I could kiss you all! Thanks so much for the reviews!

So, this is the start of a new part. The finalization of the peace treaty seemed like a good enough place to cut part 6 off, so now begins part 7!

Are you excited? Because I'm excited.

So I am shamelessly cherry-picking canon at this point, which is something I've done a lot of in the past with this story, but it's readily apparent here. Took some inspiration from Guardians of the Galaxy and my limited knowledge of various Marvel comic books for this one.

Don't wanna waste your time with a long note, so here we go!

Enjoy.

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Odin gave him a set of magically-restricting handcuffs, which he had no intention on using, and an item he said was a cell key, though it looked very little like a key at all. It was a long thin gold cylinder with a handle at one end and a point at the other; it was covered in runes and about as long as his hand. He spent his trip down to the dungeons studying the symbols on it and picking apart how it worked. He'd seen the runes along Loki's cell enough times to have a working understanding of them and the key filled in a lot of the holes in his knowledge of how it worked. It gave him a lot of ideas for wards.

It also worked as a good distraction from his nerves.

If he was speaking honestly, he had… not thought this through. The boon Odin had offered him had been unexpected, and his own response to it had been... Impulsive. Gryffindorish. Tom had more or less chewed him out for it afterwards, but it was too late to change now.

Now the only thing he could do was try to explain himself to Loki, hope he didn't muck it up too badly, and make a plan for going forward.

... Easier said than done.

The guards let him into the lower levels, and he made his way to Loki's cell. The Trickster was reading when he arrived, and he looked up in surprise. It wasn't a day he'd set for Harry to come down here, was in fact the first time he'd ever come down uninvited past the very first visit. The god looked confused, and then his gaze fell upon the items in Harry's hands and his face went blank.

Instantly he waved a hand, and there was the buzz along Harry's skin that came with his illusions.

"What is this?" He was staring at the cuffs, voice colder than the animagus had ever heard it. Harry flicked them. His tail twitched, fin shifting nervously across the floor.

"Odin gave them to me. I figure I don't need them but I didn't want to argue with him about it." The Liesmith's brows drew together, and Harry decided to just be honest. It had proven to be the best choice where Loki was concerned, and there was no reason to change it up now. He sighed. "He offered me a boon because of my involvement with the treaty, and I didn't know what to ask for and didn't want to be rude and refuse, and I just kind of blurted it out and um." He scratched his head. "I uh, I may have asked for custody of you? Um."

"Custody of me?" He couldn't read the man's expression.

"I wasn't really thinking, or well, I sort of was. I was thinking that um, you shouldn't have to pretend to be a prisoner here, and if you could come with me I could take you to Earth, and show you Bogdon, and some of the places I've travelled, and you said that he was influencing you even while you were here in Asgard, even though it didn't start here, so it's not really much safer here than anywhere else, and at least if you came with me there'd be someone to-" Loki interrupted his rambling.

"You could have asked for anything, and you asked for custody of me?"

"I, um." He took in a breath. "Yes." He finally said, simply. Loki stared at him for several moments, and then pointed.

"The hole for the key is there, at the center near the seam. Unlock it." Harry hesitated (the other man's voice was frighteningly neutral), and then did as asked. The runes along the cell lost their light, and the glass seemed to fade away into nothing. Loki stepped down, and Harry stepped back. They stared at each other a moment, and then to his surprise, Loki threw back his head and laughed; full and hearty and so very unlike him. He blinked rapidly, and the taller man looked back down at him and put his hands on his shoulders. "You could have asked for anything, and you asked for me."

"You're my friend." He informed him, confused. What else would he have asked for? Loki laughed again, and then hugged him. It was unexpected, but the wizard hugged him back.

"You're an impulsive fool." He bristled, and Loki pulled back, still grinning. "But yes. We are friends." He looked so delighted by his own statement that Harry couldn't even be offended.

"Yea." He grinned back.

Then Loki smacked the back of his head. He sputtered.

"What the hell?"

"That was for being stupid." The god informed him, deadpan, and then he dropped the illusion he'd raised and started walking away; head held high and expression proud in front of the watchful guards. "Come. We have a lot to discuss."

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"I did consider that it was... Not an ideal state of protection." Loki told him later. "But Asgard's defenses are strong, and for all that he may be able to reach me here, I would not imagine him able to come here physically, and it is his physical presence which I fear most." Harry nodded.

"Asgard is safer."

"Which is why this was a foolish choice on your part." He sighed. Shifting a little on his bed and looking away. The god was sat at the other end, back to him.

"Maybe so. But you shouldn't have to be trapped in one place just to feel safe." Loki didn't respond at first, and when he did he was quiet.

"He is powerful." His shoulders seemed to slump. "I suppose... Though I have not cared to contemplate it, that if it were truly in his wishes to reach me, Asgard's walls would only stop him for so long. I had thought once that at least such a venture might give me the time to escape, but, even that would only delay-" He stopped, tilted his head back, and Harry saw the shiver of magic as Loki became a woman. She turned to look at him. "If I am to die either way then I suppose I shall like to die free."

"You won't die." He informed her, voice calmer than his thoughts. Loki was a friend. No one would touch her. If he comes for you, we'll fight him." She looked panicked.

"You must not!" She yelled, turning fully. "If he comes for me, you run! You flee to the ends of the universe! He will kill you, he will-"

"He can't kill me."

"He-"

"I'm the King of Niflheim, Loki." She stopped. "I can't die." Gods he hated to say that aloud; hated to acknowledge it in any way. She looked taken aback by that, and he watched her try to compose herself.

"There are worse things than death." She told him softly, looking more frightened with her masks peeled back than he had ever seen her. Harry thought of war and shaking school walls, of visions of torture in his mind and watching an innocent kid struck down because he was in the way. He thought of twin girls crushed under rubble and the taste of blood in his mouth as he tore a man's heart from his chest. He thought of Sirius, buried by the ministry who knew where in an unmarked grave. He thought of New York, tall buildings lain low and screams in the air. He thought of scars and pain and pointless death.

"I know." She looked at him, and he could see the moment she recognized that he did. She reached for him, and he held her hand, and she didn't say anything. "If he comes for you we will fight, because I've never been good at backing down, and I'll find a way to kill him." He thought of the hallows, changed and unchanged, and his title. "I've got a feeling it'll be something I'm good at."

He was the King of Niflheim, of the realm of the Dead. He could pull souls back from there.

And he did have a feeling, deep and dark and sick in his gut, that sending them there would come even more easily.

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The training session he'd been invited to was still several days away, so he asked Heimdall to drop them in Russia. The morning found an enormous feline running across the landscape, Loki and Muhammad on its' back, with two large wolves running along after him. Thunder boomed above them.

Bogdon loomed in the distance, and Harry reached for the fortress' wards long before they physically arrived there, getting the newcomers keyed into them before they came close enough for the protections to react to them. When they got close Moo jumped down and lit a cigarette, and Loki slid off his back smoothly, looking up at the dark stone walls with interest. Harry watched him for a moment, taking in his scent, before shifting back and heading for the door.

"It's not nearly as grand as Asgard's castle, but it's home." There was a muffled crunch as Thor landed in the snow next to his brother. Loki glanced silently at him. He still looked bitter sometimes, where Thor was concerned, but not angry; if anything he just looked tired. The Thunderer had come down with them partially because he'd been invited to train with the others as well, and partially to speak with Loki. Harry had a feeling that for all their visits in Asgard, there were a lot of things they hadn't discussed there. With any luck they would feel more free to speak here, out from under Odin's watchful eye.

"It's not the sort of place I imagined for you." Loki declared. "For all that you described it to me, now that we're here it looks very... grim." The animagus chuckled.

"It's a little more homey inside." And it was. Over the years he'd added things to Bogdon to make it more comfortable. A lot of it had come before he brought the refugees from the war here, and some had come while they were here, at their requests. Bogdon was well-furnished. Thick rugs kept the floors warm, tapestries and the occasional painting, some of them portraits of various Black ancestors (Kreacher had dug them up and hung them one day, though from where he didn't know, and he had simply not asked the elf to take them down again), broke up the monotony of the walls, and torches were liberally placed to light up all the darker spaces.

All in all, Bogdon was still a grand and somewhat intimidating place, but it was at least such a place that also felt lived in. He'd not always cared for its long halls and great size. There'd been a time where it felt like far too much space, and even now there were times when he came here and found himself missing the sounds of the castle from when it was full of people. But it had grown on him.

New York had become a home too, in its own way. It was a nice building and it suited them all well, but there was something about this old fortress that would always call him back to it.

"It's quiet." Thor commented as they entered, looking around.

"There's no one else living here these days, besides the house elves." The blond looked at him, eyebrows raised.

"House elves?"

"They're beings bound to me and my family. They take care of the cooking and cleaning and the like." He actually felt a bit bad about not having been here in a while. Regular upkeep of the castle wasn't enough to really keep them occupied when there wasn't anyone living here. "I'll bring you down to the kitchens and introduce you to them. Whenever you need anything you can call for one of them and they'll help you out. Just please treat them well." They both nodded, and he turned away, gesturing them to follow him down the hall.

"I'll show you your rooms and give you the tour, and then we can see about some food."

He had a feeling these two would make interesting house-guests.

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He was right, and ultimately not the least bit surprised, to find Loki in his personal rooms that night rather than the ones he'd given to him. He'd left the Liesmith and his brother to their own devices after lunch; last he'd seen them the two had stayed settled in the dining hall to talk privately. But since Loki had revealed that his cell hadn't done much of anything to keep him contained, it had become fairly commonplace to find the god in his bed. So he wasn't surprised to see that pattern continue now.

The real surprise was that Loki wasn't in his bed, but his office, sitting and staring very intently at a particular cabinet.

Harry stopped in the doorway when he found him there, and then shut it behind him and came and sat in the chair next to Loki. It maybe hadn't been wise to bring Loki here when he had the scepter in this place, but he honestly had all but forgotten about it.

"I've warded it." He told him, and Loki watched him, face inscrutable. "It wouldn't be easy for anyone to get past the protections on that cabinet, and they'd have to get in past Bogdon's wards uninvited first. It's not perfect, but it's as safely contained here as it's likely to get anywhere on Earth."

"There's no such thing as safe where infinity stones are concerned."

"Infinity stones?" Harry blinked at him. He'd never heard the term before, and Loki chuckled; a dark humorless sound.

"You don't even know what it is you seek to contain." He shook his head, scoffing, and Harry frowned.

"Maybe you should tell me." Loki sighed, rubbing a hand along his face.

"Maybe I should." The worlds were whispered lowly enough to barely be heard, and then the Liesmith cleared his throat and settled himself in his chair in a way that was familiar to Harry. It was a posture that said he had a tale to tell, and it was time to be still and silent and listen.

"To be quite honest," Loki began. "No one entirely knows where the stones came from. They have existed since the beginning of creation, perhaps before. I don't know what came first, the stones or the Norns, but there was a time when they wielded them. There are six stones, and it is said that they were tools of creation and destruction. The Norns used them to create the universe and the nine realms, to destroy darkness and bring about the age of sentient beings. And then the stones were lost. Under what circumstances I don't know. But at one time the Norns possessed them, and then... They did not. They were scattered across the universe." He took a deep breath.

"Many ages ago, there existed a race of beings known as the Celestials. They were once among the very first of sentient life, and existed as you would imagine True Gods. They created and destroyed life. Species. Entire planets. There are some who say the Norns are Celestials, others who say they created them. Which is true?" He shrugged. "Who knows? But at some point, a group of these beings created another race, the Eternals. Immortals of great power and humanoid in shape. They were meant to be protectors of other forms of sentient life, and with their creation the Celestials slowly faded away. So far as it is known, none of them remain. From the Eternals was born a being, a hybrid, a man, in so much as such a being can be called a man."

"The purpose and circumstances are lost now, but this man created an item of great power, what we call the 'Infinity Gauntlet'. It was designed to wield the power of the stones, and he sought them out. It is said his initial purposes were just, but he went mad. The Mad Titan, they call him now." Intuition pricked at him.

"The leader of the Chitauri." Loki nodded.

"He's insane, and he courts my daughter. He courted her predecessor before her, and, I think, his predecessor before him. He courts Death, and slaughters whole planets as gifts to impress." He listened, still as a statue. Hel had not spoken of this. "There were those who fought him, in a time before my own, took the gauntlet and scattered the stones. The gauntlet itself resides in Asgard's vaults, and the tesseract, another of the stones, is also there." He gestured towards the cabinet. "The stone in the scepter is another of them, which he gave to me in order to control me, and also to make it easier for me to do his bidding." He looked at Harry. "I also suspect, though I do not think he yet knows of it, that there is a third here on Midgard." He took a shaky breath. "I suspect also, that the others will soon reveal themselves."

"They were scattered, to the very edges of the universe, and somehow, someway, they are returning, gathering, and he is seeking them out; seeking to use them to destroy all life in the universe in the hopes of impressing Death."

"That's mad." Loki laughed, and there was no humor in it.

"Hence the title 'The Mad Titan'. He is not a rational being, Harry." He reached out with his magic, needing the comfort, and the Trickster's magic welcomed his own, as it always did. He took in a sharp breath, as something seemed to click into place inside his mind.

Oh.

This was it. This was what they were meant to do together.

This was why their magic met so well. They were meant to stop this.

As soon as the thought occurred to him, he knew that it was right. It settled like a Truth inside of him, and there was a peace that came with finally understanding. Peace-

And worry.

He eyed the cabinet, suddenly much more wary about keeping the thing here. Universe-creating God Stones were a little above his pay grade. But it wasn't as though there was anywhere safer to keep it.

... Was there?

"You said... They used to belong to the Norns?" Loki blinked at him.

"So it is said, yes."

"I met one, at the roots of Yggdrasil, when we finalized the treaty. Some of it's kind of a blur, but um. Do you think Heimdall would let me go back there...?"

"Travel to the Well of Urd is highly restricted. You were brought there because tradition demanded it for the purpose you were fulfilling, but the Gatekeeper would not open the way there for you so easily on a whim." He looked confused at Harry's question even while he was answering, but as he finished speaking a light seemed to go on in his eyes. The wizard saw the moment he got it. "But... There are other ways; cracks and holes and hidden passages between realms." He offered carefully, like sharing a secret, and Harry grinned.

"And I'm guessing you know where a few of them are." Loki grinned back, full of mischief, a fire in him that had been absent before.

"You know, I just might."

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Harry had some visits to make before he would be going back to New York, and while he had planned to bring Loki along with him, the god himself wasn't keen on leaving Bogdon. Now that he knew the stone was there, he was of the opinion Harry shouldn't be leaving it unguarded.

Now that Harry knew what it was, he couldn't say he disagreed.

It made him nervous to leave Loki there. He trusted him, but the Chitauri leader, this 'Mad Titan', had used the scepter and the stone within is as a catalyst to control Loki before, and even under all the protections containing it, there was no guarantee he could not reach Loki through it again. But Loki had assured him he was far more prepared for such a possibility than he once had been, and both Thor and Tom would be staying in the castle with him (Moo and his brothers had already left, the former off to visit his uncle and the latter would no doubt head for their shop and the Burrow), so the animagus decided to let things be.

The stone had been sitting without issue in his rooms for months; it could sit for a bit longer.

So he left them behind rather than bringing either of them along with him as he'd originally wanted (Loki told him there'd be chances for that later), and made his way to Malfoy Manor. Lucius had been upset last time that visiting them had been more or less an afterthought for them, so he made a point of going there first this time.

He also got a kick out of showing up unannounced, which he technically had permission to do, but also knew would irritate the stuffy old aristocrat.

He'd not really noticed it before, but given his ease with entering the property, he must have been keyed into Lucius' wards. It was a bit humbling to have that much trust, but in its' own way also unsurprising. The house elves let him in, and when Lord Malfoy made his way into the foyer he did indeed look a bit disgruntled to find Harry there; unexpected and leaning too far back in his chair.

Harry waved at him, grinning. The man scowled exaggeratedly (he didn't mean it), ordered an elf to bring him a glass of scotch, and settled down in a chair next to him.

"You did say I was welcome whenever I wanted."

"I didn't expect you to take advantage of it."

"Should have known better." Lucius snorted and he grinned, and then happily accepted his own glass of liquor when the house elf brought it to him.

"You've been well?" He shrugged.

"More or less. A lot has happened."

"You still never told me where you disappear to." He sipped from his glass and it burned in a good way going down. Hell. Why not?

"Would you believe me if I told you another planet?" Lucius rolled his eyes, and then looked back at him; the amusement faded.

"Tell me you're joking." He shrugged again, and Lucius groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. "I feel like I should accuse you of lying to me, but if it were possible, you would be the sort of person who would do it." The animagus laughed. "And what, pray tell, have you been doing there?"

"Dealing with politics."

"Now I know you're lying to me." He grinned at him, and Lucius huffed and leaned back.

"You're one of the reasons my hair's turning silver, I hope you know. You're completely mad."

"I thought your hair was already silver?" The blond glared at him and he snickered. "Hey, at least you can't say I bore you." Lucius sighed, and that was that.

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He stayed for dinner and chatted with Narcissa and Draco about wizarding politics, had a lovely conversation with Daphne about owls of all things, and played with Scorpius. He kept the boy up well enough past bedtime that Lucius rolled his eyes at him, put his grandson to bed himself, and then invited him to stay the night.

He spent the next day checking in with the goblins, getting the paperwork started for him to go for his mastery in runes (because he'd been avoiding it long enough and everyone else seemed to think he was ready, which was not to say that he would give them the satisfaction of knowing he was giving it a shot) and then hunting down Moody and having a nice duel out on the lawn while he yelled out things he knew until he'd proven his identity to the man's satisfaction.

They had tea and sat down to knit and have a chat.

"Ye look happier than the last time I saw ye."

"Do I?" He asked genuinely. Was he? He didn't feel happier, not really. It wasn't that he was unhappy, exactly, but a lot had happened and he was still more stressed than he was comfortable dealing with being. Moody studied him silently.

"Maybe happy isn' t the righ' word..." He muttered thoughtfully. "Last I saw ye," He spoke slowly "ye were worried fer the future. Ye seem less so now. Ye'r still worried, but more like ye'r ready to face it." Harry hummed thoughtfully, fingers slowing through their movements.

Was he more ready? He supposed, in a way, he was. He had some measure of understanding of what was waiting for him in the future, and it had always been the unknown aspect of it that frightened him the most, if he were being honest with himself. He had the beginnings of a plan. It wasn't anything fleshed out, and it wouldn't take care of everything, but it was a start. That was more than he had had before. He had people on his side who would help him, would fight with him. Loki was free (mostly) and the treaty was done (had he started working on that before the last time he saw the retired auror? He couldn't quite remember; time just seemed to slip by him these days). He was more ready to accept his fate as a King now.

... More or less at least. He'd been working himself up to it for a while, and maybe he wasn't entirely ready yet; but then, he didn't think he ever really would be, and he couldn't hold himself back forever. If nothing else, he certainly had more reason to go forward now. After all, he imagined it wasn't often a real life deity gave one direction in life, and he could recognize the foolishness of going against that direction when it was given. Urd had offered him that last little push he needed with her words.

He wasn't ready, but he would do it now. He might have waited a lot longer otherwise.

... So in a way, he supposed that Moody was right.

"I guess so." He offered quietly, feeling himself calm with the words. Alastor studied him and then nodded a few times.

"Good. T'ain't right, seein' ye so out o' sorts. I didn't care fer it." Harry laughed.

"So sorry to inconvenience you." Moody huffed.

"Ye should be." He laughed again, and they were quiet for a time. Flames crackled in the fireplace, and he found himself relaxing more and more. Knitting was almost a sort of meditation into and of itself. He'd kept up on it in Asgard, spending a few evenings just fiddling about with the needles. He'd long-since finished the first scarf he'd made, and even a second. This would be his third, and really, he should probably learn how to make more things than scarves, but-

"Have ye heard?" Alastor interrupted, and he hummed, not really paying attention. "They're tryin' to ban werewolves alt'gether." Reality crashed back down, his sense of peace shattering.

"Wait, what?" He stopped his knitting entirely, focused fully on the old man. He looked grim, and nodded, eyes on his own yarn.

"They havn't brought it to the Wizengam't yet, mind ye. But there's a bill what's been gainin' some support. Quietly I think. Buildin' up. They want to ban werewolves from the Isles entirely. Keep em out and they can't cause trouble. And there's a few what have been, lately. Remnants. Some old followers o' that damned Greyback. They executed his arse thankfully. Lots o' em followed him 'cause of things You-Know-Who promised em, and the ones what didn't get locked up af'er it all have had it bad. They been gettin' angry. This shite happened after the first war too, and things got more restrictive, but this? Ban's a big deal. Probably some other countries gonna oppose it, 'cause they've got to go somewhere if they're banned, but still. Ye may want to warn them brothers o' yours." Harry stared at him, a slow but familiar fury rising inside of him with every word. He thought of his brothers. He thought of Remus. He thought of little Teddy (because if someone would go so far as to try to push that kind of legislature, how far would they go in restricting werewolf children, regardless of whether they had the curse themselves?). When he responded, his every word dripped with venom and there was a snarl in his throat.

"Oh, I'll do more than that."

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He went to Hogwarts, before anywhere else, because that was where Remus would be. He was tempted to head back to Malfoy Manor, a deep anger brewing in him. Lucius was a skilled politician. He couldn't imagine the man was unaware of this so-called bill; and he had said nothing. He would know how important the subject was to Harry. He should have told him.

Even more worrying was if he didn't know.

Lucius Malfoy was not a man easily fooled. He was not a man one could hide a political agenda from without taking great pains to do so. Moody had been an Auror for years and years, and he'd had any number of contacts and snitches to give him information. Harry's understanding was that they had continued doing so even after his retirement. Besides that, he and Lucius moved in very different circles. It was not an impossible thought that something kept quiet from one would be known to the other.

If this was something his Uncle didn't know...

It would beg the question of why it had been hidden from him.

In either case, him knowing or him not, Harry would need to pay the man another visit and have a talk with him.

But for now, worry brought him to the gates of a castle, grand and old and so terribly familiar.

School was still in session, and when he entered and made his way towards the Headmistress' office, he found younger faces passing him by, looking up at him. Black robes and ties and bows in shades of various colors flashed past him. It was bitterly nostalgic for him.

Every time he came to this old castle he found his thoughts following the same patterns. There had been so many good things here, so many bad; too many memories all around.

This time his thoughts took a darker turn.

He would live long past all those he knew now, at least his fellow Midgardians. He would keep his title and live for at least as long as the treaty was in place. All that time, all those years ahead of him.

How many more places would become soured by too many memories?

When would come the day he could no longer live in Bogdon, or the townhouse, or New York altogether?

When would come the day he would leave the Isles and never return again, because of too many memories?

How many homes would he lose, in the years to come? How alone would he be?

He shook his head as he found himself at the familiar gargoyle, clearing it. Those thoughts would help no one. He sighed, and stepped forward to knock on its' base. The future was something he needed to think about at some point, because he couldn't stick his head in the sand forever, and he knew that. But now? When he was already in a bad mood and stressed, when he hadn't had a cigarette all day or meditated for days or been able to properly swim in a natural pool for weeks?

Now was not the time.

The gargoyle slid aside and he made his way up.

A lot had changed in recent days, but McGonagall's office was exactly the same as the last time he'd been here. He smiled to see it.

"Headmistress." She was sitting up at her desk, and she frowned.

"Harry. I wasn't expecting you." He gave a tight, sheepish smile.

"It was a bit sudden. I'm here to see Remus, if he's in." She huffed.

"You could have sent a letter ahead." He scratched the back of his head.

"Sorry, Professor. I... Suppose I didn't think ahead." Her lips twitched.

"Some things never change." She shuffled through some papers on her desk, pulling one up to look at it. "Hmm. He's in a class right now, but he'll be done with that in half an hour and he should be free enough after that. You can likely have dinner with him. He usually eats in his private quarters with his family, but it's my understanding Mrs. Lupin was called away for the week and their son is staying with her mother. Do you know where his quarters are?" He thought for a moment.

"I... Can't quite recall actually." She nodded.

"Stay and have a cuppa with me and I'll escort you, then." He was anxious to speak with Remus, but he couldn't exactly bust into a classroom for it. He sat and waited while McGonagall ordered some tea from a house elf and it was brought around. They each were quiet at first, and after the first sip she spoke again. "Have you put some thought into what we spoke about the last time we saw each other?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"And?"

"I put in the paperwork to apply for my Mastery just recently. I'm hoping to be... available for the next couple weeks if not always in the country, but I gave them my contact information for where I will be. I'm hoping to hear back soon." She nodded, looking pleased.

"Good to hear. I would have liked for you to have taken care of this before the new term had begun, but better late than never, I suppose. I hope to hear of your success soon." He sighed, slumping a little.

"You've never even seen me work with runes. I don't know what makes you so confident in my abilities."

"I know you." She smiled a little. "If there's one thing I learned about you while you were a student here, Harry, it's that when you feel passionately enough about something you excel. You never really put that drive into your schoolwork, but you did with other things. You were that way with Quidditch, and your foolish adventures, and that little club I'm sure you thought I didn't know about." His brows raised in surprise. He had thought none of the teachers knew about the DA, save for his father. "If this is a subject you've been interested in enough to pursue after leaving here, then I imagine you didn't choose it without some devotion to the craft. If that's the case, I can't see you being anything but excellent at it." He swallowed, cheeks pinking a bit.

"High praise." He murmured into his tea. The Headmistress smiled kindly at him.

"Well then, you'd best not disappoint me, hmm?"

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She left him in the foyer of Remus' rooms, with the understanding that the man himself would be along shortly. He settled himself comfortably in one of the armchairs by the fireplace and waited, letting himself get lost a bit in the burning flames.

There was so much going on, too much. His mind flicked between subjects so often these days and it was hard to keep track of it all. He'd yet to get a foundation established in politics here, which he was going to need in order to directly do anything about this bill that Moody had told him about. That would reveal his title to the wizarding world, and from that there would be complications, questions, accusations. There was his title itself and the upcoming trip to Niflheim to consider, especially given that he had no real idea what to expect. His mother had told him it was a nice place, but she'd hardly gone into detail. Hel would be there, and that was another can of worms. He still wasn't sure how much of their interactions were genuine or manipulation on her part. There was the Avengers to think about. Logan (and he'd brushed that thought aside for ages). Loki and his situation, and from that his need to go back to Jotunheim at some point and give it a search (and how in Mitera's name was he going to search a whole planet by himself?). He needed to get his mastery figured. He was still worried about Moo.

There was just... Too much.

All of a sudden it all seemed to press unexpectedly down on him. There was too much happening, too much to worry about-

Too much. Too much. Too much. Too much-

Wha-

He couldn't-

He gasped-

And there were hands. Warm and on his chest. A familiar scent. A voice.

"Breathe, Harry-"

He couldn't. He was suffocating.

"Calm down. It's alright. Breathe, cub. In and out, slowly, here let's count it out-" He tried to listen, tried to breathe in on four and out again on the same. Slowly, painfully, it grew easier. The blood rushing in his ears seemed to go slower, his pounding heart slowed down. He closed his eyes and leaned into the body that was near him. It was a scent he knew. It was a scent that was calming. He breathed it in deeply, pressing his nose against robes and warmth. Remus. The man hugged him, rubbing soothing circles across his back.

"Sorry." He murmured. What in Merlin's name was that? He hadn't had a panic attack since just after the war- no wait, there'd been that time in the white world hadn't there? He wasn't sure. His thoughts were scattered- And now, in front of Remus of all people-

"None of that now, Harry." Remus ran a hand over his head, brushing through his hair and smoothing the errant strands that had come out of the tail. "It's alright. Happens to the best of us. If anyone's entitled to a bit of Dueler's Fatigue it would be you." He patted his shoulder a bit, and Harry realized he was clinging to the front of his robes and let go, leaning back and rubbing his hands over his burning face. He was stronger than this, what had come over him? Remus squeezed his shoulders once more before letting go. "I'll get you some chocolate." The comment caught him off guard, startling a laugh out of him. It was so like the older man- Remus had long since been of the opinion that nearly everything could be solved with chocolate. "Would you like some calming draught too?" He sighed heavily. He hated to rely on such things, but his father had long-since taught him the benefits of letting himself be medicated when he truly needed it, and how to avoid addiction as best he could. He hadn't had a draught in long enough.

"Yes, please." The man shuffled off and soon enough everything was settled. He felt a lot calmer with the potion in his system (which was rather the point), and quite pleased with the chocolate. Remus settled in near him and they were quiet for a bit.

"I'm hesitant to, given what just happened, but if you're willing to talk about it I'd like to ask..." He hesitated.

"Why I just... freaked out?" The older man nodded, and Harry sighed and looked towards the fire again.

"You're a part of my family, Harry." He looked over at him, feeling a little warm at the declaration, but the emotion was muted. "I worry about you."

"I worry about you. I've just... Got a lot going on right now, and then Moody told me about something and it added a little extra stress. I wasn't prepared for it." He sighed again. "It's actually what I'm here to talk to you about." Remus was frowning when he looked back at him.

"This is about the ban." He nodded.

"You've heard then."

"Moody warned me as well, and I've heard... Rumors from other avenues. Something like this could get nasty. If a ban goes through I can't imagine the Ministry being kind about enforcing it, and there's a number of werewolves I know who won't take a forced eviction lying down." He sighed. "And that's to say nothing of myself. I'd go quietly, but- I've got my family and- Well to be honest I don't even know where I would go."

"I've got that covered." Remus blinked and looked up at him. "If worst comes to worst I've got a place you can go." He'd bring them to Bogdon, like he had the refugees of the war. The barest flicker of anger plumed up from under the fog of calm, and with it came the physically distant presence of Tom, his attention on them now. Harry opened his walls with only a little hesitation, sharing the information from the past couple days and his thoughts on the matter. "But it's not going to come to that." He met Remus' eyes.

"I've got a plan," He told him. "and I'm going to need your help." Remus looked at him for a long moment, and then spoke, voice strong.

"Whatever you need from me, I'll give."

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So, fair warning, there's a conversation that took place there with Remus, but we're not gonna see it right away. In fact, we may not see it for a couple chapters here.

Just warning you so you don't start the next chapter thinking I just skipped it entirely or made a booboo.

Got some Avengers coming up soon, Clint being lovable, Hulk makes an appearance. It's gonna be grand! Stay tuned everyone!

Sincerely,

Mr. Hate