I'm glad Óskmey got you guys' attention, but I should warn you again that there's no guarantee that it'll be written as a full fic. In fact, I've only finished the first three chapters, and I intend to try and write more of Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus for now. I'm up to the eighth chapter for that one, and after a certain point, I can copy and past a lot from Azrael Rising.

That being said, writing a Harry/Rossweisse fic has been an ambition of mine for some time, and even if this version falls apart, I'll try other ideas.

Anyway, this'll probably be the last posting to the Cauldron for a while, at least until the December mass-update of my fics. I have a list of the fics I am updating for that, but what's going in the Cauldron? Well, it's a surprise, but I will tell you two hints. The first is that it was inspired by one of NeonZangetsu's Naruto crossovers, and I have to thank him for giving me permission to write my own take on his idea. The second is that, like this story, Harry will be paired with a Valkyrie character. That's probably enough hints for many of you. ;)

In any case, enjoy!

ÓSKMEY

CHAPTER 2:

THE JOTUNN HALFBREED

Harry Potter was in a bad way, to say the least. After the last couple of years at Hogwarts, he felt the novelty of his adventures was wearing on him. The past couple of years in particular had been bad, what with the Dementors, and learning the truth about Sirius, then being forced into the Tri-Wizard Tournament, the ostracism that followed, that bitch Skeeter coming after him…and now this. Kidnapped, forced to witness Cedric's murder, and Voldemort's resurrection.

And then, when Voldemort use the Cruciatus Curse on Harry, just prior to what Voldemort called a 'duel', but which was just his ego-trip before slaying a teenager…something broke, deep within Harry. He didn't remember much from what happened, just the screams, and the crimson haze that had descended across his vision. By the time he had recovered himself, he had been holding Pettigrew in his rat form, without knowing how he got him, and sitting in that too-familiar manor, the one from his nightmares of Voldemort.

Soon after the so-called Valkyries arrived, though, he collapsed, falling unconscious from exhaustion. He wasn't even sure he was going to wake up, though the sleep was blessedly free from nightmares. After what he just went through, that was a mercy if nothing else was.

When he woke up, he wasn't sure what he expected. He certainly wasn't expecting what looked like an upmarket hotel room. Not quite the Savoy or a penthouse suite, but certainly nice and comfortable.

And sitting on a chair near the bed was one of the Valkyries he had met. The younger one, who, instead of being dressed in an armoured leotard that left little to the imagination, she was now dressed in a severe suit that nonetheless hugged her body in all the right ways. Her strikingly beautiful features were framed by waist-length silvery hair, her teal eyes currently reading a book. It was hard to tell how old she was. She could have been in her early twenties, given her mature air, and yet, he got the feeling that she was about his age. There was also something about her that vaguely reminded him of Hermione, he felt.

She suddenly noticed he was awake, and gave him a warm smile. "God morgon, Harry Potter," she said. "How do you feel?"

"…Pretty refreshed, actually," Harry said, sitting up in the bed.

"Good. We took the liberty of bringing you to a guest room in Asgard. Lord Odin has made arrangements to tell Headmaster Dumbledore, your teachers, and your friends of your current status and whereabouts," she said.

Harry blinked. "Sorry, what? Did you say…Odin? As in…the leader of the Viking gods?"

"Norse gods, actually," the girl said. "And yes, you are correct. There's…quite a lot for you to take in, I am sure. Be reassured, Cedric Diggory's body has been taken back. His next of kin will decide what to do about him."

"Thank you, uhhh…what's your name again?"

"Rossweisse."

"Oh, right. Nice name," he said offhandedly, not failing to notice her blush. "Sounds very like a Valkyrie."

"…My father was a fan of Wagner's music, even if he hated the man for his anti-Semitism, including The Ring of the Nibelung," Rossweisse said, looking embarrassed. " I don't know whether you have heard of that opera, but you've surely heard of the music The Ride of the Valkyries. My father named me for the Valkyrie character Rossweisse, which is a German name, not a Norse one. It gets to the point where I hate people playing Ride of the Valkyries around me."

"…Okay," Harry said. He'd heard of Wagner and his anti-Semitism thanks to Hermione, and he certainly knew of the music in question. Eventually, he added, "It's still a nice name, though, despite all that."

She gave him a smile. "Thank you. Would you mind letting me check you over again? We did so while you were unconscious, and physically, you have a completely clean bill of health. I just wish to double-check."

"…Okay, I guess," Harry said. While he was a little wary, Rossweisse had been nothing but friendly to him, so for now, he was going to give her, at least, the benefit of the doubt. So he lay back on the bed, and allowed her to use magic, which took the form of circles that hovered over her hands. "I've never seen spells like those before."

"That is because this is a form of runic magic, the sort the Aesir and Vanir still practise," Rossweisse said.

"Well, go ahead, Dr Rossweisse," Harry joked.

Rossweisse gave an embarrassed smile. "I'm not a medical doctor, though I have considerable training in the healing arts, enough to be able to act as a combat medic. My field of study has been more generalised, though I am writing a dissertation on sealing magic."

"…A dissertation? As in, one you do at university? How old are you, exactly?" Harry asked, staring at her in surprise.

"I just turned 15, if you must know," she said archly.

"…15, and you're already at university? Hermione would envy you," Harry muttered. Rossweisse was only 15, and yet she was at university? Wow.

Rossweisse gave a sardonic chuckle, too old for her claimed age. "Few do or would. Anyway, I've finished the scan. Physically, you're dealing with the aftereffects of magical exhaustion and shock. We already administered a treatment for the Cruciatus Curse that was inflicted on you. It messes up the nervous system, it can even cause permanent nerve damage if used too long, or insanity."

"The Longbottoms," Harry murmured to himself, remembering what he saw in the Pensieve.

"Well, that was one of the more infamous examples. Magically…well, do you know what you did last night, Harry?"

"…I killed those Death Eaters, didn't I? But…that ice…how did I…?"

"That particular branch of ice magic is typically the domain of Jotunn, Ice Giants. The name's misleading, many Jotunn and their progeny are actually human-sized. You must have some Jotunn in your ancestry somewhere," Rossweisse mused. "You used it in a berserker rage, though it seems you used it to preserve Cedric Diggory's body, so you can't have been running completely on instinct. The problem is, the integration between your wizarding magic and the Jotunn power is somewhat unstable. It'll settle itself down over time, hopefully."

Harry nodded. A part of him felt guilty at all the killing…but another part of him was glad. After all, those Death Eaters were racist murderers. They were willing to sit back and watch him die. And Malfoy had nearly caused Ginny to die, subsumed by Voldemort, and the Basilisk could have killed people. That it hadn't was down mostly to sheer dumb luck. Of course, maybe he was still coming to terms with what had happened.

Still, another thought was worrying him. "Rossweisse, am I a prisoner?"

"Of course not! Do not misunderstand me, under most circumstances, I would be wary of someone who killed so many. But…I am also a soldier, and the Death Eaters are murderers themselves. Besides, you were in a berserk state. At the moment, you're very much a guest of Asgard, and once Lord Odin has smoothed things over for your return…"

"You mean IF he smooths things over," Harry said bitterly. "Many of those monsters were the great and the good of Magical Britain, Pureblood nobility. If the Ministry catches wind of that…well, they locked up Sirius on worse evidence." His eyes widened. "Pettigrew! Wormtail! Where is he…?"

"The Animagus you had frozen is in secure custody at the moment, here in Asgard," Rossweisse said. "Captain Brynhildr interrogated him. Rest assured, even if he is not exonerated in Britain, your godfather is more than welcome here, as are you, Harry. Lord Odin has assigned me to be your bodyguard and escort. Jotunn aren't that well-liked in Asgard for various reasons."

"…What about you?"

Rossweisse shook her head. "I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt. I don't think you are a monster."

Despite her tone and intentions, that very word echoed within him, and in the wrong way. He got flashes of how he slaughtered the Death Eaters, impaling them on icicles, freezing them over and smashing them…his stomach rebelled, and he leapt from the bed. He needed to vomit, now!

However, Rossweisse quickly held a small bin under his mouth, and he promptly emptied his stomach into it. He was breathing heavily. It wasn't the fact that he killed Death Eaters that bothered him. It was just that he took lives, so many lives, even in a berserk state. And brutally, to boot. What he had done, what he had glimpsed of his actions, seemed more like some sort of horror movie.

Where he was the monster.

Once more, acid and bile rushed up his throat, and splashed into the bin. He retched a few more times, but brought up nothing more, thankfully. Rossweisse gently rubbed his back. Once he had stopped retching, she put the bin down (using another magic circle to remove the vomit), and then gently wiped his lips with a tissue, before helping him to sit back down on the bed, sitting alongside him.

"Unnskyld," she said. "I mean, sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

Harry shook his head. "You just said monster. I know you were saying you didn't think I was a monster, but…I caught glimpses of what I did. I need a distraction, I…okay, so…let's begin with the obvious. The Norse gods exist?"

Rossweisse nodded. "Name a pantheon, and it more than likely exists. Greco-Roman, Egyptian, Shinto, and of course, the Biblical Factions, the Big Three. God and His Angels, the Devils, and the Fallen Angels. They're very real."

"…Bollocks," Harry retorted.

"Harry, I'm technically of divine blood myself, of Vanir heritage," Rossweisse said. "In many ways, we were lucky in the Norse faction." She looked away. "Centuries ago, the Biblical Factions were engaged in a war. Even now, they remain in a tenuous ceasefire rather than having a proper treaty. They try to avoid getting involved in the affairs of wizards because it may devolve into another Great War by proxy. A number of other pantheons decided to do so as well for the most part. There are exceptions to the rule, like Magicians, mages who have a contract with a supernatural being, usually a Devil."

"What, there's such a thing as wizards who have sold their soul to a Devil?"

"Not exactly. Believe it or not, Devils these days are apparently…nicer than they used to be. That was thanks to a civil war between the traditionalists who wanted to continue warring with Heaven and the Fallen Angels, even if it meant complete extinction, and other Devils who simply wanted to survive and enjoy the tenuous peace. Thankfully, the traditionalists, the Old Satan Faction, were overthrown, and the New Satan Faction took their place. Generally, in exchange for contracts, Devils often take some small amount of lifeforce or magical power, or even objects of value. And the contracts themselves can be surprisingly mundane. Like just socialising for an evening, or finding a lost valuable. This isn't to say all of the Devils are nice, but from what I have heard…well, many of them are just people like you and me. Not that you'd want to say that within earshot of anyone affiliated with Heaven or the Fallen Angels."

Harry shook his head in sheer bemusement at what he had heard. Devils existed? And many were decent people? This was a lot to take in. Eventually, he decided to change the topic. "Rossweisse…you guys found Voldemort's head, right? He's…dead? For good?"

Rossweisse looked pensive, before she said, "That body is dead. But we need to confirm that he is dead for good. Captain Brynhildr detected traces of Horcrux usage in him."

"Horcrux?"

"A kind of phylactery, a soul container. He split off parts of his soul and put them into objects to anchor himself to the mortal plane," Rossweisse explained. "Tampering with your soul like that is forbidden magic for a reason."

"The diary!" Harry hissed in sudden realisation. On her startled look, he explained, "Two years ago, I destroyed a diary belonging to Voldemort when he was younger, and it had something that claimed to be his 'memory'. It was trying to take over a friend of mine."

"It can't have been the only one. Captain Brynhildr said extensive Horcrux usage, meaning he had done it many times. I'll have to do some research on them," Rossweisse mused.

Before Harry could react, they heard the door open, and a familiar woman's voice say, "…Despite them now having custody of Crouch Junior?"

"That damn fool Fudge was accompanied by a Dementor. I had to work quickly to stop the Crouch brat from getting Kissed, and the way Fudge was ranting, he's not in any mood to believe the story. Probably for the best that we didn't bring the rat." This was an older man's voice.

Rossweisse shot to her feet, and turned to face the door. Harry looked over to the door to see Brynhildr, now dressed in a similar severe suit to Rossweisse's. Walking along next to her was an elderly man in robes, superficially like Dumbledore, but he had leaner features, his beard was less well-kempt, and he wore what looked like a monocle over one eye. That face also looked like it was made for leering. He should have been an unimpressive old man, and yet, Harry was wary just by the man's very presence.

The old man shuffled over to Harry, and looked him up and down. "So, you're awake, huh? Though you look like something the cat dragged in and pissed all over. Then again, I can't blame you, given what you just went through. The name's Odin, Lord of Asgard, Chief of the Aesir, and about a hundred other titles and epithets that I'll probably get bored shitless reciting if I was trying to impress you. You'd probably get bored listening to them too."

"…Probably," Harry said, which was possibly an unwise thing to let slip.

But the old man claiming to be Odin chuckled. "Oh, I like you already. Has Rossweisse been boring you?"

"Uhh, no, why would you say that? She's been a great help."

"Good. She's a very capable young lass, very promising, but she takes after Brynhildr here, and not always in a good way." In a faux-secretive whisper, Odin murmured, "Uptight prudes, you understand?"

Harry found his opinion of Odin, assuming he was telling the truth, to be taking something of a dive. Brynhildr was scowling, while Rossweisse grimaced. "I don't care whether they are 'uptight prudes', thank you very much. I heard you talking about Fudge and…" He blinked in sudden realisation. "Did you say Crouch Junior? As in…Barty Crouch Junior?"

"Yep. You're paying attention. Good. So…the good news. We delivered Cedric Diggory's remains to his parents and explained the situation to him, along with Dumbledore and your friends. What's more, we found the bastard who tampered with the Portkey. Long story short, the guy you thought was Mad-Eye Moody was actually Barty Crouch Junior. He got smuggled out of Azkaban by his father, his mother willingly taking his place thanks to Polyjuice Potion. Voldemort learned about that, and recruited him. Crouch Junior was using Moody as a source of ingredients for Polyjuice Potion. I've also informed Lady Amelia Bones, the head of the DMLE, of Pettigrew being in our custody."

Harry took a moment to digest this. Moody was actually a Death Eater this whole time? He was numb to the shock, for now, at least, just as he was numb to what he had done to those Death Eaters. Eventually, he said, "But there's bad news. You were saying something about Fudge earlier."

"Yeah. The damn fool came to Hogwarts with a Dementor in tow, and the Dementor nearly Kissed Crouch Junior. Thankfully, I was there to spank its arse and send it crying back to…well, whatever equivalent of a mother Dementors have," Odin said. "Unfortunately, Fudge was out for blood. He also had Aurors ready to arrest you, and while he did take Crouch Junior into custody, he refuses to listen."

"Let me guess, it's for the slaughter of many fine and upstanding Purebloods?" Harry snarled. He knew this was going to happen, he just knew.

"I'm afraid so. Don't worry, kid. You've still got yours truly in your corner, to say nothing of that brat Dumbledore and your friends. They're relieved to hear you're still okay. And I'll be bringing in your godfather at least to seek refuge here, once all is said and done. Believe it or not, the protection of Odin means something."

Odin's words may have been well-meant, but Harry wasn't sure he believed them. In fact, the only thing he could be sure of was that his life had been fucked over, again. And he didn't know what to do now…

CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:

Oh dear. Still, at least you have Rossweisse to console you, eh, Harry?

No numbered annotations this time.