Notes: This is probably a good time to mention two things: first, despite the rule that you should never mention a supervillain in the first chapter unless you intend to arrest him in the last (Chekhov's Supervillain) there will not be a supervillainous crisis in this story unless I completely lose control of the plot. (And hey, I think I've cited Dr. Doom in every second installment of this series and he hasn't shown up yet.) Also, Tony doesn't want to offend anyone (quite the opposite) but if he (and I) end up doing so, we apologize in advance.

Also, I've found a model for Tony's Scottish house, although to call it a "hunting lodge" is a bit much. Just Google "Arisaig House."

Warnings: Still none. Except for eventual fruitcake. And some teasing, if you find teasing triggery. Sorry about that.

Chapter Two

Loki sat in the corner of the train compartment, a large black-and-white cat purring on his lap, eating an apple and reading his new copy of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5. Mitchell, meanwhile, practiced levitation charms and peered out the door to flag down any of their friends who passed by in the corridor. Loki preferred to sit by the window, both so that he could look out at the passing countryside and also so he would be less easily spotted by passing Gryffindors or Slytherins.

Loki got on with his Gryffindor brother, but some of Thor's housemates- not, obviously, Mitchell- seemed to think there was disgrace in the Sorting Hat's choice to put Loki in any House but theirs. They were not intentionally cruel in their observations, but their tendency to commiserate over his fate had, on occasion, provoked Loki to improper use of Stunning spells in the corridors, and with his brother now Head Boy and two of his closest friends prefects, Loki knew any misbehavior by himself would reflect badly on them.

The Slytherins took his House even more personally than did the Gryffindors- Loki was, in some convoluted way, related by blood to the late Professor Snape (if only on the Muggle side), and the ignominy of his assignment to Hufflepuff grated upon them. Loki could not conceivably have cared less what (most of) the Slytherins thought of him, but he had better sense than to enter into open conflict with that House, and so he tried to avoid them.

All of which Loki forgot about when the compartment door opened and Annie and George came in. They were already in robes and wearing their new badges marking them as prefects in Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. Loki put his book away as Annie dropped to the seat beside him, and George crawled over Mitchell to sit across from Loki.

"All briefed on your duties?" Mitchell asked brightly, offering George a Chocolate Frog.

"Yes, for now," George replied, as he unwrapped the candy. "We've got to start organizing the first-years in a few minutes."

"You should both put your robes on," Annie added, accepting the pumpkin pasty Loki had saved for her. "We're nearly there. Loki? Loki. We're nearly there.

"Wake up, Loki, we're nearly there."

Loki opened his eyes and found himself, again, in a train carriage- not on the Hogwarts Express, but a regular standard-class coach. His head was bumping into the window, padded by the rolled-up coat he was using as a pillow.

"Hmm?" he asked, head still woolly from his peculiarly vivid dreams.

Annie smiled at him. "The next stop is Thurso, the end of the line. Come on, we'll be getting off in a few minutes."

Loki stretched and looked around. Mitchell was waking George, who appeared even more muddled with sleep than Loki suspected he did himself.

The friends had managed to find a set of four seats facing each other, which was only uncomfortable when they tried to sleep and kicked each other's tangled feet. Sleeping compartments would have been more comfortable, but with five changes of train over the course of the nearly twenty-four hour journey it would have been impractical, to say nothing of the expense.

Elizabeth, sitting on the seat back above his head, squeaked in protest when Loki reached up and took hold of her. None of the other passengers paid any attention to her, or to Philip: the glamour Loki had placed on their pets (and the litter box and food dishes) had held even while he slept. In the wake of his dream, Loki felt rather smug about that: surely this was magic well beyond the Ordinary Wizarding Levels.

A few minutes later the train was grinding and squealing to a halt. Loki and his friends gathered their belongings (including the remains of a packed lunch, and a glamoured cat basket that now emitted sad mews), packed up everything, and joined the line of disembarking passengers. Scamp- also under a glamour- followed closely. It could not hurt her to be stepped on, but she did not like it, so she tucked herself between Annie and Loki and looked suspiciously at all the other passing feet.

When they climbed down from the train, however, Scamp jumped off ahead and went skipping across the platform before them. Her two-legged companions followed and, as they walked away from the train, Loki released the glamour on her. A moment later, Tony Stark emerged from the station and waved to them.

"Hey," he greeted Mitchell, who was in the lead, "good to see you. Hi there," he addressed Scamp, who wagged her tail and wiggled at him. "Have you got everything, or do you need to wait for- Jesus Christ, Annie!"

"What?" Annie exclaimed, startled. Tony was looking at her with wide eyes, and Annie gave him a cheeky smile. "You look as if you've seen a ghost!"

Tony took a breath and began to look sheepish. "I'm sorry, Annie, Thor told us you were visible these days, but it's just... startling."

"I was pretty surprised myself," Annie admitted.

"Can I carry something for you?" Tony asked, taking refuge in commonplace courtesies. Annie smiled and handed him the cat basket just as Loki pulled the glamour from it. Tony let out another startled noise when a small paw reached through the mesh door to poke at him, and then shook his head. "I really need to stop doing that. Hi, guys," he addressed the kittens, who immediately began a litany of the many wrongs done to them.

"They are not normally so noisy," Loki said quickly. "It is only that they are not fond of this mode of transport."

"Can't say I blame them," Tony shrugged. "Okay, car's this way. Everyone else is here already, we pretty much all travelled together, except Thor came from New Mexico with Jane. You guys must be hungry and tired, are you? You know I'd have sent the plane for you."

"We know, and it's a kind thought," George replied with a smile. "But the train was actually pretty good fun, all of us together." Loki joined in the general nods: cramped and stiff though they were by the end, it had still been enjoyable, to go on the journey together.

And besides, Tony was always extremely generous to them, as well as to his other friends, and they were loath to take further advantage of his kindness. They were certainly under no illusions their host would permit them to contribute much to the cost of food or drink for the celebrations, and so arranging their own travel seemed the least they could do. Besides, it must be admitted that Annie, who was still getting used to being visible to humans, had greatly enjoyed handing over her ticket and choosing a seat like any live person.

"Did you check any luggage?" Tony asked, looking curiously at the single rather small bag Loki carried.

"No," Loki said with a smile.

"How about you?" Tony asked George, who was struggling with a large package wrapped in brown paper. It was a little too large for his arms to accommodate. "Need a hand with that?"

"No, thanks," George replied. "It's more awkward than heavy." Loki raised his eyebrows, and George conceded, "Well, all right, it's actually pretty heavy, too, but Mitchell can help me." He cast a glare at the empty-handed Mitchell, who smirked at him.

"What is it?" Tony asked curiously.

"Secrets," George replied briefly. Tony waggled his eyebrows, and George said firmly, "I'm not telling you whose name JARVIS gave me. You can find out on Christmas morning when... the person... opens it."

"Fair enough," Tony agreed amiably, and then they were at his Range Rover. Tony opened the tailgate so that George could stow his parcel and Loki the bag. He still looked concerned that this was all the luggage they had- except for the cat basket, which Loki took, and held on his lap in the back seat. Annie sat between Loki and George, and was Mitchell in the front with Scamp at his feet.

The matter of presents had involved a certain amount of negotiation, which had taken place- as so many of their conversations seemed to these days- over Skype. Everyone agreed to the idea of drawing names, to determine one person to whom they would give a gift and so ensure that everyone received something. Steve had been adamant on the matter of limits to spending on that gift.

"Look, I know some of us are probably going to want to give gifts to people aside from the one whose name we draw, and that's fine, but it only seems fair to put a limit on the amount for this one."

"Is this to keep me from showing off?" Tony had asked, nearly offhandedly.

"No!" Steve protested, obviously aware the offhandedness was not entirely sincere.

"Maybe," said Natasha, whose honesty could be ruthless.

"I don't think Tony should have to give anybody a present," Coulson spoke up.

"I agree," Loki said at once. "He is hosting us, after all, and has planned everything- surely that is enough of a contribution to the festivities?"

"Seems fair to me," agreed Lt. Col. Rhodes.

Tony's expression had been priceless. "Wait, no, but- " he spluttered, looking horrified. "But I want to- "

"I think we should vote," Bruce announced. "We can use the text function. All in favour of letting Tony off giving a gift, type aye. You'll still get one," he added, as though that was what was bothering Tony.

"But that's not- " Tony began, and was ignored.

"Motion carried," Coulson announced after a moment. Tony opened his mouth, closed it helplessly- and from the New Mexico link, Thor and Jane both lost their composure, closely followed by Clint. Loki found himself so glad the joke was over that he was nearly unable to laugh, although on the sofa beside him (unseen by Tony) Mitchell was bent nearly double, hiccupping gently to himself.

Tony looked stunned for a moment, slowly realized what had just happened, and then called them all a number of extremely profane names. Loki would have expected Tony to have a greater variety at his disposal, but what he lacked in creativity he made up in persistence and fervor.

The joke over, the group then negotiated an absolute maximum per-gift cost (including applicable taxes, wrapping, and any shipping for online purchases) of fifty American dollars, which Coulson announced was- according to that day's exchange rates- equivalent to a little over thirty British pounds. Each of them was to log into a specially-created Web site on the Stark Industries server, to identify themselves and receive (from JARVIS) the name of the recipient for whom they would provide a gift.

They also agreed that Mrs. Coulson was to be included in the activity, although Coulson warned that this might result in someone receiving knitted items as their gift. No one seemed bothered by the possibility- Loki, with visions of Mrs. Weasley in mind, wondered whether this might encompass a jumper with one's first initial knitted into it.

He had spent the rest of the evening, after the call, entertaining his household by casting illusions of each member of the holiday party so garbed. The colours had increased in vibrancy until they reached a sort of crescendo in which Tony appeared to them in a jumper, hat, and mittens that exactly depicted the top half of his Iron Man suit. At that point Loki was laughing too hard to control his spells, and the game had ended.

They had all visited the lodge before, the previous summer. Annie, George, and Mitchell had in fact come by train and had been driven there, following this exact route. They had at the time been too worried to pay much attention to the scenery. Loki, for his part, had arrived with Tony and Thor, still rather bewildered after a protracted and extremely unpleasant stint in the custody of beings intent on using him to distract the Avengers, and so remembered very little of the stay, or of the brief return visit paid a few days later.

On this, the first day of winter, it was dark by teatime, and so there was little to see as they drove. They were compensated for this by their first sight of their destination. Tony's Scottish house was an old stone hunting lodge, a sprawling three-storey edifice with gables and many-paned windows that had, at the moment, light spilling out of most of them, casting a warm glow across the snow as Tony drove toward the house.

"We'll do some decorating tomorrow," Tony promised. "Along with starting the cooking, so you can pick whatever jobs you want, and maybe swap them out partway through the day." Tony shook his head. "Steve tells me that doing everything yourself is most of the fun. Apparently, people were crazy in the Forties."

"It was pleasurable to cook dinner together at Thanksgiving," Loki said, remembering the visit he and Annie had paid to the Avengers for that holiday some weeks before. "It was never the custom in Asgard, for the royal family to assist in decorating the palace for the Yule celebrations- " Loki had a sudden mental picture of his mother the queen, knitting gifts like Mrs. Weasley, and nearly burst out laughing- "but it might have been nice if it had been so."

"Yeah, well, Steve's also very big on the satisfaction of doing things yourself. I'm more into the satisfaction of building a robot that can do the things for me- which I guess is almost like doing them myself- but hey, if it makes him happy I'll go along with it. George, about Hanukkah. Are there observances that are... okay for us to do, too?" Tony looked suddenly uncertain, the way he did when he suddenly realized he might have overstepped himself and possibly offended someone he had no desire to hurt. "I mean," he fumbled on, "that wouldn't be, you know, disrespectful or- " Tony glanced sideways at Mitchell.

"Dangerous?" Mitchell asked tolerantly.

George patted Mitchell's shoulder and replied, "I've been thinking about that, actually. I think we had better skip the ceremonial candles, because those really do have religious significance, and there's no telling whether they'd affect Mitchell in spite of the fact he can handle my pendant. But I'm pretty sure the traditional foods fried in oil would be all right, and the dreidel game, if we wanted to play that."

"Wait, wait, foods fried in oil?" Tony asked. "I knew about latkes, but there are others?"

"The point is the oil," George explained. "Hanukkah commemorates the miracle of the oil that gave light for eight nights when it should only have lasted one. Cooking food in oil celebrates that."

"I have the feeling Clint is going to consider this the best holiday ever," Tony remarked, apparently forgetting his earlier efforts to be respectful. "Do you mean to say we could celebrate Hanukkah with fried chicken and French fries if we wanted to?"

"I suppose so, if there's such a thing as kosher fried chicken," George said, not sounding quite sure of his answer. "Not that my family was ever all that conscientious about keeping kosher, come to think of it." George thought about it. "Actually, there's a special kind of doughnut that's pretty traditional, too."

"Awesome," Tony murmured. "It's the perfect Coulson holiday, too."

"Anyway, I brought a dreidel. And a bag of almonds to use for wagers," George said. "And my mother's recipe for latkes, if you think everyone would want some."

"Dying to try them," Tony assured him. "Absolutely."

They climbed out of the car. Mitchell took the cat-basket, Loki their one bag and George the paper-wrapped box, and they made their way up the steps to the big front door.