Four Golden Lines

Chapter TWO
Words: 5 665

Harry arrived in Sokovia and was immediately taken aback by the loud noise. There were explosions, screams, and a humming of machinery hitting the base notes. He'd arrived in a part of the city that wasn't floating and his next order of business was to get up there to lend his aid. He looked up, setting his jaw at the sight. Torrents of blue flame were bursting from places in the rising rock, propelling it up, large and small stones crumbling from the base, hurtling down to the earth.

Harry had wanted to bring the entire Auror Department, every last witch and wizard under his command, but slow-moving legislations and conservative old men and women holding the deciding power had made it impossible. The belief in the necessity of the Statute of Secrecy remained strong. Neither the attack on New York nor the one on London had made the international wizard community willing to change. It would take something even direr to make that happen. At a guess, something directed directly at magic. Once they'd lost, they'd be willing to fight, willing to risk the comfort of hiding, but by then it might be too late. People couldn't seem to learn.

Harry had considered asking his Aurors and his friends to join him in breaking the law but had decided against it. He couldn't ask that of them. Not that he'd needed to ask. Some of them had volunteered right off the bat, saying that if foreigners had wanted to help during the Convergence, they would have welcomed it and since they had the power to help now, they wanted to show that they stood by the idea of do unto others as you would have them do unto you. However, one offhand comment had made Hermione spawn a genius, albeit also crazy idea. They'd decided to try it, to see if Harry could tip the scales on his own. Only if it failed, if Harry thought they were about to lose, would they break the Statute of Secrecy and show everyone the true power of their people. One way or another, the world would not end today.

The plan was for Harry to help covertly by pretending to be Thor. With the absolute chaos going on in Sokovia, no one would be the wiser if there were two thunder gods on the scene. At least it would be less conspicuous than a large group of enhanced people breaking all laws of physics. First, though, Harry had to find Thor.

Luck was with him. Flying out from under the ascending rock was exactly who he needed.

"Thor!" Harry yelled.

The Asgardian heard him and changed his trajectory, coming in for a landing next to Harry.

"Wizard! Have you come to join the battle? I confess I do not know much of your abilities, but you captured Loki, so I have no doubt that you can help, and any help would be welcome."

"Yeah, about that. Remember the secrecy I required last we met? The whole it's-better-the-less-you-know thing?"

Thor nodded.

"First, don't call me wizard in front of anyone, and second, I can't help openly. We have laws against that. If we didn't, I'd have brought more people. I might still do that if this gets worse, but that will make this an even bigger mess, and we want to avoid that if at all possible. I, or well, my friend had an idea of how to work around all the secrecy. If you agree, I will transform into you. There will be two of you, us, but the battle seems confusing enough that it should work."

"This is an odd request, but I'll agree, if—" He held out his hammer.

Harry took it, hand enclosing the buttery leather of the handle. It fit well in his hand, and the burden was no heavier than it had been a year before. A spark of electricity travelled through his arm, tingling pleasantly.

"That makes three of us," Thor said, accepting Mjolnir back. "Good."

"Three?"

"An artificial being, metal and flesh combined, has proven worthy. He's on our side in this fight. Now, as you have not yet changed, I assume you need something from me for your spell?"

"Yes. Any part of you would do. Mostly we use hair."

"Uhm." Thor pressed his lips together, hand rising to protectively lay over some of the blond tresses flowing down his shoulder.

Harry let out a disbelieving chuckle. "Seriously? Come on. I only need a single hair."

"Very well." Still not pleased, Thor provided a strand of blond hair, which Harry placed in a bottle of Polyjuice Potion.

Seeing the colour change through the clear glass would have been fascinating at any other time, but Harry only wanted the transformation from the colour of mud to bright electric blue to go faster. A lingering moment later it was done, seeming to have gone successfully.

"Cheers!" Harry lifted the bottle, taking a gulp, hoping that the trend of him being able to use potions that would kill most wizards would continue, and again, luck was with him. Things went as they should. The potion was disgusting, and the transformation was distressing, but at the end of it, Harry had gained several inches in height, his glasses had become useless pieces of glass, and his hair had lengthened as it drained of its inky blackness.

Harry laughed in Thor's voice. He felt amazing. He knew he could run around all day without breaking a sweat. Knew he could fight tirelessly for hours upon hours. He felt powerful, invincible to the degree of intoxication.

"Asgardian bodies are bloody brilliant."

"Well, this is not at all disconcerting. Doesn't remind me of the last time Loki took my form at all, how he used it to cause me endless embarrassment." Thor cleared his throat. "What about armour?"

Harry looked at his clothes. Dark red robes covered tight fitting dragonhide armour that had flexed to fit his new physique. He banished the billowing cloth, as well as his glasses, taking out his illusioned wand and a disillusioned broom, lighting his grip on them when he felt the wood groan in his hands. Thor was ridiculously strong, and so, for the time being, Harry was too. "Will this do?"

Thor ogled him for a second, eyes tracked on Harry's wand which looked like Mjolnir, but he quickly composed himself. "It will do very well. Do you require assistance to get up there?"

"No." Harry straddled his invisible broom, kicked off hard from the ground and was off, cleaving the air and leaving a small crater behind. Thor spun his hammer and joined him. His disturbed expression turned into something closer to delight. He was enjoying the absurdity of having a clone, and Harry shared his joy, allowing himself a moment to revel in the feeling of being on a high. It was akin to the one time he'd taken Felix Felicis. The moment passed as they gained altitude. Harry made himself remember that he didn't have luck potion on his side. He had to keep a clear head. They were heading into danger, and though he felt invincible, he wasn't. Being serious was made easier for them both as two cars with people inside tumbled past them. It was time to get to work.

Harry went for the convertible, grabbing the sole woman inside, dragging her out of the vehicle, and bringing her down to the relative safety of the ground. He took a second to assure that she would be able to escape on her own, and flew up again. Meanwhile, Thor had grabbed the entirety of the other car and had put it on the floating island.

Up there, another Avenger waited. The original hero. Captain America, Steve Rogers. The shield he carried with its red, white, and blue star motif was unmistakable.

Rogers looked at them, eyes growing wide. "Thor?" He switched his gaze between them, between the two Mjolnirs.

"There's an explanation," Thor said.

"Make it quick."

"This is Harry Potter, my brother's soulmate. I've mentioned him."

"Now this would give Loki a complex." Roger's gaze came alight with amusement.

Harry rolled his eyes. "I don't usually look like this, but I'm not strictly allowed to be here, so a bit of deception is necessary."

"The reason for that?"

"Sorry, can't say."

"And I can't say that reassures me. Thor?"

"You have to trust him. He would not be able to wield my hammer if he weren't deserving of trust, and if that's not enough, trust me."

"As you say." Rogers turned to Harry. "Your abilities?"

"Well." A few robots were flying up behind Rogers, and Harry cast a lightning spell at them with his disguised wand, the energy coming much too easily. White hot energy zapped the metal men out of the sky and into little tiny pieces. Harry grinned, letting out a small whoop.

Thor reached out and touched his shoulder. "Easy, my friend."

"Sorry. But this is awesome. You're awesome. Do you know that?"

"What's going on?" Rogers asked.

"Contrary to what I first thought, Harry must have done more than change his outward appearance." Thor cast a look at Harry that demanded he explain.

"Yeah. This wonderful body's all you for the next hour or so. My DNA is Thor's, everything from this ridiculously pretty hair to the bones." Harry laughed. He felt great.

"Can you handle it?" Rogers asked.

Harry closed his eyes, trying to find reason, concentration, to not be drunk on the strength that was flowing through his current body. He could master himself. He had to. Hearing approaching enemies, he snapped his eyes open and zapped another four robots that were sneaking up on them. The power that rushed through him, was still phenomenal, but he was better prepared for it and didn't let it get to his head. Well, not as much. "I can handle it."

"Right." Rogers nodded with furrowed brow. "I suppose further explanations can wait. We can't say no to allies of any sort. Tony needs someone to distract Ultron, and all of us need to keep the civilians safe. Get to it!"

- Four Golden Lines -

Once the battle had come to an end, Thor searched for Harry. They had won, left to live and fight another day. And that day was coming. The vision of the Infinity Stones that the witch, and later the well of eternity, had granted him, the realisation that he'd encountered three stones in as many years weighed heavily on his mind. Loki must know more than he'd said. Harry might be the one capable of making him speak.

Thor found Harry at the edge of the crater that had been left behind when part of Sokovia was sent to the sky. Earth and barren rock gaped in the big wound. The bedrock was melted in places from the heat of the engines that had propelled Ultron's meteor and water pooled at the bottom, reflecting the sky. Harry looked down into it, lips pressed tightly together.

It was odd seeing yourself from the outside. It never ceased to be strange no matter how many times it happened. Seeing himself flying on the other side of the city, calling down lightning on the robots had been surreal, and so was seeing Harry now, face set in a morose expression which Thor knew was fuelled by feelings of guilt and grief, fuelled with regret at not being able to do more.

"Thank you for your help," Thor said, clasping Harry's shoulder, determined to alleviate some of his distress. "You performed admirably. If it weren't for you, this would have been much worse."

"But it could have been better," said Harry. "You already know I could have brought more people like me."

"Yes."

"We could do so much to help, but most of us don't want to. My people hide, only caring about themselves. Do you know that when I was younger and asked why we're hiding, I got the answer that regular people would demand we solve all their problems? So now we're stuck in our ways and won't help at all."

"You cannot decide over the wants of others, only lead by example. And you did your part. There is nothing for you to regret."

Harry chuckled humorlessly. "Perhaps. But you did not come to hear me complain, or so I assume."

"No. I have a request. I need your help to stop something like this, but larger, from happening. Things are moving out in the universe. Stirrings not heard of an age. I don't know what it is or what it means, but I sense there's danger coming, and Loki is involved with it. He will not speak to me or our father about it. I'm hoping he might speak to you. With his knowledge, we may have a better chance of stopping it. Come with me to Asgard. Speak with him. See what you can learn."

"He won't talk with me. I sent him to prison. I'm the enemy, same as you. It won't lead to anything."

"Maybe not. But I need you to try. And I need you to succeed, so you shall have to be more clever than my brother."

- Four Golden Lines -

At the sound of approaching guards, at the obnoxiously loud clanking of their armoured feet, Loki settled on the divan, ankles crossed, and picked a book at random, pretending to be absorbed in it. He didn't look up when his new arrived company came to a stop outside his cell. He scanned the page, giving the illusion of eyes following the progression of graphemes. He saw nothing, listening, foregoing the information of his other senses to concentrate on what his ears were telling him. The clanking stopped. A moment of silence passed.

"Hello."

Loki's neck cracked. He looked up so fast.

He had heard right. He had recognised the voice, had judged it correctly though he'd only heard it once before. It was his soulmate.

Rising slowly, Loki pushed out a broad grin to stretch his lips. "Isn't this a delightful surprise? What earns me the honour of a visit from the illustrious Harry Potter?"

"I'm here to talk. Can I come inside?"

"That is not for me to decide. If you've failed to notice, this is not a suite for entertaining guests but a prison cell."

"I'm asking because it's the polite thing to do. I will not come in there unless you invite me." Potter stood there waiting for Loki's reply, face earnest, stance relaxed.

Loki rolled his eyes. "I will not escape your company either way, will I? You'll simply pester me from where you are."

Potter shrugged.

"Very well. Please, do come inside. Join me."

The guards strode into action, swords drawn. "Back to the wall, hands at your side.

Loki complied. He backed until he was as far from the barrier as he could come, his back to the white wall. There were too many people there to attempt a direct escape. He counted five guards and Potter. He would wait and find another way. Besides, he was curious.

The barrier went down. The low hum of its activation ceasing. Potter stepped through and then it was back up again, a golden web separating them from the rest of the world.

Loki moved forward slowly, only taking a few steps.

Potter turned to the guards. "Could you leave us? I would like to speak to him alone."

They shared looks among themselves. "We will not be far." They went back whence they came, returning to the prison entrance.

"Can I sit?" Potter nodded to one of the chairs.

Uncaring, Loki waved his hand. Potter settled, getting comfortable.

"Now, will you tell me why you've come? Surely a mere conversation would not be enough to bring you to Asgard."

"What's your favourite colour?"

"Excuse me?" Loki tilted his chin down, raising his eyebrows, perplexed by the innate question.

"What's your favourite colour?"

"I heard you the first time."

"So what is it? I like blue. Your turn."

Allowing a measured pause to go by, Loki answered, "Green." He squinted his eyes, trying to see through Potter to understand what had brought him to Asgard. Potter could not have come on his own. He would need to be invited. Thor then.

"Green's nice," Potter said. "Whenever someone else picks what I'm to wear, they pick green. Probably because of my eyes, but I didn't always like green. I used to associate it with bad things. Back when I went to school, all the students were divided into four groups, houses. Green was the colour of the house I got on with the least, and that's putting it mildly, but I like it now."

"I see." But he didn't see. Not yet. It was unclear what Thor would gain by sending Potter here. Thor wanted to be a hero, to save people. Thor must suspect him of something and would use Potter to gather information, using their inherent connection. If it wasn't so annoying Loki would have been impressed by Thor's underhand tactics. Perhaps the lout was changing for the better, gaining some cunning to go with the brawn.

"Were you reading anything interesting when I interrupted?" Potter asked.

When Loki didn't answer, only looking at him searchingly, Potter went on prattling.

"I'm not much of a reader myself. One of my friends has tried to change that for years. She loves books, but I've always liked practical things better. I don't like being still and I've always found it easier to learn by doing. I take it you'd agree more with her." He smiled.

Allfathers have mercy! Potter was trying to be friendly, probably trying to build a relationship to get them to a point when he would allow himself to be influenced, and Norns, he was bad at making friendly conversation.

Now, to decide if he would play along or put a stop to it. He had to say that watching Potter fumble through his attempt was the most fun he'd had in a long time. He might as well enjoy it as he searched for an escape, and the longer it lasted, the likelier it was that he'd find a way to get the upper hand.

"I do enjoy reading," Loki said. He picked up the book he'd pretended to read. He'd read it all before, several times, long ago when reading was a refuge, a freely chosen joy, not something to do to make the hours tick by. "This is an epic poem of a hero on a long journey to conquer those that threatened his home, but he returns to find his home in ruins, and the ghosts of his family drive him to suicide by blaming him for their deaths."

Potter's eyebrows climbed up to his messy bangs. "And that's entertaining?"

Loki shrugged one shoulder. "It's more stimulating than looking at the wall."

"Couldn't you pick something else if it doesn't interest you?" Potter looked at the overflowing bookshelf, at the pile of books on the floor at its base.

"They're more of the same. Stories. I prefer to learn something from what I read, useful things, but the Allfather has decided that I cannot be trusted with sources of proper knowledge as I would use them in a way that is contrary to his wishes."

"Would you?"

"We've seldom been of the same opinion."

"That's not an answer."

"No?"

Potter shook his head, leaving that line of inquiry. "Maybe I can provide you with some better reading material."

"From Earth?" Loki scoffed. "Spare me."

"It's an open offer if you change your mind."

"Are you planning on impose your presence on me regularly then?"

"I have an open invitation to visit, so yes, I suppose I am."

"And what will we do during these visits? What do you want from me?"

Potter locked eyes with him. "I was wrong," he said. "You were right."

Loki froze.

"We should do as you said and try to discover why we have these marks." Potter held out his wrist, displaying the two gold-shimmering lines there.

Loki slid his fingers under his own sleeve, touching his own mark.

"I know it won't be the same here as it would have been had you gotten to stay on Earth, but it's something. I admit that I was too quick to dismiss it. I've had time to think about you, us, and I need to see where this goes. I'd hate to live my life wondering what might be and never knowing. There was another big battle on Earth recently, and I met Thor there. Seeing him again, I had to face my choice with you, and I took the opportunity to do something about it. I asked him if I could see you. He wasn't thrilled about it at first, but he did agree to help me, and so here I am."

Potter looked too unerringly into Loki eyes as he spoke. Overcompensating for a lie. Loki knew the tells, had worked on eliminating them from his own speech and movements, had trained himself to be able to act natural no matter what, to not give too many details, to bend the truth, to believe in it wholeheartedly and to remember all he said. Potter wasn't making rudimentary mistakes, but he made mistakes. The question was how much of it was a lie.

"So all you want is to get to know me?"

"Yes."

Loki sighed as if giving in. "Have this literate friend of yours pick a book for me."

Potter grinned. "She'll be delighted."

- Four Golden Lines -

The next time Potter came, he brought as many as eleven books. They were all large, yet he pulled them from a small pocket, a physical impossibility, not something he knew the people of Earth to be capable of. It had curiosity gnawing at Loki, and he had to ask.

"What are you? You're no regular mortal. You use magic. You wouldn't tell me before. Will you now?"

Potter put down the last book. "There is an introduction to my people included here. It's, of course, directed at people who live on Earth not people like you, but it should let you know the basics."

"Humour me. Tell me in your own words."

"All right. I'm a wizard. A human wizard. We are born with magic. We live separate from the rest of the world. We can manipulate matter and energy and minds with our will, using incantations and wands to focus our magic."

"And are all human wizards as strong or fast as you?"

"Given the right preparation."

Loki tilted his head.

"If we drink concoctions prepared with magical ingredients, we can change much about our physicality. Ordinarily, I'm no different from other humans, though wizards and witches heal better and don't grow sick as much."

"So now?"

"So now I'm full up on those same potions as when we first met."

"Ah."

"I'm not that stupid."

"I suppose not."

"Do you care to share anything about your own abilities?"

"What have you seen and heard?"

"You use illusions, and you know how to use a blade."

"So which of these books is it?"

"That's all you're giving me?"

"Is it this one? An introduction to magic for Muggles?"

Potter sighed. "Yes."

- Four Golden Lines -

That was the tone for many more visits. Potter tried to be kind, attentive, and considerate, but he never let go of his caution, and Loki gave as little as he could, unwilling to forgive Potter for sending him back to prison, always searching for a way out that wouldn't immediately have his escape discovered.

Nevertheless, Potter's presence and absence now controlled Loki's life, making him resent his soulmate even more in the time he was left alone with his thoughts. When they were together, though, he was enraptured, too enraptured to have time for any resentment. He did not want to depend on Potter for anything, yet he came to crave the stimuli of conversation, growing antsy when he was alone even with the constant stream of books he was served. Over time, as he allowed himself to appear more friendly as to lull Potter into false safety, it become more difficult to keep an eye on the goal of finding a way to trick his way out of the cell. He was starting to like Potter. His pretence turning to reality as Potter never showed any sign of being anything less than honest in his intent of simply wanting to get to know him.

A number of months after his first visit, Potter was different as he arrived. He had dark circles under his eyes, bruise-like, and his steps lacked their usual spring. Another thing that was different was that Loki's first thought wasn't on how to exploit it. It was worry for Potter.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Won't you tell me?"

"It was only a dream."

"If it were only a dream, I don't think you would look as if you'd not slept for days. You can tell me this. Let me help you."

Potter looked at him with appropriate scepticism. "You want to help me?"

"Or I want to mock you for your nightly terrors. Take a gamble."

"Fine." Potter approached the barrier, leaning against one of the pillars at the corner. "In the dream, I saw Asgard destroyed, fire consuming everything."

"Is that all?"

"That's all."

"Have you been reading about Asgard perchance?"

"No. Why?"

"No reason. If you're not feeling well, perhaps you should return home and rest."

"I'm here now, so I should stay for a bit." Potter activated the key to the cell. He'd been entrusted with it a few weeks before, no longer dependant on the guards to join Loki. He continued to be annoyingly cautious, however, and hid the key somewhere Loki couldn't reach it, magic at work, and he always waited to enter until Loki stood with his back to the wall.

"How'd you like the last book?" Potter sat down, slouching in his fatigue.

"Quidditch is ridiculous."

"Hey!" Potter gained energy with his indignation. "You wouldn't say that if you'd ever played it yourself."

Loki smirked. "Oh, but I would. Completely ridiculous. And entertaining. I'd like to try it."

"We'll make it happen."

Loki's smirk softened to a smile.

- Four Golden Lines -

The circles under Potter's eyes became as recurring as his visits. And always the answer to why was the same. Reoccurring dreams of Asgard's fiery destruction. It took another couple of weeks before Potter discovered an answer, confronting Loki about it.

"I'm dreaming of Ragnarok. A prophecy about the end of the gods. Merlin, I hate prophecies."

"It does seem like it."

"And you knew all along. Of course. But why would I dream about? It makes no sense. This isn't the danger that was supposed to come."

Loki jumped to his feet. "What?"

Potter was slumped over, chin resting in his hand, his glasses pushed up into his hair. He looked at Loki, squinting to combat his myopic vision, all barriers gone. "You know what I've been doing just as well as I do. You've been doing the same, haven't you?"

Betrayal ripped through Loki's chest. He'd grown to care despite himself. Had grown to think that Potter was genuine, and noble fool that he was, it probably was genuine, but it was also fueled by an ulterior motive. The motive was to gain his friendship to make him… do something. He'd known. Potter was like Thor, and Potter was like him. The world had to be saved, and if lying could help, lie he would. Loki resented himself for admiring Potter, and for not immediately hating him again.

Loki cracked a grin, shutting away everything he was feeling behind it. "Yes, we've been playing the same game."

"Have we reached the point where you're willing to talk about what happened to you before you showed up on Earth with an army?"

"Is that what this is about?"

"It is about the Infinity Stones and whoever gave one of them to you so that you could retrieve another. It's about what we can do to prepare when that someone tries to get them again."

Something pricked at the back of Loki's neck. He clenched his hands to keep from rubbing at it, turning his back on Potter. "You should leave."

"No. Something dangerous is coming, to both our homes, and you have been closer to it than anyone else. What you have decided to keep to yourself might get us all killed. By staying silent, you're risking everyone. Everything. I can't wait anymore. Not with these dreams reminding me of the danger we face. Why won't you talk about it? Is it stubbornness? Spite? Fear? You'll gain nothing, but stand to lose everything. Tell me what you know." Potter closed his eyes for a moment. "Please, Loki. This is the moment you show me that you are part of the world that's worth fighting for."

With hitching breath, Loki turned around to face his soulmate.

He watched Loki closely. He seemed to catalogue every slight twitch of Loki face, the flitter of his eyes, the way he clenched and unclenched his hands, and how he swallowed compulsively. "Please," Potter said again.

Loki shook his head. His eyes stung. He felt cold and bereft of energy, like he couldn't breathe properly, his throat swelling shut.

"Why?"

"I can't," he croaked out the words.

"If you can't talk, show me." Harry held out his hand, inviting touch, the catalyst of every soulbond. If willed, it would allow them the same access to each other, soul and mind, as the first time they'd touched, a natural, strong bond of thought transfer.

Loki approached on unsteady legs with his left hand, the one with the mark, reached out, fingers trembling. He wanted—

Inches from reaching Potter's steady hand, something in Loki snapped. He attacked, hand going not to the one Harry was holding out, but to his brow, and his mind followed, piercing through all defenses, seeking anything that would hurt.

- Four Golden Lines -

Harry was in a dark, misty graveyard. A huge, bubbling cauldron spat red sparks. Cloaked and masked figures closed in on him. Unforgivable curses hurtled at him, one after the other. Indescribable pain coursed through him.

He was in the Department of Mysteries. There was danger, fear, loss, and torture of several kinds, emotional, physical, and mental.

Across the lake came a swarm of cloaked figures. They blocked out the full moon. The water froze as they flew low, draining all warmth and happiness from the world. A woman screamed.

He was in a Hogwarts corridor on one of the upper floors, rushing down from the astronomy tower. He fell to the floor, pain robbing him of all control.

A dog barked at him, front paws at the base of the tree, jumping, trying to get at him, to bite him again. It had been at it for hours. The branch he was sat on cut into him.

His long body slithered down a hallway. He was striking at a man with red hair and glasses. His fangs pierced skin. Blood flowed everywhere.

Memories. It was memories. It was all inside his head. Not real. Not really real. It was only remembered pain, but it was excruciating, all encompassing pain. He was drowning in it.

Asgard was in flames. Everything was burning, the fire taking the shape of monsters. Dragons. Snakes. And a massive, horned demon. He was dead. Harry's soulmate was dead.

But it wasn't real. Loki wasn't dead. He was the one doing this.

Harry pushed back.

The soulmate bond didn't stop at releasing him to the surface and pushing Loki out. The momentum carried them away from Harry's mind, propelling them forward into Loki's.

Harry floundered. Loki's mind was broken.

Well, not all of it, but sections, and the rest of his mind was shifted to accommodate the damage. Even Harry, who had limited experience and with the mind arts because he'd had so poor experiences with it when he was young that he'd never bothered to learn more than the basics later in life, could see that the memories weren't whole and healthy. Someone had tampered with them, had fractured parts and pieced them together, all jagged edges lined in a yellow glow.

One moment Thor was there next to Loki. His hair was shorter than when Harry had ever seen him, and he was laughing joyously. Then there was a flash of yellow and Thor's face was dark and twisted, the words coming out of his mouth hurtful.

The next moment, a man lay unconscious in a big bed and a regal woman bowed to Loki, calling him king. Loki's expression was distraught, but then there was another flash of yellow, and Loki was sitting on a throne, right at home in the position of power, ordering people about.

Darkness and cold followed. Loki tumbled through nothingness. Harry sensed his pain. It was the pain of having the truth upon which you'd constructed your existence shattered, and the pain of a body failing from lack of sustenance.

The natural progression of memory stopped. Harry couldn't continue, blocked by a solid barrier of yellow energy.

Loki shifted into existence beside him. The barrier lashed out at him, engulfing him, empowering him, controlling him. He directed the energy of the barrier in a barrage against Harry who was powerless against it.

He came to in his own body, expelled. His breathing was ragged, heart pounding hard, head hurting. The energy web around the cell was down. The Asgardian guards had come. They had their weapons trained on Loki, ready to strike.

"Merlin's saggy balls." He gasped. "Stop! Don't hurt him!"

End Chapter TWO

A/N 5th May 2018

Thoughts, feelings, hope for what happens next? Lay it all on me.

(This chapter was brought to you because I watched Infinity War and used writing as a means of processing it).

[Edited 5th August 2018]