Heartstrings and Bloodlines

Chapter 2

Tony would have spent the whole Christmas holiday in his rooms in Hogsmeade if Obie hadn't come and found him and dragged him back to London.

Tony did not need to be reminded of his parents, of the home he had grown up in. He refused to stay in the mansion and instead took over the top floor of the Stark Spellworks building, on the corner of Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley. He poked around in the shop that occupied the ground and first floors, and the second and third floors where the actual magic was done, before retreating to the fourth and continuing his own experiments.

"It's good to see you take an interest in the more commercial side of the business," Obadiah said, when he found Tony poking around in a display of talking watches. "But relax. It's the holidays. Let's go out and do something fun; whatever you want."

"I want to be back in Hogsmeade finishing off the new wand design. The current one's getting a bit beat up. I won't be able to relax until I know I have a backup ready."

"Do you ever relax, Tony?" Obie patted Tony's left forearm, where he knew the boy kept his wand in a secure holster under his sleeve. "It'll be fine. It's not normal for a boy your age to be working all the time. Come on, I'll take you to a Quidditch game, or out for pizza. Just say the word."

Tony wanted to respond that it wasn't normal for a fourteen year old boy to have billions of galleons, a successful line of magical multitools and a superintelligent jarvey. It wasn't normal for a boy to have killed a cursed Hungarian Horntail with a broken wand and survived thanks to a breakthrough in wand technology he made along the way. It wasn't normal to hate your father even though he was dead and your mother for dying.

But he knew there was no point with Obie. So instead he said, "Quidditch is only fun when I'm up there on a broom, and I get quite enough of that at school. As for pizza, order in and I'll be in my workshop."

And he fled.

"Control your players, Stark!" Steve yelled as he dropped to the ground after calling a time out.

"Control yours, Rogers!" Tony shot back, pointing at the now soaking wet Thor.

"Odinson...Thor was only fulfilling his duties as a Beater! It's Loki who started spellcasting!"

"No, what Thor was doing was harrassment! Loki was defending himself! That was a clear blatching foul!" Tony strode up to the (of course taller, they're always taller) Gryffindor keeper.

"Then why didn't it get called? No, that was perfectly clean Beater play!"

"A little overenthusiastic to crush his brother's head in, don't you think?"

"Only because Loki was cheating!"

"Prove it."

Tony and Steve stood toe to toe, glaring at each other. Thor and Loki also looked hard at each other for a long moment.

"I'm sorry, Brother," Thor said then. "Perhaps Stark is right. I should not have been so set on hitting you. This is only a game."

Loki spent a moment looking suspicious, then sighed. "That may be true, but I can't fault you for focusing your attention on the Seeker. I am the most important piece on the board." He smiled slightly mockingly at Thor. "If you're having trouble with your broom, I can understand why you would assume it was me. I have done such things often enough in the past. But I would not jeopardize a real game that way."

Thor patted his brother on the back, dampening his green Quidditch robes. "Then we are agreed. I will forgive you the drenching, since it was in defense. Captain! Let us continue the game."

Steve continued to glare at Tony for a moment, then turned to look at Thor. "Is your broom behaving now?"

"It does seem to be working as well as it has been of late. It is somewhat battered. I shall ask my father to buy me a new one."

The Gryffindor captain looked thoughtful, then nodded. "I'm ready to continue the game if you are," he told Stark.

Tony scowled. "All right," he agreed finally. "Let's have this out properly. No fouls and no casting. Got it, Odinsons?"

They nodded.

The game began again.

It was fierce, even more so than usual between the Gryffindors and the Slytherins. There were many goals attempted. Sif and Rhodey were both excellent chasers, speed, dexterity, and solid throwing ability all around. The big seventh year who was Slytherin keeper had trouble keeping track of them, so they got several goals. But Natasha had a knack for getting the Quaffle back, especially when she coordinated with Vanko, an extremely skilled and somewhat brutal beater. They'd known each other before Hogwarts, played together as children, and it showed.

Once she'd gotten the Quaffle, she tended to pass to Tony, who'd take the heat and make the run down the pitch. He tinkered with his own broom most often, which meant it was often faster, but it also tended to do unexpected things. He'd had to fix it in midair more than once. Rogers could stop Stark's shots more often than not, but he had more trouble with Romanoff's - Rogers was good, but if he didn't see the Quaffle approach, he couldn't stop it. Nat liked to shoot from difficult angles.

They were even at four goals each when the Snitch was spotted.

The Gryffindor Seeker, Hogun, was good, but Loki was better. Loki spotted the Snitch first, high, off to the left of one of the goals, and sped after it. Hogun was on his heels immediately. Loki was fast, but the Snitch zigged downwards. Loki dropped, catching it, before Hogun slammed into him, unable to stop in time.

Loki kept hold of the Snitch, and straightened out his broom's flight well above the ground. There was cheering, and not just from the Slytherins. It had been a spectacular catch.

As they all touched down, Tony clapped Loki on the shoulder. "Not bad, Odinson," he said, grinning. "We might just keep you around."

Loki grimaced and rubbed his shoulder - Tony had hit the forming bruise where Hogun had run into him. But he couldn't help smiling as the Slytherin captain turned away, walking toward the locker rooms. It felt good to win, for once. It felt good to best his brother.

The Slytherin Quidditch team walked companionably into the locker rooms, heading for their usual corners. Loki was just removing his outer robes when he heard a strangely high shriek from the corner behind him, where Tony was. Loki turned with a smirk on his face, wondering what kind of prank would make Tony Stark shriek and who had dared to pull it.

There was a humongous snake uncurling itself from the impossibly small confines of Tony's locker.

Tony pulled his wand out of his left sleeve - it was an odd looking, complex and angular thing, unlike any wand that Loki had ever seen; Loki had never seen it from so close before - and yelled "Protego!"

The snake snorted and flicked its tongue against the resulting shield.

"That's not going to do much good, tasty little thing," it hissed, and slithered around Stark, its head now behind the inventor. He turned, moving the shield to face the snake's head, but the enormous reptile was now encircling him.

Two of the Slytherin team had gone to get help. Vanko and Romanov were looking on with wands drawn and grim expressions. Word must have somehow gotten to the Gryffindor locker room because Thor and Steve burst in.

Natasha cast some kind of hex at the thing, and it just bounced off the green-black scales. "Annoying girl," it muttered, and threw its tail at her. She jumped out of the way. The beast reared back its head, preparing to strike at Tony.

"Wait!" Loki called. "Why are you doing this?"

The snake stopped, blinked, and stared at him.

"What is it to you?" the beast asked finally.

"What it is to me, you ignorant creature, is that he is Tony Stark. Heir to Stark Spellworks and more genius than his father. As much as I may dislike him personally, I will gain much by saving him. Too much to pass up; Tony Stark owing me his life." Loki frowned at the snake. "And what do you get by killing him? What does a being like you want from life?"

"Only a shady spot and a steady supply of goats. Unfortunately it's not up to me," the snake said, blinking, then lining up again for another strike at Stark, who was casting frantically, but nothing offensive seemed to be getting through its hide.

"Why not?" Loki asked, and the snake shook its head and looked at Loki again.

"The Imperius Curse."

"What are your instructions?"

The snake fought to turn its glassy eyes back to Loki. "I am to kill or injure Tony Stark, but under no circumstances to damage his wand."

"If I free you, what would you do?"

"Run," it answered. "There are far too many wizards here."

Loki had little time in which to consider.

He pointed his wand. "Finite!" he cried, and the snake's eyes brightened and filled with fear. It slithered in the direction of the exit.

Thor stood in its way. The huge sixth year blasted it with some sort of energy spell, reminiscent of fiendfyre but bluish. The serpent reared back, coils falling with a deep thud, and it twitched, struggling to get back up. With a roar, Thor stabbed it in the eye with his broomstick. Loki looked away.

Behind him, Tony was standing, looking slightly shaken behind his cocky grin and the large motions he adopted. Come to think of it, excess energy due to fear could explain Tony's behavior most days.

"Thanks, Odinsons. I've taken down giant reptiles alone before but it's not something I've ever wanted to make a habit of. Dragon hunting is entirely too much work." The inventor moved forward to slap Loki on the back gratefully.

Loki put on an unaffected air. "It's nothing personal, we just don't have time to break in a new Quidditch captain or chaser before the next game."

Tony grinned. "Right, right. Nothing to do with how fabulously handsome I am. You know you'd miss me."

"Hardly," Loki replied. He turned to see how the others were faring.

Thor and Natasha were staring, gape-mouthed. Sif looked rather ill.

"Loki, was that...?" she stammered. "Was that...parseltongue?"

Loki froze.

Thor frowned. "I didn't know you had such an ability. It is very rare, isn't it? Well, you were always exceptional, Brother." Thor attempted a weak half-smile but even he couldn't miss the aura of dread that permeated the air.

"Very rare," Loki said, barely loud enough to be audible.

"It's only ever been recorded in dark wizards," Natasha said, having regained control of her face and looking at Loki appraisingly.

"Specifically," Loki continued, narrowing his eyes, "only in Salazar Slytherin and his descendants." He looked up at Thor. "There is nothing like that in the lineage that our parents are so proud of. But then...there's never been a Slytherin in the family before, has there, Thor?" Loki's eyes burned bright with new suspicion. "I have always been...different, is that not true?"

Thor looked away, but then back up to Loki determinedly. "Perhaps so, but you are my brother. Nothing will change that. We will find out what is happening and we will face it together."

Loki couldn't take in Thor's words, not with the chaos that was going on in his head. Parselmouth. Dark wizard. Descendant of Salazar. No wonder he felt so at home in Slytherin house, while his oaf of a brother sat at Gryffindor table like a long-planted tree.

"So what did it say?"

Loki snapped out of his bitter introspection at Stark's words, but for a moment he couldn't form a reply.

"The snake. What did it say to you in its snaky little language?"

Loki nearly smiled at that. "It was sent to kill you, obviously. Well, if it could without damaging your wand."

"What spell was on it that you ended?"

"Imperius Curse. Whoever did it apparently didn't bother to provide a cover story. Didn't expect there to be a Parselmouth around to ask questions." Loki laughed bitterly.

"Whoever did it? It was just giving out information and you didn't think to ask who is out to steal my wand?" Tony shook his head.

"My pardon, my concern was for your immediate health." Loki shot him a bored look. "Perhaps my priorities were a bit out of order."

"And it's dead now, thanks to your overenthusiastic brother." Stark looked very put out.

"Indeed." Loki rolled his eyes. The carnage was quite impressive, and there was a crowd gathering around the huge snake corpse now sprawled across the locker room. The two Slytherins slipped out the back to continue their conversation.

"So my wand. That's what they're after." Tony contemplated the wand in his hand, and then slid the strange angular contraption back into its arm holster. "But how were they intending to get it?"

Loki thought. This was a puzzle. "Someone would have brought that beast down before you were killed," said the longer-haired boy. "They seem a competent enough wizard that death by giant reptile was probably not their intent. The whole wizarding world knows that you singlehandedly brought down a cursed Hungarian Horntail when you were thirteen. Still, you're very lucky not to have landed yourself in the hospital wing."

Enlightenment spread itself across Tony's face.

"The hospital wing. I'd be separated from the rest of Slytherin House, just waiting for someone to come along and steal my wand, maybe finish me off once they've done that. Well, they've failed. I'm not going there now."

There was a mischievous gleam in Loki's eye. "But you do want to find out who it is that is trying to kill you, yes?"

"That would be ideal, yes. Are you suggesting I spring their trap?"

"I'm suggesting we," Loki said, setting a hand on Tony's shoulder, "set a trap for them."

Tony looked at the older boy, his eyebrows lifting in appraisal, and his mouth gave in to an interested smile.