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Chapter Text

The summer of nineteen ninety-four was different from all others. They didn’t go on holiday to Europe, or reverse the brainwashing of highly-trained assassins, or get introduced to another hidden world.

Vali was still adjusting to becoming a werewolf, and it truly was an ordeal. His strength increased with his emotions – and those were volatile. His mood-swings didn’t help, and more than once, Vali had to leave the flat suddenly to go burn off steam, stating he ‘didn’t want Eisa to see that’. James joined him, more often than not, and Loki did too, sometimes, when it was James that was the problem. Each and every time, Orion went – Sirius didn’t leave his godsons side, only staying away when he was in the bathroom or changing.

Eisa didn’t understand. She thought being a werewolf was ‘cool’ and ‘awesome’, too young to see how it hurt Vali. She’d run her hands over his fuzzy head and his scars, ignoring how Vali flinched as she touched the tender silver scar-tissue. Loki tried to keep her away, but she was entering a clingy stage, latching onto her brother despite how he avoided her like the plague, not wanting to accidentally hurt her more than he hurt himself.

Loki had never regretted owning silver cutlery more.

When it was full moon, Vali would take Wolfsbane, a potion that gave him his mind during his transformation, and then Loki would transport them to a remote location within Britain, so he could turn and then spend his night either bounding through field and forest, or curled up in a dry patch to sleep – and whether it was the first or second, Orion would stay with him, no matter what. It was what he became an animagus for, after all.

A bright spot was the fact that they finally got a puppy.

He was an excitable little beast by the name of Admiral – a panting Golden Retriever, with floppy ears that liked to hang around Loki, when Vali wasn’t taking him out on walks and run-arounds at the park. Loki found him amusing, though it was quite a hassle to find that Eisa was mildly allergic to his fur, after she complained of itching week in week out, for the entire summer. When they did find out, Loki quickly made it a rule that Admiral wasn’t allowed on sofas that didn’t have a blanket over them, and that he wasn’t allowed in beds or on any other piece of furniture. James groused at how Marcia was allowed, but then Loki reminded him that Marcia was in fact a cat, a wild animal that decided to make her home in theirs, and she couldn’t actually control her.

Vali became a little happier after his arrival though, so James didn’t argue much further. Loki watched as he trained Admiral to do tricks, watched as he forgot for a while around him…And so she wrote a letter.

Lady Loki

I wholeheartedly agree with your idea. Professor McGonagall too, believes it would be beneficial for him to have a companion. ‘Admiral’ will be welcome in Hogwarts, and the house-elves have been informed, so that he will be provided with the sufficient dietary requirements for a creature of his species.

I know your son must be going through many other pains and sufferings though, which cannot heal by ignoring them, which is why I had already made arrangements for Remus Lupin to stay on at Hogwarts as a live-in counsellor. Remus has confided that he has been corresponding with Mr Potter, sending letters since their dual departures from Hogwarts.

The Minister of Magic and the Board of Governors have all agreed that the creation of a post for the position of Counsellor has sufficient merit, and while none are aware I have hired Mr Lupin for said post, I am sure that by now Mr Potter has been informed. Remus is currently attending a ‘crash-course’ so he might fulfil the requirements for his position, but the mind healers of St Mungos have, however, still laid out Clauses and Rules of Discretion. I am informing you that your son will be attending sessions with Remus, but that is as much as you may be told, unless Mr Potter gives consent. I am sure you already respect his privacy, but I still find parents of your calibre who worry tremendously about their child’s mental well-being, so this is both my official and unofficial warning, my Lady, for you to not interfere with the discussions between your son and Mr Lupin.

Dearest regards,

Albus P.W.B. Dumbledore,
Headmaster of Hogwarts School W.W.

“Blaise, what’s the Triwizard Tournament?” Vali asked as the meal started, the hall immediately becoming a cacophony of noise. Blaise Zabini had been Vali’s friend since first year, when they first properly met in Slytherin common room, though it wasn’t a friendship like the one Vali had with most others in Hogwarts. Blaise, unlike, for example, Justin – Justin Finch-Fletchley – wasn’t someone you could just approach in a corridor or classroom at random. Vali knew that Blaise was not his friend – Blaise didn’t have friend. He had allies, and Vali knew he was one. And that was why he trusted him – because Blaise? He stabbed people in the back daily, and never ever had the Italian boy betrayed him.

Calmly spearing a piece of gammon, Blaise explained, “The Triwizard Tournament dates back to the time of the Four Founders. It is infamous for being highly dangerous, and insanely competitive. Many Champions of the three schools that compete – Hogwarts School, Durmstrang Institute and Beauxbatons Academy – have been assassinated in the past, well before they completed the Three Trials. A noteworthy mention though is the fact that the Goblet of Fire, the Tournaments way of choosing Champions, accepts those of the age thirteen and above, so unless Professor Dumbledore has found a way to stop those with papers that hold a name and school not of their own from placing their papers inside said Goblet, the age-line he will most likely place around the Goblet will be useless.”

“Right,” Vali muttered, frowning, before glancing down at Admiral beneath the table, who was eating what looked to be roast with sauce on a shiny silver tray. “Is it restricted to humans?”

“No. The Triwizard Tournament of twelve hundred and eighty-three notably included a full-blooded Veela from Durmstrang Institute, and a banshee from Hogwarts School. Also, more than twelve of the previous Champions have been werewolves, if that’s what you’re trying to get at. With your status as the Boy-Who-Lived, and the amount of Death Eaters running around lately, I can understand your paranoia.”

“It’s not paranoia if they are out to get you,” Vali wisely stated, before digging into his steak, grimacing at both how it was cooked thoroughly and how he even found that disappointing. Digging into the unappetising steak, Vali looked over the table to where Tracey and Daphne sat, chatting quietly. “Daph? Trace?”

“Yep?” Tracey grinned, “Hi, by the way. How was your summer?”

“I got a new dog,” he noted mildly.

“We saw,” Daphne drawled. “And we will be stealing him in the future.”

“I figured,” Vali nodded, before tempering himself, “How goes the investigation?” Immediately Daphne’s face went blank, and Tracey started digging through her pockets. “I know that everyone put off the attack on the Quidditch World Cup as a drunken escapade-”

“Because in a way it was,” Daphne interrupted, sipping her pumpkin juice. “I talked to Draco. His father was among those dressed up. None of them cast that Dark Mark into the sky. They were rioting for fun. The Dark Mark was a reaction from one of their old compatriots – a negative one, if Theodore Nott Senior is to be trusted on these matters. Seeing as Lucius Malfoy seemed to have the same opinion, I would believe it. Crabbe and Goyle said their fathers went into hiding, briefly, before they returned.”

Vali furrowed his brow, “So the person who cast the Dark Mark-”

“No-one knows who it is,” Tracey shook her head, before handing over a scroll. “But read this. It’s a correspondence I intercepted from a house-elf to her old master, asking to return to his service.”

Vali unrolled the scroll, hand going up to adjust his glasses at the messy writing, only to brush over his ear due to the lack of frames. Grimacing at the reminder of his new physiology, Vali glanced at Tracey again, inwardly dreading when he would have to get back on a broom for Seeker Training at Quidditch practice. He’d been Slytherin’s Seeker since his second year, and he was very good – it was a miracle he hadn’t been kicked off the team yet for being a werewolf. It was common knowledge. But Vali was nervous for practice, because if he stayed he’d have to reassess his skills in the air, everything fluctuating with his new depth perception and similar changes.

“The master?” He questioned, pulling himself from his own thoughts.

“Bartemius Crouch Senior, Head of the DIMC, former Head of the DMLE. Once upon a time, before his sons arrest – Barty Crouch Junior – he might have been Minister of Magic. Read it,” she reiterated. Vali looked back to the scroll, trying to decipher the childlike scrawl, much similar to Eisa’s before she properly learnt her letters.

Master…Bartemius Crouch…Winky would love…to be…to be part of Sir’s house- household? Again…Winky has not told Master’s…secrets. Secrets safe. A ‘Y’ scribbled out. The secret is safe. The safe- safety is not…composed? Maybe she meant compromised. The safety is not compromised. Your loyal…servant, Winky.

“Do you see it?” Tracey asked.

“If you mean the butchered language that means she’s trying not to talk about someone or something, rather than simply secrets? Got it. What do you think? And why are you showing me this?”

Daphne took the scroll back from him, giving it to Tracey. “Ronald Weasley, his family sans the matriarch, Dean Thomas and Neville Longbottom were in the Top Box during the Quidditch World Cup. My chameleons managed to find out that there was a house-elf holding a seat for their master, but he never showed. Draco confirmed.”

“Okay…so I assume this means it was Winky? Barty Crouch’s elf…” Vali served himself some vegetables, knowing the importance of eating his colours even if his werewolf side hated it. “Why did you follow this line of information?”

“I wrote to Sirius Black,” Tracey stated.

Vali choked.

“Pardon?” he rasped, after coughing up a baby carrot.

“I wrote to Sirius Black,” Tracey repeated. “I questioned him on his allegiance and his knowledge of Death Eaters. It’s actually how we have most of the names. He was part of the Order of the Phoenix, the Light-sided anti-Voldemort movement, and he was an Auror to boot. The fact that he had been in Azkaban and knew the names of inmates that I- we, had no idea had been convicted of crimes committed in the name of Voldemort and company, whose families managed to get ‘Dark Lord supporter’ or ‘Dark Lord militant’ scrubbed from the records.”

“But wait,” Vali stopped her, lifting a fork filled with disgustingly healthy veg, “That means he saw something that makes you suspect Crouch.”

“His wife.” Daphne filled in. “She was dying, and he brought her to Azkaban to see his son, a convicted Death Eater. She reportedly died less than a month after the visit-”

“But,” Tracey interrupted excitedly, “Guess what?”

“What?” Vali questioned impatiently.

“Okay, so she goes in, looking like absolute death,” Tracey moved her arms dramatically, before spreading them out sharply, “but then, when she’s on her way out?” She smirked. “The most healthy human being you’d ever see.”

Vali connected the dots quickly.

“Barty Crouch Junior.”

Daphne nodded. “Barty Crouch Junior. Winky was found in the possession of a wand, hidden beneath the Dark Mark, and Crouch was supposedly one of those to go into the bushes to find the person that the Aurors had restrained, blind. We figured that Winky accompanied Junior to the Quidditch game, and he managed to get hold of a wand and cast the Mark – from his character profile, it’s safe to assume that Crouch Senior wouldn’t be so stupid as to let him have a wand, unless he went senile as well as insane when he got his son out of Azkaban.”

Vali looked at the two girls. “You are both such amazingly talented witches, I am rendered incapable of understanding how you did this.”

“Aww, thanks Val,” Tracey grinned, waving him off as Daphne smirked. “It’s all real simple, but it takes patience and a lot of effort, in that order.”

“You are not a very patient person by nature,” Blaise added offhandedly from beside him. Vali gave him the stink-eye, before finishing the last of his vegetables in a rush, wanting to crave treacle tart rather than more steak, but red and bloody. “And Admiral is sniffing my leg. Get him off before I kick him.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” Tracey gasped, before ducking down under the table, “C’mere boy! C’mon! There’s a good boy…” She lifted him up onto her lap, scratching his head as he panted, looking like he was grinning. Daphne cooed, ice persona melting as she was faced with the pup.

Vali rolled his eyes.

“Bye Bran! See you tomorrow!” Loki shook her head at Eisa’s shouting, listening to her quick feet as she ran up the staircase, schoolbag jingling from all the keychains attached to the zippers. “Mummy, guess what I did at school today!” She called as she barrelled through the door, slamming it behind her. “Mummy?”

“Kitchen, my lovely,” she raised her voice a touch, losing the Medical Journal and setting it under her textbook, not really wanting the young girl to see the very graphic front cover. “What did you do today?”

Eisa dropped her bag onto the ground, climbing up onto the stool beside her, pushing Marcia away as the cat came to meow in her face. “Go ‘way, Marcia!” Loki chuckled, before shooing the cat gently. “We did numbers today!”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh,” Eisa nodded, “And we did the stuff you taught me ages ago, but down on paper. It was really difficult, ‘cause the pencil was so wobbly, but I got all my sums right, and Miss Henri gave me a gold star – look!” She pointed at the golden star sticker on her jumper, already peeling. Loki gasped dramatically, leaning down to peer at it.

“Amazing, qiānjīn.” Eisa wrinkled her nose.

“Can’t remember what that means.”

“It’s a term of endearment, like my lovely, or darling, or precious – actually, it is darling,” Loki leaned up slightly, kissing her hair fondly. “My little qiānjīn.”

Eisa giggled. “Are you proud of me for getting a golden star?”

“Always,” Loki nodded vehemently, without pause, “I am always proud of you, Eisa. You’re my daughter – how could I not?”

But at that, Eisa looked down, looking shy, “But I’m not, though. You say that, sometimes, and some girls at school ask if my real mummy hated me.” Loki froze. “Did my real mummy hate me?” Her lip quivered, and Loki made an aborted move to take her hands, but she refrained, pulling them into her chest, not- not knowing what to do. “Mummy?”

“I…I- I don’t know. I don’t know…ex- excuse me.” She half-fell off her seat in her haste to get away, mind whirling, stumbling and running into seemingly every piece of furniture between her kitchen and bedroom. Once she was inside she shut the door, locking it and stepping back, dazed and gasping. Loki couldn’t believe it – how could they say that? Little girls – how could they be so heartless? So cruel?

She looked at the door. And I just left her there. Sad and alone. I’m a terrible mother. But she couldn’t push it from her mind, couldn’t stabilise herself. She couldn’t face Eisa right now, not when she was like this. She’s only five! Only five, and in primary school already, a year earlier than most. Not even because she was in the December-February bracket, but because she was too clever. But to be having these issues…why are little girls so naïve? Why did they have to say that to her?

The worst part was that Loki couldn’t even answer her question. She didn’t know if her real mother hated her or loved her – if she took pride in her or felt ashamed by her, if she cared or disregarded her. Loki didn’t know.

But I could.

She could.

If she went to SHIELD.

I can’t. I can’t though.

She didn’t even know why.

When James came home, he expected the normal – for the TV to be on, for Loki to be making some fantastic dinner that she got off a cooking channel or from another family via Elizabeth. He expected Eisa to run up to him and latch onto him, babbling about her day at school, because she loved school so much more than he had, and somehow she managed to enthral him with stories of her day, the way she described it somehow not at all repetitive or boring at all. He expected Orion to pad over to the sofa and scare Marcia out of his dog-bed under the window beside the radiator, and for Marcia to stalk him until dinner, when she would disappear out of the window, until early in the morning when she would yowl at his bedroom window and he would have to get out of bed to let her in.

Today, when he got home, everything was silent. No TV buzzed, no smells were wafting from the kitchen, Orion didn’t have to scare Marcia from his bed…James’ nerves tingled, and he reached for the knife in his hoodie pocket-

“Daddy?”

James’ head swivelled, eyes latching onto the tiny form of Eisa hiding in her toy-box, eyes red and her nose dribbly.

“Eisa?” He stopped reaching for the knife, walking over and throwing his hat to the sofa, opening the box-lid and crouching down in front of her. “What happened, baby-doll?”

Eisa sniffled, “Did my real mummy hate me?” James immediately felt uneasy, looking around for Loki. Where is she?

“Kiddo, where’s your mom?”

“In her room,” Eisa sniffled again, wiping her nose with the back of her hand, fringe brushing over her eyelids. We have to get her hair cut. “She went in and didn’t come back out ‘gain after I ask-ed her if my real mummy hated me.”

Oh shit. “Eisa, I’m going to go talk to mommy. Do you want to get out of there and watch some cartoons?” Eisa nodded, and James took her out, hugging her tightly before setting her on the floor, switching on the TV and turning the channel to CBeebies.

“No.”

“No?” He glanced at her, itching to go see Loki. “What do you want, then?”

“CBBC. Bran watches CBBC now, so I want- I want to watch it too.”

James glanced at the TV, before going down one channel, to where he knew CBBC was. It changed, going to what looked to be a show about puppets made of…garden pots, held together by string. Eisa was immediately enthralled, so he called it a win and got up, walking to his and Loki’s room.

Breathing in, he knocked quietly, “Lokes?” Less than three seconds later, the door opened, a rock flying into his arms. Automatically his arms came to wrap around her, before he registered her shuttering breaths but the lack of wet-patch on his shirt. “Eisa told me what happened. She’s watching TV right now. Are you okay?”

“I feel awful, James,” she breathed, “I can’t tell her that her mother doesn’t hate her, or that she does. I’m the Goddess of Lies, but that doesn’t let me know when anyone is lying, let alone myself. I earned that title-”

“Babe, you’re getting a bit off-topic,” he interrupted, “Now Eisa’s in there, scared, wondering why her mom is shutting herself away in her room, and it’s not my place to tell her anything at all about her birth mother.”

“I don’t know a thing,” she whispered, “How can I tell her that? And the girls at school, James! Children at her school were asking her that question, like she should know the answer! Should she know the answer? Should I tell her that I took her from the arms of a dead man?”

“Hey- hey,” James tugged her away from his chest, meeting her eyes, “That is not your fault. You probably saved her from a fate worse than death, anyway, if Hydra was after her ass. And you don’t have to tell her, not yet. You ask her who spoke to her like that, and you talk either directly to their parents, or through their teacher.” He hesitated, before slowly speaking. “I was in the system, when I was a kid, sorta. My mom died when I was eight, my dad a year later. I was lucky – the orphanage was nice. It was how I met Steve – he lived next door. I grew up there, and I met a lot of folk who wanted to know where they came from, who wanted to meet their parents. I looked after a girl called Rebecca. She got adopted when I was a teen – she was just a little kid, I was already on my way out, but…she was like my sister. She came back a couple year later looking for me, with her parents, wanting to know what I knew.”

“You’ve never told me this before,” Loki said quietly. James shook his head.

“Not told a lot of people. So, she came back, asked me about herself after asking the nuns and finding out shit. I told Becca her origin story – how her ma came to the doors on a rainy night in May, and I answered. Her ma gave her to me, told me her name was Rebecca, and that her pa was dead in the ground and she don’t have enough money to care for her, that Rebecca was better off with people who could feed her food every day and keep the cold from chilling her dead. Rebecca thanked me, and we kept in contact – I sent letters to her during the War. My Will said she would get my apartment if Steve didn’t go back, and half my savings.”

“Have you looked her up?” Loki asked, hand going to his heart, resting there heavily.

“Yeah. She got married, had two kids and a dog – moved out of my place pretty early on, but kept it, renovated it and rented it out. Her grandkid lives there now, fresh out of Law school…anyway, what I’m trying to say is, you don’t know anything. That’s okay. But there are people who do know, and she should be allowed to know about her parents. You don’t know whether they’re dead or alive, or if they did like or hate her. And that’s what we tell Eisa.”

“We were supposed to visit China this summer,” Loki muttered, pressing her forehead to his chest, eyes shutting. “But with Vali…”

“We can take her over Winter break instead. Vali can stay at Hogwarts if he wants, or he can come with us. Full moon is the night before he goes home for Break, the night after he gets home, and then another night – that’s the seventeenth, eighteenth and nineteenth.” He glanced at the clock, “On a side-note, you forgot to take her to swimming and judo class.”

Loki groaned, “I did. When she remembers, she’s going to be so upset.” There were a few seconds of silence, before she glanced up at him. “James, what do you remember about what you found out about Eisa, during your investigation?” James’ grip on her tightened, muscles tensing.

“Her name was Daisy Johnson. Mother’s name, unknown, father’s name, unknown. Mother’s occupation, unknown, mother’s nationality, Chinese. Father’s occupation, general practitioner, father’s nationality, American. Daisy Johnson was born on July second, nineteen eighty-eight. They lived in an unnamed village in the Hunan Province, in China. Daisy Johnson was born in said village, with her father delivering her. He sent in her birth certificate and other relevant documents to the closest village with a Government Hall.”

“July second…” Loki mused, before squinting, “At the right time of day, she could still be considered to be born on July first, so that’s okay…should we tell her what her real name was?”

“No.” James shook her head. “Not yet. She’s too young to make any sort of mature decision. When she’s older – ten, twelve, older even – sit down and talk everything over with her again, but don’t tell her what her real name is, now. She’s six.”

“I know, I know…” Loki sighed, rubbing the inside of her eyes in an attempt to make herself more alert. “I feel terrible though. If I mess up, it could end up being worse than when I found out I was adopted.”

“Right, Laufey,” James muttered. “You killed him.”

“Yeah. I don’t want Eisa growing up hating me, if I don’t be honest with her now though.”

“You’re her mother. It’s her right to know, but you have the right not to tell her everything. Don’t worry about it. I’ll be right here.” Loki nodded, before taking his hand, grasping it tightly before going through to the living room.

“Eisa?”

Eisa turned the TV off, looking solemn as she stood, brushing dust off her pleated grey school skirt. “Mummy?”

“Sit on the sofa, my darling,” she requested, sitting down on the armchair, James letting go of her hand to fold up the blanket on the sofa so Eisa didn’t have an allergic reaction to the dog hairs on it, dropping down beside her. Loki felt bare without him behind her, but pushed the feeling away, pulling up walls that she hadn’t used consciously in years. “I am going to tell you how I found you, and I would like you to listen, without talking or asking questions. When I am done, only then may you speak. Do you understand, Eisa?”

“Yes Mummy.”

“Good.”

And so Loki told Eisa her origin story.

Chapter Text

“-Durmstrang is Victor Krum!” Cheers reverberated through the hall, whoops and shouting pervading his senses. Wincing at it all, Vali took his noise-cancelling headphones from the waiting Admiral, putting them on, focussing hard on Dumbledore as he next spoke. It was very muffled, but with his werewolf hearing, Vali could still make out what he was saying.

“The Hogwarts Champion…is Cedric Diggory!” Vali nodded happily, knowing his fellow Seeker was more than suitable. Clapping, he looked to Blaise, about to ask for his ten galleons for not being chosen as a Champion, only for Blaise to shake his head, looking straight at the Goblet.

“It’s not gone out. Something’s wrong.”

Feeling a sinking sensation in his stomach, Vali followed his gaze, watching Dumbledore started to wrap up the ceremony, only for the Goblet to flame red, a fourth paper flying out.

“What kind of magic do you need to use to trick such an ancient artefact?” He questioned his ally. Blaise’s eyes darkened.

“Powerful magic. Very powerful magic.”

“Harry Potter.”

Vali shut his eyes.

A few years ago, Charlie Weasley had gotten a letter from his youngest brother, Ron. It wasn’t a first, but getting a letter from Ron only a few days into Hogwarts? That said something. His own letter to Bill saw Ron had written to him too, talking about much the same stuff their brother had written to Charlie about. In his letter he talked about his classes – how hard transfiguration was, how Snape was a terrible teacher – and he talked about his classmates. He’d made good friends with an Irish half-blood by the name of Seamus, and while they fought over Quidditch and ‘football’, he got on with a Dean Thomas too – he was a muggleborn, obviously. Ron was trying to teach him more about Wizarding culture and failing.

Ron also spent a lot of time talking about Hogwarts’ newest celebrity, Harry Potter, or, as he called himself, Vali Sigynson. The name was a blow to Charlie’s poor, dragon-obsessed heart.

His little brother talked about how Vali could do magic easily, with and without a wand, and how his mother, the actual Goddess, not-a-God, actually-a-Goddess-called-Loki, came every weekend to spar with him. Ron was absolutely fascinated with the boy, watching him and wondering. It was almost obsessive, Charlie had noted uncomfortably. Vali snuck out in the mornings to run. Vali ate two breakfasts. Vali only ever struggled in potions. Vali was somehow in Slytherin, yet nice. Vali was friends with a Hufflepuff. Vali liked to jump and drop from the moving staircases and do twisting somersaults. Vali liked to run up walls and somehow latch onto the next floor, hauling himself up. Vali, Vali, Vali.

If Charlie hadn’t been so enthralled by the description of the reincarnation of his baby brother, he would have sent Ron a severely-worded letter about respecting other people’s privacy.

Charlie, growing up, had been a strange child in the eyes of Molly and Arthur Weasley. Clever, very smart, but at the same time quiet. Charlie could remember Mr Diggory coming over when he was little with Cedric, and saying he was just like his father, an odd little chap you’ve got there, Arthur. But Charlie hadn’t been weird, or odd – he was just having trouble living with this reality. Every night, he dreamed of living in the woods with his baby brother, of sitting down for dinner with his two mothers, of facing a wolf in a deep pit. They were so vivid, so realistic – he refused to believe they were dreams, fantasies concocted by his bored mind.

In fact, he was so convinced they were real, that he took Ancient Runes with the express purpose of finding a ritual to summon his mother – and he succeeded, but not in the way he had expected.

Loki appeared to him, yes, but the Loki that appeared wasn’t female, let alone his mother. Loki – Loki the God, not the Goddess – let him explain why he’d summoned him, amused and then frightened by his tale. Loki had expected some devout worshipper, or a naïve mortal who’d stumbled upon the ritual to summon him, not a thirteen year old boy explaining that he had strange dreams where he was the son of Loki and Sigyn, the brother of Vali, and lived in the Deadwood Greene Forest of Asgard with them all.

The God had left, and didn’t return for several months – but when he did, he returned with the answers Charlie had been wanting all his life. My mother called it reincarnation, the God told him. She Saw you, in her Pool of Sight, the son of an alternate me, where I was born a woman. You are here, remembering, for you are destined to reunite with her, though it is up to fate to decide whether it is you or she who will travel through the dimensions.

Charlie thought long and hard on that dilemma – but eventually, he came to the conclusion that he would never find a way before a two thousand year old Goddess. So he focused on what he was good at. Dragons. Care, habits, how to defend himself against them – his OWL and following NEWT in Ancient Runes was a welcome addition to his list of skills. It was one of the reasons – other than the fact that he was great with dragons – which had him working Containment for the Triwizard Tournament.

On his break, he took a walk to the Black Lake, sitting down on the grass and watching the waves crash up against far-off beaches, setting a magical alarm to warn him when to get back to camp. He tilted his head lightly though, at seeing a small figure jogging along the edge at a pace he would have called running, if not for how he was moving. As he got closer, Charlie was able to make out different things – they had black hair, or very dark brown hair, and was wearing a baggy set of trousers and large, loose t-shirt. They were male. A shaggy-haired dog, with light blonde fur ran by his side. There were what Charlie could identify as muggle headphones over his ears, a cord attaching them to a silver, circular thing on his waist.

“Hey,” he raised his arm, waving slightly, as he came near. The boy – probably a Hogwarts student – waved back, coming over and pressing a button on the silver device, pushing the headphones from his ears to drop around his neck. “Charlie.”

“Vali.”

Charlie’s eyes widened.

“Really?” He asked, stock-still. The boy gave him a curious look before nodding. “Huh. I…I thought you’d be…different.” Different was a word for it, alright. Charlie remembered him as a boy with fire-coloured hair and sparkling blue eyes, with dimples and thick lashes, and a grin that could ignite a spark in anyone’s heart.

Vali frowned a little, “Who are you, again?”

“Charlie, Charlie Weasley,” he hesitated, before swallowing and standing up, realising as he did so that Vali was tiny – or maybe he was just large. “My name was Narfi, before though.” Vali’s eyes widened.

“Narfi? But- but how? Were you reincarnated too? How did you know who you were?” He asked, rapid-fire. Charlie grinned, before stepping forward, reaching out and running a hand through his brother’s hair – so different, yet so familiar, that tasted of magic and crackled like electricity in his hand – before gripping his head lightly, leaning over so they were more level.

“Little brother. I missed you.”

Vali’s lip wobbled, “How could you miss me? I- I killed you, Narfi.” Charlie’s grin dropped, as did his hand, putting it on his shoulder, the other matching as he stared into his brother’s eyes.

“You did not kill me, little brother, Odin did that. Fate has been cruel to us both though, lately. I heard what happened from Ron. How are you holding up being a lycanthrope?”

“What happened to you?” Vali instead questioned, avoiding his inquiry, prompting Charlie to push down the left side of his collar, showing a thick red line of scarring. “What-”

“Dragons. I’m a dragon-handler – it’s why I’m here. The Tournament requires three, or rather, four. All are nesting mothers, so you need to be careful, little brother.” Charlie’s hand on his shoulder increased its grip, trying to make the message sink in. “I can’t tell you anything more – my job is on the line now for just telling you that.” A ringing went off in his ear – a five minute warning for the end of his break. “I have to get back to the camp.”

Vali’s hands immediately latched onto his shirt, “No, please-”

“We’ll talk more tonight. I get off at nine. Can you meet me in the kitchens?”

“Yes,” Vali swallowed, nodding, “May I write to mother to tell her you are here? Please, Narfi.”

Charlie’s heartbeat rose, “Ron wrote saying she visits you on weekends. Will she be here on Saturday?” It was Tuesday – that would give him four, five days to prepare.

“She’ll be here, but she can always cancel. She’s done it lots before – sometimes she doesn’t even visit for months, because she’s doing something important. Please, Narfi.” Vali begged. Charlie swallowed uncomfortably.

“Listen, Vali, I’m not all here – I’m still Charlie Weasley, and I’m going to continue to be Charlie Weasley. I have a family, other brothers and a baby sister.” Vali pressed his lips together.

“I’ve got one of those too. Her name’s Eisa.”

“Eisa…” Charlie muttered, before kissing Vali’s head fondly. “I really have to go, bud. But I will see you later, I swear. Don’t bring mother.” He glanced down at the dog by their feet. “You can bring him though.”

“Admiral goes where I go, he would have come anyway.” Vali muttered, before hugging him tightly. Charlie hugged him back, holding back any potential tears. He’d made his peace that he might never find his brother again years ago. Meeting him now only made him happy. “Te iubesc, fratele mai mic-al meu. Păstrați-vă în condiții de siguranță – especially with this Tournament going on.”

“I’ll stay safe. And I love you too, Narfi- Charlie,” Vali said quietly, causing Charlie to blink.

“You speak Romanian?”

“I speak six languages and Romanian is only one of them,” Vali replied, before they parted and he waved. “I’ll see you later.”

“Later,” Charlie promised, waving back before turning towards the forest and jogging towards it, knowing he would get a row from his boss for being late. So much for setting an alarm.

“Vali, you’re awesome. Like, slick, Merlin-level awesome.” The voice was unfamiliar to Loki. Shutting the door to Vali’s training room, Loki stepped inside, slipping her shoes off as she saw the mats all over the ground. It’s a wall-running day. But she could hear springs and immediately tensed. And a trampoline day.

Walking over the mats, Loki briefly shut her eyes as she saw Vali fly up into the air, feet kicking off the wall, causing him to spin backwards in the air at amazing speed. Below, well out of the way if Vali were to suddenly go flying stood a red-haired man, who was staring in awe.

“Man, seriously, this is better than dragons.”

“Well, dragons-” Vali ran up the wall again, without spinning this time, “-are animals. I’m human- well, werewolf,” he started to slow down, controlling his jumps on the trampoline, waving to her briefly, “but I learnt all this as a human. That’s why it’s so impressive. You wouldn’t be able to do this.” Once only bouncing up a couple of metres, Vali jumped to the left, dropping into the pit of foam shapes, waiting a few moments before getting out, the man offering a hand which Vali took. “Mum, meet Charlie Weasley. Charlie, meet mum.”

Loki saw how the man tensed, before turning to face her. She frowned, wondering why he was so apprehensive. “Hello. I do not believe we have met.”

“Yeah, we haven’t, not in this lifetime at least,” the man gave a grim smile, “Thank-you for clearing my brothers, and Ginny, by the way, and helping save her two years ago.”

“It was nothing. She was a child – they were children. No child can be responsible for what happened, on either occasion – that falls on those who know, and can do something.”

“That’s…intelligent.”

“Yes,” Loki eyed him, before looking to Vali, who was sipping water from a water-bottle. “Vali, why did you invite your friend here today?”

“He’s not my friend, mum – he’s Narfi.” Loki’s eyes went wide, head whipping around to look at the man again, reaching out with her magic, tasting his soul. She trembled, eyes stinging. She heard a strangled sob, not realising it was coming from her until his muscled arms wrapped around her, holding her tightly as she clung to his shirt, crying into his shoulder.

“My baby, my Narfi!”

“It’s alright, mother, I’m here, I’m alive, I remember.”

“Narfi, my boy, my baby-”

“Shh, I’m fine, you’ll be fine. I got over it, you don’t have to worry anymore-”

Loki pulled away, “How could you get over Odin making you fight your brother to the death? That’s not something you would able to get over, Narfi Sigynson, I am not over it, and you do not get to tell me that I don’t have to worry! I ran to a different universe to get away from your grandfather, and I have no certain degree of surety he does not know how to follow me! I- I don’t want to ever have to see any of my children dead again.” She shut her eyes, hands going to her face. “I’m sorry. I- I’m just so sorry, Narfi.”

“It’s fine,” Narfi spoke softly, “I’m sorry too. It was my fault that we were in the village. Mama Sigyn said that it was your birthday soon – your two thousandth. I convinced Vali that we didn’t have what we needed at home to make you a gift, and so we didn’t get caught, we’d have to sneak away to the village to get them.” Loki swallowed a lump in her throat, wiping at her eyes.

“You were trying to make me a gift,” she stated dumbly. “You…it wasn’t because you were trapped in our home, or because you felt I treated you wrongly?” Narfi’s eyes became full of fire.

“Never, Mama, you were the best mother, even better than Mama Sigyn sometimes. Never think that you did anything but your best. Vali might not remember, but I do, and because of what Loki did-”

“Loki?” Loki blinked, confused, face twisting. “You have met me in this Universe?”

“He’s like an uncle to me, with how much we keep in contact. He considers you his sister – I met Grandmother once, even,” he admitted, looking wary, “She was very proud of what I’d made of myself, the last time I checked, though she was a bit concerned over how easily a dragon can kill a mortal man.”

“Dragon?” Loki narrowed her eyes, eyes finding a large burn on his right arm, uncovered by his rolled-up sleeve. “Narfi Sigynson! Have you been playing with dragons in this new life of yours?”

Vali snorted. “You’re in for it, Charlie.”

Narfi raised an eyebrow, “And you won’t be? You’re the one that’ll have to go toe to toe with one in less than three weeks.” A noise of bewilderment escaped her. Vali gave Narfi the stink-eye.

“I’ll pay you back for that.”

“Try it,” Narfi challenged, grinning, “I’m a Weasley, remember? I grew up with Fred and George.”

“Then maybe I should ask them for help, then,” Vali smirked, “they know you the best.”

“Why dragons?” Loki questioned pitifully. The boys shrugged, before replying.

“Because they’re awesome.”

Loki despaired.

James rubbed the bridge of his nose, before reading the letter that had appeared in his pocket again, hoping the contents had changed. But no, they hadn’t. I can’t believe my son is facing a dragon. A dragon, really? He sighed, looking through the window to the swimming pool, where Eisa was diving down deep into the water, swimming through hoops. A part of James wanted to join her, but another part of him dreaded going near water, left over from when his arm was still metal, and wasn’t waterproof in the slightest. Sometimes he still felt phantom jolts of electricity in his shoulder, when he thought about it too hard.

“What is it?” Brian asked from beside him. “Taxes? Birthday invitation? Just some bad news?” James shrugged, folding the letter back up and putting it in his pocket. “That bad, eh?”

“Let’s just say that if Vali comes back for Christmas break, he’ll be getting one hell of a training session.”

“You should teach him how to shoot.” It was said so casually, so flippantly, that James had to stare at the man. He knew he worked for a subdivision of SHIELD, but still, he was Bran’s father – little, harmless Bran who cried when Eisa squashed bugs. It seemed his father was made of stronger stuff. “I’m part of my old man’s rifle club. Our family’s been running it for generations, but I don’t have much taste for it. Still a member, ‘course, but I don’t manage it no more. You should go, take him, teach him how to look after a gun. Or better yet, take him paintballing – I’ve heard it’s a lot of fun, but you get awf’y banged up.”

“Why?” James questioned. Brian shrugged.

“Boys need to take their anger out somehow. Your boy’s already in martial arts, got all the skills, but he’s learnt never to use them unless they’re really needed. When a boy gets a rifle? There’s only one purpose for holding it, and that’s to shoot. I’ll get Bethy to give your lady the address, talk it over with her if you’re too much of a pussy.”

“Oi, fucktard, watch what you say to me,” he glared, a few seconds passing before they traded smirks.

Brian sighed, looking forlornly at the No Smoking sign. “What I wouldn’t do for a fag…The kids’ll be out soon though. Don’t have time. You ever smoke, Ås?”

“Once. Stopped though.” James looked back to Eisa, noting Bran in the nearby group edging away from a duo with some nasty looks on their faces. Narrowing his eyes, he banged a fist on the glass, causing the three to look up sharply. Glaring at the boys, he pointed at Bran before pointing at himself. The boys drifted away quickly. Looking back at Brian, the soldier motioned to the exit. “I’ll help Bran out in the changing rooms. He and Eisa have shared baths, it’s not much of a deal right now. Take a break.”

Brian smiled, clapping his shoulder, “It’s appreciated, mate. I’ll repay the favour if you ever take up again.” James shrugged, looking back to Eisa as Brian limped off. A couple of minutes later, the bell sounding end of lessons rang, and the kids all started getting out of the pool. James made his way to the changing rooms with all the other parents, taking the locker-keys from the two kids’ wrists before they jumped in the showers so he could get their stuff out.

A short while afterwards, James was leading the kids outside, looking around for Brian. He soon found him across the road.

“Braddock!” He called, the man looking up and over, grinning at the sight of them. He walked forward, crossing the concrete-

The car came out of nowhere, bowling Brian over and throwing him to the ground, a sick crack echoing loudly throughout the strength. Horns beeped, before the car stopped, the driver getting out. Eisa screamed, and Bran called out for his father – only quick reflexes let him grab Bran’s shirt, hauling the boy up off the ground into his chest, one arm wrapping around him while his other stretched out for Eisa, tugging her to his side, pressing her face to his hip.

“Don’t look, Eisa – someone call nine one- nine nine nine!” He shouted over the rabble who started to crowd around the man, not going over if only for the sake of Bran and Eisa. The driver of the car looked over at him from where he crouched by Brian’s still body.

“M-man, I’m sorry, but he’s dead. I’m so sorry.”

James felt his throat closing up. He was just out for a smoke. “Don’t tell me you’re sorry, tell his son.” The driver’s gaze slipped to the screaming boy, who was struggling half-heartedly in James’ arm. “Call nine nine nine.”

They wouldn’t be going to judo practice today.

“The Hungarian Horntail looks nasty,” Vali muttered. Charlie nodded.

“Spikes on the tail, from half a foot to two and a half feet long. They’ll be chained up, but she’s got enough strength to get out of it, so if you get her, you had better be careful – and don’t tell mother I know that you’ll be facing them. Who knows what she’d do – interfere, most likely, and get your magic taken away.”

“Blaise said it was a magical contract. I told her already. But what happened to ‘I’ll lose my job’?”

“You’re my brother, and while you’ve got some fancy moves, you don’t have the skill to match seventeen year olds. You need all the help you can get.”

“Thanks,” Vali said sarcastically, before his wrist beeped. “That’s me. See you tomorrow?”

“I’m busy, but feel free to make some guesses to what you’ll be doing, and look up the dragons I mentioned.”

“Welsh Green, Chinese Fireball, Hungarian Horntail and Swedish Short-Snout,” Vali listed, getting a nod from Charlie before he slipped out from under the invisibility cloak, “Bye!”

“Bye, Val.” He walked off, leaving Vali standing under the cloak, feeling as if he’d missed something. Turning, Vali made his way back to the castle, knowing Admiral would be worried by now. He glanced up at the moon. Tomorrow. He could already feel it weighing on his bones, a deep, painful ache that caused his ligaments and joints to creak and spark.

Once inside the castle though, Vali turned his attention to the fact that he could now hear Admiral yapping all the way from the Entrance Hall. The boy groaned.

Everyone in Slytherin is going to kill me.

Loki looked at the scene in front of her with knitted brows.

“Elizabeth, I see you’ve met my friend…” the Goddess looked to Sirius, who smiled wanly – and only now did Loki noticed the several bruises over his face, and the bloody nose.

“She knows who I am.”

“I see,” Loki deliberately paused, dropping her handbag onto the armchair, tugging off her scarf. “Elizabeth, what is your view of Sirius right now?”

“Innocent man chucked in jail,” she replied promptly, “Though he deserved the broken nose. I’ve caught him looking at my chest more than once when I thought he was an actual dog.” Elizabeth glared at the convict, who smirked, before the woman rolled her eyes, pushing his shoulder lightly. “Fuck off.”

“Gladly – now Loki’s here, maybe you’ll let me out of your sight,” he said cheerfully, before standing and meandering over to the kitchen. Loki quirked her eyebrow.

“What are you doing?”

“Ice. I don’t have a wand to fix my nose with, and you’ve said before that healing isn’t exactly your speciality.”

Loki, who had been in the process of untying the belt of her jacket, froze.

“…Sirius, what exactly did you tell my dear friend?”

Elizabeth smiled cheerfully at her. “Everything, of course. Now, Lokes, I don’t give a damn that you’re a Goddess. What I do give a fuck about is how the Winter Soldier babysits my son.” Loki stared, feeling a numbing sense of dread. I knew it was too good to be true. Her friendship with Elizabeth was a piece of…normality, a companionship she had lacked throughout her life. She’d never had her own friends – they were always Thor’s friends, or people trying to take advantage of her.

I knew it would never last.

So Loki brought up her armour in front of Elizabeth Braddock for the first time, sneered and raised her chin, purging all emotion from her eyes and body, standing tall and glaring down at her.

“And?” She questioned condescendingly, affecting a disgusted expression upon her features. Elizabeth clenched her jaw, standing.

“The Winter Soldier is an assassin, a Hydra KGB Asset. He is a super-soldier, a ghost, a danger to both Bran and Eisa.”

“James would never hurt Eisa,” Loki dismissed, “and James feels responsible for your son, due to the events of your husband’s death.” Elizabeth flinched immediately, lip quivering.

Sirius, who now had a pack of peas pressed against his cheek, hurried over, “Hey, stop that – and what’s with the face? We’re all friends here, Loki.” Loki felt an urge to furrow her brow, but stopped it. But Elizabeth is hostile…“Oh Merlin, I recognise that expression. Remus used to get it all the time – I’m not even kidding.”

“Remus?” Elizabeth blinked. “Isn’t that Vali’s counsellor?”

“Yes, and the werewolf that bit him,” Loki bit out, internally cursing herself for not having better control of herself. I have not had to act like this since the last time someone visited me in my cell on Asgard. It was already taking its heavy toll on her emotions. “What would this expression be then, mutt? Anger? Annoyance? Disgust?”

“No,” Sirius glared, “Self-loathing. Disbelief. You’re putting your defences up, and I don’t know why, but you don’t need them. Not around us. We’re your friends, Loki.” He motioned to himself and Elizabeth, who nodded. Loki looked between them, feeling confused.

“But, but I am Loki, hated and feared, a monster – I force you to remain in canine form around your own godson,” she swallowed, looking to Elizabeth, “and I do let the Winter Soldier babysit your son. How can you be my…friends, when I-”

“I’m going to stop you right there,” Elizabeth interrupted, stepping forwards, putting her hands on Loki’s shoulders, the shorter woman meeting Loki’s eyes clearly. “Kind. Thoughtful. Loyal. Protective. Teacher. Sister. Mother. Friend – you are and have never been a monster, Loki.”

“But I am,” Loki forced out, feeling small, “I am the monster which hides under children’s beds, the monster that comes in the night and slaughters without thought.”

“Who told you that?”

“My brother, and my father – Thor, Odin.”

Elizabeth growled, grip tightening on her shoulders. “If I ever meet either of them, they are going to meet my pretty little fists.”

“But they speak truth, Elizabeth. I am Jotun, a Frost Giant. I am a savage raised a princess, a beast hiding under Aesir skin.” She pried Elizabeth’s hands from her shoulders, stepping back, forcibly removing the glamour which hid her. “Do you not see?” She raised her blue hands, tribal markings clear in the light of day, smooth ridges that ran all the way over her body. Frost began to coat her clothes, and the wooden floor beneath her feet. “I am a monster. If you touched me, you would freeze to death in seconds. I was borne to monsters, and so I am.”

“No, Loki, no-” Elizabeth started, before Sirius put a hand on her shoulder.

“Loki, no-one is born a monster. It doesn’t work like that,” the wizard stated calmly. “Norse mythology says that Odin led a war against the Frost Giants – and he won. Victors write the history books, Loki, and how long ago was that? They were Odin’s enemies – it’s just like after any war. When I was growing up, I was threatened with the wrath of Morgana, and Circe, and Hecate and Grindelwald, Dark Ladies and Lords. But they couldn’t harm me. It was an empty threat. Your people have had thousands of years to make up grand tales and stories to scare children – most likely, none of them are true.”

Loki grit her teeth, “They did not lie, or tell tall tales. Jotuns are brutal, a culture made of tribal beliefs and magic – magic which Odin took away. The Casket of Winters made them one of the Great Planets, to be feared and worshipped. Odin took it away, and because of it, they still live in the state they did when the war ended. I was abandoned as a babe, for I was a runt – Frost Giants are that, giant, verging on fifteen feet tall at their highest, twelve at their smallest. An average babe is appreciative to their size. I was left to die, and Odin took me in and raised me as Princess of Asgard, to be the future Queen of Jotunheim.”

“Queen?” Elizabeth asked, sounding subdued.

Loki met her eyes.

“I am the daughter of Laufey, former King of Jotunheim. Sirius may have told you what he believes to be everything, but truly, what he knows is nothing.” Loki kept her gaze, before speaking further. “I apologise for never telling you any of this, that Bran may have been in danger-”

“It’s fine,” Elizabeth hushed her, “Just…I was angry at how you kept secrets. I know James would never hurt Bran – he likes to call him his Uncle. Fuck, I’m sorry…” the brunette ran a hand over her face, sniffing before rubbing her eyes, glaring lightly. “Can you turn back so I can hug you?” Loki immediately let the glamour return, rushing forward to hug her friend tightly, burrowing her head in her shoulder.

“I’m sorry-”

“Oh, sweetheart, it’s alright, shh…” Elizabeth kissed the side of her head before squeezing tight. “Now, come on, tell me what’s what. I think you were right about Sirius – he left heaps of things out anyway.”

“Sure,” Loki stepped back, wiping her eyes, before glancing at Sirius. “But I have something to give you first.” Raising her hand, she reached out with her magic, trying to remember where she put it… “There it is,” she murmured, before summoning the wand. Holding it out to him, she watched as he took it cautiously, eyes narrowed.

“Isn’t this Vali’s wand?”

“Yes, but he doesn’t need it,” Loki replied. Sirius gave her a funny look.

“Then what is he using now?”

“A twig.”

A beat.

“A…twig?” Sirius blinked, before slowly starting to grin, “Oh man, that’s priceless. Does he know?”

“Well…” Loki tried to find an excuse for not telling him, “Vali…does…not know…yet. Yet. I’ll tell him, but- why are you laughing?” She looked to Elizabeth, only to find her chuckling a little too. “What’s funny?”

“Can’t really say, but, uh, it’s a little funny that Vali’s doing magic using a stick as a wand rather than an actual wand, when he’s surrounded by witches and wizards all doing magic with real wands.”

Loki thought it over, lip eventually twitching, “Yes, that is partially amusing, I suppose. I don’t think Vali would begrudge you using it though, Sirius,” she motioned to it again, prompting the wizard to shake his head, before nodding, pointing it at his own face.

“Episkey,” there was a sharp crack, before he paused to think, then cast another spell that got rid of the crusted blood in his moustache and beard. “Hey, Lokes?”

“Yes, Sirius?” Loki asked, suspicious of his tone of voice. The Marauder grinned.

“Does this mean that I can be introduced to everyone else now?”

Loki’s lip twisted.

“We’ll see.”

Chapter Text

“Ah, here he is! Champion number four! In you come, Harry, in you come…nothing to worry about, it’s just the wand weighing ceremony, the rest of the judges will be here in a moment-”

“Wand weighing?” Vali frowned, hand tightening around it for a second, before he relaxed his grip. 

“We have to check that your wands are fully functional, no problems, you know, as they’re your most important tools in the tasks ahead,” said Bagman. “The expert’s upstairs now with Dumbledore. And then there’s going to be a little photoshoot. This is Rita Skeeter,” he added, gesturing toward a witch in magenta robes. “She’s doing a small piece on the tournament for the Daily Prophet…”

“Maybe not that small, Ludo,” said Skeeter, her eyes on him. Vali looked back blankly, wondering if – as a reporter – she would mention his ‘furry little problem’, as Remus called it. Maybe she would print the facts out that Blaise had dictated, about the werewolves who had competed in the Triwizard Tournament before. “I wonder if I could have a little word with Harry before we start?” she said to Bagman, still looking at him. “The youngest champion, you know…to add a bit of colour?”

“Certainly!” cried Bagman. “That is, if Harry has no objection?” Vali opened his mouth to answer, aiming to give a diplomatic ‘maybe later, after everything’s over and done with?’ only for Skeeter to speak before he could.

“Lovely,” then she reached out, taking his arm, and- well, if Vali hadn’t been so surprised at her brazenness, he would have punched her in the face. As it was, she managed to tug him half-way across the room before Snape came to his rescue, grabbing his shoulder.

“Miss Skeeter,” Snape demurred, “I believe you need consent from his mother, or his guardian under loco parentis, to interview Mr Potter.”

Skeeter blinked rapidly, before smiling, “I’m sure we can make an exception-”

“No, we can’t.” Snape snapped, before tugging Vali from her grip. “Potter, go stand with Diggory.”

“Yes, sir,” Vali said respectfully, nodding in thanks before heading across to where the Hufflepuff champion stood. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Cedric smiled, “Ever heard of this ‘Wand Weighing’ thing before?”

“No, but I don’t think there’ll be any problems.” It wasn’t as if there was anything wrong with his wand, anyway.

Mother,

I have a problem, or rather, I don’t, and I’m sort of amazing. Someone replaced my wand with a plain stick that looks identical to my wand – they’ve stolen it, in other words – but they must have taken it a long time ago, because I can do magic through it. But I don’t. Because it’s not a wand. So, Dumbledore and Ollivander say that I must be doing wandless magic. If you managed to get a subscription to the Daily Prophet, the paper tomorrow will have my face all over it. Just warning you.

Oh, and you might get a letter from Professor Snape about that. Apparently I’m not allowed to be photographed/interviewed for papers (?) without your consent or his, as loco parentis-something while I’m at Hogwarts.

All my love,

Vali.

“Uncle Remus?”

“Yes, Vali?”

Vali turned on the mat to face his pseudo-uncle. They were in his training room, which had changed to include a running track rather than a wall-running and parkour course. Remus had finally taken up his long-standing offer to join him for some of his training, and now they were both on the ground getting their breath back while watching the sky, which had appeared on the ceiling in a similar fashion to the Great Hall’s enchantments.

“Do you think that more of my brothers and sisters are out there? Will we ever all be together?”

Remus glanced over, frowning lightly. “Shouldn’t these be questions you should be asking your mother, Vali?”

“She won’t answer like I want her to. She’ll go on about how they’re out there, definitely, but only if they died like I and Narfi did, and only if blah blah blah. And she gets upset afterwards.”

“How do you want me to answer?” Remus questioned, turning to face him. Vali played with his wrists, tracing the veins that he could see through his skin. He was still weak from the full moon, just like Remus was. “Vali?” He stayed quiet, and after a short while, Remus spoke again. “I think that your siblings will find you, no matter how. Charlie found you. There’s always hope, Vali. Don’t give up on them. You’re young, limited in a variety of different ways. When you’re older, an adult, you can go search for them yourself.”

“Dad said he’d help me, when I asked him,” Vali muttered. “We’re going to China this Christmas, to try find Eisa’s real parents.”

“This Christmas?” Remus’ brow knitted together, “But what about the Yule Ball? As Champion, you’re required to attend.” Vali head snapped up sharply, eyes blown wide.

“The Yule what?!”

Eisa frowned at her brother’s letter. But I want him to come with me! They were going to go to China! He had to come!

“Mummy!” She shouted, angry, “Vali’s not comin’! I want him to come!”

“Hey,” her new Uncle Sirius spoke sharply, “don’t shout.”

Eisa held up the letter, “But Vali’s not comin’ to China with us!” Uncle Sirius blinked, before sitting up and leaning over, plucking the letter from her fingers, only to screw up his face.

“Loki, Eisa got a letter from Vali in Chinese!”

“It’s called Mandarin, China is a multi-lingual country,” her mum said calmly as she finally made her way over, taking the letter, scanning it. “I’ve received a similar correspondence. As a Champion for this Tournament, he is required to be there to open the ball. Remus is teaching him how to waltz.”

“Remus?” Uncle Sirius snorted, Eisa tilting her head as he grinned, wondering what was funny. But he shook his head, taking the letter back and giving it to her again. Eisa clutched it tightly, looking to her mum.

“Mummy, please get Vali to come with us.”

“I don’t know if it’s possible, my sweet,” her mum said in a tired voice, “Vali has a lot of things to do at school.” Eisa’s lip quivered, but not in upset – in anger. Balling her fists, Eisa stamped her foot.

“I want Vali to come!”

“Do not speak to me in that tone,” her mum glared, “remember your place, Eisa Lokidottr!”

Eisa let out a quiet scream, low in her throat, before she stamped her foot again, “I want Vali!”

“Eisa-”

“I want Vali now!” Eisa shouted, before feeling a burst in her chest, like a bubble popping. She gasped, the feeling spreading outwards-

And then all the glass in the apartment shattered.

Vali

I urge you to send your sister letters regularly. She was very upset at the news you were not coming with us to China, and as such shattered the glass within our home using her magic, unintentionally. Effective immediately, I will not be coming to visit, and Eisa will be out of school until I have judged whether she has enough control over her magic to be around others safely. Due to this, I have purchased a home in the country, only a few hours away from Edinburgh, closer to Ayr and Glasgow. James will be staying in the apartment in the city until the middle of December, to clear up any loose ends pertaining to his occupation as a martial-arts trainer, so if there are any emergencies, he will be there.

When Eisa has regained control of her magic, I will consider moving back into Edinburgh with her, but due to the close proximity of our flat to the Royal Mile, it would not be to where we live. James tried to convince me to buy a suburban-type house, and I agreed that it was perfect for our family, but Eisa needs to be far away from people, lest she hurt them. Unlike your magic, hers is a tempest, uncontrollable. The pure amount of power you possess means you already had a way to hold it. Eisa’s magic, I admit, I encouraged. Because of this, she does not have the natural ability to contain it, and it can act without her command in her ‘defence’.

I must finish now. Eisa is eager to explore our new home.

All the love I can give,

Mother.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

(Postscript: Simply as to not cause any more unintentional accidents, we will still be going to China, but using magic instead of mundane methods. For this reason, I do not believe it would be wise for you to send Hedwig with letters to us after the eighteenth of December. I love you. Stay safe, and do well in the First Task. Good luck.)

“That’s Mermish!” Someone called as soon as he shut the egg. Vali, ears still ringing, glanced up.

“What?”

A sixth year put their hand up, waving it slightly, “That was Mermish. You need to listen to it underwater.”

Vali breathed in, before nodding, glancing around the common room. His House had been surprisingly supportive these past few weeks – he really couldn’t ask for a better House, despite how badly some had treated him in the past. Maybe it’s because I keep winning them the Quidditch House Cup, he thought as a glint of silver reflected from the mantelpiece.

“Thanks,” he nodded to the sixth-year finally. They nodded, shrugging, before a seventh year girl clapped him on the back.

“Off you go then. Use the Prefects bathroom on the fifth floor, fourth door to the left of statue of Boris the Bewildered. Tell us all what it is in the morning.”

“The password?” He questioned. She smirked secretively at him, not answering, and he was reminded of when her sister had removed the cushioning charms on the floor. “Right. Got it.” He’d never really hidden the fact that Blaise was his go-to for things, so headed over to where he sat with Daphne, while Tracey ‘sneakily’ sipped a Firewhiskey opposite them. “Blaise?”

The Italian waved him off, busy with his book, “Pinefresh. Go now, use that silly little cloak of yours, and that map – Filch patrols there often. It’s near his office.”

“Got it. Thanks.” Vali nodded, before heading to his dorm for his towel. Time for a bath, then.

“I heard you were being hounded by meddling cami-ghouls.”

Vali didn’t look up, grumbling as he rubbed the red mark on his wrist, “If by cami-ghouls you mean girls. Seriously, I’m a werewolf, they should know better than to grab me…”

“It’s nice to hear when someone accepts what they really are.”

Vali finally turned his head towards the speaker, and was immediately…enthralled. She wasn’t beautiful, or anything silly like that. Pretty, still growing, with white blonde hair – but what interested Vali was the magic around her. It was everything his mother had ever described, that he had only ever seen out of the corner of his eye. Golden swirls danced around her, flickering out of existence once they got too far away, coming into existence from the golden glow of her necklace. He didn’t know what it was made of – the magic too powerful for him to be able to look at them clearly – but it was damn strong.

“Woah…” he watched as one swirl split off into seven, like the fireworks he saw in Edinburgh on New Years Eve. “Did you make that? What does it do?”

The girl looked at him as if he’d just said something funny, “You’re very open-minded, Vali Sigynson, and apparently very nice. People don’t like me – they like to hide my things from me. They think I’m odd.”

“That’s mean,” her words drew Vali from his thoughts, “I think you’re perfectly fine.”

“You don’t know me at all, though, how could you know?” She asked in a dreamy tone, looking out of the window. “I was going to go down to the kitchens for some pudding. I missed dinner because I was looking for my shoes. I didn’t find them, and I’m hungry now. Would you like to come?”

“Sure, pudding sounds great.” Vali stepped forward, holding his arm like he’d seen his Dad do with his mum. Elizabeth called him old-fashioned, which was true, but Vali didn’t see anything wrong with it. “Here.”

“Thank-you,” the girl took his arm, smiling. “I’m Luna. Luna Lovegood.”

“Vali – Vali Sigynson, but you already knew that.”

She smiled wider, “But an introduction is always very nice. Pudding?”

“Pudding,” Vali confirmed, before leading her towards a tapestry that hid a secret passageway. “Watch.” He tugged the second-to-last tassle, before poking the knight in the corner. His horse reared, before he started galloping across – bringing the tapestry with him. Luna hummed pleasantly.

“I’ll have to remember that. Where does it go?”

“Want to find out for yourself?” He asked, stepping away and bowing, back facing the dark corridor behind him. Luna nodded, before skipping past him merrily, starting to sing an odd-note tune, with lyrics that had Vali laughing as he shut the tapestry behind him.

He had a feeling his mother would like Luna very much, indeed.

Loki nodded as she stood from crouching, walking back over to where James stood with Eisa on his shoulders, Orion by his side.

“She was known as Jiaying. Her husband came to this village to help with the sick, but neither have been seen for years.” Eisa looked slightly confused. “Eisa?”

“Was Jiaying her first or last name?”

Loki hummed, reaching up to take her from James’ shoulders. “I’d presume first. Your father was married to her, so she’s have his last name unless she kept her own, though in China, that would obviously be her ‘first’ name.”

“Mummy, what if we don’t find anything?”

“We’ve still got your old village to visit, sweetcheeks,” James mentioned, “though your mom or I’ll be looking first, in case there’s anything dangerous there.” Eisa nodded, resting her head in Loki’s shoulder.

“’m tired.” She mumbled. “And hot. Can we go to sleep now?”

“Let’s get some food first, sweetie.” She took James’ hand, whistling for Orion, who had been approached by another dog that Loki noted was quite different from the other dogs of the village. It watched them as they left, walking to the edge of the village, before slipping into the forest, Loki smoothly transporting them to their new home, leaving it behind. They’d be returning when they were rested – just because they went home every night didn’t mean they weren’t on vacation – Loki planning to leave Eisa with James in the city, so she could investigate the old village.

“Make something up, would you, James?” She asked, before heading through the house, to the other end, where the living room was located. The floor plan of their new house was completely different from their apartment, and with over six years logged there now, it was strange – even for someone as long-lived as her – to live like they did, but with a new layout. Putting on the television – larger than their one at the flat by two inches, apparently – she switched the channel to CBBC, before dropping down onto the sofa, turning Eisa so she could watch – Eisa could never sleep when she had a TV in front of her. Homework, yes, but TV? No way.

It was disappointing to find out that Eisa’s real father hadn’t stayed around, or at least notified the villages that he wouldn’t be around anymore – they had apparently suffered due to his lack of prior warning. But she had learned more about him by coming to China. The documents he put in – Eisa’s birth certificate, all her legal papers that made her both a Chinese and American citizen, they were all there. She still had that identity. Her father’s name on her birth certificate was Calvin Lewis Johnson, MD, and her mother’s name, Jiaying, was unfortunately just that, a single name. But it worked.

If she ever needs to hide, she can be Daisy Johnson.

“Lokes?” James came into the room, balancing plates on his arms without any visible effort, “We watching…” he squinted at the TV, “Please say that’s not Chucklevision.”

“Tis Chucklevision, my love,” Loki laughed under her breath, before moving Eisa off her lap to sit beside her, James handing them each their plates before setting down beside them.

“I hate Chucklevision,” James groused, eyes glued to the screen as he started on the first of his three sandwiches. Loki finished her own pretty quickly, though Eisa took her time. When she was finished, however, she went straight to sleep.

“I’ll put her to bed,” Loki got up, sending their plates to the kitchen before going out and up the staircase, placing Eisa in her new bed. Crouching down beside her daughter, Loki wondered at it all – all the…domesticity. Elizabeth always said Loki’s life was so structured and perfect, like no problems existed. Loki begged to disagree – her problems were larger in the grand scheme of things, after all – but knew Elizabeth did have a point. She sighed as Eisa coughed in her sleep, stroking her hair, only to freeze very suddenly.

Blood, there’s blood on her pillow, Loki thought numbly. She pulled her hand away, terrified. My magic…what if it was hurting her? What about her own? But no – Vali’s magic didn’t hurt him, and Eisa’s was the same. She pressed a hand to her mouth, shutting her eyes. Every time something goes wrong, it only gets worse, never better.

“I have to help you control your magic,” and Loki couldn’t leave her, even if it was her own magic that was causing problems. If something was happening to her that wasn’t because of magic though…oh Norns, what if it is just something mundane? That would be even worse than her fears, for then she would have to rely on mortal treatments. Loki hit herself on the forehead. “I’m thinking about this too much.” Looking back at Eisa, she leant over, kissing her forehead before remembering she hadn’t brushed her teeth. I can’t wake her now…

Leaving, she made her way back downstairs, passing Orion on his way up to join Eisa, dropping onto James’ lap exhaustedly. “She’s coughing up blood.”

“What?” James asked sharply. “We’ve got to get her to a hospital-”

“We can’t. In any case we need to see if it’s only a one-time thing, and we can’t alarm her. Who knows what she might do, if something’s wrong.”

“Fuck, this is absolutely the wrong time,” James cussed, before wrapping his arms around her tightly. Loki leant into him, pressing her cheek to the side of his head, shutting her eyes. “Can we even afford treatment for that if she’s ill?”

“NHS, my love, the beauty of it is that it is free, unlike your poor American healthcare,” Loki murmured, before kissing him softly. “I don’t want her to be ill, because something’s wrong with her. Then there’s only mundane ways to fix it.”

“You want it to be because of your magic?” James frowned, “How would that help? Then you wouldn’t be able to help her.” Loki cringed.

“No. I wouldn’t. But another magic-user could – Narfi, Charlie, he is a good friend of my alternate self here. He will help.”

“‘He’?” James raised an eyebrow, “Oh, I’ve gotta see that, doll. You as a man…you’re already beautiful, wonder what he’ll be like.” Loki eyed him oddly.

“I did not know you appreciated the male form so much.” James shifted uncomfortably.

“I don’t. I’m not a fag – not that that’s bad!” He saw her hurt expression, “Sorry, I mean, uh…I’m not…I’m not…gay.” Loki didn’t believe him.

“From what I know of the time-period in which you lived, people like me would not have been met with kindly.”

“No,” he replied quietly. “Steve and I-” he cut out quickly, panic filling his expression. “We were just friends! We didn’t do nothing-”

Loki shushed him, putting a finger upon his lips, “You should know that out of anyone, I would not judge you, James. You can trust me to keep any secret you bestow upon me.” James cringed, gripping her tighter. She removed her finger, kissing him lightly, allowing him to clutch her tight, as if she were a security blanket. “Your kind is so judgemental a species,” she whispered against his lips.

“I miss him,” James kissed her again, tugging at her shirt, “I miss him so fucking much.” Loki pulling off her shirt, allowing him to run his hands up her, biting into her shoulder viciously. Loki grunted, before tugging at his own shirt, which he ripped off, losing control as he rolled them over, topping her. “I just want him back, I just want Steve.”

It was a side she’d never seen before. Loki knew the James who her children called daddy, who ran with Orion in the rain and made apple pie and roast every Sunday. Loki knew the James who kept a gun between their mattress and their headboard, and had a knife hidden at his ankle when it wasn’t tucked into his wrist-band. Loki didn’t know this James – the James who forced back tears and prayed for Steve rather than her, who gripped her like she was both unbreakable and a fragile flower.

Later, when they were lying there together, James asleep on her lap as she stroked his hair, Loki wondered if he would leave her once the dear Captain was found.

It wasn’t a nice thought.

Mother,

The Yule Ball went well. Luna and I had a lot of fun – we didn’t stay the entire time though. Luna’s younger than me, and she spends a lot of time searching for the stuff other people steal from her, so we walked around for a bit before going back to our common rooms. How is China? Did you find out anything about Eisa’s birth-parents? Is she having fun?

All my love,

Vali.

“Mum, can we get a puppy?”

“We just got Admiral last year-”

“But Vali stole him! I want to have my own puppy!” Loki felt a rumbling underfoot and focused all her attention on Eisa, turning off the hob.

“Eisa, if we got another dog, would you look after it?” She questioned, feeling the rumbling calm slightly but not yet disappear, “Would you go walk it with Daddy every day, twice a day, and feed it? Would you give it baths and love it?”

Eisa nodded her head frantically, grinning wide. The vibrations increased, and the Goddess could both see and hear the plates and bowls clinking against each other.

“I would, I would! Please mummy!”

“I’ll think about it, but maybe yes.”

Eisa jumped up, hugging her tightly, “Thank-you mum!” Loki hugged her back, before letting go, watching as she ran off, the rumbling stopping. Loki pursed her lips, before banishing the boiling water to the sink, the pan to the cupboard. Summoning her mobile, she texted James. Pick up something for dinner. He replied with a question. What do you want me to get? Loki licked her lips. Nearly had an accident with Eisa. Just get something simple, or something already hot. He replied with an affirmative, before Loki put her phone away, heading through the house to the living room, where Eisa was playing with two Barbie dolls.

“-going to do, Aunty ‘lisbeth?” Eisa said in a low voice, before switching to a higher voice, “Well Mummy, Bran said he wanted a cat, so I gave him a cat! But Aunty Lisbeth, Eisa wants a puppy! Well then you’ve got to give her a puppy! Sigh. I’ll have ta give her a puppy, then.”

Loki raised an eyebrow amusedly, “Is this what you do when I’m not looking?” Eisa looked up sharply, cheeks going pink. “It’s time to practice controlling your magic, qiānjīn.”

“Really?” Eisa put down her Barbie’s, scrambling over to her, grabbing the end of her button-up. “Where are we going to practice?”

“Outside, in the field. Go get your boots on, and your jacket.”

“Yes mummy,” Eisa ran off, slipping past her. Loki turned, following her, grabbing her jacket and a picnic blanket, before pulling on her boots. Eisa was thrumming with excitement, and Loki could tell that this was going to be a day of potential mess, as the grandfather clock in the hall started to shake, soft clanging noises from its inside audible even to Eisa. “Why’s the clock like that?”

“Let’s get outside,” Loki instead hushed, opening the front door and letting her out, ushering her towards the middle of the field. Once there, she set out the picnic blanket, sitting down with her legs crossed, banishing the little mud and damp that had accumulated on her boots and on Eisa’s on their short journey across the grass. With the end of winter, it was only cold and wet, rather than snowy and stormy. “Eisa, do you remember what I’ve told you to do before with your magic?”

“Yes,” Eisa nodded, shutting her eyes and sticking her tongue out in concentration. “Focus on my magic. It’s in my entire self, but I can grab it in my stomach…” Loki watched with a second sight as Eisa reached for her magic, watching as she took it in small but firm hands.

“Very good. Now, I’ve taught you to hold it with your hands and keep an awareness. Now I want you to keep watching it, but let it go.”

“Let it go?” Eisa asked, worried, grip on her magic increasing, the pressure rising. Loki hummed in affirmative, resting her hands on Eisa’s cheeks. “Is it safe?”

“Yes, my darling, do not worry. Once you have let go, you’re going to watch your magic. Can you see it, my Valkyrie?”

Eisa squeezed her eyes, before Loki watched her let go of her magic. Her heartbeat increased, and Loki could see her magic spread outwards, out of the confines of her body onto the blanket, and the grass, pushing out and wrapping around everything it touched, before Eisa grappled for it, scared.

“Darling, do not panic, it’s fine, shh…here,” Loki reached out with her own magic, knowing she was far more powerful that her daughter. It blanketed her child’s magic, encasing it. “Now stop your mindless attempts at pulling it in. It is you, and you are it. It is another limb, and only you control it. It does not control you.” She kept the magic firmly contained, but did not try to force it back into Eisa – only she could do that.

“How, mummy?”

“It is you. Order it back, pull it back as if it were your arm, or your leg. Try, my lovely.” Loki knew she could do it, or she would at least be able to eventually. Carefully, she watched Eisa as she struggled, not managing to get it. Loki couldn’t help but feel a small amount of disappointment, before she kissed Eisa’s head. “Keep trying. Even I had trouble.”

The lie came with an ease of a thousand years practice.

Charlie had been feeling eyes on him ever since he’d returned to Romania. At first, he thought it was Loki, his mama, hiding, watching him and he hadn’t particularly minded – terrible things had happened to them, after all. But then she sent him letters, asking what he did, how he was doing, and Charlie reconsidered his guess. The former-God started paying attention to everything. He noticed how the watcher stayed clear of the dragons, how they would hide under his bed when he slept – how they would steal his letters for a day then return with them, residues of magic coating the degrading paper.

Now, nearly four months later, he had a plan.

Watching his brother’s letter – a new one, about his triumph in the Second Task, retrieving both his friend Luna and Fleur Delacour’s sister, Gabrielle after Fleur was knocked out of the running – Charlie feigned sleep, magic at his fingertips, magic that Uncle Loki had forced him to learn after taking his wand hostage. From beneath his bed, the watcher shuffled, before shuffling out.

Charlie rolled off the bed, grabbing their neck, forcing the magic to their jaw, placing them unconscious…and then he realised that his watcher was an animal. Looking at the unconscious canine on his floor, Charlie sent tiny fireballs to the candles on his bedside-table, before getting off the dog, eyeing it curiously. It looked like a normal dog, but…larger, more Admiral’s size now the Golden Retriever was fully-grown, with dark brown fur interspersed with golden brown, making circles around its eyes and muzzle, and colouring the insides of its ears.

But while Charlie didn’t know much about dogs, he was pretty sure they weren’t supposed to have bit silver scars through the top of their muzzle, easily visible with how the fur was pretty much falling off around it.

“Who’s your master, eh?” Charlie muttered, before picking the dog up, frowning at it’s weight. Dogs are usually lighter than this. Leaving his room, he walked through the corridor of the communal dragon handler building, going to the back door and exiting into the forest, wary of any of his co-workers as he headed to the rune circle he’d laid out under a disillusionment when the watcher – the dog, he had to assume – wasn’t there. Placing the dog inside, Charlie stepped back, activating the runes and making sure they were stable before waking the dog up.

Its eyes blinked open, before it growled. Charlie wasn’t fazed.

“Why have you been following me? Are you an animagus? A warg? Just a faithful pet doing as it’s told?” The dog looked away, seemingly searching for something, before Charlie continued. “Where did you get that scar? Had to be nasty – not many people would injure a dog who clearly has connections to magic – for all they knew, you were someone’s familiar.” Then the dog’s eyes stopped on something behind him, and Charlie felt the cool blunt of a knife against his throat.

“Narfi, do shut up.” It was a female voice, and Charlie caught sight of a shapely leg as she reached past him with her foot, breaking the outer circle of the runes. The dog trotted out past him, and Charlie was hefted forward, dropped onto the ground. He spluttered, before turning, facing the dog and it’s mistress.

“Who are you? How do you know who I am?” He questioned, wary, muscles tense. The woman was dark-haired, with glaring eyes and a square jaw, dressed in black jeans and a spiked leather jacket, with thick combat boots. “Why have you been spying on me?”

“We had to know if you knew – you do, is our answer. Expect to see us again in the future.” And then she turned, walking off into the shadows, dog behind her. Charlie scrambled to his feet.

“Wait, you didn’t tell me who you were!” They had disappeared from his sight, so he rushed after them, only…only to find nothing. He searched the area, but he couldn’t find a hide or hair of them. “Merlin…”

He had to write to his Uncle.

Chapter Text

“What the hell do you mean, it’s then? I can’t compete on that day, or any day near it,” Vali’s eyes were wide. Bagman, however, just clapped him on the shoulder.

“It’s already been arranged, Harry – the Third Task will be on that day.”

Cedric came to his defence, “Mr Bagman, sir, I don’t think that you realise that the day we do the Third Task will be on a full moon. Vali cannot compete, literally – he’ll be out for the entire day, trying to get his strength back from the night before.” Bagman’s happy expression wavered, and Fleur and Viktor looked quietly horrified. “If you make Vali compete and dark falls, he could turn inside the maze. It’d be suicide for us, and if Vali hurt anyone, it doesn’t matter if he’s a minor, he’ll be sent to Azkaban.”

“Well, uh, I suppose I’d better talk to the other organisers,” Bagman’s hand slipped from Vali’s shoulder, “Yes, I need to speak to them, yes…” He quickly hurried off, leaving the four champions in the middle of the maze.

“Well this is crap,” Vali muttered, eyes glowing amber as he kicked the nearest hedge, Admiral sniffing his leg at his anger, “Full moon is tonight. I need to get going.” Wolfsbane was waiting for him in the hospital wing- “What was that?” His head shot up, ears straining.

Cedric frowned, “What’s what, Vali?”

“I can hear-” Vali started running, “Come on! We need to help him!” He bounded over the hedges, following the sounds of the shouting, the others coming up behind him but not quite making it due to his werewolf physiology. Only Admiral was able to keep up, and soon they were at the edge of the Forbidden Forest – Barty Crouch staggering out from the tree-line.

“Mr Crouch,” Cedric stopped, eyes wide. “But he’s supposed to be ill!”

“Crouch?” Viktor questioned, eyebrows furrowed as Vali slowed, walking up to him, “Is he not von of ze organisers?”

“Oui, yes,” Fleur nodded, joining Vali in approaching the man, “Monsieur Crouch, what are you doing here in ze woods?” She put a hand on his arm, only for him to grab for her wrist. Vali pushed her off, taking the older man’s wrists tightly as he, wide-eyed, questioned him if he knew Dumbledore.

“Yes, I know Dumbledore.”

“Need to- need to tell…”

Vali pursed his lips as Admiral whined. The sun was on the horizon. I need to get my Wolfsbane, or just to the Shrieking Shack. He looked to Cedric. “Get him to Dumbledore’s office. Viktor, Fleur-” he thought hurriedly, before speaking in Bulgarian and then French, telling them to guard Cedric and Crouch while the Hogwarts Champion lead them all through the castle. Upon Cedric’s confused look, he explained, “We don’t know if this is Mr Crouch and his illness, or if someone else has done this to him. Fleur and Viktor will make sure he isn’t spontaneously abducted or anything else untowards, while you’re on your way to Dumbledore’s. I need to get to the Shrieking Shack – I don’t think I have time to get to the Hospital Wing.”

Cedric nodded, before stunning and levitating the man who was now re-enacting some conversation about his son and how many OWL’s he’d received, the three Champions leaving immediately. Vali cricked his neck, glancing at the setting sun.

“C’mon Admiral, we have to go – now.”

“This has gone on long enough,” James hissed as Loki clutched the bloody pillow-case he’d handed her. “We have to take her to a doctors office.”

“But her magic…” Loki defended weakly.

“I don’t care. She won’t live long enough to do anything with it if we don’t take her to a hospital.”

“We’ll have to make an appointment,” Loki whispered. James nodded stiffly, before going over to their calendar, pointing out the NHS numbers Loki had dutifully copied down at James’ request before picking up the landline, calling it. Loki listened to him make an appointment, explaining how his five-soon-to-be-six year old daughter was coughing up blood, and she was getting regular fevers, since around December-time. When he was done, he slammed the phone on the receiver, writing down the time and date on the calendar before turning to her.

“Out of the two of us, I am the one who decides on whether someone in our family is ill enough to need a hospital appointment and or treatment. You are not human, Loki, so you can’t be the judge. Next time I say we need to get a doc immediately? We get a doc immediately.” He stormed off, leaving her holding the pillow-case in the hallway, alone. Loki shut her eyes.

No matter how old I am, I am not infallible. She had to remember that. I’m not omniscient, I’m not all-powerful…Loki had to remember that her daughter was only human.

Her eyes opened.

But she’s not.

“All our pets ‘cept Marcia are helper-pets,” James muttered as they sat by Vali’s bedside table. Admiral was lying beside him, on top of the covers. Madam Pomfrey didn’t even seem to mind – even when Orion joined them.

Loki shook her head slightly, shifting Eisa on her lap. “Marcia helps Elizabeth and Bran. She’s become attached.”

“No wonder, since you warded their house to keep her inside.”

“We can’t afford Marcia getting attached to the house in the country – how’s the deal going with that house in the suburbs?”

“Managed to convince them to keep that one with the garage for us when it’s finished. Near a park, the school, the hospital…I’ve already told Eisa’s doctor’s we’re moving to the area.”

“That’ll help. We don’t need any mishaps once her treatment gets started,” Loki looked to her, wondering if she could hear them with how her headphones were. Eisa was watching her brother as he slept, but listening to music – probably to drown out all the condolences and ‘he’ll be okay’s from Vali’s friends and teachers. Just about everyone had tried to reassure her by now.

No-one really knew what to do though, seeing as this was the first documented case of transforming werewolves being crucioed into unconsciousness. Only Fleur and Viktor’s quick-thinking had got the three of them out of there alive.

“Eisa said she wanted a puppy,” Loki spoke randomly, remembering, “Maybe we should indulge her.”

“What kind of puppy?” James questioned. “Cause I don’t want another gigantic dog like Admiral and Orion.”

“No, something smaller,” Loki agreed, “But not too small. I think size is part of the reason why they’re so comforting.”

“Yeah,” James agreed, before standing, stretching his arms. “I need to tell my boss I won’t be in for the next few days. Any way you can send me back or do I have to use that god-awful fireplace?”

“Fireplace.”

James grumbled, before leaning over to kiss Vali’s forehead, leaving shortly. Loki watched over her son, eventually speaking to fill the silence, telling him stories of her childhood – of when Mjolnir was stolen and she had Thor dress up in a wedding gown, pretending to be Freya; of Iðunn, when she both lured to and saved from Þjazi; of sitting with her mother, Frigga, in the top of the tallest of the Palace spires, and learning how to control and use her magic.

She only hoped that her son would wake.

“Hey, kid!”

Vali turned, frowning as a man came up to him on a skateboard. He wore a baggy shirt, jeans, and a backwards cap, a cigarette between his lips, tattoos lining his arms. Scruff surrounded his jaw, and a stud pierced his left ear.

“I saw you earlier, doing all the flips and stuff – ever been on a board before?” He stopped, flipping his skateboard up into his hand before holding it out. Vali eyed it warily, shaking his head, feeling Admiral come up to brush by his side. “It’s fun, I promise,” the man grinned, chain necklace rattling. “I’ll even show you how.”

Vali reached for his pocket, taking out his notebook and pencil, writing down what he wanted to say before holding it up. The man looked over, smile dropping.

“Well that sucks, man. Do you know if it’ll get better?” Vali shook his head, before biting his lip, writing down more of what he wanted to say. The man peered at the notebook. “Awesome. Come on, I’ll show you the basics. People call me Mango.” Vali raised an eyebrow. The skateboarder shrugged. “What can I say – I like my mangos.”

“Sit.” Eisa ordered the puppy. The dog sat, to the delight of the girl, who clapped cheerfully. “Mum! I know what we’re calling her!”

“What, my darling?”

“Darling! It’s sweet, and now you have to call me qiānjīn if you want to call me darling,” Eisa said smugly, lip twisting. Loki narrowed her eyes, focusing on her daughter’s face rather than on the bandana over her cropped hair.

“Any other reason?”

“Because she’s a darling too!” Eisa said, before turning to the sheepdog collie-cross, stroking her black ears as she yipped, tail thumping on the ground. “You are a darling, yes you are!”

Loki pressed her lips together, before sighing, shaking her head as she turned away from them, framing the last of her certificates. If Eisa wasn’t sick, maybe I would apply for a university. Maybe music – she’d always been good at the harp, and singing. As a Princess, she’d been forced into learning both arts – Thor had been made to play the lute. He’d broken it so many times in his enthusiasm as a child that Odin had commissioned one enchanted not to break. Learning music in a professional setting might be nice – or maybe Law, or Business, or Science. SHIELD would appreciate it if she learnt Sciences, if she ever wanted to join the agency for her own personal amusement. Maybe-

“Mum? Can Darling come with me to the hospital?”

Loki’s heart dropped, clenching painfully, “We’re having it all sorted out, sweet one. Don’t worry.”

“I won’t. You never fail.”

Oh really? I never fail? “You must be thinking of a different mummy,” Loki scoffed, before piling her certificates up, banishing them to her new study, where James, no doubt, would hang them up rather than let them sit in a cardboard box for eternity.

What was the point in dreaming for herself, anyway, when she had her family to take care of?

“Mar-ca,” Vali forced out as she tried to claw Admiral’s tongue as he yawned, “Mar-ca, s-s-s- stop.” He went over, picking her up with shaky hands. Marcia mewled, before Admiral stood properly, bumping his knees. Vali put the cat over by the door, tugging Admiral’s collar to follow him to the sofa, tugging him up. He was about to drop down beside him, when Marcia came flying back in, up over the sofa arm and onto Admiral – a second later, Darling came scurrying in, sliding on the varnished floor. Vali sighed, before reaching out with his magic, searching for Eisa.

Luckily, she was nearby, and came in after Darling, walking slowly, rubbing her eyes, “Hey Vali. What’d Darling do now?”

“Mar-ca,” he croaked, “s-scare her.” Eisa made a frowny-face at Darling, before going over to her, shushing her and picking her up, only to wobble, Darling slipping out of her arms. Vali swept over as the dog squawked, picking her up and putting her behind Admiral haphazardly before grabbing at Eisa as her legs gave out. “Ei­sa,” he croaked in worry, “S-sleepy? Pain? Ow…ee?”

“’M tired, Vali, wanna sleep…” she said quietly, sniffing. “’M so tired, Vali, I just want it to stop.” She started to cry, and Vali sat where he had aimed to, pulling his sister onto his lap, pushing Marcia away as she tried to climb between them. “Why am I ill, Vali?”

“Don’t-t- know, Eisa.” His throat was starting to ache. Too much speaking. But he had to – Eisa was upset. “N-not your f-fault. P-p-people d-don’t be-become ill because of- of things they do. J- just happens.”

“You were attacked, and you’re ill. You- you can’t speak properly anymore,” Eisa looked up at him through thick lashes, teary-eyed. “I just got ill. The medicine made me lose all my hair. I want it back. I want it all to be like it was before – before you couldn’t speak and I wasn’t ill and before Mum and Dad weren’t fighting-”

“F-fighting?” Vali became confused. Eisa nodded, pulling herself closer to him.

“About us. Me, you. And Dad’s working more. You can’t see ‘cause you’re at school all the time. I can’t wait to go there. I wouldn’t have to see them fight all the time.”

They seem fine to me, was what Vali wanted to say. He was having a lucky day though, it seemed, because Eisa picked up on it.

“They don’t like to fight in front of me, but I hear them at night. Daddy keeps worrying about if we have to pay money, and he wants Mum to stop focusing on us because she’s letting herself go. Mummy’s just fighting with Daddy and apparently making a lot of bad decisions.” Vali listened, wondering how he’d missed it all. Are they going to break up? Eisa leaning up, kissing his cheek before burrowing her head in the crook of his neck. “I just wanna sleep, Vali. I’m so tired…”

ARE THE TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT CHAMPIONS RIGHT? IS HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED ALIVE ONCE MORE? SKEETER INVESTIGATES

Written and editing, by Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly Reporter. Guest photographer, Colin Creevey.

As many of you know, the end of the Third Task of the Triwizard Tournament brought major panic to Wizarding Europe when Fleur Delacour (17, Champion for Beauxbatons, Veela) and Viktor Krum (18, Champion for Durmstrang, famous Seeker for Bulgaria’s National Team) returned from an unknown location alongside an unconscious and transformed Harry Potter (14, the Boy-Who-Lived and most famous werewolf in the entire Wizarding World), claiming that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had arisen from the dead.

Delacour herself was halfway in transition into her Veela form, crying and suffering from what Healer’s later diagnosed to be the effects of prolonged exposure to the Cruciatus Curse. Krum suffered a similar diagnosis, along with the after-effects of the Imperius Curse. Harry Potter was in a coma for many days after the attack, not even waking during the next two full moons, due to the unforeseen horror of being placed under the Cruciatus Curse while transforming. After he did awaken, and this was confirmed, Potter claimed much the same as Delacour and Krum – that You-Know-Who was once again at large.

Such news was obviously very terrifying for all. But all the Champions have one thing in common – they were placed under Unforgivables during times of vulnerability. Which is why, my dear readers, I wondered if it were possible that the Champions were suffering from hallucinations, or delusions brought on by such traumas? It was, to my astonishment, once I had interviewed a Healer of St. Mungos, entirely possible!

“The Cruciatus Curse if admittedly not my true area of study,” said Healer McAmble, “but I know enough about any form of torture, and the introductions of truths during these types of torture. Due to what they were going through, the Triwizard Champions could easily have misinterpreted what they heard or saw during the time they were missing. Due to their explanations of events though, it would not be wise to completely dismiss them – if there is someone out there willing to Crucio children, even into silence, then they are a force on par with, at the very least, Bellatrix Lestrange.”

It would be wise to inform you, my readers, that Bellatrix Lestrange, among her many other crimes in service for the Dark Lord, committed the atrocity that was casting the Cruciatus Curse on not one, but two distinguished Aurors for a prolonged-enough time that, to this day, Frank and Alice Longbottom have not regained their minds, having since lived in the long-term ward at St. Mungos Hospital for Magical Maladies. They are living embodiments of what happens when the Cruciatus Curse is taken too far.

Healer McAmble, of course, brings up some very pertinent points – even if the Champions did hallucinate or misinterpret some vital piece of information, there is still a Dark Witch or Wizard capable of these foul deeds out there. The Auror Office had no comment to give this writer, but this writer has been informed by an inside source that there is a large investigation going on, trying to unearth the identity of the mystery torturer, and to gather information on whether it is indeed, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

For more on the current activity of the Auror Office, turn to page 16.

For more on werewolves and the outcry at the Senior Undersecretary’s Restrictions against their employment and benefits, turn to page 21.

For more on Fleur Delacour’s choice to stay in Britain despite recent events, turn to page 4.

When Loki had been summoned to appear in front of a thirteen-year old boy, the God had been at first curious. It had been centuries since any Midguardian had summoned him – he had thought the magic had been lost to them forever. But he was summoned, and so he came, appearing in the classroom in which the boy had drawn out the runes in careful chalk beneath his feet.

“Hello,” he had said, raising an eyebrow. “Why have you summoned me?” The boy had frowned.

“You’re a man.”

“I am male, yes – were you expecting me to be a woman?”

“Yes,” the boy had nodded simply, before standing, brushing off his robes – magicians robes, Loki had noticed, decorated with a crest unfamiliar to him. “Who are you? I got it wrong, obviously?” He’d gone over to a table, flipping through a book. Loki had swept over, peering over his shoulder. “It was supposed to summon her…”

“You have the page turned to Loki – did you think someone different would come in my place?” The boy had frozen, before turning in disbelief.

“You’re not Loki – Mama’s a woman!”

That had been when the humour slipped from Loki, the God freezing as terror slipped down his spine. “Mama?” It could not be – the tales of Ragnarok were false! He had never sired beasts, or children – Thor had made sure of that when he was a young, young child, when he played with weapons he shouldn’t have been playing with. “What is your name?” He questioned suddenly, gripping the boy’s shoulder.

“Charlie! My name-” but he had stopped himself, forcing himself not to speak, breathing in. “I can’t figure it out.”

“Can’t figure out what?” Loki had questioned desperately. The boy met his eyes.

“If the dreams are real.”

It had been the beginning of the end. Loki didn’t like remember the panic that followed, listening to Charlie’s tale of growing up in the Deadwood Greene with horror. He’d left as soon as he’d finished, going straight to his mother and asking her just what Charlie meant. Frigga, however, had calmed him. “He is not your son, my child, but the son of your alternate self – a self that was born, yes, a woman. Narfi was reborn for a purpose – he will reunite with her someday, somehow.” It had been both music to his ears and a heavy blow. Loki had always longed to be a father – it was why he took on so many apprentices, saved so many pets that would have otherwise died without his help. He wished for the day that Thor was King and had his Queen, so that he could spoil his nieces and nephews to his heart’s content.

Of course, Loki didn’t quite remember that time passed extraordinarily quickly for mortals until Frigga reminded him that Charlie still searched for answers.

Nearly a decade later, their relationship was strong, and Loki treasured Charlie’s uttering of Uncle Loki – but the Coronation approached, only fifteen years away. Loki and Thor were so similar in age, barely a two centuries apart, that Odin had never graced either of them with the title of Crown Prince. As such, while Loki did truly want and believe that Odin would choose Thor, both of them had to prepare for the burden of the crown. Loki had previously visited Charlie, spending each and every weekend with him as he trained to become a dragon-handler at Hogwarts, and then when he left Hogwarts, spent odd days with him, but with all the work he was now putting in to organising troops and guest invites and remodelling of the palace, their interactions of late had been confined to letters.

On hearing that Charlie had reunited with Vali and his mother though, and that Charlie had been approached by a mysterious Sorceress with strange magic, Loki had been begging for time off from everything – and finally, months later, Odin had granted him a week. A week. Seven entire days to do as he wished.

Using the secret passages, he travelled to Midguard, searching out first Charlie. His nephew greeted him happily, before explaining what had happened in fuller detail, teleporting them to where the woman and her familiar had disappeared to. Immediately, Loki put a hand to his face, trying not to breathe the air in.

“Uncle Loki?”

“Death magic,” he hissed, eyes narrowing as he pinpointed where the Rip to Helheim had been opened. Lifting his hand, he blasted it with emerald magic, banishing any trace of the magic left there after the Rip was shredded from existence. “You must tell me exactly what happened, Narfi, every single detail.”

“I’ve already told you,” Charlie said quietly, voice lower than usual. Loki knew why – he only called the boy Narfi when it was important. Wrapping an arm around his shoulders, Loki teleported them away – far, far away from the stench of death that had been slowly making him feel nauseous. “Uncle Loki, who…what, could do that kind of shit?”

“The type of magic exhibited in that clearing can only be used by very few – and none would dare come to Midguard, not with how your primitive your planet is.” Loki could feel his magic projecting. He should probably stop it, but he was too worried for Charlie’s safety to bother calming down. “You were definitely sure she was a woman?”

“Yeah, she wasn’t…well, let’s just say that Tonks once tried to be a man for a day and utterly failed. She isn’t someone dressed up in a woman’s body.”

“And if she is like me? Your mother? We’re both shapeshifters, and while we are comfortable in our true gender, we can easily switch between the two. I once spent several centuries as a woman, just to piss off my father.” Loki said distractedly, trying to think. Who? Who could she be? A familiar could narrow it down- but what if it’s not a familiar? “The dog. You said it had an odd scar.”

Charlie frowned. “Yeah. Big, silver scar through the top of it’s jaw. Any normal dog probably wouldn’t have survived.” But now Loki was staring at Charlie, his mind having finally span into a direction that fit the situation that fit all parameters. “Uncle Loki?”

“In Asgard, the tale of Ragnarok is well-known,” Loki stated slowly, “What did your mother tell you of any of your other siblings?” Charlie blinked.

“Other siblings?”

Loki opened his mouth to explain, when he felt a presence appear behind him. Without thinking he turned, knives already flying – only for the woman to catch them, meeting his eyes, emerald meeting emerald.

“Do you think Fenrir is here?” She asked, words like daggers. Loki looked her up and down, wondering at the dark but flowery dress, noting how she was identical to the female form he took. Which is to be expected, but still…seeing her with his own eyes.

Loki bowed deep, “Lady Loki.”

She curtseyed just as low, “Lord Loki.” Lady Loki handed back his knives, which he took gracefully before kissing her cheek. “Fenrir?”

“Narfi had a meeting – he was watching from a distance, stealing his correspondences with you. When he tracked him down, a Necromancer rescued him. Female. Dark-haired-”

“Necromancy as in, the Necromancy of one of the inhabited Realms? Or do you mean Necromancy of-”

“-Helheim,” he finished with her, taking her hands tightly. She has been through so much. “Sister, I would assist you in finding them.”

She nodded solemnly, before resting her forehead against his. Loki welcomed it, shutting his eyes and reaching out with his magic, reaching out to touch their magics together, watching as they swam through each other, as if they were from the same source. To Loki, it felt as if he were suddenly doubly powerful, and no doubt Lady Loki felt the same. But he knew they could not keep it up – they were already radiating. They broke at the same time, withdrawing their magics, having the same thoughts. Lady Loki watched him, as he watched her – and then she looked to Charlie, one hand leaving his.

“Charlie, how are you?”

Charlie came over, hugging her lightly, “Mother. I’m good – you? Eisa? Vali?”

“Eisa’s getting worse, but it’s to be expected. Vali’s speech is improving.”

Charlie nodded, smiling fleetingly. “Good.” He looked to Loki. “So, you two finally meet,” he said in a joking voice. The two looked at each other in shared amusement, before Lady Loki teleported them all to a sickeningly mundane house. Loki looked around, feeling the wards envelope him with strange familiarity, before catching sight of two children lying on a Midguardian seating arrangement. As soon as they appeared, they looked around, the smallest smiling brightly.

“Mummy!” It was then that Loki noticed the ball of fluff wriggling around on her lap, and a mountain of golden fur over the teen boy’s legs. With mounting excitement, Loki looked around the room, trying to figure out how many pets his counterpart owned. “Who are you?”

Charlie spoke first, grinning at her, coming over and crouching down, nodding to the boy happily. “Eisa, my name’s Charlie – you might know me better as Narfi.” Eisa’s eyes went wide.

“You’re our brother!” She pushed the black and white pup onto her brother’s chest, practically falling into Charlie’s awaiting arms. “I’ve been wanting to meet you for ages.”

“Me too, kiddo,” Charlie squeezed her tight, before looking between her and the boy, who Loki assumed was Vali. “Val, Eisa, I want you to meet Uncle Loki – Mama’s counterpart here.” The girl – Eisa – looked over at him, staring.

“You look just like mum,” she and Vali said as one, causing Loki to smile.

“If I did not, I would be worried.” He looked to Lady Loki, who was pressing buttons on a small Midguardian device. On the screen, he could see her forming some sort of message to ‘James’, who he assumed was the partner that Charlie had once mentioned. “Milady?”

“How long are you going to be here for, do you know?” She inquired, glancing at him, “I can get a guest bedroom set up for you.”

“I have one week, before I am summarily encumbered with duties – the Coronation is in fifteen years.”

She looked surprised, “Coronation? I had forgotten – Thor was very busy in my universe. I am from many centuries later than you, right now.”

“I assume you were not to be crowned.”

“Oh no, I was crowned,” she smirked, chin rising, and Loki all at once wondered just what had happened in her universe. He could see pride, and victory in her eyes – but also dying fury, and annoyance, and…What do you fear? He wondered. Then Eisa spoke up, sounding happy.

“Mummy was a Queen of Asgard and Jotunheim – I’m a princess!”

Loki reared back, “Jotunheim?!” Lady Loki seemed to realise something, in that moment, and put her Midguardian device away, looking to Charlie.

“James will be back soon. Make sure to introduce yourself quickly.” Then she stalked over, teleporting them away somewhere cold, that was covered in snow and was very flat, but was so vast that Loki could not see anything other than white one the horizon. “Loki, there is something you need to know, and it will not be something you will ever forgive Odin for.”

Loki looked at his counterpart with apprehension. “What can be so great that I will never forgive our father for it?” His confusion only increased as she bared her teeth as his words, growling.

“Odin is not my father. He never has been and he never will be again!” Loki’s brows furrowed, before he watched as she forcibly calmed herself and shut her eyes- and then blue spread across her skin, ridges appearing in a design he had only ever seen in books.

“Laufey…” his mouth went dry. Lady Loki opened her eyes – now a bright scarlet instead of their original emerald. Loki swallowed, before reaching out, twirling a lock of hair around his finger. “Jotun’s don’t have hair. They don’t need it.” Lady Loki seemed confused.

“What?”

“I-” Loki thought he was going to cry. “Norns- Norns.” He put his hands to his mouth, “Frigga is not our mother. Tis final proof – she cannot be my mother.”

Lady Loki seemed even more confused, “What are- what is running through your head, brother-mine? For I do not think our thoughts run in the same direction.”

Loki pressed his hands to his eyes, stopping tears from falling. “When I was young, very young, Thor played with a spear thrice as tall as he. Somehow, he managed to slice my abdomen open. I nearly died. My reproductive organs were irreparable. Eir removed them – but I saw, and she explained that it must have been because of Odin’s mother being a Jotun-”

“Saw what? What did you see, Loki?” Lady Loki took his wrists, and Loki watched as his skin turned blue. He swallowed.

“I saw the organs of both a man and woman, together in a way only a Jotun’s could,” he whispered. “Eir said it was because of Odin’s mother – for she was a Jotun, and therefore I must be this way because of her. But this is too much to be just a grandparent. We are born too close to Thor. Frigga most likely did not even see Odin, due to the Great War.”

“Loki, I- what you are thinking, it is not why you- why we are like this.” Lady Loki caught his gaze, holding it there by pure force of will. “Odin stole us from Laufey, Loki. He took us from a temple, where we had been left to die. We were adopted. We are the children of each of our respective King Laufey’s. If we are related to Odin, it is only distantly. I’m sorry. But it’s true.”

“No – you’re from a different Universe, it can’t be true!” Loki whispered, eyes wide. “No, sister, please tell me it is not true.”

Lady Loki slipped her hands from his wrist, holding his face tightly, kissing his forehead hard enough to leave a bruise as his breathing increased, losing control. “I’m sorry, Loki, my brother, me, mine. You are Loki Laufeyson, Prince of Jotunheim, and you were a stolen babe.”

“No!”

They dropped to the ground, Loki gripping Lady Loki’s dress like a child as she cradled his head, holding him tight as he cried.

“No.”

Chapter Text

Eisa paused to catch her breath as Bran ran on, giggling. They were playing tag, but Eisa was still feeling really tired. The doctors had said she could go back to school, because the medicine was working. Eisa didn’t like it much – it made her feel even more sick than she was – but it was making her lungs feel better, and her throat. Her mum said that it was very good that she was getting better, and that the doctors were hopeful she’d make it, that all the polyps in her chest were small and some were even completely gone.

“Eisa?” Bran called, stopping and turning. “Eisa, do you need your breather?” They both glanced over to where the playground monitors stood, her oxygen tank safe in its stroller-bag. One of the monitors – a nice lady called Miss Reid – went to pick it up, seeing her stop, but Eisa shook her head rapidly, running over to Bran and tapping his arm.

“Tag!” Running away, Eisa ignored how it became harder to breath, determined to finish the game – there were only two Tags left! Bran soon got her though, and she was running after him, her vision tilting. Eisa slowed, dropping to a crouch, Miss Reid coming over with her tank, pressing the mask to her face. Eisa gratefully sucked it up, sitting down on the concrete as Miss Reid petted her head lightly, causing her bandana to shift.

“Is she okay?” Someone asked. Eisa looked up, seeing a girl around her age with light brown hair, and a fringe. She wasn’t wearing a uniform, and Eisa didn’t recognise her. Is she new?

Miss Reid nodded, “She’ll be fine, she’s just having some trouble breathing. Go and play, uh…” Miss Reid frowned, “Are you a pupil here?”

“No. My brother’s lookin’ though,” the girl pointed to the building, “he went into there and told me to play. I’m Leah.”

“Well I’m Miss Reid, a helper here,” Miss Reid said kindly, “This is Eisa. She’s just turned six – how amazing is that?” Leah grinned.

“That’s cool. I turned five this year!”

“Are you gonna be in nursery, then, or primary one?” Eisa asked, voice muffled, but Leah seemed to understand.

“I don’t know. I think I’m gonna be in prime’ry one. Are you in prime’ry one?”

“Eisa’s a very clever girl,” Miss Reid said, “so she’s in a big kid class. She’s supposed to be in primary one, but she’s all the way in primary five.” Leah’s eyes widened.

“You must be really clever, Eisa!” Eisa blushed pushing her mouth further into the oxygen mask, looking down. Bran nodded emphatically.

“Aunty Loki’s really clever too! She taught Eisa and Vali lots of things, and me too! I’m in primary two!” He puffed up his chest, hands on his waist. Leah jumped slightly, grinning back at him.

“You must know lots of things – how many numbers do you know?”

“Lots and lots!” Bran exclaimed, “I can count all the way to a thousand! And I can times by seven!” Leah’s mouth dropped open.

“Wow. I can’t even times by three yet – my brother teaches me maths, ‘cause he’s really good at it.”

“My brother’s at a special school, and he’s doing maths for grown-ups – mummy and daddy wants him to do university exams soon,” Eisa said, remembering the conversation Vali had with their parents in the summer, before he did his teenager exams. “Vali’s really clever, even more clever than me.”

Leah went to speak again, but then the school bell rang, and a tall man came over and picked her up.

“Time to go, Your Highness,” he said, looking down at Eisa as Miss Reid stood, picking up the oxygen tank while Eisa pressed the mask to her face, putting the elastic band around her face. “Making friends?” Leah nodded.

“This is Eisa. Eisa, this is my brother. His name’s Fenrir.” Eisa’s eyes widened.

“I have a brother called Fenrir too!”

Fenrir smiled at her, “It’s a good name – but we have to go. It was nice to meet you. Say goodbye, Leah.” Leah waved, Bran and Eisa waving too.

“Bye Eisa, bye Bran.”

“Bye Leah,” the friends said together, before Miss Reid led them over to where everyone was lining up, Fenrir walking away with Leah on his back, arms wrapped around his neck. When they left through the gate though, Miss Reid giving Eisa the tank to drag behind her, Eisa’s brows furrowed, before she looked to Bran, pulling down her mask for a moment.

“How did she know your name?”

Bran shrugged, “Maybe she heard it in the playground when we was playing.” He pushed her a little, “C’mon, got to go inside, Eisa.” Eisa turned back to the rest of the line, hurrying to catch up with the rest of the primary ones.

It was only later, when she was boredly writing down all the names of her brothers and sisters in Golden Time, that she realised that Leah was an anagram of Hela.

Vali was having fun with his new skills.

Mango – and no, he’d still not given the real reason to why he was nicknamed after a fruit – had taught him how to skate, and it had taken up most of his summer, outside of helping Eisa, taking his exams, and looking after their various pets. Admiral, by now, was fully-grown and Mango had even taught the Golden Retriever how to stay on a board as it went down a slope – it was hilarious, and Vali got video evidence so he could prove it to Eisa, who was allowed nowhere near the skate-park, let alone near actual skaters. Even Vali wasn’t allowed to skate around her.

Their mother thought she’d get ‘ideas’.

However, Admiral had been requisitioned from him this year – his mother wanted him around to be a calming influence on Eisa’s puppy, Darling, who was a little too energetic right now to be her hospital companion. Admiral’s replacement? A drowned, golden-furred Labrador puppy that his dad had saved from drowning in the bucket it’d been left in, in some alley. As far as names went, his was one of the most unimaginative – Lucky. Vali was having trouble with him, actually. He was unusually adept at sensing magic, not needing the spell Admiral had so he wouldn’t fall through trick-steps to his death, and indeed, somehow, by pure luck, he was the most acrobatic dog Vali’s family ever owned, including Darling, who could do a somersault, of all things.

Therefore, it was predictable that Lucky was good at parkour.

Vali helped him in this endeavour, when he practiced his own stuff in the training room on the seventh floor, by putting him in a handmade harness and asking the room to create a rope that would lift Lucky up slightly, so he could get used to running on walls and doing backwards somersaults off walls with help, before the help was lowered and he was able to do it alone, without hurting himself.

Anyway, though, Vali was having the time of his life in Hogwarts, using a skateboard to get around. His fellow students thought it was cool, and he’d even inspired two or three of them to ask their parents to send their own boards, so they could board through the halls on their way to class, stuffing them in their backpacks upon arriving at their classroom.

Turning the corner, Vali pushed on before crouching down, scratching Lucky’s neck before picking him up, slowing to a stop and grabbing the board end as Tracey cooed over the pup.

“So, do we go inside?” He questioned Daphne as he saw the doors to the DADA classroom open. He was answered by his Gryffindor peers, who piled inside, the Slytherin’s following, filling up seats. Vali sat next to Dean Thomas today – Blaise was sick with dragon pox, so hadn’t come back to Hogwarts, and wouldn’t until he was better. Sticking his board in his bag and pulling out Admiral’s old dog-bed before he outgrew it, Vali placed it on the floor, settling Lucky on top, letting out a lupine growl as the puppy went to leave. Beside him, Dean raised an eyebrow.

“Can he understand you?”

Vali shrugged, “Maybe? I don’t know, but I’m really good at figuring out what he wants when he makes noises.”

Dean nodded, looking impressed. Across the classroom, Draco enchanted a paper bird – wandlessly, which gained him many hoots – which people watched, laughing as Seamus Finnegan threw something at it, causing it to dip, before Hermione Granger enchanted her own bird, using her wand to aim it at Malfoy’s, a mini-war starting, with people taking sides – Vali taking Granger’s, just because Malfoy had been a dick about Lucky the night before – before, all of a sudden, they were shot down, bursting into flame.

“I think that’s quite enough,” Professor Umbridge’s voice echoed across the class, sickeningly sweet. Vali located her up the stairs at the front of the class, in front of the closed door to her office. Everyone fell silent as she walked down the stairs, wondering what kind of professor they would be getting this year. First year had been a mess, with st-st-stuttering Professor Quirrell, second year had been a farce with ‘Professor’ Lockhart. In their fourth year, a polyjuiced Death Eater had taken the position. Third year had been the best, with Remus, and it was unsaid that he was their template for a ‘good teacher’. Not just Vali had been happy when he stayed on as Guidance Counsellor.

“Well, good afternoon,” she smiled as she came to the front of the class. There were a few mumbled hellos, to which she tutted. “That won’t do, now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply ‘Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge’. One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!”

“Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge,” they chanted back at her, Vali raising an eyebrow slightly.

“There, now,” said Professor Umbridge sweetly. “That wasn’t too difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out, please.”

Many of the class exchanged gloomy looks; the order “wands away” had never yet been followed by a lesson they had found interesting. Vali, who didn’t exactly have a wand, just watched amusedly as his peers put them away, sending him and those – like Malfoy – who were known to be able to do wandless magic dirty looks.

Professor Umbridge brought up her own wand – short wand, just like her, Vali thought with a twist of his lips – and tapped the blackboard sharply. Words appeared in thin, clear italics.

Defense Against the Dark Arts: A Return to Basic Principles

“Well now, your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn’t it?” stated Professor Umbridge, turning to face the class with her hands clasped neatly in front of her. “The constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry approved curriculum, has unfortunately resulted in your being far below the standard we would expect to see in your OWL year. You will be pleased to know, however, that these problems are now to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centred, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year. Copy down the following, please.”

She rapped the blackboard again; Vali belatedly grabbing a quill, parchment and ink as the first message vanished, being replaced by:

Course Aims:

1. Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic.
2. Learning to recognize situations in which defensive magic can legally be used.
3. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use.

For a couple of minutes the room was full of the sound of scratching quills on parchment. When everyone had copied down Professor Umbridge’s three course aims she asked, “Has everybody got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?” 

There was a dull murmur of assent throughout the class.

“I think we’ll try that again,” said Professor Umbridge. “When I ask you a question, I should like you to reply, ‘Yes, Professor Umbridge’, or ‘No, Professor Umbridge’. So: has everyone got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?” 

“Yes, Professor Umbridge,” rang through the room. Vali frowned, glancing around at everyone. They actually got that book? But it’s absolute crap…

“Good,” said Professor Umbridge. “I should like you to turn to page five and read ‘Chapter One, Basics for Beginners’. There will be no need to talk.” Vali watched, confused, as everyone opened their books, starting to read. Looking to Daphne and Tracey let him sense the familiar tingle of glamouring magic – they had magazines inside the pages, most likely – but they were the only ones. “Mr Potter, is there something the matter? Where is your book?”

“I thought it was a joke,” Vali looked to her, “That the book was on the supply-list, I mean.” He was getting a few looks now, and Professor Umbridge’s smile dimmed.

“Well, it was no joke, Mr Potter. I expect you to owl-order one by next week – but for now, I do have a spare.” She flicked her wand, causing a copy to float up from her desk over to Vali’s, thumping down onto the wood. “There.” But Vali didn’t move to open it, frowning at it. “Mr Potter,” Professor Umbridge sighed lightly, “is there something wrong? Are you once again in need of glasses?”

“No. My eyesight was fully fixed. I just- why Slinkhard? He was a pansy – a paper-pusher. If we’re focusing on theory, why aren’t we reading some Auror memoir, or guide? You’re from the Ministry, surely you have access?” He probed, frowning at her.

But that, it seemed, was the wrong thing to say. Her smile became fixed, “Mr Potter, this is the required, Ministry-approved material-”

“And? You’re the teacher, you should be able to place another book on the list – I’ve read this book already, and so has my mother. She’s had thousands of years experience in the field, and-”

“Mr Potter, your mother is dead,” Umbridge interrupted in a saccharine tone, “If you are referring to your guardian, this…woman who calls herself a goddess, well,” Umbridge laughed, and if the class had been quiet before, they were silent now, “I’m afraid you’ve been misled.” She turned her gaze on Hermione Granger, whose hand was up. “Yes dear? Do you have a question about the text?”

“I have a query about the course-aims, actually, but I’d like to say, Professor, that it is incredibly insensitive of you to say that kind of thing to Vali – he was adopted by Loki, who has proven more than once that what she says is true-”

“Your question?” Umbridge interrupted shrilly, laughing nervously. “And your name?”

Hermione pursed her lips. “Hermione Granger.”

“Miss Granger…please ask your question about my Course Aims?”

Hermione was silent for a few moments, before speaking in a strong voice. “There’s nothing written up there about using defensive spells.”

It all went downhill from there.

Mother,

Professor Umbridge is a vile, prejudice toad bitch who uses dark artefacts to punish children

“You are not actually going to send that to her, are you?” Blaise frowned, “She’ll kill her.”

Vali banged his head down on the table, groaning, “No, I’m not, but I want to, so badly.”

“If you did, you’d probably get in more trouble than its worth – the Ministry is taking over Hogwarts,” Tracey added. “Your mother killing their employee would make them wary, and she’d probably be charged for it. You’d be taken out of her care and put with someone, Draco probably.”

“That wouldn’t be a hardship. I’d like to think we’re friends – I could convince my parents to let you live with your adoptive father instead,” said teen added from his space beside Blaise, before going back to his conversation with Theodore Nott. Vali grimaced, before sitting up and balling the letter in his hand, placing it in his goblet and setting it on fire with barely a look. He looked to his hand.

‘I will not tell lies, I will not insult authority.’ gleamed brightly in the candlelight.

“-go on! Leave! No-one wants you here anyway!” Loki snarled, before James slammed the door. Immediately, Sirius became human, going over to where Loki stood, eyes gleaming.

“Hey, hey, come here, it’s all going to be fine, shh…” he wrapped his arms around her, cradling her head as she started crying. “You’re going to get past this. Bucky just needs some space.”

“She’s getting better by she’s dying, she’s still dying. Sirius, I don’t know what to do. Can magical healers do anything? Anything at all?”

“Cancer is a muggle disease – we don’t get muggle diseases.”

The Goddess buried her head into the material of his shirt, “I don’t know what to do…”

“You’ll figure it out, Lokes, don’t worry. You always worry,” he said it fondly, before he took her hands and stepped back, meeting her eyes. “I promise, I’ll always be there to help you-”

“What the fuck?”

Loki’s eyes snapped to James, who stood in the doorway again. “James-”

“What the actual fuck, Loki?” He stepped forwards, grabbing his gun from his back pocket, “That’s Sirius fucking Black.”

“My middle name is Orion, actually,” Sirius blinked, before looking to Loki as James tried to make sense of that. “Can you disarm him? I really don’t want to get shot.”

“I think it’s safer if you were shot, actually – he can kill you with his bare hands.” She wiped her eyes carefully, pushing away her upset as she stepped in front of Sirius. “James, Sirius didn’t kill those twelve people. Pettigrew did that too.”

“So, what, you’ve been hiding him? Where was he? Does he live here?” James questioned, but there was a haunted look in his eyes that let Loki know that he knew. His eyes left Sirius for the barest instant, tracking the room, before he lowered his gun and put the safety back on – Loki hadn’t even realised it was off. “I’m done, Loki. This- you let a- a shapeshifter live in our home! Around our kids!”

“He was your bodyguard, yours and Eisa’s,” Loki replied quietly, “If Hydra ever found you when I wasn’t there to help.”

“I can take care of myself, and Eisa,” James shook his head, tucking the gun into the back of his trousers. “Summon all my things.” Loki’s eyes widened.

“James-”

“I said I’m done, Loki, with you, with this…” he hesitated, “I’m done. I’ve- I’ve been looking at joining SHIELD anyway. I thought about it, for the future, when Eisa was better, or at least in high school-”

“James, please don’t do this,” Loki pleaded, stepping forwards, reaching for him. “What about Eisa? And Vali?”

“They can send me letters,” he replied quietly, shying away from her hands. “I’ll visit them in Edinburgh, at the café. I’ll stay with Eisa when she’s having chemo-treatment. But nothing more. I love them – they’re my kids. But they’re yours too, and I can’t, Loki. You can’t keep lying and concealing things and expect to get away with it.”

“James,” she said plaintively, “Please.”

He shook his head, coming forwards and kissing her forehead. “I’m sorry, but I have to go. I love you.”

Loki cried, “I love you too, and I’m so sorry, I’m so, so sorry.”

If they hadn’t been breaking up, James would have hugged her, held her close – instead, he just pulled away.