Chapter 17
The Great Hall of Hogwarts was filled with more talking than usual, partially due to the extra students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang who had been there since the start of the year, and partially due to the fact that the champions of the Tri-Wizard Tournament had been chosen the night before – and that wasn't to mention that one of them had been the thought-dead Harry Potter.
Everyone seemed to have a different conspiracy in mind as to what had happened. The theories of Dumbledore secretly training him returned, undoubtedly the most popular idea. The elderly wizard had apparently been training Harry specifically to compete in this, because a tournament for children would undoubtedly be the best way to show his power. While it was ridiculous, the other theories were more so.
The chatter was interrupted as the doors were thrown open with a thunder-like crash. All eyes were immediately upon them as a cloud of black smoke flooded through them, almost reaching the students tables before it was banished by a flick of Dumbledore's wand. A black-cloaked figure stood at the furthest point to which it had reached, its only discernible features neon green eyes gleaming from within a heavily-shadowed face.
A pale hand reached up and pulled back the hood, revealing handsome features that might have been mildly familiar to anyone who had known James and Lily Potter, and would've made anyone who had known Loki Odinson do a double-take. Almost anyone would have recognized the lightning bolt scar that sat upon his forehead, though.
Harry smirked. "I heard that I was invited."
'Damn,' he mentally murmured, staring out upon the silent crowd. 'I'm so bloody cool.'
'That you are,' Loki soothed with a slight snort, 'but you shall never rival the sheer awe one such as I am able to inspire.'
Anything Harry was going to say was cut off as Dumbledore got his feet, his skin pale. His mouth opened and closed for a few moments, his eyes wide, before he managed to regain his composure. "Mr Potter, I presume?" His tone was calm, but Harry could sense the myriad of emotions brewing within him.
"You presume correctly, Dumbledore."
"Resume your dinners, students!" he shouted over the rapidly rising din. "Mr Potter, if you would please follow me up to my office…."
Harry glanced around the room, taking in the shocked and awed faces. He was slightly surprised as he saw Maria sitting at one of the tables in a Beauxbatons uniform – he had almost forgotten she was there for the year. Looking back to Dumbledore, he nodded, and smiling brazenly, span on his heel, confidently striding towards Dumbledore's office, the location of which he had no idea of.
Excited chatter arose behind him as he exited the hall and waited outside the door for Dumbledore, who followed him a few seconds later and began to guide him up the castle. He glanced back at Harry a few times to ensure he was still following him, but otherwise didn't say anything.
'No eye-contact,' Loki reminded him. 'We don't want him to attempt to get into our head, lest I be forced to...deal with him.'
Harry hummed in affirmation, but made no further noise, concentrating on his preparations in case the situation went sour. A man of Dumbledore's calibre was not one to be trifled with, whether or not the wizarding world thought him to be benevolent. While Harry and Loki thought that he most likely meant well, it was never wise to trust people based on reputation alone – a lesson he hoped that the rest of the wizards hadn't learnt; having trust and reverence based on something he did as a baby would be useful, to say the least.
Finally they came upon a statue of a gargoyle on one of the higher floors, Loki silently archiving Dumbledore's murmured comment of, "Ice mice," which caused the statue to leap aside, revealing a circular staircase ascending towards a room above.
Taking Dumbledore's lead, Harry followed him up the stairs and into the office above. It was unlike any he had ever seen, with all manners of strange objects covering its shelves, accompanied by ancient-looking tomes and a fiery bird which Harry guessed was a phoenix. He mentally noted to avoid that; who knew how it would react to one of Jotun blood?
After each sinking into a seat at the desk, the two wizards faced each other, Harry being careful to stare at the spot just between Dumbledore's eyebrows rather than actually making eye-contact. He promptly decided that he wouldn't be the one to break the silence, and he could wait forever. Well, 5,000 years, although he might need to eat before that point….
Dumbledore peered over his half-moon spectacles and finally said, "I thought you dead, Mr Potter. When the protections" – he glanced over to a shelf for a moment – "at Privet Drive fell and I arrived to the scene of your dead relatives with you nowhere in sight, it was impossible not to think the worse." His tone was full of sorrow, but with someone as experienced as him, Harry knew there was a risk that he was faking it, even if it seemed incredibly genuine. "Would you mind telling me what happened that day, Harry?"
He looked down at the floor, years of tutoring by Loki allowing him to easily conceal the brief satisfaction that ran through him at the memory. Briefly, he contemplated making his eyes water, but soon threw the thought aside. While he didn't want Dumbledore to think he was a remorseless killer and mass criminal, he didn't want him to think he was a weakling. "It was some robbers," he began to explain with a slight frown, "they came in the front door after me, one of them had a knife, and the other had a bat." With a deep swallow, he continued, "I ran away, and I read about the Dursleys dying a few days later."
The uniqueness of Harry's magic would make it impossible for even Dumbledore to sense it had been used, unless he knew exactly what he was looking for, which he didn't.
Leaning back in his chair, Dumbledore let out a large breath. "I'm sorry that you had to go through that at such a young age." Harry could tell that he was slightly relieved, but by what? Perhaps that it had been muggles to kill the Dursleys, rather than dark wizards? "Where have you been living all of these years?"
'Oh, you know, the usual,' Loki began. 'Apartments and hotel rooms funded by theft and blood money.'
Ignoring Loki, Harry answered, "A few weeks before this, I was cleaning the attic when I found my mother's Hogwarts letter." Neutrality flowed into his tone, as though he was concealing a concealing a non-existent sadness. "It had the address of Diagon Alley on it, and I decided to go there. If I could do strange things, then what explanation was there other than magic?" A snort escaped him. "That's what I thought at six, anyway."
Dumbledore leaned forward, steepling his hands. "Surely you have not raised yourself since you were but a child?"
"Well, I was terrified of being found, since the Dursleys had constantly told me that an orphanage would administer beatings to me for the slightest mistake" – Harry suppressed a smirk as Dumbledore's face expression twisted into one of slight horror, ironically at the only part of the story which was actually true – "so I certainly wasn't going to turn myself in or anything. After a while I moved abroad and managed to get a tutor, as you might be able to tell from my dramatic smoke back in the hall."
Dumbledore nodded, a slight smile crossing his face. "And may I ask who this tutor is?"
Harry grinned, winking at the man. "You can ask, but I won't tell you."
One of Dumbledore's eyebrows raised. "Is that so?" When Harry gave no response, he continued, "Very well. I hope that one day you shall trust me enough to tell me, but for now, we must discuss your enrolment at Hogwarts."
Mimicking the man's expression, Harry said, "I don't recall making any plans to attend this school. If I remember correctly, you already have a champion competing in the tournament."
Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled madly, filled with either mischief. Harry briefly wondered what spell he used to get that effect. It was probably quite similar to the one he had used in the hall to get his eyes to glow neon green. "I'm sure that Beauxbatons and Durmstrang won't mind since you weren't at Hogwarts when the names were put into the Goblet of Fire – I'm assuming you weren't the one to place your name in there."
'Of course he was!' Loki confirmed. 'Being forced into a tournament far beneath his skill-level is his dream!'
'Weren't you the one who was telling me this was a good opportunity to show off and make allies?'
'No,' Loki denied. 'It must have been one of the other voices milling about in this psychotic head of yours.'
Resisting the urge to sigh, Harry answered, "Of course not. I wasn't even in the school." He paused for a second. "Speaking of that, do you happen to have the piece of paper that came out of the Goblet?"
With a nod, Dumbledore dug into one of his obnoxiously-coloured robe's pockets and retrieved a piece of parchment, reaching across the table and dropping it in front of Harry. As predicted, it was written in blood. Nothing could be done to get him out of the tournament, but Loki would stop any future re-occurrences. Nonetheless, Harry tapped his wand against it, reducing it to dust.
"Blood," Harry murmured aloud. "Where would someone have gotten my blood, Dumbledore?"
A grimace graced said man's face. "Well, there are multiple places, though it most likely to be the sample taken after Voldemort attacked you-"
"And why wasn't it destroyed?" Harry demanded. Surely even wizards wouldn't be so inept as to let people have the blood of their babies? It would take a rather knowledgeable wizard to be able to do anything with it, but still…. That reminded Harry that Dumbledore himself might have been the one to place his name within the Goblet of Fire, but he dismissed the thought for now. If it came to a fight, he wouldn't stand a chance.
Once again, Dumbledore grimaced. "Normally, it would have been, but at the time not all of the Death Eaters undercover had been discovered, and it wouldn't have been too difficult for one to steal a sample." He leaned back in his chair and sighed, apparently ashamed of the stupidity of wizards. "Perhaps we can move back to the subject of Hogwarts?"
'Perhaps you should go to Hogwarts – even if only for a few lessons. There can be no harm in it, and perhaps we will learn something - though I highly doubt it. It will also make gaining allies far easier as well as giving you a room.'
'I guess.'
"Fine, Dumbledore, but I will not be attending the school officially. I will not let lessons interfere with my training regime for the tournament."
'After all, I don't think Hogwarts teaches laser-vision.'
'Not this again,' groaned Loki.
'What?! If I am to rise as a benevolent dictator who happens to kill anyone who disagrees with him, then pretending to be Superman will greatly help me gain a following!'
"Very well, Harry," Dumbledore said, his lips beginning to curl into a grin once again. "I suppose that I can settle for that, though I do hope you will return next year."
"Perhaps." He allowed no incredulity to slip into his tone, lest Dumbledore take offence. Why would he choose to stay in the presence of children for longer than necessary?
Dumbledore stood, moving over to an ancient-looking leather hat atop a shelf. "And now you must be sorted," he said, lifting up the dirty clothing.
A frown broke upon Harry's face. "I don't-"
He was interrupted as a mouth seemingly opened on the hat and spoke. "Why have you awakened me, Albus? Decided to finally allow me to retire, have you?"
"Unfortunately not. I need you to sort a student." Before the hat could complain, he added, "Only one though."
With a reluctant sigh, the hat allowed itself to be moved towards Harry who shoved it away. "What the hell is that?"
"The Sorting Hat, it sorts people into their houses." At Harry's sceptical look he continued, "Do not fear, it is enchanted against revealing anything it sees."
"If you say so," Harry muttered before taking the filthy thing, casting a cleaning charm on it, then putting it onto his head.
'Well, well, Mr Potter, how nice to – WHAT THE HELL?!'
Harry hadn't done anything, but he could feel Loki forcing his presence upon the hat. 'Listen here, hat,' the god hissed. 'What you are seeing now are some of the states my former enemies have been reduced to, and cloth happens to be suitably more flammable than flesh. If you disclose anything you see here, you shall feel the true wrath of a god. You may not be able to process pain, yet I will make you scream. You have no body, but your very soul will bleed. You cannot see, but I will show you things that can destroy the bravest of men. And by the time I am done with you, you shall beg for the torment of hell, and you will rue the day you ever chose to cross Loki.'
'O-okay then. I'll just get to sorting you then.'
'Gryffindor,' Harry suddenly said. 'I want to be in Gryffindor. It's what everyone expects of me so it will be far less suspicious than Slytherin.'
'Have you done anything brave?' the Sorting Hat asked. 'I'm enchanted to place a student in the house they should be in unless they persuade me.'
Harry racked his mind for any bravery. 'I saved a girl from kidnappers.'
'You were being paid.'
'Um...I dived out of a window in a cool way a few years ago.'
'I don't really think that counts.'
'Does it count as brave if I have enough courage to have Loki destroy you and then I piss on the remains?'
"GRYFFINDOR!"
A/N: So, Harry has entered Hogwarts... I wonder what's going to happen... Anyway, tell me what you thought.
