AN: Written for Dis Lexic! Based on chapter 59 (Hammer Time) of Dis Lexic's vault of Secrets.

I would suggest that you read Hammer Time before this story so it makes more sense :)

This is also my first time writing a crossover so if I'm terrible at this, I'm sorry XD

Hypocrite

Harry lay in his bed, after all these years he was looking at the stone ceiling of his own bedroom. The intricate designs carved into it were a mile better than what he had looked up to every morning when he had awoke for the past few years at Hogwarts.

He almost laughed. What a relief it was to be free of the school! The ignorant youngsters he had been forced to endure for the past few years had now been left behind—he wondered what they thought of his sudden disappearance. Surely Albus Dumbledore would be terrified. What had happened to his star pupil? The saviour of the Wizarding World! Harry snickered, what fools they were. Of course he was the one to be their saviour. He was the son of Odin after all.

And speaking of Odin, his father had deemed him ready to come home to Asgard… It was a dream come true. He couldn't believe that he might have remained, oblivious, in that life whilst his family was here. Only his father's ruling that he was worthy had brought Harry back to them.

But it was odd. Whilst he had been at Hogwarts, he had not minded the company of the youngsters for he hadn't been aware that he was any older than them. His true life had been hidden from him, the memories of it finally returning today.

But why had the memories returned in a dream? Why hadn't his brother told him of them… or better yet, his father? Of course, Loki had been there when he awoke to explain that the dream was a memory but didn't he deserve to hear the full story from their mouths? He was the king's son after all…

He swallowed the bitter thoughts and pictured them disintegrating in the acids of his stomach. It wouldn't do to get angry the moment he returned home. His heated nature had been what had gotten him banished from Asgard in the first place.

He was home; his father had deemed him worthy of returning. Forgiveness from Odin was a rarity, especially when he wanted to teach a lesson. It had probably been too painful for them to tell him themselves, or too detailed.

Or they didn't think it was that important. Harry shook his head; he would not think like that.

He had to focus on getting used to his old life again. But he couldn't.

The huge bedroom he was in felt cold and he couldn't connect to the memories that he knew had taken place here.

The time his father had run around the room with him on his back? He remembered it… he just couldn't feel it.

The time Loki and him had a competition to see who could last the longest jumping on the bed? He could remember it; he could remember the physical strain. But the feeling triumph and delight when he had won… they weren't there. He wasn't able to relive the emotions.

However, the time he had met Ron was clear in his mind. Not just the memory, but the emotions of having his 'first friend' as well. The feeling of happiness, content and acceptance were as clear as day to him. Why was that?

He felt his heart beat faster as panic bubbled up within him. Was he flawed? Would he never be able to feel the emotions of the past? Would he never be able to rule as he once did?

Did they do this on purpose? His father couldn't possibly be as cruel as to leave him without feelings from the past, could he? Maybe he needed more time to become accustomed to his old life again; the flood of memories had come all at once, it would probably take some time to sort through them again.

He banished you from your home for one mistake. Kings don't make mistakes… especially not your father.

The voice in his head that refused to leave was making some sense… a lot of sense. Harry's fists clenched at his side; he felt like he was going to explode. There was so much that he didn't know. His time away from home had thrown him from the way things now worked.

But there was one thing Harry was almost sure about. Odin was still trying to punish him. The king had tried to make himself look gracious to his people by allowing Harry to return, but he hadn't truly forgiven his son. The voice in his head was right; kings didn't make mistakes.

Harry turned onto his stomach and let out a frustrated scream into a plush pillow.

His father acted as if betrayal was the worst crime one could commit, yet he had betrayed his own son.

He growled one muffled word into his pillow, "Hypocrite."