Summary: (Because there is a word limit, apparently) Book 3 of The Littlest Asgardian
The Gods are invading! Hogwarts is about to be invaded by the Gods for the first time—who am I kidding?! The Gods created Hogwarts for the Midgardian Seidr and Seidrmenn to learn and practice magic. However, this is the first time that a God has entered Hogwarts as a student since James... Okay, look, none of the Hogwarts students or Professors knew James Potter was the God Loki. Even Potter didn't know he was blatantly worshiping himself. However, here comes the exiled Littlest Asgardian God, Mount Olympus's favorite little Godling, Harry Potter, and this Godling knows he's a wizard as well as a God.
A/N: The Harry Potter story and characters do not belong to me, but JK Rowlings and Warner Brothers. Loki and the Asgardians also do not belong to me but to Norse myths and legends, plus Marvel. I do own the Tuatha Dé Danann, okay, not really. They belong to the people of Ireland's myths and legends, not Marvel. I am not using Marvel's version of the Tuatha Dé Danann. I do not permit anyone to copy; if you want to translate this into another language, please ask for permission.
Bees that have honey in their mouths have stings in their tails. ~ Unknown Proverb.
He walked with a steady gait towards his brother's office. The trick to making everyone believe he was where he was supposed to be was to be confident, be determined, and look people in the eyes with a smile. A charm to make his blue eyes sparkle didn't help either.
'Filthy,' he thought as he strolled through the corridor of his brother's home. Giving the password to his brother's guardian, he let himself into his brother's office, "Brother," he mocked, making the old man sitting at the desk look up.
"Brother," the old man responded hesitantly.
"The Potter boy should be coming to Hogwarts this year. I have new instructions for you," the first man put forth.
"No, please," the old man whined. "I don't want to hurt the boy," he whispered as he tried to back away from his brother.
However, his brother had long since surpassed him in power and physical strength, and he forced the old man to drink a potion. Guiding him back to his desk and chair, he sat the man down, and standing behind him, he whispered his plans into his brother's ear. The potion, a blend of Alchemy and Potions, was something of his own design: a liquid Imperius Curse. The old man would do anything he said for the next six months before he would need to be dosed again, and never, even when not on the potion, was he able to tell anyone about the potion, about his brother, or any instructions ever given to him. He would choke on his tongue before giving away he was Imperiused.
His brother had been dosed since early 1900—after their sister died, he decided he needed something to control his out-of-control, wayward brother—with sporadic bits of freedom as one or the other brother worked on their Masters or got bored and took lovers, forgetting temporarily about his brother. However, he always found him and brought him back into his sphere. After all, no matter what, Dumbledore's stuck together like honey to a bee.
A/N: Yes, this is it for the first chapter, but hey! I got the first chapter out! I am still writing, and most importantly, I am still researching a whole new Pantheon that I have never studied before. I know literally nothing about the Irish Pantheon. I only discovered I was 3% Irish a couple of years ago when I tried . I have to tell you, the Tuatha Dé Danann, they are a little different. Less incest, more petty infighting, very similar to Wizards, except Wizards, are into incest... and the British Gods-almost non-existent-replaced by the Romans. Okay, enough teasing you, I'll get back to researching and writing.