—WARNING: in this chapter, we're getting into the territory that will earn this story its rating. And not in the fun way.

Four Golden Lines

Chapter THREE
Words: 5 901

Harry tapped his foot, stopping himself when he heard how much the noise stood out in the quiet room and settled for chewing on the inside of his cheek. After he'd stopped the prison guards from striking Loki, things had happened very fast. Harry had been forced to subdue Loki himself as his soulmate attacked. Harry had stunned Loki by throwing several stunners at him in quick progression, and once he was out cold, Harry had explained to the guards what had happened and their decision had brought them the royal halls of healing. The still unconscious Loki had been placed in a contraption which was manipulated by a striking woman who'd introduced herself as Eir, master healer of Asgard. She made holographic images float in the air above Loki's head, showing a web of neurons in glittering pale blue. Contrary to what Harry had expected, there was no trace of yellow in the images she'd produced, but the set of her mouth revealed that she had noticed something that wasn't as it ought to be.

Harry wondered how he'd not noticed that something wrong before. He was trained to discover mental manipulation. He had to be seeing as there was so much magic that could influence people against their will, and discovering it was paramount in his line of work. No one wanted a repeat of the Death Eater Trials following the first war with Voldemort where so many had escaped punishment by claiming to have been controlled. Learning to better recognize Imperious exposure and exposure to other means of mind control had been seen as paramount in the years after the Second War, and several new methods had been produced, most of which Harry knew well. He should have been able to tell that something was influencing his soulmate. Granted, whatever that energy embedded in Loki's mind was, it was unlikely to be anything Harry had ever encountered before, the origin completely alien to him. The logical excuse for his failure didn't stop Harry from berating himself for missing it until it came to a critical point though. He couldn't come up with any excuse that felt good enough. He'd spent so much time with Loki over the last few months, talking and talking. He should have been able to tell.

The guards from the prison who'd remained to guard Loki, not about to forsake their duty upon Harry's word that it was safe, snapped to attention, their armour clanking as they bowed their heads with a hand held over their hearts. What had prompted them to this display was the arrival of an old man with a family resemblance to Thor, wearing ornate armour and a patch over his left eye. Harry had never met him before. He'd not interacted with many citizens of Asgard, but it was impossible not to see the man for whom and what he was. Odin Allfather, the King of Asgard, Protector of the Nine Realms.

The King took in the room, shoulders and neck tensed. "What is the meaning of this? Why is Loki not in the prison as I've ordered? You, Harry Potter of Earth, tell me why this criminal has been let loose."

"Allfather," Eir, the healer, began to speak up.

"Quiet! If I want your opinion, I shall ask for it."

She demurred, going back to her work while still paying close attention to Odin and Harry, watching them through lowered eyelashes.

"Well?" Odin said.

Harry got to his feet, teeth clenched, anger dunking inside. "What do you think? He's with a healer because he's unwell. It doesn't take a genius to figure that out." Mouthing off against the sovereign of a realm as mighty as Asgard might not be wise, but Harry's temper had always been able to get the best of him.

Odin's face twisted in a sneer, and a growl rumbled in his chest. "Do not talk in that tone to me, boy! I have accepted your presence in this Realm because Thor swears that you are worthy of such trust and that it is by my spell that you've been deemed thus, but you should not test my patience. Explain how this came to be."

Harry didn't back down, pulling himself up to his full height, hands balled into fists. "He was about to tell me what I've been building up to ask him. He decided to finally help us, to do the right thing, not be a criminal anymore, but something stopped him. He attacked my mind. And yes! I know he could have been lying, but when I defended myself I ended up in his mind and things weren't normal. The memories were twisted and there was a magical barrier. It attacked both him and me."

"Is this true?" Odin turned to Eir.

Her mouth was set in a grim line. "I don't know if the human tells the truth. I can only tell you what I've learned in my initial examination. Loki's mind was gravely injured some time ago. The natural healing has not succeeded in putting things right. The energy is out of joint, like bone not set right. I suspect torture and outside psychic influence."

All the brusqueness, all the power, all the command, and all the anger seeped out of Odin. He shrunk, his shoulders sagging, his legs buckling.

"My liege!" One of the guards rushed to Odin's assistance.

The Allfather brushed him off with a lifted hand. Taking command of himself, he went to Loki's side, knelt by the soulforge, and took Loki's limp hand, bringing it to his chest, holding it close, cradling it. Moisture glittered in his eye.

Silence reigned. No one dare interfere as the Allfather remained by his son's side, unmoving but for the emotions playing out on his face. Sorrow. Regret. Fear.

Harry resumed biting the flesh of his cheek and worrying.

A long while later, Odin placed Loki's hand back at his side and rose arduously to his feet. "Eir, continue your examination. Find what ails him and the cure for it."

"At once."

"Harry Potter, help an old man to a seat."

Harry's anger had ebbed, and he did as requested, taking some of Odin's weight, capable of mustering the burden of an Asgardian body because of the strengthening potions that were still flowing through his system. With Odin's arm draped across his shoulder, Harry led him to a bench by one of the walls, easing him down onto it.

Odin looked at Loki, unwilling or incapable of glancing away. "I failed him. I should have understood that he was hurt, that more was wrong than what I already knew. I was blinded by his actions, unable to look beyond them to the cause, too willing to think the worst, and in doing so I proved him right. I have played favourites with my sons. I let him down when he needed me the most."

"It's not over."

A small chuckle escaped past Odin's lips. "Ah, to be young again, and see the future with all of its possibilities stretch out endlessly before you. I don't have the luxury of time anymore. Yes, yes, what you say is true. It's not over for him. He shall have the help he should have received the moment he was brought home, and he will receive a new punishment amended by this new insight, but my failure as a father remains, and I shall have to live with that for the remainder of my days."

"I've failed him too." Harry looked down at his golden mark. It remained the temperature it had been for two years, slightly warmer than any other part of his skin. He'd found it an annoying distraction for most of those two years. Before Sokovia, he'd tried to ignore it, as he'd tried to ignore his decision not to give Loki a chance even as he sometimes lay awake thinking that it was a mistake and that they were meant to be together, to evolve together into something better, and that he should have put in the effort to change things, not putting all the responsibility on Loki.

Once he started visiting Loki, the mark had served as a reminder of Harry's duplicity, an inescapable accusation branded on his person, telling him that he was abusing something that was sacred. Later, the mark's presence had elicited more conflicting thoughts. The guilt remained, but there had been hope too. Harry could look at it and feel what he'd dreamt of feeling back when he hadn't known who his soulmate was, a comfort and gentle reminder that there was one person in existence who was meant to be a part of his life and make things better. The transition happened at the same time as Harry transitioned from forcing himself to be polite and friendly, to genuinely enjoying spending time with Loki and looking forward to meeting him, even if it meant that he'd be the target of acerbic remarks and stubborn resistance at his efforts of building a report. Yet Loki had changed over time too, ceasing to resist Harry's every effort at creating a relationship. Harry half hoped that he'd been right when he accused Loki of having pretended to lower his walls and accept Harry as a fixture in his life. It would make his own actions less injurious if the deception had been mutual as Loki has claimed. At the same time, he couldn't hope that. He treasured the progress they'd made too much, and he worried that they wouldn't get to continue. Either because Loki wouldn't be able to forgive him or because he was too damaged.

"I would not say that you've failed him," Odin said. "It's your actions that have brought us here, to a point where he can begin to heal and things can turn for the better. For all of us."

"Allfather, do you recognise this?" Eir interrupted their conversation, indicating a haze of yellow that the soulforge now displayed. It overlay the entirety of the blue neural connections, more saturated in some places, notably in the frontal cortex.

Bidden with a nudge to assist, Harry served as a human crutch again, helping Odin to get back to Loki's side.

Odin placed a hand on Loki's brow and closed his eye. Whatever he did, it had an effect on the yellow haze. It moved sluggishly, pushing outward. Odin gritted his teeth, wrinkled brow furrowed in concentration. He gasped, opened his eye, and drew his hand back as if burned.

"We need the mind stone."

"The mind stone?" Harry said.

"During his fall, Loki met someone who gave him a powerful sceptre. Later we learned that it held one of the Infinity Stones, the stones Thor is now searching for. The stone was removed from the sceptre and used to give life to an artificial being."

"Oh."

An artificial being, metal and flesh combined, has proven worthy.

"You must return to Earth to request his aid."

"Shouldn't Thor be the one to go? They know him and wouldn't mind helping if he's the one asking."

"We should not waste the time it would take to call him back and to explain."

"I guess."

"You will have to do it."

Harry looked at Loki, lips pressed together. Harry didn't want to leave, but leaving was the way to help. What he wanted, to use their connection again to go right in to defeat that which was hurting his soulmate wouldn't work. He'd been chanceless before and he knew that his skill in mind magic was severely lacking, especially in the aspect of healing. Gnawing at his cheek again, Harry saw the yellow haze moving. It was unsettled. It could be hurting Loki more. Something had to be done as soon as possible.

- Four Golden Lines -

It was night time when Harry landed at the New Avengers Facility in upstate New York. The Bifrost had slammed him down on a large lawn that glittered silver with dew in the light of a low hanging moon. The large, futuristic building in front of him was dark, no light spilling out the many windows.

Harry set off at a jog to try and find an entrance. Upfront there were only windows, showing large empty halls inside. While he could use line-of-sight apparition to get inside, he thought he'd better not. He didn't want to start a conflict. Knocking on the door like a reasonable person and calmly explaining why he was there was his best bet. He'd met some of them before, fought with them, talked with them, albeit briefly. They would hear him.

He backed off from the walls, out on the lawn, taking a wide loop around the next corner only to duck to the ground, falling flat on his front as something, announced by a high pitched whiz, flew over his head. A second later he was pinned to the ground by crackling red energy.

Destination, determination, deliberation. He thought himself back to the rune that stamped ground at the spot of his arrival with a swift apparition, swaying as he went from laying down to standing up. He hated that manoeuvre.

He coughed weakly as his stomach settled and then gathered air. "Don't attack!" he shouted.

A man swooped down, landing in front of him, large metal wings spanning out from his back. A woman joined him, her fingers enclosed in the same red energy that had held Harry down. Harry didn't recognise the man, but he had met the woman in Sokovia.

"So you come in peace, huh?" the man said.

"Yes! We've—"

"See, I need a little more than that. The last Asgardian who wasn't Thor spoke of peace too, but then he went and killed a lot of people."

Harry cast a silencing spell at the man. Right now, he wouldn't hear people talk ill about his soulmate who may not have been at his full faculties when doing the killing in question.

Harry's action, not recognised as harmless, set off the woman who lashed out at him with more of that crackling red energy. It held him locked. If it weren't for the strengthening potion he took every time he visited Loki, Harry wouldn't have been able to move at all. As it was, he could move his wand hand just enough, and he sent an ice-making spell at the ground under the woman's feet. At the sudden change in footing, she lost her concentration, falling to the ground with a thunk, leaving Harry free of her influence. That the man was silenced, meant little for his fighting capabilities, however, and he had taken pistols into his hands, aiming at Harry. At least he didn't shoot.

"Will you stop fighting me and talk with me for a second?" Harry tried for a placating hand gesture, palms up, wand held loosely.

The man with the wings waved one of his hands at his own mouth, like, it's not as if I can talk, now is it?

Harry grimaced.

"Yes, we'll talk," said the woman who'd climbed to her feet.

"Good. Thank you. I'm—"

Before Harry could get any further in his explanation of why he had come another player entered the field. Iron Man landed between Harry and the two others, gloved hand with glowing repulsors aimed at him.

"Make one move and you'll get blasted, ET."

Harry let out a big sigh, closing his eyes to gather patience. He didn't have time for this. Loki could be hurting. "Mr Stark."

"You know me?" The visor of the Iron Man helmet came up.

"We met briefly in Sokovia. My name's Harry Potter."

"Oh." Stark did a double take. "Oh! You! Didn't recognize you. You know, you look a lot less, eh, Thorish today. You're good ol' this-usually-works's soulmate, right? Say, does it work better now?"

Harry frowned. "I have no idea what you mean."

"Yeah, okay, never mind. Not that friendly yet? I get that. Attempted world domination is a bit of a turnoff."

"What?"

"Might be for the best that you don't get my references. So, why're you here? If you arrived by pride wormhole, I'm guessing you went along with Thor's plan. How's blond and muscly?"

"I've not seen him for weeks, but last I saw him, he was fine, and yes, I agreed to his plan."

"And? Did you get Loki to talk? Is this a call to tell us that we know who wants the MacGuffins and that the end is nigh?"

"Eh, I don't…The world's not ending. I'm here because we need to borrow the mind stone."

"Who're we? And also, no."

The woman took a few steps forward, coming up side by side with Stark. "You can't borrow the mind stone. It's a part of someone."

"Right. Bad choice of words. We need help from the one who carries the stone. Loki was influenced by it." Harry clenched his eyes shut. "Is influenced by it."

"Son of a bitch." Stark continued swearing in a long tirade, which Harry fully agreed with. He'd been swearing internally a lot over the last day. "So you're telling me he was just like all those mind-controlled agents, like Barton? Not in charge, just another puppet?"

"I don't know. I don't think it's that clear-cut."

"And you don't know who the puppet master is either?"

"No. He was about to tell me, I think. Tell me about what happened to him between disappearing from Asgard and coming to Earth, but the thing that's still in his mind took control. I, we, need to remove it, the control."

"Okay, so while I'm not his biggest fan, I can't argue with that. Letting someone, even if it's the guy who threw me out a window, have his mind fucked with is not okay in my books. Damn. I won't be able to stay mad at him if he's a victim. This all sucks. I should bill you or something, for robbing me of a target for my just ire. Did I just say just ire?"

"Tony." The woman placed a hand on Stark's upper arm.

"Yeah, okay, Maximoff, I'm done. Should I call Vision or do you want to? I think he'd prefer to hear it from you. He can make the decision for himself if he wants to jump across the universe. Who am I kidding? Of course, he'll help."

- Four Golden Lines -

Stark had been right. Vision had decided to help and had come to Asgard with two other Avengers tagging along to see to his protection. Harry hadn't thought Odin would be thrilled about that many guests, but Harry had not protested on the King's behalf, thinking expedience outweighed all else. He'd been right to expect Odin's displeasure which had been vocal and which had made the atmosphere oppressive until Eir had said that anyone who'd cause an argument and impair the sanctity of the healing halls would have to leave, Allfathers included.

When Vision had drawn away, the yellow haze pulled out like venom from a wound, and absorbed by the infinity stone, Harry had felt vindicated in his choice. Results were what mattered. Loki had still remained unconscious, though, kept that way by means known to the healers rather than by Harry's magic, and it would take some time before that wore off. Even in unconsciousness, there had been a change in Loki's expression, an easing of the muscles in his face, a relaxation proving what the soulforge was showing: normal activity without malicious outside influence.

Two days later, the Avengers were still in Asgard, waiting for Loki to wake up. Vision might be able to help further with Loki's healing, but Eir has said that Loki would have to decide that. When someone in her care was not in immediate danger she claimed to not be at liberty to prescribe treatments, especially not ones that crossed the line of integrity and morals. The wounds that remained in Loki's mind were, as she could see it, severe, but they had shaped Loki and removing them without his consent would be erasure of several years of experiences, turning things back like they'd been pre his fall from Asgard and she would not stand for that being done to him because they might think it best. The Allfather has backed her up as well, though he'd seemed pained in doing so.

Harry had not strayed from Loki's side in that time, using his invisibility cloak to get back in when Eir's assistants came to usher him out. He logically knew that there wasn't anything he could do and that sitting there was by no means productive, but he felt responsible for what had occurred and wanted to be there the moment Loki openness his eyes so that he might… Harry didn't actually know what he would do, what to expect. He wanted to apologise, smooth things over, make things right. Whatever that meant.

Though he hadn't meant to, Harry had fallen asleep, and he woke with a jerk, cold and warm at once, fire lingering behind his eyelids. He'd seen Asgard destroyed again, orange flame consuming everything, destroying, leaving nothing in its wake. Seeing it again had Harry shivering, his heart pounding too fast. He probably should have brought it up with Odin. It just hadn't been a good time. There were other, more immediate things to be concerned about, yet, he did want an explanation for it, and Odin seemed the likeliest candidate on the list of people capable of giving him one.

Harry breathed out a long, trembling sigh. The air didn't reflect right back at his face. His invisibility cloak had fallen off his head when he woke up, and he went to pull it up but noticed that he was watched, grey eyes looking at him.

"You're awake." He was on his feet and next to Loki without registering he'd moved.

Loki opened and closed his mouth, said something unintelligible, and cleared his throat. "I don't want you here."

"What." Harry's throat tightened, making it difficult to breathe.

"I don't want you here. I don't want you near me. I want you gone."

"But—"

"No. Leave."

Harry did as he had done the first time he visited Loki in prison. He ignored the unwelcoming words. Although his innards did not. They churned. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Leave me."

"Loki, I—"

"Leave!" Loki's face twisted, his eyes wild, and he was half sitting up, ready to bodily expel Harry from his vicinity.

Loki's shout drew the healers. Eir came storming in, face stern and eyes flashing. "Potter! You're not supposed to be here."

"Yes, I am. He's my— I have to—"

"What you have to do is follow orders, and my order now, as before, is for you to leave. You're upsetting my patient."

"But—"

"No buts! I will hear no more."

Defiance reared its head within Harry. He'd disobeyed before. He had no problem thinking about it again. "I'll only come back. Loki—"

"Don't. Don't come back."

Harry's storm of emotions stilled, his half cooked plans dissolving.

"Don't come back. Ever." Loki didn't look at him, spoke with his face turned the other way, voice perfectly levelled and cool.

Harry's face lost all of its colour and he felt vaguely ill. "You don't mean that. I understand that you might not want to talk to me now, but later—"

"Don't presume to know what I mean, what I feel. You understand little, but understand that I'm happy to be a disappointment in return."

Recognising his own words and having them thrown back at him was like being slapped across the face. Harry recoiled right into the hands of two guards how grabbed him, pulling him towards the exit him from the room.

Without any power potion left, Harry's effort to shrug them off was futile. Their grip was steel.

"I'm sorry," he said and the doors to the healing hall closed behind him.

- Four Golden Lines -

"Loki."

Loki turned his head, going from unseeingly staring out the window through which the cityscape of Asgard was visible to trying to see Thor. He squinted his eyes closed and blinked heavily, trying to get some focus. It worked marginally. Some fussiness remained, his sight as woollen as his mind.

Thor sat down next to him, exuding warmth though plenty of space remained between them. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm well."

Thor shuffled in his seat. "I've been told what happened."

Loki said nothing. There hadn't been a question there, and he had no wish to comment.

"I'm sorry I couldn't tell what had been done to you, that I thought it was all you."

"It was all me."

"Loki—"

"No!" Clarity came with the rising anger, Thor's face swimming into focus from the haze it had been in. Loki rose, putting distance between them. "I was not controlled. I made all the decisions. I killed those mortals. I lead the Chitauri. I controlled Barton and Selvig. I sent you tumbling towards your death in the glass cage. I stabbed you. It was me. All of it. There are no excuses you can cling to. There are no exonerating circumstances. Nothing has changed."

Vindication filled him as his words got a rise out of Thor who got up from his seat, coming to crowd Loki, grabbing his upper arms and holding him still so that he couldn't easily escape.

"Then tell me that it was all you in your cell before Potter brought you to the healers. Tell me that the force which Vision removed from your mind was your own magic manifested. Tell me that the damage Eir can see in your mind was of your own design. Tell me that you never had moments of clarity on Midgard during which my words got through to you. Tell me that you are not going days where you don't speak and you can't hear or see anyone. Tell me that you were ignoring me the first four times I said your name, that you weren't lost in your own head. Tell me that no one has hurt you."

"Yes. Everything is exactly as you've said it."

"You lie."

"Believe what you will."

Thor shook him as if that would make Loki see things his way. "You can't fool me, and you can't go on fooling yourself. You have to accept what happened if you are to move on from this, if you're not to be stuck in this room forever. You have to accept that control was taken from you, not cling to this idea that you willingly and gladly attacked Midgard, that you're a monster."

Loki flinched. "I am a monster."

"No. No, Loki." One of Thor's hands came up to cradle the side of Loki's face. "You're not. You've never been. You're my brother."

"I'm not—"

"You are my brother, and you've had monstrous things done to you, done through you, but that does not make you a monster."

"You know what I am and it is not your brother."

A gush of warm air hit Loki's face as Thor sighed. "I can tell that you will not be swayed on that now. I shall have to try again later."

Thor's grip went lax and Loki seized the opportunity to remove himself from his side, returning to his seat by the window, and fixing his gaze on the horizon. Clouds were forming there. Their soft, white shapes easy to rest his eyes on. He didn't have any more energy to fuel the anger he held for Thor. For everyone.

"Eir has told me what you're doing. She's not going to intervene yet, but you can only escape for so long. You can't keep hiding."

The last of his energy burned as anger through Loki. Teeth bared, he snapped around to glare at Thor. "I'm not a coward."

Thor had the audacity to remain calm. "Then face what has happened. Let Vision help you. He can use the mind stone to—"

"No."

"We expected you'd say that. I brought you something." He gestured to one of the tables. Loki, stubbornly, did not look. "Potter insisted I give it to you. It should give you the means to do the same thing Vision can."

"I don't want his help."

"And yet you have it. As you have mine. We'll keep giving you more time to do things your way, leaving the decision of when it's enough to Eir, but eventually, you won't be given a choice. You will be helped. I'd prefer it if it were in a way that didn't damage your pride. Rest well."

After Thor left, Loki sunk back into the meditative state he'd been in since shortly after waking up away from his cell. Thor was right that it was an escape, a way to hide. He felt as worn now as he had when he opened his eyes to the healing chamber. His head hurt whenever he cast his thought to the past. Remembered pain escaping the memories to tickle into his nerves, making it real. Panic came on, tied to the pain, bringing pangs of chill and heat, making him shiver and sweat. It was undesired sensations, and trying to sort through things made it worse, enhanced the reactions his body had. Ignoring it and going on as if nothing had changed worked just as poorly. Everything he encountered brought up associations. He couldn't escape. His sleeping mind was another trap. Because he would not consciously deal with it, the natural processes tried to do it for him, jumbling up things further, making the clear cuts between true memories and the ones inflicted on him ripple and blur. The solution had been not to deal with it, to fall into meditation where he didn't think, didn't need to sleep, did nothing.

At times stimuli he could not account for drew him out, such as Thor calling his name, or one of the healers coaxing him to eat. Other times, small things were to blame. Now, a smell reached him, sweet and something burnt and rain, which was how Potter had smelled one time when he'd brought his favourite snack to share, hair still damp from the rain in another realm. Loki came to, expecting to see the wizard there. He prepared for confrontation but found that he was alone.

Alone was bad. It meant that he didn't know what was going to happen next. Who would come. What they would do.

He shuddered, clenching his hand, nails digging into his palm. It was Asgard, not, there. No one but the healers or the people they approved would come.

The smell was from a trace the wizard had left, the thing Thor had brought at his request, a wooden box.

Loki picked it up, feeling the grain of the wood under his fingers, and loathing, unnaturally strong had him throwing it against the wall. He bent over, folding at the middle, phantom pain flooding his body. He should return to his meditation. Anger wasn't safe. Thinking of Potter could only make him angry, could only make him feel betrayed, could only make him think of Odin, Frigga, and Thor who had tried to destroy him. The smiles, the tender touches, the times spent together were lies that had been torn down, his eyes opened, knowledge bestowed upon him.

But it couldn't be right. If it were, he would be alright. Not hurt. Normal. Loki pulled at his hair, the ache at the roots making it easier to distinguish between the pain he felt in the present and the pain that came from his mind. His method of dealing with this wasn't working. But he couldn't accept help. Thor had tossed him into the abyss. Potter had tried to kill him. No. That was false. Loki had let go. Potter had defended himself when Loki was robbed of control. His skull split in two, joining the split memories. He was on the floor, head in his hands, jaw clenched as he let the pain ebb through him.

In time, it receded, and as he slumped. His hand touched the box. He jerked it back on instinct. He didn't want it. He didn't want Potter's help. It was poison, sweet, cloying. Making a frustrated noise at the back of his throat, Loki picked up the box. He needed the help. There was help to be had. He wasn't left to fend on his own. Better to do something himself than to wait for Eir to force it down his throat.

The lid of the box opened easily, one of the hinges loose. Inside there was a letter, several smaller boxes, long and thin, and a shallow stone bowl. Magic tingled at his fingertips. Some of the boxes repelled him. Others were simply there. A couple pulled at him, singing softly. He knew not what they were. Finding out on his own was his first inclination. It felt safer to experiment and try his luck than to read Potter's letter, to have his soulmate's words come into his mind, to let them in where they could wreak havoc. But, of course, reading was the saner action, and he forced himself to abandon the seductive, beckoning madness and follow reason.

When he unfolded the letter, the scent that had pulled him from his meditation grew stronger, and Loki disappeared from the present for a moment, returned to the cell, feeling the warmth of Potter's hand as they came close to touching, something Loki had studiously avoided.

He clenched his teeth and made himself see the paper, carefully keeping the words in his own voice, not Potter's, as he read.

The bowl is called a Pensive. It is made to store memories and make it possible to watch them in full to discover things you miss when they remain in your head, and it makes it easier to recognise manipulation.

I only know how to remove memories using a wand, which is why the boxes are there. There's a wand in each box. Find one that will work with you. It'll be obvious if you touch them. A wizard doesn't choose a wand, the wand chooses the wizard. Once you have a wand, all you have to do is hold it against your temple and think of the memory you want to remove. Pull the wand away and the memory will be pulled out. Then you place the memory in the Pensive. When you wish to see a memory that's kept in the Pensive, you simply touch it. It will feel like falling, but it's not dangerous. You will be in your memory, but nothing can physically touch you. Thought is all that's needed to control it, to switch between memories and to get out of the Pensive. Think it and it'll happen.

A word of warning. All memories you remove in this way will really be gone from your mind. You'll know the event passed, but it will be blurry, the emotions associated with it dampened. It is not a long-term solution, but it can be a help while you heal.

If you want more assistance, you need only let me know.

I'm sorry I hurt you.

Harry

End Chapter THREE

A/N 12th July 2018

Loki's not in a good place. How do you imagine it will go? Is there a happy ending to be had?

[Edited 5th August 2018]