Part 2 of the BOUND by MAGIC Series

Sequel to FOUND by MAGIC


°.✩┈┈∘*┈🌙┈*∘┈┈✩.°CHILD of MAGIC°.✩┈┈∘*┈🌙┈*∘┈┈✩.°


[June 4th, 1986]

One of the most extraordinary characters in Northern mythology, the strange figure of Loki was not a god, yet he was ranked among the Æsir and was the blood brother of their chief Odin. There is no evidence that Loki was worshipped as a god, but he appears to be an essential character within the mythological kinship. His presence is pivotal to many of the mythical events. He was both the constant companion and great friend of the gods and, at the same time, an evil influence and a deadly enemy. Loki was handsome, witty, and charming but was also malicious and sly.

At four years old, little Hermione Granger had been exposed to the world of Gods, Æsir. Having spent the night and a good portion of the morning well into the evening in the care of Loki Odinson, the God of Mischief, Trickery, and Deception. A seed had been planted, and she wanted to know more about him.

Her mother and father had started to tell her fun stories about the Gods, but when she was old enough to check books out at the library in the school, she realised how they left certain things out. Hermione liked to read. She was really good at it. Much to her father's displeasure, she'd spent most of the last year reading up on Norse Mythology.

At first, the stories they told her were fine. She enjoyed them enough. They just didn't match up with what she remembered. He had a horse for a child? Did he? Maybe, she hadn't recalled seeing an eight-legged horse, though. Her dad told her that Odin took the horse as his mount, which was weird. It was weird! Odin was Loki's dad! Why would he ride Loki's son? No, no, no! Hermione refused to think that true. Rather! She wanted to read everything she could about Loki and make comparisons since the people who wrote these books had obviously never met Loki.

Loki was fun and played with her, and since bringing her home, he had visited a few times throughout the year. He drank tea with her mother and father, then sat with her and played meditation with her. Meditation was Loki's favourite game to play when he visited. Hermione told him it was boring once, but then he made his hands glow for her and told her she could do the same if she played right. Oh, and she did! Just like Loki, she could make her hands glow too, and just as he had shown her how to concentrate on drawing her magic out, he had also shown her how to mould it into a physical ball of energy. Something that she could hold, but it didn't do much except light the area. Loki told her that magic without intent was just a pretty light show. Oh, but it was warm and pretty, and she liked showing it to her mom and dad.

At the moment, she sat in her bed reading a book she'd picked up on a school trip to the library. It was a book on Norse Mythology, of course, and it referenced Loki's more destructive tendencies rather than bringing focus on his storytelling and his talent in hide and seek. None of the books mentioned how much he liked games, not the kind he played with her. Her dad had introduced him to Chess and even gifted him one so he could play it in Ásgarðr with his brother or, more likely, his mother. Looking up as the door to her room opened, Hermione slowly closed her book.

"It's time for bed, Starshine."

Shaking her head, she pulled the book into her chest, and her messy brown curls fell into her doe brown eyes as she looked up at her father. The speckle of freckles that ran over the top of her nose and brushed along her cheeks lit up under the fluorescent light above her bed. Hermione hated her freckles, but her mom and dad loved them. Raising her hand to her hair, she flipped the long, floofy curls over her head, "Can't I just finish this chapter?"

"...how many pages are in the chapter?"

She'd only just started the chapter, and it was a decently sized one. Hermione shrugged, but she tightened her hold on the book more. She watched her dad as he gave her an amused look.

John gave a small chuckle, holding his hand out for the book. "You can read more tomorrow." He took the book in hand and looked it over, frowning as he read a few lines before closing it. "Hermione, you shouldn't fill your head with this...this. Why don't you ask Loki to tell you more about himself? There is nothing within these pages that you can trust."

She shrugged awkwardly, "It's not like I can go to Ásgarðr whenever I want and-"

"Since when?!" John laughed as he sat beside her on her bed, placing the book beside him. "You've understood how to jump realms since last Christmas. When you determined that sneaking out after your mother and I went to bed to deliver Loki his Christmas present was a good reason to jump the stars."

Hermione was quiet for a moment as she considered her next words. "I came back before school the next day."

Running his hand over her head, he kissed her forehead. "Yes, and I'm glad that you did. I just wish my little girl would fill me in when she considered travelling long distances like that. Now, bed, sleep, dream~" Tucking her in, John stood up and started for the door.

Sitting back up as he reached for her doorknob, Hermione sat up and pushed the blankets back down, "Daddy, why do people make Loki seem like such a bad guy in their books?"

Dropping his hand, he placed it on his hip, thinking of all the times he had asked himself the same thing. "Well, people often misunderstand him because they don't know the truth about him. Not the way you do. Though, I'll admit that you would know more if you asked more questions." Hermione furrowed her brows. John smiled as she played with a loose thread on her quilt. "Loki is a very complex God. He's not all bad, nor is he all good. He's mischievous by nature but also very clever and loyal."

Her eyes lit up as she remembered the day she met Loki in Ásgarðr. "He helped me find my way home when I got lost in the stars. Before taking me home, we played dress-up and hide-and-seek with the guards!" Reaching out, she lifted the floral wreath from her table and held it gently. "He's nice, Daddy."

John nodded, "He is. And that's why I don't like it when you read this nonsense."

Hermione nodded in agreement, "I don't like it either. But I still want to learn more about him and his adventures."

John chuckled, "Well, there's plenty of time to learn. Maybe you can visit Ásgarðr for longer than a day next time and study under Loki properly. Can you show me again?"

Hermione's face lit up. Turning her palms up, she focused on a spot just above her hands. A delivery blue glow began to surface along her fingers, then swirled into an orb just above her hands, where a bronze nimbus took form around the glowing orb.

"Beautiful. You've gotten good at control, and it's because of all of your meditation." John pulled his daughter into a warm embrace as the orb fizzled out, "Looking at you reaffirms that anything is possible. Just keep working hard, learning and growing. Now, sleep?"

Ducking her head, Hermione scooted into her bed and pulled her blankets up. John gave a slight nod and left his daughter's room before leaning back against the door and sighing with annoyance. He really hated those books.


The amount of history? Mythology? Whatever it was that walked through these doors was overwhelming at times. Loki had been around a few times after returning Hermione to them. It was all for the benefit of Hermione's training, and John was grateful for him. That he would go out of his way to train Hermione. There were occasions when he wondered what ulterior motives Loki might have, being the God of both Lies and Mischief. One didn't just get a Moniker like that by sitting around being pretty. No, John was sure Loki had earned them well, but... he trusted the Norse God too. He honestly trusted him with Hermione, and Hermione adored Loki.

The in-between time of returning her home and his first actual visit was far broader than any times following after that. John had spent months with his daughter, who would try and wait outside for Loki's return, thinking he'd be back maybe a day or two after he'd left. Nearly six months later, he had finally returned to their realm. Helen believed it was because Hermione was too young to start her metaphysical odyssey, but John knew better. The first time Loki had left, he'd seen the discomfort etched across his face. When Hermione cried out his name, Loki's eyes glowed verdant, and John recognised his wish to protect her and all that Hermione was. Children were precious enough as they were, but to Loki, Hermione was a magical child who should be both protected and adequately taught to protect herself.

This was how it was. Loki was Hermione's tutor. Hermione was Loki's protege. Magic was real. Gods existed, or at least Norse Gods existed, to be sure. There were nine realms, and he and his family lived in Miðgard. This was normal. His once Agnostic perception had been horribly torn down by the arrival of Loki. He was sure his wife's Atheist views had also been called to question that night, but they had chosen to leave one another to their thoughts after that meeting.

Speaking of his wife. John tossed the book his daughter had been reading onto the dining room table. "Where did this one come from?"

Helen barely raised her eyes to read the title, "Her school took a trip to the Senate House Library. They were each allowed to pick out a book. Due at the end of the week, Friday, before summer vacation starts the following Tuesday." She picked it up, and Helen looked down the bridge of her nose at the cover. "Hermione is desperately trying to learn what she can in a world ignorant to his truths." She tapped her finger on a random page she'd flipped open, "A deadly enemy, it says."

"Well, he could be."

"Don't give me that, John. If you were worried he was a bad influence on your daughter, you wouldn't let him near her."

"Oh yes," John settled beside his wife as he poured himself a good and robust cuppa."Because I'm a match for a Nordic God, weave left and bob right, yeah?" Inhaling the herbaceous aroma with a soft sigh before taking a sip. Still feeling mildly frustrated with the flawed portrayals of Loki in Miðgardian mythology, he placed his cup down, turned his eyes to his wife, and watched as she continued to take notes for a client of theirs. He and his wife respected the mischievous God for his time and effort with their daughter. "I can't stand these inaccurate portrayals of Loki," practically grumbling like a child with his antipathy. "He's teaching Hermione magic."

Helen smiled, "he's introducing Hermione to magic, her's specifically. Thank the Æsir for that. I'll not have her accidentally setting fire to my tapestries because she's trying out spells beyond her knowledge."

Now he personally thought that would have been delightfully entertaining. "They make him out to be some sort of villain."

"I understand your ire. Loki is such a wonderful tutor and a charming confidante. We don't need to worry about Hermione, though. She will, better than anyone, know who Loki truly is."

Feeling the exhaustion settle in his bones, John took a deep breath, carding his fingers through his hair. "I can't help but worry, though. I know Loki cares for Hermione, but he's not exactly sentimental. I don't want to see her heartbroken if he has to leave her behind, and let's be honest... he will need to one day. She's mortal. She'll pass well before he does."

A sort of sadness lingered in Helen's eyes. "Don't dwell on those thoughts, John. Rather, summer vacation is coming up. Maybe we can discuss the idea of Hermione spending some time in Ásgarðr? Loki mentioned wanting her to stay for a prolonged visit in an autonomous space for her training. He wants to move her past meditation now that she's recognised, manipulated, and maintained the physical shape of her magic for prolonged amounts of time."

John raised a brow. "Are you holding private meetings with the God of Mischief now?"

"Naturally, how could I possibly say 'no' to him? I'm a fan of his work, you know?" She tapped her custom pen she held with the name Loki engraved in Elder Futhark (ᛚᛟᚴᛁ) against the paper she was writing on. "And he's been good to us and to Hermione. Also," giving her husband a tapered look, "I always check in on Hermione's progress after a few months have passed."

John turned his gaze away from his wife's and looked down at his watch. The same name was embossed into the leather straps (ᛚᛟᚴᛁ). "Seeing how he watches out for her, I will follow him till the ends of the Earth." Lifting the book, he flipped it over and eyed it distastefully, "According to this, Loki has no followers." He nearly laughed at the look on his wife's face, "Look, I won't say "no" to her staying in Ásgarðr, but I do have ground rules."

"Oh? What ground rules?"

"You know, basic ones...which..." he watched Helen raise her chin, indicating he had her attention, "...which can be discussed after I've had some time to... fine-tune them." John trailed off.

Helen reached over and took his hand. "We'll work out some ground rules, of course. But I think it could be a wonderful opportunity for Hermione. An adventure like this doesn't come around, ever. I would not deprive our daughter of the experience to learn from Loki."

John smiled, squeezing her hand. "How can I argue with that."


[June 9th, 1986]

Hermione raised her hand in class to answer the question on the board. No one in school talked to her. She was weird, but her teachers liked her. That was all that she cared about. Learning, being the best student, she had to be the best because she was Loki's student. She wanted to be the best. That wasn't difficult, though, not when the students she shared lessons with didn't take the classes seriously the way she did.

Hermione sat down at her desk with a brilliant smile, basking in her teacher's praise. As the last day of school before summer vacation drew close, Hermione couldn't wait to get home and triple-check her backpack for tomorrow. After her dad had informed her last Sunday that she would be embarking on an extended trip to Ásgarðr to start the next part of her studies with Loki, she had packed and re-packed her spare backpack, then done so again every day leading up to her departure.

Bringing her hands down between herself and her desk, Hermione smiled at her fingers, making the tips glow a little. Lost in her thoughts, she was caught off guard when her teacher called her name.

"Hermione,"

Looking up, Hermione's concentration shattered, and the glow faded as she gave her attention to her teacher. "Yes, Mrs. Robertson?"

The woman was dressed in a beige knee-length pencil skirt and floral long-sleeve top tucked in neatly. Her black hair was curled up atop her head in a nice bun, and a pair of glasses sat atop her thin, pointy nose. She lifted her hand and gestured for Hermione to come closer.

As Hermione stood up, she ran her hands over her pleated skirt and walked up to the desk, "Yes, ma'am?"

A small smile slid into place as the woman held out an envelope. "Give this to your parents when you get home. See to it that they get it."

"Am I in trouble?" Hermione asked, her heart racing.

"Oh, no, dear. Quite the contrary. This letter details your good performance and excellent schoolwork," Mrs. Robertson said reassuringly.

Hermione walked briskly on her way home after getting off the bus. Her heart thumped with anticipation. Clutching the envelope tightly in her hand as she made sure not to lose it. Hermione had been dying to open it since she'd been handed the letter. It wasn't addressed to her, however. It was addressed to the Parents or Guardians of Hermione Granger, which meant she couldn't open it.

When she finally arrived home, she ran through the front yard and straight to her parents, eager to share the news that she had received an envelope from her teacher.

"What's this?" John held the envelope in his hand after Hermione had handed it over. Opening it, he eyed his curious daughter as she climbed onto the dining chair beside him to read over his shoulder. Utterly unnecessary as he read the letter aloud to his wife. The letter read as follows:

"To the Parents or Guardians of Hermione Granger,

I hope this letter finds you and your family well. As the Headmistress of St Paul's Girls' School, it is my duty to inform you that Mrs. Robertson, your child's current homeroom teacher, has recommended that your child be allowed to "skip" Year 2 and move directly to Year 3.

Firstly, I would like to congratulate Hermione on her exceptional academic performance. It is evident that she is a bright and talented student who has consistently shown a deep understanding of the curriculum. We believe that she has the potential to thrive in a more challenging environment, and we are excited to explore the possibility of her skipping a grade level.

If you accept this recommendation, Hermione will be placed in Year 3, where she will have the opportunity to learn advanced topics and engage in more rigorous academic activities. This will allow her to further develop her skills and abilities and to interact with students who are at a similar level of academic excellence.

Of course, we understand this is a significant decision, and we want to ensure you have all the information you need to make an informed choice. We would be happy to answer any questions you may have and provide you with additional resources to help you make your decision.

Please let us know if you would like to proceed with this recommendation, and we will work with you to make the necessary arrangements. We are committed to ensuring that Hermione has a safe, supportive, and stimulating learning environment, and we are confident that we can provide her with the best possible education.

Sincerely,

Sarah K. Duff, MBM

Headmistress"

There was a mix of expressions; excitement and concern were but two. Accelerating a child a grade was another amazing opportunity for Hermione, but it needed to be carefully considered. Her parents recognised that with her profound interest in magic and taking her lessons with Loki to the next level, a standard education may not be in her future. Thus, they needed to realistically assess all the factors before deciding. They sat down with Hermione and discussed the pros and cons of accelerating a grade, considering her academic and social-emotional needs. Hermione wanted to do it. No questions asked she was ready to go.

"Are you sure you're prepared for this, Hermione?" her mother asked. "Skipping a grade is a big step, and we don't want you to feel overwhelmed."

"I'm ready, Mom," Hermione replied confidently. "I want to be challenged, and this is...maybe...the best way to do it."

"Maybe?" Her father chimed in, "That sounds very reassuring. We need to ensure you'll still have a good social life. You don't want to be the youngest in your class and feel left out."

Hermione nodded thoughtfully. She didn't, however, have anything to say to that. No one liked her in her current classes. Why would she think changing classes would help? She didn't, but that was fine for her. She had her parents, and she had Loki! Who else at school could say they had a real God on their side?!

They discussed the pros and cons, weighing the benefits of accelerating a grade against the potential drawbacks, considering everything from academic performance to emotional maturity to social skills. After much deliberation, they came to a decision.

"You will be in Ásgarðr for roughly five weeks. While you are there, please consider what we discussed today carefully. This is your future, and your father and I will support you no matter your decision. When you return from your training, you will have five remaining weeks of vacation left before your next school term starts, and we can make sure everything is in order during that time."

Hermione nodded. She still thought she wanted to skip a grade if it meant being better than the rest of her age group.


[June 10th, 1986]

Loki was mildly surprised. When he'd last spoken to Helen about Hermione staying longer in Ásgarðr, he had expected a resounding 'no'. Of course, he had been speaking in jest... sort of. True that he wished to move on with her training, and Miðgard was hardly the place for a mortal to practice her sorcery. He had known mortals to slaughter their own for such gifts, and he would have none of that. Hermione was a rare treasure in the sea of mediocre and average. When he arrived two a week ago, he had not expected John to pull him aside and talk to him about a five-week stay. He was indeed quite dumbfounded, though he would rather be feasted on by a Jotunheimensi than allow mortals to see him as such. Peering up at the darkness above, the twinkling stars glittering from the field where they stood.

"Are you ready, Sundrop?" Hermione's mother asked as she held out a bag.

Blushing at the nickname, Hermione pulled at a lock of her hair, "Yeah, I'm ready."

Helen stepped back as John walked forward and locked his eyes with his daughter. "Rules, one more time."

Rolling her eyes, she glanced back at Loki, who raised a brow, ever so curious. Turning her attention to her dad, she began rattling off the arbitrary rules he'd made for her summer trip to Ásgarðr. "Do not wander off alone or touch anything I'm uncertain of without permission first. Respect Ásgarðrian culture, customs and traditions. Be mindful of my magic. Don't accept drinks from anyone I don't know. Keep my room tidy...and have fun. I got it, Dad."

Loki grinned mischievously at the family gathered before him, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Before we embark on our voyage to Ásgarðr, Sundrop, allow me to impart some essential guidelines to ensure our journey is as smooth as possible."

While her parents shared looks of curiosity, keen to hear what the charismatic God had to say. Hermione, Loki's protege, gave him a knowing look, silently urging him to be serious for once. It, of course, was a waste of a facial expression, and she knew it. One did not spend precious time understanding the ways of magic with Loki and not come to understand this one definitive characteristic of his. He was, first and foremost, playful by nature.

Loki leaned close to Hermione, catching her eyes as he did, a conspiratorial glint gleaming a familiar lush glow. "Listen up, little one. Ásgarðr may seem like a wondrous place, but it's not without its pitfalls. Firstly, and this is important, never, ever steal or hide Heimdall's sword. Trust me, I've tried it before, and it's hardly worth the trouble. No matter how tempting it might be." He chuckled at the memory, a sly smirk playing on his lips. "And if you happen to come across the All-Father and find him taking his daily nap, I suggest you let him be. He needs his beauty sleep to rule Ásgarðr properly, after all." Loki's tone was severe, but a hint of mischief lurked beneath the surface. "But that's not all. If you think you can challenge me to a game of strategy, let me warn you now, you will lose...badly...again." His eyes sparkled with amusement as he spoke, reminiscing about the handful of times he'd played Chess with the young Miðgardian.

"Is there anything else she should be aware of?" John asked, thoroughly entertained by the God's guidelines.

Loki paused for a moment, pretending to ponder the question. "Ah, yes, of course." He snapped his fingers as if trying to recall something important. "No drinking the mead, no fighting in the halls, and absolutely no shenanigans on the Bifrost. It's a dreadfully long fall into an endless void of nothingness. And don't even think about sneaking off into the vaults...not without me," he added in a low voice, a mischievous glint in his eye.

A damn of laughter finally broke free from the child as she had tried desperately to keep it together. Despite himself, he couldn't help his own smile forming as he watched her fail miserably to contain her lyrical giggles at his warnings. Watching as she tightened her grip on her bag, Hermione was moving from one foot to the other in a familiar tell. He recognised it as one of the things she did when she felt nervous, but her sparkling eyes told a different tale. So clearly, she was ready to take on this new adventure. Loki held his hand to her and guided her towards where the Bifrost would take them to Ásgarðr.

Always taking care to move while it was late at night in Miðgard, they were surrounded by shadows and the occasional sound of wildlife in the distance. Long since had they found a safe place for the Bifrost to drop him off and pick him up at. Having enveloped the area in illusions so delicately woven, it was nearly imperceptible to even the most magically trained eye. Truthfully, he was confident that no mere mortals would ever find this place without him letting them, which was unlikely ever to happen.

"Are you ready for this, Hermione?" Loki asked, his tone severe but with the barest trace of tenderness. He doted on the young Miðgardian, taking her under his wing and guiding her in the ways of sorcery. It was a responsibility he took very seriously, surprisingly so. Even to himself, it had stunned him how much he had wanted to teach and show her the ways of her magic. Perhaps, his reasons were selfish. Being idolised was its own reward. He could not refute the validity of that much darker secret.

Hermione nodded eagerly from beside him, a broad smile on her face. She couldn't wait to start her adventure in Ásgarðr with Loki as her guide. Her heart raced with anticipation as Loki wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close.

"Hold on tight. You do not want to be lost within the Bifrost."

Loki called out to Heimdall, "Open the Bifrost!" The ancient runes flared to life from the last time they'd been scorched into the field, and a bridge materialised around them. The air crackled with electricity as they were swept away with one last breath. Hermione's wild and untamable curls whipped around her face, brushing along her shoulders as they hurtled towards Ásgarðr.

As Loki and Hermione landed, Loki turned to face Heimdall, who gave him a disapproving stare. "What's the matter, old friend?" Loki asked, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

Heimdall's gaze was unwavering as he spoke, "You were the one who stole my sword?" His hand was gripping tightly to the hilt of the blade he held.

Loki chuckled, patting Hermione on the shoulder to let her know she could relax. "Who else but I could have pulled off such a feat?" he replied, his voice practically dripping with pride. "Let this be a lesson; never turn your back on your blade when so many are in your presence."

Heimdall's eyes narrowed, "What would you have done if there had been an attack on—"

"There wasn't," he cut the all-seeing, all-hearing God off before he could say anything that might cause worry to settle in his ward. Breathing a careful breath of air, Loki continued, "It was meant only to amuse, not anger. I recall returning your blade to you not even a day later. No damage done." He placed a hand on Hermione's shoulder and steered her forward so as not to be in his shadow.

Heimdall's expression softened, "I will admit that your cunning never ceases to amaze me, Loki. However, I cannot condone your actions."

Loki grinned, "Ah, but where's the joy with invariably playing by the rules, Heimdall? Life's too short not to stir up a little trouble now and then."

Heimdall shook his head, "I fear that your deviant nature will be your downfall one day, Loki."

Loki shrugged, "Perhaps. But until then, let's enjoy the chaos."

Hermione watched the banter between the two with a smile. Looking around, Hermione approached Heimdall with curiosity. She had long wondered what it was like to see things the way he did but had never had the chance to ask. With all their talking, she supposed starting a conversation now would be easier than waiting for another opportunity to present itself. Heimdall finally took his eyes off Loki and turned them towards Hermione, who had moved to stand before him. "Heimdall," she spoke in a way that made it sound almost as if she were still thinking of what she wanted to say or how to say it. Taking another moment, she asked, "Can you describe to me the nine realms? Miðgardians know nothing of what is true and what is not; the books are all wrong too."

Heimdall seemed to consider her request before he nodded and closed his eyes briefly, focusing his senses on the different realms. Heimdall's vision was clear and sharp, allowing him to see far beyond the realms that mere mortals could comprehend.

He began to describe what he saw, starting with the realm of Ásgarðr, home to the mighty gods and goddesses. He spoke of the grand halls and towering structures adorned with glittering gold and silver. The air was filled with trumpets and the chatter of the gods, who were always busy with their divine duties. Hermione, of course, was familiar with it. Many accidental jumps across the realms had led her to Ásgarðr, so she was accustomed to the towering celestial kingdom.

Moving on to the realm of Vanaheim, Heimdall told her of the lush and verdant land filled with towering trees and shimmering lakes. It was a peaceful place inhabited by the Vanir Gods of old. He spoke of the sweet scent of blooming flowers and the gentle rustling of leaves in the breeze. From there, Heimdall took Hermione to the realm of Jotunheim, home to the fearsome giants. He described the harsh and unforgiving landscape, with towering mountains and icy winds that cut like knives. He spoke of the giant's lairs carved into the sides of the mountains and the brutal battles that had long ago taken place between them and the gods.

Loki chuckled, "We can discuss the history of the nine realms, too, during your stay."

Hermione nodded, hopeful to learn all she could of the other realms. She continued to listen to Heimdall as he described each realm in intricate detail, from the fiery Muspelheim to the dark and foreboding Niflheim. He spoke of the creatures that roamed the lands, from the majestic unicorns of Alfheim to the terrifying beasts of Svartalfheim.

Filled with wonder and awe, Hermione was sure her eyes were sparkling. She felt she was genuinely glimpsing the nine realms for the first time, and each one was more incredible than the last. When Heimdall had finished, she thanked him for sharing his vision with her and walked back to Loki's patiently waiting side.

With a grand gesture, Loki began his descent down the lengthy path of the Bifrost, leading to a magnificent horse that patiently awaited their arrival. "Come, Hermione," he said, extending a helping hand to guide her onto the horse. Once she was safely situated, he carefully secured her bag to the horse's back before taking his place behind her. "Take a moment to look around you," he instructed, urging the horse forward. "What do you see?"

As they slowly made their way across the shimmering bridge, Hermione took in the breathtaking view. "It's like stardust," she whispered, "with every colour of the rainbow. And there's this powerful aura that radiates from it."

Loki smiled in agreement. "Yes, this bridge represents the connection between the mortal and divine realms. All nine of them," he confirmed. "It symbolises the unity of all things, the harmony between gods and mortals, the power of magic and imagination. This bridge is a constant reminder that anything is possible. There are no limits to what can be achieved if one has the means and ambition."

Hermione listened intently, eager to learn more. "It's a beacon of hope and inspiration," Loki continued, "a symbol of the infinite possibilities that lie before us. And it is our duty as gods to protect and uphold this connection, to ensure that all realms remain in balance."

She nodded, fully absorbed in his words. "Truly?" she asked, looking up at him wide-eyed.

"Truly," Loki replied, gazing out across the expanse of the Bifrost. "My mother taught me this when I was young and has stayed with me ever since. It's a lesson that I hope to pass down to future generations to ensure that the sacred bond between our worlds remains unbroken." Snapping the reins along the horse, it started towards Ásgarðr swiftly along the bridge.

Not long into their arrival, Loki slowed down and let Hermione take in the streets of Ásgarðr, regaling her with tales of his and Thor's exploits and the city's wonders. Hermione lifted her hand, "can we go there?" Not far from where they stood was a beautiful and serene orchard in the heart of Ásgarðr. Even from where Hermione stood gazing at the trees, she could smell the sweet fragrance of ripe apples, wet leaves, and crisp Ásgarðrian air. The surrounding area was filled with lush greenery, vibrant flowers, and tall trees that looked to have born the most stunning golden apples. Hermione made out the sound of birds chirping in the distance, though she couldn't see any birds from where she and Loki stood. Turning around, she looked up at Loki, who was staring off in the direction she'd pointed. A look of a most deviant nature had formed in his eyes and on his lips.

Chuckling, Loki placed his hand at Hermione's wild curls, saying, "I'm not exactly the most beloved individual in that particular domain. But what's life without a little bit of chaos, am I right?"

Hermione's eyes gave off a familiar glint, and she smiled at Loki. "Right!"


Frigga and Odin's eyes met as they stood in the throne room, waiting for Loki's return. The All-Father's expression was grim, and the All-Mother was visibly uneasy. "Where is he?" Frigga finally asked.

Odin heaved a great sigh, waving a hand off towards the windows. "He's still out with his mortal. Hermione will be a guest in Ásgarðr for the next five weeks."

Raising a finely sculpted brow, Frigga moved within reach of Odin as he met her with a large warm hand on her waist, "And why do you allow this?"

"I don't like the idea of a mortal being in our realm. However, Loki does not ask for much in the way of being a son. Moreover, he's teaching her magic."

Frigga's expression softened, "You do care, my love." Odin would probably never know just how much his words pleased her. "Do not fret so, for Loki is, before all else, a thoughtful and clever young man as he was raised to be by his father. He wouldn't do anything that could damage the balance in Ásgarðr or harm its people."

Odin nodded. "I trust Loki to handle the situation with care. During his visits over the last two years, he has been showing her ways to connect with her magic."

"Hermione," She smiled, charmed by the Miðgardian child whom she'd met many times during her travels across the stars. Even as Loki taught her on Miðgard, Hermione occasionally found her way back to Ásgarðr without help. Her magic was clearly able to bypass the Bifrost altogether, and whenever she so pleased, it would seem. Not that Frigga had a problem with it. She had found her a delight to be around, enjoying tea and dining with her children and the young Hermione, who took the opportunity to converse amongst them. "We will welcome her with open arms."

Odin chuckled, "You sound excited."

Frigga turned her eyes to gaze out the window, "Perhaps," Frigga playfully nudged him in the arm, "Don't get too comfortable, All-Father. Dinner will be soon." Standing close by, Fulla moved beside Frigga, who turned to her. "Has the guest room been prepared adequately?" Frigga asked Fulla, her most trusted confidante.

"Yes, mistress," Fulla replied. "A couple of gowns have been prepared for the young Lady Hermione and some training garments, per Prince Loki's request."

Frigga nodded, though her countenance carried a look of consideration before looking up at Fulla, "I think you're mistaken. Loki would have requested mage robes to be prepared for her, not so much Ásgarðrian training wears. Something light, preferably."

"I will see that the proper garments are prepared," Fulla promised.

"Thank you," Frigga said, nodding. "I will go and see if—"

Thor burst into the grand throne room, his chest heaving and sweat glistening on his skin. His face was alight with pride and excitement as he made his way to his parents, Frigga and Odin. Frigga looked at her son disapprovingly as Odin beamed at him. "What brings you here, my son?" Odin asked.

"I have just come from the training grounds," Thor replied proudly. "I have been pushing myself to my limits and beyond, testing my strength and endurance. Proudly, I have left the Warriors Three and Lady Sif too tired to continue our spar today."

Frigga's lips twitched in amusement. "Yes, we can see that," she said, casting a critical eye over him. "Perhaps you should shower before dinner."

Thor's face fell for a moment before he shrugged it off. "This is the sweat of a true warrior, Mother," he said, grinning. "It's the kind that only the strongest Ásgarðrians can produce. Look," He leaned into the sun's beams that sifted through the windows, "it makes me sparkle like a sunstone!"

If she were not a more graceful woman, Frigga would have rolled her eyes at his genuine satisfaction. However, she couldn't help but smile. "Yes, but I noticed it also brings with it a certain aroma that I would rather not discuss," she said, waving him off. "We have a guest arriving soon, so please clean yourself up."

Thor's curiosity was piqued. "Who is our guest?" he asked eagerly.

Frigga shook her head. "You shall find out at dinner," she said, ushering him out of the room.

As Thor left, Odin chuckled. "He reminds me of myself when I was his age," he said, a twinkle in his eye. Frigga laughed, shaking her head. "Gods help us all," she said, though there was affection in her voice. Odin led her to his throne, where he allowed her to rest. Frigga sat in contemplation, her thoughts turning to their upcoming guest. She couldn't help but feel a little nostalgic for the days when Hela was still around. While she'd not been her birth child, she was Odin's daughter, and that was enough for Frigga. Though she'd admit, if he ever chose another woman to bed while she still breathed life, again, Frigga couldn't be sure of what she would do to her beloved. Ah, such thoughts. She could do without them.

Odin seemed to know her heart well and her mind as he reached his hand out and gave hers a slight squeeze. She rested her head on his forearm and relaxed by his side. Lost in thought, Frigga didn't notice as Thor re-entered the room or that another hour had passed without a word from Loki.

"There, is that better?" he asked, striking a heroic pose.

Lifting her eyes to see him, Frigga couldn't help but smile at her eldest son's antics. Though Thor was looking much cleaner and more presentable, that was an improvement. "Much better, my son," she said, her voice warm and affectionate.

Fulla entered the throne room, "Your Majesties," she bowed, "Prince Loki has returned."


The maid who had left to inform the All-Father of their arrival had returned only to escort Hermione to her room. As far as six-year-old Hermione Granger was concerned, looked to be fit for a king or queen. The walls were adorned with intricate carvings of mythical creatures and tales of Ásgarðrian lore, most, if not all, of these creatures she'd never seen. The bed was made up of the finest silk, and draped around it from the ceiling above was a deep blue sheer canopy. Moving closer to the bed, Hermione placed a hand on the silk blankets and ran them up and over the plump and soft pillows. The sheets folded over the silken veils felt like they were of the highest quality woven cotton. Looking down, she stared at the fur rug lying at the side of her bed, adding to the luxurious feel of the room.

When she turned around, she focused on a large armoire standing against one wall, crafted from sturdy wood, nothing like the furniture at home. She knew this could only be found in the forests of Ásgarðr. Moving to the armoire, she pulled open the doors, and her eyes widened significantly. Inside, there were robes and garments fit for royalty. Royalty, she was not. Rather, she was only an apprentice. Hermione closed the armoire and stepped back. Across the room sat a writing desk by the window, overlooking a stunning view of the realm and its parted skyline. A quill and inkwell were waiting for the room's guest to jot down their thoughts atop the desk.

In one corner, a small sitting area was arranged with comfortable chairs and a small table. The chairs are upholstered with a soft, light blue fabric, and the table was made of a shimmering, iridescent crystal. Unlike anything she'd ever seen, Hermione leaned in close and watched the swirls within the crystal table move about captivatingly.

The room itself was lit by glowing orbs of light that seemed to float in mid-air but out of the line of sight so as not to obstruct the visitor's space. The amber glow cast a warm and magical brilliance over everything. The air was infused with a subtle scent of lavender and vanilla, creating a calming and peaceful atmosphere. Overall, the bedroom was a stunning example of Ásgarðrian craftsmanship and design. Easily, it was fit for a God but welcomed all guests with open arms. She was a guest. She was not a Queen, a Princess, or a Goddess; Hermione understood this and recognised that she was being treated very well. She was a guest. However, she was Prince Loki's guest, which had garnered her such treatment. Nodding, Hermione turned to the maid, who patiently awaited her to finish her tour before holding a hand out to her.

"A bath has been prepared, Lady Hermione. This way, please."

She followed her inside and was surprised when the woman started to assist her with undressing. It was awkward and uncomfortable, but she wasn't sure if she should say anything. Her father had been inflexible with those so-called rules of his. Would it be rude of her to say something? Stepping into the warm water, she reached for the rag, but it was taken before her fingers could graze it. "I can bathe myself," Hermione tried, but the maid ignored her. Submerging her head halfway under the water, she blew bubbles irritably as she was scrubbed clean by the maid.

Distracting herself by playing with her now wet curls, Hermione watched them bounce in front of her eyes, suds floating by her nose. Her hair, with its wild curls, was always challenging to manage, but she was determined to make a good impression. Sitting straight in the bath, she pulled on a curl before letting it go, watching it return to its natural coil. "Can you put my hair up or something? It's always so messy."

The hands washing her stalled for but a moment before continuing. "Lady Hermione is perplexing. You've such captivating hair. Unlike anything you are likely to find in Ásgarðr. You have these beautiful, warm, golden brown locks. Feral and natural, unrestrained. Such are your cascading and chaotic curls. They seem to have a life of their own." She stood and pulled a robe from a table, "These are your precious curls, Lady Hermione, do not turn your eyes away from their exquisite coils. With each strand intertwining and spiralling like a dance, alive, swaying and shifting with each move you make. Never doubt the majesty of your ringlets, m'lady."

Well, she wasn't about to argue with the woman. Hermione stepped out of the bath as the maid helped her dry and dress. She showed Hermione a couple of options before Hermione decided on a beautiful Ásgarðrian dress. Made of a deep blue fabric, adorned with silver embroidery that shimmered in the light. The dress was flowy, made of layers of gossamer blue and silver cloth that swirled about her ankles as she walked. Then there was the cape. It was a light material, like liquid to the touch, shifting between Hermione's fingertips as she lifted it to investigate further. There was a shimmer of luminaries that were woven together. The edges were lined with silver thread, and the clasp was a delicate silver tree, Yggdrasil, the World Tree. That she recognised! The Yggdrasil was in all of the books on Norse Mythology.

Twirling around in front of the mirror, admiring her new dress, Hermione thought of the flora wreath she'd left behind on her dresser at home. With her wild curls more defined than previously, she was ready to join her mentor for a night of feasting and fun with his family. Still, a small part of her thought of that wreath that she'd played dress up with her father over the last two years. No, she didn't need it. She wanted it, though. Watching in the mirror, the maid behind her adjusted her curls over her shoulder neatly before ushering her to the door.


Loki stood outside Hermione's door, patiently awaiting his protege. As the door opened, he greeted her warmly, watching her spin around excitedly. "You look charming, Hermione!" he remarked, offering his arm to her. "I shall be your escort tonight."

As they made their way to the dining hall, Loki engaged Hermione in conversation. "Right, so, tell me, Hermione, what are you looking forward to most in your stay here? Your mother called it something when we last spoke. Camp, was it?"

Hermione laughed and shook her head. "Camp Ásgarðr - it's more of a joke. Camps are where parents send their kids when school is out so that they aren't being lazy all summer. Honestly, I'm not fond of camps. Oh, but I am excited to be in Ásgarðr! Will we be practising actual magic finally?"

Loki's mischievous grin grew wider as he led Hermione around a grand parapet made of an unknown stone. "Yes, and I would hope you are eager to learn. Lessons in Ásgarðr will be harder than those we partook in while on Miðgard. Meditation will still take place both in the morning and before bed, but you will start the next step in your training tomorrow. So be ready to start learning the ancient art of seiðr," he said.

Hermione's curiosity was piqued. "Seiðr is how magic is called in Ásgarðr?" she asked.

"Indeed, it is," Loki confirmed. Stopping momentarily as a few patrols strolled past them, he followed with his eyes before returning to his conversation with Hermione. "seiðr is a broad term for the many different magics in Ásgarðr. Some of these were practised by a group of Ásgarðrians who made a home on Miðgard and passed it on to what Miðgardians called Vikings and Völva. That specific branch could be used for healing and divination. In Ásgarðr, we take magic very seriously. We have a much greater grip on our natural forces than Miðgardians do. While we all have the ability to use seiðr, not all of us do. So Ásgarðrian Sorcerors are hailed highly for their craft. It's an integral part of our culture and way of life, though the number of mages in Ásgarðr is not so many to compare with the warriors. Worry not; I'll take it easy on you. We'll start with the basics," Loki assured her.

Hermione's eyes lit up with excitement. "It all sounds amazing! I can't wait to learn more about it." During her training sessions on Miðgard with Loki, if she were to call them that... she'd eagerly soaked in everything he taught her. Every detail he was willing to impart on her, from meditation to her control over moulding the shape of her magic. Well, shaping her magic, to be more specific. With a flick of her hand, she demonstrated a learned proficiency in controlling her magic, which came from roughly a year and a half of meditation. True, it wasn't much, but Loki had wanted her to take it slow. He told her that familiarising herself with her magic was the best thing she could ever learn to do. Creating a glowing orb of indigo energy that shimmered with a bronze nimbus, she really loved the bronze dusting of shimmer around the orb. It was so pretty. As she marvelled at its beauty, she couldn't help but wonder what was next. Shaking her head, she let the orb fade away. No point in wondering; tomorrow, she would see it for herself. After all, Loki always demonstrated what he would teach her before teaching her. Though, that wouldn't stop her from asking...

Loki smiled as he listened to Hermione's eager queries. Like a sponge, soaking up everything he had to say. He could see the thirst for knowledge in her eyes, filling him with a sense of elation. He was glad to have found a pupil with whom he could share his passion for sorcery. "Ah, so many questions, my young apprentice," he said, his voice trickling with charm. "You remind me of myself when I was your age, always curious about the world around me, always seeking to know more."

Hermione grinned, happy to be compared to the God of mischief. "I just want to learn everything I can about seiðr," she said eagerly.

Feeling as if he'd taken home a tiny creature with how jittery she was, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Of course, of course. I am happy to teach you. But first, we must start with the basics. You must learn to control your magic, to bend it to your will."

Hermione nodded, her expression serious. "I know, I know. Still, I can't help being curious about all the things I can do with seiðr. Like, can I use it in battle? Can I make things appear out of thin air? You would make illusions while telling me stories! Will you show me how? Can you heal with seiðr? Can you use it to fly?"

Loki chuckled, shaking his head. "Slow down, young one. We'll get there eventually. I know it can feel like we're moving too slowly. I hope, however, that you can trust me and know that everything will come together soon. You have the potential to create magic beyond your wildest dreams, and with practice and patience, we'll get there."

Hermione raised her head and looked up at Loki, feeling reassured. She knew she could be impulsive at times, but she trusted Loki to guide her. "I just want to be the best I can be," she said earnestly.

His eyes softened. Now that was familiar. A nasty voice tried to find his attention, but he quickly pushed it back and away. Placing his hand on her shoulder before kneeling in front of her, kneeling, an act he'd never let his family or his people see him commit. "Hermione, as long as you commit yourself to your lessons, you will be the best you can be. You have a genuine talent for seiðr, and with my guidance, you will become a Sorceress of unparalleled mastery."

Hermione beamed, "I'll work hard!"

"That's what I wanted to hear, Sundrop."

"No~!"

"Starshine?"

"Loki!"

"No? I was sure those were the pet names your parents had so cleverly devised."

She raised her hands to hide the burning flush along her cheeks, "Don't poke fun at me!"

"Right, right, then... " he held his arm once he stood tall again, "shall we continue on our way to the dining hall, Princess?"

Ducking her head, she took his arm, but the remainder of the walk was done in comparative tranquillity as he smirked in triumph unbeknownst to Hermione. However, this didn't prevent Loki from pointing out the grandeur structures of the palace as he guided her. He watched her eyes light up at some of the embellishments of Ásgarðr she'd never taken the time to enjoy or was, at the time, too young to understand the story behind. Lingering near a parapet, taking in the sight of the stunning realm of Ásgarðr from where they stood. A breathtaking view of the city below and the skies above parted with night and day. By the time they arrived at the dining hall, Hermione was practically bursting with excitement and...much to Loki's amusement, uncertainty. Placing a hand on her shoulder to calm her down, Loki nodded for the guards to open the doors. He could hear her as she took a deep breath, shaky, ill-controlled. He would need to help her master her facial expressions and emotions better. Not right now, though. He enjoyed messing with her entirely too much to teach her how to close herself off just yet.


Used to dining with Loki and Frigga, and occasionally Thor, it was the first for her to dine with Odin, the All-Father. Hermione smoothed out her dress; though unnecessary, it helped calm her down. Odin was already seated at the head of the table, his long white beard flowing over his chest. He looked every bit like the wise and powerful ruler of Ásgarðr she was used to seeing. As Hermione and Loki took their seats, Odin greeted them warmly.

Frigga lifted her hand as Loki came to her side and greeted her as he always did, taking her hand in his, a gentle squeeze and a warm smile. He sat between his mother and Hermione, who was immediately drawn into a side hug from Thor, who had stood long enough to greet his brother and deliver a mighty bone-crushing hug to Hermione. Thankfully, not quite so bone-crushing. Still, she loved his hugs. Unlike Loki, who kept a respectable air around himself, Thor had no problem acting like the large, robust teddy bear that he was. Hermione soaked it up like the sponge that she was often compared to.

"Hermione! I had no idea you would be joining us. What a delightful surprise!" Thor's voice boomed with excitement as he greeted his unexpected guest. Moving his plate to the seat on the other side of Hermione, he didn't catch the look of humour which seemed to cross most of the inhabitants at the table. All but Hermione had noticed he'd moved seats to sit beside her. "Has Loki told you of our adventure in Alfheim? You should have been there with us!"

Nearly choking on the drink he'd only just taken from his goblet, Loki placed the silver cup down and turned his eyes to meet his brothers. "I'm sorry, Thor, but I can't see how that could have ended in anything but a disaster," said Loki as he generously piled delicious fare onto Hermione's plate.

Thor waved Loki off with a hearty laugh, standing and posing for Hermione as he embellished his account of what ensued. "We battled a Cthulhu that was so enormous; its tentacles could wrap around the entirety of Ásgarðr!" He gestured wildly with his hands, emphasising the size of their foe. His mother and father watched with mild amusement, listening to him recount the tale once more for the benefit of their young guest.

Loki couldn't resist interjecting as he rolled his eyes. "Oh please, brother. You exaggerate, as always. The creature was large, but not that large."

Thor shot Loki a playful glare before continuing his tale with a smile. "It was a fierce battle, my dear Hermione. The Warriors Three and Lady Sif fought valiantly by our side. But together, Loki and I managed to slay the beast with a coordinated attack that left it lying defeated at our feet. The feeling of victory was indescribable! By the end, we were all covered in the creature's blood and innards. And let me tell you, Hermione, there was a revel for days! Laughter, drinking, and dancing... this is the truest way of a warrior of Ásgarðr!"

Interjecting with a sly grin, "Yes, and then you proceeded to boast about it for days on end as if it were the greatest accomplishment of your life before finally passing out from drinking too much mead from your day's on-end revel." He shook his head, cutting into the meat on his plate before taking a bite. Watching Hermione as she kept one ear open while trying to find her way through the mountain atop her plate.

"Well, it was quite the feat. I couldn't have done it without the help of my companions...and my brother. We truly make a formidable team, brother."

Loki took a sip from his goblet, a slight tinge of pink settling atop his cheeks as he scoffed. "Ah, yes, the mighty Thor and his trusty sidekick," he remarked impishly. "Do try not to forget, dearest brother, who is always there to pick up the pieces when you inevitably go charging into battle without a plan."

Thor grinned good-naturedly, "Yes, I am aware of my faults, and that is why you are always there to help see me through, brother. None other can I count on, as I can you, to catch me when I fall."

A note of genuine affection crept into Thor's voice. "Truly, Loki, there is no one I would rather have by my side in battle than you."

Loki raised an eyebrow, devilishly impish in his reply. "Such sentimentality, brother. You will have me flee to my room for the better half of a millennium if you continue to speak such rosy words."

Thor chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. "Do you scare so easily?"

"Only when I am faced with your attempts at poetic tongue," Loki quipped, a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

The banter between the two brothers continued, much to the amusement of Hermione, Frigga and Odin, who had all listened and watched the scene unfold.

While heavily entertained by their playful back and forth, Hermione had been quite captivated by Thor's tale. "It sounds like an incredible adventure," she said. "I wish I could have been there to see it myself."

Thor grinned. "Perhaps one day you will, Hermione. You are always welcome to join us on our travels."

"Thor, my son, you would do well to remember that Hermione is not only mortal but still just a child," Odin could sense Hermione's eagerness to delve deeper into the ways of Ásgarðr, specifically, sorcery. Such fervour could be potentially life-threatening concerning his foolhardy son. While he wasn't concerned about her being in the presence of Loki, she may just feed Thor's arrogance in a way that could prove to be volatile for everyone. He smiled knowingly and began to speak again, "Hermione, you have come to learn the ways of seiðr. My son, Loki, is a master in the arts of sorcery and, from what I can see, an astute teacher. I do not doubt that you will flourish under his tutelage. You have already learned to recognise your seiðr, yes?"

Hermione's eyes widened as the All-Father spoke to her. She listened intently to Odin's words before carefully choosing her own, "Loki has been teaching me to meditate and communicate with my seiðr," she said. "I can recognise the pull of it and hold it in a physical shape while focusing."

Odin's eyes glittered with approval as he watched Hermione's progress. "Well done, child. You now have the most basic control of your magic," he said, nodding in satisfaction. He turned to Loki, who sat beside Hermione, and asked, "How has she been faring in her studies on Miðgard?"

Loki's voice was calm and reassuring as he spoke. "She has been an excellent student, Father. She shows great promise in her ability to control her seiðr and is always eager to learn more. However, as she is mortal, I have decided not to continue her lessons while she remains on Miðgard. It is too dangerous for her to practice her seiðr there, and I would not want her to come to any harm."

Hermione felt a pang of disappointment at Loki's words. She had been enjoying her lessons and was eager to learn more. But she understood the risks involved and knew that Loki was only looking out for her safety.

Loki noticed her expression and held up a hand to reassure her. "Do not fret, Hermione. I have come to an understanding with your parents. While on Miðgard, you will focus on your mortal lessons and continue practising meditation and control. Then, when your mortal lessons are complete, you will return to Ásgarðr for further training in seiðr."

Hermione felt a wave of relief wash over her. She had been worried for a second that she would be denied further lessons.

Loki turned to Odin, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. "Besides, Father, I would not want my pupil to be burned at the stake simply because she can make illusions or perform so-called acts of miracles. That would be rather counterproductive, don't you think?"

A deep rumble echoed through the room as Odin chuckled. "Indeed, my son. It would not be the best outcome. But I have faith in Hermione's abilities. With your guidance, she will become a master of her craft."

Loki smiled at his father's words, the pride evident in his expression. "I do not doubt that, Father. Hermione is a quick learner and a dedicated student. She will do us proud."

Hermione felt a warm glow of happiness at Loki's words. There was a strange feeling inside of her; whenever she was at home, it always felt like something was pulling at her. That was often how she ended up crossing the stars. Yet she felt at ease, secure, and surprisingly tranquil here. She didn't have this constant urge to run off into the stars. If she had to describe the feeling, she'd call it belonging.

Taking a drink from his mead, his gaze returned to Hermione. "You have much to realise, Hermione. Sorcery is not for the faint of heart. But I know that you will rise to the challenge."

Hermione felt a chill run down her spine at Odin's words, but she was determined to prove herself. "I am ready for whatever challenges come my way, Your Highness," she said, her voice steady. She could feel the eyes of Loki, Thor and Frigga all on her. Watching her. Suddenly feeling very self-aware, she tightened her fingers into the fabric of her dress, though she maintained eye contact with the All-Father until he finally gave a slight nod.

Loki interposed, sensing Hermione's distress. "Father, let us not intimidate my protege. Hermione is eager to learn, and we should encourage her."

Rather than argue Loki's point, Odin chuckled. His eyes twinkled with merriment. "Very well, Loki. But remember, Hermione, sorcery is a powerful tool. Use it wisely."

Taking in Odin's words, Hermione smiled, "I will use it respectfully and responsibly." She was determined to make Ásgarðr proud and become proficient in sorcery like Loki was. She nodded eagerly.

A small chuckle came from beside her, and she looked as Thor piled more food on her plate. She cried out in surprise at the heap in front of her. "Where do you expect me to put all this!?"

"Naturally, you will eat it," Thor threw back his head as he finished what was left of his drink. Slamming it down on the table, he broke the air of nervousness surrounding Hermione as he bellowed, "Another!" Taking a bite from whatever beast the meat-covered bone in his hand came from before striking up a conversation with his mother.

Shaking her head, Hermione decidedly tried everything Thor had loaded her plate with, devouring her favourites but still unable to finish everything. Slipping between conversations with Loki on seiðr and Thor on his harrowing adventures. Only when Odin stood did she realise how late it had gotten. Rising from his seat, he stepped around the table and placed a hand on Hermione's shoulder, "It has been a pleasure to dine with you, Hermione," he said. "I look forward to seeing you progress in your lessons."

Hermione bowed her head respectfully as she maintained eye contact with the All-Father. "Thank you, Your Highness. I will do my best to make Ásgarðr proud." As he left, the doors closed with a resounding thump.

Frigga looked over at Hermione with a soft smile, her heart swelling with pride as she patted the seat beside her. "Come, child, sit with me," she beckoned. Hermione quickly stood and switched seats, feeling a sense of comfort as the All-Mother pulled her in for a warm embrace. Fingers playing with her curls as she did.

"You are growing up so quickly, my dear Hermione," Frigga cooed, brushing her wild bangs aside and admiring how tall she had become. "I can hardly believe it myself. You could easily curl up in Loki's arms when we first met you. Make no mistake, if not for his pride, he would have undoubtedly carried you everywhere."

Hermione felt the colour rise in her cheeks as Thor recounted her first time in Ásgarðr.

"What are you talking about, mother? He did carry her everywhere. I still sometimes think back on it. Such a precious scene, my brother the nursemaid and his sweet little Mione."

Hermione knew this story mostly but didn't care for its retelling. The thought of it absolutely mortified her.

Loki, meanwhile, was growing increasingly agitated. He looked as if he was plotting Thor's untimely end while he finished off his drink. "I fail to see the humour in this," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Oh, no, brother?" Thor replied, a twinkle in his eye. "I thought you'd appreciate the reminder of your softer side."

"Ha! You're one to talk about softness," Loki shot back. "What about when you cried for three days straight because you lost your favourite hammer?"

Thor chuckled, taking the jab in stride. "At least I didn't carry it around like a newborn babe. And besides, it's not like you didn't have your bizarre obsessions."

Desperate to turn her attention to anything else, Hermione looked up at Frigga. The beautiful and powerful woman was the mother of both Thor and Loki. To be in her presence, to be able to stand beside her, be held by her, hugged by her. Frigga was kind and warm, much like her own mother, and Hermione liked how she felt safe and comfortable with her.

Knowing how she was responsible for teaching Loki, too, Hermione wondered if the All-Mother might make time to join them during her lessons one day.

As if reading her thoughts, Frigga spoke up. "As a sorceress myself, I deeply appreciate the intricacies of magic. Ásgarðrian seiðr is the most powerful and sophisticated form of magic in all the Nine Realms. Perhaps I can stop by during your training with Loki and teach you one or two things after you learn to recognise and control your magic."

Hermione's eyes widened with excitement. "Really?!" she exclaimed, unable to contain her enthusiasm.

"Of course, my dear," Frigga confirmed with a smile. "I would happily share my knowledge with a promising young sorceress like yourself."

During their talk, Loki and Thor were bickering in the background. Though not unkindly, more in jest. Their playful banter provided a sense of familiarity in the dining hall. Keeping the ambience light for everyone. Frigga chuckled at the brothers' playful banter.

Thor and Loki ceased arguing as Hermione returned to her plate before moving back to Frigga's side. No one missed how her eyes sparkled at the mention of seiðr or how she tried to contain her inquiries about the topic. Hermione's hunger was clear as day to all who looked upon her. "You're in for a treat, little one," Loki chuckled. "Mother's teachings are truly enchanting."

Thor, however, wasn't content to simply watch from the sidelines. "I want to teach her to fight!" he declared with a wide grin.

Frigga and Loki immediately dismissed the idea, shaking their heads in unison. "Absolutely not," Frigga said firmly.

Loki looked over at Thor, amusement twinkling in his green eyes. "Teach her to fight? Oh, dear brother, that's a dreadful idea."

Thor bristled at the tone but remained good-natured. "What? She needs to learn how to defend herself."

Loki chuckled. "Yes, because a Miðgardian child can endure the brute strength of the God of Thunder." He shook his head, a mock-serious expression on his face. "No, I think it's best to stick to magic. Something you're not exactly skilled at, dear brother."

As she listened to her boys, Frigga knew that Hermione's education would be collaborative, with each family member offering unique insights and skills. And with love and laughter at the forefront of their interactions, she was confident that Hermione would thrive under their guidance.

Thor's face fell, and he looked down at his hands, clearly disappointed. But Frigga quickly comforted him, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "Don't worry, my dear boy," she said softly. "There are other ways you can help. You can support Hermione and encourage her as she learns. And who knows? Maybe you can spar with her when she's powerful enough to hold her own against you."

Thor's face lit up at the thought, and he grinned broadly. "You're right, Mother. I'll be the best support she could ask for!"

Hermione smiled up at Thor, feeling grateful for his enthusiasm. She couldn't wait to start training with Loki and Frigga. She would soon be a powerful sorceress in her own right. Of that, Hermione was confident.

A small yawn escaped her, and Loki took this as an excellent time to escape his family for a moment. He would need one to ensure she took the most she could from her training with him. "Hermione,"

She nodded, standing and bowing to Frigga, who looked on curiously. "While I only just got here, it is late, so I should head to sleep for an early morning."

Frigga smiled and nodded to Hermione. Watching as Loki and Hermione started towards the door, she stopped them with a curious inquiry that had long been lingering on the edge of her mind. "Loki, my son, what exactly took so long to arrive at the palace?"

"Ah, we stopped to visit with Idunn, and as you are sure to remember, she simply adores me."

Hermione laughed beside Loki, who sent her a secretive smile before ushering her off to her room for sleep.

Sarcasm notwithstanding, Frigga laughed as they left the hall. She'd have to find out from Idunn what happened; of course, she could imagine it was probably nothing good if her youngest was involved.


The walk back to the room was faster than the walk to the dining room. Hermione chalked that up to her being so tired.

Loki watched her as she walked beside him, ensuring she didn't topple over or walk into a wall in her apparent state of exhaustion. Not that he thought she would. Still, best to be sure. Coming to her door, he turned the knob and opened it for her, "sleep well, Hermione. Tomorrow starts your lessons in seiðr. Fulla will be here early to help you in the morning and guide you to the dining hall for breakfast."

Hermione stilled beside her door and glanced back over her shoulder, "are you going to bed too, Loki?"

"Perhaps not straight to bed. I am, however, planning to retire to my room where it's neither emotionally damaging nor physically distressing." He jested.

Hermione gave a nod in understanding and bid him goodnight before stepping into her room, ready to rest and recharge for the challenges ahead.


End Part 1/6