On Saturday 24th June, a week after Loki's arrival, shortly after breakfast, Hogwarts School fell strangely silent, and the resident teaching staff began to look forward to a well deserved summer break. Hermione, still ensconced in her tower room, watched the students depart regretfully. Some would be leaving for the last time, and she had missed the opportunity to bid them goodbye and good luck.
Following his ice bath, Loki had continued to improve, under Hermione's care. Today he was seated in her sitting room, permitted out of bed to meet with a visitor – his former mentor Salazar Slytherin. Hermione had been fascinated to learn that the young man she had initially thought to be around her own age was actually over 1000 years old, and that Slytherin had spent some considerable time on Asgard following his disagreement with the other three Founders – magical travel between the realms being a much simpler matter in those days. During this time on Asgard the notable wizard had been asked by the All Father to help with his mageling son. Delighted with the boy's burgeoning talent, Slytherin had continued to mentor Loki until he was old enough to begin a warrior's training.
The two mages had been deep in conversation for at least two hours now, and Hermione had long since given up trying to keep up with the conversation – she had initially been annoyed by this, but consoled herself with the fact that both men had a thousand years worth of reading time over her. Instead, she looked forward to picking Loki's brains at a later date, when the supercilious Slytherin was not there to sneer at her ignorance.
Returning to her sitting room, she noticed that Loki was starting to flag a little, although she had never seen him so animated. Clearly he had thoroughly enjoyed himself. She turned to the portrait, deciding that the tactful approach might be the most productive.
"Lord Slytherin, it is most kind of you to visit Prince Loki this morning, clearly it has done him a great deal of good. Unfortunately, as his physician, I must insist that he rest now. This is the first day that he has been allowed out of bed, and it is important that he doesn't over tax himself." Loki looked mulish - he was adorable Hermione thought, but nonetheless she hardened her heart and escorted him firmly back to the bedroom.
"I don't know why you want me back in your bed again... I'm not even weary. You do realise that I need less sleep than you mortals?" It was good that he was finally up to speaking to her, but the tightness of his jaw bespoke his discomfort still so Hermione refused to be drawn.
"Let me take your shirt off please, I need to check your back..." Loki raised an eyebrow.
"First you try to get me into your bed, now you wish to remove my clothing. Are all the ladies of Midgard so forward?" The spark in his green eyes was new, and welcome, clearly he couldn't resist teasing her, making her blush. Hermione was woefully afraid that he had probably succeeded. Her hands went to the buttons of his black shirt, but she hesitated. What was it about this impossible man that made every action potentially erotic? Earlier that day she had caught herself simply watching him moving around her room. Even sore and stiff, he moved with a dancer's grace. Blushing she had turned awkwardly away pretending that she had not been staring.
Having managed to unbutton his shirt without making a complete fool of herself, Hermione had to stretch up to slide the fabric off his surprisingly broad shoulders – why did he have to be so tall. Carefully vanishing the bandages she was pleased to see that the deep raw wounds were healing cleanly, with an inhuman speed. She sternly reminded herself that this was not some handsome mortal man she was flirting with. This creature before her was almost immortal – likely to live for thousands more years, and when in full possession of his abilities, wielded a terrifying magical power far beyond anything a mortal wizard was capable of. She was playing with fire without a doubt, and needed to take herself firmly in hand. "Liar" said a little voice in her head "what you really want is for him to take you in hand – and those hands..." She did have to admit that he had beautiful hands – oh dammit – he did it again! Fortunately he was now able to move a little easier, able to accomplish some tasks without help – something for which Hermione was very grateful "Lying again" said the irritating voice. He still needed help with anything that involved raising his arms though, and his broken ribs meant that moving and breathing still had to be done with some care.
With this in mind, Hermione firmly ushered her reluctant patient back to bed.
x-x-0-x-x
Late the following morning, Hermione was helping Loki to get dressed. As she focussed on transfiguring another shirt for him out of one of hers, he was looking into the mirror opposite.
"Hermione"
"Yes Loki"
"Would you mind doing something for me...?" She looked up enquiringly – he pulled a face at his reflection, "I don't suppose you can do something with my hair? It's beginning to feel positively matted, and if I leave it like this, I'm probably going to have to cut it all off" he looked down at her with a self mocking smile "and I have big ears – so I look terrible with my hair too short".
Hermione giggled and walked around him, eyeing his black hair dubiously – there was absolutely nothing wrong with his ears she noticed. "It certainly needs a wash – and could probably do with a trim – do you usually wear it this long?"
"Not if I can help it – it has a distressing tendency to curl – and I was reckoned effeminate enough on Asgard, without a head of long flowing curls." There was a bitter twist to his mouth now, which made something in Hermione's stomach clench in sympathy.
"I cannot imagine how anyone with at least one functioning eye or half a brain could ever describe you as effeminate..." Oh God, did she really just say that? Although it was certainly true.
He smiled wryly "And I thank you for that, but where I come from magic is a woman's art. Not that it got me out of a warrior's training too, although I was never expected to amount to much. I might be half my broth... Thor's weight but never hindered me in battle. What I lack in bulk I make up for in speed. And if the worst comes to the worst I at least had the brains to get us out of trouble."
Hermione smiled, calling Kreacher to her. "Could you bring me the large stone basin and pedestal that stand in my classroom please Kreacher, if it isn't too heavy for you?" The little elf bowed so low that his long ears nearly brushed the ground.
"It is Kreacher's pleasure Mistress Hermione". With a snap of his long fingers, the requested bowl appeared. There were other bowls that she could have used, but this one had the advantage that, when activated with a tap of a wand, it would remain magically filled with clean warm water until closed the same way. It was perfect for washing potions equipment – and hair in this case. Settling Loki in a chair, with a folded cloth to pad his back, she tried to get a brush through his hair before she washed it. Unfortunately, as she had suspected, it was in a bad state, and would require some extra help. Going into her bathroom, she retrieved a number of bottles, which her "victim" eyed somewhat nervously. "Don't look so worried", she reassured him "this won't hurt a bit"
Taking the cork from the first bottle, she poured a small amount of an odourless oil onto the palm of her hand. Working it gently through the tangles, it soon helped to loosen them sufficiently for her to be able to work a brush, and finally a comb through. Combing his hair gently back into the warm water with her fingers, she set to work.
