring shoes and socks on both of them.

“There.” He said. “Anything else?”

“Do you have stuff just in case he’s hurt?” Harry asked. “Or hungry?”

“I do. Now. Hold on closely, I’ll teleport us to London, near one of the entrances of the Ministry.
From there you’ll have to direct me.” Loki said opening his arms wide. He waited patiently as
Harry steeled himself and stepped into his arms for a hug. Knowing why his son was
uncomfortable around touch made things much simpler. He truly owed Ron a debt. He focused his
magic and in moments a plume of green flame had taken them from Stark Tower to an alleyway in
London.

It was well past midnight now, probably closer to three in the morning than any other time. Which
was for the best. No one would notice them. Just to make sure Loki quickly cast a spell that would
keep anyone from even seeing them. Harry took his hand and started walking, unerring in his
direction. He led Loki into a phonebooth and got it taking them down into the depths of the
ministry. When the voice asked for their names Harry gave them.

“Harry Potter and James Potter. To see the Veil of Death.”

Of course, the automated system spit out the two nametags and with two matching grins the Potter
men put them on. When the magical elevator let them out into the atrium of the ministry, Harry
kept walking and Loki followed without hesitation. But then he paused as he looked at the golden
statute that had been in the ministry longer than he could remember. The wizard was missing its
head and appeared to have sustained quite a bit of damage recently.

Loki saw the look on his son’s face and decided it was better not to ask.

He was a little disturbed about how easily and confidently his son moved towards their destination.
The Department of Mysteries was aptly named and no one but the most hardened of Unspeakables
should be able to navigate it. And yet Harry never faltered. Not when they ended up in a room with
12 spinning doors, not when they walked through a room with huge brains in jars. Harry seemed to
notice Loki’s confusion.

“My scar connects me and Tom, I told you he sent me a vision that he was torturing Sirius right?”

“Yes.”

“Well before that he sent me a vision of this place night after night so that I’d no where to go to get
to the prophecies.” Harry explained. “I know this place like the back of my hand it feels like.”

“When we get back and things have calmed down, I’d like to look at your scar. There’s got to be a
way to block this connection. If there’s not then I’m going to teach you Legilimency.”

“Not Occulmency?”

Loki was surprised his son had even heard of that branch of magic. He shook his head.

“No, I wouldn’t start with it anyway. You can’t learn Occulmency until you learn Legilimency for
one. And anyway, Legilimency would be far more useful to you. If Tom is sending you visions
through a mental connection then being able to read those thoughts for their intent will help you
tell if they’re real.”

Harry froze mid-step, he swayed slightly and then turned around to look seriously at Loki. Loki
misread the look of horror on his son’s face.

“I know that mind reading might seem distasteful but unless you’re born naturally doing it then
learning how to do it with a spell won’t mean you’ll be invading people’s privacy. I promise Harry,
you’ll be in complete control of it.”

“What? No. What do you mean that you have to learn Legilimency first?”
“Occulmency is the art of defending a mind from mental attack.” Loki said.

“Yes, I know.”

“How can you defend against a magic you don’t understand?” Loki asked him. “That’s how magic
works. If you want to build a shield against a hex, you have to know how the hex works. If you
tried to learn Occulmency first without ever having used Legilimency, you’d never get anywhere.”

Harry’s eyes were wet in a way that made Loki wonder what he’d done wrong.

“You’re serious?” Harry asked. “You’re not messing with me?”

Loki didn’t have context for the shaky quality of his son’s voice, but he found he didn’t need it. He
bent down a little so that he and his son were at eye level. Carefully he placed his hands on his
son’s armored shoulders.

“Starlight. I promise you, on the love I hold for your mother, that I would never lie to you about
something like this. I might pull a small trick or hide the truth to surprise you with a gift, but I will
never, ever deceive you, not when it matters.”

Harry closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. When he opened them again, he saw that tears
were forming in the corner of Harry’s eyes.

“When the visions started…Dumbledore said I needed to learn to stop them.” He said. “But he…he
didn’t help me.”

“Starlight.” Loki whispered. “What happened?”

“He told Snape to teach me.”

“Snape? He hates you.” Loki said. “And at the very least you don’t like him. That sort of magic is
best learnt from someone you trust.”

“I didn’t have a choice. I just went to his office and…and…” Harry started crying and Loki
carefully rubbed the tears away with his thumbs. Harry got himself under control and after a
moment revealed what had gone on in those lessons. Snape constantly shouting ‘Legilimens’ and
attacking his son while telling him to concentrate and clear his mind. The very idea that anyone
would constantly violate a mind already under attack made something in Loki shake. He had to
forcefully suppress his vitriol, now was not the time.

Carefully he placed his hands on either side of his son’s head cradling the skull as if it were the
most delicate thing he’d ever touched. Harry’s messy hair stuck stubbornly out in between his
fingers.

“Darling.” Loki said. “We don’t have time for it now, not when Sirius needs us but once we get
back to the tower, I need to check your mind. Snape may have done real damage to you in his
idiocy. For now, would it be alright if I put a few spells on you?”

“What for?”

“Think of them like cushions for your mind.” Loki said. “Something soft to cover it and keep any
injuries from being stretched or worsened. It won’t fix anything but it’ll keep it from getting
worse.”

Harry nodded easily and carefully Loki whispered out a few spells in the language of the aesir. His
hands glowed green for a moment before that energy carefully seeped through his son’s skin and
into his mind. Even with the spells he was casting he could tell that the damage was severe in his
son’s mind. Thankfully it seemed that Harry’s innate magic, now free from the bonds Loki had put
on it, was attempting to repair it, even now as weakened as it was. With a little help from Loki
there would hopefully be no permanent damage.

When Loki finished, he carefully removed his hands from his son’s head and let them slide down
to rest on his shoulders once again.

“I thought it was my fault that I couldn’t learn…if I’d just done better then I wouldn’t have been
tricked and Sirius wouldn’t…”

“We don’t know if Sirius is dead.” Loki said sternly. “And, Odin forbid, even if he is then my son,
I promise you that he wouldn’t blame you for it. Sirius was my brother in all but blood and I knew
his heart. I swear to you Starlight that if Sirius has moved onto Valhalla then he watches us with
your mother with nothing but love and hope. It was not your fault. Bellatrix Lestrange was the one
who shot that spell at him and Snape was the one who refused to actually teach you. You might
have been rash my son but the guilt should not rest fully on your shoulders. Do you understand?”

“Yeah.” He said with a sniff. “Yeah I do. Come on, the veil is close.”

Loki straightened out and followed his son once again, his hands ready to conjure knives or a spell
as needed. Loki felt the veil before he saw it. He could feel it pulling on him trying to stabilize. The
magic trapped there was fractured and unbalanced, like a chemical equation that was kept from
reacting for too long, just waiting for a chance to explode. When they turned the corner, Loki heard
the strange whispers, words that might have been English and might not have been any language at
all.

“Fascinating.”

“What?”

“I’ve never seen a tear like this.” Loki said stepping towards the veil, the torn black corner ruffled
in a nonexistent wind. The closer he got the stronger the pull. “Someone moved this.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Tears between realms happen naturally, Starlight. The Yggdrasil’s branches and roots reaching
out and forming natural magic bridges between one place and another.” Loki said. “When I was
much younger I spent years learning how to crawl and climb them, falling and flying between
realms. Once a tear forms it remains in place until the Yggdrasil shifts.”

“What’s the ee- igdr-?”

“Yggdrasil.” Loki corrected simply. “Another name for it is the World Tree, essentially it is the
energy that formed the nine realms, it was here before us and it will endure after. Magic users get
their power directly from the world tree and true seers are connected to its center where the fates
live. Your prophecy came from the Yggdrasil.”

“Oh.” Harry said in a way that made it clear that he didn’t get what Loki was saying.

“Think of the universe as if it is a tree. Each planet is a fruit that grows on it.” Loki said simply.
“The tree sustains the fruit by providing energy and water to grow right?”

“Yeah I guess.”
“That is what the Yggdrasil is to each of us. It provides the energy planets need to exist. There’s
much more too it but I don’t think you want a lecture on deep magical theory yet.”

“Save it for when you meet Hermione.”

Loki chuckled and continued to study the veil.

“Some crazy wizard figured out how to move a tear. They built this…stone arch and everything to
contain it and then they moved it here. It was very stupid of them. Moving a tear could have
resulted in the destruction of earth or a permanent and painful distortion of reality.”

“Really?” Harry squeaked.

“Yes.” Loki said. “After we find Sirius I need to undo this. The longer this thing remains here the
more likely it is to break something that no one alive knows how to fix.”

“What happens when you undo it?”

“Likely the tear will disappear altogether. The reason the veil is like this is because the original
connection has been broken.” Loki said. “Come here and touch the stone, right there.”

Harry did so a little worried. His face immediately twisted in disgust as his fingers touched the
smoother gray stone.

“That’s awful!”

“I know. What you’re feeling is disequilibrium in the Yggdrasil. Think of it like a poisoned branch
in the tree, the longer it remains without being cut the more likely it is to damage the entire thing.”
Loki said. “It should likely take us through safely to wherever Sirius went but just in case we
should go together and hold on, it might be bumpy, we don’t want to get separated.”

“Right.” Harry said stepping closer to Loki. “Will Sirius have gotten through okay?”

“He’s clever and good with his wand, I’m sure he was fine.” Loki said forcing more confidence
into his voice than he necessarily felt.

“What are those voices? You’re hearing them, right?”

“The norns I think. The three sisters of fate that voice the past, the present and the future.” Loki
said. “Starlight if you can help it, never have any direct dealings with them. It never ends well.”

“That’s not going to be a problem.” Harry said. “Do you know where this goes?”

“No clue. It’s been moved and that means it’s impossible to predict.”

“Okay.” His son held out his hand, Loki took it and carefully linked their fingers together so that it
would be more difficult for them to be separated. “Together then?”

“Together.”

They stepped towards the veil, their steps matching one another. There was a brief pause on the
last step, the curtain slipping over their boots, Harry’s hand tightened almost painfully on his and
then he leapt forward.

Immediately they were doused in blackness. The smothering darkness muted every one of their
senses. Loki just held on tightly to the hand that he knew had to still be in his. His magic spread out
of him trying to read the nothingness around him in a way that his body couldn’t. He sensed his
son’s panic and pulled his hand closer to him. He thought he might have felt Harry’s arm circle his
waist in an attempt to hold on.

Loki knew somehow that they were falling.

Faster and faster.

The ground never came.

He couldn’t tell if there was air around them, he tried to breathe. Was it working?

Abruptly he felt himself being flipped, he held on tightly to the body clinging to his chest as they
were tossed violently around. Left, right, right, left, up. Each sickening lurch threatened to tear
them apart. Loki was reminded of his fall from the Bifrost. His magic scrambled frantically trying
to stabilize them.

Still they fell.

And fell.

And fell.

And fell.

And

Thud.

Loki knew the millisecond before it happened what was happened, and he turned so that he was
cradling his son’s body. They were spit out on the other end of the tear and Loki landed on his
back. They slid along something slick for a few seconds before coming to a stop. Loki’s chest was
heaving violently now that he could finally breathe. It didn’t matter that the air tasted stale. He
could finally feel Harry’s frantic grip on him, bruising his ribs. His son was also gasping for air.

Carefully Loki opened his eyes. He hadn’t realized he’d closed them.

He was greeted with an unfamiliar sky. There was no moon, nor was there a sun. In fact, Loki
couldn’t even be sure that there were stars in that sky because all he could see was a thick grey fog.
The fog seemed to carry with it some light that it spread around as best it could, but it left
everything around them looking dull and dark. Loki was laying on some sort of strange slimy
mold, his palms couldn’t get purchase on the stuff for a moment as he tried to push them both up
into the sitting position.

Eventually he sat up, Harry wasn’t moving quite yet which meant that the boy was in his lap.
Thankfully his breathing had slowed, and he was also looking out at the world around them. To his
left he could hear what sounded like a babbling brook but the fog that surrounded them kept it from
view. Occasionally Loki’s eyes would pick up a strange shape in the slowly swirling gray mass,
what could have been a rock or a tree.

Or a monster.
“Where are we?”

“I don’t know.” Loki said. “But I don’t like it. Get up and draw your sword.”

“Really?” His son squeaked.

“We can’t hardly see in front of our faces, anything could be hiding in there. I know you can
handle yourself.” Loki said. His son got up, looking slightly more confident now. Loki got up and
ignored the unpleasant wetness on his clothing. Now wasn’t the time.

“What do I do if something comes?” Harry asked as he carefully reached back and pulled out his
borrowed sword from his scabbard.

“First.” Loki said reaching out and readjusting his son’s grip. “Don’t hold it like a wand, hold it
like that, less likely to go flying like that. Second, yell or something if I don’t notice and then move
so that your back is to mine.”

“Why?”

“One’s back is their most unprotected place since they can’t see anything coming. If we have our
backs to each other, then together we can see from all directions. We’ll be strong together. Plus,
you’re less likely to stab me by accident if you’re not facing me.”

Harry gave him a look at the last point which made Loki grin. His son nodded and then looked at
the fog.

“Can’t we just magic this fog away?”

“Best not risk it yet. The fog covers us too you know, with it we won’t be spotted by anything too
big and with too many teeth as easily.” Loki said. “Let’s just walk together and keep talking, that
way we always know we’re close by, no matter what.”

“What should we talk about?”

“Something that Sirius would hear and be intrigued by, I imagine. How about I tell you about some
of the good things my friends and I did over the years?”

“Yeah, that sounds great.”

Loki smiled and began to walk in the direction of the stream he thought he heard. If he was Sirius
then he would have gone looking for fresh water first and foremost, so this is the direction he
would have gone. Loki sent his magic out looking for any trace of his friend, any left behind spell
work or his magical signature. As his magic searched, he talked. Harry asked about the Marauder’s
Map and that was as good a place to start as any.

He spoke of afternoons spent exploring every nook and cranny of the castle, trying each statue and
portrait for a secret passage. Harry laughed and even at one point told him that they should add the
Chamber of Secrets to the map since apparently, he had missed it all those years ago. Loki told him
they’d do it once they found Sirius and brought him back to the tower to recover.

Harry agreed with him and Loki could taste his hesitation in the air. They were both thinking the
same thing.

Would he have even survived the trip?

The longer they walked towards the stream, the thicker the fog seemed to grow. Harry and Loki
were standing almost side by side as they traveled and the distance between Loki and Harry’s face
was still too long to allow Loki to clearly see his son’s face. The fog muted their voices keeping
them from carrying far. A few more steps and his lungs began to feel heavy, each breath seemed to
take more and more effort.

“Dad?” Loki stopped his story about discovering their third secret passageway and turned around.

There was nothing.

“Harry?” He yelled. “Starlight!”

The fog pushed down into him, clogging his nose and eyes. Loki spun around staying in place and
trying to spot anything. There was nothing to see.

“HARRY!”

Nothing, not even an echo to greet his ears.

Loki summons his magic, casting a spell that would latch onto his son and pull him to his side. The
green fire spread out from his hands and then dissipated in the fog. No. No. No. Loki tried the
spell, again and again.

Nothing.

He made an anguished noise and yelled for his son again, yelled for Sirius, for anyone.

What’s wrong James? An unfamiliar voice asked.

Loki turned on his heel at the sound that might not have been a sound at all. He spun in a full circle
trying to see anything at all but the stifling grey.

“Who’s there?”

Don’t you recognize me? Have you forgotten already?

Loki twisted harshly to the right, he swore he heard that voice coming from that direction. It was
still strange and yet part of him seemed to recognize it.

It’ll come back to you, I know it will. It couldn’t be.

“Lily?” He breathed turning slowly, hoping to see something that matched what his ears were
picking up.

Just stay here a little longer, my love.

“Of course.” Loki said standing still. “Of course. Where are you?”

I’m here, In the fog, you just need to stay still and I’ll come to you.

“Lily, can you see Harry? He’s here with me. Find him first.”

Shhh dear, just stay right where you are. Harry’s not important.

That wasn’t right was it? Of course, Harry was important. Wasn’t he? Lily wouldn’t…unless
perhaps…they had been apart for so long. Harry could wait a few moments. Yes, he could. All
Loki needed to do was stay right where he was. He’d see his beloved wife once again.

The fog began to thicken and Loki knew he was choking on it. It swirled around him, pushing and
clinging on him like a physical force. He felt as if he were trying to stand still in syrup.

Yes my love, just a few moments longer and we’ll be together. Forever.

That was all he wanted, to be with his wife. Yes. He forced himself not to move, ignoring anything
that tried to get him to move, to run. He fought against his own body. He would stay still no matter
what. He knew if he moved, he risked Lily not finding him. His head felt faint and his limbs shook.

SLAM

Loki landed on the ground with a slap and suddenly the fog disappeared. He looked up to see a
glowing silver stag standing on his chest and waving its horns around. The air was suddenly clear
and fresh in his lungs.

He could think!

“HARRY!” He shouted.

“I’m right here!” Harry said appeared right next to him on his knees. “It’s fine dad.”

“What…what happened?” He asked. “I thought I heard…”

“I don’t know, it’s this fog. I saw someone really weird in it.” Harry said. “They kept saying really
weird stuff and when I asked about you, they told me that you wouldn’t be a concern any longer. I
tried to get away but…I had to cast a patronous to get the fog to go away.”

The glowing stag, moved off of Loki but remained, standing guard. The patronous’ presence was
pushing the fog farther and farther away.

“A patronous?” Loki said. “That…that was brilliant Starlight.”

Harry beamed in pride and Loki smiled right back. He stared at the stag for a moment before it
finally clicked in his head.

Prongs.

“Dad are you crying?”

“No.” He lied. “Just got some of the fog in my eyes.”

“Right.” He said. “Can you cast one too? Might help us see farther?”

“I haven’t really managed one since your mother died.” The truth sat bitter on his tongue.

“It’s okay if you can’t.” Harry said. “Mine is fine and I’m not using much magic at all.”

Loki nodded his acceptance, still staring at the beautiful stag his son managed to cast. Carefully he
rubbed his eyes clear. Harry stood up and held out a hand, Loki took it and allowed himself to be
pulled to his feet. Once standing he realized how threatening the fog had been, how it had
threatened to swallow them both up. The stag shook its antlers and pawed at the slightly slimy
ground.

Then it began to walk.

“Where’s it going?” Loki asked.

“I dunno, I cast it trying to find you and it did.” Harry said.

“So its meant to find people in the fog?” Loki asked with a small smile.

The penny dropped and Harry grabbed Loki’s hand and rushed after his patronous. Loki followed
still trying to get over the sensation of being able to truly breathe. The air felt crisp and with each
heave of his lungs his mind felt clearer.

Why the hell hadn’t he gotten rid of the fog right when they arrived?

With the stag leading the way, the path was clear. Loki could clearly see large black and grey trees,
occasional spots of drying brown grass and large hulking boulders. The stag led them through the
woods they’d arrived in, taking them along paths clear of slime and between the trees. It felt like a
very circuitous route, but Loki didn’t complain. He just held tightly onto his son and thanked the
norns he could breathe. He forced himself to forget his wife’s voice and told himself that it wasn’t
real. There was no way Lily had been there.

Guilt settled oddly in his gut.

After fifteen minutes of running, it was clear Harry was growing tired but unwilling to stop.
Thankfully it seemed that the patronous was done. It had led them to the stream, and more
importantly a clearing. The stream wrapped around the right side of the clearing and in the center
of it was a makeshift tent. There was a fire, burning pink of all colors, in front of the tent with a
slowing spinning stick on top of it that a strange animal had been skewered on. Sitting next to the
tent was a silver large dog that Loki would know anywhere.

“Sirius!” Harry yelled out jumping over the stream. “Sirius! It’s me!”

“DAMN BLASTED FOG!” yelled a voice that Loki knew almost better than his own.

Sirius burst out from the tent, his wand drawn and he froze when he saw Harry there.

Loki felt bile rise as he looked at how wrecked his friend looked. Sirius Black had been the most
attractive of their group, something he had taken great pride in. Constantly adjusting his hair and
wearing a leather jacket just to enhance his looks. Now his friend’s scraggly hair and sunken
cheeks made Loki want to scream. He knew this wasn’t his fault.

Dumbledore had been the one to lie.

But all the same he blamed himself. Sirius wouldn’t have spent all those years in Azkaban if Loki
had just kept looking.

Harry didn’t seem to notice how awful Sirius truly looked, or perhaps this was the Sirius Black that
Harry knew. His son rushed towards Sirius, uncaring of the wand pointing his way and pulled
Sirius into a hug.

“I’m so sorry.” He said. “I didn’t know it was a trap! I swear!”

Sirius immediately hugged him back making comforting noises.

“Pup, its fine. It’s okay. I know you didn’t.” Sirius said his voice sounding very hoarse. “But
maybe don’t crush me with your arms?”
Harry immediately let go and pulled back, Loki could just imagine his look of horror.

“Sorry!”

“It’s fine. I had no idea you were so strong, kiddo.”

“Long story.” He said causing Sirius to frown.

“I can’t believe you’re here! What were you thinking coming through the veil like that? How long
have you been down here? You didn’t come out at the same time I did so someone must have
stopped you in the Ministry! What happened in the Ministry? Is Remus okay? What about your
friends?”

“Everyone’s fine.” Harry said, taking Sirius’ hands in his own. “You…you were the only…”

“Oh pup. I’m okay.” Sirius said. “It’s been weird down here, but I’ve got my wand and the fog
stays back as long as I have a patronous up. I see you figured out the same thing. Now how long
have you been down here? For that matter how long have I been here?”

“Over a month. You fell in at the end of April and it’s almost June now.”

“Good to know time passes the same way here.” The man said. “Now honestly, what were you
thinking Pup? For all you knew I died going into that thing! Now we’re both stuck here!”

Sirius looked very frustrated with his son but Harry didn’t seem to care, the boy was just relieved
Sirius was alive. So was Loki. He wasn’t sure what held him back until that moment, just standing
on the edge close enough to be protected by the two patronouses but far enough away not to
intrude. He wanted nothing more than to hug his brother, his partner and crime and beg for
forgiveness.

Loki carefully pushed himself forward, stepping over the stream and closer to the two most
important people in his life.

“I didn’t come alone.” Harry told Sirius. “We’ll get back to earth, I promise.”

Sirius’ sensitive ears picked up Loki’s footsteps and he looked up from Harry right at him. His
face showed shock and fear. He immediately pushed Harry behind him and brought his wand up.

“Stay back!”

“Sirius. It’s fi-”

“No, kiddo. This fog tricks you, makes you see things that aren’t real. Don’t get near it.”

“Padfoot. It’s really dad, he’s been alive the whole time. I found him on earth not here.” Very
quickly, Sirius’ face went from shock and fear, to relief, and then to anger.

Which is how Loki got his nose broken for the second time in just as many weeks.
 Motherhood is Universal
Chapter Summary

Loki tells Sirius the truth without the help of truth bracelets and Harry gets a chance to
test his dad's armor.

Chapter Notes

Hey ya'll! Thank you so much for the hilarious comments last week! Everyone in the
comments section talking about Loki getting punched made me laugh so hard! I hope
you enjoy this update, rife with James and Sirius interactions. Just as a warning if
anyone reading is squeamish there is a fight scene in this, so if that's a concern for you
just be warned! It's not too graphic, this is rated T after all.

Harry had to pull his godfather off of his father. Sirius managed to get three or four punches into
the god’s face before Harry got his wits together and managed to wrap his arms around Sirius and
pull him back. Sirius was shouting abuse at his dad while waving his hands arms wildly.

“Sirius.” Harry grunted before trying louder. “PADFOOT STOP!”

His dad sat up while Sirius froze, there was blood running down Loki’s face and his nose was a
painful red.

“Harry, let me go. That bastard needs to…” The amount of rage Harry heard in the man’s voice
made him glad that Sirius had dropped his wand.

“No. You don’t know the full story. Sirius, come on, remember when we first met? I listened to
you didn’t I? Let us tell you the truth? Please?”

Sirius’ body was rigid in his arms but all at once the tension leaked out of his with a sigh. Harry
loosened his grip and fell back so that Sirius could move comfortably.

“Merlin kid, your grip is insane.” Sirius said rubbing his stomach. “You taking strength potions
now? Those things’ll destroy your testi-”

“I’m afraid the strength is my fault.” Loki said, before waving a hand in front of his face. Green
magic sparked from his fingers and his nose realigned itself, another wave and the blood was gone
too. Sirius made a noise of shock and Loki stood up. “Please, my friend, let me tell you the truth
and beg for your forgiveness.”

Sirius got up and walked over to the fire, while grunting out a command for Loki to start talking.
Harry moved to sit down at the fire too. He felt a little lightheaded. Just the excitement of traveling
here and then casting a patronous had taxed him. The fire, a terribly odd pink color, sent out a
meager amount of warmth which Harry tried to focus on instead of the hunger that had returned to
his stomach and the dizziness that had taken control of his head. He needed to keep the patronous
up.

It was the only way to protect them from the fog and more importantly keep that creepy lady away
from him.

“Starlight.” His dad said. “Do you need food? Water? What am I saying of course you do. One
moment, let’s get you settled, there’s no telling how long we’ll be sitting here.”

Harry watched, just a little consternated, as his dad started conjuring things out of nowhere. He
gave Harry another cup of the delicious Asgardian tea, as well as conjuring one for Sirius who
looked at it with a very sour expression. Of course, his dad had more aesir biscuits and some
heartier food for them. He conjured them onto floating plates that waited by each of them at a good
height so that it was easy to grab at the finger food and eat it.

Loki being the man he apparently was had also conjured things for comfort. He put a thick blanket
around Harry’s shoulders and somehow managed to magic a cushion for him that appeared where
Harry was already sitting. When he moved to do the same for Sirius, the man’s glare kept him off.
Of course, that didn’t stop Loki from casting mage lights, filling the clearing with a warm glow.

Harry looked up at the mage lights and then gasped at what he saw. It was like the very cosmos
had been painted by a meticulous artist in the sky. Vivid purples, blues and greens contrasted
beautifully with the black night, broken only by the stars.

“I have to admit.” Sirius said looking up at the same brilliant sight. “It is one hell of a view.”

Loki was still waltzing around seemingly trying to perfect the entire camp.

“Dad.” Harry said. “Sit down, and let’s start already.”

“Right yes of course.” He fluttered nervously to the other side of the fire, onto his own cushion.
“Harry eat. You’re looking a little too pale.”

“Only if you start talking.” His dad gave him a look but did start talking. Harry true to his word
started munching on the strange rolls of spicy meat and other items of food he couldn’t quite
identify. The plate next to his arm must have had a never-ending spell on it since every time he
picked up a piece of food another one appeared to take its place. It was probably for the best
because he felt starving. Which wasn’t a hyperbole, Harry knew what starving felt like.

Thanks Uncle Vernon.

Harry listened as quietly as he could as Loki told his story. The only interruption came from the
crackling fire and Sirius’ various reactions. Which were…very empathetic at times. It was strange
hearing the story from Loki’s perspective. Harry only knew what had been in his mum’s journal.
There hadn’t yet been time for Harry to get the story from his dad as to why he’d come to earth in
the first place.

It was a story of loneliness and curiosity. It was one Harry found he could empathize with. So too
could Sirius. At first Sirius had been derisive with the noises that escaped his throat and the sneer
that had settled on his face, but the longer Loki spoke the more Sirius seemed to sympathize. When
Loki revealed his decision to become James Potter, to attempt to be a part of the magical world
Sirius spoke.

“We really were just a group of losers, weren’t we?” He asked. “An insecure werewolf, a runaway
pureblood, a socially anxious nerd and you, supposedly the normal one.”
His dad laughed just a little before shaking his head.

“I was exactly what I appeared to be when we were children Sirius. Before I became James Potter, I
locked away a lot of my magic as well as my memories. Everything that we did together,
everything that we were to each other. All of that was true. The truest thing I’ve ever been a part
of.”

“So what, you were James until you got offed?”

“I remembered the truth when I turned 18.” Loki said, he lifted up a finger to quiet Sirius’
strangled noise of offense. “I didn’t tell you because I was…happy.”

“Happy?” Sirius screeched into the night. “We were at war! We needed all the fire power we could
get! How could you…”

“I know. I know.” Loki said. “Not a day goes by that I don’t regret not giving up my humanity
sooner. So many things would be different now, better, if I hadn’t been so selfish. I am sorry
Sirius, but I was afraid. Afraid to lose you.”

“Lose me? You couldn’t think that we’d deny you? Shit man, you’re the god of mischief that’s
brilliant.”

“It wasn’t you or any of the others. I was afraid of Asgard taking me away.”

They listened as Loki explained the laws against gods traveling to earth and how Loki would have
been taken away by force from the home he’d made if his family found out where he was hiding
himself. Loki had taken great pains not to be discovered one earth and he feared that even his name
being spoken out loud too many times would have ended in his capture. Loki had thought the
return of his memories would have been enough to win the war against Voldemort, that he
wouldn’t need the body or power of a god.

He’d been wrong and they’d all paid the price.

Loki spoke of the attack on his home, how he’d tried to get back before Harry’s mum died but
being too late.

“By the time I arrived back on earth…everything was gone our house was destroyed and I s…saw
Lily and the crib was empty.”

“I’d gotten Harry out of there.” Sirius said. “The warning system on the house got me there too late
to help…I was right outside when the house exploded from the ricocheted killing curse.”

Together the two men put together the true timeline of those chaotic days. Sirius told Loki what
had happened to various Order members. Friends his dad had had, people he had worked with as an
auror too. Harry hadn’t even realized his dad had known so many people. He was as still as a
mouse learning more about the war against Voldemort in that conversation than he had in the past
five years. Sirius and Loki both dropped names and locations of importance that Harry normally
would have had to fight tooth and nail to be told as if they were nothing. And it wasn’t because
they’d forgotten he was there. Both of the men checked with him to make sure he was eating
enough and to ask if he was following along.

It was nice. Really nice.

Harry focused on remaining calm as Loki told Sirius about the meeting with Dumbledore. As it
turned out Harry didn’t need to even bother hiding his outrage about that. Sirius upon being told
that Dumbledore had lied, had known this whole time, had exploded. The man jumped up and
started ranting, using more swear words than Harry even knew existed. At the same time, the
magic fire that Sirius had created had doubled in size and become a raging inferno. Harry had been
thankfully far enough from the fire to avoid getting burnt.

Sirius uttered oaths, vulgar oaths for revenge. He swore on the slimy ground, the looming trees, the
sky of this cursed realm and even the fog that he would make Dumbledore pay. Harry listened with
wide eyes as he was given a crash course in how to swear like a wizard, a sailor, and a parolee all
at once. It took close to ten minutes to get Sirius to calm down, it only happened eventually
because Loki had promised Sirius that they’d have their revenge together.

“Good.”

From there the rest of the story was easier to piece together. Finally, it was Harry’s turn to speak,
telling the two men how he discovered the truth of who his dad was and how Harry had decided to
get revenge. He described the plan he and his friends had come up with. Namely punching a god in
the face.

That made Sirius laugh so hard he nearly passed out.

“You…you punched him too?” Harry nodded making the man burst into more peals of laughter.

“Yes, yes it’s very funny. Calm down before you piss yourself.”

“I can’t help it!” Sirius squealed. “He…He…He snuck out from under the nose of the entire Order
just to punch you in the face! An Entire squadron of wizards all dedicated to keeping him alive and
he just…popped over to America!”

Harry couldn’t keep the grin off his face which made his dad scowl while Sirius laughed even
harder. Before Loki got upset enough to prank Sirius to get him to shut up, which probably would
have resulted in a prank war they shouldn’t be having in this strange place Harry interrupted.

“Sirius, what happened to you? After the battle?”

“Honestly? Not as much as what’s happened to you, kiddo.” Sirius said. “This place is pretty
desolate all things considered.”

“Tell us anyway.” Loki asked. “And Pads? Please eat something. There’s more than enough to go
around. I’m used to carrying enough to feed five gods.”

Loki wasn’t kidding. Harry had eaten at least six platefuls of food and there was still more to go.
His stomach now felt comfortably full and since Sirius’ pink flame had calmed back down to a
good size, Harry felt his body beginning to relax. Sirius took a bite of some of the food and
complimented the taste. Both of them listened as Loki named each food and explained that he’d
long grown used to magically storing literal pounds of food because Thor had a habit of dragging
Loki on a quest without warning or time to plan.

Once Sirius had eaten a little of the food, he cleared his throat and told his story.

“Bellatrix hit me with a spell that locked my limbs up. It was probably the only thing that saved me
while falling through the veil. I was totally frozen which meant that I couldn’t freak out and end up
slipping out of the magical path and get myself scrambled in the universe’s guts.” Sirius explained.
“Instead I just fell for what felt like an eternity and hit my head a few times.”

Sirius continued describing his rough landing that ended with him getting knocked unconscious.
When he’d woken up the first thing he noticed, aside from his raging headache, was a zombie
trying to eat his face.

Literally.

An inferi like creature the color of the fog that surrounded them had been stooped over Sirius’
body. The creature had long limbs, arms twice the length of its torso and legs just as long. It had
black teeth that dripped a foul smelling liquid. The naked creature hadn’t had any protection from
Sirius’ punch to the gut and later the spell that decapitated it. Apparently, the blood was an off
white milky color.

The killing of the first creature and summoned more of them, some who came to feast on the
corpse of their fellow but more that were far more interested in Sirius as live prey. Sirius had done
what came most naturally to him at that point and turned into Padfoot. On all fours he was able to
outrun the creatures for a while. They weren’t like dementors, they could still sense and hunt him
just as well as a dog but Sirius was very quick at least.

Sirius had run for as long as he was able to dashing about here and there in between trees and
bushes trying to lose his captors. Eventually he found a small hole in the wall of a canyon, just
wide enough to wiggle his dog body through and long enough that he was able to crawl deep
enough that the creatures couldn’t reach in and drag him out. Sirius had cowered in the darkness as
the creatures scrabbled and tried to rip out the stones that protected him. Eventually they gave up
trying to force their way out and they tried something else.

Tricking him.

Sirius described the horror of first hearing James’ voice and then Lily’s. Both of them begging him
to come out. When he didn’t, he heard their screams of pain as the creatures ate them. That had
made Sirius begin to scramble out of the hole. Thankfully he saw the boney legs of one of the
creatures and the illusion was broken. James and Lily were dead, not here. Sirius knew that.

“How did you get out of there?” Harry asked, fear trickling down his spine.

“I tried dozens of things once I got the courage to shift back into a human.” Sirius said. “All of the
spells I tried to banish them didn’t work and when I killed one, more just took its place. After hours
I figured I could try casting a patronous to call for help. I had no idea where I was but maybe
someone could find me. Thankfully the patronous’ aura was enough to drive those fuckers off deep
into the fog.”

“So, they’re still here?” Harry asked.

“As far as I can tell they live in this fog. Maybe they create it.” Sirius said shrugging. “They tried a
few more times to get me before I figured out that I needed to keep the patronous up at all times.
Figuring out how to keep the spell on when I slept wasn’t easy but I managed.”

“And after that?”

“Mostly I’ve been focused on finding food, shelter, water and a way out of here.” Sirius said. “This
place has little creatures that taste like shit but are easy enough to hunt. They’re attracted to the
clear air here so they’ll just crawl in from the fog to explore. I settled here since it was close to
where I’d arrived and had a clean water source. I knew I’d fallen into the veil of death which meant
everyone probably thought I was dead. There weren’t going to be any search parties.”

“We came for you.” Harry said.

“I know you did, pup. Which brings us to the most important question of all. Where the fuck are
we?”

“I’m not sure.” Loki said, frowning at the world around them. “I have never been to this planet. If
we’re even on a planet and not some strange…dimension.”

“Can you get us home?”

“Of course, I can. It’ll take some time to open a pathway between here and earth, but I can do it.”

“Now there’s a look I’d never thought I’d see again.” Sirius said. “You’ve offended his poor
sensibilities pup. He’s going to be all hurt if you don’t apologize for doubting his magical skill.”

“Sensibilities?” Loki asked. “Are we really going to go there, Mister I can’t leave the dorm until
my hair shines like sunlight?”

Immediately the two grown men began to bicker and joke with one another. It reminded Harry of
how the Weasleys would joke around with one another, jokes full of love and affection. Sirius
looked like a totally different man, full of joy and free of a burden he’d been carrying for far too
long. It reminded Harry of how happy Sirius had been around Christmas last year how the man had
sung carols and decorated.

Harry lifted a hand to cover his mouth as a yawn broke out. He was getting tired, from the full meal
and the warmth of the fire. But no matter how tired he was, he refused to sleep here if he could
help it. Out of the corner his eye he spotted pale skin and smirking lips. His head whipped around
but the woman disappeared into the fog. Sirius and Loki didn’t notice as Harry stared into the fog.

He knew she was still there. Not a creature like the one’s Sirius had described but something far
more insidious. She’d been the one to confront him in the fog, to taunt him about his dad, to
whisper cryptic words about the prophecy.

Do you mean to tell me you haven’t figured it out?

It’s obvious isn’t it? What the prophecy means?

Oh, you’re so simple, I never thought someone so slow would be the next one chosen.

It’s adorable.

If I tell you, you’ll owe me little godling.

You belong here, can’t you tell? Don’t ignore what your senses are telling you.

Your father?

Oh, he won’t be able to hold you back for much longer, I’ll make sure of it.

“Are you alright Starlight?”

“I’m fine.” Harry said. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“Remus.” Harry said, making something up. “Do you think we could find him before going back
to the tower?”
“That’s a great idea pup. Let’s get all of your dad’s punches to the face over with.” Sirius said with
a giggle.

“Very funny, Padfoot.”

“I always am. Come on, Prongs. How are we getting out of here?”

“I just need to open a path along the Yggdrasil. It’ll take me a few moments. Pack up whatever you
wish to keep and Starlight, don’t forget your sword.”

It didn’t take long to clean up the things Loki had conjured and pack away what they wanted to
keep. Sirius wanted very little from the realm at all. Harry in a fit of fancy broke off a small branch
from one of the trees, it was thin and about a foot in length. The wood swished around when he
swung it. He stuffed it next to where his wand had been stored for safe keeping. He saw the
woman standing in the distance.

She was wearing black leather with green accents, her long black hair shifting in the fog. He knew
she knew something about the prophecy. She probably knew some strange magic that could
destroy Voldemort once and for all. Harry decided he didn’t care. He’d figure it out on his own. He
lifted up an eyebrow at her and gave her a cheeky wave goodbye while Sirius and his dad had their
backs turned. Her lips curled into something too cruel to be called a smile and then she snapped her
fingers. Harry heard a screech and knew without a doubt that she wasn’t going to let Harry leave.

Harry drew his sword.

“Dad. Hurry it up, they’re coming.”

“What?” The man asked.

Sure enough, a chorus of unholy shrieks rent the night sky and from the fog burst the horrific
creatures Sirius had described. Their bodies were white with sickly blue undertones, nothing more
than papery skin wrapped tight around bones. Their emaciated bodies combined with their long
limbs and sharp fingers screamed hunger and desperation.

“Cover me!” His dad said. “I need two minutes to get the portal stable.”

“Two?” Sirius asked drawing his wand. “Actually, challenge us next time Prongs! We’ll give you
ten!”

Sirius gave Harry a grin that lit a fire in his blood and the grip on his sword became sure. He and
Sirius stood back to back and once the creatures neared, they jumped forward. In truth Harry
planned to rely on the fact that his sword was sharp and that he was super strong. Both,
unsurprisingly worked to his favor. So did the armor his dad insisted on him wearing. The first
creature tried to swipe at him and the pitch black nails just scraped angrily across his chest plate.

Harry grit his teeth and swung down, the attacking arm was chopped off at the elbow. Harry got
splattered with milky blood, the spray covering his face and neck. Some of it even landed in his
mouth. He didn’t have time to gag because the creature roared and jumped at him, obviously trying
to tackle him to the ground. Harry ducked low and lifted the sword up, the creature impaled itself
onto the blade. The squelching sound was something Harry didn’t think he’d ever forget.

Another creature tackled him from the side, hitting the body of the dead creature still stuck on his
sword. They tumbled over each other, getting tangled in each other’s limbs. The dead creature kept
spilling blood over both of them and the stench made Harry’s eyes water. He tried to tug his sword
free, but the angle made it impossible. The creature shrieked and swiped at his face.
“HARRY! DO NOT HOLD BACK!”

His dad’s voice reached him and without thinking Harry let go of his sword, reached back and
punched the creature right in the face. There was a sickening crack and then a slopping noise as the
creature’s head fell back, almost completely detached from its neck. THe only thing connected it
was a bit of skin and muscle.

Just like Nearly Headless Nick.

Harry pushed the dead creature off of him and jumped up, finally able to free his sword. His hands
were wet with white blood but his grip was firm. He flipped around just in time to swing at another
one of the creatures. His sword moved true and cut right through the torso of the third creature,
both halves plopping to the ground. Harry took in a deep breath and coughed at the taste of blood.

Sirius was dispatching each creature that came close to him with a mixture of cutting and blasting
hexes and seemed to be having the time of his life. His dad was muttering rapidly under his breath,
his hands glowing bright with magic. Loki’s brow was dotted with sweat. A creature slipped
between the trees and made its way towards the sorcerer. Harry leapt forward with more strength in
his legs than he’d been expecting and nearly tripped on the landing.

He managed to find his balance a moment too late, the creature slashing at him and sending him
stumbling to the ground. Harry swung the sword and cut off the legs of the creature, right at the
knees. It shrieked again and lost its balance. It tried to attack him again, but Harry clumsily rolled
away. The creature landed next to him with an awful thud and grabbed at him, it latched onto his
arm and dragged him along the slippery ground towards it’s gaping maw.

Harry smashed his free hand down on the arm, the bone breaking with an audible snap. The
creature loosened its grip enough for Harry to wrench himself free and swing the sword at its neck.
Another spray of blood got into his hair as Harry pulled the sword out and scrambled away. Harry
jumped up and shook his head trying to get his blood drenched hair out of his eyes.

“How much longer?” Sirius shouted.

“Just another minute!”

It had only been a minute? Harry must have made a noise of disbelief because as he moved past his
dad to attack the next creature, he saw the man smirk. Harry managed to take that creature out with
a single swing at the hips. The vibrations caused by the blade passing through flesh and bone
traveled up through his arm and made his stomach lurch. Three creatures ganged up on him at
once. Harry ducked their swipes and punched out with his left hand. He felt his hand connected
with a chest and heard a terrible crunching noise.

The second creature hopped onto his back and its hands wrapped around Harry’s neck like vines.
Harry dropped his sword and choked on the lack of air. He fell to his knees and tried to wiggle the
creature off. The creature squeezed harder and Harry elbowed it right in the chest. He felt the rib
cage break inwards and the creature let go. Harry fell forward and gasped for air while scrabbling
for his sword. He managed to get it up in time to stab one of the creatures in the chest. He swung
the impaled creature into the other two sending all three tumbling to the ground. Harry jerked his
sword free and then slung it down again decapitating the last two creatures.

“James you better hurry the fu-”

“I’ve got it!” His dad shouted triumphantly. “Come on now! The portal will close quickly!”
Harry spotted two more creatures lunging for him but turned tail and ran towards his dad instead.
Sirius had the same idea, except he kept taking potshots at the creatures. Sirius got to the portal
first and Loki pushed the man in. Harry was nearly there when one of the creatures jumped and
grabbed him by the foot. His dad shot fire over Harry’s head and killing the creature. Harry shook
his foot free, jumped up and started sprinting.

The portal was beginning to shrink.

“Go!” Harry shouted. “I’m right behind you!”

It wasn’t even a lie. Harry was mere seconds from the portal. His dad hesitated for a moment more
before stepping inside. Harry jumped inside half a moment later. Harry felt huge boney hands seize
hold of his hair. He pulled the creature in with him as he fell into blackness. It was the same awful
suffocating blackness that had taken him there and yet Harry preferred it to the foggy world he’d
run from. Harry tried to pull himself free from the dangerous grip, but the creature was relentless,
its other hand struck his side, in between the two pieces of metal that covered his chest and back.
He felt the sharp claws dig into his side.

The creature tried to yank open his armor and Harry managed to swing his sword and chop off the
hand holding his hair hostage. He shot forward abruptly and found himself flying face first out of
the portal. He brought his hands up to break his fall and managed to roll onto a thick fluffy rug.
Right behind him came out his unwanted passenger. Harry sat up and lifted the sword, the
creature’s head imbedded itself on the blade a moment later.

Harry could see brain matter.

He dropped the sword and fell on his back with a thud right as the portal closed. He looked over to
the left to see that Sirius and Loki were also laying on the floor, although they were covered in a lot
less white blood. Loki looked like he’d run a marathon, probably because he’d opened up a
magical portal that traversed planets and Sirius’ cheeks were red from the exertion of the fight.

They were safe.

Safe!

A giggle escaped his throat, and then another, and another.

“Harry?” His dad asked. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine!” He promised in between laughs. “It’s just…Let’s never do that again.”

A pause and then Sirius was giggling, after a moment Loki joined as well. Harry laughed until his
gut threatened violence against him. He wondered why he was laughing. What was funny about
this? Eventually he calmed himself down, thankfully right around the time that a door opened.
Harry looked to see a very beautiful woman. She had long smooth golden hair, some of which was
styled around her head like a crown. She was wearing a flowing blue dress and what looked like a
stylized chest plate over the top.

She looked very regal, especially with the sword she had drawn as she pointed at them. Loki sat up
and Harry recognized the look in his eyes. It was the exact same look that Fred, Ron, and George
had had after they’d gotten caught rescuing Harry with the flying car by their mum. A strange
mixture of fear, guilt and shock at having been found out. Harry looked around the ornate room
they were in. It was filled with golden decorations, light by mage lights, and unlike anything Harry
had ever seen.
“What is going on here?” She demanded sounding so much like Molly Weasley that Harry
couldn’t help but gape a little. Connections snapped together in his brain.

“You’re my grandmother!”

He slapped a hand over his own mouth. Oops.

Queen Frigga looked at him and then back at Loki, her eyes wide with something fearsome. Her
grip tightened on her sword as she sent a glare at Loki getting ready to demand an explanation.

“Oooh. Busted.” Sirius sang.

Not helping Padfoot.

 A One-Eyed Bag of Dicks
Chapter Summary

Frigga is a very affectionate woman and Harry is a very confused boy.

Chapter Notes

Hey everyone! So sorry this is a day late. I've been so busy getting ready for my two
weeks of field research. I'm leaving for two weeks to hike through mountains to study
basalt flows. I've had to do a lot of work to get ready. Also! Since I'm going to be
hiking all the time I won't have internet access that means no update next week and
the update after will probably be a day or two late!
Thanks for the amazing comments last week, they made me laugh so hard!

“I believe.” Frigga said, her voice deceptively calm. “That you owe me an explanation, my son.”

Harry saw his dad swallow, his throat bobbing up and down. He looked at Sirius and they both
seemed to realize the same thing. His dad was blanking. In the face of that much motherly rage he
was choking. Harry looked at Sirius, urging him to do something. Sirius lightly kicked Loki which
did nothing. He then looked back at Harry and shrugged as if to say that was all he could do. Harry
sent a sterner look at his godfather who sent him a look that clearly said ‘you do it, she’ll kill me’.

“Loki.” Frigga said. “There is a dead monster in my sitting room.”

Oh no. She was stating the obvious in a way too calm tone. That was really bad, even Harry knew
that. Loki’s body flinched a little and Harry knew he had to do something. He scrambled up to his
feet so that he was standing between his dad and his grandmother.

“Uhm…” He said. “Hello, I’m Harry, Harry Potter. Un…Uncle Thor told me a little bit about you,
you’re… you’re Queen Frigga right?”

Her rage abated as she looked at him, her face abruptly turned from frightening Queen with
unimaginable power to a soft unbearably fond woman that Harry didn’t think had ever actually
seen, especially directed at him. Let alone when he was covered in monster blood.

“I am.” She said, her voice filled with affection and warmth. “But you should call me grandmother,
I think. Tell me, Harry from what realm are you from?”

“I…uh…Earth? Or it’s Midgard! Yes, you call it Midgard.” Harry said nodding to himself, he
decided that the truth was probably important to share here too. He wrung his hands together as he
spoke. “I’m…I’m a demigod.”

Frigga’s face twitched as she looked over at his dad who had also gotten up and was hiding behind
Harry like a frightened boy. Harry saw a snap of fiery rage in her eyes before it was forcibly
doused. She looked back at Harry.
“You are so young.” She cooed, stepping forward and lifted her free hand to gently touch the left
side of his head. She was inspecting him, almost like someone would a horse they were thinking of
buying. “Oh, you’re terribly handsome beneath all this blood, I’m sure. You must steal the heart of
every maiden you meet with eyes like those.”

“No, uhm not really. I don’t…I’m not very good with…”

“And so humble as well.” She smiled at him before a worried frown came over her face as she
looked down at his armor. “Oh one of those creatures got a bit too close didn’t they? Let’s see here
what the wound looks like.”

Frigga waved her hand and Harry found all of the blood on him vanished with a blue flame. She
clicked her tongue and pushed Harry into a soft chair all the while muttering about how much of a
crime it was that such a beautiful face had been marred by wounds. She ordered Loki in a very cold
voice to call for some healers and guards to come look at Harry and take the corpse out of her
sitting room.

Loki literally jumped to do something while Sirius got up to look over at Harry just as worried.

“That thing tried to tear your armor off. Did it get through?” He asked.

“Uhm. Maybe?”

“Help me take the chest plate off.” Frigga said to Sirius who nodded and started working on the
buckles on one side. “What is your name?”

“Sirius Black ma’am. I’m James’, or rather Loki’s, best friend.” Harry blinked stupidly at Sirius, he
hadn’t even known that the man could be polite. Sirius gave him a look telling him to play along.

“You’ve known my son long?” Frigga asked.

“Oh yes, for over 20 years now.” He said smiling. “There’s no one I trust more than Loki.”

“20 years?” She asked. “Oh I see, his trip to Alfheim, I suppose he spent very little time there.”

Loki made a pained noise that was only half suppressed while Frigga carefully removed the armor
from Harry’s body. Frigga looked at the small puncture wounds on Harry’s side with worry. A
moment later the door opened and a bunch of people swarmed into the room. Frigga immediately
straightened and began to command them with a calm voice that cut through the noise like an
arrow.

She ordered healers to her side and told them to look at Harry and treat him. She ordered the guards
to remove the corpse and the servants to clean up the blood. People scurried around and did exactly
as they were told. Harry’s wounds were cleaned and healed up as if they’d never been and the
room was cleaned up, the only thing left behind was the sword his dad had given him which had
been handed to Loki, shiny as if Harry hadn’t even used it.

“There.” Frigga said. “Now you and Sirius just sit right there while I speak to my son.”

Harry exchanged another look with Sirius as Frigga turned her back to them and started
interrogating Loki. Thankfully his dad seemed to have gathered his wits because he was actually
answering her questions, even if he did look like his stomach had dropped down to his feet. Frigga
was very, very angry with Loki. Harry had known on some level that his existence was taboo to
Asgardians. Demi-gods had a bit of a reputation after all. But since Thor had been so nice to him he
had just sort of forgotten about it.
On top of all of that there was the fact that Loki had kept so many secrets about his time on earth
from his family, for decades. That wasn’t something easily forgiven, unless you were Thor
apparently, who took most everything Loki did in stride. Even Sirius had been more upset with
Harry’s dad than Thor had seemed to be. Frigga wasn’t Thor though. Frigga was a mother, and
mothers had the special ability to keep you in place with nothing but a stern look.

Frigga after learning the basics of what she wanted to know, who Harry was, who Loki had had a
child with and when, and where they’d just come from and why, she began to lecture his dad.
Harry looked over at Sirius and leaned to the side.

“What do we do?”

“Hope she runs out of energy before remembering we’re here.”

“Dad’s in trouble.”

“Trust me, pup. He’s used to that.” Harry gave Sirius an unimpressed look and Sirius sighed.
“Okay fine, here’s what you need to do. Turn on the water works.”

“What?”

“Cry. Weep. Sob. Wail. Whimper. Howl. Snivel. Bawl. Where have I lost you kid?”

“In what world would that help?”

“In Asgard.” He joked. “I’m serious. Just pretend to be upset about the fact that Frigga is
threatening to punish your dad for creating you. If you cry she probably won’t have the heart to go
through with it.”

And suddenly Harry realized that he was upset. Here he was, sitting in a chair on a planet he’d
never once been interested in seeing, exhausted beyond all belief with the taste of monster blood
still on his tongue. He hadn’t slept in probably close to 20 hours and his body was sore and his
magic weak. He was being ignored and sidelined by Frigga in favor of lecturing his dad. And for
what? For finding a home and people who loved him when Asgard had made him feel so isolated?

Every protective instinct in Harry’s body reared up as he listened to Frigga’s lecture and looked at
his father’s pained face. He knew that Frigga had a right to be upset. Anyone would be if they
found out that their child had lied to them about having a wife and son, having a whole secret life.

“I cannot believe that you would be so irresponsible as to…”

“To what?” Harry interrupted. “To find someone who loved him?”

Frigga froze and turned around to look at him. Harry was standing up looking hurt and upset and
defensive. Her face immediately went from ferocious to sad, Harry swallowed.

“He was curious when he came to earth but he stayed because he found people who loved him for
who he was.” Harry said. “He met my mum and they loved each other so much and you’re upset
by that?”

“No, of course I’m not upset that he found love. That is what I want for both my children.” She
said. “But…”

“But what?” Harry asked. “He was happy and you’re upset with him for trying to stay that way?
Or…is it that you’re upset that I’m half human?”
Frigga immediately looked regretful and stepped forward cupping his cheeks with her soft hands.

“Oh darling I could never regret a grandchild, no matter their origins. I’m sorry, I got carried away.
I was so shocked but that doesn’t make it better. I shouldn’t have lost my temper.”

That…that had worked? Harry almost couldn’t believe it. He’d acted almost like Dudley sans the
stomping feet and Frigga had just done what he wanted. Frigga looked at him for a long moment,
her eyes fond.

Sirius was a genius.

“Loki.” Frigga said, still looking at Harry. “I cannot keep this from Odin.”

“Mother.” Loki said. “Please. Harry isn’t a threat to anyone, I won’t see him brought before Odin
as if he were a criminal.”

“Do not worry about that.” Frigga said smiling. “This is my grandson. I do not believe I will allow
anyone to say a word against him. Let’s get all of you cleaned up and looking proper, it won’t do to
visit the King of Asgard covered in blood.”

Which is how Harry found himself taking a bath in Frigga’s giant golden bathtub. He had refused
help with the bathing but his dad had explained what each of the various bottles he’d been given
did. Harry had to wash his entire body from head to toe. Frigga’s spell had removed the most
visible blood but the stuff had gotten into nearly every nook and cranny of his body. That wasn’t
even to mention how awful his hair was.

Somewhere nearby Sirius was also bathing. Frigga had immediately called for seamstresses and
had started designing the proper clothing for Harry to wear. She looked delighted every time she
spoke about Harry, like he was her new dress up doll but worse somehow. Harry got a sinking
suspicion that by taking Frigga’s censure away from Loki he’d taken the brunt of it for himself.

That fear was proven when he got of the bathtub and was accosted by the Queen of Asgard. She
clicked her tongue and muttered about how skinny he was. Which…to be fair he might have been a
bit on the thin side but it wasn’t like he was starving. She kept telling him that he was a growing
boy and that Loki must have been starving him, which was the exact opposite of the truth. Loki
was the first adult who actively made him eat more than he thought he needed. Molly Weasley
had tried but Harry, guilty about the burden he would be to an already struggling family, had
resisted her attempts.

Frigga’s forced Harry into three dozen different Asgardian outfits, and had him model each of
them, until she decided on the very first one he’d put on as the appropriate one. Harry could hear
Sirius snickering about that as Loki helped him get into something nice with far less pain. Frigga
then tried to tame his hair despite Harry promising her it was impossible to get under control.

She kept patting and rubbing it down and when she turned her back it sprung up again.

The woman was free with her affection in a way Harry had never experienced before. Kisses on his
forehead, cheeks, and hair were par for the course. Added onto that were the hugs, the cooing, the
soft arm clasps, and her propensity for cupping his face and telling him he was adorable. Harry
found the whole thing to be very disorienting. Touch was not something he was accustomed to and
even though he knew to expect Frigga’s affectionate touches they still made him feel like he’d been
hit by a confundus spell.

It was obvious she liked him Harry just didn’t understand why.
As Frigga dressed him up, she asked about his interests and his life on earth. He skipped over
anything to do with Voldemort and told her about his friends and his magic studies. She praised
him for his skills and talents and complimented his choice of friends. She called him brave and
kind for defending her father and going out to save Sirius in that dangerous realm. It was weird,
almost as if he could do no wrong in her eyes. He realized abruptly that maybe that was because he
couldn’t.

What did a boy like him do with knowledge like that?

When, after what felt like an exhausting eternity, Frigga declared him fit to be seen they all left to
go to the throne room together. Harry finally managed to reunite with his dad who looked at him
with gratitude and amusement. Frigga walked ahead of them, leaving them with a bit of privacy to
talk.

“She’s a force of nature.” He said as an apology before Harry could say a word.

“Did you have to freeze like that?” He hissed. “I’m not a dress up doll.”

“I will make it up to you.” Loki swore. “Thank you for saving me.”

“That’s what family is for.”

“The pup’s right.” Sirius said. “Now buck up James, your dear old dad isn’t going to scare either of
us off.”

“You don’t know Odin.”

“Do you or do you not remember my mother?” Sirius asked causing Harry to giggle a little as he
remembered that awful portrait in Grimmauld Place. “Trust me, we can handle it.”

“I hope you’re right.” He said.

“Is there anything we should know?” Harry asked. “That you haven’t told us?”

“Odin isn’t the hugest fan of mortals.” His dad said. “He protects Midgard because that is his job
as the All-Father, to offer protection for all the nine realms but there is no love for earth.”

“Job? I thought he was just king of Asgard.” Sirius said.

“He is, and while he isn’t technically king of any other realm, they all do answer to him in one way
or another. It’s all very complicated but to quickly summarize, as King of Asgard due to various
treaties and alliances it is his job to use Asgard’s might to protect the nine realms.”

“Even the one we just left?”

“Yes, even that one.” Harry shivered at the very idea and then a thought occurred to him.

Well earth wasn’t very protected right now was it. Voldemort threatened to destroy the entire
world! Loki seemed to read the thoughts off of Harry’s face.

“Odin doesn’t know about the magical world but, honestly, even if he did I doubt he’d involve
himself. He’s of the opinion that the mortals should solve their own problems. He only stepped in
when the Jontuns invaded because he had a grudge against their king.”

“What a tosser.” Sirius said a sentiment that Harry had a hard time not agreeing with. If Frigga
heard them she made no mention of it.
“Anything else we need to know?”

“The last time Odin and I spoke he told me that he thought I was rotten to the core and that I would
never redeem myself in his eyes.” Loki said.

“Classic Walburga move, what’d you hit him back with?” Sirius asked.

“I told him that I only acted as I was raised to be.”

Harry lifted a hand up to his mouth to partially hide his smile. Sirius slapped Loki on the back in
congratulations.

“There is one more thing.” Loki said. “Harry, Demigods were outlawed long before I was born.
You being here is unprecedented and you need to be careful. We have Frigga on our side but
there’s no telling what the people might try to do to you.”

“Dad don’t worry about it. Nothing bad’s gonna happen to me.”

“You can’t know that.”

“The prophecy says that I have to be the one to kill or be killed by Tom.” Harry whispered. “He’s
not here, is he?”

“Are you seriously trying to convince me that you won’t die here because you think the only
person who can kill you is back on earth?”

“Yep.”

“You know, it kind of makes sense Pads. Harry’s survived a lot of shit he shouldn’t have because
of sheer dumb luck. Who’s to say Fate isn’t at work here?”

“You’re both insane! There’s no way to prove this inane idea without risking Harry.”

“I kinda already tested it.” Harry admitted.

“What?” He hissed.

“Remember when Thor was throwing a fit on the roof and I went out there? I should have gotten
hurt or blown off the roof or something. I knew that and I did it anyway. I didn’t even try to dodge
anything.”

Harry watched as Loki remembered the huge piece of flying debris that had missed Harry’s head
by centimeters. The man’s mouth opened a little as realization trickled in.

“Dad. I just fought off a bunch of face eating creatures with a sword I didn’t know how to use and
all I got were a couple of cuts. I defeated Amora without problem.” Harry said. “Asgard isn’t a
threat to me, not until the prophecy is fulfilled.”

“Oh Merlin.” He said. “You…you…”

“I’m going to be fine.” Harry promised with more surety than he felt. It was probably dangerous
taunting fate like this. Telling the Fates themselves that if they wanted him to fulfill this prophecy
so much then they had better put in some work was probably a one trip ticket to pain. But Harry
didn’t care. Fate had dealt him the shittiest hand possible and Harry was tired of being beaten
down. He was going to defeat Voldemort and he expected Fate to help him.
His dad relaxed a little and nodded, they were nearing the throne room now Harry thought. At least
there were more guards dressed in fancy gold armor standing around looking formidable. The
whole palace screamed of wealth and power in a way that remined Harry vaguely of Lucius
Malfoy. Frigga stopped outside two large and golden doors and turned to look at them. She
reached out and straightened out Harry’s hair again.

“I will go in first and you will wait for me to call for you. I promise you my son, Odin will not let
his grandson be hurt.”

Loki didn’t seem to believe her, but he nodded anyway. Frigga pushed open the door and walked
into an ornate throne room. They stood there as the door swung shut again.

“So,” Sirius began. “bets on who’ll annoy the old man first?”

“Oh me definitely.” Harry said. “I’m literally illegal.”

“No. It’ll be me. I’m a mortal, at least you’re only half!”

“I was banished to earth for an unspecified amount of time. I’m pretty sure he’ll be more annoyed
by me.”

They argued about it good naturedly as they waited. It was a good distraction and their insistence
that they would be the most unacceptable to what appeared to be the universe’s ultimate authority
figure was mostly a point of pride. None of them really liked ‘The Man’ very much. Rebels to the
very core they were. It only took three minutes for them to be called in. Of course, they were called
in by an angry shout.

“LOKI!”

But really, that was to be expected.

The three of them, troublemakers and lovers of pranks, moved together as one unit. They walked
flanking Loki on both sides so that he didn’t feel alone facing Odin. Harry even went so far as to
catch his dad’s hand with his own and squeeze it a little. Frigga looked at the action with such
warmth and love that Harry feared she’d actually saw ‘aww’ out loud. Harry looked at the fuming
man sitting on the large throne and blinked.

He was old.

Harry hadn’t even known Asgardians could look old! He just assumed they looked like young
adults forever! Frigga must be around the same age as Odin and she didn’t look old! Granted she
looked a bit older than Loki but it wasn’t too noticeable. Odin had bright white hair and wrinkles
on his face. He also had a golden eyepatch. Why was everything in this palace gold? Had they not
learnt about the other colors of the rainbow or had they just discovered yellow and decided that
was just fine for them?

“All-Father.” Loki said inclining his head the barest amount. "You called for me?”

“Is it true? Did you lay with a mortal woman?”

All three of them clenched their fists at Odin’s tone. No one should ever talk about Lily Evans
Potter that way.

“I married the woman I love and began a family with her.” Loki said. “As is my right.”
“Your right?” Odin seethed. “You have no right to illegally travel to a realm and create a being
capable of destroying worlds.”

Harry didn’t flinch, not even a little. If he’d found Frigga’s open adoration disconcerting it was
nothing on his emotions when facing Odin. The man was sneering at him in the same way Vernon
always did. He hated it. He hated the man before him. He was angry and tired and frustrated. He
glanced over at his dad and saw the same frustration in his eyes. Harry hadn’t done anything to
Odin! Nothing at all! The man had no idea who he was!

“Was this your plan all along? To create something with the power to overthrow me?” Odin asked.
“You will find that a pitiful waif like that will not last long against me, Laufeyson.”

Harry felt his dad flinch and he saw red. His first thought was that he should let Odin put his claim
to the test. Even magically exhausted as he was he was willing to try and take Odin down. He
stepped forward ignoring the way Frigga placed a hand on Odin to quiet him and that guards in the
room had readied their weapons. To his right he felt Sirius step forward too. Harry glared up at the
king, the man who had driven his dad to near madness and suicide. Who made his dad feel so
isolated that he ran away to earth. Who lied to him for centuries.

“Step back.” Odin ordered. “Or you will be seen as threats to the throne of Asgard!”

Just like that moment with Amora when Harry had wondered why he never knew when to shut up,
Harry found his mouth making a decision for him.

“Have you ever, once in your life, not been a gigantic bag of dicks?”
 Let's Talk in Private
Chapter Summary

Odin has a few important realizations and Harry really, really needs to figure out how
to keep his mouth shut. It's going to get him in trouble at some point.

Chapter Notes

I'm back!!!!! The field work was amazing! I got nearly eaten alive by mosquitoes, it
snowed at one of our campsites, we camped next to a forest fire a week after that.
And! at the last place I almost got bitten by a Rattlesnake!
Thankfully I didn't get sunburned tho.
Thanks so much for the amazing comments the past two weeks every time I got signal
the emails from AO3 made me grin with delight!

His first reaction would have been rage. It should have been. An upstart demi-god that looked so
weak that a stiff breeze could send him tumbling to the marble floor was telling him off. It should
have been nothing but enraging. Odin should have slammed Gungnir on the floor and forced him to
the floor. The utter gall of the child to look up at the most powerful man in the nine realms, on
whose good graces he was relying on to get him and his family back to earth safely, and call him a
bag of dicks. It should have ended in a rage.

To his left he saw Frigga stiffen and almost reach for her own sword. Loki had the most naked
expression of emotion Odin had ever seen. Not even the painful scene on the broken Bifrost
compared to the sheer terror that Loki displaying. The unknown human was holding his magical
focus ready to jump to the demigod’s defense.

It was all entirely unnecessary.

Odin wasn’t enraged. He should have been but he wasn’t. He looked at the young half human and
saw the exhaustion in him. That boy had been ground down to near dust by his short life. Trauma
had settled itself on the boy’s shoulders like a cloak. For all the pain, the boy wasn’t cowed. He
looked at Odin as if he were nothing but an inconvenience, as if he were just one more ridiculous
problem that the boy would deal with because no one else had the guts. His green eyes sparked, not
with magic or madness, but with indignation.

If there was one thing that Odin could respect it was someone with mettle.

“I do not honestly believe so.” The tension in the room snapped with his words. The young man
blinked a little stupidly at him. “That is the answer to your question.”

Loki looked so very lost while the unknown human looked absolutely delighted. Frigga had
lowered her hand away from her sword. He should probably be bothered that his beloved wife had
been willing to threaten him over the boy.
“I…right.” The boy said, looking at him with slightly less tenacity in his eyes.

“Will you answer a question of my own?” The boy nodded a little. “Your mother, who is she?”

“My mother is dead. Her name was Lily, she died protecting me from a dark magic user when I
was a baby.”

“And where was your father?”

“Doing the same.”

“I see. Faking his death once again to run from the consequences of his actions.”

“No. You’re not listening to me.” The demi-god said in a tone that made it clear that he would be
listened to. “My dad, Loki, had placed himself in a human body with a lock on his magic. That
body, the person he was, was murdered the same night my mum was. He thought I’d been killed
too. For the past 14 years he’s been mourning the loss of a wife and son.”

Odin glanced over at Loki to see flashes of half suppressed grief. The same flashes that Odin had
assumed were jealousy and bitterness. Flashes that had been as common as a cloud in the sky. The
past decade came into focus for him in a way that was less than pleasant.

“I find it hard to believe that Loki would ever willingly play human.”

“As a human he found people who loved him.” The demi-god spat making it clear what he thought
Odin had felt for Loki. “He had friends, a family that choose him because of who he was not
despite it.”

“A pretty lie.”

“I don’t lie.” The boy shot back. “And you can have that promise in my blood.”

The demi-god lifted his right hand up so that Odin could read the words written in scars on the
back of it. He recognized the cause of it immediately. A blood quill. No one sane would ever
willingly use something like that enough for a mark to sink in so deeply. The hand dropped when
Loki literally growled when he saw it.

“I don’t lie.” I can’t lie.

“Who did that to you?” Odin asked.

“A teacher who didn’t like the truth.” He said like it was nothing, perhaps it wasn’t to him.

“Midgard is far more depraved than I previously thought.”

“Funny. I was about to say the same for this place.”

“You have no idea what…”

“Do you even know my name? Did you even listen to your wife when she told you?” He was
chagrined to realize that he hadn’t. A huge breech in protocol. “That’s what I thought.”

“Perhaps this isn’t a conversation to have in the throne room.” Frigga suggested. “We should retire
to a private room, and clear the air.”

“As always, dear wife, you have impeccable advice. Come, we will speak in my study.”
All of them moved as Odin stood and he lifted up a hand.

“Only the boy.”

“No.” Loki said. “He will not-”

“Dad. It’s fine. How about you find us some food while I talk to him?” When Loki looked
doubtful, and even tempted to make a run for it the boy tried again. “He’s no Tom Riddle.”

“Fine.” He said before sending Odin a very murderous look. Loki didn’t trust Odin with his son but
he had very little choice in the matter, Odin had made sure of that. Frigga sent a very similar look
to Odin that he did his best to ignore.

He had no plans on hurting the child.

The demi-god followed him, head held high out of the throne room and into his private study. Odin
motioned for the boy, who was swaying with exhaustion to sit, and was firmly rebuffed. He sighed,
not even Hela as a child had been this willful and Odin had had to banish her to keep her from
destroying the universe.

“You are tired.” He said. “If we’re to get through the conversation we must have, then you must
sit.”

“I’ve had worse.”

“Sit or I will order that your father and the other mortal not be given food or shelter until you
have.”

The boy’s eyes narrowed, frustration and anger in his posture. Stiffly he plunked himself down
onto the very edge of the chair. Good, they might actually get somewhere.

“I want you to tell me why Loki became a human instead of studying magic in Alfheim.”

“Why don’t you ask him? He’s the one who did it.”

“I cannot trust his word.”

“He’s your son.”

“He is lost to me.”

“Maybe, you’d be able to find him if you didn’t act like a dick all the time.”

Odin narrowed his one eye in anger at the boy. Once was forgivable if only for the shock value but
the boy was pushing it.

“You should not question me.”

“You still haven’t even asked my name. I’ve been in the same room as you for less than 10 minutes
and I already know you that you don’t know how to apologize or admit you were wrong. You
spent the first half of me knowing you yelling at my dad without having any real context as to the
situation and then you took me in here and you’re going to do the same to me.”

The boy’s hand had words of warning on them. He didn’t speak lies he spoke harsh truths. The boy
had crossed his arms over his chest as if daring Odin to try and argue it. Odin found that he didn’t
want to. The words had struck true, there was very little Odin could do to deny them.
“I was a king first, a warrior second, and a father third.” Odin said. “Kings don’t have the luxury of
being wrong.”

“So, you just made all of your mistakes at home then?”

“None of my children turned out the way I hoped they would.” He wouldn’t mention Hela but he
had tried to teach her to be a warrior like him, it hadn’t turned out well. Thor he tried to teach to be
soft and kind and while Thor was that he was also far too trusting and Odin had instilled in him a
sense of arrogance. Loki? Odin had tried to do something in between how he’d raised Hela and
how he’d raised Thor and that compromise had just resulted in bitterness.

“Do you think you were the father they’d hoped you’d be? You seemed really focused on how
they’ve disappointed you.”

“Must you always speak so bitingly?”

“When someone attacks my family and still hasn’t apologized for it? Yeah I think I do.”

Silence. Odin couldn’t deny that he had the same protective instincts. If something were to happen
to Frigga for instance, Odin knew he would have no limits when getting revenge. In comparison
the boy was showing a great deal of restraint, far more than Odin had had at his age.

“What is your name?”

“It’s Harry. Harry Potter.”

“And your father’s?”

“James Potter.”

“Why did Loki become James?”

“There is a hidden community of magic users on earth.” He said. “They went into hiding 400 years
ago because they were being attacked for having magic. They used powerful spells to hide their
existence and remove knowledge of them from the nine realms. My dad discovered the magical
world and fell in love with it.”

Of course, he had. Odin had no doubt that a magic only world would appeal to Loki in the way few
things did.

“So, he stayed?”

“He wanted to experience it.” Harry corrected. “He wanted to know what it was like to feel normal,
to be normal. So he gave himself a human body that he entered as a baby, locking away his
memories and keeping a lot of his magic back, so that he could know.”

“So he lived fully as James then.”

“Until he turned 18. But by that point he’d fallen in love with my mother and found friends so
amazing he couldn’t even think about leaving them.”

The boy, Harry Odin corrected, looked almost comically dwarfed in the large chair he was in.
Were all humans so small and frail looking? His limbs looked thin as sticks, with hardly any meat
to them. Weren’t demi-gods meant to be formidable?

“If he loved her, why not bring her here? Gain permission to marry her?”
“Would you have given it?” The boy shot right back. “Travel to earth was illegal, because of
accidents like me. Loki feared he’d lose everything important and you’d keep him from the one
place he truly felt happy.”

The truth was that Odin would have been furious had Loki come to him. He wanted to deny it, to
pretend he would have been reasonable. But Odin knew the truth. If Loki had told him the truth
then Odin would have done something very drastic, he would have done everything in his power to
tear Loki from that world before a demi-god, a force of destruction could be born. Odin could still
remember the chaos and pain that the last one had brought to them. He had been a young child
then, hiding behind his father’s shield and trembling with fear.

So much death and corruption had spread out from that one man. His eyes had been flames of
madness and with every sweep of his hand more of Asgard’s foundations had been torn asunder.
Even after Bor had beheaded the demi-god Odin hadn’t stopped fearing him. His dreams had been
haunted by the being that was neither mortal nor god but an unholy combination between the two.
The very idea that Loki had helped create a being like that?

It should have been too terrifying to consider.

But Harry wasn’t terrifying. He was annoying.

The boy was glaring at him, looking so tiny that he wondered if Frigga hadn’t been mistaken.
There was no madness, no thirst for innocent blood, no malice in the boy. He looked upset, angry
and most importantly sane.

“You must understand.” Odin said. “Demi-gods are not…”

“I am the only demi-god in the universe.” The boy interrupted. “That means I get to decide what
they are and what they’re not. Not you and definitely not some asshole who died 4000 years ago.”

Well. That was difficult to argue with.

“Then what are you?” Odin asked looking at the boy with his one eye, wishing he could see things
like his wife could.

The boy looked…lost. Gone was the righteous indignation and the spunk that had kept Odin’s rage
from boiling over. Odin’s question had blown the wind out of his sails. Now there was not even a
single hint that this boy was anything but exactly what he appeared. A half-starved exhausted child.
Harry said nothing for a while but slowly his hands began to curl into fists.

“I…I don’t know.” He said, looking up at Odin with the greenest eyes Odin had ever seen.

It was an answer that no one in the House of Odin would have ever uttered. Frigga always knew
who she was even in the most confusing of times. Odin knew he was a king, and anything else was
secondary. His children were all like him, prideful and stubborn to a fault. To admit to ignorance
was too mortifying a thing to even consider. They were gods, they were meant to know who they
were.

And yet while there was fear in Harry’s eyes, there was no shame.

“Tell me about the man who murdered your mother.”

And that was when the conversation went from humbling and revealing to shocking and painful.
The boy, even when he wasn’t trying to actively attack someone with his words, was blunt to a
fault. For the next hour Harry laid down the ruin of Loki’s family and the war in the magical world
at Odin’s feet. He spoke of murders, tortures, and dark magic that thwarted death. He spoke of 50
years of pain that Loki had tried to stop, all on his own, ultimately paying the price of everything
he cared for.

Tom Riddle, an evil monster of a man. A man who had given up his very humanity in the name of
power and destruction. A man who was now running around in a magically constructed body
powered by the blood of a demi-god.

“I don’t know if dad’s realized that yet.” Harry said. “That Tom took my blood to make his new
body. But you know what that means don’t you?”

“I do.”

“There’s a prophecy.”

“Of course, there is.”

“Don’t sound so upset, you’re not the one with the safety of the universe on his shoulders.”

“I have born the weight of that responsibility for millennia.”

“No, you haven’t. You dropped it as soon as you could.” Harry snapped out. “I don’t know about
the other realms but if you call the exactly zero number of things you’ve done in the last 2000
years for earth ‘protection’ then I shudder to think about the state of the realms who actually know
you’re in charge of them.”

“Earth has not been attacked by outside forces for the entirety of…”

“You had 50 years to do something about Tom. And now there’s a snake faced monster getting
ready to not only reduce my planet to rubble but every other one.” The boy said, his voice as final
as the downward slice of a guillotine. “If I fail to…to kill him, nothing will stop him. He’ll come
here and every other realm and he’ll destroy.”

And the fear was back. The very first fear he’d known as a child struck his heart again and he
found no comfort in the boy’s eyes as he had in his father’s all those millennia ago. He found no
comfort there because the child was just as frightened. He looked even smaller now, the bravado
long forgotten.

The enormity of his crime, of his failure, finally became real to him. His deliberate ignorance, his
hands-off policy, his decision to leave every realm but his own to suffer while still claiming to rule
them all. It was all coming to fruition now, in the form of a monster that was too powerful for him
to slay. A monster that would swallow his kingdom whole as if it were nothing but a tiny morsel
on the world tree. And unlike his father, he wouldn’t be able to do anything but die along with his
people.

Odin had tried to make peace. He had finished his father’s mission and conquered every realm,
corrupting his first-born daughter in the process. He hadn’t realized until he looked at Hela’s mad
face just what he had become. He was a warrior, just as cruel and merciless as his father. So, he
had attempted peace. But Odin didn’t know peace, he never had. He had thought that doing nothing
would be the same as making peace.

What a fool he had been.

He had lost his eldest to the madness of war, his youngest to apathy, and now he would lose his
home. He closed his eyes and let his chin dip down, shame and guilt and horror threatening to
drown him.

“I’m sorry.”

The words weren’t enough, they never would be. But Odin never apologized, and those two words
were all he had to give. A measly offering to a demi-god who had every reason to strike him down
for it, like a disobedient acolyte. He should be struck down. There would be no absolution for him.
Not for his failings as a father, not for his cruelty as a king. And still he offered up two stupid,
pointless words. Words that when offered to him in the past had been rebuffed for the useless
things they were.

“I forgive you.”

Odin’s head snapped up to look at the boy. He looked surprised for a moment at the words that had
left his mouth.

“What?”

“I forgive you.” The boy said sounding much surer than he had the first time.

“Don’t jest, child. My pride and apathy led to your mother’s murder.” If Odin had been better, Loki
would have come to him and asked for help. If Odin had been better then Lily would have lived
and Odin would have killed that monstrous viper before he could do one more evil thing.

“I know.” The boy said.

“I contributed to your father’s madness. My failings led him to invade your planet.”

“That’s true.”

“The entirety of the nine realms is on the brink of destruction because of me.”

“And I forgive you.” Harry’s voice was firm but still so kind.

“But I don’t deserve...”

“Don’t you get it?” The boy interrupted again. “Nobody deserves forgiveness.”

Oh.

Odin didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how to react. So he just sat there, not acting like a
king with 5000 years of life experience under his belt. No, he acted like a child younger than the
one before him.

“Look, do you promise to try and not be a dick all the time?”

“I…I’m not sure…how?” The enormity of what the boy was offering him had tied his tongue and
made his words trip stupidly out of him.

“You could try listening to people?” The boy offered. “And offering to help instead of yelling at
people when they do things you don’t agree with. I dunno. Your wife seems pretty nice, try to be
like her.”

He finished that with a shrug. Odin wondered if he could. Change seemed impossible. And yet…
hadn’t he already begun? Instead of striking the boy down where he stood when he spoke today,
Odin had…Odin had chosen something different.
“I’ll try.”

“Then I forgive you.” He said it simply, as if he hadn’t done something so impossible that it defied
comprehension. The boy looked at him, and Odin knew he wasn’t lying or even twisting the truth
anymore. He had been forgiven. “So…what do you want to do now?”

Fly perhaps? The sheer relief from the boy’s words made him feel as if he were flying. His head
was too light for his shoulders. He shook his head just slightly.

“I imagine your father is crawling the walls with worry for you.” His words caused the boy to
snort.

“Yeah no kidding. You should have seen him when he found out about the basilisk I killed.”

“A basilisk?”

“Yeah I killed it like…three years ago and he freaked out like it was in the room with us! Can you
believe?”

Laughter escaped Odin before he quite knew it. He started to laugh, harder and harder. Odin had
been quite wrong about this demi-god.

He was insane.

“What did I say?”

“Nothing.” Odin said getting himself under control. He stood up from his seat and straightened his
back. “Come on, let’s go find your father and discuss how Asgard can help you with this Tom
Riddle problem.”

“Really?” The boy squeaked.

“Yes. It’s high time Asgard…It’s high time I answered the call of those I’ve sworn to protect.”

“Cool.” The boy said getting up from his chair and then looking at the door. He looked back at
Odin slightly sheepish. “I don’t actually know where anything is here…er All-Father.”

“Follow me.” Odin said leading the boy back to the door. “Tell me about this basilisk?”

“It’s kind of a long story.”

“Trust me, Harry. I’ve got the time.”

“Well, it all started with a diary…”

 The One Thing Harry Learned From Sirius
Chapter Summary

James and Sirius have a conversation about what to do when they get back to earth.
When Odin and Harry finally show up from their private meeting, things get weird.

Chapter Notes

Guess who's back on schedule??? That's right! It's me! The Grad Student who wrote
this instead of the methodology section of her thesis! Lol jk.
Seriously though, thanks so much for the great comments last chapter. I was a little
unsure about that one and the comments made me feel a lot better!
I'm thinking of moving my update day to Saturday. I haven't decided yet, what do you
guys think? Is Wednesday still good?

“James calm down.” Sirius said for the 15 th time in the last ten minutes.

“Calm down? Calm down!?! They’ve been in there for an eternity!”

“It’s not even been an hour.” Sirius argued. “Aren’t you like a billion years old? This should be a
piece of cake.”

“I’m only a little over 2000.”

“Oh well excuse me for mixing that up. Of course, 43 minutes of time is an eternity to someone
who’s only barely over 2000.”

James shot Sirius a look, it was such a familiar one that Sirius had to ignore the pang in his heart.
That was the look James always gave him when he teased him about Lily back when they were
students. His best friend did so like blowing things out of proportion. He ignored the Remus in his
head that reminded him that he did the exact same thing.

“You don’t understand.”

“Do you remember my mother? Trust me, I get it. The pup’ll be fine, isn’t that what Frigga said? I
don’t think she’d let Odin do anything too bad to him.”

“Odin listens to no one. He’s the king of the entire universe.”

“I’m very convinced that his wife could kick his ass if she needed to.” That actually made James
laugh a little. Good. “Now come on, help me eat all this stuff. I’ve not really had the best meals in
the past decade you know.”

“Don’t remind me.” James begged. “I don’t know how I could have let it…”

“Stop. This isn’t your fault.” Sirius said motioning to his less than stellar good looks. “I’ll get
better now that I’m out of Grimmauld Place.”

“Why in Merlin’s left tit did you go back there?”

“Dumbledore.” That was the only word of explanation they needed really.

James looked very sour, now totally distracted from their current problem with another far stickier
one. At least in Sirius’ opinion. Odin looked like a few good kicks in between the legs was all he
needed to get his head on straight. Dumbledore was far more problematic. Dumbledore ran the
Order and they needed the Order if they stood half a chance at winning this damn war.

Sure potentially they could just kill the old bastard but Sirius saw two problems with that simple
solution. First was that it would likely upset Harry. The kid had begged Sirius not to kill Peter, the
very idea of murder went against most everything that kid believed in. Harry didn’t deserve to be
put through any more upset than the world had already thrust on him. The second problem was that
Dumbledore knew things that no one in the Order did.

His secrets had secrets.

What if they killed him and with Dumbledore’s death they lost that one key bit of information that
Harry needed to win? The ass was always hoarding knowledge away, only dropping tidbits to key
people once every decade so that they’d all be forced to keep listening to him blow farts out of his
mouth.

“How loyal is the Order?” James asked. “Is it…like it was?”

“Most of the original members are dead or insane.” Sirius admitted. “Of the original there’s
Shaklebolt, Mad-Eye, Me, Remus, Hagrid, Dumbledore, Molly, and Arthur. Oh and Snape of
course but he hardly counts for anything.”

“So few…”

“James. We’ve got some new blood too, besides we were always a small group. That’s not what
mattered.”

“You’re right. Of course you are.” James said. “And…will they follow Dumbledore or…or me?”

“Honestly I don’t think they should be following you.”

“What?”

“James. I love you, you’re my brother in everything but just trust me on this one. If you go in there
and spill out every dirty thing Dumbledore’s done then the Order will literally splinter apart.”

“You can’t possibly be suggesting that we let him continue?”

“Dementors made me depressed not stupid.” James rolled his eyes at the quip and picked up a large
golden goblet filled with honeyed mead. He took a sip of it and then looked at Sirius obviously
expecting an idea. That was how they worked back in the day, one of them presenting a problem
and being dramatic about it while the others in the group came up with something reasonable to do.
“Like it or not, we need Dumbledore right now.”

“I am a god I don’t need…”

“James.”
“Alright fine. So, the old goat might have information I don’t.”

“Exactly. The original order members are going to be mostly loyal to Dumbledore, he kept them
afloat through the first war. Most people believe Dumbledore is the only thing old Voldy fears.”

“Getting rid of Dumbledore will split loyalties.”

“At least at first. I know if we told them the truth plenty of them would be enraged and refuse to
work with the old man but we can’t take the risk of splitting up our already diminished forces.”

“So, we can’t tell anyone? I just come back to the Order and spin a lie about not knowing that
Harry was alive, leave his betrayal out of it?”

“It’ll come out eventually of course.” Sirius said calmly grabbing for his own goblet. He took a
thoughtful sip before placing it back down, the heavy metal clinking against the table. “But I think
the Marauders can plan something a bit better than just yelling it out like toddlers, right?”

A gleam, a comforting and wonderfully mischievous gleam, entered James’ eyes. He leaned
forward.

“Oh Padfoot. I hope you’re going where I think you’re going with this.”

“I don’t see why we can’t play with it a little, is all.” Sirius said a grin over taking his face that was
far too devious to match with his calm tone. “Stretch it out. I mean, if you were to go back to the
Order, all apologies and explanations, you’d be welcome back again. Especially if you brought
along your wall of a muscle for a brother as extra firepower. Then you could explain Harry’s
heritage and of course, it’d only be natural that the kid will need training to control his strength and
power.”

“And, well I can’t take him out of Hogwarts and away from Dumbledore’s ‘protection’ can I?”
James added on his voice manic. “So, I suppose I’ll just have to go to school with him. As a
teacher of course. Under cover as it were. No one but Harry and his friends will know the truth. To
the school I’ll just be a humble god of magic reconnecting with the magical world after a few
centuries of absence.”

“It only makes sense!” Sirius said wagging his finger dramatically. “Besides everyone knows that
the defense position is cursed. It’ll surely be open for you, even if Snape’s been gunning for it for
years.”

“Has he really?” James asked his face a masterpiece of delight. “I hope he’ll understand why I’ll
have to steal it from him, it’s for the war effort you know.”

“Of course, he will! He’s such a graceful and giving fellow.” Sirius did everything in his power not
to laugh at that, James looked like he was facing a similar struggle.

“So…so I’ll teach defense against the dark arts.” He said stumbling a little as the laughter tried to
break through from where it was trapped behind his teeth. “Which means I’ll spend time with
Dumbledore not reminding and threatening him at every turn about what he did and most certainly
not making Snape’s life a living hell for teaching Harry Occulmency the way he did.”

“That’s exactly what you’d do. You’ll be far too busy pretending to be the nicest, most
approachable man on the entire staff. Besides, I imagine that a certain You-Know-Who will send a
message to his spy on the inside about trying to woo you to their side.”

And finally. The very idea that Voldemort would make Snape try to befriend James, that idea made
them both look once at each other and burst into laughter. It was absolutely ludicrous and Sirius
found that he couldn’t stop laughing. He visualized Snape’s face as he tried to be nice to James, to
act convincing enough for everyone to see that Snape wanted to be friends with him. Every time he
even tried to picture that face more loud bellows escaped his throat.

James was going to be so delightfully wicked at Hogwarts. Filling Dumbledore with fear over a
very powerful and very vengeful god while torturing anyone else who they felt had done Harry
wrong over the years. Then once Dumbledore had finally shared everything they needed to know
or Voldemort was dead as a doornail revenge could truly be theirs. Sirius only wished he could be
there to see all that mischief.

“You could.” James said when Sirius told him after the laughter had quieted a little. “Just…be my
pet dog, a friendly thing that’ll calm down the first years or something. You could even do a bit of
mischief on your own that way couldn’t you?”

“James…”

“Are you telling me you don’t want to piss on Snape’s shoes when he can’t do anything about it?”

Another flurry of giggles. Oh, how he had missed his friend. Sirius washed down his laughter with
some more mead and then leaned back in the insanely comfortable chair Frigga had placed him in
before taking her leave about an hour before. He looked up at the golden ceiling and swallowed
back any remaining joy. He thought about the little kid, the pup, who was facing down Odin of all
things for them while they giggled like the children they’d never really stopped being.

“We really messed up, didn’t we?” Sirius asked. “With Harry?”

“I…Yes I think we did.”

“I mean I just…I gave him to Hagrid without a second thought, didn’t I? I choose going after that
pustule for revenge and he…oh James you have no idea where Dumbledore left him and that’s all
my fault.”

“I do.” James said his hands wrapping around the solid metal goblet so hard that the stem literally
bent like it was made of putty. “I do know, and don’t you dare think that Tunie is getting away
with it.”

“I…I promised you and Lily I’d look out for him but I wasn’t there James. I wasn’t.”

“You were suffering in Azkaban. I was dining on the finest fare in the golden realm. Neither of us
are innocent.” He pushed the guilt he felt down. James looked at him, his now blue eyes had the
same look of comfort that the old brown ones had had. “All we can do is be better for him now.”

“You’re right. Just like always James.”

“Are you kidding me? I’m never right. That was Moony’s job.”

“True. Too true!”

“Poor sod, being friends with two of the biggest idiots this side of the sun.”

“Remus is going to be so pissed off when he sees us.” Sirius giggled.

“Oh Merlin. He’s going to do worse to me than just a broken nose. Sirius you’ve got to protect
me.”
“And get in the way of an angry Moony? No way. You are on your own!”

“Padfoot! How dare you betray me like this!”

“What are you scared of? You’re a god!”

“It’s Remus!” Sirius winced at the truth of that.

“I’ll make sure they decorate your funeral with Lilies.”

“Oh well that makes me feel so much better.”

“Good.” Sirius laughed a little. “Hate for you to feel bad before you die. That’d be a downer.”

Maybe it was the fact that in the last hour he’d been drinking heavenly honeyed mead that was
strong enough to leave him feel tipsy with only five or six sips of it. Maybe it was the fact that
everything in Asgard felt warm and safe compared to where he’d been living in the past decade;
Azkaban, Grimmauld Place, and then that awful fog world. Maybe it was the fact that Sirius had
just joked about a funeral and dying.

Sirius started to cry. Big fat tears escaped his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. He sniffled a little.

“Pads?”

“I…I didn’t go to your funeral. I wasn’t…I never got to say goodbye to you. James I never got to
say goodbye. You were just gone! Poof! You and Lily and then I was all alone and…and…”

James hugged him, reaching out from the other side of the couch and pulling Sirius in with his
godly strength carefully tempered, muttering about how they should never drink together. They
always got teary when they did. Sirius only hugged him back knowing the other man was probably
crying too.

“It was a nice funeral.” He said, his voice partially muffled by James’ shoulder. “Remus went, he
said that…that the only thing that was missing was a bit of mischief. Most people just talked about
how…how much you and Lily loved each other.”

“I can’t think of a better way to be remembered.” He said, voice trembling in a way that Sirius
knew meant he was crying. “Oh Padfoot I missed you, and her and everything. I’m sorry. I never
once had the courage to visit your grave, never brought you flowers you’d hate, just to annoy your
immortal soul.”

Sirius clung to his best friend who still somehow managed to still smell like that same stupid
cologne he started using when they were 18. What idiots they were. What stupid blind idiots.
Remus really did deserve smarter friends, didn’t he? They were just two fools who started to cry
whenever they had a drink together and who had both made stupid choices that hurt the people
they cared for the most.

He didn’t tell James he forgave him. He didn’t really have to.

“We’re lucky.” Sirius said. “Remus is easier to deal with than Lily was at least. Remus is only
going to chew you up the once.”

James shivered and then laughed. He loosened his grip on Sirius and pulled back slightly. He told
him that they needed to sober up.
“Who knows what Odin is going to do. We need to be…sharp!”

“Right.” Sirius said pulling his wand out of his sleeve. “Ugh I hate this spell.”

He cast a spell that removed every trace of alcohol from his body and placed it back into his
goblet. It felt awful. He grimaced at the weird sucking sensation while James did the same. Their
cups were now totally full and his mind felt very clear and sober.

Sobriety.

Ugh.

“There.” Sirius said. “Now, how long do you think this is going to take with the All-Daddy?”

James made a pained choking noise while Sirius smirked.

“Never call him that again!”

“Fine fine!” Sirius said in a tone that made it clear he was definitely going to call him that again.
“Seriously though. How long? Harry needs his rest doesn’t he? We were in that fog world for a
pretty long time and I doubt you’d come there straight after a good night’s rest.”

“No.” Loki said with a grimace. “It was late actually, and we’d had a long…tense day.”

“Tense?”

“Apparently, I’m not very skilled at immediately getting along with my estranged son. Do you
want to know what the first thing he did when he found out who I was?”

“What?”

“He snuck out from under Dumbledore’s eyes, entered the United States illegally, and punched me
right in the face.” Sirius stared at James in shock. “I’m serious. He saved my life against the
Enchantress Amora then he punched me in the face and portkeyed away before we could even
talk.”

“James.” Sirius said his voice helpless against the surging joy coming from somewhere deep his
chest. “I love that boy so much.”

Just as James was going to no doubt return that with a witty quip, the door to the room they’d been
shoved into opened. Both men sat up and blinked to see Harry and Odin walking side by side
together into the room. Odin’s face no longer held the malice and disdain it had in the throne
room. Instead he was listening to Harry tell a story with something like awe in his one eye.

It was without a doubt one of the weirdest things Sirius had ever seen. Because in the few seconds
they had before Harry and Odin were close enough to greet them, it had looked like Odin was
following Harry’s lead.

“So, then I jumped into it’s mouth and stabbed up through into it’s brain.” Harry finished. “Of
course, it also bit me in the shoulder at the same time but luckily, there was a phoenix there to cry
on the bite so I was just fine, not even a scratch on me.”

Sirius really needed to teach the kid how to tell better stories. How did he manage making a story
about slaying a basilisk sound as boring as going grocery shopping? Surely the kid knew better
than that right? Although based on the look on his face probably not. Pitiful.
“And that’s it?” Odin asked.

“That’s it. Like I said, not even a big deal.” Of course, it was a big deal! Sirius had seen the kid
show more excitement and pride over a quidditch win than slaying a deadly mythical beast. “Hey
dad, Sirius! Sorry it took so long. Have you guys been alright here?”

Poor James was looking between Odin and Harry like his brain was frying.

“It’s been fine. The food’s good.” Sirius said. “And you?”

“Oh, it’s been just…great.” Harry said shifting a little to look better at Odin. “And I think the All-
Father has something he’d like to say?”

Odin suddenly looked awkward of all things. A god, the god of gods, looked awkward. Harry had
a look on his face that was eerily similar to a mother who was trying to get a rowdy child to do
something polite in front of company.

“Yes. Tom Riddle poses a threat far too great. He stole the blood of a demi-god to power his new
form and as such is a danger to all nine realms. It is my duty-” Harry cleared his throat just slightly
at the word duty and Odin paused before correcting himself. “It is my honor to offer whatever aid
Asgard can give to defeat this monster.”

“And?” Harry pushed, his tone so similar to Molly Weasley that Sirius almost wondered if she was
in the room with them.

“And.” Odin said, his voice almost pained. “I am sorry Loki. I should have allowed you to explain
the truth today without immediately passing judgement.”

What. The. Fuck.

Harry had now turned his gaze back to James, his face expectant. Sirius lightly kicked his best
friend which got him to sit forward a little, his face painted in something like condemnation.

“I don’t see why I should-” Harry’s face turned from expectant to almost threatening, a ‘don’t you
dare’ look that Sirius hadn’t seen since the last time he’d had dinner with Lily. “-not forgive you.
Learning about a demi-god must have been very shocking. Let’s leave it in the past, where it
belongs.”

“Right, yes.” Odin said. “We should sit and discuss…things.”

“Great idea.” Harry said brightly all trace of Molly Weasley and Lily Evans gone from his
countenance as if they’d never even been there at all. Harry plopped himself down onto one of the
free chairs and immediately started grabbing for food.

Sirius found he couldn’t blame the boy for being hungry. Since the last time he’d ate they’d been
attacked by weird fog zombies, traveled to a new realm, been forcibly bathed by a stubborn queen,
and interrogated by a prickish king. Although the king looked now more cowed than prickish. No
wonder the kid was starved. Odin sat down in another chair, stiff, his one eye switching between
looking at the table full of food and at James.

It was unfortunate that the kid was focused on his food though. Without him there was nothing to
stop the room from becoming so awkward it was bordering on suffocating. Sirius’ personal brand
of tension breaking (making fun of James) really wasn’t appropriate for the setting. After about
thirty seconds, a literal eternity, of silence the moment was broken when Harry reached for a
goblet.
“Not that one.” James said. “Trust me, you don’t want the mead. I’ll get you some tea.”

“You don’t let him drink mead?” Odin asked, his voice almost bewildered.

James didn’t respond immediately, too busy conjuring some tea out of nowhere for Harry who took
it with ease, giving the mugs of mead a look of consternation.

“Thanks.” He said before sipping at the tea.

“He’s not even 16 yet.” James said to Odin as if the man was daft. “I hardly want him drinking
something that’ll addle his brains, they’re not even done developing yet.”

It was just like James wasn’t it? To get all fussy over things like that, no matter the situation. Even
Lily had been calmer about their baby’s safety than James had been. Although looking back on it
that was probably because Lily knew Harry was a demi-god and figured he was pretty much
invincible to most things while James just liked to panic.

“It’s just mead.” Odin said. “You were drinking that when you were much younger than him.”

“And look how that turned out.” James snarled. “Clearly your parenting style lacks in any number
of ways!”

Oh shit. Sirius hadn’t been a part of this much drama since he ran away from home at 16. He
looked between the two gods and then at Harry who was doing much the same. Sirius settled back
a little to get out of the crossfire that was no doubt about to come about and watched.

He had to get his entertainment somehow.

Odin looked offended enough to combust, far more than when Harry had called him a bag of dicks
earlier, he looked furious in fact. Before he could snarl back what would have no doubt been
inflammatory, Harry interrupted.

“All-Father.”

Immediately Odin’s strings were cut, indignation and rage blown away by just two words, and he
looked away from James.

“I suppose you are right James.” Holy shit. Holy flying balls of shit. What was going on? Sirius
couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “You were right about a great many things.”

James looked a little…frightened now. It was the same fright that he’d had when Lily had actually
agreed to go on that date with him. After so many years of her saying no and him knowing what to
expect from her, the change and the unknown future had frightened him. And here was that same
fright, the fear of facing the unknown. Sirius reached out and placed a hand over James’, one quick
squeeze to remind him he wasn’t alone.

“Like what?” His voice was only slightly shaky.

“Thor’s coronation.” Odin said after a moment, his voice decisive. “You were right about him not
being ready.”

Sirius only knew bits and pieces of that story, what James had shared back in that fog world.
Merlin, he needed a better name for it than ‘fog world’ if he was going to keep having to think
about it. James’ hand was tense beneath Sirius’ own.
“Is that all?”

“Did you want an entire list, Loki?” Odin demanded, frustrating and almost cornered. “Is that what
this conversation is to become? A laundry list over a thousand years old? No, Loki.”

“You don’t get to say that!” James shouted, slamming his hand on the table. All of the goblets and
plates of the food rattled from the force of it. “Don’t tell me no! Not now, not ever!”

Odin looked pained then and Sirius didn’t understand why. Neither did Harry but the kid had
obviously decided he shouldn’t interrupt whatever this conversation was becoming.

“Loki.”

“Remove my punishment from me.” James demanded ignoring the pleading tone in Odin’s voice.
“I need to be free to move and act on earth and the other realms to defeat Riddle.”

“Yes, of course.”

“I want Hiemdall’s eyes on earth, looking for information, anything on the Death Eater movements
and I want to be told directly about it.”

“It will be done.”

“In a few months I want some warriors, the best you can spare, to guard the castle my son will be
living in. He’s the only one who can kill Riddle and Riddle knows it. He’ll be under constant attack
and I want more security.”

“I will send them when you call.”

“I need free use of the Bifrost as well as access to Asgard’s resources.”

“You will have it.”

“Good.”

“Is that all?” Odin asked in a tone that made it clear he expected to offer much more.

“For now. Harry, Sirius, let’s go.”

“You’re leaving?” Odin asked as James stood up and began to sweep out of the room. The old man
looked helpless and lost as Sirius got up to follow his friend. He was never one to turn down the
chance at a dramatic exit. Harry’s eyes switched between Odin and James for a moment before he
swallowed and spoke, his voice slightly nervous

“Um, Dad?” James paused and turned slightly.

“Harry, come on, let’s go.”

“Could we stay? Just for the night?” Harry asked, rubbing his arm awkwardly. “It’s just that I
haven’t slept in like 24 hours and the first two times we’ve traveled to a different planet has been…
well exhausting. Plus, well, it might be nice to sleep here?”

“Nice?” James asked.

“Well, its not like Riddle’s going to be able to pop out from under my bed here like he does on
earth. It might be safe?”
James immediately melted, having totally forgotten his rage and dramatics in the face of his tired
and slightly frightened looking son. Sirius stared at Harry from a point where James couldn’t see
his face.

“There are guest rooms.” Odin said. “For both your son and your…friend. They are ready for them
now.”

“I suppose. One night wouldn’t hurt.” James said. “But we are leaving in the morning.”

“Thank you, dad.” Harry said as if he hadn’t just pulled the biggest manipulation stunt of his life.
Odin stood up, almost eager to get them to a bed.

“Come. I’ll show you the way.”

Odin walked out the door, James only a moment behind him. Harry jumped up, picking up a last
bite of food, before hopping over to Sirius.

“Sirius, you were right.”

“What?”

“You told me to act all sad! It works! This is brilliant! Come on, let’s go catch up with them.”

Sirius watched the kid go, slowly lifting a hand, horrified at what he’d just learnt.

“What have I done?”

But the empty room had no answer for him.

 Harry Potter's Perfectly Wonderful Day
Chapter Summary

Harry wakes up finally recovered from his magical exhaustion and attempts to explore
the royal city of Asgard.

Chapter Notes

Ya'll this chapter was a struggle to write. I dunno, I think my brain just wanted to
complain. But I got it done and hopefully next week will be easier.
Thanks for the great comments though! I'm glad you all enjoyed Harry's
manipulations lol.

Harry actually slept well in Asgard. He’d been mostly bluffing about believing that sleeping on a
different planet, far away from Voldemort, would help him sleep. But oddly enough, it had. He’d
fallen asleep almost immediately after Odin had shown him where his guest room was. He’d
managed to wish his dad and Sirius a goodnight and get into some strange pajamas before face
planting into the most comfortable bed in the universe.

His guest room was more accurately described as a suite. It had a large bedroom, complete with a
lovely deck he could stand on and look over the entire city. There was also a walk-in closet, an
ostentatious bathroom, and a sitting room. Harry had taken all of that knowledge in absently before
falling asleep. Now upon waking up several hours later Harry had the mental capacity to actually
appreciate the room Odin had given him.

He got up feeling very refreshed. The exhaustion that had dogged him since his fight with Amora
had finally ceased. Probably due to both being seen by Asgard’s healers and the uninterrupted
night’s sleep. It was good to finally feel rested. The first thing Harry noticed upon waking was the
set of clean clothing folded at the foot of the bed. There was a roll of parchment right at the top.
Harry sat up, rubbing at his eyes a little before picking up the parchment and unrolling it.

Pup!

I managed to convince your dad to let you sleep in by reminding him about your scar and how we
need to research ways to block your connection to the Dark Pastry. Who knows how long he’s
going to be in the library looking through books now? Doesn’t matter, should be worth it if we find
something to help. Odin and Frigga both seemed really keen to keep us here too so there’s that.

(What did you do to Odin anyway? One minute he’s spitting venom and the next he’s a docile as a
puppy!)

Anyway, we’ll be in the library when you wake up. Odin declared you and me honored guests
which means we can do whatever we want! Feel free to join us for our research party if you’d like.
If not, well then do what people like us do best!
Sow Chaos. Cause Trouble. Practice Mischief and Craft Pranks!

-Solemnly up to no good,

Sirius

Below Sirius’ scrawl was a second note. This one was slightly more legible.

Starlight,

Please do not cause chaos if you can manage it. Normally I’d be all for it but we need to be able to
leave easily once I find the books we need. I love you, starlight and I don’t want to have to pull you
out of the arms of the royal guard anytime soon. Save the mischief for earth yes?

Once you’re dressed go to the feasting hall and eat up. If you want you can come to the library but
if you’d like to explore I won’t stop you. Asgard is very safe from danger, safer than New York.
There shouldn’t be any problem with you having fun. Frigga pointed out that since we probably
won’t be coming back you might like to do some site-seeing before we go.

I put some money in your clothes if you want to buy anything. (Perhaps some souvenirs for Ron
and Hermione?) The small bronze coins (Liras) are basically a single pound note. The silver coins
(Helcs) are worth 20 of the bronze ones and the gold coins (Gull) are worth 50 of the silver ones.
You shouldn’t be spending the gull much. Most good quality trinkets cost 10-20 helcs. If they’re
asking for gull they’re likely overcharging you.

Don’t worry about money too much. I’m a prince, we have more than enough.

I love you, don’t forget to eat!

-Your dad.

P.S. Your armor and sword are at the royal smithy getting repaired and sharpened. I gave the
smith your measurements to get things properly fitted but we might need to stop by there before we
leave to do one last fitting, that creature only got you because the chest plate was slightly too big.

P.P.S Don’t ask how I know your measurements.

Harry rolled his eyes but smiled at the warmth his dad’s words caused in him. He carefully dressed
in the strange Asgardian clothing, glad that he sort of knew how to put it on thanks to Frigga’s
mothering the day before. Once he was dressed he put the note into one of the pockets. He found
the money pocket and tried to pull out the money to see how much his dad had given him.
However, he found that with each handful he pulled out there was one more just sitting inside.

Enchanted money pocket.

Nice.

Harry left the guest room after finding his boots and putting them on. He got lost in the palace for a
good ten minutes before his nose smelt food and he found the feasting hall. It reminded him a lot
of the Great Hall back in Hogwarts. It was a huge cavernous room filled with long tables that were
nearly bowed down with plates of food. There were hundreds of Asgardians sitting around, yelling
and laughing and eating in the morning light.

Harry spotted some Asgardian boys that looked to be his age. They were wearing simple white
tunics and golden trousers. If they hadn’t been eating like animals Harry would have called them
almost angelically dressed. When he got close enough, he spotted the myriad of weapons the boys
all had on their persons and he rethought the angelic thing. One of the boys, a dark skinned teen
with golden brown eyes, looked up as Harry got close.

“Hey!” He shouted. “What are you doing here?”

“I erm…got lost?” Harry stuttered.

“Hemrod?” One of the boys asked. “Do you think he’s a new recruit?”

“He must be, too young to be an apprentice and too skinny to be finished with training.” The boy
decided. Hemrod stood up and held out a hand for Harry to shake. “I’m Hemrod Aegerson, you’re
a new warrior trainee right? Don’t worry about getting lost, Tyr isn’t going to get after you on the
first day.”

“I’m not…”

“Seriously. I’ll vouch for you. What’s your name?”

“Haraldr.” Harry said as the larger boy tugged Harry into the seat.

“Well Haraldr. It’s good to meet you.” Hemrod said. “This is Afkarr, he’s training to be an archer.
There’s also Heimir with the axe and his brother Herdic who’s training with a staff.”

Hemrod continued introducing the other boys he was sitting by with their names and then what
weapon they were using. Harry couldn’t get a word in edgewise to explain that he wasn’t a new
trainee and that he had been just looking for a place to sit.

“So what weapon do you use?” One of the boys asked when Hemrod finished.

“Uhm…a sword.” Harry said. “I’m really new so it’s not like I’ve had much practice yet though.”

“A sword huh? We all learn to use them of course but only some people specialize in it.” Hemrod
said. “Baldur’s the only one in our group who does.”

“Ugh. Baldur. You best be careful Haraldr. Baldur doesn’t like someone stepping on his turf.”

“Is he really that bad?” Harry asked.

“He’s only the top trainee in our group, he wins every fight he gets into and he won’t shut up about
it.”

“Sounds annoying.”

“You’ve got no idea. He’s not going to be nice to you at all since you’re so scrawny.”

“Hey.” Harry said.

“Don’t be like that.” Hemrod said slapping him on the back far harder than necessary. “Surely you
know you’re small.”

“Well yeah but that’s not a bad thing.” Harry told them. “Just means I’m quicker than most
people.”

“That’s the spirit!” Afkarr said.

“Come on everyone, let’s finish eating. We’re supposed to be at the training yards in thirty
minutes!”

So, Harry found himself scarfing down food surrounded by a bunch of warriors in training. It was
similar to how it felt to eat with his quidditch team. They were nice boys and besides the occasional
joke about his stature they were pretty welcoming. Harry planned on sneaking away when the boys
all got up but Hemrod grabbed him by the arm and dragged him to the training yards. The entire
walk over he told him about what training was like and what to do to avoid getting Tyr upset with
you.

Which would be useful information if Harry had any idea who Tyr was.

When they got to the training yard Hemrod pulled Harry right up to an older man who was missing
his left hand. Hemrod explained for Harry in a very Hermione-esque way who Harry was and how
he’d gotten lost which is why he hadn’t reported to Tyr himself before breakfast. Tyr listened to
the fast paced monologue with a look of practiced patience in his eyes.

“Yes, yes boy I see.” Tyr said cutting across Hemrod asking Tyr to understand that Haraldr hadn’t
meant any disrespect. “Haraldr is it? I’ll cut you some slack but you best be here on time
tomorrow, in uniform and with your weapon. Got it?”

“Uhm…yes sir.” Harry said, having no intention of ever coming back to this place again. Wasn’t
he supposed to be getting souvenirs?

“Good. Now go sit down, the lesson’s starting soon and then after you’ll be doing practicals.”

Harry had no idea what practicals were and he found that he definitely didn’t want to know.
Hemrod dragged him over to the benches anyway. Tyr moved to the front of the benches so that all
the young warriors in training were facing him. In the hand that wasn’t missing, the man held a
broad sword. Probably the hugest sword Harry had ever seen in his life. He started talking and
demonstrating certain holds and sets of movements. He explained in intricate detail how to disarm
your opponent if they were wielding an axe or a sword or a spear and so on.

Harry, despite not actually wanting to be there, found the lesson very informative. It clarified in
many ways the few things his dad had attempted to explain back in that fog world. Harry paid close
attention to how Tyr stood and held his weapon. It reminded him of how Remus and Sirius held
their wands and moved during a duel. He had a fair amount of practice getting a stance on the
ground that was good enough to keep you from getting knocked over from a spell. Still he thought
the way Tyr was standing was a bit steadier than Harry had figured out how to do on his own.

His mind went back to the DA and he realized that some of what Tyr was sharing he could share
with his friends. With that in mind he paid even closer attention. He had the insane urge to take
notes. Hermione would be pleased no doubt while Ron would be in despair. Or maybe not. Ron
might like the idea of sword fighting too. There was a lot to the hour long lecture but Harry did his
best to commit all of it to memory.

Some of the other warriors in training were not as eager. 15 minutes into the lecture they all started
to get twitchy. Some of them started elbowing and whispering to each other. Others started
drawing doodles in the dirt with their feet. Tyr had the same sharp eyes as Professor Snape and
suddenly Harry knew why Hemrod had tried to calm Harry down over upsetting the man. No doubt
Tyr knew who was messing about and would punish them all appropriately for the noise.

Harry knew how to deal with Snapes so he sat perfectly still and attentive. He didn’t even twiddle
his thumbs.
Sure, enough when the lecture ended Tyr called up warriors one by one to test out the moves he’d
demonstrated. He stood in the center of the fighting ring, designated by white paint on the dirt. The
trainees who’d been messing about always ended up flat on their back with at least three new
bruises forming on their body. Slowly Tyr worked his way down to the warriors who’d at least
acted like they’d been paying attention. These warriors still ended up flat on their back but at least
they didn’t accrue black eyes. Harry watched Tyr’s movements, analyzing them like he’d analyzed
quidditch strategies.

Despite lacking a hand on his right side, Tyr was by no means weak. In fact he had trained to the
point that his right side was his best defended side. He wielded a broad sword with one hand and
managed to defend his right side, sometimes at the cost of his left. But no one ever went for the left
side. All of the younger warriors went straight for the side missing the hand, working under the
assumption that a lack of a limb meant weakness.

Harry knew better than that. He’d met Mad-Eye Moody after all.

Tyr was probably really good. Harry got the feeling he was holding back so that the trainees could
have a chance at actually succeeding. That combined with the fact that Tyr would expect a brand
new recruit to go for his right side helped hatch a plan in Harry’s head. He couldn’t get injured
doing this, his dad would freak out. Harry didn’t need a freaked out dad. A freaked out dad
wouldn’t be calm enough to work out his issues with Odin and certainly wouldn’t be calm enough
to not attack Tyr on sight.

“Baldur!” Tyr called. “You’re next!”

The largest of the teens stood up. He had long flowing blonde hair and muscles the thickness of
Harry’s head. He reminded Harry of Thor, a shorter teen version of Thor. The only thing that was
unlike Thor was the very arrogant look on his face. Thor had never looked so boastful in all the
time Harry had known the man. Granted that had been less than a week by this point but his
opinion still stood. Baldur had Thor’s body with Draco Malfoy’s face.

Baldur walked up to the center of the circle where Tyr was waiting for him. He unsheathed his
giant sword from his hip and took his stance. Tyr counted down from three and on the word one,
Baldur sprung forward. Baldur, like all of the other warriors before him, went to the right but he
went slightly lower, just as Tyr had instructed. Tyr seemed to expect Baldur’s speed and parried.
Soon the two of them were swinging back and forth, swords clanging against each other, the blades
glinting in the sun.

Harry had to admit that Baldur was good, not great. But good. Without magic Harry would
certainly have a really hard time defeating him, if only because the guy was huge. Harry’d
probably ask Thor to borrow his hammer if he had to fight Baldur without any magic.

Who cared if that would be slightly cheating?

Harry was broken out of his thoughts by Baldur being sent tumbling to the ground, his sword
flying out of his hand and landing on the dirt a few meters away.

“Good job, Baldur. Another century or two of practice and you might actually be close to
winning.” Tyr said in a way that made it clear he was genuinely complimenting the guy. Tyr
stabbed the tip of his broad sword into the dirt and then held out his hand to help Baldur up off the
ground. Something he hadn’t done with any other student.

“Yeah whatever.” Baldur said getting up without Tyr’s help and stomping over to his own sword.
Tyr frowned at the disrespect and then looked over at Harry.
“Haraldr? Do you think you can do better than Baldur?”

“I…I’ll try.” Harry said standing up.

Baldur froze mid-step before turning to look at Harry. The guy had a murderous look on his face
until he saw Harry and then it turned into a very condescending one.

“Here.” Hemrod said holding out his sword. “You can borrow mine until you get your own.”

“Thanks.” Harry said.

“Come out here Haraldr and test your strength.”

“Right yeah. I mean yes sir.” Harry said taking the sword from Hemrod and stepping around the
other trainees. He moved slowly giving himself time to go over the plan in his head one last time.
Wordlessly he cast a sticking spell on the sword handle to make sure that Tyr couldn’t send his
borrowed sword flying and then readjusted his grip, so it was just like his dad had shown him. “So,
I just…try to disarm you?”

“You should attempt not to get your spine broken, you runt.” Baldur muttered as he walked away
from the ring.

“Yes.” Tyr said pretending he hadn’t heard Baldur’s words. “The point is to attempt to disarm me
in anyway you can but preferably with the techniques I just demonstrated.”

“Okay.” Harry said shifting his stance into nearly the same position he used in DA meetings. “I’ll
do my best.”

Tyr gave him a look that might have been encouraging at the beginning of the lesson but really
only looked menacing after Harry had seen him down 25 Asgardian teens like it was nothing.
Harry swallowed and lifted up his sword as Tyr counted down from three. Unlike Baldur Harry
didn’t immediately jump into action when Tyr finished counting. Instead he began to walk in a
slight circle to the left. Tyr lifted up an eyebrow surprised at what looked like hesitation from
Harry.

Tyr seemed to shrug without actually doing so and he made the first swing. He swung at Harry’s
midsection and Harry with all of the strength his quidditch trained legs could muster jumped up
into the air. He managed to clear the broad sword and fall right back down onto the flat part of the
blade. His boots skidded down the length of the blade as Tyr let the sword dip under the weight of
his body. Tyr’s eyes widened as Harry made a slight shocked noise at having landed on the sword
instead of on the other side of it.

Recovering quickly Harry sprung off of the still swinging blade and into the air to Tyr’s left. Using
his elbow, he reached out and hit the man in the side as he turned to face him. Tyr fell back a bit
but still swung at Harry, who dropped like a stone to the ground and rolled out of the way. This
fight wasn’t like the fight with the zombie creatures. Tyr wasn’t out to kill him, and Harry wasn’t
afraid for his life. This was similar to Remus teaching him dueling spells. Harry felt calm and level-
headed as he ducked and weaved around Tyr’s huge sword.

The trainees watched the fight in silence at first but quickly started cheering and shouting when it
became clear that Harry was lasting longer than any of them had. Harry stuck to Tyr’s left, moving
into weak spots and staying there until Tyr fixed that weak spot. Harry moved to yet another, a
systematic approach to not getting the snot beaten out of him.

Harry had been right about Tyr outclassing him in pretty much every way when it came to hand to
hand combat. Not that that meant he was going to give up. That wasn’t his style when he was
dealing with Dudley and his gang and it wouldn’t be his style in Asgard. Tyr managed to get Harry
into position within a few minutes and used his own sword to attempt to disarm Harry. His sticking
charm held even as his hand spasmed in it’s grip from the forced extension of his arm.

Harry was leaning back from the force of Tyr’s sword, his back nearly parallel with the ground and
his knees bent very uncomfortably. Harry used Tyr’s momentary shock to drop down and sweep
out Tyr’s legs out from under him, from the left to the right. Tyr stumbled back as Harry jumped up
and used the same move that Tyr had done sending Tyr’s huge broad sword tumbling to the
ground. Not very far, only mere inches from Tyr’s hands since it was so bloody huge but still, it
was on the ground.

The entire training yard was silent.

“I…” Harry said. “I don’t think I did that right did I? My form was off right?”

Luck. Harry knew that it was luck that had let him win. A combination of Tyr underestimating
him, his spell, and sheer dumb luck. Harry cursed himself for talking about his form being off even
though he’d won. Tyr blinked a few times before straightening up and speaking.

“You’ll need to practice if you don’t want to get your wrist broken.” He said. “But your form was
essentially correct for a first try.”

“Oh.” Harry said. “That’s…good right?”

“Good?” Hemrod shouted. “That was brilliant!”

The other trainees started cheering as Tyr picked up his sword and Harry stepped back to give the
man room. When the trainees quieted down Tyr looked Harry up and down.

“You’ve got combat experience.”

“Uhm…yeah a little. Not much with a sword, not used to using something this heavy.” Tyr glanced
at his thin arms with something like half-suppressed amusement sparkling in his eyes.

“You should have said you had experience in fighting. I would’ve given you an actual challenge.”

“That wasn’t the challenge?” Harry asked stupidly.

Which is how Harry found himself flat on his back within three seconds with Tyr grinning down at
him. Harry grinned right back and took the hand Tyr offered him and also weathered the heavy
handed pat on the back.

Training continued with everyone trying out the disarming technique on other trainees with some
actual success. Harry gave Hemrod’s sword back to him and they switched off back and forth
whenever one of them was called up. All of the other trainees were giving Harry very awed looks.
Like the ones Colin used to give him when he was younger and desperate to take pictures of Harry.
Except this was different because these people had no idea who he was and were only awed
because of something he’d actually done.

It was rather nice all things considered.

Training ended after four hours and Harry felt very sore and hungry. Thankfully all of the other
trainees felt the same as they all led him back to the feasting hall where they had a very filling late
lunch. Hemrod and the other boys were gushing about how great Harry was and why hadn’t he
told them he already had fighting experience? Harry did his best to stutter through an answer that
didn’t have to do with him being a demi-god and child of prophesy.

The boys seemed to buy it even if Baldur was glaring at him very fiercely.

“Uhm…Hemrod?” Harry asked. “Since I’m new here, my dad suggested I go explore the city.
Maybe buy some souvenirs? Would you mind showing me around?”

“You’re from one of the colonies right? That’s must have been where you got your experience
from, fighting bandits and pirates.” Harry didn’t deny it and Hemrod wouldn’t have heard him
even if he had. “Course me and the others’ll show you around. We’ll take you to the best spots!”

And that was what they did. All of the trainees, except Baldur, took Harry out of the palace and
into the city proper. So this is what being popular was like. Not popular because of a thing that
happened to you when you were a baby, but just the normal sort of popular. The sort of popular
that came with quidditch wins and funny stories. Harry decided he really liked it and threw himself
fully into the persona he’d accidentally created.

He, with the money his dad had gifted him, found a bunch of gifts for each of his friends. The other
trainees had excellent suggestions when he told them about his friends and what they liked. He
also bought a bunch of sweets, enough for everyone, whenever they passed something that smelled
delicious. They all wanted to know about his colony and so without telling them any names he
talked about Hogwarts and his friends.

He even told them about quidditch.

The trainees were absolutely fascinated by quidditch, especially the bludgers. Harry described the
game in great detail and then when asked started telling stories about the games he’d played back
home. By the time they got back to the castle all of the trainees were practically squealing with
excitement about the idea of a game you played 50 feet in the air with balls enchanted to try and
throw you to the ground.

He managed to free himself from the others when they got back to the palace saying he had to go
find his dad to tell him about his first day of training. So Harry, carrying a leather bag filled with
asgardian trinkets, made his way through the palace until he found the door to the library. (He
might have cheated with a spell or two.)

The entire walk Harry felt buoyant. He had had an absolutely perfect day. He’d gotten to sleep in
after a night free of terrors and visions. He’d been free to wander around and had ended up learning
some new sword tricks and making some great new friends who were mad about quidditch. He’d
tried new Asgardian foods in the city and gotten to buy a bunch of fun things for his friends. No
one had attacked him or treated him poorly. Even the merchants they visited treated him and the
loud trainees with amusement instead of disdain. He’d been safe and happy for the whole day. The
weather had even cooperated giving him a bright blue sky and warm sunlight.

Harry felt happy and bubbly and…he didn’t know if he had ever felt like this before in his whole
life. Even good days at Hogwarts had always been tainted by something or other. Draco Malfoy or
Voldemort or whoever the Defense Teacher was that year. A constant sense of foreboding had
filled Harry ever since Hagrid had told him about his parents’ murder. Even before that Harry
knew to always keep an eye out for trouble.

But in Asgard it was different. Things were safe, there was no danger lurking around the corner.
Just friendly trainees and talented teachers and delicious food and warm weather. Harry wondered
if he was glowing, he felt so happy he must’ve been. When Harry got to the library he pushed open
the door already bubbling to tell his dad and Sirius all about how amazing the day had been. The
door swung open quietly to reveal Sirius and his dad hunched over books. Sirius still looked a bit
haggard and his dad looked stressed as he read from four books at once.

Harry’s perfect day shattered around him as he looked at his dad and godfather. He remembered
the war and the prophecy. With perfect clarity he recalled what he had left and what he would be
returning too. Something cracked in his chest. He could go up and tell his dad how wonderful the
day had been, he could beg to stay a few more days, or weeks, or the rest of the summer. Maybe
even stay for the rest of the year. His dad would let him too, his dad would probably be happy
because Harry was happy.

And Harry knew without a doubt he would be happy here. Happy and safe and…at peace.

But he couldn’t.

Not when Ron, Hermione and Remus and everyone else was still there on earth. Not when
Voldemort still haunted the world. Harry couldn’t and wouldn’t leave anyone else to die or suffer.
Not even if it meant never coming back here, never being truly safe again, never knowing this
simple happiness.

“Starlight?” His dad asked looking up from his book. “We wondered when you’d show up. Did
you have a good day?”

Harry blinked, once, twice and then a third time.

“It was fine.” Harry said shrugging. “A little boring. When are we going back home?”

“After dinner with Odin.” Sirius said looking at Harry. “Was the city really that bad? It looked
pretty neat.”

“I found some cool stuff but honestly it’s not worth the time.” Harry lied.

“Hmm.” His dad said. “I’m sorry I couldn’t take you out and show you some of the more
interesting sites, Starlight.”

“It’s whatever.” Harry said. “What books are you looking at?”

Harry walked over to his dad and listened as he started talking about dark magic and painful spells
that could have caused his connection to Voldemort. Harry did his best to forget what he’d done
that day. That life, the life of a carefree kid, wasn’t his life.

And that was fine.

Just fine.
 Thor's New Rival
Chapter Summary

Thor's nephew and brother have been missing for over two days and he is in full panic
mode. He needs to find them now!

Chapter Notes

Hey everyone! Thanks for the amazing comments! I didn't respond to some of them as
I've been busy but I really appreciated them!
Next week's update is going to be late. I'm flying out for a NASA Volcanology
Workshop tomorrow and I'll be busy and without reliable access to the internet for the
next 8 days. I'll be way too busy learning about volcanoes to write or edit anything.
That being said, since I have no idea when I will be updating Follow me on Twitter if
you want to know more!
I'm serious, if you're anxious to know when I'm updating, just go there. It's the best
place for it.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Thor’s brother was missing.

Even worse, his nephew was also missing.

Two days! It had been over two days since Thor and Loki had returned from their trip to The
Burrow and it had been two days since Loki had shoved Harry into some armor and teleported the
two of them away to places unknown.

Thor didn’t want to admit he was panicking but he was totally panicking.

At first Thor had been certain that Loki had just gone to London. Loki and Harry had to still be on
earth. Loki’s punishment from Odin forbade Loki from leaving the planet. Loki would come back
with his son, both of them still uninjured, and perhaps with a new friend, Sirius Black. It was all
going to be just fine. They’d come back within a day with a new story to tell and Thor would scold
them for not inviting him.

They didn’t come back.

By day two Thor was in full on panic mode. Despite his team telling him that they were sure
everything was okay, even if Tony couldn’t find anything, Thor knew something was wrong. Thor
was loathe to go to Asgard to ask for help because if Loki had left the planet then that would put
him in trouble. But at the same time? What if Loki was dying? What if Harry was dying? Thor
only hoped Loki would forgive him.

Thor went to the roof and he called for the Bifrost before anyone could stop him. If Loki and Harry
were in danger, then time was of the essence. The beam of rainbow light slammed down onto the
roofing and Thor found himself flying up into its blinding light. He gripped his hammer tightly and
prepared for battle. First he had to convince Hiemdall to help him without telling his father and
then he had to go rescue his baby brother and his nephew from whatever trouble they’d landed
themselves.

Thor skidded to a stop inside the Bifrost chamber.

“Hiemdall. I need a favor.”

“You are here to ask me about the location of your nephew and Prince Loki.” Hiemdall said.

“Yes. Please don’t tell my father about this. I am sure that Loki didn’t mean to break his parole.”

“Don’t worry. Odin is already aware of Haraldr and Loki. They’ve been in Asgard since
yesterday.”

“Since yesterday?”

“Yes. They arrived in Frigga’s sitting room covered in blood along with a human.” Hiemdall said.
“Odin has since made them welcome.”

Thor nearly collapsed in relief.

“Even Harry?”

“Especially Harry. I do not think the All-Mother would have allowed anything else.”

“Oh thank the norns.” Thor breathed. “I have been so worried. Thank you Hiemdall for telling me
such excellent news.”

“Of course.” Hiemdall said a slight smile on his face. “If you are looking for more I would suggest
going to the training yards.”

“The training yards?” Thor asked, Hiemdall nodded his golden eyes sparkling. “Very well, then
that is where I will go. Wait, before I go…how are Loki and my father…getting on?”

“About as well as you’d expect.”

Thor grimaced and then gave Hiemdall another nod of thanks. Perhaps it was too much to ask that
Odin and Loki could work out their differences but Thor had still been hopeful. Thor hefted his
hammer and flew out of the golden domed building and towards the palace. Asgard looked as
perfect as it ever did. The evening sun illuminated the entire floating city in warmth, the golden
and silver spires of his home gleamed in welcome. Below him he could see the citizens going
about their business, laughing and eating their dinner in the warm evening air.

Knowing now that his brother and nephew were safe made it so much easier for Thor to smile and
wave at the Aesir he flew past. Some of them looked up as he flew and cheered up at him and Thor
beamed. He loved earth and all of its wonders but there was nothing quite like home. He hoped
Harry had had fun in Asgard. Perhaps he’d even had the chance to see the city. If he hadn’t then
Thor would insist that they take Harry on a tour before going back to earth.

Thor angled the hammer a bit better and moved towards the training yards. He looked around
trying to spot either his brother or his nephew but couldn’t find either of them. He did however spot
his old trainer Tyr. Tyr noticed him of course and waved his sword up in greeting. Thor landed
right next to the man and slapped Tyr’s back in hello.
“Prince Thor.”

“Lord Tyr! It’s been far too long.”

“I have my duties to the newest recruits, I haven’t had the time for feasting lately.” Tyr pointed out.
“Besides you have been on Midgard haven’t you?”

“Yes. My work there keeps me busy, but I’m here now!” Thor said excitedly. “Tell me, how is the
newest batch? I’ve heard from my mother that Baldur began his training with you, right? With all
of his father’s boasts I’m sure Baldur exceeds expectations.”

Tyr had been the man who had taught Thor how to weild a sword. He had been the man who had
trained with his hammer. Tyr had been training every man and the few women who wished to be a
part of Asgard’s army for a very long time indeed. Thor didn’t honestly think there was a common
man more respected among the people. Everyone knew him as their favorite teacher, as a beloved
mentor. And Tyr took it all in stride, producing the greatest warriors and gods every century like it
was his norns given duty.

“Baldur.” Tyr said. “He’s stubborn certainly, too stubborn to listen, too sure of himself.”

Thor grimaced, he could tell that wasn’t a complement because it was the same way Tyr had
described Thor all those centuries ago. Tyr grinned and punched Thor’s arm as he remembered the
same exact thing.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Thor. I was able to wear you down eventually.”

“Aye that you were.” Thor agreed.

“Baldur will be a fine warrior by the time I’m done with him. His biggest weakness is his pride,
something his father gave him no doubt.” Tyr said. “There’s actually a new trainee that I’m very
interested in. It’s been centuries since I even considered taking on an apprentice but this boy truly
impressed me today.”

Thor’s jaw dropped a little. Tyr never took on apprentices. It just wasn’t done. No one met the
man’s impossibly high standards for what an apprentice should be. Tyr considered all the young
trainees too immature to handle the rigor of a personal apprenticeship with him. That didn’t stop
everyone from wanting to be his apprentice. Tyr was so well connected and respected amongst the
realms that any apprentice of his would have their pick of future jobs and opportunities. Only an
apprenticeship from someone like Thor’s parents would be considered more desirable.

“Really?” Thor asked.

“Yes, truly.” Tyr said. “It was the boy’s first day, he was late and didn’t even have a weapon on
him. Normally that sort of incompetence would have me making a lesson out of the boy for the rest
of them but the boy was also ridiculously small.”

“Small?”

“Tiniest Asgardian I’ve ever seen. Arms as thin as sticks, shorter than any of his peers.” Tyr said.
“It was almost comical the way his hair stuck out everywhere, made him look like a mop.”

Something in Thor’s mind shifted around but he knocked the suspicion away and focused on his
old friend. Tyr was leaning on the hilt of his broad sword, the weapon’s tip slightly buried in the
ground.
“He doesn’t sound very impressive.”

“See that’s what I thought!” Tyr said. “But then this boy was just…he was perfect Thor. He
listened for my entire lecture and I could just tell he was paying attention, trying to actually learn
what I was showing. I’ve never seen a trainee that young sit still for that long. Most of them start
roughhousing immediately and you know how I hate that.”

“So he sat still.”

“He disarmed me, Thor!” Tyr said his voice nearly gleeful. “The boy went last, and borrowed
another trainees sword. Of course I was going easy on him since he was so damn small I thought a
stiff breeze would snap him in half but the boy was smart. At the beginning he literally jumped
onto my sword to avoid getting chopped and then after that he kept finding new openings to keep
from getting hit. Day 1 and the boy actually succeeded! I’ve never seen the like!”

Tyr continued to expound on the boy’s skill. His agility, his fasting thinking, and his
determination. Tyr was apparently enamored with the trainee and had just been waiting on pins and
needles to tell anyone about him. Thor himself was rather shocked, it had taken Thor a full decade
of training before he managed to disarm Tyr in training. It wasn’t a common thing. Thor was pretty
sure that if they were to spar now, it would be a very difficult fight to win.

“What’s this young man’s name?” Thor found himself asking. “Where is he from?”

“Haraldr. I haven’t gotten his information yet from the palace but I’m sure it’ll be coming in
tomorrow.”

Haraldr. That was Harry’s name, his Asgardian name. The nebulous suspicions that had been
floating around Thor’s brain finally solidified and slammed into him. His nephew had somehow
managed to sneak into training and in one day impressed THE Tyr in a way no trainee had in
literally millennia. A huge smiled broke out on his face, he was literally brimming with pride.

Of course, his nephew would be worthy to be Tyr’s apprentice! Hadn’t Thor seen his fight against
Amora? Tyr continued to talk about how it was obvious the boy had very little skill with weapons
but that was something that could be learnt.

“Mark my words Thor. That boy has the potential to the greatest warrior Asgard has ever seen!”

“Oh don’t worry, Tyr. I believe you.” Thor said.

His mind raced with plans. Harry could be come Tyr’s apprentice, even if only for a short time. No
one could teach him how to fight better than Tyr. Besides there was no place safer than Asgard.
Harry could rest and recuperate here, free of worry or strife. The prophecy would keep, the war
would keep, until Harry was truly ready to fight it wouldn’t it? Maybe the power the Dark Lord
knew not was Harry’s skill with a sword!

Thor and Loki could stay in Asgard too, Loki could teach Harry more magic and Thor could help
with training on Mjolnir. Within a few years Harry would be strong and skilled and ready to face
whatever dangers this Voldemort could pose. That’s exactly how it should be. Yes, Thor could see
it now. Harry strong and well fed, glowing in the Asgardian sun a sword in one hand and his magic
glowing in the other. Harry would be brilliant and happy and Thor couldn’t wait to see it happen.

It was perfect!

“Thank you, Tyr. You’ve given me some wonderful news. I must go speak to my father now.”
“About the boy?”

“Of course, about the boy! Thank you again Tyr! Truly!” Thor rushed off leaving a slightly
confused Tyr behind.

There was so much to do! He had to go find Loki and tell Loki all about what Tyr had said, then he
had to explain his idea to his father and get it approved. Then he could present the opportunity to
Harry, he was sure his nephew would jump at the chance. He could live here in Asgard, in safety
and in luxury and learn how to be the hero the world needed.

Thor rushed through the palace a huge beaming grin on his face. Outside the palace a brisk breeze
had picked up in response to Thor’s absolutely stupendously good mood. His family was all safe
and Harry was the most wonderful, talented nephew a man could ask for. He decided to check for
Loki in the library first, surely his brother was there doing some sort of research. Thor burst into
the library and beamed when he saw Loki, Harry and another human all gathered around a table.

“Loki!” Thor boomed. “Harry! I’ve been so worried about you two!”

“Thor?” Harry asked turning around from the table. Thor resisted the urge to pull the boy into a
hug knowing that he didn’t like being touched without permission. Instead he smiled as loudly as
he could.

“Yes! You two disappeared days ago and I was afraid something had happened!”

“We’re fine.” Loki said. “Honestly Thor, I wasn’t even gone three days.”

“That’s way too long now that I know there’s some sort of Dark Lord on earth! You should have
taken me along with you!”

“We were fine.” Loki said easily. “Isn’t that right, Starlight?”

“Oh yeah.” Harry said. “Totally fine dad. We didn’t almost get eaten by zombie fog creatures or
anything.”

“Zombie fog creatures?”

“You know.” Said the unknown human. “We should really come up with a name for those things.
Maybe Rancers? They smelt rancid enough.”

“Draugrs.” Loki said. “We should call them Draugrs. They’re as close to a real Draugr as I’ve ever
seen. Wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what they actually were come to think of it.”

“You fought Draugrs?” Thor asked, his voice cracking on the word.

“We did.” Loki said.

“I can’t believe this!” Thor said. “This is terrible news!”

“Okay I’m lost now.” The human said.

“Me too.”

“He’s just upset that he didn’t get to come.” Loki said. “Come on Thor. It’s not like I knew there’d
be Draugrs there. I swear if I’d known I would’ve invited you.”

Thor was partly appeased. Fighting a Draugr would have been a fantastic adventure. Loki would
never had kept him from something that dangerous, especially if he was willingly bringing his son
along.

“Fine.” Thor said trying to stop the pout that was attempting to form on his face.

“So, you’re Thor. James’ adopted brother right?” The human asked motioning towards Loki. Thor
nodded and the guy smiled. “Cool, I’m Sirius Black, I’m James’…”

“He’s my shield brother.” Loki cut in. “Harry and I left earth to go rescue him from the draugrs.
We couldn’t wait as we didn’t know if he was injured or not.”

Thor looked at Sirius in a new light. Even if the man looked slightly sickly there was no doubt that
the man was worthy of respect if Loki was willing to call him a shield brother.

“It is an honor to meet you.” Thor said. “And Loki I understand why you left I am just surprised
that father didn’t grow angry with you for leaving Earth.”

“Oh don’t worry about Odin.” Sirius said. “Harry took care of that.”

Thor looked curiously at his nephew who now had a slight blush on his cheeks.

“It’s not that big a deal…”

“You got Odin All-Father to back down.” Sirius said. “The guy’s practically docile when you’re in
the room.”

“You’re…” Harry said before turning to look at Thor’s shocked face. “Sirius is exaggerating. I
didn’t do anything to Odin.”

“I’ve certainly never seen him act like that.”

“Dad.”

“It appears that I’ve missed a lot.” Thor said. “Brother would you mind catching me up?”

And thankfully Loki did.

Apparently, there was a highly dangerous tear between Midgard and another unknown planet that
likely housed real draugrs inside of it. Loki and Harry had gone through the tear to rescue Sirius
and managed to find him in the dense fog of the world using magic. Sirius added in there that he
punched Loki in face upon first seeing him making both Harry and Sirius giggle while Loki waited
in long suffering silence.

Sirius and Loki then described the fight with the draugrs while Harry kept insisting that the
amazing fight wasn’t that big of a deal. Even though it definitely was. Thor couldn’t believe his
nephew was trying to be humble about it! There wasn’t any warrior in all of Asgard that wouldn’t
leap at the chance to fight against such beasts. Loki finished the fight by describing how in his
stress to get them the hell out of there, he accidentally opened a portal, not to Midgard but to
Asgard.

Harry took the story up there describing his first introduction to his grandmother as
‘overwhelming’. It appeared that his beloved mother had gone into full Mother Hen mode and had
come off a bit too strong for his nephew. Thor decided he’d talk to his mother about what he knew
so that she didn’t make Harry any more uncomfortable. It was their job to be better for Harry so
that he could be happy with them, despite his past.
Sirius then described the tense scene in the courtroom while Harry blushed and mumbled about the
fact that it wasn’t that bad. Yes, Harry admitted, he had called the most politically powerful man in
the universe a bag of dicks but really Sirius was being dramatic about it. Thor literally couldn’t
even imagine the exchange in his mind because every time he tried he just saw his father going into
a rage and trying to chop off Harry’s head for his disrespect.

Apparently, that isn’t what happened. Odin took Harry to his private office and they had a
conversation. Harry was very vague about what exactly that conversation was but insisted that the
important part was that Odin had agreed to lend support for their fight against Tom Riddle. Thor
desperately wished Harry would give more details about how he managed to evade Odin’s ire but
Harry was tight lipped about the situation.

“So you stayed the night.” Thor said.

“I was really tired, we were going come back to earth after dinner today.” Harry said.

“It looks like you came all the way here for nothing.” Loki said.

“Oh not nothing.” Sirius said. “I mean at least it’s a chance for me to size up the competition.
Honestly, James I’m feeling pretty good about my odds.”

“Competition?” Thor asked.

“Yeah obviously. For best adopted brother.” Sirius said. “James’ parents adopted me when I was a
teenager making me just as much James’ brother as you are.”

Thor was about to deny that there was even going to be a competition at all because it was obvious
that Thor was the favorite but he saw the look of sheer fondness in Loki’s eyes and reconsidered.
Odin he’d never had to compete to be Loki’s favorite sibling before. Some of his dismay must have
shown on his face because Harry lightly patted his arm.

“Don’t worry, you might still win best uncle.”

“Oh no, pup. I’m winning that one too.”

Now that was just unfair! Thor wasn’t going to lose both best brother and best uncle competitions.
No way!

“I look forward to the challenge.” Thor said narrowing his eyes at the human. Sirius wiggled his
eyebrows right back, making Loki snort and Harry hide a smile behind his hand. Damn.

“We should go to dinner.” Loki said. “I’ve got the books I need now to solve this scar problem and
I doubt I can get away with keeping Odin waiting any longer.”

“Odin’s waiting for us?” Harry asked.

“Yes we were supposed to be at dinner over thirty minutes ago.”

“What?” Thor boomed. “Come on brother, we have to go now! What were you thinking?”

Thor started pulling Loki out of his chair and ushering everyone out of the library. He couldn’t
believe this! Just because father had, quite miraculously, forgiven Harry for his disrespect the other
day didn’t mean he’d do it a second time!

“I was thinking that I didn’t want to go.”

“Honestly.” Thor complained. “Father wouldn’t have planned the dinner if it wasn’t important.”

“Yeah yeah yeah.” Sirius said. “Give it a rest. We were just having a bit of fun!”

Thor had the vaguely horrified feeling that he had somehow become the uncool older brother
overnight.

“Yeah Thor.” Loki said. “Just some fun, a tiny bit of mischief.”

“Microscopic!” Sirius agreed.

How had this happened so quickly? When had Thor become…lame?

“You’re freaking out over nothing.” Harry promised him. “Odin won’t mind once we explain, I’m
sure.”

Great! Not only was he lame he was also so anxious the child in the group felt like he had to
comfort him. Good job Thor. They left the library and got to the private royal dining room. His
parents were already there, sitting in front of a full table and looking rather cross for having been
kept waiting. Thor prepared for one of Odin’s signature rants about being courteous princes when
Harry spoke.

“Sorry All-Father. We got caught up in the library and then Thor showed up and we had to tell him
what happened since we sort of left earth without much warning.” Harry said. “I didn’t mean to be
late.”

To Thor’s eternal surprise Odin’s upset literally melted away to be replaced by an expression that
had never once been seen on Odin’s face before.

“It’s fine. Just try not to let it happen again.”

“Course.” Harry said brightly. “You mind if we start eating now? I’m sort of hungry.”

Odin insisted that they all sit, ignoring the set way these private dinners had gone for centuries, and
eat. Normally Odin would have these dinners as a way to take Thor and Loki to task for whatever it
was that they’d done that week. Which meant sitting in front of well made food and not being able
to eat until Odin had said his piece. This time Harry just sat down and started serving himself while
asking Odin what he’d done that day.

Like a family.

A normal family dinner.

Thor looked over at Loki who gave him a very helpless confused look to match Thor’s own. Thor
sat down and started to eat. What else was he supposed to do? On one side was his mother who
looked very pleased and on the other was Sirius, who also looked pleased but for very different
reasons. Mainly, Thor supposed, the fact that Thor had wanted to sit next to Loki but Loki had
chosen to sit next to Sirius instead.

Damn.

Dinner was a bizarre event. Bizarre because anytime an argument would erupt from Odin or Loki,
Harry would quell it with merely a look. Frigga spent most of the dinner staring at her only
grandson with adoration in her eyes. Sirius kept saying things to Loki that would make Loki grin
while remembering something which made Thor seethe with jealousy. It didn’t help that most of
the stories Sirius told were quite funny and made Harry laugh in delight as he learnt more about his
parents. Thor couldn’t in good conscience interrupt.

When they had desert, Thor remembered Tyr and Harry’s brilliant day of training. He opened his
mouth and began to say that he’d run into Tyr when he’d arrived but then he felt someone kick him
from under the table. He coughed in shock and looked over at Harry who was giving him a death
glare. Thor reached for his goblet and drank a huge gulp to cover up the shocked coughing.

“And how is Tyr, dear?” Frigga asked as Thor cleared his throat again.

“He is well. The new recruits are working hard.” Thor said. “He thinks there is a lot of promise in
them.”

“Of course, there is.” Odin said. “They’re men of Asgard, they could be nothing but great.”

Which is how Thor ended up talking about Tyr’s opinion about Baldur while wondering why
Harry hadn’t wanted him to talk about his own great achievements. There was no doubt in Thor’s
mind that Odin and Frigga wouldn’t be anything but proud of Harry. Loki would also love the
opportunity to ooze smug pride over his son’s talent. It didn’t make any sense.

Thor got the opportunity to ask when the dinner ended. It ended smoothly with Harry saying that
they needed to head back to earth to prepare for the fight against Voldemort. Odin, in yet another
out of character action, merely nodded and told them that they were welcome to visit at any time,
for any reason. They all stood to leave when Odin spoke again.

“Loki, might I speak with you, in private for a moment?”

Loki’s jaw clenched for a moment before he sighed.

“Oh yes fine.”

“Don’t worry James.” Sirius whispered. “I’ll go get our stuff and we’ll be ready to run the moment
you step outside.”

“Thank you Padfoot.” He whispered.

So, they all left the private dining room except for Odin and Loki. Frigga gave Thor a hug and a
kiss on the cheek and then did the same to Harry despite his awkward look. She also hugged Sirius
who took that with much more grace.

“Thank you for helping to keep the peace.” She said. “Now I must go, I have some visions I must
weave.”

“I’m gonna go too.” Sirius said. “I’ll get the books we need and everything else. Pup are you cool
staying here for your dad?”

“Me and Thor can handle it.”

And that was that. Once they were finally alone, Thor turned to his nephew. Harry didn’t even
bother to pretend to be confused about why Thor was giving him a look.

“Don’t tell anyone about the Tyr stuff. Please.” He begged.

“You have nothing to be ashamed of. I’ve never seen Tyr be that impressed with anyone, not even
your father and I did half as well as you did today.”
“I’m not ashamed. I just don’t want anyone to know.”

“How is that not being ashamed?”

“Thor, Please. You can’t tell anyone, especially not my dad. If dad asks you’ve got to tell him that I
thought Asgard was boring. Please.”

“Why are you asking me to lie to Loki? Harry I don’t like doing that, he deserves the truth.
Especially since this is such good news. Tyr wants to make you his apprentice! That’s a great
honor, your father would be so happy to know you’re so talented.”

“It’s not good news Thor!” Harry denied his voice cracking a little. “It’s awful.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I can’t stay here Thor. I can’t…It’s not right.” He said. “Don’t you see, Asgard’s everything and I
can’t have it! I can’t spend my mornings learning how to swing a sword and then my afternoons
having fun without people who don’t think I’m weird or anything. I don’t get to be popular and be
safe. It’s not…I’m not ever going to have that.”

“But you could!” Thor argued. “All you’d have to do is ask. You could stay for as long as you
wanted, learning about anything you’d like. In a few years you’d be a great swordsman!”

“A few years! I can’t even stay for a few days Thor!” Harry snapped. “Think about it! Every hour,
every minute I spend away from earth is another minute that Tom Riddle is going to go around and
kill innocent people.”

“It’s not your responsibility to…”

“It is! It is my responsibility! It’s not anyone else’s! No one but me can kill him and if I stay here
just so that I can…can be normal and have fun then that’s selfish isn’t it? Since when is me being
happy more important than the entire world? It’s not Thor. It’s just not. You can’t say it is because
it’s a lie. I’m just one person and everyday Riddle hurts hundreds of people, thousands even…I
can’t stay here.”

Thor’s heart felt like it was breaking a little at the sheer desolation in Harry’s voice. Harry was
leaning against the wall, slowly sinking down so that he was sitting on the floor, his head bowed
between his knees. Thor settled down next to him. He didn’t know what to say. What was there to
say? Harry was sacrificing safety, a promise of happiness, for a world that had been so cruel to him.
Harry was being more heroic than Thor had ever been and something in him hurt.

“But surely there’s no harm in telling Loki about your skill?” Thor asked.

“No harm?” He asked. “Tell me. How do you think dad would react if I told him I loved it here?
That I loved learning how to fight, that I loved spending time with the trainees. That I can’t
remember ever being happier because even though I’m far away from my best friends I almost
don’t care because I’m safe here?”

Thor tried to imagine it. Thor telling Loki how brilliant his son was, and how much his son loved
Asgard. Loki’s smiling face as he cooed about how talented his son was, talking about how good a
safe, warm place would be for Harry. Then he imagined telling Loki that they couldn’t stay.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Harry said. “Now you get it. I can’t let dad know. I can’t. Even if I have to lie to him.”
 “I understand.” Thor said placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder and giving it a comforting squeeze.
Harry shuddered a little under his grip but then tilted slightly to the side to lean against Thor’s
body.

“I’m just…It was a really good day Thor.”

“I imagine so.”

“And it’s not fair.” Harry said slamming his fist against the marble floor. A circle of cracks
appeared in the stone from the force of it.

“No. No it isn’t.”

“I hate that it was so good. Because I didn’t know before and now, I do and it…it hurts.”

The sun was setting completely over Asgard and on the roof of the palace Thor could hear drops of
rain. The sky crying for Thor when he couldn’t. Thor kept back the brunt of the huge storm he
wanted to create. Now wasn’t the time. He didn’t know what to say. He wished that he could make
it better but there was nothing to do. This was Harry’s choice. He took in a deep breath and spoke.

“You’ll return to Asgard Harry, one day.” Thor promised his voice thick. “This war won’t last
forever and when it’s over you’ll be able to come back here. Things change slowly in this realm,
it’ll be the same here I promise. Once it’s all over you can come back and rest for as long as you’d
like. You can even bring your friends.”

“That…that sounds nice.” Harry said before rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.

In that moment Thor swore to himself that he’d do everything in his power to make that promise
real. He didn’t care what it cost. Harry would get to have days like the one he’d had today for as
long as he wanted. They sat there for a while in silence the two of them both wondered how long it
would be until they’d be back here. Thor had no idea how long it would take to win a magic war
and fulfill that prophecy but he knew he’d be by his nephew’s side every step of the way.

The door to the private room opened and Harry scrambled up, at the same time Sirius turned
around the corner with a bag over his shoulder filled with books. Thor got up slowly as Loki
stepped out of the room. Loki’s face was white and his jaw was tight.

“Let’s go home.” Loki said.

“Yeah dad.” Harry said easily pretending like he was eager to leave Asgard. “I’m ready to go back
where I belong.”

Chapter End Notes

Remember! No update next wednesday! I'll be in Hawaii getting my legs cut up by

sharp lava rock!
Follow me on Twitter if you want to know when I'm updating next!
 Loki Really Should Stop Making Plans
Chapter Summary

Remus punches Loki in the face and Thor calls Loki an idiot. A normal day really.

Chapter Notes

It's alright everyone! I'm back. I'm alive! It's all good. We should be having regular
updates for the rest of the summer unless something unplanned comes up.
Thanks for the great comments I enjoyed reading everyone of them!
Have fun with this update!

Remus punched him in the face.

Not once, not twice, but thrice.

And it was closer to the full moon that Loki would’ve liked based on the strength in Remus’ limbs.
Remus would’ve gone for a fourth and a fifth if Harry hadn’t come to his rescue and pulled Remus
away. He wondered where Sirius and Thor were.

This was not necessarily the welcome he’d wanted from Remus but it was certainly the one he’d
expected. Thor helped him up off the ground while Sirius and Harry explained things to Remus.
Remus was staring at Sirius in disbelief, joy shining out of his golden brown eyes. Loki healed his
two rapidly bruising eyes and his rebroken nose, hoping against hope that it wasn’t going to be
permanently deformed from all the strain it’d been put under the last week.

Thor accurately read his look and gave his shoulder a pat.

“You’re just as handsome as always.”

“Why didn’t you stop him?” Loki asked. “Are you my brother or aren’t you?”

“Of course I’m your brother.” Thor said. “But that human looked a bit…feral.”

“Don’t make those jokes where he can hear you.” Loki warned. “Remus has an ability much like
Banner’s.”

“Ah.” Thor said as he looked back over at the group. “It looks as if this will take some time.”

“It’s quite a story to tell.” There’s a faraway look in Thor’s eyes, something was troubling the man.
“Are you alright?”

“I had a conversation with Harry.” Thor said. “And its contents…disturbed me. I’m afraid I
promised him I would not tell you more than that and I wish to keep my word. I don’t want you to
feel as if I’m purposefully hiding things.”
“Is it dangerous?” Loki asked, his eyebrows furrowing together in concern.

“Not really.” Thor said. “Harry is in no more danger than he was yesterday or the day before.”

Loki sighed at that. It hurt something in him to know that his son lived such a dangerous life. Loki
often had to fight back the urge just to scoop the boy up into his arms and hold him to his chest in
same way he did when the boy was small. He decided he wouldn’t push Thor any further. He
appreciated that Thor told him something at all and understood why Thor wasn’t telling him
everything.

“Thor.” Loki said. “Can you keep a secret?”

“Did I not just show that I’m capable of that?”

“Will you then?” Thor rolled his eyes.

“Yes. What is it?”

“I wanted Harry to like Asgard.”

“What?”

“You mustn’t tell him. I don’t want him to feel as if he’s disappointed me.”

“Why would you want him to like Asgard? You hate it there!”

“That’s true but…It’s safe isn’t it?” Loki asked. “No one poses any threat to him there. He could
have wandered the city freely, perhaps made some friends. I would’ve dealt with a thousand
awkward conversations with Odin if it meant Harry could have had some peace.”

His last conversation with Odin had been…less than stellar. If it hadn’t been for Sirius immediately
distracting him after he left that room, Loki probably would’ve tried to break something just to
relieve the tension. Thor was staring at Loki like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“And you saw how Odin treated Harry!” Loki pointed out. “I don’t understand why he’s doing it
but having Odin on our side would’ve only made Harry’s time in Asgard smoother, if he’d wanted
that. It was Sirius’ idea actually, to give Harry the day to wander Asgard and test the waters. We’d
both hoped that he’d come back to us brimming with excitement but he just…seemed disinterested.
I shouldn’t be surprised, Asgard isn’t much like Hogwarts and it doesn’t have his friends in it.”

Thor looks like he was recently punched in the gut and was trying very hard to hide it. Loki
supposed it would be surprising to hear him admit that he was willing to endure Odin of all people
for any reason at all.

“Did you not think to tell Harry about this?”

“I told you. I don’t want him to feel like he has to be one way or another.” Loki said. “If I told him
that while I hate Odin and don’t want anything to do with him, I would willingly endure him if
Harry liked Asgard enough to stay for the rest of the summer. Harry would feel torn wouldn’t he?
Because he wouldn’t want to ask me to suffer for him. I wanted Harry to decide for himself what
he liked without taking my emotions into it at all.”

“I can’t believe this.” Thor said.

“Oh shut up. I’m capable of empathy and kindness.”

“That’s not it! Loki, in what world would that boy not take into account your feelings?”

“I…what are you talking about Thor?”

“I can’t believe this. You’re both so…” Thor made a frustrated noise then and actually ran a hand
through his hair messing up the perfectly styled locks. “Please tell me Lily had common sense.
Please tell me your wife was intelligent.”

“What? Of course Lily was smart. Why are you bringing her up?”

“Because you’re-! Loki, Harry loved Asgard!” Loki blinked stupidly at his brother for a moment.
The others hadn’t noticed what they were talking about yet and Loki quickly cast a spell to ensure
that they wouldn’t.

“Harry told me it was boring.”

“Because he didn’t want to hurt your feelings!” Thor said. “Harry believes he couldn’t stay in
Asgard because of the prophecy. And he thought if he told you that he had a great day and that he
enjoyed being safe for once in his life that you’d feel bad. So maybe! Next time you decide to
come up with a plan for your son you don’t and you tell him what you want instead!”

“Don’t put this on me! He’s the one who lied!”

“He’s the boy who’d just experienced what a normal day should be for the first time in his life!”
Thor said. “You purposefully engineered a situation where Harry could experience a good day,
safe and free from violence while knowing that he would be unable to continue to have days like
that! What was your plan brother? To let him have five good days? Ten? A month’s worth? He
wasn’t going to be able to stay forever.”

Loki’s mind raced and he was coming to about fifty different and equally upsetting conclusions
about the faults in his and Sirius’ plan. Harry was honest and loyal. He felt a duty to his friends and
to earth because of the prophecy. Harry would’ve never, ever agreed to stay in Asgard long, no
matter how nice, because of Voldemort’s influence. He was just like his mother, the woman who
had denied herself a real wedding party because she felt she had a responsibility to the Order and
wouldn’t want to waste their time on something frivolous.

And now Loki had dangled something in front of his son that he would truly want but ultimately
decide to deny himself because he was too selfless and good. Loki hadn’t even thought to explain
himself. To tell Harry that he could stay in Asgard for the rest of the summer, that Loki would
make sure his friends and loved ones were safe while Harry recovered and learnt how to control his
strength and magic amongst a people who could handle his outbursts.

Of course, Harry had lied to him. How could the boy have even explained the truth to him? Could
Loki even truly understand that pain, his burden? Harry had never known a place like Asgard.
He’d only known the abuse of his relatives and the dangers of war. And Harry had had a taste of
paradise, a taste Loki had arranged as part of a convoluted plot to give him more than just a taste.
That small taste was meant to whet his appetite not leave him constantly starved for a meal that
would never come.

A pit opened up deep in his stomach. Could he do nothing right?

“I’m an idiot.”

“A little yes.”
 “I hadn’t realized it would be…I just wanted to give him the opportunity to enjoy something.”
Loki said. “I wanted him to decide free of anything where he’d like to spend his time. I thought if I
didn’t tell him what I felt that he’d…he’d be free to do what he wanted.”

“Harry’s own heart will keep him from freedom for a while.” Thor said. “He’ll keep sacrificing
himself time and time again.”

“But he shouldn’t have to! A single summer of fun isn’t going to destroy the world.”

“Harry would never see it that way.” Loki groaned knowing Thor was right.

“Damn. Damn. Damn.”

“He met Tyr.”

“What?”

“I don’t know how exactly but he ended up in training with the other trainees. You’ll never guess
what he did.” Thor said. “Tyr told me that Harry disarmed him. On the first try!”

“No.”

“Yes! Tyr told me that he was considering making Harry his apprentice!”

“What!” Loki’s voice was literally bursting with pride. He listened as Thor told him nearly word
for word what Tyr had told him. His smile kept growing wider and wider. It was almost easy to
forget what Loki had just learnt about his son.

“I’m so proud of him!”

“He’s brilliant! My son is absolutely brilliant!” Loki grabbed Thor’s hands and jumped up and
down a little.

“I know!” Thor squealed.

“Are you two done behind that privacy ward?” Sirius asked.

Thor and Loki both jumped like spiders had been conjured to crawl down their spines. Remus,
Sirius, and Harry were both standing there grinning at the two of them. Harry a slight look of
suspicion on his face and Loki remembered that Thor had promised to keep the Tyr thing a secret.
He probably looked a bit silly. Loki dropped Thor’s hands and the privacy ward at the same time.
He let his face slide into something close to neutrality.

“Are you going to punch me again Moony?”

“No.” Remus said smiling, the man held out his arms. “I missed you Prongs.”

“Oh so I’m just supposed to give you a hug.”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t even apologize for breaking my nose! Or for calling me those rude names!”

“James.”

Loki gave a really fake sigh to show how put upon he was and stepped forward. He pulled his
friend into a hug, appreciating the familiar scent of chocolate and old books. Remus hugged him
back. Some part of his heart felt healed and well in a way it didn’t the moment before. His family
felt almost complete with his son, his two best friends, and even Thor. There was still a piece
missing, no red hair and tinkling laughter, but for the moment it felt like enough.

“Thank you.” Remus whispered. “Thank you for coming back.”

Oh and the despair Loki could hear in those words. The pain. He pulled his friend a little closer to
his chest, wishing he could push away the years of solitude and painful transformations away.

“Thank you for being here.”

There would be time for them to talk privately later. Loki desperately wanted to know what life
Remus had lived in the last decade. He wanted to offer comfort and support in anyway his friend
required. He tried to imagine the loneliness and pain, the suffering Remus had gone through alone
with his condition. But he couldn’t. Loki pulled back from the hug a little.

“We need to talk about the Order and Dumbledore. But not here, can you come back to New York
right now? There are plans we must make.” Remus’ eyes hardened at the mention of Albus but
then there was an old grief that Loki knew so well.

“It’s tonight.” He said. “It won’t be safe for…”

“Remus.” Loki said. “We are together now. I promise you, like I promised you over a decade ago, I
won’t let you hurt anyone. I’m a god, I’m quite sure your teeth won’t be able to pierce my skin.”

“That a risk you want to take?”

“Not a risk, you’re my friend. Come with us.”

“It’ll be okay Remus.” Harry said placing a hand on the man’s shoulder. “We want you around, full
moon or not.”

“Harry last time you and I were close on the full moon I almost…”

“You didn’t.” Harry said simply, stepping over a story that Loki had yet to hear. “Sirius was there
to protect me and now there’s dad here too. Besides, I’m a demi-god. Pretty sure I’ll be fine.”

Remus smiled a little and Loki decided they’d dithered enough.

“Thor. Come on, let’s get back to the tower.”

“How are we getting there?”

“Portkey?” Sirius suggested.

“Good as anything else.”

So, Loki made a portkey, pulling his son close to his side. The portkey was just a ribbon he
conjured out of nothing. He enchanted in the coordinates for the top of Avenger’s Tower and had
everyone grab onto the strand. Everyone took it, even Thor who had no idea what the ribbon was
going to do.

“Mischief Managed.”

The familiar sensation of being picked up by the navel and flung through space and time
overwhelmed Loki for a moment. He held his son tightly and was gratified when he was held right
back. They arrived with a thud, Thor being the only one who didn’t manage a graceful landing.

“Thor a portkey isn’t as bad as the Bifrost. I expected better from you.”

“Yeah.” Sirius said. “Aren’t you supposed be a god or something?”

“Oh shut up.” Loki grinned at his brother annoyed face.

“Let’s go and introduce you two to the Avengers. My wily adversaries.”

“I would like nothing more James.” Sirius said. “Time to show these humans who’s boss.”

“Padfoot.” Remus chided. “They’re heroes not Snape.”

“Ehh. They fought against one of our own, Moony. Have you no loyalty?”

“When the ‘one of our own’ in question was being mind controlled? Not really.”

“You break my heart, Moony. You really do. You should’ve joined me in my fight against the
Avengers, mind control or not.”

“If James had come and broken me out of jail I would’ve joined him.”

“Clearly, Padfoot is my true friend.”

“Prongs.” Remus said. “Obviously I’m not your true friend. I was Lily’s. Which meant I would’ve
knocked some sense into you in her place.”

All three of them laughed and began their trek into the tower. Loki kept his son at his side. His
mind kept going back to what Thor had told him. To what he had planned. Clearly Loki needed to
be better at this. If he wanted to support his son he had to be direct about it. Harry wouldn’t do
what he expected of him. Loki had expected that if Harry liked Asgard then the boy would tell him.
Loki had expected that Harry would enjoy spending a month or two in Asgard.

Harry had done neither of these things and was probably under a lot of emotional duress because of
Loki’s poor planning. Who knew trying to give someone a nice day could be so fraught with
pitfalls?

“Welcome back.” Jarvis said. “I have alerted the other Avengers to your arrival and Mr. Stark
requests your presence in the penthouse to and I quote ‘explain what the hell you two were
thinking’.”

Sirius and Remus both jumped a little in shock but Harry was quick to explain that Mr. Stark had a
computer butler, or rather an invisible butler that wasn’t a person or a house-elf but was in fact very
polite and knew a lot of things. Sirius and Remus accepted this explanation with the skill of two
men used to far weirder things. While Harry explained that Loki and Thor led them to the stairs
and down to the penthouse.

All of the Avengers were there waiting for them.

None of them looked particularly pleased.

Then again, Loki and Harry had disappeared without so much as a ‘how do you do’. Perhaps a little
upset was acceptable.
“You know Loki.” Tony said. “This isn’t a Frat House where you can just bring whoever you want
to stay.”

“Isn’t that a halfway house?” Remus asked.

“No it’s a halfway house if you’re using it to house ex-cons. And as I escaped prison I’m currently
just a regular con instead of an ex-con.”

“So it’s not a halfway house it’s a bolt hole.”

“Weird bolt hole since it’s so big.” Sirius muttered before looking over at Tony. “You
compensating for something mate?”

Tony’s mouth opened in shock while the other Avengers tried to hold back their laughter. Sirius
strode forward in complete confidence and threw an arm around Tony’s shoulders.

“Oh don’t be embarrassed. It’s just biology you know.” Sirius confided. “I heard once that
Muggles had smaller equipment than wizards just naturally so you shouldn’t feel too poorly.”

“You really want to be talking about equipment Sirius?” Remus asked lifting up an eyebrow.
“Because I seem to recall a certain incident in fifth year when you…”

“Oi! Not in front of the kid! He’s got delicate ears!” Sirius interrupted.

“What’d he do, Remus?” Harry asked his voice deceptively innocent.

“Well you see Harry, sometimes when a boy is very stupid and has a crush on a very pretty girl he
tends to…”

Sirius jumped forward and slapped his hand over Remus’ mouth, then he yelped.

“You licked me!”

“You put your hand on my tongue in the middle of a word.”

The two started to argue in the same way they had when they were young and Loki soon found
himself being dragged in, both of his friends declaring that James would surely agree with them
and not the other. The Avengers watched all of this in silent bafflement.

“They’ve been like this all day.” Thor complained. “It’s nearly insufferable.”

“Did you replace Loki with a pod person?” Tony demanded.

“No.” Harry said. “He’s just being himself.”

Those words were said with a sort of pride and joy in them. They made something in Loki’s gut
burn because yes, this was who he was, wasn’t it? He enjoyed jokes and teasing and laughter. He
hadn’t been himself in a long time and suddenly it felt perfectly normal to be James Potter. Loki
had been a mask, a mask that he felt comfortable retiring for the time being.

“Where did you two go?” Steve asked, deciding smartly to leave the three magic users to their
good natured ribbing.

“Well first we went to London, then we went to a fog world where we found Sirius and fought
some zombies called Draugr. Then we accidentally went to Asgard and I met the King and Queen.
Then we came back to London to find Remus and then we came here.”
“What?”

“That was an awful story pup! You totally forgot to mention how handsome and brave I was.”

“Nor did you mention the fact that James got punched in the face five times”

“It was only four!”

Things devolved from there. Loki was content to let everything be chaotic for the foreseeable
future. Unfortunately, Remus actually had some sense, and also a time limit. It took him fifteen
minutes to wrangle Sirius and Loki into order and from there directed the conversation to explain
everything to the Avenger’s satisfaction. Remus had forced everyone to sit down and conducted
the explanation like a maestro. This gave the Avengers the very mistaken impression that Remus
was reasonable and mature. Which of course couldn’t be further from the truth.

This was proven true when Remus started telling stories designed to embarrassed Sirius and Loki
with little to no prompting. The man took on the role of beleaguered friend being dragged into
trouble as if he were trying for an Oscar. Sirius and Loki both disagreed vehemently with Remus’
description of events and started piling on evidence of Remus being just as much a bastard as the
rest of them.

This evidence included every prank Remus had pulled on their xenophobic defense teacher in their
4th year. 15 different examples of him lying to the headmaster while being a prefect in the name of
a prank. His spell ideas for protecting the Marauders Map. And of course, the pranks he’d pulled
on Sirius whenever they got into a fight.

(There were a lot of that last one.)

The air was filled with good humor and fun. At some point someone had gotten out drinks and
food and there were snacks being passed around between the group. Sirius, when he chose to be,
was a master at keeping control of a crowd. There had been many times in their youth that it had
been Sirius’ penchant for humor and drama that had brightened up a dull, rainy afternoon. Sirius
used this to his advantage now, charming the Avengers into seeing him and Remus as friends
instead of strangers.

The end result of this entire conversation was of course laughter. The Avengers were laughing.
Thor was booming. Sirius and Remus looked as if their stomachs were hurting. Harry’s eyes were
red from the tears. Remus desperately tried to defend his honor as the mature one of the group. But
it didn’t look like it was working.

As the stories continued, this time expanding out to the Avengers sharing stories of their own
moments of tomfoolery, Loki let his mind wander back to his son. Part of him wanted to confront
the boy on his lying. Telling him that he should always be honest. Another part of him didn’t care
about the lie and was more concerned with the pain his son was no doubt it. Another part of him
just wanted to scream at the universe. Eventually he found some words to share. A quick privacy
spell blocked out some of the laughter and Harry looked over at him in question.

“Starlight.” Loki said. “I want to…that is…you should know that I am very proud of you.”

“Thanks.” Harry said. “But…”

“I know things have been hard for you and I…well I can’t imagine what it’s been like. You’ve
been faced with some very tough decisions recently.”
“What did Thor tell you?” The boy asked suspiciously. “He promised he wouldn’t…”

Loki wasn’t surprised that Harry had figured it out so quickly.

“He told me that I have an amazing brilliant son who loves me and this world very much.” Loki
said. “And I want to tell you that the feeling is mutual. I love you so much Starlight and I want you
to be happy, more than anything. And I’m sorry that you feel like you can’t be happy right now.”

“It’s not…It’s not that bad, dad.”

“It is, darling.” Loki said pulling his son into a soft hug. “But it won’t always be. I understand why
you said what you said and I…I don’t blame you.”

“You don’t?”

“No.”

“I don’t like lying, you know.”

“Sometimes…sometimes a lie feels necessary.” Loki said. “I’m the god of lies, I can hardly get
after you for spouting one or two.”

“Asgard was really nice.” Harry admitted, his voice slightly muffled against Loki’s shoulder. “But
earth needs me and…and Thor said I could come back later.”

“Starlight.” Loki said. “Whenever you want, I will take you any place you wish to go. You say the
word and I’ll take you to the peaks in Vanaheim or the forges of the dwarves. We can take your
friends, we can do whatever you want, whenever you want. I promise you, this war will not last
forever and when it’s over you are going to truly live. You are going to explore and laugh and love,
and there won’t be a bit of danger I’ll let come your way until you’re ready for it again. I swear it.”

Harry hugged him back, his arms convulsing a little.

“And while this war rages, I’ll promise you something else.”

“What?”

“You’re still going to have pockets of joy.” Loki swore. “Like right now telling funny stories and
laughing with all of us. Tom Riddle will not take away what makes you happy, not anymore.”

“Thanks dad.”

“Don’t thank me Starlight. It’s my pleasure.”

 How many wizards does it take to run a washing machine?
Chapter Summary

Four, but one of them has to have more than one brain cell.

Chapter Notes

Hey everyone!!! Thanks for all the wholesome comments last chapter. I enjoyed
reading all of them!!!

Living with the Avengers was…weird. In fact, living with Remus and Sirius was weird but at least
Harry had some sort of idea of how those two acted. At least Harry had thought he’d had an idea.
He hadn’t. Sirius and Remus had been put under a strict ‘Do not use magic at all’ rule. The same
rule that his dad was under. This was because the tower could only handle so much magic before
all of the electronics burst into a shower of sparks. At least that’s what Tony claimed.

Harry was allowed to use magic. Tony had put his hands on his shoulders and said in a very grave
tone that Harry had given him the greatest gift of all when he’d punched his dad in such a
spectacular fashion.

“Kid. You’re allowed to do whatever the hell you want in my tower. Want to have a rave? We can
have a rave.”

“What’s a rave?”

“Oh kid.”

Of course, Loki and Sirius still used magic. They had to during the first few days to help Remus
with his transformations. But if the magic didn’t fall under the ‘absolutely have to do’ category
then magic was outlawed until Tony could magic proof his Jarvis and his arc reactor. Which meant
that Sirius and Remus were both…rather helpless. They’d both been raised in fully magic
households. Granted apparently Remus’ mother had been a muggle, a nice Welsh woman Harry
learnt, Remus had still spent his entire adult life living as a magic user. Neither man knew how to
go totally muggle.

No matter what Sirius claimed.

This resulted in Tony Stark almost pulling out his hair trying to explain basic concepts to wizards
whose general understanding of the world could be melted down to ‘have a problem, point your
wand at it, and will it better’. Sirius wanted tea but didn’t know how to use an electric kettle, he
also didn’t like having to wait the few minutes it took to heat the tea when Tony had explained
how to use it. This resulted in a very dramatic (and funny) monologue about how much suffering
muggles must live through. Sirius had similar problems with Tony’s fancy shower, the tv, the
electronic doors that opened on their own but didn’t require pleasantries like the doors at Hogwarts
did, and much more.
He and Jarvis did not get along.

Remus had destroyed the little Roomba robots that had been vacuuming his floor because he’d
thought they were some strange spy device. Harry almost wanted to forgive Remus that but
watching Remus endure Tony’s ‘lecture’ with a small smile on his face and Harry began to suspect
that Remus deserved whatever he had coming to him. Remus also blatantly refused to use the
elevator alone, claimed it was too dodgy. Which was probably another blatant lie because the
ministry used elevators. When Harry had pointed that out, Remus had said that the ministry
elevators ran on magic which was far more trustworthy.

Right.

In the end it was hard to tell how much Remus actually knew some days.

Harry’s dad had similar problems. Apparently before Harry’s arrival, the man had been using
magic to get away with most daily tasks. This was how Harry found out his dad didn’t know how
to do laundry. Really. The man didn’t even know where the laundry room in the tower was.
(Granted neither did Remus or Sirius but they hadn’t been living here for months.) His dad also
didn’t know how to use a non-magical oven or the coffee machine. Even though it was one of the
really fancy ones that just required you to press a button or two to get a perfectly pressed cup.

So, all of that was weird. Harry had found out his dad didn’t know how to do laundry about the
time that he realized he needed to do his. Which is to say the day after they got back from their trip
to Asgard. Harry didn’t have that many muggle clothes that actually fit him and so he needed to do
laundry pretty quickly. It had been simple to ask his dad who had looked a little sheepish and
explained that he rather…didn’t know.

Harry had then asked Thor who also looked sheepish and admitted that he’d been putting his dirty
clothes with Steve who had either not noticed the extra load or was doing Thor’s laundry for him
out of the kindness of his heart.

Honestly.

Harry had then asked Steve who had given him directions to the laundry room a few floors down.
Then when Harry had gotten his wad of dirty clothing ready his dad had appeared holding his own
pile with a blush on his face. Harry had brought the man down there and proceeded to teach him
how to use the machines and how much detergent to put in. It wasn’t complicated but his dad had
the same look on his face that Harry normally had in Snape’s class.

Harry had tried the same explanation with Sirius and Remus and found that both of them were
dubious that the machine would actually clean anything at all. But at least they agreed to try it out
for themselves. This resulted in Sirius pranking the machines to dye clothing into new and often
painfully vibrant colors. (The permanent banning of magic for everyone but Harry followed closely
after and was not a coincidence.) This also resulted in all magic users but Harry being banned from
the laundry room.

Harry in his infinite kindness then volunteered to do their laundry for them. But they were folding
it themselves and Harry extracted a promise of exemptions from any future pranks. Harry was not
the only person non-gratis when it came to the mischief that was going on in the tower. And boy
was there mischief. Even without magic those three men would stop at nothing to cause trouble.

So yeah. His dad didn’t know how to do laundry and was unlikely to learn anytime soon. Sirius and
Remus were both different kinds of helpless in the muggle world which only worsened with time.
Thor got being helpless by playing the ‘I’m an alien’ card which Harry thought was rather
ridiculous. He’d learnt how to cook, clean, and do laundry by the time he was five, Thor had no
excuse.

Maybe he wasn’t the best example.

If Harry had hoped that the Avengers would be easier to live with then he would have been very
disappointed. Because as it turned out all of the Avengers were just as helpless as the other adults
in his life. Steve was still trying to catch up on over 70 years of history, along with pretty much all
pop culture which left him in much the same boat as the magic users who were unfamiliar with the
muggle world. Bruce and Tony both had the worst sleeping schedules Harry had ever seen, and
Harry had a scar that gave him painful blood-filled visions when he slept. Both men practically
lived off of their preferred caffeinated drinks and sheer stubbornness.

Clint was just a kid in an adults body and had the outlook and self-control as such. Natasha seemed
like she could have been the adult of the group but Harry quickly discovered she was pretty much
just like Remus. A cool, mature exterior, hiding a mess underneath.

And none of them. Not a single one of them, knew how to cook.

That wasn’t exactly true. Steve still had his great grandmother’s famous apple pie recipe
memorized. Bruce knew how to cook curry but it was too spicy for anyone but him to want to eat.
Tony knew how to boil noodles, not that he could do anything with them once they were done, but
still. It was knowledge. Harry assumed they all had the skill to put a sandwich together but hadn’t
checked for confirmation because he feared being wrong.

Thor was a prince who’d had his meals prepared by servants for his entire life. Clint preferred to
live off of things that only required the ability to open a package to eat. The magic users had all
used magic to cook. Harry had asked if Natasha knew how to cook and she’d told him ‘only things
that will kill you’.

Harry had found out that none of them knew how to cook when he’d asked Jarvis if he was allowed
to use the well-stocked kitchen. Tony had stocked it with everything a chef could want under the
assumption that someone on the team would know or want to use it. He’d been wrong and the
entire team had begun to live off of food deliveries and packaged products like savages.

“You wish to use the kitchen?” Jarvis asked.

“Yeah. Its breakfast, and I’m feeling hungry. Is it free for me to use?”

“Yes, would you like me to pull up some recipes or perhaps instructional videos for you to use?”
Jarvis asked. “I could also order you whatever foods you would like.”

“No thanks.” Harry said, unaware of the havoc he would be bringing into his life. “I’ve got it.”

So he went to the kitchen. He grabbed flour and sugar and eggs and milk and measuring cups and
placed them on a gleaming (and never before used) granite countertop. Harry’s newly discovered
godly appetite meant that he planned on making a lot of food. He paused a moment wondering if he
should make enough for his dad and then decided he might as well. His dad would probably even
be nice about his less than stellar cooking skills.

Harry knew he wasn’t much of a cook. The Dursleys had made that clear. He knew that they ate it
still but he’d always imagined it was because they were too lazy to do anything else. So, Harry
knew he wasn’t a good cook, but he believed himself to be passable. (Why Harry still believed
anything the Dursleys told him would remain a mystery for some time yet but the
misunderstanding about his cooking proficiency was about to be cleared up very quickly.)

Harry had done some quick math in his head and determined that most people in this tower could
probably eat as much, if not more than a Dudley sized portion. A Dudley-celebrating-something-
vile sized portion was about what Harry ate now a few times a day to keep up with his appetite,
after all. So if Harry made enough food to feed Dudley five times then there should be enough for
himself, his dad, Remus, Sirius, and even Thor.

He put together a meal in his head based on what he saw was available to him and got to work.
Harry was up rather early that morning which meant that when he first started there was no one
awake to notice what he was doing, or more importantly smell it. However soon enough Harry had
filled the kitchen and subsequently the entire open area of the penthouse of the tower with the
delicious smells of omelets, bacon, sausages, and pancakes. Harry was, at this point in his life,
quite an expert at multitasking in the kitchen. When his relatives weren’t breathing down his neck
or outright sabotaging him, he was capable of doing quite a bit at once in the name of a meal.

The smell alerted the person living in the penthouse first. Harry lived in a lower floor with the
other magic users and Thor. Only Tony Stark lived in the master suite on the top floor. Which
meant that Tony Stark was the first being to waft into the kitchen, led there by a breeze of warm
scents. The man, messy haired and oil stained from a night in his lab, stumbled in and paused at the
sight Harry presented.

“What?”

“Jarvis said it was okay for me to use the kitchen.”

“That’s not it…kid you know how to cook?” Tony asked as Harry reached out and put a pinch of
salt into the egg mixture he was stirring up for his omelet.

“Umm. Yeah.” Harry said. “I’m not very good but…”

“At this point you could be the worst cook in existence and I wouldn’t care, I am so tired of frozen
waffles in the morning.” The man said. “Can I have some?”

Harry motioned freely to the food he’d already made that was still steaming on the various plates
he’d pulled out. Tony walked forward and pulled one of the plates, this one with a large golden
fluffy omelet on it with a side of bacon. Harry produced a fork for him and pretended not to watch
as the man took his first bite. He expected to see that look of disdain that always accompanied his
aunt and uncle.

Instead the man froze, his brown eyes widening as he chewed. Harry winced.

“It’s awful isn’t it? Oh this was a terrible idea I shouldn’t have even…”

“Kid.” Tony said, his voice hushed. “Please give up on the hero business.”

“What?”

“I will pay you any amount of money if you will live here and make me food like this for the rest
of my life.”

“I don’t…”

“This is delicious! You should have mentioned this way earlier! Are the demi-god of food or
something? Never mind. Doesn’t matter. Jarvis! Tell Clint to get his ass up here and try this.”
Harry allowed himself to be bewildered by Tony Stark for a moment longer before he turned back
to his cooking. In the meantime Tony continued to eat his breakfast. Clint did indeed come up and
when he was there, Tony just shoved another full plate at him. Clint had nearly the same reaction
as Tony had. Which was highly unexpected. In all honesty he wasn’t sure how to deal with it.
Except by making more food whenever a new Avenger wandered in.

One by one they all appeared and as they did, they all got a plate. Harry managed to sneak his own
meal in as he cooked and he found he didn’t mind. Thor and his dad had both been very loud and
proud in their compliments of his cooking. As had Sirius and Remus. Sirius had even gone so far as
to ruffle his hair and call him gifted. There was a warmth bursting in his heart as he watched
everyone enjoy his cooking. All the adults in the room were settled around the penthouse in
whatever chairs they could scrounge up, laughing and joking. They were all so excited and happy
and Harry liked that.

At least he did until he learnt the truth.

“None of you know how to cook?!?”

He’d never been so disappointed in his life.

They were the Avengers and heroes, not to mention grown adults. How did none of them know
how to take care of themselves? Harry listened to their justifications and defenses in a stupor. He
couldn’t believe it. He didn’t want to believe it.

And yet it was true. It was a startling comparison to the Dursleys. The only difference being that
Aunt Petunia knew how to cook and just refused to when Harry was around. Tony had not been the
only person to ask him to cook more often for the group. His mind abruptly created an image of
him chained to the oven constantly pushing out mountains of food for the gods and super-soldiers
of the team. Inwardly he shook himself.

“I dunno.” Harry said. “That’s a lot of work…”

“Obviously we’d help out.” Clint said. “Anytime you feel like cooking just let us know and a
couple of us will help with the prep and the rest of us will do clean up. Right guys?”

“Only when I feel like it?” Harry asked dubiously. He didn’t fail to notice the looks some of the
Avengers exchanged with each other.

“Course kid.” Tony said. “We’re not going to make you do anything you don’t want to.”

And that was the weirdest part about living with the Avengers. When they said things like that,
they meant it.

True to their word they did not ask him to cook, they did not bother him about it. They didn’t even
subtly bring up anything. Harry watched them around meal times with hawk eyes looking for any
sort of resentment or frustration, but there was nothing. It was weird. It was incomprehensible. For
three days Harry watched and wondered, trying to understand this odd turn of events. The
Avengers treated him as they always had. Inviting him to play video games, or to train his strength
with them. Sirius, Remus, and his dad still researched his scar and other magic things for him and
invited him to help if he wanted. They all smiled at him and greeted him with friendliness. They
did all this despite the fact that Harry wasn’t giving them what they wanted.

They had wanted his food, right? Harry couldn’t have possibly misinterpreted their appreciation of
that breakfast. They’d even asked him to cook again and Harry had deferred. They didn’t even
complain about it. Harry even went so far as to ask Jarvis if any of the Avengers had been heard
talking about his lack of cooking behind his back. Jarvis told him that they hadn’t complained.

It was unfathomable.

In the end he decided to test it. He decided to cook dinner, when he walked into the kitchen with a
purpose it only took three minutes for Thor and Steve to show up. Both men insisted that they be
allowed to help.

“Just tell us what to do, Harry.”

And Harry, unable to argue with them, did exactly that. He watched, mystified, as the god of
thunder learned how to mince and Captain America tried his hand and peeling onions and garlic.
Harry took pity on the captain eventually and showed him the trick of how to peel garlic quickly by
pressing on it with the flat part of the knife to break the skin. The desired part of the garlic would
slide right out free of it’s confines. Steve had looked at him like he was some sort of wizard. Which
he was but this was different.

Neither of them complained about the tasks they were given, they just did them as best they could
and took correction from Harry when necessary.

It was sort of freaking Harry out.

“So Harry.” Steve asked. “Where did you learn to cook?”

“Taught myself mostly.” Harry shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. “Picked up a few cookbooks
from the library and did my best.”

“Really? That’s interesting.” Steve said without a hint of condescension. “What caused all the
interest in it?”

His uncle had slapped him upside the head one too many times for burning breakfast and Harry
had decided to do something about it. Not that Harry was going to say that out loud. He licked his
lips and side-stepped the question.

“It was just…something I thought I should know.”

“Right.” Steve said. “Well either way you should be proud, you’re really good at this.”

Harry hummed in a way that implied he agreed without him actually having to agree with
anything. The conversation moved on from there to Thor talking about his favorite Asgardian
foods. Some of which Harry had actually had, some of which he’d not yet tried. Steve added on
talking about his favorite foods, things that had since fallen out of style in the past 70 years or had
changed so drastically it wasn’t fair to call them the same at all.

When dinner was ready and served Harry wasn’t allowed to do any of the clean up, instead Clint,
Natasha, and Remus did it while Tony set up a movie for them all to watch. Tony had made the
executive decision to educate the magic users in modern muggle media, and he was doing it with
movies. Harry found himself snuggled up on a couch, his dad’s arm around him and Sirius as a dog
with his head in Harry’s lap receiving head scratches with an action movie he’d never seen playing
on the screen.

It became a tradition after that. Anytime Harry decided to make a dinner they’d have a movie night
after. It was nice if worryingly impossible to understand. Harry explained this all to Hermione who
was busy helping her parents pack and get ready to move to New York. She told him that it seemed
normal to her. Her parents never made her do things she didn’t want to do, unless it was something
like getting her vaccines. Ron gave a similar answer although he also thought it was sort of weird
that Harry didn’t have any chores at all.

There was a strange feeling in the air for him now. He was afraid to ask any questions because
what if that destroyed the peaceful balance? So he didn’t ask. He just cooked whenever he felt like
it and spent his days learning to control his strength and learning some interesting magic from his
family. He did his best not to bring up the war or the prophecy. The knowledge of it hung around
him like a fog. He did his best to ignore it, even when his scar twinged in pain or someone asked
about Death Eaters.

Harry knew that this moment of peace would end soon enough. Hermione was on her way and she
was never one to let things rest. Once she was here it would be time to work. Beyond that Remus
needed to return to the Order and begin the plan to get one over Dumbledore. And yet he found
himself trying his best to revel in what his dad called pockets of joy. Things like learning how to
play Mario Kart or watching Sirius and Remus prank Thor’s things.

He wondered how long he’d have before Voldemort would rear his ugly head again. He wondered
if he’d be ready. But whenever he wondered about it too hard his dad would throw his arm around
his shoulders and tell him how proud he was, and the thoughts would fade.

It was weird here. But Harry could get used to weird.

 Hermione the Ruthless
Chapter Summary

Hermione finally arrives in New York, with her careful parents in tow.

Chapter Notes

I'm so glad all of us want to protect Harry so much. I really felt the love for him last
week in all the comments. The poor boy deserves so many hugs.
Thanks for the great comments! I hope you all like this week's update!

The airport was loud. Of course, Hermione had known it would be. She’d flown plenty of times
before on different vacations with her parents, but she’d never been to America before and this
place… was much louder than expected. She huffed and readjusted her grip on her book. She’d
managed to get her hands on some good magical theory books that she was certain would help her
with the project Tony Stark had invited her to help with and she was almost finished with this one.

In front of her, her parents walked, hand in hand. Her mum was pulling the carry-on that her
parents always shared. Her dad was carefully holding Crookshank’s carrier. In between paragraphs,
Hermione always looked up to make sure she was still following her parents as they moved from
their gate and towards customs and baggage claim. Her dad pulled out his phone and said that their
ride was already waiting for them.

“Oh, how exciting!” Her mother gushed. “I always knew our little Hermie would do great things
but I never thought it’d be an internship with The Tony Stark.”

Hermione rolled her eyes a little at the nickname. It was one of the things that had haunted her
before Hogwarts. The kids at her old school had heard her mum call her that and had started
making fun of her. Hermione had been very careful to ensure people called her by her name at
Hogwarts. Although Ron and Harry sometimes shortened her name, it didn’t bother her. They were
her friends. Her family.

She discreetly pulled on the long sleeve of her shirt, the cuff had slid down some and was now
revealing a peak of her newest form of what her mother would call ‘rebellion’. Her parents had yet
to see the mark on her wrist from when she’d magically declared herself Harry’s sister and she
would like to keep it that way until she was 18, at least. She hoped Harry would be willing to cast
some sort of glamor over it soon so that she wouldn’t have to keep wearing jackets in this heat.

Carefully she turned the page of her book, her mind wandering back down paths that were far
easier for her to comprehend than her parents had ever been. Not to say that she didn’t love them.
She did. But her parents frankly, did not understand her and she did not understand them. It wasn’t
even the magic that was the problem, her parents loved magic. No the problem was that Hermione
was what her father had always called an ‘odd duck’.

Hermione had been entirely nonverbal until she was 3. She had broken that streak of silent
treatment after her parents had taken her to numerous doctors all of which had found that there was
nothing wrong with her. Her mother had despaired, wondering what she’d done wrong and
Hermione had hugged her mother around the neck, sniffed at her rose scented soap and said quite
clearly.

“Don’t worry mummy, I was just looking for the right thing to say.”

Hermione was not the sort of girl to bother with only having one first word. No her first words had
to be strung beautifully together into a good proper sentence. She could still remember her
frustration as a child, she hadn’t like speaking until she knew she had just the right words to use.
Sometimes it felt like she never ever had the right words no matter how hard she tried. Her parents
had done their best, giving her books upon books upon books, letting her collect as many words
and definitions as she could. If she needed to have the right words in order to speak then they
would make sure she had them.

Hermione had grown up into a bookworm who preferred the structure of books and a never-ending
quest for knowledge over interacting with people. She had tried a few times as a younger girl,
stepping forward to share what she’d learnt about whatever her new interest was but people always
just called her a know-it-all. Her parents tried to keep up, but they were dentists. Just normal people
with normal interests.

They didn’t understand half of what Hermione talked about by the time she was 7. At first it had
been that Hermione didn’t speak enough and then she spoke too much. Her parents adjusted best
they could and they always got her the books she wanted. They tried to support her in her quest to
make friends and they always comforted her when she inevitably failed. But they simply did not
understand.

Going to Hogwarts had transformed Hermione in more ways than one. Discovering magic, and all
that that entailed had given her the longest lasting obsession she’d ever had in her life. Before she
would jump from subject to subject, picking up a book or two and devouring it before moving on.
Now at Hogwarts, she couldn’t even think about moving on. Magic was just too fascinating.

She’d hoped that Hogwarts would be filled with people like her. Perhaps magic was what made her
this way. Perhaps she was like the birds she’d read about. How different birds had different calls
and birds of different species couldn’t understand the calls from each other. Maybe all her life
she’d been calling out for her own flock, a call that fell on uncomprehending ears. It wouldn’t be
anyone’s fault then that she hadn’t made friends. They’d been speaking in different languages this
whole time.

She had been, of course, disappointed. That became clear on the train ride over and her disastrous
first conversation with Harry and Ron. Ron where she insulted his spell and told him about his
dirty nose and then Harry where she pointed out that she’d read all about him like some creepy
stalker. Hermione had called out an awkward birdsong full of enthusiasm about magic and the
houses and the two boys she’d hoped would answer had stared at her, laps covered in candy
wrappers and dirt on their noses.

She could still remember the exact words she’d read about Harry. The historians had wrote his
birthday, his ancestry, and a bunch of incorrect assumptions about what had happened that night
with You-Know-Who. Then again she remembered every word she’d ever read in her entire life.
Up to and including her very first book, a Websters dictionary she’d found on her father’s desk at
the age of 3 and ¾.

The first words she’d ever read had, in fact, been a definition for the word ‘a’.
It was clear then that it was not magic that made Hermione different. It was simply who she was.
By Halloween of her first year she had resigned herself to loneliness. Ron had been right, she was a
know-it-all. A bird with a flock of one. That knowledge was far more crushing at Hogwarts than it
had been before because now she didn’t even have her mother’s rose scented soap and her father’s
soft hands to comfort her.

And then she’d been almost crushed by a troll’s club.

She’d also told her first lie to an authority figure about five minutes after that, and for some reason
that struck her as a far more significant occurrence. Perhaps because she’d only been attacked by a
troll the once and she’d found herself lying to adults with far more frequency after that.

Either way. The most important thing from that night was that as she stood there, her 11 year old
body shaking with adrenaline, two boys had stood by her side. (She could draw the chemical shape
of the bonds of that hormone in her sleep still. She’d memorized all the hormones in the human
body when she was 9.) Then once the adults had left, Ron had apologized for calling her a name
and told her that she’d been right.

“And if I hadn’t listened to you, we would’ve never defeated that troll!”

Hermione had, quite accidentally, made two friends. Friends who had, within a few weeks, learnt
how to sing the same bird call as her. Harry had figured out quite quickly that Hermione never
meant any harm when she corrected them. She just loved magic ever so much and she wanted to
share what she knew with anyone who would listen. Ron grew to be able to tell the difference
between when Hermione was just being herself and when she was genuinely annoyed. And she
grew too. She learnt how to repeat the birdsong of her peers, Ron and Harry acting as her guides.

Her parents always remarked about how much she changed every time she went to school.
Hermione couldn’t bring herself to regret it. She was much happier now than she’d ever been
before. Even with the war going on. She readjusted her sleeve one more time, her fingers brushing
over the tattoo.

“Hermie?” Her mother called. “I need your passport.”

“Here.” Hermione said reaching into her pocket and pulling out the booklet. Her mother took it and
handed it to the woman behind the custom’s desk. Around them conversations from various
muggles ebbed and flowed and Hermione wished she could cast a spell to muffle the noise. Crowds
always grated against her ears.

“There we go.” Her mother said.

They made it through customs easily enough. Crookshanks had passed inspection with minimal
fussing. Her cat had been very polite in his carrier, she was very proud of him. Then they went
towards the baggage claim. A majority of their things were being shipped over separately but
Hermione had packed her most precious books in her trunk and insisted on having it flown over
with them. Her parents had also insisted she pack clothes and they’d done the same in their own
bags.

They went down a very long escalator and went to the left, her parents were looking for the right
baggage carousel from which their things would be spit out. Hermione turned another page on her
book.

“Hermione!”
Hermione’s head snapped up from her book and she saw Harry standing there by the carousel
labeled ‘9’. He was wearing clothing that fit and he looked well fed and rested. In fact, Hermione
was quite sure, that Harry looked healthier and happier than she had ever seen him. And since
she’d never forgotten what her friend had looked like each day she’d known him, not since the first
time she saw him on that train, she knew exactly how important that was.

“HARRY!”

She rushed in between her parents and towards her best friend. Harry grinned, his bright green eyes
literally glowing in the fluorescent lighting of the airport. She flung herself into her best friend’s
waiting arms, the pages of her book getting bent and wrinkled. Harry lifted her up effortlessly and
hugged her, huffing a little as her very bushy hair covered his entire face. Harry spun them around
slightly before lowering her so that her feet could touch the floor. She wasn’t quite used to his new
height yet.

“Your book.” Harry said looking at the now slightly damaged pages in concern. “Here let me fix
that.”

He gently reached out and used a bit of magic to straighten out the pages. Hermione beamed at her
friend.

“How are you?” Hermione asked, closing the book and sticking it under her arm for safekeeping.

“Good.” Harry said and she could tell he meant it. “How about you? Was the flight okay?”

“It was loud.” She said and Harry nodded needing no more explanation from her on her opinion of
the flight.

“I hope you had a few good books at least.” He said.

“Of course I did.” What did he take her for? Harry grinned at her.

“Hermione?” Her father said. “Would you care to introduce us?”

“Right.” Hermione said. “Mum, Dad. This is Harry Potter. Harry these are my parents. Dr. and Dr.
Granger.”

“Hullo.” Harry said holding out his hand to shake her dad’s hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Her dad took Harry’s hand and shook it. His parents were studying Harry, the source of all the
danger Hermione had ever been in for her entire life, with consternation. They were doing their
best to be open minded she knew and she hoped Harry wouldn’t take it personally.

“You’re…uh dentists right?” Harry asked. “That’s what Hermione told me.”

“We are.” Her mother said. “We’ve been running our practice for over 20 years now. Although
we’ve had to shut down because of this…situation.”

In another universe Hermione would have a very large argument about what her mother had called
‘the situation’ with her parents. Her parents had always been supportive of her friendship with
Harry, even if they didn’t understand it. Supportive until the war became real, until people started
dying. They’d wanted her to stay home, to stay safe. They simply didn’t understand why she had to
be the one to stand against Voldemort. And Hermione would have refused to stay because she
knew where she was meant to be. In that other world that argument would end with Hermione
deciding to move her parents to Australia, memories hidden away, and running to the Burrow,
ready to save the world with her two best friends.

But in this world, her mother’s words only caused Hermione to frown a little as Harry shifted
awkwardly on his feet.

“Right. Well, we should get our bags.” Her dad said. “Who came to pick us up?”

“Uhm, me, my dad and Tony.” Harry said. “They’re outside, didn’t want to cause a scene or
anything. Once we get your bags, we’ll head out to the car and then to the tower.”

“How is your dad?” Hermione asked pulling her friend away from the awkward tension her parents
had caused. “I know over the phone you said things were weird and if he’s doing something you
don’t like then…”

“He’s…it’s really good, ‘Mione. Even if it’s weird sometimes, I still like it. He- He uh…” Harry
cleared his throat a little and then spoke. “He calls me Starlight sometimes and it’s nice. He always
answers my questions no matter what they are and he never gets annoyed with me.”

Hermione could have danced for joy. In all her wildest dreams she’d never even hoped that Loki
would be good for Harry. She had just prayed that the god wouldn’t hurt him. This was better,
much better. Her friend sounded so happy, so at peace with himself as he talked about his dad. In
front of them the carousel’s conveyor belt began to move and suitcases slid down from a chute
onto the belt. Her trunk appeared quite quickly and Harry grabbed it for her, not even wincing at
the incredible weight of all of her favorite books.

Super strength would obviously come in handy when they went shopping for their school supplies
in a month or so.

Once her parents found their suitcases and Hermione had taken Crookshanks from her dad, Harry
led them out of the airport and towards where a limo was waiting. An actual limo.

“I’ll get this into the back.” Harry said.

“Let me help you there son. That trunk is a bit…” Her dad stopped talking when Harry easily
hefted up the entire trunk, balancing it on one hand so that it was being held up at Harry’s
shoulder.

The door to the limo opened up and out slid the one and only god of mischief. He was wearing, not
the customary armor leather she’d always seen him wearing on the telly, but instead a pair of jeans
and a soft t-shirt. He looked like the pictures Hermione had seen of James Potter, wearing casual
muggle clothing. The only difference being the hair style and eye color.

“Hello, you must be the Grangers.” Loki said. “It’s an honor, please, come on in. There are drinks
and snacks inside if you need anything before we arrive at the tower.”

It was all very fancy, Hermione blinked a little and made her way into the limo. She didn’t expect
to see Tony Stark just sitting there in an Armani suit, tapping away on his expensive phone. She
kept her cool and carefully sat on the other bench, leaving room for Harry on one side of her. Her
parents followed inside and immediately Tony put his phone down and started talking to her
parents, welcoming them and explaining where they’d be staying and what he’d prepared for them.

Harry and Loki got in and Harry immediately took the seat Hermione had left for him. He grinned
at her and then whispered.

“So what’s so cool about your book?”

Hermione grinned and started talking, rapid-fire, about everything she’d learnt in the book. The
words, excitedly spilling out of her and towards her eager audience. Harry listened easily,
interrupting only when he didn’t understand something, and she happily redefined and explained
the concept. It wasn’t often that they had time for Hermione to talk like this, but sometimes on a
free Sunday at school, when there wasn’t quidditch practice or something evil to thwart she got to
lecture her friends to her heart’s content.

Ron sometimes complained, but that was usually only in good fun. Ron and Hermione did so enjoy
having a good, rousing argument with each other. He was only serious when they didn’t have
something for him to snack on. Harry only ever got annoyed when something was trying to kill him
or otherwise destroy something he loved. But right then? Harry was relaxed, almost basking in
Hermione’s excited babbling. It was the perfect sort of day. The only thing that would make it
better was if Ron were here.

“Hermione.” Her mother said interrupting her almost mid-word. “Slow down, you’re talking far
too much. I’m sure your friend here is a bit overwhelmed. I’m sorry about her, sometimes she just
gets into these zones where she…”

“There’s nothing wrong with what she was doing.” Harry interrupted, his eyes narrowing. “I asked
Hermione about her book and I like listening to what she has to say.”

“Well, but she can get a bit-”

“She has nothing to apologize for.” Harry said very sternly. “She’s my best friend and she’s great
just the way she is.”

Her mother’s lip wobbled a little and even her dad looked a bit teary. Hermione realized in that
moment that her parents had been afraid that Harry wasn’t really her friend. That Harry, like so
many before him, was only using Hermione for her brain and didn’t actually like her. They’d been
trying to protect her.

“Oh…yes of course you’re right.” Her mum said, in a tone that made it clear she might as well
have been saying ‘oh what a darling boy this is’.

“Well.” Loki said, interrupting them. “We’re here. Let’s get you all settled.”

“Come on. ‘Mione.” Harry said. “I’ll get your trunk and then I’ll show you around, this place has a
pool.”

“It does?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah, it’s great!”

“Go on, Hermie.” Her mum said. “We’ll find you later. I want to talk to Mr. Stark about what your
internship is going to entail.”

Hermione nodded and followed her friend. Ignoring the amused look on Harry’s face as he
mouthed the word ‘Hermie’. He took her up an elevator and to a floor that had been designated for
her and her parents. Apparently, Harry’s room was a few floors up from her’s.

“I stay with my dad and uncle. I’ve got my own room and everything. Jarvis can you show us a
map of the tower so I can point things out to Hermione?”

“Of course sir.” A smooth slightly robotic voice said from nowhere, Hermione jumped a little.
“Who is that?”

“It’s Jarvis.”

“I am Mr. Stark’s personal AI. It is my job to meet the daily needs of the inhabitants of Avengers
tower.”

“An AI?” Hermione squealed. Before spouting out fifteen different questions to Jarvis about his
capabilities and programming.

(She’d had an obsession with AIs when she was 10 for about 5 months.)

“Perhaps you should direct these queries to Mr. Stark?” Jarvis suggested. “He is with your parents
in the penthouse.”

“Let’s go Harry! I can’t believe this! A real Artificial Intelligence! Don’t you know what this
means Harry?”

“I imagine you’re going to tell me.” Hermione rolled her eyes and told him about the wonderful
implications for the world of science as they went back into the elevator and up to the penthouse.
The elevator opened up silently and Harry led her down a hallway towards the living room. They
paused at the sound of arguing.

“My daughter is not going to have anything to do with this damn war!” Her dad said. “She’s a
child.”

“I understand that and I’m not suggesting we put her in the front lines.” Loki said. “But you cannot
ignore reality.”

“The reality,” Her mother snapped. “is that my baby girl has been put in near death situation after
situation because of her association with your son. And now you’re suggesting that we put her into
further harms way? This is a job for adults, for trained wizards and witches. Not a child, not my
dear sweet Hermie.”

Hermione frowned. She wasn’t a dear sweet Hermie. Not anymore. No she was the girl who’d lit
teachers on fire, who’d locked a reporter in a glass jar for months, who’d started an illegal
underground fighting club/army, who’d gotten a corrupt ministry official trampled by centaurs.
Dear sweet Hermie wouldn’t have broken Draco Malfoy’s nose and she wouldn’t have broken into
a government building to fight terrorists.

That was not who Hermione was. It wasn’t who she’d ever been. Her parents still didn’t
understand. She listened as both her mother and father argued that Hermione was too delicate to
fight, too kind. Hermione wasn’t kind. She was proactive. If she saw an injustice in the world then
she did everything in her power to stand up against it. Whether it was the unfair execution of a
hippogriff or the enslavement of house elves. And when it came to defending the people she
loved? Hermione wasn’t kind, no Hermione was ruthless.

She stomped into the room, Harry at her heels like a protective shadow.

“I absolutely forbid my daughter from fighting.” Her mother said.

“Mum.” Hermione said causing everyone to look at them.

“Hermie!” Her mother greeted before seeing her glower. “What’s wrong sweetheart?”
“What’s wrong?” She asked. “What’s wrong is that you think you can choose this for me!”

“Now, Hermione.” Her dad began.

“No dad.” She said. “This is my choice and I can’t not fight. I have to.”

“We need to trust in the adults now darling.” Her mother said. “The magical government will…”

“There’s nobody to trust but ourselves!” Hermione cried, entirely disillusioned. “Dumbledore is a
manipulator who will lie and abuse anyone he can in the name of the Greater Good. The Minister
of Magic lied to the public for an entire year just so that he wouldn’t have to deal with the war.
Professor Umbridge tortured my best friend for months because he was brave enough to tell the
truth! The adults were the one who let all of the Death Eaters off after the end of the first war. It
was them that let corruption and evil fester! And I am tired of lying to myself about it!”

Her parents were staring at her as if they’d never seen her before in their lives and perhaps they
hadn’t, not really. Loki and Tony Stark were both looking at her too, but with something more like
awe than fear in their eyes.

“All this time I’ve been telling myself that I can trust the adults, the professors at my school and
the minister but I can’t! I can’t! No one can! They only serve themselves, they don’t care about
who they hurt to get what they want! You raised me to believe in the law and in authority but you
were wrong! I need to fight, I need to stand up for this world because the adults never will. They
had over a decade to make a change, they had four years of warning that Tom Riddle was
reactivating and they did nothing! The government is corrupt! The Order is useless! All we have to
hope for is right there!”

She motioned dramatically to her friend, to Harry. The person who’d wrestled a troll and stuck his
wand up its nose for her on Halloween night. The friend she’d follow anywhere, no matter what.

“I know what I need to do, mom dad. I know that I met Harry all those years ago because…
because we needed each other and because the world needs us. I’ve been fighting in this war for a
year now! Training and studying for it!”

“Hermione Jean Granger. You’ve done no such thing!”

“I have!” She said. “And I used magic to shrink and straighten my teeth. I got a tattoo. I formed an
illegal army of children with Harry as it’s general! I’ve broken into the Forbidden Section of the
library more times than I can count! I’ve lied and broken every school rule I can think of because if
no one else is going to stand up for this world then I will!”

Hermione’s hair stood up on end, like a lion’s mane. That’s what she felt like right then, like a lion.
She was finally the Gryffindor she’d claimed to be for all these years.

“But you’re just a child.”

“I’m needed.” Hermione said simply. “I have brains and an encyclopedic knowledge of everything
I’ve ever read. I have a wand and I know where I’m meant to be and what I’m meant to do. It
doesn’t matter that I’m young. I’d rather fight now, young and with my friends by my side than
wait and lose anyone else to this war. You can’t choose this for me, I already did.”

“But Hermie. How can you know that you…”

“You raised me to know right from wrong mum.” Hermione said. “And I did the math. Harry
needs me to end this war, I know he does. If I don’t help him, if I hide? That’d be wrong.”
“You did math?” Harry interrupted.

She’d done the math again and again and again as a 13 year old. Sitting in Arithmancy and
determining how likely it would be that her friends would survive without her.

“It’s not important.” Hermione said. “Just know that your odds aren’t great without me.”

“Oh I already knew that.”

Her parents looked heartbroken and so, so very frightened. Hermione stepped forward and took
their hands in her own.

“It’s the right thing to do and I’m not going to hesitate.” Hermione said. “I promise you, I’m not
going to let myself get killed. I’ll train and study and practice whatever I have to. No matter what
happens, I’m going to be okay.”

It wasn’t a promise she could actually keep. and she’d never been one for divination but she still
meant it with all her heart. Her mother sobbed and her dad pulled her into a hug. Hermione hugged
them back, whispering that she loved them, and she knew they worried but they had to trust her.
Eventually she pulled back from the hug and her parents looked at one another. It was the same
look they’d had when she’d begged to go to Hogwarts.

“Fine.” Her dad said looking over at Loki. “But you’d better get her some armor or something. A
helmet at least.”

“That.” Loki said, sizing Hermione up and down. “I can do.”

 Purple Flames
Chapter Summary

Harry and Hermione both try to warm up before their training begins

Chapter Notes

Hey ya'll! Thank you so much for the amazing comments. I'm so glad you enjoyed my
Hermione!! She's amazing! Here's the next update!

Harry stood next to Hermione. His friend was wearing some exercise clothing that he’d never seen
in his life. Granted for the most part he saw Hermione in her school uniform but still the purple
stretchy fabric was new. He’d opened his mouth to ask about it and she gave him a look.

Right.

“You’re the one who’s wearing jeans.”

“They work.” Harry shrugged. “Besides when I train dad has me in armor.”

“And you’re not wearing that now because?”

Harry shrugged, suddenly embarrassed about how he looked in the Asgardian clothes.

“I’ll put it on later.”

“You should put it on now. Your dad and the others are going to be here soon.” Hermione said.
“Oh I can’t believe my parents agreed to let me get some training. I never thought…”

Personally, Harry was of the opinion that her parents hadn’t agreed so much as been forced but he
wasn’t stupid enough to say that out loud. For one, Harry didn’t want to anger Hermione by
pointing out how terrifying she could be. And for two? Well he didn’t think her parents would
appreciate that either. Granted her parents didn’t seem to like him much at all. Her mother switched
between appraising him as her daughter’s friend and condemning him for being such a danger
magnet. Her dad glared at him whenever he hugged Hermione.

He tried not to be offended. He knew deep down that they were right to not like him. Most adults
didn’t and besides, Hermione would be safe if she hadn’t been his friend. She could safely read her
books and she’d never have been in that fight in the Ministry. If Harry wasn’t in Hermione’s life
she’d be safe. But that wasn’t reality and now Hermione was going to be joining him for training
every day.

Wearing tight purple exercise clothing that she looked less than comfortable in.

“Harry.” Hermione said. “Why are you looking like that?”

“What? I’m not looking like anything.”

“You are.” She said. “You’ve got that…crease on your forehead you get when you’re worried.”

Harry reached up to rub at the wrinkle in his skin, the wrinkle he didn’t even know was there.

“It’s nothing.” He said. Hermione gave him a look and he grimaced a little. “Can I teach you the
sword moves I learnt in Asgard?”

“The ones you picked up from Tyr?” She asked eagerly. Both of them had come down to the gym
early before the adults were meant to show up because Hermione wanted to ‘warm-up’. She was
eager and perhaps a bit nervous. Both of them had been training under the cover of night without
any adults present. Who knew if they’d even been teaching themselves the right thing? Harry
figured they were both pretty average at this sort of thing, they’d need as much training and help as
they could get.

Harry didn’t know when his dad and the others were going to come down. His dad had gone back
to Asgard to pick up a few things. Books, Harry assumed, as his dad had worked through the
majority that he’d first picked up. It was strange to think that his dad was going to Asgard for an
hour two as an errand as if Asgard wasn’t an entirely different planet.

“Yeah.” He said motioning to the two training swords that his dad had brought back from Asgard.
“Come on, grab the smaller one and I’ll show you.”

She rushed forward and grabbed the smaller sword. He asked to see if it felt okay in her hand and
she nodded.

“Just show me already.”

“Okay. So basically it’s this block.” Harry began. “You hold the sword like this.”

He started showing Hermione exactly what he’d learnt in Asgard and she followed him. He
corrected her stance, having her spread her feet out a bit wider so she was more stable, and then
rearranged her hold on the sword handle. Once that was done, he had her repeat the movements
he’d learnt with the other trainees. It took about fifteen minutes until she insisted they try it out on
each other.

“Alright.” Harry said. “Let’s have a sword fight I guess. I’m gonna be as careful as I can. I think
I’ve got my strength under control…I hope.”

“It’ll be fine.” Hermione said sounding far more confident than Harry actually felt.

The two of them moved so that they were facing each other, about 4 feet apart. Harry counted
down to three and once he reached one, his friend stepped forward with a swing. Harry lifted his
sword and blocked the blow. It felt too light compared to what the trainees had done, and Harry
immediately tempered his strength, trying to match his friend’s. Hermione stepped back and began
to circle him. Harry did the same to her.

Clang!

Crash!

Crack!

The two swords filled the room with a cacophony of noise as Hermione tried multiple different
attacks with Harry merely defending against each of them. They continued to circle each other.

“Are you going to tell me what your problem is?” Hermione asked causing Harry to stumble a
little. She took that opportunity to slash at him. Harry forced himself onto the ground and rolled out
of the way. He jumped up, sword at the ready and Hermione swung at him again.

“There’s no problem.”

“Harry.” She said sternly. Harry looked away and then sighed for a moment.

“Your parents don’t like me.”

“I think they’re more upset with me than you.” Hermione said blocking Harry’s swing, her face
grimacing at the force.

“Sorry. Too much?”

“Maybe just a bit.” She admitted, they both stepped back and Hermione shook her right hand trying
to get rid of the ringing pain. “Let’s try it again.”

Harry gave her a look and she pursed her lips. Right. She lifted her sword again and Harry swung
down, trying to be as gentle as possible. Their swords clanged together and Hermione didn’t even
looked pained. That was good.

“So you’re upset about my parents?”

“Well they’re right to hate me, aren’t they?” Harry asked. “I’m no good for you.”

“What are you talking about? Harry you’re my best friend.” Hermione told him as she attempted to
stab him right in the stomach.

“Yeah. Exactly.” Harry said as he jumped out of the way and moved his sword almost
perpendicular to the floor to push Hermione’s sword away. “If it weren’t for me you’d…”

“I’d what?” She interrupted then jumped forward and swung down towards his shoulder. Harry
lifted up his sword and blocked, doing his best not to leave his side too open. “I’d be miserable and
lonely?”

“You’ve got other friends.” He argued.

“Yes but you were my first, without you I wouldn’t have made any others.”

“Yeah you would’ve.” Harry told her. “You’re great, it just took people a while to see it.”

Hermione gave him a look as she blocked his counter blow and thrust out her sword again. Harry
parried her thrust and continued the sword fight.

“Harry. What is this really about?” Hermione asked.

“You could die cause of me.” Harry said as he dodged another one of Hermione’s swings. His
friend was starting to sweat and get frustrated. “If we weren’t friends then you wouldn’t be…you
know fighting this war.”

“Not everything is about you.” She snapped swinging her sword extra hard. Harry blanched at her
tone and blocked the swing again.
“Hermione. I’m serious.”

“So am I. Do you really think that I wouldn’t be fighting if it weren’t for you? Do you honestly
believe that everything I do is because of you?”

“Well I…” Harry knew based on the look in her eye that nothing he said would be the right answer.
He jumped to the left and made a half hearted slash at Hermione’s side. She blocked it.

“The Death Eaters want to kill my parents and enslave me.” She said. “They’ll probably kill me
because I’m too smart to fit in with their beliefs of blood superiority. I am fighting because they are
wrong. I want to defend the world just as much as you do Harry and it’s got nothing to do with
you.”

She finished that with an angry slash at his neck that Harry barely dodged. He gulped feeling a
little bit embarrassed at his friend’s censure.

“I’m sorry.” He said blocking Hermione’s next swing. “I just…what if He comes after you because
of me?”

“Then he chose to do that. You didn’t make him.” Hermione said stepping to the right and
swinging at Harry’s partially unguarded midsection. Harry yelped as the sword came close to
cleaving him in two. Fear swamped his system and he stiffened. He closed his eyes, something
sparked in his chest, and then he felt very suddenly as if he were being compressed into the size of
a nail head. Then he felt himself falling flat on his back.

“Harry?” Hermione shouted, dropping her sword with a clatter.

Harry opened his eyes to see that he was on the other side of the room from Hemione, where he’d
been standing there were now two spots of bright purple flame. His friend jumped over the flames
and rushed over to him.

“Did I just…teleport?” He asked, his head spinning. Hermione knelt next to him looking for any
injuries or missing limbs. “I didn’t know I could do that.”

“Harry, are you okay?”

“‘M fine.” He said. “Really. Why is there fire over there?”

“I don’t know.” She said. “You disappeared in a big plume of it right before I hit you with my
sword. Oh I’m so sorry.

“No. I was too focused on not hitting you too hard. I should’ve been better at blocking. Besides. I
didn’t get hurt.”

After a bit Hermione let Harry get up and go over to the slowly dwindling flames. The purple color
was mesmerizing. Had this come from him? Carefully he placed his feet over the flames trying to
stomp them out before the fire alarms went off. He kept his feet over the ground, it felt strange
even through his shoes, once the flames were out and looked over at his friend.

“So. Apparently I light on fire sometimes now?”

“I don’t think it’s that.” Hermione said. “Maybe it’s some sort of Asgardian thing? Have you seen
your dad do anything with fire?”

“Uhm. I think he’s the god of fire actually.”

“I thought he was the god of mischief?”

“He’s the god of lots of things.”

“Well, maybe you inherited some sort of elemental power from him then.”

“But fire that makes me teleport?”

“Well I don’t know!” She said. “One moment you were about to get cut in half and then you were
on fire!”

“What’s this about fire?” Thor asked.

Hermione and Harry both made little ‘eeping’ noises and turned around to see his dad, uncle,
Remus, and Sirius standing in the doorway looking suspicious. His dad looked at the sword in
Harry’s hand and the one at Hermione’s feet and frowned.

“What were you two doing?”

“I was just trying to show Hermione the sword move I learnt in Asgard.” Harry said. “No one got
hurt or anything.”

“Yes. But then why were you talking about fire?”

“I almost hit Harry.” She said. “And then he…teleported? But it didn’t look at all like how I’ve
seen other magic users do it. There was this fire…”

Hermione trailed off at the look of absolute devastation on his dad’s face. Even Thor looked upset.

“Dad?”

“I missed it?” He asked.

“Missed what?”

“Did you do magic that caused some fire?” He asked.

“Uhm. Yes?”

“What’s wrong Prongs?” Sirius asked.

“That’s…it’s his first flame! I missed his first flame! That’s…It’s one of the most important
milestones for an Asgardian magic user and I didn’t get to see it! It’s like missing his first steps
or…or not being there for his first day of school! I can’t believe I missed it!” His dad whined
stepping towards Harry. “I’m so sorry Starlight. I should’ve been here.”

“It’s…fine? I mean it was a little weird but I didn’t get hurt or anything.” Harry said trying to
comfort his dad.

“Where is it?” Loki asked. “The flame? Don’t tell me it’s gone out yet! I couldn’t have been gone
that long.”

“You mean the left-over flames?” Hermione asked looking down at where Harry’s feet were. His
dad followed the look and made an agonized sound.

“You stomped out your flame?”

“I…the ground was on fire! What was I supposed to do?” His dad made another pained noise and
Harry wondered what he’d done wrong. Thor stepped forward and placed a comforting hand on
Loki’s shoulder.

“Harry.” He said. “When an Asgardian magic user uses their magic for the first time it creates a
flame of a unique color. This flame, called the first flame, is considered a nearly sacred thing for
the sorcerer. Traditionally your flame would have burned for hours on its own power while we
feasted and celebrated in your honor. The longer the flame burns on its own the more powerful you
are. Your father’s own flame burnt for more than a week before sputtering out.”

“You’re not supposed to put it out.” Loki said.

“Well I didn’t know!”

“No. I know you didn’t. I’m sorry I should have told you… explained…”

Harry stepped forward towards his dad, wondering how to comfort him over something that he still
didn’t quite understand. Behind him Hermione gasped and he turned a little to see that the two
pools of flame had sputtered back to life now that his feet were no longer directly on top of them.
His dad gave a cry of triumph and jumped forward so that he was kneeling right next to the flames.

“Oh Starlight. It’s beautiful.”

“It’s nice.” Sirius decided. “Don’t you think Moony?”

“Why is it purple?” Harry asked while Remus started to nod along and compliment Harry on
something none of the humans in the room actually understood.

“It’s not just purple.” His dad said as if Harry had said something insulting. “Look at it.”,

Sure, enough when Harry looked at it again he noticed there were other colors that appeared on the
flickering tongues of the fire. Carefully he knelt down next to his dad. Hermione fell next to him,
her face open in wonder.

“Is this a manifestation of Harry’s magical core?”

“Just so.” His dad answered sounding pleased Hermione had spotted it.

“So that’s…me?” Harry asked.

“It’s your magic, a pure form of it.” Hermione corrected. “I imagine that each color inside of it
reflect a part of your personality or maybe what sort of magic you’re best suited for.”

His friend continued to talk about what she’d read about magical cores and color symbolism and
Harry did his best to follow along. But most of his mind was focused on the two foot-print shaped
pools of fire. It was primarily an attractive royal purple but there were twisting tips of greens,
golds, and whites within it. Harry thought it was very pretty. Hermione clearly had much loftier
ideas.

“You’re correct of course.” His dad said to Hermione. “Each color does have its own unique
symbolism but this is Asgardian magic and I’m afraid that the human books you’ve read won’t
have covered the Asgardian meanings accurately.”

“Well then what do they mean?” Remus asked.

“Every color corresponds to a branch of magic.” His dad answered. “For instance, green which is
my own main color is connected to transfigurations and shapeshifting. I’m quite good at all manner
of transfigurations as you two well know.”

Sirius and Remus both grinned. His dad continued.

“My magic also tends to have gold and blue colors within it. Gold is connected to charms and blue
is more elemental type magic.” His dad said.

“So, I’ve got green and gold too.” Harry said. “What about the purple and white?”

“White is enchantment magic. You know the sort of magic that goes into that broom you’re so
fond of.” His dad said grinning at him. “But it’s the purple that’s truly special.”

“Well what is it?”

“The last time someone had purple as their main color was Indunn, goddess of life.” Loki said.
“This is soul magic.”

“Isn’t that…dark magic?” Hermione asked.

“Dark magic?”

“Like necromancy.” She clarified making Harry blanch.

“It’s not like that.” His dad denied. “Or well it is, but there’s more to it than that. Harry, Starlight,
this is likely why you were able to survive the killing curse.”

“What?”

“That spell is a form of soul magic. In essence the spell forcibly separates the soul from the body.
The reason it’s unblockable is that very few people in the universe have a magical ability to
counter its power. I can’t believe this didn’t occur to me before.” His dad said.

“So, I can do magic with souls? How is that not dark magic?”

“Harry.” Sirius said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Think about it for a minute. If you can use
magic to hurt then what else can you do with it?”

“But I…”

“You can heal. Hell kid, I bet you could stop Dementors.” He said. “Remember? You already did
it once.”

Harry started to smile while his dad demanded to know when his son had faced dementors. Sirius
and Remus both told him not to worry about it, which of course made him worry more. Harry
decided to focus back on the flames.

“So, do were just leave this here?” Harry asked.

“No. We’ll carefully move it to a sconce where we’ll count down the days until it burns out.” His
dad said. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten that apparently you’ve fought off dementors.”

“Dad you saw me cast a patronous. Why do you think I know how to do that?”

“Extra Credit?”
Harry snorted at the very idea while Remus laughed and ruffled both his and his dad’s hair.

“Nope. I was his professor that year and I can tell you with full confidence that Harry has never nor
will he ever, do extra credit.”

“It’s true.” Hermione confirmed.

“Well…Either way we should have a celebration.”

Harry grimaced at the idea of a party being thrown in his honor. He didn’t even like to go to the
quidditch win parties if people made a big deal out of what he did for too long.

“I…well we don’t have to.” He started. “It’s not that big of a deal and besides we were gonna train
today.”

His dad sighed and looked back down at the purple flame for a moment.

“Starlight. Your mother and I never had a proper wedding celebration because she kept putting it
off in the name of the war effort. I regret every day not having made sure she was given the
celebration she deserved. I do not want to allow Tom Riddle to take away any sort of happiness we
can have.”

“Harry.” Hermione said seriously. “It’ll be fine. We can start training tomorrow.”

Harry swallowed a little as he thought about that and finally made a decision.

“We can’t have a party without Ron.”

“Then let’s go get him!” Thor declared. “Come on brother. We’ve a party to plan and a guest to
retrieve!”

Sirius whooped in excitement and even Remus grinned.

“You hear that pup? It’s PARTY TIME!”

 Ron the Remarkable
Chapter Summary

Back in Britain things are heating up and Ron is left alone to face the entire Order.

Chapter Notes

Eyyy! Another update! This is the last one before school starts up again. Next week,
your girl has classes again. Hopefully I should be able to keep the update schedule the
same as what I had in the summer but who knows? I might need to change things up
just make sure I don't go crazy. I'll let you all know.

Ron sighed as he chased down yet another garden gnome. Degnoming the garden was only fun
when there was someone else around to do it with him. But of course, Fred and George had run
away to their new shop in Diagon Alley, Percy had caused that huge giant rift in the family and
was currently living on his own as well. And Ginny? Ginny never had to degnome the garden.
Forget Bill and Charlie, even if they were in town, which they weren’t, then they’d have gotten out
of doing the work too.

Aside from the phone calls he got from Harry and the owls he got from Hermione, Ron was mostly
left alone. His parents were both busy with Order work and Ginny was spending a lot of her
summer time with Luna. It had just ended up that Ron was mostly forgotten in all the commotion.
It didn’t bother Ron as much as it perhaps should have. He was used to being the last thing thought
of at home.

It wasn’t that his parents didn’t love him. Ron, after meeting Harry’s uncle and aunt, knew very
well that his parents loved him. His mum always made him a sweater for Christmas and made sure
he had enough to eat. She’d give him a hug anytime he wanted (and often enough when he didn’t).
His dad was always willing to help him with his homework or play chess with him. His dad gave
excellent advice and did his best to make sure Ron knew that he was proud of him.

So yes. Ron’s parents loved him. They understood him as best they could too. His mother knew
what would annoy him and what wouldn’t. She’d finally stopped making him maroon jumpers
when she’d gotten the money to buy a different yarn. They knew his favorite foods and activities.
They asked about his grades and his friends, although that was partially because he knew that his
parents loved Harry and Hermione, but also because they loved him and cared about what he cared
about.

But his parents also tended to forget about him. Ron wasn’t the oldest boy, Bill, who’d done
everything first and done it well. He wasn’t the second oldest, who’d spent his time at Hogwarts
outdoing everything Bill had done and then gone on to take a job that stressed his mum out so
much that she still fretted thinking about it at times. Ron certainly wasn’t Percy, who even before
this whole family drama, had been the smartest and most studious. Percy managed to bring home
the best grades every year and every year it allowed his parents to gush about him. Ron wasn’t
much like Fred and George either, the twins who’d taken one look at mischief and had never
looked back.

Ron wasn’t even like Ginny, the girl and the youngest.

Ron was just Ron.

Not particularly gifted in school. Not on the quidditch team. He didn’t go out of his way to make
trouble (although he did manage to get into quite a bit of it courtesy of Harry). Ron wasn’t loud at
home or all that noticeable. It was impossible to be. He’d been competing for his parents’ attention
for his whole life and he’d always come in dead last. It didn’t mean his parents loved him any less,
it just meant that Ron got less of them. Their love was constant but sporadically expressed.

The only thing that allowed Ron to stick out was his friendship with Harry and Hermione. Harry
was world famous and drew attention to him wherever he went like he was cursed with an attention
charm. Hermione was probably the smartest person in the whole world. (And the prettiest his mind
reminded him). Even in his own friend group Ron was the least noticed, the most forgotten.

It bothered him. It had bothered him as an 11 year old when he’d looked into the Mirror of Erised,
it bothered him when he was 13 and the attempt on his life by Sirius Black had been brushed over
in favor of Harry, it had bothered him when Harry had his name come out of the goblet of fire. It
bothered him now as he worked in the garden alone. Ron knew he shouldn’t be bothered. In
comparison to so many people his life was quite ideal. He had a loving family and while things had
been tight money wise for most of his life he had never gone without things he needed.

Ron should be grateful.

And he was! And yet…

Ron picked up a gnome and flung it as hard as he could out of the garden. He heard the whooshing
of the floo system and then the footsteps of his parents.

“I can’t believe this!” His mother cried, her voice breaking and frantic.

“I’m sure it’s going to be just fine.” His dad tried to comfort. “They’ll find him.

“RON!” His mother called. “RONALD WEASLEY GET IN HERE RIGHT NOW!”

“Coming!” Ron answered, his heart sinking as he correctly guessed what he was being called in
for. It certainly wasn’t his mother calling him in to thank him for taking care of the garden without
being asked. He jumped up over the garden fence and then hopped up the steps. His parents were
standing in the living room, a look of fear and stress in their eyes. He froze at the sight of Albus
Dumbledore standing next to his parents.

Ron had to stop himself form flinging himself at the old man. A tide of rage washed through him
and he wanted to punch Dumbledore. But he couldn’t, not in front of his mum.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

“Oh it’s terrible!” His mother said. “Harry’s gone missing!”

“What?” Ron asked doing his best to look shocked and horrified. To be honest he was a little
shocked, he hadn’t thought anyone would bother to check up on his friend at all. Not like they’d
done it in the past, checking up on Harry had always been Ron’s job.
“The headmaster noticed a problem with the Blood Wards.” His dad explained. “They’re weakened
to the point of being basically nothing. He went to Harry’s home to investigate and discovered that
Harry hadn’t come home from the train station.”

“Mr. Weasley.” Dumbledore said his blue eyes twinkling in the way that Ron had previously
thought was cool and not at all devious. “Please tell me if you’ve heard from Harry.”

Ron had been careful not to take calls from Harry when his parents weren’t around. He inwardly
flailed a little before speaking.

“I…It’s only been a few weeks, I figured he hadn’t owled back because of the whole Sirius thing.”
Ron scrambled around trying to justify not having spoken to his best friend in that long. “Besides. I
wasn’t sure if I was allowed to talk to him much, after what you told me last summer and all…”

His parents’ faces broke and Ron wanted to apologize, to tell them the truth. Even Dumbledore
looked disappointed.

“He’s not dead.” He argued, sounding desperate. “If he was dead wouldn’t the wards be totally
broken?”

“You’re right.” His dad said trying to give him a comforting look. “But we don’t know where he
is.”

“Nobody?” Ron asked. “Wouldn’t Snape know if Harry got kidnapped?”

“Professor Snape” His mum corrected. “is certain that You-Know-Who hasn’t taken Harry. But
that doesn’t mean that someone else hasn’t! Oh he could be anywhere! Being tortured or starved.”

Ron cringed at his mother’s agony which his parents read as him cringing at the idea of Harry
being in pain. Ron knew Harry was fine, better than fine. But he couldn’t say that. He couldn’t.
Not when Dumbledore was here. Not when it was the headmaster’s fault that his best friend had
ever been anything less than fine.

“Molly. Would you and Arthur mind giving me some privacy? Perhaps I can help young Mr.
Weasley here remember any important details about the last time he spoke with Harry.”

“Of course!” His mother said. “We’ll…we’ll just get some tea together, you two come into the
kitchen whenever you’re ready.”

And then his mother bustled off with his father in tow, neither of them even thinking for once that
Ron would rather claw his own eyes out than be left alone in a room with Albus Dumbledore. Ron
shifted a little awkwardly and coughed into his hand. The headmaster just looked at him.

“Let’s take a seat.” The headmaster suggested, motioning to the well loved couches Ron had spent
his childhood crawling over. In that moment those golden memories of childhood seemed far
away. When had he stopped seeing himself as a child? Ron sat down in one couch across from
Dumbledore and did his best to suppress his anger, his hate, for the man in front of him.

“Would you indulge me in a game of chess? I so rarely get the chance to play.” Dumbledore said
motioning to the hand-me-down set his dad had gifted him on his eleventh birthday, the set he’d
taught Harry and Hermione how to play on.

“Okay.” Ron said. Dumbledore smiled and waved a hand, wandlessly conjuring a table between
the two of them. Ron grabbed the box and carefully set up the game, focusing on the grumbling of
his pieces instead of Dumbledore’s piercing stare. “You’re white.”
He offered the opening salvo to the man before him. Ron didn’t need the advantage. Dumbledore
smiled and ordered the movement of a pawn. At first they didn’t talk, just looked at the board and
made their moves. Ron had never played against Dumbledore. The closest he had ever come to
playing against someone like him was when he was eleven. Granted he had technically been
playing against McGonagall at the time but he had a feeling Dumbledore had had a hand in that
giant chess room.

Ron had won then and as frightened and angry as he was at the man in front him, he didn’t doubt
he couldn’t win now.

“I know that you might be feeling frightened.”

“What?”

“The attack on the ministry was frightening, you were hurt quite badly.” The headmaster said
motioning a little to the scars on Ron’s arms he’d gotten from those freaky brain tentacle things in
the Department of Mysteries.

“I guess.” Ron shrugged choosing not to think about that.

“And poor Sirius was killed, when you and the others went through so much effort to save him.
You’re young and I can’t imagine how difficult dealing with all of this must be.”

Ron wanted to ask Dumbledore where his compassionate voice had been when he’d told Harry the
prophecy. Ron didn’t want his compassion, he didn’t need it. And now neither did Harry.

“I’m alright.” Ron said instead. “‘M worried about Harry.”

“Of course you are.” He said before ordering a knight to move. Ron looked down at the board his
eyebrows furrowed before he guessed at the man’s potential strategy. He made his own move,
sending a bishop forward just a bit. “Which is why I’m sure you’d tell me if you knew anything.”

“I don’t.” Ron lied not looking the man in the eye, suddenly very aware that the headmaster knew
legilimency.

“What did you and Harry last talk about?”

“His dad.” Ron said truthfully. “and his mum too I guess.”

Something flashed in the headmaster’s visage a little and Ron swallowed.

“I mean.” Ron continued. “He was just sad that he didn’t know them and it was about Sirius too, he
just keeps losing people.”

Dumbledore’s face cleared up immediately and Ron inwardly sighed in relief. A few more moves
passed in a tense silence before Dumbledore tried again.

“So his parents. Was there anything else? Anything at all, it doesn’t matter how silly you think it
is.”

“Well we talked about the prophecy a bit.” Ron said shifting in his seat. “But you already know
about that.”

“He told you?”

“Me and Hermione, he was scared.” Ron hoped Harry would forgive him for revealing that little
tidbit to Dumbledore. “Me and ‘Mione promised to be with him till the very end, no matter what.”

“That’s very good of you, Ron.” Dumbledore said. “Truly, you are a credit to your family.”

Ron flushed a little, feeling awkward at the compliment that he knew he shouldn’t want because of
the source.

“I’m being honest, dear boy.” Dumbledore pushed. “I’ve noticed how loyal you are to your friends,
I’m sure your parents are proud of you. I know I am.”

“Thanks headmaster.” Ron said right before having another one of his pieces move. The game was
progressing as Ron expected. Now that he knew what sort of man Dumbledore was, it was a lot
easier to see the sorts of plans he’d make on a chess board. Ron knew what sort of things
Dumbledore would do to a pawn now.

“I know this doesn’t have much to do with the topic at hand but I can’t help myself.” He said
happily. “You know I had a conversation with Minerva recently about how well you did as a
prefect last year.”

“What?”

“She was very impressed with you.” He confided. “And so am I. You’re a loyal, level headed
young man. We both think you’d make a good Head Boy, of course that’s years away now but I’ve
been doing this job for quite a long time and I’m good at predicting these sorts of things.”

Looking back at last summer Ron could remember how happy the prefect badge had made him.
How it had made him glow and his chest puff out with pride. He’d gotten new robes, new
everything from his parents to celebrate. For awhile things had been about him and how well he
was doing. It had been brilliant. His mind flashed to the vision he’d seen in the Mirror of Erised.

I’m the head boy! And the quidditch captain!

“Do you mean it?” Ron asked trying to inject that same excitement he’d felt five years ago at the
idea. Dumbledore beamed and Ron knew he’d managed it.

“I can’t think of any young man in your year who could do it better. Not even Harry, the poor boy
isn’t much of a leader, not like you.”

“Harry’s a great leader.” Ron said, only slightly snappish.

“Part of being a good leader is being willing to listen to others, to follow orders.” Dumbledore said.
“I’m not being cruel, no one loves Harry more than I, but I think you’re a far better fit for a
position like Head Boy.”

“Thanks.” Ron said trying not to feel awkward or anything. Wasn’t this conversation the sort of
thing he’d always wanted? To be noticed? To stand out from anyone else in his life?

“Of course.” Dumbledore said. “Now don’t go telling anyone, this is just between you and I for
now. We’re not supposed to be making decisions about Head Boy and Girl until much later.”

“Right. I won’t tell, not even Harry.”

“Good boy.”

Dumbledore made another move. The game was progressing quite quickly. Normally Ron would
take his time, drag a game out because it was fun, but it had only been 15 minutes of playing and
Ron just wanted to put the man in front of him into check. Ron could hear his father and mother
talking, comforting each other over their worry for Harry. He glanced over at the hallway that led
to the kitchen and Dumbledore followed his eyes.

“I know you must be feeling quite forgotten these past few weeks.”

“Huh?”

“Your parents have been ever so busy with the Order and your brothers have all left The Burrow.
And Harry’s been ignoring you too.” Dumbledore told him. “I imagine it must be very lonely.”

“It’s fine.” Ron said. “It’s all important stuff you know? I can handle myself.”

“Of course, you can. I just want you to know that I notice you, I know how talented you are, how
loyal.” Dumbledore told him. “You’ll be a great asset to the Order when you’re of age. You
practically already are! I trust you implicitly dear boy.”

A year ago, hell even a month ago, Ron would have jumped at the chance to be spoken to like this.
Dumbledore was looking at him like he mattered, like he was important and useful, just because of
who he was, not because of his brothers or because of Harry. He’d be squirming in his seat to do
anything the headmaster asked him to do. It was that same devotion that had kept Ron from writing
to Harry last summer. It was the devotion that had died the moment Harry had called him and told
him the truth.

Now all Dumbledore’s words did was leave a rotten taste in his mouth.

Ron looked down and ordered another move. The chess board was already littered with the stone
bodies of crushed pieces, both his and the headmaster’ss. From an outside perspective it was clear
that Ron had lost more pieces, in fact it looked as if Dumbledore would be putting him into check
within three moves. Ron knew better.

“I’m sorry headmaster.” Ron said. “I wish I could help you find Harry but I don’t know. He didn’t
say he wasn’t going home. On the train we just talked about how scary it all was and how much he
missed Sirius and his parents.”

Dumbledore barely hid his frown as he ordered another move, he moved his queen exactly where
Ron suspected he would. Ron held back a grin.

“Are you certain dear boy? There’s nothing at all you can tell me?”

Ron ordered his knight forward. The little horse riding soldier galloped forward across the board
and stopped right in front of the king. The king looked around at the board, removed his sword and
knelt down in surrender.

“No sir.” Ron said firmly before holding out his hand. “Good game though.”

Dumbledore took his hand and shook it, a brittle smile on his face.

“Yes. Good game.” He agreed, letting go of Ron’s hand and standing up. “I must be going, I need
to start the search for young Harry as quickly as possible. Do apologize to your parents for my
leaving without having some tea.”

“Course.” Ron said. Dumbledore disappeared from Ron’s living room with a crack. Almost
immediately Ron fell back into the couch, his face pale and his limbs shaking. “Blimey. That was
bad.”

That evening Ron’s parents left right after dinner for another Order meeting. Ron was only grateful
his mum had charmed the dishes to do themselves. He considered calling his friend to tell him
what had happened now that he was alone but he decided against it. He had no idea if he was being
watched or spied on now. He had to be very, very careful on how he contacted his friends.

The next two days were stressful around The Burrow. His parents came back from that meeting
suspicious and strained. They were worried sick about Harry and Ron had no doubt that
Dumbledore had talked to his parents personally about him. Suddenly he seemed to have his
parents’ full attention. No longer was his mum spending her free evenings bemoaning Percy’s
betrayal or the twins’ silliness. His dad didn’t spend his time tinkering in the garage.

Both of them were watching him now, focused as hard as they could, to see if Ron would give up
the game. His mum asked frequently if he’d heard from Harry and his dad told him that no matter
what they’d always forgive him.

“You’re our son and I know you always do what you think is right. You can trust us, son.”

But could he? Could he truly? Were his parents more loyal to Dumbledore or to Harry? His parents
never let Harry stay with them at the Burrow as much as they should have because of Dumbledore.
His parents knew that the Dursleys were mean to Harry, that they didn’t feed him enough, that they
locked him up and they supported Dumbledore leaving Harry there anyway. His mum had known
about the prophecy, had known it was about Harry, even if she didn’t know the wording, and
decided to follow Dumbledore’s edict on secrecy instead of trusting Harry.

Ron had never wondered if he could trust his parents. The doubt, the fear, ate at him. At night he’d
lay in his bed and wonder if he was really choosing his family, the people who had raised him,
clothed him, and loved him from birth, for Harry. The tattoo he’d kept hidden on his wrist itched
and reminded him that Harry was just as much his family as any other Weasley. But if they were
both family how could he possibly choose one over the other?

His parents weren’t bad people! They were doing what they thought was right! They’d joined the
Order, risked their lives and everything else to stop You-Know-Who! His parents had defied
hundreds of years of Pureblood tradition to stand for muggle and squib rights. They’d been labeled
blood traitors and ostracized for it. Ron knew his parents were good people and he loved them.

But Harry? Harry was his best mate. A brother unlike the five he actually had. Even with the fights
and disagreements they’d had over the years, there was no one Ron trusted more. And in the end
that meant that Ron couldn’t ever betray Harry. Not when he knew Harry was happy with his dad,
that he was finally getting to eat as much as he needed every day. Not when Harry was finally
getting the hugs and support that Ron had taken for granted his entire life.

Being firm in his choice of loyalty didn’t mean he still didn’t feel guilt. As the days passed his
family grew more worried and frantic. The entire Order was being run amok trying to find a single
hint as to where Harry Potter was. There were plenty Order members who came by to ask Ron if he
had any ideas, any clues. Ron denied them all.

Well he denied them all up until Fred and George knocked on his bedroom door.

Ron had been writing out a letter to Hermione, one he knew he wouldn’t send, when the twins
rushed up the stairs. Ron frantically shoved the letter under his pillow and managed to get it
hidden right as George burst in, Fred not a moment behind.
“Well if it isn’t Ickle Ronnikins!”

“Our Ittle Baby Brother seems to be growing up!”

“What do you two want?”

“We’ve heard on the grape vine.”

“Or perhaps it’s a birdy we heard it from.”

“That you dear brother.”

“Have been causing some trouble.”

Ron scowled at the two brothers and folded his arms over chest.

“Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Truly. Almost started to think you were a lost cause.”

“What with that prefect thing.”

“And all the studying you do.”

“But no! You proved us wrong!”

“You got that right! Our Little Ron is finally coming into his own.”

“What are you two on about?” Ron demanded. “Because if you’re here to be annoying then go
away.”

“Oh, don’t be like that.” Fred said sitting down on the foot of Ron’s bed.

“Really, we’re happy for you.” George added sitting down on Ron’s chair.

“Mum came by the shop! Actually, stepped foot inside the doors.”

“Thought it’d take her at least a decade to even look at the place, if I’m honest.”

“She came in to talk to us of all things!”

“Not to nag us, or beg us to change our minds about our NEWTS.”

“Nope! She wanted to talk about you.”

“Apparently she thinks you’re lying, up to no good.”

“Keeping secrets even!”

“Dangerous things secrets.”

“Will you two just get to the point?” Ron interrupted. He didn’t want to deal with their nonsense
right then. He was tired and hungry and feeling more alone than he’d ever felt in his life. His tone
made the twins pause. Carefully they looked at him and then at each other.

“You okay Ron?”

“My best friend is…is missing. What do you think?”

“Don’t try and lie to us.” George said. “Remember the last time you tried that? When you tried to
take dad’s car on your own to go save Harry?”

“We saw through it.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Ron.” Ron closed his eyes against that tone. He was leaning up against the wall, his legs splayed
out on the bed. Above them the ghoul rattled, perhaps in sympathy.

“I can’t tell you.”

“Harry could be in trouble, we’ll go save him with you. Just like we did last time.” Fred promised.
“Just tell us.”

“No.” Ron said.

“Oh come on. Don’t make us bring out the spiders.”

“Go ahead! I don’t care. I’m not telling.”

That made the twins seriously pause to consider things. Never before had the threat of conjuring
spiders not made Ron cave and tell them whatever it was that was bothering him. It was a foolproof
method of getting Ron to open up. But not this time. No. Ron wouldn’t betray Harry for anything.
The twins were starting to look concerned and Ron swallowed.

“We rescued him.” Ron said. “And we found him locked up and hungry and dirty and…it was
awful!”

“Yeah, yeah it was.”

“And they just sent him back again! And again! Even though we told them it was bad.”

“I know. We hate it too.” George said.

“I’m not letting him go back.” Ron said stubbornly. “Never. If I tell then Dumbledore will find out
and…It’s just not happening.”

“So you do know where he is?”

Ron hardened his jaw and looked away. He didn’t want to cry. To admit that keeping this from his
parents, making his family worry themselves sick, had been eating him alive. Fred carefully
reached out and placed a hand on Ron’s knee. Ron sniffed and ran his arm over his eyes, rubbing
them clear.

“Just go away.”

“He’s our friend too you know.” George said. “We don’t want him to go back to the Dursleys
either, not if he’s found someplace better.”

“Yeah.” Fred agreed seriously. “I know we joke a lot Ron but we’re not messing with you. We
won’t tell a soul, not even mum and dad if that’s what it takes to keep Harry safe.”

“You’d choose Harry over mum and dad?” Ron asked his voice shaking.
“Course.” George said easily.

“The way we see it?”

“Harry needs us way more than mum does.”

Ron’s will wavered, he looked at his brothers, their brown eyes sincere in a way they rarely were.
He swallowed the knot that had formed in his throat and spoke.

“He’s in New York City.”

“That’s pretty far away.” Fred said.

“Why’d he go there?”

Before Ron could answer the question he heard a rock being flung against his window. Ron yelped
and jumped up, his brothers not far behind. His brothers gasped in shock at the sight of Loki, god
of mischief, standing in their backyard with a grin on his face, Harry right next to him.

“Uhm.” Ron said. “That’s why.”

 Becoming an Acolyte in One Easy Step
Chapter Summary

The twins meet their idol.

Chapter Notes

School has begun and so has my suffering!!! Woo!!! Please send me some good vibes.
Thanks for the brilliant comments last week!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The twins apparated down from Ron’s room directly in front of Harry and his dad. Harry only
jumped a little, far too used to the twins antics to be even a little bit shocked. Of course he was
shocked a second later when Fred pulled him from his dad’s side and into a hug while George
bodily moved between them and pulled his wand on his dad.

“Harry, stay back. We got this.” George said, eyes narrow. His dad had lifted up both hands in a
show of peace and surrender but Harry knew better than to be fooled. His dad was still just as
armed as he had been a moment before.

“I don’t know who you are but you’ve got a lot of nerve coming here.” Fred said.

“Guys?” Harry said. “He’s with me.”

Both twins froze for a moment and then immediately the tension eased. Harry was no longer being
shoved into Fred’s chest and George immediately pocketed his wand.

“Well why didn’t you say so?”

“Yeah it’s almost like you wanted us to make idiots of ourselves?”

“Oh cruelty thy name is Harry.”

“I’ve never been so embarrassed.”

Harry rolled his eyes and walked back over to his dad’s side. His dad quirked an eyebrow at him
and Harry just nodded a little to promise that this was normal.

“And who is he then?” George asked.

“Honestly Harry don’t you have any manners?”

“I’m sure our mum taught you better than that.”

“Or perhaps not.”

“This.” Harry interrupted the twins, he had been planning on saying it was his dad but the look on
the twins’ faces made him abruptly reconsider. “is Prongs.”

“Did he just say?”

“I think he must have.”

“It couldn’t be.”

The twins looked up at his dad with awe in their faces. His dad, thankfully caught on, and he spoke
in a very regal and serious tone.

“I solemnly swear I am up to no good.”

Fred fell to his knees while George gasped and reached out. Both of them, of course they did, had
tear in their eyes.

“We are not worthy.”

“Sir, we are but humble acolytes.”

Harry grinned as the twins continued to practically prostrate themselves at his dad’s feet.

“They found the Marauder’s Map when they were first years. Stole it out of Filch’s office and
everything.”

“Ah. Two boys after my own heart I see.” His dad said. “I do hope you put it to good use?”

The twins nodded and started talking over each other to explain exactly how good a use they put
that map too. The door to the backyard burst open and out came Ron, red faced. He stopped when
he saw there wasn’t any fighting going on and leaned forward to catch his breathe. He then made
his way over to their group at a more sedate place. He stopped right in front of his dad and held out
his hand.

“Nice to finally meet you, Loki.” He said before faltering. “Or did you want to be called…”

“Mr. Potter is just fine, Ron.” His dad said taking Ron’s hand. “And it is an honor to meet you.”

“Wait, did you say Loki?” George said.

“Did you say Potter?” Fred said, at the same time.

Loki grinned and straightened himself out.

“I am Loki, god of mischief.” He said. “I am also James Potter, Harry’s dad.”

Needless to say the twins needed a few moments to get their heads on straight after that reveal.
Harry and Ron both laughed at their shocked faces, he didn’t think he’d ever seen the twins at a
loss for words but here they were. Gaping like fish and staring at Loki like they couldn’t believe it.

“What” Fred eventually began.

“The fuck?” George finished.

“It’s a long story.” Harry started.

“I’ll tell you later.” Ron said. “Mate you can’t be here.”

“Why?”

“Dumbledore knows.” Ron said gravely. “He noticed that the Blood Wards were failing and went
to your relatives. The Entire Order is searching for you now to get you back to Surrey before the
wards break all the way.”

Harry’s stomach dropped and he clenched his jaw just a little. Before he could say anything his dad
placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and spoke seriously.

“They are not taking my son from me.” Loki said. “Not again. But you are right, Ron. Remaining
here is not in our best interest. Your parents are still in the Order right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then we should leave, at least for now.”

“We can go to the shop.” George offered.

“Yeah! It’s where we live now, it’s not open yet so it should be safe.” Fred added.

“It’s going to be a joke shop.” Harry told his dad. “The twins are brilliant with pranking supplies
and stuff. You’ll love it.”

“Well then how could I possibly refuse?”

“It’s 93 Diagon Alley.” Fred said. “We’ll take Ron and meet you there, yeah?”

“Do we need to get anything else?” Ron asked. Is there going to be a fight?

“Just your wand.” Harry said shaking his head. “And your broom if you want. It’s good news. Well
at least our stuff is.”

“But we need to know what’s been going on here.”

“I’ll tell you everything I know.” Ron promised.

Ten minutes later they were all inside the not yet open joke shop. Products lined the walls and
shelves and Fred and George were admirably showing off all their wonderful inventions to a
delighted Loki. Harry didn’t think he’d ever seen his dad this childishly delighted by anything in
his life before. The three pranksters were now talking about the various uses of the Insta-swamp
balls and Harry decided to leave them to it for a while.

“Ron. What’s been happening? You haven’t called me in a few days and I don’t want to call you
when your parents are around unless I have to.”

“Dumbledore came by. He knows I know where you are.” Ron said. “I didn’t tell him! Didn’t give
him a single clue, but he’s not stupid. There’s no way you’d go someplace without telling me.”

“Skiving Snack Boxes! That’s brilliant!”

Harry rolled his eyes at his dad’s interjection and then looked back at his friend. Ron looked
stressed, sort of like he did before their OWLs but worse somehow.

“What did Dumbledore do?”

And Ron told him. Harry listened as his friend revealed what the last few days had been like and
the full details of his one on one confrontation with Dumbledore. The description of the chess
match and Dumbledore’s attempted manipulation with the Head Boy promise chilled Harry to the
bone.

“He was there.”

“What?”

“That night when I showed you the mirror. He had to have been there.” Harry hissed. “How else
would he have known to bring you being Head Boy up?”

Ron grimaced and looked down at his feet.

“I’m sorry about that.”

“About what?”

“About wanting to be Quidditch Captain and Head Boy.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Harry you were standing there wanting to not be an orphan and all I wanted was some stupid titles
that don’t mean anything. It was stupid.”

“It wasn’t!” Harry denied. “You don’t need to feel bad for wanting that Ron. I only wanted my
parents because I didn’t want to be with my relatives anymore. When I found out my dad was alive,
the first thing I did was punch him. Neither of us really knew what we wanted.”

Ron huffed a laugh and then sniffed, rubbing his nose on the sleeve of his shirt.

“I just realized talking to Dumbledore that I don’t want to be Head Boy anymore. It’s not…what I
thought it was. And I’ve made a lot of…I’ve said things and done things to you and ‘Mione cause
of what I thought I wanted. And I’m sorry. I don’t really deserve being…I promise I’m not going to
do that again.”

Harry thought back to their fight in his fourth year and the other small tiffs they’d had over the
years due to Harry’s fame and fluctuating popularity. Harry also thought about how he’d also
lashed out at times, especially in the last year.

“Ron. Have you forgiven me for all the stupid stuff I said to you in the last year?”

“Course I have.” Ron said. “You were under a lot of pressure with your scar and Umbridge.”

“So if you can forgive me for being stupid and not trusting you as much as I should have, then why
can’t I forgive you for being a little jealous sometimes?”

That made Ron crack a grin.

“We were both pretty dumb huh?”

“Yeah. I don’t know what Hermione sees in either of us.”

They both giggled. In front of them his dad and the twins were looking at the various pranked
candies that the twins had invented and discussing new iterations that could be made on the
existing recipes.
“Why do I have a feeling introducing them was a mistake?”

“He’s already got Remus and Sirius.” Harry said. “It was already too late, unfair to keep the twins
from the party.”

“Sort of sad I’m not going to be your dad’s favorite Weasley.” Ron said in a joking wistful tone.
Harry elbowed him lightly in the side and grinned.

“You’re my favorite though.”

“Well that’s something at least.”

“Dad!” Harry called out. “We need to start talking business. Dumbledore’s bothering Ron.”

“What? What’s the old fool done now?”

Ron explained what he’d told Harry, although in slightly less detail, and Harry’s dad listened
seriously.

“Alright then. I suppose that means moving up the time table some. I had planned on waiting a few
more weeks before revealing myself to Dumbledore but I won’t have you suffer any longer Ron.”

“Can you explain why we don’t like Dumbledore anymore?”

“I’m all for it but having a reason is nice.”

Harry was the one to explain, telling them that Dumbledore had known his dad was alive and had
lied to the world about it while also lying to his dad about Harry, Sirius, and Remus being alive.
The twins took it with all the dramatics expected. They switched between cursing out Dumbledore
and promising revenge on the old man and listening to Harry raptly as he told them that Sirius was
alive and back on earth.

“Dumbledore wanted to make sure I stayed on earth and under his control because of the prophecy.
Ron’s been covering for me, I’m not going to go back to the Dursleys and I’m not going to let
Dumbledore control me anymore.” Harry finished.

“I, or should I say the Marauders, have a plan.” His dad said. “I need to return to The Order. If we
reveal immediately the truth, then Dumbledore will be disgraced and what few forces we do have
on earth will scatter. Until we have all the information Dumbledore’s been hiding, I can’t remove
him from our lives.”

“We’re in.” Fred said.

“Oh definitely. What do you need from us?”

“I’m going to return to the Order soon, within the week. I’d like you to help me drum up support.
People are bound to be suspicious of me, of the story I’ll concoct. The more people I have on my
side the less Dumbledore can do against me.” Loki said. “I already have Remus on my side of
course, Sirius too once he reveals he’s alive, but there are more and more Order members and
they’ve been following Dumbledore for a long time.” Loki said. “I’m sure you two can handle that
though.”

Fred and George immediately both saluted to their god and swore to do exactly that. Harry had no
doubt in his mind that’s what they saw his dad as. He was their god, the representation of what
they valued most. Harry grinned and stepped forward.
“So dad. What do you think of the shop?”

“It’s absolutely lovely.”

“It is pretty great.” Harry agreed. “It’s been a long time since you’ve had a temple yeah?”

His dad rolled his eyes while the twins both lit up in unholy glee.

“Forge!”

“Gred!”

“We need a shrine!”

“A shrine to our god!”

“A sacrificial fire to burn rubber chickens in!”

“Oh Your Grace, please forgive us for not preparing for your arrival.”

“Your highness! We meant no disrespect! We have built this humble store in thy name!”

“Silence!” His dad commanded, his voice solemn and serious. “I have seen thine works and I am
pleased by thine sacrifice. This place shall be my temple and you two my prophets. Ye shall preach
my gospel of mischief and trouble making with your moderately priced wares, this I so command.”

“We solemnly swear on all things no good that we will follow your word.”

“We will speak of you and we will teach of you.”

Harry and Ron were both holding their hands over their mouths trying not to laugh as Fred and
George swore their undying service and devotion to the god of mischief. Ron’s shoulders were
shaking with suppressed laughter. Unsurprisingly the three tricksters were taking the entire thing as
seriously as if it were a funeral. His dad even went so far as to place his hands on the twins’
foreheads and bless them. His hands glowed a bright green and the magic settled itself into the
twins. Harry had no idea what magic his dad had just done but he looked pleased with himself.

Once the prostrating and praying and blessing was done, Harry mentioned the fact that he had a
party to get to.

“That’s why we came to The Burrow, to invite you to my First Flame Party. It’s like an Asgardian
coming of age thing I guess.”

“Yes. Today is a day for celebration.” His dad declared. “We knew we couldn’t celebrate anything
for Harry without you there Ron.”

“I don’t know if I can go. Mum isn’t going to let me sneak out, especially not with the whole
Dumbledore thing.”

“We’ll cover for you.”

“Yeah Ickle Ronnikins, go have fun. As far as mummy knows.”

“You’ll be here with us!”

“Spilling your guts.”

Ron beamed and punched one of the twins in the arm as thanks. Harry grinned at the scene. He felt
clear headed as he stood in the joke shop. Not only had he and Ron had a good talk (those were
rare enough) but he’d had some time to think about what Hermione had been trying to tell him
before she’d almost chopped him in half. Some of the guilt that had taken hold of his heart since
Cedric’s death had lessened.

It wasn’t his fault.

But it was your idea to both take the cup.

Peter Pettigrew killed Cedric, he is the one to blame.

Cedric is only the beginning. Who will be killed next because of your ideas?

Harry hadn’t made Cedric take the cup and he wasn’t making his friends follow his ideas.

It wasn’t his fault.

He knew that tomorrow this argument might not be so easy to make. Merlin even a few hours from
now he might fall back into blaming himself and trying to pull away from his friends to protect
them. But thankfully his friends wouldn’t let him get away with it and Hermione was obviously
more than willing to lecture him on it repeatedly until it stuck in his head.

This war was not his fault. The people who had died, who were going to die in fact, were not his
burden to bear. Voldemort had begun this war, he was the one who had chosen to start it again.
None of this was on Harry. His chest felt as if it were expanding as he thought those words a few
more times. His shoulders straightened just a tad and he lifted himself to his full height.

“What are you smiling about?” His dad asked.

“I…I’m just happy.”

Of course the moment he admitted that, a searing pain ripped through his scar. Harry’s face
spasmed and his knees buckled. Ron recognized the attack for what it was immediately and
jumped forward helping lower him to the ground.

“Harry!”

His mind filled with flashes of rage and he held back the scream that was gurgling in his throat. He
felt hands slowly lowering him to the floor as his limbs started twitching wildly. Even though he
knew his eyes were screwed shut he still saw things. A bone white hand, a flashing wand, a mass
of dark robed figures. His ears filled with a cacophony of noises, his dad and Ron telling him to
calm down were mixing with snarled orders and plans.

Then, just as quickly as it started, it stopped.

“Harry?”

Harry opened his eyes to see that his dad had a hand on his scar, green magic sandwiched between
his hand and Harry’s forehead.

“Mate, you okay?”

“The…did you stop the vision?”

“I believe so.” His dad said. “I modified a spell designed to cease divination magic. Your situation
is not at all the same but it muted your connection at the very least.”

“What did you see?” Ron asked.

“Tom…He’s ordering an attack on…” Harry blinked a few times trying to make sense of the
swirling unclear vision. It was clear that Voldemort’s rage had opened up a small connection
between them, one that was highly accidental and unplanned. The whole thing had been disjointed
but eventually Harry seized upon the memory of a particularly silvery modern building. “On New
York!”

“What?” His dad asked. “Why?”

“In my last vision…He’d found out I’d been spotted in New York? Remember those Death Eaters
you took down for me?” Harry said. “He…he thought I was there to contact the American
Ministry.”

“Oh Odin.” His dad said. “We need to move, now. Fred, George. Contact the Order. Tell them that
New York is about to be attacked by Death Eaters and perhaps You-Know-Who himself.”

“Tell them I told you.” Harry said. “They’ll believe you and besides… It’s time to stop hiding.”

He’d had a few weeks of calm. Well not necessarily calm but he’d had time to recover. His magic
was at full strength and he’d been doing some training. More than that he had his dad. Everyone
scrambled to get ready to go. Ron made it clear he would be going with them to New York and
Harry didn’t argue. It was his friend’s choice. Of course the twins also volunteered to go.

“Here.” His dad said producing a portkey made out of a ribbon for the twins. “Once you’ve sent
out the message use this. It’ll take you to Avengers Tower and you can join us. Harry how long do
you think we have?”

“He’s in New York. So not long.” Harry said.

“Then there’s no time to waste. Ron, come here. I’ll take us back now and get both of you suited
up.”

“Suited up?” Ron asked as he took his place on his dad’s other side.

“I ordered some armor for Hermione and you.” His dad said. “I knew both of you would be
fighting alongside my son and it’s best to be safe about these things.”

“I’m getting armor?”

“And a sword.”

And with that his dad teleported the three of them away from the joke shop and to New York in a
pillar of green flame. They were in his dad’s bedroom Harry knew, Ron was looking at the room in
awe.

“Jarvis! Sound the alarm! There’s going to be an attack from Tom Riddle! Here in New York!”

Immediately the room was filled with flashing red lights and an alarm noise. Harry and Ron both
winced at the shrill tone.

“Harry.” His dad said. “Do you know where he’s going to attack?”

Harry shook his head. The vision hadn’t been that clear. His dad cursed but nodded anyway. He
waved his hand producing three sets of armor, one set that Harry knew because he’d already worn
it.

“Get into that and help Ron into his. It’s enchanted to size to him once it’s on so don’t worry about
the fit.” He ordered. “I’ll send Hermione in here and tell the others what’s going on. Hurry.”

Harry nodded and tugged his friend over. Ron was ogling the armor sets. Each set was a light
forest green, the same color as his dad’s. They looked fearsome and serious enough that Ron didn’t
wrinkle his nose at the slightly Slytherin color scheme.

“Come on let’s get into this.”

“I thought you only said I’d need my wand.”

“Well it’s a good thing you brought it right?” Harry joked.

“Yeah. Good thing.” Ron said. The door then burst open and Hermione rushed in.

“Oh! Ron you’re here!”

“Course I am. Wouldn’t miss it.” He said. “Come on, let’s suit up.”

With Harry’s help and instruction they were all able to get into the armor. True to his dad’s word
the armor on his two friends changed shape to fight them properly. Once their boots were on and
their swords were sheathed, they rushed out of the room. The alarms were still blaring painfully.
Harry led them out of the room and up to the elevator. He knew the Avengers would be in the
penthouse.

The three teens ran in, wands drawn to see that everyone else was ready too. Iron Man’s armor
gleamed, Captain America’s shield shined, and Bruce Banner’s eyes were much greener than
normal.

“Good.” His dad said. “You’re here. Anything new from the scar?”

Harry focused for a moment and closed his eyes. His scar was twinging with a bit of pain.

“He’s close.” Harry said. “Coming closer I think. It hurts whenever we get near each other.”

“We think he’s going to attack the Ministry building here.” Sirius said. “The magical president
works there so it’ll make a big statement especially since they’re not prepared for a full scale
attack.”

“I’m going to go warn them.” Remus said. “Hopefully they’ll listen to me despite my… condition.”

“I can’t go and neither can Sirius for obvious reasons. While Remus warns them the rest of us are
going to get into position to stand guard for the arrival.”

“Let me go.” Harry said. “Warn the ministry.”

“Harry.” Remus said.

“No. I can do that. They’ll listen to me. You know they will.” Harry said before turning to his
friends. “Guys stick together, once I’ve given them warning I’ll find you and we’ll fight together.”

“Why will they listen to you?” Thor asked. Harry stood tall and looked his uncle dead in the eye.
 “Cause I’m Harry Potter.”

Chapter End Notes

Fight! Fight! Fight!

 The Magical American Goverment
Chapter Summary

In which the author never actually saw Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them and
has no intentions of changing that fact. So instead writes her own headcanons about
magical relations in America.
Also, Voldemort is there.

Chapter Notes

Hey! Thanks for the great comments! School has started and I already wish for more
time for naps! Seriously though this is not compliant with anything that wasn't in the
books, so like...Pottermore and Fantastic Beast Stuff is out. If I add anything in from
either of those then it's probably a coincidence.

The American Magical Government was founded in its original form shortly after the Statute of
Secrecy went into effect in 1692. Prior to this point most European magic users living in the
Americas had been beholden to no one. They left their countries of origin and traveled to America
for the lawlessness of the land. Here there were no traditional conventions for magic users, no
schools and no laws to keep anyone from studying or doing anything. Places like New York and
Salem became hotspots for young enterprising magic users, both light and dark, to try new things
and be bold.

When the statute went up the newly formed European Magical governments acted as if they
already owned the magical portions of the Americas. It made little sense in the end, there were
hundreds of nationalities represented in the magical American communities at this point and none
of the European powers could lay claim to it all without causing a fuss. Not to mention, the native
magic users of the land would have rather slit their throats than bow down to European rule, their
magic had already been forcibly hidden and their way of life ravaged, they would not give up their
sovereignty as well.

Combined with that most European magic users didn’t find the idea of listening to a government on
the other side of the ocean all that appealing. In a rare form of solidarity the two groups worked
together and established themselves as a unified body. This meant of course that the Magical
government in the Americas formed well before the muggle one did. Most every other country in
the world had the exact opposite history meaning that the Americans had a rather strange…view of
things.

Rather than basing their government on muggle maps, they made their own. The population of
magic users in the Americas was so scattered in the beginning that frankly it seemed pointless to
have a government for each of the 13 colonies and then another for the northern territories and then
more and more of them for everything to the west. The muggles were constantly changing the
borders anyway and none of them had really agreed upon anything. So the American Magical
Government decided just to span the entire continent.
They split the government up into offices of equal power, based on geography. There was of
course the Canadian branch that dealt with all things icy and northern. A branch for the European
colonies. As well as multiple branches for the native countries and tribes both to the west and to
the south. Each Branch was unified under the same constitution and elected leaders that would
travel and work together to ensure that all magical people on the North American continent were
free and protected.

Each branch was in charge of providing education to the magical users in their geographic area,
either through schools or some sort of apprenticeship program. They were required to maintain the
statute of secrecy to the upmost of their ability (although it was well known that in the native
branches that this rule was bent to the point of being almost non-existent within the tribes
themselves). The branches also had to maintain some sort of military force for the purpose of
protecting magical lands and people. They also had a duty to the magical flora and fauna that
called their geographic location home.

How these tasks were done varied from branch to branch based on cultural and geographic means.
Branches in the more colonized portions of the continent found it more efficient to build schools
and governmental buildings to do their work while the branches that went into not yet attacked
native territory relied more on sending out government workers to tribes and peoples to provide aid
as was requested.

This remained largely the same even as muggles changed, although eventually each branch
succumbed and built a building to represent their headquarters. The United States formed and
began their manifest destiny. In response the Magical Government did what they could to protect
magical lands from muggle destruction. They were somewhat successful. Muggle actions changed
consistently across the continent, stealing land and starting wars. Through it all the Magical
Government remained as unified as ever.

That isn’t to say that the branches of the government got along perfectly. There was a historic (and
semi-friendly) rivalry between the New York Branch and the Inuit Branch that had been going on
since 1774. There was also the well known annual dueling competition between the Cherokee
branch and the Yucatán branch that normally ended in at least 10 duelers from both sides in the
hospital for wounds never before seen by magical healers.

To keep the peace between the branches the presidents of each branch would meet annually in
order to discuss on going needs and concerns across the continent. The meeting place was
randomly decided by an enchanted goblet that would spit out the name of a branch. The annual
meeting would often become a chance for the hosting branch to show off and attempt to prove their
superiority but in theory actual work got done at some point.

In the modern day the Magical American Government was a complex beast of a government that
was often nothing more than a headache for other countries to work with. The muggle leaders of
the continent were often blindsided by the insane differences between the governmental styles and
history. Things were so different that magical Americans used different maps than the muggle
ones. It wasn’t until 2013 that the magical government started producing maps that displayed both
the traditional map that showed the magical branches as well as the more boring muggle map.

All of this is to say that on that day in June, Harry James Potter entered the New York Branch of
the Magical Government expecting it to be like the British Ministry.

He, of course, couldn’t have been more wrong.

Harry had asked his dad to put a glamor over his armor so it looked like he was wearing robes,
thinking to himself that it wouldn’t be good to walk into a government building looking like he was
dressed for war. This would be the one correct thing he did that wasn’t actually a mistake. He
walked into the large ornate stone building that wouldn’t have looked out of place in the very
historic parts of London.

The first thing that greeted Harry was a map. It floated in front of him flapping a little to get his
attention. He saw other versions of the same map doing it to everyone else who entered the
building. Most people just grabbed the map and stuffed it rudely into their pocket while walking
towards wherever they were going while others grabbed the map and actually read it. Harry
grabbed his own and looked it over. It was just a map of the building, different colors highlighting
departments within it.

Words flashed on the top of the map

What do you need?

“Uhm…I need to report an attack.” Harry said. The map helpfully produced a red dot to show
where he was at the entrance and then a red line drew itself across the map towards the Department
of Defense. When he didn’t start moving the map helpfully told him to take ten steps forward and
then take a left.

Right.

Harry used the map as sparingly as possible and hustled towards his destination. He wondered if
maybe he should have let Remus go. Harry wasn’t even sure what had pushed him to volunteer. It
wasn’t like he had a whole lot of experience talking to authority figures. He had, after all, called
Odin a big bag of dicks at one point. Not to mention all of the trouble he’d gotten into last summer
with the trial and Minister Fudge. Harry scowled at the very thought. This wouldn’t be like that,
would it? Surely the American President won’t be rude.

He was partially correct.

When Harry got to the department of defense he found himself walking towards what appeared to
be a receptionist’s desk. The man sitting behind it looked stressed out of his mind. Which was not
a good sign at all. Before Harry could get close another man rushed up to the desk carrying a paper
cup full of some steaming liquid.

“Here Barry.” The man said. “Some coffee for you.”

“David. Do you know how much I love you?” The man behind the desk asked as he grabbed at the
coffee cup.

“Not enough to buy me coffee that’s for sure.”

“I’ve been busy! This emergency meeting has kept me up night after night.”

“I know.” The other man said. “I just wish upper management would get their head out of their
asses and make a decision. We were literally attacked a few weeks ago and they’re still dithering
about an appropriate response.”

“Well we weren’t attacked. It was a muggle arcade.”

“As if that makes a lick of difference.”

Harry walked over to the men and cleared his throat awkwardly.
“Uhm…excuse me I’m sorry to interrupt but…”

“You’re Harry Potter.” Barry said, dropping his cup of coffee in shock. The cup landed on the
desk, perfectly flat, and sent a splash of boiling hot brown liquid into the air that landed safely back
inside the cup. Huh. An anti-spill spell.

“Yes?” Harry said.

“Are you actually him?” David asked causing Harry to roll his eyes and lift up his hair to reveal the
bright red scar. Both men gasped again and Harry let his hair drop back down.

“I came to talk to…”

“I bet you’re here for the meeting. My boss was talking about calling in an expert for the
president.” Barry decided interrupting Harry a second time. “Who better to ask than the Boy-Who-
Lived?”

“Meeting?” Harry asked.

“Yeah the Presidential meeting that got pulled together after the arcade attack. You are here for
that right?”

“Well I do have information for…” Those words would prove to be the next correct thing that
Harry did but this time it was entirely a mistake.

“Great. David, would you pretty please watch my desk for me. Five minutes. I just have to get this
guy to the meeting room.”

“Sure sure.” David said. “But you owe me, like two dinners.”

“Done and done.” Barry stood up and placed a kiss onto David’s cheek before shuffling around and
motioning for Harry to follow. Harry did so. He had to tell someone about this attack soon and
perhaps wherever Barry was taking him would be good for that. The slightly overworked man
looked back at Harry and gave him a small smile. “So how are you liking America? Your trip over
was good right?”

“Uhm. Yeah.” Harry said wondering if small talk was really appropriate at a time like this. “The
trip was fine, I’ve been here for a while already. Sightseeing.”

“Doing the whole tourist thing? In the middle of the war? It must not be as serious over in Europe
as I thought.”

“It is really bad.” Harry said. “But coming here was important.”

“You know you’re kind of fighting an uphill battle here kid.” Barry told him. “We Americans have
kept ourselves out of European business as much as possible over the years. Sure, we’re a part of
the IWC but that’s mostly because not being a part of it would’ve been totally stupid.”

Harry was literally about to be fighting a battle. In the middle of their streets. He was having a hard
time even comprehending what Barry meant.

“Why?” Harry asked instead. “I mean isn’t You-Know-Who a threat to all of us?”

“It was before your time I guess but back during the major part of the war You-Know-Who didn’t
really cause too much trouble here. Oh, don’t get me wrong. I remember back in the day we had
Death Eaters but mostly they just hung around and said messed up shit. Most of the fighting and
killing was done in Europe. So we don’t really see it as a threat to us. Besides, You-Know-Who is a
European problem. They made him, they can get rid of him.”

“That’s not really how the world works.” Harry said.

“What?” Barry asked.

“I mean the world is based off of the idea of passing on responsibility to other people.” Harry
pointed out. “Our parents made the world we live in and we have to deal with their mistakes just
like our parents had to deal with their parents’. And so on. Just because you didn’t make the
problem doesn’t mean it’s not your problem.”

“Still.” Barry mused. “I don’t see why we should care about You-Know-Who.”

“Maybe because he’ll kill you and everyone you love without a second thought?”

That actually shut Barry up. Harry smirked a little and let Barry lead him through the hallways. He
rubbed his scar a little as it prickled. Ever since he’d broken the spells his dad had placed on him
his head had been clear and free of scar pain. To have it return now made him feel irritable. He
could feel some sort of pressure on the scar, as if someone had taken a hot knife and pressed the
flat part to his head.

How close was Voldemort now? Or was this another attack? Harry took in a deep breath and forced
himself to be calm.

“Alright Mr. Potter. The presidents are right through there. Just go in and introduce yourself. I’m
sure they’re expecting you.”

They weren’t. And what did the man mean presidents? Shouldn’t there only be one? Harry was
left alone before he could ask. He looked at the large ornate oak doors in front of him and sighed.
The entire building felt old and well taken care of. Not Hogwarts old of course but still old. Harry
pushed open the door with one hand and stepped inside. He didn’t know what he expected but a
huge round table that seated 25 men and women who were arguing at the top of their lungs was not
it.

“As if The Almighty Dumbledore gives a shit about us!”

“And don’t you dare imply that my Branch doesn’t care about muggles! Your branch has been a
festering pool for Death Eater Activity since the 80s!”

“You-Know-Who isn’t going to attack us again!”

“You-Know-Who could be attacking us right now! We need to be vigilant!”

“Starting a war on a foreign entity is going to increase taxes and frankly I think our constituents
deserve better!”

“There’s nothing to gain in fighting this war!”

“We have the ability to help! That should be enough!”

Harry listened to the cacophony of noise as arguments overlapped one another. He realized very
abruptly that this was not a room he was meant to be in. He’d been hoping to find an auror or
something to warn but now it looked like he was in the middle of a very angry parliament meeting.
The itch in his scar increased and he knew he didn’t have a lot of time.

“Uhm. Excuse me?” Of course no one heard him. Harry swallowed and spoke louder. “HELLO!”

His voice boomed through the room, helped along by a bit of quite accidental magic. All of the
politicians stopped talking, and as one turned to look at the rude interruption. Harry blanched a
little and cleared his throat.

“Uhm…I have something to say.”

“Young man this is a closed meeting.” An elderly woman with warm brown skin said. “I don’t
know how you got in here but…”

“That’s Harry Potter!”

Whispers went through the room as people recognized him, Harry blushed a little and shifted his
feet.

“What are you doing here?” Another man asked with a very thick southern accent.

“I’m…I’m here to warn you.” Harry said. “I came here because I found out that You-Know-Who is
going to be attacking this place soon, probably today but if not today then tomorrow.”

Shock rippled through the crowd. People demanded to know how he knew and for him to share
everything he knew. Eventually another one of the politicians demanded quiet. Harry felt slightly
overwhelmed but forced himself not to panic.

“I…well I…My scar connects me to You-Know-Who. Whenever he gets close to me it hurts, I

know he’s in the city right now.” Harry said firmly. “Sometimes I get visions of what he’s doing
and I know he’s gathering forces for an attack. My best guess is that it will be here because…well
you all are here.”

“But why would he attack us?” A woman asked. “We were neutral in the war before his
resurrection.”

“No one is neutral to him.” Harry said. “He just didn’t care about you, now he does. He thinks that
I’m here to gather an army too. He believes I’m going to ally myself with your country and he
wants to destroy you before you can.”

“We have no plans on allying with Albus Dumbledore.” One of the politicians, a Mexican woman
if Harry had to guess based on her accent, said. “We made that clear decades ago and our stance
has not changed.”

“I’m not with Dumbledore.” Harry said sternly. “I don’t want to work with someone who
manipulates people like that. He’s been messing with me my whole life, it’s why I left Britain in
the first place. But…I am sorry. I thought I was careful enough not to be seen but You-Know-Who
figured out I was here.”

“So this is your fault?” One of the men spat.

“No.” Harry said. “He would have attacked you eventually. There are Death Eaters here and they
won’t be peaceful forever. Besides blaming me for the actions of an insane man who wants to kill
me isn’t fair. I’m fifteen, not a war criminal.”

Harry wasn’t going to take the blame for this attack. He wasn’t. He refused to do it. Not in front of
these people he didn’t know.

“Look. You have to believe me. He is coming right now.”

“This building is warded to hell and back. We are safe in the event of this atttack.” One of the men
said almost sarcastically.

“But your people aren’t. And that’s what matters!” Harry said. “The only reason I’m here is
because there are kids and normal regular people who are gonna get killed just because they live
here. Shouldn’t you be doing something?”

“Yes that is the question.” One of the women said. “I am president of the New York Branch of the
Magical American Government. We are all here trying to decide how best to defend our people.
Some of us believe that organizing the army and invading Britain to destroy Voldemort is our best
option. Others wish to remain neutral and others still argue that we should be shoring up our
defenses. We cannot however act on your word alone, Mr. Potter.”

Of course they didn’t believe him. Harry took in a deep breath to keep his temper in check.

“You’re not going by my word alone. There was a Death Eater attack two weeks ago at an arcade.
You have proof that things are happening don’t you?”

“The boy is right. We know that this is a threat, we cannot continue to bury our heads in the sand!”

“If we make it clear that we are not affiliated with Mr. Potter then You-Know-Who will have no
reason to attack!”

“What about the fact that he wants to?” Harry asked. “You’ve got to understand, everything he’s
done since he’s been resurrected has been designed to cause the most pain and the most destruction
possible. This isn’t something you can just wish away. He doesn’t keep promises and he can’t be
reasoned with I promise you that.”

“So what? You want us to ally ourselves with the Europeans? To fight against a threat they
created? To save them in all the ways they’ve blatantly refused to save us?”

“We are not going to offer our resources to those savages. It is their fault they are in this situation.
They should fix it.”

“Savages?” Harry asked.

“Young man. I don’t know what they teach you over there in Hogwarts but frankly the sheer
amount of anti-magic sentiment in Europe is not our concern. European cultures allowed anti-
magic sentiment to rise to a point that children were being murdered and instead of defending their
children they destroyed our culture with their statute of secrecy.”

“Yes! Our tribes, our nations, we were at peace with our magic. Our culture, our religions were
intertwined with our magic and the Europeans just severed it. Without our consent they created that
damn statute of secrecy and forced us to live under it. Ignorant and uncaring of our pain.” Another
leader added. “Even today we have not recovered, separating magic from our tribes meant cutting
the body of our nations in half. We bleed even still.”

“That’s terrible.” Harry said softly. He tried to imagine it but couldn’t, not truly. He’d grown up in
the muggle world, in a culture that didn’t put any stock into magic. But for a culture that did place
importance on it? Wouldn’t the statute of secrecy have made a mockery of their religion? Of their
culture? “I’m sorry that happened.”
A bunch of politicians paused and actually looked at him. Harry straightened his back and spoke.

“I’m not asking you to save Europe, or to ally yourself with me. I’m only a kid and it’d be pretty
crazy to put all of your hope on me.” Harry said shuffling awkwardly. “What I am asking is that
you act, that you stand up and defend your people because they need you to. I am going to do what
I can, I have people I trust to help me.”

“You’re offering to protect us for nothing in return?” One of the men asked suspiciously. Harry
resisted the urge to growl at the man. What sort of compensation would there even be? Harry just
wanted the war to end! Wasn’t that enough? What sort of person would expect compensation?

“You-Know-Who isn’t my fault. It’s the fault of the generations before me who made poor
decisions.” Harry said. “But if I want to live in this world, if I want to live in a peaceful world, then
it’s my responsibility to fight him. I’m going to do that no matter what. I want to make sure that
You-Know-Who hurts as few as people as possible from now on. That’s what I’m working for. Not
fame. Not money. Not power. I want peace.”

A ripping pain came through his scar and he had to resist the urge to scream. He took in a deep
breath and ignored the pain. He missed the looks of contemplation that he was being given by a
majority of the politicians.

“I have to go.” Harry said. “You have your warning. Listen to it or don’t.”

Then Harry turned and left. Adults were stupid. All of them, Harry decided. Either they didn’t
know how to do laundry or they couldn’t even listen for a few seconds and do their jobs like they
were supposed to. Stupid politicians. Stupid Voldemort. Stupid everything. The pain in his scar
increased as he made his way out of the building. Voldemort was close. Harry reached to his side
and removed his sword. His glamor dropped at the same time, changing from his school robes to
the Asgardian armor his father had given him.

Harry rushed past the desk that Barry was still sitting behind, ignoring the man’s calls and
confusion. He exited through the building using the same path he’d taken to get into it. He stepped
outside the building and into the magical district at large. He expected to see a smoking ruin but it
was just the same as it had been when he’d gotten there. Witches and Wizards mingling around,
going in and out of buildings and doing their business.

Had he gotten it wrong? Was the scar just messing with him? The pain he was feeling was
undeniable but maybe Voldemort had just sent him a fake vision to mess with him. Harry
swallowed back the panic he felt at being wrong about these visions again. He reached into his
pocket and pulled out the communicator Tony had given him. He stuffed it into his ear and pressed
the on button.

“Anything?” Harry asked, flicking his wand into his hand from its holster.

“Harry?” His dad asked.

“My scar is on fire. Does anyone see anything?” Harry asked again. Before anyone could say
anything, the world exploded.

Harry instinctively cast a shield spell with his wand. Around him he could feel fire and smoke and
hear nothing but screams, both from the com in his ear and from the people around him. A cutting
hex slammed into his shield and Harry stumbled back. He let the shield spell drop and looked
around at the smoking ruins. He could see Death Eaters dressed in black attacking people and
destroying buildings. People who needed his help.
He rushed down the stairs, sword in one hand and wand in the other. It didn’t feel as awkward as it
had the first time, he’d done it. His dad and Thor had both helped him immensely with that.

“Harry! Are you okay?” Ron shouted over the com right as Harry finished casting a few stunning
spells right at a death eater who was trying to kill a woman trapped beneath some rubble.

“The attack is here! Right on the steps of the administration building.” Harry shouted.

“There are attacks all over kid!” Tony said. “This thing was coordinated to hell and back. Did the
government listen?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think they wanted to believe me.” Harry said.

“Well, that doesn’t mean we stop. Stick to the plan.” His dad said.

Harry nodded and rushed over to the woman. He used his hands to lift up the rubble and she
crawled out of the way.

“Can you get into the Administration building? It’s well warded.” Harry said. “It’ll be safe.”

“Yes.” She said. “Thank you.”

Harry nodded. He decided to stay there and help everyone in the square to safety as best he could.
Then he’d go find Ron and Hermione. All of his senses were going haywire as the world descended
further into chaos. Spells were flying everywhere and it was impossible to tell who had cast what.
Bright streaks of light that cut through the ash filled air. There was the sound of shouted spells and
screams of pain. It was enough to make Harry want to vomit.

He didn’t though.

Instead he moved.

He spotted Death Eaters and attacked as many as he could find while looking for survivors and
injured people. Over the comms people were shouting at one another, asking for back up or
informing the others about where squadrons of Death Eaters were moving. Harry tried to listen to it
but it distracted him too much and so he decided to focus solely on defending the entrance to the
administration building.

Bombarda!

Deprimo!

Expulso!

Reducto!

Protego!

Harry ducked and dodged and cast spells as fast as he could. He used his sword mostly as a way to
block incoming spells and redirect them. The metal in his hand felt almost boiling hot from all of
the spells it was taking in, he ignored the burns and gripped tighter. His lungs heaved as he jumped
over the cobbled streets that were littered with debris from the destroyed store fronts. Not to
mention the bodies of those who weren’t lucky enough to have survived the first attack. Harry
forced himself not to look at those. His skin started to itch as ash and smoke stuck to his sweaty
skin.
His armor protected him far more than he expected. These Death Eaters weren’t holding back and
often Harry felt himself being flung to the side or to his back from a spell he failed to dodge that hit
the metal of his chest plate. Bruises and lacerations formed along his arms and chest from the
repeated hits. Harry kept a weather eye out for killing curses and for the cruciatus. He did not want
to get hit by one of those.

Harry wasn’t the only one fighting against the Death Eaters. Plenty of adults who either worked in
the buildings or had been in the area when the attack started were fighting back as best they could.
None of them were wearing protective clothing and some of them seemed quite old and out of
practice. Despite this, it seemed to Harry, that together they were able to keep the Death Eaters
from descending into the administration building and the injured inside.

The world was spinning too fast and everything seemed out of focus for Harry. He just kept firing
spells and dodging and jumping. Time meant nothing as he stunned and tied up Death Eaters.
Without quite realizing it Harry had ended up back on the white marble steps that led up to the
Administration Building. He wasn’t sure what it was actually called, he assumed it had a name.
Why was he thinking about building names?

Harry hefted up the little girl who was crying in his arms and rushed up the stairs. He handed her to
one of the other survivors he’d helped. To his surprise he saw men and women in dueling clothes
exiting the building. He spotted one of the politicians in the group. The man grinned at Harry as he
passed and Harry smiled faintly back. From his ear piece he heard the rest of the team sound off
that they spotted armored magic users appearing to fight off the Death Eaters.

Harry could have collapsed from relief. He wanted to.

Then he collapsed from pain. The scar screamed and split sending blood down his forehead and
onto his nose and cheeks. Harry almost fell to his knees, but someone kept him up.

“Harry Potter.”

Immediately the entire battle silenced itself. Harry couldn’t say if that was from magic or from
fear. Harry turned around to see Voldemort standing there in all his glory. The bone white skin
glinted in the afternoon sun and his red eyes seemed to glow with malice. The man was wearing a
dark robe that whipped about in the breeze.

“I had wondered if you would be here.” Voldemort said.

Harry stood up and blinked trying to clear his eyes of the blood. He gripped his sword a bit tighter
than normal. Everyone was moving as far to either side of him and Voldemort as they could. Like
the parting of the red sea except much worse. Harry lifted his sword and tried to look brave.

“Tom.” Harry said. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Voldemort immediately cast a killing curse at Harry. Harry summoned a piece of concrete that
intercepted the curse and exploded into a shower of rock and dust.

“That is Lord Voldemort to you boy!”

“But that’s not your name.” Harry said. “Your name is Tom Riddle.”

Voldemort fired a bright yellow spell that Harry didn’t recognize. Harry cast the most powerful
shield spell he could, the shield shattered upon impact and sent Harry stumbling back. He jumped
up again and fired a cutting hex right at Voldemort that the dark lord just batted away like it was
nothing.
“Stand aside, Potter.” Voldemort ordered.

“Piss off.” Harry said. “You’re not getting inside this building.”

“They are not your allies Potter. They are nothing to you, you need not die for them.”

“I am going to protect everyone, no matter who they are, against you.” Harry said. “You have
spent my entire life haunting me. You’ve ruined everything I’ve ever been a part of. I’m going to
do the same to you, Tom. I promise. As long as I live you are not going to take one single step
towards victory.”

Neither can live while the other survives.

Voldemort snarled and cast a crucio. Harry lifted up his sword and let the Asgardian metal take in
the spell like some sort of radiation. The heat from the cruse traveled down the metal and added
onto the burn on his palms. Harry fired a bombarda spell right at the Dark Lord’s feet and forced
him to apparate away. Harry jumped forward down the steps and the duel began in earnest.

If fighting Death Eaters had been overwhelming then it was nothing on the sheer terror that was
fighting Voldemort one on one. Harry was outclassed in almost every capacity. He relied mostly
on dodging, shield spells, and sheer dumb luck. He managed to hit the Dark Lord only twice, the
first with a cutting hex and the second with an expulso. In comparison, Voldemort hit him about
ten times. Eventually he got hit by another cruciatus that sent him to the ground, writhing and
screaming in pain. Voldemort stalked forward, holding the curse over Harry to keep him immobile.

He got within feet of Harry, causing the blood that was still bleeding from his scar to pour out of
him like a flood. Before he could get further Voldemort was hit by a wall of green fire. The
cruciatus ended as Voldemort’s concentration broke.

“Step away from him.”

“Dad.” Harry coughed, he couldn’t tell if he was relieved for the rescue or terrified about his dad
facing Voldemort.

“Loki, god of magic. It is an honor”

“Funny, I can't really say the same.”

His dad immediately started dueling against Voldemort in a way that Harry had frankly been
unable to. Harry’s limbs spasmed painfully and he tried to sit up. He saw other Avengers and
Marauders making their way towards them. Tony Stark flew in and fired an energy beam right at
Voldemort. Sirius and Remus both apparated in and began to attack from the left and right. His dad
kept a majority of Voldemort’s attention on him using illusions and other Asgardian spells.

When Thor landed so hard that he cratered the street around him, his entire body lit up with
lightning and a storm brewing in the sky. Voldemort seemed to do an assessment of the situation.

He ran.

Harry collapsed in relief again, falling back onto the street when Voldemort apparated away. The
pain on his scar lessened to an almost nonexistent ache telling him that the Dark Lord was far, far
away.

“Coward!” Sirius shouted.

“We almost had him, Loki.” Thor said.

“That would have been too easy.” His dad said, not even looking at Thor but instead looking
around for Harry. Ron and Hermione spotted him first, laying on some rubble and groaning.

“Harry!” Ron shouted, his best friend’s voice sounded distorted and weird. Harry closed his eyes
and opened them again only to see five Rons kneeling at his side. Harry’s body spasmed through
aftershocks of the curse. “Come on mate! Tell me you’re okay.”

Harry tried. He really did. But all that came out was the word ‘FSenkg’. Which arguably was not a
word at all. Then Harry lost consciousness.
 Loki: 1, Albus: 0
Chapter Summary

The Order arrives a bit too late to the action in New York, and Loki finally makes his
debut to the Order.

Chapter Notes

Hey everyone! Thanks so much for all the brilliant comments last week! I enjoyed
reading them!
I'm leaving for a field trip tomorrow and I won't get back until Sunday. I should be
able to update normally next wednesday but in the event of like...exhaustion or some
other unforeseen circumstance, I might update a day late on thursday instead. I swear
there will be an update next week though!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Voldemort’s attack had been quick and well planned. That much Loki could admit. Squadrons of
Death Eaters had arrived spells blasting from their wands in five different sectors of the Manhattan
Magical Section, commonly known among the locals as Downtown. Thankfully Loki, with the
help of Stark, Sirius, and Remus had been able to properly guess which sectors would be attacked.

They’d forgotten the administration building.

It was the most heavily warded place in the state of New York. The very idea of Voldemort, or
anyone, doing a frontal assault on that building had been ludicrous. Secretly Loki had been pleased
when Harry had volunteered to go there. It would probably be safer for him if he was near such a
bastion of security.

Of course, he’d been wrong on all counts on that. Loki had barely been able to fight through the
crowds and get to his son before it was too late. Loki had been careful fighting Voldemort, to a
point. He was aware that he couldn’t kill Voldemort, trying to usurp the prophecy would not end
well for him and he refused to die in front of his son.

But the prophecy never said anything about someone else maiming the Dark Lord. Perhaps Loki
could just start removing limbs and skin, nothing fatal, but certainly painful. He’d learnt plenty of
torturing techniques from his time under Thanos’ care and honestly who better to share that
knowledge with than the monster who’d murdered his wife? Sirius and Remus had been right
behind him, wands blazing with the promise of revenge and justice.

Loki managed to hit the snake eyed monster with a few delightful hexes that would leave the
monster in pain for weeks, as well as a jinx that ensured every 51st step he took would result in
him tripping face first into the ground. Not to mention the curse he’d specially designed that would
give the monster a blistering headache anytime he thought about Harry. Turn about was fair play
after all. Sirius and Remus had also gotten in their own shots while firing at the Dark Lord from
behind, something Loki thoroughly approved of.

Loki was only sad that Voldemort had fled before Thor could give the man a traditional Asgardian
war greeting. Thor looked equally as disappointed as the barbarian like rage drained from his
features, the storm in the sky calming to something far more manageable. In the distance, he saw
Ron and Hermione rushing towards his son and Loki felt the swell of victory in his chest turn to
ice.

“Move.” Loki ordered right after he teleported to Ron’s side.

“He just went out.” Ron said. “He tried to talk to me but he couldn’t.”

His son’s limbs were filled with tremors, and even unconscious his face was filled with pain. And
also covered with blood. Loki reached out, ever so careful and let his hands began to glow. He
wasn’t a trained healer, but over the centuries of doing inadvisable things with Thor, he’d picked
up enough that he could do what needed to be done here.

“Is he okay?” Thor asked.

“He will be.” Loki said before he even knew the true extent of the damage. His son would be
nothing but okay, there was no alternative. “Sirius! Go back to the tower and get the potions kit.
Remus with me.”

“Got it Prongs.” Sirius said at the same time that Remus knelt down on Harry’s other side.

“What do you need?”

“Monitor him for me, let me know if he wakes up or if his vitals change?” Loki requested.
“Asgardian healing methods can be a bit rough on the body.”

“I thought he saw the Asgardian healers when you saved Padfoot?”

“He did but they limited themselves to human methods, but with the amount of damage from the
cruciatus, I need a bit more fire power.” Remus nodded and used his wand to cast a monitoring
charm on Harry.

“Is there anything we can do?” Hermione asked, her voice nervous and unsure as if she hadn’t been
one of the most terrifying things Loki had seen today. Seriously, that fifteen year old girl had
shown about as much hesitation in a fight that Natasha did, which is to say none whatsoever. The
only difference being was that she had the mind of Tony Stark. A combination that Loki could
have never foreseen.

“Lady Hermione.” Thor said. “You are a grand and frightening warrior like myself. The best thing
we can do now is give space to those who are trained in this.”

“Oh. I knew I should have started studying healing spells.”

“We’ll learn ‘em together.” Ron said, giving Hermione’s armored shoulder a pat. Ron hadn’t been
anything to laugh at either. While his range of spells was not as broad as Hermione’s he had more
magical power than she did and his wand form was excellent.

Loki’s hand glowed bright green, flames licking out of his palms and he reached out for his son’s
left hand. He began to murmur spells, ordering the damaged and destroyed nerves to repair
themselves, in a language none of them knew. An ancient language that had been written and
forgotten long before even Odin was born. A language that only magic users with too much time
on their hands ever bothered to learn. His magic seeped into his son, green power seeking out
damage and forcing it back to rights.

The amount of damage to his son’s nervous system was severe and extensive. Voldemort had held
the cruciatus for far longer than any normal human would have survived under. His son’s godly
heritage had given him just enough endurance to keep him from being ruined forever by the curse.
As it was now, Loki worked slowly, using his magic as precisely as a scalpel to repair his son’s
hand and arm inch by inch.

He got all the way up to his son’s shoulder, a ring of green magic circling around the joint between
his arm and shoulder before he let go and switched to his son’s left foot. He repeated the same
process, quelling the tremors in his son’s body with a healing flame. Around him the Avengers
were gathering from their stations and comparing injuries and battle stories. When Voldemort had
retreated, all of the Death Eaters who were able to, followed after with their tails between their
legs. There were of course plenty of Death Eaters who were dead, unconscious, or tied up ready for
the authorities to take them away.

Loki ignored the chatter, only paying enough attention to do a cursory head count of everyone in
their team, before putting his full attention on his spells. He knew that if his son was awake he’d
likely be causing him just as much pain, if not more pain than what the cruciatus had caused.
Magical healing, be it human or divine, was generally painful. In essence this sort of magic
instantly repaired whatever had been broken in the body. Human magic was akin to a gentle
suggestion, a ‘how would you feel about sticking back together, dear friend?’. In contrast
Asgardian healing magic was more like a drill sergeant that put the fear of god into an injury and
forced it to repair itself out of sheer self-preservation.

He forced himself to ignore his son’s other injuries, the nerve damage was his priority. Everything
else could be seen to by a human healer in a hospital instead of a war-torn city street. Loki finished
his son’s left leg, stopping the healing right where his thigh met his hip and then moved to the
right. This required him to bend awkwardly over his son’s body, but he didn’t waste time moving
into a more comfortable position. The sooner this was healed, the less likely there would be any
lingering damage or pain.

“James. He’s waking.”

“Put him back to sleep.”

Remus nodded, although Loki didn’t see that, instead he heard Remus cast a sleeping spell over his
son, pushing him back into unconsciousness. The ring of green light traveled over his son’s right
knee cap that appeared to be heavily bruised and inflamed, Harry must have fallen on it at some
point and then kept running around on it, heedless of the pain it must have been causing him. The
magic continued up and up his thigh, forcing nerves back into working order and quelling the pain
responses.

He was at his son’s right elbow, gently realigning and reattaching nerves when the sound of
multiple teleportations happened all at once behind him. It took all of his will power not to look up
or flinch from his work.

“We’re here!” Fred called out.

“We brought the Calvary!”

“A bit too late for that!” Ron shouted. “You-Know-Who’s come and gone already.”
“Ronald Billius Weasley! When your brothers told me what you were doing, I couldn’t believe it!
And what on earth are you wearing?” Molly shouted.

Loki rolled his eyes as the argument between the entire Weasley clan seemed to explode around
him. He also heard other familiar voices. Alastor, telling everyone to be cautious because these
muggles could be anyone at all. Shacklebolt demanding to speak to any of the American aurors
about potential containment plans. And of course, Severus Snape, telling Ron and Hermione that
they didn’t belong here and that they were insolent annoying little children.

Was that how he talked to all his students?

Loki moved from his son’s now healed right arm to his torso. The damage wasn’t as bad here and
so he was able to move quicker than he had before. The arguments continued as Loki worked
through his son’s intestines and pancreas. Ron explained that he was wearing armor so that he’d be
better protected, Hermione was defended her choice with the same veracity that she’d declared it to
her parents. Loki worked up through his son’s lungs, and then spent some special attention on his
son’s, thankfully, still beating heart.

Up the shoulders and into the neck. Harry’s tremors had stopped by this point. His face was lax
under the sleeping spell. Remus, or someone else perhaps, had cleaned off the blood from Harry’s
face and neck. Revealing the painfully inflamed scar. Loki placed his hands on both of his son’s
temples and repeated the spell for a sixth time. Surprisingly, there was little damage from the
cruciatus at all. Loki’s magic reached out and touched protections that had a familiar twinge to
them.

Lily.

Harry had spoken of his mother’s protection, of Lily’s sacrifice and now he could see what he
meant. Lily’s last remaining bit of magic in this realm had gathered in their son’s mind and
provided protection for it against an unforgivable. Loki frowned a bit as his magic brushed over the
scar. There was some sort of…thing inside it. It wasn’t a curse or an object. It wasn’t anything
Loki had ever seen before in fact.

There was a wall of magic, organically grown, that stood as a barrier between his son’s mind and
this dark, writhing thing. He could see the framework of the wall had been built by Lily’s love and
protection and his son’s magic had bolstered it and filled most of the holes. Carefully Loki reached
out and used his own magic to cover up the one’s that Harry had missed. It was a temporary
protection, but at least Loki had an idea of what he needed to do now.

Whatever was in his son’s scar needed to go.

“I don’t see why these muggles are even here.” Severus sneered. Loki opened his eyes and rolled
them at Remus, who looked relieved beyond all measure to see Loki had finally stopped healing
Harry.

“Really? You can’t think of a single reason?” Loki asked, standing up and turning around.

It was something out of a soap opera. Two sides forming a circle. The Order on one side, with the
Avengers on the others. Ron and Hermione were of course standing by the Avengers, bold against
the adults they were meant to be respecting. At his words the entire Order, including Dumbledore
all stopped to look at him. Dumfounded. Loki forced himself not to immediately rushed
Dumbledore and stab him. Instead he looked Severus Snape dead in the eye, a smirk on his face he
hadn’t worn in over 15 years.
Snape looked like he’d seen a ghost. His greasy hair outlining a paler than usual face. It was ironic
since the man worked in a castle frequented by ghosts.

“It can’t be.” Arthur breathed out.

“Arthur!” Loki called, a genuine smile forming on his face upon seeing the red headed man. “It’s
so good to see you! Harry’s been telling me so much about you. You really got the job as the head
of the Muggle Artifacts Department? Congratulations! I can’t think of a better fit for you. You
know I really should introduce you to my friend Tony. You two would get along swimmingly. Just
tell him about that flying car of yours.”

“A flying car?” Tony asked.

“I…uh yes. A Ford Angela.” Arthur said still looking at Loki and blinking stupidly.

“It’s not…” Kingsley said stepping forward.

“Shacklebolt!” Loki shouted. “It’s been an age hasn’t it? Did you get that promotion you were
after? Harry didn’t know what your position in the Auror Corps was when I asked him about it.
And Mad-Eye! You’re still here, although with a few new accessories I can see. Nice peg leg.”

And Loki meant that sincerely. It did look rather nice and if Loki knew Mad-Eye at all then it was
probably enchanted to hell and back.

“James?” Molly asked, her voice trembling. “Is that you?”

“Molly.” Loki said beaming at the woman. “Thank you. Harry told me about how you welcomed
him into your home, I cannot express my gratitude to you. Not only for being so compassionate to
my son but for raising Ron so wonderfully. He’s been such an excellent friend for my son, a
brother in all but blood and I can’t help but be grateful to both you and Arthur for it.”

“Now hold up right there!” Mad-Eye shouted before Molly could step forward and either hug Loki
or slap him across the face. “James Potter is dead! This is clearly an imposter!”

“Mad-Eye, the first time you and I met, you helped me detangle myself from a cursed rose bush
when I was 16. I swore you to secrecy and as far as I know, you never told anyone.”

“You could have guessed that!” The man said, his magical blue eye whirring around looking for
enchantments on him. Loki rolled his eyes and lifted up his right hand. He let it glow green with
magic again, two tongues of magic swirling down his wrist and curling around his forearm.

“I swear on my magic, and on my life, that I am the James Potter you knew. I am not a spy sent by
You-Know-Who or any other enemy force. So mote it be.”

“Well.” Mad-Eye said. “He’s not fibbing!”

“Not this time.” Thor muttered causing Loki to giggle just a little.

“James.” Arthur said. “Where have you been? What happened? Why do you look like that?”

“Do you have any idea what Harry’s has been through?” Molly shouted, clearly having chosen to
try and smack Loki across the cheek.

“I thought him dead.” Loki said, his voice cracking. “I thought You-Know-Who killed him along
with my wife and Sirius and Remus and Peter. I thought they were all dead and I was left alone. I
went back to my home to mourn, never even imagining that I was abandoning so many people.”

“Your home?” Shaklebolt asked.

“I am not only James.” Loki said. “My true name, the one I have known for 2000 years is Loki of
Asgard, god of magic and mischief.”

Before anyone could react to that truth bomb, Sirius finally returned.

“James! I got the potions kit! Did you really have to hide it under that many hexes?”

Molly screamed. Then Sirius screamed, but that was mostly because Arthur, Shaklebolt, Mad-Eye,
Severus, and Dumbledore all fired spells right at him. Loki immediately cast a shield spell, a thick
wall of translucent green magic that took in all of the spells like it was nothing, protecting his
friend.

“I hid it under that many spells because I didn’t want you or Remus pranking it.”

“Come on! I wouldn’t have done that.” Sirius defended before frowning. “Well maybe just a little.”

“Go over and help Remus. I’ve done what I can for Harry, he just needs a few pain potions and
some basic healing before we let him wake up.”

“On it!” Loki let the shield spell drop and Sirius hopped past the entire confrontation and towards
Remus who had transfigured the rocks around him into a floating cot that he’d moved Harry onto.
The boy looked better already which brought Loki an incalculable amount of relief.

“I suppose I should do introductions right?” Loki asked. “I’ll start on this side and work my way
around. This is Thor, my brother, god of thunder and lightning.”

“Hello!” Thor boomed happily, waving his hammer around like the golden retriever he often was.

“And this is Captain Steve Rodgers, or as he is more famously known, Captain America. He’s a
famous muggle hero with a body enhanced by a permanent strength potion. He’s also the leader of
this motley crew.

“It’s going to be an honor to work with you all. Loki’s told us plenty about the Order and I can tell
you’re a tight operation.”

This made Mad-Eye scowl and mutter about being vigilant, but Loki ignored that. He continued
down the line introducing each Avenger, with both their real names, as well as their hero names.
He explained their abilities and skill sets as needed to ensure his magical audience understood
perfectly. He did everything in his power not to look at Dumbledore, he could feel his gaze boring
into his skin, probing for the truth and preparing for a confrontation.

A confrontation Loki didn’t plan to give.

At least not so openly.

When he finished he introduced the Order members he knew, and was introduced to a shapeshifter
named Tonks. Then he got to Dumbledore.

“And this is of course Albus Dumbledore, leader of the Order.” Loki said, his voice only slightly
brittle. “He’s the man I worked under when I was James as well as Harry’s headmaster at his
magic school.”
The Avengers to their credit hid their disgust well, Thor even managed to keep the sky clear of any
incriminating lightning strikes.

“James. You owe us an explanation.” Albus said. “Where have you been?”

“I’ll tell you everything, under veritaserum if necessary, but I want to check on my son again as
well as ensure the captured Death Eaters are taken into custody. If Tony is willing, we can have a
meeting in his tower and hash everything out after the clean up?”

“That’s fine with me. I’ll have Jarvis get a room together.”

“Very well.” Albus said. “Everyone, let’s get to work!”

The Avengers didn’t move until Loki gave them a nod. They then followed the Order and did as
Albus commanded. Which Loki appreciated. Loki saw Severus give him a fearsome glare as the
man stalked away to begin looking for survivors.

“Thor.” Loki whispered. “Come here.”

Thor walked over and Loki pointed out the black cloak of Severus.

“That’s Severus Snape. He’s Harry’s teacher at Hogwarts, he bullies him.”

“Really.” Thor growled.

“Yes. Go over there and be as friendly and bright as possible. Do not go away no matter what hints
he gives. Be the annoying man I know you are deep down.”

Thor grinned, his blue eyes glinting with excitement at the task. He gave Loki a pat on the back
and then strolled directly towards Snape, calling him a wizard very loudly. All Loki needed was
one peak at Severus’ pained face as he turned to look at Thor to know he’d made the right choice.
Loki went over to his son next, unsurprised to find Albus already there looking over the work that
had been done.

They’d been left largely alone but for Remus and Sirius. Ron and Hermione had been herded away
by Molly, who was only slightly mollified by Loki’s words. He could hear her still lecturing her
son and Hermione quietly for being reckless. Loki knelt by Sirius, and noted the tenseness of his
posture.

“How is he?”

“Better than I thought he’d be. Honestly he’ll probably need a day of bed rest.” Sirius decided.

“We really should pick up his training.” Remus added. “He held his own decently well against
Him but he can be better.”

“I agree.” Loki said. “Once he’s well I’ll work out a new schedule with him.”

“I don’t think it’s necessary for the boy to be going under training.” Albus said. “He’s not even
16.”

“That, is not your call to make.” Loki said, his voice as cold as the peaks in Jontunheim. “In fact
Albus, I’d like it if you fucked off completely when it came to choices I make about my son. Have
you not done enough?”

“James I…” Albus said, his voice only slightly pained. He reached out a bit and Loki spotted his
 blackened left hand. Loki reached out and snatched the cursed limb. Albus hissed in pain at the
tight grip Loki was exerting.

“A nasty curse that is.” Loki said, examining it and the large ugly stone the man was wearing as a
ring. “It’ll be fatal to you within a year I suspect.”

“Severus is working on a cure.” Albus lied, trying and failing to pull his hand back. Loki snarled
and let his magic burst to life again. His sheer power burned into the man’s skin making him cry
out in pain. Sirius already ahead of the game cast a silencing ward around them so that no one
could hear. Loki’s magic seared up Albus’ hand burning away the cursed flesh.

“Don’t lie to me Albus.” Loki hissed.

“James…I…thank you.” Albus said looking at his healed hand, his voice was hoarse from the
lingering pain. The man’s entire body was shaking from the roughness of Asgardian healing
methods in fact.

“This was not a gift.” Loki warned standing up to glare at the old man head on. He let go of Albus’
hand. “You don’t get to die so easily old man, not after what you did to me. What you cost me.
When the time is right I’m going to make you suffer. Truly suffer. Your betrayal will not go
unpunished.”

“Why not just punish me now then? Why not tell the truth?”

“Because, I still have need of you.” Loki told him. “The merciful James you knew died the moment
you lied to him in the name of the Greater Good, Albus. Every moment that you live from now on
will be filled with pain and suffering and when you finally outlive your usefulness I am going to do
to you what should have been done decades ago.”

Loki saw the calculations going on in the old man’s eyes and he leaned forward, letting his eyes
turn red and his teeth grow into fangs.

“If you do anything against me or mine I will destroy everything you’ve ever touched. I will raze
Hogwarts to the ground. I will ruin anything you’ve ever known or loved and I will make you
watch. I am an ancient deity Albus, you will not outsmart me. You are not going to win. It would
be in your best interests to give me everything I demand because every time you fight me that adds
one more log to the stake I’m going to burn you on. Is that understood?”

“Perfectly.” Albus said.

“Good. Now get away from my son.” He waved his hand, a wave of magic forcibly teleporting
Albus away from them. Loki stood there, rage sending tremors through his body.

“Shit James.” Sirius said. “Who knew you could be so terrifying?”

Chapter End Notes

Next week's update might be a day late. If it's not up on Wednesday then check in
again on Thursday.
 Harry's Moral Quandary
Chapter Summary

Harry wakes up feeling a lot better than he expected he would and his dad gives him a
lot to think about.

Chapter Notes

Sorry this was late!! My field trip went brilliantly but as I feared it threw me off
schedule by a day! Next week should be back on time though so no worries about
that!! Hope you enjoy this chapter and thanks for the all the brilliant comments! <3

“Starlight? How are you feeling?”

Harry hadn’t even realized he was awake until his dad’s voice hit his ears. He licked his dry lips
and let his eyes open. They were still in the Magical District, although he was now laying in a
floating cot.

“Uh…fine?” Harry said, surprise turning his answer into a question.

He did feel fine. Hadn’t he just been hit with the cruciatus?

“Are you asking me or telling me?” His dad asked.

“Both? I thought…”

“Asgardian healing spells can heal the damage from the cruciatus.” His dad explained. “You’re
going to be sore and weak for a day or so but you’ll be fine. It could have been worse but your
mother’s protection worked like a charm.”

“Really?”

“Yes, she kept your mind safe.” His dad said fondly, lifting a hand to run his fingers through
Harry’s hair. “It was nice to feel her magic again. If you’d like, I can teach you how to sense it
yourself that way you can…feel her too.”

“Yeah…I’d like that.” Harry said swallowing past the lump in his throat.

“Later then.” His dad promised. “Come on up, we’re done here. The Order is here and they want
answers. I thought perhaps we could tell the story together this time?”

“They’re here?” Harry forced his body up, ignoring the loud complaints of his muscles. His dad
reached out and stabilized him so he didn’t fall back down. He looked around and to his surprise he
saw a bunch of Order members walking around, helping survivors of the attack or talking with the
American authorities. “Did anyone punch you?”
His dad gave him a look before scoffing.

“Not yet at least. I think they’re a bit too shocked. Although I wouldn’t be surprised if Molly tries
to slap me.” His dad admitted. “She’s a bit too busy telling off Ron and Hermione to turn her ire to
me but I’m certain that won’t last long.”

“Yeah the sounds about right.” Harry said, he looked around again and frowned. “Is
Dumbledore…”

“He’s here.” His dad said curtly. “We spoke briefly.”

“Spoke?”

“I didn’t hurt him, just made it clear that he was not to meddle in our life any longer.” His dad
wasn’t looking at him anymore, instead he was looking at the middle distance with a glare. A tiny
shiver ran down his spine. Looking at his dad’s harsh eyes he could finally see the man who’d
invaded New York with an army of aliens. His dad shook himself a little and looked back at Harry,
and like magic the coldness in his face melted away to reveal the man who hugged Harry while
they watched movies together.

“Right.” Harry said. “And he…agreed to that?”

“Time will tell.” His dad decided. “He seemed shocked to see me, which was stupid, he knew I
was alive this entire time. Did he assume I’d never check in on the magical world?”

Now that was a question. Why had Dumbledore done nothing when his dad had returned to earth,
or even when he started living with the Avengers? Surely there would have been better ways to
manipulate the situation than just ignoring it?

“Maybe he was scared?” Harry asked. “I mean you did invade New York.”

“If he wasn’t, he should be now.”

“I thought you said you didn’t hurt him?”

“I didn’t. In fact, I healed him. The daft fool had gotten a terrible curse cast on him that was slowly
killing him. I got rid of it.”

“Oh.” Harry said, he wasn’t sure how to feel about that. On one hand he was incredibly angry with
Dumbledore. Even now, weeks after learning about his betrayal, there was a mass of rage and
vexation that writhed around in his gut. Sometimes when he was happy and calm with the world,
that loathing would rise up and remind him that everything he’d ever suffered had all been part of
Dumbledore’s plan.

But.

Harry thought about how he’d tried to curse Bellatrix with the cruciatus after she’d killed Sirius.
He remembered her lesson, her telling him that his righteous anger wasn’t enough to really cause
pain. That he had to want them to hurt. Even after watching that awful terrible woman kill his
godfather and laugh about it, he still hadn’t wanted her to hurt. Was that wrong? Was something
wrong with him? He tried to imagine torturing Dumbledore, or trying to get revenge and it made
him wince inwardly.

When he’d punched his dad, he’d felt awful about it. Granted part of that had been the magical
exhaustion talking, but that one bit of revenge against the man he’d thought had abandoned him
had left him feeling empty and cold. Maybe Harry just wasn’t built for revenge. Sure there were
times when the opportunity came. Hermione tricking Umbridge into the forbidden forest and then
her being trampled by centaurs came to mind. But even still, that felt different somehow. Umbridge
had done that to herself really, insulting the centaurs right in front of their faces. It was unlikely that
even if Harry had spoken on her behalf that it would have made any difference at all.

So what then? What did Harry want? He was so angry at Dumbledore that he trembled with it at
times. He could still remember that anger escaping out of him at the arcade, how it had nearly
suffocated him. How frightened that rage, the anger that he’d been pushing down deep inside of
himself, made him feel. But at the same time he balked at the very idea of hurting Dumbledore.

Did he want Dumbledore to go to jail? He remembered the Dementors and how they made him
feel and he decided against it. Nobody deserved living with those things, nobody. Yet part of him
whispered that Dumbledore had sent Sirius to be stuck with them for 12 years without even
blinking. Wouldn’t it be fair that Dumbledore suffered the same? The memory of the chill of
dementors made him swallow back the thought.

What did Harry want?

“Harry?” His dad asked. “Is everything okay?”

“It’s…I was just thinking about Dumbledore.” Harry said. “It’s not going to be easy.”

“Don’t worry about him. I will make sure he pays for what he’s done.”

But what did that even mean? Would revenge get rid of the years of hardship? Would it make
Harry’s heart feel light again? Would making Dumbledore pay remove Harry’s nightmares and
trauma? Would it help Sirius and Remus heal? What about his dad? Wouldn’t it be easier to just
leave it alone?

Leave it alone? Harry didn’t want to leave it alone! He was angry and hurt and Dumbledore would
just keep hurting and hurting and hurting people if Harry left it alone.

What should they do then?

“Is it weird that I’m angrier at Dumbledore than I am at Tom?” Harry asked suddenly, the thought
forming in his mind at the same time his mouth made the words. “I mean…Tom killed my mum
and you, sorta. And he killed Cedric and tortured me and he’s done so much evil. I should hate
him. But I just…don’t? Not like I think I should I guess.”

His dad hummed, then he snapped his fingers, conjuring a chair to sit in. Once seated his dad gave
Harry a thoughtful look, something contemplative.

“Harry I can’t tell you how to feel about anyone.” Loki said. “I hate Tom very much. I hate him for
killing your grandparents and for killing Lily and so many other humans that I loved. I hate him
for tainting my human childhood with his war and I hate him for ruining yours. It’s difficult to
imagine not loathing that monster with every fiber of my immortal being.”

“Oh.” Harry said, suddenly feeling very small for reasons he didn’t quite understand.

“How I feel about Albus is very different.” His dad continued. “I trusted him, loved him. For much
of my human life there was a time where I would have died for him without regret. No one else in
my entire life has ever inspired that much loyalty within me, except for my family. Albus’ betrayal
cuts far deeper for me than Tom’s ever will. Tom is a being of pure evil and malice, he did what a
monster like that is bound to do. I hate him for it and if given the chance I will make him suffer for
it. But Albus? Albus was supposed to be a good man, a leader I could trust. What he did to me
hurts all the more because of who he was to me.”

“I…I thought he was the only person keeping me safe.” Harry sniffed. “But he…he never did. Not
really.”

Harry remembered his dad bursting in to save him from Voldemort. How different it had been from
Dumbledore fighting Tom in the Department of Mysteries. Albus had tried to talk sense into Tom,
had only done enough fighting to keep Tom from killing him, he hadn’t even done anything to try
and stop Harry from being possessed. His dad had jumped forward, frantic and holding nothing
back. Harry had no doubt that if Tom had tried to possess him again his dad would have been right
by his side, holding him and trying to comfort him even if he couldn’t stop it.

“Oh Starlight, I’ll keep you safe.” His dad promised, before wincing. “Well as safe as I can. I’m
not going to pretend the prophecy doesn’t exist, no matter how much I’d like too.”

“Excuse me?” A voice said, breaking them out of their intense conversation. Harry looked over to
see one of the politicians that had been in that room who hadn’t wanted to listen to Harry. He was
pretty sure she was the one who’d said she was the president of the New York Branch.

“Hello.” His dad said standing up and vanishing the chair. He held out a hand and shook the
woman’s. “I’m Loki Odinson.”

“I know who you are.” She said. “You lead an invasion on my city.”

“I…was not myself at the time.” His dad said delicately. “If you would like I can provide proof of
magical compulsion spells on my person. I would even submit to a veritaserum test to prove that if
I had been under my own control, I would have never invaded this world.”

“I will keep that in mind.” She said shrewdly, even as some of the suspicion bled from her face.
“I’m Adriana Sanchez, President of the New York Branch of the American Magical Union.”

“It is an honor to meet you. I am sorry about all this mess, we’d hoped to give enough warning
time for…”

“We were given a warning and we chooe to ignore it.” President Sanchez said, her face tight.
“Despite this, the damage is much less than it could have been. Of which I believe I have Mr.
Potter to thank.”

She turned to him then, she held out her hand to him and Harry forced himself to stand up and take
it. He stumbled only a little and his dad reached out to steady him.

“If you hadn’t of held the barrier here in front of the Administration building we would have been
in a true crisis.” She said. “Shortly after you left us, the wards went off and we discovered Death
Eaters had broken into the building and were attacking our security system from the inside. It took
all of our efforts to quell the attack on the inside. If you hadn’t have been out here Mr. Potter then
You-Know-Who would have walked right in the front doors and taken over the place.”

“I…I didn’t realize there were Death Eaters inside.” Harry said thinking about the hurt people he’d
sent into the building thinking it’d be safe.

“They were mostly in the lower floors.” She said, somehow guessing what he was thinking about.
“You did exactly the right thing and we all owe you a huge debt for it. You gave us the time we
needed to marshal our forces and we’ve now got the largest group of Death Eaters ever captured
sitting in cells and waiting for their trials.”
“I promised I’d help.” His words caused the woman to give him a rueful smile, the dark brown
lipstick she was wearing stretching and cracking a little over her lips.

“That you did.” She said. “I will of course have to speak to the other Presidents but I think that
working with you, Mr. Potter would be in our best interest. I don’t know yet what military forces
we can offer you but…”

“I’m not asking you to do that.” Harry rushed to say, interrupting the woman in his haste. “I just
wanted you all to prepare yourselves and defend your people.”

“I know.” She said. “Which is precisely why I’m offering it. It’s time we stop putting our heads in
the sand. You-Know-Who brought the war literally to our doorstep and we will not take that lying
down.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Your concern Mr. Potter is with ending this war, to create peace.” She said. “You want to
preserve life, liberty, and happiness. That is something we can get behind. It’s clear to me that you
would never ask us to risk lives to prove a point or to throw away our forces on a slim chance of
success. You would choose to protect people first, over anything else. In that we share a common
goal.”

Something glinted in her eye as she looked around at the destruction of her city. This was the place
she lived, worked, and served in. The people who had died today had been her people. Just like
Harry had glimpsed his dad’s rage, he could see Sanchez’s. She wanted to get involved, she
wanted to get revenge for the people who’d been hurt today. But she didn’t want to risk having
more of her people hurt.

Harry looked over at his dad for advice and thankfully the man stepped in.

“Madam President.” He said. “We would be honored to work with you in anyway you and your
colleagues deem best.”

“We?” She asked. “I’m offering an alliance with Mr. Potter.”

“I am working with him.” His dad said. “As are the Avengers. Mr. Potter has also secured an
alliance with King Odin, who has offered us the use of his Asgardian warriors when the time
comes. We didn’t have time to call them for this attack but now that we know You-Know-Who is
willing to go this far, we plan on creating a system to call for help from Asgard.”

“You’ve been building an army then, Potter?” The president asked.

“Sort of?” He said. “I didn’t ask Odin to do that he just…”

“Offered?” She finished for him. “I can see why he would. Very well Mr. Potter. If it works for
you, would you be willing to meet with us and discuss this potential alliance?”

“You want to meet with me?” Harry asked. “But I’m…”

“The leader of the rebellion.” She finished. “At least the one I’m willing to work with.”

“I…uhmm…” Harry swallowed, his tongue felt too big for his mouth for some reason. “Maybe we
could meet in a week? Just so you and all the others can talk out what you want to do?”

And so he could have a panic attack in privacy.

The woman smiled at him and nodded.

“That sounds like an excellent plan.” She said. “Where are you staying?”

“With the Avengers.” Harry said. “You can send me an owl with the details there and I’ll come to
you.”

“Wonderful.” She said holding out a hand again. Harry took it and hoped his palms weren’t too
sweaty. “It is going to be pleasure working with you, Mr. Potter.”

“Yeah, I totally…yes.” Harry said stupidly causing the woman to smile just a little wider before
letting go of his hand. She took her leave after promising to send that owl with the meeting details
as soon as she could but that it might be a few days before things were calm enough for her to do
so. She did after all, have to repair a seriously damaged city center. Harry nodded along to all of
this and wished her luck.

When they were finally alone Harry collapsed a little, his knees going weak. His dad wrapped his
arm around his waist and kept him upright, taking all of Harry’s weight off of his feet.

“I…I don’t know what just happened.”

“Politics.” His dad said. “You did very well actually. Did you plan on being that bashful because
that was an inspired move. She was eating that up.”

“I wasn’t…” Harry trailed off when his dad’s words finally sunk in. “bashful?”

“Oh Starlight.” His dad sighed. “You’ve got so much to learn and only a week to do it in.”

“Why do I have to do it?” Harry asked, his voice a half whine.

“Because you’re the leader of the rebellion.” His dad said gleefully. “You’re the person that
Asgard will follow, that the Avengers will follow, that I will follow.”

His dad finally looked at him and Harry wasn’t sure what he saw but it made the pride and glee
fade from his face. It was replaced with something far sadder and more somber.

“It’s going to be okay.” His dad promised. “Whatever happens, I’ll be right by your side. I’m a
prince and so are you. We can handle the politics of this together, I swear it. Just trust me?”

“Yeah, okay.” Harry said. “I trust you.”

“Good. Now, let’s get back to the tower. We have the Order to appease now and I suspect that is
going to be far more difficult than any number of American Presidents.”

“They have like 50 of ‘em.” Harry whispered causing his dad to shudder a little.

“My statement still stands.”

Harry looked around the square and noticed that the Order Members had disappeared. Probably to
the tower.

“Okay. Let’s get to the tower.” Harry said, right before his stomach grumbled. He blushed a little
at his dad’s grin.

“We’ll eat while we talk.”

And with that promise they were whisked away in a plume of his dad’s magic. They landed
moments later in the tower, just as his dad had promised. They were in his dad’s room, and his dad
carefully helped Harry out of his armor and into some comfortable sweat pants. From there they
walked to the conference room that Jarvis told them to go to. The room had been transformed from
a boring if functional space to hold meetings in, to something akin to a gigantic living room.

Someone, Harry assumed it had been Sirius and Remus, had transfigured everything into
comfortable chairs and couches. The Avengers and the Order were all mingled throughout the
room.

“You’re finally here!” Thor shouted. “What took so long?”

“We got held up by the Americans.” His dad said. “President Sanchez is interested in an alliance
between us and the American Magical Union.”

“She’s interested in an alliance with me.” Harry said. “She didn’t like you at all.”

“Yes well I did do my best to level her city a few years ago.” His dad said with a roll of his eyes.
“Anyway, she wants to set up a meeting with our illustrious leader in the next week or so.”

“Our leader?” Tony asked motioning to Captain America.

“No. Me.” Harry said. “Sorry Steve?”

“Honestly I’m more than happy to let you take the reins kid.” Steve said. “Congrats you’re the
new captain.”

“Yeah.” Sirius added. “From now on he’ll just be Mr. America.”

“That makes him sound like a beauty pageant winner.” Clint complained.

“Are you saying I couldn’t win a beauty pageant?”

“Oh don’t worry Steve, you’re the prettiest boy here.” Natasha said patting the man’s arm in a faux
comforting manner.

“As amusing as I’m sure you find this.” Snape interrupted; a sneer firmly painted on his face. “We
have things to discuss do we not?”

“Right.” His dad said. “Of course we do. Tony please tell me you ordered food?”

“An army’s worth is on it’s way now.” The man said. “Figured your little tyke would be starved
after the fight.”

“I’m taller than you.” Harry pointed out.

“You’re a little baby.” Tony told him which made Harry roll his eyes.

“Come on.” His dad ushered Harry over to the one couch that was still empty. Ron was seated with
his parents and the twins while Hermione was with her own parents. The Grangers looked slightly
unnerved by the amount of wizards in the room, or perhaps that was because Hermione had just
went out and fought terrorists. Mrs. Weasley had her patented look of righteous frustration as she
held Ron to her side, he was still in his armor.

His dad situated them onto the couch before conjuring a few snacks for Harry to eat. Harry knew
the man wouldn’t start talking until Harry was taken care of so he let the man conjure blankets and
pillows from somewhere so that he was cradled in a way the put the least amount of strain on his
pained body,

“There.” He said. “Now we can start.”

“Finally.” Sirius said. “Are you sure you don’t want to give him a crown?”

“Harry decided he doesn’t like how Asgardian crowns look.” His dad sniffed. “Although they do
make him look very handsome.”

“Dad.”

“Right.” He said. “Now where to begin…I suppose I could begin with my decision to become
James and go from there? Yes that seems appropriate.”

It was a story Harry had heard before, a story he had already told before. His dad spoke of his
decision to become human and then everything that happened after, including Harry’s arrival and
their saving of Sirius. During his story the Order listened and managed to keep their reactions
mostly to themselves. Harry spent most of his dad’s monologue drinking the Asgardian tea his dad
had conjured for him and studying Dumbledore. The older man looked strangely shaken, and his
eyes were tense in the way that Harry knew meant he was suppressing physical pain.

He also wasn’t looking at Harry.

No one else seemed to notice at how careful the headmaster was to look at Loki but not at Harry.
Harry wanted the man to look at him. He wanted to look into those twinkling blue eyes and
discover if there was any guilt in them. Did the man feel regret? Did he even care what Harry had
gone through? But Dumbledore didn’t give him that.

His mind went back to the quandary of what he wanted to do about Dumbledore and started rolling
that over in his head again. Torture didn’t sit right with him and it probably never would. But still
he thought about all the pain, all the sorrow and loss, that Dumbledore had had a hand in and he
wondered what could ever make that right? He was so furious with the man, he wanted him to
hurt…didn’t he?

No answers came to him and he was left with an odd taste on his tongue for his troubles.

“So…” His dad said. “That’s that. Although, wait a moment, how did you discover the truth? I
can’t recall.”

“Mum.” Harry said licking his lips and taking control of the story. “Sirius had sent me a journal
he’d found that belonged to my mum before the attack on the ministry. I read it and knew the truth.
And I was so angry because I thought my dad had abandoned me and everyone else. I wanted
answers. So I went to get them.”

“Typical.” Snape sneered. “You do realize Mr. Potter that running away to America without
permission caused a panic amongst the Order and wasted precious resources on a man hunt?”

Harry remembered what his dad had told him about Occulmency and he felt a muscle in his jaw
twitch as he looked the potions professor dead in the eyes.

“Well that’s not my fault is it?” He snapped.

“Mr. Potter-”
“No. Shut up.” Harry told the man. “No one in the Order gives a bloody damn about me during the
summer. None of you do. You send me off to the Dursleys and then you forget about me for the
next three months. Only Ron and Hermione ever write to me and that’s only when you let them.
How in the hell was I supposed to know you’d check up on me? It’s not like any of you ever have
before.”

He saw out of the corner of his eye, Molly Weasley’s stricken look and he couldn’t even bring
himself to feel guilty about it.

“In what world was I supposed to think that the Order would care about me now?”

“Surprisingly we have more things to be doing than catering to your every whim Potter.”

“Do you really?” Harry said. “Cause I’m pretty damn sure that without me this entire rebellion is
pointless.”

“You arrogant, insolent-”

“Severus please do watch your tongue.” His dad said, a smile in his voice that was the exact
opposite of kind. “James might have been willing to forgive a slight or two but rest assured that
Loki does not.”

Before Snape could reply to that Jarvis interrupted to tell everyone that the food was here. Thor and
Steve immediately volunteered to go get it, knowing that the insane volume of food would be far
too heavy for a normal human to carry. Harry honestly felt a bit bad for the delivery guys. Harry
elbowed his dad and gave him a look. He sighed and got up.

“I’ll go get it.” He said. “It’ll be quicker if I do.”

With that he teleported away in a plume of green, his typical way of moving about the tower.

“Look.” Harry said. “I had to get answers and I got them. I’ve been here, with my dad, safe for the
entire summer. I didn’t think I had to tell any of you anything since none of you ever check up on
me and none of you are my guardians. I don’t need permission from any of you to do what I think
is best for myself and I’m not going to let you bully me into thinking otherwise.”

“But Harry, we were so worried!” Molly said.

“Were you worried when I went to my relatives to mourn Sirius all by myself?” Harry asked her,
his voice gentle but stern. “Especially since we all knew that Tom Riddle has the power to possess
me at anytime regardless of the blood wards? I could have been attacked by him every night and
no one could have done anything for me since I was all alone.”

She looked truly horrified then and Harry winced.

“I’m not trying to make you feel bad I’m just pointing out that I wasn’t any safer with the Dursleys
than I am anywhere else.”

Asgard aside. Harry still didn’t like to think about his time there, it made something in his heart
prick and his throat would sometimes close up. He sniffed.

“I did what was right.” Harry said. “And now we all know the truth. And we were able to save
Sirius from the veil.”

“As touching as this all is.” Dumbledore said, finally looking at Harry. “I’m afraid that it can’t be
allowed to continue. Harry, the blood wards are failing, remaining away from your home any
longer will destroy them completely.”

Harry looked the man dead in the eyes. Unlike his father he wasn’t glaring at the old man with a
sense of terrifying divine wrath. Harry had no idea but in that moment he was glaring at Albus in a
way only Lily Evans ever could. His dad returned almost silently, bags upon bags of food floating
around him. Harry didn’t look at him as he spoke to Dumbledore, his voice final and cutting.

“That is not my home. My dad is my home, not them.”

And with that a protection Dumbledore had laid on him over 14 years ago shattered like stained
glass. Harry expected to feel something, a loss of some sort. Part of him had wondered if the blood
wards had been what allowed his mother’s magic, her sacrifice to remain with him. His dad had
told him that her magic was there, that Harry had been carrying it around all his life and he hadn’t
wanted to lose that.

But the blood wards had to go.

And go they did. Harry felt the magic crack and shatter into nothing but dust. He didn’t feel
different or empty. Nothing from within him slipped away. In fact, it felt like he’d just taken off a
coat that didn’t fit quite right.

“What have you done?” Dumbledore demanded as if he already didn’t know.

“What I should have done years ago.” Harry said before turning to his dad. His dad was staring at
him, his eyes only slightly misty. Harry gave him a small smile from his position on the couch. “Is
that Chinese I smell? Can I have the Orange Chicken dad?”

“I…yes.” He said shaking himself. “Let’s just set all of this out then.”

“Without the blood wards you are at Tom’s mercy.” Dumbledore said.

“I already was.” Harry said carelessly. “At least this way I get to be happy.”

“But-”

“He made his decision Albus.” His dad said. “And he’s not going to change his mind on it. Besides
you know just as well as I do that once someone has renounced a home blood wards will never
function there again. I’m surprised they lasted as long as they did, even when I first met Harry I
could sense those things were practically useless. Have they always been that weak?”

“Pretty much.” Harry told his dad as his dad handed him the large white box filled with food. He
didn’t elaborate on why that was and his dad didn’t ask why he felt no love for the people who had
supposedly raised him in his place. Something Harry was eternally grateful for.

“Well then that’s hardly much of a loss anyway. Don’t look so glum Albus, I’m more than capable
of protecting my son.”

“Was he not severely injured in this last fight?” Snape asked, a sneer clear in his voice. His dad
didn’t even pause as he moved around handing out food to people. He acted as if he hadn’t even
heard Snape’s question, which made a look of faint annoyance pass over his face. Harry lifted a
hand to cover his smirk but not quick enough for Snape not to see it. “Taking after your father more
than ever I see, Potter?”

“No.” Harry said, his voice deceptively calm. “I’m taking after my mother.”
Harry knew he didn’t imagine the minute flinch in the man’s dark eyes when Harry looked at him
dead on. And suddenly Harry felt very powerful indeed. He held Snape’s gaze demanding that he
see him and not his father’s ghost. For all that Harry loved his dad, and truly he did, he really
wasn’t much like his dad in most ways at all.

His dad, after all, was not interested in extending Dumbledore any form of mercy.

“My mother would never want me to live in a place I wasn’t happy.” Harry said firmly. “She
sacrificed her life so that I could live, not so that I could suffer. I’m not going to dismiss her love
for me by twisting her sacrifice into something that it wasn’t. I’m not going back to the Dursleys
and I’m not going to let the Order tell me what to do. I’m the one who has to defeat Tom Riddle
and it’s time I acted like it instead of a stupid kid that anyone can push around.”

“The Order is the world’s best shot at winning this war Potter.” Mad-Eye Moody said.

“No, I am.” Harry snapped. “That stupid prophecy is about me. Not any of you! The Order needs
me way more than I need it. All this time you’ve treated me like an object to be locked away when
you don’t need me, like a trophy to wave around to the other side. No more! So, if you’re not going
to respect me and my family, then just leave. And do let the door hit you on the way out!”

They were gaping at him but Harry couldn’t bother to feel embarrassed. He had just faced
Voldemort and 50 American presidents all in one day. He wasn’t going to let the Order bully him
around anymore. He wasn’t going to be bullied anymore.

“Well.” The headmaster said. “What exactly do you wish from the Order then Mr. Potter?”

“I want to go to meetings. You’re not going to hide things from me just because you think I’m a kid
who shouldn’t hear it. At this point I’ve fought Voldemort more times than pretty much anyone
else in the world. I’m not innocent and I don’t need to be protected from the truth.” Harry said
folding his arms. “If I’m not properly and regularly informed of things then I won’t work with The
Order. I won’t let anyone on my side work with you either. I can work with my dad, the armies of
Asgard, the Avengers, and probably the Americans just fine without any of you.”

The headmaster looked around at the rest of the Order Members. Harry was aware that he’d hurt
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley’s feelings. He made a note to apologize to them later, to explain better.
When the headmaster finally looked back at him, it was with something like defeat in his eyes.

“Very well Harry.”

And that, was that.

 Harry's First Flame Party
Chapter Summary

They finally have that party Loki insisted they throw to celebrate Harry coming into
his own.

Chapter Notes

Hey everyone!! Thank you so much for the amazing responses last week! I'm so glad
you enjoyed it!! I can't wait to read your comments this week! <3

Harry’s first flame party was…understandably tense, at least at first. Plenty of the Order members
had been asked to leave once everything had been explained to them. Harry’s dad had promised to
bring Harry and everyone else to London for a full meeting in a week’s time. Dumbledore had been
understandably reluctant to leave before getting a chance to get anything more out of the situation,
but his dad had been firm.

Harry had been sent to bed with a promise that the party would be the next day. Tony had been
kind enough to give the Weasleys and Tonks, who’d been invited to stay for the party, guest rooms
for the night. The Weasleys because they were practically Harry’s family, and Tonks because she
was good friends with Remus and Sirius. Harry also admired her quite a bit. His dad had popped
back to London with Mrs. Weasley to get Ginny from the Burrow and bring her to New York so
she wouldn’t be alone in Britain.

In the morning, after a tense breakfast with the magic users while Mr. and Mrs. Weasley avoided
looking at Harry due to their guilt, the party began. His dad was forcibly cheerful as he showed off
the purple flame that was still merrily burning in the sconce his dad had conjured. It looked to be
roughly the same size it had been when his dad had first placed it there. Harry wasn’t really sure
what that meant but his dad certainly seemed pleased by it.

The first part of the party was more ritualistic. Thor and Loki performed the whole thing with
much more gravitas than Harry expected. He was forced to stand next to his first flame while Thor
offered him a sword, and his dad offered him a bit of his own green magic, symbolically
representing Harry’s growth into adulthood. Harry didn’t feel like an adult, but this was about as
close to a birthday party he’d ever gotten that wasn’t tinged with some sort of drama. He was
determined to enjoy it, to make this a pocket of joy.

Once the ritual was done and Loki had introduced him as tradition required, a young man
beginning his journey into maturity, the party became far more familiar to him. There was a table
of food and drinks, Jarvis was playing fun muggle music at an appropriate volume, and
conversations flowed throughout the room.

The first people to congratulate Harry were Sirius and Remus. Sirius pulled Harry into a hug and
mussed up his hair with a fist. It had taken Harry time to get used to these sorts of touches. His dad
and Thor had been terribly careful with how they touched him in the beginning. Only doing it
when he could see and had warning of it, always softly.

Sirius had been much the opposite. He was rough with his affection, sort of like an oversized dog
who jumped on people when it got excited. Sirius had touched Harry so often, with and without
warning, that he’d been rapidly desensitized to it. He’d actually sort of appreciated it because on
some level it proved that Sirius was really truly alive and with him again. When Harry had started
responding to Sirius in kind, most everyone else had also started to be a bit freer with their touches.

Harry was quite sure he’d been touched more often in the past few weeks alone than he had been in
the last decade combined.

“I’m so proud of you pup!” Sirius said releasing Harry from the hug. “Your first flame!”

“You don’t even know what that means.” Harry said.

“It means that it’s important enough to make James smile like that. Kid I haven’t seen him look this
giddy since Lily agreed to marry him.” Sirius said nudging Harry in the side with an elbow. Harry
giggled a little at that. “Anyway. I figured since I’ve got so many years of presents to catch up on I
could get you something now and then something next month for your birthday!”

“You got me something?”

“Oh don’t look so surprised!” Sirius said. “Trust me you’re gonna love it! I had to search all over
New York until I found the perfect one!”

Sirius snapped his fingers wandlessly conjuring a brightly wrapped box. Harry grabbed the box
from the air and gave it an experimental shake. When nothing made a noise, he ripped at the paper
and opened the box. Inside was something made of supple black leather. Harry carefully removed
the item to reveal it was a leather jacket.

“Cool right?” Sirius asked. “It’s just like the one I used to have! I wore that all the time at your
age!”

“I know.” Harry said. “I’ve seen the pictures.”

“Put it on!” Sirius insisted. “You’ll be a regular lady killer with a jacket like that, mark my words!”

Harry smiled and pulled on the brand new jacket. It fit well on him, the lines on the shoulders
molding to his own body. The folds on the chest of the jacket looked crisp and clean and the
sleeves of the jacket only bunched a little at his elbow in a way he was pretty sure was intentional.

“See!” Sirius said. “Remus doesn’t he look sharp?”

“Yeah.” Remus said. “It does look good, although I’m not sure it’s his style.”

“Of course, it’s his style! A leather jacket looks good on anyone!”

“Thanks Sirius. I love it.”

“Check out the pockets on that! I charmed them so that they’d fit practically anything in there!”
Harry dutifully reached into the front pockets and found that they were significantly larger than he
expected them to be. He smiled, ready to thank Sirius again, when his fingers brushed up against
something. He grabbed at the metal and pulled it out to reveal a key ring with one silver key on it.
“And that’s part two!”
“Part two?”

“You can’t have a leather jacket like that without an accessory to go with it!”

“Sirius.” Remus growled.

“Don’t be like that Moony! Kid’s almost 16, totally old enough to own a flying motorcycle
enchanted by yours truly.”

“A flying motorcycle?” Harry squeaked.

“Yep I heard about your flying car incident and I knew you’d just love something a bit more
portable. My first motorcycle got lost after I was sent to Azkaban, so I bought a new one for you
and magicked it perfectly. Once we can sneak out from under your dad’s nose I’ll take you out and
show you how to drive it.”

Harry sniffed once and then pulled Sirius into a hug, hiding his now blinding smile in the man’s
shoulder.

“Thank you.”

“What are godfathers for?”

“Sirius. I can’t believe you’re being so irresponsible!”

“Oh please. Like you got him something sensible!”

“For your information I got him a book.” Remus said in a very snooty tone. The man waved his
wand, conjuring the book which had been wrapped in silvery paper. Harry laughed a little and let
go of Sirius to take the book. Carefully Harry unwrapped it too, letting the paper drop next to the
box Sirius’ gift had come in. All three of them looked at the title.

“Really Remus? You’re gonna claim the moral high ground?”

“Well it’s not like I wasn’t going to be there to monitor him and his friends.”

“You got me a book on animagi?” Harry wheezed.

“Not just a book.” Remus said. “The book. This is the book your dad and the others used to manage
their own transformations all those years ago. It’s filled with their notes and tricks. If you started
now, you and your friends could probably manage the whole thing by the time summer ends.”

Harry could hardly believe his eyes. He opened the leather tome and saw to his pleasure there were
three signatures on the cover page. Prongs, Padfoot, and Wormtail. Harry leafed through the book
and saw jokes written in the margins and sentences that were roughly crossed out and replaced with
frustrated corrections. Sirius and Remus were now arguing with each other about which of their
gifts could be considered more irresponsible. Harry closed the book and then pulled Remus into a
hug.

“I love it.” Harry said. “Thank you!”

“Just don’t tell your dad who gave it to you.” Remus said. “It’s our job as your honorary uncles to
teach you things that would horrify your dad.”

Harry giggled at that and promised to keep it secret.

“Good. Don’t hesitate to ask either of us questions while you’re working on it. When you need
supplies let me know. I’ll get you everything you need.” Remus promised with a smirk, he looked
far too pleased with himself.

“Oh look. James’ noticed us. Hide that book and get outta here pup. We’ll distract him.” Sirius
said.

Harry grinned and stuffed the book into the pocket of his new jacket. He’d tell his friends about it
later out of earshot of the adults so that they could start work on it right away. He skipped away
and heard his dad start demanding explanations from his friends about the looks in their eyes.

“Harry!” Thor called out. “Come over here!”

Harry turned on his heel and made his way over to Thor who’d been in the middle of talking to
Tonks about Asgard. Tonks gave Harry a pat on the back in congratulations and told them that she
was going to get a snack.

“I’ve a gift for you.” Thor said. “Do you recall the conversation we had in Asgard?”

“I…yeah I remember.” Harry said looking at his feet for a moment. “If you’re trying to change my
mind…”

“I’m not. I respect your decision.” Thor said firmly. “But I think my idea might be too your liking.”

“Well let’s hear it.” Harry said folding his arms over his chest.

“Tyr is one of the most respected warriors in all of Asgard. He is interested in apprenticing you,
you truly impressed him during your time in Asgard. Not to mention the other trainees are missing
their new friend.”

“They miss me?” Harry asked.

“They do.” Thor confirmed. “Although Baldur didn’t seem pleased to learn your identity.”

“He didn’t like me much.” Harry said with a grin. “Seemed a bit jealous really.”

“Of course he would be!” Thor said. “I explained to Tyr the situation that you couldn’t live in
Asgard, that you had a duty to your home. He insisted that I extend this offer to you.”

“Which is?”

“Once a week you come to Asgard and train with him and the others. Only for the afternoon.” Thor
said seriously. “Heimdall would keep an eye on earth while you were there and Loki would create
a communication method so that you could be alerted immediately if anything were to happen.
You’d train with him personally for half the day and then for the rest of the week your father and I
would help you practice.”

“I…” Harry really had no words to use. Thor gave him a smile and a light squeeze on his arm.

“Harry. There is no one better in all the nine realms to teach you how to weild a blade. Not only
that but he’ll teach you how to dodge and block better than anyone.” Thor said. “You could grow
so much and every moment you spent in Asgard would be helping you become the best warrior
you can be, better than Tom.”

“I don’t know…” Harry trailed off. “You know how I feel about Asgard.”
“A little peace in your life isn’t going to harm anything.” Thor said. “I promise you, if anything
happens on earth you’ll be able to come right home. You can have this without guilt. I swear to you
on my hammer, I’ll defend this planet with everything I have while you’re off learning. That’s my
gift to you, I’m promising you peace of mind while you’re in Asgard.”

Harry swallowed back the lump that had formed in his throat. Thor somehow managed to find
exactly the right words to pierce his gut.

“Can… can Ron and Hermione come with me?” Harry asked, turning his head to look at his two
friends. “They should learn too, we’re in this together.”

“I don’t see why not. Although you will have to convince Ron’s parents to allow it.” Thor said.
“You’ve got to understand. Tyr is desperate to teach you, if that means teaching two humans how
to have your back then he’ll do it. Might even be happy to do it once he sees how fearsome
Hermione is.”

“I’ll talk to them then.” Harry said. “But what about when I go back to school?”

“I’m sure we’ll find something that works with your schedule.” Thor said grinning. “You’re going
to love it Harry. Trust me.”

“Is this like the Asgardian version of loving it where I get a bunch of bruises?”

“Obviously!”

Harry laughed and thanked Thor for the gift. He imagined it was difficult to get these sorts of
accommodations for Harry together. Tyr didn’t seem like the sort of guy to give people these sorts
of allowances easily. It warmed Harry to know that Thor had listened to his concerns, truly listened
to them, and had then found a solution to Harry’s problem. It made his throat feel sore just thinking
about it.

Harry wandered away from Thor, looking out at the party. There was still some tension in the
room. The Weasleys were causing it inadvertently with the Avengers, those who knew the truth
and those who didn’t clashing with every other sentence. Ron was huddled over by Hermione, still
rather upset with his parents for being so strict with him the day before. When Mrs. Weasley had
figured out that Ron had known where Harry was the whole time she had been very displeased.

The twins were talking with Bruce of all people, strangely enough Bruce didn’t seem annoyed or
bothered, although there was a weird sort of tension going through his frame. Ginny, being who
she was, was talking with Steve about whatever she felt appropriate. Harry thought he heard her
telling the man that she was the one who’d taught Harry how to punch.

“If I’d known why he wanted to know I would’ve taught him my bat bogey hex.”

Harry shivered at the mention of that spell. Despite the lingering tension in the room, he felt
strangely buoyant. Just yesterday he’d stood up to a bunch of government officials and somehow
managed to get them to listen to him, trust him. He had also found the courage to throw off the
blood wards and forsake the Dursleys completely. He’d demanded respect and happiness and he’d
won it, at least for now.

It felt almost dreamlike. He really was staying here for the summer. Nothing would keep him from
spending this summer as he had the past few weeks. Learning magic from his dad, training with
Thor and the others. Movie nights where he could cuddle up with his dad and fall asleep on his
shoulder. He could cook meals whenever he wanted and share food with people who genuinely
appreciated it. No one was going to make him leave, no one could.

He was hit with the realization as he touched the soft leather he was wearing, that this is how it
should have always been. Perhaps not in Avengers tower but this feeling. It should have always
been with him. Sirius and Remus should have always been sneaking him gifts his parents wouldn’t
have wanted him to have. Thor should have always been there finding ways to tempt Harry to
spend time in Asgard instead of earth.

It should have always been this way. He should have always had it. He thought back again to the
man who had deprived him of this life for so long, who had actively chosen to have him live in
misery for the good of the world. Dumbledore was gone but his presence was still felt. In the
loyalties of the Order members and in the disgust of the Avengers. Harry didn’t know how to feel,
not truly, not anymore.

Even with a night of sleep he was still as confused as ever. His conversation with his dad,
interrupted as it had been, hadn’t helped him any. His dad was so certain, so sure. Revenge and
Justice were the same, they were right and it would be his dad’s pleasure to administer them. Sirius
and Remus were obviously of the same opinion. They had been robbed of over a decade of
happiness, just like him, and they knew they should do something about it. Thor was much the
same. Wishing to met out revenge in the name of those who had been hurt directly, never once
wondering if that was the right thing.

Harry’s ears still rung when he remembered Hermione and Ron’s rants about what they would do
to Dumbledore if given half a chance. Harry also understood now that all of the Avengers hated
Dumbledore too. In their eyes nothing justified what he’d done. He suspected that they had guessed
a little of what the Dursleys had been like and it disgusted them. They wanted to Avenge. That’s
what they were there for, to avenge the hurt of the world.

But it still settled oddly in his gut. What was wrong with him? Why did the idea of killing
Voldemort or torturing Dumbledore leave him feeling so off? Voldemort was a monster, he needed
to be killed, if allowed to live he would just kill more and more innocent people. Harry knew that.
He knew. Yet he could still remember the Tom Riddle who’d begged his own headmaster to be
allowed to go anywhere else for the summer than his orphanage. It made Harry ache with empathy.
Unlike Harry, no one had ever opened their home to Tom and the world was witnessing the
consequences.

Tom Riddle wasn’t in the right. He was evil. He had chosen that path, a path that Harry had
denied. He would not stay in a jail, and Harry knew he wouldn’t surrender. But whenever Harry
imagined using his sword on the snake faced monster like he had with those Draugr an awful
sensation formed in his stomach. Why did the thought of killing someone so awful make him feel
guilty? There was nothing wrong with it, at least not in this instance. Why did getting revenge
against those who wronged him make his mouth taste like ash?

He wondered who he could talk to. Who could help him with this. It seemed like all of the adults in
his life had already come to a different conclusion than him. Besides how could Harry argue with
them about their right to get revenge? Dumbledore had hurt them as much as he’d hurt him. Harry
was at a loss.

“Harry dear.” Mrs. Weasley said. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” Harry said giving a small smile to the woman. “It’s my party, why wouldn’t I be fine?”

“It’s just well…” She fretted. “So much has happened recently and I admit that I haven’t been here
as much for you as I could have been.”
“Mrs. Weasley.” Harry said firmly. “You gave me my first real Christmas present. You always
opened your home to me when you could and you fed me even when you were struggling. You let
me be friends with your children even though I tend to run into danger all the time.”

“But we…we left you with those muggles.” She spat. “I knew you weren’t happy there! I knew
from the moment my boys rescued you in Arthur’s car and I just…I let you go back!”

Harry easily reached out and took the woman’s hand making her look at him.

“I forgive you.” He said sounding far more confident than he had when he’d told Odin those same
words. In truth it was easy to say it to her. He would always love Mrs. Weasley and her husband for
being the very first adults to show him what parents could really be like. Even if they’d never
really been his parents like he’d dreamt sometimes, they’d still given him warmth and love and
comfort without expecting anything in return. “You thought you were doing what was best for me
and for your family. It wasn’t the right choice but it wasn’t done because you were trying to be
mean.”

“Oh Harry.” She said. “I just wanted you to be safe. Dumbledore told me that you’d be safe with
the Dursleys even if they didn’t make you feel happy. I thought I could make up for it, give you
enough love when you were around to help you when you weren’t.”

“I knew you loved me.” Harry said. “I knew you saw me as a seventh son, but that wasn’t enough.”

Harry bit his lip and looked around at the room of people. He hadn’t realized until quite recently
how twisted his mind had been, how lost he’d felt.

“The Dursleys made me feel like I didn’t matter.” Harry told her. “They spent my whole life
making me feel that way. I didn’t even realize I thought like that, that I believed that until my dad.”

“Of course, you matter Harry! Of course, you do!”

“Mrs. Weasley. Every time Dumbledore sent me back to the Dursleys it just convinced me that I
didn’t. I knew you loved me, but I believed you didn’t love me enough, that I didn’t deserve
anything you gave me.” Harry said trying to make her understand. “I thought I deserved it, being
there, that that was how it was supposed to be.”

The woman’s face crumpled, and Harry let her pull him into a hug. She cried into his shoulder,
apologies and promises that she loved him and that he mattered, that he’d never deserved any of it.
And right then Harry knew that. He might not tomorrow, just like he might try to run away from his
friends to protect them. But right now, he knew down to his very core that what she was saying
was true. He wanted to hold on that feeling, that knowledge for as long as he could.

“I’m okay now.” He told her, hugging her back. “You couldn’t teach me that. I had to figure it out
myself and I couldn’t do that in Surrey. I had to leave England, had to get far enough away that I
could think clearly. Do you understand why Ron lied now? He knew I needed to figure this out, he
was protecting me like he always does.”

“I do.” She said. “I am so angry I didn’t see the truth sooner, Harry. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive
myself. But I know why Ron thought he had to lie to me. I’d sent you back to those muggles
before and Ron couldn’t trust that I’d see the truth. I’ve failed you both.”

It felt both awful and good to hear all at once. Awful because he hated making anyone feel guilty
or bad. Good because he’d secretly always wanted an apology from them. He’d wondered
sometimes when Uncle Vernon locked him up for the fifth time that week why Molly and Arthur
never did more for him. They claimed to care but they left him there anyway.

“It’s okay.” Harry said, echoing the same advice he’d given to Odin. “You can do better in the
future. Maybe trust Ron a little more? He and I are best mates and he wants to be by my side, help
me win this war. I don’t want to make him choose between his family and me, Mrs. Weasley.
Don’t make him choose. Please.”

“Oh, my dear boy.” She said, lifting up a hand and cupping his cheek tenderly. “How can he make
a choice when they’re the same? You’re his family just as much as I am. You should have your
own hand on our family clock at this point, I think. It’d make me worry less. I raised Ron to be
loyal to the right thing, I should’ve predicted he’d be just like my brothers. Keeping him from you,
from the fight, won’t work. Forgive me for feeling overprotective, I don’t want to lose any more
family.”

Harry didn’t know much about Molly’s family. He guessed that her brothers had died since Ron
had never mentioned any uncles. Probably in the war.

“Ron’s been invited to learn defense with me on Asgard.” Harry said. “Just once a week for the
afternoon, he could learn how to defend himself from the best. It’s not the same as wrapping him
up in bubble wrap but maybe it would help you feel better? If you knew he really knew what he
was doing?”

“Yes.” She said after a moment. “I’m not ever going to stop worrying about my baby boy but…but
knowing he’s learning how to defend himself, it might make me fret just a bit less. I’ll need to talk
to Arthur about it, you understand.”

“Course.”

“Thank you, Harry. You make me proud every day, from the moment we met in King’s Cross, I’ve
known you were so kind and brave. I love you dear boy.”

Harry hugged her again. The woman who was as close to a mother as he could ever remember
having. She wasn’t perfect, far from it, but she was present and real. Most importantly she was
trying. While he knew she was nothing like what his own mum would have been like, it made the
hole in his heart ache a little less knowing he’d been found by her. Molly Weasley hugged him
tightly and placed a wet kiss on his forehead just like she did with all the rest of her children. Harry
faked a noise of complaint, mirroring Ron’s own actions.

Harry disentangled himself from the hug and made his way over to Ron and Hermione, a skip still
in his step. His friends were sipping on cups of soda and talking amongst themselves. They grinned
as he neared them.

“You’ll never guess what Remus got me for my first flame.” He said.

“What?” Ron asked straightening up immediately.

Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out the book. He held it up so that both of his friends
could read the title.

“Oh brilliant!”

“You know this is something I’ve really been meaning to research!”

“He said if we started right away, we could manage it by the end of the summer.”
At his friends’ excitement Harry found his eyes being drawn over to his dad, who was now talking
to Arthur and Tony about enchanting muggle objects. Maybe the party had been a great idea after
all.
 Father-Son Magic Lessons
Chapter Summary

Loki and Harry sit down for the first of many asgardian magic lessons

Chapter Notes

This one is pretty lore heavy folks! Please forgive me rambling on about how I think
magic works lol.

“Alright.” Loki said rubbing his hands together. “Are you ready Starlight?”

Harry looked up at him from his position on the ground. He was sitting cross legged on a pillow.
Loki had instructed his son to wear something comfortable and his son had taken that to mean his
pajamas, a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt that was slightly too large. With Tony’s help Loki had
been able to expand his son’s wardrobe over the past month and now Harry had plenty of things to
wear, it warmed something in Loki every time he saw his son wearing something that fit and that
suited him.

“Course.” Harry said, wiggling a little in place. “I thought we’d never get around to doing this.”

“In my defense you had that meeting with the Americans and then there were your lessons with Tyr
and then the meeting with the Order in London.” His dad said. “With your training schedule and
the work you’re doing with Hermione and Ron, you’ve hardly had time to relax. I’ve also been
busy training the Avengers in magical fighting tactics. Things have gotten quite busy.”

“But in a good way, right?” Harry asked, unsure for a moment. “I know I’ve totally changed how
you and the Avengers do things…”

“A change for the better I assure you.” Loki said sitting down in front of his son, he crossed his
legs and they were just close enough that their kneecaps bumped lightly. “You’ve been here for
almost two months and we all adore you.”

“I like it here.” Harry said, sounding just a little bit awed that he could say that out loud.

“I’m glad.” Loki said. “Now. We’re here to help you learn Asgardian magic. It’s been a few weeks
since your first flame party and we really should have started lessons then but… well you know
things happen. Better late than never.”

The past few weeks had done wonders for Harry. He was almost a different person to the stick thin
boy who’d punched him in the face two months ago. Now, only two weeks from his son’s 16th
birthday, the boy looked like a demi-god. It was true he’d never have the bulky muscle of Thor, but
he’d filled out, thanks to the copious amounts of food Loki fed him each day. His son had grown
into his height and now instead of being a broom he was lithe and powerful. There was a healthy
glow to his skin that combined with the light tan he’d gotten from all the time he spent outdoors
made him look very dashing.

There were new callouses on his son’s hands from his sword work. Each day his son spent two
hours practicing with either Loki or Thor to work on the lessons Tyr gave. Tyr had been extremely
doubtful that Harry would progress quickly if he wasn’t in Asgard every day but Thor had
convinced him and Harry had quickly proven himself. Harry had taken to a sword beautifully too.

He’d had a tendency in the beginning to go on the defensive only. He was very careful to block hits
to himself, especially to his gut, and he tended to dart in and out of a fight, retreating whenever
there was a threat of a hit. Tyr had appreciated the caution but had disliked the lack of aggression.
Loki and Thor had worked hard to force Harry to start actually attacking his opponents instead of
just reacting to what was thrown at him. It was a work in progress still but Loki could see small
daily improvements.

Part of him liked the idea that his son was so defensive, it meant he was less likely to get hurt.
Granted he was aware that his son would eventually have to use his sword or his magic to kill
Voldemort, but that wasn’t something he liked to think about. Often when they practiced Harry
gravitated towards maneuvers and methods that would allow him to subdue opponents without
hurting them much. He still liked the disarming spell best. Loki didn’t have the heart to point out
that he wasn’t going to win the war by yelling ‘Expelliarmus’.

His daily practices, in which he was frequently joined by Ron and Hermione, had allowed him to
grow. His strength grew too, now that he was properly using his Asgardian muscles, his body was
growing to it’s fullest potential. Tony had been more amused than annoyed when Harry kept
breaking things with his growing strength, thankfully. Ron and Hermione had also grown stronger
and more confident, although their muscles took much longer to grow than Harry’s, his godly
ancestry helped him heal much faster after each practice.

That didn’t mean the two other teens didn’t keep up. Tyr had been insanely impressed by Harry’s
shield siblings. Ron with his long, almost gangly, limbs had started learning to use a bow. And he
was good at it. There had been a sharp learning curve at first but Ron had excellent aim. It was all
a matter of strengthening his arms so that he could hit things from a distance. When in Asgard
Fandral always swung by and the godly archer gave the boy tips. When he returned to the tower
Clint told Ron to forget everything Fandral told him and to listen to him instead.

Ron seemed delighted that two different adults were fighting for his attentions.

Hermione had, before going to Asgard for the first time, devoured 15 different books on weaponry
and created a chart detailing the pros and cons of each weapon as it related to her skills and
strengths. She’d marched right up to Tyr, showed him her research, and told him that she would
like to learn how to use a battle axe. Tyr had taken one look at the tiny girl, far shorter than any of
the other trainees with her bushy manic hair and snorted.

“Perhaps a dagger would be more appropriate?”

He hadn’t asked that question again after her first lesson when she’d picked up one of the training
axes, cast a spell on it to make it light enough for her human arms, and used it without hesitation to
attempt to cleave one of the other trainees in two. Hermione’s justification for using the axe was
that she could use it as she pleased in close quarters, she could also use the broad side as a shield
against spells, and use it as a way to quickly carve shapes into the ground or nearby walls for
offensive runic magic. The fact that she’d determined the battle axe to be the best match to her
magic had confused most at first and frightened most everyone after two weeks.

Volstagg the member of the warrior three that used a battle axe had been pleased to meet
Hermione. Even more pleased when she was happy to sit with him and listen to his advice on the
best sorts of chopping methods. It was almost sweet in a way. Hermione, always a sponge for
knowledge, was more than willing to listen to any of the warriors in Asgard drone about their
accomplishments as long as they were willing to answer her detailed and pointed questions.

Sif had also liked Hermione, offering the girl far more advice than she ever gave to any other
trainee. Sif was used to being smaller and slightly physically weaker than most of her opponents.
She helped Hermione adapt her fighting style so that it was more effective against her male
counterparts.

The three had learnt so much over the past few weeks but the biggest change had been wrought in
Harry. Loki had managed to help strengthen up Harry’s mental blocks against whatever thing was
in his scar, giving Harry the ability to sleep comfortably through the night. Harry had more than
enough food and he hardly ever flinched when people touched him. The suspicion and wariness in
his eyes had faded as well, leaving behind a relaxed teenager.

Harry held his head high now and he spoke his mind and demanded respect from people without
having to be spitting mad. He walked with confidence and his laughter came easily. It wasn’t
always perfect. Sometimes Harry had nightmares and generally the weekly meetings with the Order
always left Harry feeling mulish and frustrated. He also had a tendency to retreat into himself
whenever something bad happened. But things were improving, slowly if not as steadily as Loki
would have liked.

And now it was time for the next step. Loki had been training Harry and his friends in human
magic for the past month. But there were things that only Harry could learn. His Asgardian magic
was active now and it was important that Harry learnt to control and command it.

“So.” Harry said looking down at his hands for a moment. “What is the difference between the
magic I know and this stuff? You said it’s Asgardian magic but like…all magic comes from the
World Tree right? That’s what you told me. Shouldn’t it all be the same?”

“You’re correct. All magic does come from the Yggdrasil. Each magic user draws power from
there and stores it in their core. We’ve talked about cores before you and I, and about what makes
yours so unique.” Loki said causing Harry to nod. “For the most part Asgardian magic is very
similar. Asgardians just tend to have larger cores which means that they are capable of more
powerful spells.”

“But…?” Harry pushed.

“But there is a reason we’re called gods.”

“I thought that was just like a title?”

“No. You see when I say I’m the god of mischief what I mean is that I can access portions of the
Yggdrasil that others cannot. I can draw power from the magic that represents entropy and bend
that energy to my will. Thor, as the god of thunder, can access the magic of nature and command
the forces of nature in a way that no one else can. Yes, a powerful magic user can make a storm,
but they are not connected to the storm, not like Thor is. If they call a storm, they can’t control how
long the storm last or how strong it is. Beyond that Thor can call on specific portions of lightning
and thunder, to a degree that is unheard of in any other being.”

“Okay.” Harry said mulling that over in his head. “But you said that every Asgardian magic user
gets that flame thing-y like I do. So are they all gods?”
“Generally speaking yes.” Loki said. “Asgard has two classes of magic users. The mages and the
sorcerers. Mages are those who either have a small amount of magic, not enough to access the
higher planes of the Yggdrasil or who gain magical power through other means. And then there
are magic users like you and I, sorcerers who are born with great magical power and can produce a
flame. A flame is an indicator that you have the capability of becoming a god.”

Harry made a choked shocked noise which made Loki grin. He conjured a glass of cool water and
handed it to his son who drank it thankfully.

“I’m a god?” He asked once he’d calmed down some.

“No. Not yet at least. No one is born a god, it’s something you become.” Loki said. “And the path
is unique for everyone. What you decide to do with the power you already have will define you
and it may allow you to become more than what you are.”

“Oh.” Harry said. “But then if I’m not a god right now, then why do I need to learn any different
sort of magic?”

“The flame, your flame, Harry, is evidence that you are accessing parts of the Yggdrasil that a
lower magic user cannot. The color of your flame indicates what types of magic you are best suited
for which further shows what sorts of higher magic you can call upon from the Yggdrasil.” Loki
explained. “As you age your magical core is going to grow to take on more qualities from the parts
of the Yggdrasil you have access too. In time, if you don’t train yourself to use these new forms of
energy, your magic will grow out of your control.”

“Okay that makes sense. Sort of.” Harry said. “But I don’t really understand the color thing? I
mean my magic was like four different colors right? You said that they connected to different
branches of magic but just now you said they were planes of magic.”

“Human magic users access the middle pools of magic in the Yggdrasil.” Loki said.

Loki carefully waved a hand conjuring an illusion of the World Tree. It floated between glowing
gold and sparkling.

“We’ve talked about the World Tree before.” Loki said. “How each fruit of the tree is a planet or
realm and that the branches are streams of energy connecting each one.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, Midgard or earth is right here, in the middle of the tree.” Loki said pointing to the center
where there was a ball of light representing the earth. Harry leaned in to get a better look, squinting
his bright green eyes. “So humans who are born with the capability of using magic, tend to draw
power from the trunk of the tree, right close by. There are some who can reach the higher planes
just as there are Asgardian magic users who can only reach the middle, it’s not a hard rule. This
isn’t a lesser form of magic either, there’s quite a bit of power to be gained from using the trunk.
Humans have a wide breadth of abilities with magic. If there’s a form of magic out there in the
universe then it’s likely that humans have found a way to use it. Think of it like this, everything
passes through the trunk. Energy travels up from the roots through the trunk and then up to the
leaves and branches on the top, so that means that almost all forms of magic are possible for
humans.”

“So when Hermione talks about all the branches she means those?” Harry asked pointing to the
branches of the trees. His son looked like his mind was swimming through syrup. Loki knew it
would be difficult to cram centuries of magical theory into a few lessons but they had to make do.
“In essence yes. Each type of magical energy congregates in different parts of the world tree and
develops fully there.” Loki said, Harry looked a bit confused and so Loki sighed. “Okay let’s start
over. Let’s go down to the roots of the tree, well before any realms have formed. The roots of the
world tree hold magic in its purest most undiluted form. Gathering magic from here is dangerous,
there is no diversity it is just pure purposeless energy. You can’t cast complicated spells with this
stuff Harry. It’s incredibly powerful, so much so that it’s nearly impossible for any living being to
control. Magic from the lowest planes can be divided into six forms.”

“What are they?”

“Time. Soul. Space. Mind. Power. Reality.” Loki said making the roots of the Yggdrasil light up in
six different colors to represent these concepts. “This is magic in it’s purest form, all spells and
branches of magic can be placed into one of these six categories.”

“My flame was purple. That’s soul magic right?”

“Yes.” Loki said smiling a little. “But you are not taking your magic from the lower planes, if you
tried it you’d explode.”

“Then where am I getting it from?”

“Patience.” Loki said. “Let me finish explaining this. You know most Asgardian magic users have
to spend centuries learning this stuff. You ought to be grateful I’m giving you the simplified
summary.”

“Right.” He rolled his eyes at his son’s cheek and then had the six colors from the roots begin to
travel up into the trunk of the tree, passing by the realm of the fire giants and the dwarves. As the
magic traveled up it began to spread out into new hues, once where there was just red there was
suddenly pinks and blood oranges and scarlets.

“As the energy in the Yggdrasil travels upwards it diversifies into new types of magic. It can all be
traced back to the original six types but now there is the possibility for spells and unique types of
magic.” Loki explained. “For instance, transfiguration is part of Reality. When you transfigure
something, you change reality for a moment. Drawing magic from the trunk means you are still
taking magic that is truer to the source but still diluted enough to allow you to change a needle into
a matchstick.”

“So if you go higher into the world tree…then it gets even more colorful?”

“Exactly.” Loki said pleased, his wiggled his fingers causing the colors to travel up into the
branches and leaves. It pooled around in a rainbow of colors, every single one imaginable. There
were brilliant whites and silvers mixed in with bronzes and golds, every single color visible to the
human and not so human eye. “The higher the magic travels up the world tree the more it changes.
By the time it reaches the top it’s become the sort of divine magic that I and Thor use. This sort of
magic is very specific in what it can do. Its diversified to the point that Asgardian magic users can
really only access a few of the colors instead of the whole rainbow as it were. We can do great and
powerful things, things that humans could not ever dream of, but our skills are far less broad than a
human’s. We exchange a breadth of magical branches for an in-depth strength in one or two.”

“Okay, but I’m from both here and there.” Harry said pointing to the trunk and then to the upper
branches.

“Yes you are. That means you can draw magic from the trunk with ease as well as from the pools
of magic in the higher levels. I can do so as well but that’s because I’m the god of magic, that gives
me greater leeway in where I draw my power from.”

“So could you take magic from the roots?” Harry asked.

“I’ve never dared to.” Loki said. “Starlight taking magic from there is dangerous, anyone who’s
ever tried it has died. Taking magic directly from the source without allowing it to dilute and
diversify is just asking to make yourself explode.”

“Got it.” Harry said. “Roots are off limits.”

“Good.” Loki nodded. “Now. You are in a state of flux. Because of the spells I placed on you, your
magical core has only been able to access the trunk of the tree as you grew, now that those spells
are gone, your core is touching the branches for the first time. Now your magical core is evolving,
it’s going to take time before your magic stabilizes into something new.”

“Is this like magical puberty?” Harry asked.

“Essentially.” Loki said. “It’s not going to be easy Harry. Most people don’t go through this. There
are very few people who can draw their magic from more than one level of the tree.”

“Is anything in my life easy?”

“Don’t worry. I’m going to help. I went through this too you know. When I became the god of
magic my core went through significant changes, very similar to the ones you’re going through
now. I’ll help you learn to control it, I promise.”

“Okay. I trust you.” Harry said. “How do we start?”

“First you need to know which branches of the tree you can access. We know what colors your
flame is; purple, white, green, and gold.”

“Purple is soul magic, White is enchantment, Gold is charms, and Green is transfiguration. That’s
what you said.”

“See here. Look at the tree.” Loki said pointing to the left where the variations of white hues and
tones had congregated in a wonderful monochrome canvas. “This is where Alfheim lays. The light
elves are called such because they most frequently call upon the white magic of enchantment.
That’s not to say that all light elves do of course but we’re speaking in generalities now. The elves
are capable of rendering great magic with their enchantments. There are even some elves who can
just sing thing into existence, enchanting trees and weapons and anything else with great power by
their words alone.”

“So…Could I do that too?”

“Perhaps. You’d have to get an elf to teach you to sing. I’ve heard you in the shower, you need to
learn to carry a tune first.”

“Hey!”

“Harry you can draw from this portion of the Yggdrasil. I’m going to give you the tools to learn
how to draw upon that magic and how to control it but how you use it and what you wish to learn
further is up to you.”

“Okay. Where’s the gold?”

“That’s Asgard, the golden realm.” Loki said pointing to the top of the tree. “Gold is for charm
magic. I know it doesn’t make sense at first but charm magic is part of the Power portion of magic.
In the Asgardian sense, charm magic is a way of exerting your will upon an object without
changing the inherent nature of it. You can make a pineapple tap dance but once you stop it’s still
just a normal pineapple. In the same way you can cast hexes and jinxes upon people that can hurt
or harm them but once the magic is removed they are the same as they were before. It’s a powerful
type of magic and by far the one that has the most versatility. Asgard has used charm magic to
create a utopia free of disease and famine. Almost everything we eat, drink, wear, and live in has
magic on it to better the quality of life.”

“Is that why the air tastes like that?” Harry asked.

“Yes I’m afraid so.”

“Huh.”

“I suspect your connection to charms comes from your mother. Her magic was very gold, even if it
was only human. She was best at charms out of all the magic she did and I think she passed that
connection on to you. You got the green from me that’s for certain.”

“And green is over there? By the Vanir?” Harry had been paying attention in previous lessons!
Loki smiled at him, proud that he was remembering.

“Yes. Green is transfiguration. It’s change and shifting of shapes. There is also a lot of nature
magic that is green. Nature is all about change and growth. I called it entropy earlier and that’s
what I mean. This plane of magic is about truly changing the world around you. Enchanting
enhances qualities already there, charms paste on changes to something without changing the
object, and transfiguration changes the object into something else.”

“So enchanting is part of the Power category too?”

“No it’s part of the Soul category.” Loki corrected. “When you enchant the object you strengthen
or play down the inherent characteristics of the thing you’re working with, the soul of it.”

“So. My white and purple magic is the same?”

“It’s from the same source but it’s diversified into something new.”

“This is really complicated.”

“It takes centuries of study to understand and I’m quite sure no one has ever managed it
completely.”

“Okay. So I can take magic from the elves, the Vanir, the aesir, and…Where is the purple?”

“Down there.” Loki said pointing closer to the roots.

“I thought you said no roots!”

“I did! Just look, there’s the Realm Helheim. It’s not in the roots, but just right above them. This
sort of magic diversified early, and it remained closer to its truer form than most others. True soul
magic, the kind that you are capable of is exceedingly rare because no one lives down there.
Helheim is known as the realm of the dead and if anyone lives there I’ve never heard of them.
People who can draw from this plane of magic are powerful. It’s different from enchanting.”
“How is it different? What even is it?” Harry asked.

“It’s the ability to interact with souls Harry.” Loki said gently.

“I don’t understand what that means.”

“Everything in the universe, from the stars to the planets to the pebbles in the bottom of a stream
bed have a soul, a bit of something that defines what that are. How and when those souls form is
heavily debated. If a mountain has a soul and then is eroded down into a million stones, does it still
have only one soul or is that soul dead and now there are million stone souls instead? Magical
scholars have argued this topic for millennia and no one really knows for certain. What we do
know is that they exist and that they are, for the most part, immutable.”

“Immutable?”

“They remain the same.” Loki said. “The soul of a tree is going to always be just that, a tree. If I
transfigured that tree into a house, then it’ll act like a house but the soul of the thing will still be a
tree, and when the transfiguration fades, the tree’s soul will be relatively the same and the body of
the tree will revert to match that. If I charm a tree to be fire proof, then the soul is still just the
same as it was before, the tree itself isn’t even changed, it’s just coated with a magic protection,
like a shield.”

“But you said enchanting messes with the soul right?”

“It enhances the soul. If the soul of the tree in question says that this tree produces flowers, then
the tree can be enchanted to produce more or less flowers. An elf will sing to the tree and bring out
strengths or weaknesses in its soul to get the results they want. The soul of the tree is still just that,
a tree, but it has changed evolved into something different than it was before, but it is still
undeniably a tree.”

“That makes sense.” Harry said slowly. “So is soul magic just like super enchanting?”

“I suppose you could think of it that way.” Loki said with a small laugh. “What it is, is the ability
to command souls. You can command a soul to linger in a body for longer than it normally would
if someone is fatally wounded, you can command a soul to leave a body if you wished. Some soul
magic users have used this power to call forth the souls of the dead to speak with them, although
often that goes terribly wrong. A great example of soul magic is the golden apples of Asgard.”

“Those are the things that give you immortality right?”

“Yes. Indunn, a powerful healer and soul magic user like yourself, used soul magic to create the
golden apple trees. She took some normal apple trees and she commanded the souls of the trees to
change, to bear fruit that had the ability to seal souls to their vessels. When you eat one of those
apples you gain immortality because the apples change your soul, makes it stickier so that you
don’t die very easily. The changes in your very soul result in a stronger body, slower aging, and
more magical power. Your soul is forever changed, that’s what this sort of magic can do Harry.”

“Oh.”

“Yes oh.”

“But what am I supposed to do with it?”

“I don’t know.” Loki said shrugging. “There are so few true soul magic users that there aren’t any
common paths for you to take. I’m afraid we’re going to have to make it up as we go along.”
“Do you think I could…I mean this Indunn lady seems to know what she’s doing.” Harry said.
“Not to say I don’t want your help I do it’s just…”

“Indunn is a notorious shut-in.” Loki said, giving his son a smile to show he understood. “She lives
in the mountains of Asgard and tends to her garden. She’ll visit the city once every few centuries if
she’s forced to. The only time she communicates with anyone is when there’s a new child born and
an apple is needed. The parents will send a message to her using a raven, and she will go to them
with one apple for their new child. She leaves before the party starts.”

“So, talking to her is out?”

“I didn’t say that.” Loki said. “I’m just warning you that it could be difficult, perhaps even
impossible if she’s feeling particularly stubborn. I can teach you how to access that magic, and
how to control it. But the more advanced things, the stuff that women like Indunn are capable of is
going to take time to study and practice.”

“So my main form of magic you basically don’t know anything about but the other three you do?”

“We share two colors.” Loki confirmed with a smile. “And I’ve enchanted before, although it was
the more human way of doing it. With that we should be able to manage to ensure you don’t harm
anyone.”

“I really think I should try and talk to Indunn.” Harry said after a moment of thought. “It’s just…
the prophecy talks about a power that Tom knows not.”

“Soul magic could be it.” Loki agreed. He was careful then this was the first time Harry had
addressed the wording of the prophecy directly since telling it to him. Loki didn’t want to scare his
son off. “Tom knows the killing curse, but I highly doubt he’s done any sort of magic that
inherently changes the shape of a soul. There are human branches of soul magic but they’re mostly
lost arts, far too obscure for anyone in the last three centuries to have learnt with any degree of
success.”

“But the other types of magic.” Harry said. “Even if Tom can’t access the higher planes like I can
he can still do them. He’s enchanted and charmed and transfigured before. Way more than I have.
Tom knows that power, even if he doesn’t know the highest forms of it.”

“And you think Soul magic could be it? That’s not a bad idea Starlight.” Loki complimented.
“Speaking to Indunn could be helpful. I’ll send her a message explaining the issue. I can’t promise
anything, but she might agree to speak to you since you have magic like hers. There hasn’t been
another like you in millennia, she could be curious.”

“Thanks dad.” Harry said smiling. “Now. Is the lecture over? Can we actually get started now? I
promised I’d show Ron and Hermione something cool tomorrow before we went to Asgard.”

“You didn’t think to ask me if we were going to do anything interesting today? I could have had a
15-our lecture planned.”

“Dad. Come on I know you better than that.”

Loki smiled and waved his hand banishing the floating illusion of the World Tree, it had done its
job. He reached out and took his son’s hands in his own.

“You’re right.” Loki said. “I’ve always believed in learning by doing. I thought we could start with
the magic I’m most familiar with. Transfiguration. How would you like to learn how to shape shift
like me?”
“Really? I could learn how to do that too?” Harry asked. “Like an animagus thing or…like Tonks?”

“Those are the human forms of what I’m going to teach you. You can learn how to become an
animagus if you wanted, it’s quite a useful skill. Animagi can sneak through most warding systems
without getting caught. Although I’d better not see you doing that without some sort of
supervision.”

“You didn’t have supervision.” Harry teased.

“Yes, and I was very irresponsible.” Loki said. “What I’m teaching you is the Asgardian version. It
will result in what appears to be the same thing as the human version but we are drawing power
from a different portion of the Yggdrasil. That means it’ll feel different than the human method.”

“Okay. So, I can do this version but not the human shapeshifting?”

“That’s a gift one has to be born with I believe.” Loki said smiling. “But the Asgardian version is
something you can learn. I was born with a natural inclination for it, but I had to practice a lot to
turn into animals. I think we should start simply. Let’s see if we can get you to change your hair
color.”

“I’m ready.”

Loki took his son’s hands in his own and began to lead him in calling forth his magic. Once they’d
gotten through the lecture portion of the lesson things became much more enjoyable for the both of
them. It was exactly as Loki had dreamed it would have been all those years ago. He recalled
holding his infant son to his chest and telling Lily how brilliant their son was going to be. He’d
insisted to her then that he was going to teach their son everything there was to know about magic,
and that he’d be the best the realms had ever seen.

And as Loki coached his son in accessing the parts of his magic that had been hidden from him, he
felt pride bloom in his chest. This was what perfection was, Loki was certain. Sharing his hard
earned knowledge with his child, helping them grow and learn, and seeing the results of that right
before his eyes. It made him wonder about Odin for half a moment. Had Odin ever looked at either
him or Thor, sat down and shared what he knew?

Loki could recall praise being handed out. Odin had always been willing to tell Thor that he’d done
a good job, just as he’d always been willing to tell Loki to try harder not to get into too much
trouble. But had Odin ever sat down with either of them and gently corrected the way they held
their blade, or offered advice on their studies? For the first time in Loki’s life he wondered if he’d
not been the only one ignored by Odin. Had Thor been just as desperate for the attention of a father
that never truly came?

“You’re doing a good job.” Loki said as Harry’s face scrunched up as if he was in pain. The boy’s
midnight dark hair was now slightly lighter.

“My hair looks exactly the same!”

“It doesn’t. You’ve lightened it at least two shades. Very impressive for a first attempt.”

“Why is it so hard?”

“You’re exercising a part of your magical core that’s been dormant for a long time. It’ll take time.”
Loki said, not mentioning that most Asgardian magic users struggle for centuries to get their first
flame to even appear and Harry had done that with relative ease. Harry didn’t like to be pandered
too.
“I want to try again.” Harry said.

“Alright.” Loki said. “Dinner isn’t for another hour, do you want a snack now before you try
again? Having a full stomach can help.”

“Let’s just do this.” And Loki could respect the boy’s determination.

“Close your eyes.” Loki began again. “And focus on my words.”

He guided Harry in reaching into his core, pulling magic from his heart instead of his stomach.
Harry’s hands glowed bright purple and Loki smiled, he was a natural at this.

“Now you’ve pulled the energy to your hands. Perfect if we were going to be doing some spell
casting. But you need to redirect the flow to the area of your body you wish to change. So try and
see where the flow is in your body. It starts in your heart.”

“Yeah.” Harry said, his eyes still closed. “And then my shoulders? They’re tingling.”

“So from your shoulders it went down your arms and into your hands. That makes sense. That’s
where you normally push your magic. Through the hand you hold your wand with, but you need to
change that flow to your neck and then your head. Focus, this is your power, you can control where
it goes.”

Harry nodded and his face scrunched up again. Loki could feel the magic recede from his son’s
hands as it was pulled back, inch by inch, up his arms. He watched as minutes passed in silence.
He gave encouragement and advice every five minutes or so, whenever it seemed that Harry was
getting frustrated. After about thirty minutes, Loki saw a change. A brilliant smile bloomed on his
face as his son’s hair color lightened and filled with fire.

“Oh Harry.” Loki said.

“Did I do it?”

Loki let go of his son’s hands and conjured a mirror. Harry slowly opened his eyes and then his
mouth dropped open. He reached up and grabbed at the thick straight locks of hair that were now a
bright coppery red, the same color as his mother’s.

“Woah.”

“There. Excellent job.” Loki was proud to note that his voice only cracked a little at seeing his son
look so much like his mother. With his bright green eyes and eager grin it smacked him in the face
at how much he shared with her. Harry’s smile fell just a little and he reached out to place a hand
on Loki’s knee. Another amazing change, Harry reached out to touch now, freely and without
much hesitation.

“I miss her too.” Harry said, his voice soft.

“She would be so incredibly proud of you, Starlight. So proud. I know I am.”

“You think I can keep the hair? Just for the day?” Harry asked.

“It’s your body Starlight.” Loki said. “You can make it look however you’d like.”

“I don’t think I’d make a good ginger, but I’d like it for a little while.” Harry decided looking at
the mirror again. “Is that how shapeshifting works, like all of it?”
“The simplest things. You’re free to practice this as often as you want but more complicated things
like changing gender or species should wait until I can supervise.”

“Gender? Why would I want to do that?”

“It can be fun.” Loki said letting his body easily shift around just enough that it was clear that she’d
changed. “I did this quite often before becoming James Potter.”

“But…”

“Remember what I said Harry. No matter how you change the shape of your body you are still you.
And no matter how I appear I am always Loki. I just sometimes enjoy moving between different
physical identities. It’s not for everyone mind you, but it’s not bad.” It hadn’t occurred to Loki that
she’d have to explain this. She’d been playing around with gender for centuries, so long that it was
old news in Asgard, and Asgard never let go of gossip. It hadn’t occurred to her that her entire on
earth had been spent in mostly one form without much thought to change. There had been so many
other things on her mind than switching her body around to fit her mood.

“No. I get it.” Harry said quickly, hurrying to assure Loki that he didn’t mind. “And it’s cool. I just
didn’t know.”

“Good.” Loki said.

“Do I need to call you…anything different when you look different?”

“Harry.” Loki said lifting her now smaller hand with manicured nails to his face. “No matter what I
appear as, I will always be your dad.”

“Well that’s all that matters.” He said smiling back at her.

“Let’s go to dinner.” Loki said. “Let’s see how long it takes Stark to notice my new look.”
 A Meeting with Snape
Chapter Summary

Snape tries to start a fight with Loki during an Order meeting, Harry intervenes.

Chapter Notes

Hey everyone! Thanks for the brilliant comments last week and your patience as I
dumped all that lore on you. This chapter is way more character driven! I hope you
enjoy it!

There was something to be said for Grimmauld Place.

That something wasn’t very nice.

But still, it was something.

Harry scrunched his nose as he looked up at the decapitated house elf heads on the wall. Really he
couldn’t understand why anyone would find that attractive. It just made something in his gut
squirm uncomfortably. It was such a huge sign of barbaric cruelty, of being proud of it. With his
dad’s training he’d become all the more sensitive to magic, enhancing a skill he already had and
making it stronger.

He didn’t like how the Order Headquarters felt. Especially compared to the strength and warmth of
Asgard or the clean, almost sweet feeling of Avengers Tower. Thankfully he only came here once a
week for a meeting that normally didn’t last longer than an hour. This week’s meeting was going to
start soon; Sirius, Remus, and his dad were already in the meeting room, probably saving him a
seat.

Harry was on his way back from the room that he and Ron had spent the last summer in. He’d
forgotten a bag of sugar quills in one of the drawers and he’d wanted to see if they were still good.
He ignored the terrible feeling in the air and took the steps down two at a time.

“Oi! Potter.” Tonks said. “What are you doing over there? Meeting’s this way.”

“Hullo Tonks.” Harry said grinning at the woman. He held up the bag of sweets that was still
fresh. “I found my candy stash from last summer. It’s still good.”

“I see.” She said. “Congrats on that.”

“I’ve got some great news.” Harry said waking over to the woman whose hair that was currently a
bright purple. “My dad’s been teaching me Asgardian magic. Wanna see?”

“Sure.” She said. “Come on, show me what you’ve got!”

Harry grinned and then closed his eyes. He focused just as he’d been practicing and felt the tingle
in his scalp that let him know he’d succeeded. He opened his eyes to see Tonk’s mouth had
dropped open in shock.

“I know right? Asgardian shape shifting!” Harry reached up and grabbed at the now longer and
straighter red hair that had replaced his normal messy black. From experience he knew it was now
about shoulder length, and he’d given himself bangs that actually covered his forehead too. That
had been an important addition to have if he wanted to move around without being noticed. He
smiled at the bright red lock, knowing it was the same kind of hair his mum had had.

“That’s brilliant! I knew your dad was a shapeshifter we talked about it at your party but I had no
idea you were one too! Welcome to the club!” Tonks said slapping him on the back. “What else
can you do?”

“Not much yet. I made myself smaller today so I could fit in my old robes.” Harry said blushing
only a little. They were going to go robe shopping to get things that actually fit today, his dad had
promised. But for now, shrinking himself down was easier than wearing robes that only went to his
mid-calf. And magically enlarging his clothing just made them itch abomindably. “Dad says it
takes lot of practice since I wasn’t born doing it like you and him.”

“Makes sense. Still! It’s an awesome skill to have.” She said giving him a wink. “Any reason you
picked red hair? Trying to match Ron and the Twins, are you?”

“I…no it’s my mum.” Harry said. “She had hair just this same color.”

“Oh.” Tonks said, looking a bit awkward at the mention of Lily Potter. A woman she had never
known, who had died when she had been a child. “I had no idea. It’s a good look on you.”

“Thanks.” Harry told her. “Anyway, I’m going to put this candy with my bag. I’ll see you in the
meeting?”

“Don’t be late!”

Harry rolled his eyes and walked towards the exit of Grimmauld Place. The meeting was only
supposed to last an hour or more. They were having it early in the day, far before the time most
people had breakfast. The plan was to have the meeting, go out to eat some breakfast, then meet up
with Hermione and Ron to do school shopping. His dad had brought Hermione and her parents to
London with them and they stayed in one of Tony’s apartments he had in the city.

Harry didn’t ask why the billionaire had property in most major European cities.

It was setting up to be a good day, Harry thought. He got to the creepy coat rack and found his bag.
Rather it was one of Steve’s bags, a messenger bag he’d had stuffed away from a SHIELD mission
where he’d been undercover. Steve had been happy to let him borrow it to practice enchanting on.

That was going…sort of well. The bag didn’t try to bite anyone other than him who tried to open it
anymore at least!

Harry carefully opened the bag and put the smaller bag of candy inside. He’d share this with Ron
and Hermione once they all got to Diagon Alley. He stood up and readjusted his school robes. His
dad had helped him with the shrinking that morning when Harry had realized that none of his
school uniforms fit him anymore. He didn’t feel too terribly constricted but he’d gotten used to
having longer limbs by that point and having them be abruptly a bit shorter had made him act a bit
clumsy.

Behind him the door swung open, Harry turned around to see who it was and saw that Snape was
standing there. Snape was staring at him with wide eyes, frozen stock still.

“Hello Professor.” Harry said trying to be polite as he could. He and Snape hadn’t actually been
alone together since Harry had left Hogwarts at the beginning of the summer. His dad had ensured
that much.

“Potter.” The man’s voice was a bit strangled and Harry couldn’t understand why. Harry didn’t
know if it was appropriate to ask, or if he even cared.

Who was he kidding? Of course, he cared. He still couldn’t decide if getting revenge against
Dumbledore was the right thing to do. Figuring out how he felt about Snape of all people was
practically impossible.

“You alright?” Harry asked leaning forward a little. “I know you had that meeting with Tom last
night. If you need…”

Apparently even that much concern was too much. The man snarled and strode past him, robes
swirling around his legs as he practically ran down the hallway.

Huh. Weird.

Harry readjusted his robe again and then followed Snape towards the meeting room. He didn’t
even know what he’d done that time. Snape was already sitting on the far side of the large room,
glowering at Harry’s dad, which was normal. What wasn’t normal was the flinch when Harry sat
down next to his dad and gave his dad a smile.

“You changed your hair.” His dad noted.

“Wanted to show Tonks.”

“Ah. A noble cause. Did you find your candy?”

“Yeah.” Harry said. “Surprised it didn’t get cursed from staying in this place for so long.”

“I’ll teach you how to filter out the energy in this place so you can concentrate better soon
enough.” His dad promised, looking a little concerned. He reached out and ran a hand through
Harry’s hair as if to check for a headache that hadn’t yet appeared. Out of the corner of his eye he
saw Snape frown and look hard at the floor. What was up with him?

“Thanks.” Harry said. “It feels terrible here.”

“Let me know if you need a break, you can leave the meeting whenever you want. I’ll let you
know what you miss.”

“I’m fine. It’s only for an hour.”

“Just keep it in mind Starlight.”

Harry had mostly gotten used to his dad’s fussing. It was a huge change from how awkwardly
standoffish the man had been in the beginning, when neither of them really knew how to talk to the
other. More and more Order members were filtering into the room, taking seats around the long
oval table and greeting people. Harry waved brightly at Fred and George who complimented him
on his Weasley-ish good looks.

“Always knew you were our long lost brother.”

“It’s the eyes that gave it away. Every Weasley’s got emerald eyes!”

“Oh Harry.” Mrs. Weasley said, walking over to her two sons, ready to pull them into their seats
before trouble could start. Mrs. Weasley looked a bit teary as she looked at him which Harry
thought was a bit of a strange overreaction to a hair color change. “It looks lovely on you dear.”

“Thanks. Your hair looks nice too.”

Hermione and Ron didn’t come to these meetings. The Grangers didn’t want their daughter in the
war room and Mrs. Weasley had put her foot down on allowing Ron there as well. It didn’t matter
much since Harry told them everything anyway, but it made the adults feel a bit more comfortable.

“You’re so sweet.” She said sniffing. “I do hope your father is feeding you enough.”

“He is.”

“I am.” Loki said at the same time. “I promise you, he gets the five square meals a day a growing
demi-god needs.”

“Well that is good to hear.” She said. “But Harry you let me know if you get hungry okay? I’m
sure I can mix something up in the kitchen for you.”

“I will Mrs. Weasley.” Harry said with a smile.

“Molly.” Arthur said. “Come sit down, the meeting is starting. Oh Hello, Harry, you’re looking
quite sharp today.”

“Thanks?”

“The likeness is remarkable.” Arthur said. “I can’t hardly tell a difference now.”

“Likeness?” Harry asked. “I just changed my hair color…”

“Oh well. You see I remember Lily used to have that same hair style when she was your age.”
Arthur said. “I remember seeing her with that hair when I was a student and so was she. We were a
fair few years apart of course but…”

The man trailed off and Harry’s eyes flicked over to where Snape was sitting. The realization of
what Harry had inadvertently done settled in and he swallowed and looked away before Snape
could catch him staring.

“I’ve only seen pictures of my mum with really long hair.” Harry said, for lack of anything better to
say.

“She started growing it out when she turned 15.” His dad said. “But when she was younger she had
it quite short.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry.” His dad said. “Even if you started dressing exactly like her, I wouldn’t mind.
You’re allowed to do with your body what you want and seeing her in you doesn’t hurt me.”

His dad had gained the ability to somehow know exactly what to say to him over the summer.

“Thanks dad.”
The room quieted and Harry looked up to see that Dumbledore had entered. Arthur and Molly both
whispered their goodbyes and rushed to take their seats. Sirius and Remus stopped their game of
gobstones by hiding the board beneath the table and leaning back in their chairs to pretend that they
hadn’t been playing a children’s game. Harry snickered a little at Sirius’ innocent humming.

“Welcome.” Dumbledore said. “I see that we are all here so there’s no reason not to begin
immediately. Remus, how is your mission with the werewolves?”

Remus sat up completely and cleared his throat.

“I just got back from another visit with some of the outer packs. Most of them aren’t interested in
either side of the conflict which is honestly the best we could hope for. There’s only two packs that
I found that are siding with Greyback.” Remus said. “I’m working on some agreements with five
packs that would result in non-aggression for us, but it’s slow going. I honestly think the only way
we’re going to make any headway at all is if we offer them Wolfsbane.”

“Wolfsbane is incredibly complicated to brew. Brewing enough for an entire pack isn’t feasible.”

“I know that.” Remus said looking over at Snape. “And I’d never ask Severus to take on that
burden himself. But it’s the only thing that would interest the packs. It’s not like I can promise
them government help, not with the way the new Minister is going.”

“I understand.” Dumbledore said. “But we must still try to ensure that no more groups join Tom’s
army. Already a majority of European vampires have joined him. Not to mention the trolls he’s
captured and the giants he is courting. Hagrid is still attempting to work out some sort of deal with
the Giants and he has not yet returned from that mission.”

“I’ll keep working on it.” Remus promised. “But right now, no news is good news as far as I’m
concerned.”

“Very well. Let’s move on. Arthur?”

Harry listened as each Order member talked about what they had been attempting to do and what
they’d learnt. Mr. Weasley was trying to determine who in his part of the Ministry was a
Voldemort supporter, who was neutral, and who was on their side. It was difficult work but he was
making good progress. Tonks and Shaklebolt were trying to do the same within the auror corps
while also keeping an ear to the ground for potential Death Eater targets and raids.

Eventually they got to Snape, who had been strangely silent throughout the whole meeting. Harry
looked expectantly at the man who seemed incredibly discomfited by that fact.

“You-Know-Who is still unaware of Potter’s identity as well as Loki’s reasons for involvement.”
Snape said. “He is incredibly displeased by Loki’s current trajectory of interacting with Order
Members and the Hogwarts staff. I implied to him that the Headmaster was trying to woo the god
and his team of muggles to our side.”

“How did you explain away my fighting him in New York?”

“You are protecting New York with the muggles, any attack against that city would be one you
would respond to.” Snape said, looking at Loki with a glare in his eyes. “It was nothing personal.
Your working with the muggles is for your own benefit as well, you have no real vested interest in
being a hero, but it serves you to fake it to stay out of jail.”

“Hmm.” Loki said. “And have you mentioned my new appointment as the Defense Instructor?”
“I have.” Snape growled. “The Dark Lord has ordered me to sway you to his side of the conflict.
He is also sending out every child he can within Hogwarts to attempt to do the same.”

“As we expected then.” His dad said. “Albus, how goes the revamping of the wards around the
school? I trust the Asgardian warding systems aren’t being too troublesome?”

“We are almost complete with that as well. It should all be done two weeks before the students
arrive.”

“Good.” Loki said. “I don’t wish to prolong this conflict any longer than it already has been, if
something goes wrong then I want that school as protected against invasion as possible.”

“Of course.” Dumbledore agreed. “Now, James. How are preparations in the States?”

“I feel the Avengers are about as well trained to fight against Death Eaters as they can be at this
point. My brother is especially prepared.” Loki said. “I’ve finished charming the teleportation
devices that will allow them to travel to areas of concern in the event of an attack. We will now be
able to near instantly mobilize to 12 major cities in Europe, Hogwarts, a few choice magical
government buildings, as well as multiple places within the United States. If an attack is sounded,
we will be alerted, and able to move as needed.”

“I just don’t know how I feel about muggles fighting with us.” Moody grumbled.

“You haven’t seen them fight. I promise you, Mad-Eye, they can handle it.” Sirius said. “We’ve
put them through their paces.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

And probably not even then.

“And you Mr. Potter?” Dumbledore asked.

“The Americans are doing well.” Harry said. “I had another meeting with them two days ago.
They’re mobilizing defensive forces for all of their major magical centers across the continent.
They’ve been working with the Avengers on designing warning systems and that’s how we’re
going to be able to help them. They’re combining muggle surveillance with magical forms of it to
catch Death Eaters before they blow anything up.”

Harry shifted, feeling only slightly disconcerted with everyone staring at him. His dad’s hand, the
one hidden beneath the table, reached out and took Harry’s. Harry took comfort from the light
squeeze he was given and continued.

“They’re willing to offer us a few platoons, or well me a few platoons.” Harry continued. “In the
event of an attack that I’m fighting at in Europe, they’ll send up to 120 soldiers to help assist,
depending on the severity of the situation. Of course, I have to be the one to request it and there are
also concerns about how the IWC will feel about Americans just coming into a country uninvited
so it’s not totally worked out but it’s getting there.”

“Only 120?” Shaklebolt demanded. “That’s hardly anything.”

“A lot of their forces are focused on defending their people.” Harry explained. “And it’s kind of
hard to offer more when we don’t even have an actual battleground to go to. If there were front
lines I could point out to them, they’d be more willing to send an entire army at the problem.”

Shaklebolt and a few others didn’t look too pleased with that explanation but Harry wondered if
they could have done better than he had arguing with 50 presidents who seemed to like to listen to
their own voices more than anything else.

“One of the big initiatives right now is rooting out all Death Eaters in the country.” Harry
continued. “I don’t know how much of Tom’s forces over there have been taken down but they’ve
done four raids in the last week alone.”

“The Dark Lord is not pleased by the American’s actions.” Snape said. “I’m not given much
information on that portion of the war effort, but I believe the Dark Lord has plans on ordering
most of his American forces to go into hiding until a new invasion plan can be started.

“Well I think it’s going well over there.” Harry said.

“Is there not anyway you could convince the Americans to agree to help if you are not present?”

“No.” Harry told Dumbledore. “They don’t want to work with anyone but me. They don’t even like
talking to my dad much. I have to be involved or they won’t be.”

“That’s going to be difficult once you start attending school in a month’s time.”

“Hopefully Tom’ll focus back on me once I’m close by again.” Harry said. “If he’s focused on me
then he probably won’t attack anywhere else. If he does and we need their forces then…”

“That is a decision we’ll make when we come to it.” His dad interrupted. “I believe that due to the
prophecy Tom’s efforts will be focused on Hogwarts once the school year begins again. He can do
nothing else until that is fulfilled.”

“Which is why the wards around Hogwarts are so important.” Sirius said. “Seriously, I was able to
sneak past those, multiple times.”

“We’re aware.” Remus drawled.

“I’m interested in what other protections Asgard is willing to offer.” Dumbledore said ignoring
Sirius and Remus as they started to whisper to each other.

“Well. Last time I was there, I talked to my grandfather.” Harry said just a little awkwardly. “We
agreed that Asgard should help whenever they can. If anyone attacks Hogwarts then I have a way
to contact Asgard for help. The Bifrost’ll transport a whole army to wherever we need it.”

“Of course. Harry’s relation to Asgard needs to be hidden for as long as it can be. We’ve already
determined to portray a strained relationship to the public between us.” His dad said. “I’ll treat him
as any other student, although one I might find a bit annoying, and he’ll treat me with suspicion due
to my history. The longer we can go without revealing Harry as a demi-god to Tom Riddle the
better.”

It wasn’t going to be easy to pretend to not like his dad but Harry knew he had to do it. He’d agreed
with the idea when his dad had brought it up and he’d have Ron and Hermione’s help in pulling off
the ruse.

“Why the secrecy?” Arthur asked.

“Tom Riddle used my son’s blood for his resurrection ritual.” Loki said. “We have no idea how
much more strength he’s gained from that than he would have from using a truly mortal source. As
long as Tom doesn’t know the blood is half divine he can’t experiment with it to gain more power.
His ignorance protects us.”
“We’re not going to manage to keep it secret for long.” Snape said. “Potter’s mind is still quite
undefended from The Dark Lord’s influence.”

“Undefended?” His dad asked dangerously.

“The boy is a failure at Occulmency and…”

“Really? Because I found him to be an exemplary student.” His dad cut Snape off. “Perhaps instead
of focusing on his perceived failings you should look at your own.”

“My failings? The boy is disrespectful and arrogant.” Snape said. “He couldn’t learn a magic more
difficult than a levitation spell without having his father hold his hand through the process. The
boy is only as good as you claim because you spoil him, he’s got no clue how to truly-”

His dad slammed his hands onto the table and stood up, magic gathering around him in a fearsome
swell.

“Listen here Sni-”

“Dad.” Harry interrupted, placing a hand on his dad’s arm. He pulled on his dad and his dad
followed the suggestion, falling back into his seat. Good, now his dad wasn’t going to commit
murder. Grimmauld Place did not need any more negative energy to it.

“Of course.” Snape sneered. “Of course the great James Potter would back down from a fight so
easily. Isn’t that what you did when you ran back to Asgard, Potter?”

“That’s enough.” Harry said standing up then. He turned his full gaze onto Snape, his eyes full of
disgust and frustration. “He is backing down because this is a stupid, pointless argument and we
have better things to be doing than playing around with your ego.”

Snape was frozen again, like a deer standing in front of a speeding car’s headlights. Harry
continued his tirade.

“Look me in the eye and tell me you taught me Occulmency. Tell me that you actually taught it to
me correctly.” Harry said. “Look at me.”

Snape looked away. Harry narrowed his eyes and then sighed.

“That’s what I thought.”

The meeting continued on without much interruption after that.

When thing finally came to a close and everyone had been updated, his dad got up ready to leave
this place with Sirius and Remus and start their day properly. Harry only had eyes for Snape
though. The man was sitting quietly, silently glaring at the floor and ignoring everyone else who
tried to speak with him.

“Go ahead and catch up with the others.” Harry said softly. “I’ll meet up with you by the front door
in a few minutes.”

“Harry?”

“Dad.”

“If he tries anything I’ll be here in an instant.”

“It’s going to be okay.” Harry said seriously. “I’m just gonna talk to him.”

His dad didn’t look pleased by that but nodded anyway. Harry appreciated the sign of trust. He was
surprised when Snape didn’t try to leave, the man looked like he’d rather stab himself than talk to
Harry, especially when Harry was looking like that. Harry got up from his chair and made his way
slowly over to the Potions Master.

“What do you want Potter.”

“You know.” Harry said, using the same tone that someone would use to remark on the weather. “I
think I might hate you.”

Snape looked up and glared at him. He opened his mouth probably to say that he didn’t much care
what an arrogant boy like him thought, Harry didn’t let him.

“You had all that time with my mum, you had years of being her friend. Years that I’m never going
to have.” Harry said, his voice tinged with something that could have been called kindness or
cruelty. “And I think I hate you a little for that. You got so long with her, you were gifted with
knowing her and this is what you did with that.”

“Do not speak of her.” Snape warned.

“What? You’re telling me I can’t talk about my own mother?” Harry demanded, his voice
incredulous. “You’re the one who bullies children. We both know how mum felt about bullies.”

And that shut Snape up too.

“I mean really.” Harry continued. “The first time we ever met, I was taking notes! Writing down
what you were saying in potions because I was so excited to learn from you. And you attacked me
for it, for having the same interests as my mum.”

And suddenly, with Snape’s tiny flinch, it all clicked into place.

“All this time. All this time, you’ve been punishing me for being like her, haven’t you? I reminded
you of her and you couldn’t handle it.” Harry said. “Every time you told me I was just like my dad
you were trying to forget how much like her I was.”

“Potter…”

“And you wanted me to hate you, didn’t you? You wanted me to act just like my dad so you
wouldn’t have to think about what you did and who you lost.” Harry continued. “And if I hated
you, if I acted out then it was okay, you could take things out on me because I’m just like my dad.”

Harry couldn’t believe it. All this time and it was that simple? The hours of painful occulmency
lessons, the humiliation in potions class, the unnecessary detentions, the cruel words. All of it was
because of that? Years of suffering and it boiled down to Snape not wanting to face that he’d
messed up? That he’d betrayed his mother, become a Death Eater, and lost her friendship forever?
Snape had spent the last five years making Harry’s life miserable at every turn just because he
couldn’t deal with his own shit?

Snape should have known better his heart screamed. Snape had known Aunt Petunia. He’d known
probably better than anyone what kind of woman she was, and how she saw magic users. And yet
in his own cowardice he’d ignored all evidence to the contrary to protect himself. Harry had come
to him half starved and eager to learn and Snape had slapped him down telling himself lie after lie
to justify his cruelty.
Harry suddenly felt very tired. A bone deep weariness invaded his soul as he considered the man in
front of him. He’d spent weeks agonizing about how he was meant to deal with Snape. The man
had tortured him, invaded his mind over and over again, and then blamed him when he couldn’t
defend himself. He had driven Harry to believing he couldn’t trust any adult in his life. He had
pushed Harry to the Ministry that night, almost killing Sirius and his friends in the process.

He had felt so incredibly angry and conflicted about Snape ever since his dad had told him how he
hadn’t failed at learning Occulmency, how it had been Snape who should have been better. The
relief mingled with disbelief those words had given him still popped up when he saw Sirius
sometimes. He’d wondered what he should say to Snape, this monstrous man who’d made his time
at Hogwarts more difficult, more painful than it had to be. Who took out his hurts and regrets on
children who had nothing to do with them.

How many indulgent fantasies had he had over the past month alone about yelling at Snape, about
taking the jerk down a notch or two before letting his dad have whatever was left? And now Harry
was standing here, able to lay down a sentence, totally justified in doing so and he just felt…tired.
This wasn’t like Dumbledore who could and would harm others. This was just a bully who never
learnt to grow up and face his mistakes.

He pitied Snape.

Yes, that’s what he felt. Pity. Harry didn’t think he’d ever felt pity for someone before. Sympathy?
Yes. Empathy? Hermione would argue a bit too much. Compassion? His dad said it was something
he and his mum had had in common.

But pity?

That was new.

Where was the satisfaction at yelling and ranting at someone who was so pitiful? Who was a
coward and a bully and was only that way because he didn’t know any other way to be? Snape was
glaring at him, his eyes filled with hurt and malice in equal measure and Harry just felt tired. What
was the point of all of this? Of letting Snape take up so much space in his heart and mind when this
is what the man truly was?

“You don’t want me to act like my mum?” Harry asked. “Fine. I won’t. I’ll do something she never
did.”

Snape straightened up, Harry saw him tense ready to draw his wand. The man expected an attack,
proof that Harry was always what Snape had wanted him to be. Harry drew himself up,
straightened his shoulders and looked the man directly in his dark eyes.

“I forgive you.”

“Wha-”

“You heard me.” Harry said. “I forgive you. For everything you’ve done to me. Even the stuff I
don’t know about. And if you do something to me in the future, then I’ll forgive you for that too.”

And there was true horror in Snape’s eyes. It wasn’t the startled relief Harry had seen in Odin’s, or
the affection he’d gotten from Mrs. Weasley. No Snape was looking at him like a man who knew
he didn’t deserve it, who didn’t even want it, and was being given it anyway. There was pain there
too, new laid on top of old. Harry nodded to himself, he felt better having let go of all that
frustration. All that was left was the pity he felt for the man.
He didn’t love Snape. He didn’t like him. A part of him would always hate him just a little for
being the kind of man he was. It wasn’t like with Odin where Harry saw something in him that he
wanted to nurture. No. This was Harry cutting ties, this was Harry setting himself free of the awful
chains Snape had put on him from the moment he’d had his first potions class.

“I forgive you Professor Snape.” He repeated again seeing more pain and more horror form in the
man’s face. This was something Snape had never known. Forgiveness, freely given. Not even his
mother had ever had the courage to do it.

“If you think this means I’ll-”

“I don’t want anything from you Professor.” Harry said seriously. “I’m just giving you my
forgiveness, that’s it. You’ll always have it no matter what. So. There.”

Harry turned and left the man where he was sitting, now emotionally gutted. Snape would probably
hate Harry for this, for giving him something like that. Snape certainly didn’t deserve it, probably
never would knowing the man. But Harry didn’t care. There was so much power in what he’d just
done. Harry had decided to end the fighting with Snape, end the pain on his terms and no one
else’s. Not even Snape had a say in how Harry ended it. If Snape had had his way, then Harry
would’ve been dragged down to his level of cruelty and petty insults.

What did it matter what a man like that thought of Harry? It didn’t! What mattered was how Harry
felt in that moment.

And Harry found that even the dark oppressive atmosphere of Grimmauld Place that he felt free.

“Hey dad.” Harry said walking up to the group of Marauders. “What do you say we get waffles for
breakfast?”
 Training with Tyr
Chapter Summary

The Golden Trio is in Asgard for a day of training and Harry tries to learn asgardian
offense.

Chapter Notes

Hey!! Thank you so much for the brilliant comments last week! I loved each and
everyone I'm glad you all enjoyed it!!

“Excellent form Haraldr. For the defense.” Tyr said as he walked up to where Harry was dueling
against Hemrod. “What have I told you about that?”

“Uhm…The best defense is a great offense?” He hazarded, Tyr paused as he always did whenever
Harry used a common human phrase. The man’s face took on a stupefied and delighted look.

“The best defense…Ha! Brilliant Lokison! Now why don’t you take your own advice and get a bit
more aggressive! I’ll make you duel against me for the next hour if you don’t!”

Harry grimaced at the implied threat and he saw a sympathetic smile from his dueling partner.

“Of course, Master Tyr.” Harry said. “I’ll do my best.”

Harry still didn’t enjoy using his sword offensively. He preferred blocking and disarming over
slashing/stabbing motions. Still did even after weeks of being trained. It was the thing that annoyed
Tyr the most about him. He was used to having to beat in the importance of defense into young
aesir skulls and Harry was the exact opposite. Harry wondered if the man, in all his millennia of
teaching, had ever had a student like him before. Tyr nodded and continued on his journey between
the dueling students.

“Alright Haraldr.” Hemrod said. “Let’s try again?”

“Yeah.” Harry said hefting up the sword his dad had given him. “On three?”

“You’re actually going to swing at me this time?”

“Yes.”

“On three then.”

They counted down to three and then they began. Hemrod stared at Harry when the two of them
began to circle each other and Harry didn’t immediately move to attack.

“I’m getting to it!”

“It’s not like you’re asking for my hand. You’re just trying to cut me in half.”

“How is that better?”

“Just do it unless you want Tyr to beat you into the dirt.”

Harry sighed and then lunged forward with a swing. Hemrod immediately parried and the fight
began in earnest. He tried throughout the rest of the duel to be more offensive but the longer the
fight went on the more Harry slid into what he was more comfortable with. And his failed attempts
garnered Tyr’s attention. When the training session ended, most of the trainees were allowed to sit
down, drink copious amounts of water, and rest. Harry, however, had a large hand placed on his
shoulder.

“I don’t believe you’re done yet, Lokison.”

“Figured.”

“Let’s do a demonstration for your peers.”

“Whatever you think is best.”

“So now you’re interested in what I think is best? Fascinating.”

Ten minutes later Harry found himself leaning against Ron with six new bruises on his body and a
head that was only slightly dizzy. All of the rest of the trainees were also lounging around, having
watched Harry’s rousing defeat by Tyr with various levels of sympathy and amusement, Baldur
being the one who’d enjoyed it the most. Harry really didn’t like that guy. He was essentially the
buff version of Malfoy and Harry liked him less than he did Malfoy. It was at least slightly
entertaining being Malfoy’s rival. Baldur was just boring.

Ron lifted up his jug to Harry’s lips and let Harry take a long sip. Hermione had her wand out and
was carefully practicing her healing spells on his arm. After Harry’s injuries during the attack on
New York by Voldemort, Hermione had committed to learning basic magical first aid and Harry
had volunteered to be her test subject. She was already much better than Lockhart ever was.

“Haraldr.” Herdic said from his position of leaning against his twin brother Heimir. “Tyr’s
punished you like that every week for the past month.”

“Yes. Yes he has.”

“Well why?” The Aesir pushed. “All you have to do is fight offensively, it’s not hard, that’s the
easiest part!”

“Harry’s always been like that, defensive.” Ron said before Harry could spout off something
snarky. “Long as I’ve known him he’s done that. Every time we played chess since we were little,
his strategies always been more defense.”

Harry hadn’t even known that but Hermione nodded along like it was common knowledge.

“It’s true.” She said. “Even when Harry plays quidditch he prefers to fly away from conflict.”

“I’m the seeker! I’m supposed to be getting the snitch, not fighting bludgers.”

“Still.” She said shrugging. “Your favorite spell in the entire world is the disarming spell, everyone
knows that.”
“It’s a good spell!” Harry argued.

“I’m not saying it isn’t. But you could do to be a bit more…aggressive.”

“Why aren’t you?” Hemrod asked. “Every time we duel, you always slide back into defense unless
I remind you. Why?”

“I just like it okay! Why are all of you so focused on offense anyway?”

“Because that’s what a fight is.” Baldur cut in, snooty and superior. “If you’re not going to actually
fight you might as well just stay home with the women.”

“What did you say about women?” Hermione asked turning to give her evil eye to the swordsman.
Baldur hid his fear well.

“Strange mortal exceptions aside women don’t fight and neither does this illustrious prince.”
Baldur scoffed. “It’s cowardice, that’s all it is.”

“I’m not a coward.” Harry said sitting up to glare at the blonde.

“Oh really? Said the tiny little prince who still can’t swing his sword. The All-Father is ashamed of
you, certainly, for your cowardice. What sort of warrior has he allowed into our realm? A pitiful
kind that’s for sure.”

“Not wanting to hurt people isn’t cowardice!” Harry shouted, finally standing up to glare down at
the blonde. “I understand that this whole thing is a game to you, because you’ve never been in a
fight and every time you’ve lifted your sword it’s only been for practice but I’m learning how to
kill people! Every time I go back to earth, I go knowing that I might have to take someone’s life,
that is something you’ve never had to do Baldur so just shut up!”

“It’s not a game! I’m training to be a warrior, to fight for Asgard!” Baldur said jumping up to meet
him head to head.

“In what war?” Harry demanded. “You have this idea in your head that once you grow up Odin’s
gonna declare war on someplace so you can go off and prove how great you are! That’s not going
to happen. You live in peace, all you know is peace. That’s all you’re ever going to know you
arrogant idiot!”

“Idiot? At least I’m not the one too cowardly to swing a sword.”

“So you’re not going to argue the arrogant part? At least you’re not a total moron.”

Baldur growled and wrenched around to punch Harry in the gut. Harry reacted immediately by
letting his magic burst out of him and send Baldur sprawling to the ground. The warriors all rushed
away as Baldur groaned and pushed himself up. Harry felt so suddenly frustrated with the warrior
in front of him.

“I have spent my entire life being pushed around by people like you.” Harry said. “I have felt small
and weak and useless because people more powerful than me decided that being kind was the
same thing as being a coward. I’m not ever going to be like you, even if I never learn to sword fight
right, I refuse to use my power and strength to hurt someone else, not when I can just stop them
instead.”

Baldur looked ready to try and clock Harry again.

“Haraldr.” Harry winced and turned to see that Tyr had returned. “Baldur.”

Baldur stepped back from Harry.

“Baldur. You attempted to attack a fellow trainee outside of a duel. That is against the rules.” Tyr
said. “You are aware that any attacks like this are grounds for expulsion yes?”

“Yes, Master Tyr.”

“Then I suggest you go home and consider whether you wish to remain here or not.” He said. “And
what you will do to prove to me that you deserve to stay.”

Baldur nodded and bowed, very stiffly, before rushing away. Harry didn’t watch him go, instead he
kept looking at Tyr. Tyr stared at him for a moment before nodding to himself.

“Hemrod. Take the rest of the trainees to the arena. Prince Loki has prepared a surprise for all of
you this afternoon and I was to lead you there. Haraldr and I will be along soon.”

“Yes, Master Tyr.” Hemrod said. Harry looked over at his friends who seemed still unsure. Harry
gave them a nod and they left him alone with Tyr. Soon the trainees had all left and Harry found
himself alone with Tyr.

“Sit with me Haraldr.” The man motioned to the ground right close to where Harry had left his
sword. Harry settled down a little awkwardly, well aware of the bruises his friend had not been
able to heal. Tyr looked at him for a while, letting the tension build around them.

“I’m not sorry for defending myself.”

“I didn’t expect you to be. Baldur has been…argumentative with you since you arrived.” Tyr said.
“I suspected you two would fight eventually.”

“Oh.”

“Do you know how I lost my hand?”

“Uhm…” Harry had no idea why that was relevant at all. “No?”

“It was bitten off.” Tyr said. “By a giant wolf.”

“I’m…sorry.” Harry said.

“Ah. Was my fault at the end of the day.” Tyr said. “I was young then, terribly young. Still just a
warrior, no better than anyone else. Odin had been about to…banish someone, I can’t say who you
understand, their name is illegal to even speak.”

“That’s fine.” Harry said.

“The person banished was second in command in Odin’s army. A greater warrior you’ll never find.
They went rogue after a while, I have my suspicions as to why but only Odin knows for sure. Odin
sent out the Valkyrie, his greatest force of warriors and they slaughtered them all.” Tyr said. “Odin
went himself next and he took me and a few others with him. I don’t believe he wanted many
witnesses for what was going to happen.”

Harry shifted a little awkwardly. Thor had mentioned the Valkyrie to him, as had Sif, both of them
had been very impressed with the long-fabled group of women warriors. According to them, the
warriors had died in a terrible battle and their practices has died with them. It had made him a bit
sad to hear about it, but Tyr’s voice held true grief and pain.

“I’d volunteered to go.” Tyr said. “My wife was a Valkyrie. Lucky man that I was. Most Valkyrie
preferred the company of each other but I managed to gain the heart of my beloved Brenna. I
wanted to gain revenge, to help stop this monster before they destroyed any more of what I loved.”

“I’m sorry.” Harry said. “That you lost her.”

“It’s an old wound.” Tyr said. “Much of the grief has passed from me.”

“Still.” Harry said. “It’s not very fair is it?”

“Death rarely is.”

Harry found he couldn’t argue with that. Tyr took a moment to put aside the memory of his wife
and continued.

“It was our job to capture their steed and lock it away. They rode on a giant wolf, terribly
intelligent it was. While Odin talked with his second in command, trying to get them to surrender,
we tricked the wolf into it’s chains. But I was arrogant, I was angry. I wanted to cause harm to the
things that had taken so much from me. In my rage I didn’t notice the wolf gaining freedom and it
got my hand in its jaws. From there things descended into madness and Odin ended up having to
banish his second in command.”

“Why are you telling me about this?”

“All of Asgard has one fatal flaw.” Tyr said. “We had it then, when we were conquerors freshly
betrayed by our greatest leaders, and we have it now in times of peace. It is our aggression.”

“That’s not…surprising?” Harry hazarded. “I’m sorry I’m not better at that I just…”

“No. No. Don’t apologize.” Tyr said. “Just listen to me.”

“Sorry.” Harry said if only to get the man to glare at him a little.

“Asgardians are reckless, we go into a fight uncaring of what damage our battles will cause, to
ourselves and to others. We love to be aggressive, offensive, to fight. What happens after is
someone else’s concern.” Tyr said. “After I lost my hand I had to relearn how to fight. I had to
recover from my grief from Brenna’s death without being able to hold a blade like I used to. I
could not even dress myself for her funeral.”

Harry didn’t dare to interrupt the man. Not now. He was beginning to suspect what was going on
here. Or at least he had an inkling of an idea.

“It was incredibly humbling. I had to live with the consequences of my aggression, of my blood
lust, every single day. Not to say that there were not others who lost things but I…I lost my
dominate limb. There was not a moment during that time where I wasn’t reminded of my own
losses, my failures. I eventually learned to be cautious, to be aware of what my actions would bring.
It was that caution that gave me the edge to become one of the greatest warriors Asgard has.” Tyr
said. “I saw that same caution in you that first day, you were careful not because you feared being
hurt but because you didn’t wish to fail and you didn’t want to harm me.”

“I…well I knew you could defend yourself.”

“And yet when I gave you openings to attack me you never took them. You could have injured me,
but you only disarmed me. And then immediately told me you’d done it wrong.”

“Well I did.”

“You disarmed me on your first attempt, something no student of mine has ever accomplished
while using a sword too large for you, and you’re still insisting that you did it wrong?” Tyr
demanded. “You and I both know that in a real fight your form doesn’t matter as much as your
results. That doesn’t mean you skip your practices.”

“I know.” Harry said smiling a little. “I promise I practice every day with my dad and uncle. Three
hours at least.”

“So your father’s told me.” Tyr said. “I’ve never had Loki this interested in swordsmanship you
know? When he was my student, he couldn’t be bothered to put his magic texts down but now that
you’re learning he’s suddenly more obsessed with it than anyone I know.”

“He can be a bit much.”

“I’m aware.” Tyr said. “I’ve known that boy since he was a tiny little thing. I was there when Odin
took the boy in, helped clean him and feed him his first warm meal in norns knew how long.”

“Really?”

“Oh aye. Odin likes to pretend that he kept that secret so well but there were a few of us who
knew.” Tyr said. “Never bothered me much, but I didn’t care for Loki’s less than stellar dedication
to my classes.”

“Weren’t we talking about me?”

“Right.” Tyr said giving Harry a look. “Your caution is commendable. You’re careful Haraldr and
you are kind. I understand the fear you have. You fear swinging too hard or too fast and doing
harm that can’t be undone. You seek for nonviolent options because you fear what you would do if
you chose violence. That sort of caution normally takes centuries for an aesir to learn, if they ever
do.”

“If you understand then why are you being so hard on me?”

“Because there will come a time when you will have to choose violence. I don’t know the
prophecy but your uncle has told me enough. This Tom Riddle is not going to let you disarm him
and put him in jail, he won’t allowed himself to be put to sleep. No. He won’t stop until he is dead,
that is how evil works.”

“I know that.” Harry said before suddenly feeling quite desperate. “I just…I don’t want to okay? I
don’t want to kill him!”

“Why?” Tyr asked. “Did he not kill your mother? Has he not killed thousands? Perhaps even
millions? Does he not deserve death?”

“I have no idea!” Harry said slamming his fist onto his knee. “I know he won’t stop killing people
until he’s dead. I know that. I know I have to be the one to do. I know that he deserves this, that
everyone deserves to live in a world that he’s not in, but it still feels…wrong.”

“Taking a life should never feel right.” Tyr told him making Harry look up and into his eyes. “I
know, that’s rich coming from a man with a kill count higher than his age, but I mean it. It
shouldn’t feel right, Haraldr Lokison.”
“Then how can I possibly do it?”

“Because not doing it would feel so impossibly worse.”

Tears stung his eyes and he looked back down at the ground. None of this was fair. Why couldn’t it
be fair?

“You are incredibly wise for your age, but you are still young.” Tyr continued. “When you lift your
blade, I know it will be in defense of those you love. Not for power, not for money, not for
revenge. But because if you don’t use your strength then those weaker than you will suffer.”

“I don’t know if I can do it.” Harry said. “I wish it was easy, that I didn’t feel so bad about this,
about my fate. I shouldn’t feel so conflicted, my dad isn’t. Neither are my friends or the Avengers.
You’re not either. No one but me is.”

“And yet the norns chose you to do it.”

“What?”

“Has it not occurred to you that the reason the prophecy is about you, is because of who you are?”

“Well I am a demi-god.” Harry began.

“Not that. Plenty of beings have power. Why did the norns not send a prophecy for Frigga to
weave, telling her that Odin was to destroy Riddle? Why did they not have your father, the god of
magic, intervene in when the realm of magic was in danger? Why did they require it of you? A
child?”

“I have power. Something Tom doesn’t have.” Harry said. “They said that in the prophecy. My dad
and I think it might be soul magic. We’re trying to get a meeting with Eir to learn more about it.”

“A powerful force indeed and if anyone could teach you it would be her.” Tyr agreed. “But why
not have Eir destroy Voldemort then? Eir is far more powerful than you, grown as she is, and she
has been trained in many magics and martial arts. Why not call on the goddess of life to end the
scourge of it? Why you?”

“I…I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. You just said it stupid boy. The fact is, you are the only person who is struggling
with killing him.” Tyr said. “You have such a strong heart, I’ve never seen the like in all my
millennia.”

“How is my heart supposed to save the universe?”

“I don’t know.” Tyr said shrugging, almost as if he didn’t care not knowing. “But you will figure it
out. And in the meantime, I’m going to teach you how to defend yourself and others. I believe
however, that we are going to have to change some things.”

“What?”

“You need to learn how to fight back, how to be proactive.” Tyr said. “That is non-negotiable.
Defense isn’t enough, not for a war. But it’s clear that you aren’t going to take to normal techniques
either. It feels wrong to you, to your heart, and I’d be far stupider than I am to ignore that.”

“What are you saying?”

“It’s been a long time since this sort of thing has been practiced in Asgard. Thousands of years in
fact.” Tyr said. “There were some Valkyrie who specialized in non-fatal forms of combat. They
fought with the intent to down an opponent and keep them down without doing permanent damage.
It was taught only by the Valkyrie, something only a select few in their number knew. A method to
capture enemies and those who would do harm to themselves without killing them.”

“If only the Valkyrie knew it, then how can I learn it?”

“Because it was a secret my beloved Brenna shared with me.” Tyr said, a bittersweet smile on his
face. “I never forgot her lessons, the things she shared with me because she loved them and me,
and now I’ll share them with you.”

“Thank you.” Harry said, his voice soft and awed. “Thank you, Master Tyr.”

“It is my honor.” Tyr said. “But you must promise me that you’ll put everything into these lessons.
You mustn’t hold back.”

“I won’t. I swear.”

“Good boy.” He said. “Now, I believe your father is going to have a nervous breakdown if I don’t
take you to the arena.”

“What surprise were you even talking about?”

“Your father mentioned to me how much you love that game of yours, quidditch was it?”

“Yeah?”

“I thought the recruits could learn something from a game that has balls that intentionally try to
injure them. He brought a set of brooms for a game, to teach them situational awareness.”

“Really?” Harry said jumping up from the ground. “We’re going to play quidditch!?”

“That was the plan. Hopefully the recruits have figured out the brooms by now. Come on, we best
get over there before they start without you.”

Harry gave Tyr a huge grin and held out his hand for the man to take. He pulled Tyr up and
thanked him once more, both for the quidditch and for the promise of a new way to fight. Tyr
slapped him on the back and told him not to worry his head about it. He was just doing his job.

Is this what teachers were supposed to be like?

Harry shook his head. Better not think about that too hard. There was quidditch to play after all.
 It's Quidditch!!!
Chapter Summary

Loki has plans. He's got so many plans his plans have plans of their own. And all of
them are for his son.

Chapter Notes

Once again, I cannot say it enough, thank you for the brilliant comments! I'm glad you
all liked my version of Tyr. It was fun bringing him into the MCU while still trying to
bring in stuff from the myths! <3 Enjoy this new chapter!

Harry had requested that they not throw him a birthday party.

Loki had brought it up only two weeks before, wondering if his son had any traditions he wanted to
share with him. Harry had gotten a slightly shifty look on his face before shaking his head.

“Can we not have a party? We just had the First Flame one and I don’t really want that many
people around all focused on me. It’d be nice if I could spend part of the day with Ron and
Hermione, but I don’t want a party.”

In truth Loki hadn’t liked the request. He’d missed out on 14 other birthdays after all. From 2- 15
Loki had been off galivanting elsewhere. He wanted to try and cram as many birthday gits and
celebrations into this July 31st to make up for it. Maybe it was the Asgardian in him, this desire to
throw a huge party to celebrate his son’s 16th birthday. The Aesir after all searched for every
opportunity to have a giant feast, any reason was a good enough reason if there was going to be
mead involved.

But he knew his son would be extremely uncomfortable with a birthday party of that caliber and
Loki wanted to respect that while also giving his son the party he deserved. So, he’d gone to the
one person he trusted most to help.

“I was wondering when you’d come.”

“You understand of course, that this must remain between us.”

“I’m not gonna say a word. Might want to make sure the twins aren’t listening in though.”

Loki lifted up an eyebrow and turned to the doorway of Ron’s bedroom. To his surprise he saw
oddly realistic ears sticking out from beneath the door.

“Fred. George. Actual privacy please.”

“Oh come on!” Fred whined.

“We can help! We’re great at mischievous plans!”

“And if this plan requires mischief you two will be the first I call.” Loki promised. “But for now,
we need privacy.”

He snapped his fingers transporting the twins, and their spy equipment back to their shop. As an
added bonus he also sent along a pranking spell he’d invented four centuries ago that they were
sure to enjoy decoding. That should give them at least an hour.

“There.” He said. “Thank you for making time for me Ron.”

“Course Mr. Potter. You are here about Harry’s birthday, right?”

“He doesn’t want a party.”

“Sounds like him. I don’t think he’s ever had a good birthday party.” Ron said. “When he turned
14 his birthday got ruined by a Death Eater attack at the World Cup. Then when he was 15, he
almost got killed by dementors and had to go on trial for under age magic.”

“Seriously?” Ron nodded gravely and Loki sighed. “Well that makes sense then. He asked that I
don’t throw him a party.”

“But you want to.”

“Well, it’s his birthday. The second one I’ve gotten to spend with him.” Loki said. “Besides, Frigga
and Odin are not pleased that they weren’t invited to his First Flame party, if I don’t do something
for his birthday they’ll think I’m being petty.”

“You’re not?”

“Hush up.”

“A big party wouldn’t make him happy.” Ron said. “He doesn’t like being the center of attention
either. It makes him paranoid.”

“So what? I just give him a gift and pretend it’s any other day?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say. I’ve only ever seen Harry comfortable at a party a few
times in my life and all of them have been about Quidditch.”

“Quidditch?”

“Yeah, he was on the team 1 st through 3rd year. 4 th year we didn’t have Quidditch because we had
the Triwizard tournament and last year was a mess.” Ron scowled. “But for the first three years he
was Gryffindor’s seeker. Whenever we won a game we’d have huge parties and Harry would be
right in the thick of it.”

Loki could well remember how crazy those parties had gotten when he’d been a student there. And
with Fred and George also on the team…well he knew they’d likely gotten more intense. They
were probably on par with an Asgardian Feast, at least energy wise. Feasts could last for weeks if
Odin allowed and humans just didn’t have that sort of stamina.

“So we could play quidditch?”

“With who? Hermione doesn’t like brooms. So that just leaves me, you, Professor Lupin, and
Sirius. That’s not enough to make one full team. Even if we brought on Ginny and the twins.” Ron
said. “Besides, Harry’d see what we were doing a mile away.”

“So we just don’t tell him.” Loki decided. “We just need to find 12 willing players, as we have you
and Harry already, and get a game together for his birthday. Then we can have a party after to
celebrate whichever team wins. And if I also so happen to have a few gifts for Harry then that’s
merely a coincidence.”

“It’d have to be natural.” Ron decided. “The party has to seem spontaneous. And if we invite
anyone from Hogwarts to come and play Harry’ll know it wasn’t.”

“I’ve got an idea.” Loki said.

And so the plan was born. With Ron and Hermione’s help, Loki had smuggled up two dozen
enchanted brooms, top quality from Diagon Alley, to Asgard. Loki had convinced first Tyr and
then the trainees that they absolutely had to learn how to fly on brooms and play this unnecessarily
dangerous game. The trainees had been eager. Tyr had been less so until he saw the bludgers in
action.

Next Loki had had to get the word out without having it reach his son’s ears. That was done by
sending Thor out into Asgard to talk to the Aesir about this new wonderful game he’d learnt about
on earth and how he hoped that he could bring it back to Asgard for everyone to see. Soon the
entire royal city was buzzing with curiosity about a game that was played 50 feet in the air and had
elements that were designed to injure you and send you plummeting to your death.

They were obsessed.

Convincing Odin to let him rearrange the Royal Arena had been far easier than he’d expected.
Really Loki had only had to explain that he wanted to deface a millennias old edifice to the
greatness of Asgard to trick Harry into celebrating his 16th birthday, and Odin asked what supplies
he needed. He’d feared that Odin would deny him, force him to find an alternate location. The
Royal Arena was only for the most official and sacred events after all. (Sacred to an Asgardian
meant, of course something very, very bloody that likely involved a sword.)

Frigga had volunteered, or rather demanded she be allowed to prepare the celebration feast after.
So preparations within the palace were done under Harry’s nose the two weeks before his birthday.
It was all coming together and Loki knew they’d be ready to start it the day before his son’s
birthday. From Harry’s perspective this would be a pick up quidditch game that had gained the
attention of the aesir, who loved watching games like this, and the aesir, well known for their love
of feasts, would insist on having a party to celebrate the winners.

Loki had no doubt his son would be the winner. None at all.

(He was also very willing to subtly hex any member of the opposing team if it looked like his son
might need a bit of help.)

Harry would get to play the game he loved and have a party to celebrate how wonderful he was.
Then they’d go back to earth and the next day, on Harry’s real birthday, they’d hold a small private
event with everyone Harry was closest to in the tower. Just like Harry wanted.

Yes. The plan was perfect.

Loki could see no flaws in his plan whatsoever.

Except for perhaps one.

“Hello, Loki.” Odin said.

“Why are you here?”

“You expected me not to come down to see my one and only grandson play this mortal game?”

“I…yes!” Loki growled.

Below them Loki watched as Harry took six of the trainees to one end of the arena while Ron took
the other six. There were some trainees who weren’t playing, those poor unfortunate souls were
with Hermione, talking strategy for when they would be allowed to play. Loki had been afraid that
Harry had gotten in trouble with Tyr, but based on the look in his son’s eyes it hadn’t been bad at
all.

“Well that hardly seems fair.” Odin said sitting down next to Loki. Loki had taken this place in the
arena because he intended to be the announcer for the game. Of course, he shouldn’t have been
surprised that Odin would want to bother him. “I gave you permission to put up those hoops and
enchant the arena floor so that it was softer. I should at least be allowed to see the results.”

“Fine.” Loki said, not interested in arguing. “You can see without speaking, you’re not a whale.”

“Loki. Is it truly so onerous to have a conversation with me?”

“You don’t have conversations, Odin. You give speeches and you make decrees. And I am done
with those.”

“I cannot become better if you don’t allow me to try.” Odin said stiffly. “I know I failed you, I do.
Just as I failed your mother and your brother and so many countless others. I want to fix it, Loki.
You must give me that chance.”

“I must?” Loki repeated. “Still demanding things you aren’t owed, then?”

Loki didn’t look over to see the frustration in Odin’s figure. People were starting to stream into the
arena in small groups. Word had gotten out, via Thor, that a game of quidditch was going to be
played and the curiosity was rampant. Harry and Ron were both figuring out their teams’ strategies.
It was a bit sad that Ron and Harry couldn’t be on the same team, but Ron was the only other child
with actual playing experience.

They’d given the trainees flying lessons so that they wouldn’t fall to their deaths, but that is far
different from playing in a real game.

“I don’t have to do anything Odin.” Loki said. “And I don’t see why I should. You have had
millennia to be a good father to me, millennia. Why is it that you’re suddenly so interested in doing
it now when I don’t need you.”

“Loki.”

“No. Shut up.” Loki said. “You wanted a conversation, then you have to actually listen to what I’m
saying.”

“Very well. Say your piece.”

“You were never there Odin. Never.” Loki said. “I hadn’t realized how absent you were until I
started taking care of Harry. I know, I do, that I tend to be a bit overzealous with my son. But
perhaps I’m just trying to be the exact opposite of you.”

“I was there.” Odin denied. “I was always in Asgard during your childhood.”

“That is not what I mean and you know it.” Loki said. “You didn’t teach me, you rebuked me. I
spent my entire childhood grasping for mere seconds of your approval and I never got it. Never.”

“I approved of you. You are my son.”

“Well you never showed it. You never did anything to say that, you never even said it.” Loki said.
“So forgive me for thinking you a liar.”

“What would you have had me do then? Hold your hand?” And why did he sound so dismissive?
As if Loki wouldn’t have jumped over himself to hold his son’s hand if he needed it. As if Loki
didn’t lose sleep at night wondering if his son had enough physical affection.

“Yes!” Loki said finally turning to glare at the man next to him. “What is so difficult to understand
about that? If I’d needed a hug or my hand being held I would have wanted you to do it! That’s
what it means to be a father.”

“I wanted to make you strong.”

“Then you should have showed me strength instead of dismissal.” Loki snapped. “Strength would
have been creating a world where I felt safe and accepted. Strength would have been showing me
how to be proud of who I was instead of ashamed. Strength would have been showing me how to
forgive and gain forgiveness. You never showed me any of that.”

“Safe? Asgard is the safest realm in the nine!”

“Not for a frost giant runt.”

“Is that what your complaint is?” Odin asked. “I don’t see how I could have changed all of
Asgard’s opinion on Frost Giants.”

“You are the All Father.” Loki said. “If anyone could have done something it would have been
you. You and you alone had the power to change how the aesir see the other races but you chose
the easy way out. Instead of changing the world to fit me, you changed me so I would fit with this
world.”

Loki leaned forward, his elbows planted on his knees. His son was laughing, from this distance it
was hard to tell why but that hardly mattered.

“You forced me into a shape that wasn’t my own without my consent and you lied to me about it
for my entire life.” Loki said. “All because you didn’t care enough to create a world where I could
be myself.”

“I wanted you to be safe.”

“Did you?” Loki asked. “Because all it did was drive me to madness. And now, I face the awful
fate of knowing nothing about my own species. I don’t even know if my son’s inherited any frost
giant blood or magic from me. If he did I wouldn’t even know how to help him. Eventually he’ll
want to know about that part of himself, about that part of me. And I will have nothing to give him
but stories of monsters beneath my bed.”
“I never wanted you to question your place with me.”

“You can tell me every day what you wanted and what you intended.” Loki snapped. “But that will
never matter because it is not what you did. I have no interest in pandering to you now that you’re
finally willing to change. I’m an adult man, I have a child of my own. You can’t turn back the
clock and wipe away all the neglect Odin and I have very little reason to let you try.”

“So that’s it? You wish to end things like this? Leave your family fractured into pieces?”

“My family is on earth.” Loki said motioning down to his son. The boy was glowing with
excitement. “I have a son, two shield brothers, and Thor I suppose. It is the family I made, the
family I trust. I’m not the one who fractured Asgard’s royal family.”

“You would forsake your mother?”

“Frigga isn’t my mother. I don’t even know who my mother is. I’ll never know because I will
never be welcome in Jontunheim long enough to figure it out.” Loki said. “Frigga is a good woman
and I…I love her. But I can’t trust her, not knowing the lies she told me. Maybe one day I could
forgive her, but that’s because I know she loves me. I don’t know that about you.”

“I do love you.”

“Words mean very little to the god of lies.” Loki said.

“Very well.” Odin said standing up. “Then I suppose I’ll just have to prove it.”

Loki watched the older god go, forcing himself not to hope. Carefully he stood up himself. The
arena was filling quite quickly now with buzzing and excited Asgardians. Thor had even settled
down with his friends, excited to see his first game. Loki cleared his throat and waved at Ron, the
boy gave a thumbs up. Loki nodded, cast a spell to enhance the volume of his voice, and began.

“People of Asgard! You have come here today to witness a spectacle of epic proportions!” Loki
began.

It was easy to pretend that Odin hadn’t once again gutted him. That he wasn’t bothered by a man
who was doing too little for him much too late. What did it matter that Odin wanted to repair their
relationship? Loki didn’t need him, didn’t need his forgiveness or support. Loki had become what
he was today despite Odin’s actions and he didn’t need Odin bursting in and ruining that.

He didn’t.

The game began with the teams taking to the air, Ron going to guard one set of hoops while
Hemrod went to the others. One of the trainees not on either team went up into the air to release the
quaffle while Hermione stood in the center of the arena, ready to free the two bludgers and the
snitch. When Loki finished counting down from three, the game began and he immediately jumped
into announcer mode, forcing himself to forget about Odin.

All of this was for Harry at the end of the day. The feast Frigga had secretly ordered and prepared.
The stories and praises Thor had shared with the Aesir. The hours of flying lessons Ron and Loki
had given the trainees. All of it was for Harry, so that the boy could play the game he loved
without worrying. A little pocket of joy, of light, in the dark times they lived in. A good memory
for him to cling to when things got too hard.

The work had been worth it too. Seeing Harry whip around in the air like he’d been born to fly
filled him with joy. Hearing the crowds cheer and gasp whenever he neatly dodged a bludger or
feinted against another player made Loki want to shout, to exalt. Had Odin ever felt this way about
Loki? Or even about Thor? Or had he always held himself too distant to truly revel in his sons’
accomplishments?

The game was exciting, certainly. The trainees were just good enough on their brooms to not fall
off and be a hazard to themselves. They were also bad enough that it added a level of danger and
tension that kept the aesir on the edge of their seats. Loki’s commentary and Hermione’s
willingness to ensure that the point counter was kept up to date helped as well.

Whenever Ron blocked a shot from the quaffle or, one of the trainees hit a bludger there were
shouts and waving of fists. Every time points were scored the cheers were deafening. This was the
sort of entertainment Asgardians were born for. It involved all of their favorite things; competition
and the constant threat of injury. Harry was an absolutely beautiful player too. Loki had to keep
himself from focusing all of his narration on his son, and his skills with a broom. There were, after
all, 13 other people playing and he knew too well what favoritism did to someone.

“And that is 10 points for Sigrun!” Loki shouted when Ron failed to block a quaffle. Harry’s team
had named themselves Sigrun and Ron’s was named Betri. They’d even gone so far as to change
the color of the shirts they were wearing to match their team’s hastily chosen colors. Sigrun was
blue and Betri was orange. “That makes the total points 120 for Sigrun and 110 for Betri! We are
neck and neck here! And still no sign of the snitch anywhere!”

It took an hour for the snitch to appear and when it did Harry and the other seeker, Herdic, dived
for it at the same time. The snitch had been flitting around near to the ground, close to the exit of
the arena. Loki continued to narrate as the two fliers sped towards the stone floor. Herdic pulled up
ten feet from the ground to avoid a collision, but Harry just flattened himself closer to his broom
and kept going.

The snitch flew up towards the walls of the arena, the walls were about ten feet tall and held up the
weight of the seats and the aesir that occupied them. The walls had been carved from granite and
were comprised of thick cubes that were stuck together with magic. The snitch flew along the
slightly curved walls and Harry moved to follow. He twisted down the concave curve, mere inches
from the stone wall. The snitch continued to flit and flicker out of reach.

Asgardians were screaming, nearly throwing themselves off the wall to get a good look at the
insane demi-god. The snitch flew into the crowds and they dove back, to give Harry room for his
pursuit. The beaters of Ron’s team sent bludgers at Harry, that Harry dodged by pulling up at a 90
degree angle. The bludgers banged into the stone seats, denting them and sending rock shards into
the air.

Harry dove to the right as the bludgers got up to fly back into the game. He reoriented himself
towards the snitch and then…

Let go of his broom.

He began to fall at high speeds towards the snitch and to the ground 30 feet below. The crowds
screamed again, and then Harry held out a hand and summoned his broom. The broom flew down
and caught Harry mere feet from the ground, slowing his descent so that he didn’t splatter into the
earth. Harry instead rolled on the ground a few times before forcing himself up.

Silence.

Harry held up his hand and revealed the weakly fluttering snitch.
“AND HE’S DONE IT! HARALDR LOKISON HAS CAPTURED SNITCH FOR A TOTAL OF
150 POINTS! TEAM SIGRUN WINS!”

The resulting cheers were deafening.

Loki fell back into his seat and tried to catch his breath. That child was going to be the death of
him.
 Happy Birthday Dear Harry
Chapter Summary

A Tradition is shared and a birthday celebrated.

Chapter Notes

Hey everyone!! Thanks so much for the brilliant comments! I'm glad you all enjoyed
the Quidditch! I skipped over the feast in Asgard but just know everyone ate a lot of
food and had fun!

11:56

Harry sat huddled on the ground, blanket around his shoulders, and knees nearly touching the floor
to ceiling window he was sitting in front of. They’d gotten back stupidly late from Asgard, really
less than an hour before. The feast had been unexpected and fantastic. He’d always enjoyed
celebrating Quidditch wins and that win had really been something. He hadn’t realized how much
he’d missed the game until he had an opportunity to play it again without Umbridge bothering him.

His body felt pleasantly sore and he was certainly exhausted. His body floated along as he looked
out the window and onto the night life of New York City and he knew he should get up and go to
his bed. But a tradition was a tradition.

11:57

He was about to turn 16.

He considered what he’d be doing right then if he’d not listened to Ron when he’d suggested that
Harry actually go and punch his dad. He would probably be in that tiny room in Privet Drive. He’d
be starving certainly, unaware of how much food he needed to consume and his aunt and uncle
unwilling to feed him enough for a normal human regardless. Maybe Dumbledore would have
picked him up by now, taking him to Grimmauld Place or The Burrow to stay as a ‘gift’ for
behaving himself.

He considered all of the good things that had come into his life. Sirius’ rescue. Thor’s support.
Tyr’s teachings. His dad’s love. Even the tattoo on his wrist that connected him with Ron and
Hermione. He wouldn’t have had any of those things, well except for the tattoo, if he’d followed
along with Dumbledore’s plans. If he hadn’t made a choice for himself. His dad would still be
alone here in New York, thinking he failed to save him, and Sirius would be alone in that awful fog
world.

Harry felt at peace sitting there. Maybe it was the exhaustion. It probably was. But the stress and
anger he’d felt before the Quidditch game had faded. His worries over his ability to be the person
the world needed him to be had been set aside. Things were good. He’d made the right choice
running to New York.

11:58

“Starlight?”

“Hey dad.” Harry said, his voice raspy after an hour of silence. His dad wandered into the room.
The darkness chased away by a bauble of light he conjured.

“What are you doing up? A nightmare?”

“No. I haven’t gone to bed yet.”

“Whyever not? You have to be tired after today.”

“It’s…personal.”

“Oh?” His dad sat down next to him, and shifted around so that he was looking at him, elbow
planted on a propped up knee and his face resting in the raised hand.

“Normally I’m by myself on my birthday.” Harry said. “No one…made a big deal of it when I was
growing up and Ron and Hermione could send stuff on my birthday, but I was still alone.”

“Are you feeling overwhelmed? I promise you tomorrow is going to be very casual.”

“No. I just have a tradition I guess.” Harry said. “I wait up till midnight and then…then I sing
happy birthday cause then someone did you know?”

His cheeks turned very red at that and he looked immediately out the window to hide his
mortification. How sad was it that he’d never had anyone sing him Happy Birthday before, that he
always had to do it for himself. Usually locked in a room while feeling a bit too hungry and angry
with the world.

“I see.” His dad said, his voice subdued. “Would you like me to go then?”

“What? No.” Harry said. “You can stay.”

11:59

“So, you sing it right at midnight?”

“Yep.” Harry said. “Right when the clock strikes 12.”

“Just one verse?”

“Any more would be a bit sad don’t you think?”

As if this wasn’t already sad enough. Harry licked his lips and took in a deep breath.

“Have you ever visited mum?”

“What?”
“Her grave? People bring flowers to graves.” Harry said, as if his dad didn’t know. “I’ve never
been, I don’t even know where it is.”

“I’ve never gone there myself.” His dad said. “But I know where it is. I can take you there if you’d
like.”

“Can we go now?” Harry asked, feeling bold.

“Now?”

“If we go now, we might make it before…”

Never mind that according to time zones midnight had already happened in Britain. That wasn’t the
point. The point was that Harry wanted to spend his birthday, the part he’d celebrated regularly by
himself for most of his life, with his parents. His dad sniffed and then snapped his fingers. Shoes
were magicked onto Harry’s feet along with a warm jacket. Then his dad pulled him to his side and
Harry immediately hugged him. Magic pulled them along and a moment later Harry found himself
standing in a graveyard, or right outside the gates of one.

Harry straightened his shoulders and stepped away from his dad. But not so far that he couldn’t still
hold the man’s hand. Carefully they pushed open the gate together. It was early in the morning, a
little bit before the sun would rise but Harry pretended that it was dark and murky. They walked
through the aisles of grave stones, looking for the right one. They found it soon enough. A large
rectangular stone that was so white it glowed in the starlight.

Harry and Loki both paused in front of the grave and read the words written on it.

The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.

Carefully they sat down together, the blanket that Harry had been wearing as a cape, placed
beneath them to protect them from the freezing morning dew.

12:00

“Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday dear Harry.” His dad sang, while
holding Harry to his side. He wasn’t a bad singer surprisingly, although his voice was thick and
clogged. “Happy birthday to you.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me for that Starlight.”

“Not that…I mean coming here.” Harry said. “It’s hard.”

“I shouldn’t have waited so long. Your mother is likely very cross with me.”

“Is she though?” Harry asked. “Can she…Where is she?”

“I don’t know exactly where she is.” His dad said after a few moments of contemplation. “No one
knows what happens to souls that pass on. All we know is that the soul departs and that its energy
goes somewhere. Since souls are so immutable it’s easy to guess that wherever they go, they
remain the same. Wherever your mother is, whatever the afterlife is, she’s still the woman who
loved us both so much.”
“Oh.”

To think that they were sitting what was essentially on top of his mother. That what remained of his
mum in this existence was laying cold under the ground. Tears stung his eyes and immediately
started running down his cheeks. He missed her so much it ached. He didn’t even know why he
missed her. He had no memories of her except for the one where she was begging for her life. He
didn’t know her. And yet the pain lingered and festered.

His breath hitched and his dad pulled him a bit closer. A sob crawled up out of his throat, painful
and jagged. He looked at the nearly glowing gravestone and watched as it became blurry through
his tears.

“Oh Starlight.” His dad said. “Come here. It’s alright.”

But it wasn’t alright. It wasn’t. His dad gathered him up, pulling him to his chest so that he could
cry without anyone seeing and began to pet his hair in an attempt to soothe him. Harry just cried.
He cried like he had after seeing Sirius fall through the veil. Like he had when he’d carried
Cedric’s body back to Hogwarts. He cried and cried and cried.

12:23

“Feeling better?”

“Not really.”

“It’s okay to miss her.”

“I didn’t even get to know her. That’s not okay dad. It’s not.”

“No. I don’t suppose it is.”

12:31

“Your mother didn’t like flowers.”

“She didn’t?”

“No. Hated them. Came from being named Lily. She received far too many plant based gifts over
the years, gave her a complex.”

“And who was giving her those gifts?”

“I’ve no idea what you’re implying.

12:37

“What was your wedding like? Was it…nice?”

“Small. Your mother didn’t want to trouble anyone with a big party. Besides that we had so few
people to invite. Her parents were dead and so were mine. We mostly had the other Marauders and
the Order to ask to come and plenty of them were on missions.”

“Did you like it?”

“I can’t remember ever being happier.”

“Really?”

“She looked so terribly radiant in that dress. She outshone every goddess I’ve ever known and I
could feel her love for me. Nothing compared.”

12:42

“Of course, your mother didn’t approve of my plans.”

“It was just a kid’s broom.”

“That’s what I said! I didn’t account for your…adventurous spirit or for the welfare of our cat.”

“We had a cat?”

“Yes. It’s a tradition from Asgard to give a newlywed couple a cat. Normally it would be the job of
the in laws to gift it but…well it wasn’t hard to find a good cat for our home. A handsome
strapping thing it was, more fluff than actual body. It a…it died that night I believe.”

“Oh. What was its name?”

“Don’t tell your uncle but I named it Thor. It was blonde and far too eager to please.”

12:49

“Her favorite food was white chocolate. Couldn’t get enough of the stuff. Whenever we fought, I
had to get pounds of it just to get her to look at me again.”

“Pounds?”

“I’m pretty sure she was just teasing me to see how much chocolate I would actually buy.”

“And how much was that?”

“Let’s just say I made Honeydukes run out of stock a few times.”

12:56

“We lived near here. Our home was just a few streets down, under the fidelus. It was perfect
Harry. Your mother and I painted the walls by hand, I even learnt to use a few tools to help repair
our furniture.”

“Why didn’t you just use magic?”

“We both wanted it to be…real and solid. Something held together by our hands and not just our
minds. We wanted to put care into it. So that you could feel our love in every wall and dish.”

“It sounds nice.”

“It was lovely. I think it might be nice to go back, fix it up.”

“Really? Won’t that hurt?”

“That place was my first true home, I built it with my hands and with Lily by my side. I miss it, I
miss sleeping in my room and cooking in my kitchen. I miss dancing in the living room to silly
songs. I miss that life.” Loki said. “Besides. It’s not like I can live with Stark forever, eventually
the man is going to pass on of old age and then where will I be?”

“You’re going to stay on earth that long? What about Asgard?”

“I’ll visit certainly.” Loki said. “For Thor at least. But Earth is my home now and no matter what
happens I’m not ever leaving it again.”

1:10

“I nearly fainted three times when Lily was in labor with you. I did faint when her water broke.”

“Dad.”

“What? She was giving birth to the first demigod in millennium, forgive me for being stressed!”

“I’m pretty sure mum needed you.”

“Nonsense, she had Alice there.”

“Alice?”

“Yes. Alice Longbottom, one of her best friends. She was the maid of honor out our wedding.”

“You knew Neville’s parents?”

“I can’t believe they named their child Neville. Have you met them?”

“Once. In St. Mungo’s. They’ve been there since Mum died.”

“What happened?”

“Bellatrix got ‘em. The Cruciatus. Nev visits them a lot but they…they’re not really there.”

“I see.”

1:38

“Your mother and I first met on the train to Hogwarts you know. She was beautiful even then.
Although more in the ‘don’t mess with me I will kick you in between the legs’ sort of way.”

“Did she ever stop looking like that?”

“About the time she agreed to start dating me.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever looked like that.”

“Oh, trust me Starlight. You have.”

3:49

“I wish I could talk to her. Ask her things.”

“You can ask me things.”

“I know but…You keep saying I’m so much like her and I want to know what she would do you
know? Because I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Your mother wasn’t all knowing you know. She was much smarter than me, don’t get me wrong,
but she wasn’t some perfect being. She had flaws and faults. I loved them just as much as I loved
everything else about her.”

“So, do you think she could have helped me?”

“I can’t think a better person for you to follow.”

4:21

“My legs are starting to hurt.”

“Do you want to head back?”

“Not really. It’s…It’s nice here. Being near mum.”

“Harry, you’re always with her. She left her magic with you, to carry with you. You’ve never been
without your mother.”

“I guess. But…this is where she is.”

“We can visit as often as you’d like. Even during the school year. You say the word and I’ll sneak
you away to Godric’s Hollow.”

“But without flowers, right?”

“We’ll bring her some chocolate.”

4:58

“I love you mum.”

“I adore you Lily.”

“We’ll be back soon. I promise.”

5:00

They appeared back in the tower, Harry felt exhausted. His dad half carried him to his bed, and
used magic to change Harry into some pajamas. Harry let his dad tuck him in, even going so far as
to place a kiss on his forehead. He was too tired to scrunch his face up in disgust.

“Thanks for taking me, dad.”

“Of course, Starlight.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” Another kiss on his head. “Now get some sleep. I’ll wake you for a late
breakfast.”

Harry snuggled into his bed and let his exhaustion finally pull him under. He dreamt of laughter,
laughter that was so different from the screams the dementors let him hear and yet he knew to be
from the same source. He dreamt of two people dancing in a sunlit kitchen and he dreamt of a
yellow cat with a tail perfect for tugging on.

10:00

“WAKE UP PUP!”

“Wha-”

Harry opened his eyes to see that Sirius was literally bouncing on his bed. Harry groaned and
flipped around so that he could hide his face in his pillow. Sirius clearly didn’t like being ignored
because Harry heard him promise Harry that he’d regret it. The next thing he knew there were four
paws pressing down on his back and legs while a dog howled like his life depended on it. Harry
growled and flipped around, using his godly strength he picked up the dog and tossed it.

Sirius transformed back into a human and landed on his feet.

“Come on, get out of bed! You can’t sleep the whole day away.”

“Just watch me.” Harry fell back into his bed, intent on falling back asleep. Or at least pretending
too.

“Oh no you don’t. Levicorpus.”

Harry yelped as magic took him off the bed, his blanket falling off of him and landing half on the
bed and half on the floor.

“Put me down!”

“Never!”

Sirius laughed as he dragged Harry through the air, out of his bedroom, up the stairs, and towards
the penthouse. Harry tried to break free of the spell, but as he was half asleep and annoyed, he
didn’t have much success. When they got to the penthouse it was to the Avengers, the Grangers,
and his dad all lounging around. Remus was also there, but he was sipping tea and chatting with
Bruce while pretending that he couldn’t see Harry’s dilemma.

“The birthday boy is here!”

“I hate you.”

“I love you too pup!”

With that Sirius placed a wet kiss on his cheek, complete with smacking sound and deposited him
on a chair, right next to Hermione. Harry grumbled under his breath, but his dad just slid a plate
full of food towards him and Harry’s anger was appeased in the face of french toast.

“Good morning.” Tony said. “We were just talking about your quidditch game yesterday. We were
sad to miss it.”

“Not like it was planned or anything.” Harry said by way of an apology. “When I have my next
game, you all can come.”

“You should have seen it though.” Thor crooned. “His flying was amazing! The way he dodged
those bludgers!”

“Thor. Trust me.” Remus said. “I’ve seen plenty of Harry’s games. Nothing he did in Asgard can
top what he did in his third year.”

“He literally jumped off his broom and plummeted to the ground to catch the snitch.”

“Harry once, mid game, cast a patronous one of the most difficult spells a wizard can cast, at a
dementor that had wandered onto the field and then he caught the snitch.” It had actually been
Malfoy under a cloak, but Harry didn’t feel like correcting Remus.

“Dementors?” His dad demanded.

“My fault!” Sirius sang. “I’d just escaped Azkaban and everyone thought I was going to break into
Hogwarts and slit Harry’s throat while he slept. They sent the dementors to guard the school.”

“It was awful.” Harry said. “Hated those things. Had Remus teach me the patronous just so I could
make them go away.”

“What are dementors?” Steve asked, intrigued.

“Dark magical creatures. You can’t see ‘em if you don’t have magic yourself.” Sirius said. “But
they feed off of human misery. Their mere presence forces anyone in the vicinity to relive their
worst memories in hyper detail. If you’re further away you’ll just feel cold and dreadful. Too close
and they’ll give you the kiss.”

“The kiss.” Hermione piped up before anyone could ask. “Is when the dementor literally eats your
soul and leaves you a mindless husk.”

“And they sent those things to guard a school?” Clint demanded.

“Minister Fudge’s idea.” Harry told them. “Wanted to be seen as ‘doing something’ about Sirius.”

“I can’t count the number of students I had to give chocolate to over the year.” Remus said.
“Chocolate gives people a bit of immunity from a dementor’s influence. I carried about a thousand
bars in my robes just to give out to the kids who were especially weak to it.”
“Did it even work? Keep the kids safe from the terrifying Sirius Black?” Natasha asked, wryly
looking at Sirius.

“Hell no. I’d been dealing with those bitches for over a decade.” Sirius said, puffing out his chest in
pride. “I just stayed in my dog form mostly and they left me alone.”

“It’s how he got around the castle. Gave all of us about ten heart attacks.” Hermione finished.

“Are we going to keep talking about this?” Harry asked, looking up from his half-eaten plate.

“Are you alright?” Thor asked.

“Just thinking.” Harry admitted. “About all the kids that got hurt from that. I mean it was bad for
me. The dementors made me faint, cause of the scar and all.”

“Your scar hurt around dementors? Why would it do that?” His dad asked.

“No idea, just hurts.”

“Hmm.”

“You’re concerned about the other kids?” Remus asked. “Don’t worry, influence from a dementor
fades after a few months. All of the kids should have recovered completely over the summer.”

“Right well.” Harry said. “That’s good.”

He continued to think though, even as the conversation flowed onward. Last night he’d considered
his choice at the beginning of the summer. A choice that Dumbledore hadn’t wanted him to make,
a choice Dumbledore had done everything in his power to hide. But it hadn’t mattered, Harry had
broken free.

Harry had found a third choice.

The Americans had found a third choice in him too. They wanted to fight Voldemort but they
didn’t want to play Dumbledore’s games. The Avengers had found a third option. Not Voldemort,
Not Dumbledore. Harry. Harry was the third option in this war. People who wanted what was right
and didn’t want to submit to Dumbledore’s manipulations.

But there were plenty of people who couldn’t make that choice because they didn’t know that
Harry was no longer Dumbledore’s lacky.

“Is it time for gifts?” His dad asked. “All this heavy talk has distracted us from why we’re all here.
It’s my son’s birthday.”

Harry filed away his thoughts for later. He needed to talk to Ron and Hermione about it before he
even attempted to come up with a plan. But he had a good feeling that his friends would be all over
it.

“Gifts!” Thor shouted. “Let’s get out the gifts!”

Harry pushed away his now empty plate and watched as everyone in the room pulled out wrapped
gifts from behind their backs or beneath their chairs. Harry looked over at his dad and gave him a
smile.

Happy Birthday to him.

 A Family Found
Chapter Summary

The summer is coming to an end and none of the Avengers are looking forward to
saying goodbye to the magic users.

Chapter Notes

Woo! Last week's update was terribly bittersweet, here's a chapter that's mostly sweet.

“So, I bought property.”

“We’re not playing Monopoly right now Tony.” Steve said, not looking up from his plate.

“What? No. I mean in real life. I bought some property.”

“And you’re telling us about this why?” Natasha asked.

“If you’d stop interrupting me I’d tell you.”

“Fine fine.” Bruce said. “Tell us about this property.”

“It’s beautiful guys, not my normal aesthetic but good.” Tony began. “Tudor Style Mansion
practically. Ancient thing, I bought it at the beginning of the summer but it hasn’t been ready until
now. Had to do a lot of refurbishments on it to make it habitable while also keeping in with the…
historical aspects. I dunno one of my lawyers keeps track of all of that.”

“Tony. You’re monologuing.” Clint warned.

“Right. You know how Loki, Hermione, and Harry are packing up to go to Scotland in a week?”

They knew that. Thor had been very sad to see the signs of his departing brother and nephew. Not
to mention the disappearance of Lady Hermione. The Grangers had settled into New York well.
Their dentistry business, which serviced workers at Stark Industries was booming and they had
already made plenty of friends. Whatever tension the adults had felt at being there had faded and
they felt comfortable enough greeting the heroes when they saw each other while also having more
than enough to do on their own.

They were also the only adults not to be extremely disappointed that the magic users were leaving.
This would the be sixth time they would see their child off for boarding school and they knew how
to handle it. Thor and the rest of the Avengers had gotten used to Harry being around. To having
Remus and Sirius causing trouble. And they’d all grown to love Loki and accept him. No one was
happy about the magic users leaving for Hogwarts.

“What about it?” Thor asked.

“Well I might have…asked a little trickster if he knew the location of Hogwarts, like on a regular
map.” Tony said. “And he did. The nearest village to the school is Hogsmeade which is an all
magic village so no one but Thor is allowed inside. Like literally, if we tried to go in there we’d
just get magicked back before we got close.”

“We already know about Hogsmeade.” Bruce said.

“But did you know that about 20 miles away from Hogsmeade there’s a quaint little Scottish
village that just so happened to be home to a Mansion that used to belong to some lord or king or
something and I bought it?”

“Tony.” Thor said grinning.

“Sirius helped me with the final touches.” Tony said. “We put in a doorway in the penthouse that
when you open it leads to the entryway of the mansion. We’ll still live here in New York for
security purposes but there’s nothing saying we can’t pop over to Scotland occasionally and then
use one of the specially made portkeys that’ll take us to the castle gates. Maybe we can visit for
Harry’s games.”

“Tony.” Clint said. “You old sap.”

“Yeah. Yeah whatever. I just figured that since all of you were going to be so glum about it that I
might as well do something. Not like I’m going to miss Harry or Hermione or anything.”

“But you said you bought the house months ago.”

“I think ahead.” Tony mumbled. “For Steve. He’s too emotional you know.”

“Right.” Steve said. “Well thank you Tony, I appreciate you taking into account my
sentimentality.”

“And mine.” Thor said. “I was going to miss my nephew terribly.”

“Yeah. Don’t cry about it or anything.”

They all pretended to believe Tony, well used to his inability to admit to having ‘feelings’.
Personally, Thor thought it was adorable. They all knew that Tony was going to be the worst about
missing the kids. He’d spent a lot of time with Hermione in the lab, teaching her engineering and
physics and in return being taught a voracious amount of magical theory. Two insane babbling
geniuses melding together like alchemy.

Tony himself had been brighter since having Hermione around. The billionaire had adored having
a person around who had crazy ideas and questions and had no hesitation in testing them out with
Tony. The amount of times they’d seen the two experimenters with singed hair from a test gone
wrong (and occasionally one gone right) was too numerous to count. Thor wouldn’t be surprised if
Tony had bought that Scottish Mansion just to avoid not being able to see his little mentee.

The Grangers had approved of it, they preferred it over their daughter wielding a battle axe for
reasons Thor couldn’t comprehend. Hermione was wonderful with an axe. Of course, she had to
cast a spell to lighten it for her slightly since Asgardian metals were quite dense for humans but
beyond that she used it wonderfully. A fearsome warrior indeed.

“Has it really been an entire summer?” Clint asked.

“August went by quickly.” Natasha agreed. “I don’t think we’ve ever been this busy between fights
before. Normally we fight something, go back to the tower and…”

“Speak for yourself.” Tony said. “I have a real job to go to.”

“You gave the real job to your girlfriend.”

“Not because she was my girlfriend but because she’s amazing. I don’t like the nepotism
accusation! Besides I may not be CEO but I still am the face of the company and I do a lot of
R&D. The rest of you just relax on my dime.”

“Yes Tony.” Steve said. “We know we owe you a lot. But Nat’s got a point, we didn’t spend much
time with each other outside of training and fights.”

“Yeah well…” Tony shrugged. “Didn’t seem like something we wanted to do.”

“I’m glad we’ve changed.” Thor decided. “We are shield brothers now, not just a team.”

And that was certainly true. While they did not dislike each other before Harry’s arrival they also
had very little tying them together. They had the invasion of New York and keeping an eye on Loki
as the two reasons they even lived together in the same place. Now that Loki didn’t require keeping
an eye on, his innocence and sincerity proven beyond a doubt and trust having been gained, there
should have even been less reason for them to talk.

Steve had once expressed a desire to leave and find a place on his own. Clint and Natasha had in
the beginning mentioned needing to return to work with SHIELD. Bruce, ever the most slippery,
had tried to escape multiple times with various excuses. Even Thor had wondered if it would be
better for him to leave this team and go spend more time with Jane.

By all rights, they shouldn’t even be together in the penthouse. Before Harry they used it so rarely,
preferring to spend time by themselves. But Tony had volunteered his living space as a team
gathering site and it had become comfortable. There were video games to play and everyone’s
favorite snacks stored in the kitchen. Things felt comfortable and homey in a way Thor had never
expected to find on earth and it was thanks to the strong bonds he had with these brilliant humans.

“What exactly is a shield brother?” Bruce asked.

“Oh I can answer that!” Hermione piped up.

“Hey!” Tony said brightly. “When did you get up here Elphaba?”

“Just now.” She said. “I came to remind you we have lab time scheduled in an hour. You were late
last time.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I promise I won’t forget.”

“Why do you know what a shield brother is?” Clint asked.

“I read about it obviously.” She said. “And…well, if you promise not to tell my parents I might
have a bit more practical knowledge as well.”

“Already been sworn to secrecy kid you know that.” Hermione looked pointedly at everyone else
who nodded and promised not to mention it with varying degrees of sincerity. Then she nodded and
walked over while rolling up her sleeve, she revealed her bare wrist to show an intricate knotted
mark. Marks that Thor would know anywhere.
“This is a mark of…brotherhood you could say.” She said. “They’re magical tattoos you get when
you promise to be another person’s shield brother or sister. It’s a bond, sort of like family, but
different. It’s one you chose and one that’s build on experiences not blood. It’s a symbol of love
and affection and trust.”

“And you have one?”

“Of course, I have one.” She sniffed, letting her arm fall back and her sleeve slip down covering
the mark. “When Harry found out his dad was…well Loki, he was frightened and confused. Had
no idea what to do or who to be. Me and Ron wanted to make sure he knew that no matter what he
had us. We were his family and we’d be by his side. So we did the little ceremony and got our
marks.”

“That was very kind of you.” Thor said.

“Practical.” She corrected. “That way anytime Harry gets the stupid idea that he should just go out
on his own he has a reminder as to why that’s a terrible idea inked in his skin. And when he went
to New York, we’d be with him in spirit.”

“So, when Thor says that we’re shield brothers…?” Steve pushed.

“That’s sort of personal. Ron, Harry, and I just…knew I suppose. We didn’t get along at first but
now there’s no doubt that’s what we are. If you all have a bond like that then eventually you’ll
know too.”

“She’s correct.” Thor agreed. “It’s not a sentiment declared lightly. I make it because…I feel at
home with you all here. I had been afraid that my time on earth would be lonely, even with Jane
and my other friends, that I would miss my home and my people. Now I am hardly ever homesick
because I have friends like you.”

Suddenly based on the mystified looks on some of his friends faces’ Thor realized he might have
misstepped.

“It’s fine if you don’t feel the same.” Thor said, reassured. “I know you are my friends and that is
what is important.”

“How do you get one of those tattoos?” Tony asked, looking at Hermione. “There’s no blood
sacrifice or anything is there? I don’t want blood on my 1000 dollar carpet.”

“Tony…” Thor said.

“Hey, I might be…allergic to emotions but that doesn’t mean I can’t…what’s the ritual?”

“Oh, it’s simple!” Hermione said. “You just raise your hand, state your true name and declare that
you are a shield brother or sister to however many other people are participating in the ceremony.
Then your magic binds you…although since most of you don’t have magic I think you’d have to
get a magic user to help facilitate.”

“That simple?” Clint murmured. “Seems like the sort of thing you’d need a potion or something
for.”

“No. Sometimes the best magic is just the simplest.” Hermione said. “Now. Harry and I were…
working on something, so I’ll see you in an hour Mr. Stark.”

“For the last time Elphie! It’s Tony.”

“Whatever you say Mr. Stark.” And then with a smirk that was far from innocent the girl genius
left, going back down the elevator to work on projects unknown.

“What do you think the kids are working on anyway?” Steve asked. “Every time I come in the
room they freeze.”

“Me too.” Bruce said. “Must be something exciting.”

“I know Remus knows what it is.” Natasha said. “Cornered him about it but he slipped away
before giving it up. He doesn’t seem worried though, I doubt it’s dangerous.”

“Do you think it’s got anything to do with why their breath smelt like plant matter last week?”
Clint asked. “I noticed it and pointed it out and Harry lied and said it was a new tea they were
drinking.”

“Somebody needs to teach that kid a better poker face.” Steve said. “I don’t support lying but…
really it’s getting sort of sad at this point.”

“I’ll get on it.” Nat said. “Give him some pointers before he leaves for school.”

The conversation continued between them, eating brunch and gossiping like old women together.
None of them brought up the shield brother thing again but Thor suspected it was on all of their
minds. It was certainly on his mind. Thor had of course done this ritual before, with the Warrior
Three and Sif. It was a bond he still felt, and the mark rested on his chest forevermore. But Thor
felt far less proud of the mark as of late. It was a mark he had formed without Loki, an exclusion he
wanted to claim was accidental but he knew better. He’d been young and foolish and cruel.

Loki had found mortals to form that bond with, his Marauders, but that didn’t change that Thor had
excluded Loki from that sort of bond for centuries beforehand. And now here he was in the same
exact situation, a team he trusted and loved was considering that next step and they were doing it
without Loki.

Thor wouldn’t allow it to happen twice. He wouldn’t. Loki was, in a twisted sort of way, the
person who had brought them together. First by his invasion and subsequent sentencing and again
with his son and his willingness to accept their help fighting Voldemort and his kin. Excluding
Loki would be excluding an important part of their history and of Thor’s family here on earth.

Tony left the brunch first, going down to his lab to get to work on his techno-magical experiments
with Hermione. Slowly the others began to disperse too for their own personal tasks. Thor himself
wandered away from the penthouse and down to the floor that he shared with Loki and Harry. Loki
was in Scotland today, the man had some ‘training’ to do that was required of new instructors at
the school that would keep him away for a few days. In order to keep up the ruse that he was a
teacher and not Harry’s father he wouldn’t be able to spend much time here in New York in the
next week.

He wouldn’t even be able to see Harry off on the train. That would be Remus and Sirius’ job this
year. So far as Thor knew, Harry was now by himself with Hermione gone to work with Tony.
Perhaps Thor could tempt him into a training session or to play a game with him that afternoon. It
would be a good way to spend the day Thor thought. He was after all still competing for title of
best uncle against Black and any little bit helped right?

Thor stepped out of the elevator and began making his way towards his nephew’s room. To his
confusion he heard a strange rustling and turned away from the hallway that led to the bedrooms
and went to the small living room that was connected to their personal kitchen. Thor carefully
reached for his hammer, ready to use it if someone was breaking into the tower. He pressed his
back along the wall and quietly slunk forward towards the strange noises.

He turned the corner and paused at the sight before him.

There was a raven on the back of the couch.

Thor knew ravens. His father used to breed them. His favorites, Huginn and Muninn, had spent a
long time on Odin’s shoulders acting as two extra sets of eyes. When he’d been a young man those
two birds had spied on him and whenever he’d been up to trouble, they’d tattle on him to Odin.
Thor had gained an appreciation for their intelligence and playfulness once he grew a bit older.
There was still a raven aviary in the palace that Odin would visit when he was especially troubled.

The raven on the couch was small enough and had the shape of one not quite grown. The flight
feathers had replaced the first fluffy kinds but it still had a bit of awkward growing left to do. The
pronounced feathers below the beak hadn’t yet grown in either. Thor liked the young ravens best
out of all of them. They were more sociable and playful than the adults. This was probably because
they were small enough to know they could still be eaten by something larger than them and liked
the protection Thor offered, but still.

Even Loki liked ravens for all Huginn and Muninn had ratted them out as children. They were
tricky and smart and were amendable to getting into any sort of mischief if there was food
involved.

But where had this raven come from? There were no open windows in the room, had it snuck in
through a vent? Thor watched as the raven ruffled it’s feathers a little, and then hopped from place
to place on the back of the couch. The bird seemed to be gearing up for something. Thor watched
as the lights overhead glinted off the black feathers and gave a purple iridescent sheen.

The bird let out his wings and jumped off the couch. Thor expected it to start flying around,
perhaps do some tricks. He had once seen a particularly crafty raven fly upside down around the
palace for what appeared to be no reason at all. Instead he had to hold back a laugh as the bird
awkwardly flapped it’s wings, failed to catch any air and dropped to the ground. Ah, so it was very
young then. Just learning to fly.

He was content to watch as the raven got back up, hopped onto the couch with a harsh flap of their
wings and tried again. Most ravens had their parents and siblings to teach them but it seemed this
poor thing was on it’s own as it attempted to learn. The bird attempted it five more times with
various success until it finally managed to get airborne. It began to circle in the room, learning how
hard to flap to stay steady, growing in confidence.

At least it was until it turned towards Thor and spotted him. The raven squawked in shock, lost its
flow and started to fall out of the sky. Thor jumped forward and carefully caught the juvenile
raven.

“Well hello there.” He said. “Aren’t you a handsome bird? It’s been such a long time since I’ve
seen a raven as fine as you.”

He was well aware that while ravens couldn’t necessarily understand words completely, they did
know when they were being complimented. Thor helped the young raven stabilize on his arm and
looked at the shifting bird.

“How did you get inside here little bird? Did someone bring you in or did you sneak in? I won’t tell
anyone if you snuck in.”
He got a better look at the bird and noticed a strange discoloration on the crown of its head.
Normally a raven’s feathers were all black, but up close he could see a few of the smaller feathers
on the crown of its head were white, forming a runic pattern. The bird’s eyes were also strangely
green, something he hadn’t seen on a raven before either. He normally would have assumed it was
an earth variant of the bird but…

“Harry?”

The bird looked away.

“Nephew.”

The bird ducked it’s head.

“I’d prefer to have this conversation with you having a human mouth.”

And so, the bird’s body began to grow, feather’s sinking back into skin until he had his nephew
clinging awkwardly to his arm.

“It’s me?” He said. “Surprise.”

“At least you didn’t greet me with a knife.”

“A knife? Why would I do that?”

“Long story.” Thor said. “I didn’t know your shapeshifting lessons with Loki had progressed this
far?”

“They haven’t?”

“Are you asking or telling me?”

“This is different. Dad’s teaching me aesir shapeshifting and that was a human version. Me, Ron,
and Hermione have been learning it together. It’s supposed to be a secret.”

“Uh Huh.”

“You’re not going to tell anyone are you? Come on Uncle Thor. Sirius and Remus don’t even know
we managed it yet. It’ll stay between us.” Harry said, still holding onto his arm and looking at him
with wide green eyes. Thor’s will immediately wavered.

“I don’t know…”

“It’s just until we’ve worked out all the kinks. I’m trying to figure out how to fly. Ron and
Hermione haven’t worked out how to move on four legs yet.”

“What do they turn into?”

“Hermione’s an otter and Ron’s is a cute little dog.” Harry answered easily. “Makes sense, otters
are super smart and so is Hermione and Ron’s super loyal just like a dog. I’m a raven I think cause
of the flying. Hermione said ravens are excellent flyers.”

“They are. Although you don’t seem to have inherited that.”

“Hey! You try having wings instead of hands sometime.” Thor giggled at the offense in his
nephew’s tone.
“Fine. I won’t tell anyone. But you’ve got to prank your father with this.”

“Prank him?”

“When Loki first learnt to turn into an animal, he pranked me in his snake form. I want justice.”
Thor said as he lowered his arm so Harry could touch the floor. The boy grinned up at him.

“I can do that.”

“Then we have a deal, nephew.”

 A Welcoming Feast
Chapter Summary

Loki's back at Hogwarts and already regretting the decision to go as Loki instead of
James. Who knew he'd miss his old professors this much?

Chapter Notes

Ahh! Thanks for the wonderful responses this last week guys! I've been pretty busy
getting ready for a conference I'm going to in december and the emails I get alerting
me to comments really brighten up my day! <3

“Professor Odinson.” Flitwick said.

“Loki, please.”

“Of course, please call me Filius.”

“Excited for the year to begin?” Loki asked the smaller man, who had climbed onto the seat next
to Loki.

The feasting hall looked beautiful, it made Loki’s heart ache with nostalgia and memory. The
floating candles flickered and filled the room with warm light. The enchanted ceiling showed the
wonderous cosmos, the most amazing view Loki had ever known in his long life. The four long
tables were decorated to the nines and everything seemed to be holding its breath for the students’
arrival.

“Oh yes.” Filius said. “It’s always lovely to welcome in the new first years and greet older
students. Although this year is quite a bit…more somber than previous years.”

“Hmm? Oh you’re talking about the Dark Lord.”

“Yes. Yes I am.” He said. “I had hoped we were free of his influence but…well now war has
returned to our doors. I can only hope the students will be safe here.”

“Do you think they wouldn’t be? Albus assured me this castle was well warded.”

“It isn’t the wards. Those are impeccable.” Filius assured him. “It’s their parents. They send their
children forward with missions and expectations and make their children little spies. I notice of
course but I can’t say anything without endangering them you know.”

“Hmm.” Loki agreed, trying not to seem too friendly. Filius had been one of Lily’s favorite
teachers and even Loki had fond memories of the man as James. But Filius didn’t know he’d been
James, he couldn’t know just yet. The only people who knew within the school were Albus and
Severus. Loki hadn’t even told Minerva yet even though he desperately wanted to. “It should be
interesting certainly.”
“Interesting?”

“Oh yes Filius. I am so unfamiliar with this world. This school represents a microcosm of the war.
The light and the dark.” He said using his hand to wave to one side of the room and then to the
other. “What better way to learn what each side truly represents than this? I can’t just take Albus’
word for everything can I?”

“You cannot possibly be suggesting…”

“I am keeping an open mind.” Loki cut him off, not denying the implications. “Giving both sides
an equal chance to sway me. By the end of the school year I suspect I’ll know exactly where my
loyalties should lie.”

“Hmm.” The man said far stiffer than he had been moments before. It was necessary Loki knew
but that didn’t mean he had to like it. Slowly other professors began to amble in. Loki had seen
some of them in passing in the past few days but Albus had kept him very busy. It was clear the old
man was afraid that Loki would begin sewing dissent amongst the faculty.

Tempting, and certainly something he would do in the future.

Tonight would be the first night that Loki would have the power to do whatever he saw as
necessary within the school. First Loki needed to scope out and see how high tensions truly were
between the students. There were rumors within the order about what the Death Eaters would send
their students in to do and Loki needed to know if any of them represented a threat to his son or
their plans.

When the teachers had all settled in, Albus came in carrying the sorting hat and the stool upon
which it sat. Loki quirked up an eyebrow at the sight of the old frayed hat and looked over at
Filius.

“And what exactly is that?”

“It’s the sorting hat. An interesting bit of charm work. The new students wear it and it sorts them
into the proper house.”

“Fascinating.” Loki said. “I do wonder what house I’d be in. Albus told me of them of course and I
find the whole idea quite quaint.”

As Filius took offense to his tone Loki wondered how much longer he would have to wait until he
could see his son. Surely the train had arrived by now? It had only been a day since he’d hugged
his son goodbye and committed fully to the charade they were going to use. Loki couldn’t show his
son affection, had to act like he didn’t know him, that he didn’t like him. Harry would have to act
angry and frustrated with Loki, treat him like a villain. It would hurt, far more than any charade
Loki had ever acted on before, but it was the plan.

“It’s time.” said Albus. “The students are here.”

Sure enough the doors to the Great Hall swung open and students began filtering in following the
Head Boy and Girl. Loki immediately began scanning for a sign of a tall messy haired boy with a
red and gold tie. He spotted Ron and Hermione first, they were walking in together as Prefects but
without their third friend. Loki lifted up an eyebrow in question and Ron gave him a shrug as if to
say ‘I don’t know what to tell you’.

How comforting.
All of the returning students settled down at their respective tables and Loki couldn’t spot his son
anywhere. Fear gripped his heart, had something already happened in the last 24 hours? No. His
son had promised he’d be careful on the train ride over. He’d sworn it. If anything dangerous
happened he was supposed to use the emergency bracelet Loki had enchanted to ask for help.
There had been no signal which meant his son was fine.

Loki just had to convince himself of that.

Before he could spiral into a panic and send a message to Thor to scour the entire train track for his
son, Minerva came in leading the tiny 11-year-olds and right in the thick of the group was his son.
Harry looked delighted, surrounded by children that he towered over by nearly two feet at some
points. Loki had always been incredibly tall and his son had inherited that height, appearing over 6
feet in height now, something that was far more obvious now that he was standing around tiny 11
year olds.

Why was he with the first years?

Harry whispered to the group while pointing up and all of the children immediately listened to him
and gasped in shock at their first sight of the enchanted ceiling.

“Whatever is Potter doing?” Filius asked.

“Trouble looks like.” Loki said, knowingly echoing Snape.

Minerva walked all the way up to the sorting hat while the first years remained congregated around
Harry. Hagrid had also come in with the group and was now making his way to the staff table. The
hat began to sing, a song strangely similar to the ones it had sung in Loki’s youth, warning of the
importance of unity and dangers afoot. How many wars had that hat seen in its lifetime? As the hat
sung, Loki watched as his son lean down slightly to whisper jokes in the first years ears, causing
flurries of nervous giggling. When the hat finished, Minerva unrolled her customary scroll and
began to read.

“When I call your name, you will come forward and be sorted.” She said. “Cassidy Aberle.”

A tiny girl, closer to half his son’s height than anything and with hair the color of the sun,
squeaked just a little sending a ripple of laughter through the students. The girl immediately
blushed bright red. Harry reached out to her and gave her a pat on the back, whispering words that
Loki couldn’t hear but knew the contents of anyway. The girl beamed looking far more confident
and nearly bounced her way up to the hat.

She put the hat on and the hat mused for a few moments before calling out her house.

“RAVENCLAW!”

Traditionally the house that had the new student would cheer while the other houses would politely
clap. If someone was sorted into Gryffindor then of course the Slytherins didn’t even bother to clap
and the Gryffindors returned that favor with vigor. In Loki’s time as a student there had even been
years where the rival houses had booed at newly sorted students. The Ravenclaws immediately
began to cheer for their newest student and to Loki’s utter surprise, Harry cheered along with them.

Based on his son’s volume levels he was pretty sure he’d gotten yelling lessons from his uncle.
Damn the thunderer.

Harry’s excitement was passed onto his gaggle of first years who all cheered for ‘Cass’. The girl
took the hat off and rushed back to the group of students, accepting a high five from Harry before
going over to her new seat at the end of the Ravenclaw table. There were mutters of confusion
throughout the entire great hall as students and faculty alike wondered just what Harry was playing
at. Loki tried to send a questioning look over to his son but Harry pretended not to notice.

Minerva cleared her throat causing silence to descend throughout the school and called out the next
name. Just like with the girl, when this next student, a boy with dark skin and adorable freckles
was called, Harry gave him plenty of encouragement and a gentle push to help him out of the
crowds of students.

At first the different houses just watched as Harry Potter cheered on each first year by name with
equal vigor no matter what house they were sorted into. When the first student was sorted into
Slytherin, the students held their breath. Harry didn’t seem to notice or hesitate as he cheered for
the young boy with brown hair and a slightly crooked nose. The boy looked hesitant still but Harry
offered him a high five and congratulations just like everyone else. The Slytherins looked
downright terrified at the act.

Loki noticed shortly after that that Ron and Hermione were whispering around their house table as
well as to select other students on the Hufflepuff table. Their whispering soon enough encouraged
those two house to start cheering vigorously for every student, following Harry’s lead. Soon
enough the Ravenclaws were persuaded by the Hufflepuffs and the Slytherins joined in last
because they weren’t going to be outdone by any house at all thank you very much.

What was his son up to? Harry hadn’t mentioned this at all in the last few times they’d spoken
about the return to the castle. Loki watched as the excitement and fervor increased with each
student, children were laughing and joking. The newly instated first years were joking with their
fellows between tables, unconcerned with long standing house rivalries. By the time the last student
was sorted, into Gryffindor, Loki hardly recognized the sorting ceremony at all.

Harry gave the last student, Matthew Young, a high five and then led him to the table himself.
Harry’s cheeks were slightly red as his fellow housemates began to interrogate him on what the
hell he’d been thinking. Before Harry could answer anything, Albus got up and stood in front of the
podium.

“Greetings, students.” Albus said.

Loki immediately tuned out the man’s opening speech, far more interested in his son and the
results of his actions. There was a blonde boy that looked distinctly like Lucius glaring at the back
of his son’s head from the Gryffindor table. Was this the ever so famous Draco Malfoy then? Harry
hadn’t spoken of the boy in kind terms, one of the few times Loki had heard his son outwardly
show aggression to someone not actively insulting someone he loved.

Loki tuned back into the headmaster’s ramblings when he insisted everyone ‘eat up!’. With a clap
of his hands the tables were filled with pounds of food. The students cheered and began to dig in,
grabbing at food like wild beasts. Loki reached out for his own food with far more grace, at the
same time he cast a spell that would allow him to listen in on his son and his surroundings.

“Harry. What the hell was that?” Ron demanded. “When you told me you had something planned I
didn’t think it was messing with the First Years.”

“I wasn’t messing with ‘em.” Harry denied his mouth slightly full of food. His son swallowed and
spoke again. “You remember when we first met? How I had to ask for help getting onto 9¾?”

“Yeah?”
“Well I was thinking. How many first years get lost or hurt on the way to the castle? Like Dennis!
Dennis, didn’t you fall in the lake and almost get drowned by the giant squid?”

“It saved me after a little bit.” Another Gryffindor insisted causing a bit of laughter to flow through
the table.

“Right yeah. Except you were dripping wet and shivering through the whole feast after you got
sorted. And Neville, you lost your toad and he almost got hurt on the way in right?”

“Trevor’s better now.” The other sixth year defended. “What’s your point?”

“My point. Is that this school doesn’t do anything to make sure the first years are safe coming in.
They don’t know any magic yet. They can’t defend themselves or help others if something
happens. Hagrid’s there and he’s great but he’s only one man and he can’t do magic either.”

“You went with them to protect them.” One of the other girls at the table said.

“Yeah exactly. If Dumbledore isn’t going to make sure they’re safe, then somebody should.” Harry
said before taking another bite. “So, I hung out with the first years near the back of the train and
rode over with them on the boats again. I explained it all to McGonagall and she let me get away
with it. We won’t lose any house points I promise.”

“Well that’s something at least.” Hermione said making Harry roll his eyes. “And it was very kind
of you.”

“Kind? No. I’m being smart. How many times have a bunch of us almost died since we were too
young to know how to defend ourselves? Hermione you once got petrified!”

Loki could see that there were Hufflepuffs listening in to Harry’s impassioned words as were most
of the Gryffindors. Fascinating.

“Well. Yes.” She said.

“And then there’s been the trolls and the dementors and literally the entire forest we’re surrounded
by. Once you get to our age, we know enough not to die immediately but like…those kids need
help and it’s obvious Dumbledore doesn’t care about them.” Harry said stubbornly.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.” One of the other students insisted.

“How many times have you almost died?” Harry asked them, not unkindly causing the student to
look down at their plate. “I say we do something about it.”

“Like what?” Ron demanded.

“Well. How about we start with a map? For the first years? They don’t know where anything is
and the staircases move. If they get lost, they might get stuck somewhere with a three headed dog
or something. A map can help them find their way.”

“We could also attach the maps to our prefect badges!” Hermione said. “That way if they truly
need help they can call for one of their house prefects and we’d be able to find them based on
where their map is in the school! No more having to ask the portraits for directions or hoping for
one of the ghosts to find them!”

“But we didn’t get a map.” One of the older students complained.

“You should have gotten one.” Harry said. “And we can fix it for all the kids younger than us.
That’s what matters.”

“I guess. But how would we even do that? It’s not like the castle’s ever been mapped in the first
place.”

“Yeah. It has, by my dad.” Harry said. “I found it a few years ago hidden away. He made a map of
the entire school. He used it for pranks, but I bet with a bit of work we can copy the layout and use
it for the first years.”

“Let’s get to work.” Ron said. “Classes start tomorrow so we’ll need to pass them to the other
prefects soon enough.”

It was clear parts of this had been planned. Ron wasn’t the greatest of actors. But the students
didn’t seem to notice. Loki watched as his son used the Marauders Map, the qualities that made the
map truly special (such as the locations of every person in the castle and the secret passageways)
hidden, and began to copy it. Soon enough Hermione got up and called over the prefects from the
Hufflepuff table explaining what they were doing.

A part of the Gryffindor table was cleared away and soon, against all open tradition, there were
Hufflepuff students and a few Ravenclaws sitting at the table, eating together and working on
enchanting the maps for the first years. There was a certain level of familiarity and comradery
amongst the house members.

Loki noticed that Albus was watching the whole scene his eyes twinkling and his mouth slightly
pinched.

“Professor McGonagall.” Loki said looking over at the head of house. “Is that appropriate
behavior? I was told that students sat with their house.”

“Professor Odinson. I can assure there is nothing in the school rules that ban students from
interacting with the other houses.”

“Interesting.” Loki said in a tone that implied he didn’t approve at all. In truth he was trying to hold
back a smirk. Whatever his son was doing he wholeheartedly approved. The students continued to
work for a little longer, then Harry stood up.

“One minute guys.” He said. “We’re forgetting something.”

“Wot?” Ginny Weasley asked.

“The Slytherins.”

“The snakes?” Another Gryffindor demanded. “Why would we care about them?”

“Because they’re people.” Harry said with all the certainty of Lily Evans defending her friendship
with Severus Snape. “And they’re students, kids just like us, they deserve to be safe in the school
too.”

“Oh come on Harry!” Someone said.

“I’m just going to give them enough copies for their first years, that way all the first years have
access to it.”

“You can’t go over there.” A younger student, perhaps 13 or so said. “It’s dangerous.”
“I’ll be fine.” Harry said almost carelessly. “No one’s going to attack me in front of the entire
school.”

And with that, Harry walked away from the safety of his table and made a beeline right towards the
blonde who’d been glaring at him. In his hands he carried the first group of finished maps as if
they hadn’t already been designated for the Gryffindors. Loki and the rest of the faculty watched
with baited breath. With every step Harry took towards the Slytherin table a hush fell over the
school. Everyone knew of Harry and Draco’s rivalry and this was unprecedented. The amount of
potential chaos was brilliant and Loki had to hold back a shiver of delight as Harry stopped right in
front of Draco Malfoy.

“Malfoy.” He said, placing the maps on the free portion of the table that he found.

“Potter.” The Slytherin responded with a sneer. “What are you doing over here?”

“Oh nothing much. Came over to see how the competition is doing you know? I’m finally back on
the Quidditch team again. Should be a good year for it.” Harry said with a grin at the sight of
Malfoy’s face, which was painted with confusion and a bit of outrage at his son’s flippancy.

“Listen Scarhead-”

Harry leaned forward, planting his hands on the Slytherin table so that he was eye level with the
blonde, his green eyes warm and almost amused if Loki had to guess.

“I’m listening.” He said his voice far too friendly, it was the same tone Loki had used once upon a
time and it was very annoying.

“I…You can’t just come over here and…”

“Pretty sure I can. You do it all the time.” His son said. “I missed your yearly visit to me on the
train ride. Can’t I ask after the health of my greatest rival?”

“One would think you’d have far greater rivals to worry about. Or has the man who murdered your
parents already slipped from your empty head?”

“Voldemort.” Harry said making the entire table hiss in pain. “Is my enemy. You are my rival.
Totally different thing. I respect you as much as I dislike you. Voldemort’s just a cowardly
bastard.”

And the offense on their faces? The sheer horror at his son’s tone and words? Loki had to use all of
his skill not to burst into laughter. Malfoy was gaping at Harry like a fish out of water.

“Anyway. Malfoy. The other prefects are at the Gryffindor table working on maps we can give out
to the first years, so no one gets lost or hurt in the castle. With the war going on things are more
dangerous than ever and the first years don’t know any magic to defend themselves yet.”

“And what? You’re offering to share with us out of your kind Gryffindor heart?” He sneered.

“Uh yes.”

“Hah! I’m not an idiot Potter as if I’d trust anything you’d magicked for my house.”

“Oh honestly.” Harry said before reaching into his robe pocket and pulling out his wand. Malfoy
and all of the surrounding Slytherins drew their wands with a flick of their wrist ready to fire at
Harry without hesitation. Harry didn’t seem to notice or care. Instead his incredible son lifted his
wand straight up in the customary fashion that Loki had taught him and spoke very seriously. “I,
Harry James Potter, Heir to the Potter and Black line, swear upon my name and my magic that the
maps I am offering to Draco Lucien Malfoy are exactly what I have claimed them to be and that I
am giving them to him without wanting anything in return. So, mote it be.”

Harry’s holly wand had glowed bright purple and the magic had spread down his hand and arm
until it dissipated in a shower of sparks to show the vow taking hold. Harry shook his hand and put
his wand away, ignoring the gobsmacked looks all of the purebloods were giving him.

“What? I figured that was the easiest way to get you to believe me. Unless you want to rob
Professor Snape’s stores of veritaserum or something.”

“What are you trying to do Potter?” Malfoy demanded.

“I’m trying to offer you something that’ll help you keep the first years safe in a way we never
were.” Harry said firmly. “In our first year Quirrel let a troll into the dungeons and Dumbledore
sent your entire house down there without a care. In our second year there was a basilisk moving
through the plumbing and nothing was done to help students move safely until a dozen kids had
gotten petrified. The dementors in our third year caused more problems than I want to count for the
first years who couldn’t hope to defend themselves against their aura. If Dumbledore and the rest
of the staff aren’t going to do anything to protect us then we have to do it ourselves and it starts
with this.”

Oh Harry.

“So what? You’re Dumbledore’s Golden Boy, Potter.”

“No.” Harry snapped “I stopped being that the moment he let my godfather get murdered right in
front of me.”

And finally, things began clicking in the minds of every Slytherin that was listening in. Loki
watched as every cunning snake at that table began to consider what that meant. A split between
the Savior of the Wizarding World and the Leader of the Light? It was incalculable. His son stood
there before them suddenly a third choice in a war that had always been divided in two. Harry
knew it too.

“You know? That first train ride over when I told you that I could tell the good sort for myself?”
Harry said. “I lied then. But I’ve finally figured it out. And Dumbledore? He’s not on my side, not
anymore. Take the maps or don’t. But they’ll help you protect the kids in your house who need it.
Aren’t Slytherins all about self-preservation?”

Harry pulled himself up so that he was standing to his full height. He gave Malfoy a grin, full of
promise and mischief, of chaos.

“See you on the Pitch, Malfoy.”

Albus Dumbledore’s frown was far sweeter to look at than the desert Loki helped himself to.
 The Oblivious Demi-God
Chapter Summary

Harry thought he was prepared for the fallout of his plan but the students are having a
really weird reaction to him that he can't explain.

Chapter Notes

Ya'll. Please enjoy this chapter. Thank you so much for the support I believe we've
passed 5000 kudos on this work and I am in awe by the response this story has gained!
You all are so amazing!! <3

Harry was prepared for the staring.

How could he not be? For the past five years of his life people had been staring at him. Staring at
his scar. Whispering about him throughout the halls. Staring at articles in the Daily Prophet about
him. In truth people had been staring at him before Hogwarts as well but that was mostly the
pitying kinds of stares that people got when they thought you were a dirty no good troublemaker
who ought to wear nicer clothing.

Still.

Harry had planned on people staring at him.

Ron had even brought it up in the planning phases. As they worked out how they were going to
differentiate themselves from Dumbledore and present to the school, and to the world at large, that
Harry Potter was now his own wizard who wasn’t Dumbledore’s pawn, Ron had mentioned it.
Unlike every other time in the past where Harry had done something and then been blasted by the
public fallout of it, the point of this was to be public. Kids were going to stare. There were going to
be rumors and whispers. That was the whole idea.

Harry had promised his friends that he was ready. Asgard had helped in some ways. Because the
people there stared at him too. Partially because of the fact that he was technically a prince,
partially because Tyr had taken him on as an apprentice, but mostly because of quidditch. Harry
had learnt from, strangely enough, Odin how to deal with staring. His grandfather had seen him
feeling awkward and had pulled him aside and given him his first ‘prince’ lesson.

So yeah.

Harry had planned on the staring.

What he hadn’t seen coming though was the blushing.

Yes. Blushing.

His classmates were blushing when he talked to them. Almost every girl Harry now knew
(Hermione, Ginny and Luna being the thankful exceptions) turned as red as a tomato when Harry
spoke to them. At one point, in Charms, Harry had offered Lavender Brown one of his quills and
she had stammered so much, with her cheeks fire truck red, that she’d spilled her ink jar all over
her desk.

Which was just so weird.

Girls from every house were doing it too. A fourth year Hufflepuff Harry had never met before had
accidentally bumped into him in the hallway and when Harry had offered a hand to help her up she
had started mumbling her words together so badly that he had no idea what she was saying, all
while staring hard at the ground. The tips of her ears had been the color of Ginny’s hair.

It was bewildering.

Even more so because some of the boys were doing it too. Dean and Seamus both had acted so
strangely that first night when Harry had changed out of his school uniform and into his pajamas.
Both boys had been staring at him and then when he’d caught them, they’d blushed and looked
away. Harry knew it wasn’t his scars because he hadn’t gotten any new ones over the summer and
his friends had already seen all of the ones he’d had. And not much else had changed for Harry
since then.

Well obviously, he was taller now thanks to the spell.

But why would being taller make so many people blush?

Ron was tall. He and Harry were near the same height now and Ron didn’t make every girl in the
entire school blush.

Harry had of course considered that perhaps the girls had crushes on him, but he’d thrown that idea
out of the window immediately. After all none of the girls had been crushing on him as a 4th year
when he’d needed to get a date to the Yule Ball. In fact, no one had wanted to go with him at all
and he’d ended up having a horrible time with Parvarti. Who had had an equally terrible time and
hadn’t talked to him for three months because of it. Of course, now she and her sister were staring
at him with slight blushes on their cheeks just like everyone else, so Harry wasn’t even sure what
to make of the situation at all.

The only time Harry had thought perhaps a girl had liked him it had been with Cho last year and
well…every time he thought about his first kiss in Madam Puddifoots he shuddered.

It had been so wet.

So no. The entire school couldn’t be crushing on him. That was madness. Harry had gotten taller
when the spell had ended, and he’d finally stopped slouching all the time. His clothing also fit a bit
better, but he looked the same as he always did, minus the glasses.

Okay. So maybe he’d gotten a bit of an unintentional make-over.

But! It wasn’t enough to explain the blushes. Really it wasn’t.

Harry had gotten used to going to his dad when he faced problems like this. It almost scared him
when he realized how normal that had become. In just one summer his entire…world view had
been put upside down. Never before in his life would he have considered going to an adult with a
problem like this but it had felt so natural to seek out his dad and ask him why everyone was
blushing when he looked at them or spoke to them or touched them in anyway.
But Harry couldn’t ask his dad anything. His dad wasn’t his dad anymore. His dad was Professor
Loki, suspected villain. Harry was supposed to treat the man like he’d treated Snape in the past few
years. Which meant that Harry definitely couldn’t linger after class and wait for the room to empty
and ask his dad if he had noticed anything weird happening with the students. Maybe there was
some sort of spell on him? Or someone had put something in the food.

No. That wasn’t an option.

Harry had spent the very first class of his school year with his dad as the professor. And he had
spent the entire time glaring at the man with all his might. Every time his dad said something that
could hint that he was maybe evil, Harry had twisted his face into a scowl or had scoffed under his
breath. His ‘insolence’ had cost his house 15 points in the first day but Hermione had earned those
back and more in her other classes so no one noticed.

His dad was a good teacher Harry knew. He explained things in a way that made even Crabbe and
Goyle understand and he didn’t assign insane essays like Snape did. Not that Harry knew what
Snape assigned in his NEWT level course. Harry hadn’t gotten an ‘O’ on that and so he hadn’t
qualified to get into the class. Not that Harry was all that upset about not being in potions.

Of course, he’d been told that in order to become an Auror he’d need to get a NEWT in potions but
that was a dream that no longer interested Harry. After all, if he became an Auror he’d have to
work for somebody like Fudge. Sirius had been the one to point out that if he still wanted to be an
auror then the Ministry would be daft to turn him away anyway, he was after all ‘The Chosen
One’. His godfather had said it as a joke, but Harry had known there was a nugget of truth there.

If working with the American Government had taught him anything it was that fame mattered.
Harry had only gotten as far as he did because of his fame. Was that a little upsetting? Yes. But
Harry had dealt with it. (Tony had actually been the most help with that ironically enough. The
man had dragged Harry down to his lab one evening and given him some very helpful ‘how not to
piss off the paparazzi unless you really want to’ tips.)

All of this meant that there was really very little reason for Harry to be upset about his lack of
Potions Class. Harry had also dropped Divination. His grandmother was a seer and his dad had
been very clear that if he wanted to learn more about that stuff then Frigga would be highly
offended if he went elsewhere. Harry had spent very little time with his over-doting grandmother
and he didn’t want to know what she’d be like if he offended her.

So, no potions. No divination.

It had left him with an oddly empty schedule. There was DADA, transfigurations, charms, and
herbology. But those classes only met once a week and two of them met on the same day. The
classes weren’t long either, just an hour and a half. Which meant that Harry had six hours of class a
week. Compared to Hermione’s gargantuan schedule it felt like Harry didn’t have much work to do
at all.

Even Ron was taking more classes than him, his parents had pushed him to take more classes
because it was important for his future.

Harry’s empty schedule of course worked to his benefit. It allowed him to have time once a week
to sneak away to Asgard for training for a few hours in the afternoon. It also gave him time to
practice his own magic in relative privacy. Harry couldn’t just stop practicing wandless and aesir
magic just because the school year had started, so when Ron and Hermione went off to class
together, Harry planned to go up to the Room of Requirement and practice whatever he pleased. Be
it magic or sword work.
Still with all of that, Harry had hours of each day that he could fill with whatever he wanted. Of
course, a more responsible soul would spend that time writing up their homework assignments. But
Harry was never going to be an academic, no matter how much Hermione despaired about it. Harry
preferred to leave his work to the last minute and turn in hurriedly rushed essays that he’d done the
night before.

It had worked for him the last five years and he didn’t see why he should change it now.

This of course led Harry to spending far more time than he should thinking about why girls
blushed when he talked to them and why Dean still wouldn’t look him in the eyes most mornings.
It also led him to interacting with the first years a lot more than originally planned.

It had started simply enough with him helping to pass out maps on the first day of classes. Harry
had gone around with rolls of parchment in his arms and given out maps to every newly minted
student while the school watched, and most girls blushed. Harry had liked talking to the first years,
even if some of them had been a bit over eager. He’d told them the things on the train that he
would have wanted to be told.

Things like ‘I promise you’re going to do just fine’ and ‘No one does their spells right the first
time, you’re supposed to make mistakes’.

But Harry had apparently had more of an influence than expected. Because on Tuesday he was
waylaid by three Hufflepuff first years.

“Uhm! Harry!”

“Oh Hey Sarah, Cassidy, Drew.” Harry said turning to look at the three kids.

“Are you busy?” Drew asked.

Harry had already had his two classes for the day, he’d planned on going up to the 7th floor to
practice some of the new moves Tyr had taught him with the dummies the room could provide but
that could wait till after lunch.

“No. Why? You guys need something?”

“We were wondering. We just had our first class with Professor McGonagall and well…”

“How do you turn a needle into a matchstick? I’ve tried a hundred times and it just won’t do it!”

“None of us can get it. We’ve tried on our own for the past hour.”

“Why don’t you ask your prefects for help?” Harry asked.

“They’re busy.” Cassidy said. “Please can’t you give us some tips or something?”

If Harry had known what saying yes would do he probably would have hesitated more. As it was,
he merely shrugged and motioned for them to follow him. He led them to a nearby empty
classroom and then explained the theory behind transfiguration. His dad had given him so many
lectures over the summer about magic, relating it to things Harry understood. His dad had been
able to untangle the complicated theorems and put them together into something that made sense.

Harry passed that knowledge on, at least enough of it that the first years were able to reorient
themselves and try the spells again. Within 30 minutes all three first years had gleaming needles
instead of match sticks and Harry felt rather satisfied.
“There you go.” Harry said. “Just remember what I told you about transfiguration and you should
be able to do anything McGonagall asks you to do this year.”

Harry didn’t think to ask them not to tell anyone else. Why would he? Instead he had accepted the
grateful hugs the three students had given him and then gone on to get his lunch. It happened again
on Thursday. He didn’t have any classes at all that day and Ron and Hermione did. He’d found
himself quite disoriented at first. This was the first time he and Ron hadn’t had the same exact
schedule.

But before he could get too waylaid, every first year Gryffindor had confronted him in the
common room and begged for help with their charms assignments. Since Harry was painfully
aware of how important a Windgardium Leviosa could be (and wasn’t Flitwick teaching them that
one early this year? Harry could have sworn they didn’t have that lesson until Halloween) he’d
agreed to help them out.

Harry had told them about how Ron had saved their lives by using this spell on a troll’s club which
had made them suitably impressed with how amazing the spell could be and then Harry had
explained more magical theory. Just like his dad had taught him. He left out the stuff about godly
magic though, for obvious reasons.

As it turned out, Harry was actually a good teacher. He’d gotten a taste for it with the DA. But
unlike the DA Harry didn’t have a monstrous headache and Voldemort threatening to possess him
every other minute. So, Harry had spent the next hour helping the first years with their first charm.
By the end of it the entire common room was filled with colorful feathers floating around and
dancing in the air.

One of the first years suggested having a competition to see who could do the spell the best.

Harry, being a fool, thought that sounded fun.

“Alright.” Harry said. “I’ll be the judge. Let’s see who can lift the heaviest thing.”

Three broken chairs, a shattered window, and a lecture from their head of house later, Harry found
himself cleaning up the common room by hand and thinking to himself that he wouldn’t be helping
anymore first years.

Of course, by Saturday things got totally out of hand. A Ravenclaw came to him asking for help
finding her pet snake, a corn snake named Reginald that Harry found napping in the courtyard on a
sun warmed stone. Then a few Slytherins came to him and asked for advice with defense magic.
Harry saw in the corner of his eye Malfoy and the others spying on them and knew he couldn’t say
no, or he’d be a hypocrite. He’d helped students from every other house after all. So, Harry had
taught the first years a few good spells and even let them practice them on him, which resulted in
him being flung around on a grassy hill far more times than Tyr normally threw him during one of
their lessons.

It had been great to see Malfoy looking thunderstruck that Harry was willing to treat the Slytherins
like everyone else.

Anything that stumped Malfoy was worth a few bruises.

Things began to spiral from there and by the middle of the second week of classes Harry had a
gaggle of first and second years that followed him around like ducklings asking for advice and
laughing at everything he said. This of course only exacerbated the problem with the blushing since
when girls saw him helping and laughing with the kids, they blushed even more than they had the
week before.

Harry knew he was in trouble when the students asked for help in potions.

The very idea that Harry could help anyone with that class was frankly laughable.

So, Harry had done what he always did when he ran into a school problem.

He’d gone to Hermione.

“Hermione?” He asked.

“Harry? Where have you been! Ron and I have been in the library for thirty minutes waiting for
you to show up so we could work on our charms essays together. Besides, this is the only place we
can talk about you know what.”

“Yeah. About that.” Harry said. “What do you guys think about restarting the DA?”

“What?” Ron asked. “I thought we decided that the DA wasn’t good anymore since it didn’t have
any snakes in it and it was basically a Dumbledore thing?”

“Right well obviously we’d need a different name.” Harry agreed. “But I dunno, it was good being
able to practice Defense stuff with everybody wasn’t it?”

“Harry.” Hermione said looking at him from over her tower of books. “What’s going on?”

“You know how all the first years have been following me around?”

“Yeah.” Ron laughed. “I told you your little opening feast stunt would backfire.”

“Ron you’re a regular seer.” Harry deadpanned. “One of them asked me for homework help.”

“Oh well that’s not so bad.” Hermione consoled. “You’re actually very good at magic Harry, even
if you don’t do your homework like you should.”

“No Hermione.” Harry whined. “You don’t understand. He asked me for potions help.”

There was a beat of silence and then Harry looked up to see that Hermione had a hand to her mouth
and was clearly trying very hard not to laugh.

“Oh go on.”

Hermione and Ron both burst into gales of laughter, loud enough that Madam Pince shushed them
from across the way. When his friends managed to stop laughing at him, Hermione spoke.

“So, you want to what? Set up the DA as some sort of study group?”

“And why not? We could have meetings in an empty classroom. I bet McGonagall wouldn’t mind
signing off on us using a space. Then any student could come and ask for help and there’d be
someone who could help them. That way the first years never have to rely on me for help with
potions.”

He shivered at the very idea.

“The prefects are supposed to help the new students.” Ron pointed out.
“Yeah but they’re not.” Harry said. “No offense guys but you’re super busy. Hermione’s taking
like ten classes and she doesn’t have time to do all that and help a first year figure out how to make
a pineapple tap dance. Most of the other prefects are in the same spot. Honestly Ron do you think
you have time to set up a tutoring session for any firstie who needs it?”

“No.” He admitted.

“The whole point of this year is to help unify the school.” Harry added. “What better way to do
that then to use the DA. We get a few students from each house who’s good at a certain class, ask
them to give up a couple of hours each week to come and offer help. Spread out the work a bit.”

“You’re only suggesting this cause, you don’t want to be drowned by a bunch of over eager 11 year
olds.” Ron accused.

“It’s a good idea.” Hermione cut in before Harry could defend himself from Ron’s entirely true
accusation. “Neville certainly could help us with herbology. No one is better at that class than him,
not even me.”

And Hermione didn’t sound pleased by her last sentence. Harry and Ron both grinned at her
frustration.

“Okay great.” Harry said. “I’ll start asking around, see who’s open to helping.”

“But Harry?” Ron asked. “Who could you possibly ask to help with potions? Hermione’s the only
one who’s any good at ‘em and she can’t tutor every first year.”

“Yes, I can.”

“Not without a time turner.” Ron muttered.

“She’s not the only one who’s good at them.” Harry sighed. “There’s a couple others who could do
it.”

“Who?” Ron asked while Hermione gave Harry a very pitying look.

“They’d never agree to it.” She warned.

“I’ll make them.” Harry decided. “Phase One of our plan was a complete success. Even the
Slytherins are using the maps we made. Phase Two can be getting this new study group together.”

“Harry, who are you two talking about?” Ron demanded.

“Isn’t is obvious?” Hermione demanded. “Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini are in the top three in
our potions class and that’s not just Snape’s favoritism.”

“Harry no.” Ron begged. “Not the ferret. Anyone but the ferret.”

“There isn’t anyone else.” Harry said. “Snape chases any other student who could be good out of
the class before they learn anything decent and you know it.”

“So what? We just invite a Death Eater in Training to teach the first years?”

“No. We invite another student to help us.” Harry said. “Malfoy might be working for Voldemort
but even he won’t hurt kids. Probably.”

Neither of his friends looked very convinced. Harry sighed.

“I’ll watch him like a hawk. We can even make him sign something like what Hermione had the
DA sign.”

“Well that’s something at least.” Ron grumbled. “Fine. Go see if they’ll agree.”

“Great!” Harry said standing up.

“Harry. Not now.” Hermione said. “You have to write your charms essay! It’s due on Friday!”

“Can’t stop now Hermione!” Harry sang as he got up from the table. “I’ve got some Slytherins to
find!”

Harry held back a laugh as Hermione glared at him and Ron grinned. He felt much lighter in spirits
now that there was a plan in place to keep the first years off his back. He pulled his invisibility
cloak and the marauder’s map from his bag and exited the library unseen. The first years had been
so distracting that Harry had almost forgotten about the mystery of the blushing students. Harry
was very forcibly reminded of it when he found Draco and his cronies hanging out near the lake.

“Oi! Malfoy!” Harry called.

Draco stiffened and turned to look at Harry.

There was a faint but clearly discernable blush on his cheeks.

Now wasn’t that interesting?

 Draco Malfoy's Terrible, Rotten, No Good Summer
Chapter Summary

Draco spends the opening feast glaring at Potter.

If it even was Potter and not some handsome look-a-like.

Chapter Notes

All the ace people in the comments last week who vibed with Oblivious Harry. I want
you to know that I also vibed hard with that, I'm here for the solidarity.

Draco’s first thought upon seeing Harry Potter was simple.

He looks like he had a good summer.

It was an incredibly unwelcome and unusual thought to have.

He had purposefully not tried to find Potter on the train ride over, he’d had more important things
to do. He had expected to see the same skinny, glasses wearing, slouching Potter he always did
entering the Great Hall. Potter always looked like the summers had been hell for him. He came
back skinnier, wearing robes that didn’t fit, and with bags under his eyes. Draco had always made a
note of his ill health with glee.

Of course, Potter was suffering. That’s what happened when you pick the wrong sort.

But when Potter had entered with the first years, he hadn’t looked like Potter at all.

He looks like he had a good summer.

He’d been taller, having grown over a foot in height since the last time Draco had seen him. His
hair had been cut by someone who knew what they were doing. In previous years Draco had
suspected that Potter cut his own hair a few days before returning to Hogwarts which is why it
looked so shaggy and poorly cared for. But Potter’s hair, while still messy, was the sort of stylish
messy that made it clear that it was meant to look that way.

His glasses were gone too. The ugly frames that had been too large for him as a first year and too
small for him as a fifth year were gone. Instead his face was free of any adornment, aside from the
scar on his forehead. His green eyes seemed to glow as he looked around the room and spoke with
the first years. The color of them contrasted well with the healthy tan of his face.

Potter had somehow managed to tan. A feat that had never happened in all the years Draco had
known him. The boy had always been a sickly pale, unlike Draco’s own regal coloring. But now
Potter’s skin was a nice, even golden tan, that only came from work. Either Potter had purposefully
spent time in the sun getting that color or it was a glamor of some sort.

What was the worst out of all of it though was the physique.
Potter’s robes were tailored to fit him and made of a higher quality than what you’d get at Malkins
for the standard price. This tailoring revealed a body that did not belong with Potter. There were
muscular arms and a well defined chest that were obvious even from a distance. Malfoy knew
Potter wasn’t smart enough to pull off a glamor this realistic which left only one possible
conclusion.

He looks like he had a good summer.

Draco had had that thought and had gripped his robes beneath the table so hard he’d nearly torn
them.

Potter looked like he’d had a fantastic summer and Draco hated it. Despised it with every bit of his
soul. How dare he have the gall to stand there looking like that? In what world was that fair? That
Potter had had a good summer and Draco had…

Well.

There was a new sort of weight on his forearm that made it clear exactly what sort of summer he’d
had.

A weight that writhed around, a mass that had been placed there where it could seep into his skin
and attach itself to his very soul.

It had hurt so much, and he had been so…

No.

This was what his father had trained him for. Even if his father was in Azkaban, even if his mother
was locked up as a prisoner in their Manor, Draco was still exactly what he was made to be. He
was proud of the mark. He’d wanted it. Had always wanted it. From the moment he’d seen his
father’s mark when he’d been a young child he’d known what he was destined for. Draco wouldn’t
back down now.

Even if his arm itched with the weight of it sometimes.

Draco had spent the rest of the feast glaring at Potter. Glaring at him for laughing, for high fiving
first years, for eating more food than Weasley. He hadn’t been at his best when the Gryffindor had
waltzed over to their side of the great hall like he owned the place. He’d placed the parchment rolls
of maps of the school onto the table in front of Draco. A trap or a peace offering? He spoke, going
so far as to offer a magical vow to ensure they knew the maps were exactly what he meant them to
be.

“You know? That first train ride over when I told you that I could tell the good sort for myself?”
Harry said. “I lied then. But I’ve finally figured it out. And Dumbledore? He’s not on my side, not
anymore. Take the maps or don’t. But they’ll help you protect the kids in your house who need it.
Aren’t Slytherins all about self-preservation?”

And Potter smiled at him. His eyes literally sparkling with delight.

“See you on the Pitch, Malfoy.”

And just what the hell did that mean?

Potter was like an entirely different person. He sat still in class, excelled at every spell he tried, and
he helped first years regardless of house. The only time the Potter Draco knew made an appearance
was in Defense when the Golden Boy would glare and scoff at the God of Magic like he used to do
with Snape. Other than that it was like a more handsome look-a-like had taken Potter’s place and it
seemed like nobody but Draco had even noticed.

When Draco watched Potter willingly take hexes from first year Slytherins he knew things were
bad.

No one had that good of a summer.

No one.

So, when Potter walked up to him and his friends, aside from Crabbe and Goyle who were in the
greenhouses, while they sat on the lake enjoying the rare warm fall afternoon, Draco had no idea
what to expect. Potter had forgone his robe, wearing instead only his button up shirt and dress
pants. The sleeves on the shirt were rolled up to his elbow and Malfoy could see the leather strap
he had on his forearm to keep his wand attached to his arm.

How obscene.

“Oi! Malfoy!”

“What could you possibly want Potter?” Malfoy demanded, glaring up at the too tall Gryffindor.

“Testy today are we? Is it Flitwick’s essay? Heard that one was a doozy of an assignment. I
haven’t started it, but Hermione seems upset about it so it’s probably brutal.”

Flitwick’s essay was brutal. Just because Potter had gotten house points and extra credit for his
map creation from Flitwick didn’t mean the professor would forgive Potter his poor writing skills.
That wasn’t the point either.

“I’m testy because a half blood fool is bothering me. Go away.”

“Ha. Half-blood.” Potter said grinning down at Malfoy. Instead of going away, the idiot plopped
himself down in front of the Slytherins, leaving himself totally vulnerable to any attack the group
of them wanted to make.

“What are you on about?”

“It’s just, I totally am a half-blood. Never really thought about it before.” Potter said. “Maybe I
should come up with some sort of nickname for it.”

Was Potter daft? Malfoy had just insulted his parentage and the bloody fool was sitting there
grinning to himself. Potter snapped his fingers.

“I know! Professor Snape used to call me Prince Potter all the time. I could be the half-blood
prince! That’s perfect. I’m going to start signing all of my letters with that.”

“You are aware that your blood status is nothing to be proud of correct?” Blaise Zabini broke in,
sounding far too amused.

“You expect me to be ashamed of my mum? The woman who managed to deflect a killing curse
from You-Know-Who for me? You’re crazy.”

“Yes well at least our mothers are alive.” Draco snapped. Potter finally looked at him a bit of his
old fiery spark back into his eyes. Good.
Draco wanted to fight him. A good duel with Potter was exactly what he needed. He had a mission
after all. One given to him by the Dark Lord himself. Draco would not fail, not like his father had.

“Could you chill it with the orphan jokes mate? Get some new material. Making fun of me for
being an orphan was fine when we were 11 but honestly, I expected more from you.”

“Why should I update my material when you’re the exact same orphan you’ve always been?”

“Well not the exact same.” Potter said lifting up an eyebrow. “I got rid of the glasses you know.”

Oh, was that all? Draco glared at him fiercely unwilling to even play his game. Pansy sighed and
sat up.

“Potter, either tell us why you’re here or just go.”

“I’m starting a tutoring group.” Potter said as if that was a normal thing to say. “For the younger
years so that they can come to older students and ask for help with their homework or any spells
they’re struggling with. I know the prefects are supposed to do that stuff but if Hermione’s
workload is any indication they don’t have the time.”

No one had a workload like Granger’s, Malfoy snorted at the very idea.

“And you are telling us this why?” Blaise asked.

“I want your help running it.” Potter said. “I know you and Malfoy are the best potion students in
our year. It makes sense to see if you’re game, since you two are the only two who could possibly
help the younger years with anything. Not like I could do it.”

“Has the Great Potter finally discovered how incompetent he truly is?”

“My potions skills aren’t much of a secret, Malfoy.” Potter said. “Besides I’m good at other
things.”

“Like what?”

“Uhm. Talking to snakes? I’m pretty good at that. Oh! And quidditch.”

“Behold, our Chosen One.” Pansy said snickering.

“The answer, if you couldn’t tell, is-”

“Before you say no Zabini consider this.” Potter interrupted. “Your first and second years are going
to go to this study group. They’d be stupid not to, I already have all the first years begging me for
tutoring and you know it. If you join the group of students I’m pulling together as tutors, then you
can make sure that the Slytherins are treated fairly by the others. This is an opportunity to be right
in the middle of this instead of spying in on it from the outside. Are you really going to say ‘no’ to
that?”

Since when was Potter smart?

“I don’t find the idea of being attacked by your followers very appealing.” Blaise scoffed. “We
know better than to go where we won’t be welcome.”

“No one is going to bother you.” Potter said very seriously. “If they do then they’ll deal with me.
This is going to be a house rivalry free space.”
“Why should we believe you?” Pansy demanded.

Potter rolled his eyes and then spoke.

“How about I tell you a secret? Something to…simplify this?”

“We aren’t your mind healer Potter.” Malfoy snapped.

“I was supposed to be in Slytherin.” Potter said.

What?

What the…

“You’re lying.” Blaise said.

“Am not.” Potter said. “The hat wanted to put me in Slytherin, argued with me about it. I had to
beg it to put me in another house. Swear on my mum’s grave it’s true.”

“Seriously?” Pansy asked.

“Mhmm. Only reason I’m not a snake like the rest of you is because I only knew two things about
Slytherins by that point. Firstly, that the first wizard I’d ever met had told me that Slytherins were
bad news and secondly that the man who murdered my parents was a Slytherin. It was basic self-
preservation to go someplace else. So, I got sorted into Gryffindor.”

“Why are you telling us this?”

“Because this summer when I realized how much Dumbledore was trying to manipulate me I did
some thinking.” Potter said. “And I figured that I’m not so different from you guys. Blood status
aside I guess. I don’t want to play Dumbledore’s games anymore. He wanted me to hate you all, to
think the worst of you for no other reason than where the hat put you and who your parents are.
I’m not doing it anymore. You’re kids just like me.”

“How sweet.” Draco drawled. “Any other little pithy poems you’d like to spout to us?”

“I’m sorry about your dad.” Potter said making Draco stiffen completely. Potter continued. “I’m an
orphan, like you keep pointing out, I know what it’s like to have your parent taken away. It’s not
fun. I mean don’t get me wrong, your dad tried to murder me so I’m not sad he’s in jail, but I know
you cared about him and it’s not fair you have to suffer for his crimes.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about Potter.”

Potter just shrugged, not denying his point. Draco gritted his teeth. He wanted Potter to react, to
fight him, just like they used to. What? Was Draco not good enough for Potter anymore? Well too
bad. It was Draco’s job to figure out who Potter was allied with now and who had been training
him in magic. He was meant to discover what Potter’s true powers were now and where they had
come from. Draco was going to figure it out. He would.

“Are you really splitting with Dumbledore then?” Blaise asked. “That wasn’t just some stunt?”

“Yeah. Yeah I am.” Potter said seriously.

“Fine. I’ll join your stupid tutoring club.” Blaise said.

“Blaise!” Draco said.

“What? He makes a good point.” Blaise said.

“You have to promise to be fair to every student that comes to you for help.” Potter said. “All the
tutors are going to sign something to make sure that no one is treated poorly. You’ll be allowed to
read through it and check it for any untoward spells before you sign, and we’ll all sign the same
thing. Fair’s fair.”

“How Hufflepuff of you.” Pansy sneered.

“They make some good points.” Potter said. “All the houses do, I could learn a lot from your house
too.”

“What could you possibly have to learn from us?” Malfoy demanded finally gaining his voice
back.

“Malfoy. I have a prophecy on my head that says I’m either going to kill You-Know-Who or die
trying. On top of that, Dumbledore is also trying to put me into life threatening danger for his
twisted chess game.” Potter said. “If there was ever a time to learn cunningness, resourcefulness,
and self-preservation it’d be now.”

That made Pansy and Blaise both snort while Draco just glared at Potter. Potter looked right back
at him and sighed for a moment.

“Dumbledore wants us all to believe we have to be enemies. That we have to hate each other. But
that’s just the sort of thinking that let the war get as bad as it is now. And now we have a bunch of
younger students who are going to die if they don’t learn enough magic to defend themselves. I
don’t want any of those kids to get hurt, not like I was, not like we were. I’m choosing to go
against the plans Dumbledore has for me. We all have that choice.”

Potter stood up and shook his legs to get the grass off of his shoes.

“Thanks, Zabini for agreeing to help. I’ll send you a message with all the details. If anything
doesn’t seem fair to you let me know and we’ll revise it. If there are any students in your house
who you think would be willing to help send their names to me and I’ll add them to the pool.”

“You’d take my recommendation?” Zabini asked.

“You know your house better than I do and if they’re willing to sign the same thing I’ll be signing
then I don’t see the problem.” Potter answered. “Just be warned though. Hermione’ll be enchanting
the paper so don’t think you can trick her, should ask Marietta how that worked out for her.”

All three of them shivered at the reminder of the boils that had been on her face for weeks after the
snitching incident. Granger was ruthless when she wanted to be. Potter grinned and turned to leave,
but then he paused.

“Remember, we can all choose who we want to follow. Even if that just ends up being ourselves.”

Obviously, Potter was recruiting. It was so obvious it was painful. And yet Draco could still see
the thoughtful looks in his friends’ eyes. It was the same look that had been spreading through the
Slytherin Common room ever since the opening feast. It was the look that increased each time
Potter was spotted helping a Slytherin first year or casting a difficult spell without breaking a
sweat.

Potter’s power was just as convincing, if not more so, than his kindness for most of them.
And what power it was. There didn’t seem to be a spell Potter couldn’t do. No transfiguration was
too complex, no charm too taxing. Crabbe even claimed that he saw Potter doing wandless magic
in an empty courtyard and Goyle had backed him up much to the astonishment of the house. If
Potter was capable of that then…

It was the same look that kept most Slytherins from writing home. It was the look that caused
whispers late into the night when the darkness of the common room could hide an identity. It was
the look that was rocking the structure of the school, institutions and traditions that had been in
place for generations were being knocked down because of one stubborn Gryffindor. Draco wanted
to scream, wanted to spit at the very idea. How dare his house consider this?

Did they not know their duty?

Potter didn’t. He didn’t know anything. What did he know of loyalty? Of family?

I’m sorry about your dad.

Malfoy clenched his jaw. He stood up roughly.

“Draco.”

“Don’t Blaise.” He snapped. “You made your choice. I don’t need you anyway.”

“It’s not like that!”

Draco wasn’t willing to listen though. He stomped viciously away, ignoring Pansy’s calls and
Blaise’s denials. They were traitors through and through. He’d thought they were his friends, that
they could be trusted. Of course, he’d been foolish to think that. He didn’t need them. He only
needed himself. He could complete his mission, get the information his Lord wanted, and he’d
protect his mother, he’d get his father free. He’d make everything perfect.

He had no other choice.

Draco stalked his way all the way to the other side of the castle. He found himself pacing angrily
back and forth along the cliff’s edge. There was no one there to bother him, no windows for people
to spy from. He was alone and he was furious.

Frightened.

He wasn’t a fool. Draco knew what would happen if he failed. If he betrayed the Dark Lord. His
mother would pay the price. His father too. His entire family rested on his shoulders, they
depended on him. He would not fail. He wouldn’t.

What did Potter even know of choice anyway?

Potter had had his whole life handed to him. People fell at his feet to give him what he wanted.
Only someone like Potter would be arrogant to break an alliance with Dumbledore while fighting a
war against Draco’s Lord. Potter was far too foolish to follow into battle. He would get them
killed, just like he’d gotten his godfather killed.

Draco angrily kicked at a rock, sending it flying off the cliff and into the sea below. He scowled as
he watched its rapid descent. Only two weeks into the school year and he was already feeling the
pressure, the fear. He had to send information soon or all would be lost. His Lord had made that
clear. For every week he failed to produce results his mother would be…
No. Potter was wrong.

There was no choice for him. Not for any of them.

The sun began to set before Draco had calmed down. He had remained outside for hours, skipping
dinner and his afternoon class. Draco would have stayed out for longer, he had in fact planned on
it, but he heard a crunch. He turned to see Potter standing a fair distance away, his wand lit up with
a simple lumos.

“If you take one step closer, I’ll consider it a sign of aggression.”

“You asking for a rematch duel?” Potter asked. “I’m game.”

“What?”

“Been a while since we dueled. You really got me that first time with the snake conjuring.”

“Just go away Potter.” Draco sighed.

Potter didn’t.

Instead the idiot took one more step.

Draco flipped around and fired a high-powered blasting hex right at him. Potter immediately
dropped his lumos spell and brought up a shield. The shield held against Draco’s attack but sent
Potter skidding back along the wet grass. Draco growled and fired another spell at him, which
Potter dodged. He fired again and again and again. Each time Potter either deflected, blocked or
dodged. Even as Draco’s spells got darker, Potter didn’t react beyond trying to move closer to
Draco.

Draco took a step back and kept fighting.

“Fight back!” Draco shouted. “FIGHT BACK YOU COWARD!”

For the entire summer Draco had been fighting. Fighting to protect his mother. Fighting for his
place. Fighting for his family’s honor. Fighting for his life. He’d been fighting a battle he knew he
could not win. Fighting a never-ending war that resulted in torture and nightmares each day.
Fighting a fight that ended with him being marked with something that trapped him in a destiny he
had no choice in.

And now. Now he could finally win. Now he could take down Potter. He could, he knew he could.
But that damn idiot wasn’t fighting back.

Just taking steps closer and closer to him.

Draco stepped back trying to maintain their distance.

His chest was heaving as he fired spell after spell, hex after hex. The grass around them was burnt
and singed from the magic that failed to hit it’s target. He could smell the acrid scent of ozone as
he tried to get Potter to react, to do something.

He fired a cruciatus.

Potter dodged and stepped forward.

He took a step back.

There was no ground beneath him.

His and Potter’s eyes widened at the same time.

He began to fall.

“MALFOY!”

Draco squeezed his eyes shut as gravity began to pull him down to the rocky cliffs below. Then a
powerful force gripped his robe and pulled with inhuman strength. Potter dragged him by his robes
all the way into his arms and then further back away from the cliff’s edge, holding him in a grip
that was far too strong.

“Holy shit.” He said. “That was close. What were you thinking, Malfoy? You could have died.”

“What does it matter?”

“Huh?”

“It doesn’t matter Potter! Nothing does! You’re a fool if you think so. I don’t have a choice.”

“Of course, you do.” Potter said, pulling back. Draco roughly pulled himself away from Potter.

“No, I don’t! He has my mother you idiot!”

Potter froze, he froze so completely it reminded Draco for a moment of the victims of the basilisk.

“Oh.”

“I have my destiny Potter and so do you.” Draco said. “We’ve never had a choice.”

“No, you still have a choice Draco.”

“If you think I’m going to abandon my family then you’re…”

“No. No.” Potter interrupted shaking his head almost violently. “I’m saying we should save them,
your mum I mean. Let’s save your mum.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You say you don’t have a choice because You-Know-Who has your mum. So, let’s free your
mum.” Potter said as if it were simple. “Then you’d have a choice.”

The mark on his arm throbbed a warning as if it knew the direction of his thoughts.

“You’re insane.”

“No, I’m not. Your mum is in Malfoy Manor, right? Let’s go get our brooms and fly over there.
You can get us under the wards, and I can keep us from being noticed.” Potter said, his eyes were
lighting up now with an unholy chaotic light. It was unlike anything Draco had ever seen.

“And…and how would you do that?”

“I’ve learnt a lot of magic over the summer.” Potter promised. “Had a great teacher. I can disguise
us so no one will suspect our true identities. We go in, find your mum, and get her out of there.”

“And then what? Come back here?”

“I’ve made a lot of allies over the summer. There’s a safehouse we can take her too. No strings
attached. You don’t have to join me or any side if you don’t want too. Your mum will still be safe
as long as she doesn’t do something to endanger herself.”

“This…this is crazy.”

And why wasn’t Draco running? Why wasn’t he taking this opportunity to fight again? Why was
he listening?

“Come on Malfoy.” Potter said, holding out a hand, eerily echoing the hand Draco had offered him
years ago. “Make a choice.”
 Harry's Excellent Plan
Chapter Summary

Draco takes Harry's hands and the two boys are off on an adventure.
What could go wrong?

Chapter Notes

Ya'll. The responses last week? Brilliant. Loved every bit of it.
BTW. I'm going to be at a geology conference next week for the full week. I am going
to try and update on time but I don't know if I'll be able too. If there's no regular update
just know it's cause I'm in San Francisco learning about volcanoes. At the very latest
the update will be up on Saturday if it's not up on that Wednesday. Then we'll go back
to our regular schedule!
I'm presenting my work on Tuesday so wish me luck!

Malfoy took his hand.

Harry had actually been shocked by that. He’d thought that the guy would tell him off, maybe even
try to start dueling again.

But no.

He’d taken Harry’s hand and then demanded to know when they were leaving.

“Let me just go get…” Harry began.

“No. We’re not involving anyone else.” Draco said. “I can only sneak one other person beneath the
wards, and I don’t trust any of your friends.”

“I still want to tell them that I-”

“Potter, either we go now, or we don’t go at all. This is your one chance to prove your worth to
me.”

Harry sighed.

“Fine. I’ll meet you in the astronomy tower in 30 minutes.” Harry said. “Do you think you could
get us a couple Death Eater robes?”

Malfoy frowned for a moment before nodding.

“I can get them, but they won’t fit you.”

“Not a problem.” Harry said. “Get the stuff plus whatever else you think you’ll need. We’ll leave
within the hour with our brooms.”
“If this is a trap Potter…”

“Could say the same to you.”

Malfoy scoffed and then began stalking away, as if Harry hadn’t just saved his life and also offered
to save his mum’s life. Harry quickly pulled his invisibility cloak out of his magic pocket and
swung it over his shoulders, he didn’t have long. He snuck back into Gryffindor tower and found
his friends hanging out in a corner of the common room.

“Mate.” Ron said. “What’s going on?”

Harry quickly told them explaining what he’d learnt about Malfoy and what plan (as much as he
had one) he’d come up with and why they couldn’t come. They argued for a bit, longer than Harry
had wanted of course, but eventually they agreed to cover for him.

“If you’re not back in six hours I’m telling your dad.” Hermione declared.

“Thank you.” Harry said. “You guys are brilliant.”

“I only hope this doesn’t go wrong.”

“Don’t worry.” Harry said. “I’ve got a plan.”

Famous last words.

In truth Harry did actually have a plan, or the beginning of one. He knew from the last Order
Meeting that Voldemort was meant to be in America right now. Granted with magic that could
change at any moment, but Harry was rather certain Voldemort would want to stay in America
where his forces were in the most danger. As long as they didn’t cause too much of a scene in
Malfoy Manor then no one would know they’d even been in there until it was far too late.

Harry quickly dressed in his armor and put on his robes, hiding his sword carefully beneath them

(That was a trick Natasha had taught him!)

He carefully transfigured his school robes slightly so that they were now a simple black thing,
closer to a dress than anything. Once he was certain he had all of the supplies he’d need in his
pockets he nodded to himself and grabbed his broom. He flew out of the window and then up and
around the castle to the astronomy tower. Draco arrived from the stairs moments after Harry had
finished sneaking through the window.

“I have two robes and masks.” He said. “We can put them on now.”

“It’s not for me.” Harry said. “One’s for you and one’s for your mum.”

“Then how are you going to disguise yourself?”

“I’ve got a plan.” Harry said. “You just have to get us in there.”

Malfoy narrowed his eyes but nodded. He quickly put on the mask, having already dressed in the
dark menacing robe. He stuffed the other costume into his pocket and then picked up his broom.

“Follow me closely.” He said. “We’ll fly above the cloud line so you better put on a warming
charm.”

“Got it.” Harry said. “How long’s the flight?”

“About two hours.” He answered. “Less if we push it.”

“Let’s push it.” Harry said. “We don’t want to give You-Know-Who any warning time.”

It was odd, Harry thought, how much he trusted Malfoy. In truth the way the boy had spoken about
his mother had…touched Harry. It had struck him deep down. He truly believed that Malfoy
wouldn’t risk his mother’s safety. But if worst came to worst, he had the emergency bracelet he
could use to call for help. But Harry didn’t think it’d be necessary. He really didn’t. Together they
got on their brooms and they took off.

Harry didn’t cast a warming charm and Malfoy didn’t say anything about it.

They went almost straight up into the sky until they managed to break through the thick clouds.
Once they were above the clouds Draco started flying south at high speeds and Harry took off after
him. Both of their brooms had a top cruise speed was about 240 kmph. Of course, if you were a
desperate teenager on a suicide mission to save your mum you might find that it could go a great
deal faster.

It was too fast for either of them to talk to the other. They kept pace with one another and Harry
followed Draco’s instructions given to him via hand motions. Harry used the flight to fully think
through his plan. He’d spent the summer being trained by Tyr in combat, by his dad in magic, and
by the Avengers in strategy. Harry would never be a Ron, Ron was an expert chess player, but he
felt rather confident that he could manage this.

Time seemed to fly by as they flew beneath the moonlight. Draco managed to guide them using
only the stars which Harry thought was a bit show off-y for his tastes. Not everyone could be good
at astronomy after all. But it meant they made good time. When they landed less than two hours
later, it was on the far edge of a massive property. Harry could see the insanely large manor on the
top of the hill.

“Are those peacocks?” Harry hissed jerking his thumb to point at some birds that were wandering
the back lawn.

“Shut it Potter.”

“You keep Peacocks and you kept calling me arrogant?”

Malfoy threw him a glare.

“We have to be quiet. The Dark Lord is the head of the wards in my father’s…absence, he can hear
us.”

“He’s not here.” Harry said. “If he was, I’d feel it in my scar.”

Malfoy narrowed his eyes but nodded.

“Tell me what the plan is.”

Harry took in a deep breath and carefully whispered out his plan. He knew his dad would have
hated it, but his dad hated everything that put him in even a modicum of danger. Malfoy on the
other hand was staring at Harry like he was crazy.

“You’re mad.” He said. “It’ll never work.”

“Not with that attitude.” Harry argued. “I promise I can keep the distraction going long enough.”
“Fine but if you fail, I’m taking my mother and we will abandon you.” He said.

“Understood.” Harry said. “Now, let me get my disguise on. Fix your robes and stash the brooms
in a bush.”

“I’m not going to be able to carry my mother on my broom and keep up speed.”

“She’ll use mine.” Harry said easily.

“A firebolt is hardy better.”

“Don’t worry about that.”

“I can’t believe I’m here with such an idiot.”

“You’re the one who agreed.” Harry shrugged. “Now shut up, I’ve got to concentrate.”

Harry closed his eyes and focused inwardly just like his dad had taught him. He hadn’t told Draco
exactly how he was going to make himself look different but now it was time to reveal at least a
little bit of his new talents. He might not be a good of shapeshifter as his dad, but it didn’t mean he
was incapable. In fact, he had a feeling that this shape would be far easier for him to take than
most. It took a minute for him to shorten himself to the proper height and make sure everything
was right but once it was done, he opened his eyes and looked at Draco.

“Well?” He asked, his voice now deeper than it had been before.

“It’s good.” Draco said staring at Harry with wide eyes. “Since when are you a metamorphagus?”

“Uhm, this summer?”

“Are you asking or telling me?”

“Get us under the wards Malfoy.”

“I hate you.”

“Feeling’s mutual.”

Draco rolled his eyes but carefully connected to the wards. Harry didn’t know much about wards
like these, but he knew from Hermione that most family homes had wards that were connected to
the family that laid them. Which meant that Draco, as the heir to the Malfoy Line, should have a
certain amount of sway with them. Sure, enough Draco after about ten minutes of intense
concentration Draco nodded and stepped forward. Harry followed without hesitation.

He felt the wards overlap him. Harry’s magical sense making it clear that these wards were the
kind that would kill someone who trespassed, he shivered as he waited to pass inspection. It took
less than 10 seconds, but he felt the wards accept him.

“Okay.” Harry said. “Let’s go. Good luck, Malfoy. I’ll be waiting for your signal.”

“Whatever.” Malfoy said. “Just go. I’ll follow.”

Harry nodded and began to stride towards the entrance of Malfoy Manor. As he walked he started
to make himself seem angry, agitated. He channeled all of the anger he held towards Dumbledore
and let the air shimmer with his magic. The whole point was to be noticed. He waved his hand and
used magic to bust open the back doors. The doors were placed on top of a nice porch that looked
like it was made for the Malfoys to sit on in the summer and comment on how ugly their
neighbor’s homes looked like. The double doors were fancy looking with intricate curling metal
designs.

Or at least they had been before Harry broke them.

He stomped his way into what appeared to be a drawing room, or maybe a living room. There
were a few chairs that looked like they were not meant to be seated in, as well as a few small side
tables that looked like they weren’t meant to have things placed on top of them. The walls were
lined with bookshelves and there was a nice fireplace that was currently empty of anything. There
was a Death Eater Harry didn’t know sitting in a chair. The man nearly yelped at the sight of him,
instead he fell to his knees.

“My Lord. You have returned.”

Harry could almost sense the fear the guy was pouring off.

“Who all is here?” Harry hissed, demanded.

“The five of us you left to guard Narcissa.” He answered, shakily still staring hard at the ground.
“We have not abandoned our posts.”

“Bring them here, for every second I’m kept waiting…”

“O…of course! I will call all of them except for the two that are keeping Narcissa in her…”

“I said ALL OF THEM!” Harry said, letting his magic lash out at the Death Eater sending him
fully to the ground.

“Yes, My Lord!” He said. “Right away!”

Harry never thought he’d be grateful for all the terrible visions he’d suffered under for the past
year, but it really made impersonating Voldemort quite simple. Just hiss his words, let his tongue
looked forked, and act like a giant asshole. The Death Eater ran off and Harry stood there watching
him. He looked around the sitting room in interest. It looked very fancy and old. Just by the décor
in the room alone he started to understand just why Draco was Like That.

If this was the place he’d grown up in then it was a miracle he wasn’t worse. The place felt sterile
almost. It lacked everything Harry now knew made a home. Even Asgard’s royal wing had more of
a home-y feel than this place did and Asgard was gilded in gold. Harry took the time to look at the
bookshelves and readjusted his assumption. This wasn’t a sitting room it was a library filled with
creepy grimoires and books that were super illegal. Some of the titles he read made the Restricted
Section at school look tame.

Minutes passed and Harry sighed, clearly the Death Eaters were waiting a few minutes to gather
themselves and hope that their Lord had calmed down some. This didn’t surprise Harry much, in
his visions he’d seen a lot of Voldemort waiting around for his followers to show up. It occurred to
them that Voldemort probably didn’t know why so many of his servants were so slow. Harry hoped
that Draco managed to get to his mum without being seen. The whole point of this was to make
sure no one noticed when his mum escaped.

Harry paused in his perusal of books and looked at the title of one of the books.

Soul Magicks: The Quest for Immortality

Oh.

He swallowed a bit. He knew that after Voldemort’s first defeat, Draco’s dad had been left to guard
over a lot of Voldemort’s stuff, including that creepy diary. Would it be unreasonable to assume
that Malfoy would also have kept some of Voldemort’s books? He and his dad had made very little
headway at all on the soul magic front, this was the first book Harry had ever even seen on the
topic. Besides that, maybe this could give them clues on how Voldemort had survived this long.
Harry carefully reached out and paused. What if it was hexed? He extended out his magic sense
and found nothing. He picked up the book and then slipped it into his pocket.

He spent the next few seconds rearranging the books so that it was no longer obvious that there
was one book missing. He probably would have continued to mess with it if he hadn’t heard the
creek. He turned to see a large green snake with a head about as thick as Harry’s thigh slither into
the room.

It took everything within him not to stiffen.

You’ve returned my Lord. I have missed you.

Harry swallowed. He’d forgotten about the snake. The damn snake! It was too late now. He just
had to see if he could trick her.

What a wasted trip it was. These Americans must be crushed.

Yes…we will crush them. But first, your other servants are cowering in the kitchens would you like
me to scare them into entering or would you like to let them suffer a bit longer? Nagini hissed back
as she got close to Harry, she flicked out her tongue and then stiffened completely. You are not My
Lord, My Beloved.

What nonsense are you spouting you wretch?

You look like him and you speak like him but you are not him. The snake insisted. It lifted itself up
so that it was eye level with Harry and lunged at him, fangs bared. Harry yelped and ducked to the
side barely dodging her sharp fangs.

Harry knew he’d been had. The snake began to hiss some very violent and quite frightening threats
about eating him and leaving only his head for Voldemort to have for when her true master
returned. Her fangs glistened with venom and malice and she had no problem using her girth and
strength to try and trap Harry. Within a minute Harry found himself being tripped up, fighting in a
body shape he wasn’t used to made him incredibly clumsy.

Nagini reared up and prepared to sink her fangs right into his neck.

Lokison you have a sword! Use it!

Tyr’s voice rang through his ears, a terrible reminder of all the times Tyr had beat him into the dirt
for not fighting back. Before he quite realized it, Harry had summoned his sword to his hand in a
flash of purple light and blocked Nagini’s fangs inches from his body. He didn’t hesitate to push
Nagini off of him sending the snake flying backwards. He jumped up and focused, he had a sword.
He was going to use it.

Nagini used her club like tail to swipe at his legs and Harry jumped out of the way, slicing down as
he went, the tip of his blade scratched along her diamond hard scales leaving a nick in them. Once
he was on solid ground again Nagini swiped forward trying to take a bite of his mid-section. Harry
used the broad side of his sword like a shield to block her head and send her snout towards the
ground hard with a downward swing. Nagini’s face slammed into the floor with enough force to
daze her.

Harry didn’t hesitate and used this distraction to his advantage. Before Nagini could snap at his feet
he swung down again and chopped her head right off. A huge spray of blood went right up his
robes and the snake’s hold body convulsed violently with death, overturning a chair and smashing
up a tiny table.

“I killed his snake.” Harry hissed.

That was bad. Super bad. The whole point was to make sure no one noticed that Harry and Malfoy
had even been there. People were definitely going to notice the dead snake. Oh Odin what did he
do? He searched around the room desperate for some sort of inspiration, he didn’t have long until
the Death Eaters came in and the last thing, he needed was to be caught hiding the body.

His eyes landed on the fireplace and he looked down at the large snake corpse.

Beggars can’t be choosers.

Harry hefted up the giant snake corpse and carried it over to the fireplace. The snake was too large
to fit in as one piece, forcing Harry to enlarge the fireplace to a ridiculous degree. There weren’t
any logs in the fireplace to start a fire from.

“What’s the spell again? Oh come on. Dad taught it to me like three weeks ago. Come on Harry.”

He remembered it with a quiet shout and quickly cast the Asgardian fire spell, a powerful spell that
could burn through most anything. His dad had likened it to Fiendfyre except it was far less likely
to run out of your control. Once the magical fire was blazing hot Harry dumped the snake corpse
into it and began to gag at the smell. He hopped away and waved a hand to try and clear the air of
the stench.

Oh, this was so bad. So very very bad.

The fire ate through the snake within seconds and left nothing behind but a pile of ash. Before
Harry could douse the flames he heard footsteps nearing.

The Death Eaters.

Harry barely held back a yelp of alarm. He’d forgotten about the bloody sword and the decapitated
head. There was no time. Harry jumped so that his feet were on either side of the snake head, his
robes covering the head and the sword hidden behind him. With a flick of his wrist he turned the
fire off a second before the door opened to reveal five Death Eaters, the only one Harry recognized
by name was Wormtail.

He didn’t have to hold back the growl he wanted to release at the sight of the man. The five Death
Eaters stepped inside, looking at the large blood stain on the floor and sniffing the air at the
terrible, awful stench.

“My Lord.” Wormtail said tremulously. “Are you injured?”

“You would dare imply that I would be hurt?” Harry hissed. “You fool!”

“No. No Never my Lord. You are far greater than any of your foes.”

Harry narrowed his red eyes but didn’t move to attack Wormtail. The man continued to monologue
about his greatness and power sounding more frantic with each word. His groveling distracted the
Death Eaters from the blood stain that was slowly growing around his feet.

“QUIET YOU SLOBBERING FOOL.” Harry cut off making Peter make a sharp pained noise.
“Tell me what you have done. Have there been any messages from Lucius’ spawn, what of his
whore?”

One by one each Death Eater detailed what they’d done since their last meeting with their Lord.
The entire time Harry was moments away from freaking out. How long does it take Malfoy for to
get his mum out of the house? Come on, where they taking the scenic route?

It took three reports, all of which were basically the same, before Harry saw the signal. A sparkle
of lights in the distance near where they’d hidden the brooms. Great. Now he only had to figure out
how to get the Death Eaters out. He rudely interrupted Wormtail’s descriptions of his dark deeds.

He thought about the blood that was staining the bottom of his robes.

“You tire me, Wormtail. Where is my beloved Nagini?”

“I…I do not know my Lord.”

“You don’t know?” Harry hissed.

“Perhaps she is…out hunting?”

“Find her you idiot.” Harry said lifting his wand to wave it menacingly. The Death Eaters cower
away and bowed, insisting they’d bring Nagini to him right away.

“Quickly then. I do not wish to be kept waiting.”

And then he was alone. Harry nearly collapsed in relief. He didn’t have the time though. He
quickly grabbed his sword and lifted up his robes so that he could replace it into his scabbard.
From there he picked up the snake head and quickly burnt it in the fireplace. He shrunk it down to
size, thankful that no one had questioned why it was so large. From there it was the work of
moments to fix the table that had been broken and put the chair back into place.

There.

Now it was time to escape.

Harry looked out the still broken door and sighed in relief, there were no Death Eaters in sight. He
sprinted off the porch and across the ridiculously large back yard, hopping over sleeping peacocks
on his way to the exit. In the distance he saw Draco and another person in full Death Eater garb.
Draco had his mask removed.

“What happened to you?” He asked. “You smell like a sewer Potter.”

Harry rolled his eyes which must have looked very strange with his current face.

“I had a run in with the snake.”

“The snake.” He gasped. “I forgot…how are you alive?”

“Luck.” Harry said. “Now come on. We need to leave now, the Death Eaters won’t be distracted
for long.”
“We still only have two brooms Potter.”

“I told you. Your mum can use mine.” Harry said.

“Mr. Potter.” She said, sounding strained. “You have done something I believed impossible.”

“Huh?”

“You saved my son.” She said. “He would have failed in his mission and he would have been killed
to punish my husband.”

“Oh.” Harry said. “Well, I…I only wanted to do the right thing.”

“I am in your debt, our whole family is.” She said firmly. “Is that not right Draco?”

“Yes Mother.” Draco said sounding like he’d just swallowed nails.

“Right. Well, let’s save that for once we’re safe.” Harry said. “Take my broom, ma’am. Draco,
please lead us back to Hogwarts. My safe house is about 20 miles away from there so we can get
there if we just go back the way we came. I hope you don’t mind if we share.”

“My broom still can’t handle the weight of two Potter.”

“Can you just do what I say?”

“Only if you stop being stupid. But that doesn’t seem likely.”

“Did you get that comeback out of a kid’s book?”

“I’ll show you kid’s book you half-”

“Draco.”

Draco stopped mid insult looking far too embarrassed at having been chastised by his mother.

“Let’s just go.” He said. “Although how you expect us to get back by morning with two people on
a broom…”

“I won’t be a person.” Harry said. “I learnt the animagus transformation over the summer.”

“You what?”

Harry heard voices in the distance, near the porch.

“Questions later, running now.”

Which was how Harry found himself perched on the ends of Draco’s broom, holding onto the
wood with dear life. He hadn’t actually learnt how to fly with any success yet but he let Draco
assume it was because a raven couldn’t fly nearly as fast as a broom. They escaped under the cover
of night, leaving the entire Malfoy Manor unaware of what had just occurred.

All in all, Harry thought it was a plan well done.

 Draco's 'Choice'
Chapter Summary

Potter has led Draco and his mother to a house owned by a mysterious wizard named
'Tony' whom he apparently lived with during the summer. (Was he the one who taught
Potter all that magic?) The house is controlled by an invisible servant that Potter insists
is not a house elf. Things only get weirder from there.

Chapter Notes

Guess who is posting on the right day (and early even!) The conference is going
amazingly. My presentation yesterday went perfect and I had a wonderful time talking
about science with other science nerds! My feet do hurt from standing by my poster
for two and a half hours straight!
Enjoy the update!

“Well.” Potter said. “Here it is.”

Malfoy looked up at the house. Potter hadn’t lied when he said there was a safe house close to
Hogwarts. It had taken very long to get there from Hogwarts, they’d landed on the front lawn of a
large home. It was an older home but well maintained, not nearly as nice as his manor but it would
do.

“Who does this home belong to?” His mother asked, taking off her death eater mask.

“My friend Tony. I stayed with him over the summer, well at least part of it.” She said. “I’m going
to give him a call once we’re inside.”

“They don’t know I’m coming?” She asked.

“Uhm. No?” Potter said looking at her in concern. He was glad that Potter had stopped looking like
the Dark Lord because Draco was pretty sure he would not have been able to handle the Dark Lord
looking genuinely concerned about anything. “Don’t worry. It’ll be fine. Tony won’t mind.”

“I am a Death Eater child, and any friend of yours is not likely to be a friend to me.” She pointed
out.

“Are you going to try and hurt anyone? Or send information back to You-Know-Who?” He asked.

“I would never disgrace myself in such a way as to dishonor a magical debt.” She sniffed.

“Well then it’s fine.” Harry said easily as if all of his family’s crimes could be wiped away with
nothing but a wave of his hand. “Come on. It’s late and if I don’t get back to Hogwarts in like…15
minutes Ron and Hermione are going to sound the alarm and assume I’ve been kidnapped or
something.”
“You told them?” Draco demanded causing Harry to give him a look.

“We were going to your house, the house You-Know-Who lives in. Not telling someone where we
were going would have been stupid.”

As if Potter’s plan already hadn’t been the height of idiocy. Potter rolled his eyes and then started
walking up to the front door. His mother gave him a look behind Potter’s back warning him to be
polite and they followed him. Potter seemed to be talking to a strange metal box.

“Yes, Jarvis I know I’m not at school, it’s an emergency please open up.”

“I have to ask for a password, Mr. Potter.” A voice responded back.

“It’s Purple Flame.”

“Very good sir.” The voice said before the door clicked and then swung open on its well-oiled
hinges. Draco expected to see someone else on the other side but there was no one there. He
frowned, that voice hadn’t sounded like a house elf. Not grovel-y enough.

Harry walked in, motioning for them to follow. His mother carefully put Potter’s broom up against
the entry way closet and Draco followed suit.

“Is there a place I could put my things?” His mother asked.

“Your things?” He asked. “You packed stuff?”

Draco remembered vividly trying to hurry his mother along as he used his own wand to magic as
many things as they could into her trunk before things went wrong. Potter looked baffled by the
very idea.

“There are family heirlooms I could not bare to part with.” She defended. Draco prepared himself
to defend his mother, to keep Potter from besmirching her honor.

Preparations that were for nothing it seemed.

“Of course.” He said immediately, his confusion vanishing as if it had never been. “I wish I could
have done the same after my parents…well no one thought to pack up their things after it all
happened. Jarvis?”

“Yes Mr. Potter?”

“Where is the largest guest room?”

“It is on the second floor, the first door on the left.”

“Great. Please make sure any visitors to the house know that Mrs. Malfoy is going to be staying
there for now.” He said. “Mrs. Malfoy, if you’d give me your things, I can take them up there.”

His mother reached into the pocket of the death eater robe she was wearing and after a moment of
hesitation removed a shrunk trunk. She placed it on the floor and unshrunk it to its full size. The
trunk had the same length as the width of a queen bed. It was large and ostentatious made of an
ornate dark oak with carved peacocks and the Malfoy crest on the center lock. It had been
enchanted to be incredibly heavy for anyone that was not a family member.

“I’m afraid that it might be best if my son…” His mother trailed off as Potter knelt down and then
picked up the trunk like it was nothing. “How are you lifting that?”
“It’s a bit heavy but I had a growth spurt over the summer.” Harry said, easily. “I’ll be back in just
a tick.”

And Potter carried the trunk away, walking as if he wasn’t loaded down with over 500 pounds of
weight. When Potter disappeared, his mother turned to him.

“I don’t know.” Draco said. “Potter’s been weird for the whole year. Crabbe and Goyle saw him do
wandless magic and no one just becomes a metamorphagus and an animagus over the summer.”

“That was not my question Draco.” She said. “The boy is far more polite than you’ve painted him
to be.”

Draco immediately started to roll his eyes, but his mother’s steely glare stopped him.

“That’s what I mean by weird. It’s like someone spelled him a new personality over the summer.”

“Hmm.” She said. “Then that is to our fortune.”

“Mother.”

“Draco Lucien Malfoy, you will do what is best for your family.” She said. “We owe Mr. Potter a
debt and he will be our guide to salvation from the trouble your father put us in. I won’t have any
arguments about it.”

“But he’s Potter.”

“Exactly.”

“He’s a half blood and he doesn’t know anything about our ways.”

“Which is exactly what you are going to offer him. Never let it be said that the Malfoy’s are an
unworthy alliance. The boy has no experience with pureblood society and politics, you do. Offer to
be his advisor, work with him, be his ally. And when he inevitably defeats the Dark Lord, our
name will be cleared.”

“There is no way that I would ever-”

“Draco.”

He cringed a little at her tone. Turns out Potter was still wrong, he didn’t have a choice no matter
what he did. Somehow, seeing her safe and sound next to him made Draco feel a little less bitter
about that fact than he should have. They both stopped talking when they heard Potter return.

“Mrs. Malfoy?” Potter said. “Are you hungry or thirsty? I can get you something while Jarvis
sends a message to Tony and the others to let them know you’re here.”

“That would be incredibly kind of you.” She said sweetly. “A good tea would delightful.”

“Sure.” He said. “Follow me.”

Draco wasn’t pleased by his mother’s total willingness to betray his father and everything their
family stood for. He tried to make that clear with a few pointed looks that his mother ignored with
expert skill. They followed behind Potter having an entire silent conversation as he led them
through the wooden and stone hallways to the kitchen. He asked them to take a seat at the sturdy
wood table while he made the tea.
“While you make the tea?” Malfoy asked. “Don’t you have a house elf to do it for you?”

“If my parents had a house elf then I never knew about them.” Potter answered. “And I grew up in
a muggle house so I wouldn’t have had one either.”

How mundane. Draco sneered at the dirtiness of it all, but Potter didn’t seem bothered. He just
walked over to the kitchen with every bit of confidence that he lacked in the potions lab and made
tea for all three of them. It didn’t take long and soon Potter was pouring tea into three cups and
serving each of them as if this were something that he did every day. He also helpfully provided a
plate of biscuits. This didn’t surprise Draco, of course Potter had the skills of a servant.

“Mr. Potter.” The strange voice said out of nowhere. “Mr. Stark wishes to know why you have
brought two unknown magic users into the house.”

“Mrs. Malfoy needs a place to stay.” Potter said. “Her son and I helped her get out of a bad
situation.”

“Malfoy?” The voice questioned. “Is this the same Malfoy that you mentioned being a head Death
Eater?”

“That’s her husband. He’s in jail.”

“Quite.”

Draco shifted uncomfortably in his seat. His mother took a calm sip of tea and then spoke.

“If you do not have a house elf then who is that voice?”

“That’s Jarvis, he’s an Artificial Intelligence. Hermione understands it better than I do, but
basically it means Tony made his brain. He doesn’t have a body like you or I do, but he does have
thoughts and feelings. He knows practically everything too. He’s connected to this house and the
one Tony is living in right now so he can talk to both of us at the same time.”

Draco had to keep himself from gaping at Potter. Artificial Magical Intelligences were meant to be
impossible.

“I see.” She said. “This Tony of yours must be a grand wizard to produce such a creation.”

“Tony’s a muggle.” Potter said. “He made Jarvis without a bit of magic.”

“Indeed, although I am sure my creator will be pleased to know you believed it to be magic. He has
long argued that magic and muggle science are the same thing.” Jarvis said making Draco scoff.
His mother gave him a look at that warning him to be polite again.

“Well, that is…fascinating.” She said. “I haven’t yet met a muggle. Will this Tony be staying
here?”

“Not often. He bought this house, so he’d have access to Hermione while she was at school. Over
the summer she and he got along great. They’re both geniuses you know, and they experimented
all the time. He and the others might come through when they want to visit but for the most part,
you’ll be here by yourself. Is that okay? I don’t want you to be lonely.”

“I will manage.” She answered sounding very relieved to know she wasn’t going to be sharing a
home with muggles.
“Mr. Potter. The team is on it’s way and they want an actual explanation for your actions.”

Potter sighed and muttered something about wishing just once that people would just trust him.

“Muggle transportation takes some time doesn’t it?” Draco asked. “You have time.”

“No, I don’t. Professor Lupin enchanted one of the doors so that it connects to the other house.
They’ll be here-”

“HARRY!” A voice boomed loudly.

“Right now.”

Draco and his mother both stiffened and turned to the doorway. The last thing Draco expected to
see was Thor, the god of thunder, bursting into the room with his famed hammer aloft. He failed to
hold back his gaping as the god made a bee line for Potter and pulled him into a back breaking hug.

“I’ve missed you!”

“It’s only been a couple weeks!”

“It’s been far too long!” Thor argued before pulling back to look at Draco and his mother
suspiciously. More and more people filtered into the room. The Avengers. Even Draco knew who
those people were. He might not care about them but the world had done nothing but talk about
them after they had stopped the god of magic.

“You went to the Avengers?” Draco demanded looking at Potter.

“Not intentionally.” Potter admitted. “Hey guys, this is Draco Malfoy and his mum Narcissa
Malfoy.”

“Kid.” Tony Stark said. “What are you doing? It’s like 3 in the morning here.”

“I’m having tea.”

“Mr. Stark.” His mother said. “I beg for your patience, Mr. Potter has done my family and myself a
great service tonight but I am in need of a haven because of it.”

“What happened?” Captain America asked.

“Malfoy told me that You-Know-Who had his mum captive.” Harry said. “It wasn’t hard to guess
what he was going to do to her so…we decided to go save her.”

“Isn’t she married to like You-Know-Who’s second in command?” Hawkeye asked, suspicion in
every syllable.

Potter narrowed his eyes and put his tea down onto the table with a decisive clack.

“No one deserves to be tortured, especially not like that.” He argued. “He was keeping her captive
to force Draco into doing his will, he was forcing a kid my age to be his spy at the threat of his
mum’s murder. That’s not right.”

Having it said so plainly made Draco flinch a little. This didn’t go unnoticed by many of the adults
in the room. Thor placed a hand on Potter’s shoulder.

“Of course, it’s not right.” He said. “But rescuing her must have been dangerous, does he know you
left the safety of the castle?”

At that Potter actually looked a bit hesitant. He shifted awkwardly in his chair and twiddled his
thumbs together.

“Not…exactly?”

“Either he does, or he doesn’t.” Black Widow pointed out.

“If I’d told him what I planned he would’ve flipped out and wrapped me in bubble wrap!” Potter
defended. “Besides nothing even happened.”

“You’re covered in blood.” Black Widow pointed out.

“Not my blood.”

“That’s it.” Thor said. “We have to call him.”

“No, we don’t. He never needs to know about this. It’d just stress him out!”

“Who are you talking about?” His mother asked in concern.

“Harry’s father of course.” Thor said. “He’ll be displeased to know Harry put himself into danger.”

“James Potter is dead.” Narcissa said.

“That’s what you thought about Peter Pettigrew.” Potter pointed out.

And that?

That was just too much. Draco felt as if the rug had been pulled out from under his feet far too
many times in the past 6 hours and he was quite done with it.

“Potter.” Malfoy said looking at the handsome version of his greatest rival. “What the fuck?”

“Draco!” His mother chastised while Potter threw his back and laughed. Draco didn’t apologize
because Potter got himself under control.

“Since your mum said you guys have a debt to me you have to promise not to tell anyone.” He
ordered. “But if you promise, I’ll answer you’re carefully worded question Malfoy.”

His mother glared at him and Draco promised, Potter grinned.

“My name is Haraldr.” He said. “That’s the real name my parents gave me when I was born. The
full thing is Haraldr Lokison.”

“What.”

“This is my uncle Thor.” Harry said patting Thor’s gigantic arm. The blonde god was grinning
proudly down. “I spent part of my summer with him and my grandparents, All-Father Odin and
All-Mother Frigga, in Asgard.”

No. No. Please anything but this. Draco wouldn’t be able to deny his mother’s plan any longer if
Potter was being serious. Please let this be a joke. Draco didn’t want to deal with it being the truth.

“You know? The reason that I laughed when you called me a half blood earlier is simple.” Potter
continued. “You don’t get more half blood than a demi-god.”

“I hope you’re eaten by a werewolf.” Malfoy spat.

“Don’t think they can bite through my demi-god skin Malfoy.”

Draco made a very rude noise in response.

Potter grinned at him looking completely unrepentant. Draco was quite sure he’d never hated
anyone more in his life.

“You fight with Professor Loki every day.” He pointed out. “You expect me to believe he’s your
father?”

“It’s called acting.” Potter sniffed. “We don’t want Old Voldie to know the truth until it’s too late
for him to counter it. Dad and I look exactly alike if I was even sort of friendly with him in public
people’d put it together.”

“Speaking of.” Captain America said. “We need to call him. I know you think you can trust these
two but I’m not comfortable offering them safety until your dad has okayed it.”

“I’m on it.” Tony Stark said. “Sent him a message on his phone. He should be here soon.”

“This really isn’t necessary.” Potter began.

“Why are you so against having him here?” Thor asked.

“Well…it might have just occurred to me that when I broke curfew and left the protection of the
castle to break into one of the Dark Lord’s strong holds without telling dad that that might have
been…not wrong exactly but something that won’t make dad very happy.” Harry said taking a sip
of his tea. “Do you think he’s going to ground me? I’ve never been grounded before.”

“Why didn’t you just tell him what you were doing?” Thor asked.

“Malfoy said no to telling other people.”

“Do not pull me into this.” Draco said.

“You’re in it.” Potter told him.

“It was your plan!”

“It was your mum.”

Draco reddened at that preparing to argue further with Potter on the point. Of course, before he
could a plume of green flame appeared in the middle of the kitchen. Draco flinched back towards
his mother. Professor Loki was not the kind of person you wanted to be on the bad side of. His
mother lifted up a hand to wrap her arm around him protectively.

Loki appeared in the plume. His mother gasped, holding a hand over her mouth.

“Hello ‘Cissa.” Loki said before turning to his son. “Harry James Potter, what did you do?”

“It was Draco’s idea.”

“Oh please.” Loki said. “As if Lucius’ son would have the courage and drive to actually do
something like this.”

And that made Draco turn all of his offense onto the god of mischief. He glared up at the god.

“I have spent the past six hours being dragged across the countryside by your son who had the
stupidest plan I have ever heard just so that I might have a chance to protect my mother.” Draco
said. “How dare you imply I would abandon my family.”

“Is a plan really stupid if it works?” Potter asked.

“If it’s yours then yes.” Draco snapped. Loki smirked at him.

“Thank you, Mr. Malfoy for giving me a straight answer. Harry, my child, please tell me what you
did to this poor boy. He looks like he’s going to croak.”

Draco blinked and fell back into his chair. Loki had just tricked him.

“I…road my broom to Malfoy Manor, then I impersonated You-Know-Who so that All of the
Death Eaters would be distracted by me.”

“What.” Loki said.

“You know, you taught me how to shapeshift.” Potter said awkwardly. “And I know what Tom
looks like. From all the visions I’ve had I know how he talks and walks and…well the only thing I
forgot was to make myself smell like him.”

Loki pinched the bridge of his nose.

“So, your grand plan was to impersonate the only person who wants you dead.”

“Yes?”

“And that worked?”

“We got his mum out and no suspected anything while we were there.”

Loki swayed a little and then snapped his fingers, conjuring a chair. He fell into it with all the
drama expected of the god of magic.

“You. Impersonated. The Dark Lord.” He said.

“I um…also killed his snake?” Potter offered.

“Ha.”

“You didn’t say you killed Nagini.” Draco said. “How did you do that? The Dark Lord placed
hundreds of protection spells on her. No spell could get through.”

“Didn’t use a spell. I had a sword.”

“Hid it beneath the robe just like I taught you right?” The Black Widow asked sounding smug.
Potter nodded readily.

“I can’t believe this.” Loki said. “I cannot believe you would do something so monumentally
reckless. Malfoy Manor is one of his most well warded strong holds, you could have been found
out at any moment! And the one person you brought for back up spends 80% of his waking hours
glaring at the back of your head!”

It wasn’t 80%. Couldn’t be.

“Dad.”

“No. Harry no.” Loki said. “You cannot just do that. Your life has so much meaning and you can’t
just throw it away for any sob story that comes your way.”

“A human being isn’t a sob story.” Potter cut in. “And I wasn’t throwing my life away. I was
helping someone who needed it.”

“You were helped Narcissa Malfoy!” Loki shouted. “Do you know what sort of woman she is? I
do! I grew up with her. She is not some innocent little flower, Harry. She may not have the Dark
Mark but that is not for a lack of belief. And you just…did the stupidest thing possible without
telling me for her?”

Draco opened his mouth to defend his mother’s honor but she placed a hand on his warning him to
keep quiet. Potter’s cheeks were reddening in a way that Draco knew from personal experience
meant he was about to blow his top. Loki continued his rant.

“You have to think these things through. What if you had been caught? What if you had been
injured? Do you really believe either of them would have come back for you?”

And now Draco knew why his mother had warned him to silence. Because he doubted very much
that he would have come back for Potter. Potter colored further and finally snapped.

“What’s the point of all this then?” Potter demanded. “I’m supposed to save the world why are you
getting after me for doing it?”

“That’s not…”

“Dad. The world is made up of people like Mrs. Malfoy.” Potter said, his green eyes ablaze. “If I
don’t save them then I can’t save the world.”

His mother took in a sharp breath, and Draco turned to see something misty in her eyes. Loki
glanced at her and then at his son, he sighed a bit.

“You cannot take risks like this Harry, you can’t.” Loki said. “We’ve just found each other again.”

It felt like an incredibly private conversation. The kind of conversation Draco normally loved
listening in on. But this was different somehow.

“I’m sorry dad.” Potter said. “Really. But it was his mum.”

And that made all of the fight drain out of Loki. He sighed even deeper and gave his son a fond
look. A far fonder look than Draco could ever remember his own father giving him.

“I am still incredibly upset.”

“Right.”

“But we’ll finish this later.” Loki said. “For now. Narcissa, I believe you know what I need from
you. A vow of secrecy and you can have protection.”

“Of course.” She said. “Do you prefer to be called…”

“You can call me James.” He said. “It’s by far my favorite name I’ve ever gone by.”

“Very well then.” She said. “A vow of secrecy and my thanks. My family is in a great debt to
you.”

His mother squeezed his arm reminding him quite clearly what she expected him to do about that.
He looked over at Potter who was looking at him, an eyebrow lifted. Draco sighed.

“Fine Potter. I’ll join your stupid club.”

 Loki Gets Caught
Chapter Summary

Grading was truly torture. Loki didn't think this through when he'd come up with the
idea to teach. He did not want to grade these essays. Really he didn't. Thankfully, it
seems like some of his colleagues are willing to help him.

Chapter Notes

The conference was such a blast guys and it's great to be home. I'm actually traveling
again tomorrow, this time to go visit my family for the holidays so please wish me
luck.
Also I am starting to apply for PhD programs and it makes me want to die.
Please enjoy this chapter that I wrote instead of starting on my personal statements.

Loki tapped the tip of his quill on the rim of his ink pot. His students had turned in their first set of
essays and he had roll after roll of the ridiculous things to grade. Being a teacher was not very fun
most of the time even if Loki did enjoy the actual teaching part. Perhaps he should just magic the
papers graded, give students grades based on how well Loki assumed they could do and be done
with it.

“Mr. Potter don’t even think about it.” Loki flinched at the censure in that voice.

“Wasn’t thinking of anything Minnie.” He responded automatically. Loki then froze, like a mouse
in front of a cat about to pounce.

Slowly he looked up to see Minerva McGonagall smirking at him.

“Is there perhaps any hope at all that we could forget what just happened?” Instead of granting him
the sweet release of death Minerva merely lifted up an eyebrow and then spoke quite clearly.
“Filius? Pomona? It’s him.”

“Odin strike me down.” Loki groaned as the other two professors popped up from behind a curtain
(Pomona) and an armchair (Filius).

“I think Odin is going to be the least of your problems.” Minerva warned him. “I am very
disappointed in you Mr. Potter.”

“Minnie. Harry already broken my nose, Remus gave me a black eye and you do not want to know
what Hermione Granger threatened to do to me.” Loki said. “Could you please at least allow me
the honor of explaining myself before you put me on a pike and roast me over an open flame?”

The three professors, the ones who had known him the best, were looking quite murderous but at
the very least the mention of Hermione made them pause. They looked at each other for a moment
before taking a seat at his table.
“Talk.” Pomona ordered.

“Right. Yes. How to start this…”

“Mr. Potter.”

“Right. Right. So, it all started when I left my home in Asgard and decided to set up shop on
earth.” Loki began.

And he told them. The four of them were alone in the staff room, the only other noise in the entire
room was the cracking of the fire. They listened to him as he explained his decision to become
James Potter and the subsequent changing of his entire world view.

“Oh how I loved this world.” Loki said. “How I loved learning magic from you and making
mischief and just…being myself in a way I had never been allowed to be. I admit that when my
memories returned on my 18th birthday I was quite upset to have my fantasy destroyed.”

“Did Lily know?” Filius asked, ever protective of his favorite student.

“She was the only one I told. I told her when we were married, gave her the chance to back off, to
deny me. She didn’t of course. Just loved me.” Loki sighed, a pang in his heart making him far
more maudlin than he wanted to be. “After…I well I was in a human body you see. I didn't have
the power of a god to protect my family and when I was killed, I couldn't get back to earth fast
enough. I tried to find Harry or anyone but I couldn't...I believed them all to be dead.”

“So you went home.” Pomona finished. “To mourn.”

And Loki looked around at the three professors, the people who had taught him so much, and he
found acceptance in their eyes.

“Just so. I never got over it.” Loki said. “And I was angry at the world for taking my family from
me. That rage was what…Before my invasion of New York I was being held prisoner by a
dangerous maniac and he used a magical device to twist my mind, all I could think about was the
rage and pain of losing Lily and they set me on her home planet. The spells on me were broken
violently near the end of the failed invasion and there was nothing I could do to…undo what had
been done. I work with the muggles who stopped me, I thought perhaps Lily would have approved
of it.”

“She would have.” Filius declared. “And I assume that Harry found out?”

“At the end of the last school year. Found his mother’s journal and decided that I’d abandoned him
and that I deserved a punch in the face for it.”

“I knew Harry had disappeared from his relatives over the summer, but I hadn’t expected that.”
Minerva said, decidedly amused.

“How did you figure it out?” Loki asked.

“Oh James.” Filius said shaking his head. “You’re exactly the same.”

“You were never that great of an actor either.” Pomona added.

“Now I’m just offended.” Loki sniffed causing the three teachers to laugh.

“Why all the secrecy?” Minerva asked.

“Harry is a demi-god. You-Know-Who used his blood in the resurrection ritual, if he knew what he
had, he could do untold damage with that sort of power.” Loki warned. “I can’t…I won’t risk my
son’s life anymore by openly being his father, not until this war is over. You can’t tell anyone
about this.”

“We won’t.” Filius promised.

“Thank you. For your secrecy and for everything else. You all taught Harry enough magic to
survive this long and I couldn’t be more grateful.”

“You should be very proud of him James.” Minerva said smiling. “He really is quite a wonder.”

“He reminds me so much of Lily.” Loki admitted. “I couldn’t be prouder of him.”

“Has he told you about his tutoring group?” She asked. “The boy came to me to ask for permission
to hold a bi-weekly club meeting where older students volunteer their time to tutor the younger
years.”

“An interhouse effort!” Pomona said clapping her hands together. “Harry and Neville came to me
to ask to borrow a few plants for some hands on herbology work. I asked them who else was
working on the club and they have students from every house.”

“I think it’s about time.” Filius said. “I’ve been pushing for a club like this for years but the
funding or the staff was never there for it.”

“We’ve been understaffed for decades.” Minerva complained. “The war took away all of the best
graduates, we’ve had no one to replace professors who retire since 1967. I didn’t use to be the only
transfigurations professor you know. Of course, we’ve had a few new additions but so many
courses have had to be cut from the curriculum, rolled back all the way to just the core classes.”

“It doesn’t help that admittance rates have tanked.” Pomona pointed out. “I mean if the parents are
off fighting in a war that never ends doesn’t really give them much time to make large families
does it.”

“Bless Molly and Arthur for doing it anyway.”

“I’d drink to that.” Filius declared.

“And do not even get me started on Defense!” Minerva declared violently.

“Is this…Is this what being a teacher is like?” Loki asked feeling entirely mystified. Pomona
reached out and carefully gave Loki’s hand a gentle pat, he didn’t know if she was being
patronizing or comforting.

“You’ll get used to it James.” Filius promised. “Speaking of…who knows?”

“Well Harry and his two best friends.”

“The golden trio is what the staff’s been calling them.” Pomona revealed.

“Of course, you have. Yes, well they know, as does Albus, Snape, and Draco Malfoy.” At the look
on their faces Loki grimaced and snapped his fingers, conjuring four glasses of potent whiskey.
“Please do not ask me about that mess.”

“I had noticed that Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Potter had been acting quite strangely these past two
weeks.” Minerva pointed out.

Loki had not grounded his son. This was mostly because there was nothing for him to ground his
son from. He’d brought up the idea of grounding his son for his actions in Asgard and Tyr had
smacked him upside the head. Tyr had threatened to take his head off if he punished Harry for
actually using his sword for the first time without someone yelling at him to do it. So Harry was
still meant to go to Asgard.

Loki couldn’t bring himself to tell his son he couldn’t play quidditch either. He wasn’t a monster.

So, Harry had gone unpunished by his father. Not that he’d been free of punishment. After all, now
Harry actually had to spend time with Draco Malfoy and Loki considered that punishment enough.

“Draco owes Harry a life debt now and Harry refuses to understand what that means.” Loki
explained. “So now Draco keeps desperately trying to find a way to wriggle out of helping Harry
with his plan to unify the school against evil and Harry firmly believes that Draco is ‘on the path to
redemption, really dad I mean it’. I am…exhausted.”

“You can’t rest now I’m afraid.” Filius pointed out. “We’ve been watching your son for five years
now, you’ve not even got one under your belt yet. Buck up.”

“Thank you. That’s very comforting.”

They all smirked at him and then took sips of the drinks he so helpfully provided. They
complimented him on his choice and Loki told them that he’d only provide the best for his favorite
teachers.

“I should also mention one other thing.” Loki said. “Sirius is alive.”

“What?” Minerva shouted. “But- but he.”

“The Veil of Death is just a tear in the Yggdrasil, anyone who falls through it will just land in
another part of the universe relatively unharmed. Over the summer Harry and I mounted a rescue
mission and managed to get Sirius out of there. Speaking of which I should really go back to the
ministry and close that tear up before it does any more harm.”

“Next thing you’re going to tell us is that you also managed to bring Lily back.” Filius said, Loki
winced and shook his head.

“No. I’m afraid not even a god can undo death.”

They settled into silence then, drinking for a bit and reminiscing. Eventually Pomona looked at the
essays stacked in front of Loki and clicked her tongue.

“You’ll never get through grading doing it like that dear.”

“Huh?”

“You need a rubric.”

“A what?”

“A rubric, just a sheet of paper with the things you wanted the student to write down. Then you can
read through their work and look for the correct phrases and mark it off. Can save you hours if you
do it right.”
“Oh.” Loki said. “I…I think perhaps I wasn’t prepared to be a teacher.”

“How surprising.” Minerva said.

“Hey.”

“Oh, shush James. We’ll help you, just this once.” Filius said grabbing for one of the many piles of
scrolls.

“I’m far too selfish to tell you no.”

Soon enough every one of his old professors was taking pity on him and helping him get through
the grading of the hundreds of essays he had to do. As they graded for him the professors were
kind enough to tell Loki in explicit detail just exactly what his son had been up to for the past five
years. This also resulted in Loki getting drunk just to keep his nerves steady.

It was so much worse than Loki had thought. His son had been vague on the details. Likely
uncomfortable talking about things that brought such attention to him. But his old teachers had no
such compunctions.

Wrestling a troll, as an eleven year old!

The dementors! The Damn Dementors! (And let’s not forget the damn time turner either!)

Steal a golden egg from a nesting dragon? No problem for Haraldr Lokison.

What about a gigantic murder maze? That’s just a typical Tuesday.

Swimming with murderous mermaids? Sounds like a pleasant afternoon.

It was near the end of the grading that Loki finally learnt how his son got the scar on the back of
his hand.

“She what?”

“We didn’t know what she was doing.” Filius said. “She made the students believe we knew and
that we agreed and when we asked they just said they were doing lines. I swear if I’d known, she
would not have remained in the castle.”

“None of us would have stood for it. But with her inquisitorial squad none of the students felt brave
enough to tell us and…”

“We should have been more vigilant.” Minerva decided. “It’s our own fault, our students were hurt
under our charge.”

“Oh I just hated that woman.” Pomona said. “Despised her and her awful pink robes.”

Loki tilted his neck so loudly it caused a cricking noise he then clicked his tongue against his teeth.

“Where is she?” Loki asked. “Where is Dolores Umbridge?”

“I assume she’s gone back to the Ministry to work for Fudge, she was his Undersecretary before.
Why?” Filius asked.

“Perhaps I shouldn’t answer that question for you. Plausible deniability after all.”
“James.” Minerva said. “If you kill the Undersecretary you will be fired.”

“I’m not going to kill the toad Minerva.” Loki said. “No one will even know I did a thing.”

“Then tell us.” Pomona said. “Oh I just want to make that woman suffer for what she did to my
students!”

Loki was just drunk enough to truly see the viciousness in that statement. Something he normally
would have missed when it came from as someone as genuinely pleasant as Pomona Sprout. He
blinked a little looked at the other two teachers who were also sporting rather bloodthirsty looks.

“I…well I had thought perhaps to teach the woman why she shouldn’t mark the son of the god of
lies with something like that.” Loki said. “I have a few Asgardian curses that would be quite
effective.”

“Do you have anything that’ll make cats hate her?” Minerva asked, a glint in her eyes.

“You know I do Minnie.”

“Well then I might have a few ideas myself.”

Which is how four drunk Hogwarts professors planned out their revenge against Delores
Umbridge. They flooed from Minerva’s office to Diagon Alley, drunk and holding back delighted
giggles. Tom lifted up a shocked eyebrow at the sight of the drunk professors coming out of the
Leaky Cauldron’s floo. Minerva brought herself up and gave Tom a very serious look.

“I trust, Mr. Miller, that you won’t be speaking of this.”

“Of course not Miss.” He said. “Might I have the pleasure of knowing what your four fine
professors are up to?”

“Oh, just a bit of mischief.” Loki said. “Keep your eye on the morning paper!”

And with that Loki led his three favorite professors into a spot of mischief. He found it was far
more enjoyable working with Minerva McGonagall than trying to work around her. Filius had a
very sharp tongue and some devious ideas that he’d hidden behind a kind smile too. Pomona was
just vicious, much like a badger protecting their young. Loki approved of course.

It took only a couple of hours to get done what they wanted to and they drunkenly stumbled back
to Hogwarts high on their success. They went back to Loki’s rooms and continued to drink and
gossip with one another, Loki even shared a bunch of Asgardian gossip that made Filius laugh so
hard he nearly threw up. They fell asleep on Loki’s couches and woke with blinding hangovers
having missed breakfast.

They would have been late to their first classes of the day if Madam Pomphrey hadn’t tracked them
down, snapped them awake and then refused to give them hangover potions. Served them right she
claimed. So, Loki stumbled to his first class, with perfectly graded essays and a headache in hand.
His first class of the day was the sixth year class. The one Harry was in.

His students were already inside and seated, chattering away at each other. Harry was staring
directly at him and on the desk in front of him was the morning paper.

Oh no.

Loki did his best to remember exactly what he’d done in his drunkenness. He knew he’d broken
into both the Ministry (where he pranked some things and then gave a very drunken and
irresponsible demonstration of Yggdrasil care to his equally drunk old professors) and had then
tracked down the location of where Umbridge lived in London and broken into her home via floo.
He vaguely recalled doing some magic there and taking a can of conjured spray paint to paint the
word ‘Umbitch’ on the walls of her bedroom over her creepy paintings of cats.

Harry looked very, very torn.

“Quiet down!” Loki ordered. “I was up all night grading your pointless essays and if any of you
speak out of turn today, I swear on Odin himself I’ll throw you out a window.”

“We didn’t see you at breakfast professor.” Hermione said politely while his son glared at him
suspiciously.

“I fail to see how that is any of your business Granger.” Loki sneered. “Now. Everyone, get up and
push the tables to the wall. We’re starting dueling today.”

Thankfully as a god he didn’t never had a hangover for long. Unlike his colleagues he was fine by
the time the students were ready to start dueling. Loki snapped his fingers creating a circle of red
paint.

“Longbottom. Zabini. To the center.” Loki ordered. “You’ll bow to each other and then follow
traditional dueling rules. Two spells each turn. No illegal spells. No murderous intent. First one tied
up, unconscious, or pushed out of the circle loses. Questions? No. Good. Begin.”

He didn’t give them time to ask questions. He smirked as Neville and Blaise both looked at each
other and slowly stepped into the circle to begin. Thankfully the students were distracted enough
by their dueling peers that no one important noticed Harry sliding over to Loki and looking at him,
a question clear in his eyes.

“It’s fine.”

“Fine??” He hissed. “Did you see the paper??”

Loki wordlessly cast a privacy spell, something to keep anyone from overhearing them. He kept his
eyes on Neville as the boy cast a disarming spell and then a stinging hex. Blaise dodged the
disarming spell and blocked the hex with his first spell before firing back a tripping hex.

“No. I was…sleeping.” Loki admitted.

“Dad.”

“I had a late night.”

“Doing what? Hexing Umbridge?”

“Minerva figured out my identity.” Loki said. “And she told me what happened to you last year. I
wasn’t going to let that stand, Starlight.”

“The papers say that cats are pissing all over her every time she goes outside!”

“A petty curse.”

“Every other word she speaks causes toads to fall out of her mouth.”

“That was Filius’ idea.”

“The plants in the ministry tried to eat her. The normal ones.”

“Pomona can really be quite persuasive.”

“There were pictures of those brain things from the Department of Mysteries in her office.”

“Well I had to go back down there to take care of the Veil of Death, didn’t want to waste the trip.”

“Dad.”

“Starlight. She abused children, hundreds of them. Not just you. But nearly every child in this
school, if not all of them in some way.” Loki said. “The curses I’ve placed on her will be lifted the
moment she admits her crimes and is punished for them. She only has to suffer as long as she
chooses.”

“This is insane Dad. You can’t go around doing stuff like this.”

“So you can go around being a hero but I can’t do what I was meant to do?” Loki asked. “Seems a
bit hypocritical.”

Harry huffed.

“I didn’t want you to know. About that.”

“I saw the scar. I didn’t know how you’d gotten it but…Harry I can’t let that go unpunished. You
didn’t deserve that and I won’t allow her to harm anyone else with that quill of hers.”

Harry swallowed and nodded. It wasn’t something they had talked about yet. At least not fully.
Harry had this tendency to really shy away from things like vengeance. Loki didn’t know where it
came from, not even Lily was that forgiving. It was something he loved about his son even if it
made it difficult to work around how Loki wanted to treat people like Umbridge or Dumbledore. In
front of them Neville successfully hit Blaise with a sleeping hex, sending the other teen flying to
the floor. Loki lifted up a hand and used magic to cushion Blaise’s fall.

“Excellent Longbottom, 3 points to Gryffindor.” Loki said. “Now wake Zabini up. Weasley, you’re
up next along with Patil.”

“Which one?” Padma asked.

“You.” Loki decided pointing at the other twin.

Harry had ducked in between the crowds at the end of the duel and no one seemed to notice. When
Ron began his duel, Harry returned.

“I had a vision at breakfast.”

“What?”

“You know.” Harry carefully tapped his scar. “I think he’s back in England. He’s trying to find
Nagini. Can you send out a warning that he might try to pull something soon? He’s angry.”

“It will be done.” Loki promised. “Go to your head of house if the pain gets bad, she’ll call me and
I’ll help block it for you.”

Ron easily took the win, using magic to trip his opponent out of the circle. As the class cheered
Loki heard his son whisper ‘love you dad’ and slipping away fully.
As the class continued Loki kept an eye on his son. He wasn’t surprised to see the scar get redder
and brighter as time went on. Occasionally his son would twitch in pain or rub at his scar as if
trying to push away an itching sensation. Previously his son’s visions had come on quickly and
without much warning, but Loki had been carefully building up his son’s defenses and now it took
much longer for any of Voldemort to get through, if he did at all.

Voldemort must be furious.

His good mood at a pranking spree well done vanished when class ended and his son didn’t leave,
Ron and Hermione stayed nearby. To his surprise Draco was also lingering, but a bit further away,
watching the door for any eavesdroppers.

“Are you getting anything mate?”

“He’s…I think it’s…he knows Malfoy’s mum is gone and he can’t find his snake.” Harry gasped
out. “He’s not thinking straight. Dad.”

Loki snapped his fingers, conjuring his phone. He immediately tapped out a message to Jarvis,
letting him know that Voldemort was back in England and trouble was coming.

“Warning’s been sent. Do you have a location Harry?”

“No. He doesn’t know what he’s doing.” Harry said. “There’s no plan dad he just wants to hurt
someone.”

“He’ll come here.” Draco said. “He told me that if my parents escaped that he’d…”

“He won’t get through the wards of the castle on a frontal assault.” Loki soothed. “But he might try
to attack Hogsmeade. It’d take the adults out of the castle and allow him to sneak someone into the
castle for you.”

Draco flinched a bit and Loki turned back to his son.

“Do you think he’ll do it soon?” Harry gasped in pain again and then nodded. Loki carefully
reached up and cast a few more spells to help fully block the connection, his son almost collapsed
in relief. “Then I suggest you get ready. We’ll be alerted when the attack happens. If it’s
Hogsmeade then you three should make your way there on your own.”

“What about me?” Draco asked.

“That is your choice. If you want protection, you can go to where your mother is or stay here in my
office until the attack is over.”

“Or?”

“Or you could come with us.” Harry offered. “You’re a great dueler Malfoy.”

“You expect me to fight against my own…?”

“We expect nothing.” Loki said. “As always it is your choice.”

Draco pouted once again. He hated their insistence that it was his choice. It made his desire to
repay his magical debt all the more difficult to achieve. Harry either didn’t realize he was making
things harder for Draco or he knew and was enjoying it far too much to stop. Over the past two
weeks since Harry had rescued Narcissa Malfoy, Harry had been relentless in his pursuit of Draco.
Constantly working on trying to convince Malfoy not to believe in Death Eater values. His son
seemed determined to bring Draco to his side. When Loki asked him why his son merely shrugged
and pointed out that the war wouldn’t stop until they managed to stop hating each other for silly
things.

He had no idea if his son had been at all successful. From his perspective on the outside it seemed
like Draco was digging his heels as much as possible when it came to redemption. Much to the
annoyance of Ron and Hermione, who both couldn’t stand Draco for their own reasons. Draco had
at least stopped calling people Mudbloods which was some form of progress.

Loki’s phone buzzed and he looked at the message.

“The Avengers are ready.” Loki said. “As are the Americans. Go get into your armor.”

The four teens nodded and turned to leave. The last thing Loki heard was Draco asking in a very
whiney voice why they had armor and he didn’t. Loki scoffed and rolled his eyes. Honestly what
his son saw in that boy he’d never know.

Then again, Loki had had the same thought about Lily and himself.
 Voldie's Next Attack
Chapter Summary

Harry's scar pain proves true once again and Voldemort attacks. But where? And is
Draco going to actually go?

Chapter Notes

Merry Christmas (for those who celebrate!) and for those who don't happy update day
and holidays to you! Once I update this I'll be going to a theater to watch the new Star
Wars movie so send me good vibes because based on what I've seen online....
I'll need the vibes.
Updates might be late next week. I'll be traveling home next week and I might not
have internet to post on time. Please check my twitter for more information if my next
update isn't up when you expect.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The attack, when it came, came to London.

The only warning the four of them had was Harry’s scar erupting in pain and blood began to pour
out of the scar.

And it was the four of them, Draco had agreed, in his own way to go with them. He had kept
complaining that they were forcing him and that they were inhumane but none of them had even
asked more than once. To Harry it seemed that Draco just wanted someone to put up a fight with
him so that he could claim he’d been forced into doing the right thing.

All Draco ever wanted to do was fight. He goaded Hermione into debates about magic or
muggleborns (all of which he lost), he argued loudly with Ron in DA meetings about pureblood
culture and honor (which he won only about a third of the time). Most often though Draco was
constantly trying to get Harry to fight him. Ever since their confrontation before rescuing his mum,
Draco had become more intent on getting Harry to fight him.

Harry had no idea why either.

Was Draco feeling the same rumbling rage that Harry had been carrying around when he’d tried to
punch his dad?

Or was just Draco just an asshole?

Ron thought Draco was trying to test Harry. Ron pointed out that Draco wouldn’t want to totally
betray Voldemort unless he thought Harry could actually win. Which he didn’t know because so
far he hadn’t seen Harry use complicated magic since his transformation. Harry didn’t see how a
duel with Malfoy would prove if he could take on Voldemort. But who knew what went on in
Draco’s head?
Harry only knew what was going on in his own head. (Well most of the time.)

What he knew right then was that they had to get to London.

“Are we ready to portkey to London?” Hermione asked.

“Harry, you good?” Ron asked.

“I’m fine, the pain’s already fading.” Harry said. “Malfoy, you’ll stick with me okay?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because I’m a demi-god and you can use my practically invulnerable body as a meat shield?”
Harry suggested, his voice only half sarcastic.

“Oh. Well then.”

“Is it that surprising that I don’t want you to die?”

“I can assure you that feeling is not mutual. And you could be bringing me into a trap.”

“Merlin, Malfoy if you don’t want to go then don’t.” Ron said.

“And have you take all the glory Weasel? I think not.”

Everyday Harry regretted more and more reaching out to Malfoy. He had been annoying before as
his rival, but that meant Harry only had to deal with him in small doses. Now Draco was always
around, and he didn’t get any less bothersome over time. Harry dealt with it because he had to.
Frankly if he didn’t reach out to the Slytherins and the purebloods and everyone else that had been
on Voldemort’s ‘side’ then it didn’t matter who won the war, the war would just be fought again
and again and again. They needed unity even if that meant dealing with Draco Malfoy.

Harry cleaned the blood off of his face with a towel and then stood up from his chair. They were
all dressed in their armor (those who had some) and had their weapons ready. Hermione pulled out
a rope, specially designed to take them to Thor’s location, wherever the battle was going to be,
Thor would be there.

“Okay, Draco.” Harry said. “For the last time do you want to go or not? Because if you don’t, I’ll
hex you to sleep right now and leave you alone in the room of requirement.”

“I owe you a debt Potter.”

“Do. You. Want. To. Go.” Harry asked causing Draco to groan.

“Yes. Yes fine. Happy now?”

“Overjoyed Malfoy. You’ve made me overjoyed. Now grab on.”

He rolled his eyes but grabbed the free part of the rope that Hermione, Ron, and Harry weren’t
using. Once his grip was firm Harry spoke the password.

“Assemble.”

Harry still didn’t like portkeys but after using the Bifrost so often he felt far more comfortable with
it. They landed in an alleyway in Diagon Alley, Thor was there, hammer drawn.
“Thor.” Harry said. “We’re here.”

“Nephew!” He greeted turning to smile at them. He reached into a pocket and pulled out four
communicators, Hermione took two and put one in her ear while explaining to Draco how they
worked. Draco looked bemused by the very idea. “The Death Eaters have just appeared, there is no
sign of You-Know-Who but he will likely appear once you do.”

“Got it. Any sign of dad?”

“He’s shifted to an American.” Thor said. “With a very unique nose.”

“Right.”

“All four of us together then?” Ron asked. “Where has the least coverage?”

“There is Knockturn Alley and the Bank.”

“We’ll take the bank.” Harry said. “No need to give dad a heart attack by going in Knockturn.”

“Go with victory.” Thor ordered.

“We will.”

Diagon Alley was a mess.

Fred and George could be heard cackling in the distance, their forms obscured by smoke and spell
fire. There were buildings on fire and the shouts and screams of death eaters and civilians alike.
Smoke filled the air like a thick fog and Harry felt a chill dance along his skin that reminded him of
something but he wasn’t quite sure what.

The three of them immediately spread out into a triangle formation to cover each other. Draco
stumbled a bit and Harry pulled him so that he was standing behind him.

“Watch our backs.”

“R…right.”

“Just shout if you see someone.” Ron said. “And don’t fire any spells at us.”

“I’m not an idiot.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“Come on. Let’s get to Gringotts.” Harry said. “Does anyone know the way from here?”

“Just follow me.” Draco scoffed, pushing his way to the front.

He started striding confidently through the destroyed streets. Harry rolled his eyes and jumped
forward to follow. Draco didn’t make it more than teen feet before almost getting his head blown
off by a dueling group of Death Eaters and some shop owners. Thankfully Draco managed to cast a
shield spell in time. The three of them rushed to his aid, Hermione roughly pulled Draco back by
his robe and Harry jumped up.

Remember Lokison, remember what my Brenna taught me.

Harry’s eyes tracked over the entire scene, three death eaters against a woman who sold Harry his
school quills.

A Valkyrie has three goals:

First, protect the innocent.

“Ron. Shield Madam Hopper and get her behind cover.”

“On it.”

Second, stop injustices.

Harry looked at three death eaters as Hermione fired spells to distract them from their quarry. Ron
grabbed at Hopper’s hand and pulled her away to safety, a shield spell up. He looked at the rubble
on the ground and nodded to himself, he lifted his hand and in a flash of purple flame summoned
his sword to his hand. Then with his other hand he cast a spell on the larger bits of rubble.

Third, and most important, a Valkyrie always wins.

Harry jumped up onto a floating piece of rubble, using the momentum to dodge a wave of spells
from the three Death Eaters.

“It’s Potter! Get him!”

Harry hopped from rock to floating rock, dodging spells, until he was close enough to his first
target. Tyr had taught him a lot about how to fight and he’d taught him in a way that felt right to
Harry. He jumped down from the rock and into a roll. He jumped up right in front of the Death
Eater, sword up to block the first spell they fired, a cruciatus. The spell’s energy was absorbed into
the blade and Harry grinned.

No magic user will use spells in close quarters or they’ll hurt themselves with the backlash. Use
that to your advantage Lokison.

The Death Eater tried to get some distance between them but Harry didn’t give him the chance. He
used his sword to guide the man into the proper position and then he got in very close, grabbed his
wand arm and twisted. The man’s arm dislocated with a pop and a scream, his wand fell to the
ground.

This technique means injuring your opponents as little as you can. If you can break an arm instead
of a leg do it. If you can dislocate a limb instead of breaking it, all the better.

From behind him Harry heard a few shouts of spells and Harry lifted a hand summoning rubble to
act as blocks. The spells exploded the rubble into dust before they could reach Harry. Harry finally
cast a stunning spell on the Death Eater he’d just fought. He turned around to see Ron and
Hermione, along with Draco subduing the other two.

“Ready to keep moving?”

“Perhaps you should lead.” Draco said. “I’ll just give the directions.”

“Good plan.” Harry said in his most sarcastic voice.

They only ran into five more Death Eaters on their way to the steps of the bank. In their ears there
was chatter from the Avengers coms, keeping them up to date on everyone else who was fighting
Death Eater and any new information that they might need. Hermione spoke for their group of
students, telling the Avengers when they downed Death Eaters so that their location could be
marked for pick up.

Draco complained about the muggle device in his ear until Ron punched him in the shoulder and
told him to shut up.

Then he started complaining about blood traitor brutality.

Then Ron pointed out that technically now he was a blood traitor too.

That stumped him silent for a good few moments.

When they got to the bank Harry looked up at the doors that were locked tighter than the entrance
to Hel and nodded to himself. Frankly Harry didn’t know much about goblins but he knew they
probably wouldn’t want to help him. They didn’t like humans and for good reason. But Harry
knew that that wasn’t what was important.

“You guys going to be okay for a few minutes?”

“Why?”

“Gonna let the goblins know we’re on their side.”

“You can’t go in there!” Draco said. “It’s imposs-”

Harry didn’t even let him finish. He tapped into that special magic his dad had taught him and
teleported forward. He worked right through the wards that had been set in Midgardian magic and
appeared inside the bank, where goblins were gathered in armor and yelling at each other in a
language Harry didn’t understand.

“INTRUDER!”

“Wait!” Harry said lifting up both his hands. “I’m bringing a message.”

One of the goblins, one Harry had never seen before, glared at him for a moment. He was wearing
more ornate armor than the other goblins and he also looked a bit older.

“Speak human.”

“My friends and I, well I guess me especially, I’m offering your bank protection.” Harry noted the
looks of outrage and rushed to correct himself. Right warrior race. “Not because you can’t defend
yourself, you definitely can, it’s just. This is a human evil that we created and that you’ve suffered.
I don’t think you should have to risk your lives.”

“How do we know you speak truth?”

Harry dropped his sword, and his inner Tyr yelled at him for it, and lifted up his hand.

“Would a magical vow work?”

“Give it.”

“I, Haraldr Lokison and Harry Potter, son of Asgard and Midgard, and child of prophecy, swear to
defend your people from the evil that my kind created to the best of my ability.”

Whispers burst out from the crowds and Harry heard Hermione shout for him through his coms.
“I’ve got to go.” He said picking up his sword. “Duty calls.”

Unlike the time Harry spoke to the Americans this time he left their presence feeling quite good
about that interactions. He teleported back out of the bank and found his friends had erected
barriers and were taking pot shots at a group of Death Eaters trying to storm the bank.

“How many of ‘em?”

“Thirty at least.”

“I think they know you’re here.” Hermione said.

“Recognize anyone Malfoy?” Ron taunted.

“They’re all wearing masks Weasel. Of course I don’t…oh wait. That one is Goyle’s dad.”

“Course it is, he’s Hagrid sized!” Ron shouted.

“I’ve got an idea.” Harry said.

“What?” Ron and Draco both asked.

“‘Mione? You ever play that game as a kid? The Floor is Lava?”

“Of course, I…oh. Oh, Harry that’s brilliant! You take the left and I’ll take the right.”

“Ron cover Hermione from fire, Draco you cover me, we’re going to clear the stairs.”

Hermione and Harry moved to opposite sides of the barrier. Ron and Draco listened to Harry and
cast shields on them so that they weren’t hit as they worked. Together they began to cast spells that
heated the marble steps of the stairs. The white marble began to glow red from the output of heat
and Death Eaters yelped in pain as their feet were burnt through their boots. About half of the
Death Eaters teleported away, bettering their odds.

“Can you hold the heat?” Harry asked Hermione. She nodded and concentrated on her own spell,
increasing her output. Harry teleported forward and began to pull the Death Eaters away from the
stairs so that they were no longer swarming his friends. He mostly dodged and blocked spells until
most of the attention was on him.

His friends and Draco began to start taking out Death Eaters from behind.

They continued to fight against the swarm of Death Eaters together, knocking out as many as they
could. Unfortunately, the other Death Eaters would revive their friends so Harry was forced to
dislocate more shoulders, which meant the Death Eaters couldn’t use their arms and so they
couldn’t heal themselves, even if their allies revived them. It slowed them down some at least a
little since healing spells required more concentration and vulnerability than was safe in a battle.

Tyr’s training came in handy, especially for Ron who stayed on the stairs and started firing
magically charged arrows towards Death Eaters and Hermione used her battle axe with less
restraint than anyone, but Harry and Ron expected.

Even as Harry moved and sweated with exertion, he still felt a strange chill that grew and grew. It
wasn’t until he heard a woman screaming, begging for his life, that he knew. He punched a Death
Eater hard enough in the chest to send him to the ground, but not hard enough to break a rib. Then
he looked out over the chaos of Diagon alley. Where are they?
There!

Harry lifted up his sword and pointed the tip right at one of the streets furthest away from him. He
couldn’t see them but he could sense them, his dad’s training coming handy.

“EXPECTO PATRONUM!”

A stag, much larger than Harry had ever cast before, burst from the tip of his sword and rushed
towards the dementors. The energy coming off of the stag was enough to push Death Eaters away.
The dementors shrieked and began to flee away from the alley. Harry breathed a sigh of relief, he
didn’t notice the spell coming for the back of his head until Draco tackled him to the ground and a
bright green spell flew over both their heads.

“Pay attention scarhead!” Draco yelled as Ron shot a stunning spell on the Death Eater that had
almost killed him.

Harry hissed in pain, the burning in his scar increasing.

“He’s coming.”

Harry pushed Draco off of him and both of them scrambled up. Draco looked at Harry for a
moment, something stark in his gray eyes.

“Don’t die Potter.”

“Worried about me?”

“No. I just don’t want to fail to repay my debt.”

“Right. Pretty sure you saving my life just did that.”

“Shut up.”

“Behind the barrier. If he doesn’t see you, you’ll be safe.” Harry said, Draco nodded and rushed to
hide behind the hastily raised barrier at the top of the bank steps. “Ron. Hermione. Stay back and
get ready to summon blocks for killing curses.”

“We’ll back you up mate.” Ron promised.

“Together.” Hermione swore.

And then he was there. Harry’s scar started bleeding again and he turned to see Voldemort
stepping forward through the rubble. His two friends stood on either side of him, wands drawn, and
Harry felt brave. In his ears he heard the Avengers rushing to get there, his dad shouting for Harry
to stay smart.

“What are you doing here Tom?” Harry shouted. “You’re not going to win today.”

“Stand aside boy.” Voldemort snarled.

“You said the same words to my mother.” Harry said. “And how did that work out for you?”

A killing curse was his response. Hermione, Ron, and Harry all used magic to pull the road in front
of their feet up forming a barrier of cobblestones and cement that exploded on impact from the
energy of the curse. Harry looked over at Ron who took a few steps back and pulled his bow from
his back nocking an arrow.
 “Lower it on three.” Ron whispered causing Harry and Hermione to stand aside so that Ron could
shoot between them. Ron counted down and when he hit three Hermione and Harry let the barrier
collapse. Ron let off an arrow immediately that hit Voldemort in the shoulder. Hermione and Harry
both followed that up with spells of their own that Voldemort managed to block.

“You won’t keep me from that bank Potter. I know what you’re doing.”

Well that was news because Harry had no idea what he was doing. Why did he want to get into the
bank?

“You’re not getting into that bank.” Harry said before looking up and smirking. “And look who’s
coming to stop you.”

Thor roared and summoned a huge lightning bolt that would have hit Voldemort dead on if the guy
hadn’t teleported out of the way. Thor landed a moment later, forming a crater in the street. The
duel began between the four of them against Voldemort. Casting spells and dodging the return fire.
Harry stumbled around on the uneven street. He had picked up a few injuries from earlier fights
and the pain from Voldemort’s nearness was further weakening him.

Despite this it seemed like a majority of Voldemort’s attentions were on the very angry and very
vengeful god of thunder. The sky was quickly turning dark, the sun blocked out by thick rolling
clouds. There was so much lightning in the air that Harry could feel it dancing along his skin. Thor
was not holding back, his eyes glowing with godly rage. Harry ended up back near the steps of the
bank, guarding it with Draco and his friends.

By the time the other Avengers began to arrive, Voldemort decided it was best to retreat, smelling
far too much of static and burnt robes.

Unfortunately, before Voldemort left he looked at the bank and saw Draco standing there, a look of
rage passed over his face.

“This isn’t over.”

Then he disappeared.

A moment later Draco started to scream.

Chapter End Notes

Updates might be late next week. I'll be traveling home next week and I might not
have internet to post on time. Please check my twitter for more information if my next
update isn't up when you expect.
 Draco Malfoy and The Power of Friendship
Chapter Summary

The Dark Mark is a powerful magical binding.

It's also killing Draco Malfoy and Harry has no idea what to do.

Chapter Notes

Happy New Decade everyone!!! Thank you all for reading this and enjoying it as
much as you have. The comments on this story each week give me such joy! I never
expected anyone to read this as much as you all have, so seriously thank you!!
<3

The Dark Mark was just the latest in a long line of innovative magic.

Its rich history began nearly 2000 years ago when a group of slavers came together and determined
that they needed a way to ensure that their newest acquisitions stayed put. A rudimentary mark was
designed, something placed over the heart of a new slave, something that would kill them if they
attempted to leave their servitude.

The first iterations lacked the potency of later versions. It was almost crude. All it did was keep
slaves tied to a certain place. It did not command them, it did not own them. The flaw of this plan
of course was that when slaves rebelled and killed their masters they now owned the land they
were tied too and they were able to use their marks to strengthen that ownership.

So newer generations reinvented the marks. The next generation required complete obedience or it
would kill the marked. This back fired because some marks allowed the marked to interpret
commands in anyway they chose, resulting in the deaths of owners and the freedom of the slave or
the marks required obedience even when commands were vague resulting in spontaneous death if
the marked couldn’t complete the task given.

Things were sticky after that. Groups of slavers would come up with their own versions of the
marks that they would claim had worked out all of these problems, but that really didn’t. Part of the
charm of buying slaves from certain groups was the marks these slaves would have, hoping that
this would be the safest from of magical slave ownership. The workings of these marks remained
trade secrets, their weaknesses and how to break them hidden behind secret combinations and
threats of murder.

All the way up until the 1600s that was how things worked. Then the statute of secrecy was
enacted and the enslavement of magical people was outlawed globally. This of course instituted
the creation and enslavement of house elves but that is another story entirely. The secrets of these
slave marks was lost to time as slavers were killed or jailed and the knowledge was hidden far
away where most witches and wizards could pretend it never was.

That was until Tom Riddle stuck his nose into places he really should not have.
Tom Riddle read about the history of these marks, Professor Binns had been ever so kind allowing
him into the restricted section, he could not find the original spells but he was smart. He could
guess at their function and more importantly he could see their weaknesses for what they were.

You see the problem with these marks was that they punished disobedience with death.

Tom knew, even as a young man, that there were far worse things than death.

And so, the Dark Mark was born.

It was intricately designed, using a mixture of parseltongue magic and just a bit of soul magic. It
tied the owner to the marked via their souls. It allowed Voldemort access to their hearts, their
minds, and most importantly their bodies in a way that no other mark before it could. It was a
permanent sort of mark that allowed him near complete control of his followers. He could cause
them incredible pain and he could siphon off their magic to supplement his own, something that if
taken too far would result in death or madness. He could and had left some of his followers in the
same state as someone who was given the dementors kiss.

All of this information was something that Harry Potter did not know as he held up a screaming
Draco Malfoy on the steps of Gringotts bank. He did not know that Draco’s soul had been forcibly
bound to Lord Voldemort’s. He did not know that Voldemort planned to drive Draco insane as
punishment for his betrayal. He didn’t know anything.

All he knew was that the boy he’d been trying to help, who annoyed him beyond all means, who
was good at potions and dueling and knew more about pureblood traditions than just about anyone
(even if Ron argued otherwise), was screaming worse than people who’d been hit by the cruciatus.
His dad wasn’t there, his friends didn’t know what to do, and his uncle was standing over them
worriedly.

“Harry.” Hermione said. “You’ve got to…This isn’t something I can heal.”

“Mate.” Ron said. “The prophecy says you match You-Know-Who, if anyone can help him it’s got
to be you.”

Harry took in a calming breath and nodded.

“Help me lay him down.” He said. “I’m going to try…something.”

Draco was still screaming even as Hermione and Ron helped pull him down onto the steps, Ron
using his knees to pillow Draco’s head while Hermione held his hands and kept him from
scratching or hitting himself. Harry took the arm that had the Dark Mark and stared at it. It looked
red and inflamed, the snake in the center was swirling almost violently.

What was he supposed to do?

What would his dad do?

Stop the pain first, figure out the cause later. He nodded to himself, he could do that. He could
block a connection between Voldemort and someone else, he was doing it right now. He placed his
hand over the mark, barely flinching at the sting of dark magic on his skin. He closed his eyes and
focused his senses as best he could. His dad had taught him, had promised him, that he could sense
magic, that that was a gift he’d used in quidditch, that he was good at it.

Draco needed him to be good at it.

It wasn’t hard to sense the dark mark, it made his scar tingle. He tried to separate out the energy
that made Draco Draco and the energy of the mark. But it meshed and melded together like two
liquids, almost impossible to truly differentiate. How could he shield against something like that?
How could he help Draco if things were so tightly woven? Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder
and another one placed on top of his own hand. He didn’t open his eyes but he still knew it was his
dad. He hadn’t heard him coming over Draco’s desperate cries.

“Harry.” His dad said. “You can do this.”

“Dad. It’s…it’s all messed up.”

“You know what parts are Voldemort.” His dad insisted, his hand curled over Harry’s. Harry could
feel his dad’s magic ignite. It was a comforting warmth, helping buffet him against the strain of
dark magic, stabilizing Harry’s own senses. “You know his energy better than anyone, better than
me, perhaps even better than himself. Repel it.”

“I don’t know how.”

“Remember what I’ve taught you about magic. Remember and do. He doesn’t have long. This isn’t
something I can do for you. I can’t do soul magic. You must.”

Harry swallowed back his uncertainty and called for the part of his magic that he used so rarely.
His hands ignited in purple flame, no hint of any other color present. His eyes were open as he
stared at the royal purple color as it licked at Draco’s skin.

“Hold him still.” Harry told Hermione. “This is probably going to hurt.”

She reached out and gripped Draco’s upper arm and shoulder pushing him against the ground so
that he couldn’t wriggle. Draco’s cries had quieted, but that was mostly because he’d screamed
himself hoarse. Harry took in a deep breath, he closed his eyes and he pushed.

He visualized in his mind the feeling of Voldemort’s magic, of his soul. His dad was right. He did
know what it felt like. While the dark lord’s magic was still quite thickly mixed with Draco’s,
Harry could still sense it. It was that he pushed at, demanding that it go back to exactly where it
had come from. It wasn’t wanted or welcome there in Draco.

Abruptly it felt like his ears were popping. Voldemort’s magic didn’t want to move but Harry was
stopping it from moving any deeper. Draco stopped screaming and Harry felt him relax beneath
him.

“Whatever you’re doing Potter, don’t stop.” He croaked.

“I…I can’t push it away.” Harry said. “It won’t move.”

“We might have to take the arm off.” Thor said.

“Thor no.” His dad chastised. “We’re not cutting your arm off Mr. Malfoy. I doubt that would even
work anyway. Tell me, how did he put this on you? Anything you can remember?”

“I…” Draco coughed. “He put his wand on my arm and then he…he…spoke parseltongue and it
burned.”

“You can do magic with parseltongue?” Harry asked looking up at Malfoy for the first time. He
looked wrecked, his face covered with tears and sweat from the attack.
“Of course, you can, it’s a very unique sort of Midgardian magic.” His dad said. “I have no idea
how it works but I imagine it follows many of the same rules.”

“Right. Well that’s…something.” Harry said. “Draco are you alright? I’m going to try and get rid
of this thing.”

“You can’t remove the dark mark.”

“Watch me.” Harry said grinning. He looked back down at Malfoys forearm and he hissed out very
carefully. “Be gone.”

Voldemort’s magic, his soul, ebbed away from Harry’s hands and Draco’s body. But it didn’t
leave. Harry frowned and tried again.

“Be gone.”

No. It didn’t go. Did he need specific words? Surely there was something that would repel it. Harry
didn’t have time to try out a thousand different words.

“It’s not…I don’t know what words to use.”

“Maybe you don’t need the right words.” Hermione said. “Your mum didn’t have special words.”

“She had love.” His dad added.

“So what? He has to love Draco to get rid of the dark mark?” Ron joked.

“Just cut my arm off.” Draco begged.

“Shut up Malfoy.”

“Harry, if you don’t want to…”

“No.” Harry said. “I’m going to try.”

“What?” Draco squawked at him. “Potter-”

Harry ignored him and focused inwardly again. He didn’t want Draco to die or whatever it was
Voldemort was doing to him. He did not want Draco to be in that sort of pain.

And was that not love?

Sure, it wasn’t the sort of love that was spoken of in song and legend. But it was far more tangible.
There was something to be said for loving a person without having to like them. To be able to see
them as a person deserving of safety and love even if they were…well a bit annoying sometimes.
Harry loved Draco like he loved almost every other person he’d ever met. If there was one thing
that the Dursleys had taught him by denying him everything he’d ever needed, it was that everyone
deserved that sort of love.

“Get out. You’re not welcome here, Tom.”

His magic flared out of him. He wasn’t begging, not like his mum had, no he was commanding.
Voldemort was not welcome here because Draco Malfoy was loved. He was loved by his mother
and by his friends and even in some odd way by Harry.

And like his magic was made to do it, it shredded the magic that was so deeply entrenched into
Malfoy’s soul. Draco made a strange noise and Harry thought he heard something like birdsong.
He opened his eyes to look up and see that his friends were staring at him slack jawed. Around
them the steps they’d been kneeling on were now covered with lilies. A riot of colors, the flowers
had grown so quickly they’d cracked the marble and transformed everything in the area into what
looked like a peaceful meadow.

“Did it work?” Draco asked.

Carefully Harry lifted up his hand, the one that had been covering Draco’s forearm. They all
looked down to see Draco’s arm was now completely bare. Draco gasped while Harry fell back
against his dad in relief. He turned to look at the man and giggled at the sight. His dad was still in
disguise, he looked like a mixture between Tony and Volstagg with a very large ugly nose in the
middle of his face.

It was ridiculous.

“It’s not funny.”

“It sort of is.” Harry said giggling.

“Says the boy who impersonated the Dark Lord.” His dad said making Harry burst into another
flurry of giggles. Hermione and Ron meanwhile helped pull Draco up into a seated position. The
guy had a cut on his left cheek as well as a gash on his right arm that had come from a barely
dodged spell. Hermione and Ron were also injured having picked up a few injuries themselves
where their armor didn’t protect them completely. Harry thought, up until the point Draco had been
seen by Voldemort, that the guy had held up well. Maybe there was something to the idea of
pureblood training.

His dad reached out and plucked a lily that had petals that started out a deep maroon near the center
and changed into a bright yellow at the tips. He tucked it behind Harry’s ear with a smile.

“It worked.” Draco said, staring down at his now pristine arm. “Potter how…”

“People love you Malfoy. Your mum, Blaise, and Pansy.” Harry said shrugging. “I figured, if there
are people who care that much about you, then you probably weren’t so terrible. Made it easy.”

That made Draco roll his eyes and caused Ron to smirk.

“Well. Thank you.” He said.

“Oh, don’t mention it.” Harry said. “I was just paying you back for earlier.”

That made Draco’s face go slack again in shock and then his entire face reddened in fury.

“How dare you.”

“Wot?”

“I’d just repaid that stupid debt and now you’ve gone and shoved me right back in!” He shouted. “I
ought to hex you for this!”

“Oh come on Malfoy.” Ron said. “This calls for congratulations.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’ve just joined a very exclusive club.” He said. “Welcome abord bloodtraitor.”
Draco groaned at that which made Harry burst into laughter again. They’d done it. They’d won this
battle and Harry had found a new avenue to explore his soul magic. This wasn’t a power so foreign
to him he couldn’t ever divine what it did. No. It was him and it was his and it was love.

“You’re on the team now I’m afraid.” Hermione said. “But I’m not going to apologize for
punching you. You deserved that.”

“Aren’t the good guys supposed to be kind?”

“That’s Harry’s job.” Hermione said. “We get to the be the teeth.”

“Huh.”

Harry frowned at Hermione for suggesting that he wasn’t capable of being his own teeth, he’d
punched his dad in the face after all, she’d just lifted up an eyebrow to remind him that he’d just
destroyed a dark mark for the first time in history with the power of love.

Well fine.

Harry wasn’t going to be ashamed. He’d just figured out how he was going to defeat Voldemort.
He was going to love. Tyr’s words finally made sense. He’d been chosen for a reason, he had his
mother’s heart and he was going to follow it.

“Excuse me?” Someone said. Harry turned to see a woman in periwinkle robes standing at the
bottom of the steps. “Mr. Potter?”

“That’s me.” Harry said. “Do you need any help?”

“Well. I’m Maria Bloodworth, from the Daily Prophet.” She said making Harry grimace just
slightly. She noticed and sighed. “I know you’ve had run-ins with us before, Miss Skeeter tends to
make a bit of an impression.”

“I don’t really want to give a statement…”

“Promise you won’t use a quick quill.” Draco cut in looking at her with a deadly calculation in his
eyes. “A magical oath for an honest representation of events and you’ll get a statement from him.
Anything else and you’re out of luck. If you try to print about him anyway, I will sue.”

“Malfoy.” Harry hissed, but Draco ignored him.

Bloodworth opened her mouth but Draco cut her off again.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. It’s been the law for 3 centuries that all
lords and ladies have the right to demand accurate representation in media.” He said. “And if you
violate pureblood law again the Malfoy Clan will involve themselves.”

She nodded a little looking a bit put out.

“Yes, Lord Malfoy.”

“Then give the promise and ask your questions. Can’t you see we’ve had a trying day?”

What was he doing? Harry looked at Draco feeling quite alarmed by the turn this had taken.

“Of course.” She said. “I, Maria Bloodworth, swear on my magic to present the facts honestly as
they are given to me about this attack on Diagon Alley.”
When the oath took hold, Draco stared at her for a moment, sniffed, and then gave a decisive nod.

“She’s good. Ask your questions.”

Which is how Harry ended up giving his first fair interview, or rather Draco answered the
questions for him in a very snobby tone that made Harry look like he was some sort of saint and
Voldemort like he was the mud beneath Draco’s expensive boots. Bloodworth clearly didn’t enjoy
the run around Draco was so expertly giving her. When she asked about the absence of Albus
Dumbledore, Draco snorted and pointed out that the dear headmaster was getting quite old and that
while his aid was always welcome, it was time for the new generation to rise up. (He somehow
managed to imply that the war was as bad as it was because Dumbledore was incompetent without
actually saying anything of the sort).

When she asked about the presence of the muggles in Diagon, Draco had asked who she thought
would have the might to stand up against the Dark Lord but a team that had a god on their side.

On and on it went. His dad smirked at Draco’s cunning while the golden trio just stared at Draco
as if he’d grown an extra head.

She asked why Draco, a well known Voldemort sympathizer, was siding with Harry Potter of all
people. Draco had shown her his clean forearm and spoke with devastating exactness.

“The Dark Lord marked me his without my consent. Potter freed me. That’s what he’s here to do.”
Draco said. “He’s here to free us, I say we let him.”

Eventually the interview drew to a close, as they’d spoken, aurors had arrived to arrest captured
death eaters and magic users were working together to begin on the most needed repairs. Healers
from St. Mungo’s were carefully healing up anyone they could find. All of the Avengers had
gathered around them, sporting a few injuries but overall looking quite pleased with themselves.

“May I have one direct quote Mr. Potter? For the headline I mean? Just about how you feel about
your role in the war.”

“Uhm. Yeah.” Harry said. He had no idea what to say but Draco’s lifted eyebrow made it clear
he’d better figure it out quick. He swallowed and spoke carefully. “My entire life has been defined
by this war, it took my family, it took my childhood. But I’ve…I’ve decided it’s not going to take
anymore. I’m going to fight for peace, for freedom, because I love this world and all the people in
it. So yeah. It’s time right now to stand up for our families and our beliefs. It’s time to end this war
once and for all.”

Maria was staring at him with wide brown eyes. He swallowed awkwardly.

“Was that okay?”

“What? Yes of course it was perfect. Thank you so much Lord Potter. I best get to writing this if
it’s going to make it for the morning papers.”

The next morning Harry looked at the front page of the Daily Prophet. Someone had managed to
get a picture of him as he was getting rid of Draco’s dark mark. His entire body was bathed in
purple light and around him the flowers were blooming up out of the stone steps in response to his
magic. His dad was outside of the frame, only the hand he had over his was visible while Ron,
Hermione, and Draco were on full display.

The title on the article?

The New Leader of the Light: Harry Potter, a Champion for all?

Harry pretended not to notice Dumbledore’s glare.

 Goblin Banks and Dumbledore
Chapter Summary

Harry receives a vague summons from Gringotts, has a peaceful class time, is
confronted by Dumbledore, and learns about methods of immortality.

Chapter Notes

Hey ya'll! I am putting in a CW here. Harry learns about horcruxes and I put in my
own HC about how they're made and while I don't go into explicit detail it might gross
some people out. I don't think it will bother most people but warnings are always
helpful! If you don't want to read that for your own comfort, then don't read the
italicized text near the end of the chapter. It's three of paragraphs from a book, you
should know it when you get to it. Just skip the italics and continue to read and you
should be a-okay! You won't have missed anything super plot relevant so you can rest
easy!
<3

Dear Lord Potter,

We hereby give you a summons to Gringotts Bank.

Please arrive this Saturday at 3pm.

Cordially,

Ricbert, Chief of Gringotts.

Harry looked at the letter that had been delivered to his scrambled eggs that morning with
something like consternation. A very regal Eagle Owl had dropped it right onto his plate and Harry
had barely managed to catch it so that the parchment wasn’t stained with whatever made his eggs
eggy.

“What is it Harry?” Hermione asked.

“Not sure. Here.” Harry said handing the parchment to his friend who took it and read the short
note quickly. Ron looked over her shoulder and did the same.

“Huh.” Hermione said. “That’s…odd.”

“Rare that.” Ron remarked. “Goblins don’t like meeting with wizards.”

“Can you blame them?” Hermione sniffed. “It’s not like we humans have done a whole lot of
kindnesses towards them. They’re lucky they managed to avoid the same fate as the House Elves.”
“Still.” Ron said not arguing the point. They didn’t need to start Hermione on the House Elf thing
either. “Doesn’t mean it’s not weird. What did you say to them Harry?”

“Just that I’d defend the bank for ‘em.”

Hermione winced and Harry corrected himself.

“I told them that it was a human problem and that while they could definitely take on Death Eaters
they shouldn’t have to.” Harry said. “It’s not fair, asking the other races to clean up our messes,
especially when our messes hurt them the most.”

“Hmmm.” Hermione mused. “Did you say anything else?”

“Gave ‘em a magic vow. Just something so they knew I was serious, that I’d do my best to defend
the bank that day and I did. Vow dispersed once Tom left Diagon.” Harry said. He hadn’t noticed
at the time, there was far too much going on, but he had felt the hold the vow had taken on him
flutter away once he’d done what he’d promised. He was glad that it wasn’t a vow that required
more long term action, he’d hoped that he’d done the wording right to avoid that.

“Well maybe they want to thank you?” Hermione suggested.

“I dunno.” Ron said. “Goblins don’t really…I mean they can, not saying they’re not civilized but
they don’t like humans. Why would they break centuries of tradition just for Harry? Vow or not.”

“I may have given them my name.” Harry said his voice a bit lower than normal. “You know, my
name.”

“Oh.” Hermione said. “Oh.”

“That changes it.” Ron said. “Cause you’re not…well you know.”

“But does it change it enough?” Harry wondered. “And I still don’t know what they want to talk to
me about.”

“How are you even going to go, you’ve got training on Saturdays.”

Harry shrugged. He didn’t want to miss training with Tyr but this seemed like the sort of thing he’d
be mad to skip.

“Maybe I could move training to Sunday?” Harry suggested. “Or only go to half of it?”

“Should you even go at all?” Ron asked. “The goblins could be really mad at you for fighting in
their place. They’re a warrior culture.”

“Hiding from them won’t do any good would it?” Hermione asked. “Harry made a choice and now
the goblins want to talk.”

They continued to mull over it throughout the entire breakfast and even as they made their way to
class together, they’d all gotten into transfigurations after all. As they walked Draco joined their
side, since he was also in that class. Things had been very, very weird since Harry had gotten rid of
Draco’s dark mark.

Not to say that Draco wasn’t the same person he was before but there was something so
intrinsically different about how he treated Harry.

“Potter.” He said instead of Scarhead. “You got a letter?”

“Uhm. Yeah.” Harry said holding out the roll of parchment. “What do you make of this?”

Draco took the roll, read the short letter, and made a ‘humph’ noise. Then he handed the roll back
to Harry and sniffed in a very snobby way.

“Obviously you’re going.”

“I am?”

“Do you even know who wrote that letter?”

“Uh the head of the bank?” Harry said trying to remember the name, it had started with an ‘R’
right?

“The goblins have two leaders.” Hermione said. “The chief of the bank and their king.”

“Exactly.” Draco said. “The second in command of the goblin nation asked to speak with you.
You’re a prince and so technically is he, even if they don’t know that. If you don’t go, you’d cause
all sorts of political problems, wouldn’t you?”

Harry shifted uneasily at the idea of acting as a prince of anything and Draco rolled his eyes.

“Potter. You’re not causing another goblin war. You’re going.”

“But what do they want to talk about?”

“What does it matter?” Draco asked. “Either they’re upset you defended them, or they want
something from you. Either way you have to go to know.”

“That’s not very snakey of you is it?” Ron asked. “Come on, aren’t you supposed to be the self-
preservation one? I give Harry strategy advice, Hermione gives him the theory and you’re
supposed to keep him in one piece.”

“That’s a lost cause and we all know it.” Draco sniffed.

Harry didn’t stumble like the first time he’d heard Draco tell a joke in good fun but he still felt as if
he ought to. Ron and Hermione had taken to Draco’s change in attitude with their usual antics.
Hermione had decided that Draco was now a rival in potions and that had somehow ended up with
the two of them over-studying potions in the library and sending barbed looks at each other in
potions class. Something that Harry could only imagine as he wasn’t actually in that class.

Ron and Draco had gotten into one more fist fight three days after the dark mark’s removal and
now they had no problems with each other at all. Ron seemed to, in some strange way, consider
Draco an alright wizard, even if he was a Malfoy. And Draco in his inscrutable fashion had decided
that Ron was a decent bloke, even if he was a Weasley. Ron had also written home to his family
and told them that he and Draco were on the same side now and that Draco would be coming home
with him and Harry and Hermione for Christmas.

And thus, a blood feud that had lasted 2 centuries had ended without so much as a how-do-you-do.

Harry and Draco were not as lucky as all that. The first Quidditch Match wasn’t for another few
weeks and they had few classes together. The only time Harry and Draco truly interacted was in the
DA. Draco tutored kids in potions, dueling, and charms and Harry tutored in dueling, charms, and
potions. They tried to keep their griping at each to a minimum and neither of them actually knew
how to talk to each other without insulting the other.

Occasionally Draco would try out a joke about Harry’s Gryffindor characteristics that lacked any
true malice and it would feel quite odd to hear. Draco was just as discomfited, at least Harry hoped.
After all Harry had saved his life with the power of love so there was a whole lot of…

Well it was weird.

They didn’t necessarily have the anger needed to goad each other into midnight duels and cruel
insults but they also lacked the sort of relationship Harry had with any of his other friends.

Draco was his rival. Sort of.

His dad thought the whole thing was very funny. His dad had in fact decided that it was good Harry
and Draco were working together, Draco had the skill that all three of them lacked, which was
diplomacy. Which was why Harry knew he’d be going to see the goblins, wearing whatever it was
Draco decided wasn’t terrible in his trunk with a roll of parchment’s worth of notes about how not
to start an incident with the goblins.

They got to class and settled in their customary seats. Harry absently rubbed at his scar. It had been
paining him in slight ways ever since the fight at Diagon. His dad’s protection was strong enough
that for the most part Harry didn’t even notice the pain but sometimes there would be a flash of
something as if Harry had pulled a muscle in his forehead somehow. Voldemort was incensed and
more mad than usual, unable or unwilling to think clearly. The death of his snake had really
weighed on him.

Harry didn’t think it was mourning a lost love sort of thing.

He knew what that sort of anger was like. He’d felt it when Sirius had fallen through the veil.
Voldemort was still more than capable of casting a cruciatus or five. Beyond that, Harry thought,
when he got these flashes that he detected a hint of fear beneath the rage.

But what was he afraid of?

“You alright?”

“It’s nothing.” Harry told Ron. “He’s not doing anything…travelling I think.”

“Hmm.” Ron nodded a little.

Harry was getting much better at discerning things from the flashes he got. He wasn’t an expert in
mind magic by any means, but his dad was quite good, and some of the spells his dad had placed
on him to protect him allowed Harry to translate these attacks better than he’d ever been able to
before. It wasn’t perfect, and sometimes a flash was just a flash. Besides Voldemort was literally
always angry, hard to explain to others that he just had another flash of the same old ‘I want to
watch the world burn at my feet’ rage.

McGonagall walked in and started the lesson on large scale transfigurations. Harry removed his
quill from his bag, along with his ink pot and his parchment and started to take notes. He actually
wanted to do well this year. It was the first time in his whole life he had someone to show his
grades to and he found he wanted to show his dad and the rest, good grades. Thus, he was trying a
bit harder than he normally would have.

Hermione still despaired about his procrastination though.

Class passed peacefully.

A thought Harry never thought he’d think.

When they were let out with a new essay due in two weeks time Harry had almost but not quite
forgotten about the goblins or the flash of pain he’d felt in his scar. He’d no clue where Voldemort
was traveling but it didn’t feel close nor did he feel angry enough to be starting an attack.

Hermione went downstairs with Draco to Potions and Ron clapped Harry on the back telling him
he’d see him at lunch before going up for divination. Harry, well used to being on his own by this
point, decided to swing down to the kitchens and get some extra food before doing some training
on the seventh floor.

He didn’t expect to be waylaid on the way there by Dumbledore.

The Headmaster was wearing purple, slightly iridescent robes, and his customary half moon
spectacles. Harry felt a stab of rage that he wished he could blame on the scar. He swallowed and
hardened his jaw.

“Headmaster.” He said, intent on walking right past the man.

“Mr. Potter. You don’t have any more classes for the rest of the day.”

“Yes, but I do have things to do so if you’d let me…”

“We need to talk.”

“We really don’t.”

“I have information that is relevant to your efforts, you would do well to put aside your pride and
listen to me.”

“If you have information then you should share it with my dad.” Harry said. “We don’t need to be
talking directly to each other.”

“This is very serious information, it shouldn’t be spread around to just anyone. While you may
choose to share it with whom you wish I will only share it with you.”

Harry didn’t growl but it was a very near thing.

“Fine. Talk.”

“Perhaps we should go to my-”

“I’m not going to your office alone.” Harry said. “I’m not.”

Dumbledore frowned but waved a hand casting a privacy charm over them. Then the man asked
Harry to walk with him.

“Mr. Potter.” Dumbledore said. “I know you may feel very angry with me right now.”

Harry snorted, there was no may about it.

“But you must understand that I did what I thought was best for you and for your father.”

“What?” Harry demanded.

“Your father was not well when he came to me. You cannot imagine, he appeared unhinged.”
Dumbledore said. “And you were in my care. I feared what such an instable man would do to an
infant in his care.”

“My dad loves me.” Harry said. “And he wouldn’t have hurt me. He would have taken me to
Asgard and-”

“And what would that have led you to?” Dumbledore asked. “Mr. Potter you’ve discovered great
power that you never would have managed in Asgard.”

“I…”

“You were able to destroy a Dark Mark with the power of love and compassion. That is not
something you would have learnt if you had been sent to Asgard.”

“You don’t know that.” Harry said.

“Harry.” Dumbledore said looking at him with sparkling blue eyes. “You know Asgard now don’t
you? Tell me, do you believe such a war-loving race would have allowed you to be as you are.
They would have made you into a killer my boy, like they’ve done with every other demi-god
before you.”

“That’s not, they wouldn’t have done that.”

“No? What was the first they did to you when you got there? They put a sword in your hand, my
boy. They have expectations that you use it.”

Harry flinched, a tiny microscopic flinch, and Dumbledore spotted it. It wasn’t fair to have his fears
laid out by Dumbledore, it really wasn’t. Even with Tyr’s new teaching style, that didn’t mean he
couldn’t tell that everyone in Asgard wanted him to be more aggressive. But Harry couldn’t, he
couldn’t. He was so powerful now, what sort of person would he be if he used that power against
the people around him?

There had to be another way.

There had to be.

Dumbledore’s eyes smiled a bit and he continued.

“See? You were better off here on earth. Your greatest strength is your compassion, your capacity
to forgive. I know about your conversation with Professor Snape.”

Oh. Harry swallowed and looked down at the ground. That hadn’t been something he’d told
anyone. It had felt too personal, too…open. It wasn’t that he felt ashamed of what he’d done, he
still felt good about letting go of that frustration. But it did make him feel small to know that
Dumbledore had known about it, that he approved in some way. For some reason that knowledge
made that moment, something that had made Harry feel good now felt dirty, tainted. As if he ought
to be ashamed of forgiving Snape because Dumbledore liked it.

It hadn’t occurred to him that Snape would tell anyone.

Why had Snape told Dumbledore?

“What did you want to tell me?” Harry asked.

“I believe I know how Tom was able to survive that Halloween night.” Dumbledore said.

“Oh.”

“Tell me Harry, what do you know of horcurxes?”

Nothing. Harry didn’t know anything about that, which based on the look in Dumbledore’s eyes,
the old man already knew about Harry’s ignorance. He didn’t say anything and Dumbledore
sighed. They were very close to the kitchen now. They paused outside the painting that led inside
and Dumbledore told him, he told him what horcruxes were and why he thought Voldemort had
made some.

The diary, the young Tom Riddle.

Dumbledore left Harry with a pat on the back.

“I’m so glad you were willing to listen to me, dear boy. You are so kind. I know you’ll do the right
thing.”

And so Harry stood there, swaying and reeling with disgust and horror.

How many horcuxes had Voldemort made?

And what did Dumbledore mean by the right thing?

He forgot about the food he’d been planning to get, he forgot about everything except for the book
he’d stolen from Malfoy Manor and hid under his bed. He went right up to Gryffindor Tower trying
to keep himself from falling over.

Perhaps in another world he wouldn’t feel so very horrified by the idea of a horcrux. It wasn’t like
Dumbledore had told him the exact details of how one was made. Without the knowledge his dad
had given him, Harry would have been disturbed but knowing what he now knew. Having an
understanding of what a soul was, what it would take to split something so sacred.

Harry had only ever successfully used soul magic once and he’d done it as an act of love.

Knowing what Voldemort had done with the same sort of magic made him want to vomit.

He tripped on his way into his room. He wandlessly summoned the book from where he’d shoved
it away and fell onto his bed. He pulled the curtain carefully around to give himself some privacy
and told himself to calm down. There might not even be any information on horcruxes in the stupid
book and even if there was, he would need to know. Even if it horrified him. He had to know.

Carefully he opened up the leather tome, wrinkling his nose at the dark sensation the leather left on
his fingers. The entire book felt heavy in his hands, even as strong as he was. Dumbledore had told
him that there were only a few books in existence that even spoke of horcruxes for they were so
dark. Harry wondered if that was what made this one feel so awful in his hands. As if just the
presence of that knowledge was enough to taint the thick pages.

He didn’t bother reading anything, just filtering through pages and hoping his eyes would just
magically pick up the words he needed to see. This was the first time Harry was willingly reading a
book instead of asking Hermione to do it for him. He felt suddenly very protective of his friend, the
idea of asking Hermione to expose herself to something so dark and toxic made him shiver. He
knew it was ridiculous, but he couldn’t help it.
The book was written as a how-to guide, in the same tone that someone would write a cookbook or
gardening manual. There was no judgement or incrimination, no condemnation for the reader who
was willing to go to such lengths to avoid death. Each section focused on the pros and cons of a
new method of immortality. There were dark diagrams and annotated images showing in far too
explicit detail how to go about this newest method. Harry tried his best not to actually take in any
of that information, banishing every word that entered his mind as far as he could.

He didn’t know how long he flipped pages until he found the section he was looking for.

He almost wished he hadn’t.

The horcrux is a widely forgotten method of immortality. It lacks certain benefits to other methods;
namely longevity of the body. It does contain one undeniable benefit, immunity to death. No
wounds can kill a being who has created a horcrux; no magic, no attack, no accident can end in
death. It will require the creation of a new body every century, but it provides protection that few
other methods can.

Creating a horcrux requires two things, an act of true hatred and an object to store the soul piece.
Any item can be a horcrux, once the soul piece is inserted, the horcrux becomes immune to most if
not all forms of damage as a soul cannot truly be destroyed. Nor can a soul piece be removed from
the object once insertion is completed. The object would be destroyed in the process of removal.
Only two forms of magic are known to destroy horcruxes. First the venom of a basilisk and
secondly fiendfyre. As basilisks have been extinct in the nine realms for centuries this first is not a
concern. Protection against fiendfyre can be enchanted onto the horcrux after creation.

Creating a horcrux requires an act of true hate.

First, the creator of the horcrux must kill an innocent being. This victim must be as innocent as
possible, a blemish free sacrifice, it cannot have participated in any other similar longevity rituals
and it must be of the same species as the castor. Human to human, goblin to goblin, etc. The magic
of that victim must mingle with the chosen object, how this is done is up to the castor. Then, the
body of the victim must be, in some way, consumed. Most commonly the heart of the victim is
eaten, then, with this act of desecration, the soul will begin to splinter.

From there-

Harry stopped reading. He slammed the book shut and let it fall to the floor. He held a hand up to
his mouth and tried to stop himself from vomiting. He shouldn’t have read it. Those words would
never leave his mind, the images they conjured up.

The diary was a horcrux and oh Myrtle. Poor Myrtle.

Tears stung his eyes and he swallowed back the sharp acid that his convulsing stomach had sent
up. He couldn’t stop his body from shaking and he found that he was so horrified by what he’d
read that his mind was forcibly disconnecting from his body. He didn’t realize he was panicking
until he heard a tapping on his window, a very loud insistent tapping. He managed to peek out
through his curtains and spotted Hedwig looking very determined to get inside.

Harry twitched his fingers causing the window to open and Hedwig flew directly towards him,
landing on his knee and cooing at him in concern. Harry coughed as he tried to calm his breathing.
Hedwig hopped forward and started to preen his hair with her beak. Eventually Harry found he was
able to breath again, he did this by gently petting Hedwig in return and forcing himself not to think.

“Thanks girl.” Harry said.

She chirped.

“I think I need to talk to my dad. Can you send him a message without being seen?”

She tugged a bit harder than necessary on his hair which Harry knew meant that he’d offended her
some at the suggestion that she couldn’t do something so simple. Harry grinned, feeling a bit
better, even as covered in sweat as he was.

“Alright.” Harry said. “Let me just write out a note then.”

He didn’t do that immediately. Instead he stayed there, curled up with his pet owl and wondered
why anyone would go to the lengths Tom Riddle had to avoid death.
 Father-Son Conversations
Chapter Summary

Loki talks to Harry and helps him clear up all of the waters Dumbledore attempted to
muddy.

Chapter Notes

PhD applications are in! I am free! Here's an update to celebrate! Now I'm going to eat
some orange chicken and relax!

Loki was prepared for the knocking.

He opened his door and was unsurprised to see nothing standing in the entry way. He just shrugged
theatrically, left a spot large enough for his son to sneak by beneath the invisibility cloak. Once he
felt the air displace around him, he knew his son had gotten inside so he closed the door and let it
lock with a snap of his fingers. Harry was already ripping the cloak off and rushing at him for a
hug.

The force from his son’s hug was enough to drive the air out of his lungs but Loki ignored that and
focused on hugging his son back. Harry was shaking in his arms, a sensation Loki had never
wanted to feel and never wanted to feel again.

“Oh what’s wrong Starlight?”

Harry just shook his head and Loki frowned. His son wasn’t crying so much as he was panicking.
Loki carefully ushered his son over to the couch and got both of them situated as comfortably as he
could while Harry was clinging to him.

What had happened?

Loki had no clue. All he knew was that his son had sent him a message with Hedwig saying he
needed to talk to him tonight. So Loki had been prepared, he’d had a list of potential conversation
topics. Perhaps his son had a new love interest? (or a first love interest, he had no clue if there was
someone who’d already stolen his son’s heart.) Maybe it was about that letter he’d received that
morning? But no, something had clearly frightened his son. Loki asked if he was in pain, if it was a
vision and Harry shook his head.

“Alright. Alright.” Loki said. “We’ll sit here for as long as you need.”

As long as Harry needed ended up being about 20 minutes. They sat on the couch until Harry’s
shivers and gasps faded. Loki didn’t let his son up though, just shifted around so that they were
seated more comfortably, with Harry resting his head on Loki’s shoulder.

“I talked to Dumbledore today.”

“That bastar-”

“Dad.” Harry sighed. “I can’t…I can’t do this if you’re going to be angry.”

Loki paused at that and then forcibly relaxed his body from where he’d stiffened up in outrage.
Loki had made it very clear that Dumbledore wasn’t meant to speak to Harry unattended, Harry had
requested that specifically. Loki had no clue what sort of relationship Harry and Dumbledore had
had before but it was obvious now that Harry didn’t trust Dumbledore enough to be alone with
him. And for good reason!

“I’m sorry.” Loki said. “I’m not upset with you.”

“I know I just…” Harry sighed. “It wasn’t him that upset me. I mean it was at first but that’s not
why. He told me something that I needed to know, and he said some other stuff too but its not as
important as what I need to tell you.”

“Do you want to tell me about all of it?” Loki asked. “It might help?”

“Can I just…ask you some questions? He said some things and I know they’re not true but I’m…
I’m afraid they might be.”

It would probably be simpler if Harry would just tell him his fears, but Loki could understand not
wanting to be misled. It was probably hard enough as it was talking about it sideways like this. He
nodded and snapped his fingers summoning two mugs of aesir tea for the two of them. Harry took
his floating mug, sipped once, and then spoke.

“Do you think…Is forgiveness wrong?”

“Wrong?” Loki asked before shaking his head. “No. I don’t imagine so.”

“But you don’t forgive people.” Harry pointed out. “You haven’t forgiven anyone as long as I’ve
known you. You’re still angry at Thor, Odin, Frigga, Dumbledore, Snape, Umbridge, and who
knows who else.”

“I’ve forgiven Thor.” Loki argued.

“Does he know that?”

“I…alright point taken.” Loki said. He and Thor hadn’t really talked about their past, Loki had
been more focused on the present, on his son, and he’d been willing to accept Thor’s support
without requiring the difficult conversations the two of them probably needed. “I’m not the
forgiving sort.”

“But why?” Harry pushed. “If it’s the right thing, then why don’t you do it? Why doesn’t anyone?”

“People forgive.”

“Do they?” Harry asked sitting up, sounding suddenly agitated. “Because other than me I’ve never
seen anyone else bother with it! It feels like everyone else has figured something out that I haven’t
and that I’m just some stupid kid making dumb mistakes.”

“Harry…”

“And why is forgiveness childish anyway? What’s wrong with letting things go? Why do adults
have to be angry and hate everything and everyone all the time?”
“We don’t.” Loki cut. “None of us have to do that. We chose to.”

“But why?”

“Part of it is cynicism. It’s difficult to forgive someone without allowing them the chance to hurt
you again.” Loki said. “My relationship with Odin is like that. He broke my trust severely and I
fear that if I forgave him, he’d do it all over again. I hold that grudge to protect myself. Yes, maybe
I’d be happier and freer if I forgave Odin and reunited my family but maybe, maybe it would break
my heart all over again. I don’t know and because I don’t know I don’t forgive.”

Harry finally looked at him, his green eyes sharp and only slightly wet. Loki continued. He
reached out and took one of his son’s hand in his own, letting his own mug float next to him.

“Forgiveness is also hard. Forgiving Thor, fully and completely, would mean talking to him about
it. Thor and I have never been good with those sorts of conversations so I let our hurt feeling festers
rather than doing the difficult work needed to truly heal it.” Loki said. “And then there are people
like Dumbledore and Tom Riddle.”

“What about them?” Harry asked.

“Some people don’t deserve compassion Harry.”

His son flinched at that and Loki frowned.

“But how can you know that?” He asked. “How can you be sure?”

“Dumbledore has caused you untold amounts of harm. His decisions have harmed so many and he
doesn’t seem to feel any regret. What about that screams deserving of compassion?”

“The Dursleys didn’t think I deserved compassion.”

“They were wrong.”

“How do you know you’re not?”

“Don’t conflate the two.” Loki said, perhaps a bit more sharply than he intended. His son looked
away. Loki reached out and moved his chin so that he was looking Loki in the eye again. “We are
two beings capable of logical thought. You and Dumbledore are in no way moral equivalents.
Dumbledore is an adult man with over a century of experience to teach him that abusing children is
wrong. You were a child in need of protection who was abused. It’s not the same. You don’t think
it is, what do you really fear?”

“What if I choose not to forgive someone and they could have been better?” Harry asked. “What if
I’d not forgiven Draco? What would have happened to his mum or him? And I don’t want to be
angry and hurt all the time dad. I just…I’m so tired sometimes dad. I’m tired.”

He sounded tired. The fire in his voice fading to something that sounded weary and old. Like Odin
old.

“I was angry at you.” Harry said. “And I punched you but it didn’t help. I felt awful after. Anytime
I try and think about Tom or Dumbledore I just…I’m tired. And Dumbledore made me feel bad
about forgiving people. He made me feel small and stupid and I just…I don’t even know what I’m
meant to do.”

“I won’t say something silly like follow your heart.” Loki said making Harry snort. “I will tell you
something though.”

“What?”

“You can forgive someone while still punishing them. It’s not a black and white choice between
forgiveness and condemnation, there’s a third option.”

Harry turned then and looked at Loki with a question in his eyes.

“If a child misbehaves and breaks a vase, a parent will probably ground them for a day or two.
They might even be upset if the vase was important. But they’ll forgive the child while also
delivering a punishment to fit the infraction.” Loki explained. “Do you think Molly Weasley
doesn’t forgive Fred and George for their daily nonsense, even as she punishes them for doing it?”

“Oh.” Harry said.

“You can forgive whomever you want Harry.” Loki said. “It’s probably better for you to let go of
that anger, to let yourself heal in a way I’m much too cowardly to do for myself. But that doesn’t
mean that people who do the wrong thing shouldn’t be punished. They should. Justice has to be
served to those who are wronged just as mercy should be offered to all who want it.”

“But what’s the difference between judgement and revenge?”

“Timing, I think. Justice is generally swift you know. Justice also usually goes along with the law
while revenge doesn’t. What I did to Umbridge, that was revenge. What will happen to her when
she confesses to her crimes will be justice.”

“How can I have justice then?” Harry asked. “Dumbledore didn’t break any laws he just… said
things. Is anything I do against him revenge? How can it be right?”

“Sometimes revenge is justified Starlight.” Loki said. “It’s okay to be angry. That’s not a sin.”

“I don’t like it.” Harry said. “It feels…dirty.”

“I don’t know what part of your life lead you to dislike your own feelings but I’d ask you to do
your best to ignore it. Bruce Banner ignores his anger and you can see what sort of complex he has
going on.”

That actually made Harry laugh, a real laugh, that relaxed Loki far more than anything else could
have. His son leaned back against the couch, when the laughter faded a frown returned to his face.

“I want to do the right thing. I know Dumbledore and Tom will hurt more people if left alone.
They’ll hurt me again. They’ll hurt anyone they can find but I just…I don’t want to hurt anyone. I
never want to.” Harry said. “I even argued for mercy for Peter Pettigrew! He didn’t deserve it! But
he got it and he used it to resurrect Tom!”

“This is never going to be easy to figure out. That’s part of being an adult.” Loki tried to comfort.

“Well I hate it.”

“I don’t blame you.” Loki said. “But I can promise you that I will always be here to offer my
advice. You can ask any of the Avengers too, ask as many people as you trust, good people, and
from there you can make your own choice.”

Harry nodded and fell silent, thoughtful. Eventually he changed the topic by telling Loki about the
letter from the goblins and how he’d need to move his training day so that he could not start
another goblin war. Loki didn’t think it was that serious, but he agreed that attending the goblin
meeting took precedence. He’d send a message to Tyr and explain, and they could do the training
on Sunday instead.

The conversation meandered around what Asgard was like for Loki growing up. Loki waxed old
about his childhood training and the feasts and the adventures he’d gone on as a young prince. At
first Harry had listened intently but Loki could tell his mind was still mulling over something else.

“Do you think I’d be different if you’d raised me on Asgard?”

“Of course.” Loki said, which was the wrong thing to say because Harry immediately frowned.
“That’s not to say I don’t like you as you are but you’d have had an entirely different upbringing,
some things would be different.”

“Good different or…”

“Just different. You might have a different favorite sweet for example.” Loki said, deciding not to
point out that Harry would be extremely different if he’d been raised in a home that didn’t abuse
and starve him.

“Dumbledore…he said being on earth was good for me. It made me kind that I wouldn’t have been
if you’d taken me.”

“Dumbledore is not a seer.” Loki said as calmly as he possibly could. “Nor does he get to take any
credit for how wonderful you are.”

“‘M not.”

“You are.” Loki insisted. “You are an absolute wonder, and that’s not because of Dumbledore’s
choices, that’s despite it.”

“You think?”

“I know.” Loki reached out and gave his son’s shoulder a squeeze. “Dumbledore’s choices put you
in some terrible positions in life and that could have made you a very bitter hateful young man.
You chose to be better despite that. There’s so much goodness in you Harry, so very much, and
whether you lived on earth, on Asgard, or even Hel, that would still be there. Dumbledore is lucky
you’re as lovely as you are, and he doesn’t get to claim that it was due to him. That was all you and
none of him.”

“Yeah.” Harry said. “I guess you’re right. It would’ve been nice too…being safe as a kid.”

“Yes. Yes it would have.”

Harry smiled a little, the weight having been lifted at least for a time. Loki knew things were far
from resolved but he also wasn’t so foolish as to believe one conversation would heal his son of his
various complexes. The point was that Harry had come to him about it instead of stewing over it on
his own. That was true progress he could thank the norns for. They went back to sipping their tea,
Harry asked Loki about his classes and how the other professors were. Loki asked Harry about his
school work and his assignments.

He felt like a dad then.

It was a very good feeling.

The night grew longer, and Harry seemed to have relaxed entirely. Problems with Dumbledore and
the goblins forgotten. Well Harry had forgotten them. Loki hadn’t. He would be talking to
Dumbledore about them once his son had gone to bed. Oh yes, they would talk. Loki replaced the
tea with aesir biscuits that his son was more than happy to have a large portion of.

“Was that all you needed to talk to me about?” Loki pushed.

“Oh. No.” Harry said. “Dumbledore wanted to talk about me about how Tom had become
immortal.”

“So he had a reason other than to ruin your day.”

“Yeah. Have you ever heard of horcruxes?”

“No.” Loki said. “It might surprise you but as a god I haven’t really had the need to study
immortality methods.”

Harry snorted as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a book, it had been shrunk but with one
shake it elongated itself to the proper size. Harry carefully opened the book to the page he’d left a
bookmark in.

“I stole this from Malfoy Manor. I thought it might have some clues since a lot of books Tom used
to have were left in Lucius Malfoy’s care. Dumbledore told me what Tom had done and I found
this here. Look.”

Loki took the book and began to glance at the words. Then when his mind actually caught up to
what he was looking at he started to actually read. He read the first page, once, twice and then
again. Then he turned the page, his mind racing as he considered the horrific implications of what
had just been revealed. Harry was sipping on tea and clearly trying to remain calm.

“I’m sorry you had to read this. No wonder you were…disturbed when you came here.”

“Why would anyone do that? Split their own soul.”

“I don’t know. I can’t imagine it.”

“And how many times did he do it?” Harry asked. “I already destroyed one, with the diary in my
second year but he had to have made more, he was still able to resurrect himself. He’s still here.
And he always will be if we can’t find them all. He could have made thousands, dad, millions.
Spread his soul out like sand on a beach!”

“No. No.” Loki said shaking his head. “A soul can only be split so many times.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I’ve studied soul damage like this, although it was never purposeful.” Loki said. “From what
I can recall a soul can’t be split into more than nine pieces. After that the soul pieces will begin to
disintegrate. Tom can’t have created more than eight. One soul piece is in him, one was in the
diary, that means there are no more than seven we have to find.”

“But they could be anywhere or anything.”

“Don’t panic. We’ll find them.” Loki said. “I think it’s time we set up a meeting with Eir. She’ll be
able to help us figure out a way to track the pieces. She’s the best soul magic user in the nine
realms.”
“Okay.” Harry said, calming himself with Loki’s promise. “Okay.”

“We’re going to figure this out. This is a good thing.”

“A good thing?”

“Yes. Now we have a plan. Talk to Eir, find the horcruxes, destroy them, and then Tom Riddle will
be mortal.”

“You’re right.” Harry said. “We have a plan.”

“That’s more than we had this morning.” Loki said. “Now you should head to bed Starlight. I’m
going to read a bit more in this, see if I can’t start designing some sort of tracking spell on my
own.”

It took a bit longer and one more hug before his son left but Loki was more than happy to let Harry
linger. Eventually though, his son yawned a few too many times and was forced to don his cloak
and sneak back to Gryffindor Tower. Once he was sure his son was gone, Loki made his own way
to the headmaster’s office. He didn’t bother speaking the stupid password at the statue. He glared
at it, a threat in his eyes, and the staircase opened without much fight.

He glided up the stairs, his footsteps silent and all the more menacing for it. When he got to the top
he was unsurprised to find Albus waiting for him.

“Give me one good reason not to kill you where you stand.” Loki snarled.

“It would disappoint your son.”

“He’d get over it.” Loki snarled. “I told you not to talk to him.”

“You can’t keep him from his destiny.”

“You are not his destiny old man.”

“No. But I know what is.”

“You know nothing.”

“I know what his scar is.”

Loki paused at that. Albus was staring at him, intricate wand pointed at Loki’s chest. Loki’s magic
still flamed, bright green and deadly in his hand.

“Think about it, James. It connects him to Tom. It gave him abilities that are normally only passed
through bloodlines. Almost as if a piece of Tom got left behind that night.”

“No.”

“Yes.” Albus said, his voice gentle and damning all in one. “Neither can live while the other
survives.”

“That’s not…it isn’t…”

“You’ve tried to remove the connection, but you couldn’t. You can’t. Magic like that isn’t undone
no matter how accidental.”
“You’re lying!”

“Am I?”

“You can’t make a horcrux accidentally! You need to prepare the object! You need to…to eat the
heart of a victim!”

“You probably didn’t check Lily’s body, but I did.” Dumbledore said. “Her heart was gone, an
empty hole in her chest. She gave it up to protect Harry from Tom, a heart consumed and with her
magic lingering in her son, that was all the preparation needed. Tom’s soul was already shredded
enough that the blocked killing curse was enough to make one more.”

Oh, Harry you have your mother’s heart.

Loki gagged a little and Albus didn’t go further. It took Loki longer than he would have liked to get
himself under control, but he managed it. He straightened up and sent Albus a cold glare.

“You’re still wrong.” Loki said.

“Am I?”

“My son isn’t going to die.”

“Then neither shall Tom.”

“We’ll see about that.”

 Chief Ricbert of the Goblins
Chapter Summary

Harry meets with the Goblin Chief. He tries not to think about his scar too much.
He fails.

Chapter Notes

ya'll. there has been so much hate for Dumbledore in the comments. It has fueled me. I
want to put it out there right now. I have a plan, a plan that I think is very good, about
how Dumbledore is going to pay for what he's done. You just have to trust me. It will
all be worth it in the end.
Revenge and Justice both will be ours!

Harry shifted awkwardly in his robes. Draco and his dad both had declared that nothing he
currently owned would be proper for a meeting with the goblins. Draco had, in his own words,
selflessly donated one of his old robes that just had to be magically adjusted to fit. The adjustments
were necessary because, once again in Draco’s own words, not everyone had such ridiculous
proportions.

Harry thought his proportions were fine and when he asked Hermione about it later she just rolled
her eyes and said he shouldn’t get a big head about it. Whatever that meant.

Not that Harry was able to give much thought to robes or proportions.

It felt to him like his friends were hyperfocusing on anything that wasn’t Voldemort related. Ron
only wanted to talk about quidditch and chess. Hermione would talk about anything she’d been
researching except things to do with Voldemort. Even Draco, annoying as he was, was tiptoeing
around him and the scar issue.

His dad, after telling him what Dumbledore had finally decided to reveal, had hugged him while he
panicked and promised he would fix this. Swore with everything he had that he’d find a way to
remove the horcrux and Harry had believed him, hugged him, and sequestered himself in a
bathroom somewhere to throw up in privacy for a few minutes. His dad had also, when Harry has
asked, explained to his friends what a horcrux was and why Harry had one in his scar.

His dad had also told the Avengers and sent an emergency message to Asgard to explain what
they’d learnt and the new light that cast on the prophecy. Frigga was going over the wording of the
prophecy to come up with as many accurate potential interpretations as possible and Eir had been
summoned to the palace for a consultation. Indunn was a notorious shut in and had declined the
previous invitation to the palace to meet with Harry claiming she was busy with her trees, but she
had agreed the moment the word horcrux had been spoken in Asgard.

It was all…a lot.

Like Harry knew Hermione was breaking into the restricted section and devouring any books she
could find about horcruxes along side his dad. He knew Hermione wasn’t as bothered by it as he
was. She thought it was disgusting and immoral, it horrified her, but she was able to push that to
the side where Harry couldn’t. Hermione was good at that. Granted Ron and him made sure she
didn’t go too deep and pulled her away from those dark books each day with her favorite teas and
an invitation to play chess or gobstones.

Harry knew things were being done to help him but at the moment there was nothing to do except
act as if he was fine, as if he didn’t know what made his scar the way it was.

It was difficult enough to do when his friends were so bad at it too.

And now he was standing inside Gringotts, in borrowed robes, feeling as if his scar was itching
even though it wasn’t actually, it was all in his head. It. Was in his Head. A shiver ran down his
spine.

“Mr. Potter.” A goblin greeted. “You are expected, follow me.”

“Of course.” Harry said following the nicely dressed goblin past the desks and through the crowds
of witches and wizards. Most of them were staring at him and muttering and Harry pretended he
didn’t hear their words.

He was doing a lot of pretending these days.

“Chief Ricbert will speak with you in the throne room.” The goblin said.

“Do I get to know about what?”

The goblin just gave him a look as if he were quite stupid and then led him further into the bank.
Right. Harry held back the sigh that wanted to erupt and followed. They went through about three
dozen different hallways and down two flights of stairs. Harry was quite disoriented by the time
the goblin stopped him in front of a very ornate door. It was made of a silver-y metal that warped
the light around it. There was no doorknob or obvious way to open the two large doors. The goblin
lifted up one finger and dragged his nail down the center, lava-like light erupted down the path he
drew, and Harry could hear strange noises clanking and groaning as the internal mechanisms of the
door were activated.

The door began to fold into itself, tessellating away from the center until there was nothing left but
an arch-like entry way. Harry looked inside the room and saw a throne on top of a dais. The walls
of the room looked like liquid silver they were so smooth, the floor was made up of polished
marble with gold veining, and the room was lit with strange lights that floated along the walls.

Harry had never seen anything like it.

Seated on the throne was Chief Ricbert Harry assumed. It was an older goblin wearing armor
similar to what Harry had seen the other goblins wearing the day of the attack. Harry didn’t know
much about the chief of Gringotts. Neither did Draco or Hermione. The goblins didn’t really like
sharing information with wizards after all.

“Chief Ricbert, Lady of the Forge, I introduce Haraldr Lokison, as you requested.”

Lady of the Forge?

“Come forward.” The goblin chief spoke. Harry swallowed and stepped into the room. The
moment he was inside the door unfolded itself behind him, sealing him inside with the chief. The
chief didn’t sound like a lady but then again Harry was pretty sure he’d never met a female goblin
before. Weird.

“Stop.” She ordered when he was only a few feet from her. This close Harry couldn’t really tell a
difference between her and the other goblin that had led him there. Wait? What if that goblin was a
girl too? Were all the goblins he’d met women?

Focus Harry. Focus.

“Chief Ricbert.” Harry said bowing low to her.

“You gave my people a vow. One fulfilled within the day.”

“Yes.” Harry agreed. “I believed that it was my…duty to protect your people from a problem
humans created. You shouldn’t have to suffer from our stupidity.”

She snorted.

“How noble of you. My people could have taken great slight at your impudence.” She said. “There
are still some who wish to. That one single puny human would dare tell us what we require, what
we should and should not do. It galls the blood.”

“I didn’t mean offense.”

“That much is obvious.” Ricbert said. “What is also obvious is that your intent does not matter.”

“Oh.”

“I have decided, Haraldr Lokison, that you may be of use to me and mine.”

“Ma’am I can’t just…”

“You should not deny me until you have been given the full offer, human. You stole the glory of
battle from my people and you lost the opportunity to learn why my nation was targeted. Despite
all of this I can tell that you did not do it to scorn us.”

Harry thought she said his intent didn’t matter. He decided to keep his mouth shut and listen.

“Many of the others in my kingdom did not wish to call you here. It is only because of your…
lineage that we are considering it.”

“My father?”

“Your mother, boy.” She corrected. “The magic she used to save you that night and destroy the
Dark Lord’s first body has not been seen in this land in centuries. It was believed to be a thing lost
to humans, lost to you for your greed and pride.”

“You know what magic she did?” Harry asked.

“I do.” She said. “It is an ancient magic, one created before war and before death existed in this
land. My people have legends of it’s use. We felt your mother use it 15 years ago and we are
interested in the product of such sacrifice and love.”

“Could you tell me this legend?” Harry asked. “I’ve never…”

“Perhaps another time.” She said. “For now, we must speak of our common enemy, Lord
Voldemort. Do not fear, his magic cannot reach us here in the depths.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that.” Harry said. “Do you remember the break-in you had five or six
years ago? That was led by him in an attempt to get his hands on the Philosopher’s Stone.”

And for the first time in this conversation, Harry saw true emotion pass over the goblin chief’s
face. It wasn’t a good emotion. Harry swallowed and continued.

“Voldemort’s shade had possessed a man by the name of Quirinus Quirrel and the two of them
together broke into your bank.” Harry said. “And he tried to do it again just last week, this time far
more powerful than ever before. I have some suspicions about why but I don’t know for sure.”

“So, this was not his first trespass.” Ricbert said. “That should appease the council, now boy, tell
me. Why did he target me and mine?”

“Have you ever heard of a horcrux?”

She had not.

Harry had to tell her. He had a feeling he wouldn’t like talking about it this time any more than he
had the first time.

His tongue felt dry as he carefully explained how Voldemort had survived this long and that he
could have created up to eight of the hocruxes in an attempt to secure his immortality.

“We know where one is.” Harry said, his hand spasmed as he forced himself not to rub at his scar.
“And I’ve already destroyed one more. If Voldemort learnt that I destroyed the diary then he might
be trying to gather the others to a more protected location now that he’s got a body again. Anyone
of his followers could have placed a horcrux in your bank for safekeeping. I don’t know that for
certain but it’s the only thing that makes…sense. Unless he’s just decided to start a war with you
because. He’s kind of crazy.”

“No wonder with the creation of such abominations!” She spat. “You believe one of those things to
be in my kingdom? Where it could harm my people?”

“Yes ma’am.” Harry said. “I…We’re trying to come up with a spell to find them but we don’t have
anything yet, I’m sorry.”

“That is intolerable. I will not allow such darkness to remain, no. We will do a search for dark
objects.”

“I might be able to help.” Harry offered. “I don’t mean any offense! It’s just my scar connects me
to Voldemort, parts of him make it hurt. If you find something that makes my scar hurt, that’s
probably a horcrux.”

She looked at him and then nodded. Harry watched as she clapped her hands and spoke in a
language he didn’t understand. To the left of him, a wall melted into mist and three goblins
entered. They all spoke with Ricbert in the same language and Harry just waited and tried not to
make his staring too obvious.

“How are Hocruxes destroyed?” She asked him.

“You need basilisk venom.”

“That’s useless, basilisks are extinct.”

“About that…” Harry said. “Do you all remember that sword that was made for Godric
Gryffindor?”

“The sword that was stolen from my people?”

“Yes.” Harry said. “I know it was meant to be returned to you after Godric’s death, I’m sorry that it
wasn’t. I used it to slay a basilisk 3 years ago and it got some of its venom on it. We’re hoping the
sword will be powerful enough to destroy the others we find. I know I should return it but…but I
can’t think of another way to destroy these things. Some books say fiendfyre will work but only if
they haven’t been enchanted against them.”

“If you purchase the sword from my people again, you may use it for the rest of your life.” She
said. “But only after it is returned and inspected. No goblin weapon has been without its people for
so long. You must understand, when a goblin forges a weapon, they add some of themselves to it,
it becomes a part of our nation, a member of a family.”

“Of course.” Harry said. He didn’t hesitate to offer to bring it back to them. He knew the sword
was important, and that nothing would do in its place. If the goblins decided he couldn’t use it
they’d have to go back down to the chamber of secrets and hope the basilisk’s fangs hadn’t
completely dried out. “I’ll go to where Godric hid it and bring it back to you as soon as I can.”

Harry looked at the four goblins and realized something else. It was something he and his dad had
talked about once and he’d tried not to think about too hard.

“I’m a demi-god. I might not have a human lifetime.” Harry said. “I don’t know if I’ll live for a
century or for a millennia yet. I want to purchase the sword I do but if it’s a part of your people
keeping it for my whole life might not be fair, it also might mean I only keep it for a year or two
depending on how this war plays out.”

She snorted again, this time sounding far more amused than anything.

“If you return the sword to me and mine every century and allow us to keep and care for it for one
year, you may keep it for the entirety of your lifetime, whether it be human or god-like. We will
create a contract with these terms once the sword has been returned.”

“Okay.” Harry agreed immediately. “And what is the price?”

“Voldemort’s head and the destruction of every one of his hocruxes.”

“You don’t want…money?”

“What good is money to a people like mine? No. I want results, Child of Lily. Kill Voldemort and
destroy his horcruxes, that is my price. You may use the sword as long as you are working towards
those goals and you may keep it if you complete them. If you fail, I will assume it is because of
your death and the sword will return to us. No one else will be allowed to purchase it.”

Right. Just like everything else in the world it seemed like only Harry could do this or that. He
sighed and nodded in agreement. Ricbert waved the other goblins away with a few more
instructions and then told him that she had orders for the goblins to begin to search the human
vaults for dark magical objects. Anything that could fit with what Harry had described would be
brought within an hour. Once it was brought Harry would leave with it and return within three days
with the sword.

After that Harry was shuffled to a different room with Ricbert, this one with a seat for him and a
desk for them to work between. This room was not as fancy as the throne room and the chair they
gave him was a bit too small but other than that he thought the nice dark wood of the walls was
pleasant to look at.

“My people wish to see Voldemort destroyed.” She said.

“That’s something we agree on then.”

“Good. I will speak to the council and to our king about what you have revealed today. When you
return with the sword I may have an offer for you beyond what I have already given.”

“The council?” Harry asked.

“Did you think us savages, human, that our king would rule without listening to the wants of our
people?”

“No! I was just curious!” Harry said rearing back. “I don’t know anything about your people, and I
don’t want to offend you anymore than I already have. But I can’t avoid doing that if I don’t know
anything.”

She looked at him with narrowed eyes, assessing him and his posture before she nodded again.

“The council is a weekly meeting where any citizen of our nation can speak to me and our king
about their concerns. Major leaders in various parts of our culture will converge to speak on behalf
of those they represent. It is with them we will discuss what must be done about Voldemort.”

“Okay.” Harry said. “Thank you for explaining.”

“Be honest. If you could ask for anything from us, what would it be?”

Harry paused at that. He didn’t know near enough about goblins to have an answer that wasn’t
immediately offensive. It reminded him of the conversation he had with the Americans where he
didn’t ask for anything at all. He knew that if he asked for nothing that he would offend them, that
that would probably come off as him pitying them. He’d learnt at least that much. So what to ask
for?

“If I could ask for anything, I think I’d ask for…for something after the war is done.”

“You would not ask for armies? For weapons?”

“I already have the one sword I need.” Harry said referencing Godric Gryffindor’s sword. “And
your people can fight whether or not I want them too. I wouldn’t dream of commanding them or
anything.”

“Then what would you dream of?”

“This war only happened because everything is so divided in our world.” Harry said. “And…and
after Voldemort is gone, I want to make it better. For everyone. I know you have your own
kingdom but the fact that most wizards treat you all so poorly isn’t right. I don’t know what sort of
future would look best for all of us, for your people and for mine, and I can’t know by myself.
Peace is only possible if we work together for it. So, I guess…I guess I’d ask for your patience?
I’m probably going to offend you again while I try to make things better, I might make things
worse before I make them better by accident so…yeah. Patience.”

“You believe in peace that much then?”

“It’s the only thing I want really.”

“I will pass your request onto the king.” She said coolly, not making it clear whether or not he’d
given a good answer. He shifted awkwardly.

It took the goblins a short amount of time to find a series of objects that could be horcruxes. They
brought them into the room within minutes of Harry’s request to Ricbert and soon Harry was
looking at objects, focusing his magic sense and recoiling at the darkness in each of them before
shaking his head and telling Ricbert that it was evil but not a horcrux.

It took 32 minutes and 17 different objects before a smaller goblin came in carrying a golden cup.
The moment it was in the room Harry hissed and leaned back in his chair.

“That’s it. That.” He said. “It’s got him all over it I swear.”

The goblin holding it immediately dropped it and jumped back, even Ricbert looked disturbed.
Harry wondered what they’d do if they knew he was just like that cup.

His scar itched and he rubbed at it.

“Could I have…like a bag to put it in?” Harry asked. “I don’t really want to touch it either.”

Ricbert nodded and ordered the smaller goblin in that foreign language. The goblin nodded and
quickly left, returning within seconds with a thick leather bag.

“It should keep the darkness within it.” She said. “Only open it when you intend to destroy it.”

“Okay.” Harry said watching the smaller goblin use magic to levitate the cup into the bag and tie
the bag securely shut. “I’ll bring you the sword in three days.”

“Three days.”

Harry left the bank, the bag hanging from off one shoulder. He felt the stares of the dozens of
goblins at the front desks of the bank on his back and shivered. He rubbed at his scar again.

He’d promised Ricbert the destruction of all the horcruxes.

What did that mean for him?

 Idunn of Asgard
Chapter Summary

Idunn agrees to leave her home in the mountains and meet with Odin and his family.
She doubts that she'll give them what they really want.

Chapter Notes

Hey! Important notice! In the past few chapters I've mixed up Eir and Idunn in my
writing. Eir is a healer and Idunn is the goddess who grows the golden apples. Idunn
is the soul magic user that Harry and Loki need the help from. I've fixed that flub in
the past chapter for future readers but just for all of you, here's some clarification!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

If there was one thing anyone should know about Idunn, it was that she was old

She was very, very old.

Perhaps even the oldest Aesir living today.

Most people knew she was old, but they did not really know how old. If you asked any Aesir how
old she was they’d get a disconcerted look on their face, shrug, and then explain that they didn’t
know, Idunn had always been there. To ask how old she was, was to ask how old the stones of their
mountains were. Granted, if it were a human that had asked, there was quite a good chance the
human would want to know how old the mountain was too.

Aesir thought that humans were very silly for asking questions like that.

But then again, perhaps it was the gods for being so silly as to have all this time on their hands and
no answers to show for it.

Still. Idunn was old.

She didn’t look old.

That was trick of it at the end of the day. That she was old, ancient and weary, but she looked
young and spring-like. She had many names and had been given many titles through her illustrious
life, all of which she’d done her best to cast away with. She’d been called the goddess of spring, of
rejuvenation, of life, of youth, of…well of lots of things.

She looked like all of those things too. Her face was perfect, her cheeks rounded, and her body soft
always on the cusp of adulthood but never quite reaching it. She had eyes that reminded one of
buds on a fruiting tree, but you could not say if they were brown or green. She had lips the color of
flowers, delicate and soft. She had hair the color of a spring sun, crisp and bright but not quite
warm. Her skin was like tilled earth, rich and dark, waiting for planting. Her hands were tender and
her feet small. She walked with a presence about her, something that most gods could not even
claim, the kind that made a soul stop and listen.

When Idunn had been young, truly young, her father had called her Iduna. Called her his ‘Little
Love’. She could not remember his face, nor could she recall his voice. She only knew of his
absence. It had happened around her 15 th birthday. You see back then the Aesir were mortal.
Strong and durable but mortal still. The giants lived long in their lands, their lifeforce tied to the
realms they called home. A fire giant was born of a mountain of fire and lived as long as the
mountain would, a frost giant was born of ice and glaciers and was just as enduring.

The elves were able to enchant themselves longer lifespans, they claimed it was part of their make-
up and only Idunn knew that truth anymore.

It was just the humans, the Aesir and the Vanir who lived short lives.

Idunn hadn’t minded that as a young girl, it was all she’d known.

Then the sickness had come. It had been this debilitating thing. It started with a cough, light and
almost a little annoying in its painlessness. Then there were shivers and night sweats then the
strange dreams. Then the spots would appear, yellow ugly things that would bring with them
vomiting and blood and hallucinations. Once the spots appeared death occurred within days.

It had taken her father from her. It had taken many fathers from many people.

It ravaged Asgard; once, twice, thrice.

The first time it took her mother, she had been a babe at the time. The second time it took her
grandparents.

The third time it took her father.

She had no one left in all the world. She’d been forced to marry a man much older than her, Bragi.
He was cruel and old and ugly. He’d bothered before, when her father had been there to protect her
from his unwanted advances. But without her father, there had been nothing left for her. It was not
the law of the time to allow a woman to be on her own, and with no family, she had to be married
into one. Bragi threatened any other potential suitors. She’d married Bragi against her will and
took nothing with her into his home except a bag of apples from her father’s trees.

He’d tried to take her that night and she’d burnt his face with purple flame.

She hadn’t even known she had magic, no one had. But there it was bright and powerful and the
flames burnt on the man’s face for days afterwards.

He never tried to touch her again.

When the sickness came again, Bragi was taken and Idunn was spared. She left her home in
Asgard, using what little magic she’d managed to learn, and she ran to Alfheim. Those who’d
known her in Asgard believed her dead which was good because she refused to marry again.

Later in her life, when her adventures were done and her garden planted, she would reflect on her
distaste of marriage and wonder if it was men she disliked so or the entire concept. It would not be
until a young, lusty goddess of beauty attempted to woo her in exchange for eternal perfection, that
things became clear. There were many pleasures in life that a body could partake in and Idunn
would happily leave the wetter ones to everyone else.
 When Idunn arrived in Alfheim, the elves saw her violet flames and they welcomed her in without
question. It didn’t matter where she was from or even what her name was, if she had soul magic
she was wanted amongst the elves. Their magic was white and beautiful and they taught her much.

She learnt about the nature of a soul amongst the forests of Alfheim. She learnt what it meant to
enhance, to limit, and to change a soul. How it could be a violation on the unwilling, and a
salvation to the needy. How it could be a curse and a blessing rolled up into one. She did not learn
to fear her power.

That came later.

The elves blessed her with an elongated life, singing youth back into her skin with the explanation
that powers like her’s should be preserved. Idunn likely would have remained in Alfheim for the
rest of her days, living well into old age and passing away with honor, if the sickness had not
followed her to Alfheim. It was then that she learnt that even the elves had limits.

Death came and Idunn had had enough.

She went to her home, an apple tree grown from one of her father’s fruits. She looked at the bright
red skins of the fruits she so loved the taste of and decided enough was enough. She picked an
apple from a branch, checked it for rot or imperfections, and then let the magic free. The magic
that poured out of her was unlike anything the realms had ever before seen or would likely ever see
again. She took it from deep down in the Yggdrasil, deeper than anyone had ever dared to go
before, she took magic almost from the roots themselves, dragging it up from Hel and letting it
flood the apple in her hand.

It lasted a thousand lifetimes. Idunn had now lived closer to a million lifetimes still considered that
moment to be the longest in her life. The magic poured into the apple in her hand, she transformed
the very soul of the thing from a seed meant to give life to a new tree to something else entirely. A
change so deep and so true that the apple in her hand could no longer be fairly called such.

There was so much magic that it spread from the apple in her hand to all the apples on her tree.
When she opened her eyes, her sight was filled with gold, the most perfect lustrous gold anyone
had ever seen.

She had not known then that these apples would make one immortal. She had only wanted to
protect everyone she could from the disease that had taken everything from her. She’d picked every
single one of the golden apples, put them in a bag and rushed to the infected Elven city. She did not
notice in her rush to leave, that the apple tree withered and died with every step she took away
from it. The soul of that tree had been mangled by her work and could no longer sustain itself
without the presence of the apples on its branches.

She would never know she had killed the last of her father’s trees.

It did not take long to use juice a part of the apples and give each elf the needed drink to save them
from disease. The disease was gone. The Elves celebrated but Idunn could not. She remembered
her father then, remembered all she had lost, and knew she could not leave Asgard to suffer. She
left Alfheim during the celebration, unaware she had gifted the elves with immortality. Something
they had been close enough too in the first place that they didn’t notice it themselves either.

Asgard certainly noticed.

Idunn returned to her father’s home. The wooden structure rotten with age and the apple grove
overrun with weeds and brambles. She planted the remaining golden apples in a clear spot and
used the magic the elves had taught her to sing the sprouts up through the earth.

Things spiraled out of her control after that.

She destroyed the plague that had taken her family from her and she had somehow managed to
banish death from all of Asgard. Immortality for every being who ate of the apple. Well near
immortality, the apple kept away disease and weakness, but it would not stop serious wounds from
doing a god in.

She did not fear her gift then.

No. She feared it when the Vanir-Aesir war began.

Vanaheim wanted immortality. Asgard wanted power.

Blood was spilt and it was all Idunn’s doing.

The horrors of the war would stay with her all through the rest of her days. In fact, every war
Asgard would wage would weigh on her. The destruction of the dark elves, the ravaging of
countless mortal realms, the enslavement of the dwarves, the gutting of Jontunheim. Idunn would
remember each and every one. Well aware that it was her power, her gift, that gave Asgard the
ability to do what it did.

When the Aesir-Vanir war ended it did so with a peace treaty guaranteeing apples for each
newborn Vanir and Aesir citizen. She refused to give the gift out to any others, couldn’t bring
herself to cause more harm, to destroy more of the balance of the Yggdrasil than she already had.
She felt weary and old. There was so much people wanted from her.

They all wanted her to change some part of their souls.

Make me beautiful.

Make me strong.

Give me magic.

Take away my magic.

Make me charming.

Make me good.

Change this.

Change that.

Fix this.

Fix that.

It felt repugnant to change a soul for anything so simple, so selfish.

She went home, far up and into the mountains of Asgard, she settled down in her father’s lands,
surrounded by great thriving trees that grew apples of gold. She sent the apples on request to the
families who had new babies and she remained alone.
She preferred it that way.

When Odin had sent her the first message explaining that he had a grandson, a demi-god, who
might require an apple but certainly required her presence she had scoffed. What would this half-
human need of her?

His magic is like yours.

Bile had risen in her throat at the idea of another being who could do what she had done. She has
spent millennia carrying the knowledge that soul magic, once done, could not be undone. It was a
harsh lesson, something that only witnessing genocide after genocide could teach her. She had
comforted herself with the knowledge that no one else could do what she had done. But now that
comfort was gone.

She did not respond to Odin’s message.

Then the second came.

A mortal monster, Voldemort, has spilt his soul purposefully into things called horcruxes. They are
objects that give him immunity to death. One of these soul pieces was inserted into my grandson’s
forehead as an infant. If it is not removed or destroyed, he will die.

Please help him. Please.

Idunn had sat with that message for a few minutes, her ancient mind racing. She had known of
these soul containers before. There was very little soul magic she did not know, if any at all. She
had not known them as horcruxes, but names held little meaning to her, language changed faster
than she did these days after all. She had never seen one of these things herself of course, why
would anyone search after such evil?

But she knew the theory.

The theory was not promising.

She considered writing a letter to Odin, telling the King to begin the funeral preparations because
there was nothing anyone could do for a cursed soul such as this. But then. Oh, then she had just a
glimpse of her father, a kind face frowning at her with disapproval.

I didn’t teach you to be so selfish, Iduna

Fine. She sighed, her bones creaking despite their eternal youth, and she began the journey to the
capital city of Asgard. She donned robes of violet and gold and mounted on a steed as black as
night. She road down overgrown paths and barely visible dirt roads down the side of the steep
mountain. Behind her, the golden apple grove was shrouded from view, a strong magic keeping
anyone, even Heimdall, from viewing it.

Within a day she entered the royal city for the first time in millennia. It looked different. The air
tasted sweet instead of like rot and blood. No one knew her face she had been away for so long.
She looked at the gold of the streets and frowned at the sight, she knew the cost of that gold and
wondered how Odin could display it so proudly. No one stopped her as she led her horse to the
stable and placed it inside and empty stall. She took her time removing the saddle and ensuring her
ride had water and hay to eat.

She knew Odin was waiting for her. She may never have actually met the man but she knew him,
knew his crimes. She had actually met his daughter once. The powerful magic user had tracked her
down and begged for power, Idunn had shown her what true power was and banished her with little
effort.

She knew Odin’s grandson, the soul magic user in training, was waiting too.

She didn’t know what to say to him.

She left the stables and walked through the palace, it looked nothing like she recalled, much larger,
much grander. Everything sparkled with magic and might. All because of her. She knew the blood
that stained these gilded floors. She saw Tyr, a man she’d met once long ago, training young Aesir
men to fight. And fight what? Why even now did her people crave blood and violence so? Had that
been part of the apple’s gift?

“Lokison!” Tyr shouted. “To the front!”

She stopped and stood in the shadows as a young man with messy dark hair stepped forward. He
had a sword in hand and was wearing a leather tunic. His pale skin was a near opposite to her own,
his hair was the opposite of her’s too.

Yet she knew.

She saw.

This was the boy she’d come to see.

She could feel the horcrux. It’s dark energy, the wrongness in it wafting towards her like the worst
sort of stench.

“Tyr.” She called stepping into the sun. “I require the boy.”

The old trainer, who managed to look older than she ever would despite her out aging him by
thousands of years, startled at the sight of her.

“Lady Idunn.” He greeted, his voice hushed. “You honor us with your presence.”

“The boy.” She said. “Lokison was it? Come here.”

The young man looked over at Tyr, who nodded, and then left the group of trainees to walk to her
side. They were as different as the moon and the sun, the only thing similar between them was their
magic, the youthfulness of their faces, and the age in their eyes.

“Come with me.” She said turning on her booted heel and going back into the palace. Lokison
followed her without complaint saying nothing until she found an empty room that would work for
their purposes. She turned to look at the pale boy, at the mark on his forehead that held such
unwanted evil, and then spoke. “What do you know of soul magic?”

“It’s um…from the part of the Yggdrasil near Hel.”

“Yes. And?”

“It affects the soul.” He said. “I mean, like in a real way. It’s deep and it doesn’t…it’s permanent
isn’t it? At least the real powerful stuff is. The sort of stuff you can do.”

“If you know all of that then why ask for my help at all? Surely you know your cause is hopeless.”

“Just because something hasn’t been done doesn’t mean it won’t be.” He said. “Besides, if you
thought it was hopeless you wouldn’t have come.”

She narrowed her eyes at the boy, trying not to smile at his cheek. She focused a bit more on him,
filtering out the interference from the horcrux and looking at the boy himself.

“You’ve a prophecy on your shoulders, a destiny to fulfill.” She noted. “I can see it, it wraps
around your soul like a heavy coat.”

“Yeah.” He said. “I hope I get to take that off someday.”

“Hmm.” She said. “What do you want, Lokison?”

What do you want from me? What part of your glorious, weighted soul do you want me to disfigure
for your pleasure?

“Uhm, for you to try and help me figure out how to remove this horcrux?” He said, almost
confused.

“No. What do you want?” She asked again, causing him to scrunch his eyebrows together in
confusion.

“I just said.”

“No. You said what you thought I wanted to hear.” She said. “Everyone wants something from me
so what is it? The secrets of soul magic? Power? Immortality? Strength? Endurance? Tell me what
you truly desire.”

He blinked at her for a moment, stunned. Good. At least she’d cut through all of the lies quickly
enough. It took a few minutes before he was ready to speak. When he did, he looked quite somber
and serious.

“The only thing I really want you can’t give me.” He said slowly. “No one can.”

“Oh?”

“I want my mum back.” He said. “She died protecting me the night I got this. That’s my greatest
wish but it’s not ever happening so I’m just going to settle with the whole getting the horcrux out of
my head.”

And she could see, the truth in his very soul. He didn’t want her to change his soul.

“Oh.”

How fascinating.

How new.

How glorious.

“What do you want?” The boy asked.

“Dear boy. I’ve made my choices and I must live with them.” She said, everything she’d wanted
had turned to dust a long time ago. “Now let’s see what we can do for you.”

Over the next hour she began to scan and test the horcrux. The soul shard had attached itself firmly
to Harry’s, that was the boy’s name, soul. That was how horcrux formation worked after all. The
shredded piece of soul would be attached to the soul of another object, thus creating a near
indestructible unholy abomination that would offer the original being protection against mortal
wounds. This horcrux, however unintentionally made, was well anchored with Harry’s soul. So
much so that some of the soul’s original characteristics like the ability to speak Parseltongue had
bled into Harry.

It was just as well anchored as the changes her apples made to an Aesir soul.

Despite this the horcrux was still distinct from Harry’s soul. This surprised her of course, a horcrux
of this age, the two souls should have merged completely into something horrific. Yet the boy’s
soul remained mostly untouched, yes there was bleed through, but he had been protected from the
worst of it by his mother.

“This is absolutely fascinating.” She said. “I never thought I’d see this magic again.”

“You’ve seen it before?”

“Once or twice when I was young.” She said. “It’s a love spell of sorts.”

“What is it?” He asked.

“Well you see, it’s… oh it’s difficult to explain. It requires a great love on the part of the caster,
powerful and unshakable. The caster sacrifices their heart, both physically and metaphorically, for
a being that they love. It can be another person, it can be a thing, or a place. It just has to be
something worthy of that love. We used to sing great songs about these sacrifices and the wonders
that came from it.”

“What wonders?” The boy pushed again.

“In exchange for their sacrifice, the caster’s being of choice, is given a protector of sorts.” Idunn
explained. “It’s not the soul of the caster of course, but something like an imprint of it, a copy. The
copy embeds itself like a protective shield around the being, coating their soul with love and
strength and vitality. Beings who have been given this gift of sacrifice generally become great in
some way. Artists, heroes, inventors, something like that. They are marked by a great love and
they return that love to the world in some meaningful way.”

“Oh.”

“In your case, your mother’s imprint has protected you from the horcrux, without it you would
have been taken over by it within a year of having it. You likely would have become some
deformed copy of this Dark Lord as an infant.” Idunn said. “Your mother loved you very much for
this to exist, I can feel that love even still. It’s a great thing, this love, even if it comes from
tragedy. It’s a love that gives and grows and flourishes despite every hardship. It’s a love that
returns love to the world a 1000-fold.”

She had a hand on his forehead, it was glowing purple as she used her magic to scan the horcrux.
The boy sniffled and she pretended not to notice. Instead she returned to her work, trying to find
any sort of weakness that would allow her to pry apart the two souls.

“If you can’t remove it.” The boy said after a long silence. “What happens when I die? Will I be…
tied to this thing?”

“No.” She said. “Your soul isn’t meshed enough with his for that to happen fortunately. Your
mother’s protection will ensure that if you must die, you will be free of any trace of darkness when
your soul leaves your body.”
“I don’t think I want to die.” He said.

“I know this may seem hypocritical, coming from me.” She said. “But death is nothing to fear.”

“I’m not scared of it.” He said. “Death just is. I know my soul will still be around, that I’ll get to be
move forward, that it’s not and end or anything. But…I don’t want to leave my dad and my friends
behind. I don’t want them to be sad.”

“Hmm.” Idunn said. “I wish I could offer you words of comfort Harry but I can’t. I have been alive
for far longer than you can comprehend and I still mourn those I’ve lost. All I can say is that I will
try to find a way to remove a horcrux, I will try dear boy.”

“We’ve already found one. An old cup.” He said. “If you wanted to test on that one instead of on
my face.”

“That would be preferable.” She said wryly. “Give me the cup before you leave here and I will stay
in the royal palace until a solution has been found.”

“Thank you.” Harry said. “Seriously, Idunn. If anyone can do this, it’s you.”

That was the problem. Idunn feared that she couldn’t.

But, there was one thing she could do.

“I’ve got a good read on the Dark Lord’s soul. I know of a tracking spell that works on souls, it
works beneath the most powerful of wards, even things like the fidelus.”

“You know about that spell.”

“There’s very little magic I don’t know these days.” She said wryly. “I was alive when that spell
was invented Harry. The tracking spell is soul magic, you’ll be the one to cast it. But it will help
you hunt down the other horcruxes on Midgard.”

“Thank you.” He said again, his bright green eyes glistening.

“Don’t mention it.” She said removing her hand. “Now sit still and let me teach you this spell.”

It did not take him long to learn. Like her, he took to soul magic like a duck took to water. Once he
knew it, she helped him use his own senses to manage to lock onto this Dark Lord’s soul. Now
with the spell he would be able to track and trace of the dark lord like a bloodhound across the nine
realms if the need arose.

Once they were finished, Harry looked at her with a smile.

“Hey, do you want to play quidditch?”

“What?”

The boy did not know she was old, older than anything else in Asgard except for perhaps the
mountains. He did not know why she had isolated herself from the world. He did not know any of
the things one was meant to know about her.

What he did know with his still mostly untrained soul sense, was that she was alone.

That she ached.

 “Quidditch. It’s a fun game you play on flying brooms. I can teach you!” He said, holding out his
hand. “We’ve got time for at least once game before dinner in the feasting hall, I’m sure.”

“You’re father…” She began.

“He won’t mind! You’ve already given us more than we’d hoped. Come on. Just one game?”

And that was the first request she’d been given in the last 9000 years she was happy to fulfill.

Chapter End Notes

Remember Idunn and Eir are two different people that I mixed up because being a
grad student is hard sometimes lol.
 Weight Training
Chapter Summary

Autumn starts passing Harry by quicker and quicker, the world moves forwards
churning closer and closer to a future that not even Frigga could predict.

Chapter Notes

Hey ya'll! Welcome to February! January was a heck of a year wasn't it? Please enjoy
this update! I wanted to speed things up so we could have a good Christmas update or
two. I was in the mood for some Weasley Sweaters.

Hogwarts had always been somewhat divided.

It was not that the concept of houses was flawed, no. That was a fine system to encourage healthy
competition between students as well as provide a support system for students who were far from
home for the first time.

On paper, Hogwarts should have been unified.

And yet.

Well the founders had never really been all that unified themselves had they? Godric and Salazar
loved nothing more than to tear at each other. Sometimes it seemed their arguments were truly
friendly and then other times their fights would end in blood and duels and bitter silences that
wouldn’t end until Helga made them make up again. Rowena was always ¾ in the future and only
¼ in the present. Her mind was always focused on a place where her problems had been solved or
put to rest and she was more concerned with the problems of people who would not be born for
centuries more.

Perhaps because their problems were easier for her to deal with as they didn’t actually exist yet.

Either way Rowena, when she was present, could switch being supportive and level headed and
being almost manic with new ideas and systems. She’d float into the feasting hall and explain
she’d been up all night enchanting the staircases by hand so that they’d move. It had to be done for
a reason she could not elaborate on but would not be relevant until long after all of them were dead
and no why should she have to ask for permission to do something so utterly necessary?

Helga was the only one amongst them who had a lick of sense but even then, when faced with her
three impossible friends, there was only so much the healer could do.

Things were unified to a point at the beginning. Yes cracks were starting to form but all four of
them were able to consistently patch them up to keep the school running. But then there had been
that final fight and Salazar had left in a huff and the unity of the school had been…well quite
shattered. And it was as if that shattering had imprinted itself on the very stones of the castle.
Salazar’s students remembered the cruel words Godric had spat at their teacher and taught the
incoming students who joined them not to bother with those Gryffindors over there and Godric’s
students remembered how desperately sad their teacher had been after Salazar had left and told the
new incoming students that Salazar was quite the traitor. And then the new students taught the
same thing to the next batch and those lessons morphed from don’t trust Salazar and don’t trust
Godric to don’t trust that house.

Hufflepuffs remained mostly neutral but would often be pulled into one side of the conflict or the
other depending on the politics at the time.

Ravenclaws would often rip themselves apart in academic debate over which house was better and
end up not really siding with anyone at all.

Certainly, there were times over the school’s 1000-year history where things were not so bad. In
times of peace and prosperity it seemed as if the fractures had sealed themselves up but then
without much warning at all the schism would form again and the rivalry would erupt as if it had
never stopped at all. During war it got oh so much worse. What house you were sorted in
determined what side of any war you’d fight, good or bad.

Slytherins weren’t always the bad guys.

Neither were Gryffindors always the heroes.

The only constant was that they always struggled to get along.

Sure you’d have exceptions every year, a few students making an attempt to befriend people from
other houses, but that was always on a case by case basis and often those friendships would be torn
apart at the seams due to outside pressure.

Every generation someone tried to fix it of course but they always tried to start from the top. Push
the professors to work towards unity, or talk to the oldest students who were about to leave about
how perhaps they should stop fighting with one another even though those students were far too
focused on their exams to consider the socio-political issues that could be solved if they all put
down their notes and held hands for awhile.

Which is what made Harry Potter’s strategy so incredibly unique.

Harry wasn’t targeting individuals in other houses he thought he could be friends with he was
targeting every single person in the school. Harry wasn’t targeting the professors or the
administration, he didn’t really much care what the headmaster did for all sorts of reasons. Harry
wasn’t trying to convince the 7th years to change themselves and distort everything they’d learnt in
the past seven years to fit his agenda.

No.

No Harry had decided to start from the ground and work up. With his friends by his side and while
feeling like he had nothing to lose, Harry had become the mentor for every single first year and a
large majority of the second years at Hogwarts. It was revolutionary.

It was also the thing that Harry was focusing most of his energy on these days.

If someone were to ask Harry what it was like to be a horcrux he’d probably tell them that it was
none of their business. If someone he trusted asked him, Harry would probably mumble about how
it didn’t hurt like it used to and while he didn’t like it, he wasn’t suffering or anything. If someone,
anyone, managed to get the real answer out of him, it would probably sound something like this.

He felt as if he had weights on his legs.

His Uncle Vernon had bought these ankle weight things when Harry was 7, part of his New Year
Resolution to get fit. For the three days that Vernon ‘jogged’ (calling what he did jogging was not
at all accurate), he’d put on these black bands, tight around his ankles as a form of resistance
training. Each one of the bands weighed about two and half kilograms and was meant to increase
the amount of work Vernon did for each stride.

Harry had been the one who had to put them away when Vernon gave up. They’d been stuffed into
his cupboard and Harry had put them on out of curiosity one afternoon. The weight around his feet
was odd, it wasn’t impossible to walk with them, but the sensation of something pulling down on
his feet was difficult to describe. Petunia had almost caught him wearing them when she sent him
outside to mow the lawn. Harry had been forced to keep the weights on for the entire day so that no
one would know he’d been playing with things that didn’t belong to him.

He’d mowed the lawn, pruned the bushes, pulled up weeds, cleaned the windows, and emptied out
the gutters all while wearing the weights beneath his too large jeans.

Eventually he’d gotten used to the weight, he forgot it was even there, as if his brain had decided
that the weights were there to stay and there wasn’t any point in bothering with sensing them
anymore. When the day had been over and Harry had been able to take the weights off, his feet had
felt almost painfully light. His muscles were now overcompensating with every step and he
worried he’d knee himself in the gut.

That wasn’t even mentioning how sore his legs had been.

So, Harry felt like the horcrux was just like those ankle weights, a far more malicious version of it
at least. And just like with his Aunt Petunia that summer day, Harry couldn’t take it off. He knew
there was something attached to him, something that was not meant for him, some painful thing
that was genuinely pushing down on him. But he couldn’t really feel it, his body had gotten used to
the weight, the pressure. It was normal.

It shouldn’t be normal.

But Harry didn’t know what life was without it. He didn’t know how his soul was always meant to
feel. He had only ever experienced the world with Voldemort’s soul stuck to him, the weight of a
malignant tumor. Everyone in his life knew what it meant to have their soul be their own but not
Harry. No one else could imagine what he was feeling either because well…who knew what their
soul actually felt like anyway?

His friends just felt like themselves.

Harry was aware that what he felt wasn’t himself, it was him plus Voldemort.

Harry didn’t even know what Harry felt like.

Idunn didn’t either, she explained. She could not see what shape his soul would take if he was ever
free of Voldemort. No one knew what sort of thing Harry’s soul was meant to be.

All they knew was what he was with the weight.

And just like that summer day with those stupid weights, Harry just had to keep going and doing
what had to be done. He had to pretend he wasn’t being weighed down, that he wasn’t being
tethered by something against his will. He had to do his homework and go to class with the
knowledge in the back his mind that he had that thing stuck to him. He had to put together his
house’s quidditch team and practice for their games all the while trying his best to ignore the
imagined pressure on his forehead.

And he had to run the DA without constantly scratching at his scar.

So that’s what he did.

He played the first Quidditch game of the season against Slytherin, the Avengers watching in
disguise in the stands, and he won against Draco.

He turned in his homework on time, he even did the extra reading Hermione kept suggesting he do.

He went to his weekly training with Tyr and he practiced all the moves and promised to be more
aggressive in his fighting.

He returned the sword to the goblins and signed a contract swearing that he would destroy all of
the horcruxes and kill Voldemort as payment for use of the sword. The goblins requested Harry
keep the sword on his person and so Harry now had to walk around with the sword (in a scabbard)
attached to his back.

He ran the DA sessions, taught first years how to do their charms and how to defend themselves.
He kept fights from breaking out amongst older students. He even removed a couple Dark Marks
from 7th years who’d been marked against their wills and wanted out. (Draco had done the
background interrogation on those Slytherins for Harry and Harry decided to trust his judgement
on that one). He offered help to anyone who wanted it and in the end did more good for the unity
of the school than anyone before him had ever dreamed of.

He scratched at his scar when he thought no one would notice.

The school began to knit itself together as a cohesive whole while Harry wasn’t looking. Winter
came before he even knew it, snow covering the grounds as students had snowball fights picking
teams based on friendships and not on houses. First years who hadn’t been indoctrinated into the
‘your house first’ mindset were more concerned with spending time with their friends and learning
magic than they were the war or with blood purity. Oh, sure there were some first years who’d
been raised on the pure blood ideology but within the first two months of school they’d dropped it
because it wasn’t very fun to tell your new muggleborn friends that their parents thought they were
scum.

So suddenly Voldemort had his incoming recruits swiped out from under his feet. Being a Death
Eater wasn’t cool.

Harry Potter was cool.

Somehow Harry didn’t notice this. Draco was the one who explained to him in cutting tones that
Harry had become handsome and popular.

“They’re all blushing because you’re attractive, you idiot.”

“Huh.”

Harry still felt like scratching his scar but the blush on his cheeks was a nice distraction.

“Really Potter, I can’t believe you couldn’t tell. No one gets that fit over the summer without
noticing.”

“Well um…”

“Doesn’t matter. We’re using it as part of the branding.”

“Branding?”

“Yes. For our side.” Draco said. “Honestly, you’re not Dumbledore’s and you’re not the Dark
Lord’s. You’re your own side. We need a good brand for people to follow and your face is what
we’re using. Now the next time you’re out if you could make sure to smile so that they get good
pictures of you for the papers I’d be appreciative.”

“You’re mental.”

“No. I’m pragmatic. You’ve already got the Americans, the Avengers, Asgard, and somehow the
goblins on your side.”

“I’m pretty sure the goblins just see me as the least objectionable.”

“Something I cannot relate to I assure you.” Draco sneered. “You’ve managed to convince a
majority of the school that you’re a better option than either of the other two, that’ll spread back
when everyone goes home for Christmas. We need to cement what your side represents before
then.”

“Justice? Equality? Safety?”

“Boring.” Draco said waving a hand as if to dismiss it. “The others claim the same thing for their
sides too. What we need is something neither have.”

“And that is?”

“I believe your muggle friend Stark called it Sex Appeal.”

“I hate you.” Harry said. “I’m not going to go out and take pictures. I’m not Lockhart.”

“Lockhart was effective. We should be too. The public needs a reason to like you.”

“Saving them isn’t enough?”

“Was it before?”

Draco like everyone else in his life was making plans for the future war that didn’t involve him
dying. They were all in denial about the real possibility of the horcrux being irremovable. Harry
listened and agreed to all of their plans, he wanted to hope. He did. He didn’t want to die.

But there was a part of him that…

Well he couldn’t help but wonder if he had to.

It wasn’t that Dumbledore was certain of it. It was the look in Idunn’s eyes when she reported that
her first test on the Hufflepuff cup had resulted in the destruction of the cup. It was the tension in
his dad’s shoulders as he took the diadem they’d found in the castle up to her to test.

(And wasn’t that just a turn up? Finding one of Voldemort’s horcruxes in the school, not even
hidden, just in the room of requirement, waiting for them.)
Harry’s fear lay in how many books Hermione consumed. It was in Ron’s outlandish theories. It
was in Tyr’s voice as the man gave him advice on how to be brave, something he’d never done
before. It was how Frigga weaved and reweaved on her loom, looking and begging for something
that she could not find. It was in Odin’s hands, as the man gifted Harry a crest to wear that
proclaimed him part of the royal family, something he shouldn’t have received until he was an
adult.

What if he had to die?

Was he willing to do that? To go that far? To lose that much?

He had just discovered how wonderful life could be. He’d found family and pockets and sparks of
joy. In just one summer he’d changed from a frightened angry kid to a proud young man ready to
win this war. He had so much to lose now. Things he’d never even imagined having.

Could he give it all up?

Could he give up his dad’s hugs and Thor’s booming voice? Could he give up Tyr’s lessons and
Quidditch games? Could he say goodbye to his friends, the friends he’d tied his heart to in a magic
vow?

More importantly could he live in this world for long with the knowledge of the weight he carried.

Harry had no one to talk to this about, no one but Idunn, because she was the only one who was
willing to consider him dying. Every week when Harry went to Asgard she would greet them, and
when Harry finished his training, he’d go with her and she’d do more scans of his scar, trying to
divine some weakness she could exploit. Idunn was willing to let Harry talk about the weight he
felt, the fear he carried.

When he told her that he had no idea who he was outside of his mum’s sacrifice and Voldemort’s
soul parasite, she told him that he’d learn one way or another. Answers would come to him and
until then he could comfort himself with the fact that he was a good sort of being.

It comforted him. At least sort of.

Winter exams snuck up on Harry. He only realized they were happening when the students in the
DA started frantically studying for them. He had to open up extra sessions just for the rush of
students. Three times a week the room they’d reserved was filled to the brim with students
studying and trying to learn everything they were meant to know for their tests. Slytherins leaned
up against Hufflepuffs as they looked at plant diagrams. Gryffindors and Ravenclaws corrected
each others essays. Hufflepuffs practiced dueling with Gryffindors. Slytherins and Gryffindors
learnt to brew side by side in a display that would make Snape break out into hives.

Hogwarts was unified in a way it had never been and it should have filled Harry with warmth.

Harry himself worked alongside Draco, Blaise, Pansy, and a few other Slytherins as tutors. He
learnt their names and their skills. He became good friends with everyone on the Slytherin
Quidditch team. In fact, all of the quidditch teams became something like friends and would have
rousing discussions about different professional teams after DA meetings. The fact that Draco and
Ron both were fans of the Chudley Cannons made Harry laugh a bit too hard.

Things were going well.

Harry’s scar was quiet aside from a few flashes of rage and fear that would appear occasionally.
There had been no other attacks in Europe, and only a few in America that were quenched quickly
thanks to the Avengers and the American Aurors. Tyr’s training was going well and he was
becoming quicker to move into the offense than he’d ever been before. His friends in Asgard knew
him by name and were always eager to play and joke with him.

Life was good.

They had plans for Christmas, a few days at the Burrow, a few days in Asgard, and a few in New
York. Harry was going to have his very first family Christmas. He’d even gotten gifts for everyone,
they were wrapped up in his trunk and safely tucked away. Tony had this huge party planned that
was bound to be fun, even Asgard was getting into the spirit of things. His life had never been
better. He should be running towards that happiness with abandon.

But he had weights on his feet.

 Yule at The Burrow
Chapter Summary

Loki has a lot of great plans for his son's first family Christmas. First it's time to
celebrate Yule with the Weasleys.
What could possibly go wrong?

Chapter Notes

Hey everyone. It's sad boy hours for Harry right now but I promise to cheer him up
soon. I swear it upon my honor.

Asgard had never actually celebrated Christmas.

This shouldn’t be all that surprising. Christmas as a holiday was much younger than most adult
gods and was based on the idea of a demigod saving the world. Up until very very recently
demigods weren’t something worth celebrating.

But now Asgard had a demigod and he was prophesied to save the world.

So, most people were more than willing to get into the spirit of things even if it was a bit
sacrilegious.

Seeing as how the only Asgardian to have ever celebrated the holiday was Loki it had fallen to him
to educate the masses on what the secular version of the holiday was and how people were meant
to celebrate it. There were some things, like the carols, that Loki was more than happy to leave on
earth. But he did describe the stockings and the tree and the various sweets and treats. He told them
of the Midgardian tradition of going to sleep and waking up in the morning to gifts from one
another, wrapped up in shiny coverings. A showing of love and support towards one family.

That had been received well and there were many homes in the royal city that were decked out in
the proper decorations. Well as close to proper as Asgardians could manage. Loki would tell them
about mistletoe, a poisonous plant that humans hung in their homes during the holiday. When two
people stood beneath it, they had to exchange a kiss. This somehow got flipped around so that
Asgardians were hanging boughs from berry bushes and punching each other with great abandon
on the arm whenever two of them stood beneath it.

So, Christmas on Asgard was going to be great.

Loki himself had been focused on ensuring that the palace was properly done up. He’d gone with
Sirius and Remus and cut down a grand tree on Midgard and then had carefully transported it back
to Asgard. Remus had insisted on putting spells on the tree so that it wouldn’t die and could be
returned to its stump and healed after they were done. Loki only added a few spells to make sure it
didn’t shed needles everywhere and that it gave off the pleasant pine-sappy aroma that he liked so
well.
He knew from his time with Lily that she preferred to decorate the tree as a family. So Loki had
gathered up as many decorations as needed and told Odin, Frigga, and Thor that they best be ready
to give up an entire evening for this experience. He warned Odin specifically that if he missed it or
brought any work with him while he did it that Loki would make him suffer for it. Loki then
decorated the rest of the royal wing of the palace as was proper for Harry’s visit.

It had been decided that Christmas would be celebrated in three stages. The first stage was of
course the Weasleys. Loki, as James, would go with Harry to The Burrow. They would spend a few
days with the red headed family, exchanging a few gifts early and generally being as domestic and
silly as possible. Loki knew very well that the twins had plenty of plans. Of course, there would be
the more magical traditions for Yule that they would celebrate.

After that Harry and Loki would proceed to Asgard where Thor and the rest would be waiting for
them. Then they would spend a while there, Loki planned to pack in as many of the family
traditions that he and Lily had wanted for their son into this time. He knew it might hurt a bit to see
some of it, to do it without Lily, but his son deserved to have the entire experience. Every single bit
of it. They’d exchange gifts there again and also have a feast because no holiday in Asgard was
spent without one and Loki wouldn’t be surprised if there were more gifts for his son then.

Finally, they would return to New York, laden with gifts. There the Grangers, the Malfoys, the
Avengers, and the Marauders would all be there to celebrate the holiday with them for a third time,
in the most muggle of fashions. Tony had a swanky party planned and Steve had a smaller
celebration planned that would be far more personal. Loki wouldn’t be surprised of course if
Hermione requested to visit the Burrow for a time and that Ron asked to come to the tower as well.

What did surprise him was Draco’s request.

“I don’t even know why I asked. Stupid idea.”

“No. I didn’t hear you Malfoy.” Ron said. “Did you say you wanted to come to my house? Why?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Malfoy asked. “Mother and I are homeless, yes of course she lives in that
safehouse but that isn’t magical is it? There are traditions that should be upheld and…”

“And you can’t do it there.” Ron said nodding. “Yeah I don’t see why you couldn’t come, you’ll
have to bunk with me and Harry though. All my brothers are coming down this year you know so
it’s going to be full. I’ll ask mum when we see her, but she won’t say no. But you can’t make fun.
If you do, I’ll have Harry throw you out a window or something.”

“I’ll do wut?”

“Don’t worry about it mate.”

Loki rolled his eyes at the conversation. It was the final day of school before winter break and all
the students were having breakfast while their things were packed onto the carriages and the train
pulled into the station. Draco had waited till the absolute last possible moment to request this,
which wasn’t surprising since it had to have been absolutely mortifying for the poor boy. But his
father was in jail, the Manor was being used as Lord Voldemort’s stronghold. If he wanted to
celebrate Yule properly then he would need to do it in a magical household and the Weasleys were
his only safe option.

The plan was for Harry to ride the entire way with Ron and go to the Burrow with everyone else.
Hermione would go as well and Loki would meet them all in the evening once the coast was clear.
He’d take Hermione back to New York so that she could see her parents again, and then Loki
would settle in for a very fulfilling holiday.

He didn’t get to wish his son safe travel or smile at him. Harry didn’t even glance at him. His son
looked exactly like an orphan on Christmas would be expected to look, forlorn and a bit weighed
down. He knew it was an act, but it still hurt to see it. Loki had missed all the excited childhood
squeals, all the delighted gasps as his son ripped open gifts. He’d missed dressing up as Santa
Claus and eating whatever treats his son would leave out. He’d missed it all.

And so, had Harry.

But not this time. No. No this time they’d do it all. Well at least the things that they both wanted to
do.

The day passed swiftly. Loki had to get all of his end of semester grading done today as he refused
to do a smidge of it once he was with his son. He packed up everything that mattered and rapidly
went through the hundreds of assignments he had to get through with pots of red ink. Once it was
done and he’d suffered from three separate hand cramps, he grabbed his bag and traveled from
Hogwarts to The Burrow.

It was just as chaotic as the last time he’d been there, except it was now covered in snow.

Loki trudged up to the front door and gave it three knocks.

“COMING!” One voice yelled. The door swung open a moment later to reveal Percy Weasley, who
gaped at him. He hadn’t actually yet met any of the older boys. Granted he’d known of them from
before, but the last time he’d seen Percy the boy had been about 4 and more interested in his
younger brothers than any sort of Order business.

“Percy.” He greeted. “Is Harry in?”

“Dad!” Harry yelled, running up behind Percy. “Come on you’ve got to see this. They’ve been at it
for hours.”

His son pulled him in, forcing Percy aside and led him into the living room proper. In the center of
the living room was a chess board. Ron and Draco were currently engaged in whatever the
enchanted marble version of a blood bath was with their pieces.

“Who is winning?” Loki asked.

“I am.” Draco and Ron said at the same time.

“I’ve honestly got no clue. Hermione?”

“Currently Ron’s taken more pieces, but that’s just by one and Draco will…” Draco motioned one
finger forward and one his knights stepped forward and decimated a pawn. “Tie it up again.”

“Oh James!” Molly shouted. “You’re here! Just in time for dinner.”

“As if I’d miss your cooking! Tell me Molly dear is there anything you need me to do?”

“Oh no.” She said. “I’ve already got everything handled here. Arthur went out and picked up
Narcissa and she’s settled in and helping me with the cooking. Bill volunteered to get Hermione
home and she’s safe and sound with her parents. You just stay out there and get off your feet for a
while.”
Yule and Christmas were fundamentally different holidays. Of course, with the onset of so many
muggleborn students in recent years who preferred to celebrate the holiday of their parents, the two
had been conflated in a lot of ways. Both had their pros and cons and Loki had gotten he
opportunity to try both out during his time as James Potter. Loki wanted Harry to have the same
experience and asked Molly if she was going to be doing any of the more regal traditions. She had
given him a pat on the cheek and promised she’d do it right this year, just for him and Harry.

Apparently, Arthur had spent the part few years exploring the muggle version of the holiday with
glee, but he agreed to revert to the more pureblood traditions this year.

Yule was entirely magical. It was filled with rituals and special foods and spells done to strengthen
family ties. It was very heavy with tradition and symbolism. The Potters had used that time to
strengthen the wards on the family property, gathering as many of their bloodline together as they
could to participate in large group spells that would not only bond them together as a clan but also
bolster the magic that protected their home. That was the custom in the modern day. You did spells
to better the sleeping world around you and to strengthen the things that protected you from the
snow and ice.

Loki sat down onto a couch and his son climbed on next to him.

“How was the train ride?”

“Good.” Harry said. “I rode with the first years again, passed out some small gifts.”

“Gifts?”

“Was Hermione’s idea, to give the first years something magical to have to bring back to their
homes if they were muggleborns. All the upper years enchanted these small lights together to help
with the stress during exams.” Harry explained. “I wrapped them all with a spell though, my wrist
hurts a bit.”

“Let me see.” Loki said taking his son’s hand and letting a bit of healing energy to soothe over his
son’s sore tendons. “There.”

“Thanks dad.”

“Of course. Now. Tell me about your classes. How did you do?”

So, with his son snuggled up against him, he got the wonderful parental experience of talking about
grades and exams and what his son was worried about and what he was sure he’d aced. The
moment was interrupted by Molly who told them all to stop playing their games and to get to the
table, dinner was ready.

“Alright men.” Ron said. “Stand down for now. We’ll finish this after dinner.”

“You will go down, Weasley.”

“Yeah right.”

Dinner was an affair. The family table was laden with so much food that the thick wood was
bending inward towards the ground under the weight. It had been enlarged to fit all of the
Weasleys and their guests. Bill had brought with him a blonde girl that was most likely part Veela
that Harry recognized immediately and made a beeline over to talk to. Charlie hadn’t brought
anyone but he was wearing a ridiculous earring and hair long enough to make Molly tut about it the
entire time. Fred and George pushed themselves to sit next to Loki and talk business. Ginny and
Ron were sitting with Draco, talking about quidditch. Percy was near the head of the table with his
mother, father, and Narcissa Malfoy, looking awkward and out of place.

Ron had to teach Draco how to fight to get food on his plate.

Each person was having three conversations at once and at least one of those conversations was
being held by someone on the other end of the table.

The food was hot and steaming and filling.

Jokes and barbs were traded as easily as breaths were taken.

Laughter dominated every interaction.

Crumbs flew and sauce splattered over shirts and the table.

Narcissa looked rather overwhelmed by the sheer familiarity of it all, as did Draco.

When dinner ended, Loki flicked his wrists cleaning all of the dishes and sending them to their
proper places while Molly chided him for doing chores when he was a guest.

“Harry, always do some chores when you’re a guest. It’s polite.”

“Mrs. Weasley scares me, I think I’ll wait for her to ask.”

“Now!” Arthur said. “Who’s ready to make the annumics?”

“Annumics?” Harry asked.

“It’s the first part of Yule.” Ron explained. “You make a…I guess you could call it a pendant? It’s
got special runes you put on them based on what family you’re from.”

“An annumic, Mr. Potter is a way that we ask for good luck and strength for the coming year.”
Narcissa said. “You create one out of wood and then you burn it in a magical fire. This ritual gifts
us all with inspiration for the new year. The belief is that we ask the norns and our ancestors to
send us what we will need for future trials. Everyone receives some sort of vision. It’s a form of
divination that’s very old, it relies on the proper season, alignment of stars and sacrifice to work.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry, Starlight.” Loki said. “I’ll show you how to carve the Potter one.”

Harry nodded eagerly and Arthur went out to the garage. He returned moments later with a box fill
of blocks of elder wood. He handed out the blocks along with knives made of pure silver to each
person. Loki settled down onto the carpet of the living room and carefully showed his son the runic
pattern that represented the Potter family. He explained what each rune represented and why they
had been added over the ages. His son took it all in eagerly, drinking in the symbolism and doing
his best to recreate what Loki made on his own block.

It was obvious he’d never carved wood with a knife before, but he still managed to get the shapes
right and the overall structure was sound even if it wasn’t as elegant as Loki’s. Harry didn’t seem
to mind. He was more excited about this than he’d been about a lot of things lately, a true spark of
joy in his eyes as he enjoyed the experience. An experience that shouldn’t be so new to him but
was nonetheless.

It took about an hour for everyone to finish carving. It was slow going because everyone had
stories to share and tell about their years. Charlie shared stories of dragons and updated everyone
on Norberta. When Loki asked who Norberta was Harry had to explain the dragon egg that
Voldemort gave to Hagrid to trick him to telling him how to get past a three headed dog when they
were eleven. It was an old story to everyone else, but Loki was still shocked that Harry had
willingly smuggled a dragon out of the country.

Harry didn’t even look ashamed.

Percy talked about his work at the ministry and how it was difficult to tell who to trust and who not
to these days.

Fred and George spoke of their shop and how business was booming despite the war laden air of
Diagon Alley.

Bill told the story of how he met Fleur while he was doing work for Gringotts in France and how
they’d fallen for one another. Harry then explained that Fleur had been one of the other champions
in his fourth year and how they’d become friends of a sort after the second trial.

“You saved my little sister! We are a great deal more than just friends!” She chided.

Harry blushed but didn’t deny it. Loki ruffled his son’s hair and told him how proud he was of him.
Once the annumics were created, it was Arthur who lit the fire in their fireplace. It burned bright
and hot, a magical flame that wasn’t as dangerous as fiendfyre but was no less potent in its energy.

Arthur burned his first. He stepped up to the fireplace, held the wooden pendant to his heart, and
then spoke out the spell.

“Inspirumis Fatum.”

He then tossed the annumic into the flame causing it to flare out in response. The elder wood was
immediately eaten up and Arthur shivered a little. After a moment of silence, he spoke.

“We should all stay close together this coming year. Danger is coming.”

Molly went next. She bustled worriedly up after her husband and repeated the spell, tossing it in.
Her shiver was far more pronounced as the flame flared up. Her voice cracked when she spoke.

“We need to keep our wands in our hands.” She sniffed.

Harry was stiff next to Loki as he watched these proceedings. It wasn’t surprising that the warnings
coming from the ritual were so ominous. The pace of the war was increasing, getting ready to
reach a fever pitch, anyone could tell that. Loki just gave his son a quick hug in comfort. Bill went
next, he tossed his in and the spell made him grin.

“I need to get a ring!” He said looking over a Fleur who blushed brightly and smiled a very
besotted smile back at the man.

Harry relaxed and huffed a laugh while the rest of the group laughed along with delight for the
good omen that had been given them.

Down the line it went, each Weasley according to age, went up and burnt their annumic and
repeated whatever words of wisdom they were given in return. Some of them were dark. George’s
warning was particularly chilling even if the trickster tried to pretend it hadn’t bothered him much
at all. Ron’s was oddly enough advice about keeping his bow string well strung. It was odd only
because Asgardian bows didn’t need the upkeep that human ones did, they were well enchanted
against wear and tear. When the Weasley’s finished, the Malfoy’s began. Narcissa started,
throwing her annumic into the same fire.

She closed her eyes as the flame’s erupted high around her and when she opened them there were
tears in her eyes.

“I need to go to my ancestral home.” She said. “There is something there that will be needed.”

She stepped away and motioned for her son to move up. Draco threw his, the spell leaving his lips
with some amount of trepidation. He flinched at the flames and then spoke out with a haughty tone.

“I will see my father soon.”

A hush fell over the room at that. Lucius was in Azkaban. Either that meant that Draco would be
sent there or Lucius would be let out. Loki couldn’t tell what was worse. After Draco sat down
next to his mother, Loki himself got up. It had been a long time since he’d done this but the steps
came easily to him. He held the carefully carved annumic up to his heart, repeated the spell, and
tossed it in.

Immediately his mind was filled with a riot of images, his wife’s red hair, a silent battlefield with
Voldemort at the center and the sound of screaming, his own. Loki swallowed and spoke.

“I will see the Dark Lord in battle again.” Loki said, unsure how to explain the flashes of his
wife’s hair.

Finally, it was Harry’s turn. Harry stepped up at Loki’s gentle beckoning. He, out of everyone,
looked the most afraid. And no wonder. The Norns had been less than kind to his son. Asking them
for help now seemed like asking for pain and trouble. But his son didn’t hesitate much, he held the
annumic to his chest, said the spell and threw it into the flame.

Immediately the fire turned a violent violet and spread out higher and higher licking at the ceiling.
Everyone jumped back while Harry remained stock still, his entire body so stiff it might as well
have been stone. When the fire died down again his son didn’t say anything.

“Harry?”

His son shook his head violently and Loki finally noticed the tears streaming down his face. He
made a broken noise and pulled his son into a hug. His son closed his eyes to stop the tears and
held onto him tightly.

“What did you see?” He asked. “You have to say something to finish the ritual. Your best
interpretation of it, it doesn’t have to be right. A lot of them aren’t, but you still have to try.”

Harry shuddered but took in a deep breath and spoke anyway.

“I’m going to hug my mom.”

Oh.

Tears prickled his eyes and he held his son all the closer.

With the ritual ended on such a terribly somber note, most people didn’t feel much like saying
anything after something like that. Molly was kind enough to keep from crying in front of Harry
and carefully ushered everyone out of the room, leaving Loki alone with his son. It took all of
Loki’s strength to speak to his shuddering son.
“Harry. These visions are extremely symbolic. There’s a double meaning to all of it.” He said. “It
might not be your…well you have that protection on your soul, perhaps that’s what your vision is-”

“Dad.” Harry said. “Just stop.”

“What?”

“Stop.” He repeated. “I can’t keep doing this!”

His son pulled away his face red and his eyes furious.

“Harry?”

“I can’t dad! I can’t!” He shouted. “I can’t.”

“Can’t what?”

“I can’t pretend that it’s going to be okay.” Harry said. “You won’t…you won’t talk about my scar
or the prophecy or any of it. Nobody will. Everyone is just pretending that I’m going to live, and
Tom is going to die and the war will end and nothing bad is going to happen and I tried. I tried to
pretend that I’m fine, but I can’t anymore dad. I can’t.”

“You are going to live, Harry.” Loki said. “You are.”

“What if I don’t?”

“You will!”

“You don’t know that!” He bellowed. “You don’t know what’s going to happen! No one does!”

It hit his heart like a knife. His son was shaking with rage and fear, looking more alive than he had
in months. How had he not noticed how subdued Harry had become?

“I’m not going to let you die, Harry. You don’t need to worry about it.” He tried to comfort.

“You’re not listening to me!” He practically shrieked. “What if I die? What happens then?”

“You won’t! We’re not talking about this!”

Harry actually shrieked with frustration that time and every window on the first floor of the
Burrow shattered in a show of uncontrolled magic.

“I need to talk about it!” He shouted at him in the resulting silence. “Dad I can’t…I can’t keep not
talking about this.”

“Why?” Loki said. “Have you lost hope?”

“If I die.” Harry said before pausing and swallowing a lump in his throat. “If I die, you’ll be alone
again. I’ll leave my friends behind and Thor and Sirius and Remus and the Avengers. I’ll leave
you. I’ll be with mum. I know I will, I’m not…I’m not worried about me, dad.”

“You’re worried about me.” Loki whispered, tears stinging his eyes.

“I don’t want to die dad. I don’t.” He cried. “But…but if I do, I know I’ll be okay. I just…I just
have to know that you will be too.”
 And Loki knew that Harry’s death would devastate him. He thought about the screams the
annumic vision had granted him and feared what had caused them. The very idea of thinking about
losing his son made his very soul cry out in agony.

“Harry.” He said.

“Dad. Please…please don’t…don’t let it destroy you.” Harry begged. “I know it’ll hurt but…But
I’m so scared that you won’t ever be happy again.”

“I…Harry I don’t know.”

“You’ve got to promise.” He repeated. “That you’ll try to be happy. That you won’t… that you
won’t cut yourself off. Please.”

It was agony, being asked something like that. Loki knew there was only one answer he could
give. He also knew he could not lie to his son about this, even if he doubted he’d be able to follow
through. Loki reached out and pulled his son into a hug again.

“Harry.” He said. “My beloved Starlight. I’ll try.”

“You will?”

“I will.” He promised. “I’ll try.”

 Untitled Raven Game
Chapter Summary

It's a beautiful day in Asgard, and you are a horrible raven.

Chapter Notes

the angst last week was strong. Here's some good sturdy fluff.

The sun was shining brightly down in the realm of eternal summer.

Harry flexed his wings a bit as he landed inside the raven enclosure.

Below him Thor was carefully opening the doors that would allow any and all ravens to leave or
enter as they wished. Normally the doors were opened during certain times of the day and the
ravens were allowed to fly around Asgard. This was done to ensure that incoming ships wouldn’t
hit any of the poor birds. And so that none of the mischievous birds would cause trouble at a
solemn event.

Around Harry all of the ravens were chittering amongst each other. Harry could vaguely
understand them. It was odd, he didn’t yet understand all of the bird body language which was a
big part of how they communicated. Despite his lack of understanding he could still sort of get
what they were saying to each other. It wasn’t as easy as parseltongue was but then again Harry
had no idea how parseltongue even worked since he was pretty sure snakes didn’t have ears.

“Ready nephew?” Thor asked.

Harry bobbed his head in agreement, then he looked over at the other birds. They were all looking
in interest at the new interloper and the familiar sight of the crown prince. Harry carefully tried to
call out to them, he cawed out, not too loud but loud enough to be heard.

Come play. Mischief.

That got them interested, even if he was obviously a being pretending to be a raven, the birds were
still more than interested in his offer than they were suspicious of it. Harry motioned for them to
leave the room and so they did. The ravens took flight and Harry followed right after. The plan was
simple, cause some chaos and lead his dad on a wild goose chase, or rather a wild raven chase.
Harry explained all of that to the flying ravens in what was essentially raven baby talk and the
ravens all agreed to help.

So, they all flew into the town and began causing mischief. Birds landed on people, stole gold
coins and lunch right of aesir hands. An entire conspiracy of ravens was wreaking havoc through
the royal city. Harry himself was flying through groups and offering advice to make things more
chaotic. It was actually quite fun. Ravens didn’t know about war or horcruxes or prophecies. They
knew a lot about flying and being a nuisance and Harry felt like he had a lot to learn from them.
Especially with how things had been lately.

The rest of the time at the Burrow had been spent with Harry taking off the weight he’d been
carrying. He talked with his dad a few more times, Harry knew it was hard for his dad to talk about
it. To imagine that Harry might die. But Harry needed to know what would happen if he did. It
wasn’t so much funeral arrangements as it was, how his dad would act and what Harry wanted to
happen.

Harry wanted his dad to stay with Remus and Sirius, he wanted his dad not to do what he did the
first time. Harry also wanted to make sure that the things Harry had started would be finished, the
unification of Hogwarts and the like. He wanted Ron and Hermione to continue training (if they
wanted) in Asgard because they had made friends with the other trainees and Harry wanted the
people he loved to…well be together. He wanted them to have as many opportunities to be happy
as possible really.

Harry had spent a majority of his life alone. From the age of 1 to 11 he’d been on his own without
any support at all. From 11 to 15 he’d been semi-supported by his friends with the majority of the
adults in his life failing to provide him with the help he’d needed and deserved. He hadn’t yet even
lived for a year in hic current reality and it was so painfully clear to him that he never wanted any
of his loved ones to live the life he’d had. And if he wasn’t going to be there to provide that love
and support they would have to do it for each other.

The conversations with his dad (and Ron!) had helped Harry greatly and he felt much lighter than
he had before going to the Burrow, even if it hadn’t necessarily been a happy time, it had been
somewhat healing. Life was not perfect. He was still carrying around the weight of the horcrux, but
he wasn’t as worried about the future as he had been. He felt like he could breathe.

And now Harry was able to… well have fun.

He and Thor had been planning this prank for a while and for much of the planning Thor had been
more excited than Harry had been, but Harry felt energized in Asgard. Right now his dad believed
that Harry was still on earth spending a last few hours with the Weasleys while his dad had
traveled to Asgard to get a few things together. Thor had snuck him up with the help of Heimdall
and now it was time for an excellent prank.

It didn’t take long for Thor to lure Loki out of the palace and into the city. Thor explained to Loki
that the ravens had escaped and were now damaging the Christmas decorations.

Which to be fair they were.

Eating the berries off of the mistletoe (although it wasn’t actually mistletoe but something far more
edible) and pulling down wreaths made up of branches and decorated with what looked to be
miniature weapons. Nothing that wouldn’t be easily fixable of course but it would be serious
enough for his dad to come down in a hurry.

Within ten minutes of mischief Harry saw his dad rushing through the streets with a Thor at his
heels who was trying desperately not to grin. Harry cawed out a warning to the other ravens who
prepared themselves for a fight. A fight that his dad brought with a vengeance. Harry watched as
his dad shooed birds away and then forcibly magicked them right back to the enclosure. Harry
scattered away from the other ravens who were all flying in different directions trying to avoid
getting caught.

Harry was now quite good at flying as a bird. It had taken practice to manage it but he could now
angle himself to fly along wind currents and even do a few tricks.
This came in handy because it was Harry’s job to keep his dad’s attention. So Harry flew forward
and darted in front of his dad’s face making him sputter.

“I think that’s the one who opened the door!” Thor said pointing at Harry’s retreating form.

“Oh so that’s the trouble maker then?” Loki snarled. “Leave that one to me.”

And so the wild goose chase began.

Harry darted through the streets of Asgard, dodging his dad’s magical attacks like they were
bludgers and staying in his dad’s line of sight like he was an elusive snitch. He would land on some
poorly stacked crates outside a bakery and wait for his dad to turn a corner. When his dad spotted
him and started running towards him, Harry would take off and send the crates tumbling into the
street, slowing his dad down. Next Harry would land on the top of a golden fountain and move
around forcing his dad to jump into the fountain to try and catch him before Harry flew right out
outside of his grasp and far away.

Just out of sight was Thor who had politely asked the ravens to return home and then followed at a
distance.

Harry led his dad on this whole chaotic route until they got back to the royal gardens of the palace.
Once there Harry landed on a bench and pretended not to notice his dad sneaking up on him. His
dad was drenched, his hair had some twigs in it and his tunic was stained with mead from where
Harry had forced him into a collision with someone who was drinking a large goblet of it. Harry
remained still and pretended to preen one of his wings as his dad cast a spell that would hide him
from the sight of a bird.

Harry wasn’t a bird though and so he could see through the spell.

His dad carefully padded across the grass, his face desperate to catch Harry and put him back in the
enclosure. Harry prepared himself as his dad got a meter away from him.

Harry preened his other wing.

His dad moved forward and lifted up both hands.

Harry ruffled himself and settled comfortably.

His dad pounced.

Harry immediately transformed back right as his dad grabbed him.

“BLERG! IT’S ME!”

“AHH!”

Loki lost his grip on Harry and jumped back in shock while Harry started to giggle. From behind a
tree they could both hear Thor start roaring with laughter. His dad was sitting on the grass looking
up at Harry, gaping at the boy who couldn’t stop laughing at the whole situation.

“What?”

“I got you!” Harry giggled. “You never…even…suspected!”

“Harry how did you…when did this happen?”

Thor had fallen over and was still laughing quite loudly. Harry managed to swallow back his
laughs and hold out a hand to help his dad up.

“Remus might have helped.”

“Of course.” His dad scoffed, before taking his hand and pulling himself up. “Should have seen it
coming.”

“So…” Harry trailed off for a moment. “Merry Christmas?”

His dad snorted again before stepping forward and pulling him into a hug.

“I can’t believe it! My son an animagi!” He said, into Harry’s hair. “Good job Starlight, on the
magic and on the prank.”

“Thor helped, with the prank.”

“That much is obvious.” Loki said glancing over at the god of thunder who had finally gotten
himself under control. Loki sighed and looked up at the sun. “Come on Thor, it’s evening and time
for dinner! After that we’re decorating the tree!”

So together all three princes of Asgard made their way inside. They had a small dinner with Odin
and Frigga in the royal wing. Harry spent that time telling his grandparents about the successful
prank and how his first semester had gone. It felt incredibly homey, eating good warm food with
people who cared and loved him. With family that was his and his alone. Harry knew that the war
was still going on, and that Voldemort was on everyone’s mind.

But they’d all decided to put those darker matters aside, forcing their minds on the present pocket
of happiness they were making together.

Once their stomachs were full, they left the private dining room and went to the sitting room.

The sitting room was a large room with a huge fireplace and plenty of magical amenities. It was
the first room that you entered when you went into the private part of the royal wing. It had doors
along the walls that led to the three suites and the other parts of the royal wing. The first suite was
Odin’s and Frigga’s, it had their bedroom, another sitting room, a large bathroom, a weaving room
for Frigga, and Odin’s private office. The second suite was Thor’s and it contained a sitting room,
a room for Thor’s weapons and armor, a bathroom, and a bedroom. The final suite was his dad’s
that had a private library, a sitting room, a bedroom, and a nice bathroom within it.

Anytime Harry stayed overnight in Asgard he would use his dad’s bed or his couch to sleep on.
He’d gotten used to spending time with Frigga or Odin in the sitting room or in his grandparents’
suite depending on the day. He was incredibly familiar with the layout of this part of the palace,
more than any other, except perhaps the training yards.

Which was why he was so surprised to step into the sitting room to find it had been completely
redecorated and there was a new door in the wall. He stumbled and had to be pushed into the room
by a very smug Loki. The room looked like something out of a Christmas Movie. There was the
most perfect evergreen tree, sitting in a place of prominence in the room. Its top reached all the
way to the ceiling which meant it was about 12 feet tall. It filled the room with a wonderful warm
scent.

The walls were decorated with mage lights and garland. There were candles placed around the
room that smelt like cinnamon.
“Come on Starlight.” His dad said. “Go over there.”

“The door?”

“It’s for you.”

“For…me?”

“Normally.” Odin said gruffly. “We’ve a bit more warning time when a new prince is coming, it
took much longer than it should have for us to get this in order.”

“Get what in order?”

“Your room.” Frigga said, as if it was obvious.

“Oh.”

He’d never had a room before.

Sure, Tony had given him a guest room while he’d been in the tower but that had been impersonal,
just a generic room the same as all the other guest rooms. A temporary solution for Harry while he
was there.

This was different. Different from sharing Ron’s room or Gryffindor Tower or Dudley’s second
bedroom.

His dad carefully pushed him and Harry stumbled forward. They ended up right in front of the
door. Harry swallowed and reached out, he pulled on the doorknob and let the door fall open. It
opened up to a sitting room, just like all the other suite doors did. And just like the other three
suites, this sitting room was personalized.

Harry’s sitting room was decorated with the color of his magic. The couches were made of soft
purple fabric with silver stitching. There were three couches, one for himself and Ron and
Hermione. There was a bookshelf on one wall that was filled with books on magical theory as well
as bound eddas, stories of Asgard, some that Harry had heard and some there hadn’t yet been time
to share. One of the shelves was also filled with trinkets that Harry recognized as toys that the
other trainees would often play with. The table placed between the couches had a lower shelf that
was filled with human games, both muggle and not.

There was also a muggle tv hanging on the wall above the fireplace, a promise for movie nights,
something he and his friends had done over the summer and enjoyed.

Harry walked around the room unable to believe his eyes. His family watched him as he carefully
touched the couches and the books. Eventually he turned back to look at them.

“Go on.” His dad said. “Explore. We’ll be waiting for you to decorate the tree when you’re done.”

Harry appreciated that because he really didn’t want to cry happy tears in front of them right then.

The next room was what looked to be a study. There was a desk along one wall that had an
assortment of quills and parchment. There were a few bookshelves with all of the books Harry
could possibly need for his homework. Along another wall there was an armor stand along with a
place for Harry to hang his sword when not in use. There were a few armchairs as well sat near
windows, situated just perfectly for comfortable reading. Finally, the room had a balcony,
something that the other suites lacked, the glass doors had a stand right next to them that was the
perfect size for Harry’s broom.

“You can take off from there.” His dad said pointing to the balcony. “And fly whenever you’d
like.”

“Oh.”

The bedroom was what Harry expected. A large bed just as comfortable and warm as his dad’s
with thick blankets the same color as the couches. There were pretty tapestries on the wall, one of
which showed Harry’s family genealogy. It had a large closet filled with clothing both human and
aesir, clothing Harry had never seen before but had obviously been made with him in mind because
it was all his size. The bedroom also had a glass window on the ceiling that would let Harry look
up at the stars at night from the comfort of his bed.

Finally, there was the bathroom, which was just as luxurious as what the other suites had. A huge
in ground bath that would let Harry soak after a long day’s training along with all the other
amenities that a prince could imagine or desire. As Harry wandered back to the sitting room, he
saw his grandmother sitting on one of his couches (his! His!!).

“Harry.” She said. “What do you think of your room? It was my idea to have it built for you.”

“Why?” Harry croaked out. “You know that I’m…I’m…That I might not…There’s no point in
doing all of this if I’m not going to be here for long.”

“Of course, there’s a point.” Frigga said calmly. “You are my grandson and having a room, a
home, is important, no matter how long you may be here for.”

“Oh.”

“Besides.” Frigga said. “This is…this is my way of saying that you should have a little hope.”

“Hope?” Harry asked.

“I know what I’ve seen in my weaves, I know what the prophecy says.” Frigga said. “And while I
cannot yet see a happy ending, my dear grandson I believe in one. I believe you are going to use
this room for many years. I believe that we will have to redecorate it often as you grow. I believe
that you will spend your next summer here and that you will be free. I believe it with all of my
might, even if I cannot see it, I have faith in it and I hope that you do too.”

And something in her voice, the conviction in her tone, made Harry feel far better than anything
else could. He looked around the sitting room, a room crafted with him in mind, with love. It had
been made because even though Frigga knew his chances, she didn’t care.

“I’ll try.” He said.

“Good.” She smiled. “Now. Let’s go decorate that Midgardian tree and eat far too many sweets.”

And that was exactly what they did.

Harry went back into the sitting room where the rest of them were waiting. There was a large plate
of his dad’s favorite treats, the Asgardian biscuits he snuck to Harry frequently enough back on
earth. His dad had boxes full of ornaments as well as strings of lights that Thor was trying to gently
detangle. The rest of the night was spent laughing and carefully hanging ornaments and making
happy memories together.
His dad and Odin had even set aside their difficulties and had laughed and smiled together as if the
past hadn’t happened, or at least as if it didn’t hurt as much. And that night Harry went to sleep in
his own bed, in his own bedroom, looking up at the Aesir night sky with just a bit of hope
smoldering in his chest.

Harry woke the next morning bright and early and he felt as if he was much younger than his age.
He slowly crept out of his bedroom, walking on soft rich carpet and pushed open the door to the
main sitting room to see that the bottom of the perfectly decorated tree had been filled with gifts of
all sizes. It reminded him of looking through the doorway of his cupboard to look at the pile of
presents left for Dudley.

Except they weren’t for Dudley.

They were for him.

Harry didn’t have to wait long for the others to wake, mostly because his dad had set a spell to
catch anyone trying to open their gifts early that woke him up when Harry got too close to the tree.
His dad stumbled out of his room expecting to see Thor and saw Harry instead. He smiled at him.

“Take a seat, I’ll wake the others.”

It was odd, opening gifts with a family that wanted him. With the Dursleys it had been a bloodbath
made up of wrapping paper as Dudley tore into gifts and left a huge mess for Harry to clean up
later. At Hogwarts he’d been opening gifts in the dormitory and while that had been fun it didn’t
hold a candle to sitting around with his family and watching them open gifts and then slowly
opening his own.

Harry loved the gifts he’d been given, although there weren’t many since most of his gifts had been
stored in his room. Still he was given a blanket weaved by Frigga that would ward off bad dreams,
one of Odin’s old shields, a family heirloom that was an honor to have. Thor gave him a bird stand
of all things, with a wink. His dad gave him a wonderful gift, it was a leather bracelet he could
wear with a silver pendant, the pendant, when pressed, would display a picture of his family. It was
a picture that had been taken when Harry was a baby, it showed his mom holding him and his dad
hugging his mom from behind.

Harry loved it.

They spent the rest of the day lounging, Odin and Frigga had to do some work, but for the most
part it was a calm day for family. Near the evening, they got dressed and went to the Christmas
Feast. It was intense. If Harry had thought the feast after the first Asgardian Quidditch Game was a
lot, then it had nothing on this. People had been partying all day, giving each other gifts and
drinking and laughing.

What was even more intense was how many people brought him gifts. People he had never met
had brought him tokens from their businesses. He was given some delicious bread from a baker, a
knife from a blacksmith, a breeder even tried to give him a horse and his dad was able to help him
accept the gift while promising him the horse would be taken care of and given a place in the royal
stables where it would be fed, brushed and exercised as needed.

Tyr gave him a wrist band. It was made of leather and had a runic pattern pressed into it. Harry had
seen some other apprentices wearing something similar but this was much fancier than the fabric
ones most apprentices wore.

“It’s…well it marks you as my student.” He said. “And I want you to wear it when you go back to
earth, let the world know how proud of you I am.”

“Thank you, Master Tyr.” Harry said smiling. “I’ll wear it every day.”

The hope in his heart grew a bit bigger.

Idunn gave him a book on soul magic, one she’d written herself, as well as an apple. A normal
apple.

“I started growing a few normal trees in my grove.” She said. “Just like my father, you get to be the
first one to taste them.”

It was the best apple Harry had ever had.

The other trainees gave him a gift too, something Harry had absolutely not expected. They all
pitched together and gifted him an Asgardian good luck charm. A small pendant like piece of
metal that you attached to your weapon of choice to give you strength, endurance, and luck during
battle. They weren’t by any means cheap to buy or easy to get ahold of according to his dad, but
the trainees had managed it.

“It’s for your final battle.” Hemrod said. “In all the great stories the hero has to face the big evil by
himself but he has the strength of his shield brothers with him. Take this and our strength will go
with you. Even Baldur helped get it so you know we all mean it.”

That made Harry giggle before he took in a deep breath and looked at all the other trainees.

“Thank you.” He said. “I won’t let you down.”

And he meant it.

 Sirius and Narcissa
Chapter Summary

Sirius meets up with his cousin. You know the one he hasn't spoken to since he was 16
and got kicked out of his house. The cousin who supposedly married 'up' and was now
living in a safe house to avoid the consequences of said husband's bigotry.
That one.

Chapter Notes

ahh last week was so wholesome! We're gearing up for the final battle now you know!
I can feel it in my bones!

Sirius looked at the note Narcissa had handed him, unable to truly believe the words written upon
it. It was surprising Narcissa had been able to find the note at all, given its origins. But she had
been on a mission. She’d gone to Grimmauld Place shortly after Yule and questioned Kreacher
about anything he might know about the Dark Lord. Kreacher, more than willing to work with
someone he deemed not a blood traitor, had revealed the locket as well as a copy of a note that his
younger brother had written as a warning to the Dark Lord. Kreacher had created the copy from
memory upon Narcissa’s request and now Sirius was holding it as if it wasn’t life changing news.

To the Dark Lord

I know I will be dead long before you read this but I want you to know that it was I who discovered
your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in
the hope that when you meet your match you will be mortal once more.

R.A.B.

It was his brother’s handwriting no doubt. Sirius knew that better than anyone alive. He hadn’t
spoken to his brother in years, not since his mom had kicked him out. When he’d died, he’d gotten
drunk at James’ place and cried about all that lost potential. He and his brother had been close as
children, protecting each other from their mom. But they’d drifted as Sirius had pulled away from
pureblood dogma and Regulus had gone towards it.

According to Kreacher, Regulus had died to remove the real horcrux from Voldemort’s hiding
place and replace it with a fake. A fake that Voldemort had no doubt collected once he realized
they were on to him. Sirius highly doubted that Voldemort had realized he had a fake. If he had,
Harry would have felt the absolute rage from that realization through his scar and so far nothing
like that had happened.

But they had the real one. Kreacher had been trying and failing to destroy it for the past 15 years. It
proved that Regulus had changed in all the ways that Sirius had hoped for.

Regulus had defected from the Death Eaters when he realized what Voldemort had done to
Kreacher, when he realized what Voldemort had done to his soul. His younger brother had broken
through their mother’s indoctrination and died a hero. In Sirius’ hand was the last horcrux, aside
from the one in Harry’s scar. Destroying this would make Voldemort as close to mortal as he’d
ever been in 6 decades.

“I can’t believe it.” Sirius said.

“Neither could I.” She said. “Regulus had always been so…loyal.”

“He knew the Dark Lord wasn’t right.” Sirius said. “He figured it out before anyone else did, what
he’d done.”

“He did. He was always the smartest in our family.” Narcissa agreed, tilting her head. “I am sorry
about it though, that he had to die that way. According to Kreacher the cave the locket was hidden
in was guarded by inferi.”

Sirius flinched at that. That was not a good way to go. Not at all. He was glad at least that his
godson had been spared from having to go in there and having to fight his way through whatever
other sick protections Voldemort had put in place.

“We’ll destroy it once Harry gets back. He has the sword of Gryffindor with him.”

“Of course.” Narcissa agreed. “I’m glad I was able to help, in this way. I doubt Kreacher would
have ever revealed this to Harry or anyone else, he was quite protective of it.”

“Thank you.” Sirius said softly. “I don’t imagine it was easy going back to that place.”

“I doubt anyone but Bellatrix has fond memories of that place.” Narcissa sniffed. “Even I found it
unnerving and I only spent a few weeks there each summer.”

“Lucky you.”

“I am glad you’re alive, Siri.” She said seriously. “Andromeda still isn’t interested in speaking with
me.”

“I wonder why that is.”

“Hush up.” She said. “I know I made my share of mistakes, that much is obvious, but I’m here
now and I won’t make them again.”

Sirius nodded in understanding. He didn’t know how deep his cousin’s change of heart really went,
but now with Lucius out of her life and her son’s dark mark removed she had no reason to remain
loyal to the Dark Lord and every reason to join Harry’s side. It surprised him that she’d reached
out to Andy at all. The two sisters hadn’t spoken since Sirius was a kid and Andy had been cut out
of the family for marrying Ted.

Only Sirius had kept in contact with her, and he’d had to do it very sparingly lest his mother find
out. Sirius had been the only family alerted when Andy had gotten pregnant with Tonks all those
years ago. He’d gotten to meet the baby Nymphadora only a few times before things had fallen
apart. The last time had been when the shapeshifter had been seven years old. He’d been surprised
that the girl had remembered him when they’d met again 15 years later. But she had and it had
been such a painful relief when she’d greeted him as Uncle Siri and told him that she was glad he
was innocent.

“I’ve met Nymphadora.”

“She likes going by Tonks.”

“So, she’s said.”

“You know you really can’t afford to isolate her.”

She gave him a look but didn’t argue the point.

“We’re all that’s left.” She said. “You, her, and myself. There’s Bellatrix of course…but that’s it.
The glorious Black Family has been reduced to nothing.”

“That’s what aligning yourself with an insane fascist gets you I guess.”

“Could you be serious for one moment?”

“Probably not.”

“You’re the head of our house.” She said. “You should be more concerned with the state of it.”

“I’m going to let you in on a secret, Cissa. I don’t give a fuck about the Black line.” Sirius said. “It
was filled with a bunch of bastards who were inbred beyond comprehension and far more
concerned with committing atrocities than they were with anything else. The Blacks belong in the
past, all of it does.”

“You can’t mean that.”

“I do.” Sirius said. “I mean honestly! Look at the world Harry is fighting for, do you think a family
like ours is going to survive in that? Truly?”

She stared at him for a moment, her eyes hard, eventually she looked away.

“But what of my son? I can’t leave him with nothing.”

So that’s what this was about. Cissa was trying to get Sirius to star rebuilding the Blacks so that
when the time came, there would be a powerful house for her son to inherit. She’d clearly realized
that the Malfoy name was tarnished beyond repair. If Harry won the war, no one would want to
support the family that had been Voldemort’s right hand. She was getting ready to divorce herself
entirely from the name and bring her and her son back to the Black name in preparation.

The Blacks still held a lot of political power, or at least they would if there were any left. Sirius
was still believed to be dead and he was the only Black left. When it came out that Sirius was alive
and his name was cleared, he’d be able to reclaim his titles and the power associated with them. It
wasn’t something Sirius had ever thought he’d actually have and he wanted it even less now than
he had as a teenager.

The political system where the most powerful positions were tossed around like candy between the
most powerful pureblood families wasn’t sustainable any longer. All of the pureblood families,
well a large majority of them, had aligned themselves with Voldemort and signed their own death
warrants. The wizarding world would never let them get away with keeping their positions after all
the suffering they’d brought about by supporting the Dark Lord.

The writing was on the wall and everyone could read it. Harry had been making political waves far
larger than he was even aware of. Harry had basically openly split from Dumbledore, in a move
that had shocked everyone. Dumbledore was the traditional hero, the Leader of Light. A title that
had been passed from pureblood to pureblood for decades. It was a position for a hero. A position
that had only ever been held by a pureblood. A position that had given Dumbledore so much
political capital that he had done seemingly nothing with. The war was still going on, people were
dying and now it seemed like the governments of the world were looking for someone better.

Harry was a half-blood no matter how you looked at it. His mother was as muggleborn as they
came, Harry had been raised as a muggle. He was unknowingly taking on positions of power that
purebloods had held onto for centuries. And by his side was a muggleborn far more talented than
seen in the last two generations and a blood traitor.

Sirius had watched as Harry had broken through the glass ceiling and made it clear to the public
that the time of pureblood superiority was over. Voldemort had shown the true colors of the ruling
class and no one was going to forget it.

Cissa was grasping at straws.

“Your son is going to have to remake himself and what it means to be a Malfoy and a Black. His
wealth will still be there but he’s not going to be like your father or his or mine. The reign of the
pureblood houses is going to end with this war, and you know it. We’ll all have to adapt to a world
where power is shared equally.”

“But it’s always been this way.” She said. “Purebloods have always…”

“Purebloods destroyed the system themselves. They backed a genocidal maniac, they decided that
they didn’t care about his methods as long as they got to keep their power. It’s over Cissa.”

“I trained my son to be a leader.”

“I hate to break it to you, but he is still one.” Sirius said. “I’ve talked to the kid you know? He
realized already that he can’t be like his father if he’s going to survive in this new world, on the
side he’s chosen. He’s adapting. Draco is going to be just fine.”

“If he survives.”

“Well yes there is that. There’s no guarantee any of us are going to live through this.”

They both looked over at the locket in Sirius’ hands and thought about what they knew Harry was
carrying. Sirius abruptly tried to change the subject.

“Are you coming for the Christmas party?”

“The muggle Christmas party?” She sneered.

“If you want Andy to talk to you I bet coming would help.”

“Do you honestly think that would work?”

“Can’t possibly hurt.” Sirius tempted. “Come on, Cissa, there’ll be good food, new music to listen
to. Opportunities to befriend your new side of the war.”

And that swayed her. His cousin had never been one to deny political opportunities. It was the
reason she’d married Lucius in the first place.

“Very well.”

“Great!” Sirius said. “Come on, let’s head back to New York then. I know Harry and James’ll be
back soon from Asgard.”
Sirius had gone out to the safehouse Tony had bought in Scotland to meet with his dear now only
slightly evil cousin when she’d messaged him. Sirius hadn’t really wanted to leave New York. His
name hadn’t yet been cleared in Europe, the Americans had accepted his story and he was under
their protection for as long as he remained in the states. Remus was also settling there comfortably,
the Americans had programs to help werewolves get wolfsbane treatments, something neither of
them had known about when they’d run off together at the end of Harry’s third year.

But Narcissa had written and told him she had news and he’d gone.

Now he had a note, a horcrux, and proof that his baby brother had been a hero.

“Let me go get Draco.” She said. “We’ll all go together.”

“Sounds fine to me.”

He’d spoken to Draco a handful of times, he’d listened to his godson complain about him far more
often. Sirius knew the type of kid he was. He knew the boy’s childhood because it was eerily
similar to his own, except his mother actually loved him. Draco had the makings of a good kid.
Lucius had filled his head with crap and he was just now starting to clear the junk out. If he
managed it, Sirius could see him doing great things. He had the same drive that all great wizards
needed.

He just had to finish pulling his head out of his ass.

Sirius waiting by the closet door that would take them back to Avengers Tower. It took about three
minutes for Narcissa to return with Draco. They were both wearing formal robes.

“Nope.” Sirius said. “You are not going to Tony’s party wearing that.”

“It’s the appropriate clothing for a party.”

“Not a muggle one.” Sirius said looking Draco over. “Unless it was a really weird costume party.
You’re going stick out like a sore thumb.”

“If you expect me to dress like Potter does then…”

Sirius had to admit that Draco had a point. Harry, when left to his own devices, wore clothing that
was too big and unflattering. Even when he shopped for himself he gravitated towards baggy
clothing. This was likely because that was what he knew from the Dursleys and there really hadn’t
been time to correct that. At least his wizarding clothing and aesir clothing was fitted properly.

“My godson’s taste in clothing is…questionable I’ll give you that. I blame myself for not being
there to teach him better, you don’t have to be a lost cause.”

“Then what do you suggest I wear?”

Sirius tilted his head a bit and then flicked his wrist, sending his wand into his hand. With a wave
he banished the robes, transfigured the dark dress pants to a dark wash jean and the shoes to some
good looking muggle shoes.

“And roll up the sleeves on your dress shirt.” He said. “Makes you look approachable.”

“This is ridiculous.” Draco sputtered.

“I promise it’s not. And Cissa, all you have to do is wear a nice dress, skip the robes.”
She nodded her head and used magic to do as Sirius suggested. Draco still looked a bit
uncomfortable in the jeans. The fabric was one a pureblood aristocrat like himself would never
dare to be seen in.

“Trust me.” Sirius said. “I’m not steering you wrong on this one kid. You want to fit in at the
party? Wear that.”

“Fine. But one hint that I’m dressed improperly and you’re changing it back.”

It would be a fun time to pull a prank Sirius could admit but with the revelation about Regulus he
just wasn’t in the mood.

“On my honor. Come on, let’s go.”

They followed him through the door. It was five hours earlier in New York which was just fine by
Sirius. The party wouldn’t really start for a few more, which gave them enough time to exchange
presents comfortably and greet the returning gods from their trip to Asgard. Everyone was hopeful
that a breakthrough would happen with the horcrux removal. Harry had started to look a bit run
down and Sirius knew he could use some good news.

“Welcome back, Mr. Black.” Jarvis said. “I take it your journey was successful?”

“Yep! Let Remus know I’ve got the final horcrux.”

They knew there was only one more, the one in his hand. Harry had done the spell Idunn had given
him to identify how many more there were left to hunt and it had shown him the diadem and the
presence of one more. They hadn’t gone searching for it, because they weren’t yet sure if it was
one that Voldemort had collected himself and they didn’t want to risk starting a fight with him until
they were sure they could win it.

“Truly?” Jarvis asked.

“Yep! Narcissa found it, in Grimmauld Place of all homes in London.” Sirius said. “Honestly what
are the odds?”

“I imagine you don’t want the actual calculated odds.”

“No sense of humor.” Sirius scoffed. “I don’t know why Stark keeps you around.”

“I could say the same to you.”

Sirius stuck his tongue out at the nearest camera in response.

“Very mature, Siri.” Narcissa said.

“Never claimed to be that.” Sirius said. “Come on, Jarvis, tell me where are the rest of them?”

“They are on the party floor as Mr. Stark calls it. Please take the elevator down.”

Sirius really did like Tony. He liked pranking the man and he just admired a man who built a 93
floor building and made one of those floors a dedicated party zone. What a guy. He led the two
purebloods through the penthouse to the elevator. They’d met Jarvis already and were used to his
voice ringing from seemingly nowhere. The safe house Narcissa was staying in was very, very
muggle and the woman had been getting used to it day by day. Jarvis had been teaching her how
each thing worked. Apparently, the AI was well practiced in that since he’d had to teach Steve and
Thor many of the same things. At least Narcissa didn’t have super strength to contend with.

Draco was less practiced but it was clear he’d been picking up some things in the time he’d spent
with his mom in the safe house after Yule.

The elevator took them right down and the door slid open to reveal a large open room with couches
and tacky muggle Christmas decorations everywhere. There was a Christmas tree with Avenger
themed ornaments hanging off it, with dozens of gifts piled beneath it. The Avengers, Remus, and
Grangers were all spread out across the room, drinking hot chocolate and cider and egg nog and
chatting with each other.

“I come bringing gifts!” Sirius said. “Great tidings of joy!”

“You brought the Malfoys.” Natasha pointed out.

“And the final horcrux! Delivered without any emotional harm coming to our dear Harry.”

“That is good news.” Clint said, lifting up his cup in a sardonic cheer. “Lord knows the kid doesn’t
need anymore shit piled onto him.”

“Ron called and told us about what happened at Yule.” Hermione said, looking at Draco. “Was it
really as bad as all that?”

“Yes.” Draco said. “Potter’s vision wasn’t…very hopeful.”

The kid sounded almost haunted by it. Sirius had heard the story from Ron, the brightness of the
fire and the sheer desolation in Harry’s voice when he said he’d be hugging his mum.

It wasn’t something Sirius liked to dwell on.

“Come on. It’s Christmas. Take it from the guy who spent 12 Christmasses with dementors,
dwelling on the sad stuff won’t help anything.” Sirius said. “So, come on. Buck up. We’ve got all
the horcruxes now, a way to destroy the ones who need destroying and the goddess of soul magic
herself working on saving Harry. We’re all together and there’s good food and excellent muggle
carols to sing. Let’s sing ‘em. Last thing we need is Harry, James and Thor coming back to a mope
fest.”

“I hate to say it.” Remus said. “But he’s right.”

“Hurtful.” Sirius said. “You’re hurtful Moony.”

Remus grinned.

“Come on Sirius. Sing us a muggle carol, since you’re so familiar with them.”

Sirius was more than willing to sing Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer. Lily had taught him that one
and Sirius had memorized it to tease James. Every Christmas since they’d learnt to be animagi,
Sirius had made sure to tag Prongs with a glowing red nose and send him flying. After that, he sang
‘Grandma got ran over by a Reindeer’ to great success. The mood was lightened and most people
were willing to put dark things aside for the party.

Sirius was purposefully not thinking about his baby brother.

Harry and the others arrived from Asgard, along with the Weasleys about an hour after Sirius
brought Malfoys back. Harry was wearing a purple aesir tunic with silvery gray trousers and black
boots. James had explained that most magic users would wear the color of their magic as a sign of
status in Asgard, and so Harry’s wardrobe had now been accented with purples. The kid looked
good in the royal color, it really made his eyes pop. On his hip was the sword of Gryffindor.

Sirius walked up to his godson, who’d just gotten free of James and Thor to go change into more
muggle clothing for the party.

“Pup!” Sirius said. “I’ve got a present. Well Narcissa got you a present, but I’m delivering it.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the locket. Harry’s smile slipped a little as he sensed the
dark magic in the object.

“She found the last one?”

“Yep.” Sirius said. “If you want, I’m sure your dad won’t mind taking it back to Asgard so that
Idunn can have another test subject-”

“No need.” Harry said. “I’ll take care of it.”

“What? Does that mean…”

“No. Idunn hasn’t figured it out yet.” Harry said. “The diadem’s gone.”

“Then shouldn’t you be sending this one to Idunn?”

Harry shook his head and gently took the locket from Sirius’ grip.

“Sirius.” He said. “I’m going to get rid of this one. It’s time.”

“But.”

“I have hope.” Harry said. “That everything is going to work out and I’m not going to risk letting
this last one get away from us. Once it’s gone all that’s left is me and him and…and I believe that’s
how it’s meant to be.”

He sounded so calm, so at peace with it. There was no fear, no agony. He was looking as if he truly
believed that he would win, that he would live, that the world would be safe. He believed it with all
of his heart, it shone out of his eyes like sunlight.

“Oh.” Sirius sniffed.

“Yeah.” He said. “Let me take care of this real quick, then we can start the party.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I am.” Harry said. “Come with me?”

“Always.”

So together godfather and godson went to the Hulk room and got ready to destroy the last horcrux.
There wasn’t any special potions they needed to brew, or ancient words to invoke. No, it was a
simple affair, almost disappointingly so compared to the build-up. For the past three months they’d
been running around in fear of these things. Sirius himself had been so disgusted by their very
existence, and what it meant for his godson.

Watching Harry drop the locket onto the ground, remove his sword, lift it up and stab the tip
straight down into it was only slightly gratifying.

The horcrux screamed in agony and began to spurt out what looked like blood. Harry kept the
sword still until it stopped and then he stepped back, waving a hand to banish the mess someplace
far away.

“How do you feel?” Sirius asked.

“Peaceful.” Harry answered, looking down at the spot on the floor that used to be a soul shard of
his greatest enemy. “No matter what happens next time he and I meet, he’s defeatable. If I…kill
him and survive, I have years to figure out how to remove the one in my forehead. If he takes me
down, then…well anyone can kill him after. It doesn’t matter what happens, the world will be safe
and we’ll win.”

“You dying will never be a win, pup.”

“It’s sort of a win.”

Sirius snorted and gently slung an arm over his godson’s shoulders. They were the same height
now, Harry might have been a smidgeon taller, which made the position a bit awkward but Sirius
pretended that it didn’t.

“I’m proud of you kid.”

“Really?”

“Really.” He said. “I mean honestly, you’re what I want to be when I grow up.”

“What?”

“I told your mum I’d never grow up, not if I could help it, but you might just change my mind pup,
you’re just that awesome.”

He finished that off by reaching up and messing up Harry’s hair making him cry out in denial,
laughter clear in his voice. Sirius loved hearing that laugh. He felt like he could never hear it
enough. He’d missed out on so many laughs over the years because of the stupid decisions he’d
made. He’d chosen revenge against Peter over taking care of Harry. He’d chosen to trust
Dumbledore, the ultimate authority figure, over his own gut. He’d feared the responsibility of
being Harry’s caregiver, he’d wanted to be reckless and angry and…

Well Dumbledore had made sure they’d all paid the price of that.

Hearing Harry laugh now was like a dose of pure joy. It was enough to power a thousand patroni,
and bright enough to drive away a million dementors. Harry sounded like the kid he was always
meant to be as he gently pushed Sirius away telling him to stop messing with his hair. Sirius
grinned and jumped forward trying to give the kid a noogie. Harry laughed again and started
playfully wrestling with Sirius, careful not to use too much strength.

“Are you two done in here?” Remus asked.

“Moony! We were just-”

“Being ridiculous? Come on, Steve wants to start handing out presents and we’re all waiting on
you. The other guests are going to be coming in less than an hour so we’ve got to hop to it.”
“Sorry Uncle Moony.” Harry said grinning. “We just had to take care of the last horcrux.”

“Already? I missed it?” Remus asked, his face breaking out into a huge grin at the moniker Harry
had given him.

“Wasn’t all that exciting really.” Harry shrugged.

“Yeah.” Sirius agreed. “Kind of a let down.”

“Not like the prank I pulled on dad in Asgard.” Harry teased.

“Oh pup.” Sirius sang. “You’ve been holding out on us!”

So Harry told them about the great raven escapade, he used magic to switch his clothing as he did
so and all three of them went back up to the party floor. Sirius was laughing into Harry’s shoulder
by the time they got up there.

“JAMES!” Sirius said. “Your son! He’s a genius! A savant! The greatest thing to have ever walked
this planet!”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“He got you good!”

“I helped.” Thor huffed.

“Yes yes very funny.” James said. “Sit down, Padfoot, it’s gift time.”

Sirius snickered at James’ sour face and sat down next to his best friend. 15 years ago, he’d felt as
if the entire world had ended. It had been his first Christmas in Azkaban and he’d spent it crying.

He intended to spend this one laughing.

And he had a feeling no one was going to stop him.

 Career Services
Chapter Summary

Minerva calls Harry into her office at the beginning of spring. It's time for plan for that
young man's future after all.

Chapter Notes

As you all can tell it's nearly time for the big fight! I promise to write beyond the final
battle (and not just an epilogue 19 years later lol) so the story isn't totally finished,
even after the main plot is completed.

“Mr. Potter. A word if you will.”

“Of course, Professor.”

Harry Potter had returned to Hogwarts with slightly chubby cheeks. The kind of chub that came
after a long winter of far too much food and a lot of rest. It was a look Minera had never seen on
the boy and it suited him. Even if the chub had disappeared within days of being back at Hogwarts
and having to walk up and down 7 flights of stairs twice a day just to get to the Gryffindor dorms.

Still the look had been gratifying while it lasted.

James had looked quite pleased with himself for successfully fattening up his son over winter
break. A true accomplishment if the amount the demi-god ate was any indication. Minerva had
mentioned it to the man and he had preened in the staff room. James had told her that he’d been
slowly, ever so slowly, increasing his son’s portions so that they better matched what he needed
and over Winter Break they’d finally reached their goal. Harry was now eating enough at each
meal and asking for snack breaks when he needed them.

Harry could now out eat an entire quidditch team, and most people had noticed. Harry explained it
away as a symptom of his increased magical power, after all that much magic needed to be
powered by something. And it was a reasonable enough explanation that no one questioned it too
much, it also helped confirm for the more suspicious Slytherins that Harry was as powerful as he
appeared to be.

The rest of winter had passed the school by with little to no chaos. The lack of the Weasley Twins
was felt, even if their products were invading the castle at an unnerving rate. Since winter was
over, the Quidditch cup was set to start up again that next weekend with a game between
Hufflepuff and Slytherin. It would be the first game in centuries perhaps where the Hufflepuff and
Slytherin teams were friends off the field and was bound to be quite interesting as a result.

Minerva led Harry back to her office, the boy walking confidently by her side. When they got to
her office, she motioned for Harry to take a seat and flicked her wrist to open her biscuit tin for the
boy. Harry dutifully took a biscuit to eat while Minerva sat down.
“Now.” She said. “Last year we had a meeting about your future plans.”

“Yeah. With Umbridge.”

Minerva shuddered a little at that and didn’t correct the boy’s tone. She had after all cursed the
woman quite effectively. Last, she had heard the woman had had to be confined to St. Mungo’s
until the curses could be removed.

“Yes. Be that as it may, in that meeting we spoke about your desire to be an Auror, which is a fine
career choice. But…”

“But I was supposed to take Potions.” Harry finished. “And I didn’t qualify.”

“You don’t sound too upset by that.”

“Well I’m not honestly sorry to be away from Professor Snape.” Minerva gave the boy a look but
he merely munched on the rest of his biscuit.

“Be that as it may.” She said. “This still leaves you at loose ends as to what to do now. I don’t like
to have my students graduate without any solid plans.”

“Erm Professor.”

“Yes?”

“Well, I don’t know if you know this, but there’s a war on.”

“I am aware.”

“Yeah and well…I’m sort of a big part of it.”

“Yes, the Chosen One I believe the news is calling you.” She said. “But that is not a career, nor
should it be. The war will end and when it does, you will still need something to fill your time
with.”

“I’ve an apprenticeship.” Harry said. “With Lord Tyr in Asgard.”

“And Tyr is?” She asked suspiciously.

“He’s a warrior, professor.”

“Mr. Potter, do you want to be a warrior in Asgard?”

“Uhm.”

“That’s what I thought.” She said primly. “So if not an auror, and not a warrior, then what?”

“I…don’t know?” He said, as if asking her to tell him the answer. It wasn’t an uncommon
response, most students weren’t exactly sure what they wanted to be. Of course, Harry had it much
more difficult than most. Most students didn’t have prophecies telling them they were meant to
save the world. Minerva was certain Harry should think about it though. Mostly because once he
saved the world, he was going to have to live in it.

“You are an incredibly talented young man, if there is something you wish to do, I’ve no doubt
you could succeed in doing it, even being an auror, your experience would probably qualify you
for the job even without the Potions NEWT.” Minerva told him. “Is there anything at all that’s
interested you in your classes? Anything at all and I can help you find good options.”

Harry rubbed his left arm a bit awkwardly and leaned back in his chair. It was obvious the boy
hadn’t given much thought to life after the war and no wonder, he was so young, it was impossible
for him to envision a world not consumed by it. Even Minerva had a hard time seeing it, she’d
lived through two wizarding wars after all. She gave the boy a few moments to think over her
question before speaking again.

“How is your tutoring club going?”

“What? Oh it’s going great. Everyone did real well on their exams.” Harry said, something
Minerva knew to be true, she hadn’t seen a first year class this successful in decades. “I think most
people are starting to get along well too. The dueling club stuff is good, most people’ve mastered
the shield charm now and we’re starting to practice variations of it.”

“That’s impressive.” Minerva complimented. “Do you like running it?”

“Yeah I guess.” Harry shrugged. “The first years are nice and all, it’s good to know everyone can
defend themselves now too. After all the attacks that’ve happened here I don’t want any other
students getting hurt.”

“That’s admirable.” Minerva said. “But the tutoring, do you like that?”

“Yes?”

“It’s not a complicated question, Mr. Potter.”

“Sorry.” He said. “I think I do? I mean it’s fun, not like quidditch fun but I wouldn’t have done it if
I hated it. Why?”

“Have you ever considered being a teacher?”

If the stunned look on his face was any indication, he clearly had not. Minerva hid her smirk
behind a sip of her always warm tea and waited for him to respond.

“I could teach?”

“You have a natural inclination for it.” She said. “All you’d need to do is get a mastery in whatever
subject you wished to teach and then look for open positions, there are many other schools other
than Hogwarts and with your talent Mr. Potter you could teach anywhere, even at the master level
if you wished.”

“The Master level?”

“We’ve schools that are similar to muggle universities.” Minerva explained. “And that is where
some magic users gain their masteries in magic, if they choose to not go the traditional apprentice
route. I gained one at a Mastery School in London as a young witch decades ago. Teaching there is
considered one of the greatest honors in the wizarding world. Some of the greatest strides in
magical research are done in mastery schools, you’d never be without challenging magic to learn
and study and you’d be able to guide others.”

“That sounds like something Hermione would like.”

“Trust me, she is very much aware of that option.”

Harry smiled and snatched another biscuit.

“I don’t think I’d want to teach on that level.” He said. “I like the first years.”

“I like them too.” She said. “That’s why I’m teaching here instead.”

Harry smiled at that and bit into his second biscuit.

“It’s an option.” She said. “And one you should consider on your own time. If you want to teach,
then I can help you prepare to find a Master to work under or a Mastery school to apply to, to get
your mastery.”

“And I could get my mastery in anything? Like defense?”

“If you wanted.” She said. “You could also do it in charms or transfigurations, you work quite well
in both.”

The boy nodded thoughtfully and then spoke up.

“Are there…other things you think I could do?”

“There is one other idea I had.” She said smiling a little.

“Really?”

“Yes.” She said. “You recall Viktor Krum?”

Harry’s eyes widened and her smile did the same.

“What? You…No.” He said. “Me?”

“Mr. Potter, if you wanted to play Quidditch for a living, I can’t think of anyone more suited.”

“Really?”

“Mr. Potter, the first time you flew on a broom you managed a perfect wronksi feint with my office
window.” She said causing the boy to laugh a little. “If you wanted it, you could have it. Quidditch
teams generally hold open tryouts every few years, depending on the strength of their teams and
current win streaks. You would need to do research on when and where these tryouts are being
held but you could, as you are right now, fly well enough to qualify.”

Minerva would never admit to having done research into this. She would never tell anyone about
the quidditch magazines that now littered her room and the letters she’d written to professional
players about just such a topic. No one needed to know that at all.

No one needed to know because the boy was brightening up at the very thought of playing
Quidditch full time.

It was not the sort of career that she normally would suggest for a student, for most it was unlikely
to work out and dangerous to boot. She wasn’t lying when she thought Harry could manage it,
besides that he was a demi-god and she doubted a bludger could do him much harm anymore. If he
wanted to fly on his broom and have fun for years and years playing professional quidditch once
the war was done, who was Minerva to tell him no?

“I could play quidditch.” He breathed.

“You could even make the Chudley Cannons win the World Cup if you wanted.”

Harry laughed at that, everyone knew that team hadn’t won since 1892.

“That’d make Ron happy.”

“But would it make you happy?”

“You know professor.” He said, a slightly stunned look on his face. “I think it might.”

“Then that is something to keep in mind.” She said. “Take another biscuit, Mr. Potter.”

Harry smiled and did exactly what he was told.

Minerva let him go with a few more words of encouragement and a plan to meet again in a month
and discuss any new ideas Harry had about what he wanted to do.

“And Mr. Potter? Being a Prince of Asgard is not an acceptable answer.”

“I’ll keep that in mind Professor.”

“See that you do.”

Minerva felt quite pleased with herself and that good mood buoyed her through the seventh year
NEWT lecture she had after that and the third year hufflepuff-ravenclaw class she had right before
dinner. She made her way to the feasting hall, with a barely noticeable spring in her step.

“What’s gotten into you?” Pomona asked. “You were practically dancing to your seat.”

“Oh hush.” Minerva said. “I’m entirely composed.”

“Sure you are.” Filius muttered.

She gave the man a side eye for his tone but didn’t deny it.

“I had a meeting with Mr. Potter about potential career options that he might find interesting. It
was productive.” She answered.

“You did what?” James hissed, leaning over his plate of food to give her a look.

“Calm down, professor. It’s my job as his head of house to offer career support.”

“Well yes but the war.”

“Will not last forever and Mr. Potter, like all my students, should plan for the future.”

James paused, glanced over at his son, who was talking to his friends about quidditch and grinning
brightly.

“Of course.” He said. “You’re right, of course.”

“Well what sort of careers is he looking into?” Pomona asked. “I know you said he considered
being an auror, right?”

“We’ve decided against that option.” Minerva answered. “Currently I believe the top choice is
professional quidditch.”
There was a pause as the three other teachers listening to her considered that. James looked like he
was fit to burst with pride at the idea.

“Oh Minerva.” Filius said. “That’s delightful.”

“I thought so.” Minerva said. “After all, if the boy wins the war and then goes on to play
professional quidditch, within a decade most people will only know him for his snitch catching
record. I can’t think of a more fitting ending for the Dark Lord than for the person who defeated
him being famous for something else.”

And that made James giggle, high enough in pitch that he had to magically silence himself so that
he didn’t draw attention to their group.

“Professional Quidditch.” He whispered. “That’s wonderful.”

“I also mentioned that he could teach, and he seemed intrigued.” Minerva said. “He likes tutoring
the first years, I think he could find a career in that fulfilling.”

That made James smile quite softly, a tender thing towards his wonderful son. Slowly the
conversation continued forward after that, this was not the place for James to discuss Harry. So
they waited till the evening and retired to Filius’ chambers to drink wine and gossip about students.
James took this opportunity to grill Minerva on everything his son had said about his future career
and Minerva was in a forgiving enough mood to allow it.

It also might have been Filius’ excellent wine.

Minerva went to bed feeling quite accomplished with herself overall.

The next morning they had a staff meeting, something that was always very entertaining.
Especially this year since James and Severus were being forced to interact in ways that were
incredibly cringeworthy. According to James, Severus had to try to attempt to ‘befriend’ Loki and
sway him to the Dark Lord’s side. He had to do this in view of the Slytherins as well as in private,
in order to be convincing.

This meant that every staff meeting was filled with Severus gritting his teeth and trying to be nice
to James while James just smiled at him.

Minerva had a lot of things she wouldn’t admit to, and enjoying staff meetings was one of them.

Sure enough, James took a seat right next to Severus a grin on his face.

“Good morning Severus.” James purred. “How was your week?”

“It was pleasant.” Snape drawled, his teeth gritted.

“You know I absolutely have to know, how did you deal with Potter for five years? The boy is a
bit much isn’t he? Running around the castle with a sword of all things, who does he think he is?”

One of the wonderful things about this was that Severus knew exactly who was talking to him,
who was repeating words Severus had spat for years with an ironic lilt. Minerva might think of the
man before her as James, might even treat him like she had when he was her very human student.
But it was in these times that Minerva could see the god in him. The way he sat next to Severus,
every line of his body placed carefully, every muscle in his face lined up just so.

To the casual observer, he looked friendly, intrigued. He looked as if he liked nothing more than to
listen to whatever Severus had to say, agreeable and more than friendly. But just below the surface
there was something sharp. Something in the line of his lips that said I know what you’ve said
about my son Severus. There was a warning there, a promise rather. James knew what Severus had
done, what he had failed to do, and he had no plans to forget it.

Every joke he told at Harry’s expense in the name of keeping Harry’s biology a secret for a few
days longer was a promise. It was James’ way of making it clear how much he hated what Severus
had done in the last five years.

I know what you are.

I’ll make you regret it.

And Severus had to pretend that he couldn’t hear those threats while he tried to woo James to the
Dark Lord’s side. Normally Minerva wouldn’t enjoy watching something like that, she didn’t like
threats. She liked promises and blunt actions, it was the Gryffindor in her. But she couldn’t stop
James from doing it. Severus had been lashing out at students for far too long and nothing Minerva
had done had shaken the man out of it.

At least James could cow the man.

“Potter is young, shortsighted.” Severus said. “He’s not worth following, really, no matter what his
ego suggests.”

“Oh yes.” James drawled. “His ego.”

Severus flinched, just a bit.

“Gentlemen.” Dumbledore said. “It’s time we begin. Filius, if you would let us know how things
are going in your house?”

“Of course, headmaster.” Filius said. “I must admit it’s been quite a long time since my house has
had such a good start to a spring, my first and second years are doing far better than previous years.
I’ve had a record number of points given out and the lowest amount of late homework turned in so
far. My prefects tell me that there were hardly any problems studying for winter exams. Normally I
have to bother Poppy or Severus for more calming potions since my students tend to…ah panic a
bit come test time, especially the youngest ones. But I only had to help with three panics and that
was for upper years studying for OWLS and NEWTs.”

The ravenclaws were always so fragile around exam time.

Or at least they used to be.

“I do believe it was the Gryffindors that helped.” Filius said looking over and smiling at Minerva.
“Gave my students a bit of mettle.”

“Well,” Minerva said. “Your ravenclaws certainly gave my lions a bit of dedication and care to
their essays.”

Filius wiggled, pleased by the compliment.

“It is nice to see the students working together so well. Pomona? How are your badgers?”

“Oh, just wonderful.” She enthused. “You know my firsties tend to be terribly homesick in the first
few months, and when they come back from winter break its usually much the same, but oh, it’s
been much better this year. They’ve all settled in so nicely you know, I honestly think it’s the
Slytherin first years that helped, shored them up, gave them a bit of independence.”

Severus lifted up one eyebrow at the compliment, it was a rare thing for his snakes to be
complimented for anything. Dumbledore continued the conversation by asking Minerva for her
update. Minerva was more than happy to report that her lions were actually all passing their
classes, perhaps not with entirely flying colors, but they were passing and not getting into as many
fights or causing problems on purpose as they were wont to do when they got bored. Discipline,
something Gryffindors weren’t generally known for, was being shared and it showed.

Before Dumbledore could ask Severus for an update on the 4 th house, the man gasped in shock.
Severus leaned forward, gripping at his arm in pain.

“Severus?” She asked as the man leaned forward as if he was under attack.

“The wards.” Albus said, leaning forward to try and comfort Severus.

“Something’s coming.” James said. “I can feel it.”

Then there was violent banging on the door.

“PROFESSORS!” Ron Weasley yelled from the other side of the door. “It’s Voldemort! Harry’s
scar’s on fire!”

“It’s time.” Minerva said. “Come on, we must protect the students.”

Winter’s rest was over and now spring had come, and it brought war with it. Minerva gripped her
wand and opened the door to see Ron Weasley already in his armor and a well strung bow on his
back with a full quiver of arrows.

“It’s time.” She repeated, feeling that knowledge settle in her bones. The war was here and it was
careening towards an end no one could foresee. “You best get back to Mr. Potter, we’ll handle the
rest.”

“Right.” Ron said. “Good luck Professor.”

“You had better survive this, Mr. Weasley.” She said as the boy began to run away.

“That’s the plan.”

He had a plan?

That made one of them.

Although…perhaps she could finally try out that armor activation spell. She had always wanted to
see what it would do.
 Voldemort Brings the War
Chapter Summary

Voldemort knows pain. At this point it's all he knows, and he loves it.

Chapter Notes

It's part one of the big battle! This is going to be written in more than one part so I
apologize ahead for the cliffhanger this week!

It had hurt the first time.

He could admit now to being surprised at the pain of it. No other dark magic spell had filled him
with such agony as that one did. He had been breathless with it, kneeling in that girl’s bathroom,
his journal on the ground in front of and Myrtle’s corpse by his side. The blood on his hands would
never truly wash out, he would always see it, spotting his fingers and knuckles and he would revel
in it.

When the ritual had finished, he had felt stronger, invulnerable.

And numb.

But that was the same thing wasn’t it? The lack of feeling made him better than anything else had.
He was unassailable now. No one could touch him or defeat him. No one would stop him from his
purpose, not Dumbledore not even the god that his caretakers back at the orphanage kept insisting
would punish him. He was a god now.

The second time he did it, it hurt, but he expected the pain, he was prepared for it. The pain felt
lesser somehow, as if he’d become inoculated against it. Or like his soul had finally bowed to his
will and realized the necessity of it all.

He kneeled on the ground and placed the diadem at his knees and let a part of him enter it and it
became him.

The third and fourth time, it felt similar to a pin prick. Pain was his constant friend, he welcomed it
into his life like a familiar lover. The same pain he spread out to others. He watched as the golden
cup turned brassy with him and the locket hardened into a thing beyond the strength of man. He
was better, stronger, more. The gods would cower before him, the very Fates themselves would
bow to him. He knew it, he had become eternity. The fifth time felt natural to him. He took the ring
that had belonged to his worthless family and he let it tarnish with his soul, he had looked at the
ugly stone and sneered. Now it was something more, something greater.

It was the sixth time that something went wrong.

He was left in agony. True agony. A bodiless wraith made up of nothing but rage and malice. The
pain was all he knew until it ended when he received his new body.

He blamed the woman for it and it had taken him far too long to figure out what she had done.
Dumbledore and his ilk believed it was love but he was no fool. Love was not as powerful as him.
It never would be. In the end it had been his own folly, promising his loyal follower Severus a
reward for the information on the prophecy. Severus had wanted the woman to live, to be taken in
as his mudblood whore and Voldemort had been willing to indulge him.

The prophecy had been the norns attempt to stop him and Voldemort was no fool. That child
would not grow to match him power, he would not allow it. But it had seemed a little thing to
promise the mudblood’s life to his most profitable servant.

That had been his error.

The dark mark’s magic had inadvertently made his words into a magical binding and when
Voldemort had given the woman a chance to live (three chances), it had sealed it into a vow. Of
course, magic had punished him for killing her. It had nothing to do with love and everything to do
with the immutable laws of magic. Once he had discovered this, he had rested easily within
himself. There was no power Potter had that was greater than his own, no strange force of love that
he could not comprehend.

Of course, he had punished Severus for this, torturing him far more often than normal just to make
a point of it. But he allowed the man to live, he was still his only in at Hogwarts and that had saved
the potion master’s life.

Then he had made his sixth horcrux with his beloved Nagini and it felt like pleasure to him, to
sever that final part of himself into a seventh piece. What was left in his magically constructed
body was the best part of his being, the part that had survived everything possible. The part that
had worked through the starvation, the cold and fear of his youth, the piece of him that had
remained resolved despite every setback in his rise to power. It was the shard of his very being that
had remained after his body had been destroyed, that had possessed Quirrel and had nursed itself
back to strength on Nagini’s venom.

It was the only part of him he appreciated, the only part that mattered.

He could no longer see the blood on his hands. He no longer remembered the names of those he
had killed. They were ants to him. He was greater than a god, greater than the forces that governed
their world. He was beyond pain, beyond regret. The earth would be his and then every realm
would fall at his feet. He would own it all and he would bathe every planet in blood and gore.

Then the ring was destroyed, and Voldemort saw the cracked and damaged version on Albus’
finger.

And if he had thought he’d known pain before.

The destruction of a very piece of him, carelessly burnt into nothingness was like an eternal
torment. His very being was racked with it, laid over coals and destroyed. The flame of fiendfyre
was unlike any other and Voldemort was almost jealous that he had not been able to cause that sort
of pain himself. When the pain ended, he still thought himself safe. There was no way Albus
would discover there were more.

Then Nagini had been burned.

He didn’t waste time letting himself scream, instead he began to rush towards Malfoy Manor,
desperate to stop what had already occurred. But Potter, it had to be Potter, had already escaped
along with Narcissa, deep into the night.

He tried to gather the horcruxes, to protect them. But he failed time and time again. They would be
destroyed without warning, leaving him weak and mortal. It became familiar to him but the pain
never lessened. He thought he had gathered the locket from it’s hiding place and he did not think to
check deeper. He was numb from it all, he could not tell that the locket was not a part from him,
not until the real one was destroyed by the blade Potter carried.

The moment that occurred, he prepared for war. He would not allow Potter to live on anymore. He
would destroy both him and Albus and then he could create a new and final horcrux. He still had
enough soul left for that. He would do it. He would regain his godhood. But Potter needed to be
destroyed now. He had let that pustule survive too long and he had only grown more powerful. No
one knew how the boy had increased in power, not even him. The boy had managed to block their
connection to an enormous degree and Voldemort could no longer look inside and see.

But that didn’t matter. The boy was not prepared for the forces he brought with him.

16 covens of vampires, along with countless inferi. 4 thunders of giants. 6 packs of werewolves.
Dozens of dementors. Hundreds of death eaters. He had even gathered trolls and bound them to his
service. His army was vast and when he was done Hogwarts would be no more. That little bubble
of rebellion would be popped and all those who stood with Potter would be ground into the dirt.
The children who had betrayed him and his cause, who had removed their marks, would be
tortured and he would make it last. The Avengers would be destroyed and so too would Loki if he
refused to join him.

He was ready. He had gathered his power, he had protections put in place for that damnable god of
thunder. He had set out smaller forces to major American cities as distractions so that the
Americans could not stop his invasion. It would end today. The prophecy would be fulfilled and
Potter would fall, just as he should have as an infant. He could feel his surety fill his veins and he
ordered his forces forward, through the forbidden forest and towards their target.

He could sense the wards in front of him. Powerful walls of magic that would attempt to bar him
entrance. The wards had been strengthened since he had last been here, hiding beneath Quirrel’s
stupid turban. The magic was stronger, it blocked animagi from passing beneath it, and it was
strong enough to withstand a standard frontal assault. It was smart of Albus to strengthen the
wards, but it was not smart enough. Voldemort did not do standard assaults.

When they reached the edge of the wards, Voldemort stepped forward. He lifted his yew wand,
and he wordlessly let the first of his many attacks land on the wards. A bolt of yellow light burst
from him and slammed into the wards, the wards in reaction formed a translucent shield around the
perimeter of the grounds. The light latched onto the shield and spread out, like an infection,
digging its claws into the very threads of the magic that protected the castle within.

He pushed forward into the very soul of the wards, his magic filling it with malice and disease. The
wards began to wobble as Voldemort’s magic ate it from the inside out, consuming bits and pieces
of it in his rage. The wards began to yellow with decay and illness and Voldemort smirked,
pushing further. He was more powerful in this body than he had ever been before, horcrux or no,
and this power served him well.

In front of him he saw the small pitiful forces of the school gathering, not truly ready to face him.
Potter and his two friends stood at the helm of the party. They stood on the steps of the castle,
weapons and wands in hand as if their resistance mattered. Just as the wards began to crack, he
heard Potter shout out a denial, sending a blast of purple magic right at the wards, buffeting them.
Voldemort grit his teeth as Potter’s magic began to soothe over the infection Voldemort had
brought, trying to excise him out.

“No.” He gritted. “Not today.”

He sent a second spell, a cunning thing that draped around Potter’s own magic and then turned into
a version of the cruciatus. Pain flooded through Potter, torturing him through his own magic and
staying there as long as the foolish boy continued to fight against him. The boy screamed loud
enough to be heard over the vast distance between them and his magic blinked out. Moments later
the wards failed with a thunderous crash, causing the earth to quake and tremble.

“Attack.”

The giants and werewolves moved forward as one. Their thundering steps further shaking the
ground and the stones of the castle. Above them the skies were cloudy and dark, Voldemort
himself had cast the spell blocking the sun from shining so that the vampires could move freely.
Even if Thor came he would only call more storm clouds to the sky not less. The vampires had also
been outfitted with protective cloaks just in case, Voldemort would not allow something as
inconsequential as the sun slow his forces down.

The only people outside ready to defend the castle were a smattering of older students, the staff and
Potter and his ilk. A pitiful force for what Voldemort had brought. All this time Potter and Albus
had had to prepare and this is what they brought. Wards that had toppled like a stack of cards and a
small force of magic users that would not withstand his army. What a joke.

“HEIMDALL!” Potter yelled. “NOW!”

Moments before the giants reached their destination a gigantic beam of rainbow light blasted from
the sky and bashed into the earth before him. Asgardian warriors began to stream from the light.
Gods and goddesses in armor with gleaming weapons in hand. The warriors streamed in forming a
barrier between Voldemort’s army and the school. When the light finally faded Voldemort could
see an older god with an eyepatch on one eye and a golden spear in one hand.

“No. Impossible.”

“Master?” One of the Death Eaters said.

“Did I say stop?” He snarled looking back at his hesitating forces. “GO!”

Why Asgard was here he didn’t know. But it did not matter. He would still win, even if he had to
kill the king of the gods to do it.

The war had begun and it would end today.

The aesir immediately began to fight the giants and trolls. The gods used their strength and
weapons to topple giants and behead them. Some were even wrestling trolls. As well as the feral
werewolves, who were still much stronger than a normal man, hyped up on magic like they were,
which apparently made them good wrestling partners. The death eaters and other magic users
began to fill the air with spell fire. The acrid scent of magic mixing with the stench of troll sweat
and giant blood.

To his left magic users were casting fire spells to burn at the inferi while others cast sunlight spells
to ward away the vampires. The undead creatures were forced back but then Death Eaters blocked
these attacks by attacking the magic users and letting the undead through. The dementors spread
their fog through the air, covering the battlefield and weakening Potter’s forces.
Voldemort cast killing curses indiscriminately, killing aesir warriors and human magic users with
the same brutal efficiency. He moved through the crowds killing anyone on his way as he made his
way towards Potter. Potter was his goal. He would kill him and then no one would stand in his
way, the world would be his once Potter fell. This was his destiny. To his left he saw Odin, taking
on a troll head on with his spear. Voldemort fired magic from behind, a killing curse right at the
king’s head. Abruptly a rock was levitated up right into the trajectory of the spell. The spell hit the
rock and exploded instead of killing Odin head on.

“All-Father!” Granger shouted. “Behind you!”

Odin turned, ready to attack him, but Voldemort apparated away before he could get a shot off.
That damn mudblood stopping him. She’d die after he got to Potter. Voldemort’s strategy was set
as he searched for Potter in the mayhem. He would attack, kill, and maim anything he could and
apparate away the moment a god of real power spotted him. He could not afford to be injured by
any of them until he had Potter in his grasp.

Around him the earth was being drenched in blood and covered in corpses. The giants were
attacking the towers and walls of the castle, sending giant stone debris into the battle field while
the trolls mashed their enemies with their clubs. The dementors were being repelled in some places
by patroni but the casters couldn’t hold the protective spell for long in the chaos of the battle.

The Order began arriving soon enough, a small force that attempted to augment the pitiful group of
magic users Potter had gathered to his side. Voldemort ignored it as the pointless annoyance that it
was.

The Avengers came after and this was slightly more serious. Thankfully the battle was in full
swing and none of the Avengers could actually get to him as he moved through the bloodshed on
his way to Potter. That didn’t stop Thor from trying. But Voldemort was ready for him, he’d
studied what the god was capable of and he knew how to counteract both. When Thor finally
landed in front of him, lightning gathering in his eyes and around his limbs and thunder clouds
thickening in the sky, Voldemort stood his ground.

Thor roared a war cry and fired a bolt of lightning right at Voldemort. When the energy was mere
inches from him, he reached out and grabbed at the lightning with his bare hands. The lightning
burned at his palms and fingers, but he only gripped harder and let his magic pour into it, twisting
it until it turned yellow and putrid, then he shot it right back at the stunned god of thunder.

Thor flew backwards into a group of warring death eaters, toppling them like cards, as the pain
curse did its damage. The god got up and threw his hammer right at Voldemort, he knew from
experience that not even apparating would allow him to dodge the hit, but that was fine. He
allowed the hammer to fly directly at him, opening a portal right at the last moment. The hammer
flew through the portal leading it right to Antarctica and Voldemort closed it before the hammer
could turn and correct its course.

“Pathetic.” He said. “Let’s see how long the great god of thunder can survive without his hammer.”

He fired a barrage of spells right at the god who rolled out of the way, not retreating as was
sensible but still moving towards Voldemort with murderous intent. Their duel began with Thor
summoning lightning that Voldemort redirected with ease. Thor was good at dodging spells while
moving closer and closer to Voldemort. Voldemort kept the distance between them so that he could
continue his range attacks without risking hand to hand combat. Now that the hammer was out of
play Thor’s failure was a matter of when and not if.

It took more than a minute of continuous combat for Thor to falter and get hit with a blasting curse
that sent him to the ground again. Voldemort raised his wand to cast the final blow, then he felt a
disturbance, his magic sense warning him of danger. He turned and lifted up a shield just in time to
block the incoming arrow from Weasley’s bow. The arrow stopped inches from his face and
dropped to the ground at his feet, useless. Next to the blood traitor was Potter, finally ready to face
his death.

“Potter.” He snarled.

“It’s time to end this Tom.” He said, his voice carrying over the battlefield.

The boy had a sword in one hand, there was no wand, which likely confirmed the wandless magic
rumor that had reached his ears. Potter’s two friends stood by his side, one carrying a bow and the
other a battle axe of all things. The blade of the axe and the sword both were crimson and wet, and
all three children were marked with various injuries.

“You’ve come to face your death then?”

“Could say the same to you.”

Around them the battle didn’t quiet, most people didn’t even notice the confrontation of a lifetime
was finally happening over the chaos. But the space between the two of them was clear and the
surrounding mayhem became even more irrelevant to him. People on both sides of the conflict
were dying, breathing their last breaths into the blood tainted air. But none of that mattered because
the battle foretold by prophecy was about to begin.

Potter stepped forward, his two friends allowing him to go on alone as they watched his back. The
boy lifted his sword and Voldemort lifted his wand. There was a moment of absolute stillness
between the two of them, red eyes meeting green, neither of them showing a hint of fear.

Then it began.

Voldemort sent a wave of five separate killing curses right at the boy in a wide enough range to
keep him from dodging. The boy lifted up the earth beneath his feet so that he was in the air, well
above the curses. Then he fired three blasting hexes right at Voldemort, who blocked the spells
with a shielding spell.

Relashio!

Crucio!

Oppungo!

Expulso!

Avada Kedavra!

Confrigo!

They traded spells and attacks, quicker and quicker. Potter switched between shielding with magic
and using the sword to deflect spell fire. Around them the fighters moved out of the way, desperate
to avoid the heat of their magic. His arms and legs burned with the exertion but his magical core
sang as they moved closer and closer to their goal. Above them the clouds were heavy and the air
was dark with smoke and fog.

“Diffindo!” The boy shouted.

“Reducto!”

Their two spells hit each other mid-air and instead of matching each other like they had in the
graveyard they exploded upon impact creating a concussive blast of heated air that sent everyone
in the immediate vicinity to the ground. Voldemort pushed himself up, glaring at Potter who was
doing the same.

“Give it up Potter!” He shouted. “I will defeat you and the world will be mine!”

“No Tom.” Potter said, almost infuriatingly calm. “The world is never going to be yours. Your
horcruxes are gone and even if you kill me, nothing will change your mortality.”

“I am a god!”

“No.” Potter said, a grin gracing his features. “But I am half of one.”

Potter cast a spell, conjuring a wave of bright purple flame, forcing Voldemort to shield with a
water spell. The water hit the magic flame and created a violent flash of steam. Voldemort grit his
teeth against the pain and fired another spell. What did Potter mean half of one? The boy didn’t
give him time to think as he pressed his advantage and started using all of his magic to crowd
Voldemort back and back towards the walls of the castle. Voldemort fought back as best he could
but the boy was relentless, for every spell he blocked there was two more forcing him back.

When he was three feet from being cornered, he spotted the mudblood from out of the corner of his
eye. He smirked and lifted his wand, shooting a killing curse right at her. The girl was distracted,
fighting against a vampire, and Weasley was just as distracted, keeping a Death Eater from
attacking Potter from behind. The only one who saw the spell coming was Potter. Potter who had
always been a fool, who was stupid with weakness and sentimentality.

Voldemort watched as the boy yelled out a warning, one that wouldn’t reach the mudblood in time.
The boy rushed forward, pushing Granger to the ground right as the girl finished cutting off the
vampire’s head. The killing curse hit Potter right in the side, sending his now lifeless corpse to the
ground with a ragdoll like thud.

A moment later, a flash of familiar pain rushed through him. The destruction of a piece of him. He
gasped with it as he realized the true nature of his connection to Potter, he could not even roar out a
victory cry, so great was the pain in his chest.

“NOOOO!” Loki yelled out, bursting through the crowds, he stopped at the sight of Potter’s corpse
and Granger leaning over his body and crying. Slowly the god’s head turned to look at Voldemort,
there was something icy in his visage. “You killed my son.”

I am half of one.

Oh. Voldemort’s mind reached several conclusions as Loki’s hands light with green flame. The
most important of which was that he had the blood of a demi-god flowing through his body and
that? That would make killing the vengeful god in front of him quite easy indeed. Potter was dead,
the prophecy fulfilled, and no one would defeat him again.
 Lily Potter Gives the Best Hugs
Chapter Summary

In which Harry's yule vision comes true and he is left with a grave choice.

Chapter Notes

Ya'll. There are so many words in this update. I had to do get this whole thing done for
you. No more cliffhangers, at least no more today. Please enjoy the fluffy feels.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

There was white all around him.

A white nebulous fog curled around him, it was soft and he could taste sugar on his tongue.

Slowly Harry sat up, rubbing at his head.

“Where am I?”

The last thing he’d known he’d been fighting Voldemort, he’d been winning. He’d felt it in his
bones he’d been so close. Voldemort had been nearly cornered and his sword had been hot in his
hand ready to land the final blow. But then Hermione had been in danger and…

Oh.

Harry looked around more closely but there was really only the fog around him. This wasn’t the
realm that Harry and his dad had rescued Sirius in. The fog felt different, less oppressive. It was
lighter somehow. He reached behind him to grab for his sword and found that not only was his
sword missing but he was also without a shirt.

And trousers.

He blushed bright red and tried to magic up some clothing. The blush faded as he realized that his
magic was….gone? No that was the wrong word. It was still there, within him, but it felt dormant.
Like it had decided to rest. But that still left him naked in the middle of nowhere. He wished he had
something safe to wear, something to cover him. Tyr and his dad both would kill him if they found
out he was going around without anything to defend himself with.

Abruptly a set of Asgardian clothing appeared next to him and Harry blinked at the pile of neatly
folded clothing.

Okay.

Harry picked up the clothing and found it felt exactly as it should. He put it on and accepted that he
was going to lack boots. He wiggled his toes against the soft floor. Then he decided to try again.
I really really want my sword.

Next to him on the ground the Sword of Gryffindor popped into existence, or at least a copy of it
did. He carefully picked up the sword and let the now familiar weight settle into his hand.

Around him the world had begun to change. It was no longer a blank white but formations had
begun to take shape. He looked around as the world changed to look like a park. At least he thought
it was a park. Color began to bleed into everything as the floor grew green grass and trees began to
sprout brightly colored fruit. The sky turned a nice summer blue and a breeze began to slowly push
the fog away.

In the end Harry found himself standing in the middle of a dirt path, clearly worn away by
hundreds of feet taking the same route with care. There were bushes filled with berries and trees
filled with fruits, spring and summer and fall fruits and berries all mingled together. Harry began to
walk forward, carefully stepping around rocks and kicking up a light bit of dust. He heard some
sort of sniveling in the distance, it almost sounded like a child crying.

He moved towards it, the world around him helpfully providing a near direct path towards the
noise. The sunlight filtered gently through the leaves overhead, creating spots of bright warm
yellow light. If it weren’t for the strange crying noise everything would feel quite soothing and
calm. The path turned sharply, and Harry followed it to find a clearing. He found himself standing
on the top of a hill, in front of him was a beautiful vista of rolling hills and flowing grass and
flowers.

It was unlike anything Harry had ever seen. The flowers were brighter and crisper than they would
be on earth. The colors unlike anything he’d ever known. The air tasted like honey now, honey and
the spice used in his dad’s favorite biscuits. The grass on the hills flowed in the breeze like
something out of a movie.

To his left he could hear the sniveling more clearly, he ripped his eyes from the beautiful sight in
front of him and saw to his horror there was a sickly-looking child, hiding itself beneath a low
hanging branch. Harry rushed over to the kid but when he got closer, he saw that it wasn’t right.
The skin was too white, white as bleached bone, and its limbs were too long, its eyes were horribly
blackened.

Harry stared at the crying creature, it looked like some sort of mutant version of those creatures
he’d fought when he’d rescued Sirius. Smaller and somehow even more malformed. Yet he still felt
some sort of strange connection, something in his chest told him he knew what this was. His magic
was still dormant and with it, most of his magic sense was gone. He focused as best he could,
crouching down to be more at eye level with the creature.

“Oh.” He said. “You’re it, aren’t you?”

And the thing flinched at the question. Harry slowly moved away, getting up and leaving the
horcrux in its hiding place. Part of him wondered if he needed to stab the child-like thing. Not that
he wanted to. He thought it might be unnecessary anyway, if they were where Harry suspected they
were. He turned back to the rolling hills and saw something new had appeared. On the next hill
over was a bright yellow blanket, the heavy sort someone would lay out for a picnic. There was
someone sitting in the center of the blanket, red hair flying behind them in the breeze.

“Mum.”

Harry dropped his sword and started running towards her, sprinting with all of his might down the
hill he was on and then up the other. The person heard him coming, and turned around as he
approached.

“Harry.” She said, smiling at him.

She looked exactly as he’d seen in her photos. Unbearably bright green eyes nestled in a heart
shaped face. There were freckles placed gently along the bridge of her nose and the tops of her
cheekbones. Her red hair hung long and straight around her looking almost like fire. Harry kept
running, falling right into her waiting arms.

“Mum.”

“Oh Harry.” She said. “My baby boy.”

She hugged him impossibly tight to her chest, falling down to her knees and bringing them both
down onto the blanket. He felt her pepper kisses in his hair. Harry clung to her with all of his
strength, hiding his face in her neck and resting there.

She smelt like almonds.

“Mum.” He said again. “Mum.”

“You did it baby. I’m so proud of you. I’ve been watching the whole time dear. I’ve been with you,
every step. I love you so much my baby.”

Harry listened as him mum poured affection into his every pore, with her words and with her arms.
Her hugs were better than any Harry had ever had. Feeling surrounded by her was better than
quidditch even. Harry never wanted to leave. His mum continued to coo at him, telling him how
brave and kind and wonderful he was. Something in Harry’s chest, something cracked began to
knit itself shut. He listened to his mum and he began to cry into the hollow of her neck.

“Oh honey, it’s going to be okay. Mum’s got you, she’s not going anywhere this time. It’s just fine
darling. Just stay right here with me until you feel better, that’s alright, let it all out. I know it’s
been so hard for you, I know. It’s okay to cry, I’ll hold you as long as you need.”

Oh, it felt good to cry. The weights on his feet were gone, totally gone. He didn’t have to save to
world or fulfill a prophecy. There was nothing he had to do at all. Nothing but hug his mum and let
it go. His worries about the world, his fears for the future, the pain he’d carried, the uncertainty.
The leftover wounds from the Dursleys, from Dumbledore, from Voldemort. It all flowed out of
him as his mum promised to carry him through it.

And she did.

She held him and rocked him and made him feel safer than anything ever had. He’d not even felt
this safe and comforted in Asgard. And it was made all the better by knowing it didn’t have to end.

Eventually his tears slowed, and he felt something close to peace wash over him. He relaxed into
his mum’s hold and let his breathing slow until there were no more hitches in his breath.

“Feeling any better, baby?”

“Yeah.” Harry said. “Thanks mum.”

Even just saying it made his eyes water. He pulled back a little to see that she’d also been crying
some as she held him, he reached up and gently wiped the tears away with his thumb while she did
the same to him.
“There you are.” She said. “Oh, you’ve gotten so handsome.”

“Mum.”

“It’s true. My son is the most handsome demigod in existence.”

“I’m the only demigod in existence.” She gave him an amused look and then pressed a kiss to his
forehead.

“Even if there were dozens, you’d still be the best. And don’t argue you with me, I’m your mother
and I know these things.”

“Okay.” Harry agreed, totally mystified. “Where are we?”

“This is…an in between place. It looks different to everyone I’ve spoken to. For me it looks like a
beautiful park.” His mum said. “I’ve been stuck here since I died because of my sacrifice for you.
It tethered me to you and allowed me to watch over you. Most people who die don’t stay here very
long, they either go forward into…the next life or they go back and become ghosts.”

“But you’ve been here?”

“It’s not that bad.” She said, smiling at him, and carefully reaching out to cradle the back of his
head. “I’ve been watching over you, its probably what I’d be doing anyway even if I had moved on
fully.”

“Oh.” Harry said, deciding that was alright. “Have you…did you really see it all?”

“Harry I was there when you did your first bit of accidental magic.” She said holding his face
gently in her palms. “You were three and it was cold and dark in your cupboard. The lightbulb had
broken, and you didn’t know how to fix it. In your fear your magic sparked out for the very first
time and created the first and as far as I’m aware, only magically powered lightbulb in all the
world. And while I was so furious that my sister and her walrus of a husband had put you in that
situation, oh Harry was I was so happy that your magic was there and it was strong.”

“So, you know about…”

“I do.” She said. “And trust me. When Tunie gets here she and I will be having words about her
treatment of you.”

“Mum.”

“No. Harry.” She said. “She abused an innocent child for years. I would have never treated Dudley
like that if our positions had been reversed.”

“But don’t you…dad always said we were alike, that you were kind too.”

She lowered her hands to his shoulders and smiled at him, her pink lips curving into a shape Harry
had only ever seen in pictures. It was even more beautiful in person. Before Harry could even
wonder what she would say she leaned forward and pressed another kiss to his forehead, as if she
couldn’t stop herself, and spoke.

“Harry, I’m not afraid of myself.”

“What?”

“I’m not afraid of my anger or my power.” She repeated gently. “I know that you are, honey. You
grew up in a world where everyone more powerful than you hurt you and you started to fear being
powerful. That makes sense, I understand why you’re afraid of it. I was there when power hurt
you, time and time again.”

“But-”

“Harry, I am kind. Or at least I try to be.” She said. “And I am that way because I act like it as
often as I can. You are kind because you choose to protect and help others every chance you have.
You gave up your life for Hermione in an ultimate act of kindness and love.”

“What does that have to do with Aunt Petunia?”

“When you do kind things, earnestly and frequently, you become kind on the inside.” His mum
explained gently. “And then, once you are kind, the world’s injustices are going to anger you.
Think about how you’ve been just this past year Harry? How frustrated you were with the state of
the school, with the British ministry, with your father? You were angry because you are kind and
the world and the people around you weren’t being kind back.”

“So?” Harry asked stubbornly. “Mum I don’t see what you’re getting at.”

“Honey, when a good man goes to war, you know he fights for goodness. When a soft man goes to
war you, you know he fights to protect softness.” She said. “When I finally get the chance to yell at
my sister and do whatever else to her I’m going to do for her treatment of you, I’m doing it to
protect you, to protect people like you. To protect the good and best bits of the world. Honey, when
you stand up to wrongs, when you fight Voldemort, when you use your power to tear down
injustice, you aren’t abusing anyone. You wouldn’t, it’s not your nature. Your nature will always
be to protect the good things inside of you, the things you want to see in the world.”

Harry felt something shift on its axis as he listened to her talk. His mum knew him, knew him
better than Ron and Hermione, better than his dad. She’d been by his side, an unknown source of
support since the day she’d died. She’d witnessed every cruel thing, every cold and hungry night,
every moment of hopelessness, every bruise and cut. She’d seen it all and she was telling him he
was good, that he’d chosen to do good things, over and over again and become good and kind and
wonderful.

“The first example you can remember of being an adult is Petunia and Vernon and you have spent
so long fearing you were like them, baby.” She said. “You’re not. You won’t treat anyone like they
did you. It’s not who you are, who you’ve chosen to become. You grew past what they tried to turn
you into, and I could not be more proud of you for it.”

“Oh.” He said sniffing.

“So.” She said. “When I yell at Petunia, what is it?”

“An act of love, for me.”

“Yes.” She said, smiling. “It’s love. The most powerful thing in any world. And when your father
enacted justice on Umbridge? What was that?”

“Love.” Harry said, his voice taking on more and more confidence. “He was loving me, and the
other kids, protecting us. Protecting the world.”

“Good boy.” She said praised. “Love takes so many forms, baby. But when you love people as
much as you do, you can trust yourself that when you stop injustice, you’re doing it for love. If
you’d killed Voldemort, it wouldn’t have been an act of hate.”
“It would’ve been love.”

“Exactly.”

“I’m not like Dumbledore.” Just saying it felt revolutionary. He knew it should be obvious, but for
some reason the idea felt new and exciting. He wasn’t like Dumbledore. He hadn’t acted out of
pride and obsession for power. No. He acted out of love.

“No, Harry, never.”

“Not like Vernon either.” He loved things, Vernon didn’t love things, not even himself. Harry
couldn’t believe he’d never thought it before. All this time people had told him he was kind and
good and part of him hadn’t taken it in. He hadn’t believed it.

“Not for a single moment.”

“I’m not like Petunia.” He wasn’t. He was good. Good! The lurking fear in the back of his chest
that he would be like her, that he could, was finally being brought into the light and his mum was
burning it away. Because she knew him, she knew him, and she knew he was good.

“Couldn’t be even if you tried.”

Harry snorted at that and looked up at his mum, she was smiling a smile he’d not seen in any of her
photos. It was achingly gentle. He realized as he looked at it, he had seen the smile somewhere
before. On his own face. That was the smile he had for his friends, for the people he loved most in
the world. Harry rushed forward and hugged her again.

“Thank you, mum.”

“Anytime baby.” She said hugging him back immediately. “Anytime.”

Harry pulled away again and finally moved so that he was no longer awkwardly sitting on his
knees. His mum followed suit and they settled more comfortably on the blanket, his mum
wrapping an arm around his shoulders and hugging him to her side.

“Why are we still here?” Harry asked. “If it was me holding you back then…then why haven’t we
both…”

“Moved on?” She asked. “I’m not sure sweetheart.”

“That would be my doing.”

Harry yelped in shock and turned towards the voice, immediately throwing out both arms and
moving his body to shield his mum from the intruder. Standing to their right was a woman, or at
least Harry thought she was a woman. Her face and body were constantly changing shape and
color, swirling through alien and human faces in a nearly incomprehensible manner. The longer
Harry looked the more he felt like he saw a face he recognized in the swirling mess. The only thing
that remained constant was her height and build, which was tall and bone thin.

“Who are you?” Harry demanded.

The woman tilted her head at Harry and smiled.

“I’m Death, Haraldr. May I take a seat?”

“Death?” Harry repeated stupidly.

“Yes.” She said. “I am the personification of Death. I represent and direct the flow of living souls
into the afterlife and have done so since the beginning of time.”

“Oh.”

“May I sit?”

“Yes.” His mum said. “Of course, there’s always room on the blanket.”

And so, Death took a seat. Harry watched her do it, bending her far too thin limbs down so that she
sat with her legs crossed in front of the two of them, her face still merging between five different
ethnicities and species. Harry was starting to get a headache looking at it and so he looked down at
his mum’s lap instead.

“Would you like some tea?” His mum asked. “Normally when I have a picnic out here, there’s a
basket full of the best tea and nibbles.”

“No.” Death said. “I’m afraid I’m not here for pleasantries. But perhaps another time, Lily.”

“Oh.” She said, she didn’t sound afraid. She sounded stubborn. She sounded like Harry. “Then
what can we do for you?”

“Haraldr.” Death said. “I’m here to speak with you and offer you a choice.”

“A choice?” Harry asked looking up. Thankfully Death had decided on a face, her skin was green
with silver lines along the cheek bones and brow. She looked alien and strange but at least she
wasn’t headache inducing.

“You are in a very unique position.” Death explained. “Your blood runs through the veins of Tom
Riddle. Because of the ritual Tom used to create his new body, your soul, your life force is tied to
his own.”

“What does that mean?”

“That means he can go back.” His mum figured out. “He can live again.”

“As long as Tom Riddle lives, there is a path back for you Haraldr.” Death confirmed.

“So that’s the choice? I can go back or stay here with mum and move on with her?” Harry asked,
hugging his mum slightly tighter.

“No. Well yes, but there’s more to it than that.” Death said. “You must understand the implications
of your choice fully before you make it, so that you can be free to choose what is best for you.”

“Okay.” Harry said.

“Did your father ever explain to you what gods were?”

“They’re people who can access special parts of the Yggdrasil, the most diversified kinds of
magical energy.” Harry answered. “They’re connected to it and it gives them the best control over
that part, they can do more for longer than anyone else when it comes to the part of the Yggdrasil
they’re the god over.”

“Just so.” She said. “Did he explain how a being becomes a god?”

“Uhm.” Harry said. “No. He just said that I had the potential for it, because I made my flame.”
“Odin is the king of the gods, the god of gods.” Death explained. “In his youth he made a deal with
the Norns themselves so that he would have the ability to name new gods. He drank from the
waters of Mirmir and gained a divine sense of godhood. From there it fell to him to anoint potential
gods and goddesses to their true positions. Of course, since then he has only anointed Asgardians
but that is irrelevant to our discussion.”

“So, Odin can make any one with the potential for godhood one?”

“No. Odin merely names them. The power comes from beings like myself. Usually the norns
assign the gods their positions, but other personifications can act as they see fit.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Harry asked.

“So, you can make your choice.” Death answered. “Gods play a significant role in the health of the
Yggdrasil. They are flow points for energy that has diversified too much. The energy becomes
sluggish and pools and turns viscous in the Yggdrasil. This blocks the flow of energy and damages
the tree overall. A god, who utilizes their power responsibly, moves that sluggish energy on and
keeps the Yggdrasil healthy. Some gods play even greater roles for the health of the Yggdrasil,
depending on what they are the god of. Frigga for example, is the goddess of fate and she acts as
the mouthpiece for the norns.”

“You want Harry to be a god.” His mother said.

“I want him to be my god.” Death corrected. “The god of death.”

“What?” Harry coughed out. “You’re crazy!”

“I am not crazy, I’m omnipotent.”

Well that shut Harry up. His mum comfortingly rubbed his arm and he settled into her hold.

“Odin named another woman the goddess of death, and I thought it an appropriate choice at the
time.” Death said. “She was powerful, ruthless, she had mingled with blood and death so much it
had become part of her, I was a part of her. I thought she represented me well. But I misunderstood
her relationship with me. Yes, she gloried in me, but she did not respect me. She wished to cause
death and destruction everywhere she went and failed to understand that if death happens too
rapidly, then the balance of the Yggdrasil is destroyed. Odin had her banished and she has
languished in Hel since. You met her once, when you went to rescue your godfather.”

“That creepy woman?” Harry asked. “She’s the goddess of death?”

Harry remembered how she’d taunted him about the prophecy, how frightening and off putting
he’d found her.

“She knew you had a horcrux, it is her power to know. She knew you had to die to fulfill the
prophecy. She was offering you a clean and easy death.” Death explained. “She was also trying to
remove a competitor for her power.”

“Oh.”

“The goddess of death has been twisted by her isolation. She is not a friend to anyone, she cannot
be, not without much healing. Healing I doubt she would accept even if it were offered.” Death
said. “And she saw the potential you had to replace her. She believed that if she killed you, then
you would no longer be a threat and that you would get what you wanted, Voldemort’s defeat.”
“Okay.” Harry said. “So she’s crazy, got it.”

“Which is why I’m offering you the chance to ascend, to become the new god of death. I will take
her power from her and give it to you. You will be immortal, like Idunn is. And you will represent
me until the end of time. When there are beings who try to trick me, like Tom Riddle, it will be
your duty to destroy them so that they cannot damage the Yggdrasil. When there are beings who
commit mass genocides and great evils, your job will be to remove them like the infection they
are.” Death said. “You will ascend to power far greater than any other god. And as long as you use
that power wisely, you will keep it. If you fail in this task, I will remove your godhood from you
and give it to another.”

“So, if I come back to life.” Harry said. “I’ll become truly immortal, the god of death. And I’ll live
for eternity, fighting bad guys and protecting the universe from destruction. That’s your offer?”

“That is one half of my offer.” Death said. “If you choose to die, fully die, then you and your
mother will move on into the afterlife and there you will be placed as a ruler. You will be in charge
of comforting newly dead souls when they arrive in my realm. You will rule those who were good
and brave, those who lived kind lives. You will offer comfort and guidance to them. You will live
in luxury and comfort, knowing no pain or hardship. You will have happiness and be among all
your mortal family who has passed on.”

“My mortal family?” Harry asked. “What about…”

“The gods do not enter my realm when they die.” Death explained. “They become one with the
Yggdrasil, their souls entering into a cycle of death and rebirth. Even when your father, uncle, and
grandparents die, they will not go to the afterlife, their souls will rest in a place called Valhalla and
they will wait to be born again after Ragnarök. If you choose to die, you will never see your father
in the flesh again. If you choose to live, your mother will move on and you will never see her
again. She will see you, but you will not be able to speak to her.”

“That’s…that’s not fair!” Harry said. “You can’t make me do that!”

“My original plan was to make you a god without your consent.” Death said. “I thought you might
appreciate this way more.”

Harry shook at the cool look in Death’s eyes. He couldn’t see a spark of comfort or empathy in
them. She was offering him a kindness in this choice, at least she believed so, but it wasn’t a
choice. Neither option was acceptable.

“What happens on earth, if I don’t go back? Does Tom lose?”

“Yes. Your father will kill him.” Death said. “The Death Eaters and all they stand for will fall, and
the world will be better for your sacrifice. Your father will never cease mourning you, but he will
heal some, enough to do as you asked of him, even if only a little. I will find another to bear the
burden of my mantle to replace the current goddess.”

“And if I go back?” Harry asked.

“You will have the power to slay Tom where he stands.” Death said. “What you will do after that
will be your choice.”

“You’re making me choose between my mom and my dad.” Harry said. “The world will be fine no
matter what I do.”

“If you choose to see it that way, then yes.” Death said. “You may have long as you wish to decide.
Time does not exist here as it does outside of it. If you choose to live, merely take this path.”

She motioned to her left where another dirt path appeared.

“If you choose to die, take this path.”

And then a path on her right emerged from the grassy ground.

“Can you leave us?” His mum asked, her voice harder than it had been before. “I think Harry
would like to think about this, alone.”

She said that in a tone that made it clear she meant ‘without you’. Death nodded and disappeared in
a blink of an eye, leaving behind only the two paths for Harry to take. Once they were alone his
mum hugged him to her chest and spoke.

“It’s okay Harry.” She said. “I’ll be fine.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Harry, I’m practically a stranger to you.” She said sniffing. “And I understand if you pick your
father. I’ll still be able to watch you like I always have. I won’t be mad or upset.”

“But you’ll be alone.”

“No, no I’ll move on and be with my parents. I’ll…I’ll be okay.”

“Mum you’re crying.”

“I’m not.” She said, hugging him tighter so he could only hear the tears in her voice and not see
them. “You don’t have to worry about me honey. You don’t.”

“Mum I don’t want to leave you.” Harry said, his voice also turning ragged. “I just found you.”

“Harry.”

“We could go. Be happy.” Harry said almost desperately. “Just relax and be with each other
forever. Dad’d be okay, Death said so.”

“Oh baby.” His mum said. “That sounds so nice, it really does. But would you be happy with that?
Knowing you left James behind?”

“How could I be happy leaving you behind?” Harry shot back. “This isn’t fair!”

“No.” She said, hugging him all the tighter. “No, it’s not.”

They sat there, wrapped up in each other, Harry let his mind mull over the problem Death had
dropped into his lap. He didn’t really want to be the god of death. It didn’t sound bad per say. He’d
get to be a hero and do good for eternity. It was hard to hate that, even if it might be difficult. But
he’d never get to hug his mum and now that he knew what her arms felt like he never wanted to
leave them. Dying fully would be easier, he’d be happy, Death had promised. He’d get to help
people too, in a gentler way. He’d have his mum, but he’d lose Thor and his dad and Odin and
Frigga and Tyr.

It was impossible. Neither choice would make him happy. He’d always have a piece missing. It
wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. He was trapped with two awful choices. He hugged his mum tighter as
he considered what it would be like to leave her. To know her and then lose her. Before it had been
hard, so hard to miss her. But it would be so much worse now. But in the same vein, he loved his
dad.

He couldn’t choose either. He couldn’t.

Wait.

“Mum.” Harry said. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course, honey.”

“Then come on.” Harry said. “I know what to do.”

He got up out of her arms and held out a hand to pull her up.

“Harry?” She asked.

“Follow me.” Harry said. “We’ve got to be quick, before she figures out what I’m doing and stops
us.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Mum. If my life force is tied to Tom’s, then so is yours.” Harry said his eyes brightening up. “She
said I could only have one or the other, but there’s always a third choice mum. Come on. Let’s go
trick Death.”

“Oh Harry.” She said. “You really are your father’s son.”

Harry giggled and laced his fingers into his mum’s.

“Ready?” He asked.

“Ready.” She confirmed.

“Then let’s run.” He said. “As fast as we can, I’ll do my best to pull you along.”

She nodded, sending her red hair down in a cascade. His mum gripped his hand tighter and then as
one they started sprinting, faster and faster. With each step down the path, his magic began to wake
up and so Harry called on it in the way his dad had taught him. He called on the soul magic and
commanded that his and his mum’s souls would move. Around them the world began to fade back
into white fog, and sensation began to leave his fingers. Harry gripped his mum all the tighter.

Then the world disappeared.

Harry opened his eyes with a gasp to see Hermione kneeling over him with tears in her eyes. To his
left he heard his dad’s voice.

“You killed my son.”

“Harry?” Hermione whispered.

“Hey ‘Mione.” Harry whispered right back.

“Harry!” She shouted, diving down to hug him. Harry winced at the pain, apparently coming back
to life hurt.

“Impossible!” Voldemort shouted. “Avada Kedavra!”

A bright green light was shot right towards both of them and Harry growled. He brought up a hand
and a shield of harsh purple light formed between him and Hermione and Voldemort’ The killing
curse crashed into it and was immediately swallowed up, like it was nothing. Harry slowly sat up,
Hermione moving to the side as she stared at him. Harry got to his feet and cracked his neck. He
was beginning to glow with power as Death’s mantle settled on him.

“Hey Tom.” Harry said. “Miss me?”

“No.” And oh Harry could hear the disbelief.

“Oh, come on. You didn’t think a killing curse would work a second time, did you?” Harry asked.
“You can’t be that stupid.”

“What is it going to take to kill you, Potter?”

Harry rolled his eyes and looked over at his dad, who was staring at him in shock. The god was
swaying in disbelief and Harry tried to send him a comforting smile. He turned back to Tom. The
battle around them was slowing, all of the gods and Asgardians could recognize what was
happening to Harry. The evolution a god was something they knew the taste of intimately.
Everyone else on the battlefield, muggle or not, could feel the energy of it, like a wave of blistering
heat passing over them. They all stopped to watch as Harry walked towards Voldemort, the grass
beneath him withering beneath his boots.

“You can’t kill me, Tom.” Harry said. “You never could.”

“What are you?” He demanded, fear finally threading itself into the man’s voice.

“I’m Harry Potter, God of Death. And it’s time for you to stop running from me Tom.”

The fight didn’t last long after that. Harry summoned his sword to his hand and he got in close just
like Tyr had taught him. He was able to shield against the torture and killing curses Tom sent at
him in a way he hadn’t been able to before. And even though Tom had his blood running through
him didn’t mean he knew jack shit about using it. In an attempt to augment his power, Tom began
to call upon those he had marked with the Dark Mark. All of the human Death Eaters fell to the
ground in pain as their magic was forcibly drained from their bodies into Tom’s. Tom began to
glow as he was filled with his ill-gotten magic.

Around them Death Eaters rapidly began to die as his fight with Voldemort continued. Harry didn’t
hold back and continued blocking and redirecting Voldemort’s attacks. With each strike Tom was
forced to block from Harry more and more power was wasted. Now that his three go-to spells were
off the table, he was scrambling to recover. Harry own aura was acting as a shield, any spell
Voldemort hit him with was killed the moment it touched his skin, the energy dying and going
back into the Yggdrasil as if it had never been. Harry didn’t even feel it.

Voldemort began to teleport, trying to get distance between them, but Harry just followed him. His
magic guiding him around, following Tom’s scent like it was blood in the water. Tom would snarl
every time he saw Harry appear, fear and exhaustion was slowing him down as Harry continued to
hunt him.

The fighting had stopped almost entirely. Now that the Death Eaters could no longer use their
magic, Harry’s side was able to banish the dementors to the far side of the battlefield, and burn the
vampires and inferi. The Asgardians had taken to the task of killing giants and trolls with an
enthusiasm Harry had only ever seen them hold for quidditch. The grounds of Hogwarts were
littered with bodies and Harry rapidly followed Tom’s every retreat, like a menacing shadow.

It ended nearly where it had begun. Tom had apparated to a spot near the castle, obviously hoping
to find some cover, and Harry had timed it perfectly to land right in front of him.

“Gotcha.” Harry said, before lifting his sword and swinging it hard.

Snick.

Voldemort’s head and body fell to the ground with two dull thuds. His red blood began to pour and
spurt into the earth. Harry took a few steps back, consciously trying to pull his magic in like his
dad had taught him. It took a couple of seconds but when he managed it, he turned around to see
the crowds staring at him. More than half the Death Eaters were dead and most were completely
prone on the ground, their magic nearly gone. The Aesir, Avengers, Order Members, and his
friends all stared at him. Slowly Harry lifted his bloodied sword in victory.

Cheers began to fill the air. Victory was theirs. The war was won! Harry had done it!

Harry looked through the crowds obsessively, searching everywhere for a flash of red. She should
be here. It couldn’t have gone wrong. But she wasn’t to be seen. His dad teleported right to his side
as Harry was hit with a very stupid realization.

Of course, his mum wouldn’t be here.

“Starlight!” His dad shouted, ready to pull him into a hug.

“We’ve got to go.” Harry said. “Now.”

He grabbed his dad’s hand before his dad could ask for an explanation. He pulled them both
forward, teleporting them to the cemetery in Godric’s Hollow. His dad stumbled at the abrupt
travel and began to ask Harry what was going on. Harry didn’t answer, pulling his dad forward into
a sprint, right towards his mum’s grave.

When they got there, the newly minted god of death fell to his knees and began to dig. His dad
watched in bewilderment and Harry’s hands and fingers dug into the compacted dirt and pulled out
clumps rapidly. Harry’s magic helped as he desperately dug as quickly as he could, sending more
and more dirt onto the piles on either side.

“Harry.” His dad said. “Harry stop.”

“No!” Harry said. “I’m almost there. It worked. I know it did.”

He reached the casket in record time, digging down six feet within what felt like moments. He
didn’t hesitate to rip open the casket, cracking the aged and rotten oak in his hands.

“Mum.” He breathed.

Lily Evans Potter began to cough and sputter as she finally got a breath of fresh air. She was
wearing a nice robe, it looked formal and slightly itchy. Her limbs were skinny, and her cheeks
were sunken in, even if she’d been brought back to life it didn’t change the fact that she had been
dead for some time. Harry reached out and grabbed her hand, his magic flowing into her and
further restoring her body back to what it had been when she’d died.
 “Sorry mum.” Harry said. “I was almost late, had to kill Voldemort before I came for you.”

“Only that?” She asked. “Did you pick up some milk too?”

“Nope. I forgot.” Harry said with a grin.

“Lily.” His dad fell to his knees. “Lily.”

“Hello James.” His mum said smiling up at him. “Want to help me out of here?”

His dad fell into the poorly dug out grave. He reached out with shaking hands towards his mum,
when his hand touched her shoulder, he nearly collapsed in on himself.

“It’s you.” He said. “It’s really you.”

Harry couldn’t even pretend to be disgusted when his mum and dad both rushed forwards and
kissed each other. He just grinned as they held each other tightly.

“Careful.” His mum said. “Still human.”

“Oh Lily, not for long.” His dad said, a serious undercurrent in his voice. He didn’t turn to look at
Harry when he spoke, too mesmerized by the sight of the love of his life. “How? Harry what did
you do?”

“I might have tricked Death.” Harry said shrugging. “But I thought it was fair since I got saddled
with doing a bunch of her work for her.”

“He’s your son, James.” Lily said, before kissing his dad’s laughing lips. “Now come on. Get me
out of here.”

“With pleasure, my lady.” His dad said, carefully pulling her out of the casket and into his arms.
He cradled her softly to his chest as he jumped out of the grave. Harry got up and followed them as
his dad carefully put his mum down to test to see if her legs would hold her. They did, although she
did sway in shock a bit.

“We should go back.” Harry said. “We sort of left everyone in the middle of the fight.”

“Odin and Thor can handle it.” His dad said almost carelessly.

“Are you sure?” Harry pushed.

“He’s right.” His dad sighed. “Are you fit to come with us, Lily?”

“Harry fixed me up just fine, James. Although, I would like to have my wand back.”

“I just so happen to have it.” His dad said snapping his fingers and conjuring the wand from
wherever he’d stored it. “Here you are dear one.”

His mum took the wand into her hand with a smirk.

“Take us back.” She said as Harry stepped over to his dad’s other side, his family finally,
wonderfully whole.

Chapter End Notes

Once again thank you all so much for the wonderful support you've given me as I've
written this story. It has been an absolute blast. We're not done yet of course! Still a
few chapters to go but the main plot has been finished!
 Loki Loves Lily
Chapter Summary

Loki is so in love it hurts. His wife is here and he can reach out to her, what else
matters?

Chapter Notes

As most of you can tell we are reaching the end of this story! There have been one or
two requests for more and I have taken those on board! I'm going to be taking a break
from this story once it's finished so I can focus on writing my thesis and defending it
lol but once that's done I may very well come back to this! However I hope to write a
story with a satisfying conclusion so that you're not left wondering too much ;)

Loki was vibrating.

He was aware of course that Hogwarts was severely damaged and that there were dead wizards and
Asgardians mingled with the dead death eaters and dark creatures. He knew he should have a
serious look on his face. He knew he should be somber in the face of such tragedy. And yet, and
yet, and yet.

And yet he could touch her.

And yet he could see her, hear her, he could still taste her on his tongue.

He’d have to remember to do something to thank Harry for healing his mother in the way he had
because while Loki would not have minded if his wife tasted well like a corpse right after being
brought back to life, having her taste as he remembered was preferable in every way. It was
impossible for Loki to stop shaking. His very bones were humming beneath his flesh in joy. He
couldn’t stop himself from grasping at Lily’s arm, at her waist, holding her close to his side. She
didn’t seem to mind, if the way she was holding onto him was any indication.

When they arrived at Hogwarts, the war had truly ended. Loki knew that because Bruce had
transformed back and had accepted some conjured clothing from Molly Weasley of all people. The
entire grounds were destroyed. Parts of the castle had been crumbled up and destroyed from the
spell fire and from the trolls and giants. The ground was littered with corpses, from both sides of
the conflict. The Death Eaters that were still alive had been tied up and dragged over to one group
and put under guard by the Order members. The Avengers and Aesir were going through the
battlefield and finding survivors under direction of Steve and Odin. A majority of the magic users
that could, were healing those who’d been injured.

He could see in the distance Sirius and Remus were looking for the two of them. Which admittedly
was fair, Harry had taken them away quite quickly without any explanation whatsoever. Harry had
successfully won the war and lifted his sword up to signify his victory as any good Asgardian
would do and then, just like Harry, he’d left before any feasting or celebratory hugging could start.
Any other of their kind, after a victory like that, would be up on everyone’s shoulders being
cheered on and sung about. But here was his son, covered in dirt and dried up blood.

“So.” His wife said. (She said! As in she spoke, as in her mouth and her throat and hervoice.) “How
do we want to play this?”

“We could always do what I did.” Loki said. “Molly almost slapped me, but I managed to get out
of that one.”

“No one’s going to hit me, dear.” She said patting his arm making it clear why they’d all tried to
do so to him. Loki could only smile widely and stupidly at her while Harry snickered on his other
side.

“We could… I dunno magic up a banner?” Harry suggested, his tone jovial.

“A banner seems a bit…gauche.” Lily decided. “I suppose we should just let my presence speak
for itself.”

“We don’t want people to faint.” Loki said, he didn’t mention that he nearly had. He didn’t have to,
Lily gave him a fond look that made it clear she already knew that. Apparently, Loki had a face he
used when he was about to faint from joy, and she’d seen it often enough.

“Mate!” Ron Weasley yelled. “You’re back! Where’d in Merlin’s name did you go?”

Harry turned to greet Ron and Hermione who were rushing towards them. Harry immediately
pulled both of them into huge hugs. When they pulled back Harry grinned and spoke.

“I had to go get my mum.”

“Wut?” Ron asked while Hermione looked behind Harry and squeaked at the sight of Lily Evans
Potter waving at the group of friends.

“Potter!” Draco Malfoy said. “You can’t just disappear after killing the dark lord!”

“Sure, I can!” Harry said. “My mum needed me!”

“Your what? Potter did you hit your head?”

“No.” Lily said, walking up behind Draco. “He didn’t.”

Draco yelped in shock while Lily waved again.

“Hello Draco, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Eeeep.”

“Harry what did you do?” Hermione demanded, making Harry grin and Lily laugh.

Loki listened, still vibrating, as Harry explained to his three friends about his adventure in the
afterlife and how he found his mother and then had a conversation with Death and figured out how
to bring his mum back to life with him. Loki could admit it was rather clever, a trick he himself
would have been quite proud to pull off. Lily settled back at his side, a smile on her face.

“How are you feeling?” He asked.

“Strange.” She admitted, making him frown. She sighed and tried again. “Heavy? I suppose that’s
the best word for it. It’s not bad I just…haven’t been carrying a body around for a while and I can
feel the pressure of it.”

“I’d like to say that will fade but I don’t know.” Loki said. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” She said. “Even if I feel this odd for the rest of my life I wouldn’t regret it. Not if it
meant being with you.”

“I missed you.” Loki choked out. “Odin, I missed you.”

He let his head collapse onto her’s and let himself smell her hair. Around them the world continued
on as Harry finished telling his story and the Avengers made their way over.

“I missed you too, James.” She said. “So much. You have no idea how many times I tried to reach
out to you, when you were in Asgard trying to tell you to get back to earth for our son and when
you fell from the void I tried. I’m so sorry darling.”

Loki held her a bit tighter as he thought about the voice he’d heard begging him to stop during the
invasion.

“I heard you, sometimes.” He admitted. “Thought I was crazy. Sorry for not listening.”

“Forgiven.” She said. “Oh darling you’re forgiven.”

He shuddered and let himself fall deeper into her arms. He could hear the team, the team that had
somehow become his team, was near and asking about him and the strange woman he was
hugging. He grinned into his wife’s hair and he felt her grin form on his neck. He felt it. He
loosened his grip so that she could turn to look at the group of muggle heroes. She grabbed his
hand and laced their fingers together before walking forward a bright smile on her face. She only
let go of him once they were close enough to the group. Loki was more than happy to be led
around.

“Hello.” She said stopping right in front of Thor. “Thor right? James’ brother?”

“Uh, yes?” He said. “Are you one of Loki’s old friends?”

“Something like that.” She said ever so sweetly. “You know there’s something I always wanted to
do the first time we met?”

“Huh?”

Then Lily lifted up one of her hands, kissed her own knuckles with a spell, and then pulled back
and punched Thor right on the nose. Thor reared back in pain as his nose was broken in one fell
swoop. He stumbled back holding his nose in shock.

“That. Is for making my husband feel poorly about himself for centuries.” She said, and then
flicked her wrist producing her wand, which she then waved a bit, healing Thor’s broken nose.
“And that is for doing better in the last few years.”

Loki could only look at his wife, his face utterly besotted. He had no thoughts in his head except
for how lovely she was, how glorious.

“I…husband?” Thor asked her stupidly.

“Come on Uncle Thor.” Harry said with a grin. “What sort of god of death would I be if I couldn’t
bring my own mum back to life?”

“She punched him.” Tony said suddenly, glee in his voice. “She comes back to life and the first
thing she does is punch somebody in the face! Like mother, like son right?”

That made Loki giggle a little as the other Avengers laughed away their shock.

“Sorry about that.” She said. “I just had to get it out of my system. You would not believe the
original plan I had for you after watching you strut around Asgard for years after my death.”

“No. No.” Thor said with a laugh. “I deserved it. How did you punch me anyway? I’m a god, that
should have broken your hand.”

“Oh, just a charm I invented ages ago.” She said in a tone that made it clear it had been for this
exact purpose and oh how Loki loved her. “It’s a localized weakening charm, it works by
immediately weakening whatever object comes into contact with my fist for as long as I’m
touching it. It took a bit of tweaking, weakening charms are notoriously difficult to do because they
often butt up against the inherent soul of the object being charmed making them flimsy. But I
figured if I localized the charm onto a small surface area, say my knuckles, and had the spell be
active for the moments it took to punch something, then it would work wonderfully. You don’t
need to be super strong you just have to bring everything down to your level.”

Oh, how Loki loved her. He loved her to Asgard and back, he loved her with the strength of a star.
Was there anyone better in all the nine realms than his wife? His beloved wife? He couldn’t
imagine a more perfect person in this or any world. Of course, his son was wonderful, truly
wonderful, but his wife. His wife had spent the precious free time she’d had before her death
designing a spell that would let her punch Thor and any other god that came their way if she had to.

She wouldn’t have needed the spell if she’d planned on punching them after their deaths, which
meant she’d created it for him, for them. Loki had told her how Thor made him feel, he had told
her his fears about Asgard discovering them and Lily had discovered a way she could protect him,
defend him. She’d created a spell she could do wandlessly to bring all of Asgard down to her level.
Just in case her wand was gone, just in case Loki was just as weak as she was physically. Oh, how
he loved her.

All Loki could do was stand there as Lily laughed and introduced herself to the Avengers, one by
one. His wife was smiling and shaking hands and she looked so beautiful his lungs hurt.

“James!” Sirius said, finally pushing his way through the crowds, Remus on his heels. “Where did
you go off to? Honestly, leaving before the fighting’s all done? What were you thinking? And
what’s with your face you haven’t looked like that since your wedding!”

“Uh Sirius.” Remus said, pulling on the man’s sleeve while looking at a grinning and very much
alive Lily who’d hopped back over when she heard Sirius’ yelling.

“Are you not seeing this Moony?” Sirius asked, motioning dramatically to Loki’s face. “He’s
besotted by something!”

“Yeah he sure is.” Remus agreed.

“Did you get hit with a confundus or something Prongs?”

“No.” Loki said, as Lily continued to sneak closer and closer to Sirius. Remus even shuffled away
slightly, a grin on his face. “I didn’t get hit with a spell.”
“Well then what is it?” Sirius demanded. “Because the only thing that ever made you look like that
is Lily Evans and-”

Lily tapped him lightly on the shoulder and Sirius stopped speaking for a moment to glance back.
He saw her face and then yelped, jumping back into Loki’s waiting arms.

“You’re right about that Pads.” Lily said while Loki helped Sirius back onto his feet.

“Lily?” He breathed.

“It’s me.” She confirmed. “Harry might have brought me back with him when Voldemort removed
his horcrux.”

“Removed his hor…Can someone please catch me up?”

They all laughed as Sirius jumped forward and pulled Lily into a hug. He didn’t get to hug her long
before Remus was pulling Lily into his own arms and kissing her cheeks, tears in his eyes. When
they pulled apart Harry happily explained for a second time what he’d done. Loki didn’t listen any
better that time either, too focused on his wife’s smiling face. Lily freed herself from Remus and
Sirius and came over to give him a kiss on the cheek that made his knees feel wobbly and weak.

“I have a feeling Harry’s going to be telling this story far too many times today.” She said,
whispering her thoughts right into his ear. Automatically he reached out to hold her and hummed in
agreement.

“He’s not as bad at telling them as he used to be.” Loki told her.

“I know.” She said. “Hearing him tell the basilisk story hurt my head, I watched that happen and
his telling of it is the textbook definition of an understatement.”

“I love him.”

“Yeah, we made a pretty great kid didn’t we.” She agreed, kissing him again, a fond press of lips
that made his heart beat violently in his chest.

“He’s the best.” Loki argued. “He’s just like you. Kind.”

“And here I thought he was just like you.” She said. “Resilient in the face of cruelty.”

“He got that from you.”

“No, dear.” She said. “That’s all you. Besides, both of you eventually ran away from your homes
and found something, better didn’t you?”

“Perhaps.” Loki allowed. “But his heart, that’s all you.”

“No.” She said. “That’s his I’m afraid. His temper is mine though.”

“Yes, my nose is aware of that.”

“I want to say that I didn’t laugh when he punched you.” She said. “But I saw Ginny teaching him
how to do it and well…it was a very good punch.”

“It was.” Loki agreed with a laugh in his voice. “I’m just glad he gave me a chance after, I really
put my foot in my mouth during that first meeting.”
“And during the second and third and the four-”

“Yes yes, I get it.” Loki said kissing his wife’s lips to stop her from listing out all of his missteps.
She grinned at him, it was strange, in this body he was taller than her. As James they’d been nearly
the same height. “I needed you to guide me, as I always have.”

“Oh, you managed.” She said. “Seeing you two grow together was…it was all I ever wanted,
James. To know you had each other. It was the happiest I’d been since that night…Still.”

“Still?”

“I’m going to take charge for our next one.”

“Next one?” He whispered.

“Didn’t we always want a giant family?” She asked. “That hasn’t changed has it?”

“Oh no. No. I just…It hadn’t even occurred to me.” Loki smiled brightly. “But we can have more,
more time, more of each other, more children, more…everything.”

“James. Lily.” Remus said. “Not that I’m not ecstatic for you, I am. But I don’t think this is the
time nor the place to do your family planning. You-Know-Who is on his way.”

And by You-Know-Who, of course, Remus meant Albus Dumbledore. Albus, who like everyone
else, had not immediately spotted Lily. Loki didn’t understand why all eyes on the battlefield did
not immediately gravitate towards her but still it worked to their advantage. Dumbledore really
only had eyes for Harry, a Harry who had fulfilled the prophecy in a way none of them had
expected. Proving to Albus once and for all that he had been wrong, that he had always been
wrong.

Yet there wasn’t regret on the man’s face. Not like there should have been. Loki snarled, ready to
conjure a knife to start stabbing with when he felt his wife put a hand on his chest.

“Let me handle this, dear.”

Loki nodded, yes he could do that. He let himself fall back next to Remus and Sirius who all
watched with unhidden glee as Lily Evans Potter stalked towards Albus Dumbledore. They all
knew that stalk. That was the stalk of a predator. They had all been victims of that stalk more than
once in their lives. After a poorly conceived prank or other stupid decision Lily Evans had stalked
towards all of them with that same stalk. It never meant good things for anyone it was directed at.

“Oh Harry.” Dumbledore said. “It seems things worked out after all.”

“Headmaster.” Harry said, glaring at Dumbledore. His son was defensive, much of his joy and
enthusiasm fleeing in the face of that smug old man.

Before anything else could happen, Lily arrived with all the force of a Valkyrie.

“Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.” She snarled. Loki didn’t even wince although he
knew that the usage of every single name was the worst sort of sign.

Dumbledore turned at the sight of her and paled, before he could even draw his wand Lily had
wordlessly blasted him with a blasting hex sending him flying into the crowds behind him.
Everyone around them parted like the Red Sea as Lily continued to bear down upon Albus with a
vengeance.
“You don’t talk to my child, you fucking son of a bitch.”

“Lily.”

“The dead talk Albus, they’ve done a lot of talking about you.” She said brandishing her wand
right in his face. “And I am going to ruin you.”

“Now, Lily.” He said. “Surely you don’t want to do something so violent in front of Harry? Your
son wouldn’t like that, he never has.”

Lily cocked her head, pausing for a mere moment before glancing back at her son who paused too.
Harry looked at his mother for a moment and then down at Dumbledore. Then the boy shrugged.

“No, I’m fine with it.”

What?

Before anyone could ask for clarification, Dumbledore brought out his wand, probably to defend
himself with. Lily pounced immediately, hexing Albus and disarming him in one go. The man
wasn’t able to respond quickly enough, still too shocked by Lily’s appearance. Lily caught the
man’s wand in mid air as boils popped out all over his skin, spelling out his crimes. Lily then
looked at the wand and then down at Albus.

“I know how long you worked to get this.” She said, fiddling with the intricate wand. “Which is
why I’m really going to enjoy this.”

Then she brought the wand down on her knee and snapped it clean in half. Dumbledore gasped at
the pain of having his magical focus broken so violently. Lily dropped both now useless halves to
the ground and then smirked down at Dumbledore, who had the word ‘Abuser’ painted across his
face.

“I’m going to destroy you Albus.” She said. “By the time I’m done the entire world is going to treat
you like my sister treated my son. There won’t be a single safe place for you, just like there wasn’t
for my son. You will be despised and mistrusted and guess what? So many people are going to
anxiously wait for the day you die, just like you did with my baby. The truth is coming out Albus
and it’s going to haunt you in this life and the next.”

Loki felt the besotted smile steal over his face once again as Albus Dumbledore quivered on the
bloodstained earth of Hogwarts. Thor quietly lumbered over to Loki and whispered at him.

“Is she always this scary?”

“Isn’t she lovely?”

Thor just gave him a look.

A look Loki chose to interpret as complimentary.

After all, how could anyone do anything but compliment his lovely wife?

“Forget it Thor.” Sirius said. “James’ gone. His brain’s vacated his skull and all that’s stuffed in
there now is goopy affection. He’s useless to us.”

“It does seem that way doesn’t it?” Thor asked, lifting up a hand to wave it front of Loki’s eyes.
Loki slapped it away with a glare. Thor’s meaty paw was blocking the view after all.
“You all are just jealous that I’m married to the most perfect woman in the nine realms.”

“You’re right.” Thor said to Sirius. “He’s gone.”

He was not gone. He was just repurposing his mind towards the more important things. It was
called priorities. When Loki told them that, all three men just rolled their eyes.

Loki chose to interpret that as a compliment too

Loki would not know it of course, although he could have guessed if he tried, that Lily had a plan.
It was a plan she’d concocted quickly enough, seeing as how she’d no idea that she was going to
be coming back to life that day, but it still existed. It was cobbled together from the violent
daydreams she’d been having in the afterlife watching Albus manipulate and gaslight their son
over and over again. It was a plan she would implement over the course of several weeks.

It would happen rapidly really compared to everything else. Lily was nothing but determined.
Within two weeks after today, the first papers would begin to be published about Albus’ crimes,
his descent into infamy would be pushed by a nearly feral Lily. She would poison every source of
water, every spot of relief, against Albus. Everywhere he would turn Lily would be there to slowly
destroy Albus’ position in society. Loki and Harry would not have to do a single thing but watch
(although Loki would gleefully help, along with Sirius and Remus) as Lily got Albus removed as
headmaster, got his chocolate frog card recalled, and got his positions and awards revoked. By the
end of it, Albus would be reduced to living in his home as a hermit, disliked by most everyone and
without the wand he’d worked so hard to retrieve.

Of course, Loki wouldn’t know that all of that was about to happen, he wasn’t Frigga. All he could
think about was how much he loved his wife, what he’d need to do to get her a golden apple, and
that they all needed to rest soon. His son would have to eat and there were funerals to prepare for.
So, with all of that in mind, when Lily finished giving her threats to Dumbledore, Loki walked
forward and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“I think its time we all rested.” He said. “Harry needs to eat, and I’d like you to be seen by a healer.
This pustule will wait for us I’m sure.”

“Alright.” She said glaring down at the old man at her feet. “I’ll start with him tomorrow.”

It was a promise. A threat. And while Loki might not have known it’s contents just yet, it still
made a shiver run down his spine.

It took some time of course to get Lily to a healer and some food to Harry, but Loki was
determined. He found Idunn quickly going between groups of Aesir, doing healing in a way that
she clearly had not for millennium, with ease. He called out to her and she immediately brightened
upon seeing Harry, alive and well, and just as immortal as she. She then spotted Lily and paused.
She, out of everyone, knew the magical circumstances best, which allowed her to put together what
Harry had done with relative ease.

“You are going to need one of my apples.” She said as a greeting.

“I am.” Lily agreed smiling. “If you’d be willing.”

“Ha! Like helping a woman like you would be that much of a hardship. I’ll pick one when I go
back to Asgard, when you come to the golden realm it will be waiting for you.”

“Thank you.” Loki said right as Lily expressed the same sentiments.
“It’s my pleasure.” She said and she sounded like she meant it. “Now, Harry. Sit down here with
your friends and let me heal you three up. Then I’ll see to your mother and make sure you brought
every back just right.”

She did just as she promised. Around them the word was spreading. Thor was telling the Warriors
Three and Sif what Harry had done and Fandral and Volstagg were telling anyone who would
listen from Asgard about it. Sirius and Remus explained it to the Order and from there it spread out
across the entire battlefield, Lily was alive, and she’d hexed Albus Dumbledore. By the time Idunn
had healed all of them of their wounds and declared Lily to be in good health, the crowds around
them had swelled.

Lily was pulled into teary hug after hug from the people who had loved and mourned her. Loki
found himself pulled along with Harry into the hugging and joyful masses. It was chaotic in the
best sort of way and even a bit twisted to be celebrating Lily amidst so much loss. But it couldn’t
be helped, despite everything today was a victory. Voldemort was gone and his family and his
heart was full.

It took far too long for Loki to free his family from the mass. He only did it because he could tell
that both Harry and Lily were tiring. Becoming a god and coming back to life were exhausting
affairs. So, Loki, with the help of Thor, Remus, and Sirius, got the two of them free and snuck
them back to the castle. The students had been put away into the safety of the dungeons and placed
under guard by the older students during the fighting so that left the hallways empty enough for
Lok to secret his family up and away to his rooms in the school. He fed them and got them all
dressed into warm soft clothing.

By the time it was all said and done, night had fallen upon the war-torn Hogwarts. The world was
rejoicing its freedom outside, both in Europe and in America. People were cheering and drinking to
Harry’s name once more. But the three of them didn’t notice, they finished their meals and curled
up together, a cohesive whole. And they finally, blessedly rested.
 Lily's Jaunt
Chapter Summary

Lily has three very important conversations the day after the final battle but only
remembers two of them.

Chapter Notes

Hey everyone! We're really wrapping up here. This has been such a wild ride. I believe
there will be one more chapter after this, with potentially a short epilogue so get your
tissues together!

“Hello Lily.”

“Death.” She said trying not to show her shock.

She was back in the park, the park she had been stuck in for years as she watched her son grow
without her. With the honey taste in the air and the pleasant breeze she’d started to hate. She was
back here? She couldn’t have…no she was alive now surely and-

“Don’t be afraid.” Death said. “You are not dead.”

Death stood in front of her, a woman who looked mostly human with dark skin and gleaming eyes,
in her hands she held a scythe.

“But-”

“I brought your soul here temporarily, in much the same way your son’s soul was connected here,
to speak with you.”

“Oh.” Lily said. “Is this about…”

“Your son tricking me? Yes.” Death answered, her voice only slightly tight. “I do not like when
souls are taken from my care, you gave up your life in a magical sacrifice, it is my right to have
your soul now. Your son pulling you back was not expected. I have never had a soul taken from me
once it had entered my domain as yours had.”

“Are you going to kill me?” Lily asked.

“I considered it.” Death said honestly. “But no. Not yet.”

“Why?” Lily asked.

“The last goddess of death went mad.” Death answered. “She was driven that way by a lack of
good parental guidance and isolation. You son has the potential to be a great tool for me and for
the balance of the universe. I don’t wish to replace him so soon, it would be inconvenient.”
“So, you’re letting me live because it’s convenient.”

“For now.” Death warned softly. “You living is convenient now. That is what I wish to discuss,
what you will need to do for me to remain in your body.”

“Are you extorting me?”

“If you wish to see it like that, then yes.”

“Fine. What’s the deal?”

“Your son’s emotional state must remain balanced. He requires influences in his life that will
ensure he uses his new powers responsibly.” Death said. “As long as you remain such an influence,
I will not claim your soul, of course you will still need to consume an apple to keep your body from
aging and rotting, but you will not die.”

“So, you want me to be his mother.”

“I want you to be a good mother.” Death corrected. “And if it becomes clear you are not able to do
that, then your soul will be forfeit.”

“Oh.”

“Do you accept my deal or shall I reap you now?”

“No. No. I accept.” Lily said. “I’m just wondering, my body feels…heavy.”

“That will pass as your soul adjusts.” Death said. “Your soul was not meant to go back but with my
permission and aid you will normalize back to living in time.”

“Okay. Good.” Lily said. “Thank you for…not killing me.”

“Do not disappoint me, Lily Evans Potter.” Death said. “I will return you fully to your body now,
you will not remember this.”

“If I can’t remember this how am I meant not to disappoint you?”

“That is not my problem.”

Lily woke, not remembering the sugary sweet taste of her dreams.

She’d always been a light sleeper, slow to sleep and quick to wake. Her mother used to say that the
reason she was always awake was because she was frightened of missing out on something
exciting, so much so that even asleep her body was prone and ready to spring up in the event of
something worthwhile. Lily didn’t know how much she agreed with that, but all she knew was that
she was awake now and wasn’t likely to fall asleep again. Sharing a bed with both her son and her
husband on her first night of being alive wasn’t necessarily conducive to sleeping deeply. She had
a feeling she’d only slept as much as she had because coming back to life was exhausting.

Slowly she slipped out from between Harry and James, carefully placing a kiss on both of their
foreheads, whispering a spell into their brows that would let them keep sleeping. She found James’
quills and parchment and wrote out a small note letting them know she was going to get everyone
breakfast and not to worry. She knew they’d probably worry anyway but she couldn’t lay down
now that she was awake, and she couldn’t bare to wake them yet either.
She left the note where she was sure they’d see it and then used magic to conjure up an outfit. Sure
she could put on the robes she’d been wearing the day before, but those had been the robes she’d
been buried in and she didn’t think she ever wanted to touch that outfit again. Sure conjuring
clothing wasn’t ideal, the fabric was always itchy, but it would have to do until she could go
shopping.

Once Lily was dressed, wearing a pair of James’ boots with the jeans and t-shirt she’d conjured up
just for the occasion, she went on her way. It occurred to her as she walked through the castle that
her outfit was about 15 years out of date, when she’d last been alive many women her age had been
wearing flannels around their waist with wide jeans and trainers. It was odd to be in this body
again. She’d been 22 when she died and this body was just as young even if her soul had continued
age terribly as she watched over her son. It almost didn’t feel like she and her body fit anymore.

Yesterday her body had felt heavy, as if it was pushing down and constricting her. That had faded
overnight but now her body felt young, out of time. Around her everything had aged, she could no
longer cradle her son on her hips. The trees on the grounds of Hogwarts were thicker and larger,
the stones beneath her feet just a bit more worn. The world had moved on, her soul had watched it
all, the only thing that wasn’t with the program was her body, a body that was missing fifteen years
of experiences.

She hoped that would fade too. It might help of course if she had clothing that was relevant to the
decade she was in. She readjusted the flannel tied around her waist and made her way through the
school. Some students were already up, not surprising as it was breakfast time. They all looked at
her in awe, whispering to each other about her into one another’s ears. They had done the same to
her son more times than she could count. She smiled and waved at them trying not to show her
discomfort with the attention.

She decided against going to the feasting hall, lest she be mobbed again by the people who’d been
mourning her. She’d go to the kitchens and ask the house elves to do something up for her and her
family. A nice giant breakfast in bed sounded lovely. Just as she was passing the second floor she
heard a familiar voice from down a hallway.

“I do not care.” Severus snarled. “I will be leaving now.”

Oh.

Lily paused. Just down that hallway was Madam Pomphrey’s infirmary.

“Severus Snape you will do no such thing! You were severely magically drained, I cannot allow
you out of that bed!”

Slowly Lily began walking towards the infirmary. She hadn’t spoken to Severus since their fifth
year. She’d blatantly refused to speak to him after that last fight, for the entire year she’d been
feeling more and more upset with her best friend. He’d been messing around with dark magic and
spending time with known Death Eaters. It had frightened and worried her, she’d begged him to
stop all of that, but he hadn’t and when he’d called her that all those years ago, she’d realized that
Sev wasn’t her friend anymore.

She wasn’t like Harry in some ways. Harry had seen a boy his age, an enemy and bully, who was
an active Death Eater and extended a hand of mercy. Lily had seen her best childhood friend
become radicalized to a dangerous cult-like ideology that believed she should be enslaved or killed
over the course of a school year and decided to cut ties. It had hurt her then but it had been obvious
what Sev had chosen, he’d chosen the Dark Lord over her and those two things could not be
together. Sev couldn’t have her and his ideology, his ideology was that people like her should be
destroyed.

She stopped inside the doorway of the infirmary to see Pomphrey pushing a sickly-looking Severus
back onto the bed. He looked old, as old as she felt. The infirmary was fuller than normal, plenty of
injured fighters from their side laying in beds with curtains pulled around them for privacy. She’d
no doubt that Poppy had had to activate the silencing charms to keep Sev from waking up the rest
of the injured.

“Hello Poppy.” Lily said softly making both the healer and Sev freeze.

“Lily.” She said, turning and leaving a stunned Sev in bed. “Are you alright? I was told you’d seen
a healer yesterday and been given a clean bill of health. If there’s something wrong with you then
tell me right away and we’ll fix you up.”

“I’m fine.” She said smiling. “I admit I’m still feeling a bit…odd but I think that’s just natural for
someone in my situation.”

“I don’t think there’s much natural or normal for your situation Miss Evans.” She said wryly
making Lily laugh lightly and agree.

“I just came over because I heard a bit of commotion.” She said motioning over to the statue like
potions master. Poppy sighed.

“The Dark Lord drained all of his marked followers of their magic.” Poppy explained. “Only the
strongest ones with the larger cores survived the onslaught and they are all bedridden, Severus here
believes he’s fit to teach and take care of himself despite being unable to stand.”

“That sounds like him.” Lily said. “I’d suggest just tying him to the bed.”

“I might just have to.” She said. “Would you mind keeping him here for a moment? I need to go
check on a few of my more serious cases.”

“I can do that.” She answered despite knowing it probably wasn’t a good idea but Poppy was
already thanking her and moving towards some of the private rooms on the other end of the
infirmary. She watched her go with a sigh. “Still overworking herself I see. They really should hire
a few others to work with her with the amount of injuries students get.”

“Lily.” Sev said, his voice hoarse.

She glanced over at him, her green eyes cold. She found herself folding her arms across her chest
as her jaw hardened.

“I…”

“Sev, do you really want to have this conversation now?” She asked, motioning at his weakened
body. He was only really sitting up because of the pillows fluffed up behind him, but his dark eyes
were staring at her so desperately. “You should know I’m furious with you.”

“Of course, but you’re…you’re alive.”

“I know who told Voldemort the prophecy Sev.” She said, making him flinch.

“Lily I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

“You became a Death Eater Sev!” She shouted, her voice slapping against the stone walls of the
infirmary. “Don’t you dare tell me you never meant to hurt me.”

“I was angry at muggles.” He defended. “At my father! At your sister! It was never meant to…”

“Death Eaters don’t cheery pick the mudbloods they want to keep around Sev.” She snarled. “Or
maybe they do? Was that the plan then? Let Voldemort kill my son and husband and take me in as
your dutiful wife? As your mudblood whore?”

“No. Lily that wasn’t-”

“Yes, it was! What the hell else would you begging Voldemort to spare me have meant?”

“I just wanted you to be safe! Even if you never loved me, I wanted you safe.”

“Oh Sev.” She said. “Of course, I loved you.”

That seemed to have stunned him and she sighed, leaning more firmly against the stones behind
her. Around them the air was still. They were doing this apparently.

“I never stopped loving you.” She repeated. “Even now I couldn’t stop myself from coming in here
when I heard your voice.”

“Then why did you marry him?”

“And not you?” She asked, she didn’t wait for him to confirm or deny her question. She just kept
pushing through. “Because I never loved you like that Severus.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You were my family Sev.” She said. “My sibling. You were the family that understood me, that
supported me when Tunie stopped. I lost a sister and my parents, but I thought it would be okay
because you were there, I still had my brother. Do you know how much you hurt me when you
started hanging out with those Death Eaters? When it turned out you didn’t love me like I loved
you?”

“I loved you. Of course, I loved you. I just wanted more.”

“You decided being the most important person in my life wasn’t enough.” Lily said harshly. “You
put a romance that never existed over our real relationship. I wouldn’t have been mad at you if
you’d loved me romantically, it would have been awkward, it would have hurt, but we could have
moved on from that. On top of that you joined a cult that wanted to kill people like me and then
while in that cult you directly contributed to my murder.”

Sev flinched at that and Lily told herself not to feel bad.

“You killed me.” She repeated, her voice taking on a sharp sarcastic edge. “And then in an effort to
atone you bullied my son, the baby I died to protect. Yes, of course you loved me, I can’t think of a
more loving action. I mean really! Embarrassing my son in front of all of his peers for years, that’s
practically shouting your love for me from the roof tops! When I saw you attacking Harry’s mind
over and over again under the guise of Occulmency training, I thought to myself now I know it’s
true love.”

“Lily. I love you.”

“Yeah well you’ve done a piss poor job showing it for the past 2 decades.” She said. “And what’s
the point of love if it’s not shown?”

“I changed! I defected from the Dark Lord and risked my life for years spying for the Order.”

“Do you regret becoming a Death Eater or were you only upset that I got hurt?” She asked.
“Because if you regretted becoming a Death Eater you wouldn’t have-”

She stopped at his face. She pinched the bridge of her nose as frustration oozed out of every one of
her pores.

“I want to punch you in the face or hex you or something Sev.” She said. “But you’re bedridden
and even I’m not that vindictive.”

“Your son forgave me.”

“Harry is a kind, lovely soul that you abused, how he decides to deal with your treatment of him is
up to him. He forgave you for what you did to him, that doesn’t mean I have to do the same.”

“But I changed.”

“Severus.” Lily said. “You grew into a man who bullies children and that is not the boy who
befriended me years ago. That’s not the you I’d want to be around even now. Besides, you haven’t
atoned for what you did to me Severus, you just suffered and became harder. That’s not
redemption.”

And finally, he was silent Lily sighed to herself at his stunned and pained face. How was it that
through it all she still cared for him?

“I imagine you assumed that if you suffered enough then it would make you forgivable.” She said.
“But that’s not how it works, not when you spend so much of your time spreading that suffering. I
won’t forgive you for those occulmency lessons. You attacked my son, even when it became clear
your method of teaching him wasn’t working you kept pushing him and hurting him. That isn’t
changing Sev, at least not in the way that matters.”

“So, what then? All of this was for nothing?”

“If you see it that way then it’s obvious why I’m not forgiving you, now.” Lily stood up and spoke.
“I don’t think we should talk again, not for a long time, if ever. And if you take this out on my son
or my husband, you will not like what I do to you.”

“You said now.” He said, grasping for any hope he could. “Lily.”

“Goodbye Sev.”

She couldn’t give him hope, she didn’t want him to become a better person for her. She wanted
him to change for him. If she told him that if he acted in a certain way then she’d give him what he
wanted, then it would be her manipulating him. She wanted him to heal, to grow, for himself. Not
for the love she could never truly give him. She left him lying there, her soul feeling even older in
a body that was still painfully young.

Lily was able to get down to the kitchens to order food to be sent up to James’ rooms without much
more problem. However, going back up to James’ rooms ended up being a bit of trouble. Trouble
in the form of her brother-in-law.

“Lily!” Thor boomed, his face breaking out into a delighted grin.
“Thor.” She said.

“Where is my brother and nephew?”

“Still asleep.” Lily answered. “I think they’re both a bit worn out.”

“Ah.” Thor nodded. “That makes sense, becoming a god is not easy on the body.”

“Right.” Lily said. “I’m about to head up there with breakfast so…”

“I wanted to speak to you.” Thor said. “Or rather, my father and mother want to meet you before
going back to Asgard. Please don’t punch either of them.”

“I’m not sure I should meet them without James.” Lily said, not promising anything about the
punching just yet.

“It’s not bad.” Thor insisted. “They just want to introduce themselves.”

“Fine but if something goes wrong I’m blaming you and you can deal with James’ fit.”

Thor agreed to her terms and then led her to another part of the castle where the various fighters
who had come to witness the final battle were staying. The Avengers were there along with a few
mildly injured Order members, Sirius, Remus and a fair amount of Asgardians. She found the royal
couple sitting down for breakfast, they were both relatively uninjured, although Lily didn’t know if
that was because they’d been uninjured in the fight or if they’d been healed.

“Mother, father.” Thor said. “I found Lily, Loki’s wife.”

Odin and Frigga both looked up. Frigga had a look of delight on her face as she clasped her hands
in front of her chest and beamed at Lily. Odin looked far less enthused. It took Lily a moment to
understand the dread she saw in his face. Lily kept herself from rolling her eyes.

“It’s nice to meet you both.” She said. “And All-Father, I think Harry did my job for me when it
came to defending James’ honor. I won’t be doing anything to do you as long as you don’t go back
on your word.”

She finished that with a flinty look in her eye, the threat clear in her eyes about what she would do
if Odin slipped. Because she would hurt him, and she wasn’t going to play around with the kid
gloves like Harry did. She’d seen her son’s and Odin’s first conversation, she knew what Harry had
done and while it was not what she would have done, Harry had taken Odin to task and gotten him
to change his behavior. That was what mattered. Odin slumped forward in relief before he could
hide his true reaction, which made both Frigga and Thor titter.

“I won’t.” Odin said. “I have been attempting to atone for my mistakes, Harry made it clear how
my actions had harmed my family and the nine realms. Loki and mine’s relationship isn’t perfect
yet but…I wanted to ensure you and I started on the right foot, for Loki.”

“For Loki.” She agreed with a smile. “Let’s get along perfectly.”

And after that it was much easier to get to know Odin and Frigga. She told them how she and
James met, and how he eventually convinced her that he wasn’t totally awful. It made them laugh
and it made her smile. When she finished, Frigga sighed almost forlornly.

“Oh, I wish we could have attended the wedding.” She said. “A celebration of love this strong is
something so beautiful to witness.”
“Ah well.” Lily said. “James and I didn’t have a wedding. With the war going on there wasn’t
time, we got married with just a couple of witnesses, you really didn’t miss much.”

And Frigga suddenly looked very, very dangerous.

“Oh really?” She asked. “How interesting.”

Lily sent a mental apology to her sleeping husband, things were about to get very intense. The
goddess of marriage was on the hunt after all.
 A Royal Wedding
Chapter Summary

Today is the day. Harry can hardly wait. His parents are getting married!

Chapter Notes

This is it! The last chapter! I plan on writing a small epilogue. you know the whole 17
years later thing, just to wrap up some final plot points (*cough* *cough* shield
brothers *cough* *cough*) that I've been neglecting until now, but the major story is
finished! It ends as it began, with something obvious.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Today was the day!

Today!

Today of all days!

It was happening today, the first of July in the year 2014, according to the current earth calendar.
Over two years since his dad had, under mind control invaded earth, and almost 6 months since the
final battle.

What was it that was going to be happening on this glorious summer day?

Why Harry’s parents were getting married.

Harry woke that morning in his bedroom. And yes it was his. He’d been living in it for the entire
summer now, with visits to the Avengers and his friends on earth at least once a week if not more.
Harry had spent the months from May to July living in the royal palace of Asgard. Sleeping in his
own bed, wearing clothing made just for him, and practicing his magic and training with Tyr and
the other trainees. He’d moved to Asgard after the school year had ended, just like Uncle Thor had
promised him after his first visit. Thor had promised he could have it one day and now it was true.

It had been an idyllic summer. Made more so by Frigga’s intense planning of his parents’ wedding.
After the funerals had been held and the dust had cleared from the final battle, Frigga had
unleashed herself on the world. She was the goddess of marriage and there was finally a royal
wedding to plan. Harry got the strange feeling that Frigga had had children with the intention of
getting to plan their weddings. When she wasn’t fussing over his mum and dad to ensure their
wedding was perfect, she seemed to gain great enjoyment from shaming Thor for not having a
partner to bring to dinner.

Thor dealt with it as well as one could expect.

Which was with a lot of pouting.

When he complained everyone told him he just needed to find a good wife and his mother would
stop bothering him. Sirius was the one to point out that Loki was now the favorite child which both
of his parents took great glee in.

Either way. The wedding.

According to his fussy grandmother it normally took decades to plan an aesir wedding. Weddings
were an event that joined two families and when everyone in the family lived forever, weddings
were a huge deal. The wedding itself could last for weeks as well depending. The ceremony itself
was short but the entire event was something like a nation wide party. A royal wedding was going
to be turned up to the max. Not only was every Asgardian invited and expected to come, but
leaders and delegates from other realms too.

Somehow Frigga had managed to pull this wedding together without taking decades to do it.
Normally the decades were taken up by the legal debate about the two interested parties. First both
families had to be convinced it was a fruitful match, that the two potential lovers could work well
together and could produce healthy heirs. Aesir had a limited population and they were far more
careful about inbreeding than the purebloods had ever been. Thankfully, Harry was living proof
that his parents could have healthy children and work well together. So that problem was taken
care of.

Next both families had to decide on a bride price for the bride, one that was acceptable for both
families. This step could take years on its own. Unfortunately, that step also required going to his
mum’s nearest living relative and head of house, his Uncle Vernon. Everyone decided that the
bride price the royal family of Asgard would pay for his mum was not killing Vernon for abusing
Harry. Odin had even traveled to Privet Drive to make that offer and by make, Harry had suspicions
that Odin was more interested in threatening than offering.

Lily had already scared his relatives half to death by coming back to life and knocking on the front
door in full witch gear talking loudly about visiting her Satan-Worshipping sister and brother-in-
law where all of the neighbors could hear her. What his mother had said to his relatives was
something Harry would never know and frankly he really didn’t care anymore. He trusted that his
mum had said what she’d needed to. Odin had returned to Asgard looking rather proud and told
them all over dinner that Vernon had accepted the bride price of not being turned into paste and so
the wedding could commence.

The final step of the wedding was ensuring everyone could make it. A royal wedding especially
was going to be the host to thousands, and it would be rude if it was planned so that only some of
the invitees could attend. Frigga had somehow managed to get a date together that wasn’t so far
into the future that all of the human friends they had would be dead before it happened could
attend. Harry had a feeling Frigga also didn’t want to wait decades to marry them, the months it
took to plan had seemed to long for the ancient goddess. So here they were, nearly 6 months after
the end of the war, and the wedding was on.

Harry woke up that morning with a smile on his face. He could taste the excitement in the air,
every magic user in the city was sending out the same vibrant feeling into the atmosphere with
their spells. It tingled and made Harry wiggle his toes as he got up to dress. Harry quickly washed
up and made sure his hair was acceptably messy as there was still no spell in the nine realms that
would make it behave completely. He dressed in the formal Aesir wear, putting every bit of fitted
fabric on with care.

Harry knew he wouldn’t see his parents until the wedding ceremony itself. Both of his parents had
had to go away to be prepared for the ceremony. Only adults could be a part of the ceremonial
preparations so Harry was sort of left on his own. He knew that yesterday his dad had left on a
quest to retrieve a sword from his ancestor’s grave and with him had gone all of his male friends to
aid him in his quest.

Sure on paper it didn’t sound dangerous but the graves of aesir were notoriously protected and
booby-trapped. Bor himself had been buried deep in the mountains of Asgard, his grave protected
by guardians of metal and stone, a fair number of trolls, and some nasty enchantments. His dad had
to get through all of that and retrieve one of the many weapons Bor had had buried with him to
present to his mum at the altar. This was how his dad would prove himself worthy of her hand. His
dad was allowed to bring friends along to support him, but that was mostly so that he didn’t die.
His dad had to do all the hard work himself or it didn’t count. Thor and Sirius had both pulled
Harry aside and told him not to worry about it, they’d keep his dad in one piece.

His mum was similarly tied up although Harry knew far less about what she was being expected to
do. All he was allowed to know was that his mum had to go through a series of rituals while
attended by her female friends, these rituals would test her strength and honor in order to prove that
she was worthy and able to marry his dad. Harry also knew these rituals would end with some sort
of magical bath, but that was all he’d been allowed to know. The rituals went all the way back to
the time of the Valkyrie in fact and were considered intensely sacred. Harry would only know
about them if he decided to become a woman himself and then marry someone else as a woman.

Which he had no intention of doing.

Either way Harry had duties of his own to fulfill. He was a prince after all. And princes were meant
to do princely things during big events. He’d gotten his first taste of that during the funeral feasts
held after the Final Battle, as the god of death and the winner of the war, he’d been expected to be
a large part of those feasts. His dad had helped him through each and every step of the ceremonies
and feasts. After that his grandfather had started training him and Harry felt very confident in what
he was expected to do today.

So, after a hardy breakfast with the other trainees where they all made fun of him for wearing such
fancy clothes, Harry got on his broom and flew over to the Bifrost. He met up with Heimdall there
who was also in very fancy golden armor, fancier than his normal set, just for the occasion.

“Hello Hiemdall!” Harry greeted.

“Prince Haraldr.” He said a smile in his eyes. “Are you ready to begin?”

“I am.” He said, putting his boom in an unseen corner and standing right where Hiemdall suggested
he do so.

“First we will bring in the human attendants, they have all gathered as planned at Avengers Tower,
I will send a message alerting them to gather on the roof, and once they have, I will open the
Bifrost for them.”

“Sounds great. I’m ready to welcome them.”

As a prince of Asgard, it was Harry’s royal duty to welcome the visiting delegates from other
realms to Asgard and to the wedding itself. This had been left for him to do because every other
member of the royal family was busy making sure that his mum and dad were ready to be married
in front of the entire universe and the norns themselves. Harry didn’t mind this, it was something
he could do to help things run smoothly. Especially with some of the guests that were coming.

The Bifrost turned on quickly enough and soon there were plenty of humans falling through the
entry way and into the golden dome of the Bifrost.

“Mate!” Ron yelled happily in greeting. Harry pulled Ron into a hug and then hugged Hermione
and soon he was hugging all the rest of them. He’d gotten quite good at hugs over the past year.

Hermione had come with her parents, the two of them only slightly ill from the magical travel. The
pair of dentists looked more excited than anything. Ron had brought his family as well, Fred and
George were decked out quite spectacularly in offensively bright orange robes. Their god was
getting married after all. Harry warned them not to pull pranks until after the ceremony and they
swore on their honor they’d get it right. He hugged Mr. and Mrs. Weasley happily, the Weasley
Matriarch was already sniffly and the wedding hadn’t even started. Luna had been invited along
with her dad, so too had Draco and his mum. Both Malfoy’s were dressed in their finest attire.

Neville was there too and he brought with him his gran and dad, his mum was already in Asgard,
acting as Harry’s mum’s maid of honor. Idunn had been kind enough to heal the two of them before
going back to Asgard. She had in fact gone to St. Mungo’s and healed every single patient inside
before going back to Asgard. She’d claimed it was because she had excess magic she wanted to
purge but Harry could tell she’d just wanted to help.

The Longbottom family was now just as whole as Harry’s own. Both of Nev’s parents had some
remaining weakness from the cruciatus, things that couldn’t be truly healed because they’d been
left so long. So Frank Longbottom tended to forget things unless you wrote it down for him and
Alice couldn’t feel anything in her fingers or toes. Still it was miraculous. Neville had become an
entirely different boy, although still a slightly clumsy one, with the full return of his parents. His
grandmother stopped being completely terrifying. Harry had even spent a few weekends at
Longbottom Manor when his mum wanted to visit Alice.

“Alright.” Harry said. “The Avengers are with my parents and so is Mrs. Longbottom and Sirius
and Remus. They’ll meet up with you at the beginning of the ceremony. For now there’s a ship
right outside, it’ll take you to the royal courtyard. There’s food and that’s where the ceremony will
be so feel free to eat and explore.”

“Aren’t you coming with?” Fred asked.

“Come on Harrikins, you can’t miss the biggest party of the millennium!” George added.

“I’ll be there once all of the guests have been welcomed.” Harry said, affecting a very Percy-like
tone. “Some of us have jobs to do.”

Percy rolled his eyes while George and Fred started giggling. Mrs. Weasley told them to behave
themselves.

“Alright dearie.” She said. “We’ll be waiting for you.”

He waved them away a smile on his face as all of his human friends got into one of the floating
golden ships that was parked right outside the Bifrost. Once Hermione had helped her dad jump
aboard the ship, it lifted gently into the air and took them away.

“Now. Who is next?”

“The goblins.”

Harry wiggled happily and waited as Heimdall prepared for the Goblin Chief and Lady of the
Forge. His relationship with the goblins had warmed after he’d killed Voldemort. He’d been able to
become better at not saying offensive things and asking the right sort of questions. Harry had, in his
first meeting with Ricbert, requested her patience after the war was over. And she had granted him
it. It helped that he had invited her and the others to come to the wedding, Harry had brought it up
to Odin and the king had ruffled his hair and praised him for coming up with the idea.

“Child of Lily.” Ricbert greeted, a pleased look on her face.

“Chief Ricbert.” Harry said bowing. “And company.”

“May I introduce our King? King Snaglot the Great.”

“It is an honor. Thank you for coming today.” Harry said bowing even lower. “And thank you
more so for working with me and allowing me to weild one of your swords.”

“Peace, Child of Lily.” The grizzled king said. “You have purchased that right fairly and earned
your right to work with mine own due to your diligence.”

“Thank you.” Harry said. “I hope you enjoy your stay in Asgard, there’s a ship waiting to take you
to the place of the ceremony. There will be food there for you as well as guests to meet and greet. I
know that the King of the Dwarves, King Nordri, will be arriving shortly. He has expressed
interest in meeting you and yours to compare smithing techniques.”

“Ah. What a challenge that would be.” Snaglot said dismissively, implying he believed his people
were much better at smithing than any other. Harry’s eyes didn’t miss the gifts the goblins had
brought in chests made of gold and goblin silver.

“I only request you wait to have any competitions until after the wedding.” Harry said. “Please, I
know you and yours would win and I’d rather focus on my parents being wed than comforting the
losers.”

“Of course, Child of Lily, we will be civil.”

And when the Dwarven Contingent arrived right after the goblins, with chests made of Uru and
gold, Harry begged the king to avoid starting any competitions with the goblins, because he wanted
to focus on his parents being married, not comforting the obvious goblin losers. King Nordri
agreed with a laugh, happy that Harry thought him to be the best. Once they were on their way
Heimdall spoke.

“You had better hope they don’t tell the other what you said.”

“Uhm.” Harry said. “I’m sure dad’ll take care of it if that happens.”

“Hmmm.”

“Who’s next?”

“The Vanir, then the elves.”

With the Vanir came their queen, the goddess of beauty herself, who had a magical aura so
attractive it made a Veela look tame. Harry managed to keep himself under control and welcomed
her with a smile and a polite bow. Her husband, King Freyr, looked quite happy with his actions
and Freya pinched his cheek telling him he was far too adorable for his own good. Of course, they
brought their own gifts stored in finely woven bags, made of a strange silken fabric Harry couldn’t
name.

The elves, whom Harry had long wanted to meet, came through the Bifrost with songs leaving their
lips. Their magic tingled and felt so similar to his own. They had strange pupilless eyes and long
oddly shaped ears. Harry thanked them for coming and then mentioned that he would love to hear
them sing their magic one day.

“I’ve an affinity for it, at least my father believes so, and I would love to learn from you and yours
King Rennyn.” Harry said honestly.

“We would be honored to host you.” He sang back his voice jumping up and down following some
tune Harry could not hear.

“Oh yes.” Another elf spoke, their voice adding to the harmony. “We would love to add your voice
to ours.”

“Thank you, I look forward to it.” Harry answered. “Please, be welcomed in Asgard and enjoy the
wedding!”

Then they were alone. Technically there were still other realms they could have invited. But Sutur,
King of the Fire Giants, had declared in a blood oath to destroy Asgard and Frigga had felt that
would ruin the mood. Even if Thor and Odin both felt a good battle before the wedding itself
would add a bit of excitement. Then there was Hel, which currently only had one inhabitant the ex-
goddess of death, whom Odin admitted would probably kill them all if invited. Frigga had looked
quite sad at that but had agreed, promising to explain more later, once the wedding was over and
things had calmed.

There was really only one people left to invite.

It had been Harry who had argued for it, first to his dad, then when he hadn’t wanted to listen, to
his mom. She had listened and agreed, and she’d convinced dad by doing little more than just
looking at him directly when she asked. Then when he’d agreed to it, they’d had to convince Odin
and Frigga that it could possibly be a good idea. Which had taken a bit longer. But Harry had been
adamant. Peace was the only option for the future. He wanted peace on earth and he wanted peace
here. This could work.

Besides, the current king of Jotunheim was King Helblindi, Harry’s uncle. He couldn’t be worse
than Vernon.

It had been Loki who had extended the invitation. Harry and his mum had sat by his side as he had
carefully penned out a letter, explaining why in Merlin’s name he’d be contacting them. He had
told them what he knew from Odin, that he was Laufey’s son and that Odin had taken him in as a
fosterling. He had apologized for the strained relationship between their realms, for the death of
Laufey and for the damage to their lands. He had then extended an invitation to the wedding and
also to finally reclaim what was rightfully theirs.

They had accepted. Although whether or not that was because they just wanted a chance to regain
the Casket of Winters or because they genuinely wanted to come to an Asgardian Wedding was up
for debate. His dad had been jittery about it ever since, they all had. But Harry was hopeful. He
didn’t know much of anything about Jotuns but he hadn’t known anything about Asgardians a year
ago, there was always time to learn.

“Are they ready?” Harry asked.

“They are.” Heimdall said.

“Don’t sound like that.” Harry said. “This is good. It’s time to bury the hatchet, or at least try. This
is going to be good.”

“I do hope you’re right.”

Then the Bifrost activated and out stepped two, 6 meter tall blue skinned giants. The dome of the
Bifrost was at least 10 meters tall, which meant that the towering figures that were well over
double Harry’s height could stand comfortably within it. They both had skin the color of cobalt
with raised black lines along their face and entire upper body. Their ruby red eyes looked down at
both Harry and Heimdall with suspicion. Frost grew along the floor from where the two beings
stood, growing centimeter by centimeter as the tension grew. Harry gazed up at the men, noting the
horns on their heads that looked quite sharp.

“Hullo.” Harry said. “You must be King Helblindi and Prince Býleistr of Jotunheim. I’m Prince
Haraldr Lokison. Thank you for honoring us with your presence today at my parents’ wedding.”

The one on the left, who was wearing a crown of matte metal on his head, whom Harry assumed to
be Helblindi narrowed his eyes and then crouched down so that he was eye level with Harry, or at
least closer to it. At his movement Heimdall readied his sword while Harry flinched a little in
shock. The king looked Harry over, starting with his boots and then moving all the way up to his
hair.

“Hmmm.” He said, his voice rumbling loudly through the dome. “You have our dam’s hair.”

“What?”

“Queen Faurbauti, our dam.” He repeated. “Their hair looked like yours when it was allowed to
grow, always stuck up in the back.”

It was not at all what Harry had been expecting him to say. He did not in fact know what he had
expected.

“Uhm. Thank you?” Harry said, making the king smirk and straighten up.

“Why have we been invited here?” He asked him.

“My parents are getting married.”

“No. Why invite us, your enemy, here.”

“You’re not my enemy.” Harry said. “Laufey was Odin’s enemy. I’m from Midgard I was raised
there, we don’t see you as enemies there anymore.”

“You are a prince of Asgard, do not lie, Asgard sees us as nothing more than monsters.”

“Which should change.” Harry said jutting out his chin. “I want to change that. My father is your
brother, but he was raised here. And my mother is human. I am part of your people, I want peace
between us.”

“Peace? An Asgardian who believes in peace! I have to laugh.”

“Peace is the only thing worth fighting for.” Harry said. “And even if I live my whole life and
never manage it fully, I’ll still work for it, cause even if I only make a small change towards it, it’d
be worth it.”
Helblindi looked down at him with a smirk, a similar smirk could be found on his brother’s face.
They both looked similar to his dad in some ways, their noses and brows had the same shape.

“I…” Helblindi said. “Could not agree more.”

“Really?” Harry asked brightly at the same time that Heimdall lowered his sword in shock.

“Really. I swear on the very magic that lives in me, on my connection to the ice of my realm, that I
wish to fight for peace.”

“Well then King Helblindi.” Harry said smiling. “Welcome to Asgard.”

Harry ended up leading the Jotuns to the royal courtyard. By leading he meant that the king had
picked him up and placed him on his broad shoulders, smiling at how ‘adorably slight’ he was.
Harry then gave directions while trying not to fall off. The King explained that he had no interest in
continuing the war of his father. Laufey had been a cruel harsh man, showing love to nothing and
aggression to all. Helblindi had been raised to take his place, to crave violence and blood. But he
and his brother had chosen a different path after Laufey’s murder.

“Really, we owe our oldest brother a debt, he freed us from quite the tyrant.” Býleistr said his
voice deep and gravelly. “And now he is offering us the Casket? We were suspicious it was a
trap.”

“What’s Jotunheim like?” Harry asked deciding to change the subject.

“Cold.” Helblindi answered.

“Oh.”

“And beautiful.” He added making his brother snort in amusement. “You should visit us during the
summer, when our skies are painted with colors you cannot even imagine when our magnetic field
activates for months at a time. We may not have feasts like the Aesir, but we have dances.”

“Wouldn’t I get squished?”

“Oh no. You’d dance with the other mages.” Helblindi said. “They’d be around your size. Did you
not know there were other small Jotun?”

“Uhm.”

“That would explain why our brother called himself a runt.” Býleistr said. “Haraldr, our magic
users are smaller Jotun. We believe it to be a recessive gene within us, producing small but
powerful Jotun. Small Jotun are far more easily able to weild magic beyond the ice magic all Jotun
can do. If you and your father were to visit, there would be many beings your size to walk amongst
and know.”

“Oh.” Harry said. “That’s…that’s good to know. I think I’d like to visit, convincing my dad might
be hard though.”

“Do not worry about that.” Helblindi said as they finally arrived at the courtyard. “I will make the
invitation myself.

Harry felt like he’d entered into some alternate dimension as the two giants walked into the royal
courtyard and settled in the spot left aside for them, that had specially made seats their size. He
was carefully lowered down by the king who told him to call him uncle. The crowds of people in
the courtyard were staring at the Jotuns with uncertainty so Harry only smiled and brightly said.

“Do you want to meet my friends?” Harry asked. “They’re over there.”

By friends Harry meant anyone he could think to drag over. He plowed through the awkwardness
of the situation by pretending everything was normal and slowly people began to comply. By the
time the wedding was set to begin much of the tension had fled and the presence of the Jotun
royalty had been accepted, at least it appeared so to Harry. The wedding began with everyone
moving to settle in their seats around an altar made of gray stone. The rock had dozens of runes
carved artfully around it.

The people who had attended his parents, the Avengers and Alice and Sirius and Remus, came
next, sitting nearer to the altar. Sirius gave Harry a thumbs up to show that everything had gone
well on his end. Thor was sporting a pretty terrible black eye from who knew what, but he was
smiling quite happily nonetheless.

Next came Odin and Frigga. The leaders of Asgard were dressed in matching gold, nearly glowing
with their power. Frigga looked especially radiant as she settled behind the altar, a mantle of power
around her shoulders as she readied herself to seal his parents together for all time and eternity.
This was a bond that would exist beyond death, in this life and in every one thereafter, a binding of
souls.

The altar was placed in the center of the courtyard, with everyone seated around it in two semi-
circles, forming a line that went north and south straight down the center. Frigga stood to the east,
looking out over Asgard, with all the regal bearing of a queen. She lifted both of her hands up to the
clear blue sky, and the crowd quieted.

“Come.” She spoke, her voice echoing through the air. Harry leaned forward and looked down
both ends of the path to see that his mother and father were on opposite ends. Ron and Hermione
sat by his side, both hushed and waiting. Slowly both of his parents began to march towards the
center, careful to move at the exact same pace as the other, a symbolic coming together of two
equals.

When they both entered the circle of the crowds, Frigga began to hum. Magic burst invisibly out of
her, sending shivers down Harry’s spine as it reached out in a perfect sphere touching every single
witness and reaching out towards his parents. His mum was wearing a white dress. White dresses
were a very human custom but his mum had insisted she be allowed to wear a bridal gown, Frigga
had been charmed by the idea. It was long and flowing with sheer sleeves that were cuffed with
lace at her wrists. Her long red hair, which she’d been growing out, was styled with intricate braids
and pinned with flowers. She also had a circlet going around her forehead made of the finest of
silver. His mum was carrying in her right hand the sword of Godric Gryffindor.

His dad was wearing very traditional Aesir wear. A fine green tunic with golden thread
embroidered along the chest in the shape of the Yggdrasil was paired with fitted trousers and boots
made of dragon hide. He also had a cape on as well as the golden horned helmet that Harry still
thought looked a bit silly. His dad was carrying his own sword, a large thing about as long as Harry
was tall, that had spikes of sharp metal along the sides. It was a fearsome looking weapon.

When his parents finally neared the altar, they stopped.

“Kneel.” Frigga said, her voice filled with power.

Both of his parents knelt across from one another, their knees touching the stone floor of the
courtyard at the same time.
“Present your offering, Lily Evans.” Frigga said softly. “And make your vows.”

His mother lifted the sword and placed the blade on the altar, it made a melodic ringing sound that
vibrated through Harry’s ribcage.

“I present to you this sword.” She said. “A weapon of great strength and worth that you may use to
defend and to conquer. I vow to stand beside you, to guard you, to guide you, and to be guided by
you. I vow to love you, to support you. This I vow until the end of all things.”

“Loki Odinson.” Frigga said. “Take your weapon.”

Slowly his dad reached out with his free hand, over the altar and took the handle of the blade from
his mum. She passed it over to him as gently as she could, careful not to nick him with the
dangerous blade.

“Now.” Frigga said. “Present your offering and make your vows.”

“I present the great sword of Bor, which he used to defeat the Dark Elves nearly 5000 years ago. It
is the blade of a warrior, of a hero. I present it to you, that you may keep it for our future children,
that we may raise great heroes together. I vow to love you, to love you with all that I am. I vow to
protect you, and to listen to your wise counsel. This I vow and more, more that I lack the words to
express. I vow that you will have my heart and my soul, until the end of all things.”

“Lily, take your weapon.”

Carefully his mum reached out. It was difficult for her to get to the other end of the long blade
without cutting herself or getting off of her knees. Both of his parents had to strain over the top of
the altar to make it happen. When his mother got a hold of the handle she grunted under the weight
but took it anyway. Her arms quivered from the strain as she dragged it over the altar and brought
it down to her lap with a thud.

The alter began to glow purple.

“I, the goddess of marriage, have seen your offerings and I have heard your vows.” She said, then
she waved her hands. To the north and south, at the end of the paths his parents had just walked
two large mirrors appeared parallel to the other. Harry could look down either direction and see his
reflection mirrored back at himself a thousand times. “You stand before me, ready to bind
yourselves to one another, to bind your families together. Look forward and see the past reflected to
you, remember those who have lived and died, who bore you. Look forward and see the future, the
children you will bear and raise. You kneel before this altar, a link in the line of eternity ready to
be formed.”

The longer Frigga spoke the more of her power Harry could feel. The altar was glowing brightly
too, it’s light reaching out to caress his parents.

“I find your souls to be well matched, to be fruitful.” Frigga said after a moment of silence. “Place
your weapons upon the floor beneath you and touch the altar with both hands so that I may bind
your souls.”

His parents did that, his mum letting the sword drop with a clatter, unable to move the incredibly
heavy thing smoothly. His parents touched the altar at the same time, their palms flat against the
smooth stone. Harry held his breath as he watched Frigga place her hands over theirs. She then
spoke in a language Harry did not know, he did not need to know it. The spell she was speaking
was obvious. He could feel the magic of his parents’ souls being connected. A link between them
that would allow them to find each other even after death. It was the most beautiful thing he had
ever felt. He didn’t even realize he was crying until Hermione reached out and wiped his cheeks
for him.

The altar began to hum loudly as Frigga finished her melodic chanting. It hummed to a crescendo
and then it flashed so brightly Harry had to close his eyes against it. When it finished, Harry looked
back to see Frigga smiling.

“Rise.” She said. “Rise and greet the world anew as the Royal House of Loki.”

Frigga took his parents’ hands and lifted them both up. Then with a swish of her wrist she produced
two golden apples. She handed one to each of the newly married couple.

“Feed one another, let the strength of the eternities come to you from the hand of your partner.”

Harry watched as his dad carefully held out the apple to his mother’s lips. She smiled at him and
held out her own. It wasn’t strictly necessary for his dad to eat one, he’d already had one as a baby.
But it was tradition for both couples to eat one more, for the symbolism of it more than anything.
This would be the first time that one of Idunn’s apples was used in a wedding to turn a mortal
immortal though.

Everyone held their breath as both parties took a bite of the other’s apple at the same time. They
were careful to ensure that none of the golden juice dripped from their fingers to the stone floor
below. Biting and eating every single bit of each apple. His mum had to eat it all to ensure the
transformation worked completely. They finished by licking each other’s fingers clean, which was
just a little weird, but felt almost not weird in the setting.

His mum was literally glowing now as the transformation happened. It only took a few moments
before it was finished. She looked more golden than she had before, more solid, even as she
swayed under the changes.

“It is done.” Frigga said. “I pronounce you married, now complete this union in the way of Lily’s
people and kiss, so that even the norns themselves may know what I have bound together.”

His dad nearly leapt over the altar, reaching for his mom’s face and pulling her gently to his lips.
The crowds began to cheer loudly as the marriage was sealed in front of them all. Harry found
himself jumping up and running to his parents, knowing the ceremony was over. They pulled apart
from their kiss just in time to hug him.

It was done.

They were married. They were family.

It took what felt like a happy little eternity for the cheering to die down. When it did Odin declared
the race to the feasting hall was on. Now the wedding could begin in full Aesir style with a feast
that would last for a month. His parents would only be there for the first three days, after which
tradition would have them sequester themselves for the next three weeks for the honeymoon only
to return for the final three days of the feast. Harry would miss his parents, who were going to go
somewhere off planet to be with each other, but he was happy for them, really happy.

And if he got a baby brother or sister out of the deal then who was he to complain?

The race to the wedding feast was another tradition. The first being to enter the feasting hall was
said to be blessed with a union of their own. People rushed through each other to get to the great
hall, while Harry picked up Bor’s giant sword for his mum. Harry had no idea who got to the
 feasting hall first and he didn’t really care. He walked with his parents until they got inside. The
next tradition dealt with his dad, who stood in the entryway of the feasting hall. He lifted Godric
Gryffindor’s sword and slammed it into the marble floor as deeply as he could.

Tradition stated that the deeper the sword went the stronger the marriage would be.

No one was surprised that he got it all the way down to the hilt.

The feast was massive, the great feasting hall had been magically expanded to fit the thousands of
beings within it. It felt like the size of two or three quidditch stadiums. There were tables laden
heavy with food and mead. Odin opened the feast with a toast towards the happy family once he
and his parents found their seats at the head table. The crowd roared again and the feast began in
earnest. People ate until they were too full to eat, then they went to sleep, only to return as soon as
they could to eat more. People sang and danced and cheered for hours.

Gifts were presented and vows of loyalty offered. All of this passed Harry by in a daze of joy. He
felt lightheaded with happiness as he sat next to his beaming parents. Not even their flirting could
bring him down, and they were doing a lot of flirting. He noticed some things, like Ron and
Hermione talking to Idunn. His dad leaving to meet with his biological brothers. Sirius flirting with
Sif of all people and not getting stabbed. He spotted Baldur and Draco meeting for the first time
and giggled to himself as they argued about who was a better rival for him. The goblins and the
dwarves were having a silent but stiff competition about who was better. The Avengers were
mingling with the warriors in the crowds sharing stories of valor. Fred and George waited to pull
pranks until after his parents had left and their pranks mostly involved loud noises and magical
transformations that made people laugh.

Harry moved amongst the crowds meeting people and laughing and feeling light. Gone was every
weight upon him as he managed to feast and party like the god he had become for a full month. He
slept when he was tired and always returned to the feasting hall when he woke to find the feast still
going strong and loud. His friends stayed with him, sleeping in his rooms when they got tired.
There were games and dances to learn. There were hugs to give and jokes to share. When the feast
ended, Harry was there to send every visiting group home. He hugged his human friends, bowed to
the goblins and dwarves, accepted a cheek pinch from Freya, and promised to visit the elves and
the jotuns when the chance arrived.

As the final groups left and the aesir went home to rest, Harry remembered the words Frigga had
given him all those months ago at Christmas. She had told him she had hope. Harry understood
that now more than ever. He felt as he flew back to his rooms, the day before his 17th birthday, that
he was filled with nothing but hope. Nothing could stop him now, nothing. When the summer
ended, he’d return to a planet earth that was safer than ever. He was going to graduate from
Hogwarts and then he was going to fight for peace, for all the good and kind things in the world.

The next morning he woke to a small cake and his parents smiling faces, he didn’t even realize
he’d failed to stay up till midnight to wish himself a happy birthday. He guessed as he looked at the
17 candles placed carefully on the cake that he’d known he hadn’t needed to. After all, if him
being a demigod had been obvious then his parents loving him enough to remember his birthday
was too.

Chapter End Notes

Thank you for taking this journey with me. It's been an honor to write for you all,
especially in these trying times. I hope this story touched you enough that you want to
go back and read it again one day.
 One Year Later
Chapter Summary

Ron, Hermione, and Harry plan for the future.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

1 Year Later:

There was, if one knew where to look, a few places in Asgard that were perfect for being alone.
The royal library was generally empty and perfect for a nap in a sunny window or a nice long
solitary reading time. There were a few armories that were used for storing materials for war that
had been put away and nearly forgotten, the dark dusty rooms were a bit uncomfortable, but they
were guaranteed to be empty of anything living.

There was also, just outside the borders of the royal city, north of the Bifrost, a patch of ancient
forest. And if one were to walk through that forest, through paths that were so rarely used that they
looked nearly invisible, they would eventually find themselves going up until they ended up on a
grassy lookout point. It was high enough and distant enough that no one could see you if you were
up there, and it was almost always sunny with a bit of a nice breeze.

Harry had discovered this place, while flying around as a raven, a pretty little outlook that allowed
anyone to see the entire beautiful vista of Asgard while also offering a measure of privacy. He
rather liked this spot, it was very peaceful and calming. There was no better place to go if one was
upset and wanted to work that out by themselves than there. Harry would often fly up there during
the night, if he had a nightmare, to look out at the warm golden city that had stolen his heart.

Today Harry had gone up here to do some thinking. It was his 18 th birthday, and by his annual
request, there wasn’t going to be a large feast for him to celebrate. His grandfather was working
hard on trying to convince him to let them celebrate the Aesir way, but Harry didn’t want to
celebrate it with every single person in Asgard as well as 50 major delegates from other planets. He
just wanted to spend it with his family and friends. So there was going to be a small party on earth
today, at his parents’ home in Godric’s Hollow, which they had spent the last year refurbishing and
putting back together again.

He knew there would be a feast in Asgard sometime this week, his family might think they were
sneaky, but they weren’t. The feast would appear not to have anything at all to do with him, but
he’d still end up laden with gifts and having people tell him congratulations so it was pretty
obvious what the feast was for. Still he appreciated that they at least tried to be subtle about it and
let him have the day of his birthday for himself.

Harry sighed and settled his chin on his knee.

He lifted up his right hand and looked at the tattoo that had been emblazoned on there for over two
years. It was still incredibly bright and crisp, nothing Harry had gotten up to since he’d gotten it,
had caused it to fade. He traced the berkanan node with his eyes, it’s shape and meaning familiar to
him. Hope and wisdom. Ron had given him so much hope through the years, hope for friendship
especially. Ron was the one who gave him the guts and the tools to go and confront his dad. His
friend had if anything become more hopeful since the ending of the war, looking to the future with
what was best called happiness.

Next there was the laguz. Harry smiled, the twisted node that connected to both his and Ron’s,
those lines represented the person who always, always, knew. Hermione’s quest for knowledge and
the truth had only grown more rabid after the war ended. She no longer had to put aside her
curiosity to help Harry and Ron keep their heads. Instead she was free to go down and study
whatever rabbit hole she wanted, egged on by both Tony and Bruce. He and Ron had happily been
relegated to ‘make sure she eats twice a day’ duty.

He sighed and leaned back until he landed softly on his back, looking up at the blue sky above
him.

We’re all equal partners in this. Together we are at our strongest. I’m the brains, you’re the brawn
and Ron’s the heart. Together we make one round, never ending and in balance.

Equal. Yeah. That’s what they were, right? But for how long? Harry had already begun to notice
that they were drifting apart. Not emotionally no, but physically. It had only been around 18
months since the final battle and Harry becoming a god. His aging had naturally slowed to what
appeared to be a complete stop that day. They weren’t even sure if he was going to age much at all
and they wouldn’t know for centuries yet.

But his friends were aging.

They were all eighteen today, but Harry looked younger. Right now, it wasn’t terribly noticeable,
just a few small things, but what about a year from now? Or five? Or ten? Or twenty? Harry was
going to be stuck looking the exact same while everyone on earth would age. His friends would
look like adults long before Harry ever would. They’d get married and have children and soon their
children would look Harry’s age and then they’d look older and Harry wouldn’t have aged a day.

His best friends were going to look old enough to be his parents soon it felt like. His mother looked
closer to his own age than they would. Harry’s heart ached at the thought. He knew his friends
would still want to be there for him, that was clear, but they were going to go places that he
couldn’t follow. He screwed his eyes shut at the thought. Eventually they would be parted and
Harry would be left with nothing but the mark on his wrist to remember them by.

He hadn’t talked to anyone about this. He didn’t really know how to express that he was mourning
something that wouldn’t happen for decades yet. It had only hit him so hard this morning because
Thor had mentioned how quaint it was that humans celebrated their birthday every year instead of
every century at breakfast and Harry had felt like the breath had been punched out of him.

“Mate?”

Harry jumped up a bit surprised to see Ron and Hermione both looking down at him from two
brooms.

“What are you doing here?” Harry asked. “I thought…thought we’d meet up on earth?”

“Your mum picked us up.” Hermione said. “She thought you might need to talk?”

“I’m fine.”

“Is this the one where you’re actually fine or are you just saying that?” Ron asked as he landed on
the grass next to Harry. Harry rolled his eyes as both of his friends settled down onto the grass next
to him.

“I’ve just got some stuff on my mind.” Harry said. “I promise I’m okay, I don’t want to talk about
it right now. Please.”

“Alright.” Hermione said. “We do have something we want to talk to you about.”

“Really?” Harry asked sitting up so that he was planted on his elbows. Both of his friends looked a
bit nervous all of sudden. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s not wrong.” Ron said, shifting a bit. “It’s just me and Hermione were thinking. You know
you’re leaving to go to Alfheim for a year to study with the elves right?”

“Uhm yeah.”

He would still be able to visit his friends and family but he would be essentially studying abroad on
another planet for a full year to learn about enchanting. He was leaving in about a month.

“Well…” Hermione said. “We were thinking it might be nice to go with you?”

Harry had wanted to extend the invitation to go to Alfheim with him to his friends before, he
thought it might be nice for all three of them to go and learn magic together after graduation. But
there had been a few issues with that. The elves didn’t want to teach anyone their magic who was
mortal, they felt that sort of power would be used poorly by people who weren’t going to live long
enough to bear the consequences of whatever they magic up with it. That and mortal bodies
couldn’t handle the amount of magic that elves threw around on a daily basis, it would make them
sick. Plus, Hermione was looking to go to university too and Ron himself was thinking of doing
some sort of a gap year where he explored different parts of the magical world before deciding on a
career.

He’d thought that this would be where they parted ways for a year, keeping in contact with letters
and magical calls as they began to learn how to be on their own.

“Oh.” Harry said. “I mean, you both know the elves don’t want to teach humans-”

“They don’t want to teach mortals.” Ron corrected. “And there’s an easy fix to that one.”

“What?” Harry demanded sitting up fully, both of his friends smiled and reached into their pockets
to remove two familiar looking apples. “What?”

“We talked to Idunn about it.” Hermione said.

“And Odin.” Ron added.

“And Frigga.”

“And your parents.”

“And our parents.”

“We didn’t want to leave you alone.” Ron said. “We wanted to be with you. And since we have our
shield brother bond, we can. It makes us as good as family to Asgard and Odin was willing to let us
have an apple each.”

“But…but…” Harry said. “What about your families? You’ll leave them behind!”
“You’re our family too.” Hermione insisted. “That’s why it took us over a year to decide if this is
what we wanted Harry. Me and Ron have been thinking about this since your parents’ wedding, if
not longer.”

“I don’t understand.” Harry admitted, feeling something warm and goopy begin to rise up from his
stomach. “You can’t…”

“We can.” Ron said seriously. “I talked to every single one of my siblings and my parents about
this, one on one. They all accepted what I wanted. I’m going to miss them all so much but mate, I’d
miss you more. I know thanks to your mum that my family will be fine when they move on, we’ll
be apart sure, but they’ll be happy together and they’ll be able to watch over me. I can’t say the
same for you. You’d be on your own getting into trouble all the time.”

“The point of our marks was to make sure you’d never be on your own.” Hermione added, lifting
up her hand to showcase her own mark. “I talked to my parents too and they understand me and
this. I’ll miss them Harry, and they’ll miss me but this is the right choice.”

Harry told himself not to cry.

“I can’t ask you to do that.” He said.

“Good thing you aren’t.” Ron said, lifting his apple up to the light. “We made this choice
ourselves, you didn’t even know we were doing it.”

“But guys.” Harry said. “This isn’t just a few decades, I’m going to live forever. Until time stops
existing unless I turn evil, you can’t possibly-”

“That’s exactly what we mean Harry.” Hermione said gently. “It’s not going to be such a huge
sacrifice Harry. I’m going to have all of time to learn everything there is to know.”

“And I’m going to have endless adventures with you two.” Ron added grinning. “There’s a
limitless amount of alien foods I’ll get to try to eat and so much more. I don’t know what sorts of
things I want to do with my life yet, but I’ll figure it out and if I get bored with that, I’ll pick
something new.”

“This isn’t something you can undo.” Harry warned. “It’ll be permanent.”

“Harry. We know.” Ron said with a snort. “We’ve been thinking about this and debating it for over
a year now! Do you think we would have gotten this far if we hadn’t considered that maybe
turning ourselves immortal might be permanent?”

“We want this.” She said. “We really, really do. It’s okay Harry.”

Harry sniffled and quickly rubbed his face with his wrist to clean up the tears.

“That’s not fair.” He said. “You’re not supposed to make me cry, it’s my birthday.”

His friends laughed at him, Ron pulling him into a quick side hug. When Harry had managed to
compose himself, he looked back up to see that his friends were still holding the apples.

“Oh, go on then.” He said. “It’s obvious I can’t stop you.”

“Finally.” Hermione said. “You’re starting to see some sense.”

“Thought he’d never figure it out.” Ron joked.

 Then both of his friends lifted up their apples and they ate. It didn’t take long for them to eat the
entire thing, core and all, licking their fingers cleans as they did so. Harry watched as the soul
magic took hold, his senses nearly singing with it. When they finished his friends, both began to
glow a bit, they swayed and leaned against Harry for support until the overwhelming sensations
stopped. The apple had never been designed to make a big show of the transformation, it was
meant to do its job simply and quickly. And so, Harry found that within a few minutes he now had
two immortal best friends flanking him on either side.

The sun shone down on their group of three, warming the tops of their heads and their shoulders.
There was a breeze just light enough to tickle their skin.

“You sure you’re not going to regret it?” Harry found himself asking, the last struggling bits of his
insecurities thrashing out one last time.

“We’re sure.” Hermione said.

“Yeah mate. You’re not getting rid of us.”

“Oh.” Harry said. “That’s good.”

All three of them settled again, comfortable in the grass, in the little private space Harry had found
for himself. They settled there in the air that smelt like flowers, right next to each other shoulder to
shoulder. They settled there and all three of them greeted the new world they’d created for
themselves together. They settled and they found there was nothing much to say in the silence of
the moment.

Soon they would have to go back down into the city proper. Soon there would a small party on
earth and congratulations all around. Soon things would begin to change and the worlds they
visited would turn and grow. There would be danger and adventure in spades for the three of them,
more than 100 lifetimes worth for them to explore and enjoy. Soon there would be more happy
announcements to celebrate and more joyous memories to record. There would be trials soon, evil
would rise again, and it was Harry’s duty to meet it. But now it was not a duty he carried alone.

All of that would happen soon enough. But for now, there was time to settle and to be. So that is
what they did. They rested for a moment, reveling in the knowledge that they were together. A
complete unit made of three equally important parts. Eventually Harry’s back began to feel a bit
sore and he sighed, he pulled himself up and then held out a hand to both of his friends, pulling
them up with an easy heave.

“Alright.” Harry said. “Let’s go.”

His friends smiled at him, bright and happy. They both picked up their brooms and Harry let
himself shift into a raven and together, they went.

Chapter End Notes

And that's it! Keep an eye out for a sequel sometime in the future. It probably won't be
for a while, since I've got school and things to focus on but when I start writing it, I'll
post another chapter to let you know so keep your subscriptions to this story!
Thank you so much for the support of this story! Your comments each week have
brightened my days and kept me afloat as I struggled through grad school <3
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