Notes: In which things lighten up a little bit. Since this is an AU of the Housemates series, anyone who's read those stories will probably recognize certain thought patterns that show up here…

Warnings: None needed.

Chapter Eleven

Loki crawled through the barrel passage into the Hufflepuff common room. At this time of the evening it was mostly occupied by first- and second-years, since the older students were allowed to come in a bit later. The hum of conversation in the room wavered at the sight of him, and Loki froze, wondering if everybody had been talking about him.

And then Annie, who had been sitting on the rug in the corner with George and Mitchell, popped to her feet and hurried toward him with her hands outstretched. "Hi! You're back! We've been worrying about you!"

She grabbed his hand and Loki, his ears hot, followed her to the rug and sat down. He supposed, though, it was less awkward to have Annie just admit they really had been talking about him, though apparently not in a bad way. After a few seconds the second-years went back to their conversations and games, while the first-years all gathered in the corner.

"Here," Dennis muttered, holding out a sock-ball. "Your other one is getting kind of ripped up, and I know you're worried about Bronwyn eating bits of it, so I made you this."

"Thanks," Loki muttered back as he accepted the toy. He hoped he wasn't going to get weepy, or anything stupid like that.

"We practiced flying in twos and threes today," Pippa informed him, "and Madame Hooch said she'd let us practice on the Quidditch pitch tomorrow if we want, because the older kids are going into Hogsmeade. She said she and Mr. Longbottom will be there after breakfast."

"Oh, okay. That's good," Loki said stupidly.

"We missed you in the lesson today," Pippa said matter-of-factly, and then went back to the table where she had been working on homework. Dennis and the other first-years also scattered, leaving Loki sitting on the rug with Annie, George, and Mitchell. His friends looked nervous. Finally, Annie blurted,

"Please don't be mad at us for telling Professor Sprout. We were... you were... you were so sad."

Loki found his tongue. "It's okay. Really, it's okay. I feel better now. I do. Um... thank you for being worried about me."

Annie's face lit up in relief, and the four friends spent the rest of the evening reviewing homework in the classes Loki had been neglecting recently. There was an awful lot of it, and Loki hoped he could catch up.

He had one bad moment, when the first-years went to the dormitory at bedtime and Loki discovered his floppy rhinoceros sitting on his pillow- apparently, one of the house elves had tidied up his bed while he was with Professor Sprout, and didn't realize the rhinoceros was supposed to be hidden. Loki would have given a lot, at that moment, to know a charm for making things invisible.

Mitchell glanced at the rhinoceros, and then went over to his wardrobe, rummaged around in the back, and came out with a battered blue rabbit. He glared around at the others, daring them to tease him. George looked reluctant for a moment and then opened the bottom drawer in his wardrobe and fished out a teddy bear.

"Maybe I'll be able to make it fly on purpose before long," he remarked.

There was some uneasy shuffling, and then Dennis and two of the other first-year boys also retrieved soft toys from their hiding places. And then everyone put on their pajamas without further comment, and went to bed.

The next morning, all the students in third year and above were buzzing about their trip into the nearby village of Hogsmeade. There so much talk about the visit that there was less than the usual amount of interest in the arrival of the morning owl post. Loki had already received a letter from home this week and hadn't answered it yet- he felt a little squirm in his stomach as he wondered exactly how much he should tell them, and how much Professor Sprout would- so he was just watching the owls fly in and pointing out the different species to Dennis, whose interest in owls was steadily increasing.

"Look at that one!" Dennis exclaimed, pointing out a really huge eagle owl as it flew into the Great Hall, carrying a long thin package in its talons. "He's enormous!"

"He's probably a she, then," Loki remarked. "Female owls are bigger than males. And she's really strong, too- you almost never see a single owl carrying a broomstick like that."

"I wonder who's getting a new broom?" Mitchell said. His question was answered almost at once, when the owl made a swooping circle over the Slytherin table and dropped the package right into the middle of everyone's breakfast. There was a scramble of students jumping up as they were splashed with cereal, eggs, and pumpkin juice, then a buzz of excitement as whoever had received the new broomstick unwrapped it.

The Hufflepuff table usually had students of all years mixed together, including the prefects. So there really was nothing unusual about Rogers sitting close to Loki and his friends, but it meant they heard him exclaim,

"Oh, crikey, it's Stark." He sounded as if he wasn't sure whether to be excited or dismayed. "I wonder if that's another prototype?"

"What do you mean?" Mitchell was bold enough to ask.

"His family owns Stark Broomworks," Rogers explained. Loki, who wasn't as interested in broomsticks as... some people... had never made the connection. Rogers went on, "His dad sometimes gets him to use prototype brooms- brooms that aren't ready to be produced for sale to the public- in Quidditch matches, to really test their capabilities. Stark is a seeker, so he asks a lot of his broomsticks in the games."

"Is that fair?" a first-year girl called Olivia asked. "That he always has the best broomstick?"

"Well, anyone above first year is allowed to bring their own with them, so there are always a few players who have really high-performance models," Rogers shrugged. "And anyway, it's not that his dad is making sure he's got their top of the line broom- he's testing them. Last year, when he had the Lightning Bolt prototype, he was practically unbeatable, but two years ago- it wasn't funny!" he interrupted himself to snap, as some of the older Hufflepuffs started laughing.

"It wasn't funny at the time," one of the girls corrected. "But since he wasn't hurt- "

"What happened?" Loki asked.

"His broomstick caught fire in the first match," Rogers explained. "I don't think anyone ever figured out how it happened, but the model never went into production. Manufacturers put all kinds of different spells on broomsticks, but I'd never heard of one setting the broom on fire before that. One minute Stark was chasing the snitch with the Ravenclaw seeker, and the next his broomstick burst into flame. He had to ditch in the Black Lake- the Slytherin beaters went right after him, but he was going so fast that he could have drowned, if the giant squid hadn't picked him up and handed him back to the beaters."

"And in the meantime, the Ravenclaw seeker had caught the snitch," a third-year boy added. "Slytherin wasn't very happy about that."

"Well, the whistle hadn't blown," Rogers explained, "so the snitch was still in play. The team understood, even if the rest of the house didn't take it very well. And it all happened so fast I'm pretty sure she didn't realize what was going on any more than Madame Hooch did at first."

"You would think the dirty great flames shooting out the back of Stark's broom would have been a tip-off," someone else said skeptically.

"He was lucky his robes didn't catch before he hit the water," said a fifth-year, and Loki found himself agreeing with Rogers: this really wasn't a very funny story.

"Nobody ever found the broom," said another fifth-year.

"Probably wasn't much left of it to find."

"And then later he told everyone he had to go back to the lake, because he had made a date with a mermaid while he was underwater," Rogers went on, a smile beginning to tug at the corners of his mouth. "He went on and on about it."

"So he was probably a lot more scared than he wanted to admit," George said, apparently without thinking, and everybody looked at him. George blushed violently.

"Probably," Rogers agreed, before George could feel too conspicuous. "He was really funny about it, though."

Stark had already gotten up from the Slytherin table, carrying the new broomstick, and approached the teachers' table. He spoke to Madame Hooch for a couple of minutes, then went over to the Gryffindor table to talk to Rhodes. Now he headed for the Hufflepuffs, or rather toward Rogers.

"Hey, Steve, can I ask a favour of you? I'd like to take this thing for a spin before we play Gryffindor- " the first match of the year was Gryffindor versus Slytherin, not Hufflepuff- "just in case anything really stupid happens. Would you mind coming out to spot me, before you go into Hogsmeade?"

"I'll be glad to," Rogers replied.

"Thanks. Our team is all fifth-year and below, and I really don't want to shake up their confidence in the first match. Rhodey says he'll come out, too." Stark looked around at the first-years. "Madame Hooch tells me you lot are having extra flying practice today- I promise to do my best not to die horribly in front of you." He wiggled his eyebrows as if it was all a joke.

"Stop it, Tony," Rogers said. "Your dad wouldn't send you a broom he had any doubts about, not after what happened in the lake."

"You've met my dad, right?" Stark retorted. "It's lucky for me that I'm his only son and heir, is all I can say." He glanced around the table. "Pray for me, won't you?"

"Go away, Tony," Rogers said sternly. Stark wore a grin as he walked away, but Loki wasn't sure it was a real one.

~oOo~

The first-years were going to the Quidditch pitch at the same time the older students were starting for Hogsmeade, so there was quite a lot of confusion on the front steps of the castle for a few minutes. Loki stuck close to Rogers and his broomstick as they came outside, but he didn't see Thor or his friends. The headmistress, Professor McGonagall, was personally collecting permission forms and seeing off the students, so Rogers and his friends went over to deliver theirs, so they could go to the village after the flying session.

"A very good idea, to test that new broomstick before the match," the headmistress remarked, her mouth primming up. Loki suspected she had not found the fire incident terribly funny either, and he hoped she had written a really nasty letter to Stark's father about it. "And, Mr. Stark, what are you wearing?"

Stark looked down at himself. Under his unzipped jacket, he wore a t-shirt with a picture of a strange-looking machine that might have been a cross between a Muggle tank and battleship. What Professor McGonagall seemed to be looking at was the lettering on it, which spelled out Diamond Head and Am I Evil. Probably the second part was what concerned her.

Stark looked up with a winning smile. "Well, you know what they say, Professor: the Muggles have all the best bands."

Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow and looked severe. "That, Mr. Stark, has been progressively less true since the Beatles broke up."

Stark looked really startled for a second, then recovered as the headmistress walked away. "She fancied Paul McCartney," he stage-whispered. For once, the only people who got the joke seemed to be the Muggle-born students, who all giggled.

"John Lennon, actually," Professor McGonagall, whose hearing was apparently very sharp, got the last word over her shoulder. She still looked very stern, although Loki was beginning to wonder if she really meant it. "And I would be very glad if you would consider at least zipping your jacket before you go off to represent Hogwarts in the village."

"Yes, ma'am," Stark replied, with a playful salute that probably wasn't as jokey as it looked. Professor McGonagall seemed satisfied, and Loki was almost certain her mouth twitched as she turned back toward the castle. Loki and his friends followed the older boys to the pitch.

Madame Hooch and Mr. Longbottom had brought the school brooms and laid them out. Loki hadn't realized that all the first years were invited for extra practice, not just the Hufflepuffs. He and his housemates gravitated toward the Ravenclaws, since they were already used to flying together. The Gryffindors and Slytherins did the same thing, Natasha and Darcy going casually to stand next to Clint.

Madame Hooch spoke to the first-years:

"Mr. Stark is going to test-fly a new broom for a few minutes, before we turn the pitch over to you. You can get some good tips from watching proficient flyers, so pay close attention. Off you go, up in the stands with you!"

The first-years scrambled up into the stands, all mixed together instead of separate by house. Loki found himself sitting in front of Jane and between Annie and Bruce, with George and Mitchell on the bench in front of them.

Stark walked his broomstick well clear of the other two boys, waited for them to get into the air, and then kicked off himself. He flew in a careful circle around the field, with Rogers and Rhodes following above and behind him. Stark looked around to see where they were, then over where the teachers were standing, waiting for the test to be over. Loki could see him smile, and he waved at someone before going back to concentrating on his broom.

Loki had been watching the flyers, but now he looked toward the teachers and realized Professor Slughorn had appeared, and was standing with Madame Hooch and Mr. Longbottom. His wand was in his hand, in case he might need it. Loki, who had been apprehensive as he watched Stark try out the broom, suddenly felt much calmer.

There was another person standing beside Professor Slughorn. He was shorter and skinnier, wearing jeans and a worn-looking jacket, and his shoulders were slumped.

"Is that Clint's brother?" Loki whispered to his friends, as if Barney could hear him from all this distance away- or Clint, who was sitting as far away from Loki as he could and still be in the stands.

Annie leaned over and looked. "I think it is. I wonder why he's here?"

"Maybe Professor Slughorn thinks… " Loki could feel the thought getting tangled as he tried to say it, but he went on, "… maybe he's decided just punishing him won't change anything. Maybe he's- " He thought about Professor Sprout, asking him to help her with the little friendly plants. That hadn't been a detention, of course, but… but maybe that was sort of what Barton's detention would look like.

Everyone was quiet for a minute. Then:

"It was weird to see him again," Bruce said suddenly.

"What do you mean, again?" George asked, looking up at him. "You mean you knew him before Hogwarts?"

"Yeah, a long time ago. He and Clint lived with my aunt and me for a little while," Bruce explained. At the confused expressions on the Hufflepuffs' faces, he went on, "My parents got killed in the war, so I went to live with my aunt. And she used to- there were other kids in the same situation, and sometimes they didn't have much family, or it took a while to track them down, so they'd stay with us, too. I don't remember most of them because I was really little, of course. But Barney and Clint, they've been in foster care ever since their parents got killed. They didn't have anyone, and they… got moved around. They were with us when I was five or six."

"So they've been in foster care for Clint's whole life?" Annie asked, looking really sorry.

"I guess," Bruce said, wriggling uncomfortably. They all knew the maths: the war had ended ten years ago, and everyone in first year was eleven. That was Clint's whole life, or awfully close to it. Bruce went on, "They didn't stay with us very long- Barney was pretty scary then, he'd get so angry, and I think my aunt got worried about what he might do. And they- the Ministry, or someone- didn't want to split him and Clint up, so they went somewhere else together."

"Did your aunt know what's the matter with him?" Loki asked, watching Professor Slughorn turn his head to say something to the skinny boy.

"I think he remembers his parents getting killed," Bruce said, and shivered.

"Oh," Mitchell said, looking sick. Loki felt the same way: Barney would have been three or four, and Loki could remember things from when he was that age. He tried to imagine seeing-

He wanted to ask if Bruce knew anything else, if it was Death Eaters who had killed Clint and Barney's parents. Then he remembered that Bruce's parents had died too, probably the same way, and he knew better than to ask. He hadn't thought about it before, because it was just something you knew, but there must be a lot of kids here who had lost parents, or someone else from their family, in the war.

Probably his parents, or the people his parents were friends with, had killed some of them. Loki leaned forward and wrapped his arms around his knees. Did that make it partly his fault, too?

He sneaked a look at Clint's brother, standing next to Professor Slughorn. From this far away he didn't look ratty and mean. He just looked small and sad, kind of hunched over like he was tired. Loki could only look at him for a few seconds before his eyes wanted to skitter away.

Loki didn't think Professor Sprout would say it was his fault, what his parents had done. He was only a baby, he hadn't even known about it. He hadn't known them. She had promised him that, if he tried hard, he could be a good person.

Of course, he hadn't told her everything. He hadn't explained that his parents really weren't his parents, that his real parents were locked up in Azkaban, where they belonged. But she had said, she had said people didn't just get born bad, or anyway almost never. And all the things she said good people felt, even when they did something wrong, he felt those things, too.

So maybe… maybe it didn't matter that he hadn't told her the whole truth? Maybe he just had to work harder to be good than most people did?

That was it. That had to be it.

What bothered him right now, though, was knowing… It wasn't fair, at all, that Clint and Barney's parents got killed by Dark sorcerers, and then they had to move from one place to another, and never have anybody of their own or anything nice. And all the time he got to live in a nice house, with parents who looked after him, and have a brother, and his own owl, and… and everything, all because his parents had been sent to prison and Dad had wanted to keep an eye on him. That wasn't fair at all. If things were fair-

If things were fair, Thor would be Clint's brother, wouldn't he? And Barney's, and then Barney wouldn't be so angry all the time, wanting to hurt people… Wanting to hurt Clint.

Loki hugged his knees harder, no longer seeing the older boys streaking around the pitch, or hearing the voices of his classmates cheering them on. He didn't know what to do. He couldn't just give Thor to Clint, of course- although Thor had pretty much done that for himself, hadn't he?- and he had no idea what he should do about Barney. Barney had never even looked at him, and Loki was scared of him.

He sneaked another look at Barney, and then turned to look up at Clint, who was watching the flyers and didn't notice. He didn't know what to do, but if he was going to be a good person… that meant he had to do something.

He was going to have to think about it.