Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or settings from Thor or Harry Potter, nor do I own the reminiscent scenes of Loki.

A/N: What a lovely turn-out! Thanks for the few that reviewed, it was much appreciated! :D Now I present to you, your infamous God of Mischief, Loki Laufeyson, as promised. Enjoy! -laura.

The battle ensued, taking several turns for the worst. Frost Giants of all sizes multiplied left and right. They brought attacks one after the other. The warriors all had different strengths, most of all different weaknesses against these Giants.

It wasn't until Volstagg yelled 'Don't let 'em touch you!' that they realized that they were not on the winning side. It was a lost cause, a losing battle that the God of Thunder did not realize.

Thor continued on, being sure to take heed of this warning, but knew he was not an exception. Mjolnir, his magnificent hammer, could handle any blows even against the largest of the Frost Giants.

Loki, Thor's brother and the God of Mischief, understood this warning very clearly, but did not abide by it, accidentally. He struck the Frost Giant, only to have the beast take him by the arm, reducing his armor to nothingness, crippling away from his skin.

The Frost Giant stared at him. The God did not cry out in pain, but simply watched as his skin turned frost-bitten and the ashy blue like his own. Loki looked up at him in horror.

'Am I cursed?' he asked.

'No,' the Frost Giant replied, responding with the voice of the All-Father.

Loki closed his eyes quickly, only to realize he was no longer in Jotunheim, but in Asgard, and wielding the Casket of Ancient Winters. He could touch it without being harmed. He could hold its powers in his own hands. Why?

He set the artifact down. 'What am I?'

'You are my son,' Odin, the All-Father and his own, replied, his voice carrying throughout the quarters.

Loki felt his heart drop. He turned around to face his father, who was still upon his steps. 'What more than that?'

The Frost Giant that lived within Loki was draining from his face, letting the God of Mischief return.

The God's eyes shot open. Everything was clouded, the grayness of the sky not helping matters a single bit. His sight tried to cooperate with the brightness, but he kept feeling consistently blinded.

And, there was a throbbing in his chest he just couldn't surpass as he tried to take his first few breaths. It was a nauseating feat, but nonetheless the deeper breaths he took, that pain would weaken.

He rolled over onto the palm of his hand and pushed himself up, now in a sitting position. Loki grumbled.

He was almost sure that this was equal to the pain that materialized a few hours earlier with his half-brother. It was then that he remembered what happened. The worm-hole. He was dangling off the end of the broken Bifrost, Thor and his father both holding him up. He nearly destroyed Jotunheim, but still did not receive the gratitude of Odin. He was better off here, wherever he was.

Loki gazed around at his surroundings. Several signs and figures stood all around him. He looked up at one, reading Hog's Head. Although he had been quite disoriented, he was keen on his sense of being watched by things other than the square buildings.

He stood, his senses escaping him for a moment, but steadying himself and being clear of his actions. He did not want to show any source of weakness among whomever was awaiting. Nevertheless, as usual, it was nothing to fear of, for he was in Midgard by the looks of things.

There had been several mortals staring at him from the windows or doorways, and he had been in the middle of the cobblestone street, shopkeepers all around being disrupted from starting up shop. Most of them held a stick close to them or pointed at him. It was very strange coming from mortals because the last time he had been in Midgard they had not advanced in warrior ship or magic, but with things like guns or lasers.

Loki cast a projection, a simple doppelganger of himself standing in his place, with a quick flick of his hand and wrist.

"Hey!" shouted a older man to the left. "How did you bypass our barrier? Who are you?"

"Someone bring him inside, we must contact Albus!" another rang out.

"I got 'em."

A very large man stepped out onto the street tried to grip his arm, only to have the God disappear. The man and several others gasped, some of them quickly shut their doors. The whole street was beginning to turn into a ruckus, warning others, taking their chairs and stools back inside, and closing the shops back up.

"He disapparated!"

"How did he do it?"

"He might be a Death Eater, we must alert Albus now!"

Loki, who inevitably was in a back alley of the street, observed the panic. A small grin could have been seen upon his face. This was fun, something he hadn't seen since being King of Asgard, since having his quarrel with his brother and the Frost Giants and everyone else who might have been against him.

Without warning, a high pitched voice rang out all over. Through every crack and cranny, to the streets, to the Kingdom that was upon the hill, an older woman's voice reverberated. Loki would have lied if he thought the voice hadn't startled him a little bit. He looked around for any signs of a recorder, speakers even, or for the person herself as it sounded like the woman was directly above him.

"Attention all students of Hogwarts, Hogsmeade visits are banned until further notice. Anyone caught outside of the grounds, with the exception of authorized Quidditch practice, will be punished under the discretion of your High Inquisitor. From your dutiful High Inquisitor, Dolores Jane Umbridge."

A/N: Umbridge, you dirty bastard. How dare you lock up Hogsmeade. I was really jonesin' for some Butterbeer. What's a Ravenclaw to do now while end of the year finals are coming up? Gah!

Oh right, the story. Well, we've all come to the conclusion that yes, Umbridge is a dirty bastard. Not only in this fic, but all around evil, maniacal witch. Let's see if Loki can top that... Chapter three brought to ya soon. :)