Notes: You may notice that Loki has a very bad habit of listening to other people's conversations. I know, it's reprehensible. It's also, I think, the kind of fault you might expect in a child as insecure as Loki: he sees the world as a very dangerous place full of potential enemies, so of course he wants to know what they think of him and might be planning to do to him. And- of course- it's also a narrative device to get around the very limited third person perspective of this story.

Bindi gets no lines because I find house elf diction very uncomfortable to write. Sorry, Bindi.

Warnings: I don't want to derail the story by getting all wrapped up in Christmas stuff, so that part is going to be glossed over in much the way Rowling generally does it. Sorry: one holiday story in this AU seemed to be sufficient.

Chapter Sixteen

The next morning, Loki was downstairs before breakfast, putting on his coat and boots at the back door, when Dad came out of the kitchen carrying a mug of tea.

"Good morning," Dad said, his tone friendly. "Where are you off to?"

Remembering the conversation he had overheard the night before, and especially the sadness in his father's voice, Loki did his best not to look anxious.

"I was going to say good morning to Bronwyn and, and give all the owls their breakfast."

"Do you mind if I come with you?" Dad asked. Loki shook his head, as pleased for the attention as he was unnerved by it. Dad got his cloak and boots, and they walked out into the snowy back garden together.

In the owl room over the garage, the tawny owls were settling down for a nap as Bronwyn seemed to be getting ready to start the day. Archimedes looked around as Loki and his father appeared, tu-whooed at them, and shook out his feathers.

Dad smiled. "I do love that sound. I think it's the reason I've always had tawny owls." He walked over to the perch and smoothed Archimedes' head. Euclid leaned over and was petted, too. Bronwyn spread her long wings, flapped experimentally once, and flew to Loki's shoulder, where she preened his hair with her beak. He squeaked when she tugged a little, and she let go in favour of playing with the cuff of his coat as he reached up to pet her. She fluttered her wings again, buffeting Loki in the head, when Dad came over have a closer look at her.

"She really does have striking eyes, doesn't she?" Dad remarked, holding out a hand for Bronwyn to investigate. She tugged at his coat cuff with her beak and Dad scratched her cheek, which Bronwyn seemed to enjoy. Then she sidled around to Loki's other shoulder, using his collar as a foothold, and spreading her wings for balance. Dad smiled. "There's no question whose owl she is," he remarked.

"She likes me," Loki said awkwardly.

"She certainly does," Dad agreed. "Do you and your friends take her out flying very often?"

Loki nodded. "We have a ball we throw for her, and she pretends that she's hunting it. And she comes flying with us when we have lessons, sometimes." Loki had been a little worried that she would fly right onto the Quidditch pitch during a game, but Rogers had explained there were wards set during the games, to prevent the school's owls or any other birds blundering into the field of play.

Dad smoothed Bronwyn's feathers one last time and suggested, "After breakfast, perhaps we could take her into the garden, and you could show me how she plays with her ball."

Startled and pleased, Loki nodded eagerly. Dad smoothed down Loki's hair as if he was an owl himself, and then they fed the owls breakfast and went back into the house for their own.

Loki didn't mention Dad's offer later- it hadn't exactly been a promise, he had just said maybe they could do it, and in Loki's experience maybe usually meant something that never happened, but you were expected to be grateful to the other person for even thinking about doing it. Thor used to make offers like that sometimes, and then forget he had never carried them out. Really, Loki told himself, it was better now, with Thor hardly remembering he existed. At least this way Loki didn't have to wonder what was expected of him.

Loki was surprised when Dad got up from the table and really suggested they go outside, and then he felt guilty, especially when he could tell by his father's expression that his surprise had showed.

Dad said nothing about it, though. He just turned to Mum and asked, "Frigga, would you like to join us?" She looked startled, too, for a second, and then her face lit up in a smile.

"Certainly," she said. "It sounds like fun."

And it was fun. Dad even explained the concealment charm to Loki, as he laid it around the garden. When he was finished, anyone in an upper window of any neighbouring house would simply not notice three people and an owl playing in the snow. Mum turned out to be able to throw the sock-ball surprisingly far, which Bronwyn seemed to like. She still brought her "prey" back to Loki every time, but she started to swoop low over Mum and Dad's heads as she flew around, making Mum utter little startled shrieks of laughter.

"Look at that," she exclaimed, as Bronwyn hovered for a moment before diving talons-first onto her "prey."

"She does that a lot," Loki replied.

"I don't think I've ever seen our other owls hunting," Mum admitted. "I wonder if they can hover, too?"

Bronwyn might have been bored without the owls and activity of Hogwarts, because she played for quite a long time before ending the game as usual by leaving the sock-ball abandoned in the snow and flying away. By this time Loki and his parents were cold, and it seemed like a good idea to come inside and have a drink of hot cocoa in the library.

"When Thor comes home this afternoon, we'll put up the Christmas tree and decorate the house," Mum said. The family had always waited for Thor to come home from school before they decorated, and even this year he was the last one to arrive. Mum looked at Loki. "I don't know if you noticed the tree in the garage, the night you came home. It's a really lovely fir." Loki hadn't, but he was sure it would be beautiful, and the smell of the tree would make it really feel like Christmas.

Thor arrived home just before teatime, stepping out of the fireplace in the dining room and dragging his trunk and his barn owl, Solomon, with him. Loki was in the sitting area at the other end from the table, by the front windows, helping his mother sort out decorations. She scrambled to her feet with a cry of welcome as Thor appeared, and went over to hug him. Thor looked embarrassed but not displeased at her reaction.

Loki stayed where he was. Last year he had gone rushing up to Thor like a puppy, so glad to see him after all those weeks, and Thor had barely acknowledged him. This year, of course, he had seen quite a bit of Thor from a distance, and more than enough of him up close, so all he did was wave to his brother and return to his task.

"I'm going to help Thor take his trunk to his room," Mum called to Loki. Of course, even if he knew a hover charm, Thor couldn't use it outside school, certainly not with either of their parents right there to see him do it. So one of them had to help with his trunk.

"Okay," Loki said. "I can take Solomon out to the owl room, if you want." He was careful about his tone, trying to avoid the old eager-to-please attitude he knew he once displayed toward his brother. He was offering to be helpful so his mother wouldn't think he was being babyish or sulking about Thor, not because he thought helping Thor would make his brother finally like him. Professor Sprout was right, Loki couldn't do anything to control how Thor felt. But his mother liked him, and he didn't want to do anything to put that at risk.

"Sure," Thor said carelessly. And then, "Thanks," he added, when Mum gave him a sharp look.

The best thing about Loki taking Solomon outside was, of course, he was able to stay in the owl room and visit with Bronwyn and the other owls for a while. Loki must have lost track of time a little bit, because suddenly Dad was calling up the stairs from the garage,

"Loki? Are you up there?"

Loki went to the top of the stairs. "I'm here," he called back.

"Good. We're ready to bring the tree into the house and start to decorate it. Come join us."

Loki clattered down the stairs to join his father and brother on the ground floor. Dad and Thor carried the tree while Loki ran ahead to open and close doors for them. Mum and Bindi had rearranged the furniture in the dining room, and Dad set up the tree in front of the windows.

"All right," Mum said. "What if Loki, Bindi and I work on decorating the tree, and Thor and Dad put up the other decorations around the house?" Loki nodded quickly, relieved. Dad had been very nice this morning when they were with the owls, but Loki was still a little nervous at the idea of being alone with his father for any length of time. Mum and Bindi were a lot less intimidating.

"What a good idea," Dad agreed. "Thor? Come along." Thor looked startled at not being asked his opinion at all, which also surprised Loki.

And then it occurred to him that, possibly, the division was also meant to give Dad and Thor a chance to have the sort of conversation Loki had been having with both his parents since he came home. Loki couldn't help it, he badly wanted to know what they were going to talk about.

The tree was half-decorated when Loki excused himself to go to the lavatory. He left the dining room, closing the door softly after himself. Dad and Thor were decorating the entry hall and talking earnestly together. They didn't notice Loki crossing the hall- he could be very quiet and inconspicuous when he wanted to be.

He went through the kitchen and utility room to the ground-floor lavatory.

And then, on the way back, Loki paused at the kitchen door and cracked it open a tiny bit.

Loki knew perfectly well he had no business listening to other people's conversations. It was a terrible, deceitful thing to do and he knew it, but the temptation was too much for him to resist. It sounded as if Dad and Thor were at the foot of the stairwell, and Thor's voice was lowered but still quite easy to hear:

"He doesn't even care if I'm around, he just spends all his time with those rotten little Hufflepuffs."

Dad sighed, then replied patiently, "Thor, Loki is in first-year, and he is in Hufflepuff. Of course his friends are in first year and in Hufflepuff, too. Your mother tells me they seem to be very nice children. Are you honestly trying to tell me that you would prefer your brother was lonely and trailing after you?" Dad paused. "And if he did follow you around, are you telling me you wouldn't mind?"

Thor was silent for a long moment. Loki could almost see him squirming, and in spite of himself, from years of habit, he felt a little sorry for his brother. Finally, Thor replied,

"He didn't come anywhere near me at first. It was like… he didn't care if I was around or not."

"So you wanted him to be with you. You mean you wanted to show him around Hogwarts, and answer his questions, and help him get settled and learn his way?"

"Um," Thor muttered.

"Did you seek him out?" Dad asked, beginning to sound impatient. Thor was silent. "Did you give him any sign you wanted contact with him? He never played with you and your friends, or went around with you in the summers. Had you ever invited him?" Loki wondered whether Dad thought Loki had lied to him, or if this was just a way to give Thor a chance to tell the story his own way. Thor still said nothing, and Dad persisted, "Did you tell him things would be different now, that you wanted him to come to you with his questions and his worries?"

"I shouldn't have to- he should know- " Thor protested feebly.

"How?" Dad snapped. "How could he possibly- ?" Dad cut himself off sharply and started over: "If you wanted him to know he could come to you for advice and help, you should have told him so. And you should have sought him out for yourself, instead of waiting for him to come to you- despite what I understand is a history of being rebuffed when he does."

Loki remembered his brother getting up from the Gryffindor table and walking away as Loki approached. Had that been a test, to see whether Loki would scamper after him like a puppy? Well, if it had been, Loki had failed. That might be why Thor was angry at him the next time they met.

Loki waited for the rush of regret for his lost chance, and was mildly surprised when nothing happened. There would have been more tests if he had passed that one. He would have had to earn every scrap of attention, would have had to look ridiculous in front of the whole school as payment. He just didn't want Thor's attention that much.

And he didn't believe Thor had really wanted him, anyway, not to give help and advice to the way Becky did with Annie. Thor might have told himself he did, but Dad was right: if he meant it, he would have come to Loki first, or at least made it a little easier by not being surrounded all the time by people who despised Loki. Thor had wanted Loki to take the tests, but Loki didn't believe there really would have been any reward for him if he had passed.

Or maybe there would have been, at least until Thor got tired of playing the model big brother and punished Loki for not knowing he had changed his mind.

There was a long enough silence that Loki started to feel uneasy about getting back to the dining room before Mum came looking for him. Then Thor said,

"If he was just in Gryffindor, everything would be- Why is he even in- You didn't see him at the Sorting, Dad. He sat there forever until the Hat said 'Hufflepuff.' He didn't even want to be in Gryffindor."

Loki held his breath at that, but Dad was having none of it. "Even if that is true- and unless you've asked him you have no way of knowing- what of it? Loki knows the reputations of the houses. If he took a fancy to Hufflepuff and asked to be put there, the Hat still would not have done it if it had seemed a bad fit."

"But he was supposed to be- We're all- "

"Gryffindors, yes. And I admit, I would have expected Loki to want to be in Gryffindor, too, at least at first. But either the Hat decided he belonged elsewhere, or Loki did, or both. The important thing is, he's obviously happy. That's all that concerns me about Hufflepuff.

"What does concern me are these reports from Professor Coulson about how you're treating your brother. I can't begin to tell you how surprised and disappointed your mother and I were to receive them. We will not tolerate you being deliberately unkind like this, and especially not to your brother." There was a pause, and Dad went on, more quietly, "You are our first-born, and I don't have words to tell you how much we love you. The only person in the world your mother and I love as we love you is Loki, and we want both of you to be happy. He's the only brother you will ever have- and someday, when you're an old man like me, you may find yourself very glad indeed to have him."

"But I can't- they won't even let me talk to him unless there's a teacher right there," Thor protested. "It's… it's embarrassing."

"I agree," Dad said tightly. "Have you had difficulty finding a teacher when you want to speak to your brother?" Silence. "Have you tried?"

"He hasn't," Thor mumbled.

"No, I suppose he hasn't," Dad mused. Loki winced at his tone, but it was much kinder when he went on, "You're the elder, Thor. And it sounds as if your brother has already tried, and you punished him for not trying when and how you wanted him to. It's up to you now, and if you want him to trust you, you'll have to earn it. It's a hard thing to admit, I know, but it's the truth." There was another pause, broken by peculiar snuffling noises, and then Dad said gently, "Come along, let's take a little break."

Loki suddenly heard the sound of them coming toward the kitchen. He hastily scooted into the utility room, then out its back door into the garden. Ducked down so as not to be seen, he scurried across the terrace to the door that led into the entry hall and then quickly returned to the dining room.

Mum and Bindi looked up as he came through the door.

"I was just about to come looking for you," Mum remarked. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, fine thank you," Loki mumbled, and hurried to help finish the tree.

~oOo~

Thor was quieter than usual for the next few days. In spite of that- or, Loki thought rather guiltily, maybe because of it, since it gave Loki a lot more chance to be paid attention- Christmas was enjoyable. Bindi and his parents all seemed pleased with the sachets Loki had made for them- he had made one for Thor, too, of course, but it was hard to tell if Thor liked it.

Bindi adored her hat and mittens. In fact she wore the hat all Christmas Day, along with a blue cardigan that was nearly the same colour. She even used the mittens to protect her hands when she was taking the turkey out of the oven, so it really did look like Christmas dinner was being served by a giant budgie.

Bronwyn was supposed to carry a formal invitation to visit to Mitchell on Boxing Day, but Loki sent her off on Christmas Day with thank-yous to his friends for their gifts. Annie had given- perhaps even made- him a knitted rat for Bronwyn to pounce on. Mitchell gave him a card game that was much like Exploding Snap, except the cards all had owls on them, and instead of exploding at the crucial moment they would simply fly away. And George sent a Muggle book called The Hobbit, which was- at least to begin with- a story about a little man who lived in an underground house very much like the Hufflepuff basement.

When Mum and Dad came up to wish Loki goodnight at the end of the day, both of them smelled of peppermint and lavender and Dad was wearing the dark gray cardigan from the Muggle store. They kissed him goodnight and Loki fell asleep almost at once.

On Boxing Day, Mum and Dad always had a cocktail party for their colleagues from St. Mungo's and the Ministry. It started quite late in the evening, and in past years Loki was always sent to bed before the guests began to arrive. He remembered when Thor was too young to stay up to greet the guests either- the two of them used to sneak halfway down the stairs to watch the guests arrive. The next day, there would always be leftover snacks and things the brothers would have for lunch.

This year, Loki was also old enough to stay up for the first bit of the party, which was rather exciting. He put on his dress robes and hurried downstairs ahead of Thor, and then had to stay out of the way while Bindi and Mum made sure everything was ready in the dining room. The tree was lit, the table was covered with plates of food, and when the first guests arrived Loki was standing with his mother while Thor stood on Dad's other side.

Mum had warned him that, despite what Thor used to tell him, this really would not be a very amusing party, mostly just grownups eating and talking to each other.

"We just want to show you boys off a little," Mum explained, straightening the collar of his robe and smoothing down his already-smoothed hair. "Since you're both so handsome." Loki thought about Thor, tall like Dad and golden like Mum, and then his skinny black-haired self. He must have looked doubtful, because Mum smiled and repeated, "Both of you. Now, the first guests will arrive around nine- probably the Smethwycks, because they don't like to stay out very late anymore, so they always arrive on time and don't stay very long. I'd like for you and Thor to be here until nine-thirty or so, but if you're bored you don't have to stay any longer. Bindi can give you some snacks to take upstairs with you, and Dad and I will look in to say goodnight at ten-thirty. All right?"

"All right," Loki agreed. He had gotten to quite an exciting part of his new book and wanted to read some more before George came to visit the next day. Mum smiled and kissed the top of his head. She was doing that a lot this holiday.

Mum had told the truth, the party really wasn't very interesting. Mr. Smethwyck remembered Loki as "the Hufflepuff," and everyone else said hello quite politely, but even Thor, who could at least talk sensibly about Quidditch, had very little to say to most of the adults.

There were a few exceptions. Madame and Mr. Romanov, who both worked with the Department of International Magical Cooperation, looked interested when Mum introduced Loki and mentioned he had just finished his first term at Hogwarts.

"I suppose you do not know our daughter, Natasha?" Madame Romanov asked, in careful English. "She is also in her first year at Hogwarts."

Loki felt his face get hot, but he replied, "I do know her. We have some classes together. She's… she's very smart." He didn't know what else he could say, since Natasha had clearly not told her parents anything about him. He didn't like to say he liked her, even though it was true, in case that made her parents ask her about him and embarrassed her. Luckily, the Romanovs didn't notice his discomfort as they moved along to speak to someone else.

Most of the guests were, of course, around the same age as Loki's parents. There were a few exceptions: Harry Potter and his wife and Hermione Granger and her husband- who turned out to be the younger of the brothers who ran Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes- were the same age as Mr. Longbottom, which wasn't that old. They arrived together, and when the boys were introduced to them Mr. Potter immediately asked about "Neville."

"Mr. Longbottom, I mean," he amended, when his wife poked him. Loki and Thor said he was helping teach Herbology.

"And flying," Loki added. He blushed as the four adults looked at him in surprise. "He's been helping Madame Hooch with us first-years."

"Neville?" demanded Mr. Weasley, looking startled. This time it was his turn to get poked by his wife.

"He said you were a much better flyer than he was," Loki remembered, speaking to Mr. Potter.

"But he was a much better dancer," Mr. Potter's wife remarked into her drink, and all four of them burst into giggles.

"He's still a much better dancer," Mr. Potter laughed.

"You said it," Mrs. Potter agreed.

The jokes weren't very funny, really- unless you'd been friends for a long time and they were part of your old stories. When Thor and his friends were as old as Mr. Potter and his, they would have a lot of jokes and stories like these.

Maybe Loki and his friends would, too. It was nice to think about the possibility of himself being part of a group that knew they could count on each other, even years after they'd all left school.

Thinking about that, Loki squirmed a little inside.

If he wanted to be part of a group of friends who trusted each other, maybe he should start by showing some trust of his own.

~oOo~

"So, your dad," Mitchell said quietly. "Not as scary as I was expecting."

The four friends were in the upstairs reception room, sitting on the floor at a low round table, playing Owl Snap. There was a plate of ginger biscuits sitting in the middle of the table, part of the baking Bindi had offered to teach them. Annie, of course, had already mastered cooking at this level, which was a good thing because Loki, George, and Mitchell (well, not so much George) had needed a lot of supervision. Still, they had managed to produce a batch of acceptable-looking custard creams to be shared at tea, and another of the ginger biscuits, half of which were also in the kitchen waiting to be shared.

"He's been really nice this Christmas," Loki admitted, and then flinched. "I mean, it's not that he's not, it's just, you know- "

"He's a little bit terrifying," Mitchell completed the thought.

"I don't think he can help it," Loki offered.

"I wonder if that's why Professor Fury left the Ministry?" George wondered, reaching for another biscuit. Everyone looked at him. "I mean, no offense, Loki, but he and your dad would have looked like the world's scariest set of bookends. Maybe they decided one of them had to retire or everyone at the Ministry would die of terror. Maybe they drew straws."

"Maybe there's really a hobbit living in the Hufflepuff basement," Annie said. Before anyone else could speak again, she added, "How's Thor been, this holiday?"

Loki wrinkled his nose a little bit. "I don't… I'm not…" He organized the cards in front of him into a tidier pile. "He's been awfully quiet. Dad talked to him- "

"Good," Annie nodded.

"- and I think he's probably kind of upset about that," Loki admitted, fidgeting with his cards.

"And isn't that too bad," George said sharply.

"I think he wants me to go away, except not go away," Loki explained helplessly, and was relieved when his friends looked just as confused as he felt.

It might have been their shared expression, or it might just have been that, now he was home, he kept thinking about his secret, and it felt like a weight in his chest when he remembered it.

Whatever the reason, Loki suddenly found himself leaning forward.

"And maybe he's right, anyway," he said.

"What do you mean?" Mitchell asked.

Loki glanced over his shoulder at the door. It was slightly ajar, but they were sitting so far away from it that surely their conversation couldn't be overheard. He lowered his voice anyway.

"I mean… can you keep a secret?" he asked.

Annie looked rather stern. "What kind of a secret?" Loki stared at her, and she insisted, "If someone's hurting you, or anything like that, you should tell somebody. I can't keep a secret like that."

"You sound exactly like Professor Sprout," Loki muttered.

"Thank you," Annie replied, with dignity.

"Nobody's hurting me," Loki told her. "It's… please, Annie, you have to promise not to tell anyone." Annie looked very closely at him, and then nodded. Loki chewed his lower lip. "I've… I've been telling you all lies," he admitted, getting the worst part out of the way first.

"What kind of lies?" Annie asked, her face falling.

Loki nearly lost his courage, but he made himself continue:

"I'm… I'm not… My mum and dad aren't my real parents. They adopted me. My, my real parents are in Azkaban. Annie, that's why I wanted to look up Dark sorcerers. I wanted to find out about… about- "

"Oh, wow," George said, leaning forward a little. Loki felt grateful that he leaned toward Loki instead of away. He didn't dare look at Annie.

"Oh, Loki," Annie said, and reached over to pat him on the arm. "I'm sorry I got angry at you."

Loki blinked. "You're not angry now?" he whispered. Annie shook her head. "But I… but I lied to you. I didn't even tell you the truth after I promised not to lie anymore."

Annie flapped her hands. "That's not lying, though. I mean, it's your own private personal business, and it doesn't change who you are. It's not like you got adopted after we met you."

"That would be a little weird," Mitchell spoke up.

"You know what I mean," Annie insisted. "If something really big happened to one of us now, I'd be kind of hurt if the person didn't tell us about it. But Loki, you're still Loki Odinson, and you always have been since we've known you." She frowned. "And your parents are your parents. There are probably lots of kids at Hogwarts who got adopted after the war- I wish someone had adopted Clint and his brother- and that doesn't meant they aren't who they are."

Loki found himself a little tangled up in Annie's last sentence, but he was too relieved by her attitude to complain. Still-

"There probably aren't lots of kids whose parents are in Azkaban, though," he pointed out fearfully.

Mitchell shrugged. "There might be, though. Lots of Death Eaters had kids, after all." Loki remembered what Professor Sprout had said, about the unusually high number of nasty kids in Slytherin around the time of the war, because they were the children of parents who taught them to follow Voldemort's ideas. Mitchell went on, "I mean, I can't imagine anyone with little kids joining him and, you know, starting a war, but my parents and yours, Loki, fought on the other side once the war started, and they had little kids."

"It's not the same thing, though," George protested. "Voldemort started it."

Mitchell shrugged again. "Well, maybe if you were a Death Eater, you figured it was worth it. That once all the Muggles and everyone were properly under control and all the power was in the hands of people like you, your kids would benefit."

Annie raised her eyebrows. "Don't let Professor Fury catch you saying that." She glanced at George. "Or Loki's dad."

Mitchell made a face. "I didn't say I agreed with them. Only that there probably were Death Eaters with little kids, and probably some of those kids got adopted, or went into foster care like Clint and Barney, and they're at Hogwarts right now. Maybe I'm adopted, you never know."

His friends all looked at him, before George said, "Awfully big coincidence, then, that you were adopted by someone who looks just like you."

"Maybe they picked me because I matched," Mitchell retorted, which sounded so ridiculous that all four of them burst out laughing.

When they stopped, Annie turned to Loki. "It's like I said in the library, about Bruce- his parents weren't in the book about the good side, so maybe they were just minding their own business, or maybe they were on the Dark side. But Bruce is good. His auntie must be a good person, so he's growing up learning to be good. Loki, your dad is scary, but he's good, and so is your mother. Except, you know, not scary." She considered. "Even Thor, I mean, he's nasty to you, but he seems to be nice in other ways. Anyway, what I mean is, it doesn't matter what parents you were born with. Maybe they were awful- "

Loki shuddered, remembering what Professor Fury had told him. "They were."

"- but you're not. Maybe- maybe that's why the Hat put you in Hufflepuff," she said suddenly. "Not to make you good, but maybe it could tell you were upset about all this, and it decided Professor Sprout would be the best person to be in charge of you. I mean, really," she appealed to the other two boys, "imagine if we were all in some other house. Would you have wanted to go to one of the other heads when we thought Loki needed help?"

"I'd go to Professor Slughorn," George said.

"Okay, yes, I would, too," Annie admitted. "But I still think Professor Sprout is, is the most practical person to go to, if someone was in trouble or felt bad." Everyone nodded at that.

"That wasn't the reason, though," Loki said, without thinking. His friends looked curiously at him, and he felt his face heat up. "I asked it to put me in Gryffindor. Because, because- "

"- because of your family, yeah," Mitchell agreed. "It wanted to put me in Gryffindor, for about a minute, and I held out for Hufflepuff because my family has always been in Hufflepuff. It's perfectly understandable, you had no way of knowing which house really was the best until you got put in it."

Loki made a face at him. "Anyway, I kind of… I knew I really don't belong in Gryffindor, but I asked anyway, and it asked me what I wanted, and… and I thought about all of us on the train, all the first-years, being friends. And it put me in Hufflepuff."

George frowned at him. "Really, Loki, the fact you didn't think about ruling the world or turning your brother into a toad should be all the proof you need that you aren't going to turn Dark."

"Good point," Mitchell snickered.

Annie looked thoughtful. "Do your mum and dad know you worry about this?"

Loki felt himself go pale. "No. They don't know I know, I found out by accident, and I've never- you can't say anything about it. Please."

Annie stared at him. "They don't know you know you're adopted?"

Loki shook his head. "I, I don't know what to do about it. How to talk to them about it. If I should talk to them about it. That's why I asked you to keep it a secret."

He must have looked as frantic as he felt, because Annie picked up the plate of biscuits and offered it to him.

"That secret, we can keep," she promised, and looked at George and Mitchell. "Right?"

"Right," agreed Mitchell, and George nodded.

And then they all had another biscuit.