Devil's Childe

Chapter Two

"Loyalties, and where they lie…"

Sorting Hat. Loki thought.

So, where to put you? The intelligence of a true Ravenclaw…. But the cunning of a Slytherin… It said.

'What does that mean? Intelligence and cunning go together do them not? You need intelligence for cunning…' She thought more towards herself, and didn't project this thought to the Hat. Loki sat contently as the Hat went through her memories and thoughts very quickly.

I know just what to do with you…

"SLYTHERIN!" The Slytherins erupted into cheers again, as the Sorting Hat shouted their House Name; everyone should know who the "Draekova"'s were.

"Draekova" was the alias name her Father's family had used for centuries when going to Wizarding Institutes. Most of the "Pure-Blood" families should know who Loki –sort of- was. Loki pulled the Sorting Hat off carefully, and walked with a slight troll bounce in her step, and plopped down on the huge wooden bench in-between Draco and Hadrian. As she sat, she saw Dumbledore glance her way, and she gave him that mischievous wink that the Headmaster himself, usually gave her. So, the Headmaster gave her the 'Party Don't Start 'til I walk in' trademark smirk, and the green cloaked Professor, -McGonagall- announced that Professor Dumbledore has some words to say.

"Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!" And boy, did the parrrrtayyyy begin. Loki cheered at his words, as did Sirs Fred and George Weasley.

Now, while she was never starved, Loki was usually kept on a diet at home, as she had started doing 'P90X3', to keep in shape. (Albeit, she still had her 'weak' moments, and she still looked un-nurtured no matter what. That, and no matter how much working out she does, she gains very little muscle.) Her high IQ had allowed her to remember quite a few of the simple workouts and stretches that would help her keep in shape while in her studies. Anyways, Loki "P.H.D'd" (-Pile Higher and Deeper-) her plate with all sorts of food. It was all nutritional and healthy of course, but she still had a lot. Steak, and green beans, and little gravy, and the roast beast! Troll-lol-lol-lol-lol…

All trolls aside, it was pretty damn good. Though as she started cutting into her fillet mignon, she felt the cool presence of the Bloody Baron, Slytherin's resident haunt. He 'sat' across from her and sighed, almost unnoticed. Except her, and the Baron himself.

"Miss steak, Baron?" she teased lightly, as she took a bite of the mouthwatering cut. He –equally teasing- took a close countered swipe at her, that didn't even reach her cheek.

"Respect your elders young Lady!" He growled. Loki laughed along with the Baron at the mortified looks of nearby second and third year Slytherins, as Draco looked at her like she was nuts, and Hadrian- curiosity. Seeing the question mark look on his face, Loki –channeling her inner-Father once more; she's been doing that a lot lately- purred:

"Choose your words carefully, child," half-teasing, "curiosity killed the cat you know. And I'm not just talking about Schrödinger's cat either. You'll have to ask my father about that alley cat." A very Father-like chuckle slipped through her lips, and she returned to her veggies, before magickally filling her goblet with a preferred beverage. Mm… Cherry Diet Coke…

While Hadrian and Draco chatted with the resident haunt of the House, Loki sat back and enjoyed her steak, her veggies in bacon fat, Cherry Diet Coke, and she talked to the Headmaster. Mental connections are bloody awesome. Excuse the pun. You know what…? To Hades with it- don't excuse the pun. Take it, or leave it.

Headmaster.

Loki, my dear.

Good to see you. Exciting term?

I'm afraid not, my dear. Though beware the third corridor. I know you aren't going to listen to the later announcement.

Aw, grandpa, I'm not that bad, am I? Lemme guess… Fluffy.

Yes, Loki… Fluffy is on the third floor corridor. Why did you have to get your parent's high intelligence? Loki knew her godfather was kidding her about her intelligence, and loved having casual debates with her, and on occasion with the Headmaster's good ol' friend, Nicholas Flamel. Good ol' jolly Uncle Nick, as she called him. Flamel was never without a smile and cheer around her when she was younger.

Back to dinner, the main course had disappeared, and desserts of the dozens had 'apparated' itself from the kitchens, and Loki couldn't mask her glee to her godfather.

Thank the house elves for me, godfather. The mass of red velvet crème pies before her were heaven. If it weren't for the sugar cookies, treacle tart, cherry, apple and chocolate turnovers, Loki probably would've only eaten the crème pies. But how could she, when all of her favorite desserts were in front of her face? Unsure of what to try, Hadrian tried everything nearby, -except Loki's crème pies. -'That rhymed.'- She had even seen the famous "Boy-Who-Lived" glance at the red velvet gooey-ness as if he wasn't sure if he should try to take one. When he glanced at them for a third time, Loki put two more on her plate, and then shoved the one she was about to eat, in his mouth.

Before he could say anything, she retorts: "Shush your gob, and eat it Hadrian. Sharing is Caring, and I've given you my favorite coveted treat," and she takes a bite of a cherry turnover, "make of that which you will." Then, she proceeds to shove one in Draco's mouth before he could say anything about it. The Bloody Baron –who was still sitting across from them- gave out a great ringing laugh, so much like her Father would do when she did something mischievous. Dessert soon vanished from the dinner plates, now once again sparkling clean, as the house elves worked their Magick.

As Dumbledore said she would, she tuned out what he said afterwards before sending the students to their dorms. Hadrian and Draco flanked her, as Ronald Weasley slammed into Loki's shoulder at the crowded doorway. As "strong" as she was, Loki still got jammed into the doorway, and that hurt like a b*. She gasped slightly as she gripped her bruised shoulder, as there was no doubt of the aged silver the door was. Draco put a supporting arm around her shoulders, while Hadrian pushed Ronald away from Loki lightly, but enough to move him away, and Hadrian's icy glare got the point across. Stay away.

The House Prefect, who no-one in Slytherin's little "Crown Trio" -as they would soon start to be called as weeks would come to pass- cared to learn the name of, led them to the Dungeons, which were cool, and dark- home sweet home, for Loki. The entrance of the Commons Room, was a wall, with a serpent adorned arch, that didn't look too suspicious, actually, and the Prefect told them the password for the next two weeks- "Basilisk". The upper year students were already in bed, so the vast, emerald and leather-couched, under-the-lake, Commons Room was vacant so the First Year students could meet their Head of House, Professor Snape.

Prefect McNo'OneCares, said: "Professor Snape, our Head of House will introduce himself shortly." And the sixth-year disappeared. The Head of House isn't that scary, is he?

You'll like Professor Snape, Loki. Dumbledore told her, like a whisper.

The man himself appeared in a swish of heavy black robes, with a grim look on his face, with shiny black hair framing his face.

Does he know about Shampoo and Conditioner, Grandpa? Loki inquired to Dumbledore with a mental smirk. She could feel not only her godfather laughing out loud, but also her father and godmother.

"Welcome, first years, to Slytherin House. I am Professor Snape, Potions Master and your Head of House for the next seven years." He paused dramatically between words, his silent tones rendering everyone silent as the grave, -not in Loki's Father's case …hehe- and attentive. His piercing onyx eyes met hers for a moment, and the Potions Master continued.

"You are to treat your housemates, as your family, and settle any inter-housemate disputes…" he paused again, "privately."

"Slytherin, as deceitful to the other houses as we are, are to uphold inter-house unity. If there are any severe inter-house problems, you are to come to no-one else. I do not expect any problems from you, unless it is with any other member of a different house. That is, expected. Any questions?"

Loki stepped up immediately.

"Sir, what if we already have had a small…" Loki channeled her inner-Father again, "problem, with other students of a different House?" She subconsciously rolled her bruised shoulder, and winced lightly. Try as she may, try as she might, Snape still caught it in his sight. He canted his head with a raised brow, and crossed his arms.

"Go on, Miss…?"

"Draekova; Loki Draekova, Sir." Loki stepped forward a little more, and she winced more as she brushed Gregory Goyle's broad shoulder. "As I said, about already having a problem, with other students…. what should I do?" Snape straightened and took a curious step forward.

"That depends, on what has transpired, Miss Draekova. You seem to have a… cold shoulder." Despite the monotone, Loki heard the teasing behind it. She smirked.

"Not cold, Sir. Just blue and bruised." Snape raised his brow once more, in genuine, shown, concern.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,

Slytherin House, Commons Room

Professor Snape {3rd Person Point of View}

Someone had already hurt one of his Snakes? How? And –most importantly- WHY?! Severus looked towards the first year, Loki Draekova, and questioned: "And who exactly has caused your, 'blue and bruised' shoulder; Miss Draekova?" She took a small breath, which jostled her injury more, making a wince wrack through her small frame, and her immediate reply was;

"Ronald Weasley, of Gryffindor. We met briefly on the train. He didn't take a liking to me very much, Sir." He pursed his lips tightly. 'What did she do? Or was it something the Weasley boy did?' He sighed, and pulled out a small draught, for numbing small pains like such, and handed to the small girl in front of him. She downed it without thought, and shifted her shoulder a hair's breadth when she immediately felt the numbness in the once aching, still bruised joint. She gave her thanks, but Severus still had to inquire from her:

"You would take a potion from someone without question Miss Draekova? What if that were… say, a vial of the Draught of Living Death?" Miss Draekova smirked up at the Potion's Master, and replied smoothly;

"You are our Head of House, and I have done nothing to insult you, Professor. Besides, you wouldn't poison your own students because a brash Gryffindor gave them a bruised shoulder. As our Head of House we are to look up to you for guidance and leadership, more-so than other Professors, possibly even Headmaster Dumbledore, and poisoning one of your own wouldn't insinuate inter-House unity to the other Houses. I have also smelt a Draught of Living Death, before, Professor. It doesn't smell like peppermint no matter what you do. My mother's a good brewer, I would know. And From Head of House to Student, I trust you to not do harm to me."

Okay… she had a damn good point there. Severus would never think of poisoning his students. And no, you really can't make Draught of Living Death smell like peppermint. You can make it smell like Firewhiskey though. And… she trusts him? Him? They barely know each other besides, 'Hello, I'm Head of House and Teacher', and 'Hello, I'm extremely smart Student with a heavily bruised shoulder'. How could he trust him based off that? There's no way in Tartarus' Pit she trusted him based off of 'Your House will be like your Family for the next 7 years,' sh* either. Who did she know that knew him enough? Was that possible? Posh…

Changing the subject, as he realized the late time –his students had to be up early. Especially the first and last years- Severus said: "Well, then. You have to be up early tomorrow for classes. I'd suggest you get to bed." The students scattered, off to do what they were told, but the mysterious and mischievous Miss Draekova hesitated, and Draco Malfoy and Hadrian Potter paused a little closer to the dorms, not close enough to hear what was about to happen, but close enough to bid their new friend goodnight, when she came their way. The two boys struck up some idle and quiet chit-chat, while Loki Draekova commanded his attention, just by staying put.

"Thank you, again, Professor." Had she really kept him away from his own dormitories to say thank you one more? It seemed she hadn't, as she went on to say more.

"Dumbledore," though at his half-masked confusion, she continued with that smirk that he had seen with the aforementioned Headmaster pulling himself. "Dumbledore my godfather. Who, know me, and who knows you, just as equally. But that's not the only reason why I trust you." She then fell silent for reply, and Severus Snape could see she would speak no more on the trust she had for like in impenetrable steal enforced brick wall.

So Snape told her that the potion worked better when asleep, and to see Madame Pomfrey about the bruise. He didn't want to even know how she seemed to read his mind, which could be investigated later. He was able to have his own mental shields so strong that neither Dumbledore nor Voldemort could enter Snape's mind. And he hadn't felt his shields being prodded. He then wondered –as he entered his sanctuary of silence; his dark dorm- if it had anything to do with her vivid eyes. One second, they were an intense storm grey, as he saw at the Sorting; The most bright, and wild emerald green irises –not like Lilly Evans-Potter's sage-y green that had that hidden sea-glass blue undertone hidden, much like what Hadrian seemed to have- but jewel-Emerald. What was with that? That could also be inquired later, he thought, as he fell into a dreamless sleep. For once.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Slytherin Girl's Dormitories, Midnight

Loki Draekova {3rd Person Point of View}

Loki slept on her left shoulder, instead of on her back and sort of twisted to the right. That shoulder would probably be equally sore in the morning, as she drifted uneasily. As if sensing her discomfort of sleeping in a new place that wasn't close enough to her parents, where she could be lulled to sleep by their soothing mental links -Here, it was stretched, and unsatisfying. If she was lucky, her parents would have a mission in Scotland soon, so they could be close- Baskie showed up at her side, and the eleven year old curled up into the hellhound's semi-surprisingly warm fur. His deep and calm breaths drifted her to slumber, where she embraced the blackness with open arms. The shadows and she were friends after all.

Sleep bore no dreams for Loki that night; nor nightmares. She awoke refreshed, with Baskie still at her side. The minute traces of special-make gunpowder and vanilla rum that her father always smelled like made her smile in nostalgia. It wasn't an aged nostalgia, but nostalgia none-the-less. She silently slid her robes on, with the serpentine crest embroidered proudly on it, and snuck out of the dorm, as to not wake her roommates, Tracey, Daphne, Millicent, and Pansy. They were kind to her, didn't even ask about bloodlines, and all of the usual 'Pro Pure-Blood Society' questions. Just normal stuff. Favorite colour and foods. Hobbies, enjoyable books. {Cherry Red, Emerald Green, and Black; Fillet Mignon, Chicken Pot Pie, Pancakes, Pizza, fruity Salad Wraps w/ Raspberry Vinaigrette; Reading, Archery, Anything Musical; Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, Frankenstein, Bram Stoker's Dracula, (the small and repressed giggle at that one wasn't heard-) The Collected Tales and Poems of Edgar Allan Poe; respectively.

Slinking into the Commons Room like the good little snake she was, Loki saw a slightly tired Draco, and a wide-awake Hadrian. She greeted them with a sly smirk, and Baskie's cool nose pressed into the back of her hand. When explaining the need to visit Madam Pomfrey, Hadrian offered to go with her, then, he could make sure his friend was okay, and know how to get to the Hospital Wing.

"How well did the numbing draught Professor Snape gave you work, Loki?" Hadrian asked in the corridor outside of the Commons Room. She told him that her shoulder still hurt a little, and the draught worked as perfect as it could. He seemed a little more relieved at that, as he had just no idea how huge the bruise was. While silver usually burned, being slammed into thousand upon thousand year old silver hinges, was able to bruise her strong-boned shoulder just due to the force of which she was slammed, and the force upon which she hit the door hinge. It was stiff, as long as she didn't jostle it too much on the way to Madam Pomfrey, she would be okay.

Which didn't end well, when one Ronald Weasley slammed into that very shoulder once more. As much as a Daughter of her Father should be strong, Loki was still half her mother, who just didn't build muscle the same way. Men and woman can't build muscle the same in general, anyway. And Loki Rahu Draekova was only eleven year old dammit! She had very little muscle from any of the P90X3 she's done, and that's because her mother had her do a watered down kind of version. It was still the 'P90X' Program, just she wasn't allowed to do it with the full intensity planned on the program.

Back to her shoulder, the eleven year old (remember eleven, you psychos!) whimpered rather loudly, just short of a cry, and gripped Hadrian's right arm as she slouched over. Loki bit back a growl, and Baskie jumped in front of the two Slytherins before the redheaded Gryffindor could do anything. The hellhound snarled, and Ronald seemed to have some amount of confidence gained since the train incident, also judging by what happened after dinner, where Baskie couldn't be summoned. Before Weasley could do anymore, Baskie grew to about large wolf size, instead of medium dog sized, and opened his top two sets of eyes, canines like saber-teeth.

"Baskerville!" Loki says quietly, the unspoken command in her tone rendering the hellhound silent, and he turned like an excited pup, shrinking down to the size of one. He again looked like a normal one-set-of-eyes pup, except with his normal bloody irises.

Hadrian and Loki then continued a bit more hastily towards Madam Pomfrey. When hearing what had occurred, the Medi-Witch tsk'd, and when she saw the bruise she gasped. While she didn't scold Loki for not coming to her immediately, she did tell the first year to come back as soon as possible if something similar happened again.

"As it probably will," Loki muttered under her breath. Madam Pomfrey didn't hear her as she went and got something to help the healing process of the nasty blue and purple mark.

Loki and Hadrian walked quickly to the Great Hall, and enjoyed cheese Danish and Belgium Waffles.

"Good Danish, Loki?" Draco teased.

"See this Danish, Draco?" Loki replied with a little bite of the Danish rolling around her tongue. He nodded, and she continued, "I am going to marry this Danish- Write that down." She made a hand gesture, followed by shoving the rest of it un-lady-like into her mouth as Draco and Hadrian dragged her from the table, towards their first class –Transfiguration- fifteen minutes early.

"Where are we going? Ow… Shoulder!" She questioned, then exclaimed as she moved her still healing –albeit sped up- injured joint, as they moved hastily through the vast halls.

"We do have classes, Loki,"

…Duh. She knew that. Of course she did.