Chapter 2
Harry let himself drift away from reality, concentrating on nothing but Loki's telepathic instructions and his target, Dudley. The sounds of the school playground faded into numb static as Loki's voice became the only noise perceptible to him.
"Look at Dudley, then look beyond him. Stare upon his form in both body and spirit, and then push yourself forward," Loki whispered.
He had told Harry that whilst there were many ways to invade someone's mind, this would be the easiest by far with him helping, also simplified by the fact he was only trying to intrude upon a weak-minded child who had no innate magic to fight off invasion. It was not a mortal method, but it was one Loki himself had been quite adept at using when he himself had been young.
It had taken him quite a while to learn as a child, but he could dramatically speed the process for Harry by doing the heavy lifting himself. There was also the matter of how much weaker a mortal mind was than that of an Asgardian.
Harry followed Loki's advice to the letter, piggybacking off the Asgardian's soul to perceive more than any human could, and when he moved forward, his body did not. A portion of his mind merged with Loki's lashed towards Dudley at amazing speed, colliding with his mind.
With Loki focusing on enhancing Harry's perception rather than instructing him, Harry might have had a difficult time trying to dominate Dudley's will. Luckily for him, he only needed to influence his mind.
Gathering all the hate he had for the boy, Harry manifested it into existence, imparting upon the Dudley the first thing that came to mind. This method was in no way delicate, relying on emotion, but it could work well in some instances.
Satisfaction flared within Harry as Dudley let out a scream of terror, no doubt a result of the wave of spiders he was currently imagining flood across his vision. All of Dudley's friends laughed at the fat boy, who was still screaming even though the weak illusion had undoubtedly dispersed by this point.
Later, when the excitement had died down, Dudley glared at the Harry, who promptly swallowed. If Dudley suspected his freakishness to be at hand, Harry would be in trouble with Vernon and Petunia, evidence or not.
'Well,' began Loki, speaking directly into Harry's mind. 'I suppose my next lesson should be self-defence.' He paused. 'I believe that my being torn apart may have limited my ability to plan things. Being torn apart does tend to have that effect.'
Harry was a quick learner, no doubt. Projecting your mind forward like that was no small feat for a human. From the ease with which Loki had managed to help Harry do it and see the world on a supernatural level, he thought that he might have already merged with the boy at least partially, making Harry's magic slightly Asgardian in nature. Now there was no chance of separation, not that there had been to begin with.
Whilst the magic of Asgard flowed through Harry, Loki suspected that his power levels were nowhere near that of an Asgardian if the fact that he had been exhausted by that small illusion was to say anything. Loki might be able to fix that in the future, though he really had no idea. It was completely unheard of for a being of his complexity to live within a mortal's mind.
He had hoped he would be able to channel his whole power through the boy, but it was apparently not to be. He could push his mental force into helping Harry perform a spell, but not his magical strength; that part was down to Harry. With him guiding Harry's magical, mental, and physical development, however, he was sure that he could make some changes for the better—like, for example, making him into an inhuman and immoral and preferably not completely insane psychopath.
If he wanted to ensure that the boy— and thus he—didn't die, the first area he would need to work on would be his personality. It would not take much of a push to turn an abused and neglected child into a cold-blooded and ruthless killer, and Loki spoke that from experience.
Dudley knowing the illusion had something to do with Harry had been an unpredicted gift. The boy would fear approaching Harry, being the coward he was, and would instead run to his parents, giving Harry a good amount of time to recharge. Physical magic tended to expend less energy than mental magic, and Loki was sure that with his guidance, Harry would have enough to kill the Dursleys.
The only thing stopping Harry from trembling in fear as he entered number four Privet Drive were the reassuring words of Loki echoing through his head. He attempted to close the door quietly, but Vernon had the ears of a bat where Harry's "mischief" was concerned and was already marching up to him.
'Don't let him touch you,' Loki mentally reminded Harry. 'You are in danger. Remember how he normally reacts to your magic? Well, though he is borderline retarded, even a blind pig—which would be much like him, now that I think about it—could've figured out that you were doing it on his son. And, much like the blind pig, he will be angry.'
"Boy!" Vernon screamed, spittle flying from his mouth. "Do you know what Dudley has just told me?!"
"No, sir," Harry said meekly.
"Why you lit—" Vernon began, but got no further as he moved his hand to grab Harry by the shoulder.
'Now,' Loki whispered. When Harry saw the obese man move, he was preparing himself to strike, gathering his anger and negative emotion towards Vernon. As his uncle's hand touched his shoulder, Harry rammed his hand towards him, holding it only a few inches from the man's stomach.
For a moment, magic coursed through Harry, and then he let out a scream as burning coldness scorched at his palm, but then it was gone and a burst of bright light lit up his vision. When his sight returned, Harry found himself staring upon his uncle slumped against the wall with his clothing slightly frosted over at the front.
Harry had released a blast of concussive magic that only worked for a short range. From what Loki had told him, the ice must have been a result of him performing the magic imperfectly, the leakage manifesting as coldness. He frowned. Loki had said it was normally heat.
'From the damage on the wall behind him and the blood leaking from his nose, I'm going to say he's most likely dead,' Loki said, no remorse in his tone as he interrupted Harry's thought. 'Well done—oh, I mean "oops."'
'Wh-what?' Harry asked, also speaking telepathically as he stared at the apparent corpse in horror.
A sigh echoed through Harry's mind. 'He. Is. Dead.'
'But I didn't mean to kill him!'
'In the wilderness a blind pig such as he was always going to be eaten by a greater predator, no matter how angry it was.' He paused. 'Perhaps we should stop using this analogy, unless you are particularly hungry.'
'No!'
'No, you're not going to eat him, or no, you don't want the analogy to stop? You humans are so confusing,' he said. 'Anyway, you hated him; he hated you. You were enemies, and you're meant to kill your enemies. It is not a bad thing to do, especially if you are merely a child acting in self-defence.' Loki sighed. 'I guess you're going to have to kill the others as well...'
'What?' demanded Harry. Killing one relative was bad enough.
'Pay attention to your surroundings, Petunia has already come in whilst we've been talking. Oh, now I can hear her sneaking up behind you. I would suggest defending yourself.'
Harry spun, magic already flaring within him as he caught sight of his aunt wielding a kitchen knife, but he wasn't quite fast enough, and his world became pain as the blade nicked at his shoulder.
This blast of magic was unintentionally more powerful, fuelled by Harry's panic, distress, and agony. The slightly longer range dispersed it, however, so that it hit with about the same impact as it had hit Vernon, but Petunia had lunged forward and was caught under the chin.
Harry could only watch in horror as his aunt's neck was snapped and she fell to the floor limply. Suddenly fatigue hit him like a brick and both Harry and Loki knew that one more attack would leave him collapsed.
'Pick up the knife,' urged Loki. At Harry's hesitance, the god's tone grew more desperate. 'Pick up the knife, Harry! Leaving any witnesses will be extremely bad for both us! You feared an orphanage, but you would rather spend the rest of your life in a jail cell!'
At this, conflict raged within Harry. He knew it was selfish, but there was no going back now. He had already accidentally killed his aunt and uncle. If he didn't kill Dudley as well, he might be responsible for not only his own death, but Loki's as well. He didn't want to let down the only person who had ever taught him anything. The only person who had ever shown him an ounce of kindness. Despite Loki's occasional impatience and constant apathy, he had helped Harry, and he liked him.
Loki's words echoing through his mind, Harry dropped to his knees and picked up the kitchen knife. It looked like a sword in his small hands. In that moment, Dudley came around the corner and froze. For a few seconds, Harry thought the boy would run away; instead, he seemed to instantly process his dead parents and charge at the one responsible.
And whilst he might've been smart enough to figure out what Harry had done, he was not smart enough to realise it was not a smart move to run into the pointy end of a knife.
Loki was stunned. 'He…he literally ran into your knife. Like some kind of blind pig. As many times as I've used that excuse, I've never seen it actually happen.' He paused. 'I suppose it is a bit more plausible when they only run into the knife once, rather than a dozen times in a row.'
Tears now streaming down his face as a barrier broke inside him, Harry fled the house without a final look back, clutching at his wound.
For a moment, Loki felt guilty. Even he had not been that young when he had killed his first man. He brushed any emotion away. In the end, this was all for Harry's own good.
Now the first part of his plan had been completed, Loki knew that his next objective was to train Harry to become more powerful, but what would come after that? With a combination of his time observing the world through Harry's eyes and further recalling his memories of being a spirit, he had noticed that he had been the victim of a temporal fracture, or, in other words, he had travelled through time.
Loki had lived for millennia, but time-travel was still something he was extremely careful to avoid, especially with amounts of time as large as this. Anything could go wrong, and for he knew a single paradox could collapse the universe—well, he hypothesised that it could, but couldn't know for sure, since the universe was yet to end.
This meant that until he got to a point beyond the time he had fallen from the Bifrost, Loki could not allow himself to be revealed to Asgard, the mortal world, or the previous version of himself.
Not having checked a calendar the last time he was here, Loki had no idea how long he would have to wait, but guessed that it would be under a decade. It shouldn't have been too much of an issue. By that point, Harry wouldn't have reached the end of puberty and thus would not be able to access his full potential. Being as wise as he was, Loki wouldn't have allowed his host to enter the world of gods for a few more years after that at least.
It was also at this point where if a physical form of him existed, he would find out. Loki pondered the ramifications of there being two of him at the same time who were actually capable of interacting with each other. He would have frowned if he wasn't only a spirit. In all honesty, he would most likely hate himself. After all, both of them couldn't rule.
