Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all other characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and this version of the Mask belongs to New Line Cinemas; I'm just using them for this story.

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Harry Potter and the Mask of Loki

"So… how'd the wedding go after Harry and I left it?" Mark asked, looking over at Ginny where she was lying on the ground beside him as they stared up at the night sky from a hill outside Ottery St Catchpole. Mark had started there with the intention of taking Ginny back home, but they'd gone past a small wood that Ginny had fond memories of from when she was younger, and she'd insisted that Mark land there so she could have a look around. Currently the two of them were just lying down and staring up at the sky, Ginny lost in the beauty of the stars above them.

(Mark, of course, was looking at Ginny; whether Harry or Mark, both of them far preferred her to stars any day of the week)

Ginny started out of her train of thought and looked over at Mark curiously.

"How do you know Harry left?" she asked, looking at him in confusion.

"Well, he wasn't there when I got to the party-" Mark began.

"For all you knew, he might just have never even shown up in the first place," Ginny pointed out, as she looked critically at Mark. "Why would you automatically assume he left?"

Then her face became even more serious as she looked at him. "And why would you even ask about what happened after he left? I mean, I know you're friends, but we don't even know where he is anymore."

Mark looked briefly like a fish out of water for a moment or two, but in the end Ginny just sighed and turned away from him, sighing again as she lay down; evidently, she'd decided to disregard her earlier question for reasons of her own.

"Why do I even bother with finding out anything about guys?" she asked, the question apparently directed at nobody in particular. "Men have to be the most bloody confusing creatures on the planet. I mean, I wait five years for him to even notice me, then he leaves me so he can be the hero, then I go and start falling for a guy who won't even tell me how he can do all the stuff he can do…"

Her hand flew to her mouth as she shot up, looking over at Mark with a sheepish expression on her face that somehow also managed to convey horror at the same time.

"Sorry," she began to say, in that rapid, desperate manner that Mark/Harry had always found somehow attractive about her; so stubborn one minute, and so eager to apologise to those she… cared for… the next. "I didn't mean that the way it sounded; I-"

"No, it's fine," Mark said, waving a dismissive hand. "I acknowledge that my… lack of information… about how I can do what I do can be annoying at times. I'm just not really all that used to the company of people; I spent quite a few of the early years of my life hidden away until I could learn how to control my powers. My parents were worried that I might be a danger to myself and others otherwise."

Inwardly Mark was already trying to think of a few more details of his background to tell Ginny; if nothing else, he'd need a decent explanation as to how he possessed these abilities. Until the horcruxes were gone, he couldn't tell anyone about the Mask; if information like that fell into the hands of the Death Eaters, they'd all be in trouble…

"Oh," Ginny said, simply. Then she looked at Mark curiously. "If you don't mind me asking, how can you…"

"Do all that stuff?" Mark said, smiling slightly at her; he'd come up with a basic idea, he just hoped that it would pass muster. "Well, it's a funny story really; my father was working on a potion to enhance a wizard's own natural powers- kind of like this muggle drug called steroids, but without any addiction or side-effects- when I was about four, and, well, he accidentally gave me some- the man is brilliant, but he's so bloody absent-minded it's unbelievable…"

"So… then what?" Ginny asked, looking at Mark curiously. "You're saying that a potion your dad made gave you these powers? But I thought you said it just enhanced wizard powers, not give you the powers of… I don't know what…"

"True, but he was never intending the potion to be given to a four-year-old, was he?" Mark pointed out, raising a hand to stop Ginny's little speech. "The effect on me was more… dramatic than anyone was expecting; suffice it to say, things got more than a bit out of hand, and I ended up with all these powers and- for reasons nobody's ever been able to figure out- a bit of a facial disfiguration which necessitates me wearing this mask to help keep my powers under control."

"Oh; it's got some kind of Negating Charm on it?" Ginny asked, looking over at him inquiringly.

"Pretty much, yeah," Mark said, shrugging.

The two of them then just lay back and looked up at the stars for a few minutes, and then Mark sighed and looked back at Ginny.

"Look, if it makes any difference, I'm sorry about avoiding your earlier queries about Harry," he said, as Ginny turned to look back at him. "It's just, well, he asked me not to talk about it; he'd prefer you just focused on trying to make a life for yourself until he's done what he needs to do."

"Bloody heroic idiot…" Ginny muttered to herself, so low that Mark could barely hear her.

Then her mind seemed to process the rest of what Mark had said, and she looked at him eagerly.

"You've seen Harry?" she asked. "I mean, you've seen him after he left the party?"

"Yeah, I did," Mark said, nodding at her even as the part of him that was purely Mark was slightly hurt by her eagerness. After all, he was here, and Harry wasn't here…

"He was just leaving the party when I showed up, actually," Mark continued, deciding he'd worry about Ginny's continued eagerness to learn about Harry later; she was with Mark now, and that was what mattered. "I asked him what was going on, he said something about needing to 'attend to business', and then asked me to keep in touch with him and let him know how things went. He just told me to send him an owl or something; no real ideas where he is now, unfortunately."

"Ah," Ginny said, as her face fell slightly. Evidently, she'd been hoping that Mark might be able to put her in contact with Harry sometime…

"Anyway," Mark said, deciding he'd prefer they got back to a more immediate topic, "what happened with Ron and Hermione, anyway? I mean, after I gave them that little 'hint' during my singing number, I would hope they're starting to get the message; am I right?"

Ginny just rolled her eyes. "You really don't know these guys, do you?" she asked, as she glanced over at her strange new… friend. "They enjoyed the dance, yeah, but then after reading this letter Harry left us, they somehow ended up arguing about Ron's headache from drinking too much firewhiskey, and then I really don't know what they did next, but I get the distinct impression that it wasn't pretty…"

"Oh God…" Mark groaned, as he clasped his forehead with one hand and lay back down on the grass. "What do we have to do to make them get the point, lock them up or something?"

Ginny was about to agree, but then a thought occurred to her and she looked over at Mark with a slight smile on her face.

"Or maybe we could just set them up?" she asked, a wicked grin on her face.

"Wha?" Mark said, looking at her in confusion.

"Well, you're pretty good with music, unless last night was a bit of a fluke?" Ginny asked. Mark nodded, and she continued. "Then couldn't we get them to a certain place at a certain time, and you give them a song that makes them see that they need to stop being such total idiots and get together?"

Mark smiled slightly as he looked at Ginny.

"That might just work…" he said thoughtfully, as he stroked his chin thoughtfully.

"So you'll help me organise it?" Ginny asked.

"Naturally!" Mark said, smiling over at her widely. "Let's cover the obvious details of where and when first; I'll take charge of what song on my own, and you can worry about getting them there since you know them better."

"Seems fair enough," Ginny said, nodding in agreement. "What do you have in mind?"

"Well, I was thinking the Leaky Cauldron in about, oh…" Mark paused, reached into his pocket, pulled out a small black book, flicked through it, and then glanced back at Ginny. "…a week's time? I'd make it sooner, but I have some… family matters to attend to."

Ginny looked slightly disappointed, but then just smiled at Mark reassuringly.

"Yeah, that sounds OK," she said, patting him reassuringly on the shoulder. "Just one thing… you sure that Tom won't mind about us using his pub for this?"

Mark shrugged. "I've got a bit of cash to splash; I'm sure I'll manage to find enough to make up for any inconvenience that might be caused," he said reassuringly, as he stood up, stretched briefly, and then held out a hand to haul her to her feet. "Anyway, I'd better be taking you home; any later, and your parents may be wondering why you're so tired in the morning."

Ginny nodded, a slightly regretful expression in her eyes; it was obvious that, like Mark, she wasn't ready for this night to end just yet.


A few minutes later, Mark's carpet had stopped outside Ginny's window, and the young redhead had clambered back into her room before turning back to look at Mark, who was now dressed in a more contemporary outfit; black leather coat, blue jeans and a blue shirt.

"Thanks for the night," she said to him after a moment's pause, smiling at him. "I had a good time."

"Yeah, me too," Mark replied, grinning back at her. "I'll see in a week at the Cauldron; I'll let you know if anything comes up beforehand, OK?"

Ginny smiled and pecked him briefly on the lips.

"Sure," she said, as she pulled back. "See you in a week."

As Mark flew away on the carpet, Ginny groaned and collapsed back onto the bed, her hands over her eyes in despair.

"God, what is the matter with me…" she muttered to herself. Even after spending an entire evening with Mark Tiller… even after talking to him about all kinds of topics… even after seeing all kinds of exotic locations with him by her side… even after kissing him, for crying out loud….

She still couldn't get Harry Potter out of her mind!

He's gone! she mentally berated herself. He told you to make a life for yourself while he was away, and you're doing that! STOP THINKING ABOUT HIM!

But even as she thought that, she knew that she couldn't.

And she just wished she knew why even Mark's kisses made her think of Harry…


Several miles away, and not much more than half an hour later, Mark landed in Dumbledore's office, stepped off the carpet (Which vanished as soon as his feet were on the ground), reached up, grabbed the line at the back of his head where the Mask closed over his face, pulled at it…

And then, after a brief whirl of green energy, Harry Potter was once again standing in the middle of the room. Off in one corner, Fawkes gave a brief trill of welcome as Harry tossed the Mask onto the desk, and Harry smiled at the phoenix. Fawkes may not be much in the way of company if you wanted to have a conversation about something, but he was company, and right now that was all Harry asked for.

"Hi there," he said, walking over to the phoenix and stroking the bird's chest feathers, Fawkes trilling gently at the contact. Dumbledore's portrait was currently empty, so they had the office to themselves, a fact of which Harry was grateful; he hadn't wanted to bring the headmaster into his now-rather-complex romantic life. "Good night?"

Fawkes tilted his head in what could almost be a nod, and Harry smiled back at the phoenix.

"I just wish it could always be this easy, you know?" he said, as he sat down in a nearby chair and looked up at Fawkes. "I mean, all the power at my disposal thanks to this thing-" he reached over and picked up the Mask, staring at its blank eyes for a few moments before turning back to look at Fawkes, "and I still don't have any way of working out who 'R.A.B.' is."

Fawkes looked at Harry for a few moments, and then, much to Harry's surprise, he flew up to a nearby bookshelf, tugged a book out with his beak, caught it in his talons as it slipped off the shelf, and then flew back towards the increasingly puzzled Harry, dropping it into his hand.

"What the…?" Harry muttered, as he glanced at the book's title- apparently it was the Hogwarts Year Book- 197-, opened it at random…

And his eyes widened as he saw the name written on the page in front of him, leaping onto his eyes as though it had been fired from a gun to emblazon itself across his mind and brain.

Regulus Artemis Black.


AN: I put a on the last letter because I'm not entirely sure when Regulus would have left Hogwarts, save that it should be some time in around the late sixties or early to mid-seventies, if he served under Voldemort in the early days and we assume that Voldemort 'died' in 1981