A/N: I'd check that you read ch 25 first since it was posted a few days ago too.

Remus opened the door for Loki Thursday evening, eyes big and hollow from his transformation. There was a new bandage on his collarbone, and his silvery aura was faint and faded, like a fine coating of dust. There had to be something he could do about that, Loki mused. It reflected poorly on Harry. Perhaps he could contact a potioner or something.

"Ready?" Loki said.

"Of course," Remus said. "You dropped Harry off alright?"

"Of course."

Remus's choice of apparel for the evening was a moth-eaten sweater and a pair of patched trousers. Loki had opted for a slim suit and tie that Ragnok assured him was very flattering. His hair was combed and elegant. Together, they must have made an…odd impression.

"Well, best not be late," Loki said. He stepped laterally onto a ley line and apparated, Remus's crack just a second behind.

It was late afternoon, and older students were streaming through the doors as their school day came to an end.

The guard buzzed the pair through the gates and they walked into the school, through a little yard.

"Now, remember," Loki said. "I've created a flawless story that will explain everything, but you must let me do the talking. All you need to do is smile and nod. Understand?"

"I'm sure it'll be fine," Remus said unconvincingly, turning to walk towards the school.

Loki apparated into the school ahead of him to remind Remus who was the immortal hero to the wizarding people and who just an overrated dog-man. There were still students in the hallway, but they slipped by him without noticing. Most of them were closing lockers, swinging backpacks across their shoulders, talking in excited voices about reading and science and politics.

"Nice place," Remus said, coming to a pause next to him.

"Of course," Loki said. He wouldn't have chosen just any school for the child. Newbury Tech had wide, glassy classrooms, hallways that one could glide down and wide, sweeping staircases. It was no Hogwarts, but it had its own fluorescent, Muggle charm.

"This way," Loki said. He stepped up the stairs as Remus stopped to let a kid pass by, reading and walking.

The place of their appointment was a large, well-equipped classroom laboratory. Loki looked into neat glass cabinets full of magnets and boxes of ball bearings and wires. He flicked some of the extra switches on the wall, watching a second set of lights turn on and off as the windows fogged and cleared. He approved.

Remus was examining the microscopes on each desk, bemused.

"Does Harry know how to use this stuff?"

"It looks simple enough," Loki said, bending down to look. The inside showed only blackness, and when he gave it an impatient tap, it started to smoke.

The door swung open.

"Ah, you're both here." A short, professorial-looking woman walked in, and Loki quickly stepped forward and banished the smoking microscope behind him.

Remus pressed a hand to his forehead, as Loki weighed whether he should call in someone from the ministry or if murder would be required. It was a shame he couldn't cast obliviate, one of few the actually useful wizard spells.

"So!" The professor said, oblivious to his inner dialogue. A cheerful, middle-aged woman in a lab coat and specs. "Mr. Jameson?"

She didn't seem to notice the missing microscope, so Loki moved along, offering his hand.

"Exnilo, please," he said. "Luke."

"Good to meet you," said the teacher. "And-"

"Remus L-Jameson," Remus said awkwardly.

"Elaina Marvis," the teacher said. "I teach chemistry-but you probably got that off the note! I wanted to talk about how Harry's been progressing. Now I know he's just starting out, but-"

"Harry is a wonderful child," Loki said, taking a chair out by the desk. "Seat?"

"Right," Dr. Marvis said. She settled onto the chair as Remus drew his own up. "Of course, every child who walks into my classroom is special."

"Not like Harry, I'll bet," Remus said, and Loki felt compelled to add, "He has a lot of potential." And more heart and talent than the rest of your snivelling mortal children combined.

"He can be very insightful," Dr. Marvis acknowledged. "And he made friends quickly with Fitz and Simmons which is positively impressive considering they're attached at the hip. I think it will be good for both- er, all three of them."

"Yes, we hear about them," Remus said, "They seem very bright."

It was a shame they didn't have a smidgeon of magical talent, Loki thought.

"Naturally, naturally," Dr. Marvis said, opening her drawer and rooting around for a notepad. "Tell me more about his education before. I understand he was homeschooled?"

"We traveled a lot in his youth," Loki improvised freely. "Remus took care of most of the education himself."

"Ah, so your partner-" Dr. Marvis said, turning to Remus.

"Ex," Remus said, as Loki interjected, "It's complicated."

Remus coughed hastily.

"I feel compelled to ask," Dr. Marvis said, pausing her notes. "Is there a separation in the picture?"

"Oh, no, nothing like that," Loki said.

Remus shook his head.

"Harry is our adopted godson," he said.

"Ah," Dr. Marvis said, pen still frozen above the pad. "And his biological parents-"

"Killed in a terrorist incident," Remus said.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Dr. Marvis said, eyes widening slightly. "Was it recent-"

"No, he was quite young at the time," Loki interceded, a little annoyed at the unnecessarily tragic portrait. "He doesn't remember it."

"The- incident," Dr. Marvis said, looking vaguely disturbed, judgementally of her. It was Loki who'd saved the child after all, and he'd had to be present as bait to draw in Voldemort- something in Loki squirmed at the idea of Harry as the infant at the center of those plans, but he hadn't known at the time-

"We tell him about his parents often," Remus was saying. "They were very good people, and we tell him all the time how proud they would be of him."

"Very good of you," Dr. Marvis said with a sad smile. "Is there anything else I should know?"

"His… other godfather was also injured severely in the incident," Remus said, not quite levelly. "He's in a permanent ward. Harry is very fond of him, though, and we visit frequently."

Loki made a mental note to send one of his duplicates to look for potioners; it wouldn't make anything better, but it eased his feelings somewhat.

"So here we are," Remus said awkwardly, after that depressing summation. "There's nothing new though; I don't think we need to worry about the impacts on his scientific ability."

"Right," Dr. Marvis said, clearing her throat.

"He's a bright child," Loki said. "He shouldn't be limited by his past."

"No, of course," Dr. Marvis said, recovering her stride. "So about his scholastic history-"

Dr. Marvis jotted down notes on her yellow pad as Remus spoke about Harry's educational progress in nonmagical equivalencies and Loki blatantly extemporized.

"So, quite a mixed bag," Dr. Marvis said, setting down her pen.

"Everyone's educational interests differ," Loki said airily. "We don't believe in limiting our child."

"Admirable spirit," Dr. Marvis said, frowning. "But Newbury believes in capturing the fundamentals…"

"Harry has expressed a strong interest in succeeding here," Remus said.

"Well, that's-very mature of him," Dr. Marvis said uncertainly. "But he's had quite a number of absences. Can I ask why?"

Remus opened his mouth, but Loki cut him off.

"Guilty as charged," he said, flashing a smile. "I find it beneficial for Harry to be exposed to the work from time to time."

"The work being-"

"Ambassador," Loki said, with a white smile.

Remus raised an eyebrow, returning to bland-faced when Dr. Marvis turned back.

"I see," Dr. Marvis said. "Nevertheless, students benefit from continuity, and missing lessons could be extremely harmful to Harry at this juncture of his education."

"Understood," Remus said. "We'll do our absolute best to avoid it."

"Within reason," Loki added. It was a long election year.

Dr. Marvis shifted in her chair.

"Have you given any thought to Harry's future goals?" she asked. "If he is to get into a school like Eton or Shield Academy, he'll-"

"We're not concerned," Loki said. "He just needs exposure to M- to the fundamentals."

Dr. Marvis peered at them.

"Very well," she said. "I'm going to do the thing I planned to do and send you some supplemental materials to work through with him. That should get him up to speed."

She pulled out a hefty sheaf of papers and Remus frowned, doubtless wondering where they'd find time in the boy's already busy schedule. Loki would take the time to work through them with him; sure the boy didn't need to succeed, but it wouldn't hurt.

"If I may make one other suggestion," Dr. Marvis said, putting her notepad away. "Newbury Academy has a lot of highly motivated parents, here moreso than other places. There are a lot of expectations, from parents or elsewhere. We forget sometimes that kids need time to just be kids."

"We'll bear that in mind," Remus said and Loki murmured a platitude. It was a sweet sentiment, but rather naive. Harry needed to be given the tools to succeed in life, either leading the wizarding world under Loki or pursuing his own passions. Certainly it was a better childhood than being raised to compete, fruitlessly, with one's brother for the throne; though beyond that Loki couldn't say.

They walked down the hallway with Dr. Marvis and took the front exit rather than the parking lot. The moon was high overhead and the air comfortably chilled.

"Primary school," Loki said, floating ever so slightly over the gravel. "How quaint."

"Hopefully no one looks you up and discovers a distinct lack of ambassadors," Remus said dryly.

"I covered my bases better than that," Loki said, writing a little note on the yellow pad he'd copied and folding it into a shape.

"We'll have to explain it to Harry, at any rate," Remus said, and Loki shook his head, following the stubborn wolfman up the hill.

They apparated away with a crack, the paper swooping off, birdlike, into the night sky.

After a moment, another crack followed.

Winter seemed to come all at once, limning the trees at the cottage with ice and forcing all Harry's Muggle friends into padding so thick they were nigh unrecognizable at a distance.

One morning Harry and Remus apparated to school to find the whole world covered with white.

"It's snowing?" Harry asked, eagerly stopping to look.

"Cardiff's a bit north of us," Remus said, looking bemused. "I suppose the weather is different too."

Harry yelped and ran through the snow, cresting the hill towards the schoolyard, then rolling down in a big puff of snow.

"Watch out, Harry!"

Remus ran after him, scarf flying as he slipped and stumbled down the hill but didn't fall.

"The school may be closed-"

"It's not!" Harry shouted back. He could see kids gathering in the schoolyard, some of them making a giant snowman.

"Well, er, alright then," Remus said, coming to the bottom and catching his breath. He put his wand away. "Just have them call Loki if there are any changes."

"I will," Harry promised, sprinting across the road to school. Behind him, Remus winced, waved and put his wand back again. There weren't that many cars in this weather.

Harry walked out into the indented schoolyard, looking for a sign of Jemma's plaits or Leo's raggedy knit cap.

"Harry!" a voice called. He turned, spotting them in the corner of the yard. "Aren't you cold in that?"

"In what?"

Harry glanced down at his puffy jacket and boots. He didn't find the cold as intolerable as his classmates seemed to, but he thought he had done alright.

"Your hands!" Jemma filled in. "And ears!"

"Oh," Harry said. "I'm okay."

He bent down and picked up a heap of snow, shaping it carefully.

Jemma and Leo's eyes narrowed.

"Are you sure?" Harry asked.

"Five minutes," Leo said. "Now until the schoolbell. The most hits wins."

"That doesn't account for the size or-" Jemma started, but the other two were already running.

"Alright then," she said, pointedly. "If that's how you want to play…"

It was a spectacular showdown. Harry excelled at dodging and weaving, even going so far as to move through the crowd, and in consequence almost never got hit. Unfortunately, it was a hitting game, and his reluctance to stand still and aim left him in the dust. Leo dug himself a little trench of snow and fired on the pair with impunity, at least until Jemma mastered the art of throwing in an arc.

"Ow, ow-okay, I surrender!" Leo said, coming out with his hands above his head.

Harry looked longingly at his last snowball, already formed up in his hand, and decided it could be a snowman instead.

"Match goes to Jemma," Leo grumbled. "You sadist."

"I did tell you," Jemma said, and Harry rolled his suddenly massive snowman base happily.

"C'mon Harry," Leo said, patting him on the back. "We're going to be late if we wait any longer."

Class had gotten into a rhythm and proceeded more or less as normal, though every once in a while Dr. Marvis would ask him about a missing microscope, for some reason. He would never compete with Leo or Jemma, who had kept up their study group, but he brought back good reports, Loki and Remus were happy, especially when he brought back a chemistry paper with "Excellent work!" stamped on it in bright purple ink.

Christmas was rapidly approaching. Teachers hung paper snowflakes from the ceilings, essays on remorse and reflection in Charles Dickens drafted in the shape of snowmen were stapled to bulletin boards in the hallways. Other kids, too, were adding to the cheer. He saw a taxonomy Christmas tree go up in the hallway outside the biology classrooms, and a crowd of sixth-formers carried a giant marshmallow snowman through the cafeteria one evening.

Undoubtedly, the best decorators were Leo and Jemma, who caught him on his way to lunch.

"Don't you have something now?" Harry said as they rushed him out into the hallway, shushing him anxiously. Lunch was normally one of the only places he didn't see them.

"Look," Jemma said.

Leo was holding a little controller. Harry followed Jemma's gaze to the top of the stairs above the hallway, where a small mechanical spider was twisting around the banister, trailed by a string of lights.

"It's a remote-controlled wire-bearing arthropod with a semi-adhesive exoskeleton," Jemma said happily.

Harry watched as the spider slipped, almost falling off the waxed banister, catching itself as Leo grumbled and pressed hard on the buttons.

"Have you been working on that all this time?" Harry asked, impressed.

"Oh no, not all the time," Jemma said.

"Most of the time," Leo prevaricated.

"We spent six weeks at least on Chewy-"

"Chewy's just a prop for the drama club- this," Leo said, "This is true brilliance." The spider slipped again and he winced, fiddling with the controller. "Oops, up you go, Arachne-"

"So what are you doing for Christmas?" Jemma asked.

"I'm celebrating with my Mam and Da," Leo said happily. "Da's taking off from the power plant so we can do Christmas together this year."

"We're going to have my grandparents over this year," Jemma said. "We celebrate Christmas and Chanukah."

They turned to him expectantly.

"Er," Harry said, "My godfather is throwing something, I think."

That was a bit of an understatement. With the elections December 30th, Loki was suddenly everywhere, like an avenging angel of Christmas, if there was an angel who rose or fell by constituency. He was, he assured Harry, quite fine against the likes of Fudge, but Harry couldn't help but notice he was being pulled out more and more—on shopping trips to Diagon Alley, debates, and the like. Loki was keeping on his promise to interfere less with Harry's studies, which mostly meant that a slightly incorporeal Loki stayed behind later, helping him with his homework while the main body focused furiously on campaigning.

To this end, Loki was also hosting Christmas this year in what would no doubt be, Harry thought, a large party full of Ministry officials and stuffed robes. Remus wasn't invited, though with the full moon the night before, he took it as a mercy. Harry, by contrast, had to go.

"Can't you clone me like you do?" Harry asked, lying on his bed in Godric's Hollow, frowning over his homework.

"It's not a 'clone,'" Loki said, raising his eyebrows at the Mugglish word. "It's a simulacrum. You would need to be in both places at once, having mastered both illusion and dividing your attention. Even if I were to clone you, it would be me acting and not you, thus defeating the point."

"Why?" Harry asked, swinging his legs around to sit up straight. "Why do you need it to be me?"

"It's important for you to have exposure to this kind of scenario," Loki said. "You'll be in this position for much of your life, so you must understand how to play a noble crowd-make them dance on your strings."

"I don't want to control them," Harry protested.

"Then you'll be a pawn in someone else's game," Loki said. He waved a hand, summoning a Daily Prophet from his office across the hall.

Bagnold Incompetence Grows Worse by the Day, declared the headline.

The picture depicted a middle-aged woman walking through the streets looking henpecked, dodging the angry crowds.

"The previous Minister," Loki said. "Would you believe that just a month before this she was praised as 'a courageous bulwark against the forces of You-Know-Who'?"

"But you were better, right?" Harry pointed out. "So of course they voted for you."

"Oh, they don't know that," Loki said. "Voldemort was taken down by a prophecy and a blood ward. Yes, I may have been the only qualified person living, but they could've just as easily pinned it on this Fudge or Dumbledore had I not put in the effort to consolidate power."

"So if you don't keep doing all this stuff…"

"They will turn on you, Harry," Loki said, an odd note in his voice. "They always will. Now let's see you practice light."

Harry sighed, putting his homework aside to spend an hour staring at his empty hand.

Christmas break came soon enough, and with it Loki's fete.

"What do you think?" Loki asked.

Harry, who had been alternately watching Loki set up the entrance hall and working on his homework all day, was impressed. The entrance hall had been expanded, with big and small tables for eating and drinking at. Musical instruments played soaring, unearthly tunes, music somehow alien and nostalgic. It made Harry think of gold halls and a warm fire. Soft snowflakes fell down from the ceiling. Harry tried to catch one with his hands. It was cold.

"Is it real?" he asked.

"Is color real?" Loki said. "The first guests are coming down the block."

Harry ran back up, changing his comfortable robes for dress robes like Loki's, then walked back down much more slowly to go and greet the guests.

By Christmas miracle or godfatherly intervention, he ended up seated not next to Draco Malfoy, who turned his face up when Harry arrived, but Amelia Bones's cordial niece. Most of the people arriving he didn't recognize-he saw a French Lieutenant General and a stiff, yellow-eyed man with a line of feathers down his arm. Most of them greeted him stiffly, the exception being an old, bald man in a bulging maroon waistcoat.

"If it isn't the Boy-Who-Lived!" he exclaimed jovially, shaking Harry's hand. "Professor Horace Slughorn, Potions Master."

"Nice to meet you," Harry said, extricating his hand. He knew this type of person: always overwhelmingly friendly when they recognized him.

"I'm actually here in place of a student of mine, Damocles Belby. He's working closely with your godfather, or so I hear! I don't suppose you've met him?"

"No," Harry said. Slughorn looked disappointed.

"Well you will, just you see! He couldn't make it, of course; his work is far too important, but I'm sure your godfather will understand. Far too important!"

Then he shook Harry's hand a few times, telling him he couldn't wait for Harry to attend Hogwarts so he could follow in Loki's footsteps-"I'm the Potions Master there, you know!"-before wading back into the crowd to accost a sour-looking Draco Malfoy.

There were also one or two reporters with quills. Loki had given Harry extensive talks on how to speak to reporters, but only one of them approached him, to ask what he wanted for Christmas.

"A broomstick," Harry said.

She crowed. "Of course, of course. But aren't you a bit young to fly, Harry?"

"I wouldn't do it by myself," Harry said.

"The Prime Minister can stop a person from falling hundreds of meters away in the blink of an eye," Malfoy Senior cut in, helping himself to some occamy liver. Harry turned the other way-Malfoy had a creepy way of cutting things.

"But to what end?" a voice down the table was saying. Harry could see the fresh-faced general debating with a woman in pink.

"Until Russia, pardon, the USSR, no longer has its wands pointed in our direction," he said. "Did you hear about what happened in Czechia-"

"Of course, but it's just a border skirmish; nothing that the Muggles would hear about…"

Loki slipped into the seat next to Harry's, twirling a champagne flute.

"Excellent turnout," he said. "Longbottom's just popping in; he has a family event, but I expect someone will join us later."

Harry sighed, looking longingly at the Christmas tree with gifts beneath. He wasn't sure what Jemma and Leo, or even the Weasleys, were doing right now, but he suspected it was more fun than this.

"A few more hours," Loki said quietly, putting a soothing hand on his shoulder. "Have you met Lieutenant General Hamidou?" The cool-faced military leader shook Harry's hand and he was drawn back into the dizzying array.

It seemed like an interminable time, but the enchanted instruments played on. People were still moving and talking across the room, the food and drinks magically replenishing.

As the nearby Slughorn launched into a story involving Ambrosius Flume and Gwenog Jones, Harry slipped away from the table and into the white parlor, mercifully quiet and empty. He curled up on the couch and dozed a bit, falling into fitful dreams where all the people from the Ministry crowded over to shake his hand.

See? Loki said, only it was the golden statue of Loki, twenty feet tall. You're chosen. You're special.

The statue pushed him into the crowd, and he fell and kept falling as Jemma and Leo stood above him, looking grim.

A flicker of light woke him and he sat straight up, his head pounding and foggy. He was still on the couch in the white room, and it was still dark outside. He could still hear the sounds of the chatter and music, a bit quieter, in the room nearby.

He checked the clock. A quarter to twelve-almost Christmas Day. He watched it tick down sleepily, not quite sure whether to pull himself to bed and just fall back asleep on the sofa.

Eleven fifty-eight, eleven fifty-nine…Midnight.

The Floo flared green. An old man stepped out wearing red robes with a white trim.

Harry started.

"Albus Dumbledore at your service," the man said, stepping away from the flames. His long white beard was tucked into his belt.

"Are you s-"

"I'm terribly sorry for interrupting what looked like a good nap," the man said, eyes twinkling. "I'm afraid Fawkes just had a burning day, and thought that this fireplace might be unused."

Harry blinked.

The man turned slightly to put out the flames, revealing robes that were red on one side and an abrupt bright green on the other, with no transition.

That broke Harry out of his daze.

"Nice to meet you," he said belatedly, offering his hand. He had heard of Professor Dumbledore-he was the headmaster of Hogwarts and worked with Loki sometimes.

"Do you want me to show you into the entrance hall?" Harry asked. "I think the party's still going on."

"I would be delighted," Dumbledore said. "But first, if I may sit and chat with you for a moment?"

"...Sure," Harry said. Dumbledore didn't seem like the Slughorn type…

"Excellent," Dumbledore said, taking the seat across Harry's sofa. "Lemon drop?"

"No, tha-that's a Muggle sweet," Harry said, surprised. He was growing familiar with the sweets and candies his classmates brought in on All Hallows' Eve and other occasions, but he'd never seen a wizard with one.

"Yes, there's a Muggle-born shop I'm rather fond of that imports them," Dumbledore said, taking one himself. The bright, candy-printed box seemed almost obscene in such a wizarding setting, and for a moment Harry imagined Leo and Jemma coming face to face with the magical headmaster.

"How is school going?" Dumbledore asked conversationally. "You would be in year five now, if I recall correctly?"

"It's okay. Er…educational," Harry said, remembering belatedly that he was talking to the headmaster of his future school.

"No doubt," Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling as if he knew what Harry was thinking. "And things at home?"

"Fine..." Harry said, not entirely sure what he was getting at.

"Loki is treating you well?" Dumbledore asked, unsticking another lemon drop.

"Yeah, of course," Harry said.

"Excellent," Dumbledore said cheerily, his eyes twinkling again. "Now, I confess I came here with ulterior motives. I was given something to pass on to you, and was hoping to do so tonight."

"Who gave it to you?" Harry asked, surprised.

"It was given to me by your father," Dumbledore said. As that sank in, he continued,"Although it is yours by right, I beg you'll humor an old man when I ask that some conditions be applied."

He looked surprisingly serious for someone dressed like a clown.

"Er, what are they?" asked Harry, who knew better than to say yes to something like that out of hand.

"First, I ask that while you should feel at leisure to lend or share it with a trusted friend, you do not give it away," Dumbledore said. "It is yours alone."

Harry nodded. That seemed reasonable enough.

"The second is that you do not give it to Loki, even as a loan. This is not as onerous as it seems, since, as you will see, he has no need of it."

"You want me to hide it?" Harry said uncomfortably.

"Not at all," Dumbledore said. "I've told him the same. Right, Loki?"

He glanced over Harry's shoulder. Harry whirled as Loki's form flickered into sight.

"I heard you," Loki said, rolling his eyes. "And I would thank you not to train my godson to take sweets and trinkets from strangers, given the number of attempts on our lives this year."

Dumbledore inclined his head.

"Noted."

"So," Loki said, relighting the fire in the fireplace with a flick of his hand. "Shall we?"

Dumbledore reached into his pocket and withdrew a flat, red-wrapped box.

"Merry Christmas, Harry."

Harry looked back at Loki, who nodded.

The wrappings were white, and Harry again looked back at Dumbledore suspiciously. The headmaster, who had been slipping another lemon drop into his mouth, looked back innocently. It was a wonder he had any teeth left, at that age.

Harry tugged open the bow and opened the box, touching something soft. His mind jumped to the Weasley sweaters, but the material was different—silky and almost fluid.

"Thank you, Headmaster," he said politely, wondering at all this fuss over a pair of his father's old robes. It was nice, though, to have

something from him.

"Try it on," Dumbledore said with amusement.

Harry picked up the fabric—it was more of a cloak, he saw now—and draped it over his shoulder.

It disappeared.

"Whoa," he whispered.

"Use it well," Dumbledore said, suddenly somber. Then he straightened, his eyes twinkling again. "Well, I'm off to see about those festivities. Merry Christmas, Harry, Loki."

Harry nodded, then paused, looking over to Loki. How long had he been gone from the party? He touched Loki's arm and the apparition flickered, sparking green.

"Figures," Harry said, rolling his eyes as Loki shrugged innocently.

"Can you make a mirror?" he asked Loki. There were none on the floor that he could recall. His godfather conjured one obligingly.

"I'm invisible," Harry said, awed. It was a little creepy to see just half his face, floating in the air. He tugged the hood down, surprised to find he could see through it just fine.

"I hope you aren't considering this a shortcut," Loki said, looking amused. "I still expect you to figure that out for yourself one day."

Harry didn't answer, creeping away.

"You know I can see you over there," Loki said, eyes narrowing. "Harry?"

"Harry?"

Harry jumped into the apparition and it flickered out.

The rest of Christmas break passed happily for Harry. Remus showed up the morning after the party, looking better now that the moon was truly on the wane. Loki stayed in; the real Loki this time, and they spent a lazy morning unwrapping Harry's presents. There were rather a lot- it turned out that inviting a bunch of wizarding society to a Christmas party meant getting lots of gifts. Most of them were books or clothes- Remus looked impressed at the titles, but Harry wasn't sure how Buff Bierskin's Guide to Anglo-Normandy Relations, 1066-Present, had made it onto someone's Christmas list. Probably a regift, he figured. Along with the books and clothes he received a sneakoscope (which went off as soon as it was opened until Loki spelled it into temporary oblivion), a potted plant ("Aconite," Loki said dismissively, as Remus backed away, coughing), and enough chocolate frogs, Bertie Bott's, and sugar quills to give an army diabetes.

"We'll give it to the Weasleys," Remus said decisively, after Harry had selected a few favorites. Harry wondered if he could get some to Jemma and Leo. Sugar quills were barely magical, and he thought they might enjoy them.

Remus's present was a collection of books, but rather than thick wizarding textbooks or the smaller moving-picture books Harry was used to, these were small and thin, with waxy covers and titles like "The BFG" and "Howl's Moving Castle". There was also a small stack of black-boxes with wheels inside, which Harry didn't recognize.

"Muggle books!" Harry said, surprised.

"I thought it might give you more to talk about with your friends at school," Remus said, smiling. "The other ones are movies, though I'm not sure how they're meant to work, exactly. Something about rolling them up?"

Loki also gave him books on that theme, though his were all mythologies.

"Highly inaccurate, of course," he said. "But amusing nonetheless."

The best prize of all, though, was left for last.

"There is, one other thing, Harry," Loki said. He was sitting grandly on the settee, a scroll loosely curled between his fingers. He held it out and Harry read the words aloud, squinting to make out the flowery script.

The Wolfsbane Potion, the script said, is designed to relieve the symptoms of lycanthropy on two axes. First, by mitigating the sharp pains or agonies accompanying the initial and terminal transformations, and second, by putting the mind of the wolf into a calm, trancelike state. It is the hope of this potionmaker that Wolfsbane will go a long way in easing the condition of those suffering from lycanthropy.

-DB, L

Harry's eyes widened. Remus went white.

"Is. Is this true?" he croaked.

"It's early days yet," Loki said lightly. "But results have been promising. We're trying to simplify the potion at this stage, or make it less costly. I understand that can be a consideration for many…"

He choked off abruptly as Remus folded him into a hug. Harry climbed down the couch and joined in, and Remus wrapped him in too.

After a second or two Loki had neatly extracted himself back to the settee, and Harry squirmed out too.

"Of course, Harry will still need to come over on full moons," he said. Remus was still staring at the scroll, as if expecting it to disappear any moment.

"Of course," Harry said.

"And there's further testing needed, but that can be handled by Belby and the Ministry." The uncertainty in his face had vanished and he was back to looking smug. "The potion should be ready in three moons," Loki said. "Merry Christmas, Harry."

Harry must've looked like he was about to hug again because Loki was on the other side of the room in a flash, muttering something about checking the wards.

"Stay and watch Star Wars with us?" Harry offered, holding the black boxes up temptingly.

"...fine," Loki said, returning to the room. It took almost an hour to figure out how to play the movies but eventually Loki managed to figure out how to reverse the encoding so Harry could tune into the adventures of Luke and Princess Leia against the evil Darth Vader, curled up on the couch between them both.

By the time Harry returned to school, he was more than ready to be back. Loki had won the election by a mile, and Harry, while pleased for him, did not enjoy the ensuing press conferences and victory parties where people fawned over him and tried to shake his hand. He felt tired, strung-out, and more than ready to be back in the Muggle world with his professors and friends. Leo was uncharacteristically quiet too, leaving Jemma to carry most of the conversation about her holidays and how she'd gotten a new telescope to see the stars.

"But how were yours?" she said breathlessly, looking between them.

"Fine," Leo said irritably, and Jemma frowned, looking surprised, but just then Professor Jinkins called for quiet and they snapped to.

Harry gave them a few of his sweets before lunch, which seemed to cheer both of them up a great deal.

"Where did you get this?" Leo said, the first words he had spoken all day. "They feel like real feathers!"

"This tastes like squid!" Jemma said, around a mouthful of every-flavored bean. "It feels like squid-"

She picked up another one, frowning.

"Jemma, we have got to look at this," Leo said, putting the slightly-licked sugar quill back in his pocket. "And we're going to be late. See you after lunch, Harry?"

"Thanks, Harry!" Jemma said, scooping up some more Bertie Botts.

"Yes, thanks!"

Harry turned towards the cafeteria with vague misgivings. He hoped this wasn't enough for the obliviators to notice. At least he'd cheered Leo up.

Their recess study group was still ongoing, but Harry was doing decently enough in his classes to take a break, between the pair, Loki, and his own hard work. Sometimes, they hung out on the swings, now that it was getting warm again, and sometimes they switched the formula.

"Alright," Harry said. Jemma was bouncing with excitement; Leo looked anxious. "My turn."

He turned to the side, demonstrating the quick punch they'd been learning- first fast, then slower.

"Now you two try it."

It was nice, Harry reflected, to be good at something too. After enough of a workout to make Leo start complaining about the dangers of osteoarthritis and Harry's 'unnatural' speed and strength, they retreated back into the school for Language Arts.

"See," Leo said, pointing to the corner of the school where Loki was waiting, looking bored. "That's not natural."

"He does that all the time, Leo; it's just the back door."

"Yeah but when I use it, it's not open, is that it?"

"It probably opens when the school does, right Harry? Harry?"

Harry waved as he slipped away.

A few hours later, Harry stood, in a new set of dress robes in the latest style, as a photographer rotated around him, taking blinding shots with that obnoxious device as an interviewer asked him about his favorite hobbies and what he wanted to be when he grew up. The interview was for some French magazine that had broken into the British market- Wizkid, Loki recalled. Harry looked bored, but not unhappy- he'd agreed to the request instantly when he'd found out the pay. They really had to revise his allowance. Still, it couldn't hurt for Harry to gain some good publicity in his own right. This was about the age Loki and Thor went out on parade, which could be, perhaps, roughly similar.

He sat, mindful to watch for any issues with the interviewers, then sent a simulacrum to his office. He had a meeting to attend. As he opened the office door, a shape launched towards him from the hallway. "Free-"

Loki rolled his eyes, but before he could be bothered to react, a bolt of green hit the assassin over his shoulder.

Lucius Malfoy lowered his staff.

"Inconvenient," Loki said, reflexively searching the wizard for signs of identification. Nothing worth noting, but he thought this one might have been with the Sokovian group.

"I'll increase security," Malfoy promised darkly. "Whoever was on guard…"

"See it done," Loki said, raising a hand, uninterested. "Next time, leave one alive for questioning."

"Done," Malfoy promised. Loki banished the body and opened the door. There was a certain irony to winning a landslide victory over his electorate, just to be barraged by assassination attempts from the union, but so it went. His office was safe, at least. Loki had seen to that.

Lucius swept in, closing the door behind him with his stick.

"Tea?" Loki offered.

"Gladly."

Lucius took the cup, seating himself across from Loki.

"Geneva is up to its old tricks," Lucius said. "They have little actual authority, but a cornered animal…"

Loki nodded, acknowledging the threat. In the follow-up to the battle of eight, the Swiss coalition had crumbled, leaving Longbottom's army free to carve up much of the territory through counterattacks. The union had doubled in size overnight. Still, the task of pacifying the territory still needed doing. A coalition government from some of the former governments (including quite a few of Loki's old friends in the ICW) had fled to Geneva and was attempting to rule from the shadows.

"Stay consistent," Loki said. "Stay patient."

He'd seen this pattern of behavior before, on Asgard. His impression of the conquest was that the masses cared less whose flag they waved than whether they had food, shelter, and freedom. Violent revolts were quickly suppressed. But most weren't interested in violence.

"It's too slow," Lucius argued. "We breed traitors who abuse our patience and beg Geneva to come back and save them."

"And soon enough, they'll realize their limitations," Loki said with a shrug. "You cannot eat ideals."

Lucius's face twisted, but he didn't argue. Having rebellion in the provinces hurt his pride, Loki thought. So be it. Loki didn't like it, but he could afford to be gracious.

"Continue investigating the dangerous groups," he said. "Uproot them if you can. That is all."

Lucius nodded.

"The security issue is pressing," he admitted, summoning a stack of files. "There are a few candidates from the auror office…"

"Just choose the best," Loki said, flickering back to Harry.

"There is one," Lucius said. "Old enough to retire, and paranoid enough to get old. A real monster during the war."

His tone was grudgingly respectful, though not without distaste.

"What's the issue then?" Loki asked. He knew how petty Lucius could be about his old enemies, even seven years out. The lack of vitriol spoke volumes.

"He won't take a thing from me," Lucius admitted, looking sour.

"Good instincts, then," Loki said, flashing a grin. "I'll take care of it."

If Lucius couldn't get to him, he was probably Dumbledore's man, which just meant a different set of levers to be applied. He'd owl him today. In the meantime…

He dismissed Malfoy and his double, pulling all his focus to his original self. The journalist was wrapping up the interview; Harry looked tired. Perhaps the ministry was too unsafe for Harry right now. A rogue group or three after him wasn't much cause for concern, but for Harry…

Yes, Loki thought. He'd make sure Harry was watched more closely in the wizarding world from now on. An incident like this afternoon's could do a lot of damage to Harry's mortal form.

Harry came back to school to find the students and staff transformed. Exam fever had infected everyone overnight, from the fast-talking Dr. Marvis to the oblivious Dr. Jinkins, who piled on the reviews and admonished them to study harder. Even Coach Izo was affected- she informed them one lesson that the all but one session a week would be canceled for study sessions, much to the dismay of Harry and the joy of everybody else.

In study sessions Leo and Jemma put their heads together and discussed at long length their potential performance on the SPTs, while Harry half-heartedly reviewed his notes and Dr. Marvis answered questions and supervised.

"We must not lose focus," she warned, as the class broke out, streaming towards the cafeteria with books and notes in hand.

Harry took a step into the hallway, the sound of his footsteps trailing uncertainly behind him. It was strangely quiet for a Monday afternoon.

"Jemma?" he called out. "Leo?"

They normally disappeared when lunch began but he had a strange feeling…

Hands pulled him into a corner.

"Shhh," Leo said. He and Jemma were both there, resisting Harry's attempts to slap them off. "We want to show you something."

"Why didn't you just say something like a normal person, then?" Harry suggested. Every time he slapped a hand back they came back around, like some weird slow-motion hand game.

"It's a secret thing," Jemma said, giving up on grabbing his arm. She beckoned him down the hallway and Harry looked around apprehensively.

"Come on, lunch period's a-wastin," Leo said, waving as he trotted down the hall.

Harry followed after, curious despite himself.

Jemma and Leo led him down a familiar hallway, turning off into an unfamiliar one, up a set of stairs and then down another set of stairs.

"Are we actually going anywhere?" Harry asked, "Or can I eat my lunch?" They both shushed him.

Finally, they stopped, in front of what looked like an ordinary supply closet.

"Ta da!" Leo said, opening the door. "Pretty impressive, isn't it?"

Harry followed him in, blinking in the musty gloom.

"Here, get the lights," Jemma said, and Harry blinked for a moment before the lights flickered on. What he'd thought was a supply closet was actually a small classroom, with four desks pushed together in the center and the rest stacked precariously against the wall. The center desk seemed to be a workstation of some sort. A wall of foggy windows lined the opposite wall, until Jemma flicked another switch and light poured in, the lush foliage of the greenhouse adjacent.

"Welcome to the lab," Jemma said proudly.

"Did you guys make all this?" Harry asked. There was a small robot-thing on the table.

"Uh uh uh, no touching," Leo said, smacking his hand. "You stand here."

"That's our drone," Jemma explained.

"Tinkerbell," Leo said, patting it fondly.

"It's an autopropelled multi-rotor robot drone with a several-pound carrying capacity," Jemma said to Harry. "It's much better than Tinkerbell."

"No see, cause of the bells-" Leo said, running his fingers over the bottom with a jangling sound.

"It's just for testing-"

"I know it's just for testing, Jemma, I was the one who asked Ms. Viamont-"

Harry, who'd learned to recognize the signs of a long Fitz-Simmons debate, rustled through his backpack for his lunch.

The pair immediately swiveled towards him.

"Have a seat, Harry," Jemma suggested in a tone that made him instinctively nervous.

"Yes," Leo ran around the workstation, giving him and the table a wide berth, and pulled a chair out from the pile. "Sit."

"I'm okay-" Harry started.

The chair legs bumped abruptly into the back of his knees and he fell into a sitting position, Jemma's hand on his shoulder.

"You might be wondering why we asked you here today," Leo said.

"Not really-"

"Other than to show you the lab-"

"Other than to show you the ultra-cool lab," Leo amended. "Torch?"

Jemma passed him a torch from somewhere and Leo shone it against his face, making the shadows darker, then into Harry's.

"Hey!" Harry said, eyes watering.

"The jig is up," Jemma said solemnly, as Harry swatted for the torch, Leo dodging out of his grasp. "So you might as well tell us."

Harry froze. Thoughts flew through his head, latent sense of danger pricking. What if they found out? What if the Obliviators did?

"That's right," Leo said triumphantly, waving the torch. "Tell us about your alien ways."

Harry's mental model of hiding his friends from a crack team of ministry obliviators halted and crashed to the ground.

"Please?" Leo added hopefully.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Harry said.

The two looked at each other, exchanging meaningful glances, and then Jemma spoke.

"Evidence A. You transferred to the school in year five, and nobody knew you."

"Because I moved," Harry pointed out.

"Yes. But from where?" Jemma said ominously.

("London," Harry suggested, but they were already moving on.)

"Evidence B," Leo said. "The Star Wars incident."

"I saw it on break and anyways not everyone knows Star Wars-"

"You didn't know what a movie was!" Leo wailed.

"Evidence C," Jemma continued primly, "The Sugar Quills."

"They're from the continent," Harry said, his face growing hot.

"Oh, I think they're from much, much further than that…" Jemma said, face ominous in the torchlight.

"Evidence D." Leo again, "Everytime you touch something electronic, it dies."

"Come off it," Harry said, mentally reaching back. "That's not-"

That couldn't be true, could it?

Leo tossed him the torch. It blinked out.

"QED," he said.

"I'm just bad with technology," Harry said, trying the switch. The bulb popped, making him jump.

"Please tell us," Jemma said breathlessly. "We have to know."

Leo clasped his hands.

Harry looked at them, nervous and exasperated. Trust those two to figure something out, even if it was completely offbase.

"I'm not an alien," he said, and their faces lit up. Jemma was taking notes.

"Stop that," he said. "Please."

He didn't want to know what would happen if the ministry realized, or worse, if someone else did. He hesitated, wrapping his hands around his chest.

"Can you just… leave it?" he asked, looking at them.

Jemma looked anxious. Leo's face was grim. He drew his knees up, feeling watched, and somehow small. The two of them were his first friends he'd made all by himself; friends who didn't know he was different, or special, or anything other than the boy from school who was good at martial arts. And if that had to end, whether through revelation or obliviators, couldn't things stay the same a little longer?

"I'm just a normal kid," he said. "Just… Harry."

Jemma and Leo exchanged glances. Then they crowded back around him.

"That's okay, Harry," Leo said, patting his knee.

"We're sorry for bothering you," Jemma said, squeezing his hand.

"Anyways, it's almost time for physics," Leo pointed out, and Harry scrambled up quickly.

"How long do we have?" Jemma asked, quickly redoing all the switches.

"Three minutes- just enough time!"

Jemma grabbed his hand, then Harry's.

"Come on!"

They ran back through the hallways, dodging the older students, throwing themselves, panting, into their front row seats. He smiled as Jemma and Leo immediately set upon Dr. Jinkins, asking him curious questions and designing hypothetically harmless experiments. Even though his secrets and his place here might be in danger, he somehow felt better than before.