To the young Longbottom scion's credit, he was reluctant to run away from the surprisingly-sapient and murderous giant snake, despite the horrific re-death of the draugr of Tom Riddle. "Harry, I can–"

"You don't have a weapon," Harry insisted, cutting him off and drawing the sword, sweeping his invisibility cloak in his off hand. Not that the sword-and-cloak dueling style Fandral had shown them briefly would help against a giant snake. "Wake up Fandral and get out. I'll try to draw it off."

Neville took another look at the giant snake, which was swallowing down Tom's corpse far more quickly than seemed reasonable for having to unhinge its jaw, and nodded, running toward the entry cave.

That just left Harry and the Nidhogg serpent, who tracked the fleeing boy for a moment before turning its head back to Harry. After the still-visible human body began to distend the snake's throat and it clicked its jaw back into position, it observed, "A sword? You seek to threaten me with a sword?"

"It's what I've got," Harry shrugged, unconsciously switching into Parseltongue himself. If he could buy time for Neville to get out, he might be able to escape, but then the serpent would be able to take back the secret of Vormir to its mysterious mistress. He checked, "Don't suppose you want to monologue for a while? While you digest Tom?"

"Draugr are barely a meal," it disagreed, the lump already clearly dissolving as it slid down the length of the snake at a shocking rate. "But it's been some time since I devoured a child from the living worlds. I imagine you'll be succulent." It was already starting to uncoil and move to cut Harry off from the room's entrance.

"You'll have to catch me first," Harry argued, bolting away from the snake to use the columns as obstructions. Hiding behind one, he swept the cloak on and then tried to move more quietly to the next.

"Run, rabbit," it ordered, rasping across the stone. "Hide all you wish. I can still taste you. Still sense your footsteps." Its tongue flicked the air.

Harry didn't consider that altogether fair. He guessed he should have expected that invisibility wouldn't work as well against animals as it did against people. It would really help if his invisibility was more total. He was basically hiding from a servant of death itself. And that, it seemed, made the difference. Suddenly, he felt the cloak move on its own, sticking closer to his skin rather than billowing as he ran. His pounding footsteps against the stonework became barely audible to him.

"Thanks for joining the party," he thought at the cloak, and was sure he felt it give him a reassuring squeeze in response.

"What is this!?" the snake hissed after him. "Not just hiding! Hiding in the Mistress' own cloak! How pleased she will be to recover it."

Harry cursed to himself, just racking up the things this snake knew that he didn't want it to pass on to whoever it was that had its allegiance. Maybe that face carved into the wall represented this Mistress? He really was going to have to try to kill the serpent. As it slid past the column he was hiding behind, he struck with the sword.

He'd been aiming for its eye, but between his limited fighting skill and the difficulty striking quickly with a sword that he'd been hiding under his cloak, he only managed a light puncture to its side. He'd barely missed the armor plates on its back, which might have deflected the sword entirely.

Nonetheless, the beast shrieked in pain, whipping its head back, fangs extended, to where Harry had struck from. It was only his seeker reflexes, dealing with the biggest bludger he'd ever faced, that let him spring back out of the way, continuing to use the column as a barrier. Harry circled the column while the head tried to chase him, stabbed down again on the lower body of the snake as he jumped over it, and then rushed off to find another piece of cover.

He figured that maybe he could do some combination of Looney Tunes and Death of a Thousand Cuts to the monster, if it kept playing along.

"Vermin! Thief!" the snake screamed. "I'll pump you so full of venom you'll beg me to eat you to end your pain!"

Harry really wanted to taunt the monster, but that would just give away his position. He noticed it was pulling its bulk into a more sidewinder-type movement, coils closer together so it would have an easier time striking at him should he keep trying the same trick. Pale green blood seeped from the wounds on its neck and lower body.

Maybe it was time for a holdout? He carefully moved the sword to his off hand and reached into his pocket for the vial that Hermione had wrapped in several layers of cloth. He somehow got it unwrapped one-handed, gingerly holding the thin glass globe. He waited for his moment, risked holding his hand free of the cloak, and then flung the snitch-sized potion bottle at the floor directly in front of the snake's face.

It exploded, but not nearly as much as he'd hoped. At best, it was like an M80 firework, rather than the nitroglycerine that Hermione had compared the exploding potion to when she'd brewed it. He'd have to tell her she must not have gotten it quite right. They hadn't thought they could safely test it beforehand without alerting the staff.

It at least still made the snake rear up in surprise, and he rushed in, clumsily switching the sword to his main hand to try for a stab at its underbelly. But the end of its body, which he guessed was more or less its tail, flicked at the movement, and he barely managed to dodge being thrashed with hundreds of pounds of armored snake meat.

"Mortal tricks! I hope you become a draugr, so my venom can be poured upon your brow for centuries like the old punishments!" it threatened, nearly catching him by chance as he sprinted away. Having to clear the sword from the folds of the cloak to attack was really diminishing Harry's belief that invisibility was totally overpowered.

Harry reflected on his tactical situation. The giant snake would absolutely wreck him if it landed an attack, he was pretty sure it was immune what little wandless magic he knew, and he had to wait for an opportunity to plink it for hardly any damage with the sword. It should be frustrating—possibly terrifying—but years of playing video games had taught Harry how to handle an attrition boss fight.

Meanwhile, the Nidhogg serpent had never had to deal with this kind of battle before. Warriors fought bravely and to the death. Prey ran away. Even the rare, cowardly warriors that tried hit and run tactics didn't have much patience. Somewhere in its lair there was a very annoying child with a very sharp sword just waiting for a moment of inattention to poke it. Preposterous!

It never actually entered the giant snake's mind that it could just leave with its knowledge.

The fight took another ten minutes of hit and run. Harry would catch his breath against a column, wait for an opportunity, stab safely, and then rush off to repeat the cycle. In a video game, he'd probably be getting bored, since this boss didn't even do any lair actions to try to switch up the battlefield. He'd been waiting for it to thrash around and cause rocks to fall or something. But it did continue to curse quite creatively as he opened up more and more bleeding holes along its body.

Finally, when the serpent was already visibly slowing down from pain and blood loss, Harry spotted a patch of vibrant crimson entering the room through one of the Night Roads in the ceiling. He cleared some distance away from the snake and yelled, "Fjalar! Stunning rooster crow attack!"

He'd just been guessing, but he was right. As the Nidhogg serpent rushed toward where he'd just shouted from, in the air the mythic rooster let loose a crow literally fit to wake the dead. It was loud to Harry, but seemed to cause the snake physical pain. It abruptly aborted its charge and thrashed around.

"Perfect. Hold that pose," Harry said, rushing up, pointing the sword in the air, and letting the boss monster impale itself on the base of its mouth as it, disoriented, swung its head down.

It almost crushed Harry beneath it with the force of its collapse, as he nearly forgot to let go of the sword in time. He tumbled away, leaving the Aesir blade like a plastic sword toothpick in an hors d'oeuvres at one of Tony's networking parties, staying just a foot away from the spasming and flopping coils of the dying snake. He felt his cloak pull itself up around his neck like a scarf, and turn only itself invisible, now that the need for it was done.

"Thanks, buddy!" Harry yelled up at the rooster as he sat back down on the grimy floor to take a breather while the snake finished its death throes. Privately, he thought that the bird would have been a huge help several minutes earlier, maybe before the snake ate his newest frenemy, but he wasn't going to complain too much about the assist. Fjalar made a sound of agreement, then settled on the floor near Harry. He was carrying some kind of object, and it took Harry a second to recognize it and ask, "Why do you have the Helm of Sorting?"

Oh well, maybe Dumbledore would explain it later.

The rooster crow was also loud enough that it had called back Neville and a groggy-looking Fandral to see what was going on in the Chamber of Secrets. Harry shot them a thumbs-up where they lurked by the doorway. "You guys want to come help me cut off a giant snake head?" he yelled across the vast room to them.

Some minutes later, two boys, an Asgardian warrior, a legendary rooster, the Helm of Sorting, and a hastily-decapitated giant snake head tumbled out of the wall and into the second-floor girls' bathroom. The teachers and Ministry guards that Hermione and Dean had assembled were obviously surprised by this. They'd spent nearly half an hour fruitlessly trying to figure out what had happened to Harry and how to open the portal.

"Hey, everybody," Harry smiled. "It's all sorted."

He waved the Helm of Sorting at them so they'd be sure to get the pun.

It practically took a little longer to actually get it all sorted. Before they'd left, Harry, Neville, and Fandral had gotten their stories straight. He wasn't really looking to get either of them in trouble for basically being behind all the attacks. Fandral (who almost looked like a completely different person with his natural brown eyes instead of the blue) didn't feel great about taking the credit, but it would be a lot easier to believe that he'd slain the Nidhogg serpent with the help of the boys and Fjalar than that Harry had basically invisibility-cheated it to death. Plus, the fewer people that knew about his cloak, the better, Harry figured.

They settled on just letting Tom Riddle have the blame. The draugr of the boy that had actually been behind the original attacks coming back for a second round from beyond the grave was a good enough story. Trying to explain that it was a complicated plot to search the school for a powerful artifact that wasn't even there anymore at the mind-controlled behest of a shadowy "Father" who may have been pretending to be Lord Voldemort for half a century… well, people would believe that it had been a single mad ghost all along.

It would have been hard to make any accusations stick against Lucius Malfoy anyway. The guy was connected. But not as connected as the headmaster, who was back in his office and getting the real debrief from Harry before Malfoy was even informed about what had happened. "What are you doing back in the school? The governors suspended you," Lucius demanded of Dumbledore, from the door of the headmaster's office.

"The crisis compelling my suspension has ended," Dumbledore twinkled at him. "Is there a reason I would stay away now that the students are no longer in danger?" He waited, and pointed out, "I was also contacted by the rest of the governors as soon as a young man of Mr. Longbottom's… breeding… was in danger, asking me to come back. They were worried their own children might be in danger."

"And you have proof beyond the word of two children and an Asgardian that the problem is solved?" Malfoy attempted.

Harry just pointed at the incorporeal giant snake head sitting by the door. They had needed to ask a few of the castle ghosts to move it from the bathroom to the office.

"There was…" he sputtered. "There was also rumor of some kind of cursed book?"

"Unrelated rumors, as it turned out," Dumbledore smiled. "I'm not sure how you got in your head that a pranked book had something to do with the attacks. Do you know something about this cursed tome, Lucius?"

"Oh, actually, I did find that, sir," Harry said with a smile, as the snide aristocrat pulled a face trying to come up with an answer. He lied, "I can go get it if Mr. Malfoy wants it for evidence?"

Malfoy's eyes widened while Dumbledore's narrowed, since Harry had explained during his debrief that he had kicked the book into Ginnungagap. "That would be, helpful, yes, Mr. Potter," the headmaster played along, wanting to see where this was going.

"Be right back," Harry nodded, heading out. He was sure the two men would entertain each other while they waited. He sprinted over to the Gryffindor common room and spotted the twins. "I need the thing you were working on. Mr. Malfoy wants it."

The twin on the left admitted, "It was a rushed job…"

"Some of our best work with a time limit, though," added the one of the right.

Harry checked the sack they'd handed him, spotting a reasonably-good facsimile of the cursed black book sitting inside. It wasn't that hard to get a black leather book and put a fake yellow gem in the center. "And it's cursed?"

"Industrial-strength magical itching powder," left said.

Right added, "And some other surprises for anyone that actually opens it."

"Perfect, thanks guys," Harry told them, racing back to the headmaster's office. Dumbledore was just escorting Malfoy out past the gargoyle as Harry rushed up. "Here you go, sir," he held out the bag. "I don't think you should touch it. Word is that it's got some really bad prank spells on it."

Was that look on Malfoy's face relief that he at least hadn't lost his master's mind-control artifact in his aborted bid to find the Soul Stone? He gingerly took the bag from Harry and said, "Understood. I'll see that it's… searched for clues."

Harry just wished he could be there when Malfoy gave it back to whoever he'd gotten it from.

"A prank book?" Dumbledore asked quietly, as Malfoy strode off.

"The twins did what they could on short notice," Harry confirmed.

"Well, then, let's just call that an even thirty points to Gryffindor for ingenuity and forward thinking, in addition to another fifty for courage and a mission successfully executed," the old man twinkled. "Shall we go to the infirmary? I understand the potion to revive the students from their comas is ready and will be administered tonight."

"I may skip it, sir," Harry said, not really wanting to give Colin the impression that they were good enough friends for him to be waiting by his bedside. "But I'll go tell the Weasleys that Percy will be up soon. By the way, why did Fjalar bring me the Helm?"

"There's a sword inside," the headmaster explained, simply, while Harry tried to wrap his head around why you'd keep a sword in a helmet, even if you could use magic to fit it in there. "But you were several steps ahead, and I'll be sure to count on your perspicacity more going forward. Congratulations on bonding your family relic, by the way."

"Thanks, sir," Harry said, still trying to work out what "perspicacity" was. "See you around."

He managed to put off Gryffindor wanting to hear what had happened by claiming exhaustion, and that he was sure Fandral would tell them in class on Monday. After all, it was quite late on Sunday by the time he was done talking to Dumbledore.

Classes were an issue, however. The Ministry guards had absolutely wrecked the castle within a few hours in their furious search for Neville (on top of the more-organized chaos they'd inflicted on it throughout the previous weeks). Shelves were toppled, cabinets divested of all of their drawers, and closets with their doors pulled off. Fortunately Filch was ecstatic that his cat had been revived, because he had weeks of work repairing and rehanging all the paintings that had been yanked off of walls. The kitchen staff was having trouble just putting breakfast together with the damage that had been done to the facilities.

After several days of the school limping along and increasing frustration with the limited ability to teach classes, provide meals, and even get from place to place, Dumbledore announced at dinner, "With the difficulties Hogwarts has faced this year and the state of our facilities, we have decided to let the students go early for the year. Fifth-years and Seventh-years will have an abbreviated exam schedule at the end of this month. For the other years, you shall self-study for the next few weeks. Your professors will provide your summer homework, including materials not covered this year that will be expected at the beginning of next. We'll be sending the Express back at the end of this month. Please contact your parents accordingly."

"What about those going to Midgard, sir?" Penelope Clearwater asked, surrounded by Ravenclaws glad that she was out of her coma. "The convergence doesn't open for another month after that."

The headmaster nodded, "Ah, yes. Rather than take the Express, Midgardian students will be departing from here directly on the last day of Pasture-Month. Fandral is coordinating with Asgard to see that we may use Bifrost to send you back to Midgard. Prince Thor's coronation is upcoming, so it should already be seeing enough work moving guests around for that to be no great challenge for a few more travelers."

"We get to take Bifrost!" Hermione repeated, excited. "Do you think we'll get to meet Heimdall, or will it simply move us from here to Earth without passing through Asgard? Only, it's supposed to be one of the most impressive instances of Aesir technology."

More importantly to Harry, he worked out, "Wait, carry the one… The end of this month is May 22nd! I can go to the Grand Prix!"

The rest of the month was a blur. Pepper agreed that they could divert their plane to meet Harry in London and pick him up on the way to Monaco. They got their summer homework assignments and Hermione immediately put the study group to work getting as much done as possible before they left school. The fifth-years and seventh-years nearly lost their minds having to prepare for their exams a month earlier than they'd expected, and furiously guarded their time with the professors.

Because the defense seminar didn't really have exams—each year's professor set a different curriculum based on their own specialties, after all—Fandral was the most available professor to the younger students. At Harry's encouragement, he'd started having melee combat demonstrations out on the school grounds in the increasingly-nice weather. Most days, he even managed to multitask between instruction and storytelling.

The Asgardian professor cornered Harry in private near the end of the month and said, "I really do wish I could tell the real story. Some of my tales may be a bit… expanded… but all of them are true. You're sure you don't want the credit?"

Harry shrugged, "I think it would just confuse people. And they already expect me to be some big hero around here. It's probably okay if they don't expect me to go charging out and fight giants next year because they know I already beat a monster snake."

"If you're sure," the warrior shook his head, clearly not understanding humility of that sort. "I shall at least tell the real tale to my closest friends, so they'll know they can rely upon you, should they meet you on the battlefield. Perhaps I shall tell Loki that it took a young warrior-mage from Midgard to change my opinion of spell-workers."

"Please don't make Loki mad at me," Harry insisted. "Oh. But do see if anyone up in Asgard knows who this Father and Mistress are? Dumbledore didn't know." Or at least wouldn't admit to having an idea to Harry.

Fandral nodded gravely, "I'd had the same thought. Once Thor takes his role as king of Asgard, I'm certain he will wish to hunt down these villains moving backstage of the play that is Vanaheim." He smiled again and said, "Your swordplay is improving. I'm leaving you and your companions some practice blades. Keep at it, and you could have a quite-valuable skill to back up your magic. I'll check in on you in a few years, and, should your skills be worthy, see to having an Aesir blade crafted for you."

"Thanks," Harry told him, then smirked, "though yours works alright, so I could just borrow that again if I need it."

"Cuts me. Cuts me to the very quick!" Fandral smiled, putting his hand to his chest in mock outrage. "I shall see you around, Harry Potter."

"You too, Fandral the Dashing," Harry told him. The pompous swordsman really had grown on him, now that he wasn't mind controlled.

Rather than having the train ride for farewells, the Gryffindor second-years had a frantic final goodbye as they packed to leave on the last day. Harry pulled Lavender off and said, "Hey. I was going to try to talk to Nev's grandmother about letting him, you know, do stuff. He's been through a lot this year." Harry hadn't really explained it to everyone in so many words that Neville had been mind controlled, but they at least knew that he'd been kidnapped. "Do you think you can talk to her?"

"I'll do it," Lavender agreed. "Between Ron's mother and mine, we should be able to convince her. See you all at the Market?"

"And we'll write," Harry agreed.

Soon, most of the school was taking the helhest carriages down to the train, while all the students heading for Midgard were trying to squeeze into a large circle that had been drawn on the lawn, based on the dimensions Fandral explained was used for Bifrost's portal. "I wonder what it's going to be like when Thor is king of Asgard," Hermione was considering, as they waited for stragglers. "Do we start saying, 'By Thor's Beard'? Does Thor even have a beard?"

"If Odin's retiring, maybe he'll be our defense teacher next year," Dean mused.

"Give the guy a year to take a vacation," Harry shook his head.

"You're going to be in New York after Monaco, right?" Dean checked.

"Probably," Harry agreed. "Aunt Pepper said the Stark Expo's all year, but a lot of the really cool stuff happens in May and June. I'll text you. Sorry you can't come, Hermione."

Hermione nodded, "We haven't seen my grandparents for a couple of years, so I wouldn't want to miss going to visit them. And we're going to travel all over in France while we're there. It should be really fun. But get me souvenirs!"

"Is that everyone?" Fandral checked, from the middle of the circle where he took up a surprising amount of space with all of his luggage. Hagrid gave him a thumbs-up from outside of the circle, and a wave to Harry and his friends. He'd been quite happy to get out of the forest after everything had been settled. He complained that Aragog snored. "Very well," Fandral called. "Heimdall, whenever you're ready!"

An immense light suddenly descended from the sky and Harry had time to scream, "Beam me up!" before they were rocketing across space on the Rainbow Bridge. As he and a couple-dozen other students flew at many times the speed of light through the space between worlds he only had one thought.

He hoped he wouldn't fall on his face in front of Heimdall.