Notes: In which something completely unprecedented (in Loki's experience) happens.

Any of you who have read My Friend Flicka may have noticed similarities between the main character, Kennie, and all versions of Housemates!Loki. It wasn't deliberate, but the moment in this chapter that echoes Kennie's revelation that Flicka isn't loco, is.

Warnings: For another of my Infamous Talking Chapters (So. Much. Talking!) and also my own theorizing and headcanon about houses and history. Sorry, gang- it's my party, and all that.

Also, I'm sorry I haven't been consistently warning for potentially triggery content up to this point. I don't think there's anything obvious here.

Chapter Ten

The next day was Friday, and the first-year Hufflepuffs didn't have any classes except for their flying lesson before lunch. Loki didn't go to breakfast- Mitchell and George offered to wait for him in the common room, but Loki told them to go ahead and he would catch up later.

He waited until everyone else had gone to breakfast and the common room and dormitories were quiet. Then he got up and dressed. Instead of looking for his housemates, he went to the library, to hide at one of the little study desks in a corner, hidden away behind the tall book cases.

He put his head down on his folded arms and closed his eyes.

He didn't know how long he spent that way, drifting halfway between wakefulness and sleep. After a while he roused himself enough to look for a book about Transfiguration- he had liked Transfiguration a lot, when the year started, even though it was hard- and read for a while.

It was only when he heard the bell ringing for lunch that he realized he had missed his flying lesson, one of the few things he still looked forward to at school. Feeling kind of sick, and quite a bit like he wanted to cry again (spoiled little crybaby), Loki trailed back to the dormitory. He put his pajamas back on, got his rhinoceros out of the wardrobe- he knew it was stupid and babyish for him to want it, but he didn't care- and crawled back into bed. He felt like he never wanted to get out of bed, ever again.

It seemed like a long time later when the door of the dormitory creaked open. Loki closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep. He didn't want to talk to anyone, not even Mitchell or George, and he was pretty sure they didn't really want to talk to him either.

"Hey." The voice didn't belong to either of his friends. "Loki?"

Rogers never called him "Loki." The older and younger students mostly called each other by their surnames, except for Becky because she was Annie's sister and he thought he was probably still Annie's friend, at least for now.

Loki tried to pretend he was asleep, but Rogers put a hand on his shoulder.

"Loki, wake up," he said quietly. There was no way he could keep pretending, so Loki opened his eyes. The prefect was sitting on Mitchell's bed, leaning forward to look at Loki. "Hey. Your friends tell me you didn't come to any meals today."

"I wasn't hungry," Loki muttered.

"Not feeling well?" Rogers said sympathetically. "I also understand you had a pretty bad dream last night." Loki didn't answer. Rogers patted him. "Okay, I'm sorry to make you get up if you're feeling sick, but Professor Sprout wants to see you."

Loki sat straight up, not even caring if Rogers noticed he was sleeping with a floppy rhinoceros, his breath catching in his throat. "Professor Sprout?" he squeaked.

She knows, she's found out, I'm going to be expelled, I'm going to be kicked out of Hufflepuff-

Rogers smiled. "Yes. She asked me to find you and bring you down to Greenhouse One. She'd like to talk to you. Get dressed and I'll meet you in the common room in ten minutes."

~oOo~

It was later than Loki had realized. The shadows were getting long as he walked across the lawn with Rogers. The nocturnal owls were starting to emerge from the owlery, gliding and swooping across the sky above them. Ahead of them, Greenhouse One glowed like a half-covered lamp.

Loki hung back as Rogers opened the door and stuck his head inside.

"Professor Sprout? We're here."

"Oh, good. Come in, please, Mr. Odinson," came the voice of their head of house. Loki edged through the door. Professor Sprout was standing at a work table, surrounded by bags of earth, piles of fertilizer, empty clay pots, and a whole lot of small, ferny-looking plants in smaller pots that seemed to wrap their fronds around her fingers as she worked with them.

Loki stood just beside the door, hands clasped in front of him, worrying against each other. Rogers patted him on the shoulder, excused himself, and slipped out the door. Professor Sprout smiled.

"Please come and sit down," she said, in a firm, kind voice. "Right over there, where the tray is. I thought you might be hungry."

Loki looked at the covered tray, with the goblet and pitcher next to it, and his throat closed. He was hungry all right, but he was so nervous about what was going to happen next that he was sure he'd be sick if he tried to eat or drink. Professor Sprout was looking at him, so he went over to the stool where the tray was, and sat down. He didn't touch anything.

"If you don't mind, I'll carry on with this repotting while we talk," she went on, glancing at him and then looking back down at her work. "I've been speaking to your friends." Loki looked up, dismayed, and Professor Sprout went on, "They're worried about you, Mr. Odinson, and to tell you the truth I am too."

"I'm sorry- " Loki began instinctively, clenching his hands together in his lap.

Professor Sprout looked up. "There's no need to apologize. But I would like us to talk a little, because I'm worried that something is bothering you. Is there something bothering you?"

"… No," Loki squeaked, lowering his eyes. Professor Sprout just kept talking:

"Because, you see, when a student's behaviour changes as much as yours has in the past few weeks, there's usually cause for concern. We've gotten to know you as a cheerful boy who is keen on his lessons and gets along well with the other students. And now you appear to have lost interest in most of your classes, you don't go around with the other students as much as you used to, and… you seem sad and worried." There was a period of silence, while Professor Sprout lifted yet another small, fluffy, clinging plant from a little pot and carefully settled it into a larger one.

Then she went on, "I know there was an unfortunate incident with your brother a few weeks ago. At the time I thought it was an isolated occurrence, and so I didn't follow up with you after your brother was punished. Your friend Miss Sawyer now tells me there was a second incident a few days later. Is that true?"

He couldn't just refuse to answer, so he muttered, "I guess."

"Can you tell me what happened?"

And that was just too complicated, but he had to say something, and he was too tired and felt too sick to make anything up. Before he realized what he was doing, Loki heard his own voice saying,

"Thor doesn't like me."

And that was dumb, stupid. Loki waited for Professor Sprout to explain that of course Thor loved him, really, and the way Thor treated him didn't really mean anything, that he was selfish and bad (crybaby) to make a fuss about it.

"He doesn't?" Professor Sprout asked. And something about… she believed him, she didn't just tell him he was wrong… something about that made Loki go on.

"Nobody likes me anymore," he whispered. Professor Sprout looked at him, as if she'd be sorry if that turned out to be true, but she didn't say anything, and finally Loki started to explain: "I got really angry at him, at Thor, he said… he said he didn't need to be rescued by Hufflepuffs, and I only… I just didn't want him to get in trouble with Stark, when Clint's brother said… when he called Peggy Carter… so I told Stark what Clint's brother said and that was why Thor was fighting him, and Thor didn't get in trouble but he got really... because I'm in Hufflepuff and… and he didn't want…"

"That was unkind of him," Professor Sprout said, apparently talking to the little plant that was petting her fingers with its fluffy leaves. Loki wanted to reach over and touch the plant so it would pet him, too, but he kept his hands in his lap. Professor Sprout added, "If someone had said that to me, especially someone whose good opinion mattered to me, I would have felt hurt and very angry." Pause. She looked up. "Did you feel hurt and angry?" Loki nodded. "Is that why you think that no one else likes you now?"

"I got… I was so angry," Loki explained, whispering again. "He was… he was mean about us, about Hufflepuffs, and I… I was angry and I started, I made up these stories, I told myself I was going to… going to do things to hurt him, make people laugh at him, and… and that's why no one likes me now."

"Because you got angry at your brother?"

"Because I was… I wanted to…" Loki couldn't help it, he reached out and trailed a fingertip along one of the leaves of the tiny plant closest to him. The green frond wrapped delicately around his finger, hugging it, then gently let go.

"Can you tell me about your dream, last night? Mr. Sands and Mr. Mitchell said it sounded quite frightening."

"I dreamed… I was… they put me in Azkaban, because I…" He could feel tears starting up in his eyes. "Hufflepuff is a good house, for good people, and Azkaban is- and I, I wanted to hurt Thor so- so they put me in- "

By now he was crying again (crybaby) and Professor Sprout came around the table and sat down on the stool next to his. She patted his shoulder with her dirty hand, then offered him a surprisingly clean white handkerchief, as big as Dad's.

"Those things you wanted to do to your brother- is that why you were trying to levitate the bottle, and asking about harmful potions?" They had told her everything. Loki wiped his eyes and nodded. "Ah. That's what worried your friends, you see. They thought you were spending too much time thinking about being angry, and about hurting your brother. They didn't think it was good for you. And then you had a terrible dream and it really scared them, and Miss Sawyer's sister brought them to speak to me."

Loki wiped his nose and reached out toward the plant again, petting its leaves. In the softest whisper yet, he said, "I don't… I don't want to be Dark."

Professor Sprout patted him on the shoulder again. "Well, then, don't be." Loki blinked, and the professor said matter-of-factly, "Whether you become Dark or not will be a matter of your own choices and actions. And, so far, I don't see any sign of it."

"No?" Loki squeaked- he wanted to believe her so much that he just couldn't.

"No. Oh, you're angry at your brother, and it sounds as if you have good reason to be. But so far you really haven't done anything except make yourself unhappy, have you?"

"I made my friends not like me," Loki reminded her. And then- he couldn't stop himself- he added: "Thor is mean to me and everyone likes him."

Professor Sprout looked thoughtful. "Your friends went to Miss Sawyer's sister because they were worried about you, and they talked to me for the same reason. They didn't know how to make you feel better, but they wanted someone to help you. They wouldn't have been so concerned if they didn't like you."

Loki thought about that, petting the little green plant as he did. Then he said, "But I was so angry- "

"Goodness, Mr. Odinson, being angry doesn't make you a Dark sorcerer," Professor Sprout said firmly. "And neither does imagining doing something to a person who hurt you. I agree that if you spend too much time brooding about revenge, it's bound to do you harm eventually, but simply being angry and thinking a little- why, that's perfectly normal. Everyone does it."

"You don't," Loki argued. "You're the head of- you're good."

"I do my best," said Professor Sprout. "But even so, there have been times… I remember, oh, it must be sixteen years ago, there was a new professor hired to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. I don't remember whether he was the only applicant, or if influence was brought to bear in his hiring, but he was terrible. Completely incompetent, tiresomely pleased with himself, and far too fond of telling the other professors how to teach their classes. He drove me mad. I used to imagine putting a mimbulus mimbletonia at his place at dinner, a good mature one full of Stinksap, with a little note on it saying Poke Me." She laughed. "I never did it, of course."

Sobering, Professor Sprout went on, "Imagining a trick like that was harmless. It would have been different if I had done it, especially in front of the students, or if I had brooded on how much I disliked him until I couldn't enjoy my work, or my friends, or have a peaceful sleep at night. And that is what concerns your friends and me about what you're doing right now: you're not hurting anyone but yourself, but we don't want you to do that, either.

"I suppose it's possible that if you think about revenge for long enough, you'll actually do it, and I don't think you need me to tell you that hurting people because you're angry really is wrong, and really is the sort of thing a Dark sorcerer would do. But you haven't."

Loki shrank. "I have," he whispered, looking down at his hands. Professor Sprout waited, and he explained about the day last summer, when he followed Thor and got dragged out of the bushes and threw all those rocks at them with his magic. "I did that, so I must be- "

"On purpose?" asked Professor Sprout.

"What?"

"Did you do it on purpose? Did you think, I want to throw rocks at everyone, and then do it?"

"Well, no, but- "

"And you were all by yourself?"

"Yes?"

"It must have been a very frightening situation, being alone with a group of older, bigger children who were angry at you, and then being grabbed by the throat. It's not at all uncommon for untrained wizards, especially very young ones, to do something drastic when they're as frightened as that. We call that self-defense, Mr. Odinson. It's perfectly justifiable, it sounds as if it was involuntary anyway, and I suspect it's why your brother never told on you: he probably knew he was in the wrong for frightening you like that, instead of just telling you to go home and waiting for you to leave. He might even have felt ashamed of himself for losing his temper so badly.

"No, I don't see any evidence that you're going to turn into a Dark wizard. I don't think you need to worry about that at all."

"But- " He didn't want to say it. He wanted to just believe her, but- "But... are there people who just...Who can't help it? Are born bad? Like... like Voldemort was..."

Professor Sprout raised her eyebrows. "Oh, Mr. Odinson, Voldemort was a very unusual case. He chose to do terrible things, but he also... lacked the ability to perceive or imagine others as real. That was one of the reasons he was able to hurt so many people. Individuals like that are very rare in either the wizard or Muggle worlds. Most of us, even though we have times when we're sad or angry, still feel affection, and concern for other people's feelings, and we do our best not to hurt them and feel genuinely sorry when we do. Does that sound familiar?"

Loki chewed his lower lip, hope beginning to bubble up in his chest. "Yes?"

"All right- that means you're quite normal. I'm sure you've made mistakes, and I'm sure you'll make more, just like I do, and your friends, and all the other teachers and prefects and your parents do. But you'll also do your best to correct them, and not make the same ones again, and make amends if you do hurt someone. Correct?"

"Yes," Loki replied, with more confidence this time.

"Good. And that means you were not born bad, nor are you likely to become that way. It just means you have to work at being a good person, like all the rest of us do. Now, I really think you should eat something." Professor Sprout lifted the cover off the tray. "I hope you like chicken sandwiches."

Loki poured himself a goblet of pumpkin juice from the pitcher, and drank until his throat no longer felt sticky. Then he took half a sandwich from the plate on the tray and bit into it. He thought he hadn't tasted anything quite so good since the Welcoming Feast his first night at Hogwarts.

Still, he had to ask:

"Professor Sprout? What is my detention going to be?"

She looked surprised. "Detention? Mr. Odinson, I thought we had established that you haven't done anything wrong. Why would I give you detention? Although- after you've eaten your sandwiches, perhaps you'd help me with these plants while we talk a little more."

Professor Sprout patted him again, shifted the nearest fluffy plant a little closer so it was easy to reach, and went around the table to go back to her work. Loki ate and drank, and then began to follow her example to carefully move the friendly little plants from the small pots into the bigger ones.

"Now," she said, "since we've dealt with the question of whether you were somehow destined to be evil- " she smiled at him, as if it was a joke between them, the idea that Loki could possibly be evil- "we should also talk about your brother."

"My dad says he loves me, really, but I don't know if that's true," Loki blurted.

"I'm afraid I don't, either," Professor Sprout admitted. "And it's also quite likely he doesn't. And since we can't know or control what he feels, we need to concentrate for the moment on his actions." She looked carefully at Loki and added, "I've known a great many brothers and sisters who disliked each other very much when they were young, and a lot of them became much better friends as they got older. Not all of them, but a lot.

"Now, I confess I don't know your brother very well outside of classes, but until this year he hasn't had a reputation for bullying younger students or members of other houses. That doesn't mean this is your fault, you understand," she added firmly, "it just means the problem is something other than simply Thor enjoys being unkind to smaller children. Which means the problem is more complicated, but also suggests that it can eventually be solved.

"However- it isn't your job to solve it. I know Professor Coulson has written to your parents, although I admit I haven't yet asked him for details of those letters. I will speak to him, and we'll see how we can help your brother to see this behaviour toward you is harmful and wrong. I think it's best if any interactions between you are supervised by teachers for the time being, so I'm asking you to stay away from him as well as you can for now, and I know Professor Coulson will agree. I'll also speak to the Hufflepuff prefects about keeping an eye on you both, and ask Professor Coulson to have a word with the Gryffindors- although really, I believe Rogers, Sawyer, and Potts, at least, have already agreed to something like this between themselves. We're fortunate in our prefects at the moment, I must say."

"Stark is really nice, too," Loki spoke up. "He helped me on the train, when I forgot what to do with my trunk. I was surprised- " Loki broke off in confusion and went back to concentrating on the plant and pot before him.

Professor Sprout looked at him. "Surprised that a Slytherin prefect would be kind?" Loki nodded, his face hot. The professor sighed. "May I ask where that idea came from?"

Loki wriggled. "My brother... he doesn't like Slytherin."

"Well, no, I suppose he doesn't at that. Many Slytherins don't much care for Gryffindor, either. The two houses have been rivals for over a thousand years, after all, and while the House Cup is good for internal house unity, it certainly does lead to unfortunate divisions within the school. It's really best not to take such talk too seriously."

"But... the wars. Voldemort was- "

"- in Slytherin, yes. So was Professor Fury, and you know how he feels about the Dark Arts." Professor Sprout looked very seriously at the little plant in her hands, which seemed to be concerned for her state of mind and petted her fingers consolingly. "What you must remember, Mr. Odinson, is that the cardinal traits of each house aren't all there is to the house, or its members. And you must also keep in mind that even those fundamental traits can be a good or a bad thing, depending on the circumstances and the state of the world. And the people themselves.

"Slytherin has produced some of the greatest and most adept Ministers for Magic our world has ever seen, and wherever you see a complicated undertaking being brought to a successful conclusion, you are likely to find a former Slytherin in charge. That's because Slytherin really does attract those who like politics, getting things done, being in charge. None of those traits are in themselves bad, and combined with strong principles and a kind heart, they can lead to tremendous good. I must say, I will be following Mr. Stark's progress, when he leaves school, with a great deal of interest.

"However, Voldemort also sought power, and spoke of wizards' superiority to Muggles and other magical races. Slytherins are not the only witches and wizards who believe in that last point, incidentally, but the business of power combined with it meant that his message was especially attractive to a particular kind of Slytherin. And, unfortunately, that not only meant former Slytherins were over-represented among his followers, it also meant those followers raised their children with the same kind of poisonous beliefs, which... I have never seen so many unpleasant students in Slytherin as I did in those days. Two generations, all but ruined. The actions of those people greatly damaged the reputation of the house, and Slytherins like Professor Fury and Professor Slughorn are working hard to repair it to this day.

"Now, since the wars ended there has been a... revulsion, a turning away from Voldemort's beliefs. Most of his devoted followers are in prison or dead, and those who might remain at large are no longer so confident in speaking up about their anti-Muggle prejudices and the like. The first time Voldemort disappeared, his followers hoped he would return, and many continued to teach his beliefs to their children on the sly. Now, he's dead. He's gone, and his beliefs are badly out of favour.

"That means the kind of Slytherin who fell for his pernicious claptrap is keeping quiet- and perhaps some of them have even learned wisdom. And that means the house is now being given back to the kind of people who have... more positive attitudes toward the world. In many cases, they see power and influence as a way of ensuring that good gets done. Do you see what I mean?"

"Stark says he wants to be Minister for Magic, so he can make sure Muggle-born kids have an easier time when they start at Hogwarts," Loki remembered.

"There you are. Ten years really isn't so long- well, it isn't when you're as old as I am- and already we can see the positive side of Slytherin making itself known once again.

"And the important thing to keep in mind, Mr. Odinson, is this: each house, or rather the traits valued by each house, has had its turn to do good and evil. It's just that the cycles can be very long, with extended periods of peaceful balance between them, and so we remember the most recent one. You're studying History of Magic, is that right?" Loki nodded. "Pay special attention to the Goblin Rebellions. In my parents' day, they were taught about glorious battles, and heroic Gryffindor leaders.

"But if you listen to Professor Binns, and read the textbook closely, you're apt to realize that what happened was actually that clever witches and wizards worked out intellectual explanations for why they were superior to the goblins and so should have more rights. That, Mr. Odinson, was Ravenclaw's best trait, shown at its worst. And when, after generations of this, the goblins had enough and rose in defiance and self-defense- well, who were the brave warriors who opposed them, sometimes in the most brutal manner imaginable?"

"Gryffindors?" Loki whispered.

"Exactly. The leaders, at any rate. Courage is a fine trait. Courage turned into violent arrogance, courage that seeks glory in battle even when the battle should have been avoided in the first place, is a bad one. Intellect and learning is a fine thing, but intellect and learning used to create justifications for bad behaviour is not.

"And... loyalty to one's friends, and family, and to causes that are just- that is a very good thing, and what we want to uphold in Hufflepuff. Blind loyalty, or simply going along with what others say, or refusing to question our friends even when we should realize they're wrong- that's the negative side of Hufflepuff's foremost trait, and even if we aren't the ones leading others into evil, there have been too many times when Hufflepuffs followed blindly along, without stopping to remember that we should think and judge for ourselves.

"It was perfectly understandable that you should take your older brother's word about the houses, and follow his lead because you look up to him. But since you've come to Hogwarts you have been making friends in other houses, haven't you? Accepting them as individuals, and not worrying too much about what you might have heard about their houses?"

Loki thought about Darcy, and Ian, and even Natasha. About Jane and Bruce, and the friendly Gryffindor first-years. "Yes?"

"And that is what we hope for, in Hufflepuff. The intent of the houses isn't to segregate students by traits, or into good or bad houses. It's to put students in the situation that encourages their own best traits to develop, to help them grow into the best people they can be. It isn't foolproof, but most of the time it works quite well. It's just important to understand that the same thing is going on in all the other houses at the same time. And that it can be difficult or painful, and we also must learn to deal with our faults as well as our virtues. That's also the job of our houses, to help with that. That's why Professor Coulson has been writing to your parents, and will be talking with your brother, and trying to find a way to help him change his ways toward you.

"And it's why I'll ask you, if he hurts or frightens you again, to go to a prefect, or come to me, so that we can help you. Another reason we have houses at Hogwarts is so that we don't have to face our problems alone. Can you promise to let us help you, if you need us, the way your friends have tried to help you by coming to me?" Loki nodded. "Good. Now, I will be writing to your parents to tell them about this conversation- not because you did anything wrong, or should be punished," she added quickly. "I always write to the parents of Hufflepuff first-years, and your mother and father need to know about your troubles as well as your triumphs. Your mother and I have exchanged a number of letters already this term. You should know that she and your father are very concerned about their own mistakes regarding you- times when they misunderstood your wishes and needs. They want, very much, for you to be happy."

"I thought... they'd want me to be in Gryffindor," Loki muttered.

"Well, perhaps they did. Most parents do like the idea of their children being in their own house, especially if they were both in the same one. But in cases when it's clear the child belongs somewhere else, sensible parents are generally glad to accept what is best for their son or daughter." She smiled. "I admit I have never met your mother, but I was in school with your father, and I recall him being a very practical boy."

"He said you were very sound," Loki remembered, tucking earth around the roots of the last little plant. It patted his fingers as if in thanks, and Loki stroked its leaves.

"I'm glad to hear it," said Professor Sprout. "And thank you very much for your help. How are you feeling now? A little better, I hope?" Loki nodded, and it was the truth: he felt a great deal lighter, and no longer sick. "Good. I think it's time for both of us to tidy up and go back to the castle. I suggest you wash up and then find your friends. I imagine they're hoping very hard that you'll still want to be friends with them."

Loki nodded, as relief began to spread from his stomach up his body and to his arms and legs.

"You really think so?" he asked.

"I know so. It can be very alarming to take a course of action like confiding in prefects and teachers, instead of just keeping quiet and hoping for the best. Only a very loyal friend would do it for you." Professor Sprout smiled. "I think you are all very lucky to have each other."

Loki petted the little plant again. "Yeah," he said, and he had never meant a word so much in his life.