Harry was still in Russia when the Quidditch World Cup fever was taking over the magical populations around the world. It was Bulgaria against Ireland, and being hosted in England. Harry was really just grateful to not be anywhere near that mess. Even with three years of watching quidditch matches at Hogwarts, he still didn't really see the appeal. Apart from flying. He liked flying. But quidditch? Nah, not his thing.
Actually, competition in general wasn't really something he cared for much. Certainly he wanted to do the best he could at whatever he was trying to do, but the whole competition thing... it was divisive, as evidenced by the House rivalries at Hogwarts. It might have been 'friendly competition' once upon a time, but it kind of wasn't any more.
Harry tried to stay out of that, as much as he could, as well.
The headmaster just had to announce a whole new competition at the opening feast though. One that, judging from the general reaction of the student body, was a lot less popular than the old man probably intended it to be. But really, what did he expect? Cancelling the inter-house quidditch tournament the same year as England had hosted the Quidditch World Cup? There were four teams worth of players who wanted to try moves they'd seen at the professional game while it was still fresh in everybody's minds.
Either way it was nothing to do with him. Harry was much more concerned with his Runes projects and the latest mail from Bruce and Tony than he was with the competition. Either of them.
On the other hand, the international guests were fairly interesting – as was the fact that, despite his best intentions of having nothing to do with the competition (he fully intended to opt-out of even watching, taking the time to get in more study), his name had just been spat out of the elaborate coffee mug.
"Mr Potter, if you would please join the other Champions?" Dumbledore requested, after having announced the name that had appeared on the fourth piece of paper to be ejected from the goblet.
Loki, down the table from Dumbledore, made eye-contact with the teenager in question and nodded slightly.
Harry sighed (loudly) and grumbled (audibly) about lost study time and stupid competitions, before he shoved himself out of his seat (blatantly unhappy) and dragged his feet across the room to the door where the three older students had disappeared shortly before.
"Do zey want us now?" asked the French girl.
"I am deeply sorry and can offer only my most sincere apologies," Harry answered. "Because due to the actions of an unknown but complete and total git, I have been entered into this competition completely against my will."
"What?!" all three of the older students yelped. Viktor and Fleur may not have had the best grasp of the English language, but they understood that this fourteen-year-old kid was entered into the competition that was supposed to be only for of-age participants.
Then the teachers and ministry officials arrived and both confirmed it and objected about it, without any of them once offering a suggestion for a way to get Harry out of the competition. Well, until Processor Loki swept in and cast a blanket silencing spell over the collective jabbering adults.
"Thank you," Loki said drolly. "Champions, Mr Potter," he called, and waved them over. "The Tri-Wizard Tournament consists of three tasks. These three tasks will be a series of paper-rock-scissors games."
Despite being silenced, the two ministry officials clearly gesticulated and changed colours from calm-pasty to irate-puce in objection to the proposal.
Harry and Loki were quietly both surprised to see that Dumbledore didn't like the proposition much more than the other two, and even Moody looked mildly incensed by the idea.
The champions were quick to agree however, and Loki officiated. Fleur won, after much quiet giggling between the four teenagers (not that they'd admit it, but it was fun).
"And so, the magic of the contract is fulfilled," Loki declared with a smirk. "Of course, Mister Diggory, Mr Krum, and Mademoiselle Delacour will still be pleased to compete in the tasks that have been determined already, I'm sure. But now Mr Potter will not be forced to participate in a tournament he has no desire to be in."
Harry smiled and nodded. "Thank you Professor," he said, truly and completely grateful. If they hadn't been in company, he might even have hugged his teacher for getting him so neatly out of that mess.
Loki nodded back and lay an almost paternal hand on the boy's shoulder. "Come along Mr Potter, you have homework," he said, and steered the boy out of the room and escorted him up to his common room.
~oOo~
There was a ball as part of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, so Harry decided to (for once) stay at Hogwarts for the winter holiday. He didn't ask any of the girls to go with him. He wasn't interested in dating just yet, and certainly he wasn't interested in dancing. He got to laugh at some of his friends when they tried at McGonagall's dancing lessons before the ball though.
Really, was it so hard? Hell, he'd gone to those lessons for fun, even if he wasn't interested in having a date for the ball, and he'd not found it too hard.
According to how and where he applied pressure on the body of his dance partner, they would move. He just had to be aware enough to keep his feet out of the way of her feet, whoever his partner was. In the dance lessons, he'd managed to snag Hermione.
At the ball itself? Well, he hadn't gone on a hunt for a date, and had shown up without one. He was quite happy to just prop up a wall and enjoy the atmosphere. The Great Hall really was very nicely done up for the occasion.
"Having fun, Mr Potter?" a familiar voice asked.
"Yes Sir," Harry answered, and then looked up at the man. Only to blink in utter shock.
Loki smirked back, a smirk full of amusement and mischief. "Sir?" he parroted. "Not tonight, Mr Potter."
Harry worked his jaw for a moment before finally managing to croak out: "How -?"
Loki chuckled. "I suggest you get in some research on Norse Myths, Mr Potter. Loki, the god of fire, mischief, and various other things, had a fondness for causing harmless chaos. Sometimes, that involved masquerading as a woman. I thought this would be the perfect opportunity to have a bit of that same variety of fun," Loki explained.
Harry chuckled. "Well, if I may say so Professor, you look good," he offered.
Loki laughed lowly. He may have been dressed up as a woman, used a hair-lengthening spell and was even showing off some curves that under normal circumstances weren't there, but he hadn't changed his voice at all.
"Will you dance with me, Mr Potter?" Loki asked with a smile.
"Will you lead, or follow?" Harry countered with a one-sided smirk and a raised eyebrow.
"I'm in a dress tonight, Mr Potter. I'll follow your lead," Loki promised with a humouring grin as he held out his hand delicately. "Unless you prove to be particularly terrible at it."
Harry claimed the offered hand and led his favourite professor out onto the dance floor. Oh, he was so going to get it later if anybody else figured out who his dance partner was. But strangely enough, Harry found he didn't care. In fact, he wished Colin were hanging about taking pictures of the ball. He'd quite like one of himself dancing with Professor Loki. Even if only to laugh at any time he was feeling down.
~oOo~
Harry, determined to get his project finished before the end of the school year and with exactly no interest whatsoever in the Triwizard Tournament, was taking refuge in Professor Loki's classroom while the final task was taking place. He'd already re-made his previous year's project, though it had taken a couple of months, and once again wore his amulet at all times. This year's project was meant to be able to render a person completely frozen in time. Without killing them. It would work as a defensive object – if the person is frozen in time, then nothing harmful can touch them – and also as a thing that would allow for people already injured to be transported to a place of healing without any further damage.
The trick was how to activate it and deactivate it. If the person who activated it was the one affected, then someone else would have to deactivate it, because the person frozen in time wouldn't be able to do anything at all, including freeing themselves from the little device that Harry was making. If it could be remotely activated to work on another person, then that would be better.
The thing could also, potentially, be a way to keep criminals from doing anything. An excellent way to keep them contained, but not so much a punishment for any wrong-doings. They wouldn't even be aware of the passage of time to get bored with their inability to do anything, after all. Still, if they were in it for long enough, then coming out after so long might be something of a punishment. Still, better not to leave criminals in that state just for someone else to deal with later.
And that wasn't why Harry wanted to get it done by the end of the school year anyway. He was much more interested in the device's defensive capabilities.
For example, if he could freeze a person in time moments before they were hit by a nasty curse, or a bullet, then it wouldn't hurt them, and he'd then be able to unfreeze them again once the moment of danger was past, and they'd be able to continue on, unharmed.
If he could get it to work, could figure out the on-off problems he was having, then maybe he'd be able to sell it to police, or Aurors, or soldiers going off to war. He would probably send one to Tony, just for the man to try and figure out.
The man wasn't entirely up on the whole 'magic' thing, to him, Harry's proposition of how to get the Elixir of Life from the Philosopher's Stone had been mostly academic. As well as a sly challenge to the man to try and figure out how to make one. Tony had pretty much completely discarded the idea after a couple of months of frustration and exclaiming over the impossibilities, but it had kept him occupied for a while, and his genius brain did love a challenge. He revisited it every other month still, and would likely continue to do so until he figured it out. The man wasn't a quitter, even if 'impossibilities' frustrated him and his focus shifted to other things.
A knock at the door interrupted the quiet that Harry had been enjoying, where the only sound in the classroom had been his own mutterings, and Loki turning the pages of the book he was reading.
"Come," Loki called.
"Sorry to bother you Professor, but... Oh, Harry! There you are!" Hermione exclaimed.
"What's the matter Hermione?" Harry asked, and set aside his project to give her his full attention. She looked simply distraught.
"There's been a death," Hermione announced. "Victor..." and she choked, tears welling up in her eyes and a lump lodging in her throat that she couldn't speak past.
She'd been Victor Krum's date for the Yule Ball, and his hostage to be retrieved in the second task. They'd become quite close in such a short space of time.
Harry wordlessly held out his arms for her, and Hermione dived into his chest, where she proceeded to sob for some time as Harry offered what comfort he could.
"Miss Granger," Loki said when Hermione's sobs started to subside. "Does anybody have any idea what happened?"
"Professor Dumbledore said something about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named returning," Hermione answered weakly. "The Minister's being rather vocal in his denials of such a possibility, saying that it's just a tragic accident."
Loki nodded solemnly and passed her a conjured handkerchief to wipe her face with.
~oOo~
Even with that sort of terrible news hanging over everybody at the end of the year, Harry kept up with his tradition of throwing darts at maps to pick where he holidayed. That summer, he made plans to go to New Mexico – and since he was going to be in America, he promised Tony that he'd visit, provided the billionaire had time. It was entirely possible that the infamous Pepper Potts (well, she was infamous in Tony's letters) would have him all tied up with other goings on.
Fourteen-going-on-fifteen wasn't old enough for Harry to rent a car, and the United States of America had very little else available in the way of rent-able transportation. Carts weren't common, camels even less so. Bicycles were fairly plentiful, but as healthy as Harry was, he had no desire to pedal for miles upon miles of near-endless American highway.
Especially not in the New Mexico desert.
Tony, bless his glowing, metal heart, somehow got someone to have a horse waiting for him when he got off the plane and out of customs. There was a note with it, naturally.
"Hope this beast gives you a smoother ride than the stinking camel did. – Tony."
Harry had chuckled dryly, thanked the woman who'd been waiting with the horse and the sign that had his name written on it, and hung his duffel bag (which had his trunk inside, same as when he'd been in Afghanistan, as he'd kind of been anticipating hitch-hiking, and didn't want to lug a trunk around for that) from the saddle-horn before swinging himself up onto the saddle.
Harry discovered soon enough that riding a horse was actually less comfortable than riding a camel, and this could be put down entirely to how the two different animals were saddled. There were always different saddling options, but the option Harry had chosen for his camel had been a lot more like a seat than a saddle. It was also better padded.
After a few days of riding though, Harry got used to it well enough that he ultimately decided that wouldn't tell Tony that the camel had been a better ride. The genius billionaire probably wouldn't take it too well.
Harry had set up camp in the desert just a short way out of the nearest town, a place called Puente Antiguo that was so small it wasn't even on the map. He'd arrived too late to check in to the local hostel/motel/hotel/bead-and-breakfast, and it wasn't like they would have had anywhere for him to park his horse anyway. He'd been enjoying the view of the stars when, out of nowhere, a massive aurora, something that should not have been happening that far south, lit up the night sky.
Not only that, but barely twenty feet from his camp, a thing that look alarmingly like a twister touched down. Unlike a twister though, it didn't have any sucking force. Actually, it sent out a bit of a shock-wave.
"I am not dying for six college credits!" a female voice yelled out over the howl of the wind and the screech of a vehicle.
Harry had been a bit busy making sure that his horse didn't injure itself in its fear of the goings on (Sif was fine, she was hooded and asleep in his tent), but the yell had caught his attention. So did the brightly coloured flashing lights that came down through the twister, right before it calmed down.
"I think that was legally your fault!" yelled the same female voice from a moment before.
"Get the first-aid kit!" another female voice instructed.
Harry stroked his horse a couple more times, making sure the animal was calmed down, and then headed towards the van. It wasn't hard to spot, being covered as it was in lights.
Harry reached the van just as one guy turned his head up to the sky and started yelling.
"Father! Heimdell! I know you can hear me! Open the Bifrost!"
"Hospital," said one of the women. Harry recognised hers as the second female voice he'd heard. "You go, I'll stay."
"You there, what realm is this? Alfheim? Nornheim?"
"New Mexico," answered the owner of the first voice Harry had heard. A rather pretty young woman with lots of curly brown hair who was pointing a taser at the big blonde.
"You think to threaten the me, the mighty Thor with so puny a -"
"Welcome to Midgard," Harry said with a bright smile, even as the brunette fired her weapon and felled the big man. "Where we don't care how big you are, you're still going down, Prince Thor of Asgard."
"Who are you, and what the heck are you talking about?" demanded the brunette.
"Well, I'm Harry, and I couldn't help but hear this guy -" he absently kicked the comatose blonde that was no longer being electrocuted, "- yell out to Heimdell about the Bifrost. If you know your mythology, it's not hard to put together," Harry answered easily – and as per his favourite professor's recommendation at the Yule Ball, Harry now knew his mythology very, very well.
"Right... some kind of frat party went really wrong," the brunette decided.
"Darcy! The camera! We have to record these markings!" the other woman instructed. "And get him off them," she added with a gesture to the blonde man.
"Well, my curiosity is sated, and it's late. I'm going to bed," Harry declared, turned his back on the collective, and returned to his camp. As he headed back though, he saw something else fall out of the sky, a bright trail left behind it before it hit. Harry made a note of the direction and decided to check it out in the morning.