Chapter 24

As it turned out, walking out of the stadium before remembering to return and retrieve the egg didn't leave too good an impression upon the judges. Harry blamed that on brain damage, and also insisted that it was the only reason he had gotten the least amount of points - well, as well as the judges being part of an elaborate conspiracy to do...something.

His loss certainly wasn't anything to do with the fact he had almost been killed, or the fact that he had killed the dragon in an "inhumane" way. That was a compliment to him, in a way, for he was better than these petty humans. He was more powerful, faster, stronger! He was a god among men! He...was starting to sound like a drunken Loki…. Once again, Harry blamed it on the concussion.

Serious head injuries or not, he wasn't going to let himself be seen to by a medic. It would be rather embarrassing when he passed out, after all. So instead he slipped through the crowds without notice, made his way through the castle's hallways, and collapsed into bed. It was mere seconds before sleep embraced him.


'Harry,' Loki prompted, prodding at his mind. 'It's time to get up.'

Groaning, Harry rolled over. 'No it's not.'

'It's been eight hours since the task, and it is now ten o'clock. I had assumed you would want to revel in your victory and boast, but if not….'

Harry sighed, and asked, 'You're going to make me go anyway, aren't you?'

'Yes,' Loki admitted, not sounding the slightest bit sorry. 'If we stay here, people may begin to think you are hiding some fatigue or injury from the task. If we go, however, you can make a dramatic entrance to the party they will no doubt be willing to hold in your name.' He paused, then added, 'Partying with underlings, seeking to fly, calling down thunder and lightning, you're starting to sound like Thor.'

For a moment, Harry waited for Loki to say anything further, and then asked, 'Is that an insult, or a complement?'

'The former, no doubt. People always liked him more, but people are idiots - deluded, even.'

With a snort, Harry sat up, and glanced around the room. He was glad to discover that it was, in fact, his room. In the state he had been in, it hadn't been a sure thing, and who knew what kind of place he might have wandered into in a school where troll attacks weren't very unusual?

Now safe in the knowledge that no other mythological creatures were nearby - or at least, probably weren't - Harry changed his clothes and made his way from the room and towards the Gryffindor common room. Luckily, he had been there beforehand, and thus didn't get lost on the way there, which he found to be quite an accomplishment.

So it wasn't long before he found himself standing outside the painting, contemplating whether or not to blow his way through. Whilst he had been here before, it had been weeks ago, and since then the password had been changed. Suddenly, he came to a realisation.

'Wait a minute,' he said, rubbing his chin in thought. 'Painting are sapient to some degree, yes?' At Loki's affirmation, he continued, 'They obviously aren't as advanced and complex as humans, if they are able to created so easily.'

It took Loki a mere moment to grasp his implication. 'That...that might just work.'

Harry made eye contact with the lady in the portrait, and mentally rushed forward with the subtlety of a bull in a china shop. This was not an illusion; this was dominance.

As Harry slammed against the portrait's mind, he found his prediction to be true. Portraits were simple-minded, and with Loki's willpower behind him, it wasn't much trouble to accidentally perceive all of one's mind intentionally.

Having immediately found what he had came for, he pulled back. For a moment, the portrait froze, and then it moving again. That was no doubt one of the many charms he had sensed placed upon it.

The woman in the portrait looked around dazedly, and then focused on Harry. Before she could speak, he said the password and strolled inside. Seeing that though people were there, they weren't throwing parties in his honour, Harry decided that it simply would not do. A glance around confirmed that no one had seen him enter, he moved over to the window.

After a moment of concentration, three things happened: the window shattered, thunder roared, and a flash of lightning dramatically illuminated a figure whose eyes glowed a neon green.

Harry smirked. Showboating was fun, and if it made him look cool, who was he to not to do it?


It hadn't been long before Harry managed to sneak out of the party he had started and return to his room. Alcohol didn't really affect him much, and he didn't deem any Gryffindor attractive enough to have sex with - other than himself, of course, but he wasn't gay, and he imagined the mechanics of such an act would be rather complicated - so it hadn't been all too fun.

That said, it hadn't been all bad. His almost complete resistance to alcohol had won him all of the drinking contests. Hopefully that would gain him a few titles. Maybe a few concerning immortality, for a normal wizard would most likely be dead from what he had consumed. A full Asgardian would be unfazed, and Harry was only slightly affected, though a bit tired.

Nonetheless, he decided that it was a good time to see what was inside the egg, however, and promptly closed it as an alien screeching noise burst from it. Perhaps it was a good time to go to bed.


It wasn't until next morning's breakfast when McGonagall delivered him a summons from Dumbledore. It wasn't exactly hard to guess what it was about, but still, he had hoped the man would simply leave the matter be. Nonetheless, it wouldn't be good to keep the man waiting, so Harry soon found himself heading up to the Headmaster's Office.

"Ice mice," he muttered at the gargoyle statue and it slid aside. For a moment, he contemplated whether Dumbledore was truly insane, or just playing to others' opinions of him. He wasn't quite sure which one he would prefer. He cast the question aside and made his way up the stairs.

Deciding that Dumbledore most likely already knew of his arrival, Harry pushed the door open and moved over to the seat, sitting down in front of Dumbledore.

"I assume you know why you're here, Mr Potter?" Dumbledore peered over his glasses as he spoke, and Harry couldn't help but notice it was the exact same line he had used after he had fought Malfoy. Come to think of it, he probably used the line on everyone to come into his office.

It wouldn't exactly surprise Harry if a large proportion of the wizarding population thought Dumbledore omniscient enough to already know what they had done, and to just be waiting for them to admit it. That said, Dumbledore was most likely skilled at mind magics, so it wasn't too outrageous an assumption for one to make.

Harry decided to have some fun. "I'm sorry, Professor Dumbledore," he said, his tone filled with great regret. "I know that it's completely unacceptable for a role model of my caliber to be drinking underage, but you see, I was just caught up in the celebrations of the task and didn't want to let my fans down."

Dumbledore seemed slightly stunned, and Harry resisted the urge to laugh. Dumbledore sighed and touched a hand to his forehead. "I feel as though you know fully-well that is not the reason."

Harry looked puzzled. Playing dumb was really quite fun. "I assure you I don't, Headmaster."

Arching an eyebrow, Dumbledore said, "It is to do with your performance in the First Task."

"Oh, about me forgetting the egg and not going to the medic? I assure you that I'm fine, Headmaster. It was only a minor-" Harry paused, and stared off into the distance, as if searching for a word. "Ah!" he suddenly exclaimed. "A minor coincidence!" Once again, he paused thoughtfully. "A minor conclusion? No, no, a minor concussion! I'm absolutely certain that's it!"

By this point, Dumbledore had to began to look more worried than chiding. "Are you sure you're-"

"Ah that's it! A minor concussion!"

"Please concentrate, Mr Potter."

"Of course, of course," Harry assured. "I have came to the minor conclusion that my minor concussion was only a minor coincidence, so I should be fine."

Dumbledore still looked uncertain, but nonetheless turned serious. "You killed the dragon."

Harry nodded. "I did."

"You were not supposed to kill the dragon, and as you can expect the dragon keepers are rather upset about the fact that you did."

"Really?" Harry frowned. "I was under the impression that wizards just killed dragons whenever they wanted to get their parts for wands."

Dumbledore sighed. "We use the parts from already dead dragons, and certainly not still-alive nesting mothers."

Harry was fairly sure the dragon eggs had been crushed at some point, now that he thought about it, but that was probably best left unsaid. "I'm sorry, in that case. I assure you that I didn't know." That was actually true. Why on earth would he assume that dragons would be treated kindly when he was being put to fight against one in what was essentially a gladiator arena?! "Anyway, what would you have me do?"

"You have acted within the rules of the tournament, so even if I wanted to punish you - which I don't - I could not," Dumbledore said. "I would, however, suggest that you apologise to the dragon handlers and make the misunderstanding known."

'Your suggestion has been noted and promptly ignored,' Loki said formally.

'Finally decided to talk, have we?'

'I've been contemplating the noise the egg emitted. The AllSpeak would have translated any mortal tongue, and though I do not recognise this particular dialect, it is quite similar to something I have heard before.'

'Oh, what?'

'Mermaids,' Loki dead-panned. 'And no, they're not hot. You will be able to hear their language if you're underwater.'

Harry turned his attention back to Dumbledore, nodding at the man and getting back to his feet. "I'll be taking my leave then. Goodbye, Professor."

With that, he left the room. He had some bathing to do.


"Come seek us where our voices sound,

We cannot sing above the ground,

And while you're searching ponder this;

We've taken what you'll sorely miss,

An hour long you'll have to look,

And to recover what we took,

But past an hour, the prospect's black,

Too late, it's gone, it won't come back."

The egg's voice promptly cut off, and Harry broke the surface of his bathtub. That had been rather morbid. From what he had gathered from that song, merpeople were going to steal what he would sorely miss, which he took to mean all of his money, and hide it in a lake. He found it highly unlikely they would be able to accomplish that, however, seeing as he doubted merpeople knew how muggle banks worked or were capable of robbing Gringotts or its Italian equivalent.

But what else could it be? His enchanted clothes perhaps? His wand? His sword? If they attempted to take any of those, they would face a rather nasty surprise. Nonetheless, he deemed it smart to prepare for the task, for he would have to do it whether or not they actually managed to take what they wanted.

And if he was going to do it, he was going to do it in style.

A/N: Sorry 'bout the longer update time. It's gonna be more like this now I'm writing 2 - well, technically 4 - fics at the same time. Anyway, tell me what you thought!