Loki regarded Lucius over the edge of his book. The man was reading a contract of sort and signing it in a flurry of quill movement. Feeling eyes upon him, Lucius put his quill down and looked Loki's way. Hurriedly Loki directed his eyes to the paragraph that he must have read five times without registering a word. He waited until the scratching of quill on parchment started again to lift his eyes up.
When Lucius had dropped by the library, levitating a stack of paper, he had stopped dead at the door and arched an eyebrow at Loki's pillow fortress. The large upturned oval table was buried in mounds of blankets and pillows Loki nabbed from his room and various unused guest bedrooms. Loki himself had his feet up on a chair and a pillow dragged over his midsection. Lucius wordlessly placed the papers on an unused chair and ambled deeper into the library. When he came back, it was with a mahogany desk in tow. He set it across from Loki and started signing papers, something he usually did in the privacy of his own chamber.
And so began a new routine.
Everyday since the start of the summer, from noon till evening, Lucius would come by and do his paperwork while Loki read on.
This daunted Loki. Lucius adored Draco, that much Loki knew, but he never expressed that love directly or even indirectly. Hugs and praises were scarce. The only time Lucius spent with Loki was to teach him about Nobility and Blood Purity. These private lessons stopped when six-year-old Loki, bored and surfeited, had quoted words for words from the Pure-Blood Directory Lucius used as reference.
The older Loki was, the less contact he had with Lucius. Mealtimes were the only time Loki saw Lucius and those were always short and filled with stilted silence.
For Lucius to actively seek out Loki just to be near him, that did not bode well with Loki. The first few days since Lucius had moved his work to the library, Loki had absolutely nothing productive done. All the books he opened were closed without any drop of knowledge staying in his memory. Parchments for homework were covered in distracted rune diagrams. Lucius never said anything, so Loki gradually got used to the man's presence, only stealing glances every now and then.
Narcissa's familiar magic brushed against his sense. Loki turned just in time to see her knock against the ajar door and allow herself in.
'The afternoon tea, my dears.' She set the tray down on the table, complete with two cups and two plates full of finger sandwiches and checkered cakes. These were the usual afternoon tea things with golden vines and ever-moving lanceolate leaves on the cups. Narcissa gave Lucius hand a squeeze, and ever the gentleman, he lightly pecked the back of her hand, to which she granted a bemused smile.
Careful not to tangle the elegant dress she wore, Narcissa kneeled down in front of him. She held out two cupped hands, prompting him to raise his. The apple she dropped onto his hands was a lovely creation of nature. Small and round, it fitted perfectly into his palms. Rich glossy crimson with a patch of creamy green splashed near the stem, it was smooth and cool to his touch.
'The first to ripe of the season.' She leant in and lightly kissed his forehead. Smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles on the fabric, she made her way out. 'Dinner at six. Don't be late.' Narcissa warned, a threatening gleam entered her eyes.
'Yes, Mother.'
'Of course, dear.'
The door clicked shut soundlessly, as Narcissa's magic glided down the stairs.
Loki rolled the apple in his palm, deep in thought.
Narcissa and Lucius both had been acting rather outré. First Lucius seek to spend time in Loki's presence with no further intention. And now Narcissa offered to do domestic tasks willingly.
Narcissa, a lady in every sense, bustled about amidst flying pans and steaming pots?
That was too remote from reality for Loki to even consider.
The artistically displayed pink-and-yellow sponge cakes begged to differ, however. As well as breakfast, lunch and all the meals preceded them. Narcissa and Narcissa alone prepared all those.
His suggestion to find a new house-elf got shot down as soon as the words left his mouth. Narcissa put her foot down and refused to let another one of those abominable creatures into the manor. Loki clear-sightedly yielded to her wish at the glint of steel in her gaze. He had not attempt to broach the subject ever since, though he did make an effort to assist her in cooking every now and then.
Loki bit into the apple. The bland taste caught him of guard. For an apple two months shy of harvest to not be tart, magic must have been at work.
Loki did not anticipate how drastically different this summer compared to others, how enjoyable it was.
Sundays garden tea party where Lucius showed himself to be a cunning politician and masterful debater and engaged Loki in ongoing debates of power. Mornings where Narcissa walked with him, arm in arm, around the vast garden, admiring the clear blue sky of summer. Evenings where he, against Narcissa's insistence on needing no help, tended to shimmering pot of soup or just sat back and watched Narcissa work miracles with various types of colorful pastries.
Loki had known since day one that Lucius and Narcissa loved Draco, but Loki had been afraid of their rejection once they found out Loki was not their child. So Loki, jaded as he was, had distanced himself from them. He would rather be alone than get hurt later.
Narcissa and Lucius had taken his cue and refrained from showering him in love and care. They left him to his own device for the most part. Up until this summer when Narcissa greeted him with a hug as desperate as the first one Loki received from her at the station. He had barely stepped off the steps when someone locked their arms around his neck and pulled him close. His mind screamed at him to defend but the cascade of fair hair arrested his call for the fire. Narcissa hid her face on his shoulder, her silent tears soaking through the fabric.
To Malfoys, emotions were exploitable weaknesses that must not, under any circumstances, be displayed in pubic. Narcissa had foregone that principle at mere sight of him; even the head of house Lucius did not correct his wife's misconduct as he stood watching from behind.
His guarded demeanor melted away as days went by and nothing changed in Narcissa and Lucius' manners. He warily accepted the care and love they bestowed upon him. Without his consent, he grew accustomed to it. For the first time he knew what it felt like to have caring parents. Parents who paid attention to and loved him just because he was their child, without any hidden motives. They would stop loving him when they knew who hid beneath Draco, he knew that; but Loki gladly took the love as it was while it lasted.
A note from Potter reminded Loki of the promise he made at the start of the holiday. Loki felt a twinge of guilt at giving the boy false hope but he did not wish to leave the manor either. So he compromised by giving Potter's full reign of the house, asking Dobby, and by extension Kreacher, to keep an eye out on him.
Sooner than he wished, summer had ended. On the platform, for the first time in three years, Loki promised to return for Christmas.
'-co, -aco, DRACO MALFOY!' A sharp pain to his shin drew him out of his reverie and allowed him to register Theo's yell. They were sitting in a compartment, as the train picked up speed.
'Pardon?' Loki asked, indiscreetly brushing off Theo's shoes print on his trousers. Loki was tempted to kick back but he did bring this onto himself for not paying attention so he refrained
'I asked, 'How was your summer?'' Theo repeated his question with a resigned huff.
'It was pleasant.' Loki spoke the truth.
'That's the first time.' Theo's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline.
'There is a first for everything.' He carelessly shrugged, returning his attention to the half-finished essay.
Stomping from outside the door had him look up. It seemed the other three had arrived, and by the sound of it, arguing.
Granger's dismayed 'Crookshanks!' drew his attention to the yellow fur-ball that had slid itself in through the crack at the door. The cat leapt onto the table and regarded both him and Theodore with a funnily flat face.
'See Hermione! That monster wants to eat Scabbers the moment you let it out!' Weasley shrieked horrifiedly from beyond the door.
'Oh hush Ron.' Granger placated with experienced ease, as if she had been doing this for quite sometime. 'He just hates being in the cage, that's all.'
'You keep telling yourself that, but cats eat mice, Hermione. Someday Scabber will end up as food for it.' Weasley fired back almost immediately. It sounded like those two had had the same argument for a while...
Potter slid the door open thunderously and stalked in, making Theodore jump as he was scratching the furry cat behind its ears.
He hefted his trunk noisily on the rack and sat down with a 'thump' next to Loki, quietly steaming in annoyance.
'I can't tell Crookshanks not to eat mouse, can I?' Granger walked in, a cat carrier in hand.
'Then at least keep it caged when Scabber is around!' Weasley appeared, scowling at the ginger cat that had taken a liking to Theodore's legs.
'Crookshanks needs to move, Ronald! Didn't you see how quickly he ran when I opened the cage?' Granger sat down next to Theodore and picked up the ginger cat, who purred discontentedly.
'It can move when you leave him in the dormitory where Scabber is out of harm's way!' Weasley sat opposite of her, hand covering a lump on his chest.
As they bantered back and forth, Loki leant back and asked a disgruntled Potter, 'How long have they been at this?'
'A day.' Potter said tersely, tolerance nearly ran dry.
'They argue like an old married couple.' Theodore faux cooed from the side, just loud enough to be heard over the argument.
'We are not!' Granger denied immediately, cheeks flared red as she rounded on him.
'I'm just observing.' Theo raised his hand defensively but a cheeky grin played across his lips.
The two came to an agreement quickly after that. Weasley reluctantly allowed Crookshanks to be out of the cage with the condition that Granger held onto it at all time.
Peace finally returned to the compartment. Loki started on his essay where he had left off, keeping an ear out when Potter explained Mr. Weasley's warning regarding one fugitive of the century, Sirius Black.
'But-' Potter hesitated briefly before continuing, 'Sirius Black is not a Dark wizard. I guess?' He ended with an upward tilt, like he wasn't sure of that himself.
'Didn't I explicitly tell you not to go into any other rooms?' Loki asked rhetorically without pausing his writing. Really, Potter disregarding his warning and snooping around the Black ancestral house was a long time coming.
'There was nothing to do,' Potter said, having the decency to sound embarrassed, 'And I did ask Dobby to check for spells and traps. And I only took a peak.'
'What makes you say Sirius Black is not a Dark Wizard?' Loki asked instead. Reprimanding Potter would just make Loki a hypocrite.
'He has Gryffindor-' Potter cut himself off as the train slowly pulled to a stop in a middle of nowhere.
'We're here? Thank Merlin I'm starving.' Weasley exclaimed, already making his way for the door.
'Have you gone doolally, Weasley?' Loki did not even need to look to know Theodore had his face in his hand had gone. 'The train left barely an hour ago.'
Weasley retorted something back but Loki did not pay any attention. He was busy squinting to see through the frosting window. Several somethings were out there. Hollow malignant somethings.
Lights went out.
Confused chatter echoed up and down the length of the train.
One of the beings boarded the train.
'I'll go see the driver.'
Loki's hand shot out to grasp Potter.
'Stay.' He commanded, shiver wracking through his body.
Potter questioningly sat back down, staring at Loki and the shaking hand that was holding his elbow. Loki hastily withdrew and pulled his sleeve over it.
Pathetic, being frightened by mere presence of the unknown. But that magic stroke fear into his very existence.
They all sat very still and quiet. Foggy breath rose up with each suspended exhale.
The door slid slowly open. Loki only managed a glimpse at the cloaked figure before his vision was swallowed in darkness.
He was back in that endless void. No ups or down. Nothing.
Falling without falling.
So so cold. Unnatural cold seeped into his bones. He dared not breathe.
Profound darkness. So dark that he did not even know he had eyes anymore. He dared not blink.
He wanted to die…
A flash of white light appeared in his peripheral. He did not look. There was no point in humouring a hallucination.
Strangely, black bled into deep murky grey from where that white light flashed. He chanced a breath. The cold was not as cutting as it had been before.
Colours filtered back into his vision. Rocking movement beneath his feet tethered him to reality. The cold had made permanent residence under his skin though.
Loki almost cried in relief when a flaming fox came to life on his palm after conjuring up nothing for many tries.
The fluff-tailed fox trotted around in worry. It leapt off his palm, leaving behind a brilliant trail of fire and settled down near his neck, painstakingly chasing away the cold.
People were talking in the background. Loki's attention was on the bundle of warmth on his shoulder and keeping his hands from shaking too violently.
'-dementors of Azkaban.' Someone said.
So that's what they are. Loki had heard of dementor of course. Foulest creatures to exist. Soul-sucking fiends. Long exposure to their presence may drive one insane. Even Lucius shudder at mere mention of them. What are Azkaban jailers doing here in Hogwarts ground?
Someone insistently snapped fingers under his nose. The fiery fox bristled up, getting annoyed on his behalf. Loki glanced up with dead eyes.
The man might be in his early-thirty though his peppered hair and shabby clothes added another five or ten years. He looked at Loki with green concerned eyes and handed him a piece of silver-wrapped chocolate.
'Eat, it'll help,' he instructed, putting the chocolate on the table when Loki didn't move to take it. 'I'll talk with the conductor, excuse me.' He said, strolling out of the compartment.
Loki returned to his task. Helheim, why are his hands still shaking? The cold should have gone away by now.
The fox crackled at him in concern. Loki shook his head minutely. Forcing his hand still, he picked up the black quill. He was better off resting, but he would rather do something, anything, to get his mind off that plane of darkness.
The fox brushed its tiny face against his cheek, crackling its farewell when he was relatively safe behind Hogwarts' oaken doors. The castle musty rock solid magic barricaded the hollow magic from dementors stationed as sentry guards around Hogwart's ground.
'I'll be heading for the dormitory.' Loki said, breaking away from the stream of students going towards the Great Hall. He could feel the others' concerned eyes on him, but right now he just wanted to curl up on a sofa in front of the fireplace, soaking in the comfortable heat.
It was supposed to be a short nap, he would wake up when the feast ended and go for his bed.
When he opened his eyes to the murky yellow green of the water beyond the window, he cursed himself badly. Flipping the blanket to the side, he slid off the bed, still in school robe and dashed for the bathroom.
There were only a few students left in the Great Hall when he arrived; most had already left for their first class. Theodore, however, was leisurely sipping juice while reading a copy of Daily Prophet. Knowing he had no way out of this, Loki dropped down next to him, reaching for a piece of toast and jam. He would rather get this over with with a full stomach rather than an empty one.
'So,' Theo started, casually folding the newspaper in quarter, 'How is your morning?' Theo asked pleasantly, as if this was just a normal, informal conversation between two friends in one usual morning. Not an interrogation.
'It is very good.' Loki said amiably, matching Theodore's tone. He would allow Theodore full control of this conversation. 'How is yours?' He asked, going along with Theo.
'It's nice. I had a good sleep last night.' And without letting Loki talk, Theodore continued, 'You had quite a deep one as well. When I came back last night, you were dozing on the sofa, sleeping the world away even when I levitated you to your bed.'
So it was Theodore. 'You have my thanks.'
Ignoring his companion, Theodore carried on, 'I suppose it was reasonable, you must have exerted your magic keeping your little fox going. And that was one fierce fox,' Theodore smirked around his cup, 'He charred Potter's sleeve when the baboon shook your shoulder and put us under constant watch for the rest of the ride.' Loosing all his mirth, Theodore turned dead serious. 'That begs the question of why you felt the need to conjure up a cursed-fire fox right after that dementor left. Was it because of the cold?'
Loki said nothing, partly because him being afraid of the cold was not a huge leap of logic for Theodore to connect and partly because he wanted to see how Theo would do to pry his mouth open on this matter. No one had ever succeeded when Loki elected to keep the secret.
'It's not just the cold, is it? I have seen you plodding in the snow before.' Theodore shook his head slightly. 'No, there is something else. Something, a memory, fear that made you go rigid and shaken and scarcely responsive to anything. I took a peek at the paper you frantically wrote. Your usual cursive quillmanship were illegible lines on parchment.'
'It was nothing.' Loki denied, successfully repressing a shudder as he thought of that void.
Theo propped his face with his left hand, looking away from Loki. 'Dementors do that to everyone. They call upon despair and fear, trapping people in an endless cycle of hopelessness. No one is unaffected. That dementor relived my Mother's death. The lights leaving her eyes, her slackened grip on my hand, Father violently pulling it away from me and kissing her cold forehead. They were so real.' Theodore cleared his throat. 'Potter even fainted, hearing a woman's scream in his head. It's not wrong fearing your fear.' Theo subtly pulled a sleeve over his shaking right hand.
'There truly is nothing.' Loki insisted stubbornly. The less people knew of his fear, the less chance his phobia would be used against him.
Theodore stared long and hard at him. Suddenly he stood up, slinging his bag over the shoulder. 'Alright,' he announced, 'We have Arithmancy in thirty seconds. Have to run for it then.' He moved away from the seat, leaving Loki behind, bewildered.
Hurriedly, he jogged to catch up with Theo. 'Are you not going to demand that I give my answer?' Because no one ever left him alone if he had not told them what they wished to hear. They sought retribution and revenge upon him.
'No,' Theodore answered easily, steps unfaltering. 'That's your secret. Whether you enclose it to me or not, it's your choice. Oh, and please tell the other three that you are fine. They didn't seem to believe me when I informed them that you were soundly sleeping in bed hugging your pillow. Rowdy disruptive refractory Gryffs with zero sense of house animosity bowling towards Slytherin table during breakfast!'
Theodore did not notice Loki had fallen behind a step. If he did, he didn't say anything.
'Welcome to your first ever Defence Against the Dark Arts class, Malfoy. I hope you have reviewed your first and second year book because this class won't be a breeze.' Weasley mock bowed as Loki came through the door.
'I thank you for your concern, but rather worrying about me, shouldn't you make an attempt to raise your grade to a more acceptable level?' Loki snidely remarked, watching the redhead's face flame up.
'Stop messing with him, Ronald.' Granger thumped her book on the redhead's back before things had a chance to escalate. 'And you should attend Defence class more, Draco.' She side-eyed Loki, displeasure radiating from her glare.
'Attendance was not explicitly stated to be compulsory.' Loki shrugged carelessly before adding. 'I did attend the first Defence class each year. Those two teachers? They were clowns with nil expertise in Defence. Why should I waste valuable time listening to those baboons when I could spend those in the library, brushing up on dozens of defence and offense spells?'
'They are still our professors!' Granger objected, 'We should respect them by attending their class at the very least!'
'I respect those who deserve respect.' Loki countered succinctly.
'Aren't you all lively today?' A voice from behind made him jump a little. It was the same man that gave Loki a piece of chocolate on the train. His magic, oddly enough, radiated wolfish nature and feral. He gave Loki a warm half smile when Loki turned around to look at him. 'Follow me now, we are using a different classroom.' He said to the body of students milling about in the room and walked out of the door.
'That's Lupin, another new Defence teacher. At least this one seemed competent. He chased away the dementor on the train with a Patronus.' Theodore whispered to him as they walked along the deserted corridor.
Loki nodded, remembering the flash of white he saw in the plane of darkness. Lupin had Loki's gratitude; any longer in that void would have driven Loki to insanity.
Lupin led them to the staffroom, where Snape was occupying a low armchair. With a contemptuous sneer, his head of house brushed past the gaggle of students to leave the room. His eyes found Loki's, and for a tenth of a second, Loki could have sworn he saw concern in those dark eyes.
Lupin introduced them all to a boggart taking residence in a wardrobe in the corner.
'The thing that finishes a boggart is laughter. What you need to do is force it to take on a shape you find amusing. And the spell for that is 'Riddikulus'. Neville, you up first.' Lupin beckoned for Longbottom to come forward, who shook like a leaf in the autumn gale.
A successful 'Riddikulus' from Longbottom dressed boggart-Snape in long, laced-trim dress and vulture hat. Loki openly stared at it. Theodore's disbelieving 'this is branded into my memory' informed Loki he wasn't alone on his opinion.
There was a roar of laughter. Even Lupin was not unaffected.
'It's all about the power of your mind. Now I want you to take a moment to think of the things that scare you the most and how you might force it to look comical.' He instructed 'When you finish, form a line so we can get started.'
'How could you make your mother's dead body fun?' Theodore deadpanned.
'How could you make dark and cold fun?' Loki answered with his own question.
In mutual agreement, they moved to the very back of the line, leaving the hyped up students up front. Loki would rather not deal with his fear this way. There was nothing comical about his fear. The dark was absolute. The void was absolute. Even the cold was absolute. He accepted his fear and he would leave it at that.
'You are scared of the dark?' Theodore asked, leaning against the wall comfortably. A 'crack' sounded in the front made a mummy fell forward.
'Yes.' Loki said at last. Trusting Theodore was already a risk as it was. Loki hoped he had not made a mistake.
Theodore did not acknowledge further than nodding his head.
'You rarely talk about your mother.' Loki remarked. He knew Mrs. Nott passed away when Theo was young. The circumstances surrounded her demise were a mystery to everyone but the Notts themselves.
'She died and that is that. There is nothing else to say.' Theo exhaled, a faraway look entering his eyes.
Loki left Theodore to his memory and tuned in to the progressing class. A spider five times Loki's size appeared for Weasley. What reckless bravery. They were showcasing their weakness to the world, an open invitation for everyone who wants to exploit.
A crack and Potter confidently strode forward. And then Lupin was there, lunging to stand in front of Potter. The boggart changed into silver moon.
In the four seconds that the boggart-dementor was present, Loki's breath hitched.
The pressure vanished just as fast as it appeared but already his arms were trembling where they crossed over his chest.
Lupin locked the boggart back to the wardrobe and dismissed the class.
'Mr. Malfoy, a word before you leave.'
Shooing Theodore away, Loki carefully walked to the front of the class. Lupin waited till the last student disappeared from the door to talk.
'How are you feeling?' Lupin started off. It seemed this morning everyone was dead-set on his well being.
'Well enough, thank you sir.' Loki said, wanting to get this over and done with. 'Is there anything else you would like to discuss with me, sir?' If Lupin held him behind just to ask after Loki's health, he would be downright annoyed. He needed not being babied.
Lupin mulled on his question before deciding. 'No, that is all,' which clearly suggested 'that is definitely not all'. 'I'm glad you are well. You can go now, Mr. Malfoy.'
Loki was curious but he did not have the heart to weasel the information out of Lupin so he just took his leave, not before confirming his suspicion, though.
'Full moon is three weeks from now. Have you any plans to contain your wolf self?'
Lupin's startled and alarmed reaction told Loki what he suspected was true.
Their new Defence teacher had lycanthropy.
Being afflicted with lycanthropy didn't make Lupin abysmal at teaching, however. In fact this was the first Defence class Loki was genuinely interested in and made an effort to attend every lessons.
Ancient Runes bored Loki, who grew up with Runes, lived and breathed runic language so of course he could very well translate Runes into English. He was proficient could draw up a five-tiered Runic diagram in his sleep. The one and only thing that kept him in this class was numerical Runes and their fascinating effect if added correctly to the lexical diagrams he was used to.
Arithmancy was not what Loki had expected. Numbers, in his opinion, were constant and true. Yet, in this class, he was taught to use numbers to predict the future, a protean variable that was neither right nor wrong.
When Halloween came and everyone from third-year and up departed for their Hogsmeade trip, Loki opted to stay behind. Dementor sentries stationed around the village were too close for Loki's comfort.
Potter brightened a little when Loki notified the kid he would stay in the castle, only to darken ten minutes later when Loki exasperatedly told him off for his lack of forethought. The Dursleys had never signed any Hogwarts related papers, therefore, there presented no possibilities for McGonagall to know whether a scribble Potter himself jotted down were authentic or not. And yet the simpleminded brought this problem up to McGonagall first thing and blew up his own chance of going to Hogsmeade.
The kid stormed off angrily, leaving Loki alone with his experimented numerical-constructed Runes diagram. Shrugging, he scrutinized every symbols again before activating the first circle. It lit up in indigo, twinkling harmlessly on the parchment. So far so good but he wouldn't put it past him for some mishap to occur.
'What in Merlin's pointed hat happened to your hair?' Theodore's mouth dropped open at the sight of Loki sitting in his bed, doing his utmost to ignore his dancing hair as he pushed the bed curtain aside
'A fwooper should have come after uruz, not an acromantula.' Loki said, irritably brushing sudden long bang aside. This was as close as Loki could get to admit his mistake.
'How could you mix up four and eight? They are like, one doubles the other.' Theodore said, hand dragging over his face in resignation.
Loki pinked in shame. He rarely made mistakes, much less making ones in the field he was most competent in.
'Nevermind, don't answer that.' Theodore approached his bed and hoisted his sack onto Loki's legs. 'I'm leaving my sack of candies with you. Take whatever you want. I am heading for dinner.' Theodore glanced up at his hair, which had changed yet again, and just stared at it. Finally he asked in incomprehension, 'Do you know that your hair is dong a wonderful imitation of a steaming bowl of soup? Or potage more like.' Theodore mumbled to himself, inspecting the 'wonder' Loki's hair had made itself into. 'No, not potage. Potage doesn't have seafood. Must be bisque then. Bisque, or shrimp chowder, yes, shrimp chowder, that is definitely a shrimp's tail.' Theodore tugged at a strand of hair that must have presented itself as shrimp in a bowl of soup. 'Hair shrimp chowder. Shrimp hair. Head of chowder-' Theodore listed a slew of name combination, each getting progressively more outrageous than the previous.
Loki tuned Theo's idiocy out, rummaging around the bag for some stringmints. Victoriously pulling out the package, he noticed Theo's listing speed had slowed down significantly.
'Bowlhair. Chowdery hair. Chowdery head. Chowderhead... Chowderhead?' Theodore ended with a question and dazedly stared at Loki's hair, which Loki could feel untangle and rearrange horizontally
Horror slammed into Loki with the force of a boulder rushing down from the mountaintop just as Theodore hugged the bedpost for support for laughing too hard.
'Chowderhead!' Theodore howled, uncaring of how loud he was being. 'Oh Merlin, your hair knows you better than you know yourself.' Theo wiped away tears, 'You are never living this down, Draco. I would make certain of it.' Theodore promised, still laughing madly.
Hoisting himself up with the use of the bedside table, Theodore drunkenly walked out, missing the doorknob a few times because of hiccupping laughter.
'Chowderhead,' Loki heard Theodore mumbled gleefully to himself as the kid walked down the stairs, 'Oh this is golden!'
Loki was tempted to smash the glass window and befriend the giant squid. At least it didn't understand human language to mock him. Loki threaded his hand through his hair, hoping for messy soft hair, only to encounter hardened spikes.
It had been hours since the accident. Loki prayed the effect would wear off soon.
As if changing style wasn't enough, his hair was now shifting colors.
Right now the French braid slung over his left shoulder showcased a puke-inducing hot pink.
Loki pulled his hood further down, walking faster. He shouldn't have risked venturing down the kitchen for a cup of chamomile tea, but the amount of sweets he consumed upsetted his digestion so badly he felt queasy from the energy rush.
He drank the tea in record time, asking for a piece of burnt toast to nibble on when he was safe in the dorm. The house-elf wasn't happy when Loki asked him to deliberately burn food but he complied, though with much agitation. Thanking the house-elf profusely, he hightailed out of the kitchen and dashed for the dungeon before the feast finished, hands keeping the hood in place.
Loki nimbly leapt behind a suit of armor as a shadow appeared around the corner.
It was just Granger's cat, Crookshanks, and its new friend, a black shaggy dog. They were moving towards the great door that led outside.
Loki stood up, intended to finish the run in half a minute when a magic sense hit him. The cat was a magical animal, but the dog's magic was, by no means, animalistic. It was the same as that of wizards and witches.
An animagus.
Loki abandoned his run. Instead, he stalked the unusual pair. Curiosity would forever be his downfall.
The cat and dog ambled towards the Whomping Willow, Loki followed not too closely behind, but far enough to see the ginger tail of Crookshanks nimbly evading the battering branches, placed his paw on the trunk and disappeared down the base of the trunk. The dog followed soon after.
Loki crossed the distance in six large strides, careful not to make any sound and slid down quickly. He would not take his chance when the tree depetrified.
The dirt tunnel was too low to stand at full height so Loki had to walk bending double. Loki didn't light his wand, relying in his sense of magic for direction. The two animals were up ahead. And above.
The tunnel seemed to stretch on forever until it began to raise, dirt floor changed into moldy wood and he could finally stand.
Loki was under no illusion that he had not been discovered yet. Dogs, even an animagus, had heightened sense of smell and in this dusty room; Loki's scent was no different than a forest fire in the Forbidden Forrest. Still, he had to keep up appearance, so with deliberate pickiness, he chose the less moth-eaten wood panels that would least likely make any sound and made his way for the stairs.
The dog crouched behind the closed door. The moment Loki opened the door on the second landing, it would leap straight for his neck, tear out the artery and Loki would bleed to his death.
None of that would happen though, since Loki didn't plan on opening the door the usual way, turning the doorknob and poking his head in, no.
He kicked it down with enough force to break off the hinges. The dog yelped in surprise but lunged for him the moment it saw him.
With agile movements, Loki bent backwards and let it soar down the stairs. He quickly dashed inside for the little moonlight passed through wood-paneled windows. The dog growled madly, feet thumping on the stairs to get back to the room.
Loki was ready this time. As the dog lunged again, this time for his thigh, Loki pointed his wand at it and performed the animagus reversal spell. The dog's snout turned into the face of a gaunt man mid-leap. Loki sidestepped and the man, without any means to stop his momentum, crashed into the wall, shaking the whole foundation for a millisecond. The man shook his head like a dog shaking water out of its fur, and turned to look at Loki, feral and inhuman. Involuntarily taking a half-step back, Loki was ready to fire another spell.
That brief moment of weakness, however, changed the whole game. Out of nowhere, the cat came flying, its magic insignificant for Liki to pay much attention. Crookshanks scratched, spat and meowed ferociously at his face. The time he needed to dislodge the ruddy cat off his face was enough for the man to regain his bearings. Loki was pushed painfully down the floor, a knife to his throat and a knee on his ribs. The man's stale breath made Loki gag. Without a thought, Loki grounded out.
'Everte Statum!'
Black, for that was the exact same men Loki saw in the cover of Daily Prophet, was thrown backwards, cracking his head with a sickening crunch against the floor. Loki wasted no time conjuring up a length of rope and bound the man hands and legs with it.
'And you,' Loki turned towards the crouching cat, his hand outstretched. 'Stay down.' He erected a golden dome around it, adding a Silence charm to block out incessant hissing and meowing.
Mindful of his pounding head, he sat up, hand inching for a bump on the back of his head. His hair, thankfully, had shrank back to the original length and texture. He hissed in annoyance as he accidentally pushed a bit too hard on the bump.
The ginger cat was scratching frenziedly at the glowing dome at the edge of his vision but Loki's attention was fully on the unconscious bound man in front.
'Lumos Maxima.' Loki muttered, blinking rapidly at the sudden rush of light. The fiery fox appeared unbidden, crackling up at him in greetings. Loki spared it a glance before refocusing on Black.
Loki had to wonder. For twelve years, Black was imprisoned in Azkaban and frequented hourly by dementors, and yet the man did not seem like a living dead, soulless human. He still had his wit with him; wit in just the right amount to identify and attack an enemy but not enough to rationalize breaking into Hogwarts during school years where teachers could easily overpower him.
Was he so obsessed about Potter's death? If he broke out just to murder Potter without fearing any consequences, why had he not done so sooner? Why wait for Halloween, when Potter was amidst the whole body of students, to break into the school? Was Potter even truly Black's target?
Narcissa rarely talked about her family but when she did, not once did she mention the name Sirius Black. During his brief stay in the Black's Ancestral Home back in second year, he had had a morning studying the large family tree tapestry. There were several scorch marks upon it; Sirius Black was one of them. To be disowned and blasted off the family tree, family members must have gone against the family's ideology, in the case of Blacks, Toujours Pur.
Always Pure.
Sirius Black must have associated himself with Muggles or Muggle-born wizards and witches for his whole life or at least for a period of time to incur such wrath from the family. Assumed that Sirius Black repented for his wrongdoings by joining force with Voldemort, shouldn't his name be restored on the family tree? Walburga Black passed away in 1985; Sirius Black's incarceration happened in 1981. The four-year gap provided enough time to put Sirius Black's name back in its place. Walburga Black had, obviously, not done so.
Was Black truly Voldemort's second-in-command as rumor put him to be?
A memory came to the front of his mind. When Loki first caught glimpse of the cat and dog, they were not coming from the direction of the Great Hall. They were coming from the empty Gryffindor Tower.
Loki exhaled resignedly. Nothing was adding up. The only sensible explanation he could get was from the subject of his thoughts. Pointing his wand at the bound man, Loki said, 'Rennervate', and watched Black weakly stir awake. He struggled at the rope binding his arms and legs together, blinking blearily at Loki.
'Cissy?' Black slurred at the sight of Loki.
'Wrong.' Loki disagreed and ventured a guess that Cissy was Narcissa's shortened name back in her childhood. 'I am her son.'
Black stared at him blankly before his brain clicked. 'Lucius Malfoy Junior.' He chuckled hoarsely, sarcasm dribbled off his very being. Black had his priority straight, he could be half-starved but not half-sardonic. 'Come to take me back to Azkaban?'
'Should I?' Loki asked rhetorically.
'Shouldn't you?' Black countered, 'Look at all the money and fame you could get.' He said, leaning against the wall, 'After all isn't that what you Malfoys care about?' Black eyed the kitchen knife lying between him and Loki.
Without Loki's consent, the little fox leapt off his shoulder and pounced on the knife. The wooden handle caught fire immediately, while the steel blade stayed for a second longer before succumbing to the intense heat.
'Fiendfyre, huh?' Black tore his gaze from the burning mess on the floor, 'Even manage to tame it. Lucy prepares you well for the life of a Death Eater.' He sneered at Loki.
Loki, for his part, did not react more than blinking; it was tiresome correcting people's assumption of him, once with Weasley was enough.
'You are not really after Potter, are you? Loki got straight to the point, he had little time to dawdle before curfew.
Black blinked at Loki, eyes wide and cautious.
'Am I correct?' Loki asked again impatiently. 'Yes or no?' Loki prompted when Black did not reply.
Black stayed silent for a long time, tempting Loki to just go back to the castle and forget this encounter.
'I can never bring myself to harm Harry.' Black finally answered, subdued and a glint of longing flashed in his eyes. That didn't actually answer Loki's question but it confirmed his suspicion either way.
'What's your objective?' Loki asked, squatting down to eye-level with Black. Black obediently stayed in Azkaban for eleven years, what had transpired in the twelfth year to make him break out?
'I have no need to tell that to the likes of you.' The prison escapee snarled at Loki.
Loki blinked once, twice and then bursted out laughing. He could see Black startle at his laugh but Black's refusal was such a ridiculous notion that Loki could not help laughing.
'Hugin and Munin, this does crack me up.' Loki exclaimed to himself, hand holding his side. Smile still firmly in place, Loki addressed Black and watched in satisfaction, as the man's grey complexion got a bit more transparent. 'Would you rather I walked back up to the castle and told Dumbledore that you were here, bound and gagged, after I managed to get free when you abducted me? You think whose word Dumbledore is going to take for it? Yours, a fugitive, Muggle murderer, rumoured Voldemort right hand, or mine, a thirteen-year-old student with pristine record and seamless acting skill?' Loki wiped the smile off his face and leant in closer into Black's face. 'I heard it was Dumbledore that put you in Azkaban without trial. Do you fancy taking another chance with the old man? I do believe, right now, I am the only one that is granting you the benefit of the doubt. So either you take your chance with me and spill your little secret or I will just call a Dementor here and be done with it.' Loki finished off dramatically and let the daunting silence do the rest of the work.
That was an empty threat but Black did not know that. And judging by Black's fraught gasps, the man bought his threat and was reconsidering Loki's offer.
Grudgingly, Black recounted his side of story and Loki undesirably became the first listener.
'Don't believe me, do you?' Black called after him as Loki stood up wordlessly and walked to where the cat was observing the conversation the whole time. 'I was a fool for trusting a Malfoy.' He said emotionlessly, like he had expected this outcome.
'Your words were true.' Loki refuted, retracting the golden dome. The cat locked eyes with him, whiskers twitching. 'There were no signs to indicate that you were lying.' Crookshanks rubbed his head against his knee so Loki deemed it safe to scoop the cat in his arms. 'There are something I need to verify. Keep yourself out of troubles. If you are caught before Christmas ends, I cannot guarantee your freedom.'
With an armful of cat, Loki walked towards the stairs, leaving the cursing man in the dark with his hands and legs still bound.
Black could get out of Azkaban, an inescapable prison, he could find his way out of ropes and knots.
Crookshanks remained docile on his way back to the castle. Loki used the warmth from its furry body to warm up his cold hands.
Unsurprisingly, the great door was closed. Loki knocked on it a few times and stood back as a teacher, most likely, undid the various locks from the other side.
McGonagall came flying out, grabbed his arm and dragged him back inside roughly. Crookshanks yowled, displeased at the rough treatment.
'Fifty points from Slytherin.' McGonagall announced, chest heaving in anger and ...was that worry Loki saw her eyes? 'For wandering out of school in a lockdown. Now, do you want to tell me why you were outside, Mr. Malfoy?' She looked at him over her square spectacles.
'I saw Miss Granger's cat heading towards the Forbidden Forest. So I thought I could bring him back to her.' Loki lied through his teeth, holding up Crookshanks for emphasis.
'Why did capturing a cat take so much time?'
'Crookshanks proves to be an elusive creature. He outran and outmaneuvered me when I grabbed his middle too loosely.' Loki recounted the event from his imagination.
'Why did you not use your magic?'
'Hogwarts Rules regarding the use of magic states that 'magic that is not related to studies may only be cast with the permission and supervision of a faculty member, Prefect, or Head Boy/Girl.' I was by myself.' Loki recited
'The rule also allows you to perform magic to defend yourself, or to respond to danger.' McGonagall said.
'Yes,' Loki assented easily. 'But I hardly consider a half-Kneazle to be a threat to my life.'
McGonagall studied him searchingly. Loki made certain to catch her eyes every time her gaze roamed over his face.
'Go to the hospital wing and have Madam Pomfrey check over those scratches.' Mcgonagall finally said. 'Then get to the Great Hall, all the students are there. Sirius Black is reported to have infiltrated Hogwarts. No more wandering around. Is that clear?'
'Yes Professor.' Loki answered dutifully. McGonagall walked past him and disappeared into a classroom.
Alone, he went to the Hospital Wing. Now that McGonagall pointed out, his face did feel kind of irritating with stinging pain. No doubt from the monster he was holding his arms.
'Do that again and I will tell my fire fox to set your fur ablaze.' Loki held the cat to his eyes and threatened it. Crookshanks gazed back at him with its squashed face, tail swishing back and forth uncaringly.
Madam Pomfrey fussed over him, and by the time she was done disinfecting the minuscular wounds, he had felt asleep leaning sideways, Crookshanks obediently curled in on his lap.
Loki woke up next day to a stiff neck and pins and needles on his thighs, which were strangely heavy and warm. He shook his leg a little. Whatever that was on his thighs jerked upwards instantly and Loki was rewarded with the feeling of something sharp pierce through his trousers. He glanced down and saw Crookshanks standing on four legs, anchoring himself with the use of his claws.
Last night really happened then.
Black's story was improbable, but Loki had detected no lies coming from the man. The promise was an absolute spur-of-the-moment thing. Everything related to Black's wrongful incarceration rubbed Loki the wrong way.
Loki intended to carry that out. But first-
'You go after the rat all the time because you sense deception from him, yes?' Loki asked Crookshanks. No answer was forthcoming but Loki did not expect one as he carried on. 'From now on, leave that thing to me. Don't go after him anymore. Do you understand?' He was talking to a cat. Loki had slightly gone round the bend.
Crookshanks gazed at him intently, as if judging how truthful he was being. Finally decided that Loki could have a better plan than him, the cat yawned widely and arched his back in a nice, joints-loosening stretch.
'Let's get you back to your owner.' Loki sighed, lifting the cat up. 'Time to meet the rat.'
Luckily for Loki, the three Gryffs were all there, having their breakfast and deep in conversation. They all jumped when he cleared his throat sharply.
'Crookshanks!' Granger stood up and eagerly took the cat from his arms, 'Where have you been? She stroked the cat's ears and beamed happily at Loki 'Thank you, Draco.'
'Get that thing away from Scabbier!' Weasley yelled and held a bump in his shirt tighter, scooting away as far as he could, which wasn't really far seeing the twin sat right next him. 'Why did you bring it back to her?' Weasley asked him miserably.
'I saw him wandering outside the infirmary. I believe you would appreciate if I brought him back to you.' Loki said to Granger, completely ignoring Weasley.
'You have been in the infirmary last night?' Potter piped in without letting Granger a chance to talk. 'What happened?'
'Nothing really.' Loki shrugged 'I merely found myself in the need of Madam Pomfrey's assistance regarding a magical mishap.'
Snicker sounded behind Loki's back and he did not need to look to know Theodore had joined the conversation.
'Don't you know you look dashing in long hair?' Theodore asked innocently, 'Imagine all the style you could do with it. An updo, pony tail, curl, side-swept bangs,' Theodore tipped off his fingers accordingly, 'Or better yet, a chowderhead' He finished with a flourish, barely keeping his laughter in.
Loki's eyebrow twitched uncontrollably.
'Malfoy in long hair?' George said
'I would love to see that.' Fred continued
'State your price and I'll think about it' Theodore said
'Enough.' Loki grounded out 'We have classes to attend.' Then he stretched a hand to Weasley 'I have a spell to protect Scabber from Crookshanks.'
Weasley looked at his offered hand, to his face and then to Theodore before deciding.
'Uh, thanks but no thanks. I don't want Scabber to suddenly have tails for fur-'
'I am performing a spell, not drawing up a runic diagram.' He clarified but coudn't stop himself from excusing his mistake, 'I was unfamiliar with the application of numerical Runes and made an imprecise calculation. That will not happen again.' He guaranteed. There was no way he would allow himself to commit errors again.
Loki patiently held his still, waiting for Weasley's decision. At long last, Weasley put his hand inside his inner pocket and pulled out the squirming rat.
Scabber truly was an animagus, Peter Pettigrew in disguise for possibly twelve years. No one ever looked twice at a battered rat and think it a murderer
Loki carefully closed his hand around the man-rat midsection, tight enough to show Pettigrew he could choke the frail body of a rodent easily. He whipped out his wand and waved it in a meaningless pattern while the real tracking spell had already been casted wandlessly and wordlessly.
He placed Scabber right under Crookshanks' nose, ignoring Weasley's protest and hoped that the cat kept his words. The ginger cat sniffed at the rat once then turning his whole body away from the delicious meal offered to him in a silver platter.
'This spell masks Scabber's scent from Crookshanks and every cat in the vicinity. It is still a prototype, so make sure to bring him to me again a week later.' Loki explained to a shell-shocked Weasley, pushing the rat back into his hand. 'I am heading to class now.' He said, walking away.
His head were swimming in thousands of different scenarios how Black's freedom could be achieved.
A/N: Sorry for the long wait, it is this time of the year again when deadlines and projects just appear out of no where. I have to cut this chapter up into two parts, though the second part won't probably be as long as this one, but who knows, I never thought Remodel would be this behemoth of word count when I started the first chapter. Thank you for reading. Please leave a review on your way out.