Chapter Text
Professor Snap half-dragged Loki into the lobby of Dumbledore's office by them of his polo under his robes. The god let himself be dragged, feigning confusion and fear. It would not do to rouse suspicion from his house head no less.
Snape forced Loki to face him. Loki tried not to grin and look directly at his eyes. He instead stared at the sleeping sorting hat by the table in the far corner.
"What did you do?" Snape demanded, leaning down to Loki's eye level, and then spat, "child."
Child. Ha!
Loki flinched. "I… I don't know."
He wasn't lying. Not really. He truly didn't know why Dumbledore would call for him. Surely not because of that Arresto Momentum spell. That would be childish.
Snape straightened himself and gave Loki a warning glare. He took a few deep breaths to calm the sudden rage. Had the professor really thought, Loki did some mischief.
It was just the second day of class. Loki would give Hogwarts a good few weeks before he unleashed hell.
"Whatever you did that merited this sudden call from the headmaster is now out of my hands," Snape said, a hand massaging his aching temples. "You are alone even in this world, Loki, if you do not try to confide in others."
Snape whirled and walked to leave.
Alone, Loki reassured himself. Alone was his nature. Alone was where he preferred to be.
Before Loki could approach the stairway towards the headmaster's office, a tingling sensation travelled from the bottom of his spine towards the top of his head so fast Loki cursed. The god shot a glare back at the professor who stood by the exit.
"What was that?" Loki asked, schooling his expression into a too perfect look of shock.
Snape shrugged. "A failed attempt at Legilimens."
Loki didn't know what Legilimens was nor did he care. The pain lingered, however, and he couldn't break his glare off the teacher's back until he disappeared into the darkened corridor.
Loki was left alone, about to face the headmaster. He was familiar with this feeling. He had been a real child once, and he'd face the Alfather time and time again. But that was when the lies had made the greatest facade of all. It was different now. Now, he could flick a finger and Dumbledore would drop dead before his feet.
The headache from the Legilimens throbbed harder.
He stepped into the stairway. It ascended like an escalator, except the lack of electricity did no harm to Mother Nature.
Dumbledore's office was as dusty as Thor's private Chambers in Asgard, as messy as Tony's basement laboratory in London. Uncared books were littered everywhere, empty bottles of ink, feather parchments, and stacks of paper. Had the old man only considered the use of a laptop…? Loki guessed the whole point of witchcraft and wizardry would be lost in that.
The headmaster was feeding his pet phoenix by the front desk. How tacky. Of course, Dumbledore had a phoenix. Why didn't he have a Wendigo instead?
"You called for me, professor?" Loki said aloud.
The headmaster flinched, as if surprised at the god's little voice. The bits of food from the can he's holding spilled over. "Hello, Loki."
Loki waved and smiled, just as how those penguins away from the land of ice and snow told him in that movie Steve loved so much.
Dumbledore beckoned him to come over. He gave the can of food to Loki. "Can you feed Fawkes for a moment? I have to search for something."
Loki did as he was told. He picked a bit with two fingers and offered it to the bird. "What are these?"
Dumbledore was already skimming through his boxes. "Dried corn. He likes it."
The bird didn't seem like he was enjoying himself. Phoenixes were majestic, creatures of rarity and legend. Dried corn were just beneath them.
When he was sure Dumbledore was not looking, Loki turned the bits of corn into strawberries of the same size. They were soft between his fingers, sure, but fresh fruits seemed more appropriate.
Fawkes squawked gleefully.
Strawberries just happened to be Thor's favorite. His other hand unconsciously played with the pendant on around his neck.
No, he most definitely not miss his brother, who was probably two and a half realms away.
"He's a phoenix," Dumbledore said. He now held a small box on the crook of his elbow.
Loki raised an eyebrow. "I know, professor."
Dumbledore gave him a knowing look and smile. "I know that you do. That is why I called you here."
When Dumbledore tried to peek at the can, Loki quickly turned them back into corn. Still, Dumbledore chuckled.
Loki followed his movements with suspicious eyes.
"What do you mean?" Loki said slowly.
"I've called you here to remind you that you know, Dumbledore said, "You've forgotten a lot, Loki."
The headmaster gave the box in exchange of the can. Loki half-snatched it from him, but as soon as the pads of fingers touched it, another bolt jolted through his mind. This time Loki knew what the bolt was, and Loki knew what was inside the box.
His grip on the box tightened. The box crumpled. "The depressing spell," Loki said under his breath. He remembered it, this spell. Not that he had entirely forgotten it. It just didn't cross his mind for quite some time. It didn't seem relevant until now.
The spell, or curse if Loki wanted to be technical, quite literally depressed the mind. It forbid Loki's mind from recalling certain events, certain emotions. The Alfather made sure that there was no lifting the curse up. There was no cure, no nothing.
What had Odin made him forget? What had Loki forgotten that Odin elected the help of old, old man?
Of course, Loki was ten folds older, but that was beside the point.
Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, that contributed something. Though, that is not all."
It is I. I am at fault, and I loved it.
Loki's jaw clenched, and he ran a hand through his then-perfectly styled hair. His shoulders tensed. "Why am I here?" he seethed.
There was a flicker of something in the headmaster's eyes. It was gone before Loki could learn what it was.
"Why did I receive an invitation?" he asked, his voice was calm but was bordering on raged. "Why am I here?"
Loki was feeling angry again, the familiar rapid beating of his heart, and the swelling in his guts. Though Odin's spell reduced the feeling, he let himself bathe in it.
Dumbledore paced. Loki did not fail to notice the table between them, acting a shield, a barrier in case the god erupted.
"Your father came to me," Dumbledore said, then. "He told me that there is a child in Manhattan who is seeking for contrition. A child that could help us."
Loki scoffed, the anger dissipating. "Which father."
The head master stopped. Both Loki's and Fawkes's eyes were on him.
"You only have one father, Loki."
"I hope his name does not start with Anthony and end with Stark. I also hope my mother's name does not start with Steve."
Loki's joke humored no one but him.
Dumbledore continued, "Your father also gave you that."
There was a "for emergencies" written in thick and bold Asgardian script. The handwriting was too carefully done to be Thor's. In it - Loki didn't have to open the box to know - was a golden apple. It was what kept their youth and beauty. Loki had not eaten a single bite for decades. Why would he eat now?
Truly, Odin's ways moved more mysteriously than love's.
"I don't trust you," Loki said plainly. Loki hardly trusted anybody, anyway.
"Before you leave, Loki," the headmaster said, "do you have something to tell me?"
No, Loki wanted to say, because you were the one who called me, dimwit. He grinned maniacally and, aloud, he said, "Do you know who I am?"
"Your father did not have to tell me."
He's wrong, Dumbledore. You are no god.
"I see." Loki's chin raised.
"Anything else?"
"No, professor. You may have this back."
Loki placed the box gently on the table before him. He smiled at the phoenix and whispered something.
The god left with a promise never to come in here again.
When Dumbledore opened the box, he was surprised to see not a golden apple but a clump of strawberries. Fawkes flapped his wings in delight.
A/N: Yay for update. Sorry for the loooooong wait. How was it? Please read and review. :)