A/N: IMPORTANT I am using only Marvel movie universe and NOT THE COMICVERSE I have not read the comics. Loki is influenced by Norse Mythology and this fic WILL have mentions of AT LEAST a few of his children. He is the god of lies and mischief of course he's going to be in Slytherin please don't flame or question it and this might sound directed to a certain reviewer but it's honestly not I'm just trying to ward off any comments like that. They are also not perfectly in character but that is because my view of the characters and their relationships has been so analyzed and deduced by the tumblr universe that I'm not sure what's real and what's not. ALSO I have not seen HP:POA in a very long time and I read the book a really long time ago and do not have it at my disposal at this time so I apologize in advance for the mess up and the incorrect dialogue/chronologicality. I will also be twisting a few of the scenes on purpose but this IS a fanfiction. The DADA scene is purely based off the movies though. Thanks, read at your own risk.
NOT AS IMPORTANT: If I sound kind of grumpy it's mostly because I had written a large portion of this chapter and trusted my computer to not save but not delete either and what does it do? Deletes all of it and restarts without my permission. It might also be because I haven't slept in 28 hours (I think?) Plus the sleep I got before that was messed up completely considering I was in the car for 13 hours for it. Slept maybe half. I'm not a very happy camper right now. And I caught my stupid brother's sickness and can hardly talk or breath. Dang I'm being so whiney. Please let me know if there are any mistakes, I'm running on empty and I would appreciate constructive criticism and not straight up rude arrogant flames thank you.
All of the references to arts, pottery, hair, and that are all talking about Harry. Loki isn't very good with Midgardian names.
Disclaimer: Sorry about the long authors note I do not own Marvel or Harry Potter, please contact J.K. Rowling and Stan Lee for more information.
Chapter 3 - Defense Against Blundering Idiots
Loki's bag rubbed against his thighs as he rushed into his DADA class, following behind other third years that seemed to know where they were going much better than the new 'transfer student'. Loki had been at the school for almost four days and things were going slightly better than planned. So far he had been able to manage taking in some of the school's magical influence without being overwhelmed by the pure vastness of student's magical presences and found himself able to walk up and down the moving stairs without hurling the little bits of food he ingested. It was a feat he was quite proud of, having just broken out of a magic blocking cell. He hadn't expected to retain his magical control as easily as he did, but he didn't necessarily not have faith in himself. It was always Thor who had spoken highly of his sorcery but Loki had been reluctant to show it off. Loki had also, since gaining more magic essence, been able to ingest more than a small bite of roll at dinner. He now enjoyed full rolls and other small treats at dinner and fruits at breakfast. He rarely ate lunch and most often spent that time in the library reading up on Midgards magical history. It was quite interesting and he was honestly surprised the students seemed so unwilling to learn about it.
Upon entering the classroom, Loki noticed no chairs or desks and a large, dark cabinet placed in the front of the classroom. A young man with too much stress stood off to the side, with premature lines on his face, grey-speckled, light-brown hair, tattered clothes, and tired eyes. Loki, on the first day, had to pause a minute in the doorway when he felt the odd magical presence of the man. It was decidedly normal, he had concluded, until he notice it wasn't his magic, it was his blood. Loki could recognize that utterly powerful feeling anywhere. It was the feeling he got around his son, Fenrir. A wolfish feeling that you could almost smell if you didn't smell his fur first. The man, though, did not look like a wolf as Fenrir did and this made Loki suspicious. What connection could this man possibly have with wolves? he wondered.
"Hello, class, and welcome back to Defense Against the Dark Arts." Loki had immediately taken notice to the mans name on the first day of class. Remus Lupin. Remus, brother of Romulus, had fought for the control of Rome. The two brothers had been raised by wolves. Lupin, Latin for "wolf-like". Curious, definitely curious. Loki was quickly distracted once again when the man walked over to the cabinet. "In here, we have a Boggart. Can anyone tell me what a Boggart does?"
A few students raised their hands, most of them too lazy or unwilling to offer an answer. The boy Lupin picked was chubby and awkward, a common trait amongst thirteen-year-olds, who seemed incredibly nervous. For what Loki wasn't sure yet.
"A B-boggart sir takes the form of a p-person's greatest f-fears," his mouth fumbled out.
"Very good Mr. Longbottom," and the boy looked pleased at the praise. "A Boggart is a dark creature that commonly hides in small dark spaces, like this cabinet here. When released, it will choose the nearest person and turn into their greatest fears in an attempt to stun them. It is often used by the enemy as a tool of spite, escape, or attack. They can be very useful and very dangerous." Loki considered the option of taking the Boggart with him as a weapon. Wolf-Man surly made it sound useful against those Loki didn't particularly like (Thor. The Avengers. S.H.E.I.L.D. Basically everyone else to exist). "To defeat a Boggart you must turn him into something funny and banish your fears. This is done by the charm 'Riddikulus'. Come on, class, say it with me. Riddikulus!" Most of the students chanted the last word from him, and Loki heard towards the back Draco murmur something along the lines of this 'class is ridiculous'.
The Slytherins were an interesting bunch, Loki mused. He was very displeased to learn that many of them were bigoted, snobby, fools with too much of Mummy and Daddy's money. Being a Frost Giant, Loki understood what it felt like to be hated and looked down on for something you couldn't control. He could still remember Thor's hateful words and Odin's tales, all of the villagers speaking to their children, warning them to watch out for Frost Giants. He didn't consciously know he was a Jotun, but he sure did feel it. Their spiteful attitudes towards muggle-borns and half-bloods was truly disparaging and Loki would have to excuse himself whenever they spoke of such things. He knew if he stayed he would have dissolved into a fit of fury and rage and brought about Ragnarok right then.
Loki was incredibly pleased with their willingness and eagerness to defend themselves and their housemates. Being the house that is looked down on, they tended to form a very closed, cold, tight nit sort of family. It was odd and yet pleasant. They weren't nice to each other by any means, but if you insulted one, you insulted the whole. Besides, what family doesn't pick on their own? He remembered Thor and his friends in their younger, and admittedly their older, years when they would tease Loki to no end. He had loved his brother though. Of course, none of that mattered now, especially since Thor wasn't his brother. He was of Asgard and Loki was of Jotenheim. Thor was mad to even speak to him, to beg him to come home was madness. What had he been thinking? Such foolishness. To think...
No! This is fools thought! Loki dispelled the discomforting train of thought and listened to the Wolf-Man speak once again. They had apparently formed a line at some point, with Loki smack dab in the middle, right in front of the black-haired boy with the green eyes, glasses, and absolutely overpowering magical presence. Now that Loki could analyze it better, he found the presence to be somehow detached from the boy, almost as if he had two presences entirely. The larger, more powerful presence, seemed soaked in evil, something not too common in magical presences. Normally you only felt the magic, but this was different entirely. Loki would have to investigate this oddity when he had the time.
Right now, Wolf-Man was opening the cabinet and a dark, swooping material swung out and almost immediately turned into the fear of the boy standing in the front of the line. Longbottom or some such name. Frighteningly odd names they have here on this planet. Longbottom? Pottery? Mcgoogle? Dumb Door? No, it's Dumbledore, he told himself. He could never seem to get the name to stick in his head, or any name really. He was almost certain all of those were wrong. Oh well, he thought. Not like I'll need to know their names for long.
Professor Snape, a professor Loki actually liked, blinked, angry. He began walking towards Longbottom before the boy shouted "Riddikulus!" and the Professor was wearing unflatteringly woman-like clothes. Loki didn't necessarily understand the humor in such as he had never seen clothes like this before and didn't find pleasure in his head of house's humiliation. He glared at the foolish boy as he passed, causing him to shudder in fear. Loki relished that shudder, it was what he lived for, but he was incredibly disheartened when he smiled wide after seeing the boy who likes to make pots. He didn't need to turn around to see that the pottery boy was smiling a most likely sickly charming smile of encouragement. It disgusted Loki, but what was he to do about it?
Fear after fear came and went. Many turned into silly things that Loki couldn't find himself laughing at. He was completely lost on many of the jokes significance and was hopelessly confused when the giant spider was suddenly flailing on small wheels. Loki was positively disgusted when a large creature appeared, looking like his dear serpent child Jörmungandr, was humiliated in the same way many of the other creatures were.
When Loki found himself standing at the front of the line, he pulled out a small wooden stick he had conjured as a wand of sorts. He had not wanted to waste the money and time on getting a wooden stick to channel his magic when he was perfectly capable of doing so without one. The stick imitated a wand and Loki only had to make his magic visible, something they were taught to avoid on Asgard, and send it out from the illogical creation. A staff would have been a much more preferable option and Loki didn't see the need to form an attachment to such a fragile piece of wood when he could go and steal Gungnir from Odin or the Chitauri Scepter (which had given him so much power) from Thanos.
He raised the pointless stick and waited for the mess to take shape. What he saw stunned him so much, he almost dropped his stick and fled the room. Thanos stood there, blood splattered on his face and all down his body, a horrifying red painting. In his left hand he held the severed, bleeding head of Thor. His face was stuck forever in a terrified trance, his dead eyes wide open for the entire class to see. In his right hand he gripped the head of Frigga in a similar state. He stood, foot perched, on the broken, bloodied form of Loki in his Jotun skin who looked almost begging, pleading for something. Something Loki knew he wanted far too much. Red eyes flooded with pain, his bloody, shredded fingernails tore at Thanos' legs in a desperate attempt to get that something. It was one of the most horrifying scenes he had ever had the misfortune of seeing, and the other classmates seemed to think so too, if their screams and gasps of horror were anything to go on. Loki felt like throwing up and crawling into a whole and dying. Dying like he had wanted to before the Chitauri, before Thanos, before the scepter and the Tesseract, before, before, before. He heard, almost as a distant echo, a voice in his head whispering threateningly you will long for something as sweet as pain.
Loki swallowed, throat dry, before remembering where he was. He was surrounded by thirteen year old children who had probably never seen such a gruesome sight. He had never been one to give in to his fears, especially not illusions. It was silly to overreact so quickly. Loki, fast as flash, regained his bearings and shouted, voice strong, "Riddikulus!"
The image morphed into a circus scene, Thanos changed into a smiling clown that began juggling the plastic balls that were once heads. Loki laughed darkly in triumph and smirked his way to the back of the line. The others, stunned, watched as the clown changed into a dark creature. It was not all too unlike the being that had first burst out of the closet. The boy who didn't look hairy, but seemed to be in secret, stumbled away from the dark creature. He seemed to be stunned at Loki's Boggart and at his own and didn't react. The Wolf-Teacher stepping in though, the Boggart quickly changing into a full moon - a fairly strange fear to have - and he "Riddikulus"ed it into a balloon which blew out back into the closet. The class stayed silent in horror of everything that had happened so quickly when the Wolf-Man spoke up.
"Alright, I think that's enough for today. Class dismissed."
Loki was headed straight for bed when he was rudely interrupted. He relaxed slightly, though, when he realized it was his housemate Draco. The blonde boy was one of the snootiest and pettiest of the whole lot of Slytherins, but Loki greatly respected his power and his intelligence. You didn't see many smart and skilled people as often as you should and Loki found it refreshing in the snobby, spoiled prince of Slytherin. He also could identify with Draco's subconscious need for attention, something Loki had struggled with throughout his childhood. Being the child to powerful parents, and ones that didn't truly care about you at all, had a large impact on the way one progressed. Without the proper attention being supplied from the parents, a child is likely to search elsewhere for that special spark you could see in a person's eyes. A spark that said, "I'm interested in what you're saying and I want to hear more." A spark that could sooth you as quickly as it could break you. It was a devilish thing, to need such attention, and many found the desire quite pathetic. Loki had to agree when he thought about himself, but easily said 'nay' when it came to Malfoy. His desire to be so basically and wholly Slytherin obviously stemmed from a deep seeded desire to make his parents, who were dark wizards, proud. Though Slytherin is not in and of itself a dark or evil house, at the present time they were filled with raving pure-bloods that felt thy deserved better than others. What else is Draco to do then adapt that same mentality?
Loki would admit he pitied Malfoy if not for the knowledge that he identified with him so much. Loki is not a self-pitying man by any means and if you pity those like you, there is hardly a difference. Loki could relate to Draco, could sense his desires as easily as he could his own. It was so plain in everything he did, he wondered how no one had mentioned such behavior before. Loki dismissed the thoughts when Draco began talking.
"What the bloody hell was that?" Loki wasn't too keen on answering, but knew he would be pestered into oblivion should he not.
"That was someone I knew. From Scandinavia. He doesn't truly look like that, but that's how I always imagine him. He was holding the heads of my adoptive brother and mother. It's a long story and one I do not wish to delve into. Please leave me in peace. I must retire to bed as it is late." Loki shrugged off Malfoy's almost insulted look with slight distaste. He was pleasantly surprised, though, when he showed such concern for Loki's health.
"Loki, it's supper. You shouldn't miss it. I know you don't eat much and it shows, you're always tired or dizzy. If it continues I'll suspect you have an eating disorder." If he had not said it with such concern, Loki would have thought it to be a joke. "You don't look healthy. Please come to dinner and you can rest afterwards." Loki consented, nodding and following Draco into the Great Hall. They sat and ate for at least twenty minutes and Loki was growing tired when his ears perked at a certain word Pansy, daughter of Parkin, was saying.
"Don't forget about the trip to Hogsmead is tomorrow. Do you guys have your permission slips signed?" The question seemed almost redundant as all of the surrounding children nodded eagerly. Loki nodded as well, knowing he was about to sign his own in Frigga's handwriting when he got back to the dungeons that night.
Loki could feel the searing green gaze of the boy who liked arts and crafts and looked up from his pudding to stare back. He couldn't help but notice how rude this boy was, always staring at Loki in that weird way, like he was trying to figure something out. There was a lot to figure out about Loki, but not anything Harry was going to learn by staring at him. When the potter saw Loki's fierce glare he looked away, face turning red in humiliation at being caught staring. Loki was absently listening to some of the tales this fellow Slytherins were telling him about their previous trips to Hogsmead. They were interesting enough, but Loki was distracted.
Distracted by what? Well if you ask Loki, it surely isn't the image of his Boggart from Defense class. That wasn't even close to the issue. No sirree. When the conversation died down, Loki got up and left the table, heading off to bed so he could enjoy his stay at Hogsmead the next day.
Director Fury was not considered a stupid man. He wasn't commonly crossed and he didn't enjoy people acting like punks. Unfortunately, he had to deal with these issues almost daily. With Stark on the loose with that armour of his, Banner off in who knows where, Clint hiding up in the rafters, though that wasn't too uncommon, Natasha in Scandinavia, Rodgers trying to assimilate into modern society, and Thor completely A.W.O.L., he luckily was free of duties for at least a few hours. He somehow, someway, subconsciously just knew it wouldn't last long, though. And he was proved so completely right that it was almost frightening.
"Stanley, keep the radars o-" Fury had been directing when he was rudely interrupted. Out of nowhere, A large and very blonde man crashed through the helicariers ceiling. It was, luckily, in the water at the time so the destruction of property didn't cause them to lose all breathable air due to air pressure.
"SWEET BABY JESUS, Thor! What in God's name do you think you're doing? That's at least a few hundred dollars right there! We're going to have to repair that before we can go airborne again. What is so important you could not knock on my mother effin door!?" Fury was, understandably, pissed. He called in a few repair man to get right on the break in the ceiling before going back to the agitated, and seemingly impatient Thor.
"Fury! There has been a great battle waged on Asgard. My brother was freed, unknowingly, from Prison. I fear he may be headed back to Midgard. I've come to warn you and your forces. I must return to Asgard immediately. Farewell, my friend." Thor still spoke with his exuberant tone, even in desperation.
"Thor! Wait!" Fury had tried to call after him but Thor was already spinning his mighty Mjolnir before throwing it up and creating another break in the Helicariers ceiling.
Fury found himself sighing in exasperation and placing his head in a hand. Agent Hill walked over to the fallen debris and shot Fury a confused look. He shook his head and walked away, already calling out to Staley, "Set our radars to search for spikes of Loki magic." He was too tired to be scientific.
A/N: Please excuse the random psychoanalysis or whatever of Draco? I have no idea where that came from. R/R thanks!