TRIGGER WARNING

I try to describe a flashback like panic attack, and how people can deal with that. I probably do not do a very good job. Hera has Loki's memories, and the war like PTSD is sort of a side effect that hasn't gotten much screen time on here. I figured it was bound to happen at some point, so why not right after she finally tells her closest friends the truth about herself?

So if you have any sort of PTSD, let me know how you think I did. If there's any tips you can give me for writing those scenes better, let me know.

Last time...

"You're all crazy, I hope you know that." Hera chuckled, tears still falling down her face, though the wide grin eased all worries. "What you just did…Not even Thor thought to…"

"You needed to know we would always stand with you. Even if we disagree on something, we won't stop caring about you or each other. Words aren't always a good way to convey that. Actions mean more." Hermione stated firmly. "We are your shield-brethren, and you will never be alone again, even if we can't always be with you."

Hera froze for a moment, not willing to think about the implications of that statement, that she could possibly live on while her friends did not…Her mind was already racing with ideas on how to keep them with her. Would this be enough? Would she have to steal an apple of Idunn? Start her own orchard? Would her friends go for that? Would it even be necessary? She might stay mortal in the terms of a human life, but what if she didn't?

Chapter 71

"What about Fen and Jör?" Ron wondered. "There's some pretty wild stories out there, you know."

"I would hope that you'd never repeat those foul attempts at slander to me." Hera warned casually. "Sif and the Warriors Three thought it a wondrous joke when they realized the stories they made up of him had become so widespread, back before the realm was made a protectorate."

"Well, what's the real story then?"

"It is customary for all powerful magic wielders to have one or more familiars, no matter the realm." Hera explained. "The All-Father himself has two, Huginn and Muninn; thought and memory respectively. Frigga has two cats, though to this day I couldn't tell you what their names are. She keeps the knowledge secret, and the cats themselves tend not to even need names to know that she wishes for their council."

"You can't mean…"

"Fen and Jör would have been Loki's familiars instead of mine, had it not been for the All-Father. Then again, if the All-father hadn't interfered with Loki's life to the point the Norns had to intervene, I would not be here as I am at all." Hera confirmed. "When Loki brought Jörmungandr before Oðin, Jör was but a tiny thing, just a hatchling, but the All-Father looked upon him and saw a vision of great destruction. Fearing this to be the end of the realm, Oðin cast him down to Earth, where he was eventually found by Salazar Slytherin. It was much the same with Fenrir, only the All-Father took a bit more care in how he contained the World Eater, binding him with impossible things, and trapping him in a kingdom all but forgotten by its own realm. Loki didn't dare bring any others before Oðin after that."

"Was that before or after the contest between the dwarves and goblins?" Draco suddenly wanted to know.

"…After, I think." Hera admitted, confused. "Why?"

"Because you have already rescued both familiars, and have taken Loki's threads from his lips so that he could be treated." Luna recounted, seeing what Draco did. "How long before you find yourself face to face with another one of Loki's punishments?"

"If I come across another such moment, you can not expect me to leave him to it." Hera insisted stubbornly. "He's going to suffer regardless, I know, but you can't expect me to not try and do something to help him."

"Merlin help you and your saving people thing."

…

"What happened with Lockhart?" Hermione asked, and Hera stilled. "I know you did something to him, and I know that whatever it was he most certainly deserved it, but-"

"Loki's influence aside, I am not squeaky clean, Hermione." Hera warned, pinning her with a look that had Hermione squirming as she considered her own morality. "Will you judge me if I tell you I killed him? Quirrell may not be the only one dead by my hands, after all. Would you judge me for that? Will you judge me for planning to kill others? We are in a war, after all. There's not a one of us that will escape it without getting our hands bloodied."

Hermione knew what her friend was doing. Hera had been challenging Hermione's stance on everything she'd ever thought she believed in from the moment she met her; from her love of books to how she thought about rules. This was one of those defining moments. Killing, the idea of someone's death by her own hands, had always made her squirm. While she knew Hera respected life, she also knew her friend had no problems with the idea of defending someone to the death.

Hermione squared her shoulders, her mind decided. "No."

"Good." Hera nodded sharply, before sighing ruefully. "While I warned you to watch out for that man, 'twas I who inevitably forgot my own advice. He followed me into the loo one day after everyone had decided I was evil for speaking to snakes. He didn't do anything, but he implied that he could, that I wouldn't even remember, and then demanded that I show him where the Chamber of Secrets was. Apparently, he'd planned to 'rescue' me to boost his fame."

"Hera, I-"

"Not your fault." Hera interrupted sharply. "Besides, he's been dealt with."

"You did kill him then?" Ron inquired, looking more than a little pale.

"No." Hera replied, and everyone around her tensed. If she didn't kill him…There was that smirk again, the one that Hermione knew Draco liked to call Hera's 'Blood in the Water' smirk. "I didn't kill him."

"What…What did you do?" Hermione asked, eyes wide with morbid curiosity.

"I bet Luna knows." Hera mused, and everyone looked to the girl in question, who had not taken her eyes off of Hera.

"She opened the Chamber of Secrets for him," Luna revealed, speaking softly with reverence, her voice becoming something somehow both whimsical and cruel as she continued. "…and then she fed him to the basilisk."

Hera's smirk widened to an open grin filled with teeth, something entirely bloodthirsty and in no way kind. "That's exactly what I did."

Everyone took a moment to absorb that knowledge, but not one person was expecting Luna's quiet response.

"Good."

…

"How are you the god of fire?" Draco wondered, before yawning, as the group made their way to the entrance they'd come from.

"You'd think being one of frost, that might be a problem." Ron agreed, also curious, though he was doing no better in the yawning department.

"First up, I never said he was the god of Fire. That is a translation error I will not be getting into right now, because Merlin only knows how long it would take to explain that hot mess, but fire is chaotic. Loki and I both embody chaos, so it's something that comes naturally." Hera shrugged. "Besides, I'm not the god of anything."

Both sputtered in protest, unable to give voice to their objections in any other manner.

"Guys, Loki's still alive." Hera reminded them, as each one began to step through the entrance the alcove had become. "As it stands, he's still the god of those things; as in they are his domain. Me? I'm just Hera."

"Mmm… 'Just' Hera is not how I would think to ever describe you." Luna pointed out. She hugged her tight for a moment before branching off from them. "I am glad you've accepted yourself, Hera. Things are going to really get interesting now."

"As opposed to how utterly boring things have been thus far?" Hera remarked with the touch of a grin. Luna just returned the smile, and began walking down the hall.

"I'll go with you, Luna." Ron offered, following after her. "I'm headed up to the tower anyway."

"If we get caught, we can always say you found me sneaking around after curfew looking for Crumpled Horned Snorkacks." Luna agreed.

Hera watched them for a moment. "...Huh."

"What?" Hermione wondered.

"Oh no, you had your chance. You chose tall, dark, and brooding." Hera teased, batting her eyelashes at her friend, snickering when Hermione blushed at the realization of what Hera was hinting at. "I kind of expected her to go after Neville, but I'm pretty sure she'd eat that boy alive."

"Come on, we've got class in the morning, and tomorrow's already going to be awful." Draco snickered, before stifling yet another yawn.

"Think they'll have actually managed to free her by tomorrow?" Hera wondered.

"Madam Pomfrey's on it, and you know what she's like. She won't stop till she's worked it out." Hermione nodded. "The Healers Oath is very important to her, but there's no telling how long it will actually take."

They begin making their way, and there was a moment of silence before…

"So…How do you feel about teaching us a bit of god magic?" Draco proposed with an innocent air. Hermione groaned at the implications of their group of friends with access to Loki like magic, and Hera hurriedly whispered plans to them as they began making their way back to the dungeons; her fatigue forgotten in the wake of a new challenge.

The next day, Hera finds herself trying out for the Slytherin House Team; the Pink Menace still being incapacitated that morning at breakfast had given her hope. She's running on almost no sleep, surrounded by other hopeful Seekers. It's thrilling to actually have to compete for the position for once instead of having it handed to her because they already know what she can do. It's also a little discombobulating as well, because her head isn't fully in the now; the invasion is at the forefront of her mind, having spoken about her last life bringing it into focus. She looked away only for a moment, and when she looked back, her heart stopped.

The invasion was happening around her, and she hadn't prepared her friends, hadn't prepared the world for what they would face. They weren't ready. The Tesseract! She had to stop it! Seeing the glimmer of light that signaled the Tesseract was active, she streaked across the city, pushing her Firebolt for all it was worth. That's when things got complicated; flying projectiles aimed to stop her from reaching her goal were suddenly everywhere. She dodged them all with single-minded determination, even going so far as to free fall at one point; summoning her broom to catch her at the last possible moment.

…

Severus wasn't sure what he'd been expecting when he went down to watch the Seeker tryouts, but it wasn't this. Potter seemed to be a bit sleep deprived, but otherwise fully engaged…until she wasn't. She'd looked away from the field for a moment, barely even that, and when she'd looked back all the colour seemed to drain right out of her. She practically threw herself into the tryouts, the stunts she pulled were like things he'd seen in some of the more professional games he'd attended, and then she'd let herself free fall. Potter would never be so risky for a sport, not the same way she would in defense of those she cared for. Whatever this was, it wasn't about Quidditch.

He got his answer when he walked out onto the pitch. Montague was talking with some of the other hopeful Seekers, a few nodding before they left; the second string he'd been hoping for, Severus imagined. Many tried congratulating Potter on the successful tryout, but she remained frozen where she was, clutching the snitch as she stared at the ground. They could see her face from where they were, though he could not, and they looked to him with eyes filled with concern. Something was definitely wrong.

"Go back to the castle. I'll see what is wrong with Potter." He suggested, but thankfully the students around him read it as an order; all but Montague, who had elected to stay behind.

"Professor, her eyes…" The rather larger boy tried to explain, looking a bit out of sorts.

"Any family that fought in the last war?" Severus questioned quietly, looking over at the Quidditch captain. He didn't answer, but the grimace told enough. "Any of them stare off into space like this?"

Montague nodded.

"Good. Then you have a vague idea of what to expect." Severus replied, keeping his voice low. "No sudden movements. No touching unless permission is given. No revealing what is said here to anyone. No. Talking. Do you understand?"

The young man nodded again, and Severus turned his attention back to Potter, who had not moved.

"Potter, you're on the Quidditch Pitch. The Seeker Tryouts are today. Nod if you can hear me." Severus tried, but Potter remained unresponsive. He'd been afraid of this, and sighed. "I do not understand, what has happened to you?"

Oddly enough, it is this that makes Potter react.

"Brother?" She called, looking over in his direction.

It was clear she wasn't seeing him, and he supposed his dark hair might lead whatever moment she was trapped in to suggest Stark to her, but he was not prepared for her next words.

"Brother!" She called again, this time in relief; clasping his forearm in a manner that suggested a warriors greeting, as she began to plead. "Brother you must believe me. I didn't want this. I wouldn't! They made me…They…You can not let them win! He is coming, and if he wins, he will destroy everything. You have to tell-"

"Potter, you are safe. No one is coming to hurt you." Severus tried.

"Why do you call me thus, Brother?" Potter inquired, looking quite confused, and suddenly Severus realizes things are much worse than he'd initially suspected; Potter was trapped in the mindset of her last life; never mind that they were in the company of someone who did not even know that. "It matters not. Nowhere is safe; not for me. I was promised I would long for something as sweet as pain should I fail, and I planned my own defeat most successfully. Nowhere is safe. He is coming."

She turned towards him more fully, but her eyes are still not seeing their true surroundings, and he slipped into her mind without intending to do so. He hadn't even thought it possible, almost like he'd been invited...pulled in. What he saw…the fighting, the blood, destruction everywhere, Dear God the screams…Parts of New York City lay in ruins. None of it made any sense, and he backed out as soon as he realized what had happened. She did not let him go, however.

"Did you see? Do you understand?" She pleaded. "If you have ever believed me, Brother…If you have ever trusted me, I beg that you do so now."

"Potter!" He shouted, shaking her once, hoping to jar her out of her unseeing stare.

It wasn't something one was supposed to do, and it obviously did not work now. He was going to have to try another approach. Montague, for all that he had no idea what was going on, followed his earlier instructions. It was clear he desired answers, but it did not fully explain why he stayed. Severus returned his attention to Potter, and tried again.

"I understand,…Brother, but you are not where you think you are." Severus began, hoping that this approach would work. "What you are seeing is not real. You have been-"

"You think I have been trapped in an illusion? That I have been tricked?" Potter demanded angrily, clearly insulted. "That I did not experience those things? That I was not tor-"

"That is not what I said, Brother. I mean only that in this moment, you are not where you think we are." Severus continued. "Look around you. What do you see?"

"The City of New York, I believe they call it." Potter huffed, glaring at him. "Why?"

"We are in a field," He explained gently. "near a school. Look around you. Can you not see it?"

"I…" She looked around in uncertainty. "…I do not understand…How did we get here?"

"You attend school here." Severus explained. Maybe this would work after all. "Look around you, Potter. See the school, the Quidditch pitch, your fellow classmate. Know where you are."

For a moment there was no reaction, and then she cautiously looked at her surroundings. Her eyes stopped on Montague, Hogwarts Castle…and her grip on his arm. She let go as if scalded, taking a few steps back, though she did not flee. Her breath became uneven, her eyes darting wildly. If she couldn't get it under control soon, she was likely to pass out.

"Potter, you were having a flashback." Severus attempted. It was the only thing he could think of to say, though perhaps not the most eloquent. "I need you to take a deep breath, hold it in for three, let it go for four. Can you do that?"

Several breaths and quite a few attempts later, and at least she didn't look like she was about to faint anymore, which was something.

"I need you to tell me five things you can see around you." Severus began. "They can be anything, but I need you to name them."

"…You…Montague…the grass…the stands…goal posts…" She struggled, but she completed the list as he'd asked.

"Good. Now, four things you can touch." He continued. "Again, they can be anything."

"…My robes…my hair…my skin…" She replied, this time with a bit more ease, though there was hesitation and uncertainty. "…the snitch."

He couldn't help the snort that escaped, but soldiered on. "Three things you can hear."

"Your voice…the quidditch chest…birds?" Potter didn't sound too sure at that last bit, but that was alright. "I'm sorry, Professor, but what are we doing?"

"Almost done, Potter." He insisted. It might not be necessary now, but he wasn't sure how grounded she was in the moment yet. "Two things you can smell."

She sighed, but answered him. "The grass, and…leather."

"And one thing you can taste."

This time, there was no hesitation.

"Treacle Tart."

Her voice was strong again, at the very least. He'd take it.

"Now that you're a bit more grounded," Severus decided, gesturing to Montague. "Did you have something to say? I can't imagine there being another reason for your stay."

Montague didn't even hesitate. "You're our Seeker."

Potter, for all the world, was too shocked to speak for a moment. "…You…You just saw me have some kind of…of…mental episode, and…you…you're…you're okay with that? Why not someone else?"

"The team won't accept anyone else, not as our main Seeker, not after they saw how you flew today." Montague insisted. "You're our Seeker, but we won't be dependent on only one teammate per spot now, and that includes Seekers. The only reason why Gryffindor wasn't scrambling to replace you and the others on the team last year was because the tournament was going on at the time. Had that not been true, they'd have been in deep trouble. We saw that we were in danger of the same with our own team, and chose to act. I imagine the other House Teams are doing the same. There are reserves, in case you ever need to take a step back."

She stares at the boy for a moment, before nodding in agreement. "Alright, but if you think I'm compromised, you bench me. Understand?"