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Chapter Text

The young boy wandered through the lush meadow, following a well-trodden path created by unknown animals. The sky was slowly transforming into shades of orange and red, signaling that it was getting late and he should return home. However, an irresistible urge to explore deeper into the forest tugged at him.

Surrounded by countless wildflowers swaying gently in the breeze as he walked through the flowers. The flowers released a faint cloud of golden dust that disappeared with the wind as he walked past them. The sound of a nearby waterfall filled his ears, adding to the serene ambiance. As evening crept closer, he took a deep breath and felt the magic in the air grow stronger. With a wave of his hand, he summoned this magic towards him, forming a sparkling orb that danced playfully across his open palm.

What was this pull he was feeling? the boy looked at the orbs of magic. “What is it that you want?” he murmured, “show me”. Holding his hand up, he let the orb go, observing as it soared forward, lighting up his way.

The light from the orb was strong enough to dissolve any obstacles in his way, allowing him to continue following the animal trail he had discovered earlier. Perhaps he would spend the night out here? It seemed like the magic surrounding him was urging him to keep going deeper into the forest, not quite ready for him to leave just yet.

As he made his way through the dense foliage, all magical energy seemed to surround him, growing stronger with each step. He could feel the power humming through his veins.

Harald, as the boy was named, was no more than a child in the eyes of the people. He was small for his age, with jet-black long hair with a faint bluish-green tint to it. His eyes were a mesmerizing shade of emerald green, like a lush forest on a sunny day. Specks of golden dust danced in his irises, giving them an otherworldly glow.

His mother often boasted about his strong connection to magic and how he was destined for something great, his eyes serving as proof of his mystical potential.

Harald strolled alongside the trickling stream of crystal-clear water. His eyes were focused on the small stones beneath his feet as he made his way. As the darkness descended, and the forest came alive, a strange feeling took hold of him. He could feel his heart beat faster as he ventured deeper into the woods.

Tiny creatures gathering the magical energy around him stirred from their slumber, buzzing and fluttering near the earth as they collected particles of magic. In celebration of the day, he had decided to venture further into the kingdom than usual. He had even prepared a bag with all the necessary supplies, though at the moment he couldn't recall where he had placed it. Shrugging it off for now, he followed an inexplicable pull in this direction.

His hair was pulled back into a high ponytail that swayed with each step. Braids and beads hung from the loops of hair that fell over his shoulders. He was dressed in a crisp white tunic tucked into snug black pants. Knee-high dark green boots protected his feet, and a decorative belt adorned with a short sword and a pouch of sparkling crystals.

Harald's body tensed up as a strange sensation coursed through him. It was almost like the magic was slipping. He scanned his surroundings and then started to move, feeling drawn towards something by this magical pull.

There was a nagging sensation gnawing at him, urging him to move quickly before it was too late. But too late for what? It wasn't just the feeling that caught the young seeker's attention. There was now something in the air, something dark and unsettling, and it felt off.

The scent of decay filled his nostrils. It smelled like death.

Death had always been a familiar presence to him; perhaps it was just a natural ability he possessed. The realm of the dead saw him as one who could embody the god of death, chosen as his successor at his birth. However, he had not yet undergone the test to officially inherit the title, and its powers. Death lingered around him, awaiting for something or someone. Of what, he was unaware of.

Harald inhaled deeply, gathering his composure and closing his emerald eyes. He released the magical energy from within him in gentle waves, responding to those who called for his aid.

Feeling a sense of disorientation caused by the loss of….something. Harald ran his hand over his face to push back the long strands of hair, that had escaped their confines. Exhaling slowly, he opened his eyes once more and knew instinctively that he needed to move towards the right. He picked up his pace and started to a jog.

Harald suddenly stumbled over somthing and let out a startled shout, biting back a yelp of pain as his knees collided with the hard ground. Luckily, the sturdy leather of his boots prevented any damage to his pants; otherwise, he would have some explaining to do to his mother.

The young boy stopped to inspect the object that had caused him to trip, expecting to see a root. Instead, he laid eyes on a pair of shiny black leather boots. His gaze traveled upward, and was surprised to find that the supposed ‘root’ was actually, a man.

The figure in front of Harald was a young man, covered in dirt and blood. The man struggled to breathe, each inhale and exhale sounding like a gurgle with fluid in his throat. Harald began to realize that the overwhelming feeling of death was coming from this man. He hurriedly knelt beside him and tried to shake him awake, but it was no use.

The man's head rocked back and forth slowly and unnaturally as he lay unconscious. Harald's gaze swept over the numerous wounds that covered the man's body, the tattered and bloody clothes clinging to his battered form. The skin underneath was an angry red, inflamed in some places as a sign of infection. As Harald checked for any signs of life, he could feel the intense heat radiating from the man's feverish body, a clear indicator that death was close at hand.

"Okay," Harald muttered, taking a deep breath, "Okay, I can handle this. First, wash the wounds and take the next step when I’m there."

With steady, practiced hands, Harald began the task of washing every infected wound on the man’s body. The scent of blood and sweat filled the air as he tore open the young man's clothes to prevent them from getting caught in the fresh crimson fluid. His fingers traced carefully over one of the more extensive wounds across the man's chest, feeling for any signs of infection or further damage.

The skin was hot and inflamed, oozing a thick, yellow pus that made Harald's stomach churn. But he continued his work with determination, knowing that this could be a matter of life and death for the young man in front of him. Every movement was careful and precise as if Harald were performing a sacred ritual to heal his patient. Time seemed to blur as he focused all his attention on cleansing and treating each wound, determined to save this life no matter what it took.

The smell of dead tissue was heavy all around them, and he could now almost see the dark fog settle over the broken body in front of him. But he refused to let it distract him. He couldn't afford to give up now, not when there was still a glimmer of hope amidst the haze of death. Among the dark particles, he spotted a hint of gold and a touch of purple. It made him pause for a moment, but he quickly refocused on meticulously cleaning up the damaged edges once more.

The night had now completely fallen, and the only light he had to work in was from the moon and the little ball of light he had created. Harald's hands moved methodically, gently cleaning each wound with a damp cloth before applying a healing salve. He could feel the young man's rapid heartbeat under his hand as he worked.

As he cleaned one of the more severe wounds on the man's chest, Harald noticed something unusual. There was a purple hue surrounded the edges of the wound, almost like a dark aura. His brow furrowed in confusion, wondering what could have caused such an abnormal color. Could it be poison? That would explain the rapid heartbeat and fever.

Harald paused for a moment to observe his patient. The young man's breathing was shallow and labored, his skin clammy to the touch. There was no doubt that he was fighting for his life at this point.

Determined to save this young man's life, Harald began to work on the infected wound with his magic as well. He let his magic flow through his hands and into the man's body, testing whether it would be accepted by him or not. To his relief, there was no reaction from the man; his body seemed to accept Harald's use of magic with ease.

With each gentle touch of magic, Harald could feel himself drawing out some of the poison from within the wound. The aura of purple slowly dissipated as he continued to work on it with both physical and magical means. Finally, after what seemed like hours but was only mere minutes, Harald was able to clean and treat all of the wounds on the young man's body.

Exhausted but relieved, Harald sank onto his rear beside him as his whole body shook from the exhaustion that came over him.

He took a moment to catch his breath and listen to the young man's now more peaceful and steady breathing. The fever still raged within his body, but it seemed to have lessened in intensity compared to before.

Harald stumbled and nearly fell as he made his way to the small stream that was nearby, his magical energy drained from healing the injured stranger. His legs shook with every step. He reached for a handful of soft pink fabric, remnants of his once used scarf, and dipped it into the cool water.

He returned to the stranger's side, and gently pressed a cloth on their forehead, hoping to reduce the fever. Suddenly, Harald froze in his movement as his eyes fell upon his wrist. In this world, where magic and fate were integral parts of everyday life, especially in the realm where he lived, a significant aspect was the "mark".

Harald was an extraordinary boy from birth, not just because of his strong connection to magic, but also because he had a soulmate mark. This mark meant that he was one of the few destined to find and be with their one true match. It may sound cheesy, but it was a cherished belief among his people.

It seemed as though it was a game for the gods to find their chosen ones. The mark, a combination of two souls, would begin to evolve in the presence of its partner and with growing emotions. Each person's mark was unique in pattern and size.

There were theories about the significance of the mark; some believed that a larger and more intricate one required more balance, whatever that meant. But regardless of the interpretation, both parties always had the same goal.

Harald cherished his mark, adorned with winding green vines and tiny flower buds that had yet to bloom, encircling his wrist. The colors were always in perfect harmony, a constant vibrant green that sometimes seemed to sway in an invisible breeze. But perhaps he was just imagining things.

The green stems were intertwined together, wrapped around a protective golden ribbon that was barely noticeable beneath the vines.

As Harald gazed at the mark on his wrist, a mix of disbelief and wonder washed over him. The intricate patterns seemed to shimmer in the fading light, as if alive. He had always believed in the soulmate mark, a cherished tale from his childhood, but now, faced with its reality, he felt a surge of skepticism. Could this stranger, lying weak and fevered before him, truly be his destined match?

The mark, once a simple, elegant design, now pulsed with a soft glow, its lines twisting into something more complex. Harald's heart raced as he knelt beside the stranger, his eyes drawn to the man's face. The stranger's features were calm, peaceful, yet Harald sensed a depth, a story untold.

He dipped the cloth into the stream again, the cool water a stark contrast to the warmth of the stranger's skin. As he pressed it to the stranger's forehead, their eyes met in a fleeting moment. Harald felt a jolt, a connection so strong it left him breathless.

The stranger's gaze, though hazy, held a spark of recognition before closing again. Harald's mark tingled, a sensation he had never experienced before. He pulled back, his mind racing. Was this a sign? Or merely his imagination playing tricks?

The stream babbled softly, a serene backdrop to the turmoil in Harald's thoughts. He had always hoped to find his match, to experience the deep bond his people spoke of. Yet now, with the possibility before him, he felt uncertain, daunted by the weight of fate.

As the stranger's eyes fluttered closed again, Harald sat back, his wrist a reminder of the mystery unfolding. The mark's glow faded, leaving him with more questions than answers. He stayed there, by the stream, the night deepening around them, and wondered if the gods had indeed brought them together.

It was almost too good to be true...or was it a terrible twist of fate? Despite his initial doubts, there was no denying that the injured man lying in front of him was his soulmate. The only way a soulmate mark could appear was if they made physical contact with their other half.

Harald's gaze drifted back to the unconscious man, there was nothing on his arms. So then his mark must be where it would end as his own grew? Harald struggled with the childish urge to rip off all of the stranger’s clothes, and search for any marks on his body. But he couldn't bring himself to do such a violating act while the man was defenseless and injured. It would make him just as bad as the person who had hurt him.

As the ball of light cast a dim glow over them, Harald could finally get a good look at the man. He ran his eyes over the man's handsome face, now free of dirt and blood. His features were sharp and defined, with high cheekbones and a straight nose leading down to plump lips. His hair was slightly curled and fell just above his ears, giving him a charming appearance.

For a moment, Harald couldn't resist the childish urge to touch his hair and see if it was as smooth as it looked. He delicately brushed his fingers against the soft black strands of hair. It was like touching a smooth silk fabric. Suddenly, the young man let out a low groan and grimaced.

"Hey, are you awake?" Harald whispered, receiving a weak groan and a raspy non-coherence reply. He carefully lifted the man's head with his canteen and brought it to his lips.

The young man took small sips before coughing and struggling to swallow. Harald immediately lowered the canteen and lightly patted his back. The heat emanating from the man's body was concerning but not completely unlikely as he probably had some poison left in his body.

With the empty flask now resting next to him, Harald lowered the man's head back onto the ground with a gentle touch. His intense gaze studied the young man once again, taking in every detail of his face and expression.

Slowly, the man's eyes blinked open, revealing a sense of bewilderment as they gazed up at Harald. The weight of this encounter hung heavily in the air, charged with uncertainty and potential consequences that could change their lives forever.

Harald carefully draped his cloak over the man's body, hoping it would offer some comfort and warmth. "Get some more rest. You need to regain your strength."

The man tried to speak, but his voice came out hoarse and barely audible, more of a croak than actual words."Who..." the man rasped, his throat dry and painful. Harald could see the effort it took for him to form even that single word.

Harald hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. He glanced around cautiously as if the trees themselves might be listening. "You're safe," he said finally, his voice low and steady. "For now."

The man's glazed eyes were fixed on him, and he struggled to form words. But nothing came out except a small whimper. A hand grasped his ankle, the closest thing to the stranger's hand. "It's okay, I'll stay with you," Harald reassured him. "Just rest." He felt the grip on his ankle loosen a bit and saw the young man's eyes close again as he settled back into sleep.

Harald tried to calm his now wildly running heart, but it felt almost impossible. His arm tingled as if a thousand needles were squeezing his skin, and it crawled up his arm toward his elbow and over his shoulder. He could feel the burning sensation going down his spine. It wasn't a painful feeling but warm enough to make him take a deep, shaky breath to try and calm his mind.

There was no doubt about it anymore; this was his soulmate because he had never reacted like this to another person's touch.

Harald sat up all night, carefully tending to the man's fever. He constantly checked and replaced the damp cloth on his forehead, grateful that the man's illness hadn't worsened. As he watched over him, Harald racked his brain for solutions. His magic abilities were too weak to transport them both home, and his village was too far away to walk.

Should he wait until the man was able to walk? But that was highly unlikely. His mother would most likely send out a search team before then, but even that would take a few days. Harald let out a loud yawn and rubbed his tired eyes as he looked up at the now slightly brighter sky.

He glanced down at the man he was responsible for, relieved to see that his breathing had improved. Harald examined the wounds on the man's chest, noting that they appeared better than yesterday and the purple discoloration was now a raw red color.

Harald let his fingers stroke the wounds and put in more healing magic, even though he barely had any left.

Harald pressed his forehead against the man's for a moment, focusing his gaze as he attempted to gauge his temperature. The man's fever had not fully subsided from yesterday.

Harald gently pulled away and was surprised when a pair of feverish glossy green eyes met his gaze. A bright blush instantly spread across his cheeks, the heat radiating down his neck and tickling his ears.

"Sorry," he stammered, "I had to check your temperature." The older male blinked slowly in response. "Do you think you can sit up?" Harald asked, feeling the weight of concern settle in his chest. But the dark-haired man shook his head slowly, indicating that he was unable to move.

“Ah, that is all right, but I don’t think you can lay here any longer” Harald looked up and pulled his fingers through his hair, not knowing what he could do. Harald quickly went and dampened the cloth before he brought it back. He carefully placed it back on the man's forehead, causing him to flinch from the sudden temperature change.

"Sorry," Harald said softly, noticing the man's unsteady gaze. "But your fever hasn't gone down yet."

The man’s eyes fluttered closed, and a faint sigh escaped his lips. Harald watched him intently, noticing the faint tremble of his jaw and the way his chest rose and fell with each labored breath. He dipped the cloth back into the water, wrung it out carefully, and pressed it against the man’s forehead once more. This time, there was no flinch, only a small, barely perceptible nod of acknowledgment.

“You’re burning up,” Harald murmured, more to himself than to the man. He sighed and knelt back on his heels, his hands resting on his thighs.

The man’s hand stirred, and before Harald could react, it had brushed against his own. It was warm, too warm, and it sent a shiver up Haralds arm. He hesitated for a moment before turning his hand over, intertwining their fingers. The man’s grip was weak, but it was there, a silent plea for comfort.

“You’re going to be okay,” Harald said softly, his voice steady despite the turmoil in his chest. “I won’t let anything happen to you.” He squeezed the man’s hand gently, trying to convey a reassurance he wasn’t entirely sure he felt himself.

The man’s eyes opened again, and this time, they held a faint glimmer of awareness. His lips parted, and a low, raspy sound emerged, barely intelligible. Harald leaned closer, his ear inches from the man’s mouth. “Water,” the man whispered.

Harald’s heart skipped a beat. He had forgotten to refill the water jug in his haste to tend to the fever. He quickly rose to his feet and fetched it. He returned to the man’s side and carefully lifted his head, cradling it in his lap as he brought the jug to his lips.

The man drank greedily at first, then slower, as if even the act of swallowing drained what little strength he had. Harald watched him, his throat tightening with emotion. When the man finally turned his head away, Harald set the jug down and gently lowered his head back onto the makeshift pallet.

For a long moment, there was only the sound of the man’s uneven breathing. Then, in a voice that was barely audible, he said, “Thank you.”

Harald’s cheeks flushed, and he looked away, fiddling with the edge of the cloth. “You don’t have to thank me,” he muttered. “Just… get better, okay?”

"What..." The man attempted to speak again, but despite the water, his voice was hoarse.

The man's grip on him grew firmer, and Harald looked back to see those green eyes fixed on his, brimming with gratitude that tugged at his heart. He met the gaze briefly before averting his eyes, murmuring, "I don't know what happened to you, but you were badly injured, and on the verge of death when I found you"

Harald glanced up at the stranger. "There's no more poison in the wound now. I've filtered out most of the poison, and the largest wounds are no longer life-threatening."

Suddenly, Harald felt a chill around them. The natural magic lightly brushed over his skin, and over the injured man. There was a sense of warning in the magic. Harald stiffened and straightened. His gaze swept slowly between the tree trunks and the bushes. Something was nearby. Something dangerous.

The injured man noticed that something was wrong and made an attempt to sit up but let out a painful groan. "No, lie still," Harald whispered and placed a slender hand on the man's chest. But even though he was much smaller than the older teenager, he was stronger in this position. Even a gentle breeze could knock him down in this position.

Harald's hand rested on the hilt of his sword and his gaze swept around them again.

The forest around them was eerily silent, the only sound was the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. Harald's grip on his sword tightened as the air grew thick with an ominous energy. The injured man, sensing the tension, struggled to sit up again, his face pale but determined.

"What is it?" he whispered, his voice barely audible over the pounding of Harald's heart.

Harald didn't answer, his eyes scanning the shadows between the trees. The natural magic swirled around him, a gentle hum that grew louder, warning of an approaching threat. Suddenly, a twig snapped in the distance, and Harald's head snapped towards the sound that became voices.

Harald's wrist was suddenly grasped by a warm and clammy hand. He froze, feeling the man's gaze on his soul mark. Harald met his gaze and smiled gently at him. He had opened his mouth to speak but paused as voices grew louder nearby. It dawned on him that they were calling out for someone named -Loki-.

Who would be searching this part of the forest and why? was it who ever had hurt this man or was it his friends?

With a sense of urgency, Harald leaned in close and whispered in a hushed tone, "Are you Loki?" The young man fought to moisten his dry lips and respond, but all that escaped was a weak affirmative noise.

Harald felt the nervousness spread through his body as he heard how the voices were closer now. They sounded worried and yelled at each other to shut up, and something about enemies could come at any moment.

So they were looking for this man.. this Loki… his soulmate. Harald’s eyes landed on the wounded man. He would not be able to help him more than he have done. A primal sense of fear crept up Harald's spine, causing his muscles to tense and his mind to race. Magic wanted him gone from there.

And just like that, Harald knew that he had to leave before the situation escalated; what if they accused him of being the one responsible for their friend's harm? As he struggled to get back on his feet, the grip around his ankle tightened, and he could see the glint of panic in Loki's eyes as he desperately tried to hold on.

"Don't worry," Harald reassured him, "we will see each other again when the time is right." He looked up in the direction of the voices and could now see the tip of a spear over the bushes.

"I'm sorry," Harald softly spoke, gently loosening Loki's grip with ease as he was still weak. "I have to go,"

It was hard even to tear himself from the side of his soulmates; he pulled himself up, and the dark-haired man’s weak grip quickly loosened. He swallowed hard and retreated, he didn't want to leave Loki like this, but he couldn't stay either.

Loki was now trying to move after him, giving off a louder painful groan as his injured body protested the movement. But that was all that was needed to warn the voices because suddenly Harald could hear heavy running footsteps, and the armor splash was now not far from their position.

"N... no, " Loki's hoarse voice trembled as he reached out a hand in desperation. Harald met Loki's panicked eyes one last time. Harald quickly had to avert his eyes from Loki's piercing gaze and took off running.

He gently but firmly pulled his arm free. "I have to go," he said again, his voice barely above a whisper. "We meet again, I promise. When magic allows us"

Loki's eyes filled with tears, and he reached out again, but Harald turned and ran, the sounds of his pursuers closing in. He could hear Loki's anguished cry echoing through the forest, a sound that cut deeper than any wound.

As he ran, the trees seemed to blur around him, and the fear of being caught mingled with the ache of leaving Loki behind. He knew he had to keep moving. So Harald just ran, the forest floor beneath his feet and the weight of his heart in his chest.

He could hear shouts coming from behind, and for a second he thought that they would hunt him down. But with every step he took, it felt as though he was tearing out his own heart as he fled further away from the man he had just discovered knowing that one day they would meet again.

.⬝:*¨¨*:⬝.💓.⬝:*¨¨*:⬝.☯.⬝:*¨¨*:⬝.💓.⬝:*¨¨*:⬝.

Harry jolted awake with a start, his heart drumming in his chest like a war march. He flung the tangled blanket off his legs and struggled to stand on his trembling limbs. Every movement sent sharp waves of agony through his body, especially in his throbbing head which felt like it was about to burst open.

The room spun around him, the walls seemingly breathing in and out as if taunting him. Sweat dripped down his face and his hands shook uncontrollably as he tried to steady himself. It was as if he had been hit by a furious storm while he slept, leaving him battered and broken upon waking up.

Harry fought to keep a groan from escaping his lips. He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his hands against his head in a frantic effort to contain the intense emotions as he stumbled towards the bathroom.

With little warning, his body forced him to bend over the toilet, forcefully emptying its contents.

The vomiting stopped as quickly as it began, and he was left trembling on the cold bathroom floor. The initial pain and discomfort in his body began to subside, but a strange tingling sensation remained in his arm, pulsing and almost vibrating with intensity.

Harry slumped against the frigid porcelain seat, his head throbbing in agony. Each beat of his heart sent a wave of pain pulsing through his temples. Cold tears streamed down his cheeks, tracing a path over the sharp angles of his face. The relentless ache only grew stronger, until it consumed every thought and sensation, leaving Harry numb and hollow inside. He was no longer able to think or feel, lost in a fog of endless torment.

Eventually, Harry must have drifted off to sleep because when he woke up again, his head no longer throbbed as intensely, and his legs were able to move without discomfort. He struggled to get up, feeling stiff all over, but managed to rinse out his mouth and wash his face before leaving the bathroom.

What had happened? Harry remembered having a lifelike dream of something, a boy and a man?. He fought back the scream that clawed its way up his throat, a sensation he had never experienced before. Hot tears streamed down his face, and he struggled to take deep breaths to calm himself. He quickly checked his occlumency shields, still intact and preventing any outside intrusion. But that dream was beyond anything he had ever encountered before.

Harry slowly lifted his eyes to the mirror above the sink and was taken aback. For a brief moment, he thought he was still asleep. In the mirror reflection, he saw a version of himself that appeared more mature than the boy in his dream.

Harry raised a hand and his reflection did the same. A frown deepened between his eyes and he stuck out his tongue and the man in the mirror did the same.

He had seen many strange things since he had been introduced to magic. But he had never heard of anything like this before. Had the dream triggered some kind of strange magic or whatever this may be?

His eyes now had a deeper hue of emerald, with a distinct line of gold surrounding his iris as the wethes of his tears made them almost shine. This added intensity to his gaze, something that was not present before. However, this color was different from his late mother's well-known green eyes which people often praised him for. It was the only thing he had left to remember her by.

Harry lifted his hand to his forehead and lightly brushed the sides of his head, causing his reflector to mimic the gesture. He then ran his fingers through his hair, which now reached down to his neck and had a natural curl at the ends. It was hard to believe that this was the same short-haired boy from just a few days ago. He vaguely remembered hating getting haircuts as a child because Aunt Petunia always seemed to butcher it right before school started.

But this felt different.

Harry's fingers ran through his dark, tousled hair once more before tugging on it gently, causing a sharp pain to radiate from his scalp. As he let go, strands of hair stuck to his hand, evidence of his nervous habit. He then shifted his hand to the bridge of his nose, where his glasses used to rest comfortably. Ever since their sudden disappearance ( with the aid of magic) a few years back, he couldn't help but feel haunted by their absence, instinctively reaching for them even though they no longer needed to be there.

Harry’s s eyes widened in pure shock. He couldn't panic, not yet. Especially not now that his gaze zoomed in on something else that had caught his attention. His mouth felt dry as he tried to swallow, but there was no moister so it felt like trying to swallow sand.

His chest heaved with heavy breaths as his eyes scanned his wrist, noticing the drastic change in its appearance. The once-pale skin was now adorned with intricate vines, delicately winding around his arm in a mesmerizing pattern. He couldn't help but admire the way the golden yellow band at the base of his wrist stood out against the vibrant greenery enveloping it. It was like a work of art, nature's masterpiece painted on his very own body.

The once soft and pliable vines was now growing firmer and were reaching higher up his arm towards his elbow as he watched the magic unravel. Leaving angry red marks in its wake. Like the vines were growing underneath his skin.

The small flower buds were tinged with a greenish-blue color, on the brink of blooming but not quite there yet. Harry knew this flower well; it was one he had grown accustomed to during all those years of being forced to clear out the Dursley's garden. They called it a "rubbish flower" and a weed.

It was a sea of Forget-me-not.

As the Forget-me-nots rested on his arm, Harry felt a shiver run down his spine. The vines seemed to respond to his emotions, their gentle twine around his arm tightening, not in malice, but as if in comfort. The golden band glimmered faintly, casting a warm light on the surrounding skin.

The pain from the vines' growth was undeniable, but it was overshadowed by the strange sense of calm that settled over him. Harry's fingers brushed against the bud.

The vines continued their ascent, wrapping around his forearm, the red marks a testament to their relentless growth. Yet, amidst the discomfort, Harry felt a strange connection, as though the vines were a part of him, a symbol of the love and strength he carried within.

The Forget-me-nots, now closer to blooming, seemed to pulse with a soft light as they were happy to finally be visible. Harry tried to keep his panic at bay as the first petal unfolded, a delicate blue hue shimmered in the dim light. As the Forget-me-nots began to bloom, their gentle glow illuminating the room as magic riped through his limbs.

The vines, now a deep, rich green, continued their ascent, wrapping around Harry's upper arm, their tender touch a stark contrast to the initial sting of their growth. The golden band at his wrist pulsed softly, as if in rhythm with his heartbeat.

Harry's breath caught as a petal of the first flower opened, revealing a center that shimmered like liquid gold. The light emanating from the bloom was warm and comforting, and he felt a strange sense of peace settle over him. The vines seemed to hum with soft, melodic energy, their gentle vibrations a lullaby to his frazzled nerves.

As Harry watched, the second flower bloomed, its petals unfurling like tiny wings. The light from the two flowers intertwined, casting intricate patterns on the walls around him. The room seemed to fade away around him, leaving only the soft glow of the Forget-me-nots.

The golden band glimmered brighter now, and Harry felt a surge of energy flow through him. Harry closed his eyes, letting the warmth of the light wash over him, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, he felt a sense of clarity.

The vines had reached his shoulder, their tendrils curling gently around it but no flowers bloomed there yet. Only on his arm. Harry took a deep breath and imagined that the air was filled with the sweet scent of the flowers. There was something in the air, something in the magic that was pulsing around him, singing, calling for him. Telling him that there was no time.

Telling him that -He- was waiting for him.

Chapter Text

Harry was used to not being like everyone else. It was something he had never been good at. To be different. But he did at first, believe, that whatever had happened to him would have been just a minor magical illness.

But the pain came back again, and again, and again.

And with the pain, Harry had these strange, insanely realistic dreams and his body decided that it was time for him to change. Harry had still no idea of who his dream man had been, the dreams he had after the first one had been only of the boy and his struggle with containing magic, arguing with his family storming off to god knows where, and having magic pull him back.

Harry now sat in his dimly lit living room, the shadows of the evening casting long fingers across the walls. The fire crackled softly, but it offered little comfort for his fragile mind.

Harry’s mind was, at this moment, a whirlwind of questions, each more unsettling than the last. The dreams had started a week ago, each one more vivid, more real than the last. He could smell the damp earth, feel the rough bark beneath his fingers, and hear the distant howl of wolves. But it was the pain that lingered, a sharp, stabbing ache that seemed to echo long after he woke.

He reached for his wand, more out of habit than necessity. The familiar weight of it in his hand was a small comfort, but it did little to ease the growing sense of unease. Something was wrong, and he knew it. The changes after each dream were subtle at first— like a whisper of a voice that wasn’t his own. But last night had been different. Last night, he had woken to find his living room transformed. The furniture was rearranged up against the wall, and the walls had been painted a deep, foreboding grey.

Honestly, Harry had already started on a very long ‘what the hell is happening with him list’. So far, it's quite a long one. He closed his eyes, trying to recall the details of the last dream. There had been a forest, dark and twisted, the trees looming overhead like sentinels. There had been a figure in the distance, someone he couldn’t quite see. And there had been a feeling, a feeling of loss, of grief, of something wrong.

Taking a deep breath, Harry redirected his focus to the source of his current frustration: the person sitting on his couch, spewing out an endless stream of positive comments. Harry was tempted to cast a Hex or two at his best mate.

"Long hair suits you."

“Sod off," Harry sighed, dragging his hand through his hair to get it out of his face.

Harry's fantastic new list now also included his uncontrollable hair growth. His once unruly short locks were now reaching down to his shoulders in thick, jet-black waves. It was all becoming absurd and terrifying at the same time. He felt like he was about to panic, but something was holding him back, suppressing his emotions like a lid on a boiling pot.

It was frustrating.

"It illuminates your beautiful eyes." Ron's voice was rough with laughter even if he refused to look at him.

A shiver shot through Harry's body, causing the stack of papers next to him to fly off his desk in a gust of wind. Gasping, he looked around the room in shock, realizing that he must have accidentally cast a spell. His eyes landed on Ron, who was doubled over with laughter at the chaos Harry had caused.

"Glad it seems to amuse you, Ron. Can we take this a little more seriously now?" growled Harry irritably, resisting his urge to retch for his wand again. He was so incredibly close to hex Ron to the next millennium if he didn't start taking this seriously.

Harry pulled back his annoying hair again and tried to get the tassel to sit in place with a hard jerk, but he failed as it just slid down. And -that- was another problem Harry had noticed. His hair hadn't just suddenly decided to grow, even though he's already taken to both magic, and the scissors to try to cut it back to normal. Only for the next day, it would have grown out again, an inch longer.

But whatever he did, it was as if his hair had taken on a life of its own; it refused to remain in the place that would serve as a prison for the thick hair. His hair was long enough that he could stick it together in a short ponytail, but his newly formed bangs didn't seem to understand what he wanted it to do. Harry had even tried to use vanity spells and charms, but no matter what he did, that horrible hair seemed to have a life of its own.

After the war, Harry claimed his titles, both as the lord of the Potters and the Black, as Sirius had put down his name into the next inline when he was only a baby. By blood rituals. Something that Harry had never known before he had visited Gringotts after the whole war was over.

Hermione had decided to return to Hogwarts for the last year. While He and Ron had been accepted into the Auror program without any hassle. The Aurors had been happy to have them in their force after everything that had happened. And with their familiarity with the fieldwork, none had any problems passing the exams.

After much consideration, they decided that all three would move into the Potter mansion, which Harry was happy about because it was too big just for him. Sure, he still had Grimmauld’s place, but there were too many memories of Sirius. And Harry didn't want to admit it. He didn't want to be alone because then he would be alone with his mind and thoughts, which wasn't a pretty picture.

Harry suspected that both Ron and Hermione had the same problem, and with the three under the same roof, they felt safer. He could start and relax and not look over his shoulder all the time when Hermione was back at Hogwarts, and Ron made it up the Ministerial with great force.

On the other hand, Harry had no idea what he wanted anymore; after an extra difficult task of gathering Death Eaters, he was stunned and frightened that he felt so empty and indifferent when the man died in front of him. He had stared down at those vacant eyes and felt nothing.

It no longer felt right, and it scared him as he saw it as a part of life, we live, and we die. It was as if something inside him wouldn't listen; he wanted to see them burn and die at his feet. He was pleased that he had shown them he was not powerless. It was as if his heart and brain were no longer in harmony.

After that incident, he decided he needed an extended vacation, which began immediately. Harry had enough wealth now to never work again in his life, so he decided to restore the Potter mansion on his own. It was more like a therapeutic retreat than anything else, making him feel close to his parents.

"Okay, okay, sorry," Ron's voice brought him back to the present, and Harry looked over at him as he raised his hands in a peaceful gesture. Han didn't sound sorry at all that bloody prick.

Bloody annoying Weasleys.

Ron stood up and reached out to him. This made Harry pause, staring at his hand, and then look up at him questioningly, with no idea what he wanted him to do.

Ron rolled his eyes, "Hand it over; I’ll help you."

"What?"

"Which of us has a sister?" asked Ron, grinning. "I always helped Ginny when she was younger with her hair. It didn't have its own life that yours probably has, but what's new about you being different?” He commented, and Harry sighed dejectedly, ripping off the offended band, and the half-length black hair fell into a mess around his face.

"Just do it," he murmured; this couldn't get any worse than it was. Ron grinned as he walked behind Harry, gathered his hair by hand, then soaked the tassels with water before fastening them tightly,

"There you go, mate. "

Harry fingered the bun on the back of his neck and grinned. It felt weird, but his hair suddenly decided to stay in place.

"– This is bloody brilliant!” Harry turned around and walked to the full body mirror, looking at the head and tuft that was now holding it together properly. “How did you do that?”

"Magic," Ron said teasingly, waving his fingers but dodging a pillow that suddenly came flying at him.

"Oh, bugger, come on! You're doing it again," Ron yelped as he ducked from the pillows that were thrown his way. Harry, still standing by the mirror, waved his hand to get the pillow to attack his red-haired friend with a grin.

A yelp was heard as an oversized decorative pillow walloped Ron in the back. Sending him face-first down into the cushions.

"Not fair!"

"I'm not playing fair with those who don't deserve it," Harry said, but he felt sorry for the red-haired man who was now almost buried in the pillows. He looked down at his hand and noticed his shirt was a little longer than it had been. Had he shrunk? Harry fingered the seam for a moment before magically reducing it without any problems.

"Huh," Since when could he perform wandless magic this well?

Ron crawled, muttered the pillows, and shook his head. "You know, I asked Ginny that once why she didn't fix her hair with magic." Without noticing Harry's thoughtful expression he continued."She had the same problem as you. It comes from the fact that some individuals leak their magic unconsciously all the time. Have you ever wondered why Hermione has issues with her hair the way she does? "

Harry couldn't exactly say he was even thinking about it, "Good to know. How do we get it to stop growing? "

"Absolutely no idea," Ron said, stuffing a caramel into his mouth as he sank back onto the couch. " Maybe someone pranked you?”

Harry rubbed his face, giving off a frustrating sight.

"No, I don't think that is the case." Why did this happen to him? Why couldn't he just live peacefully and without anything else happening to him? Now he had strange dreams and wild hair that decided to have a life of his own.

In addition, the headache that pounded on his sore skull would soon become his death. Harry had tried everything; the pain relief potions no longer worked as they used to, and sleep only brought him more pain and strange dreams. He had even started taking the double even to get the slightest effect without any success, it was like his body started to become immune to it or had a will of its own.

"Harry, are you okay?" the redhead suddenly asked, as he had been silent for a while. The previously amused voice was now full of worry for his friend. "You look like you are in pain again; do you need me to pick up Hermione? Maybe it's a new attack?"

Attack, yes, that's what they called the massive headache that popped up, and almost swept him in each time. It wasn't that there was always a new dream coming to him when it happened. Sometimes his body burned and hurt as if someone broke his bones and tore his muscles apart, only to pull him together differently.

Harry rubbed his temples, feeling the weight of exhaustion and frustration settling in. Everything was off today, and he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. His body felt strange, and even his magic seemed to be affected. He could barely eat anything without feeling sick, subsisting on plain bread and water. He needed something to make it all go away.

Ron's strong arm appears at Harry's side, holding him up as he struggles to stay upright. His expression turns from playful concern to genuine worry. "Harry, you're barely able to stand," he says urgently. "You need to rest before you collapse."

Harry gritted his teeth and held back a groan as a sharp pain shot through his eyes. He managed to nod slightly in response to Ron's remark, but the pulsing agony made it difficult to focus. It felt like the pain was coming from deep within his head, threatening to burst out at any moment. He couldn't shake the feeling that he should just lie down and give in to the pull of sleep, despite the strange dreams that seemed to plague him lately.

These dreams, while strange, were also oddly comforting as they were filled with images of books and knowledge - something Harry craved more than anything. He often woke up with vivid memories of these dreams, as if they were real experiences etched into his mind. It was almost as if he carried pieces of his dream world with him into reality

"Rest," the redhead said as he placed a blanket over Harry’s body. “I'll wake you up if Herms finds anything.”

Harry could only nod as he lay down on the couch, his head hadn't even been laid on the pillow before he drifted away, and a new dream invaded his mind.

.⬝:*¨¨*:⬝.💓.⬝:*¨¨*:⬝.☯.⬝:*¨¨*:⬝.💓.⬝:*¨¨*:⬝.

The room they walked into was huge.

Above, the ornate ceiling glimmered with massive gold ornaments, not a single inch left untouched by the skilled hands of artists. The far wall boasted towering windows that stretched from floor to ceiling, their weighty drapes pulled back by thick golden ropes. At the end of the room stood majestic tables crafted from rich, dark wood, groaning under the weight of sumptuous food, decadent pastries, and glistening fruits spilling out of an old, overflowing gaze.

The scent of spices and roasted meats wafted through the air, beckoning guests to indulge in the feast before them. Every corner of the room was adorned with intricate tapestries and shimmering candlelight, creating an atmosphere fit for royalty.

Harald could see that many guests were already in a festive mood, both men and women were all exclusively dressed, and laughter filled the air. There were even some fairies and elves there too. He could recognize their appearance because they had a different attraction to the surroundings than others; it was as if they were absorbing all the light as they moved fleetingly among the guests.

Harald's heart raced as he watched his parents being introduced to the court. He avoided meeting anyone's gaze, aware of the burning stares directed at them. Some people were curious about his family, others seemed scared, and there were even a few who glared at them with hostility.

Harald knew why all eyes were on them; their kind was not often seen mingling with others. As part of their race, they were met with preconceived notions and opinions wherever they went. They were often viewed as wild beasts and monsters, which was somewhat accurate.

They possessed heightened animalistic instincts, but at their core, they were beings of magic. Compared to other creatures, he and his family appeared more human because of their elevated magical abilities and social status, much like the Mother-queen. They were more powerful than most and attuned to external energies or influences.

Harald despised these lavish events; he longed to be out in the wild, free from the constraints of society. A hundred days of forced merriment felt like an endless nightmare to him. He couldn't help but feel like it was all just a cruel joke. As he stood among the crowd, he felt exposed and vulnerable, yearning to disappear into the darkness and avoid any curious stares directed his way.

In honor of this enchanted evening, he donned a regal cobalt blue tunic that cascaded down to his knees. The exquisite garment was adorned with intricate patterns and fastened to his waist with a beautifully crafted brown belt. A crisp white undershirt peeked out from the edges of the tunic, its soft fabric billowing gently over his arms and concealing his soulmate mark.

His jet-black hair was styled in an elegant knot, decorated with delicate ornaments, and intertwined with a luxurious blue silk ribbon. But despite the careful attention paid to his hair, it had already begun to loosen and frame his face, giving him a more delicate, feminine appearance. As they made their way through the crowd, he could hear whispers spreading like wildfire as his family stod in line for show their respect to the royal family of Asgard.

Harald lifted his head and straightened his posture to exude more confidence than he felt he had. It was a habit he forced himself to do, as he despised being reminded of how short he was compared to his family and friends. He only came up to his father's chin, and even his mother towered over him by at least half a head.

His father would just laugh and shake his head in amusement whenever Harald brought up his height complex. Only to remind him that his magical ability had real potential to become one of the most powerful in the nine worlds, but that didn't matter to Harald. All he felt was annoyance at the constant attention on his mark and people's expectations of him.

Frankly, he was tired of it all. His height barely reached his sister's for norns sake! and she was already quite petite. She stood beside him in a form-fitting cherry-pink dress that accentuated her curves. Her silver-gray hair was beautifully braided and fastened with the same pearl ornament he had in his hair.

Her eyes were profoundly amber, her lips were red as sun-ripened strawberries, and around her neck was the soft lavendel band of her soul mark that had yet begun to bloom. All in all, she was a beautiful young woman, and she knew it.

As they walked behind their parents, Harald glanced at his sister. Her annoyed expression was enough to make him cringe, and he could practically hear her complaining in his mind, urging him to toughen up and bear through the torturous experience. He suppressed a grimace, determined not to let it show on his face.

Once they stopped in front of the royal family, they bowed in respect, and when Harald straightened up, he suddenly felt an intense shiver go through him. His brain shut down at the incredible sensation, and Harald slowly raised his gaze to the royal family.

For the first time in ten years, Harald's eyes met a pair of deep jade green ones staring directly at him with surprise. His mouth instantly went dry, as if all the saliva had been drained out of his throat and replaced with a spoonful of ash. He could feel the magic licking at his skin and by the slight widen of the young princes eyes, he could feel it to.

Harald struggled to steady his racing heart and quiet the nerves that threatened to overwhelm him. His mark burned with a fierce intensity, reminding him of the stakes of this encounter. He felt suffocated by the piercing gaze of the jade-green eyes, as if they were digging into his very soul. Yet, he couldn't tear his gaze away from the enchanting prince with black hair, torn between fear and a strange attraction. Harald suddenly felt his sister's hand pull lightly on his arm, and the spell was broken.

"You're staring," she murmured. "Behave"

He quickly looked at her before looking down and grimacing at her tone. He wanted to snap at her that he had every right in the world to stare at his mate. But he didn't because he didn't have that right.

“You don’t need to remind me, dear sister,” he muttered back, and she raised her chin, showing off her elegant neck in response.

As their parents left to socialize with the other guests, Harald felt a fiery gaze on his back as he walk away from his soulmate yet again. However, he forced himself to be social for a while longer before he could escape the event taking place. He needed to compose himself and control his emotions before they erupted and caused chaos in the room.

Harald was not accustomed to important occasions like this, and his magical abilities were struggling to stay contained. After a bit of time, he apologized and gracefully excused himself without being impolite. Outside, darkness had fallen and the wide open doors allowed cool air to flow inside

Around the walls were vast tapestries of freshly lit candles as thick as his forearms and probably the same length. It gave the room a vague and mysterious impression and from the large ceiling hung a dozen large crystal chandeliers lit up the dance floor.

He had never understood why a palace needed so much decoration or gold hanging everywhere. But Asgard was well known for being one of the fiercest warrior peoples; living and fighting were in their blood. They were dangerous to their enemies and very protective of their loved ones; it was, of course, a large part of these warriors who made peace possible along with the Valkyria.

Strength was not Harald's forte; he had trained in the art of war, but his body was not built for heavy weapons or close combat. He preferred a more strategic approach to battles, using cunning and trickery to defeat his opponents. But when all else failed, his wild and untamed magic always came through. Harald was known as a powerful magical being, and no one in his realm doubted his royal lineage. Ironically, his supposed soulmate held the title of god of magic, making them quite the powerful duo.

Every century, Asgard's royal family held a grand banquet to celebrate the peace over their world and make new political contacts.

The festivities lasted for a hundred days and one night; this was the fourth day of celebrations, meetings, and political events that would occur later in several months. He was sure there would even be competitions to brag about his abilities or have a legal excuse to knock someone to the ground.

Harald nervously pulled on the arm of his tunic. He had seen several guests proudly display their soulmate marks. They were clear for everything and everyone to see in the hope that their chosen one would notice it or show that they had already been taken. But Harald didn't have to show his wrist to the world. He already knew his soulmate, and after today, so did he. The only question was, how would he dare to meet the Asgardian prince now? After everything and how he had left him?

He hadn't seen Loki once since he'd taken care of him from the brink of death. At first, it was about him being ashamed; he had escaped from his soulmate, the one that was said to be the other half of his soul, his perfect match.

But it had then become clear that he would not be able to get away from his kingdom for a while. An awakening of his soul mark had come with a new boost of his magic. Considering that he already had a lot of wild magic before, it didn't help that it almost doubled in a short time, and he had a hard time controlling it.

Even his plan to become heir to Death had been put on hold because Death had chosen three Midgardians to take it instead. If this was the desire of faith, then it countered.

Harald let out a heavy sigh and felt his whole body tense. As if he was just waiting to be jumped. He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes, listening to the strain of happy guests and the music playing.

He had no idea how to deal with the situation. Should he just go ahead and introduce himself? It felt like the most logical thing to do, but the question was just how. The tickling sensation that swept across his arm and back suddenly felt burning, an annoying reminder to see what he avoided, and he bit down on his lip.

Harald remembered the tormented and almost betrayed look in Loki’s eyes that he had fled all those years before. Would Loki hate him now? Was it already too late? Perhaps he already had a partner he loved and had already forgotten about him?

He took a choppy breath as the reality of his thought struck him. Shit, shit, shit, what was he going to do? What was he going to say? Should he say something? Should he apologize for how cowardly he was? But he had only been a child, and standing up to adult warriors wasn’t something he could do in that situation.

He had followed them in the distance to see that Loki was well taken care of and that he had not abandoned his soulmate to his enemy. But the care the blonde mountain of Aesir had given Loki reassured him when they entered the rainbow-colored portal.

Harald sighed heavily and lowered his gaze to the floor again. Maybe he should let it be? His eye was fascinated by the fact that the floor was as beautifully decorated as the rest of the room. The polished stone had small veins of glittering golden veins that glittered under the light of the lamp. He could hear the laughter and music around him but was content to stand in the shadow of the pillar that served as his screen for the outside world as he tried to calm his mind down.

Suddenly, he could see a pair of impeccably polished black boots standing directly in front of him. His breath caught as he slowly raised his gaze to take in the rest of the outfit. The sleek black pants seemed to stretch on for miles, tailored to perfection and adorned with intricate decorative seams that crawled across their surface. Next came a green tunic, equally elegant and made from the finest fabric, framed by a sleeveless coat in matching black. Together, they formed a complete and breathtaking Asgardian ceremonial dress, fit for a royal or warrior alike.

His heart pounded in his chest, and his hands felt damp with sweat as he realized that the person in front of him was who he was afraid to face. Harald lifted his gaze quickly, despite the apparent nervousness, all the way up to the handsome face and intense eyes that nailed him to his place when he faced them again, and he was frozen stiff.

His breathing stuck in his throat as Loki stared down at him with a blank expression on his face.

Harald swallowed hard, "My.... prince...". Why was he here? Did he know? No, he could not know; Harald had hidden his mark so that no one could see it. So why did Loki stare at him with that burning gaze? Eyes like a dark forest in its grand prime. Was he angry? he must be, Harald thought as those eyes darkened.

Harald's thoughts swirled in his mind, consumed with worries and fears. But he snapped back to reality when he noticed Loki's lips moving, realizing he hadn't heard a single word that had been said.

Feeling a knot form in his stomach, Harald wanted to apologize and ask for clarification. He couldn't afford to humiliate another prince, especially not his soulmate.

As the Prince of Asgard looked down at the stunned teenager, he couldn't help but let out a low chuckle. "You haven't been listening to me at all, have you, Prince Harald?" Loki asked, his voice both dark and strangely soothing.

The boy felt almost violated by the intense gaze and tone of Loki's words. Before he could become overwhelmed with emotion, Harald took a deep breath and shook his head in response."I apologize," he forced himself out, grimacing at his voice cracking. "That wasn't my intention. I was lost in my thoughts, my liege..."

Loki hummed lowly, " I accept your apology but on one condition, little one."

Harald bit the inside of his chin. He barely stopped his mouth to say he would do anything to deserve his forgiveness.

"Dance with me. "

Harald's mouth hung open in shock as he gazed at Loki. He couldn't believe what he was hearing and felt like his brain had stopped functioning. Surely, he must have misheard. But then, Loki reached out his hand to him, and Harald was too stunned to do anything but stare at it in disbelief.

"May I have this dance?" Loki's voice was soft, and he had a captivating smile, and the mere sight of it made butterflies flutter in Harald’s stomach.

As Harald reached out his hand and placed it in his partner's eager palm, a surge of electricity shot through both of them. At that moment, something changed in Loki's expression. He now wore a satisfied and triumphant smile, as if this gesture was the final piece to his puzzle. Slowly, he led them onto the dance floor, where a kaleidoscope of colors swirled around in the form of dancing figures.

Women in beautiful and exclusive dresses and the men with ornate outfits of all their colors moved in time with the music. As the music started to ebb and give a little pause to let people get off the dance floor or stay if they wanted the next song. They walked onto the floor.

Harald was standing opposite Loki, who bent slightly, and when he straightened up, his hand was placed against Harald's waist. The music began to play again slowly, and Harald tried to calm down his beating heart. But it felt almost impossible because his gaze was fixed on the older man's face, who stared down at him as he held him close.

His intense green eyes held him captive, as if he feared disappearing if he broke their gaze. They swayed in a gentle circle to the soft music, Loki's arm guiding them with grace and elegance among the other dancers. Harald could feel the heat of Loki's hand at his waist, searing through his clothes. Though his steps were hesitant, Loki expertly twirled him around in light circles.

"Relax," Loki muttered, squeezing his hand, "I'm not going to make you fall and make a fool of yourself. ”

Harald gave him an annoyed look, easy for him to say! Everyone around them had paused in their dance and was now staring at them openly. Harald began to feel increasingly uncomfortable with the attention on them, and his whole being told her to flee. But simultaneously, the Asgardian prince kept him in a stable and secure grip.

"Just look at me like there's no one else here," Loki said, taking a step back, and pulling Harald with him. "Never mind the others.”

As Harald snorted, his nerves short-circuited his brain and he couldn't help but answer sarcastically, "You too good looking, you will blind me if I do that and then I will cause a scene. Maybe we're going to dance into someone and crash down and make a huge mess. Then they will have something other to look at.” His anxious rambling continued despite knowing it wasn't helping the situation. He still couldn't believe how he ended up in this predicament that was way above his capabilities. Dancing was not his fort.

The young prince’s humming made the newly formed lump in his chest vibrate, sending an electric sensation right through Harald, and he held back the blush that threatened to occur. "It's not me they're looking at, love," Loki continued, pulling him away and then taking him back. “ No, they look at the beautiful fae dancing partner I managed to catch in my golden net. "

Harald stumbled over his feet at his words, but Loki was quickly there, catching him and, with an elegant motion, performing a new movement to hide Harald’s mistake, looking amused at his smaller dance partner. Harald couldn't stop the hot blush that made his entire face and neck painfully hot this time.

"So, the rumors are true; that silver tongue you have is deadly," Harald said in a low voice. He had to gain some control over himself, but his magic started to trickle out of him anyway.

Loki turned and pressed his chest against Harald's back, sending a jolt of electricity through his body. Harald leaned in closer, feeling the softness of Loki's magic surrounding him like a warm blanket. Their arms stretched out as they danced, almost hesitant to let go as the magic lingered between them.

"You shouldn't listen to all the rumors you hear," Loki spoke in a hoarse voice as he held him close, his eyes burning into Harald's own.

"Do you deny the rumors then?" Harald asked, shivering as Loki's every breath fell over his neck as he bent his head closer to his, and he must have imagined the feeling spreading within him.

"No"

His heart pounded against his chest as if trying to escape. His mouth was parched, and swallowing felt like trying to swallow sand. Loki's arm wrapped around him again, pulling him closer. The warmth from Loki's body seeped into his back, causing his breath to catch as their magic intertwined without hesitation or questioning.

The soul mark sent hot pulses up his arm and chest. The feeling lit a fire within him that he had never felt before. Harald could not find the energy or the will to create larger spaces between them.

He looked up at Loki as he was led around the dance floor, everything around Harald suddenly beginning to fade. He could still hear the music playing in the background but only focused on his dance partner, who smiled down at him.

A tingling sensation coursed through his body, every nerve on fire with the magic swirling around them. Loki's face was mere inches from his own, their breath intermingled in an intoxicating mix. A wave of warmth washed over him as he gazed into the depths of Loki's captivating eyes. It was like drowning in a sea of desire, yet somehow staying afloat in each other's embrace.

The heat from their closeness seared his already sensitive lips, and he longed for them to be pressed against those of his dance partner. He could sense the same longing in Loki's gaze as it flickered down to his mouth, igniting a mutual need that burned between them.

But the sudden applause brought him back to reality, and in surprise, Harald jerked away from the warm body. He let go of Loki as if he had been electrocuted, with shocked eyes at what he had wanted to do. He gave him a stiff bow before quickly turning around and fleeing the rooms. New dancer sets took their place.

No. No. No, this can’t be happening.

What is he thinking? How could he let this happen, especially now? Harald rushed out of the massive glass door and onto the porch, disappearing into the darkness outside. As if on instinct, he began pacing back and forth on the porch, running his hand through his hair in frustration, inadvertently ruining the delicate bun he had carefully styled earlier.

But it had already done its thing, and it was a miracle that the hair stayed where it had been for so long. He pulled out his tassels and leaned against the stone railing, staring at the beautifully lit maze below the balcony.

He ran his hand through his hair again and shook it out better, his long black hair reaching down to his waist and draping over his shoulders as he tilted his head forward. His heartbeat was painfully stiff, and he grabbed his shirt and bit into it as the blush threatened to spread across his neck and cheeks again.

He'd been so close to kissing him; he diden’t even know the man! it was to fast. Suddenly, he felt someone else's presence behind him. The magical scent surrounding him had become as familiar to his senses as his own, even after only bathing in it once, which was almost 5 minutes ago.

Harald closed his eyes tightly but refused to look up or turn around, he both heard and felt Loki getting closer, but he was too scared to look at him. A soft scent of flowers suddenly hit his senses, and Harald opened his eyes in surprise, staring down at a bouquet of forget-me-nots held directly in front of him.

Harald stared down at the blue baby flowers before slowly looking up at the soft smiling prince next to him. Loki's gaze was dark and intense, but there was something else there, too, something he couldn't put into words.

"A word of warning, little one. I won't let you run away from me a second time."

Harald's breath stuck in his throat, and he tried to swallow around the lump created there while receiving the bouquet with shaking fingers. He didn't know how to interpret the words, nor did he know what to answer. He could only stare up at the handsome prince's amused face.

"And who says I'm going to run away?" Harral asked as he tried to calm himself down, " Who knows, I might wake up tomorrow, and it's all just been a dream."

Loki's hand reached out to lightly touch Harald's arm, the same arm where their soul mark was located. Their gazes locked as Loki began opening the thread that held Harald’s tunic together over his arm, revealing his underarms. All the while, he never broke eye contact with Harald. Only when his forearm was exposed did Loki finally look down and see the blooming symbol of Forget-Me-Nots and yellow peon decorating his skin.

Loki tenderly touched his skin, causing Harald to shudder and close his eyes. But he quickly opened them when he felt something moist on his skin, and a deep blush instantly spread across his cheeks and neck as he saw Loki gently pressing his lips against the inside of his wrist in a gentle kiss.

"At last, I have found you," Loki whispered. "My beloved soulmate"

Loki’s breath against Harald’s wrist sent a shiver cascading through his body, a soft gasp escaping his lips as the touch ignited a spark in his very core. Harald’s thoughts scrambled to find coherent words to deny what was unfolding before him, but nothing could come forth as his brain and heart battled in silence.

"You," Harald’s voice faltered as his arm still tingled where Loki had pressed his lips. As though the word held the weight of a thousand unspoken thoughts. Loki's lips lingered against his wrist, the warmth of his breath a stark contrast to the chill that ran down Harald's spine. He wanted to pull away, to escape the intensity of the moment, but his body seemed rooted to the spot, captive to the prince's gentle yet unyielding touch.

Loki's gaze never wavered, his eyes locked on Harald's as if daring him to deny the undeniable. The room around them faded into silence, the only sound the soft rustle of fabric as Loki's fingers brushed against the edge of Harald's tunic. The air was thick with tension, heavy with the unspoken words that hung between them like a challenge.

"You ran once," Loki murmured, his voice low and smooth, like the first rumblings of thunder before a storm. "But you cannot run forever." His lips pressed against Harald's skin once more, a fleeting kiss that sent a shiver coursing through Harald's body. "You are mine, Harald. My soulmate. My destiny."

Harald's heart pounded in his chest, each beat a reminder of the truth he could no longer ignore. The symbol on his arm seemed to pulse with a life of its own, as though it too recognized the connection that neither of them could deny. He wanted to argue, to scream that this was all some cruel joke, but the words caught in his throat, refusing to be set free.

As Harald stood frozen, the weight of Loki's words pressed upon him like an unseen force. The room seemed to shrink, leaving only the two of them suspended in a world of their own. Loki's hand still rested on his arm, warm and unyielding, a constant reminder of the connection they shared. The soul mark on his forearm pulsed softly, as if echoing the rhythm of his racing heart.

"I’m sorry," Harald whispered, his voice trembling as he finally found the courage to speak.

Loki's gaze softened, and he took a step closer, his presence filling the space between them. "For what, little one?" Loki's voice was gentle, a stark contrast to the storm of emotions swirling in his eyes. He reached up, his fingers brushing against Harald's cheek, the touch light yet electric. "For running? For fearing what you do not understand?" He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming yet intoxicating. "You have nothing to apologize for, Harald. Not yet."

Harald's breath hitched as Loki's fingers traced the line of his jaw, the caress sending shivers down his spine. He wanted to pull away, to escape the suffocating intensity of the moment, but his body seemed to lean into the touch instead as if drawn by an unseen force.

"Do you feel it?" Loki asked, his voice low and hypnotic. "The pull between us? The mark on your arm, calls to me, just as mine calls to you. We are bound, Harald, by something far greater than either of us can comprehend."

Harald swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest. He could feel it—the strange, inexplicable connection that seemed to hum with a life of its own. It was terrifying, yet exhilarating, like standing on the edge of a cliff with the wind pulling at his back.

"What do you want from me?" Harald asked, his voice barely above a whisper. The words felt like a betrayal, as though he were admitting something he shouldn't.

Loki's smile was soft, almost tender, but there was a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Oh, little one," he murmured, leaning in close. "I want everything." His breath brushed against Harald's ear, sending a shiver down his spine. "And I always get what I want."

Before Harald could respond, Loki's lips were on his, the kiss gentle yet unyielding. It was like the world around them had melted away, leaving only the two of them, suspended in a moment that felt both fleeting and eternal. Harald's mind reeled, his thoughts a jumbled mess of fear and desire, but his body seemed to know exactly what to do. He leaned into the kiss, his hands rising to rest against Loki's chest, the warmth of the prince's body grounding him in a way he couldn't explain.

As they broke apart for air, Harald's cheeks were flushed, his lips tingling from the contact. Loki's eyes gleamed with satisfaction, but there was something deeper there, something that made Harald's heart skip a beat.

"You see?" Loki said, his voice smooth and confident. "You do not have to understand it. You only have to feel it." He took Harald's hand in his, his fingers intertwining with Harald's in a gesture that was both possessive and protective.

As Loki's fingers intertwined with Harald's, the warmth of his touch sent a ripple of conflicting emotions through Harald. The room, with its flickering candles casting shadows on the walls, seemed to hold its breath as if the very air was thick with anticipation. Loki's confident stride led them toward a grand window, where the moonlight spilled in, illuminating the path ahead.

"You see, Harald," Loki began, his voice smooth and persuasive, "destiny is not something we choose. It is what chooses us." He paused, turning to face Harald, whose heart raced with a mix of fear and desire. Loki's eyes gleamed with a knowing light, reflecting the moon's glow. "And ours is a destiny intertwined, bound by more than just a mark on your arm."

Harald's hand trembled in Loki's grasp, yet he couldn't pull away. The soul mark on his arm pulsed softly, as if in agreement with Loki's words. "What do you mean?" Harald asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes searching for answers.

Loki's smile was enigmatic, a blend of mischief and sincerity. "The mark is just the beginning. It's a key, a symbol of a bond that transcends worlds." He stepped closer, his presence both overwhelming and comforting. "Imagine it, Harald—two souls, meant to walk a path together, no matter the obstacles."

As Loki spoke, the room seemed to fade, leaving only the two of them, suspended in a world of their own. Harald felt the weight of Loki's words, the pull of the unknown. He wanted to resist, to run, but his feet seemed rooted to the spot.

Loki's hand tightened around his, a firm yet gentle reminder of his resolve.

Chapter Text

Harry's slowly opened his eyes and let it drift towards the ceiling above his bed. He blinked a few times, was he still sleeping? No, this was probably his ceiling, not that of his dream, right?. Lately, it had become harder for him to distinguish between the two, and the thought of even trying made his head throb painfully.

So Harry simply let himself drift into the hazy space between dreams and reality for a moment, allowing the sensations to wash over him like waves against the shore. For once, he didn't resist or fight against it; he just let himself be carried along by the currents of his mind.

The feeling of detachment between his dreams and reality had intensified in the past few days as it felt like his reams became more real. More important.

A soft hissing noise escaped his lips as he slowly started to move his stiff body. Bloddy hell, he had been laying in the same posisition for far to long and the ache made him for once feel old. It almost felt like growing pains. Probably was, if theas last days was anything to go by. Harry started to slowly sit up, the bed sheets gathering around his bare upper body as he did.

He stared down at the white fabric, blinking, before he slowly moved his hand and stroked it over the soft cover. Feeling the strings underneath his fingertips before slowly pulling it away from his stiff body. His head pulsed with every movement as he went on to putt his feet down on the ground.

To be honest, the last dream wasn't all that bad. In fact, he might even describe it as enjoyable; there was dancing, vibrant colors, and laughter filling every moment. It was as if the sound of Loki's contagious laughter was still echoing in his mind.Tears pricked at the corners of Harry's eyes and he couldn't understand why. The memories that flooded his mind were not sad, but rather filled with joy, and love. So much love!

It was like watching a romantic novel unfold before him, one that Hermione used to leave scattered around their home. He remembered stealing glances at the pages, secretly enthralled by the story within. Of course, he would never admit this out loud, especially not to Hermione.

Harry groaned as he stretched his arms above his head as every movement hurt, his stiff body protesting loudly. It was pretty strange to wake up as calmly as he had now done.

Harry's magic had always been a source of pride, but ever since the strange dreams began, it had become a burden. His body constantly ached, as if his magic was trying to break free from within. Spells that used to come easily now sparked and sputtered with unpredictable energy. And worst of all, he began to feel a strange sensation deep within him; an indescribable feeling that seemed to pulse with great importance, and significance.

Harry couldn't quite understand it, but he knew it was tied to his magic and the strange visions that plagued his sleep. Something about his dream prince, Loki. Harry groaned again, as he tried to drive that thought out of his mind.

The last thing he needed right now was to fall in love with the imaginary dreamy man, or whatever he should call him. Either way, he would choose the thrilling dream of Loki over the other visions of the war, Voldemort, or see all of his loved ones' dead bodies staring up at him with empty eyes.

The torture he had endured during the early days of the war had left lasting damage on his nerves, especially in his arms and hands. Some nights, he would wake up to excruciating phantom pains shooting through his limbs. But today really was different; for what felt like the first time in ages, he woke up slowly and peacefully at his own pace. It was almost as if his body and brain had finally reached an agreement to give him a day off from their constant battles.

Harry went to the bathroom and continued with his morning routine. But after he'd showered, the towel hanging over his hips and water droplets still rolling over his skin, he got stuck in front of the mirror staring.

Harry's eyes roamed over his physique, noting the subtle changes that had occurred. His hair was now reaching his mid-back, and it was no longer a wild tangle but instead was straight and manageable. As he glanced at his arm, he saw that the flower mark had transformed once again. He ran his fingers along the delicate petals,and over to the peony buds that was nesting in a sea of blue.

He let his eyes travel over the rest of his body, taking in the rest of his scars that were still there. They reminded him of his youth and had began fading to more bright silver colours, which could easily be glamour over. The only thing really standing out on his skin was the text, still red as the day he had received it. The words "I must not tell lies" were still carved on the back of his hand.

Harry snorted as the irony of these words was laughable, considering who now haunted their night every other day. Yes, he was the boy who lived, and he had scars to prove it, and he was proud of who he had become because it could quickly have gone the other way.

Harry shook his head and went out and got dressed for the day. Today was a good day, Harry decided. He wouldn't worry about things he couldn't control, a hard life lesson he'd learned early on. The dreams would come when they would, and the changes too, and Harry had both Ron and Hermione in on this. Between the three of them, they should find something.

He followed an instinctual pull towards the familiar energy that surrounded him. It was yet another strange occurrence in a string of inexplicable events; while he had always possessed the ability to sense other people's presence, now he could feel their energy as well. It pulsed and ebbed within him, revealing not only their physical proximity but also their identity and intentions, like a faint but steady beacon guiding him towards them.

Harry stopped in the doorway of the extensive library. The walls were filled with books and bookshelves towering over him up to the ceiling. A large round window adorned the longest wall, with its glass divided into many different colours and moving images of fairies and flowers shimmering in the sunlight.

Two large magic plants hung with their frame, and small bright spots appeared among the aerial roots. If Harry concentrated a little, it was almost as if he could hear the soft sounds of giggling spirits. Below the window was a large solid table that was as wide as he was long and guaranteed twice as wide, and it looked, and probably was, really heavy.

Harry entered the cozy ambiance of the library, grinning as he approached the solitary woman engrossed in her reading. She was completely absorbed by the book in front of her, so much so that she didn't realize she had company.

"Anything new?" Harry inquired, causing Hermione to leap in surprise. She spun around, heart racing, and instinctively raised her wand, holding it steady in front of her as if ready to cast a spell at any moment.

"Harry!" she exclaimed, startled. "Stop doing that. How many times have I told you not to sneak up on me?" she said, frustration clear in her voice as she shot him an irritated glance and put her wand back in its place.

Harry grinned, not even a little sad that he almost gave her a heart attack. " I lost count?" he teased her.

"Exactly! Then why do you keep doing it? I promise I will spell a bell on you that will never come off. "

"No, you won't," Harry laughed as he approached her, his gait unchanged. The war had left its mark, and his bond with the Hallows only reinforced those ingrained habits. Harry seemed to exude a more subdued presence now, making it easy for people—like Ron and Hermione—to overlook his presence at times.

Hermione stuck her nose up in the air. "Try me…. I dare you."

Harry raised his hand in the universal gesture of surrender, knowing better than to laugh or argue with a woman when she was in that mood. As he glanced at the table before them, he started sifting through her notes and the images she had discovered. After his most recent dream, he had shared the details with her, and Hermione had instantly switched into research mode.

"I've looked up your mark and the flowers you mentioned from your last dream," she began as she pressed a book into his hand.

"Huh, what?" Harry squinted at the tiny text, unsure of where to begin reading or even looking. He looked up at her and asked, "Can't you just give me the gist of it?”

Hermione let out an exasperated sigh and grabbed the book back. "Europe and Asia together are commonly referred to as Eurasia..” She pined Harry with a look as he opened his mouth ”- Please, allow me to finish explaining before you interrupt with questions. The term forget-me-not originally derives from the German word 'Vergissmeinnicht,' which raughly translates to 'forget-me-not...'" she read aloud from the book she had reclaimed.

“I already know that, Herms,” Harry sighted but made a zipping motion as Hermione glared at him to shut up. Again.

"As I was saying, there's a legend from the Middle Ages about that specific flower. The story goes that a knight and his fiancée were strolling by a river when he picked a bunch of tiny blue flowers for her. Due to the weight of his armor, he suddenly fell into the water. Just before he drowned, he tossed the bouquet to his beloved, yelling, 'Do not forget me.' The flower is linked to romance and tragic fates. Women frequently wore it as a symbol of loyalty and everlasting love." Hermione set the book aside and pulled out another piece of paper.

The whole thing was interesting, for lack of other words, but Harry still had no idea why this was important to them, so he asked. "What does this have to do with the mark?"

"Everything!" Hermione exclaimed as she looked up with sparkling eyes. This was an excellent opportunity for Hermione. She had never thought that she would get the chance to study an authentic soul band. It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

"Let me break it down for you. The two different flowers likely symbolize you, and your soulmate. Only soulmates can share a soul mark. The strength and development of the tattoo represent the intensity of the soul connection. Some texts mention this. The more intricate and detailed the image, the stronger the bond between the two people must be. The two sides will be drawn closer until they unite completely. Once the mark is fully merged, you'll be linked for eternity. Isn't that romantic?!" Hermione beamed, barely suppressing a squeal.

"This ancient soul magic is thought to be exclusive to the old families, which is why there isn't much information available unless we consult Malfoy, or check the restricted section of the library. Have you had any more dreams?" she inquired.

Harry stared down at the flowers on his arm. She had lost him almost at the end of her explanation. Did he really have a soulmate somewhere? Were the dreams a clue or just something his tired brain concocted?

"Harry?"

" Hm? " Harry looked up from his mark as Hermione's voice startled him, "Ah, yes, sorry, yeah, I had another one. But I don't think it makes any sense. I want to know how the dreams change me or why my hair grows uncontrollably, not that this-." He shook his arm. “It is only another thing that will make me stand out more.”

"Well,” Hermione says, “Magic doesn't usually do anything without a good reason," Hermione pounded a finger to her chin.

"But why do I have these dreams, Mione? Every time I wake up, I feel something new. I remember something that I physically shouldn't remember.” Harry ran his fingers through his hair frustratedly.

"And it’s not just that. I can feel my body changing more and more. When all this is over, will I still be me? Or is it the one in my dreams that will take over?" Would he stop being him? Stop being Harry? And lose themselves in the memories that forced their way more often.

Hermione paused, her hands frozen in mid-action, and turned her gaze towards him. A pang of guilt washed over her as she realized she hadn't considered his concerns as much as she ought to have. Yet, his words resonated with a certain logic; why were the dreams happening? She began to mumble under her breath, a habit that only heightened his anxiety, as he struggled to keep up with the rapid-fire thoughts racing through his brilliant friend's mind.

"Speak English, please," Harry sighed. He had a mental breakdown, and she was of no help.

"What if we've been viewing it incorrectly?" she pondered aloud, not pausing for a response. "Could it be a past life experience? I believe I came across something about it in the soulbond magic section here. But surely, your transformations must come with some….guidelines, right?”

"What?" That was all Harry could manage to say. His sister had clearly gone off the deep end. He gaped at her as if she had lost her mind. It couldn't be true, especially since they had already determined that it was Loki—the mischievous and magical god—appearing in his dreams. Harry never thought pursuing a god was sensible, especially since gods were supposed to be immortal, right?

"It's not possible.”

"No, no, no, Harry, hear me out. It all adds up. You have a soul mark on your arm, which is incredibly rare, and your dream started right when you got that mark and your other changes. It's believed that soulmates track each other's souls even in the afterlife; they're essentially made for each other. It's like two halves of one soul split into two bodies, needing each other to stay balanced. They're constantly drawn to one another, and only together can they be complete. Maybe you're starting to remember, and your body and soul are attempting to reunite. It all makes so much sense now.”

"No, it doesn't," Harry said, rubbing his forehead.

"Yes, Harry it dose, listen," Hermione walked around the table, picking up a parchment she had put away earlier. "Remember that part of the prophecy. And the Lord of darkness shall mark him as his own, but he shall possess a power that the Dark Lord does not know. What if it didn't just mean the sacrifice of your mother's love? You’ve always had a greater affinity for magic than anyone I've ever heard of. You managed to kill a man that not even an adult, training Auror, could do. And the Hollows choose you to become their master, and you are called the master of death".

"Not by choice," Harry muttered, sensing a throbbing in his forehead, likely signaling the onset of another dream attack.

"I know," she said hurriedly. "But you must realize that magic has always favored you, Harry. Maybe this is how magic, and destiny are rewarding you for your actions?."

He snorted and shook his head. "When has fate ever been kind to me?" he said, reluctantly acknowledging that there was some truth in what she said, even if just a little. "And how could someone like me possibly have Loki as a soulmate? thats crazy!.”

"No, it isn't," she replied, turning towards him. "Death is about maintaining balance." Harry nodded in agreement. "And Loki isn't only the god of evil, deception, and magic; he is also known as the god of chaos.”

Harry settled onto the couch and rubbed his aching temples. "I’m almost afraid to ask, but how does chaos fit into all of this?”

"Few realize that chaos can lead to the creation of new things and situations. If Loki is the god of chaos, then he's also a god of creation. Chaos doesn't necessarily result in destruction; it can balance things out.”

"English, Hermione, please—my head is pounding, and I can't deal with complex words right now," Harry pleaded, squinting as the light intensified.

"To create chaos, balance is essential. Achieving balance in life requires death. You are the embodiment of Death, Harry, which means he represents life."

Harry leaned back on the couch, releasing a frustrated groan. "Why can't anything in my life be straightforward? I wanted a break to renovate the mansion, not to transform myself, and invite more chaos into my life."

Hermione approached him, conjuring a cool, damp cloth and placing it on Harry's feverish forehead. "I think you have to accept that, and it seems Magic has more in store for you than just the changes you're currently experiencing. Maybe there's a deeper significance? You need to think wisely for a change. I know that its hard for you"

"Love you too," Harry murmured ironically.

"Oh, I know," Hermione said without looking at him as she returned to her books. "Aren't you going to try to eat something? Maybe try the soup? "

"Tried, no luck there," he said, holding a pillow over his head that now felt like it was about to catch fire.

He still couldn't hold down more than a little dry bread and water. It was as if his whole body had decided to act against him no matter what he did so he would take the easy way out. And a day without vomiting was a good day for him. He could feel Hermione's burning and worried gaze, but he ignored it and massaged his temples again. He more or less had memories of a completely different life, and it made his head explode. It was almost as if he had the lives of two people imprinted on the same small space.

On the one hand, he was Harry Potter, the legendary boy-who-lived, the fearless hero who had vanquished the dark lord Voldemort and delivered the entire English magical community from the clutches of his malevolent tyranny. But in what seemed to be, if Hermione was right and she often was, his first life, he was Harald. And Harald was a noble young prince of the ethereal realm of Álfheimr.

Harry discovered that Harald belonged to an ancient and majestic race known as the Ljósálfar, the Light Elves, renowned for their extraordinary magical prowess and luminous grace. Whose life was the exact opposite of Harry's. He had a happy, and lovable childhood. Parents who loved him, a snotty sister who seemed to talk down to him a lot, but the freedom to choose what he wanted. And if he was, to be honest with himself, he was a little jealous of Harald's life.

"Harry, maybe we should contact St. Mungo’s?" Hermione asked nervously as she sat down next to him. "I'll do my best, but if you can't eat or the headache worsens..."

"No, I've been through worse, and I can still drink without a problem. I think I can wait a little longer.” There was no way he would go to the hospital, only for them to label him insane and unstable.

She was silent momentarily before nodding slowly, not that he could see it. "Okay, we'll wait. If you don't get better soon, you will see one of the helers. Right? "

Harry made an affirmative sound; he could live with that. He felt the headache pulse against his temples in time with his heartbeat, and he didn't open his eyes again. Hermione fixed the pillows behind her back so she could sit and keep him company while she continued reading.

The soothing sound of turning pages made Harry relax more and more; he couldn't help but, despite everything that was happening to him right now, be curious about what he would se next. It was almost like he had the first seat for some sappy romantic movie. He just hoped the dreams didn't end in tragedy and that the legend of forget-me-not was only a story.

Before he knew it, he began to sink into nothingness as the pain grew too much for him to bear, and if he cried, Hermione would not hold it against him. Why couldn't he have a single typical dull and ordinary day?

.⬝:*¨¨*:⬝.💓.⬝:*¨¨*:⬝.☯.⬝:*¨¨*:⬝.💓.⬝:*¨¨*:⬝.

Harald wandered through the corridor reserved for the royal family. He wasn't quite sure how he had ended up there. Once Loki had informed his parents about whom he had discovered, he had been sent to a different part of the castle to spend some time and 'get to know' his new mate and their family.

Harald was overwhelmed with emotions, and his ears were still ringing from his mother's nagging voice. Why hadn't he said anything? How could he act this way! She wasn't about to let him quietly leave without him knowing of her feeling. So muck regretful feeling all becouse she would not have any more time to organize the grand event of marrying off a royal family member. Now, she would have to seek assistance from her sister, which his mother found nearly disgraceful.

Oh, Norn’s help him, he was utterly doomed. Why was this even crossing his mind at such a moment? He had just met Loki, and while there was undeniably something special between them, he couldn't shake the feeling that he might be taking the other man for granted. Yet, despite his reservations, he couldn't help but feel a thrill at the thought of their impending courtship.

But right now he needed to have a change of envoriment. There of his excursion through the many corridors of the palace. He had actually heard that there was a special courtyard around here somewhere

In nature was where he truly belonged. It was where he found his peace and balance. However, nature, like his magic, could be unpredictable and untamable. After being cooped up inside for so long, he relished the serenity of the outdoors. And the palace gardens offer a sensory delight.

Ancient trees whisper with leaves that shimmer between shades of gold and emerald, their branches forming cozy alcoves ideal for private moments. The air is filled with the sweet scent of otherworldly flowers that bloom in unimaginable colors, some softly glowing in the perpetual twilight.

On the far side, a magical fountain produces crystalline music as its waters flow, and the pathways seem to shift and change like living entities. The gardens are alive with visible magic—threads of light occasionally dance between plants and structures, causing spontaneous blooms of flowers in response to powerful emotions.

He strolled leisurely along the excavated path, absorbing the essence of his surroundings as he wandered through his thoughts. Bumblebees and bees buzzed among the blossoms, accompanied by a few fairies who watched him, giggling and twirling around him.

A pleasant tingling had travelled over his where the mark had begun to develop again. Like the feelings of his counterpart, the flowers had reacted to the new development.

He looked down at his right arm, now visible to the outside world. After he had accepted the bouquet of forget-me-not by Loki, he had also accepted his courtship, so there was no way he would hide it.

So far, he had not regretted his decision.

Loki had been searching for him all along, but the magic had shielded Harald fom Hemdals gazing eyes, because at that moment he hadn't wished to be found. It was a small oversight by the young elf, but in his defense, he was merely a child at the time.

Following that night on the balcony, they spent every day together, simply conversing and learning about one another. Harald gently stroked his fingers over the mark. It now went up to his elbow and little blue forget-me-not-adorned entire forearm. Between them grew golden peony buds closest to his elbow, which had begun to beat as feelings for Loki began to germinate. He caressed his fingers over the last flower and could almost sense its texture, like the one he held in his hand.

Suddenly, a warmth blossomed in his chest, causing him to shiver. He wasn't sure why, but he couldn't help but smile as the magic continued to dance along his arm. The mark kept tingling, and he watched in awe as a forget-me-not changed to a vivid blue before his very eyes. His heart pounded intensely with the possibilities this could signify, and he struggled to hold back the tears that threatened to spill.

Why was he so annoyingly emotional?! This wasn't like him, but the feeling growing within him couldn't just be his. No creature alone could create so much love, and he felt emotionally unbalanced.

He could still hear the loud songs and laughter of fellow creatures and Aesir along the city’s streets, hiding behind the walls.

They were now on Day 70 of the festivities, and he was starting to get tired and feel more and more trapped. Hence his escape to the garden. In those few days, Loki had managed to nestle closer and closer to him. Furthermore, Harald found himself yearning for the next encounter with the astute and resourceful prince. He was eager to hear about how the prince's day had unfolded, a tapestry woven with the threads of political intrigue, vibrant festivities, and peculiar conversations.

Harald wanted to delve into the prince's experiences, to be entwined in the fabric of his life in a way he had never been before. Was he mad to desire such closeness? There was another thing that Harald could not understand. What was the matter with the Asgardians and their need to party and drink themselves helplessly? Harald stopped under the low branches of the hanging birch, leaned his head against the trunk and closed his eyes.

Sensing he was being watched, he swiftly opened his eyes and gazed contentedly at the red fox in front of him. "What am I seeing? A fox, yet not just a fox? Should I be concerned about being taken by some entity?" he asked with amusement, recognizing the familiar energy of his future mate in any form it might take.

The fox let out a soft, high-pitched yap and fixed him with piercing jade-green eyes that seemed to see right through him. "What have you done this time?" Harald asked, with a hint of mischief in his voice.

In the blink of an eye, the fox transformed into the black-haired prince who had haunted his thoughts since the moment he awoke. The change was seamless, like the flicker of a shadow in the midday sun.

Loki's lips curled into an innocent smile that belied the mischief dancing in his eyes. "What makes you think I even did something?" he replied, his voice as smooth and silky as velvet. It was clear he had been up to something, his demeanor too practiced, too charming.

"Is it because you're being obvious?" Harald questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Me, obvious? My dear, you must be confusing me with my brother."

"Forgive me, Lord Thor. I wasn't aware that you were plotting mischief when you aren't busy chasing after a lovely lady."

"Me? Running after some random damsel in distress when the real treasure is right here in front of me? Hardly believable," Loki remarked, gazing down at his companion with a playful glint in his eyes, struggling to maintain a serious expression.

Harald chuckled as a comforting warmth spread through his chest, making his heartbeat quicken. "So, who was the unfortunate representative enduring it today?"

"No, it was a joint effort there. Though, it might depend on perspective and how hard they try to stifle their laughter."

"Loki..."

Loki grinned at his little mate, pulling his slender body closer to his. "Only one of those old hens who can't stop her cackling when the others tried to talk. Can now say that she will start cackling everytime she will interrupt someone. "

Harald stared up at him with surprise written on his face as he tried to imagine one of the elders cackling like a hen. He started laughing, hid his face in the soft tunic of Loki, and shook his head as he continued to chuckle at the mental image.

"You're impossible, you know that, don't you?"

"Thank you. I'm doing my best."

Harald grinned and gazed at him once more, sensing Loki draw him nearer as warm fingers traced gentle circles on his hips. He attempted to suppress the delightful sensation that their touch ignited, swallowing thickly as his eyes wandered over Loki, who was now so near.

The thick black hair hung over his shoulders and curls at the end, and the deep jade green eyes were pulled down to his lips and then went back up to his gaze.

Harald felt a warm flush spread over his throat, ears, and cheeks, and internally scolded himself for the obvious blush. Loki had already noticed and was gazing at him with an amused grin.

"You seem a bit flushed, little one," Loki remarked, his smile making Harald's legs feel weak.

"It's... warm in the sun," he said quietly, averting his eyes.

Harald flinched slightly in surprise as Loki lifted his hand, brushing his fingers against his temples and tracing down to his cheek. The cool touch of Loki's fingers felt like a refreshing breeze against his warm skin. Harald had to muster all his self-control to resist leaning into the touch and savoring it further. The fingers glided beneath his cheek, gently guiding his head upward until their viridian green eyes locked with jade.

"We're in the shadows, no sun here love. Do you want to try some new lie?"

Harald found himself unable to respond. Loki was incredibly close, just about a decimeter away, and Harald scarcely dared to breathe. He sensed their magic brushing against each other, cautious and exploratory. Suddenly, Harald felt the urge to cling to something, so he leaned forward, grasping Loki's hand and pressing it to his cheek. A warm sensation spread beneath his skin as his magic embraced Loki's, as though it were his own, a golden aura wrapping around them like a comforting blanket. He lifted his gaze to meet the intense eyes gazing down at him. The air around them hummed with energy.

He wanted to see more, to have more, to feel more. The longing had been dormant for too long, a quiet whisper now growing into an insistent roar. Before Harald could even comprehend the impulse, he found himself leaning closer, their lips meeting with an unexpected urgency.

The kiss was unlike anything he had ever experienced. Harald pressed his lips harder against Loki’s, as if trying to convey all the unspoken yearnings and pent-up emotions with that single act. Everything around them blurred out of his mind; it was as if Loki was a gravitational force, pulling all his attention inward until there was nothing else but the two of them in that moment. This explosive connection caught him off guard but felt undeniably right—as though this newfound attraction made perfect sense amidst the chaos of feelings swirling within him.

For years, Harald's imagination had run wild, and it required all his self-control to contain the intense emotions bubbling inside him. He had been yearning for this moment for a long time. He could make this meaningful, proceed slowly, and do it right. Harald opened his lips, and Loki saw it as an invitation to explore his mouth with his warm tongue.

Harald sensed Loki's warmth despite their contact being only a kiss. It felt like the air around them was alive with energy, and he longed to wrap his arm around Loki. He was caught off guard when Loki abruptly broke away, and the mere idea of the kiss ending there made him emit a dissatisfied noise.

Loki chuckled softly, his gaze filled with amusement, making a betraying warmth spread across Harald's face. The jade-green eyes seemed to search his own, as if they were probing for something deeper, perhaps his very soul. It was as though Loki could peer right into it effortlessly. This made Harald feel exposed under the intense scrutiny, especially when Loki lifted his hand once more, brushing his cold fingers against Harald's lower lip.

"So eager, but don't worry. It's just a taste of what I have to offer," Loki hummed, creating a new wave of pleasure through Harald's body.

Harald made a soft noise, but before he could speak, Loki's lips pressed against his once more in a fervent kiss. His lips parted instantly, and he felt Loki's presence in his mouth in a way he had never imagined, unable to suppress the sound that escaped him.

The kiss deepened, and Harald found himself surrendering to the moment, his arms wrapping around Loki's neck while their bodies pressed together. He could feel every inch of Loki's body against his own, the hardness of his muscles and the coolness of his skin sending shivers down his spine.

Their tongues danced and caressed each other in a rhythm that felt like a natural extension of their connection. The electricity between them was palpable, growing stronger with each passing second. Harald couldn't believe how good it felt to have Loki’s lips on his own, moving in perfect harmony.

As they broke away for air, Harald looked into Loki's eyes once more, searching for any hesitation or doubt. But all he found was a fierce determination that matched his own.

"I've been waiting for this for too long," Loki whispered against Harald's lips before kissing him again, harder this time.

Harald could feel the intensity behind those words as Loki’s hands traveled down his back, pressing him closer. It was as if they were trying to merge into one being in that moment. And as much as Harald tried to resist it, he couldn't help but give in completely.

His mind was filled with nothing but Loki—his scent, his taste, the way he made him feel alive and electrified with every touch. Every sense seemed heightened in that moment; he could even hear the sound of their breathing mingling together in perfect harmony.

Loki finally pulled away and rested his forehead against Harald's. They both panted heavily as they tried to regain some semblance of control over themselves.

Harald abandoned any attempt to maintain anything resembling control, and his hands looked up into his silky smooth hair to push him closer.

Cold, strong hands found their way under his shirt, causing it to go up enough for Loki's hands to move over bare skin. He could feel Loki's smile on his lips and felt the arousing sensation as his fingers stroked along his side.

"What are you doing to me, my love? I lose all sense of control the moment you're near," Loki murmured as he kissed Harald's forehead.

Harald couldn't help but chuckle, "Maybe that's exactly what I'm after?"

Loki sighed, "Don't provoke me, you mischievous fae."

The words sent a shiver down Harald's spine. He had never been one to shy away from a challenge, and he could tell that Loki was, at heart, a man who loved to be challenged.

He gazed at the older man, his eyes sparkling with mischief, while Loki's eyes narrowed in response. "Or what?" Harald asked in a sweet tone, his finger tracing a path along Loki's bare arm.

Loki couldn't help but feel a surge of desire at Harald's touch. He leaned in closer, his lips millimeters away from Harald's ear. "Or I might just have to show you who the real mischief-maker is," he whispered, his voice low and seductive.

Harald's breath hitched, and he couldn't help but let out a quiet moan at Loki's words. He loved this side of Loki—the confident, dominant one who knew exactly what he wanted.

But Harald also didn't want to give up control so easily. He pulled away slightly and looked into Loki's eyes with a challenge in his own. "And how do you plan on doing that?"

Loki smirked and leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. "You'll have to wait and see," he replied cryptically.

Harald couldn't resist the opportunity to provoke him further. "Oh, I see. So it'll be a surprise then?" he teased, leaning closer once again.

Loki chuckled and shook his head. "All in good time, my love." And with that, he captured Harald's lips in another passionate kiss.

Their bodies pressed together as their tongues danced and hands roamed freely over each other's skin. Harald could feel himself becoming more and more lost in the moment, forgetting all sense of time or place.

Unable to keep the low moan of the kiss, he made a surprised sound when Loki suddenly put his hands to his thighs, just above the crease of his knees, and lifted him to the hard surface of the tree.

With the smooth movement, Harald wrapped his legs around Loki's waist to stay up, feeling the kiss become more profound and the spirit leave him for a second. He had ended up higher up in this position, giving Loki direct access to his neck as their lips had been separated.

A gasp left him, and he bent his head to the side to give him better access to the light skin under the collar. Loki pressed harder against him, an unmistakable bulge in both pants that clearly showed they were enjoying themselves. Harald locked his arms around Loki's neck and pressed himself against him so their hardness rubbed against each other.

He let out an unexpected yet delighted noise when Loki's teeth grazed the tender area beneath his chin. He sensed Loki's chest rising and falling rapidly as he nestled his head into Harald's neck. The warmth of his breath sent tingling sensations through his sensitive nerves. As he ran his fingers through Loki's shoulder-length hair, a contented hum followed, and he felt Loki's embrace tighten around him.

They stood there for a while, the magic vibrating around them like a warm blanket, and Harald could even see the flowers at their feet that hadn't been there before, and he let out a low laugh.

If this happened with just one kiss, what would their magic come with as they became more intimate? The mere thought made his heart jump, and a new warmth spread through his veins.

In an instant, the air was shattered by the sound of Loki’s name to be called out by the one god whose voice alone could command an entire army to snap to attention. It was the piercing, authoritative voice of his mother that reverberated through the garden, shaking them to their core.

"Someone's in trouble." Harald murmured, tilting his head slightly to glance up at him.

"Quiet, we're invisible," Loki murmured back, embracing him more firmly. Harald struggled to suppress the laughter bubbling up as he wrapped his arms more snugly around his partner's neck.

"Oh, Norns, she's going to kill us. "

"Oh no, my dear, she won't. She adores you, so you escape with just a light smack. But as for me?" Loki remarked, planting a kiss on the pulsing vein of Harald's neck, causing him to shiver with delight and smile with a playful glint. "She'll likely hang me out to dry and use my balls as Yule decorations in the throne room, so keep quiet," he whispered, pulling the smaller man closer. Harald stifled a laugh, covering his mouth to prevent any noise that might attract the already irate queen.

As they waited for the queen to pass, Harald couldn't help but feel a mixture of dread and exhilaration. Dread at the thought of facing her wrath, but exhilaration from the stolen moment he had just shared with Loki.

He buried his face into Loki's shoulder, taking in his comforting scent and feeling his warmth against him. He could hear Loki's steady heartbeat, a calming rhythm that helped ease his nerves.

After what seemed like an eternity, the footsteps faded away and they were left alone again. Harald lifted his head from Loki's shoulder and pulled back slightly to look into his eyes. There was a mischievous glint in them that made Harald smile.

"Yule decorations in the throne room, huh?" he teased, unable to resist poking fun at the still serious-looking god.

Loki chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Oh yes, she has quite the sense of humor when it comes to punishing me."

Harald couldn't believe it. It was difficult to picture someone as formidable as Frigga showing mercy, especially towards her playful son. Yet, she undeniably adored him.

"Well then," Harald said with determination in his voice, "let's make this moment count."

With that, he pulled Loki down for another kiss. This one was slower and deeper than before as if they were trying to take in every sensation and emotion that came with it.

Chapter Text

On days like today, when everything seems to fall apart, Harry questions why he continues to endure all the nonsense. He was wondering who he have wronged in his past life for fate and destiny to despise him this much.

Today, he had the pleasure of shattering not one, but two large mirrors into a cascade of glistening fragments. Wasn't there an old belief about bad luck following the breaking of mirrors? Or maybe it was about black cats? Regardless, he likely had 14 more years of misfortune ahead of him.

Additionally, as he had simply strolled down the hall, he had managed to blow up , three antique vases AND set fire to one of the portraits that had reprimanded him for being too old for accidental magic. -As if he chose to do it on purpose- he caused the paintings to explode, forcing the unfortunate figures to take refuge in other frames while swearing vehemently.

When Harry had attempted to complete the final repairs in one of the ancient rooms, he tried to be cautious... though emphasis was definitely on the "tried." He nearly blew out all the walls as they transformed into every color of the rainbow.

So, now without a doubt, Harry could officially declare that his magic was broken. Such an incident of accidental magic was uncommon for a 21-year-old wizard who had completed his education. Not to mention, he had also fought in a significant war during most of his school years. However, he had entered the wizarding world at age 11, faced challenge after challenge every year, and found that the more questions he asked, the fewer answers he received.

The sense of betrayal he experienced was profound, knowing that Dumbledore, who was not only his headmaster but also the person responsible for placing him with the Dursleys, had been his magical guardian all along.

Harry was taken aback when the goblins from Gringotts bank reached out to him, revealing his responsibilities to the wizarding world. They were enraged upon realizing he was completely unaware of these obligations, and Harry sincerely hoped to avoid such an encounter in the future.

The goblins swiftly educated him on his role as a lord of ancient and noble houses, a duty that Dumbledore had neglected to teach him, along with some other essential lessons.

Harry had always taken pride in his quick ability to pick up magic, much like a duck instinctively taking to water. He enjoyed learning through hands-on instruction and demonstrations. When allowed to practice on his own, he could grasp nearly any magic he aimed to master. However, he was more than happy to leave the bookwork and research to Hermione. For him, delving into books had been nothing short of a nightmare. Yet, through this process, he had gained significant knowledge and had come to see the wizarding world for what it truly was—imperfect and flawed.

But that was a problem for a later date; now, his magic was entirely out of control, and not only that, Harry had a new horrible problem—a much bigger, and more important one than some misfortunes in the past.

Somewhere between when the dreams began, he developed a crush on the man from his dreams. If that wasn't a shock to him, he didn't know what was. He couldn't stop thinking about the black-haired Asgarian Prince. The passionate kissing sessions that filled his dreams each night weren't helping either, as it felt like he was the one receiving all the attention.

Harry pulled his hand through his hair and let his now long strands fall freely along his back, and it suddenly felt like something was crawling on his scalp and down his spine. Another vase exploded beside him, and he raised his hands to protect himself from the broken parts. But when nothing landed on him, he slowly looked up and blinked in surprise at the shield he had conjured before him.

The shield before him had a greenish hue blended with a tint of gold; it almost looked like a giant soap bubble. Harry stared at the mess and then back to his hands as he lifted them and waved them tower the broken parts, welding it to do his bidding, and slowly, the vase started to repair itself. Witout a wand!

Alright, so wandless magic was acceptable, even impressive. He was definitely getting stronger. But there was a nagging feeling; if only his magic hadn't been the root of the whole mess in the first place. That thought kept a laugh from escaping his lips, leaving him torn between pride and frustration.

Hermione had glanced at him before instructing him to meditate. He had successfully achieved a power boost before, and he could do it again. When the hallows had selected him, his magic had surged similarly, though on a smaller scale. It was Hermione who had suggested the idea back then too, and it had worked, so why wouldn't it this time?

Perhaps he should venture into the woods and let his feet pound the earth in his animagus form; it had been ages since he had felt the exhilaration of running wild and free. The forest beckoned with its whispered secrets, and the thought of encountering the magical creatures that called it home filled him with anticipation.

It had been too long since he had seen Buckbeak and his majestic flock. He still remembered how their feathers use to gleaming in the dappled sunlight. Harry yearned to stretch his muscles, to feel the wind rush past him, and to run without a care in the world, casting aside all worries.

But not today. Today, he needed to focus on mastering his magic, ensuring he did not inadvertently bring chaos to their home. Harry walked to the newly named meditation room in the mansion and looked around the room. It looked exactly like it had since they were here last time.

The ground was covered with a soft layer of mattresses, and there were four different pillows on the floor in a circle, facing each other with a bowl in its middle with crystal clear water. After all this month, it was still as clean and fresh as the day they put it there.

The bowl was a grounder. It centered the mind and body, and as it was activated, there would be a fog that would cover the whole circle with a fresh scent of rain and forest. But for today, he needed the real thing. Harry walked over to the window and opened it, letting the fresh air in before he stepped back and took his place on the floor.

He knew exactly how to plunge himself into a meditative state right away. But this time, when he tapped into his magic, he zeroed in on the new sensation. A raw, untamed energy was surging from his core in relentless waves.

It was an exhilarating blend of the unknown and the known. Harry’s core pulsated with molten gold, and electric green, swirling with a wild, unstoppable force. It was larger, more powerful than his usual magical core, and he could see tendrils snaking out of it, like vibrant vines, wrapping around his core in a kaleidoscope of hues.

Harry could feel it more intensely than ever before; the energy was a living, breathing part of him. It beckoned him, demanded his attention, and then he was yanked into another memory, a fierce tug that pulled him down into the now-familiar fog of his mind.

.⬝:*¨¨*:⬝.💓.⬝:*¨¨*:⬝.☯.⬝:*¨¨*:⬝.💓.⬝:*¨¨*:⬝.

Loki and Harald had spent several days practicing magic together, and the two had grown quite close during that time. They had also been discussing and analyzing Harald's magic, trying to understand it better.

"I still don't quite get why we're doing this," Harald remarked, crossing his arms over his chest. He wasn't pouting; he really didn't do that.

Loki grinned at the moody man adoringly as he was pouting, “Because you asked for it?”

“I did not!”

"So you say that I heard your request wrong, little one?"

"Yeah, probably, becouse you are old."

Loki snorted, “I'm only 747 and still damn handsome, ”

Harald gasped in fake shock; his eyes were twinkling with amusement, " 747? By Valhall, help me! should I be worried that an ancient one is courting me?."

Loki laughed, “Do not let my father hear you say that, and you are what? Two hundred and fifty years younger than me? It's not like you are the one to talk, love.”

Harald snorted and shook his head; he looked at the crystal ball in his lap that he had been focusing on for the better part of the hour. "When I asked you if you could show me your magic, this was not what I had in mind, you know,"

"What's a better way to see magic than experiencing it for yourself?" Loki asked from the seat in front of him, clearly still amused over the whole situation. Blasted god of magic. “As magic-user to another magic-user.”

Harry shot him a playful, annoyed look, though he wasn't truly upset; he enjoyed these teasing exchanges. "You just want to watch me fail so I have to depend on your wisdom, oh wise and ancient one," he teased. "Maybe you want me to worship the ground you walk on, Prince Loki?" Harald said, bowing with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Loki laughed, and Harald could honestly say that it was among the best he had ever heard, and he smiled at him. "Let's stop talking now; it's time to try again. This time, concentrate and direct the magic to where you want it to converge, inside the ball" Loki instructed, gazing warmly at his small companion. He couldn't deny that he relished the opportunity to teach him something, and he had also earned some much-needed alone time with the elven prince.

Harald nodded and concentrated on the clear crystal ball in his hands. He closed his eyes to better channel his magic, gradually trying to draw energy towards it. It was challenging, but since both he and his companion had agreed to take things slowly and practice their magic, Harald wanted to make the most of the opportunity.

With the festivities concluded, Harald chose to remain in Asgard because that's where Loki were. As he preferred not to be apart from him if it wasn't necessary.Only to get to know him, of course. His parents diden’t minded his decision, but his sister's glare could have killed him several times over if that were possible. He was unsure why she seemed so upset; she should be pleased to have a break from him. Harald dismissed it as jealousy because he had found his soulmate before her.

Concentrating on the moment, Harald let his magic flow down from his center, and through his arms and into the clear crystal that began slowly to change color, a light blue hue started to shimmer in its center. So far, so good, but he could not get the magic to collect in the crystal, but it was scattered around it instead and leaked more than was collected.

He gave up.

"I can’t."

"Yes you can, it will works, but you have no patience."

"You said this was easy to do," Harald glared at him.

"One of the earliest skills I picked up as a youngster," he hummed. "However, your magic differs from mine, so perhaps that's why you can't use this technique?" Loki pondered, letting his hand hover above Harald's as he attempted to sense the magic.

Harald looked at him a little thoughtfully now."How different?"

"Your magic is untamed, and in harmony with nature. My mother's magic and mine are disciplined and concentrated, guided by deliberate thought and intent, with the magic responding to our desires."

"Do you mean just like yourself?" Harald asked with a chuckle.

"Alright, smart one, let's recap. What do we understand about the Ljósálfar magic?" Loki asked with a smirk, ignoring his snarkly question.

Harald cocked his head thoughtfully. "It's linked to Yggdrasil?" he answered, unsure if it was the right answer.

"Yes, and..." Loki gestured for Harald to continue.

"I can feel, and harness this energy," Harald stated with more confidence. "I have a natural connection with it, which enables me to perceive and channel the energy of nature."

Loki nodded in agreement. "And what else can you do?"

"I usually focus on Vital magic—healing—or manipulating light and shadow, known as Light Weaving," Harald added.

Loki hummed thoughtfully. "It's undoubtedly a powerful but risky practice," he remarked as he pondered. "Drawing magic directly from the source..."

"Yes, but that's usually not an issue unless I dive too deep. And even if I did, it wouldn't be by accident; it would be intentional," Harald replied, resting his head on his knee.

"But that's probably why I was once marked for death candidate," he added with a grimace.

Loki snorted at that. "Not too fond of it, I take it?"

"No," Harald shook his head in response.

"Well, your situation may not be ideal, but look at the bright side: Heimdall would never know if you used your healing powers on yourself should you ever get injured again." Loki said with a grin.

Harald chuckled at that thought but quickly sobered up again. "But my magic becomes even stronger when I'm in distress or danger. It's hard to control," he admitted.

Loki's expression turned serious. He did want to know how his little mate knew that, but this was not that time for that conversation.

“so, what if we look at the problem from another angel” Loki said as he picked up the crystal ball “think of this like a vessel you have to circulate your magic into”

Harald furrowed his brow, unsure of what Loki was suggesting. "What do you mean?" he asked, eyeing the crystal ball warily.

"Think of it as a training exercise," Loki explained, tossing the crystal ball to Harald. "Focus your magic into the ball, and see if you can control it. Like when you are healing someone"

Harald hesitantly caught the crystal ball and held it in his hands yet agagin. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to center himself. He visualized his magic flowing through him, connecting him to Yggdrasil and nature. Slowly, he directed that energy towards the crystal ball, imagining it as a container.

To both Harald's and Loki's surprise, a faint glow appeared around the crystal ball as Harald's magic began to circulate around it befor leaking in. Loki grinned in approval and gestured for Harald to continue.

Harald concentrated even harder, channeling more of his magic into the crystal ball. Soon enough, the glow intensified until it was almost blinding. But then suddenly, with a loud crackling noise, the glow disappeared entirely.

"What happened?" Harald exclaimed in frustration.

"You pushed too hard," Loki said simply. "Your magic is powerful but uncontrolled at times. You need to learn how to harness and direct it."

Harald nodded in understanding with a sigh, it was taught work, but fun. " Alright I'll try again."

They continued practicing with the crystal ball until Harald could successfully circulate his magic around it without losing control or causing any damage.

"I think that's enough for now," Loki announced finally as they both sat exhausted on the ground. "You've made great progress."

Harald let out a relieved breath as he smiled at Loki gratefully. "You are a great teatcher," he said sincerely.

"It's nothing," Loki dismissed with a casual wave of his hand. "Now, show me what you can do, and I'll give it a shot your way," Loki said with enthusiasm, eager to learn new skills. For now, he would attempt to imitate his mates method of practicing the craft.

"Alright, this is something I know is simple, even for you," Harald said, glancing at the ball. He smiled with satisfaction as it began to hover above his knee. Energy enveloped the ball, glowing with a golden light as he lifted it up in the air. The ball ascended steadily until it was level with his head, at which point he let the magic go. With a swift motion, he caught it before it could drop to the ground and handed it to Loki with a teasing expression. Just a basic levitation trick.

"Your turn."

Loki grinned as he accepted the ball from Harald and concentrated on making it float using sheer energy. It was harder than it seemed; the ball wobbled in his grip, and soon he could feel sweat trickling down his temple. He attempted to channel the natural energy like he imagined Harald did. drawing it from the source. He managed to make the ball move and even hover about an inch, but then he lost control, and it landed back in his lap.

"Many men your age struggle to get it up; it's perfectly normal," Harald said, attempting to maintain a straight face while teasing him.

"Absolutely not, little one, don't even think about it," Loki warned, raising a finger to his teasing companions. "There is nothing wrong with my ability to get anything up."

"You sure had me convinced," Harald sang out with a wide grin, responding to Loki's glare, which only made the smaller male chuckle.

"That's it, you cheeky little minx, no more magic training for you," Loki teased, and then he suddenly pounced on Harald with a playful growl. This only made Harald erupt in laughter as he countered by tickling Loki with his long fingers, hitting every sensitive spot.

"Are you giving up?"

Harald gasped after air, "Never!"

His response only made Loki attack him vengefully and use magic to make Harald almost shrieks in laughter. "Perhaps now?"

"O-okay !! ... Okay," He could not take it anymore, "I give, I give."

Just as abruptly as the tickling began, it ended. Harald panted and laughed while Loki remained above him.

"I won," Loki purred sweetly, and Harald found himself unable to argue as he surrendered beneath his partner. Loki had won this round, but the battle was far from finished!

Loki cautiously extended a finger, gently tracing his chin. Harald leaned into the touch, kissing Loki's fingertips. As their eyes met, Harald moved closer to kiss Loki.

Their lips were tender, and Harald relished the distinctive taste of his partner, humming with satisfaction. Calming sounds escaped his throat, and he shivered as their tongues met, deepening the kiss.

Harald sensed the fingers gliding along his throat, up his jawline, and around his ears. Loki's lips mirrored the path of his hands, moving over Harald's exposed neck and along the side of his face, before finally burying his nose in the long black hair and inhaling deeply.

A shiver coursed through Harald as Loki adjusted his position, slipping a leg between Harald's and gently nudging his groin. Harald stifled a groan, pushing back with more force. His fingers tangled in Loki's hair, tightening their grip. Loki nibbled lightly on Harald's neck before drawing his lips to suck just above the throbbing vein, leaving Harald feeling like he was melting into the floor.

"Loki…" he tried to protest, but the protest was weak. He wanted this as much as his mate. But someone could walk in on them.

Loki swiftly seized Harald's hands, pinning them above his head. "Don't worry, no one will interrupt us," he assured, positioning himself above Harald so that his entire form loomed over him. Loki's jade-green eyes had deepened in shade, his pupils wide and dark with desire, as he gazed intently at his blushing partner beneath him.

The captivating flush on his cheeks and the fresh purple mark he had just imprinted on Harald's neck contrasted with the rest of the vivid setting. His black hair fanned out like a halo around his head as Loki leaned in, applying more pressure with his hands. He kept Harald pinned beneath him, exactly where he desired. Swiftly, he nudged his knee slightly against the now sensitive area in his companion's trousers.

Harald stifled a groan, intensely aware of the way the slender body beneath him arched upward. Loki shifted his grip, capturing Harald's hands with one hand while sliding the other beneath the cream-colored tunic. His long fingers traced over the flawless skin now revealed to him. He located a nipple and gave it a gentle pinch, causing the body underneath to gasp and arch again.

"Be still," Loki felt how the magic formed around his hand that held Haralds in place above his head, and he could feel the heat that spread along his mark when the magic caressed it lovingly.

Loki let his fingers follow the flowering tattoo before he let feathery kisses rain over it instead, and Haralds gave a low moan at the sensation. He then let his fingers caress down over the narrow but nicely muscled arms. Harald was now breathing hard as the feeling set every part of him on fire. And he would be lying if he did not say that the light touch and nibbles shoot straight down into his stomach.

Loki smiled as he began to drip feathery kisses over his now bare clavicles, sent and tasted on his skin, and it was not long before Harald was a panting pile underneath him. The heat that spread through him was lovely and alluring, and his pants began to feel painfully tight.

Loki loosened the final knot in his tunic, allowing the smooth fabric to slip away and reveal more of Haralds pale skin. His fingers gently traced over his perfect chest, brushing against the now sensitive pink nipples. Loki trailed kisses down to his navel and over his flat stomach. Harald let out a soft moan in response, attempting to alleviate the tension in his groin by shifting his lower body against Loki's knee

Loki pressed his knee firmly against the growing bulge in Harald's trousers, causing him to gasp and arch even further. He reveled in the way his mate squirmed beneath him, desperately seeking release from the building pressure in his body.

"Someone is impatient," Loki chuckled as he looked down at him with a sneaky look over his face. Harald's dark eyes stared intensely at him. "Maybe I should leave you here" he hummed. Loki put his hand over his stomach.

Harald breathing was now faster than before, and the look he got was hot and full of lust. “You wouldn't…. dare,” Harald panted and tried to move as the touch now tickled him more than anything else, sending arousing shivers through him as the sensation washed over him.

“Oh? is it a challenge, little one? ” Loki asked and smiled amused as he contented himself with having full control over his little mate's pleasure. He found it most arousing when Harald was whimpered in pleasure, begging him to release him from the torture. It was not the first time they had played this game; he was in control, and Harald had almost already lost it.

Or at least, that's what Loki believed, but once more, his little one astonished him with an unexpected divine strength he didn't realize he possessed. In an instant, their positions were reversed, leaving Loki blinking up in surprise.

With minimal effort, Harald pushed his lower body and legs against Loki, flipping their positions. The spell Loki used to pin Harald's hands to the ground had shattered, leaving only a trace of green glitter as evidence it ever existed. Pride welled up inside him as Loki's dark eyes locked onto the dark angel now towering above him.

Harald looked down at him, moistening his lips before breaking into a satisfied smile as Loki emitted a soft moan. A cool yet enjoyable sensation radiated from Loki's hands, causing him to make a startled sound.

"Indeed, it's a challenge," Harald asserted as he completed his spell, releasing Loki's hands, which now remained in place due to one of his own sealing spells.

"You know, my love, there are families that have a special kind of magic,” Harald hummed as he looked down, really satisfied by his work. It was his best so far “ Our family happens to be very, very good at sealing spells"

“Oh? You don’t say” Loki hummed as he tilted his head back so that he could look at the greenish chains that held his hands down to the ground.

Loki looked back at his mate, and felt a shiver shoot through his system at the predator-like smile Harald had on his lips, "so try to breake this, if you can,” Harald purred as he sat back on his rear that was precisely over Loki’s crotch. Making it a little bit hard for Loki to concentrate, but the challenge did not go unanswered.

Loki began to feel his way over the newly made magic sealing as Harald looked down at him, smiling like the little vixen he was. The sealing was surprisingly complex, and well done. Loki could see how this would be a problem as it would not go away quickly. And to think that Harald had done this in a second was amazing. Silently Loki wondered how much he could bound if he had time to do it more firmly. Could his whole family do it? Of course, they could; he had said that it was a family thing.

Harald grinned when he saw how Loki began to focus on his task, and he could hear his thoughts as his mind was running away with facts and possibilities.

This was an moment that Harald was determined not to let slip through his fingers. How often could someone claim they had outwitted the god of mischief and pinned his hands to the ground, leaving him vulnerable to any attack? He intended to ensure it wouldn't be easy for the trickster to break free from the bindings.

Harald gently traced his fingers down Loki's chest, tugging at the string that fastened his tunic. Jade's green eyes locked onto Harald with a piercing gaze. Harald returned the look with an innocent smile, his fingers grazing the smooth skin. "Is something troubling you, my love? Was it too challenging for you, maybe?" he teased, letting his hands slip beneath Loki's garments.

Loki was completely under his control, as long as he couldn't decipher the binding. Harald was acutely aware of the more promesing swelling beneath him, pressing against his rear. which emboldened him and perhaps made him feel more mischievous than he should, given the power he now wielded.

"Is this to your liking?" Harald asked as he moved his hips, eliciting a moan from the man beneath him. He gently dragged his nails down Loki's chest, causing Loki to arch his upper body slightly.

"What was that, my dear?" Harald murmured, gazing into Loki's eyes, which had darkened almost completely due to his dilated pupils. "If I recall correctly, you prefer being the one in charge?" he purred tenderly.

Loki let out a low growl as Harald continued to tease and taunt him with his words and touch. He was torn between wanting to break free from the bindings and take control of the situation and allowing himself to give in to the pleasure that Harald was offering.

Harald moved slowly down Loki’s legs and positioned himself between them. His hands ran over Loki's thighs, sending shivers through his body. Loki's gaze locked onto him with fierce intensity, like a predator zeroing in on its prey, eyes gleaming with an almost feral anticipation.

Harald leaned down and captured Loki's lips in a searing kiss, their tongues battling for dominance. The heat between them was palpable as their bodies pressed against each other.

Loki couldn't deny the desire coursing through him as Harald continued to explore his body with skilled hands and lips. He found himself moaning and gasping as Harald trailed kisses down his neck and chest.

Harald took advantage of the opportunity while he had it. The god of mischief was known for being unpredictable and elusive, but here he was at Harald's mercy – at least for now.

"What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?" Harald taunted, noticing Loki groan while his fingers brushed against the now prominent bulge in his trousers.

"Just wait until I get free..."

Before Loki could even process the chaotic whirlwind of sensations, electric lips grazed his stomach, sending shivers that raced downward with a relentless tease. Harald's smirk widened as the fluttering storm inside him intensified, fueled by the intoxicating power of having complete dominance. His hand traced the taut outline trapped within the fabric, and his grin turned wicked when Loki's breath hitched and fractured, betraying the raw, agonizing desire that left him desperately wanting.

"Did you say something?" Harald asked sweetly, slowly kissing the skin on Loki's hips. Harald could now see how he was trying to focus on getting the magic off his hands more fiercely than before.

"I love the way you look at me, have I told you that?" Hadrian hummed and kissed the pale skin just an inch above the hard bulge. "Love to hear your voice when you whisper sweet nothings to me. Maybe I'll need to find another way to hear that charming silver tongue of yours again?"

Loki's chest heaves as he contemplates what is about to happen, and his eyes are dark with lust. “You are playing with fire, little one.”

"Maybe so, but I can handle the heat," Harald replied, toying with the edge of his pants and grinning like a cat that got the cream.

Harald carefully began undoing Loki's trousers, and it wasn't long before Loki's throbbing member was released from its confines. It wasn't overly large but still impressive in its length. This was the first time Harald had taken the initiative in this way, as Loki had always been the one to bring pleasure to him. But today was different; today, the trickster god was entirely under Harald's control.

The exposure of his rigid member to the chilly air made it difficult for Loki to focus on the magic and how to dismantle it. Harald then gently wrapped his hand around Loki's shaft and started to stroke it slowly, causing Loki to hiss with pleasure and instinctively thrust his hips upwards into his lover's smaller hand.

Loki released a guttural moan as the little devil's touch turned excruciatingly teasing. Harald's grin widened with wicked delight as he abruptly changed tactics, leaning forward with fervor over Loki's hips. His tongue traced a deliberate, agonizingly slow path down the throbbing length of Loki's cock shaft, igniting a fire of intense sensation.

He hadn't known that it was possible, but his cock hardened even more, and a gasp left his bounded prince lips. Harald wrapped his lips around the head of Loki's cock, and the god groaned as he forgot about the seal for a second. The warm sensation made him pull on his arms as the overwhelming feeling crashed inside of him.

Harald continued to suck and lick at Loki's shaft with an expertise that surprised even himself. He had always been the one receiving pleasure from Loki, but now he reveled in being able to give it back in full force.

Meanwhile, Loki struggled to focus on anything other than Harald's mouth on him. Every flick of his tongue sent ripples of pleasure throughout his body, making him arch and writhe against the restraints.

But just as he was reaching the peak of his ecstasy, Harald suddenly pulled away. "What are you doing?" Loki gasped out, desperate for more.

Harald chuckled darkly as he planted kisses along Loki’s inner thighs. "Don't worry," he said with a mischievous glint in his eye. "I have plenty more planned for you."

"Don't you dare stop now," Loki growled breathily, making the smaller male chuckle.

"Such a bossy one," Harald murmured as he rose to meet Loki's face, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss.

Loki never imagined he'd be so thrilled to see his seemingly innocent mate take on such a commanding role. Moreover, his magic embraced the dominance, resonating steadily beneath him.

Harald grinned wickedly, his lips curling with satisfaction as his hand moved with deliberate slowness along his shaft, savoring every reaction from Loki's sweet, shuddering gasps. With a renewed fervor, he returned to his fervent, tender attentions to his mate's cock, his touch an electric caress that sent shockwaves through them both. He released Loki's lips, only to descend upon him with a voracious hunger, his mouth a relentless force drawing out deeper, more desperate moans from the bound man beneath him.

Lokis' hips jerks in tandem to his sucking before he cries out as his seed is spilled into Haralds waiting mouth, taking it all. Loki had barely come down from his heights before Harald started to lick off the cum that dripped out of the corner of his mouth, looking down at his mate with a happy expression.

Loki then broke the spell binding his hand and drew Harald into an eager kiss. Harald let out a soft chuckle when Loki seized his long hair in a firm grip, feeling a delightful tingle of pain travel down his spine. Harald pulled back slightly, ensuring he could catch his breath, both he and Loki panting heavily.

Harald laughed softly. “that good, huh?” The combination of magic and passion enveloped them, and he felt the tingling sensation along their mark, conveying their emotions to each other.

Harald took a deep breath, letting his forehead rest against the older man's, and closed his eyes with a sense of peace. Loki's fingers gently ran through his hair as they lay there, feeling at ease and unwinding together. Harald shifted slightly, becoming aware of his pressing issues, which prompted a soft chuckle from the man beneath him.

"Is something troubling you now, little prince?"

"Nothing that can't be fixed later," he said with a smile, anticipating his own repayment would be as good as he gave. However, there was something he'd been wanting to ask for a while. "Can I see your mark?" he inquired.

Loki hummed, "of course; it's yours as much as mine," he said and brought Harald's marked arm up to his lips and kissed the soul mark, which seemed to sparkle with golden dust. Perhaps it was only the magic that still clung to them.

Harald grinned and allowed Loki to sit up. As Loki started to remove his shirt, Harald sat to the side, struggling to suppress his reaction to the enticing view. Loki shot him a deep, intense gaze filled with countless promises before turning to rest his back against him.

From the curve of his hip bone up to his broad shoulder, a cascade of beautiful blooming yellow peonies unfurled, nestled amidst a sea of delicate forget-me-nots. The design was expansive, stretching across half of his back like an intricate tapestry of nature's finest blooms. When their bond was finally completed, the vibrant artwork would extend to fully envelop both of their right arms, a testament to their shared journey. Harald had spent countless moments pondering the final size of this masterpiece, and now, seeing it unfold before him, he had his answer.

Haralds let his eyes travel over the small flowers and the bigger one right on his shoulder blades. He allowed one of his hands to caress the flowers along Loki's back gently, and he smiled when he saw how goosebumps shot up along the bare skin.

Without thinking, he let his lips rest against the bare skin between Loki's shoulder blades. His arms slipped around Loki's upper body as he hugged him close. He already knew about it, but this only gave him confirmation, and he felt a bubbling feeling grow inside of him. Loki was his, only his until the end of time, until the end of their worlds, even until Ragnarök. Their bond was strong, powerful even, and would not break easily.

"Thank you," he whispered, leaning his forehead against Loki's warm back and breathing in his unique scent of cedar and fire.

"For what?" Loki inquired in a deep voice. "Just ask, and I'll make sure you have it," he assured while wrapping Harald's arms around himself and gently kissing his knuckles.

Harald shook his head. "Because you belong to me," he replied with certainty, aware that he sounded like a hopeless romantic (which he indeed was). However, instead of teasing or brushing off the sentiment, Loki responded with a gentle laugh.

"I am yours," Loki confirmed softly before turning around in Harald's embrace to face him fully.

"You are mine, as much as I’m yours" Harald whispered back before closing the remaining distance between them for a tender kiss.

Loki responded eagerly, deepening the kiss with a soft moan as their tongues danced together in perfect harmony. Everything else seemed to fade away as they lost themselves in each other; nothing but love and desire connecting them.

After some time had passed (though neither could tell how long), they finally pulled away for air. They stayed close though; foreheads still touching as they caught their breath.

"I love you," Loki spoke with utmost sincerity. "I am grateful to both fate and magic for bringing you to me, my dear," he added, shifting in his embrace and smiling mischievously down at him.

Harald's heart fluttered at the sincerity in Loki's eyes as he declared his love for him. He couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with emotion; never before had someone expressed such love for him. It felt like a dream, a beautiful dream that he never wanted to wake up from.

"I love you too," Harald replied, feeling his cheeks flush with warmth at the thought of spending eternity with such an incredible being like Loki.

Loki chuckled softly at his response and leaned down to capture his lips in another kiss. This one was slow and sweet, filled with all the unspoken words and emotions that they couldn't put into words. Harald melted into the kiss, reveling in the feeling of Loki's lips against his own.

After a few moments, they pulled away once again, their foreheads still pressed together as they caught their breaths. Harald opened his eyes to see Loki looking at him adoringly, causing his heart to swell even more if that was possible.

"Allow me to demonstrate just how much I treasure this divine gift bestowed upon me," Loki said mischievously, shifting in Harald's embrace. "And I think there's a small matter of yours that still requires attention."

Chapter Text

The Potter manor was one of Harry's family many estates. But it was his favorite over the Black’s. the manor was built in 1066 with royal permission, the manor boasted grand rooms like a potion lab, bed chambers, an elegant dining room, and a library. The foyer, unchanged since the 1800s, was adorned with travel-acquired statues, a large grandfather clock, enchanted suits of armor, and a town painting. Its magnificent white marble staircase connected the manor's rooms. Harry was amazed to find old parchments suggesting the estate was once co-owned by Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin, though their accuracy was uncertain. He really did enjoyed restoring the property to its former glory.

But today, Harry felt the need to leave the house and the restoration for an easy escape from everything that had happened resenly. He walked purposefully through the open courtyard towards the forest. Ron and Hermione had decided to go on a well-deserved date. Only the gods knew how much they needed some time for themselves, without constantly worrying about him. In Harry's opinion, they were worrying too much; everything had worked out so far, so why wouldn't this situation resolve itself too? After all, it wasn't like he couldn't possibly die anyway.

A lot had yet again changed, but in many respects, it stayed the same. After meditating and revisiting a particular memory, Harry's magic felt strangely altered. This was partly because he finally accepted that his dreams were truly memories of a past life. How could they not be? With everything Hermione had theorized and all that was happening to him—alongside the transformations he was experiencing—what else could it be?

However, he couldn't quite identify what was most troubling him at the moment. On one hand, it was as if he was viewing the world with fresh eyes; everything appeared so vivid, colorful, and alive. This wasn't due to not wearing his glasses; something within him had shifted.

As he absorbed his new sight, he noticed a subtle anxiety starting to creap up within his chest. After all, he was alive now, wasn't he? He hadn't recalled anything about Loki, Asgard, or the fae until these dreams started. This suggested that something had occurred to erase his memories of the life he once knew, though he had no clue what that event might have been. The real question was, what exactly had happened?

It was too many questions for Harry's overwhelmed mind to process at the moment. He decided he needed to escape everything and run freely in the woods. It had taken them several years of intensive training to discover their animagus forms, and a few additional months of research to become familiar with them, but now all three were officially registered animagi.

Harry smiled as he took a deep breath, and his lungs filled with the scent of the damp forest. It was still some drizzle in the air, and heavy gray clouds hung over his head, but he did not think it would rain too much for a while. Harry closed his eyes and felt his magic react immediately, and the transformation began to pull over him. He exhaled slowly to embrace the familiar feeling of changing body parts. Before, it had hurt, but now, it was like a second form. He could switch between the two as quickly as he could change clothes.

Harry's body started to contract, with dark fur sprouting from his once fair skin, now turning a deeper shade. His jaws grew stronger and longer, his teeth reshaping into sharp tools capable of ripping through muscle and breaking bones. Every scent became more distinct, and he could hear the faint buzz of a dragonfly from several meters away. Gradually, Harry opened his eyes to this new perspective and stretched his stiff body with a loud creak; a contented hum resonated through him at the delightful sensation.

Following the events of the past few days, he was relieved that his animagus form had remained unchanged. It reassured him that he was still himself in some way—once Harald, but now he was Harry Potter, the son of James and Lily Potter. Without delay, Harry launched into a sprint, his powerful muscles flexing and extending as his claws ripped up grass and earth. The enormous midnight-black wolf moved effortlessly through the familiar forest.

When Harry initially saw his animegus form, he felt a brief moment of disappointment. He had expected, since his Patronus had been a stag before, that his Animagus form would be the same, just as his father's had been.

It was Ron's remark that really made him pause to think: he wasn't his father. He was Harry Potter, not James Potter. So why should his animal resemble his father's when he was his own individual? An animagus reflected one's spirit animal, embodying who you truly are.

Harry was in his animagus form easily twice as tall as a regular wolf and more muscular. Hermione joked that he was a Ulv, an ancient werewolf who could deliberately switch between his shapes. Something he was not entirely against, as the form suited him.

After running for a good while, Harry began to slow down and trot contentedly between the trees. The last few weeks had been tough on both his body and mind, but now the changes had become more calm and stable. He still had headaches, but not as bad as before and he has stopped changing his appearance.

Harry allowed himself to be enveloped by the forest's magic, sensing it pulsating through the air and ground. He inhaled deeply, savoring the forest's aroma, and paused momentarily. With his head raised, he let the light rain sprinkle over him, simply relishing the peace the forest offered.

He still could not believe that he owned all this because Potter was one of the oldest families; they also had one of Scotland's largest magical properties. The land that stretched around Potter Manor was something out of the ordinary magical forests. Several hectares of forest, meadows, mountains, and lakes merged into the pristine medieval forest.

After he moved in, Harry tried as often as he could to walk among the magical animals that lived there; he could easily survive outside for several days without returning to the mansion. He made sure to do it often as it gave him inner peace. However, this evening seemed different; why could he not have a single evening in peace?. A dull, irritated morning vibrated in his massive chest when he felt a sudden cold and heavy feeling pull in over the forest. A sense that has not been there a few minutes ago.

A chilling sensation seeped into his bones, leaving him cold to the core. Although there was no odor in the air, he could sense vibrations deep within himself. Whatever it was, it disrupted the magic of the forest.

Harry turned towards the source of the strongest sensation. His instincts had never led him wrong before. Suddenly, his keen nose caught the scent of decaying flesh. This was a new and unfamiliar smell, unlike any he had encountered from the usual forest visitors. His green eyes narrowed, and he broke into a run in that direction.

An urgent voice inside urged him to hurry. He needed to reach the source quickly. The stench of decay thickened, and he imagined a dark, purple mist spreading across the ground. The strange energy and sensation intensified, pushing him to move even faster. Despite his muscles protesting the speed, he knew he had to reach it before it was too late.

Harry practically flew over the fallen trunk that was in his way, and suddenly he heard a sound that made his insides become icy cold. A high-pitched childish scream cuts through the dark forest. He knew very well what magical creatures were moving in the woods; he had even seen herds of winged horses that contained Abraxas, Granian, and Thestraler. Hearing whining sounds from them was not uncommon, but such a terrifying scream was not usual, not with that undertone, almost like a human last death cry. And he had heard enough of such screams to recognize it.

After the battle of Hogwarts, after all the death that surrounded them, he had noticed a magical creature fighting alongside them. And he knew of what that sacrifice meant to said beings. Harry had no idea what he was thinking after all, but he had sought out his old division professor to present his offer in the days after the battle.

The forbidden forest Centaur herd had not allowed him to return after the battle as they considered him unclean and degrading. It left him homeless and without a job; Firenze had then wandered without a herd for a while before encountering his mate, a beautiful red pinto male named Orion. The centaur was more white than red but what had caught Harry's interest was that Orion had wings on his back!

Harry had never seen a winged centaur before; Orion was soft-spoken and careful and did not attract attention. So when Harry met them, he, of course, opened his home for both of them to live in peace without having to worry.

It had not taken much persuasion on Harry's part to get them here, and he was glad he could open his home to one of his old teachers. But in recent years, more outcast Centaurs had found a home in the Firenze's herd; if Harry does not remember wrong, they were now seven adult centaurs in the heard. Besides, this spring, the heard had been blessed with foals, something that was highly celebrated among them. The celebratin had been so loud that the golden trio had been able to listen to them from the balcony of the main hous.

Firenze was fortunate to have twins, while two other couples welcomed a foal each. As a result, four healthy and joyful centaur foals now roamed his land, part of a growing colony that surpassed the one at Hogwarts in size and was neither intimidating nor arrogant. These were new times, and these Centaurs valued both the messages of the stars and the knowledge gained from their surroundings.

Harry shot forward even faster than before, magic caressed his tense muscles, and the smell of decay grew stronger. He could now see a humanoid dark-skinned figure in front of him; the dark shadows that the forest cast over them made the figures more horrible.

The closer he got, the more of the distorted creature became apparent as it dragged itself forward, the long arms trailing behind it. Blood dripped from its long front teeth in a breathtaking sound leaving its black mouth. He immediately recognized it. A living dead.

He was baffled as to how a Ghoul had managed to infiltrate his property. Had the wards failed? He hadn’t considered that possibility before. It was clear he needed to address the issue and renew them; the thought hadn't even crossed his mind. No one had likely tended to them since his parents lived here two decades ago.

With a fierce growl, Harry launched himself at the creature, his powerful form crashing into it and driving it away from its target. The small palomino centaur had been knocked to the ground and struggled to rise, fear evident in the foal's expression. Harry positioned himself protectively in front of the young centaur, hoping she wouldn't find him too intimidating.

Harry lowered his massive head, and his lips were parted, and bared his sharp teeth, he stared intensely at the intruder who was slowly recovering. Harry had encountered both werewolves and vampires in the forset, but never a ghoul before; how did you kill it? And what did this one do here? Why was it alone? They used to wander in flocks, mush like dementors.

The creature suddenly threw itself at him with a snarl, and Harry pushed away all thoughts and instead focused on neutralizing the dangerous creature in front of him. He could not use his magic in this body, but he did not need it either. He had both sharp teeth and strong claws that could tear creatures to pieces. It did not take him many minutes before the creature's body collapsed into a pile on the ground. A dark liquid flowed out of the body and eroded the land around the fallen body, slowly breaking down into a more dust-like substance.

Harry exhaled sharply to rid his nose of the foul smell, then lifted his head and listened intently to the forest, sniffing for any other threats. The sensation within him hummed with contentment upon detecting no further danger. Though the creature's vile presence still tainted the natural energy, it was no longer a threat.

Harry slowly turned and gazed at the foal, now at a safe distance from him, trembling in shock over the recent events. The foal's large blue eyes were wide with fear, and Harry noticed blood trickling down her wounded arm and shoulder, although she didn't seem too badly hurt otherwise. He let out a low whine and crouched down slightly, attempting to appear smaller and less intimidating to avoid frightening her further.

He could see the small wings protruding from the foal's back fluttering a little, and together with the blue eyes, he could clearly see who her sire was. So this was one of Firenze and Orion's twins; the question was, what did she do alone so far in from the herd?

Harry moved cautiously towards the foal, keeping himself as low as possible. As he approached, the foal retreated, her legs flailing in panic, worried that he might pose a threat. Harry paused for a moment, then gently lay down. Unfortunately, she had never encountered him before, or else he could have already assisted her with her injuries. However, the herd was quite reclusive, and Harry had been reluctant to intrude.

He remained on the ground and kept his head low. Waiting. Centaurs were very protective of their young and never let strangers near them until they were at least six months old. The young mare stared at him with big sapphire blue eyes, and she did not seem to know how she would react to the strange wolf that had saved her.

“d-don't e-eat ... eat me? please, Mr. w-wolf, ”she stammered low with a voice filled with both pain and fear.

Harry shook his head slowly at her words, his response seemed to calm her down a bit, but she was still tense and ready to try to escape in case she needed to. He slowly raised his head and tilted his head slightly. His emerald green eyes were fixed on her while he waited for her to calm down. Should he change? No, then she would probably be too scared and hurt herself more. She needed to calm down before, and Harry kept quiet while she took in the whole situation.

The filly blinked slowly and began to relax more and more; he could see how her gaze shifted in from the ghoul and back to him.

Harry felt like doing a joyful jig as he noticed her gaze gradually shifting while she pondered. She started to comprehend that he wasn't just any ordinary wolf, unlike the ones her parents had always cautioned her against. Despite her initial hesitation, his understanding demeanor and those captivating green eyes held the young mare's attention. She recalled tales of the courageous man who had welcomed them into his home, remembering his strikingly intense forest green eyes.

"a-are you sure?"

Harry let out a soft, happy noise and nodded. His tail swayed gently on the ground, collecting bits of branches and dirt, though he paid it no mind for the time being. His focus was on soothing the mare, and he was thrilled when she spoke once more, having finally understood.

“Ere… are you Mr. Potter? ” the big blue eyes were filled with tears when she asked this, and her whole body was now shaking violently. Could it be their protector who saved her? She had heard her sire and carrier talk about the young wizard who owned the forest they lived in and his great deeds in the war that happened several years ago. All the foals in the herd loved to hear stories between them and learned to read the stars.

Harry nodded and took it as a sign that he could approach her. This time, she allowed him to get closer, staying where she was. He gently sniffed her hoof and gazed up at her as she looked down at him. He noticed her eyes beginning to lose focus, indicating she was slipping into shock. Harry lifted his head and listened to the forest sounds around them. Not hearing any other centaurs, he deduced that the herd was quite a distance away, and he calculated that the mansion was reasonably far as well.

Walking with an injured foal after dark wasn't wise due to the numerous predators around. Should he transform back? Doing so would mean losing his heightened senses. Harry softly nudged the foal's arm, and she lifted it at his prompting, slowly stretching her hand toward him. When she tentatively ran her trembling fingers through his fur, he emitted a low, vibrating sound and pressed his head against her hand. He attempted to envelop her with his energy, conveying calmness, security, and safety.

Her eyes shone with tears that now began to fall down her pale cheeks. Harry then slowly withdrew from her touch and then shifted back to his human form in front of her. His long black hair fell wildly around his shoulders, and it moved in the weak wind that his magic exudes, and he squatted in front of her with a calm smile.

"Hello there, little one," Harry said softly when the foal jerked but thankfully did not escape from him.

"It's okay," he continued, holding his hand to hers, and she stared down at it as if she thought he was going to eat her. "You know who I am, and I suspect I know who you are."

The mare blinked her wide doe-eyes and asked, "do you?" Harry nodded in response. "You must be either Thea, or Nova."

The foal stared up at him, and he could see the wonder spread when he said her name. “N-Nova”

Harry nodded, "Nice to finally meet you, Nova; I'm a good friend of your Sire," he then said, holding out his hand to her. “Could I look over your wounds? must they hurt you very much? ”

Nova suddenly made a low whining sound, as if he suddenly reminded her that she was hurting herself and realized that it hurt a lot. Tears now ran down her cheeks in a steady stream, and her breathing increased.

"Yes-s," She said, "I want to Sire aa-and carrier," she snorted, and her body now began to shake when the shock started to grip her, and Harry decided to take the risk and get closer. When she was not protesting, he put her arm in a light embrace and let his magic embrace her more and more.

“Hush, i know little one, I will take you to them as soon as you can walk properly, alright? I'm not going to leave you here.”

She made a new whining noise and hid her face in his sweater, and her arms clung to him while he held the little foal and rocked her softly back and forth and pulled her fingers through the light hair. When her tears finally began to subside, he looked down at the exhausted Nova and wiped a tear away from her cheek.

"May I look over your wound, Nova?" he asked her softly because even though she was only a foal, she was a centaur; they were proud creatures by birth. And even though an adult centaur would probably deny him, he hoped this little one would not. But he did not have to worry much because after a bit of thought, she nodded, head still buried in his shirt. Harry smiled weakly and let his hand hover over the wound on her shoulder, and he could feel his magic gather under his palm. He could not heal it entirely, but he needed to stop the bleeding.

"Can you tell us what happened?"

"W-we were playing by the pond," she exclaimed in a high-pitched voice as an uneasy feeling crept over her shoulder. "Thea chased me, Malar, and Rapkin. It was so much fun! We were so fast they couldn't catch us! Everyone was running everywhere," she continued, a big smile spreading across her young face. Though tears lingered, she was engrossed in her story.

"Then Rapkin suddenly vanished, and I couldn't find him again. That's when I noticed the forest I was in seemed strange," she mumbled a bit softer than before. "I got scared, tried to find my way back, and ran faster because I know Carrier hates it when I'm too far away, but then I came across... encountered that... t-that..."

"It's okay. I think I can put together what happened afterward."

Harry sensed her fingers entangled in his long hair, her head leaning on his shoulder, as if she was drawing in his presence and energy. To be frank, it was slightly fustrating; he was clueless about handling kids, let alone mystical beings like the centaurs. Harry glanced down at the foal, which started trembling once more, and used his free hand to gently smooth its platinum blonde hair.

"You were incredibly brave, Nova," Harry reassured her gently. He had never been this near to centaurs before, but this was just a young foal who had gone through something dreadful, so it was understandable she needed comfort. Harry glanced at the wound, which had healed well but remained an irritating red mark. It would eventually leave a scar.

"I'm staying with you tonight, so we'll go to your flock tomorrow, okay?" asked her low, but he got no answer. Harry looked down at her and saw that she was already asleep from exhaustion on him. He quickly checked her hooves and wings for more injuries but found none, thank goodness.

He took out his wand and waved it in an intricate pattern before breaking up some protective barriers and notes-me-not charms around them. When he was happy with the result, he changed shape to the giant wolf again to keep her warm and that he could hear much better in this shape. Luckily, neither Ron nor Hermione would notice that he was not coming home; they were probably fully occupied by each other.

Harry settled down behind the foal, positioning the little creature snugly between his legs and stomach. He sensed Nova shifting slightly in her slumber, nuzzling her head into his warm fur. As he listened to the surrounding forest and inhaled the scents carried by the air, he anticipated a long night ahead. It was likely already past midnight when he finally surrendered to the drowsiness that enveloped him, trusting his magic to alert him should any danger approach. With that reassurance, he allowed sleep to overtake him, and a peculiar new memory began to surface.

.⬝:*¨¨*:⬝.💓.⬝:*¨¨*:⬝.☯.⬝:*¨¨*:⬝.💓.⬝:*¨¨*:⬝.

Loki was excruciatingly bored, which was never a good sign. He already longed for his other half. They both knew that eventually, they'd have to part ways for an extended period. They had managed to find a pleasant balance between exploring different realms and living their lives.

Loki's thoughts wandered to his little fae partner; they had been together and committed to each other for several years now. They had shared many adventures and faced numerous obstacles along the way. Loki had a knack for creating chaos wherever he went, whether intentionally or not, and he typically enjoyed it.

As Harald's 700th birthday neared, he was set to fully realize his magical powers, in line with Fae tradition. Fae magical growth occurred in three stages, with the final stage marking their transition into adulthood within their family. This transition brought several changes: most notably, they would finally marry. Additionally, his young one was expected to receive a surge of power from this transformation.

If the rumors were accurate, Harald's magical powers would likely be doubled, or even tripled, considering the immense magical core he already possessed. Magic was an integral part of Harald's identity; it was as if he lived and breathed it. Thus, keeping him apart served as a precautionary measure. It was essential for Harald to be in Alfheilm instead of Asgard. In the event of an unforeseen incident or if his transformation became more turbulent, their expertise would be crucial. Unfortunately, Loki didn't possess that level of knowledge yet.

But Loki hated that he was not allowed to be there with him when it happened. It was his fiancé! He felt powerless when he could not be beside his little prince and protect him from all that he considered a danger or an act of irritation—mainly the big excuse for a brother, who loved dueling with his little mate. But that was a story for another time.

This was something that the older royals had agreed on, something that Odin stuck to, and everyone knew that Odin's words were law. It was useful for young couples to grow into their roles and strengthen their bonds with the distance. However, Loki was ready to ignore everything his father said and sneak over anyway, he had plans to do so tonight, and no one could stop him.

It was purely rubbish that they needed to be separated if you asked Loki, but then again, no one did. Loki grinned when his already created plan would happen already this day. He needed to meet his fiancé and did not intend to let his dear father's strange views stop him.

At the moment, Loki tried to play his role as an obedient son and concentrate on the pitiful excuse of a meeting that their father forced both Thor and him to attend. Thor, with his annoying careless personality, sat and slept - with open eyes! - which made him just look stupider than he was.

Sometimes Loki wondered if they were even related or if his parents decided to adopt Thor out of pure mercy. Loki had always been the one who took on the more political part of their upbringing; he liked it, the cunning power play that was handled by well-chosen words. It is who he was; his brother liked the more aggressive form of his responsibilities; training and fighting were more in his fortune.

In these meetings, Loki managed to use his so-called silver tongue to its utmost ability and often without being noticed or accused of doing so. Sometimes when he felt extra bored, he could easily distort the words and create a bit of chaos in an already chaotic situation. It would not exactly make any significant difference. However, what irritated him was that Thor was the crown prince and could escape everything that Loki would be punished for if he was found out. Like sleeping in an 'important' meeting.

His blonde mountain of a brother, who always had difficulty keeping his interest in the subject, had significant problems concentrating if whatever subject didn't interest him. And he was their next king? Loki worried about their kingdom. He rubbed his forehead lightly as he heard another of the ancient goats, arguing over some gems and how the stars warned of desperate times.

If he had to go through this torture, Thor would have to go through with him.

Loki cast an irritated look at the slumbering figure, as if to say there were no excuses for such vulnerability. Thor was practically inviting an attack. Really, he would do him a favor by pointing it out for him. And as discreetly as Loki could, he extended his middle finger, releasing a jolt of energy that struck Thor's leg, causing him to grunt in surprise.

Thor leapt up from his seat, frantically searching for the source of his discomfort, and accidentally toppled his goblet of wine that had been harmlessly resting before him. The crimson liquid spilled onto the floor, drenching half of Thor's pants in red. Loki struggled to maintain a straight face as the entire room fell silent, eyes fixed on the scene involving his beloved brother.

The older council stared at the Crown Prince, and Odin raised a bushy eyebrow over the rude interruption."Do you want to say anything, my son?" Odin's stern voice took on a different undertone than he had before.

"Emh… I ..." Thor opened his mouth but closed it again and looked utterly lost, like a puppy who did not know where his favorite toy had gone. He had no idea what had been said or happened, and he sought his brother's gaze and gave him an annoyed expression when he realized what exactly had happened. He knew very well who was responsible for his current situation.

Loki gazed at him with wide, innocent green eyes. Thor squinted at him, allowing the room to be enveloped in a sober, tense, and somewhat humiliating silence.

Loki cleared his head slightly, his eyes fixed on him instead, “What my dear brother is probably trying to get across is that maybe it's time to take a break, All-father, we have been sitting in this meeting since sunrise, and the sun is already high on the sky, ”

Odin nodded. "It's a great suggestion, Thor, let's take back this discussion mid-solstice," he said and hit his pole in the ground and got up, and the others quickly followed his initiative.

Loki rolled his eyes and shook his head at their father's words. Of course, he would believe that was what Thor wanted, and sometimes he wondered why he even tried. The sound of scraping chairs and footsteps led them out of the room followed the All-fathers command. Once they were out of earshot, Loki could no longer hold back the laughter that shook his shoulders, and he threw his head back as the sound pearled out of him.

The blonde muscle mountain looked at him, annoyed when Loki broke down in front of him. "Loki…." Thor said in a deadpanned voice, "that was a waste of good wine, and I had a nice dream."

"Really, now, brother?" Loki cocked an elegant black eyebrow, feigning wonder all over his feature. "Then you definitely have your priorities right" he continued to chuckle at his misfortune.

"It was just a bit of fun; relax, brother."

Thor gave him another annoyed look, "Little help, as compensation?"

Loki waved his hand, "Do it yourself; you have time."

"Loki-i" now suddenly whined a very dissatisfied Thor, "It's a long way to my room!"

Loki just chuckled in response; he had to blame himself for his own clumsiness. Although he could quickly have helped him with his magic, it was a punishment for leaving him alone with the ancients. He was not the one who had slept during a meeting anyway.

Loki began to leave the meeting room with Thor trailing behind in a gloomy mood. As he walked, he abruptly slowed his pace. An unusual rush swept over him, and without warning, a sharp pain struck his back. It felt as if a dagger had sliced from his shoulder blades down to his hip.

Loki couldn't suppress the scream that escaped him as his legs gave way, causing him to collapse to his knees. Thor's worried voice echoed nearby, but Loki couldn't comprehend the words. His skin suddenly felt like it was on fire, as if it had been stripped away, tearing painfully at his side—specifically on the right, over his soul mark.

Loki clenched his jaw tightly to stifle the scream threatening to escape, clutching his tunic to reveal his shoulder where the soul mark began to transform. His heart seemed to stop as he looked at the mark, horrified by what he saw. His eyes immediately noticed the change, but his mind struggled to comprehend its significance.

The once-vibrant carpet of forget-me-nots and peonies had inexplicably changed to the wrong color, it was dull and grayish. But that could not be possible; it just did not happen; the only time a soul's mark was withering was when its equivalent was near death or, worse, already dead.

The fear and agony clawed viciously at Loki, and this time he couldn't suppress the agonizing scream that erupted from his throat as a brutal surge of magic struck him dead center on his back. It seared through him, as if someone was viciously carving the flowers from his flesh. Loki's scream intensified, raw and unrestrained, as the sensation ripped through his body and soul, the magic suddenly being violently absorbed into the mark, leaving it utterly desiccated.

"Loki!" Thor's voice broke through his thoughts, filled with concern and panic. He rushed towards Loki, kneeling down beside him and placing a hand on his trembling shoulder.

Loki was oblivious to the moment when darkness engulfed him, as every fiber of his being was consumed by the relentless, excruciating pain that shredded his entire existence and soul. He plummeted deeper into the endless void, a strange hollowness rising in his soul as he lost his fight to stay awake.

Chapter Text

Harry had been correct the previous night, and at times like this, he wished he wasn't. The ghoul he had eliminated was not the only one. He awoke with his magic alerting him to the looming threat. Soon enough, he spotted four more ghouls, meandering around the barrier. They seemed to be searching for something, as if they could sense something about them but couldn't pinpoint its location.

Viridian green eyes followed them like a pray, ready to attack, and protect if they managed to find their position. The small foal next to his body was thankfully still asleep, but he could feel her head slowly moving against his flank. It would not be long now before she would wake up.

If it had only been two creatures, he could certainly have managed to take them out without any problems, but against four, there was no chance. Especially not if he both needed to fight them and, at the same time, protect the foal. So the best he could do was to wait for them to move on, and try not to make any sudden noises or movements.

Harry sensed the filly stirring and, as she reached her arms toward his side, he rested his head over her slender torso, cautioning her gently. Nova let out a soft, surprised noise, lifting her head to peer over his back, followed by a quiet squeak. That tiny sound was enough to catch the attention of one of the nearby ghouls, causing it to pause and glance their way.

Harry pressed himself tightly against the filly, never taking his eyes off the threat ahead. The closest ghoul turned their way, sniffing the air with its decaying nose, and took a step nearer. In the first light of dawn, Harry could see its hideously half-decomposed face more clearly. The forest remained slightly moist from the chilly spring night, with a thin mist hovering above the ground.

The usual forest sounds were absent, replaced by the eerie noises of the ghouls; there was no birdsong, no rustling of small creatures in the underbrush, not even a whisper of wind. Everything was motionless. Harry felt the filly's frame trembling as the ghoul drew nearer. It swayed towards them, its scent growing stronger, and Harry had to suppress the urge to snort as the stench clung unpleasantly in his nostrils.

A thick, oily black substance oozed down the ghoul's chin, its stench intensifying into an overpowering assault on the senses. Were ghouls venomous? Harry had absolutely no idea, and he did not want to test that theory. Time dragged on, feeling like an endless, torturous stretch, before the ghoul finally halted and began to retreat with agonizing slowness. They lingered in the clearing afterward, Harry's protective embrace still tightly enveloping the trembling foal. Her face was buried deep in his fur, her breaths ragged and uneven. With painstaking caution, Harry began to loosen his grip, and the moment his head lifted, the protective barrier around them shattered like fragile glass.

Nova gazed up at him from the ground, her doe-like eyes fixed on him as he shook himself and stretched his stiff body. Harry glanced down at her when she remained still and gently nudged her with his large head. She needed to get up so that they could move on. Although it was still early, he wanted to reunite her with her herd as soon as possible, given the numerous dangerous creatures lurking in the forest.

Gradually, Nova rose to her feet, her legs shaking as she kept a firm grip on his fur. Harry let out a soft, rumbling noise and gently nuzzled her, causing her to giggle, which was exactly his intention. A child shouldn't wear such a frightened expression.

They began their journey back to the centaur's usual dwelling, with Nova occasionally hopping nervously beside him. She stayed as close as possible without getting in his way or being stepped on. Her wings fluttered nervously, lightly brushing against his side at every unfamiliar noise that emerged around them. Once the dark creatures departed, life returned.

Harry hadn't realized the depth of the forest they had entered until they had been walking for at least an hour. Fortunately, they hadn't come across any more dangerous creatures. As Harry proceeded in his form, his mind drifted to the most recent memory or dream, which was distinct from previous ones. This time, it wasn't from Harald's viewpoint but from Loki's.

It felt a little strange, he had just gotten used to Harald's memories, and now this happened. Was it because something linked them together, more than the mark? And what had happened to the mark in the memory? Could Harald be injured or, worse, possibly dead? Is that why he was here now?

Harry could still remember how the burning phantom feeling spread across his right side. It annoyed him that his dream had been interrupted when it had; he wanted to know what happened. Which in itself was amusing, as he only a few weeks ago wished they would just disappear, and let him be. But now, it hurt him to see the pure desperation reflected on Loki's face when he understood something had happened. It cut into his very soul, and that disturbed him.

Harry suddenly felt his magic pulsate, and he halted. The filly by his side stood obediently still, and Harry could feel the earth below them start to tremble. Hearing the noise of galloping hooves, he turned his head towards it, his ears focusing intently in that direction. He moved forward slightly, ensuring the foal remained close behind him as a protective measure, in case it was another herd approaching.

Soon he spotted the familiar figures of the centaur herd they had been searching for, and he felt a small sense of relief. Nova let out a loud wail, and charged towards them as Harry allowed her to proceed.

“ Sire! Carrier! ”

The flock's response was swift. Harry shifted out of his animagus form and stood up, observing the Reunion. He overheard Nova explaining the events, as the adults busily attended to her with hugs, gentle touches, laughter, and some choice words from a few of the elders.

A centaur patted Nova on the head, and Harry could really see the relief on his face as he did that. The palomino centaur then turned and met Harry's gaze fully.

"Mr. Potter, we meet again," he said and did something that Harry had never seen one of the proud centaurs do; he bowed to him!.

It made him almost too embarrassed to respond because these creatures never bowed to anyone! Pride was literary in their blood. But Harry quickly turned his head in return as a sign of respect, "Firenze, may the stars shine brightly upon this meeting, my friend."

When he invited the centaur herd to live on his land years ago, he requested they teach him some of their ways. Centaurs, proud and intelligent, were recognized as sentient beings—not quite human, but far from mindless creatures. Unlike hags or vampires, they refused to be grouped with such beings.

"And to you, my friend," the half-human, half-horse answered. "we are you forever grateful."

" Please, get up. You do not have to bow to me. I just did what anyone would have done" Harry told hom, his hand out like he tried to force the centaur up from his position.

"You still protected Nova, and tended to her injuries. It's something we'll always remember," remarked the palomino, placing a hand on his beaming daughter's head as she trotted over to him. Harry noticed the rest of the flock standing taller, their expressions now resolute yet noticeably lighter.

“Our meeting was predetermined in the stars, Mr. Potter. But as a thank you for the effort you made for my heard, but specifically me, I ask you to accept my gift "Harry opened his mouth to protest. But the centaur raised his hand" you will be able to ask three questions of your choice , and I will answer them as far as I can ”Frienze said and looked down on the young man who saved the life of his youngest. He also could not help but see the changes the young Lord had undergone since their last meeting.

Harry wanted to protest again but stifled the protest and stiffly nodded. He had to choose his fights, and this one, he would not win without insult their generosity. He had helpt his daughter. " I accept your gift, and thanking you for your wisdom."

Firenze nodded pleased and turned around, "Come on, let's return. You both must be hungry."

Harry gazed at the blonde centaur, who was beginning to move away. He had the opportunity to ask three questions without expecting anything in return. The centaur in question was one naturally endowed with the ability to interpret the stars, and he had the insights into past events and future occurrences that Harry needed.

But,Harry had no idea where to start. How could he only choose three questions, when he had a thousand? As they walked back to the colony main area, Harry continued to talk with Nova or one of the adult centaurs. Some of them were very insecure around him; others were more outspoken and welcoming.

Gradually, the forest started to open up, leading into a birch grove with grass carpeting the ground. Sunlight filtered through the broad leaves sprouting from the branches. As time passed, bigger trees intertwined, creating structures resembling houses. These appeared like open houses and other slightly more twisting formations, with the ground decorated in soft moss or rugs.

In the center of the small village, a bigger fire pit was gradually being filled with old logs and twigs. Surrounding the pit were several large containers holding dried herbs ready to be crushed and processed. At the far end of the table, various bows and spears were neatly arranged. He noticed some centaurs approaching, and the last three foals joyfully bounded over to greet their rediscovered member.

Harry was placed on a stump, and a silver mare named Aera gave him a plate with different kinds of fruit, berries, and mushrooms on it. He was once again thanked for his efforts, and a blush spread across his cheeks and neck for all the attention he gained. Firenze came walking up next to him with a smile and held out a goblet of water, whish Harry accepted and took a sip from it,"Thank you."

The centaur bent his head slightly and let the young man eat and drink in peace but remained at his side. Harry could hear Nova telling her whole story to her sister and friends, and he held back the smile of how she magnified everything. He followed them with her eyes as she enthusiastically began to gesture and jump around and make growling noises.

Harry stifled a laugh and popped some nuts into his mouth as his stomach growled with hunger. It turned out he was hungrier than he had initially thought. Although he wasn't particularly focused on food due to his upbringing, he had improved a bit. Still, he often needed reminders to eat, or else he'd lose track of both time and meals. It was somewhat ironic because lately, he hadn't been able to eat much anyway, due to his dreams and the changes he was experiencing. Harry paused and gazed thoughtfully at the mushroom. Could his former professor have insights into what was happening to him? That was the most pressing issue at the moment.

“Ask your question, Mr. Potter ”Harry looked up into the sapphire blue eyes, he did not even understand why he was surprised anymore.

"Firenze, what's happening to me? Why am I going through all these changes?" Should he be concerned? Scared? Should he seek help at the hospital for what had happened? It was as if the journalists were eagerly anticipating this moment—the Boy Who Lived undergoing bizarre transformations, perhaps even more dangerous than before. Was he the next Dark Lord? The most unsettling part was that Harry could envision the entire UK wizarding community turning against him. If their cherished newspaper claimed it, then it must be true….

Firenze nodded as if he had expekted the question, " Have you ever heard about creature inheritage, Mr. Potter?"

Harry nodded hesitantly. Hadn't Fleur said something about her being part veela? " Yeah, I think so, like veela's and vampire, right?"

The centaur nodded, "Yes, among other things. It's not just about mixing a bit of creature blood into the Wizards' lineage. This dates back several generations, to a time when magical beings were more common and constantly seeking ways to enhance their abilities," said Frienze, crossing his arms over his well-defined chest.

"This led to the emergence of several superior bloodlines and a new form of magic. However, nothing was revealed until the magic-user attained their full magical maturity at around 18 years old. At that point, the creature magic would activate, resulting in a significant increase in their magical abilities and often changes in their appearance, depending on the creature they were connected to," he explained, glancing at the foals that had settled down and begun eating.

"I do not understand what it has to do with me or my changes," Harry replied honestly, he put away the plate; the appetite gone. “The potters do not have any creature blood in their line”

Firenze looked down on him again and hummed low, “Some creature heritage takes time to develop because it requires a more stable core and density. To answer your question, Mr. Potter. You have a creature inherited, not the Potters ”

Harry frowned, “What? but I’m a Potter”

Frience hummed as he considered how to clarify it for the human. "Yes, you are human by blood. However, by soul, you are something different. Likely something akin to the fae, or elves as they appear in your myths, given your very humanoid transformations. Yet, the magic within you is denser and wilder at its core."

Harry looked a little confused, "I thought fae were extinct eons ago? before Merlins time?"

" Yes, and no."

Harry just wanted to hit his head on a trunk in irritation. When he received an answer to one question, 20 new ones showed up, and the cryptic centaur definitely did not help. Was it so difficult to give him straight answers?

Firenze appeared amused by the young man's impatience. "It seems you have a greater purpose in life related to those memories," he said, causing Harry to look curiously at the centaur. "Yes, I am aware of them, it is written in the stars. There's a reason you haven't been able to access them until now, which leads us to the second question."

This time Harry did not have to hesitate. He knew exactly what he wanted to know, " Why me ?"

"That's certainly a significant question, but a more important one is, why shouldn't it be you?" The palomino centaur adjusted its stance, "For centuries, the stars have foretold the coming of the destined one, but the person you were, the one you recall in your memories, was not fit to assume the title and the responsibilities it carried."

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Frienze held up a hand and silenced whatever protests he could think of, "what does number three tell you, Mr. Potter?"

" Huh ?" the question made Harry stumble over his thoughts again; the number three? There was nothing special about the number three, was there?

Firenze glanced at his daughter as she approached, carrying her own gift for her rescuer. Nova beamed and presented a feather along with something resembling golden horsehair. "Harry, this is for you," she said with a smile, extending them towards him, "may I braid them into your hair?"

Harry looked a little surprised and Firenze gave off a low laugh "it's a lucky amulet, horsehair from her tail, and a hippogriff's first mowing feather as a lucky charm and an excellent protection." explained the elder, and Harry nodded and smiled a little.

"It would be an honor Nova," the filly smiled happily, and when Harry was already in a perfect position for her to tinker with his long hair without problems. The hair was now below his shoulder blades, and she started comb it with gentle fingers, which became more and more courageous when she started grooming his hair.

"Okay, as I mentioned, the number 3 represents everything," Firenze explained. "It signifies growth and magic, resulting from the combination of two other elements. This number is brimming with energy and potential. It marks the beginning, middle, and end. We track time through our past, present, and future. Even the sun has three phases: dawn, noon, and dusk. Similarly, we experience life through birth, living, and... death."

A cold feeling shot through Harry's body and made the hair on his arms and neck rise , and it was not thanks to the little fingers that braided the horsehair and feather into his hair.

"Voldemort was obsessed with magic number 7. But death, it loves the number 3, it's a sacred number for them."

Harry looked down at his hands resting in his lap, his mind racing with thoughts. What did he know about the number three? It was Hermione who had delved into numerology and runes, not him. Taking a deep breath, Harry closed his eyes. If this was related to death, what should he consider about these paths? The most straightforward connection was the three objects that made up the Deathly Hallows, a starting point. Then there were the three Peverell brothers. The symbol of the Invisibility Cloak was a triangle with three corners, encompassing both the Elder Wand and the Resurrection Stone. As Harry's thoughts continued to unfold, his heart began to race. In prophecy, he was born to those who had defied their enemy three times.

Harry's hands trembled uncontrollably, though he couldn't quite discern the cause. It might have been the adrenaline coursing through him, or perhaps the icy grip of fear chilling his core. As a member of the golden trio, he was supposed to feel invincible, yet his stomach churned with such intensity that nausea threatened to overwhelm him. He swallowed hard, determined not to give in to the urge to vomit again after managing to hold it back for several days. Despite everything, he found himself seeking solace in the sensation of Nova's fingers gently weaving through his hair, though even that grounding touch couldn't fully settle the turmoil within him.

"I notice you've started to grasp its profound significance," Firenze said deliberately. "Throughout your life, Harry, you've been part of a grander scheme. The person you remember yourself being is you, yet also isn't. To truly become a master of death, you must embrace death three times."

Meet death …. three times.

Harry felt sick. He wanted to scream out the overwhelming emotions crashing over him—anger, sadness, and perhaps something even deeper and darker—but for now, he restrained himself. He bottled up the feelings, letting them suffocate within.

He had survived the killing curse, one of the tree unforgiveble, but that did not count as it was his mothers sacrefise that had saved him. The only encounter with death he could think of was during the battle at Hogwarts, where he willingly sacrificed himself for others. He had come to terms with his destiny, accepting his death.

But, then how was he the master of death now?, having already passed the test that death had set before him. But how? he had only died one time, and yet he had gain the titel.

A chill seized his heart, as it was said, if he'd faced death once in this life, he must have faced it as Harald twice. His hands trembled uncontrollably, his breath came in uneven gasps, and cold sweat trickled down his forehead and neck as he fought to suppress the nausea.

Harry had recently come to terms with the fact that these were memories he had—visions of a previous life and the existence of a soulmate. He glanced at his right arm, where a floral tattoo wound its way up from his elbow to his bicep. The colors were muted, but the flowers were alive, unlike in Loki's last memory where they had wilted and died. The presence of these living flowers signified that Loki was alive too.

Loki was real and alive, somewhere. But it did not feel right either. Harry caressed his fingers over the pale petals; in his memories, they had been vibrant blue, soft purple, and golden yellow. These, on his arms, were like an old washed-out sheet, like the colors had been washed away. Still alive but not healthy. Harry had one last question to ask, a problem he had to know the answer to but was terrified of the answer itself.

He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Only a soft whispering sound left his throat at first, and he moistened his dry lips. He had to know.

"my soul s-soulmate is he… i-is he ..?"

Firenze suddenly looked down at him, unblinking. The silence made it pretty clear that either he did not know or he knew and dreaded to tell him. Harry could feel parts of his soul begin to fall apart, a pain he had never experienced, not even during the cruciate curse had it hurt so much. It was like inhaling needles, and the slightest touch cut deep into his legs.

"What I can see, he is alive," the palomino said low, but something in his eyes was almost like pity; why was that?" but I have see the edge of darkness, and madness surrounding his soul."

So not well… not well at all. A sharp feeling made Harry jerk away and bend forward only to gasp for air. It suddenly felt as if something was clogging his airways as a giant hand hugged his throat. He tried to draw oxygen down to his lungs, which suddenly screamed for the need for oxygen. A metallic taste of blood what the last drop that made his stomach turn inside out and Harry could not keep its content down. He threw himself to the side and vomited up the little food he had managed to eat.

Why had he never thought of that before ?. His memories of Loki were pushed into his field of vision, and his stomach vomited once more. He felt someone hold his long hair away from his face as he emptied the last of the pungent liquid. The pain in his chest and the suffocation feeling was suddenly too much for him to handle. And before Harry could do anything about it, he had collapsed and the darkness welcomed him like an old friend.

.⬝:*¨¨*:⬝.💓.⬝:*¨¨*:⬝.☯.⬝:*¨¨*:⬝.💓.⬝:*¨¨*:⬝.

"Thank you for coming so quickly," said King Freye, Harald's father, as he personally led the small crowd os asguardians. "We have tried everything, but he is getting worse quickly, now I fear the worse"

As they moved quickly alongside the king, Freya inquired, "How serious is the situation?" They didn't pause at the doorway, which the guards promptly opened for them, leading into a room that felt noticeably more oppressive than the area outside.

"He is still alive, although we’re uncertain how much longer he will remain so. A few of our top curse breakers and healers are working on him. I've notified my brother, but I’m unsure of when he will arrive. In the meantime, they are keeping him stable, but the magic isn’t affecting the curse."

Loki made an effort to focus on the conversation around him, truly he did. Yet his heart continued to pound painfully in his chest, and his right arm felt as if it were engulfed in relentless flames. He would do anything for his soulmate; there was nothing he wouldn't give up. Harald was his beacon, his anchor when his emotions raged like a turbulent sea and he was swept away in the chaos it caused. Harald was his center, a center that had suddenly been ripped from him because someone failed to keep him safe. He should have been here protecting him! Loki felt an overwhelming urge to scream and smash every nearby object.

Loki could no longer sense him; there was no comforting warmth or tingling in his chest with each heartbeat, no awareness of his emotions or thoughts. It was as though the connection was void, as if the darkness had swallowed all the surrounding light and vitality, leaving an empty void, as though it was drawing him in.

Loki inhaled deeply, bracing himself for what lay ahead. He was ready to do whatever was necessary to rescue Harald. If sacrificing his own life was required, then he would accept that fate. He was determined to do anything for his little light. However, the moment he stepped through the door and laid eyes on Harald, he was paralyzed. The breath left his lungs, and a chilling numbness washed over him.

The royal red sheets sharply contrasted with the small figure nestled within them. Although Harald was small in stature, he appeared like a mere child in the vast expanse of the bed—vulnerable and shattered. His skin was almost translucent and his face twisted in agony, exacerbated the frailty of his already delicate body.

Loki could feel how the mark burned again at the same time as Haralds jerked under the covers. Pain was good; it meant that there was still something holding them together, that there was still hope. Slowly he went further into the room, and his gaze was- as if anything- nailed to the little creature in front of him; he barely dared to blink because he was afraid he would disappear from his view.

Loki could see the narrow veins under Haralds pale skin; it was almost as if he could see straight through them to the muscles on the underside. The previously lively midnight black hair was now gathered in a thick braid over his shoulder, still and lifeless. Whether it was due to sweat or something else, he did not know. But one thing he knew, Harald's hair never stayed in place. Loki forced himself to breathe; he was here now; there was still time.

"Who did this?" Loki barely recognized his voice, his hand was just above Harald's but he did not dare touch him. It felt like just a light touch would break his skin, and it was wrong, so, so wrong.

King Freyr sighed, and it looked like decades had passed on his face in a mear hour that had passed. "We suspect that someone sealed his magic with a powerful spell, a sealing curse of the sort."

"What?" Loki gasped in disbelief, feeling his heart plummet into his stomach. Anything but this! "Then break the seal!" Weren't they supposed to be experts at handling seals? Harald frequently boasted about this skill and was always eager to challenge Loki with it in various scenarios.

“We have tried. The one who created the seal is powerful. It pains me to say even better than my knowledge on the subject. Harald could have broken it, but without his magic ... " it was impossible, the words remained unsaid and he shook his head.

"Do we know who is to blame?" asked Thor, who had remained surprisingly calm and in the background, something that was very unusual for the otherwise big clown who loved to be at the center.

The king was silent for a good while, only looking down at his son, his eyes filled with guilt and sorrow. "Yes, we recognized the magic," the king softly said, bowing his head slightly in shame, "it is my sister. We have already sent out our best warriors to search for her "

"Then point me into their direction, and I will personally lead them in their search for this witch," Thor said with a voice filled with anger and begging for revenge, for this was his brother-to-be, and no one messed with his family, blood or not.

Loki stared down at his lover's still body and bit hard on the inside of his cheek. He put his hand on Harad's chest, which rose slowly. He tried to ignore the cold feeling that spread along his arm and closed his eyes to concentrate. Slowly he let his magic flow down towards Haralds; the awful empty feeling invaded him as soon as he touched it. Suddenly it felt as if his magic was quickly beginning to sucked out of him. It was as if he suddenly became stuck in a vortex and a pulling sensation at his navel made him jerk with a strong gasp and quickly broke the abnormal connection.

He could feel his eyes burning hot, and the air became heavier when they realized that his attempt to break the seal had failed. Loki wanted to growl in pure anger; he would not give up, but what could he do? The magic was literary being sucked out off its vessel.

“ Loki , love? How long do we have? ” Freya rested her hand on Harald's forehead; she felt the sorrow and panic tearing at her like a hungry wolf at her son's chosen one.

“Hardly any time at all! fuck! " Loki swore fiercely and ripped from his mother's touch and backed away. He shook his hand vigorously through his hair. Whatever sealed Harald's magic, it sucked life out of him, already now he could feel how his body struggled to even function as far as it could. His body had already begun to shut down.

“Lo .. ki?” The hoarse rough voice made everyone fall silent in the room, and their eyes fell on the owner.

Loki was quickly back by his side and he now let his hand gently touch the cold sweaty cheek of his little light. The feeling was so wrong, so sick and Loki had to hold down his reflex to pull his hand away. There was not an ounce of magic moving over his skin, he felt nothing coming from him and it was about to kill Harald.

Harald was the embodiment of magic; without it, he wouldn't exist. Loki, on the other hand, was different. While Harald was pure, untamed magic, Loki was merely a vessel that could harness and wield its energy. This situation felt like a punishment for Loki's failures. He should have ensured Harald's safety from the outset and never left his side. If he had stayed, none of this would have occurred. But now it had, and Loki felt utterly powerless—a feeling he despised. He couldn't even save the one who meant everything to him, his entire world. If he couldn't protect Harald, what purpose did he serve?

"..You came." Harald wispreds, his breath was wet as he let the air out.

"Of course I came, I can not even leave you for a week, and you get in trouble" Loki let his fingers caress the cold sweaty cheek because no matter how abnormal it felt, he needed to feel the contact.

Harald laughed softly, but the laughter was quickly replaced by a heavy cough that made him grimace in a second of pain before his features were smoothed out. The dull eyes looked at him again, and he tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace than anything else.

“True ... you should never leave me again… ever. When we married, I will tie you to me.”

Loki's saliva got stuck in his throat, and he tried to swallow the lump that forms there "never again, you will never get rid of me, ever."

Freya put her hand on her youngest son's shoulder but said nothing, and the rest of the people withdrew to give the young couple some privacy. Suddenly a new hard cough tore through the already weak body, and Loki hurried forward to help him sit up. All the people in the room were as if forgotten in distress over his little one .

Harald barely had any strength left even to sit still, but Loki was quickly there by his side and supported him. But the coughing soon stopped and Loki could see the red drops of blood that adorned Harald's hand, like small rosebuds on a young bush.

Harald tried to tell him that everything would be fine, that he could do without magic. But no words came out of him. If there was one thing he did not do, it was to lie, especially not to Loki . He rested his head against the warm arm that stood right next to him while he took several agitated breaths and felt someone wipe away the red liquid.

Harald knew a lot about what was happening; he could feel how his energy and magic were sucked out of him and how his inside burned from the loss. He could not remember exactly what had happened but, something had hit him in chest, a pendal? and soon afterward, an intense pain had spread through his body. Harald felt an unnatural cold sweep against his sweaty skin and tremors spread through his body.

"is it cold here?"

Loki carefully wrapped his little mate in his arms as he laid his hand on his forehead; he closed his own eyes when he felt the fever that was raging inside of him. "No love, you burning up,"

Harald took the chance to bury his face into his mate's neck and breathe in his unique scent, calming himself. " Please , hold me," he mumbled, and he did not have to ask twice before the warm, familiar body of his beloved was around him. He felt so exhausted, and the worst thing was that he could no longer feel Loki in his magic. He was gone entirely, but at the same time he was right next to him. It felt unnatural and so wrong.

"Come one little one, you have to fight this with me"

"Who said I stopped fighting?" Harald murmurs low into his chest. "And who are you calling little?"

Loki chuckled low, "No one"

"there you go."

"cheeky"

Harald snickered but was soon attacked by another coughing fit that soon subdued. Loki slowly wiped the blood away from his cheek and held back his tears as he rested his head against his and vanished the last blood with his magic. Harald was breathing profusely and had closed his eyes and was trying to concentrate on getting oxygen down. but had difficulty making a simple movement. He closed his eyes in a new kind of panic that grabbed him as he could not breath, it was like he was slipping under water.

“Hey, hey, it's okay, look at me, breath,” Loki said as he gripped softly around Harald's cheek, forcing his gaze up to his“ Breath, love.”He began to take deep breaths himself to stimulate the movement, in and out slowly, in and out. Loki could feel his hand convulsively hugging Harald's damp tunic as it rested over his heart.

Loki jerked when he felt a pair of cold fingers put on his hand. " I love…you " Harald whispered as his breathing stabilized.

There was still a low gurgling undertone in his that worried Loki. "I can not lose you, Harald, you are the light that keeps my darkness at bay ……. I can not lose you. I can not… ... I love you too much"

"I…know, but we both know… that time is running out " Harald squeezed his hand that was placed over his heart before letting his fingers look up at Lokis ' head and pulling them through the silky shoulder-length hair. He pressed his forehead hard against Loki's and closed his eyes.

" Do not ... do not say that," Loki's voice was now low, almost a whisper under his breath.

“ I …. Harald took a deep breath. The oxygen burned on the way down as if a thousand needles scraped up his insides, and he grimaced, "I will not give up, but I can feel it, Loki, I can feel the hole in my core, sucking the magic away, and I can not do… anything…. about it ”

" But I can, " Loki murmured as Harald nodded.

The burning sensation increased tenfold when he let his magic seep into Harald. Loki could see the problem; he saw chains embracing a black hole. It almost seemed as if light, in this case all magic, was sucked into it and just disappeared, and the feeling that spread around Loki could only be described as horrible. Loki gasped as the spell forced him out, and he felt the fatigue grip him. It almost felt like he had run several laps around Asgard non-stop with Thor chasing behind him.

Harald lay still, his hand still wrapped in his hair and holding such a firm grip on his head that he could handle at the moment. From Loki's expression, he could see that he had again failed to break the curse yet again, and he tried not to feel discured. He didn't want to die; he wasn't ready.

"I remember the first time I ever felt your energy," Harald said softly, letting his fingers slowly make circles in Loki's scalp, "it was so strong and powerful, even though you were poisoned and lay there, waiting for death.” he mumured with a smile, remembering the young man he had saved. “ I remember how the feeling felt - wrong- , as if you were not meant to be embraced by death yet. And I was right, it was not your time to go and that feeling was constant there all the time I took care of you."

Loki put his arms around the fragile body and held him closer. "And it's not your time to go either, stop talking like it is" Loki replied and turned his head slightly and kissed his wrist.

Harald smiled weakly and leaned his forehead against his "I'm not; I get the same feeling now, Loki,"

It made the other black-haired man quickly open his eyes and stare into the dark greens in sheer surprise, " what ?"

"You heard me perfectly the first time, oldy." Harald said with a low laugh, “I get the same feeling like that day, that it is not my time to face death. I trust you, I know that if anyone can fix this, it's you”

Loki felt burning tears threatening to fall and he narrowed his eyes. He could feel how a proud feeling grew within him, his strong phenomenal mate. He didn't back down, not even when it looked terrible, and here Loki lay grieving because he was not strong enough or could handle it. Since when had he ever doubted his own ability! He was Prince Loki of Asgard, the god of chaos, lies, and magic.

"Don't let me go," Harald whispered as he pressed his forehead harder against his, but his eyes stirred firmly into his, "fight it"

"I do! " Loki growled harshly" do you think you want to suffer like this? Do you think this is how I want to see you? I try, but I do not know what to do, this is magic I have not even encountered except what you have shown me and it has also taken time for me to breakthrough! And we do not have time ... ” Loki jerked out of the loose grip that Harald had on him and sat up in bed.

He was angry, and he was just as terrified. He could feel the pressure weighing down his senses, and he could not concentrate enough to force the energy, and time was running out. Always the time. He felt crushed underneath it all, and his chest ached like the bleeding hole that was around Harald's core. The only warning he received that something suddenly was wrong was a firm grip on his hand and Loki's gaze immediately turned to his little lover. But what he saw caused his whole world to fall apart. Harald's eyes were wildly wide open and his mouth wide open.

Harald had not been prepared for this attack to come so close to the other. He had tried to take a deep breath to say that Loki was wrong. But it was as if his lungs and nearby muscles ended up functioning completely. It quickly turned into a full-blown coughing fit as he tried to force the air out of him while he could not get anything down. Harald tried to catch his breath between the fits but he could not get enough oxygen down, and his vision was going dark, his head was spinning and he could feel cold hands on him and his mates voice trying to calm him down. But he could not, his voice sounded like he was miles away and he was inside at a bowl at the same time. He was rolled onto his side as blood started to sip out of his mouth, only for it to cover his chin and chest with each new cough.

But he could not breathe.

Panic gripped Loki as he scooped up his mate in his arms and pulled himself behind him so that his back was to his chest. His arms were tightly wrapped around the shaking body that was desperately trying to get air, but with each breath his throat was filled with blood that now was bubbling from his mouth. Somewhere to the side Loki could see others trying to help, holding out a towel to soak up the blood, having potions and water ready to soothe his little mate. But Loki turned it all out.

He put his hand against Harald's throat. Loki could feel the Adam's apple desperately sinking up and down and the wildly pounding pulse beat against his fingers when the coughing tore at Harald, but nothin got down thanks to the blood. He forced his magic to focus on banishing only the blood that closed his airways and instantly Harald could breathe again . He drew in several painfully deep breaths as he was still struggling with the blood coming back up fast. It was like a significant vessel in his lungs had broken.

Loki's grip around Harald's neck was unyielding, infused with a fierce determination. Each time the suffocating sensation of drowning engulfed Harald, it vanished just as swiftly, leaving him gasping for air. Every ragged breath he managed to draw burned like molten fire through his frail body.

Loki held him firmly, propped against his chest, as Harald inclined his head slightly, allowing his forehead to rest against Loki's neck. Loki could feel the laborious breaths his fragile mate managed to take, not only from the faint puffs of air ghosting over his sweat-slicked throat but also where his hand still pressed against Harald's neck. Each breath was strained and agonizingly light, yet they were there, and he was still alive.

Loki hadn't realized the extent of his own trembling until he felt a faint, almost ghostly touch on the hand that gently encircled Harald's neck. He attempted to open his eyes, but his vision remained a blurred and unfocused haze, no matter how much he blinked. The icy hand brushed against his cheek, and only then did he realize that it was tears obscuring his sight.

Despite the weakness in his grasp, Harald managed to entwine their fingers, desperately needing to hold onto that connection, however fragile it might be. It was a small gesture but it meant everything to Loki in that moment. To know that even in this terrifying situation, Harald still trusted him and sought comfort in him.

Harald's coughing had subsided for now but he was still struggling to breathe properly. His body trembled with fear and exhaustion as Loki held him close. He could feel Loki's heartbeat against his back and it gave him some sense of calm amidst the chaos.

Loki felt a surge of protectiveness towards Harald at that moment. He wanted nothing more than to make sure his mate was safe and well.

Harald's head spun as if caught in a relentless storm. Each labored breath dragged him back to the present, each one more difficult than the last. He could feel Loki's arms wrapped tightly around his trembling form, his grip firm and unyielding. It was a silent vow, a promise that no one else would lay a hand on his soulmate now.

Harald's lips parted in an attempt to speak, but no words emerged, only a strangled, choking sound that echoed his struggle. His chest heaved with each raspy breath as he leaned heavily against Loki's chest for support. Harald's lips parted in an attempt to speak, but no words emerged, only a strangled, choking sound that echoed his struggle.

No, no, no. Loki struggled to stop his trembling, but the words repeated endlessly in his mind. This situation was becoming all too real and distressingly quickly. He couldn't bear the thought of losing him, his precious light. Yet, he couldn't concentrate, couldn't channel his magic without it falling apart. He was powerless, unsure of how to save Harald, his world, his beloved. It seemed he'd be the reason for Harald's demise, simply because he lacked the strength to break the spell.

Harald frantically struggled to draw a breath, but his body refused to even initiate a cough. His eyes widened in terror as a choking, gurgling noise escaped him. Loki hurriedly placed his hand around Harald's neck again, attempting to clear the blood, but unlike before, it proved futile. Each time he cleared some of the fluid, it quickly replenished, and the more blood he removed, the less there was to sustain the rest of Harald's body.

Harald's eyelids began to droop, heavy with exhaustion, as the energy to remain awake seeped away from him like water from a cracked vessel. His entire body slackened against Loki's chest, surrendering to the inevitable pull of oblivion. The last vestiges of vitality drained from his being, leaving behind an empty shell. His chest no longer rose and fell with the rhythm of breath, his heart no longer beat its steady cadence.

"No!" Loki shouted, his voice full of anguish. "No, don't you dare! I won't allow it, do you hear me? You promised it wasn't your time." Both of Loki's hands pressed firmly over Harald's heart, where the magic core resided.

The black, empty sphere wrapped in shimmering purple chains taunted him. He ignored the feeling of Harald's dead weight in his arms and blocked out all the surrounding voices to focus entirely. He unleashed all his remaining magic and energy against the seal, indifferent to the consequences for himself. He relentlessly hurled his power at the chains, repeatedly striking them until he noticed a small crack forming, which expanded more with each attack.

Loki had to push himself to the brink of exhaustion to finally break through the thick layer of magic that encased Harald's magic. But with one final burst of energy, he succeeded. The chains shattered into millions of pieces, freeing Harald from its prison.

Furniture was pushed away harshly at the wave of magic, and windows exploded outwards by the immense force thrown in from both of them. Loki desperately held on to Harald's magical core and drove in his energy, forcing the core to absorb it.

A blinding light erupted from within Harald's chest as his magic surged outward. It seemed to fill every corner of the room before dispersing into tiny sparks that drifted toward Loki like fireflies on a summer night. With each spark that touched him, Loki felt strength and warmth flow back into Harald’s body.

Suddenly, Harald's magic surged around them, an overwhelming flood of warmth and satisfaction. Their breaths synchronized perfectly, their magic entwining with an unbreakable force, a shared energy vibrating fiercely through their bodies. It bound them together on a profound level, deeper than anything they had ever experienced. From this moment, they were literally one and the same, fused in an inseparable union.

Loki opened his eyes and blinked to focus. He turned his attention back to Harald and saw that color had returned to his cheeks. Haralds chest rose and fell once again as he took in deep breaths. Slowly but surely, life returned to him. Loki could see his mates black hair moving in the pulsating energy that was still flowing from both of them. He could feel the light but steady breaths against his arms and he thanked the nine that his beloved was still alive.

Tears flowed freely from Loki's eyes as he held onto Harald tightly like a lifeline. "You're alive," he whispered shakily.

However, something seemed off. Loki blinked repeatedly, attempting to clear the dark green from his sight. Yet, it remained. Hesitantly, he relaxed his hold just enough to clearly see what had unexpectedly appeared before him. Though Harald lay limp in his embrace, it was not this that caused his mother to gasp or prompted the fae king to offer a silent prayer in awe.

The real reason was what lay between Loki's chest and Harald's back. He gazed at the enormous feathered wings that spread out majestically from Harald's back. He allowed his magic to envelop the untamed energy that erupted from Harald's body as the wings gently flapped at their side.

From the very beginning, they were soul mates because their magic needed each other for balance. They depended on one another to function. Now, more than ever, he sensed Harald's magic surging like an avalanche. Tears of joy streamed down his cheeks as he managed his partner's magic to prevent it from spiraling out of control. He succeeded. The magic intertwined with his own, like warm, gentle flames that could potentially burst and expand. But he kept it contained, kept Harald secure. Loki murmured endearing words as he kissed Harald's sweat-dampened black hair.

"I knew you could do it" Harald told him with a raspy but smug voice

Loki could not help laughing; luckily, one of them believed that. He was convinced that the stress of the ordeal had given him gray hairs. Unable to respond, Loki felt the weight of his own exhaustion as the tension dissipated. Without any objections, they both slipped into a deep, restorative sleep, utterly drained both physically and magically, yet still alive.

Chapter Text

What was he supposed to do? What on earth should he do? Harry was literally freaking out. How in the world was he supposed to deal with this level of strangeness? This was even worse than his usual string of bad luck.

Why couldn't he just deal with the physical transformations and be done with it? He paced back and forth in the hallway, the only sounds breaking the morning silence were his footsteps and the steady ticking of the large clock.

Harry tossed his hair back and groaned as he clutched it tightly. He tugged at it, feeling a stinging and sharp pain in his scalp, but in his frustration, it actually felt somewhat relieving.

He awoke not just encircled by concerned centaurs and foals milling about him, but also facing a new twist of fate that seemed determined to complicate his life further. The latest memory, still burning vividly in his mind, had left him with an unexpected gift.

At first, he thought he might relive the agonizing moment of Harald's death; he could still vividly feel Loki's pain and despair, almost as if it were his own. After all, he had to go through that to become who he is today, right? He was Lord Harry Potter-Black, not Harald Fayereson, the fae prince and fiancé of the mischievous god.

Yes, Harry had begun to realize that he was transforming, becoming more like Harald with each passing day. It was as if his two lives were merging into a harmonious blend. He remained Harry, yet he was also becoming Harald. With a sigh, Harry paused and gazed up at the beautifully ornate ceiling. It wasn't just his mind grappling with an identity crisis; the memories were also causing another alteration in his physical appearance. And this time, it was the most substantial change yet!

Why could his life not be normal? Nooo, he had to get bloody freaking green wings that had decided to grow out of his back. And he was freaking out. Not to mention that they were huge!

Harry could feel them flexing on his back with each strong emotion that shot through his body. And to boot, he was getting more and more annoyed by the minutes as his mind started to tell him to as he quote -get a fucking grip- on himself. It felt like his very own mind had expanded with the new development, and he could process things scary fast. Then, there was that damn tingling sensation in the back of his mind screaming that something was missing, something that should be there. He felt empty, hollow even.

This was unsettling for him. Harry shut his eyes and took deep breaths. It felt like winter had overstayed its welcome, even though it was already April, casting a chill around him. Yet, the hallway he stood in was comfortably warm, quite the opposite of cold, which only confused him further. How could he feel so icy while actually feeling fine? Was he starting to develop another persona? Could it be that 'Harald' was a separate entity in his mind, and he had misunderstood the situation entirely?

Though it did not feel right either, Harry rubbed his chest, just over his heart. It was not in his head that the feeling came from; it was from his core. It was as if he was missing a piece of himself as if it had expanded, but the magic that would be there was dormant. Harry exhaled heavily, his shoulders sank, and so did the wings that gently pulled against his back, but they were still there.

The memory had given him much to think about. On one hand, he began to realize that it was more to this situation than he understood. He could no longer deny the warming ever-growing feeling he felt for Loki, even though he physically, in this body in any case, never met him.

He recalled experiencing this emotion once before when he first began dating Ginny. However, as they matured, they realized their affection was more akin to that of siblings. Despite this, the sensation was recognizable, and he was certain he already loved the ingenious black-haired deity. He needed answers; in fact, he needed several.

Harry ran his fingers through his hair once more before ascending the stairs, moving with deliberate steps towards Ron and Hermione's section of the manor. He paused outside their bedroom door, uncertain. It was still early, yet they were typically up by now. He lifted his hand to knock but hesitated just before his knuckles could tap the heavy door that secluded them from the outside world. He had to discuss this new development with them. A soft murmur emerged from behind the door, and Harry wiped his sweaty hands on his trousers.

"emh, guys," he started, a little unsure how to name his current problem, "I… .might have a bit of a problem this morning that I need your help with"

"Noo… go away" Ron's groan could be heard through the massive door, and Harry could not help a chuckle to escape him. Ron had never been a morning person.

"I would love to, but this is kind of a big problem" he should perhaps feel more ashamed of disturbing their morning because it sounded like they had had a long and undoubtedly fun night.

"Oh god, Harry," he could hear Ron groan again, "we are not helping you with your little morning 'problem', go away!"

He could hear Hermione's tired muffled voice, and he stared strangely at the door before casting a nervous glance at the green wings. They should be happy that he did not rush in right away when he had come back to the mansion two hours earlier. But he needed to get rid of these wings quickly; he had a god to find, and a pair of massive wings would only attract more attention than his scars used to do.

"I'm serious. I need your help with this one. I would not disturb you if I did not feel it was important."

"I'm so not awake for this," Ron grumbled behind the door, and Harry could hear the squeak of the bed as he got up from the bed and the heavy steps leading up to the door.

Harry's wings trembled and unfurled slightly, betraying the nervous energy coursing through him. He wrestled with his emotions, trying to quell the unease. These were his closest friends, practically family, who had supported him through the bizarre transformations he had recently undergone. Yet, doubt lingered—would they continue to stand by him through this new challenge?

"Harry, mate, we love you, but not like that. Could you handle your morning issue in the shower or something?" The rustling of clothes was audible, and Harry stared at the door as it seemed to suddenly lunge at him.

Why bother taking a shower? It wouldn't fix his current predicament... or would it? He gazed at the wings, tilting his head slightly, curious if they were as water-resistant as a bird's. Could he actually fly with them? A tiny voice in his mind suddenly affirmed he could, and fast too. Great. He now had a voice in his head—Harald's voice, to be exact. It was official: he was losing his mind.

"Seriously, Harry," Ron said as he opened the door and got tired in the face before looking at him. Just to blink again, and then again. Ron rubbed his eyes to try to get his sight in order, but the wings did not disappear.

Harry looked at him and waited; they just stared at each other before Ron cleared his throat a little nervously, " Herms, I think you need to see this, this is a problem that no cold shower would fix, I guess."

"No! I do not want to see his so-called problem, Ronald," she groaned. "Not when he disturbed my morning plans."

Ron chuckled nervously and blushed a little while Harry raised his eyebrows amusingly. "I can promise you that you want to see this, love," Ron said to his girlfriend before taking a step around Harry.

"You just have to perform one miracle after another," the red-haired man shook his head, amused, "are they real? Can you move them?"

Harry nodded and let his wings flex, and Ron whistled impressively

"yes, to all question, the problem is I can't get rid of them," Harry said and angled them slightly forward so they could spread more in the corridor.

"bloody hell Harry, you do not do things the normal way, do not you?"

"apparently not."

"Can I touch them?"

Harry nodded, "yeah, but be careful" A shiver went through him when he could feel Ron's fingers pulling against his wings, and he frowned slightly at the strange feeling that spread within him.

"Oh, blimey… they are solid."

Harry twitched under his touch again and unwrapped them when he heard clattering steps from the household's female person. Her hair stood in all directions and edges, and the magic lay tightly around the slightly upset woman and made her hair stand out even more. However, her anger suddenly disappeared when she looked at Harry's so-called morning problems. He stared at them for a second before sighting.

"I'm just going to change my clothes, we'll meet in the library in a moment," she just said and turned in the door and went back inside.

Harry and Ron looked at each other before shrugging, and the red-haired man followed his girlfriend and left Harry in the hallway.

It felt good to no longer have to deal with this problem alone, and with those thoughts, Harry went back to his room. He needed to change his clothes. It wasn't long before Harry stood in front of his mirror and took in his whole new look.

The patio door was slightly open, allowing the soft chirping of birds to filter in, creating a soothing background ambiance. However, Harry couldn't appreciate the calmness as he used to; his focus was on his own reflection, particularly his wings. Sunlight streaming through the large windows gave the wings an almost iridescent quality. The once dark green shades appeared more vibrant, and with a slight turn, they seemed to have a metallic sheen. As Harry ran his fingers over the wingtips, he noted mentally that his touch was entirely different from Ron's. Ron's touch had felt off—accepting, yet somehow inappropriate.

However, if it wasn't one thing, it was another, and now Harry faced a new challenge: figuring out how to remove his clothes. Initially, he attempted to pull them over his head, but his wings detached, causing discomfort as bent feathers were quite unpleasant. Ultimately, he sent his clothes to the laundry basket and stood there in just his trunks. Harry glanced over his body again. His skin remained light but with a golden hue; his right arm displayed the soul mark that extended over his shoulder, and when he twisted, he could see how it continued down his back, stopping just above his buttocks.

The wings grew out of his shoulder blades, and when he flexed them, he could see the extra muscles that moved under the skin. Silvery scars were still clearly visible in the sun's rays, a testimony to his tough childhood. He noticed them scattered across his body and ran his hand over his chest and down his somewhat defined abdomen. While he wasn't exactly a hulking mass of muscle, he was slender with long, sinewy muscles beneath his skin and not a trace of fat.

He had always had a hard time putting on weight, and no matter how much Madame Pomfrey tried to remedy this. It was a curse; in fact, he had wanted to be a few pounds heavier. He had never understood the female sex when they complained that they needed to lose a few pounds and how difficult it was to lose it, so they skipped food.

Honestly, it was just as hard for him to put some pounds on his body as it was for them to lose some!. No matter how much he ate, his body refused to get the amount he needed before it threatened to come up, and his brain shouted at him several times not to eat, to freaks that he did not need food, he could survive on air if so required.

Harry shook his head vigorously, clenching his teeth. The memories of his difficult childhood burned in his mind. He despised it. He felt broken, unable to fully escape the shadow of his past, despite all his efforts. Eleven years of physical and mental abuse couldn’t be undone in just a few years. Thankfully, he had a supportive family who cared for him and understood his struggles.

He also had Loki; he just needed to find him. Harry had never really been a person for fashion; if he could wear the clothes, well, then they were good enough for him. Any clothes were better than Dudley's hand me down.

He gently let his fingers stroke the tips of his wings again. It almost felt like he was patting a velvet pillow or something. He looked down at the shirt he had chosen, it was impossible to put on the usual way, but he also did not like having to conjure one on himself. When he did, the material always felt wrong against his skin. As if someone decided to put a rock in them or something.

Harry grimaced and threw away his shirt to try to find something else. The bed pile grew as he threw more and more clothing in the ever-growing pile before he got to the tops. Why could he not have thought of this before? He pulled out a white training top where the back joined together in a Y, which left the shoulder blades almost entirely free.

Now came the next problem, to put it on. Harry would forever keep quiet about the strangest and most demanding attire he had ever had to go through, and he also promised never to complain about having too much clothing. He simply did not have enough variety to choose from, so with the first day's goal completed, he went down past the kitchen to pick up some food and entered the library.

He put down the tray with fruit, and even the tea he had levitated behind him; he was the first to be there. He picked up the parchment and started writing down what he needed to find. The first was a book about creature heritages, and the second was about Nordic gods and mythology.

He bit into the apple while writing down what he knew about Loki and his current situation realized that it was still apart. Florence had confirmed that the memories were from previous lives, so it meant that there was a reason why they were awakened now in connection with his creature's blood appeared. Harry tried to look more objectively at his memories, but it felt like he still did not have all the puzzle pieces.

They were there, just out of reach, but he suspected that his brain needed to have a rest period between the different visions and be able to adjust itself to the changes. So that meant he could expect more memories. But at the same time, a feeling within him had begun to grow, his magic was trying to take shape after the cavity, and it was almost as if he could feel it.

Harry closed his eyes and 'poked' at the feeling; he pressed a little harder and suddenly felt how it pushed back hard; a wave of irritation hit him, irritation that was not his own, and the memory flashed before him.

.⬝:*¨¨*:⬝.💓.⬝:*¨¨*:⬝.☯.⬝:*¨¨*:⬝.💓.⬝:*¨¨*:⬝.

Harald inhaled deeply, savoring the fresh air permeating the room. The fragrance of flowers wafted in through the wide-open window, mingling with the scent of impending spring rain that hadn't yet begun to fall. He had returned to Asgard after several weeks of recuperating from a near-death experience. His magical core, if such a thing could be described as tender, was still sensitive. Regardless, his magic had expanded significantly, bringing with it the growing pains associated with this transformation.

Harald had fully embraced his heritage. He had anticipated that mastering his magic would be more challenging than it turned out to be, and he likely owed this ease to Loki. Throughout Harald's recovery, the dark-haired prince rarely left his side, always there with comforting words, gentle touches, and ready to cater to his every need. Eventually, it became overwhelming, and Harald had to send Loki away, instructing him to focus on his royal responsibilities. After all, Loki wasn't going to abandon the palace, and Harald was secure there.

After everything that had happened, everyone involved had agreed that Harald would move to Asgard. It was also here that it had been decided that they would live after their wedding, which was fast approaching. They had not been able to find his aunt, who had almost suceeded to killed him. He still could not understand what he had done to earn that treatment. Why had she betrayed him? Her family none the less.

Even though he had sent Loki away to have some peace, it didn't mean he got to be alone; not at all. He felt a twitch of annoyance at his temple as he looked over at his currenly problem that was casually leaned against the doorway.

"Why are you here?"

"Because I have nothing to do," Thor's voice was light and could easily be misinterpreted as innocent, but Harald could see through it, and his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"..... really?" Harald looked at him with a deadpanned expression. He did not believe the blond prince for a second. He knew what he was doing, and Harald promised that he would punish Loki thoroughly after this.

The blonde brother was simply on babysitting duty, and he was going to be this annoying the whole time.

"I can help you with that," Harald said slowly and closed the book he had been reading until now, "you can start with this; put the book where it belongs."

Thor gave the book a strange look, "And why should I do that?"

"Because you have nothing to do," Harald replied with a gentle smile and pushed the big, heavy book forward with magic to the other side of the table, and Thor slowly walked towards it. He then took the book up, walked over to the next table, put it down with a loud thump, and turned contentedly towards Harald again. Mission accomplished.

The black-haired male stared at him, his mouth half-open, and closed it only to then open it again in pure disbelief. "Did… Did you just move the book from one table to the next one?"

"yes ..? you asked me to."

"So only to make it clear, you took the book from this table right in front of me, and put it away on the other one, next to you… and not where it belongs?"

Thor glanced at the book, then back at him, nodding, puzzled by why the small man seemed on the verge of laughter.

“It’s a book; it belongs in a library, and we are in a library, so it belongs here” Thor had done what he had been asked to do; he had put the book where it belonged. Right? There were books all around the tables, so why not?

Harald could no longer hold it in, and he broke down in giggles, which then broke out into a loud amused laugh. He needed to take support on the table for not to fall to the ground in a helpless heap as his shoulders shook in laughter.

Thor gave him a confused look that narrowed when he realized that he was just laughed at and grinned. Two could play this game. So he picked up his belovwe hammer and went forward to put it down on the table with a broad smile while the young man continued to laugh at him.

Harald collected himself and shook his head; this whole thing was amusing; he was so telling Loki when he was back. But as he reached out for his next magic totem to read, he stopped and stared at the large, but strangely, beautiful hammer that now sat heavily upon the book.

"Thor… Why is mjölner on my books?"

"I demand compensation for your laughing at my expense so that the book will do fine for a payment."

"No, just no. You can not go and put mjölner wherever you want," especially not on top of that book. Hadrian stretched out and tried to move the damn thing, but it was heavily seated on the spot.

"move it," he ordered, annoyed

"No"

“Now Thor”

“Not going to happen.”

"Please?"

"Nope"

"I will destroy it."

"You are welcome to try."

"argh, THOR !! move it"

The massive lump of straw hair chuckled, "move what now, dear brother of mine?"

Energy started to collect around Harald's hands, and his lip parted in a cold smile; magic had created the damn hammer, witchcraft could destroy it just as "I ask you just one more time, move the hammer before I corrode it!"

"if you do that, you will destroy the books."

Huh, fair point. Harald started at him before grinning again. He knew exactly what to threaten him with then to get what he wanted.

"I know a spell that will make it impossible for you to enjoy the pleasure brought out by the more intimate parts of a relationship; let's say you can get a little problem with the performance.”

" You would not dare…."

"try me," Harald threatened with a shit-eating grin, making Thor rethink his revenge. Nothing was worth that punishment.

Thor held out his hand, and the hammer quickly fell into his waiting fist and muttered softly about the devil's invention of pit spawn to brother. How could someone so fair and innocent hide such a demonic side? But this was Loki's fiancé, so it was no wonder he had such side.

"thank you very much" Harald now smiled contentedly and brushed off the book, Energy fields, and foundations of magic; thankfully, the hammer had not destroyed it. He opened the book and began to skim through the chapters until he found the part that interested him and began to read.

After Loki shattered the seal that was harming him, his magic merged with Harald's. Harald could literally sense Loki within his own magical core, and with some focus, he could feel Loki's magic pushing back. Occasionally, he even heard whispers carried on the magic. They had connected on a level deeper than anything he had ever encountered. Being soul mates was already an exceedingly rare occurrence, but having this kind of soul bond? It was like a telepathic link.

Thor still stood firmly in the doorway, looking over the much smaller male, "I have to know," he hesitated as Harald put a finger in the text to look up at him. His intense viridian green eyes focused entirely on the blonde god who was trying to formulate his words.

"Were you the one who saved Loki that night so many years ago?"

He did not even have to say what night he meant because Harald knew right away what he meant. Harald turned his gaze to the window and the budding forest that could be seen from the royal palace. There was no reason for him to deny it.

"Yes," Harald replied, turning his gaze back to Thor. "Even back then, I sensed Loki's presence and how near he was to death, yet it wasn't his time," a cold shiver ran through him. He had been on the verge of losing him, and he was grateful that fate allowed him to save Loki.

Thor was silent for a moment before he bowed his head slightly "Thank you, Harald. Thank you for saving him, for loving Loki”

Harald could not help the laughter spreading, and he shook his head in amusement. "There is absolutely nothing to thank for, Thor; I would give my own life to save Loki if needed."

He shook his head. "You saved his life, and I am forever in debt to you, and never say so again; without you, Loki would be lost."

"Didn't Loki tell me it was me?" Harald ignored the last bit. He knew that if he lost Loki, the horrible though it was, he would lose a piece of himself and guaranteed to become blinded in madness.

"No, he did not say a word about it to the healers, but after that incident, he was almost obsessed with finding you again, finding the black-haired youth that saved him, calling you a dream made true" Thor chuckled.

Harald felt a blush spread across his cheeks, and Thor gave off his classic booming laugh and patted him hard on the back.

"He was horrible to live with for a while, and we had no idea why; now, of course, we know better," Thor grinned. "It is an honor to welcome you oficially to the family,"

Harald smiled at him and wished that the treacherous blush would disappear. He blushed worse than a virgin at this moment. Something that both brothers found very amusing, one more than the other.

"Now, all that is needed is for you to name your firstborn son after me, and we are one big and happy family."

Harald unexpectedly choked on his own saliva, leading to a fit of coughing and spitting, just as the blonde deity burst into laughter. His face and neck burned with an intense blush, and he worried it might never fade. The oblivious Thor, whom he had been smiling at, gave him a final pat on the back before casually exiting, leaving Harald to wallow in his embarrassment.

Harald genuinely believed he might die right then and there. He groaned and let his head hit the cold stone wall with a thud. Trying to dispel those thoughts, he shook his head, feeling the heat of embarrassment linger. Gazing out the window, he took slow, deep breaths, allowing a sense of peace, inspired by Loki, to wash over him. He couldn't help but smile slightly; he hadn't considered having children before. Of course, he knew it would happen eventually, but children? They were still young, and it was certain it wouldn't happen for several more years if that was what lady magic wanted.

Magic. It was something to marvel at; in many parts of their kingdom, it was considered that magic was something for the female sex. That ment that it was considered a weakness, something that had begun to change with both Loki's practice and his own. Loki had even been given the title, god of magic, for his exceptional magical ability. And even Harald was considered to have an unnatural amount of magic. So that they both were intersexual did not come as a surprise. Magic does not specialize in the sexes; it creates wonders.

Harald shook his head, amused and picked up the thick book, and went to his favorite place by the window. The wide window frame was a great place to read a good book, but his thoughts were still scattered, and he kept his eyes fixed on the training ground where Thor had picked up his weapon and fought an unsuspecting trainee.

Kids, huh, the thought did not feel so strange after all. Harald could very well see a black-haired mini Loki running around and creating chaos and mischief. He rested a hand on his stomach as he placed the book on his lap and continued to read and gradually began to test the theories they contained. He was finally able to sense Loki's feelings more clearly than before and smiled proudly at the development.

Harald's gaze suddenly drew down to the floor when a soft sound came from there, and he blinked in surprise; he had not felt that someone had sneaked upon him. Below at his feet sat a cat that usually visited the palace, or he thought it was a cat anyway. It looked like one. Or maybe it was a fox? It had a long enough nose, but he still decided to classify it as a cat. The semi-long cream white cat looked up at him with his sapphire blue eyes that could only be challenged by Thor's sapphires, and he smiled down at the creature.

"hey there, what are you doing here?"

The cat jumped up smoothly in front of his feet when he made himself known, and Harald could now see two pairs of tails loosely waving behind it. Two very fluffy tails. Harald gently stretched out his hand to the cat, for that was what he intended to call it, and let it gently smell on his fingers before stroking his head against his hand, which obviously permitted him to touch it.

"What a beautiful creature you are," Harald smiled, scratched the cat under the chin, and a low spinning sound vibrated through the slender body. But what fascinated him was the feeling of magic that vibrated around it just as well. The cat stroked towards him, and with determined steps, it went up in his lap and lay down to the right and looked up at him.

He chuckled low and felt that the cat more or less ordered him to continue and slowly began to stroke the cat over the back, and the soothing vibrations were pleasant. As the cat settled down, he suspected that it would stay there for a while, so Harald picked up his book again and continued reading while his fingers continued to be pulled through the silky fur.

It was in this position that Loki found him. Call him bias, but he had never seen anything so beautiful or heartwarming than his fiancé sitting at the window with a book and the demon cats in his lap.

However, he should not be surprised; these demon cats have some lore associated with death and usually never let anyone pet them. It was even said that the cats originally came from Helheim and were death's own eyes and ears in the other realms. So that one of death servants turned to Harald was just a confirmation of what they already knew, that he still was a candidate for death throne. The two swans that hung down from Harald's lap testified that this was also one of the older demons. She seemed to be feeling very well in his lap, and Loki was not a bit jealous, not at all, and if anyone said that, he would forever deny it.

He could feel a caress over his magical core from Harald, and an amused smile crept upon Harald's lips, but he never took his eyes off the book that caught his interest.

"will you stand there the whole day, or are you going to great me?"

Loki smiled and gave only a humming sound in response before slowly walking up to him. "just admiring the beautiful creation sitting in my window."

Harald now looked up and looked at him, "your window, huh? I did not see your name here" he looked mocking down on the window, "nope, no name"

Loki gave him an amused look. "I'm pretty sure my name is somewhere, and considering you're on my property, it must mean I own you too. Who could have guessed that?"

Harald grinned, "possessive much?"

Loki bent down and caught his lips in a light kiss, but the feeling was so strong that he almost lost his breath. Loki took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, he placed his hand behind Harald's neck, and he held him firmly and felt how his lips were shaped after his. He had missed his other half, even if it had only been a few hours. He closed his eyes for a second and felt the sweet yet spicy taste he associated with Harald before slowly and almost reluctantly pulling away.

"Over you? Always" Loki caressed his cheek and could not help thanking the gods for still being by his side. He sat opposite him in the wide window frame and exhaled; he could finally relax. If it had not been for Harald's testing of their bond, he would have rushed to him every two minutes just to see that he was still there. That he was alive and that the nightmare was finally over.

"a lot happening today?"

"Indeed, my mother couldn't stop talking about the wedding, and Thor was his typical foolish self during the meeting, which led to him being unexpectedly kicked out," he grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Oh? And here I thought you sent him to act as my babysitter" Harald put a hand on his chest. "I feel so loved."

Loki gave him a teasing look, "the one who would need a babysitter is my brother. We should thank you for keeping an eye on him"

Harald smiled and pulled his hand through the demon's cat fur. "Wow, don't be so hard on him, he has a big heart but is not aware of his limits, or lack of them, and he gives his trust to everyone he considers worthy."

Loki snorted, "Yes, and he is our future King. I fear for our people."

Harald hummed, "then perhaps it is a good thing that he has you, right? To keep him on the right track."

"Perhaps" Loki looked out the window

Harald looked over to his mate and let his leg closest to the window extend so that his foot was next to Loki, "What are you thinking?"

Loki neither looked at him nor responded; his mind was so cluttered with thoughts that he couldn't determine where to start. On one hand, he was thrilled about the life he had and the future they envisioned together. Yet, he was also fearful—concerned for Harald's safety and the security of the kingdom.

His aunt remained uncaptured, and they lacked any solid answers as to why she had attempted to kill him. Something felt off, something crucial that they had overlooked, but he couldn't pinpoint what it was. Harald observed him intently for a while before gently placing the cat and the book on the floor and moving closer. He positioned himself with his legs on either side of Loki, finally capturing the attention of the dark-haired man.

"what are you doing?"

"looking at you."

"Noo... really?" Loki said with an amused expression, as if he wasn't already aware. "By all means, continue."

Harald snorted and rolled his eyes at his lover's antics, but he concentrated again and stared at him the whole time.

‘talk to me’

Loki blinked and looked down at his little lover, he had heard his voice, but his lips had not moved. He opened his mouth in surprise, "What? how did you…"

Harald's smile grew, and he put on the other half of his magical core again, success! so now that he knew how it felt, he could concentrate and send over another thought.

This way, talk to me, and do not even try to lie or avoid answering my question.

Loki's mouth twitched, "I have no idea what you're implying."

"yeah, and I'm a pink bilgesnipe, now try and talk to me, in that big head of yours" Harald replied loudly, and poked at him, "try to answer me in the same way, idiot. With magic"

Loki shook his head in amusement and sat down so that he sat directly opposite him and stared intensely at his little light. Viridian eyes meeting jade. He concentrated on the interconnected feeling of magic and put his thoughts back.

‘Just scattering thoughts,’ Loki said, embracing the sensation of the new magic as it enveloped his core. He allowed the feeling to saturate him while subtly probing Harald's emotions.

‘...And a little worried,’ Harald admitted, meeting Loki's gaze with defiance, anticipating a challenge. Yet, he smiled as they both started to grasp how a small aspect of their connection functioned.

‘And a little worried,’ Loki agreed a little reluctantly; he would never say it out loud. But to Harald..... to him, he could show a more insecure side of himself.

‘Is there anything you can do about it?’

‘That depends’

Harald snorted, "so, a no then" He released the mental connection, so he felt how it pulsated too hard in the temple.

Loki sighed heavily but did not deny his words. Even though he knew this, he could not help his anxiety. It was always there, biting, gnawing feeling that tore at his insides. The feeling that came from seeing him dying in front of him, blood flowing out where it should not be.

The emotion of his uneven pulse and the feeling of his heart struggling almost stopped beating. Harald suddenly jumped up from the window and turned around, waiting for him. He did not like the feeling of sneakingness over their connection.

"what are you doing?" Loki asked with a frown

"getting up."

"I can see that. Why are you getting up?"

"We are going to the training ground."

Loki blinked slowly, "No ... we not"

Harald studies him for a moment and then shrugged, "then I'm going without you."

Loki stiffened and was quickly up and in his way, almost growing as he stared down at the smaller male, "no, you have not nearly healed enough from the whole ordeal; you are not going to train, magic or anything else."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Look, you can either go with me or get out of my way Loki. I'm not going to bulge, and I'm not made of glass" He knew he was pushing a little hard, but he needed slap Loki out of that mood he was digging himself in. He could feel the darkness inside of him, feasting on his fears.

That can be debatable, Loki thought as his lips straightened out, "No."

Stubborn ass of a horse, Harald stared at him before he took a deep breath. “Then let us have some fun with Thor; I believe that both he and you require a good fight. He has asked to go up against the two of us. Claiming that he can beat us both at the same time.”He raised a defiant eyebrow. He could already see how it sparkled in Lokis eyes at the challenge

“Oh, has he now? then, by all means, I fight him, and you can be my support, but nothing else.”

Okay, the training did not go as Harald had planned. But for the moment, he took what he could. In any case, he got what he wanted, and it should be fun. And it had been enjoyable, right up until Thor lost his temper and accidentally put too much force into one of his attacks. Harald had reacted instinctively in response. Thankfully, it didn't end too badly.

"I'm…" Thor began to apologize.

"No, do not."

"But .."

"-app."

"now see…

"- app, app."

"Harald-"

"I said don't," Harald said and grinned slightly "besides, it is I who should apologize ."

Thor shifted and looked over to a fuming Loki, and nervously back to the smaller man "... it wasn't too bad?"

"I sent you flying two fields over and crash landing in the weapon racks; if that's not bad, I do not know what is.” Harald snorted,” We were only going to play a little bit, not hurt each other"

"Do not flatter yourself, I could have stopped the attack any time, and it was my fault, to begin with," Thor boosted as he puffed out his chest, never going to admit that, nope, never.

Harald chuckled, "But it sort of was? The shield was designed to reflect the blow with twice the force it received. But listen, Thor, just because you're big and strong doesn't mean you're automatically suited to lead," Harald advised his future brother-in-law. "You're perfect for protecting the realm, sure, but you need to start thinking, evaluate your surroundings, and avoid pushing things if you don't recognize the danger. Next time, you might not be so lucky, and the last thing we need is a deceased crown prince." Harald himself was in line for the throne of his realm, while Loki had no interest in assuming that role, claiming it would consume too much of his time.

Thor gave him a slightly puzzled look and shrugged. He didn’t dwell on thoughts about war and battles; his strength was his mainstay, as you couldn't win a battle if you hesitated or paused to think. The enemy needed to understand that challenging Asgard meant certain destruction.

Harald glanced over at Loki, who sighed and put a hand on his face. It seemed unlikely that they would penetrate Thor's stubborn mindset anytime soon, but they had the time to do it. Harald promised himself he would help Loki shape Thor into one of Asgard's greatest kings.

As they walked back to the palace, Harald couldn't help but wonder about what he had just said to Thor. He knew that his words may have seemed harsh, but he truly believed in them. Being the leader of a realm meant more than just physical strength and bravery; it required intelligence, quick thinking, and strategic planning.

He hoped that Thor would take his advice to heart and try to become a more well-rounded warrior. The future of Asgard rested on his shoulders, after all.

Back at the palace, Loki was still fuming over what had just happened. He couldn't believe that Thor had lost control like that, even if it was an accident. Loki prided himself on being in control at all times, and seeing someone so easily lose their composure irritated him.

But he also knew that Harald was right. Thor needed guidance if he wanted to be a successful king. And who better to teach him than Harald? Loki trusted his mate.

The three of them sat down for dinner together, and despite the tension from earlier, they managed to have a pleasant meal. Harald shared stories from his past battles and gave insight into how he approached different situations.

Thor listened intently, taking mental notes as he ate. He could see why Harald was held in such high regard among his people; not only was he skilled in combat, but also wise beyond his years.

By the end of the evening, Thor felt inspired. He made a promise to himself to start thinking before acting and to learn from Harald's teachings. He realized that being a great king required more than just brute force; it required wisdom and strategy as well.

Loki couldn't help but smile as he saw the change in Thor's demeanor. Perhaps there was hope for him yet.

Chapter Text

Harry looked over at Hermione as she was in her researching mood; without her, they would have gotten as far as they had. But why did it feel like there was something that was starting to shift in between them? And not only her, but the feeling was even towering on Ron also.

It felt unusual, not exactly sad, just a sense of separation, or perhaps it was a fresh perspective on the world? Harry couldn't figure it out, but since his creature heritage had emerged, he had transformed both physically and mentally. He was still as much Harry, yet he was also becoming Harald. Was this detachment truly his own feeling?

Harry gazed at the empty sheet in front of him, unable to dismiss the nagging sensation that they were completely off track. So far, they had only managed to get through a small fraction of the books available to them, and that was after splitting the task into three parts. A sharp pain surged through Harry, causing him to wince as it spread across his chest. It wasn't particularly harmful, just uncomfortable, like someone pounding on a window with all their might without actually breaking it.

The last memory was not precisely any help, although he felt the warm fuzzy feeling hugging him as he remembered the peaceful days. Honestly, he had loved them; that had been a core memory of his family. Harry closed his eyes. Was the answer really in his memories? Why was it precisely these memories that he re-experienced as strongest? Was it because of Harald's feelings? That it was somehow connected to important events for him, and if so, why could he not remember the rest? Some parts were there but not all, absolutely not. Harry tried to step out of his subjective role as a spectator of memories and examine them more objectively.

He was the master of death, the other half of chaos, the one who created the balance between the two of them. He had magical creature blood in his veins, which leads to a massive increase in his magical ability. He can feel energies, sense people where they are and if they pretend to be a threat. Loki was the more violent of them both, but that did not mean that Harald was the weak one, rather the opposite; he could see reason and use his strength to the full. They had a strong connection with each other, a deep love, a need. It always came back to that; they need each other to balance: like Yin and yang, light and darkness, death and creation.

Harry slowly opened his eyes as he stared down at the wooden table. He had somehow died and left Loki out of balance. But he had avided it that time? right?. Honestly, Harry could not see Harald ever willingly accept death, he would never give up on Loki, not with the love he was feeling. Harry swore low and clenched his fist so hard that his knuckles turned white in protest of the action.

"the answer is not in the books" Harry put the book together hard; the sound echoed in the otherwise quiet room.

"It must be here somewhere, Harry, do not give up," Hermione called softly from her corner, she felt the same, but there must be something somewhere.

Harry shook his head "if it were true, we would have found it already. I have my soul mark, which means Loki is in our time. He is a god, so his lifespan is different than our" he started walking the floor, the wings fluctuating behind him in with each step he took. "we can assume that it has been several years, even centuries since the memories took place, so we have to figure out why now? what have changes, or what will happen? "

"What do you want us to do then?" Ron asked wearily; he was clearly in favor of another method than reading in old dusty books. "We have no leads or anything."

"Something is going on," Harry stopped. "I feel it, do not ask me how, but this feeling," he grabbed the front of the shirt and hugged it hard, his heartbeat thundered in his ears. "I think I have to remember how Harald died the last time to know what was going on."

"How do you plan to achieve that? Until now, the visions have appeared sporadically and without any specific sequence or connection to what you've been doing," Hermione said as she approached them, still holding her books.

She was right, and Harry was painfully aware of it. He gnawed at his thumbnail, eyes fixed on the vibrant window, while the feeling enveloped him like an oppressive shroud. It was suffocating and comforting all at once. The sensation coiled around his chest like a serpent, and he shut his eyes, releasing a slow breath. He wanted to banish the feeling as he had done before, yet now he allowed it to envelop him. The cold, dark sensation caressed him, and though part of him resisted, another part hesitantly welcomed it.

The sensation of death coursed through him, and he gently swept his hand through the unseen energy, trying to grasp it. It felt as though the solution was just within reach, yet no matter how much he strained, he couldn’t seize it. It was beyond him. Harry slowly opened his eyes, and the world around him seemed to glow with a golden hue. He glanced at his hands and noticed his veins glowing softly in that same golden color. With each heartbeat, shimmering gold particles flowed through his veins. When he looked at his two companions, he saw the same phenomenon, except their veins pulsed with a silver hue.

“Huh,” this was new, he stopped in his pacing and stared.

Ron looked up when Harry had just stopped, and his eyes widened in sheer surprise. "Bloody hell, mate, you are doing it again," his friend breathed out in amazement and slowly got up from the armchair.

Harry could feel the magic embrace him, and he let it do so; his wings suddenly melted into his back more and more with each deep breath he took, and he hugged his fists before relaxed. Felt how the muscles responded accordingly. His hair had waves of the same energy as his veins, and he could feel the manor exhaling, which was weird. Could a house breathe a sigh of relief? A piece of the puzzle fell into place, and he lifted his gaze.

"I know what I have to do,"

Harry went to the window, sat down with his legs crossed, and his hands resting on his knees. He did not wait for their answer. He had waited long enough already; he needed to find Loki. He exhaled and let his energy and magic flow out of him in soft waves, and he just let his mind open, and he touched his magical core and let the trance grab him as he entered the stage of meditation within seconds.

.⬝:*¨¨*:⬝.💓.⬝:*¨¨*:⬝.☯.⬝:*¨¨*:⬝.💓.⬝:*¨¨*:⬝.

As the sun started to set, and the moon began to rise, it was time.

The symbol of the two celestial bodies represented the joining of the two lovers. The tables were covered with light grass green colors with the most exclusive glass vases with giant yellow peony and forget-me-nots in them. The air was rich with the fresh scent of the mild floral perfumes as it lays like a soft blanket over all of the guests as they all looked up at the altar where the All-Father stood behind the bonding couple.

"We are here today to join these two souls together as one." Odin's massive voice echoed through the hall, and you could feel the energy and excitement fill the room. "Do you Prince Loki Odinsson and Prince Harald Freyrson join us here out of your own free will, to acknowledge the eternal bond shared between you?"

"Yes, we do," Loki and Harald echoed at the same time, their hands clasped in front of them. Their eyes just saw each other.

"Let's hear your vows."

Loki went first and smiled down at his smaller partner and hugged his hand a little harder than before.

"Harald Freyrson, I had loved you from the beginning of time, before the stars were born, and I will love you until the last light is gone from the universe. Of all the people I have met in my life, you became my guiding star, my light in the darkness and the one I ran to. You have shown me a love so deep I never thought was possible. You make me so happy that I even forget to breathe. You make life worth living, and I know that I want. I want to stand by your side for the rest of my life.”

Harald swallowed hard and tried to hold back his feelings, but his eyes burned with tears that wanted to fall. He took a deep breath before exhaling with a smile on his face.

"I did not fall in love with you, Loki Odinson. I walked into love with you, with my eyes wide open; I chose to take every step along the way. I believe in both fate and destiny, but I also believe that we are fated to do the things we choose to do. And I'd choose you; In a hundred lifetimes, In a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I find you, and I'd choose you. Theas hand of mine will be yours; I will be your best friend, your lover, and your guiding light. I will cherish you through the years yet to come. These are the hands that will wipe the tears from your eyes- tears of sorrow and tears of joy. And theas hand will give you strength when you need it. With these hands, I will Lift your sorrows, I will light your way in the darkness, and I will always stand by your side.”

Throughout his promise, Harald did not let go of Loki's gaze, he could see all of his feelings reflected in his eyes, and he felt them over their deep connection. The love he felt was so heavy, so wonderfully, and he hugged Loki's hands tightly so as not to let the euphoric feeling knock him out completely. His head spun, and each breath created a wave of electricity through both of their bodies; it was quite literary electrifying

The handfasting ceremony is a symbolic ritual in the eternal; it joined two people in love. It is a sacred ceremony of commitment. A long band was carried to Odin, who picked it up with extreme caution. The ribbon was in a dark green color, a symbol for both Loki and Harald. The edges were adorned with gold and along the ribbon were several marks wrapped around each other in a beautiful pattern. Odin began to wrap their hands together while letting elemental magic weave into the threads, blessing their marriage as he did so. The handfast ceremony was an ancient and appreciated pagan ritual. It is a symbolic union of a married couple tying the knot together.

“I take your hands in mine, and with this string, I will entwine your powers I'll forever bind. From now until the end of time,” Odin tied the ribbon around their hands

Odin was the royal regent of all the nine realms; he was the high priest and the judgments e. This was his duty, and he did so with pleasure as he looked down at the two young men before him. It warmed his old heart, perhaps the prophecy had been wrong all along, and it had not spoken of Loki. Maybe he was not the one to bring forth the Ragnarök. With Harald by his side, they would create a new era of their own, and he was confident that the smaller male would protect his son from whatever to come.

“Here before witnesses, Loki and Harald have sworn their vows to each other. With this cord, I bind them to their vows. However, these binds are not tied so that neither partner is restricted by the other. The only true enforcement of love is the will to love.”

And the people broke out in applause and shouts of happiness when the two newly married kissed and concluded the covenant with which they were blessed.

As the sun finally dipped below the horizon, the bond was formed between two souls, and the celebration was in full action.

Harald rubbed the back of his neck as the stiffness started to make itself known. Loki let a hand fall on the aching place and, with skilled fingers, began to press and massage the annoying muscles in his neck. Harald had to hold back a moan of pleasure as his husband's skillful fingers found the knot and started to untangle it. He was thrilled that this whole thing was now over, and he would be even happier when everyone finally let them go so that they could enjoy their wedding night.

Now he just needed to persuade Loki that it was an excellent decision to go against the traditions. He could not sit here for another 2 hours and wait like on needles before he could finally consummate their bond. He let his magic leak out of him, licking up against Loki's skin and arm, taunting him, challenging his will.

"Careful love, we're in public," Loki chuckled low beside him and sent an impulse from his hands and pressed lightly on the sensitive nerve endings in Harald's spine.

Harald held back a moan but failed, and a low sound escaped him, and he quickly covered it with as snorting sound. "No way, it's our wedding; I say we cut it short."

" Rebellious, are we?" Loki let his long nimble fingers caress under his silky black hair and smiled mischievously when he felt the smaller man shudder under his touch.

"You should know" Harald stroked his closest hand to the outside of Lokis thigh

Loki's pupils got more prominent from the lust that simmered through him, and he looked down at his minx, who smiled sweetly at him, "Stop it."

"Make me," Harald challenged, and the smile grew into a grin, the people around them wholly forgotten.

"Harald"

“Loki…”

Loki shook his head with a smile on his lip "stop, or I just might throw you over my shoulder and escape from this boring event," And what a sight it would be. It was a behavior he expected his dear brother to do. Not him.

"Why do you not do that then, dear husband?" Harald smiled innocently at him, eyes twinkling; it did not sound so bad in his ears

"Because our mothers would kill us?" Loki hummed as his magic pushed back at Harald, answering its calling, mingling together as they did that. He did not joke about their mothers, it was two very fierce women, and they were hard on tradition.

Harald raised his hand and caught one of the longer strands of hair that lay around Loki's shoulders and spun it around his fingers. “Or we can silently slip away under one of your illusion; you are quite good at making them.”

Loki's hand stopped at what he was doing and stared down at Harald. Why had he not thought of that? A wolfish grin emerged on his face, and he chuckled darkly and tilted his head so that he could kiss the inside of Harald's wrist.

"I am, ain't I?"

Harald smiled victoriously and glanced at the guests laughing and dancing around them. Thor's booming laughter was heard in the crowd, and many toasted and drank to their honor. Harald had always been impressed with Asgradia n 's ability to drink; they took every opportunity to party and celebrate. The room was warm and well lit, and he remembered the first time he stepped through the large doors and met his fate. The day he met Loki again for the first time in several years. They had both developed so much from the young people they had once been, but at the same time, they were precisely the same as they had been. Before Harald could understand what exactly was happening, he felt a tingling sensation sweep over his body. As if someone decided to pour ice-cold water over his head.

Loki dragged him back and into the shadows created by the massive red draperies. Harald could now see a perfect illusion in front of them, they were still sitting close to each other and whispering, and the next test came when some guests came up to talk to them. Harald held his breath, but when that interaction went as planned, he felt that this could work, and he sent amused feelings over their connection. He lives they feel ashamed of fooling them all like this, but he did not, none of them feel any shame. On the contrary, it was exciting to see how easy it was to dodge without anyone realizing what was happening. Of course, the god of mischief needed a mate that had a fun streak inside of him as well.

"Come, my little minx," Loki whispered, his voice low and dark as he dragged him away from the rest of the guests.

A shiver seeped through Harald's body as he quietly followed him. He would surely follow Loki to the end of the world if he so asked him to. But this was their night. They had been intimate with each other before; they felt and given pleasure to each other with both hands and their mouths, but nothing more. Or maybe more with magic, but it was not the same thing. This evening was unique; on the seventh day of the seventh month in the seventh hour, they made their vowes. It was a magical day that suited them perfectly.

Loki gave him an amused glance before they were suddenly teleported from the shadows into their chambers. Their very own wing in the palace until their home was built. But they were not in a hurry, and besides, Loki had his princely duties which he needed to carry out. But none of that mattered now; the only thing that mattered was the other person's warm body that was close.

Loki stood entirely still, his arms around his waist, and Harald felt the dexterous fingers caress his trousers' waistband. Playful and courteous. His eyes were wholly fixed on him, and Harald could feel how his gaze burned pleasantly over his skin when he let it sweep over him.

His head was slightly bent back while he looked up at Loki, who was a full head taller than him. Loki gently had his fingers plucked from the hair ornaments that adorned it during the ceremony and let them fall to the ground. Harald's long black hair fell free, and he pulled his fingers through it.

"If we do this, there is no going back."

"I know," Harald replied and took his hand in his and kissed his knuckles; he was ready.

Slowly, Loki started to disrobe him. The long fingers slowly untied the knots that held his ceremonial tunic in place and let them teasingly caress the light skin underneath.

"No magic?" Harald asked in a thick voice. He stood completely still and let Loki's fingers painfully slowly work its way through the knots.

“No”

Loki gently parted the tunic, and Harald allowed it to drop from his body as Loki's fingers traced a path along his skin. They both understood why magic wasn't used in moments like these. They wanted to savor every delicate touch they could share. Harald absorbed the caresses eagerly, like a parched sponge. Loki's fingers hinted at the pleasure to come, and just the thought that this was merely the start made Harald feel his trousers grow a bit too snug.

But he did not intend to let Loki be the only one to have fun. He unbuttoned Loki's cloak and dropped it around their feet in a hard thump. He put his hands under the green tunic and caressed the skin under them, hard and warm. He enjoyed the slender figure of his mate as his finger sank into the warm flesh and never broke away from his intense gaze.

He felt Loki fumbling with the metal that kept the lower half of his dress in place. The soft sound of claps unhooking filled the silence between them until nothing held up his clothes, and they fell heavy down on the ground. Pooling into a crumpled circle around their feet.

Loki let his hand caress his cheek, and Harald grabbed it and hugged his hand hard before Loki's lips pressed against his own in a soft kiss. The tingling of magic quickly weaving into his body, Harald groaned as he felt how his legs almost gave out. If it had not been for Loki's arms, he would have fallen to the ground. He felt Loki chuckled on his lips.

"I know I'm good, but this is a new record of making you fall for me."

Harald swatted his arm with a hot blush burning over his cheeks, "Do not inflate your ego more than it already is."

Loki chuckled as he lifted Harald into his arms, disregarding his objections. He carried him over to the bed prepared for them. The green-blue silk blanket gently brushed against Harald's back as he gazed up at Loki towering over him.

"You love my ego, admit it," Loki teased, lowering his head to gently assault his mate's delicate, pale throat. He savored the slightly salty skin and felt the pulse quicken beneath his lips as he lightly nibbled on it with his teeth.

Harald let out a gentle moan and leaned his head back, allowing more of his skin to be exposed. "I have no idea what you mean," he said.

"Oh, but I believe you do, my light," Loki replied, twirling around and covering his face with delicate kisses.

"Not at all," Harald panted as Loki's lips traced a path down his neck once more, sending a delightful shiver through him. He buried his hands in Loki's lush hair, feeling Loki's hand glide along his side. Harald's fingers danced over the muscles beneath, and he noticed Loki's breath catch.

"Lies"

Harald chuckled. "Wouldn't you be the expert on that, oh mighty god of lies.”

"Indeed," Loki bit down more firmly on his collarbone, causing Harald to moan, "to master the art of lying as I do, I must first know the truth, correct?"

“True” Harald sighted

“There you go.”

Loki shifted downward across his smaller partner's chest, his mouth finding one of Harald's sensitive nipples, eliciting a moan of pure pleasure. Not stopping there, Loki continued to tease the exposed nipple with one hand while his mouth traveled further down to Harald's smooth belly, planting kisses and gentle nips along the sensitive skin. His hand glided over the soft skin, down to Harald's thigh, where he lightly brushed feathers against his crotch, deliberately avoiding his already rock-hard erection.

"So impatient," Loki hummed but did not give in to the sweet sounds that spread from his mates' lips and his hips that pressed forward.

Harald’s breath hitched as he lay sprawled beneath Loki, his body a canvas of heat and trembling need. His skin, flushed a deep, feverish crimson, gleamed with a thin sheen of sweat that trailed down the hard planes of his chest, catching the light like liquid desire. Every inch of him was alive with sensation, from the goosebumps that prickled his skin to the way his cock throbbed, heavy and insistent, against the tight confines of his trousers.

Loki’s hand was a brand on his chest, the god’s fingers calloused and wicked as they toyed with Harald’s nipples, pinching and twisting until Haralds back arched off the bed, a low, guttural moan tearing from his throat.

“Fuck,” Harald gasped, his voice raw and broken as his hips bucked involuntarily, seeking friction, seeking release.

Loki’s smirk was a knife’s edge, sharp and knowing, as he leaned in close enough for Harald to feel the hot puff of his breath against his lips. “Enjoying yourself, little one?” Loki purred, the words dripping with dark, molten promise. His eyes, bright and predatory, locked onto Harald’s, and the mortal felt a shiver race down his spine, pooling low in his gut like liquid fire.

Harald tried to speak, tried to form some kind of retort, but all that escaped him was a choked whimper as Loki’s hand slid lower, fingers trailing over the sensitive skin of his inner thigh before slipping beneath them. The god’s touch was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure through Harald’s body as Loki cupped his aching cock, giving it a slow, deliberate squeeze that had Harald’s vision blurring at the edges.

“Gods,” Harald moaned, his head falling back as Loki’s fingers began to stroke him, slow and teasing, each movement a torturous caress that left him gasping for air. “Loki, please—”

“Please what?” Loki interrupted, his voice a low growl that sent a fresh wave of heat crashing through Harald’s veins. “Use your words, little one. Tell me what you want.”

Harald’s lips parted, but before he could speak, Loki’s free hand slipped lower, fingers brushing against the sensitive cleft of his ass. The fae’s breath caught in his throat as Loki’s finger pressed against his entrance, teasing the tight ring of muscle with a wicked precision that left Harald trembling.

“Oh by the norns,” Harald choked out, his hips jerking as Loki’s finger breached him, slow and deliberate, sending a jolt of pleasure-pain shooting up his spine. “Loki—!”

The god’s lips curved into a smirk as he began to move his finger, in and out, twisting and curling in search of that sweet spot that had Harald seeing stars. When he found it, Harald’s body jerked like he’d been struck by lightning, a strangled cry tearing from his throat as pleasure exploded through him in white-hot waves.

“There it is,” Loki murmured, his voice dark with satisfaction as he pressed relentlessly against that spot, each thrust of his finger sending Harald spiraling higher and higher. “You’re so tight, little one. I can feel how badly you want this.”

Harald’s hands clawed at the sheets, desperate for something to hold onto as Loki’s finger dowe in and out of him with a steady rhythm that had him panting and moaning. His cock was leaking, precum soaking the front of his stomache as Loki’s other hand continued to stroke him, teasing him closer and closer to the edge.

“Come for me,” Loki commanded, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down Harald’s spine. “I want to see you fall apart.”

And Harald did. With a cry that echoed through the room, he came hard, his body convulsing as pleasure ripped through him in blinding waves. Loki’s fingers never stopped moving, milking every last drop of cum from him until he was trembling and spent, his body limp and boneless against the bed.

Loki leaned in close, his lips brushing against Harald’s ear as he whispered, “Good boy.”

The words sent a fresh shiver through Harald’s body, and he knew this was only the beginning. Loki wasn’t done with him yet. Not even close.

Loki let his fingers touch the same place again, and Harald's body bent up slightly, a soft moan escaping his lips. His hands gripped at the sheets beneath him as pleasure coursed through his veins, making his entire body tingle with sensation.

As Loki continued to scissor his fingers inside him, Harald arched his back, wordlessly begging for more. He couldn't remember ever feeling this good before, like every nerve in his body was on fire and it was all thanks to this god who held so much power over him.

Loki watched as Harald became a bubbly mess of pleasure beneath him, panting and moaning as he sought out every ounce of pleasure that Loki could give him. But the god wasn't done yet. He wanted to see just how far he could push his little light before he broke under the weight of desire.

With a wicked grin on his lips, Loki added a third finger inside Harald's tight entrance, watching as the younger man gasped and squirmed beneath him. The stretch was bordering on painful now, but Harald didn't seem to mind. He was too lost in the throes of ecstasy to care about anything else but this moment.

Loki repeated the same action as before, pressing against Harald's prostate with each thrust of his fingers until the younger man was trembling with pleasure and sweet pain. He couldn't help but feel pride swell within him at how good he was making Harald feel.

But that wasn't enough for Loki. He wanted more. And he knew just what would send Harald over the edge.

Removing his fingers from inside Harald's quivering body, Loki leaned in close once again. His lips brushed against the shell of Harald's ear as he whispered,"tell me what you need, my little star."

Harald couldn't think straight as he lay there beneath Loki, his body still trembling with pleasure. The god's words echoed in his mind, sending jolts of electricity through his veins. He wanted to give in to the desires burning within him, to be completely consumed by this dark and alluring being.

"Loki, please..." Harald begged as he raised a trembling hand and entwined them into Loki's mane of hair, holding on to it desperately. Like if he let go, he would fall through the floor.

"Tell me," forest green eyes met viridian as he stared down at his small lover. "Tell me, and I will give it to you." His heartbeat picked up speed at the gorgeous male in front of him, and remembered that he was his, his to touch, his to cherish, and his to love. His skin was hot to the touch, soft and crackling with magic.

Harald swallowed hard as he looked up at Loki, unable to resist the pull that the god had over him. He knew what he needed - what he craved - but a part of him was still afraid to ask for it. To reveal such a deep desire would make him vulnerable, but with Loki, it also felt safe.

"I...I want you..." Harald finally whispered out, his heart racing as he spoke those words aloud.

Loki's lips curled into a predatory smile as he leaned down towards Harald's ear once again. "You have me," he murmured hotly against the younger man's skin before trailing kisses down his neck.

Harald moaned softly at the sensation of Loki's lips against his sensitive skin, arching up against him in desperation. He wanted more - so much more - and Loki seemed more than eager to give it to him.

Drawing out a mewing sound from Harald, “Loki-…. Loki, please… Don't teas, or I will make you suffer tenfold.”

Harald felt the warm air tickling his neck as Loki chuckled and kissed his collarbone, leaving a red mark as he did. “Always so demanding, my love,”

“You have no idea!” Harald breathed hard. “Now get going, or your ass will be mine.”

Loki could not hold back a delighted laugh. His little one could be such a beast; no one would believe him if anyone knew how dominant and ordering Harald could be when he wanted something, And Loki loved every second of it.

“As you wich, my love,” Loki took hold of his husband's beautiful long hair and made him tilt back his head slightly, giving him the chance to place a kiss on the nape of his neck that was blotted before him.

Harald's breath hitched in his throat as he felt Loki slowly push himself into his slick entrance. He choked on a moan, his eyes squeezing shut as he gripped the sheets beneath him. He could feel every inch of Loki, every ridge and bump of his arousal as it stretched him wide. He could feel the burn, the slight pain, but it was nothing compared to the pleasure that coursed through him.

Loki grunted and stilled once he was balls deep inside Harald, giving his husband a chance to get used to the feeling of him. He leaned down to place gentle kisses along Harald's jawline and neck, whispering words of love and adoration against his skin.

Harald opened his eyes, tears glistening at the corners as he stared up at Loki with unbridled love and desire. He couldn't believe that this gorgeous god was all his, that they were joined together in such an intimate way for the first time.

Loki kissed away a stray tear that Harald hadn't even noticed fallen from his eyes before pulling back slightly to look down at his husband with a soft smile. "You are so beautiful," he whispered before starting a slow roll of his hips.

Harald moaned loudly, arching up into Loki as waves of pleasure washed over him. His body trembled beneath Loki's touch, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through him.

Loki continued to move slowly but deliberately, making sure Harald was fully adjusted to him before picking up pace. With each thrust, he hit spots within Harald that made him gasp and cry out in ecstasy.

Their movements became more frantic as they approached their peak together. The sound that escaped from Harald's lips was a rumbling mess - equal parts pleasure and need - as he held onto Loki tightly.

No longer able to resist, Loki increased the tempo, causing Harald to cry out in newfound pleasure. With lips parted and eyes shut, Harald was lost in the sensation. He wrapped his arms around Loki's shoulder and pressed his face into his husband's neck, aware that he wouldn't be able to hold on much longer.

Harald's entire body was on fire, electric sparks shooting through him with every movement of Loki's hips. He clung to his husband desperately, lost in the haze of pleasure and magic swirling around them.

Loki's thrusts became more powerful and erratic, a low growl escaping from deep within him. He could feel Harald tightening around him, signaling his own imminent release.

Harald looked into Loki's eyes, completely entranced by the intensity and fire within them. There was something about the magic that seemed to enhance his features, making him even more alluring and powerful.

Loki's hands tightened on Harald's hips as he continued to move inside him, his gaze never leaving his husband's. He could feel the magic pulsing through them both, connecting them in a way he had never experienced before.

"Mine," Loki growled again, his voice thick with desire and possessiveness. "You are mine."

Harald couldn't help but moan at the dominant tone in Loki's voice, feeling completely owned by him in that moment. He wrapped his legs around Loki's waist, pulling him deeper inside as they moved together in perfect rhythm.

It was like their bodies were made for each other. Every thrust sent bolts of pleasure shooting through Harald's body, leaving him gasping and panting for more.

The mist of magic surrounding them only seemed to intensify with each passing moment. It was almost suffocating in its intensity but also exhilarating at the same time. Harald felt like he was being consumed by it, consumed by Loki.

As if sensing his thoughts, Loki leaned down to capture Harald's lips in a passionate kiss. It was like fireworks going off within Harald as their tongues danced together, matching the movements of their bodies.

Suddenly a new electric feeling hit Harald, and he could not hold in the loud cries of pleasure as Loki repeatedly started hitting his prostate, again and again at the exact right angle.

The mist of magic felt denser around them, suffocating yet exhilarating at the same time. It was filling them both up, consuming them completely until there was nothing left but each other and this intense connection between them.

Harald's body was wracked with pleasure as he came once again, his release mixing with Loki's inside of him. He could feel the intense connection between them only getting stronger, their magic intertwining and pulsing with each passing moment.

Loki grunted and moaned above him, his thrusts becoming more frantic. Harald could feel each spasm of his husband's body, the way his cock pulsed inside of him, filling him up completely.

Automatically, Harald's passage muscles began to seize, squeezing on Loki and draining every last drop of pleasure from him. He could feel Loki still rocking hard into him, instinctively trying to push his come deeper into him as he possibly could do.

And Harald almost came again as he felt him jerk inside of him, releasing another gush of hot semen deep within him. It made him see stars as their magic exploded around them and inside them both.

They collapsed together in a heap of limbs and magic, panting and trying to catch their breath. For a few moments, they were lost in the euphoria of their lovemaking before reality slowly started to seep back in.

Harald opened his eyes to find himself still cradled in Loki's arms. The magical mist had dissipated now but the intensity between them was still palpable. He smiled lazily at Loki who returned it with a soft kiss on his forehead.

"I love you," Harald whispered, feeling overwhelmed by all that had just happened between them.

Loki smiled down at him, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. "And I love you," he replied earnestly before leaning down for another kiss.

As they lay together in quiet bliss, Harald couldn't help but feel like this was just the beginning of something incredible between them. And with Loki's love and magic surrounding them both, he knew they could conquer anything that came their way.

Loki's whole body was now firmly pressed against him, skin to skin, soaking up the sweat and residue magic, and there were black spots that invaded his vision and mind for a second as he felt it all connect.

His arm and back felt like they were on fire. He must have blacked out briefly because when he regained his senses, he found Loki planting soft and warm kisses along his shoulder and up his tender, marked neck. He knew there would be plenty of marks, but he didn't mind. Loki then gently lay down beside him, withdrawing with a wet sound, leaving him with an unsettling emptiness as if something vital was suddenly missing. Harald felt Loki's strong, protective arms pull him closer to his chest. He snuggled into Loki, seeking the warmth and safety that only Loki could provide.

"Look," Loki said softly, his voice filled with love and awe as he displayed Harald's mark. All the flowers had fully blossomed, reaching up to his shoulder, and he could sense without seeing that they extended across his back. Similarly, Loki's mark had mirrored this growth. Forget-me-nots and golden peonies adorned nearly every inch of their skin on thair right side, making Harald gasp as the magic within them harmonized.

Loki chuckled and nuzzled his neck. “I love the thought that we are made for each other”

Harald chuckled softly as his fingers traced the floral design on his husband's arm. This large, vibrant soul mark was quite rare; it symbolized power and demonstrated the perfect connection between them. It was a testament to their love. Everything about them was... complementary, a feeling his overwhelmed mind couldn't quite imagine at that moment. He felt reassured knowing that nothing could ever come between them. They were bound together for eternity, in this life or the next, no matter what.

‘I love you’

He sensed Loki's lips pressing gently against his head while Loki softly stroked his back. The magical resonance they shared was now an enduring part of him, as if nothing could sever the new bond they had forged. He looked forward to exploring this newfound connection.

‘Love you too my, little starlight’

Harald could even feel Loki’s heartbeat next to his, a phantom pulse mirroring his own with perfect synchrony. It was as if they had transcended their separate beings and melded into a single entity. The warmth of Loki's body enveloped him like a soft, protective cocoon. As the comforting darkness swept over him, Harald nestled closer into Loki’s embrace, surrendering to the soothing cadence of their united heartbeats as he drifted into a peaceful slumber.

Chapter Text

For a second, Harry was unable even to muster the energy to even move a single muscle. Slowly he opened his eyes and looked down at his hands in his lap, where he had put them before sinking into his meditative stage. He moved his fingers a little, stiff, and slowly he clenching his fists as hard as possible before relaxing them.

The meditation had worked precisely as he had hoped; it had even performed better than he could have guessed it would. It felt as if all the memories were closer than before, like the wall that held them had broken and slowly started to leak.

Harry exhaled slowly and felt how his body was unnaturally cold, and his magic core felt more tender than before. He put a hand over his heart and felt how fast it was beating; he leaned forward a little when the stinging feeling grabbed him.

It was almost painful to think about the memories. To think about what had happened, and to feel the love Harald had for the black-haired trickster prince. The feeling was now invading Harry as a sled hammer. How was it even possible to love someone he had not even met? Not in this lifetime anyway, and even if he found Loki, there was no guarantee whatsoever that he still felt the same for him.

….Give up….

Harry froze as the words seemed to gently brush against his maind. The voice was so faint that he would have missed it entirely if not for the silence around him. He remained perfectly still, hoping for more, but nothing followed. Perhaps he had imagined it? The voice wasn't his own, nor did it belong to Harald. Yet he didn't dare hope it was Loki trying to contact him, as that seemed like mere wishful thinking. Moreover, whenever Harry attempted to grasp the sensation, it slipped away, much like trying to hold onto water that flows through his fingers.

Harry was now quite sure that this unnatural icy cold feeling had something to do with Loki. There was no other explanation. But the words that whispered through his soul was been new, something he had not experienced in this body, and something that made him feel uncomfortable. It had almost been forced, and he did not like what the feeling conveyed.

Harry felt a tickling sensation at the bottom of his cheek and down his throat, which made him blink in surprise. When had his vision become so blurred? he wiped away the tears that had decided to fall on his cheeks, but he could not make the tears stop flowing.

Harry sat there for what felt like hours, trying to make sense of the strange voice and the overwhelming emotions that seemed to be flooding his mind. He couldn't deny that there was a part of him that wanted to give up on finding Loki, to let go of the past and move on with his life. But at the same time, he couldn't ignore the burning desire in his heart to see Loki again, to know if their love could still exist in this lifetime.

He took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. This wasn't the time or place for such emotional turmoil. He needed to focus on finding Loki and uncovering the truth behind their past lives.

Slowly, Harry got up from his spot and stretched his stiff muscles. The sun was starting to set, casting an orange glow over the tree tops.

When Hermione walked back to the library, it was already dark outside. They had been in there for quite some time without eating, mainly just waiting for Harry to wake up. Hermione, insisting they not use a house-elf, had gone to gather the items herself. Ron had chosen to stretch his legs and take a trip to the bathroom, though Hermione suspected he just wanted a brief escape.

None of them had come close to an answer, and although she was reluctant to accept it, she was beginning to acknowledge that the solution might not be buried in any books. Frustration gnawed at her with every fruitless search. How could she not feel torn? Her brother in everything but blood was facing such a harrowing ordeal, and she was powerless, stuck on the sideline, waiting for him to relive his memories. To complicate matters further, he was dealing with a creature heritage, and somewhere in the vast universe, an ancient soul mate existed, but they were utterly clueless about his whereabouts.

Hermione stepped into the lovely and warm library, which was easily her favorite place in the house. Not because of the books, but how it felt safe. She immediately let her gaze fall on the only living soul inside, and he was where they had left him. But what she saw made her heart sink into her stomach. Hermione put down the tray at the nearest table before slowly walking over to him.

Harry did not even look up at her but tried to hold on to the small amount of dignity that he still had. But the icy, empty feeling did not help him, and it almost felt like the temperature around him had dropped as it spared through him. He felt so lost.

“You know,” Hermione carefully stretched out a hand and wiped away a stray tear, “I remember a wise young woman saying that things we lost have a way of coming back to us in the end…. if not always in the way we expect. " Her words were met with a low wet chuckling.

"Do not give up, Harry. We will find him eventually, "

Harry nodded despite her hands and felt the warmth that sped through her touch. Hermione looked down at him for a moment, searching for something, before giving his cold sweaty forehead a light kiss before pulling away.

"Indeed a smart woman" Harry closed his eyes and exhaled choppily.

Hermione smiled. "That she is," she said before getting a more serious expression, "was it a bad memory?"

Harry shook his head, "No, on the contrary," he rubbed his face with both hands to wipe away the last evidence of his tears. It had been one of the best memories he had ever had so far.

"It's stupid, isn't it? " He said and swallowed the lump in this thought, "how you can go your whole life without knowing something that you so desperately needed.... but as soon as you've had it and it's gone, you never be the same again, and you suddenly can't live without it."

Hermione watched him for a moment before she decided not to pressure him for more information on what he meant by it.

"No, It is not stupid, "

She could only guess at the turmoil swirling in his mind and despised the fact that she couldn't do more to assist him with it. She flicked her wand, prompting the teapot to pour tea into two cups. Harry slowly got up from the floor and moved to the table, picking up the first cup and taking a sip of the steaming drink. The warmth spread down his throat, leaving a soothing sensation in its wake. As he exhaled, he felt a sense of relaxation wash over him.

"Thank you. I needed that," Harry said, pulling his finger over the edge of the cup. Feeling the warmth spread throw the edges.

Hermione took her own cup and sipped its sweet contents and nodded contentedly; it was perfect. She let her brown gaze fall on him again and could not help feeling that something had changed. The only question was what it was this time. Harry felt her gaze but decided not to point it out but picked up an apple; he knew what she was thinking without her tell him. He could feel it.

Harry chuckled low without any trace of humor in the sound, "One thing is for sure. My magic had now changed completely."

He looked down at the fruit in his hand and held it up, he let the energy flow through him, and the apple started to rise in the air. And with a precision he did not have before, he cut it into eight perfect pieces. Without saying a word, he angled his hand so that the parts could lie neatly on the plate, just like a bright yellow flower. It almost reminded him of the peonies on his arm.

"It's almost like I now have two different kinds of magic; they are the same but still different," he explained as he picked up an apple piece and put it in his mouth."I know that the new one has to be some kind of ‘creature’ magic, and the other one is what I inherited from my parents; how is that even possible? to have two different sources of magic? ”

"I do not know" Hermione ran a hand lightly through her bushy hair. "I have never heard of that happening before, but then again, what is happening to you is a first for me as well ... can you perhaps explain it better?"

Harry nodded a little uncertainly; he could at least try, but then again, he was not exactly sure how to put words to the feelings. He took up an apple slice and started to chew on it.

"It's as if I have two pairs of glasses on; one view lets me see this... energy all around us," he said, casting his gaze upwards towards the ornate ceiling of the library. The entire mansion was cloaked in a veil of ancient magic, an aura so potent that he could now sense its movement as he extended his awareness towards it. The magic felt tangible, as if the mansion itself were alive, pulsating with a vibrant essence that seemed to push against him in a joyful, melodic hum. The walls whispered secrets of old, and the air shimmered with an unseen vitality, enveloping him in its mystical embrace. "This ... energy is guaranteed to come from the creature magic… "

"... It is probably sedir magic, I believe I read it in Asgardian mythology," interrupted Hermione, and Harry gave her a slightly amused expression. "Sorry... continue, promise I will be silent."

Harry snorted. As if he ever could believe that, but he continued anyway, "... I'm sure, I know that Harald was in tune to nature and the energy everything that was sent out. I believe that it is what I can now sense like my awakening is making my body remember the feeling. I can touch it, see and manipulate it at will. But at the same time, I feel that it…. ” Harry paused in his explanation and frowned.

How could he explain this feeling? As if his magic was not threatening. It was calm, protective, but at the same time, he knew that the energy could explode outwards, like a storm. But the overwhelming feeling was still that it was meant to protect, and he said the same thing out loud.

Hermione made a low humming sound and bit her thumbnail as she wanted to figure something out. Harry could see how the gears in her brain worked to connect the information, and he waved his hand to let her verbally tell him her thoughts.

"Go on, you look like you're about to explode with excitement. Should I find a hiding spot?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, "I am not! You asked me to stay quiet, and I have been."

"Well, now I'm asking you to talk, so go ahead."

"Okay, well I was considering that... maybe... no, it can't be that straightforward... can it?" She moved to a stack of books, running her fingers along their spines until she found the one she wanted and opened it.

.

“What did you find?” Harry asked

"I have been thinking .."

“No surprise there.”

“Oh, hush you. I have thought that there is perhaps more to your connection with Harald than we know. Did you know that the Potters were masters at wards? ”

Harry looked at her in surprise at that, "no... I did not"

“Well, they were. I found several books of different protective wards, spells, and amazing pentagrams. It would probably explain how your mom could save you before she died. Some wards have a heavy price to pay for making, ”Hermione replied, holding her finger along a specific section of the book.

"And according to what you have told me about Harald, his magic is also leaning towards the more defensive side of things, right? and Loki was probably the more offensive in their relationship. Ying to his Yang and all that sorts."

"I can be offensive if I have to," Harry said, almost complaining, and a little bit offended; he had dueled with Voldemort, he could be offensive when he needed it. But then there was that little fact that he indeed had defeated the dark wizard with an expelliarmus spell.

Making the elder wand snap out of Voldermorts hand as his body had slowly returned to ashes. But that didn't count; he had beaten him fair and square. Was a Pratrons also an offensive spell? He had no idea, he could protect himself from a hoard of the dark soul-sucking creature, but it could even kill them.

Harry had to hold back a groan as he started to see a red thread through all his action and use of spells, even if he didn't want to. He had killed several others, he could be aggressive, he could attack as well as defend himself, but he hated to admit it; he was better at defending.

"You think about it too much," Hermione said, closing the book. "Just because you're better at one thing does not mean you're bad at the other."

"I know….still," Harry muttered, letting go of that matter. They had other things to discuss. He closed his eyes before holding out his hand and letting small particles accumulate in his hand and illuminate it. He frowned; even though he could use the energy, it was as if he was still miles away from really mastering it.

But when he tried to shape it into a disk in front of them, it shone in a golden tone before slowly fading out, not doing anything. Hermione looked almost like a child on Christmas at the demostration.

"Alright, the other is our magic," Harry quickly continued where they had broken off before. He fingered his wand, which he had attached to his arm. "I cannot call on it in the same way as the sedir magic; I still have to use my wand,”

"Interesting," Hermione wrote down her notes before taking a sip from the hot drink in front of her, " perhaps there are two different kinds of magic out there? or maybe there is more to it… Maybe we are onto something new here, Harry, perhaps we can... “ Hermione's words subsided from his hearing as he felt a cold caress travel along his neck, and the cold feeling was back. And this time, it felt like someone was squishing his heart as the words spoke more substantial than before.

… ..You… .are… pathetic….

Harry could feel how phantom nails now were pulled down from his neck and along his chest, leaving an unpleasant feeling in its track. Harry gasped for air as it felt like his lungs had stopped working and opened his eyes wide in shock. His hand shot out, just missing the table, as he stumbled to the side. His vision tilting, he tried to grasp the feeling that was shooting throw him. The familiar yet strange feeling of Lokis magic. But it had not been only Loki's voice that spoke, it had been many different voices all in one, but this feeling that was traveling through him, that was Loki.

“Harry? Harry! "Hermione's screaming tore him away from the feeling, and he blinked, puzzled as the feeling slowly disappeared from his chest as he stared unseeing down at the wooden floor.

" Harry? can you hear us? ”

He slowly forced his head to move and saw the anxious face of both his best friends in front of him; he swallowed around the stone that had formed in his throat.

"did… did you hear that?"

Ron groaned as he flipped his head back, "Not this again," he had just come in when Hermione tried to get Harry's attention, and he had some kind of seizure, "I swear Harry, if the manor has a basilisk in the basement, I'm moving out." Han looked over to his friend, " Do... the Potters have a Basilisk? "

Harry laughed low, and his throat strung as he did. The last time he had heard a voice no one else could hear, it had been a gigantic snake. "No, no snake, promise, it was more of a male ... voice."

"Loki's voice?" Hermione asked anxiously. That had not been a fun experience.

“Yes… No… Maybe? I do not know! ” Harry sighed, "At first I thought it was Loki's voice, but the second time I'm certain it was not." But the question was, how had he felt about the connection he shared with Loki? He could feel how his magical core and energy began to fuse every minute that passed after every memory he experienced.

He no longer saw himself as either Harry or Harald, but it was like a tug-of-war inside of him, one fought for the power to drive his mind and body. It was confusing.

….I got you now… ... little seidr ...

Once was chance, twice was a coincidence, but a third time... that was a pattern. The voice this time had been so full of hatred and maliciousness that he almost automatically wanted to throw himself away from the source. Hideaway from the owner of that voice, but he forced himself to stay.

...Your mine now...

Harry put a hand over his heart and felt the cold caressing his insides gather just below his navel. The cold feeling only grew inside him, drawing in his magic like a black hole that sucked up everything around him. And this time, he could feel the pond starting to leak out more and more, blue-tinted energy leaking in with green one.

Loki?… Harry blinked when he pressed his thought and magic against the cold feeling. This was the same feeling he experienced in the memories; he was entirely sure of it. Then it must mean that the voice still belonged to Loki!

Who...NO!... Loki's voice interrupted the other man's, clashing fiercely with his magic. A mix of surprise and horrifying delight washed over him. It was Loki's voice, yet it wasn't; it seemed like multiple voices speaking simultaneously, with the sinister one still present, but Loki's was the strongest. Harry attempted to hold onto the sensation of Loki with urgency.

It felt as if he could start crying with happiness over the familiar feeling while he also wanted nothing else than to shout at him to beware of the danger. It was so confusing.

Where are you? Harry pushed the question over the connection; it almost felt like he was trying to get the words through something thick liquid.

It was hard, and he could not grasp it, but he thought the connection was there but somehow not stable. The link was burning hot, and at the same time, that horrible icy feeling that Harry had started to hate spread through him.

No… WrOnG…. WronG….

Do not touch him! He's mine.....

NEVER….

N-o...h-Ur-t…i-m.

Loki's voice died, and a wall suddenly slammed against Harry. And before he could perceive anything else, a low dark laugh echoed in his mind, and then it also ebbed out. The whole situation had not taken more than a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity, and the emptiness that filled him was… wrong.

For the first time, it felt like time had started to run out on them. Whoever had Loki entailed an indirect danger to them and, in the worst case, Death. A thought struck Harry from nowhere

"I need to talk with Death," as soon as those words left Harry, it felt right. Why had he not been thinking of that before? Why was he only now thinking of Death?

Both Ron and Hermione looked at him in surprise.

“Sorry…. but I believe I heard you wrong.”Ron sat as he rubbed his ear, “ I just thought you said you should talk to Death, but that's completely bonkers, right? right? ” Ron squeaked out as he paled looking at them both doubtfully.

Hermione stared at Harry. "Actually, I believe that it is a good idea."

“ WHAT?" Cried Ron, alarmed "are you out of your god dame mind? "

"Oh, come one, Ron," Hermione rolled her eyes, "Harry is the master of Death; he has all of the hallows. And it is as he said, perhaps we have been looking at the problem in the wrong way all this time, it is worth a shot."

Ron stared at his girlfriend. "Alright, now I know I'm going bonkers; I think I just heard Hermione say we have been wasting time reading a mountain worth of books?"

She raised her head and put her nose in the air. "Knowledge learned is never a bad thing, Ronald; perhaps you should try it more often."

"Yeah, right," he muttered. They did not have to exaggerate.

"Give it a rest, Ron, you never win that argument, " Harry grinned as he walked away from them with a new determination in his steps," you know that"

"And where are you going?" Hermione asked after him

"To meditate again in another room, so that Ron won't blow a gasket when we have a special visitor" Harry grinned as he raised his hand and called for a whole apple as he walked away and smiled when he heard a gruff 'I won't do that' and 'show off' as he held back a grin and left.

The feeling that surrounded him was strange. Harry had never really appreciated the idea that he was the master of Death, and honestly, he had not spoken to Death since the first time he had whispered in his ear after Voldemort's defeat. And even then, he had only said that they would be talking at a later date as it was not a good time right then. Hopefully, this was the right time, but it did not make him any less nervous.

Harry knew that Death is an abstract entity, the pure embodiment of the end of life. The last stop in life, or he used to think that, and then the whole reincarnation thing messed that up for him. It was the Death that loomed in everyone's minds and life. But it was also that Death he was going to try and speak to, hopefully.

Harry knew that sometimes the thoughts about Death went so far that people forgot everything else but this final mystery of the universe. The final aspect of life that they could not understand, that they could not control over. And that scared them, and with that, the fear of Death could grow larger and kept the living from living their life. He had seen it so many times; he had seen it in Voldermorts attempt to trick Death of his rightful claim of his soul.

Harry exhales slowly. He had to let his thoughts go, for now at least.

Meditation had so far been the best solution to his problem, and right now, he needed it to work. He could honestly say that he was starting to feel a little desperate and .. frustrated ... In any case, he needed to find Loki, whatever he was. He emptied his brain of all scattering thoughts and focusing on one thing, and this time it was his will to face Death for the first time in person.

Harry let that feeling spread within him and exhaled; a fly buzzed somewhere in the room, irritated his concentration, but he forced himself to sift it away. And then, slowly, there was some kind of strange charge in the atmosphere around him. He could feel it tickling over his exposed skin, and his soul mark was heating up.

He took a chance and opened his eyes, and blinked to a little surprise. There were dust particles that hung still in the air like someone puched pause, and everything was utterly silent around him. It was a strange feeling; it was as if he had entered a gray zone of some kind. All the lively energy he had been feeling beforehand now had completely stopped.

In front of him stood a tall skeleton cloaked in a vast black cloak with a dark purple inside. The skeleton stood utterly still, and it’s arms hung along the sides, and it did not move. Harry looked closely at the strange cloak that was almost dragging his gaze in; he could have sworn that he saw stars and galaxies swirling around in the fabric.

The skeleton suddenly pulled the fabric tighter around him, and Harry got the feeling that Death was smiling. An embarrassed heat spread over his cheeks as if he had seen something he should not see.

"Hello Harry James Potter, it's an honor to meet you in person. I'm the Avatar of Death" When Death talked, it was like small claps sounded in the room like someone grounded two rocks together, and yet, Harry could understand it just fine. He should not have been surprised, as Death was a skeleton without any vocal cords to speak with.

“The Avatar of Death? Is that what I should call you? ” Harry asked

"Yes and no, you can call me Death, or Ava, as some of my friends call me," the skeleton said, "But that story is perhaps for another time. I do believe that you have other, more pressing questions for me."

Harry blinked slowly at the skeleton's words. It was as if all his thoughts were emptied when he began to meditate. But he was pretty sure this was not the picture he had painted about the deity, a skeleton, right, but he could not place his dialect or his the feeling he got from it that was mostly amusement. But then again, call the deity Ava? Nope, that he would never be comfortable to do.

"I… do have some questions, but first, did you stop time?" Harry looked around again; he hoped that he stopped it because then he could ask everything he needed to know right now. But as the skeleton spoke, he crushed that hope.

“No, Next question.”

Harry stared at the skeleton; he got the feeling that this would not be as easy as he had hoped. It was clear that Death had done something to their surroundings, but Harry could not figure out what it was. Could he learn to do the same? He had never thought about what it meant to be the Master of Death; it was just an unnecessary title he came across. But if he could stop time, perhaps they would have more time to find out what the hell was going on. Death moved before him, and Harry returned to the present.

He cleared his throat lightly, okay, one thing at a time, "Can you tell me why you need a master?"

"Wrong question."

Harry blinked in surprise, " No, I want to know that one."

"What you want is not always what you need," Death stated as he looked at him, and then Harry could hear a mental sigh. He could even feel how Death was a little bit disappointed in the lack of right questions, but still seemed to agree to answer him anyway.

“Because of who I am. As Death, I have infinite power and knowledge, but that can also create an imbalance, so simple enough, I need a master to keep both me and Creation in balance, birth, and rebirth. Chaos and order. Life and Death. Balance. Now next question, we do not have all day, and I can't tell you anything if you don't ask.”

"But you did not even answer my question," Harry complained and struck out with his arm frustrated, which had only gained him more question on the matter.

“Yes, I did.”

Harry bit back another protest before sighing and pressing his fingers into his eyes to try to alleviate the headache that throbbed behind his temple.

"Can you tell me where Loki is now?"

“No”

The short answer made Harry's anger bubbling underneath his skin, and he bit down so as not to verbally spat his frustration on the skeleton.

"No, you do not know where he is or No, you will not tell me," Harry asked in a deadpanned voice

"I know, but I cannot tell you because it is not for you to know."

"Then WHAT can you tell me?" Snapped Harry, it was like some feelings were leaking in him that was not his own, feeling his anger, his frustration with the world. The skeleton stood still, and Harry got the feeling that he suddenly was talking to a wall, but a wall would probably have more answers than Death had given him so far.

"What do you know of creation?"

Harry stared at the skeleton for a moment after his question and then slowly exhaled through gritted teeth. He needed answers, and he felt that if he asked the right questions, he would get the answer he was looking for, but that was easier said than done. It was like Death was playing games with him. The problem right now, ironically, was what the right question was.

Harry looked at the skeleton a second longer before reciting what he had been reading about the different entities and deities. When had he been such a scholar?

”I know that Creation is a being without any beginning or end. He created himself out of nothing; he is the God of Creation and something of a king to the Gods. Even as its name is endless, Creation has several titles, but no one knew who he is as he works through others. " Harry raved and tried to remember what else he knew about the being.

Death nodded. A feeling of contentment swept over Harry as he did.

“That's right. Creation is a being that is everything, and nothing simultaneously because he can create it all. He has several avatars working underneath him; eternity, chaos, magic, miracle, and destiny are a few of them.”

"That is interesting, but what has this got to do with my situation or Loki's, for that matter?" Harry asked, pulling his hand through his long hair, making a small mess out of it.

“Because of balance.”

Harry did groan out loud in frustration this time, and the tickling feeling swept over his neck, and he gave Death an annoyed glance when he could more or less hear him snickering in his mind. But it seemed like he was finally taking pity on him.

"Loki is chaos and destruction; he is magic and the fire that lights up in every person. That is a few of creations most powerful avatars. But as all of these titles are strong, powerful, and wild in their own rights, together they are unstable," Death said and raised his hand, and a golden sphere was formed in front of him. "Give them too much, and they will try and devour and battle each other for control" the sphere expanded and at the same time began to circulate the others in a hunting dance as they fused into a more massive golden ball.

"That's where you came in," the skeleton said calmly and let a silver ball form in between the other and began to revolve around the golden one, making the ball sway calmly. "You are there to keep his balance as much as he is there to keep yours."

"Why me?" Harry looked at the two balls that flew around each other in a dance of their own.

"Why not you?" replied the skeleton, and Harry could bloody feel the amusement sipping out of Death at the words.

"Stop answering my question with a new question, please." Harry muttered, but his protest was only met with a new wave of amusement, "I know about the Peverell family that went through the test, and one of them succeeded; why not have him as your master?"

This time it seemed as if he was asking the right question, for Death hummed contentedly and banished the spheres and began to walk around and look at the meditation room. Time was still out of the loop, and when he walked around, the dust particles moved along the skeleton—almost making a tunnel behind him.

"I have always been fascinated by humanity," Death said as he stopped, "as Death, I lack the fundamentals of comprehension. I'm intrigued by humanity's ability to complicate their existence, and If I have to say, I'm deeply impressed how they etch morning can rise to the sun and not go insane from the sheer perspective of what life entails. Not only that, I always feel a sympathy tower for humanity, so when they ask for a little more time before I take them to the afterlife."

Harry turned around to follow the walking skeleton as the deity looked out of the window for a second as he talked.

" I usually ask them to play a good game of chess with me. I do love that game, the best invention of humankind. And the human get some time to calm down and accept that they had played their part in life. The Peverell brother, Ignitus, was one of my best candidates. Sadly, he was only a mortal, and therefore his soul could not exist for too long. He also had to accept that he had played his part, “Said Death as he suddenly poked the focus that was in the middle of the room, making a soft clang rang out of it as he did. Death hummed before he continued his inspection of this realm.

“He lived far longer than any of his brothers or even the magical community at that time. But he still was only a human. ” The Skeleton straightened up and walked towards Harry again.

"You, on the other hand, are not” one of Death's bony hands reached out and poked Harry in the chest, making the spot glow silver and warmth zippered through his body.

"You have always been my final candidate, young one. Devine, strong, and the other half of chaos. A perfect match. I was going to talk with you……"

Harry could feel Death smiling at him as he stared at the off-white skull; he had no idea what to say. He understood the meaning behind Death's words; a human soul had certain limitations. It simply could not live too long because then the soul began to lose its grip on reality. But had not Harald failed? he would not have been worthy of taking over that title?

".... and then Fate decided she was bored and messed everything up" Death shook his head in sorrow and sighed, "And a bored Fate is nothing you want to deal with. I like that human reference; they call it the snowball effect? Where one choice leads to another, and then the ball is spinning out of our control. And Thanos was the effect of this one, as was Harald's Unexpected Death."

Harry stood frozen at what he heard, Thanos, he recognized that name. Was Thanos not that mad titan in a fairy tale he had heard Loki tell Harald at some point? But before he could say anything, the skeleton kept talking.

"Of course, Fate understood her mistake quickly, so she asked her sister Magic for help. And when both Fate and Magic work together, things get out of hand, and miracles are there to balance them out" The sudden clattering laugh made Harry jerk in surprise and stare at him. But the skeleton would not explain what was so funny.

 "Anyway, Thanos got into his head that he needed to court Death, and my Heir was standing in his way of doing that…."

"Wait. What?..... Court ...you?" Harry interrupted; how in the world could anyone come up with the idea of ​​court Death?

"Oh, galaxy no!" a trembling clattering laugh echoed in his head. "Well, not me indirectly, more like the Goddess of Death, one of my more scheming underlings that are."

The Goddess of Death? So it was not just one who bore the title of Death, but the more Harry thought about it, the clearer he became. Death must have helpers to be able to handle all the dead, and there were different aspects of Death, so it was not so strange.

"Correct," Death said as he had been reading his mind, "you are at the top of the hiraki, the balance of Death, my master; she is the Goddess of Death, the one that maintains the souls in hell."

Harry stared at him, unimpressed by what he heard. “What does this all have to do with Loki? Or the Goddess of Death? ” Harry felt like he was getting impatient; why couldn't he get a straight answer? And now he had some strange title? or was it some kind of classification system? Harry could feel a migraine start to build up in his skull.

“Everything… and then perhaps nothing. I perceived an imbalance in the universe. As Thanos had collected the first infinity stone, he thought he was one step closer to his love. And I fear that the goddess shares some of his… feelings… I do not know; I have not spoken to Hela since the Allfather exiled her to her realm. She blames me for that part, sadly. But then someone told Thanos about the position as master of Death, and unfortunately, neither he nor his informant had no idea what that title meant. But what the informant told him was that Harald had that power." Death spoke so merely on the matter as if he was talking about the weather.

Harry knitted his brows. "But I was not at that time ..."

“... no, you were not, but Thanos did not know that, and this person did not tell that specific detail. He believed that you now held his so-called 'love' as a slave, " Death told him slowly

" Your sacrifice as Harald stopped him for a long time, that was clever of you, and I know both miracle and magic want to reward you for that."

Harry felt his head spin again and rubbed his forehead in sheer frustration. "Wait; what reward? And Harald sacrifice himself? how?"

Harry had known that he had to be able to great Death willingly as Harald, or he would not be standing here right now. But to hear him say that after all of the memories that he had been able to remember. He could not see that happen; he had been so happy and in love. But Harald had sacrificed himself for what?!

Death hummed. A quiet voice in Harry's mind advised him not to resist the core memories and to accept that anything is possible in war. If Harald had encountered Thanos and sacrificed himself, there must have been a valid reason. A growing sensation within Harry suggested that if he ever crossed paths with the titan, he should flee immediately, as he was no match for the titan.

But whatever Harald had done should have dealt with Thanos, right? He had sacrificed himself, so at least that threat had to be gone by now. Because it had been ages ago. But Harry knew was that Thanos was no ordinary enemy; he was not that easy to defeat.

"Yes,…" the soft-spoken word of Death caressed his mind. Death almost looked at him with pity. He had no idea how that even worked because there was nothing on the white skull, but Harry knew what he felt was that of sympathy in his gaze.

Harry felt his mouth dry, and his eyes sting as if he had inhaled too much smoke. Death put a gentle and bony hand on his shoulder, and Harry stiffened underneath the weight. It was heavier than he thought, and he tried to focus on that grounding feeling he got from it.

"You have a question, and I need you to say it out loud, young one."

Harry stared into the black holes where a person's eyes would have been. It was as if Death looked toward him, but at the same time, not. Like if he observed something past Harry's physical shell and into his very soul. Harry knew what this last question was; he knew what he wanted to ask, what he needed to know.

But at the same time, he feared it.

Harry stared into the dark holes where the eyes should be, and he could not even see the bottom of the skull as he did. His head begins to spin, dizziness invaded his sight, but he did not pull away. Harry inhaled a painfully slow breath; the words tasted like ash on his tongue.

"Can you make me remember?"

“Yes”

He drew in his breath and swallowed the needles that changed places with his saliva. He needed to know. And as he opened his mouth again to speak, this time was his voice one of a commanding; there was no doubt about what he said.

"Do it."

“As you wish, Master.”

Bony fingers, slender and pale, traced a chilling path from his cheek to his forehead; Harry strained to follow them with his gaze. But as those fingers began to sink into the depths of his mind, he instinctively closed his eyes. A shiver, sharp and electric, coursed through him; he could almost feel the skeletal digits vibrating with an eerie life of their own inside his head, as ancient, dense magic seeped into his consciousness like a thick, invisible fog.

The familiar sensation of a cold shiver snaked its way through him, signaling the onset of something ancient and profound. This time, however, he embraced the encroaching darkness and the vivid memory it resurrected, welcoming its haunting presence into the depths of his being for the last pussle bit.

Chapter Text

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Life begins where fear ends.

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Everything happened so fast.

Harald remembered how he had called on Heimdal to take him back to Asgard after a day with his family. He loved them, but sometimes they always had a way to crawl under his skin with their quetions. Now, he longed to spend some well needed time with his husband and refill his lost energy. As soon as he was home, he would jump him and demand some alone time.

Home. It was still bizarre to call Asgard his... home. But honestly, Harald had been thinking it over at least a dosing times and came up with the same conclusion every time. It was not Asgard he was feeling was home for him. But instead, wherever Loki was, and now he was on Asgard. Sappy, he knew, but that was the truth. No matter how far away he strayed, Loki would always be waiting for him, holding him close, making him feel safe, and loved.

The moment Harald stepped into the rainbow tunnel, a visceral sense of wrongness engulfed him like a stormy tide. The lurking presence at his back crystallized that dread into a palpable fear. Whirling around with a surge of adrenaline, he narrowly dodged the deadly arc of a silver blade aimed with ruthless precision at his spine. The blade's edge barely skimmed his shoulder, leaving behind a searing trail of agony that lashed through him like a branding iron.

Everything after the happened rapidly; Harald saw a flash of jet-black hair and icy blue eyes blazing at him with hatred. And then he had been thrown out of Bifrost's protective atmosphere and into the void, breaking the colorful wall into billions of small crystal pieces.

Moments after he was hurled from the vibrant, multicolored bridge, Harald's magic automatically enveloped him for protection as the air pulled him downward. He landed with a painful thud, the impact tossing his body harshly. Stones and debris slammed into him as he rolled, and a fiery sensation spread across his body when he finally came to a halt. Dust swirled around him in thick clouds, and he gasped in pain as the impact left him breathless.

Oh, by the Norns, it burned like hellfire in his lungs. Harald forced himself to breathed in hard and looked up; his eyes stung as some of the dirt entered them. Harald raised his head and looked around. His attacker was still out there, and he had the feeling she was close.

One part of him wanted to call on Loki, wanted him to be there for him, help him, but he crushed that thought as soon as it popped up. No, Loki was in an important meeting, and he could deal with her by himself. A wave of low simmering anger bubbled in his chest, and he rolls over on his stomach and spat mixed-blood saliva on the ground to clear his mouth.

The sky was dark; not even a single star lit up the vast space. Three moons hung above him, making the ground around Harald bath in the silver moonlight, acting as a single light to another dark world.

Harald grimaced and moved his arms, and lifted himself into a sitting position. Why was it always his bad luck that followed him? He should have known that everything had been too calm lately, too good to be true. Harald sighed resignedly. Did fate hate him so much, or was it the Norns that liked to play with him, sending his goddamn aunt his way like this.

As Harald's eyes adjusted to the low light, he surveyed his surroundings and realized that this was not a living planet. It seemed to be some kind of sub-dimensional realm, as he couldn't find any other explanation. Yet, he couldn't sense the presence of Yggdrasil. This place must be the void.

"Damn the nine and the Norns," Harald swore low as he hissed in pain when he pressed his hand to the stab wound on his shoulder; his fingers were getting wet with the warm liquid fast. Blood was seeping out of the tear, and through his fingers, it was probably more profound than he first had thought.

Harald could even taste blood in his mouth and dribbling down his cheek, and he pulled it away with the back of his hand to get rid of what he could. He could feat a sore area inside his lip, probably from where he had bit himself.

Harald could feel a curious caress over his magic as Loki wondered what had happened, and why he was not there yet, and sent a feeling that he was waiting. Harald groaned and moved his body; he put his legs underneath him and slowly got up. He would not be an easy target; he refused. The only question now was where he ended up and how he could get back home.

Suddenly, Harald saw a shape move in the darkness towards him. It was hard to be sure what it was because of the shadows that flocked around the shape like a cape. The air he breathed felt strange, and it tasted weird. The figure grew more and more as they moved to where he was, and Harald conjured his magic staff in front of him.

He grabbed the familiar cold metal on his signature weapon and felt how it gave him a sense of protection. The green emerald in the rod's shaft caught the moonlight, making the stone sparkle under the light. A mist moved in the stone, golden and shimmering.

The rod was created with the dwarves' metal and forged by their hands. It was made of the same metal as Loki's special daggers were made from. It had been purely by chance, though he was not surprised, magical artifacts chose their bearers, and both his and Loki's magic was the same.

"The master of death" the tone that suddenly broke the otherwise silent atmosphere was cold and calculated, but at the same time so soft when he pronounced each word with care. Like he tested each sibyl and decided that he did not like the taste of them. "Welcome, you have been expected."

Harald blinked slowly, his grip on the staff hardened, and pointed at the still-growing shapes. Whoever this was, the voice had no idea what he was talking about. He was not the Master of Death, and he probably would never be that, something Harald accepted eons ago. But whoever this was, was waiting for the Master of Death, a simple Midgardian, to come here? Something was not right. Had all this perhaps been an accident?

No, it was him they had been lying in ambush for, or rather his aunt had. Yet, as the enormous figure came into view, Harald suppressed a hiss upon realizing exactly who it was. It was someone far from good, not even in the slightest. Harald quickly blocked his contact with Loki wholly and changed position slightly to a more defensive stand while the titan, Thanos, came to a stop in front of him.

He knew that this had to be the mad titan; there was no one else it could be. His looming height, built and purplish skin, adorned with dozens of scars that testified to many battles, of what he had emerged victorious. This being was one of the most horrible threats to the universe and a legend.

"You got the wrong person, sorry," Harald replied with a raspy voice; he tried to look behind him if he could get away but still didn't let the titan out of his view.

Thanos now stared down at him with a calm expression, not a bit threatened by the spear pointed directly at his neck. Especially not when Harald only went to his chest and was, in fact, probably not going to get very far if he tried anything. Even the titan's hands were bigger than his head. Harald clenched his teeth, and if there was any time he hated his shortness, it was in situations like these.

The energy around the titan was blazing; it was lashing out and was scary, focused, and directed straight on him. Darkness surrounded the titan like a black hole, and the red tint in the energy told him more about the titan than any world could ever hope to do.

The titan was a murderer on a mission; Harald could literary feel it. The titan was someone that saw killing as a necessary evil to get what he wanted. Whatever that was. But it was probably not something that Harald would like. He needed to focus on trying to escape or avoid getting caught.

"No, I don't believe I have," Thanos said slow, calculated. And with a quick movement that Harald thought should have been impossible for someone of the titans' size, he took a quick step toward him. Thanos latched out his hand and grabbed his spear before Harald could even act on the threat.

Harald sidestepped the titans and struck out with one leg when the staff was stuck in a tight grip. He felt how his legs hit the massive giant arm, the force sent waves of pain up through his leg, but Thanos barely reacted. Harald hissed out a word as his hand lit up in a silver tint, and lightning covered his hands as he gripped on the much larger hand. But the magic was interrupted as Thanos harshly pulled him close, not even bothered by the small shock as his skin was thick.

In the next second, Thanos's other hand shot out like a snake. Harald pulled back as he tried to avoid him, but the purple hand was faster; he got a grip on his hair and held it tightly. Making escaping impossible.

Harald held back a hiss of pain as he charged his free hand again, this time with a hot glowing coating his fist. Hitting the titans side, making him grunt, but his grip did not lose on his hair. What a crappy disadvantage it was with long hair. It was times like this that Harald hated the arrogance and tradition that came with being a royal. If he got out of this alive, he would cut his hair; tradition be damned.

"You have someone that I want, little prince," Thanos grunted out

He said someone, not something. Harald bit down; this was not good, not good at all; who the hell was he talking about? He let the staff disappear from his hand and drew it back only to make the staff reaper again, now free from the titan's hand. Harald threw his hand down in a narrow-angle at the big hand that held him. But even if the titan was massive and huge compared to him, he was almost faster. The purple hand hurled down at him and, this time, pulled the spear right out of Harald's.

"Give her to me."

"I have...n-no idea who you are talking about," Harald gasped, his voice barely audible over the crackling tension in the air. A pained yelp tore from his throat as the titan's immense hand bore down with relentless force, driving Harald mercilessly into the unyielding ground. His skull was wrenched back, muscles straining under the brutal pressure, exposing his neck.

"Yes, you do, "Thano leaned into his face and stared down at the fae. "She is someone you keep as your slave," he explained coldly.

" What?" Harald hissed at the harsh treatment and grabbed the powerful wrist, and he tried to get away again.

Only to fail.

Harald felt how his head was bent further back at that motion, and he was suddenly afraid that his neck would snap, and he bit down a painful hiss that wanted to leave his thought. The feeling of being vulnerable swept over him like a tsunami. He could feel how the ligaments in his neck protested from the harsh treatment his head received and the unnatural position.

" I'm only going to ask you one last time, child," Thanos said as he slowly started to raise his hand, still holding Harald's hair in a stable grip. "Release the goddess of Death from your cruel slavery, and I may perhaps spare one of your loved ones."

Harald bit down on the inside of his cheek as the cold feeling wandered along his spine, and he tried to take a breath, but the unnatural positions made it almost impossible to get some air down to them. Release the Goddess of Death? Harald had no idea who she even was! How could he? he never even heard of that title before. Harald opened his mouth to say something, but then he hesitated. Suddenly there was an idiotic idea that had started to form in his mind, a terrible one. It was such a Thor plan to do, but perhaps he could make it work, probably.

"You…." Harald swallowed around the lump that had stuck in his throat and tried to push moisture into his now dry mouth" You don't know, do ... you?"

The purple titan's face changed slowly, and his eyes narrowed, his grip hardened on Harald's hair as a warning. He could feel parts of his hair being torn from the roots, and the anxious feeling inside him attracted more and more attention from his partner, but he continued to ignore it. The fear spread within him as fast as his determination grew.

"What do I not know, little prince?" Thanos said in a cold warning tone as if he had begun to lose his patience. Good, he needed the titan not thinking clearly, and anger was the best emotion for that.

Harald calmed himself as well as he could because here goes nothing.

"Shouldn't you ask your informant about it?"

"Why should I? She would never dare to betray me," the purple titan asked, and Harald could see a second shadow behind him, and his lips drew back in a silent snarl as he recognized her. Of course, she was working for the fucking mad titan. One thing to suspect, but now he had confirmation about her treason.

"Perhaps you are confident in your own beliefs? She doesn't have the best track record of being faithful," Harald asked as he tried to figure out the next part of his plan of action; this was the god damn titan! he was a horrible legend, immortal and powerful, already once tried to take over the universe. Even worse, that made his odds worse, and when he added in his aunt, the scale was tipping further down in the wrong direction.

"She is good at stabbing people in the back, thou."

That statement earned him a hard punch in the chest. The force from the blow threw him away a few meters and knocked his head against a boulder; his scalp burned where hairs were violently torn off. The sudden burning pain that bloomed in his chest made him almost blind for a second, and his blockage of the bond slipped. And Loki was there right beside him, not in person but in magic and feelings the second the block was gone.

‘Do not dare to ignore me, Harald!’ Loki's snarling voice tore through his already bruised body. Harald tried to force air into his lungs, and once he succeeded, every breath burned, and he could not help the pain even breaking through their connection.

‘Harald?’ Loki's voice had suddenly entirely changed from anger to one that dripped with worry.

Harald swore low and forced himself on the side while trying to close the connection again. He could not deal with Loki now; he could not let him distract him from what he needed to do. For no matter how much it tormented him. Thanos was too powerful, and he would be damned if he let the mad titan even lay his hand on his mate. He forced himself to the side and coughed until when the air finally flowed more easily into his lungs.

‘Where are you? Are you hurt? Talk to me, Starlight...Don't block me out’

Harald tried to hold back the tears over the raw emotions that tore within him, and he focused on the warm feeling of love that was the basis of Loki's anxiety and rage before he tried to shut him out again. He could not handle Loki's emotions when he had trouble even controlling himself.

‘Not right now, dear,’ he insisted, his magic intensifying as he conversed with Loki. It felt warm, as if they shared an unbreakable bond strengthened by magic, which made him feel more powerful yet more exposed.

‘Yes, now! Why aren't you back on Asgard?!’ Loki demanded with urgency, and Harald could sense him stirring on the other side of their connection.

Thanos looked at him over with a calculated gaze, "You don't have any idea of what I'm talking about, do you?" Harald asked slowly, not exactly expecting Harald to answer him.

Thanos looked over to the black-haired women behind him, Sigrud, the second born princess and the runts' aunt. He let his eyes travel over the stone-faced women that met his gaze and visibly swallowed. Thanos had early understood that to create a change, unnecessary variables needed to be cut away. Thanos knew the little prince was lying; this tiny excuse to fae had a cloak of death around him, like a warm embrace.

"So lost, struggling with life as you believe it is. I know how it is like to lose," Thanos walked over to him slowly, etch stem making the ground vibrate underneath him. "To feel so desperately that you are right, yet to fail, none the less."

"Who said anything about losing?" Harald breathed out and pulled his hand along his chin, and stared up at the giant. "What I do not understand is what you want."

"What I want?" He chuckled darkly, " I want to tip the cosmic scales back to balance. I want to see peace."

Harald's pupils turned into slits, that did not sound good, not good at all. He could feel how Loki had penetrated the thin barrier he had put him in between them. Harald could both feel and heard the gasp from Loki as the words ran around their minds.

‘He is after the infinity stone,’ Said Loki with a low growl. Harald could feel how he moved, but he did not know where. But he could only hope that he was not going to come to him; if his plan succeeded, he would not have to worry. But that was a big if.

‘What is that?’ Harald asked; he knew that now was not the time for a lecture. But it sounded as it was necessary knowledge.

He could feel Loki agree with that statement; ‘it was what Thanos was after last time’

‘So rich on information,’ Harald drawled out, ‘perhaps you need to tell the All-Father’

‘No! what I need is to get you the hell out of there,’ Loki snarled, and Harald held back a winch at the rage he felt from his mate.

’Working on it’ Harald stared up at the giant; he had to buy some time. Then perhaps Heimdal could find him in time, "You are not only after the goddess of Death, but you are also after the infinity stones."

"Clever, little prince," Thanos hummed, "I need them to complete her gift."

"So what? Do you commit genocide for a mere shadow?" Harald understood as soon as the words left his mouth that it was the wrong word to say out loud, and a big hand hit him, and he was thrown aside.

"YOU have no idea what you're talking about," Thanos bellowed, suddenly aware that he had momentarily let his emotions get the best of him. It was not the time to lose his composure, but the little fae had outlived his usefulness.

Harald felt a cold dread wash over him as he understood he was in a precarious situation. Sweat trickled down his forehead, stinging his eyes and slightly blurring his vision. He had no choice but to act.

‘I'm sorry,’ Harald now said softly to Loki; he could not help but stare at the feet that slowly walked against him. ‘You are not going to like the next part.’

Harald waved his fingers to the side, casting a cutting spell at the titan's leg. The spell barely scratched the surface, failing to draw blood. Yet, it was enough to make the giant pause, glance down at its leg, and chuckle at the feeble effort.

‘What's happening?’ Loki's fear and anxiety grew with each passing second. He could feel the danger radiating off of Harald, and it was making his heart race.

‘What are you planning, Harald? Hold on...Heimdall is close to finding you...keep stalling him.’ Loki tried to sound calm, but he knew that their time was running out. He couldn't lose Harald again.

‘You know that I will do my best,’ Harald replied as he shot another burst of magic at the titan. He could feel his energy draining, but he refused to give up. This was for the safety of Asgard and all the realms.

‘How do we know that he will not follow me to Asgard?’ Harald asked his mate, concern lacing his words.

Loki didn't have an answer; they were running out of options. They needed more time until Heimdall could find them. But how much longer could they hold out against such a powerful enemy?

A punch right in his stomach made Harald fly back and crash into a boulder. Pain shot through his body, and he struggled to get up. Thanos' laughter echoed in his ears as he slowly approached him.

"Do you really believe your feeble magic can defeat me?" Thanos sneered, holding him up by the throat with ease. "Maybe I'll hold onto your body, just to taunt your husband a bit. I do enjoy some theatrics before the main event."

Harald panted heavily, fighting against the giant's hold. "You will not touch my husband!" he snarled, his nails clawing into the leathery skin.

Thanos pulled him nearer, a twisted smile on his face. "I can and I will," he declared. Harald concentrated solely on his breathing, attempting to clear his mind. The spell was already gathering strength within him.

Suddenly, a powerful surge of magic hurled Thanos away from Harald, causing the fae to fall to the ground with a painful gasp. But Thanos only grunted as he straightened up and stretched his neck.

"That's it, playtime is over. I will track down your people, find your lover, and make them suffer," Thanos threatened.

Harald looked at the massive giant in front of him and realized that every word Thanos spoke was true. He couldn't allow that to happen.

‘I'm sorry, Loki,’ Harald murmured gently, finding comfort in the familiarity of the words as he began plotting the rune patterns in his mind. His fingers instinctively traced symbols on the ground with blood. The anchor. ‘If the Bifrost were to opened, he would gain entry to Asgard’

‘No, no, no, do not- do that! You can't do that... We are there soon. Please don't do it,’ Loki suddenly begged as he notising the drain of magic.

‘Love, but you can't reach me in time.’ Harald admitted that he didn't want to do this, but he had to, If Thanos planned to make his way through worlds. Not only were the nine realms in danger, but also those who resided inside the realms. And if the Bifrost were open, he would have direct access to his loved ones.

‘W..what?’ Loki's voice split as the weight of the words hit him hard. ‘Y-yes we can, I can!’

Harald's heart clenched at Loki's desperate plea, but he knew what he had to do. He couldn't wait for Loki, not when the fate of the universe was at stake. Harald spat out several mouthfuls of blood while he clenched his chest. He could feel that one of his ribs were broken and probably had punctured one of his lungs if he's breathing was anything to tell from.

Harald could hear Loki's words echoing in his mind, a mix of prayer, command, and desperation. He swallowed hard, tasting metal, and slowly lifted his gaze to meet the giant now looming over him. Viridian eyes locked with cold amethyst.

"I will not let you plan a universal genocide, Thanos," Harald hissed in a low voice to the purple titan. Yet, doubt flickered within him. So close to Thanos, he could feel his magic stirring in his hand, knowing he had only one shot. He had begun to draw on Loki's magic as his own faltered, wavering between the righteousness of his mission and the overwhelming fear of the consequences.

"Oh? and you think you can stop me?" Thanos asked, amused. "A mere insect cannot kill me."

"I am no mere insect," Harald growled, his voice straining with effort as he raised his hand and unleashed a powerful blast of magic towards Thanos. The force of the spell was enough to knock the giant off his feet and send him flying backwards. He needed more time for the sceling spell.

But Thanos was resilient, and he quickly stood up with a menacing glare directed towards Harald. "You will pay for that," he snarled, charging towards Harald with dangerous intent.

‘Please, Harald,’ Loki's voice was now pleading, so desperate, and it was so wrong to hear. ‘Please, Starlight, do not do this, you must wait for me!.’

‘I cannot love. He's too strong, and I won't let him take control of you or anyone else if I have any say in it.’ Harald felt a warning shiver run through him as he kept their connection completely open. With his defenses lowered, he couldn't stop his pain from leaking into their link.

He sensed Loki's heartbeat pounding rapidly, mirroring his own; though it was just an echo of sensation, it comforted him to know he was not alone. Harald felt their magic intertwining, and he stifled a small sound when he sensed Loki’s anguish and fear; both of them knew what was approaching, and Loki was so desperate, so terrified.

‘Harald .. love… Please’

He hated it when Loki begged; he should beg to no one, no the least him. Not for the pain he would cause him. Harald tried to smother the feelings out but find that it was almost impossible.

Thano's colossal purple hand clamped around Harald's throat, hoisting him into the air. Harald clawed at the unyielding skin, his nails splitting as they scraped against the titan's hand. Desperation coursed through him; he could not afford to die now. With a frantic urgency, he channeled his spell, letting its chaotic power ripple into the earth below and seep outwards in a frenzied dance of energy. Oblivious to the danger, the titan remained unaware of Harald's true intent.

Harald locked eyes with Thano's stern, unyielding gaze, feeling the raw magic thrumming through his veins, resonating with the spell.

Feeding of the very source of Yggdrasil. The energy swelled within him, a storm begging for release, igniting his eyes with an almost incandescent glow.

‘No, no, no, no!’

‘I love you, in this life and the next,’ Harald declared fiercely against the haunting mantra that reverberated through the air. Loki's voice, raw with desperation, promised, ‘I will find you again.’

Harald fought to steady his breath, even as his heart thundered in his chest like a war drum. The memory of past failures burned brightly in his mind, a relentless reminder. He would not falter again; he would not repeat his mistakes. This time, the enemy would remain firmly in his sights, no matter the cost.

"Master! Watch out," Sigrud suddenly yelled as she had felt the spell activate, but she was too late.

Harald's magic erupted from his slender, bruised body with the force of a tempest, enveloping Thanos like an unyielding barrier, trapping them both within its confines. Thanos surveyed the shimmering enclosure of gold that had materialized around them, its luminescent surfaces reflecting a warm, ethereal glow.

The air inside was tense with the crackling energy of magic, and the black-haired prince's gasps for oxygen were ragged and desperate, echoing in the confined space. Thanos, disregarding Harald's struggle for breath, reached out with his free hand to touch the gleaming wall. As his fingers made contact, a jolt of energy surged through him, causing him to recoil abruptly, his eyes widening with a mix of shock and fascination at the electrifying touch of the mystical barrier.

"What is this kind of magic?"

Harald felt how his strength started to leave him, and his movement started to get sluggish. The only thing he now could hear was his fast heartbeat and Loki's screams. He tries to block as much of his pain as possible, but his husband tears every barrier apart before he even could form it.

‘Please, I beg you, do not.… Starlight… don't die. Not agagin, never again!’

‘I'm sorry,’ Harald ruefully said, and he could feel it. It was like a knife in his spine that twisted. He could feel Loki so close, so, so very close. Harald tries to send a feeling of love and security when his words betray him, and his power slowly begins to seep out. Simultaneously, the barrier solidifies around them—not even noticing the other woman's weak attempts to destroy it from the outside.

Time was running out, and he knew that this was it for him; he knew and welcomed it because it meant that his loved one would not be in direct danger. He knew that one day he would probably repent for his choice. The cold was razor deep, and the darkness was starting to invading him, stripping him of everything living.

Harald could no longer see without the darkness invading his sight, no more extended breath as he was slowly suffocating. And he hated that feeling, The feeling of burning in his lungs, The lack of strength in his body as he slowly faded away, but he had to finish the magic, he had to… But there was one thing he had not taken into consideration when he created the spell.

To keep a soul trapped with this spell, there had to be an equal exchange for keeping it there. He could feel it before he understood his mistake, and by then, it was too late. Magic pulsed out of him simultaneously as a - snap- was heard within the empty sphere.

Harald didn't even notice when it happened. He was unaware when his soul left his already dying body and fused with the golden barrier that now trapped Thanos. The golden box emitted a blinding light before gradually dimming as the body in the Titan's grasp went limp.

Inside the box, the titan struck forcefully, his mouth moving without producing any sound. He was confined in a golden prison, but eventually, even the strongest magic would begin to weaken.

Thanos's eyes burned with rage, and he threw his head back in a silent scream, knowing that not even the witch outside could break a soul cage.

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Harry had never felt that kind of pain ever, not even under the cruciate curse; it was impossible to explain the pain that tore his soul in any other way than shattered. He felt his spine bend backward in a strong arc so that it almost broke off in two. He tried to scream out the pain that tore at him, but nothing left his lips. Suddenly it was as if everything just sank in.

And it burned. He felt the memories and knowledge that was not his fall through the damme that now burst inside his mind. Harry could feel Harald's grief over his decision and, at the same time, the desire to protect the one he loved the most. He had welcomed death with open arms. He remembered how he sent all the magic and knowledge into the soul barrier that had held Thanos captive for centuries.

After the time on the outside had not stopped, the wall had weakened as Thanos had been strong enough to break free and destroy the golden cage. Maybe it had been Sigurd's doing, he had no idea, but one thing he knew was that Thanos was now free, and he was angry.

Thanos wanted to create cosmic balance, but he was destroying the foundation of it.

Harry lay still on the ground and just breathed, glad he could do it again without the burning pain. Cold tears ran down his cheeks as he felt how this memory had been different from all the others; this had been Death opening the gate to everything.

It had not only been Harald inside that body. Harry had the first seat to the memory and felt everything that he had. He had felt Loki's magic plush throw him in that connection that had bonded them together. The one that still was there. The link was from that time when Loki had broken through Sigrud's blockage on Haralds Magic, intertwin both of their magic. That was the sole reason they had this connection; their very soul was one.

Harry let go of a dry laugh. Why was everything so awful complicated when it came to him? he dug his palms against his eyes as the dry laughter died out, leaving him sobbing on the cold floor. He could feel Death still beside him, like a silent sentinel that had watched over him as the memory had played out.

"Come, little one, your destiny awaits you."

Harry suffocated a broken laugh that tore from his throat. Fuck destiny. He wanted to throttle that damn thing for meddling in his life. He exhaled haphazardly and sat up slowly. His head thumped as if someone had hit his temple with a hammer, but his thoughts had never been clearer than they were now. He feels like a pawn in someone's sad excuse of survivor's games.

And that game, Harry had enough of from his school years. He had been fighting since he was a child. But he was not only a survivor; He was a warrior, and he would fight for what was his. Slowly he got up from the ground, every muscle in his body screamed in protest, and he could feel how his magical core was overflowing with raw energy.

"You owe me for this," Harry said low to Death, "And you will answer my next question."

"If you have to ask, you will never know. If you know, you only need to ask," Death stood in front of him, waiting, smiling as he waited. Death could feel it in his very own bones. He finally had a worthy candidate; he finally found his true Master.

Harry could feel the energetic atmosphere around the deity without even looking at him. He slowly raised his gaze, and determination shines through his viridian eyes.

"Tell me where Loki is going to be."

Death grinned. That was the right question.

"As you wish, Master."

Death had provided Harry with more information than he had requested. Whether this was a gesture of goodwill or simply because he could, Harry was unsure. However, Death had revealed both the location of Loki, and details about an Infinity Stone on Earth. Harry suspected there might be more than one stone present. When he located Loki, he intended to inquire about why such a potent stone was allowed to remain on Earth.

But that took him back to the discussion that he and his three friends currently had. And Harry blinked stupidly at his best friend as Ron grinned back at him.

"You kidding, right?" Harry asked

"Why not? Think about it, mate. You don't want anyone to know that you are going over to New Pork, right? Plus, might be able to track down where Loki is before we get there to help you"

"New York," Hermione sighted

"Yeah, that," Ron pointed at Hermione when she corrected him yet again. "So we skip the portkey and take the aro- thingy that my Dad is bonkers over, and whips we are in a new country, right?"

"An airplane," Hermione corrected with an amused smile as Ron glared at her this time.

"What about my magical and non-magical ways of getting around?" Harry asked nervously, glancing between them. "I'm not very steady at the moment; I might have Harald's memory, but his control is something I lack."

Ron snorted, "Mate, you probably have the best control over your magic since Dumbledor. Probably more so now with your bloody your heritage, and if you don't do anything, then it will probably not interfere."

Harry's expression was a mixture of doubt and uncertainty. "Isn't magic tied to emotions?" he questioned, hesitating. "I hate to say it, but I'm not as stable or in controll of my self as I was an hour ago." The experience of facing death and sensing his loved one being torn from him left him with every justification for his emotional turmoil, even if if only was an memory.

"True, no one saying anything else. But how else would we reach there without using that method? Every international port-key is under strict surveillance, especially in America, where they dislike unexpected arrivals from outside. Plus, it takes several days to obtain a permit for one."

He was right. Harry knew that if they wanted to avoid all the commotion that could arise from them taking an international portkey. Besides, he was not stupid enough to think that it would be easy not to get noticed. But that didn't mean that they would make it easy for them.

"Are you sure that was what Death meant with New York?" Hermione asked hesitantly

"Yes, Loki may not be there right now, but he will end up there shortly. Death was happy to disclose that information before he said he had to go back."

Ron looked pretty hesitant; Death was happy? Why did that feel ominous?. "Perhaps we should come with you?"

"No!" Harry quickly protested and got up from his chair

"Why not? you need all the help you can get"

Hermione nodded and looked at him firmly. "And we do not know if this is the last of your memories; what if you suddenly get more and are in an unsafe place? they have not exactly had a pattern so far."

"I'm quite certain more memories will resurface, but I doubt any of them will incapacitate me like they have recently," Harry argued in his defense.

"That is not enough!" the bushy-haired witch objected. "If a memory overwhelms you and you pass out, there will be no one to help, and someone would need to call the hospital or something, which would alert the government to your presence. Or worse, alert someone with bad intentions."

Harry clenched his fists so tightly that it hurt, trying to force himself to relax. They were right, and it frustrated him to no end. All he wanted was to get to America as fast as possible, find Loki, and haul him to safety. But then what? Harry didn't have a clue about what would happen next. The urge to find Loki and stay close, to assure him he wasn't going anywhere, was overwhelming. Yet, he wasn't naive enough to think things would return to how they once were. Still, he couldn't help but hope. Harry gripped his wrist where the soul mark tingled, shutting his eyes with a deep breath as he struggled to calm the chaotic energy swirling around him.

"Alright"

Ron gave a whooping sound, and Hermione nodded, pleased she had already mentally started checking off everything they could need. The two men gave her an amused glance before they looked at each other and shrugged.

"I hate to drag you into this…"

"Let me stop you right there, mate," Ron said as he held up a hand. "You are not dragging us into anything, you are our family, and family helps each other; end of the discussion."

"Besides, after everything you have said about Loki, I want to see if he is really that hot that you have made him out to be" Hermione smiled teasingly. "Or perhaps we will see Thor?"

Harry stared at her in horror, and she blinked back innocently.

"What? the way you talk about him makes him sound like a…"

"God?"

"Yes, why thank you, Ronald," she replied with a playful smile, her eyes twinkling as she teased Ron, who gazed back with a mix of amusement and faux annoyance. "But I don't think that they are gods."

"You haven't seen Thor's arms yet," Harry muttered under his breath, a hint of envy in his tone. He couldn't help but lament his own wiry frame, wondering why fate had cursed him with such a slender body once again.

"What did you say?" Hermione inquired, her curiosity piqued as she turned her keen gaze toward Harry, who met her eyes with an expression of innocent surprise, his eyes widening in an attempt to feign ignorance.

"Nothing, I said nothing," Harry quickly replied, trying to mask his previous comment with a nonchalant shrug.

"Not what I heard," Ron said, flashing a mischievous grin that made the air around them feel lighter, like a shared joke only they understood.

"We are not talking about this," Harry insisted, his cheeks flushing as he spun on his heel to leave. He wasn't fleeing the conversation, absolutely not—he just had to get started on packing immediately.

"I would love to see those muscles you’ve talked about," Ron continued, his voice teasing.

"I can't believe anyone has that kind of physique and stil walk straight" Harry groaned

"Yeeahh…Clearly fake" Ron nodded,

“Yeah, do you belive Loki have a six pack?” Hermione teased

"I'm Out" Harry raised his voice and covered his ears before momentarily appearing out of there and in his room where he breathed out. His cheeks were hot, and he could not believe that was happening! But even though he felt very embarrassed, Harry could not help grinning happily as he walked back to his room. He had never had a real family, not in this life at least; he had always been an unwanted stain in his so-called family register; he was nothing but a burden, a freak.

That had changed when he came to Hogwarts and met Hermione and Ron, and not just them. He could now barely keep track of how many he counted as friends and extended family. Some closer than others. But this feeling he felt for Ron and Hermione was what he imageneded it felt to have siblings. Harry smiled as he went to the patio door, which was still ajar, and the darkness outside had brought with it a damp cold.

He could hear a hippogriff screaming in the distance, and something black pulled over the dark sky in a night flight. Harrys went out on the balcony and hung over the railing. His gaze was fixed on the stars flashing down towards him, wondering if Asgard was any of these stars? The stars reminded him of his wedding with Loki and their vowes.

"I do believe in both fate and destiny, but I also believe that we are fated to do the things that we choose to do. And I'd choose you; In a hundred lifetimes, In a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I find you, and I'd choose you. "

Those words had never resonated more deeply, and Harry glanced at his soul mark, gently tracing his fingers over the skin.

In a twist of fate, his words were honest; he had chosen Loki once more, without a moment's doubt, and he was determined to find him. Anyone who had harmed Loki would face Harry's wrath. Harry breathed out, sensing the familiar and bothersome chill creeping along his spine, a sensation that had become both a routine and irritating.

He felt so powerless; was this how Loki had felt when he gave his life to imprison Thanos? Harry sighed and dropped his head on the cool stone. He felt the sucking sensation in his stomach again and bit together when it almost hurt.

A sudden ringing in his ears made him flinch, causing his vision to blur. Harry felt himself tilt slightly as his head began to throb painfully. He stifled a scream when it felt as if someone was pounding on his temple. Abruptly, all surrounding sounds vanished, and he heard it—a dark voice speaking to him.

-The tesseract has awakened-

Harry stared ahead, his eyes wide but unseeing, as if his own vision had betrayed him. The woods had vanished, replaced by a sinister landscape that clawed at the edges of his memory with terrible familiarity. Desperation clawed at his throat as he tried to speak, but silence choked him. Suddenly, a blue cube pierced his vision, commanding his attention with an inexplicable intensity. It was deceptively small and innocent, yet it held him captive in its grasp.

It felt as though an entirely new source of energy was swirling within the small cube, eager to be released. Harry was tempted to reach out and touch it, yet his body wouldn't allow him to move. Was this a new kind of memory? It was unlike anything he had experienced before, or perhaps it was somehow connected to Death?

-He is ready to lead. -

Harry tried to see who the hateful voice talked to, but he could only see the ruins of a dark world before him. This was not like the connection he had with his dreams. Harry tried to look the otehr way, but he could not move his head. Suddenly he felt that something was pushed in his hand and looked down at the silver spear. Harry could feel his long slender fingers close around the spear's cold metal, but at the same time, it was not his. The staff's energy amplified his emotions. They had no right to cast him out; it was all their fault. And they would soon regret their decision.

Harry tried to drop the vile staff, but his body would not listen to him, he was not the one in control. Instead, he brought the spear up closer to his face, and he could see his reflection in the blue-tinted light. It was not his face that stared into his eyes.

Loki.

He stared at his image and tried to find the warm, emerald green eyes he had fallen in love with within his memory. But the only color that was staring right back at him was an electric blue hue. Loki looked tired, worn, and almost empathetic as if he were just a shell for them to use as they wished. He could feel something tickling in the back of his head, something dark, was it a voice?

Harry felt nausea sway in his stomach, and he forced down the awful feeling that swept over him and heard his voice speak again.

-Our forces are prepared to follow him-

He felt exhaustion and agony coursing through his body, as if every muscle had been shredded and clumsily reassembled. His head throbbed with equal torment. Suddenly, he could both see and sense the monstrous alien creatures lurking in the shadows, their growls echoing menacingly. They were poised, waiting with feral anticipation, ready to strike and devour. Yet, they were his to command at last, an army of nightmares at his beck and call, primed for destruction!

-It is Time-

No, no, this can't happen, Harry attempted to protest, yearning to escape with Loki's body. However, he found himself immobilized, compelled to follow the voice's command. He sensed Loki's emotions intertwining with his own. The chill within him subsided, and he resigned himself to his destiny, even welcoming it.

-The world will be His, and the universe yours, and the humans? They will be forced to burn.-

Harry held his breath as the voice repeated his final words, a chill of horror washing over him. His? Could this really be happening by chance, especially after everything Death had revealed to him? The urgency to discuss Thanos gnawed at him, yet uncertainty paralyzed his thoughts. Harry knew he needed to act, to intervene somehow, but doubt clouded his resolve. He felt torn, desperate to pull Loki away from the man standing before them, yet unsure if he could muster the courage to do so, fearing it might already be too late.

A wicked grin stretched across Loki's lips, the icy blue hue of his eyes deepening ominously as the check concluded. The world around Harry swirled into chaos, and with another gasp, he was hurled back into his consciousness, clutching desperately to the stone railing for support. They had to reach New York, and they had to do it with within the houer.

Loki was descending upon Earth, and he was bringing an army with him.

Chapter Text

"This is bad."

"Say something I do not already know" Harry pulled an irritated hand through his hair and tried to get it out of his face.

"Alright, this whole situation is a complete disaster," Ron snapped, his arms tightly crossed over his chest. His eyes burned with frustration as he shot an irritated glare at his best friend.

Harry rolled his eyes and rubbed his face. "Thanos, Infiniti stones, and Loki is coming with an army. Did I miss something?"

"Nope," Ron replied, emphasizing the 'p.' "Actually, yes, there is one thing. Shouldn't we include the end of the world in that list too? And maybe mention how you keep jumping from one impossible situation to another? This isn't good for any of us; we're starting to get accustomed to it all."

"Ha-ha," Harry drawled, but he could not help the weak smile tug on his lips.

Hermione stepped in before they could keep arguing. "To simplify things, we need to set our priorities," she stated, raising her wand to write in the air, trailing red letters behind. "I think our biggest concern right now is Loki. It's likely that Thanos hasn't collected all the stones yet; otherwise, why would he send Loki here with an army to prepare the way? Are you familiar with the Infinity Stones?" she inquired of Harry.

Harry shook his head. "Not much, but I know that there are six infinity stones that represent elements, and they each control different essential aspects of existence," Harry said as he drew his wand and started to write next to Hermione's letters.

"Space, Reality, Power, Soul, Mind, and Time. As of today, there are only two known beings with immense power that have been able to wield the stones without losing their minds or burn out. The Celestials are an ancient race of vast matter and energy manipulation abilities, and then there is the mad titan, Thanos. We can be certain that he has a stone, but I have no idea which."

Ron visited low and stared at the long-haired male, "not much, you say? I 'am afraid even to know how much is stuffed inside that brain of yours theas days."

"To be honest, I feel the same way," Harry remarked as he studied the writing. It was odd to know more than he was supposed to, almost like he was cheating, yet it also felt completely natural. He could now confidently say that he and Harald had once been the same person, but he had... transformed? It was peculiar to think of it like that, but Harry couldn't find a better way to describe it to himself.

He was Harry; he was still himself, yet there was an added complexity that he couldn't quite grasp. The issue was whether he would begin to lose his sense of self because of Harald's influence. When would this transformation be complete? Who would he ultimately become? He wasn't sure if he wanted to find out or if he was scared of losing the Harry he knew.

"Alright," Hermione brought Harry back into the present. "Let's assume Harry's transformation is now complete, and the last vision you got was from Loki. But from your description, does it not sound like he was not a place here on earth?"

Harry nodded. "No, it was a ruined world, I think. Perhaps the void?"

"So either he has to travel here in some ship or through a portal?" Hermione hummed

"And do not forget the army!" Ron added helpfully

"Yes, in alien armada. And after Death's words, we can almost guarantee that it will be to New York that they will pop out, the question is just why?" in Hermione

Harry crossed his arms in front of him and tapped lightly with his finger against his arm. "The voice said something about the Tesseract had awakened, and I saw a blue cube. Could that be it?" he asked

"Perhaps" Hermione was silent as she started to write again and line it up before them; neither Ron nor Harry dared to interrupt her now that she began to speed up her writing. "No, I can't see it; there are still so many dark areas," She mused out loud. "So many what if, I don't like this, isn't it anything else that you can tell me about this blue cube?" she turned to Harry that shook his head.

"Didn't think so, but what is bothering me is who can control Loki?" Harry said “And how”

"Are you sure that he was being controlled?" Ron hesitating asked, "Not to be biased or so, but you haven't seen each other for… many.. many years, eons even."

Harry gritted his teeth, nodding with a mix of determination and uncertainty. "I'm sure, but something's off. It didn’t feel like Loki; this doesn’t feel right," he said, striking his chest in frustration. "This connection we have, it's bound by magic, our magic is intertwined, yet right now... were not" Harry faltered, struggling to articulate the unsettling sensation gnawing at him. It was as if things were out of alignment, and despite the separation, someone seemed to be manipulating Loki.

"Bloody hell," Ron grunted out, "Any more world-shaking things we forgot to bring up while we're still discussing this?"

Harry looked at him, annoyed now by his statement, "Well, excuse me, the universe seems to hate that I exist."

"I'm pretty sure that it is only the Norns that hate you, mate, not the universe," Ron said helpfull

Harry snorted; that was probably true.

All of a sudden, it seemed like everything around Harry was moving in slow motion. He sensed it before witnessing a lightning-like shape dominating his vision. The next thing he noticed was the queasy sensation in his stomach and the bile rising in his throat, as if his insides were turning inside out.

A colossal blue shockwave blasted across Harry's sight, forcing a painful scream from deep within him. He crumpled to his knees, pressing his palms against his eyes, which felt as though they were ablaze. It was as if his eyes were burning out of their sockets, with waves of blue energy pulsating through his eyelids and seeping into every tiny crevice. He experienced a surge of satisfaction and the exhilaration of the hunt, emotions that weren't his own, and this time, they were even more intense.

"Harry!?"

"What happened? what did you see?"

"I….I think they come here with portal?" Harry said in a dark, raw voice, his magic stretched along with Loki via their connection, which now burned like fire, but he got no response. Just a thick wall, but something significant had just happened.

"That's it; you are not going to go there alone," Hermione said and picked up a hairband that Harry had forgotten on the table. She pulled up her hair in a messy bun

Ron groaned. "We have to get to New York, right now, aren’t we?"

The trio quickly gathered their things and made their way to the airport. Harry was grateful that Hermione had insisted on taking a muggle plane instead of apparating. He needed time to process everything that had happened and figure out what they were going to do next.

As they waited at the gate, Hermione pulled out her laptop and started researching flights to New York. They needed to get there as quickly as possible if they were going to rescue Loki.

"We should probably come up with a plan," Ron said, nibbling on a chocolate frog.

"Yes, we should," Hermione agreed, typing furiously on her laptop, which had been magical infused. An side projket she had been doing for a while. "We need to find out where Loki is being held and how we can get there without arousing suspicion."

Harry nodded, "And what about my connection with him? It's stronger than ever now, but I still can't seem to reach him."

"We'll figure it out," Hermione reassured him. "But for now, let's focus on getting to New York and gathering information."

.⬝:*¨¨*:⬝.💓.⬝:*¨¨*:⬝.

Harry glanced around the gate area. It was his first time at an airport, and he could feel his nerves buzzing inside him, trying to take over. Neither he nor Harald had ever been comfortable in large crowds or at parties; they had always preferred to stand aside and observe.

And here? This was indeed a massive crowd; even though no one paid him any attention, it made his skin tingle with discomfort, and he wanted nothing more than to escape. How had he ever thought this was a good idea, imagining that for once, something might be easy?

Initially, everything seemed straightforward when they planned it. Having grown up among muggles, Harry knew how to behave and dress appropriately. Ron, on the other hand, did not, which left Hermione struggling to manage her fiancé's barrage of questions and excitable behavior. Harry found it hard not to laugh at the situation, aware that he didn't want Hermione scowling at him for enjoying her efforts to maintain control. One thing was certain, though—Arthur would be envious when they returned from this trip. However, as Harry gazed out of the large window, he wasn't entirely sure if they would return at all.

How naive could he be? Amerika was halfway over the world; it would at least take them 10 hours to get there. It should all be so simple, pick up the passports, gets on a plane in their disguises, and then be on their merry ways and save his wayward dream-man.

But Harry was -still- silently freaking out inside.

Not only were they on a tight schedule, but he was also grappling with a surge of panic when he spotted one of the planes resting on the railroad. His wide green eyes were glued to the contraption that muggles referred to as an airplane. He was torn between awe and disbelief—how could something like that possibly stay aloft? It didn't seem aerodynamic enough to even lift off the ground, yet there it was, defying all logic.

Harry found himself teetering on the edge of asking Hermione if he could just take his broom and be done with it. The thought of setting foot in that death trap of a plane made his stomach churn; he already felt unstable enough without being thrown into a contraption that seemed to run on technology he barely trusted.

Yet, there was a small part of him that wondered if he was being unreasonable, if maybe he should face this fear. But the overwhelming dread kept pulling him back, whispering that it was just too much, too fast. So, he remained caught in indecision, torn between taking the easy route and confronting his apprehensions.

He felt an overwhelming urge to apologize to Loki, knowing full well that his words might not reach through the bond. Harry sensed Loki's presence, yet it was like trying to grasp smoke—there, but not quite tangible. The blockage in their combined magic was undeniable, leaving Harry to wonder if it was fueled by Loki's anger. Was Loki so upset that it created this barrier? Harry stifled a groan, torn between reaching out and fearing that Loki truly wanted nothing to do with him.

He had been an idiot when Harald had tried to stall the gigantic walking grapefruit that time. Perhaps he had made everything worse by going to New York; he should stay put, stay back in the mansion and never go out again; he could go for a run and visit the centaurs. Perhaps play a little with the foals and run freely and never get on that plane.

Harry could sense the invisible barrier within his mind beginning to compress, confining him as he pictured himself inside the cramped airplane cabin. A wave of vertigo swept over him, causing the world around him to whirl uncontrollably.

He reached out just in time, bracing himself with a trembling hand against the icy windowpane. The chill from the glass seeped through his palm, providing a tangible anchor amidst his swirling thoughts. He inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly, and then closed his eyes, allowing the cool sensation to spread through his fingertips. A shiver coursed through him as he tried to steady his racing mind.

Harry was acutely aware of the cold, sensing the smooth surface beneath his fingers, unlike the rough floorboards or the lumpy mattress he usually called a bed. He had spent more time here, and he was no longer confined under the stairs, cut off from the world. He wasn't the frightened little boy anymore, trapped in a confined space.

Yet, the urge to escape still surged within him, causing his heart to race and a cold sweat to form on his skin. He desperately wanted to flee from reality, from all his obligations, needs, and the uncertainties that clouded his life. He longed to feel secure, to be loved, to have his family close, and to learn how to relax without the constant fear that anyone might betray him.

Harry couldn't escape his luck and hated the lack of safety in his life. As the Master of Death, he couldn't die, but he could still feel pain. When his body failed, he'd always be brought back, just as Death had promised. Inside him, darkness thrived on his negative emotions and fears. Despite hating the world, Harry loved the sky—the freedom of flying, the wind in his hair, and the happiness it brought him.

But this was neither. The bloody thing in front of him was a death trap, and Harry never even wanted to put a foot inside one before as he had never been allowed to come with the Dursleys on their vacations. Now he was pleased about it because that would have been a nightmare come true.

Harry pressed his fist against the glass, then rested his forehead on it, not caring that he was smudging the spotless surface. The crowd around him paid no attention to him, and he was thankful for their tendency to avoid those who appeared troubled. Ignoring meant invisibility. In this moment, Harry appreciated this aspect of human behavior; he couldn't manage his anxiety if anyone questioned him about it.

Harry exhaled slowly and straightened up. He felt how his instincts and senses started to warn him about someone who was focusing its intention on him, and he turned around to see Hermione pull a hilariously enough, blonde wonderstruck Ron after her. Her steps were fast and determined, with her bag tossed over her shoulder and a light brown leather jacket fluttering every step she took. She had transformed her hair into a redder strawberry shade and put it up in a tight donut in her neck. None of them had any significant luggage to move around more efficiently, and Harry was not the type of person to splurge when it came to money.

But they had all agreed that they needed a disguise; Harry had not required much of his camouflage as he had already changed his appearance, thanks to his heritage. But his black hair was now up in a high ponytail, and the hippogriff feather was proudly stuck in the side braid that had not yet gone out. He fixed his clothes, tight trousers, and a shirt hidden under a light jacket. His eyes had already taken on a deep viridian color, no longer the emerald his mother had, and a little makeup over his scars and his disguise was complete. The more precautions, the better, and wouldn't Moody be proud of them now? Constant vigilance! No one would ever think he was Harry Potter if he did not make himself known.

But something never changed. Harry may not need his wand as the Master of the Deathly Hallows and reincarnated as a fae, but he still doesn't wholly trust the wandless strange magic to come to him effortlessly. So he still had his faithful wand tucked on his persona and a purse of money beside it that would automatically transform galleons to muggle valuta. He disliked spending money on things like this.

But when it came to other necessary things, he could consider it an investment, and this time he had bought something of a luxury item. Harry gripped his necklace with a resigned sight and felt the magic plush underneath his palm where his emergency trunk was hidden. It had cost a small fortune as it had its pocket dimension in it and with it everything he would need on this adventure.

Hermione had already booked flights from Heathrow Airport to LaGuardia in New York, and the flight would take ten hours. It feels too long, honestly. Harry tried again to stretch out over the magical connection yet again, only to be met by the now-familiar rock-hard wall. He felt hurt, there was so much anger inside him, and Harry was sure that it was not only his anger that was bubbling underneath his skin.

He was too familiar with the feeling of range, it was like the feeling was a long-time friend, and the more he was pushing down, the harder it pushed back. Sometimes it scared him, this darkness that was inside of him. But then he remembered that it was nothing to be afraid of, It was what hiding in the darkness you had to be wary of, and this time, it was his fears.

"Here you go," Hermione said and gave him his passport and ticket, and Harry stared down at it. He sighed and shook his head.

"I can't, Herms," He said firmly, and with the shifting face of the women, he explained himself before she could blow a gasket, "It is my magic…. I can't keep it under control."

"Yes, you can, we know that you can control it, Harry; you only need to believe in yourself. It is only for a few hours," She protested softly

Harry gave off a low chuckling. "But that is it. I don't believe that I will be fine in those tight spaces, Hermione," he said and looked at the plane again and shrugged. Nope, he still felt sick only by the sight of the death trap. He could not contain his magic. He clenched his fist, and a beeping sound was heard from the nearest machine made him glare at the device before Harry gave Hermione a meaningful glance.

Both his companions were silent at the pop, and a man in front of the display started to hit the now fried motto, and Hermione sighed heavily.

"Alright, then what?" she sounded tired, on the verge of annoyance, and Harry felt how he collapsed a little, but he really could not expose himself to that, or them. It had to be another way. He could not apparat over there, that would be too dangerous, and he indeed would cause more of a scene than anything else. A sting of pain hit his head, and he blinked in surprise when a memory suddenly came up.

~*`+'*~

Harald blinked at him slowly, "I beg your pardon, you do what now?"

Loki rolled his eyes, "Don't overreact; it is not that bad, starlight."

The smaller male raised an elegant brow and stared at the other magician, "And here I thought I heard you said that you used Yggdrasil as a backdoor into the other worlds."

Loki smirked. "You heard right, congratulation love, your hearing is still magnificent as ever."

Harald scoffed and crossed his arms in front of his chest, "Stop it, you idiot. You can't just go walking along the branches to other worlds; it is too dangerous, that is what Bifros is for anyway."

"It is not dangerous if you believe in it," he protested, still with that shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

Harald looked at him suspiciously as the black-haired prince smiled and held his hands clasped behind his back. "So, you found a shortcut in the world tree, and you can walk around it?

"Yes, love"

Harald wanted to say that it was impossible, but this was Loki they were talking about. If anyone could find a lope hole in anything, it was him. But this? world walking? That was another level of lope hole, and he would lie if he didn't say that he was curious about his mates' finding.

"Alright, show me."

Loki grin pleased, "With pleasure."

~*`+'*~

Harry blinked and stared in front of him, the memory disappeared as fast as it came, and he felt the dizziness that came after, but it was manageable and nearly non-existent. He did not faint or be gone for more than a few seconds; not even Hermione or Ron had noticed that anything had happened. Harry held back a pleased grin that could challenge Lokis.

"I think I know what to do," he said to them. "I remember Loki showing Harald how to walk on the world branches."

"bloddy hell mate, you remember what now?" It was Ron's turn to stare at him like he had lost his mind, and that was probably what had happened anyway.

"The Yggdrasil, the tree that is a legend to hold up the nine worlds, connecting them through branches and is powered by the universe…"

"Aah, alright, stop, stop. You don't need to go all professor on me; I bloody know what the tree is," Ron protested and glared slightly at Hermione as it was her fault that she forced him to read up on the Norse mythology after they understood that Harry once had been one. He swore that he would never pick up a book that complex ever again because reading about a species that once was thought of as gods were hard. But bloody hell, walk the branches? The book didn't say anything about that.

Harry laughed low and scratched his neck "right… "

"So, you think that you can do it? you are not exactly him, you know," Hermione intervened before Ron could say anything else." And can you take us with you?

"Yeah, I believe that I can; it is more like finding the feeling and seeing the portals," And he was going to make it one way or the other; there was no way he even stepped on the plane like that if he could help it. But he shook his head to Hermione's last question. "I don't know right now, and I would not want to risk it. I need to do it the first time alone to get the feeling of it all. Come on guys, I will meet you up at the airport in no time, I will scoop out the surroundings, and we are ready to go as soon as you land. Trust me"

"Alright, mate" Ron put an arm around Hermione's shoulders, he was hesitant too, but if Harry thought he could do it, then he would. That said, Ron had stopped being amazed at what his best mate could do. It was easier that way, and he would not be gray before he is 30, "We will trust you on this,"

Hermione was still staring at him, and Harry firmly raised his head; he could do this.

"Alright, but If you are not there when we land, Harry James Potter, I swear that I will make your life a living hell, and that is a promise," She threatened

Harry laughed softly and heard them shouting through the loudspeakers that it was time for them to board the plane, and he put on his passport and tickets. "See you when you arrive."

If he were lucky, nothing would happen. He saw them both disappear into the crowd and exhaled before he wiped his sweaty hands on his shirt. He needed to find a quiet place where no people were moving around.

It took a while, but he managed to find a less used part of the airport. Chairs had been screwed up from the ground, and dirt smiled under some seats. It looked like part of the wall needed repairing, and maybe that's why it was deserted here? Harry looked around and slipped under the barrier. He already had a Not- me-not spell on him so that no muggles eyes got stuck on him but rather looked past.

But to be on the safe side, he slipped into a toilet and looked around, the light turned on automatically when he went in, and empty booth doors stood wide open, so he was sure there was no one there. He shook his hands when he felt them begin to tremble with excitement. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. A hand was raised in front of him, and he tried to imagine the opening, tried to feel it. And as soon as Harry could the magic around him, the energy more or less vibrated under his fingertips.

He could see the golden threads that enveloped reality, and he tried to concentrate on it when his head exploded, and the darkness was all around him. He could feel the sickening feeling of something creeping down his throat, soft and gooey, and he wanted nothing else than to throw up. Harry blinked; he was sure that he was still awake, and his eyes were opened, but he no longer saw the bathroom's white walls.

Instead, he could see soft dust of snow flying around in a dark world and suddenly feel the biting cold nibbled at his cheeks. It took him only a heartbeat to understand that he no longer was in England; he was with Loki. Not in body, but still, he was there with the other magician, seeing what he was seeing, feeling what he was feeling. Harry's gaze was quickly fixed on the first movement he could see in the dark.

"The Chitauri grows anxious," The dark clothed man said

The man's voice came from all directions simultaneously, hoarse, trailing, and above all, it was so cold. It was as if every word was chosen and dripped with impatience, the suffocating feeling tightened at his throat, and he grimaced and rubbed his neck only to stiffen and stare down at his transparent hand. His head rose when a familiar figure suddenly stepped out of the shadows. His attitude just as he remembered, proud, and dignified as only a person of high birth learned. The jet black hair was stripped and pulled slick back; his eyes were like two black poles, no longer holding the warmth he had grown used to.

"I'm going to lead them to a glorious battle" Loki's voice cut through Harry's body like a razor; it was a tone completely different from the one he remembers from the memories.

He was allowed to hold back and not throw himself forward in pure joy and horror when he finally took in his dream man's face and hated what he saw. He had never seen Loki like this; his entire face was suddenly tense with a wave of underlying anger in his features. As if his face frowned too much. He could see twitches himself through his arms and a slight crick in his neck. His face looked awful, and his cheeks were more sunken and created a sharper cheekbone. Loki, overall, seemed hard and worn, not even close to the young, handsome man in from his memories.

How long had he been gone for Loki to fall this far? What had happened, and why had Thor not been there and protected him? It was so clear that something was wrong that it cut into him. Harry stretched his magic again, almost desperate to feel that this was his Loki, that it was not too late.

Loki...

Green-blue eyes were suddenly fixed on him; for a second, they were looking at him in amazement before it disappeared, and a deep frown married Lokis face yet again.

"…. and your question is? Questioning the one who put that scepter in your hand?" The unnamed man asked with a drawl out voice.

Loki maintained a stoic expression, his features carved from stone, as he fixed his gaze on the person who had spoken with that grating voice. Though his face remained impassive, a storm brewed within him, each word feeding his growing irritation and simmering anger. Shadows seemed to gather at his feet, swirling subtly, and his eyes deepened to a stormy gray, reflecting the tempest in his soul.

"He who gave you new knowledge, new intentions, when you were defeated and left to die."

"I was a king! The rightful King of Asgard, and they betrayed ME," Loki shouted and struck out with his hand violently; this creature doubted him? Doubted that he could not carry out his mission. He would show them everything; he would show them all that he could do anything better than anyone else could even dream of. He would show them that Loki of Asgard was still the rightful king, and then he would free them all from their weak will.

"Your ambition is scarce and childish .... We look beyond the Earth, to the greater world, the new world that the tesseract reveals…" The dark armored man walked forward, threatening and staring down at Loki, who stared back stubbornly, but no words left his lips when he bared his teeth in a sneer.

Harry stared at the interaction before him and had now noticed a shift in Loki's skin, it almost took on an abnormal light blue tone, barely visible in the dim light, and he first thought his eyes were playing a prank on him. The energy around Loki was different; it was cold and more primal when he pulled his lips back in an almost feral snarl.

"If you fail, of the Tesseract is kept from is, there will be no realm, no barren moon, no writing where you can forget yourself from us. You think you feel pain? You do not even know what the word means."

The dark man disappeared, Leaving Loki and Harry there alone. Slowly Harry could see how the tension leaked away from Loki's shoulders, and his blue eyes slowly turned around to where Harry was, and yet, he could not focus on him.

"I know that you are still here, phantom, even if I can't see you," Loki's cold and smooth voice said. "Did you enjoy the show? here to gloat like everyone else is doing these days?"

No, I would never Loki... I'm...

Harry immediately saw that Loki heard him; his eyes narrowed dangerously, and the horrible snarl was back on his face. "Do not speak to me like we are familiar; you are beneath me. Now BE GONE!"

The next second, strong blue magic hit Harry, and he gasped for breath as he was tossed away and back into his body. He gasped for breath, and every breath burned like a thousand needles, and his head screamed at the sudden backlash he got from the magic. Harry staggered and grabbed the sink and gasped for air. His head ached, and his heartbeat almost painfully. The cold that spread within him made his whole body shake. What the hell was that? Harry shook his head slightly to get rid of the cotton-like feeling that resided between his ears, and his muscles protested in the movement.

It took a while, but slowly the tremors began to subside, and his breathing became more manageable. The lights above him flashed as if they were about to explode and go off, and Harry was more than happy with his decision to go to an abandoned part. He exhaled slowly before straightening. His gaze was fixed on his reflection, and he could see how his eyes shone in a sickening light blue hue before he forced himself to blink, and they were green yet again.

At least two things were inevitable, he had gotten in touch with Loki for the first time, and Loki had absolutely no idea who he was. Harry had not had a chance to tell him either. But he was also sure that whatever Loki was planning on doing, time was short; And Harry was pretty sure that they did not have 10 hours before whatever Loki planned would happen; it would happen tonight, whatever he was planning on doing.

Harry let his hands fall from the sink and shook them to stimulate the blood flow; he was determined to succeed. There was no way he would abandon Loki to that lunatic. With renewed focus, Harry lifted his hand, feeling the energy in the air, and gently threaded his fingers through the golden strands, pulling his hand down softly.

He concentrated on where he wanted to create a pocket, watching as the air before him shimmered and seemed to split open. In the portal, he saw a space identical to the one he occupied, though the walls were a dreadful mint green, and it was deserted. Taking one final deep breath, Harry held it in and stepped through the portal, vanishing from the now-deserted bathroom as the gateway closed behind him.

Chapter Text

There was no doubt about it anymore; how could he keep on ignore it? The fact was staring him right in his face! It almost made Harry laugh, and he would have done that if his mouth was not firmly shut to keep the vile bile down from his stomach that was rebelling against him.

He hated to travel by any magical means.

Harry could genuinely admit he despised this with an intensity rivaling the fires of Helheim. Like all forms of magical travel, it made him nauseous. If he had to describe it, world-walking felt akin to being tossed into a washing machine, then spun out and hung to dry. Add to that delightful sensation the experience of dropping from 10,000 feet in free fall between the wash, and dry cycles.

Yeah, he could with certainty say he hated this.

As soon as his feet touched the ground, Harry had tumbled out of the portal as the gravity tripped him over, and he ended up kissing the ground. Harry held back a giggling sound that threatened to come out as the ruse of success invaded him in between the strange feelings. It was almost like he had been stepping on some kind of foam as soon as he had entered the pathway. His feat had been steadily moving forward, but at the same time, it felt like they were made of sponges. And that said something about the whole experience, especially as he only had to take two steps through the opening before landing on the ground in what he believed was New York airport.

Harry's whole world spun, and he forced his head between his legs in a weak attempt to ground himself. Yep, this was it. He would kill Loki when he got his hand on him; there was no way that the trixter would have forgotten to tell him that little detail. But on the bright side, now Harry knew that magic transport in any forms had, and probably would never agree with him.

As his head finally stopped spinning, Harry felt that he once again got a nice grip on reality. He swallowed the horrible taste that had invaded his mouth before he rose to his feet and breathed out. Harry closed his eyes. He could feel the difference in the energy swirling around him, clashing on to his senses like waves on a beach. It was foreigner, yet it still had that same tingling feeling as it had in England.

Was it so that this same energy connected the world? If he had wanted to travel to another realm, could he do it this way? It is said that there was the book of Mimes, a grimoire that explained the connection in more detail. But from what Harry could dig out from Harald's memories, he knew that there were two known types of connections between the nine realms, thanks to the Yggdrasil.

One was a direct connection, like a teleportation method with one door that could open and close at will to any place the opener wanted. The user needed to know how to open up the portal and direct the energy to where it had to go. It was probably this connection that Loki had stubble on in his youth as he h. Loki had called it a 'shortcut,’ but it was more like an unstable connection between realms that he could use.

Harry remembered vague that it had something to do with the world's ley lines and energy in question. Both Harald and Loki had been creatures of magic so that they could tap into that kind of power. The question was if any Æsir could tap into the energy with training, or was it perhaps a trait that only Seið could inherit?. But he had never heard any of the other do this, not even the all-mother that was seen as one of the most skilled Seið Harald had known at that time.

But both Harald and Loki could do it apparently without a problem; was it perhaps a Seiðmannir thing. Not that there were many of them, to begin with, and there were not many scholars that could see it as a benefit to try and find the long lost grimoire of Mimers. Especially not when practicing magic was considered to be a feminine trait and considered unmanly.

Not that it had ever stopped Harald's parents to love him any less or shun him for it, yet, sadly, the same could not be said by Loki's position back on Asgard. He remembered that another functional path, the second option to use the pathways, was a more indirect energy connection.

The Bifrost.

It had only one permanent foci point that could open a temporary portal to any destination of the guardians' choosing. Once the portal had faded, usually within seconds after arrival, it could not be summoned directly, and it required a cool-down period.

But there was also a catch. If the permanent connection had lost its stability and foci point, only dark magic could reactivate the link. And the more time between arrival and departure, the more dark magic required to open back up at the same origin if the foci were not there and directing it.

There was a reason why dark magic was forbidden. But not even Loki knew what the fallout of using that kind of magic would be. Besides, only the Allfather was known to have the power to control the amount of dark magic needed to force that connection open.

Not that this was anything Harry had to worry about in the near future. The Bifrost was not going to break, and the Asgardians would still find an excuse to throw a banquet to drink. Nevertheless, if Heimdale was watching over the nine realms, why hadn't Asgard done anything to stop Loki or even send Thor to stop him before this whole thing was going out of hand?

That made Harry pause; why hadn't Asgard done something about this mess? He looked up and into his reflection in the dirty mirror, and he could see how his pupils dilated, and a strange feeling invaded his chest as another question popped up. Why had Thanos got his hand on Loki in the first place, and how could he control him? Loki was a prince of Asgard, for Merlin's sake. There was no way someone could walk into the halls and poison Loki's mind without anyone's notice and then deem him a mad man without finding any proof of it.

Harry stared at his reflection as the fact sunk in; he gritted his teeth hard together as the slow simmering anger that was starting to boil underneath his skin, the darkened feelings started slipping into his mind. Like snakes that slithered over his memories and brought with them cold and hatred. Harry suddenly felt how the emotion snapped; the sound of shattering shards of the mirror evaded his senses as it fell into hundred small pieces.

The pain spread through him and snapped his consciousness right back, and he cradled the now bleeding hand closer to his chest as he stared at the broken mirror. This feeling that invaded him was not coming from him. Whatever this darkness was, it came from over the connection, from Loki.

Harry hissed and sent a silent ‘repairo’ on the mirror that leaped itself together, and he looked down at his bleeding hand and decided to let it be. He needed the raw feeling of pain to ground him at this moment. Whatever is going on with Loki right now is making the connection flare, and it was almost like it was trying to drag him away from his mind.

But to not raise any questions over the blood that was dripping down his hand, he at least made the wound coagulate itself, and he looked over the raw lines so that there was no glass in it. When he found none, he turned around and walked out of the bathroom.

There was nothing he could do here, and besides, he had a shit-ton of things on his to-do list before Ron and Hermione was due. He pulled a hand through his hair, which had now been completely released from prison. The midnight black hair framed his face as he tied it up in a messy man-bun, his hands trembling as he did.

Whoever it was that was messing with Loki, Thanos, or anyone else, would not be spared if he had anything to say about it. There was nothing, nothing, that could be done to make him forgive whoever had poisoned his mates' mind; he would get his revenge. But one thing at the time, first, he needed to find that trickster god, then he could go off on his vendetta crusade.

Harry looked around as he noticed more people walking in a hurry and talking loudly to each other. He could see a big screen above his head telling everyone when a plane would land and lift, so he noticed the same flight that Ron and Hermione were on would not be here anytime soon. Harry went over to the nearest information point and picked up a free brochure, and map and began to look them over.

Honestly, Harry had always wanted to travel around and do some sightsing. And America had always been at the top of his list. Everyone had talked about the big country over the sea and said that you had to visit it at least once in your lifetime. But after all of this, perhaps he could go elsewhere? to bring Loki with him so that they could...talk things out… Maybe Los Angeles, or Nova scotia? he had heard that that place was beautiful this time of the year.

Harry looked down at the map. It would take Ron and Hermione around 10 hours or so, and if there was one thing Harry knew, it was that there was no way in the nine realms he could stay put for that long. Harry nibbled on his thumb as his head was filled with all kinds of different possibilities and thoughts.

He needed to figure out what to do right now. What if something more had happened to Loki than that darkness that was leaking over the connection. What if this invasion were to occur before they had a chance to stop him? What if he was not strong enough to help Loki? Harry immediately shook his head at that thought; even if he weren't, he would do everything he could anyway.

But one thing was for sure; he would not be able to wait here. He had never been a person to sit and stare into the wall; if his body could not work, then his brain would take over. And the last thing he wanted was to be left alone with only his thoughts and memories as his company.

Harry mentally snorted at his thoughts as he walked among the muggles. It was not a bad thing; honestly, he suddenly could process a lot of information simultaneously. It was like his brain had upgraded to a Harry 2.0 version or something, probably after his 'awakening,' but then again, it did not matter. There still were too many 'what if' for his liking. It was like opening up a Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. You never knew what you were going to get before you chewed on it, and then it was too late to do anything about it.

He rubbed his neck as he suddenly felt a glance directed at him. Harry let his viridian green eyes sweep over the miller of muggles. His gaze landed on a group of women who, as soon as he looked at them, they turned away with low gasps and looked at each other, tittering. Harry frowned a little awkwardly and withdrew, the feeling of someone looking at him swept over him yet again as he did. Maybe he should put on a disguise? What if someone had recognized him already and was on their way to the government?

In the end, Harry decided against it and only used a simple notice-me-not. Suddenly his magic started to tingle without warning, and soon after, there was a pull on the connection that made him jerk to the side in both surprise and pain. It was like Loki was there one second and then gone the next one, and it was sending his core into a frenzied fit. Like Loki was calling on him, and then second-guessed himself and slammed it shut again.

And that's another thing Harry had to figure out. What had happened to split their connection like this? what held them together from the beginning? If he was the reincarnation of Harald, why had it all happened right now and not before? And why had his memories been like it was? Coming and going as it wanted. Even now, Harry could feel how broken his mind was, how it almost felt like his soul still was not whole. Not his to use.

His magic itched all over his body, and he could not get rid of the feeling of danger that was rising inside of him. Harry turned towards the exit; he could easily get back in good time before their plane landed. And besides, he could search for useful information and maybe see if he found any clues to what was happening.

With a determined smile, he let his feet take him out of there, and as soon as the automatic glass doors closed behind him. A whole new world opened up to him. At least that was how it felt for him. After staying away from people or significant places in general after the war, London was the only 'big' city he had any experience comparing New York.

So there was absolutely nothing that could prepare him for the sight that met him outside the airport's protective doors. As soon as he was out, he started to walk. The sound of engines was everywhere. Some people argued and shouted at each other, and then another held up their hand to call a taxi.

Harry decided he could start his search more quickly if he took the bus into the big city. Yet, as he stared at the transportation, he could not help to hesitate for just a second. He was not stupid, he knew how the thing worked, but there was a difference between knowing the theoretical aspect of things and the hands-on life experience. And the knowledge he had with busses, as the Dursleys never gave him any money to ride one before, was the knight bus. And that particular magical transportation had not made a great impression on him; it had been quite a bumpy ride.

Inside, the bus was crowded with muggles, and the air was almost suffocating with a strange smell that made his already rebellious stomach cringle again. He swiped his eye over the masses before he sat down on an empty seat.

Harry felt a cold shiver sweep along his spine, and his eyes narrowed as a shiver traveled through him. He fixed his gaze on the outside world as he tried to sense anything else, but he could only registries a flicker of magic that licked his skin the wrong way. But perhaps it was not his feelings? He had felt the broken connection with Loki open and close all afternoon, and he could still feel that sucking feeling behind his navel.

What the hell was Loki doing? But as the bus rolled away, he felt the feeling of being watched dimmed yet again. As the bus crossed a large bridge, Harry could see how the city grew in front of him, and the feeling was now completely gone like it never had been there, and that almost made Harry freak out. It was better to feel something than this numbness that was setting in.

Muggles littered the side-walks as they went about their day, motor vehicles were pressed together like sardines in a box, he could see people shouting at each other and making crude hand gestures when someone forced themselves into a tight spot.

Still, he was not letting his guard down, and he could not enjoy his first glimpse of the large high-rise buildings that welcomed them. The more central the bus went, the bigger the billboards and neon signs became. Muggles adorned every little road on their way to or from their destinations. Harry followed the stream of people with his gaze before pushing himself against the window and trying to see the top of the large high-rise building with a small smile.

Suddenly he could feel the cold sweat break out on the nape of his neck, and he instinctive stiffened. They had been traveling without stopping for a while now, and he knew that this was not his anxiety taking, and this time there was no reaction from Loki. So it had to be his instincts, warning him about an immediate danger.

The question was who or what was making his magic go on to high alert. Harry's hand came to rest on his wand, his skin had now started to crawl, and his muscles shivered. Harry stared down at his arms and frowned at his behavior. It was like his senses knew something he did not and tried to warn him.

He could not stay on the bus; here, he would be a sitting duck. Not only that, all the muggles would get in the way. So at the next stop, he jumped off and quickly joined the stream of people without any other thought. The smell of greasy food hit his now highlighted scenes, exhaust fumes and perfume stood out in the crowd as he threw a new wandless notice-me-not.

Harry could feel the intensity of his magic increase and swear low. Harry pushed past people, and some shouted angrily after him but went ignored. Was it perhaps MACUSA? But Harry shot down that through fast; it could not be them. He had not used his wand here, and it was the wand magic the government usually tracked. And as he didn't take an international portkey, there was no apparent disturbance of him have popped up here under their radar.

But still, the fact that someone was following him.

Harry could feel a headache start to build behind his eyes as his sensors were beginning to overload, but he needed to do this if he would have a chance to catch whoever was following him. Could he perhaps apparate? No, that was too dangerous in an area like this; and then he would surely draw the attention to him after that. And if it were not MACUSA that was not aware that he was here by then, they would be if hid did that.

Harry's breathing turned rough as he slowly inhaled and exhaled, trying to find out what the hell was going on. He put a hand on his chest and pressed it hard into the fabric, it was like his body had a mind of his own, and his mind lacked control. But he could not continue like this.

He looked out on the muggles again and whiled his heart to slow down, forcing his body to relax, breathe. He could hear talking and laughing, someone was arguing nearby and could listen to snippets of news anchors talking about a team of superheroes in Germany.

His stalker was close.

Harry swore softly and went out into the crowd of muggles again; he had to get the hell out of here and fast. He started to walk with more force and ignored if he bumped into more people by doing so. He turned into a larger opening between the buildings and opened up into a large indoor shopping center.

This was not what he had planned when he set out to find information. Damn his Potter luck; this was the last thing he needed. Why did fate hate him so? Harry walked as fast as he could to get through it all when a sudden shock went through him, and he spun around quickly with wide-open eyes. His hand quickly pulled his wand, ready to protect itself from the danger that suddenly appeared right behind him.

Murphy suddenly proved his right yet again, as his law rang true even to this moment, what could go wrong, would.

And In his case, the whole situation was spiraling down fast beyond worse. He felt how his magic boiled underneath his skin, and it was a wonder that he had not lost control over it yet.

Harry clenched his jaws hard as his eyes landed on the only person sticking out like a sore thumb around the other muggles. He could feel the dark energy fall out of her, enveloping her, and made the surroundings around her lithe body much colder and darker. The woman was wearing an elegant and guaranteed expensive black pencil skirt that matched her curvy body shape. A white blouse was elegantly tucked into the waistband, a black jacket hung around her shoulders, and was only buttoned under her breasts.

Her hair was tightly set in a bun around her neck, and around her neck hung a beautiful piece of gold jewelry. She was what one could call an exotic beauty, and Harry had no idea who she was. But this was the source that had been following him and made his magic go haywire. The light blue eyes now stared straight into his and a smile spread on her blood-red lips, made Harry's blood freeze in his veins.

The pain inside his brain suddenly spiked, and Harry could only feel the dread invade his very soul. He -knew- this woman; he knew exactly who she was and why his instincts had warned him about her.

The realization made his tongue swell in his mouth, and not a single sound managed to leave his vocal cords, and he closed his eyes when he felt how his magic was thrown out of him. TV screens in the shop windows began to flicker, and people looked annoyed at their phones when they stopped working all of a sudden, and glass panes began to shake.

Suddenly it was like everything was too loud around him. Harry could hear every freaking thing, and the light was almost blinding as his magic spiked, making everything around them explode. People started to scream in fright, feet were running away from the impact, and the sparkling of the electronics' fried circuits made a dramatic conclusion to the chaos around them.

Harry tried to get the air down his lungs, but it felt like they had turned to stone together with his body that refused to move even an inch. He could only stare at the woman that was now studying him with a curious look that soon turned into a darker. Like all the color was drained from them and amusement turned cold. There was no doubt about it; his instincts and magic recognized the threat she posed to him without Harry himself realizing it.

"Well, would you look at that" the woman's voice was smooth and had an undertone that Harry could only compare to small bells. If he had not had such a bad story with her, he would indeed have found it pleasant.

Now it only sent painful flashes along his nerves.

"I knew you were alive; how could I not?" The woman continued as she had not noticed the state her appearance had left Harry in. She took a step forward, And Harry felt how his boy suddenly, automatically moved back to put more distance between them.

"I felt your magic come from Loki hours ago, I'm still surprised that it was leaked through him, but I'm glad that it did."

Harry could taste the fear on the tip of his tongue, and he had never felt this kind of dread before. It was like his heart was trying to explode inside his chest; not even when he walked to his death at Voldemort's hand had he felt like this. This was a completely different fear. It went more profound; it was rooted in his very soul.

The woman stopped, and the smile suddenly showed a row of perfect white teeth as she took in his reaction and chuckled.

“What is this? Are you afraid of little old me? ” She tilted her head to the side and put a finger to her chin as she was thinking about something.

Harry took a deep breath, trying to control his fear as he spoke through gritted teeth.

"I have every reason to be afraid of you," he said, his voice shaking slightly. "You've caused so much pain and destruction in my life."

The woman's smile widened, and she chuckled again. "Oh, I'm flattered that you remember me so well," she said. "But I can assure you, I had nothing to do with the pain and destruction in your life."

Harry's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "I find that hard to believe," he said. "You were always there, lurking in the shadows, manipulating events behind the scenes."

The woman's smile faltered for a moment before returning full force. She took another step forward, and Harry stepped back again.

"I understand why you might think that," she said smoothly. "But I assure you, all I wanted was to help you."

"Help me?" Harry scoffed. "By using me as a pawn in your twisted games? By forcing me into a situation that almost cost me my life?"

The woman's expression turned cold at Harry's words. "I did what I had to do for the greater good," she said.

"The greater good?" Harry repeated, anger bubbling up inside him. He couldn't believe this woman had the audacity to stand there and try to justify her actions.

"Yes," the woman said firmly. "Everything I did was for a purpose; everything had a reason."

"I don't care about your reasons," Harry spat out. "All I know is that because of you, innocent people suffered."

The woman's eyes narrowed at Harry's words. "You don't understand the bigger picture," she said darkly. "You're quite difficult to eliminate, aren't you, dear Harald? You're like one of those Earth creatures, a cockroach, right? Yes, a cockroach, refusing to stay put and be squashed." She shook her head, her hair bobbing with the motion. "You should have remained dead; it would have been far better for you. But then again, I'm aware that my master found your... trickery quite impressive." She grimaced as if tasting something unpleasant.

Harry tried to open his mouth to repeat something, anything, but nothing came out of his vocals. He could feel the walls closing up upon him. The tingling in his limbs was increasing; it felt like a thousand needles stuck into his skin, every little nerve agitated, and an unnatural wind began to circulate him. His eyes had assumed an almost neon green hue, and suddenly his magic pulsed outward more strongly than ever before.

The woman's eyes widened in shock as Harry's magic pulsed around him. She took a step back, her confident facade starting to falter.

"What is this?" she hissed, her voice laced with fear. This was not Harald original magic, it was something more "What are you?"

Harry didn't answer; he was too focused on controlling his magic, which seemed to have a mind of its own. But deep down, he couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at seeing the woman who had caused him so much pain now cowering before him.

"You should have left me alone," Harry said, his voice low and dangerous. "You should have let me live my life without meddling in it yet agagin."

The woman's expression turned from fear to anger as she straightened up and regained some of her confidence.

"You insolent little brat!" she spat out. "I will not be spoken to in such a manner! I am far more powerful than you could ever imagine!"

With that, she raised her hand and sent a dark blast of energy towards Harry. But Harry was ready for it; on top of the war, he had been trained by some of the best witches and wizards, and he quickly deflected the attack with a shield charm.

The woman's eyes narrowed as she realized that this would not be an easy fight. She started to send more spells at Harry, but he was able to dodge them all with ease while sending his own spells back at her.

It was like an intricate dance; they moved around each other, casting spells and blocking spells in an epic battle of light and dark magic.

But despite the intensity of the fight, Harry could feel himself gaining the upper hand. His magic seemed to be responding to his every thought and desire, giving him strength and speed beyond what he thought possible.

"If it were up to me, you would be dead before your pretty head could even know what happened," Sigrud sneered as windows exploded outwards; people were now screaming out in the street and was running around from the new invisible threat. The light above them blew out with a simple pulse of his magic, and the women laughed, delighted by the show that was happening in front of her.

“What is this? you have always been one for dramatics but did a cat got your tongue? "She looked at him amused, ignoring the chaos around them. " Are you not even going to say anything to me, sweetie?"

But Harry remained silent, his mind solely focused on defeating this woman who had caused him so much pain and suffering. He could feel the power surging through him, pulsing in time with his heartbeats.

"You can't defeat me, little boy," the woman taunted, sending a burst of dark energy towards Harry. But he was ready for it; his magic swirling around him as he deflected the attack with ease.

Harry compelled himself to inhale deeply as his mind felt disconnected from his body. Gradually, he regained his composure. He was no longer Harald; he was Harry, the boy who survived and emerged victorious from a war. He could deal with the deranged woman he once considered family; he wouldn't let her prevail.

"Even that husband of yours was more fun to look at as he struggled with his insanity."

Harry blinked. What?

"Oh? a reaction!" the woman grinned delightedly. "Yes, yes, of course! you both are so tightly bonded to each other." her smile turned more deadly. "I remember how he pleaded for your, etch night as he was plagued with nightmares. Begging you not to leave him, to stay,to live" she sighed. " you broke his fragile heart."

"What... have you done?" Harry forced out.

The woman's grin widened as she continued her taunting. "Oh, nothing really. Just a little push here and there to send him over the edge."

Harry's heart clenched at the thought of Loki being tormented by this woman's dark magic and action. He could feel the anger bubbling inside him, fueling his magic even more.

"You're sick," Harry spat, sending a powerful spell towards her. But she easily deflected it with a flick of her wrist.

"Is that all you've got?" she mocked, sending another spell towards Harry.

But he was ready for it this time; his shield charm holding strong against her attack. He could feel the intensity building between them, their magic clashing in an explosive display.

"You know, I always found you fascinating," the woman said with a hint of admiration in her voice as they continued to duel. "You have so much power within you, yet you still cling to your morals and your precios misfit”

"Loki is not a misfit!" Harry insisted, his eyes alight with determination. "He was and always will be my family." Regardless of how long he had been away or whether Loki would even acknowledge Harry, in Harry's eyes, he would always see Loki as family.

"Foolish child," the woman scoffed, sending another barrage of spells towards Harry. "Family is just another weakness for me to exploit."

Harry gritted his teeth and pushed back against her attacks with all his might. He refused to let this woman hurt anyone else that he cared about.

"I have to thank you thou, without your so-called sacrificed, I would never have the chance to saw the seed of insanity into him."

It felt like the air inside his lungs was now also turned to ice. Each breath was forced out, raw and painfully. He could not let her words get to him. Loki was alive; they could fix this. Whatever she had done, they could fix it.

Probably.

"Tell me where Loki is, Sigrud," Harry heard himself say like they were not his own words. He moistened his dry lips. He could handle this. Everything was different this time; he was no longer the same.

Sigrud laughed at his words, "And pray tell, why would I do that?" she asked, crossing her arms under her breasts. "You are not going to get to him either way."

Harry felt how his head started to come back more, and he gained control over his mind and body. "No more games," his wand was now held in front of him, ready to blast her into oblivion,

The smile vanished from the lips of the black-haired beauty, halting just before it was entirely gone, leaving a shadow of menace. "I never play games," Sigrud declared with a casual shrug that belied the gravity of the situation, "I only make an observation, and you, are in a dire position." The vast emptiness of the mall enveloped them, the silence broken only by the wailing sirens that echoed ominously through the shattered window, yet both remained indifferent to the chaos outside.

“Says who? I'm no longer the one I was before,” Harry shot back, the words came now more freely, and he no longer was stuck inside his fears. He could do this; he had to.

"Oh, I can see that '' Sigrud held out her hand, and Harry could see a spell was forming in her magic.

"But it matters little. You are still going to die at my hand after I get what I need " Sigrud smile deepened into a disgusting sneer.

Harry was ready to get over with this whole damn thing and get Loki from wherever he was. And When he did, he would give that god a piece of his mind for all the trouble he had found him in. But before Harry could even think of an own spell or even an action to take, his head started to throb in pain and the sucking feeling he had been feeling for a while now ached up inside his stomach.

His whole world is suddenly turned upside down and inside out simultaneously as he felt the second heart beating in his chest, and all air went out of his lungs as the attack from Sigrud came tower him fast. Harry made his body dodge it but, at that moment, lost his footing and tumbled away. He could feel how Loki's magic enveloped him. It called to him like nothing before, and he now recognized the warning that the feeling gave him about what would happen.

Harry's eyes widened in shock at the wrong timing, no, no, no, this could not be happening right now.

Harry took a staggering step back and brought a hand up to his head to try to prevent what he knew was coming. Loki could not be serious; he could not do it right now. Harry tried to hold his wand in front of him and tried to fire a spell to duel his aunt as she now had started to shoot at him again.

He tried to ignore the soul calling his mate was doing. He felt terrible for doing it, but this was possibly the worst possible moment to even go soul searching for Loki or whatever it was called. But Harry had never felt this powerful attraction before, this painful plea for stability, for something to hold on to, to make him whole again. It was a mental pain that made his stomach turn in and out.

Harry could not remember if he was vomiting or not, but the taste invaded his tongue in any case, and his vision darkened. It was as if his magic was screaming at him for something that could remove this pain that was pulsating in his tired body. Another flash of pain, and this time his vision went white. Harry took a step back, his body feeling lighter, and with a shaky sight, he tried to focus on the danger in front of him, but the pull was getting harder and harder to resist.

Before Harry knew it, he had fallen to the ground, and the last thing he saw was a pair of red high-heeled shoes walking towards him, and a mischievous laugh echoed in his ears. And the final thought he had was that Hermione would kill him If he survived this whole situation, and then the darkness closed around him, and he fell into the connection of his soul mate calling.

Chapter Text

It started as a typical day.

Or at least, it should have been a typical, ordinary day - a day like any other day.

It should have been a wonderful day of scheming and dreaming of all the glory he soon would obtain. It was a simple plan, play distraction for the simpletons, and then the grand victory would be within his reach. And yet, there was a pain shooting through Loki now was almost unbearable.

Loki tried not to let it show on his face, and so far, he had succeeded in that particular matter. Not that anyone would care to notice what was going on with him anyway, they had all made that painfully clear the last time he had seen his so-called family, and he had never really had any friends among the Asgardians. Perhaps he had played a little too rough with them in his childhood? But they were all weaklings anyway.

Although, the fact that he had magic and chose it as his primary weapon had put his very existence at the bottom of the food chain from the beginning. It had always been acceptable to treat him however people liked - he was fair game - even Odin had turned away from him; he had never been good enough. Never worthy of any kind word or praise. Never anything like Thor.

Pain shot through him again, making Loki's whole frame stiffen; his face was painted with a blank expression, and it felt like a small piece of his soul was slowly dying inside of him. As if someone were plucking the petals out from a flower, counting their blessings with every pull.

He knew this feeling; how could he ever forget? It was the feeling of love that had become a lost cause, the joy he once had felt like a ray of hope and sunshine becoming a burning agony that scorched his already broken soul - begging him to break down. To crumble underneath the darkness that was threatening to overtake his mind.

But he tried to hold it in, not letting go of the last bit of control he had in this entire situation, yet it was getting harder and harder as he felt the pain crawl up inside his chest. Loki took a deep breath subconsciously. Sometimes he wondered what the point of even trying was. The darkness before his eyes started to swirl around like it was alive. Dancing as the humans on the other side of the glass cage milled around like tiny ants.

Honestly, Loki couldn't remember when everything had all started going wrong; he didn't remember when he had stopped eating unless someone reminded him or forced the food into his hands. He couldn’t remember when everything had started to turn into ash in his mouth. Once, his memory had been flawless; now... Now he had trouble distinguishing between what was real and what was only in his head.

A blue light shimmered over his field of view and then disappeared again. Did it matter? It had all started a long time before Thanos walked into his life with a hard to refuse the offer of power and world domination. But it was like he was missing something, something important, and Loki could not for the life of him remember what it was; every time he tried, it slipped through his fingers like water. It was like it had been cut from his very soul, and no matter what he did, nothing could fill the void that was eating up his soul.

Loki knew that he was broken, broken with betrayal, broken with distrust, and most of all, broken with the burning hate for a foe he could no longer remember. It was like the pieces no longer fitted together, almost like someone had used a burning dagger to sever him from reality, like a rotten branch of a tree that no longer was needed.

And it hurt.

The cold, biting feeling that nipped at his lungs and the stabbing in his heart spread pain through his body. It took everything he had to try and maintain the act he had so carefully laid out for everyone to see, and they all had swallowed it - hook, line, and sinker. But he could not, for the love of everything good in the world, remember what had happened. It felt like he was at the breaking point, the darkness now crawling inside of him.

Loki felt the hatred that was burning inside his chest grow even more, like an unstoppable wildfire. No one had ever noticed how much pain he was in; no one cared. To have the world go grey, to feel neither pain nor pleasure, to lose all concept of reality. It made him feel hollow, and everything was going right through him like a shadow of his imagination.

Sometimes it was like he could hear a voice that called his name, lulled him with a sense of wholeness, promised him that everything would be alright. But everything felt thick, muffled and it never got any better.

But that was then.

This is now.

Now he had a new purpose, something that made him feel alive, even if anger and hatred were what was driving him. Loki could feel the heat scorch his veins and make his frozen heartbeat once again, scaring away all the other useless feelings. They were worthless anyway.

Loki would show them all what he could do; he would show them that he was indeed a more fitting king than that fool Thor could ever be. He would show them that he was more than an empty shell they all had thrown away like a broken toy.

He would even be a greater king than Odin ever had been, and then he would be able to feel everything. That old fool that called himself king was growing more and more senile by the day and was getting neglectful of his duties. Loki knew that people were afraid to speak or stand up against the old king, fearful for their lives if they stepped out of line.

No one wanted to be the one to tell the great All-father that he needed to step down from his golden throne. A throne that he had built on blood and riches from all over the nine realms. Odin was the god of war, and he had earned that title, even if all any outsider that visits Asgard would ever see was its beautiful culture and architecture.

No one would ever wonder where all the gemstones and gold that the buildings were made from initially came from. And if they did, they probably wouldn't care; Loki had no idea which was worse, honestly. Odin used to call it spoils of war, his right as the conqueror of the realm he had taken over. Loki sneered in his mind at the mere thought. What did that make him then? Had Odin seen him as a spoil of war?

The thought haunted Loki more than he wanted to admit. As a mere infant, he had been taken from his homeworld and thrown into a false reality, a make-believe reality. Not even his mother was who she said she was; he should probably stop seeing her as such. Loki would never admit it out loud, but the idea of denouncing his mother hurt. And then the real pain started again, crashing through his mind and body almost to the point of making him beg for it all to go away. For it all to end.

Almost, but not entirely.

There was fear inside of him, a fear that he could not place, and it was all circulating alongside the black hole that swirled around inside his chest, a blue hue clinging to it. This burden, this darkness, was a danger that Loki would carry inside himself at all times. He needed to accept that. It had always frightened him, so he had tried to bury it deep under sweet words and jokes for as long as he could remember.

Lately, the darkness had found its way through the cracks in his dreams, the pure lure of power pulsed in his veins as he thought of what the blue color of his magic meant. Like a whisper of alluring power so deep and dark, it threatened to drown the world in its emptiness. That power was now dripping from Loki's long and pale fingers like honey.

He was a god capable of bringing humankind peace, and they would know the sweet relief of never having their own free will. Never knowing what it felt like to have to choose between two necessary evils. He would relieve them of that burden. A twinge of pain shot through Loki’sad, and a flash of blue invaded his vision, deepening the darkness only to disappear the next second.

Loki tilted his head to the side as a sudden movement caught his attention, and he had to admit that he, for a second, had forgotten about the one-eyed and dark-skinned man that was standing right before him, looking smug over ‘catching him.’ Loki held back a snort over their pettiness; he had walked into this glass container of his own free will; he was precisely where he wanted to be.

The dark-skinned man on the other side of the glass wall was now at the end of his so-called speech and walked away with nicely withheld irritation and his cape billowing behind him after a few well - placed jabs from Loki's side. He found it funny how humans could be so blind to their greed. They were mere fools for their faults, and they sought power without knowing the consequences.

They were small children playing with fire. And in this case, they wanted the tesseract. Loki would gladly show them their error in their ways, all in due time.

Suddenly, there was a cold fear coursing through his body, different from earlier, as if there were a considerable threat right in front of him, but the only thing he saw was metal and glass and nothing else. Even so, he could feel the tingling of magic traveling over his cold skin. He wanted to push the fear away, but at the same time, his heart was racing at the prospect of new magic. If only he knew where it came from.

Loki felt around with his magic, finding a connection he ever remembered feeling before. However, he didn’t feel anything threatening through it; it was just there like it had always been like it was a part of him. But how could he have missed it? How could he have missed it for all these years? Loki tugged on the connection, and suddenly there was a sinking feeling beneath his sternum as the feeling of fear grew.

It was like the fear was his, yet, it didn't belong to him. Loki blinked a few times at the unfamiliar emotions. As if he were possessed, there was a strong feeling to protect him from whatever evoked this feeling, but he couldn't figure out why he felt like this. It caught his interest. As there was nothing else to do, he pulled on the sensation, dragging it into himself, and poked and probed at it.

Loki could suddenly feel so much. He sucked in a breath between clenched teeth. He felt grief invade his body, his chest feeling like someone had squeezed it together, and for a second, the darkness in his vision flickered. Like the shadows were alive and trembling with excitement, greeting a long-lost friend.

Pain raced through him, and the feelings left behind a numbness that eluded him into nothing. Like an empty shell of what he once was, trying to remember something he had sealed away. But then again, Loki had never been someone to back down from a challenge that was staring right at him. And this was indeed a challenger worthy of his attention.

Loki stared at the glass cage he occupied; he showed none of the inner chaos and pain that whirled inside him while he was in there. He only stared forwards at the empty room they had left him in; it was a neat room indeed, but he was beginning to become bored and had only been here an hour.

The man of fury had swept away with his head held high and coat flying like a cape in his wake. It had been fun to toy with the man, but not overly so, as it could entertain him for a few minutes. The humans had no idea of ​​what was waiting for them, and Loki would love to enlighten them of their destiny, and he would gladly remind them of their place, but for now, he would play nice with the annoying, puny humans.

Loki took hold of the sensation of magic, the center of the fear, hurt, and pain that was leaking out. It was almost like his magic was trying to pull that something to him. He felt a sinking sensation in his chest again, and he forced his arms to remain behind his back so as not to attract attention. A longing together with sadness welled up inside of him in waves, his breath suddenly stopped, and it felt like a lump had formed behind his Adam's apple that bounced up and down almost painfully. He did not withdraw this time; it felt as if whatever was on the other side of this feeling could fill the void within him.

He needed to know what it was.

So, Loki did the only thing he could; he violently tugged on the connection and demanded the source of magic to come to him. When the sudden, dizzying feeling swept through him again, louder this time, he stopped in the middle of a step and stared at the transparent glass surface in front of him.

He couldn't see the creature very clearly at first, but the long black hair immediately caught his attention. The reflection was hunched down, almost as it was in pain and a small voice inside his mind whispered that it was probably because of him. Then again, it wasn't Loki’s fault that the creature had caught his interest now, was it?

Slowly, the creature straightened up and looked around, and it was fascinating how the reflection could do something like that when it was stuck on a transparent surface with the grey metal in the background. But what made him lose his breath was the sparkling viridian green eyes that were wide open and now staring straight at him. How he could see the vibrant color of the reflection's eyes, he had no idea, magic probably.

A surprised and almost angry look shifted onto the reflection's delicate face. Loki ignored that look and felt how his magic sang inside of him, almost like the reflection was making him feel more at ease than anything he had ever come across. It was intriguing.

Loki let a charming smile fall over his lips. He couldn't feel any strange energy or magic surrounding the image, and yet, this was not a usual illusion. This was who had stirred all this emotion inside of him. He raised an elegant black eyebrow and took a slow step towards the reflection that watched him as intensely as he did it. The closer he got, the more of the black-haired reflection he could see, and a pleasant shiver went through his body.

The eyes of the black-haired reflection stared at him almost angrily; no, that wasn't right. Frustration, fear, irritation… and was that joy? Loki blinked in surprise at all the emotions thrown at him, and he felt how each feeling hit his already bruised body. Loki could see the man's mouth moving, but no word left his plump, red lips, yet somehow, he could still hear the words being spoken.

' Loki ... '

Loki stared at the reflection with a curious look. Interesting. He could feel that the creature originated from magic, and it wasn't something that radiated from this world. He had heard this voice before. It was the phantom he had heard before in that wasteland; how had it found him again? And more importantly, why was his magic singing in tune with the reflections?

' Well, met again, phantom. I see that you can finally show yourself to me this time. Didn't I tell you to be gone and not bother me? '

The reflection's eyes widened in surprise at Loki's reply, and he could see how the lips parted slightly in shock. ' You… you really don't recognize me? '  

Loki blinked, was that pain he heard in the phantom's voice? The mere thought made him wince; he did not like the pain in their voice. But why did he even care? None of this made any sense. The way the phantom spoke to him sounded like they knew each other, but he had no memories of ever meeting this gorgeous man before, and he would remember them. Right?

Loki tilted his head only slightly to the side; there was something familiar about the man. It was probably his eyes; Loki wondered how their eyes were compared to the gems of the realms. If they were gorgeous in his reflection, how would they be if he had the chance to stare into them with the phantom right in front of him.

' Not that I can remember, and trust me, I would remember someone like you, ' Loki spoke with a casual tone as he strolled closer to the glass pane and noticed that he was now looking down at the reflection. Being this close, he could now see the phantom's eyes narrowed in something that Loki alone could only describe as irritation, and it made the golden spots shine through in the green eyes.

Fascinating.

Loki mused over those eyes, and he had to admit, the intense look the phantom gave him made him smile; an amused feeling started to soothe his aching soul. He had always been proud of the ability to read people like an open book and make them dance to his tune. However, this phantom, no, this man, was something entirely different; he was an enigma that Loki had trouble reading.

'You know me, Loki, or more like you did know me….' The lips of the reflection didn't move this time, but his voice echoed within Loki as the phantom hesitated. ‘did you hit your head or something?’

That made Loki's brows shoot up in surprise.

' I can promise you, dear phantom, that I would remember you if I had ever had the pleasure of meeting you before. And my head is nothing of your concern’ Was the phantom insulting his memory? It was bad enough that Loki belittled himself over it. He didn’t need a mere reflection pointing it out to him; it was infuriating.

Loki could feel how the phantom suddenly became incredibly... Nervous? Angry? Yes, it had to be anger he was feeling, and Loki tilted his head softly to the side and inspected the reflection, curious.

' I don't have time for one of your games, Loki. You can be however angry you want to be at me, but I need you to release me right now. I need to go back, or even better, tell me where the bloody hell you are and then send me back so I can find you. After that, then you can be as petty and angry as you want.'

Loki now looked amused at the mirror image. Did the phantom think he needed rescuing? 'Now, why would I do that, little one?'

However, it seemed as if the mirror image sensed his amusement, and something flashed in the reflection's gorgeous eyes, and then something changed inside of the phantom. Loki felt a cold shiver find its way down his spine as he could feel anger and determination leak from the phantom. The reflection suddenly raised one of his elegant eyebrows, challenging him for the control of the conversation.

' Because I asked you nicely? '

Something in the green eyes had changed completely, something sharp had stepped into the corner of his eye, and Loki had no idea if he would be excited by the pure challenge the reflection gave him or offended that he had stood up to him.

 ' hmm… no, ' Loki answered with a slight grin now on his lips, ' I don’t believe I can do that, little one. '

' And why not? ' The Phantom crossed his arms over his well-sculptured chest in a blank action of disapproval. Loki accepted the challenge and let his magic open up a little bit more to the phantom, his heart skipping a beat over the raw sensation of emotion that invaded him.

' I'm incredibly bored, and you will serve as a good distraction at the moment until the next step of the plan is complete, 'And there was something else inside of Loki that suddenly was screaming at his mind—begging for attention. He needed the reflection to stay close, to hold the pieces of his soul together as they were threatening to shatter. He needed him to be there and never leave him, but the question was, why?

Loki could see how the viridian eyes grew a shade darker, and the man's brows drew closer. He wanted to laugh, but the feeling of irritation that filled him in the vicinity of the phantom made Loki hold back his chuckling. He could see how the phantom's forehead creased as something was bothering the magical being.

‘Loki, where are you?’ the voice was now more firm, serious, like an order.

‘And yet again, why should I tell you that?’ Loki's smug grin set off a nervous twitch in the reflection's brow, and it only made Loki want to provoke more reactions from the phantom. He was having fun.

' Oh? Should I take your refusal to answer as you don’t know where you are? '

Wait, what? Loki felt his whole body stiffen as the reflection refused to stop in his taunting. He used that tone that triggered something inside of him, making the darkness in his sight close in around Lokis's mind.

'This is funny! Perhaps I was wrong. I guess you can’t tell me because you can’t remember The Phantom sighed. 'How disappointing, and here I thought you were smarter than this, you used to have such a good memory…’

Loki blinked, dumbfounded. His mind was racing on its own as he tried to come up with an answer. Was the reflection patronizing him? Mocking him? Yes, he realized, yes it was, and suddenly there was a new cold, freezing feeling leaping inside his chest. It cut out all the amusement he had been feeling. Loki did not like how feelings, neither his nor the phantom's, were bleeding through his magic, fuelling his negative emotion and eating away the peace he had for a moment felt.

A snarl formed on Loki's lips as the darkness thickened in his veins and the whispering in his mind cooed at him. Who was the phantom to even dare and try to taunt him, to talk back? The phantom was nothing! Nothing at all; he was like everyone else, looking down at him, waiting for a moment that Loki would turn his back, and then the phantom would stab him, like everyone else.

' You dare to mock me, a god? ' Loki snarled

The reflection looked at him now with a bored expression that made something snap in Loki's mind. There was no rational thought in his mind, thinking that maybe he had fallen right into the phantoms trap, only that this mere low-life of a reflection had dared to mock him!

' I dare; the question is if you dare to do anything about it, oh mighty God, ' The phantom taunted again.

Every word the phantom said made Loki's spine crawl, and he forced himself to blink slowly as he registered some of the terms. No, he didn't... He didn't want to. .... Loki could only stare at the reflection for a moment longer before snapping out of it. Dark energy started to swirl around him as small bolts of blue invaded his eyes.

The phantom stared at him, and Loki sneered at the image, but something else caught the god's eye. In a heartbeat, the trickster had zoomed in on the phantom’s right wrist where something eerily familiar was peeking out, and a cold sensation flooded him. The phantom noticed and looked down at his arm before pulling the fabric up, revealing what had caught Loki’s eye.

Loki could see a faint sea of ​​blue invaded by large golden dots, much like suns in the sky, and his finger twitched to take a better look at his own arm. But he ignored the impulse; the mark was dull, lifeless, ugly, and dead. He had no longer any feelings tower that mark, so he covered it up and ignored it. Loki felt how his whole body was now shaking, the longing in his chest made his breath hitch, but he refused to give in to the need. But why? Why was it so hard? Loki could not remember, but one thing he did know. It was nothing he ever wanted to have on his body; it wasn't pleasant, and it was a constant reminder of… of something…

'What? Too afraid to look at your own?' the phantom asked. ‘ to confirm who I am? ‘

The viridian eyes stared intensely into his own blue eyes. It was strange that the reflection even knew about that tattoo; Loki had no idea how that was possible because he had hidden it from everyone, even himself. Blue invaded his mind, and something happened, as though he had lost control over a part of his mind.

‘you are a cower, Loki, The Phantom now sneered, lifting his chin, looking down at Loki with that stern expression. ‘ think for yourself for once in your life.’

' Are you asking if I'm brave enough? ' Loki questioned lowly with a dark snarl on his face, trying to dominate the conversation of their minds.

The reflection answered with a sneer of its own. ' No one is questioning your bravery, you bloody idiot, only your mind. '

Loki snapped, like a rubber band that had been stretched too far, and the backlash of the words hit something inside of Loki that he did not even know was there. Anger, pure, unfiltered rage. It had been held back before, but now, when a mere image, a phantom, had questioned his sanity, it was coming free. It was the last drop that made the already filled cup spillover.

"My mind?" Loki now asked aloud, with a cold low voice that sent shivers through everyone who heard it. Even the air around him had dropped several degrees as a fine layer of ice coated the ground.

"THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH MY MIND!" Loki bellowed as he shot out with his magic as hard as he could against the link that was binding them together. Slamming it into his connection with the phantom, brutally and without mercy, he felt a twinge of satisfaction as the reflection gasped in pain with a hand at its chest.

The sudden burst of magic made the light flicker only for a second around him. The reflection shimmered, and he felt a twinge of smugness as he saw hurt flash over the phantom’s face. It was a small victory, and yet it pained Loki more than he ever would admit.

' There is everything wrong with it! ' The reflection shouted back.

"What do you mean by that?" Loki sneered out loud as he saw how the reflection started to get more and more transparent, the magic that held them slowly together fading. Loki could almost hear a faint, I’m sorry, as the phantom disappeared. A sudden pang of pain hit Loki from nowhere, and he tried to get a hold of the phantom again, no, no, no, no, he couldn't lose him again. He pushed away everything he had been feeling for a second, and his face was suddenly broke into a desperate and haunted expression as he tried to strengthen the connection, but it was too late.

' Do not go, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I… no…don’t leave me…' But as he met the now dimmed eyes of the phantom, he could not get the words out as the desperate feeling threatened to swallow him whole.

Then he was gone, and Loki let out a scream of frustration, pain, and desperation over what he had lost, with no idea ​​why it impacted him so. He needed to remember why, WHY was this phantom so important to him? What had he forgotten? Why could he not access whatever memories he knew were there? Because Loki could feel it, there was something wrong with his mind; he had denied it for a long time.

The phantom was right, yet he could not figure out what was wrong, what had happened. And that scared Loki, because there was nothing, nothing! That he could not figure out. There was nothing in his opinion that was wrong, yet he could feel it: the darkness, the sucking feeling, the emptiness.

His magic tried to grab hold of what was no longer there, and the darkness slowly closed in around him again. The darkness was whispering into his mind, a voice was there, and Loki tried to shut it out for a moment. He needed to find the Phantom, his Phantom, his other half. But the more he tried, the more the feeling started to slip past his fingers, like the most refined grains of sand, smooth and warm against his cold fingertips, as the dark voices began to gain a hold of him yet again, invading his mind. Loki could hear how they whispered to him, laughing, taunting him, telling how pathetic he was. Letting a simple reflection rile him up like this, pathetic, useless.
 
-It wasn't real; people are trying to fool you; they are playing with your feelings. -

Loki stared at the glass wall in front of him; dread filled him before anger started to blossom again.

- He wasn't telling the truth, but you still played right into their hands, and for what? A moment of satisfaction? For fun? -

The old, dark voice was now whispering in his brain. It was right; they had tried to make him lose his mind, but how could humans develop something like that? It had to be a trick of the mind, or was it perhaps his so-called family that was responsible for it? Who else knew of the tattoo?

-That's right, it was all a trick. The people are the reason that you have suffered, this is another one of their tricks, a mere illusion, and they almost had you. But you are not the master of illusions for nothing. -

That right, he is the god of illusions; Loki fisted his hands hard; the bones cracked as he felt how his magic started to leak out. He couldn't lose control of it, not yet; he still needed to gain some time to make this plan work. Then, only then, would the humans suffer. Only when there was no more use for them. He could wait. He was biding his time until the Humans were at their lowest, so he could step out and crush the last of their hope into oblivion.

-Yeees, - the voice hissed - Was it not the humans' side that Thor took instead of yours? He knows your weaknesses; he plays on them. He must be involved in this, and was not Midgard chosen by Odin before you fell off the bridge? You were never worth anything to him, to any of them. You are the runt of his arch-enemy, a spoil of war taken as a trophy. He raised you only to sacrifice you when you were no longer good for anything else -

The feelings of anger and betrayal that rose in him stung Loki, and he gave off a low breathtaking sound; it was true. People had begun to take on too much, believe too much, they no longer knew what peace was, inner peace, but he could give it to them. He could take their liberty and provide them with peace and freedom from difficult and painful decisions.

- It's just a trick; they're all lying. The humans are not worth anything, those who do not want to follow you must burn. They must be purged for their will -

Loki stared at his reflection, which now stared back at him. There was no phantom this time that stared back at him; the connection they had before was now silent like it had never been there at all, like a trick from the humans.

Loki's eyes glowed in a light blue color that he could see staring right back at him as a slow, sly grin bloomed on his lips. Yes, the humans would never know what hit them, not before it was too late for them to do anything.

Perhaps he should get a new pair of boots afterward when everything was done, and they were crushed underneath his feet.

.⬝:*¨¨*:⬝.💓.⬝:*¨¨*:⬝.☯.⬝:*¨¨*:⬝.💓.⬝:*¨¨*:⬝.

The silence in the room was almost too much to bear as silence came in over the monitor.

They had all seen Fury’s talk with the prisoner, how he had played it cool and not given anything out. It was as if Loki had enjoyed the whole situation, the wordplay. Making most of the observers uncomfortable, then Stark had walked in like he owned the place, taking their focus away from the monitor.

The mood was tense after Fury had come back, and a discussion broke out that Thor ignored. He looked away, not wanting to see his brother in the state he was now in. He was angry and frustrated.

Wherever he went and whatever he touched, chaos followed him. Honestly, Thor did not know if he was angry that Loki was here or that he had even dared to think about the idea of threatening his Earth. Because that what it was, Earth was his domain either by All father's words or his actions. There were a few people here that were his friends and, of course, Lady Jane.

To think that his brother would fall so low and try to invade this planet. Even if he had an army behind him, there was no excuse to kill an entire species.

"Thor, are you even listening?"

He looked up at his name, “No,” he answered honestly and saw how the bald man glared at him in anger, but it was nothing that bothered him. He wasn’t afraid of the man.

“Please pay attention, or get the hell out of here; this is important. “ The Man said sternly, “I ask you, what is his end game?" Fury bit out through clenched teeth.

“I have no idea,” Thor answered, honest. Once upon a time, he probably could read his little brother like one of his books. But now? Now he was staring down at an entirely different being, and it was not the brother he knew.

"Then he is a danger to us all."

Thor narrowed his eyes and let his arms fall by his side, “Yes, and no,” lies had never been his strong side. That was all Loki. So, he did not care about how his words would be received.

“Explain” The red-haired women, Lady Natasha, he vaguely remembers, ordered

Thor held back a slight. This was like handling a conversation with children, pettiness, and high emotions. Honestly, he found it a bit funny how single-minded the humans were, but then again, who was he to judge.

“He can indeed be dangerous,” Thor said, “but he will not become so because he will not stay here long enough for that to happen. He will be brought to justice by the Allfather.”

"He has killed people here on Earth and is currently holding some of our own under his control," she argued. “HE is not going anywhere.”

"Loki is my brother and still a prince of Asgard, " Thor bit back. “I don’t need your permission.”

"He is out of his mind!"

Thor felt his anger rise again and took a warning step forward. “Have a care with how you speak…” he said, only to be interrupted by one of the workers.

"Energy spikes noticed with the prisoner and rising fast."

"On-screen," Fury demanded as he walked over, ready to give the command to drop Loki from the ship if he had to. Demigod or not, he was a threat to humanity, and even he would have trouble surviving a drop of that height.

A switch of the camera showed them Loki in all his glory. For a moment, they could see a variety of emotions reflected on his face. Something that had not happened before, although no words left him, the energy spike that had alerted them had now stabilized.

Thor stared at the screen and felt a twinge twist itself inside his chest. How far his brother had fallen. He shook his head and walked up behind the man of Fury and looked at the image of his brother that was doing…something—perhaps talking to someone? It was hard to see from this angle.

"Find out what he's doing, send soldiers to the cell," Fury demanded as he refused to look away.

"Thor, do you know what he is doing?" The man of age asked him, and Thor looked over to the other blond in the group and shook his head.

"No," he answered

That was true. After Harald’s Death, blessed his soul, Loki had changed completely, blocking them out and refusing to have anything to do with whatever reminded him about Harald. It was like a large part of him had also died, and Thor had no idea how to approach him anymore. Every time he did, Loki became defensive and tried to bite his head off or stab him. Whatever he was in the mood for that day. All of them had hoped that Loki would come back to them with the years that passed, as time heals all wounds.

Thor let his eyes be fixed on his brother, who stared straight in front of him before his face was utterly twisted into an angry sneer. More emotion than he had seen in hundreds of years.

"My mind?" Loki questioned in a low voice that came over the speakers, "THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH MY MIND!"

"Who is he talking to?" Steve asked while he walked over and made himself ready to take to get there down, but Loki's snarl stopped him as his voice came from the monitor.

"what do you mean by that?" Loki snarled.

"That's it, he's lost it," The man of iron, Tony, said as he started to walk away "shall we get the party started?"

“NO!” Thor protested immediately.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Odinson, but the time of talking is over," Fury said as he turned around and started to walk away. However, before any of them could get very far before, a loud explosion was heard, and the Helicarrier violently tipped to the side.

They were under attack, and alarms were blaring all around them.

It was time to take action.

Chapter Text

There was an extreme pain shooting through Harry's body and mind when he came back to his own body. For a moment, he couldn't even make out where his body parts were; he couldn’t feel his toes or even start guessing where his hands lay. It felt like his limbs weren’t attached to where they should have been, and on top of that, every nerve within him burned as the force of Loki's magic still lingered inside his own.

Everything throbbed as he breathed in harshly, chest aching at the movement; it felt like his soul was at constant risk of being torn apart with every breath his body was forced to take. But, sadly, he could not control what came naturally, so he tried to ride out the pain and not fight it. Finally, Harry forced his heavy eyelids to open, only to shut them as fast as he could, as the light sent another set of lightning bolts crashing through his mind.

It felt like a herd of hippogriffs had decided to bash his head into the ground and then whack him a few more times just for the fun of it. Harry could taste his blood in his mouth; the metallic tingle made him feel like his stomach wanted to jump out of his throat. He rolled on to his side and heaved, even though he had nothing to throw up. His body cramped up under the dry heaves as nothing, aside from acid and saliva, came out.

Betrayal and fear stung his heart as he remembered seeing Loki again - or was he seeing him for the first time? Bloody hell, this was confusing. Still, he had some problems separating Harald's memory from his own. He knew that his… soul ... was older than his body, and as such, he had two sets of memories that did not fit together, and were constantly battering at each other, fighting to be the one who was in charge at the moment, Harry or Harald.

The whole remembering thing was a pain in his ass, and perhaps, it was because of that, the memories had come so sporadically, not to overwhelm his mind and body as he went through the changes his inheritance forced upon him. Harry rolled on his back as he took a deep breath, feeling the tingling sensation of Loki's power wash over him in much slower waves.

Chaotic, dark, and cold.

It was somehow familiar, almost like coming home, yet the magic left a foul aftertaste, worse than blood. Harry forced his eyes to open again, and this time it was easier for him to take in his surroundings. He slowly moved his bruised body and looked down at his hands, tied together with some yellowish rope. His magic tickled under the skin, but it was as if the ropes at his wrists prevented him from letting it out, he could still feel it, but he could not get his magic to do what he wanted.

The sensation of being trapped welled up inside him when another memory of Harald came forth as he was too trapped, but this time, trapped in a dome. It was like his body still remembered the constant pain that had shot through him at that time. And that horror blended together with Harrys' childhood, trapped in the small space underneath the staircase, restricted, and not allow to move.

His heartbeat began to pick up speed as he tried to scramble to his feet, only to fall again, landing with a soft thud as his legs refused to work as they should. The memory of his aunt haunted his mind as she suddenly was replaced with Vernon's giant gestalt, leaning over him. Huge, sausage-like fingers were holding on to his hair, hard enough to rip out some strands, as he was thrown into the cupboard like a ragdoll.

Fuck, fuck, and double fuck, why was his life so complicated? Why in the name of the Norns could nothing be easy? Harry tried to calm down as it started to hurt more by the seconds; suddenly, he choked on the air he was breathing. His whole body shook uncontrollably, and his body began to tense up as the panic Harry had felt before took hold of him once again. And this time, he could not break from his body’s reaction; white spots filled his vision, and he knew what was coming; he had had panic attacks before.

It was something Harry had experienced a lot after the war. Almost every night for a year, he had woken up in full fight-or-flight mode, his body reacting to memories that trigged his PTSD and that in turn, triggered panic attacks. But this time, it was different; it wasn't his - Harry’s - memories that trigged it, it was Harald’s, making it was somewhat easier to separate himself from it.

Harry needed to think of it from an rational point of view, lose the emotion that triggered it all; he couldn’t let it take over his mind, not like this. First, he thought of the most significant fact, Loki had forgotten him, and what had he thought? Honestly, Harry wanted to hit himself for being that naïve. He had believed that Loki would remember him, open his arms to him without any question, to get to know each other again after what, a thousand years apart?

Of course, Loki had changed. No one stays the same after their life partner dies, but to completely forget about him? That was too harsh. For once in his life, Harry had wanted something to go his way. But nothing in his life was ever easy, so why did he think this would be an exception?

Bloody hell. He wanted to sue whatever deity that found it funny to toy with his life like this. As black spots invaded his sight and the dizziness made him fall back down on the cold wooden floor, he tried to force himself to breathe normally.

Slowly, he started to get his breathing under control as his mind wandered back to the present. He did not need to think twice about who had taken and bound him. It was clear as he had fainted right in front of his crazy aunt; she was more than likely the one.

The question was where she was right now, as she was not within his sight. Ignoring his pounding headache and the feeling of his stomach eating itself, Harry slowly started to feel for the blend of the two different magics together inside of him.

He could feel the flow in and out of his core in a slow motion, and he tried to only focus on the warmth that the movement created. He had to focus on the present, not the past, facts, gain information, and get the hell out of here.

Harald's fear and reaction had to wait until later. Then, slowly, he could feel how he started to relax more, and with a last deep breath, he opened his eyes again, and blinked blearily at the sight that finally met him.

Old pews were overturned, and some had rotted away over the years. Dust filled the air and danced in the daylight, spread across the broken window along the edges. The podium at the front was adorned with a grayish sheet, and Harry could see large candelabra standing haughtily at the side.

As if time had not eaten up its surroundings, and they proudly stood where they had been placed decades ago. A beautiful stained-glass window stared down at him. A cold chill wandered warningly down his spine, the icy feeling amplified when an almost unnoticeable shift took place in the air, and Harry stiffened.

His instincts were screaming at him again; his whole being was so sensitive that he noticed even the slightest shift in magic around him, and right now, he felt that he was no longer alone. Harry slowly turned his head towards the presence of his aunt, who was now sitting three chairs away from him. A silvery shimmering aura embraced her in almost divine splendor; Harry could feel the magic pouring out of her in soft waves, cold and slimy.

Her blue eyes were fixed on him, and she got up in the flowing motion of a river, slowly moving towards him. His aunt was like a predator that was getting ready to jump on its prey, as she walked forward. Eyes hard as steel, with a satisfied smile that adorned the red lips when she saw how defenseless he was right now.

"Bra- vo,'' Sigurd's voice rang out in the otherwise silent church " Once again, you manage to surprise me with your tricks; you truly are the perfect match for the trickster" She came to a stop in front of him. " But I have to admit that I had forgotten how good you were at breaking out of spells; that spell I put you under should have kept you unconscious for at least three more hours. "

Harry pulled lightly on the rope that tied his hands, which did not go unnoticed by the woman in question as Sigurd smiled down at him, more amused than anything else. Like he was a child that tried something and was doomed to fail. She tilted her head a little, and the diamond-studded earrings rattled during the movement before she clicked her tongue.

The sound made Harry cringe, and he had to force himself to take another deep breath. He swore mentally at Harald's fear triggered by the slightest sound from her; this was so not the time. Harry used all his experience to keep his feelings deeply buried, or else they would drown him.

Harry could feel the magic twisted in to the fabric of the bindings; the heat underneath his skin burned hot, begging to be let out. He could do this, only direct everything elsewhere until another time when he could safely freak out. He slowly let out a breath and let his forest green gaze meet her light blue.

Sigurd was now standing right in front of him; the foul smell of her perfume unpleasantly tickled his nose; it was like she had bathed in it. Her magic swept over his already sensitive skin, and it stuck like a thousand needles as her grin grew.

“Well, well,” she laughed. “That is a surprise indeed, I would have thought you would be broken beyond repair by now, but it seems you still have some fire in you.”

"What do you want?" Harry forced out, trying to get some distance between them.

The steel-blue eyes were drilled into the viridian green. " I want what I have always wanted… You lying dead before me. "

Harry held back an eye roll, if that's what she wanted then why was he not dead yet? She had the perfect time to do so, and his confusion had to be shown as she laughed at him.

" Oh ~, don't be like that sweetie, I will kill you in time; my master demands as much. But there is no rush, and I have you exactly where I want you. " Smiling, she raised her hand and dragged a finger against his cheek. " But there is one thing I need before I do that. "

Harry could not hold back flinching at the awful feeling of her nails; the woman did not ignore the motion as she stared down at him. Her face came close as she took a deep breath in, and her eyes shuttered close for a moment as she felt the magic around him, only to look up with a new determination.

"It really is you; I have to admit, I had my doubts at first " she took hold of his chin, forcing Harry to look at her. "That barrier ... .. " The look she had on her face was a mix of irritation and anger. " That was a very cheap trick you used, but I knew my master would break out of it given time," she hummed and let go of his chin. " Even a soul cage will tear and crack with the right amount of force. "

Harry tried to suppress the memories that were starting to resurface as she spoke, the cage he had created around Thanos. Yes, he remembered that Harald had used his soul to harden it, and in doing so, he sacrificed himself, yet it was not enough to keep the titan there for more than a few centuries. And now… Thanos was loose in the universe again, planning gods know what.

"I can still vividly recall the sweet, sweet sound of your soul screaming in agony each time my master relentlessly pounded the barrier, over and over, and over again." Sigurd's grin widened as a chilling frost seeped into Harry's bones, while he glared at her with fiery defiance. "Until that exquisite moment when your very soul shattered into these magnificent tiny fragments, and my master was finally unleashed, and I believed your soul was eternally broken. Clearly, I was mistaken..."

"... As if that's anything new," Harry mumbled, cutting her off mid-speech. Before he could process what happened, a sharp sting erupted on his cheek from her slap.

"Be quiet!" Sigurd screeched, her hand darting out once more to clamp around his throat, choking off his air and causing Harry to gasp.

" You are not to talk to me like that, " she hissed. “I'm a queen, and you will show me the respect I deserve,” she sneered, ignoring the gasping he did to get air down into his lungs. " Don’t you dare think for a second that I will not hurt your pretty face, because I will."

Harry tried to get some air down into his lungs, and she suddenly let go of his neck, making him cough a few times before she clicked her tongue again.

"But I have to say, I am impressed," she continued, like nothing had happened seconds before.

Then, with a flourish motion, she turned around and walked over to the altar, heels clicking at the dry floor as she did.

"Truly, my dear nephew, had you not spoken to that fool, I would have never realized you were still among the living. Your spirit is remarkably strong to have endured for so long, but your luck seems quite dreadful. Imagine that, being reincarnated as none other than Harry Potter, the darling of Britain and the Boy Who Lived... twice! The savior of our world," she laughed, her voice resonating through the room as she gazed up at the stained glass. "What an incredible jest..."

She shook her head, locks bunching as she did. “Well, here we are, and you will not get in my way again. You will do what I want you to, and do not bother looking for that stick of yours; I took the liberty to use it as firewood. You can’t use magic without that one; I presume... weak as humans are…. you did hit bottom with that, huh?”

Harry swallowed around a growing lump in his throat. He was not utterly helpless without a wand; the elder wand was infused with his magic so he could use it. Not that she needed to know that. But that wand had been the first thing he had got with his own money; even when his wand had been destroyed in the war, he had used the elder wand to repair it. But not even the elder wand would be able to reconstruct his wand if it was burnt to crisp.

“Thanks, but I have to decline, ” Harry forced out behind clenched teeth

"tsk, tsk," she taunted, spinning around with a deliberate grace, her hips swaying with each echoing step as she closed the distance between them. "There you go again; acting like you have a choice in this matter. I won't repeat my mistakes this time. So, you don't have to worry." Harry's eyes narrowed, darting around frantically for any possible escape, but her voice, dripping with menace, pulled his gaze back to her, fixated on her retreating form, a chill running down his spine.

“This time, I have a leverage on you that you cannot ignore.”

Harry felt an acid taste invade his mouth; Loki, she was talking about Loki. He had known that she had something to do with it all! "You will not touch him!" He spat angrily as death shadows had to start to move around him, begging to be free, to maim, to kill for its master. His back arched as if his wings wanted to break out of his skin, but Harry held them back for the moment.

Sigurd threw her head back in laughter. “Too Late for that little prince!" she sang as she spread her arms out, “and it was so easy!” she danced around, hair swirling like it had a will of its own, and knowing their family history, it probably had. How in the nine realms had Harald been related to this woman?

Harry's mind raced, trying to come up with a plan. Sigurd had the upper hand for now, and he couldn't risk her harming Loki. He needed time to think and find a way out of this situation.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves and center his magic. His eyes flicked towards the altar, where she had been standing just moments before. There was something there, something that caught his eye.

"I must say, slipping through Asgard's defenses was quite simple during the turmoil caused by your so-called disappearance. As for Loki," she sighed, "he was incredibly easy to influence in his fragile state. A severed bond is no trivial matter, and you left him to languish in it for ages. You should be grateful to me; I kept him going all this time. Do you realize how often he attempted to end his life just to reunite with you in the afterlife?"

She smiled. “Too many times that I now have lost count of them, and I made him survive every- single- time. And every time he tried, he was driven further away from everything.”

Harry felt the chill spread through his bone, "What did you do?" he tried not to let his feeling shown, but he was not very successful by the look he was receiving.

"Oh, you really want to know?" she taunted, a sly smile playing on her lips as she pressed a finger against them. "It was nothing major, just a little meddling here and there to destabilize his magic... a few twisted memories, sweet but sinister whispers invading his dreams. He noticed eventually, but by then it was far too late. The fool tried to seal his memories, but it was futile. Honestly, manipulating the memories of his so-called family was a breeze compared to you. Did you know he was adopted, and they never breathed a word of it to him?" She burst into a fit of gleeful laughter.

"That revelation shattered him, it was the catalyst my master needed to seize control. The rest, as they say, is history." Sigurd dismissed it all with a dramatic wave of her hand.

"Why are you doing this?" Harry ground out, feeling the restraints on his wrists begin to slacken as his magic strained against the ropes, channeling his anger towards them. Hearing about the suffering Loki endured alone filled him with overwhelming guilt.

"For Alfheim’s future, of course" she stared at him like he had grown a second head. " Why else would I do anything like this?"

But that could not be her only goal, Harry thought; there was no way that his aunt would ever be able to ascend the throne of Alfheim. After trying to kill Harald, she was a traitor and had a death sentence on the spot all over the realms. There was no way that she could take the throne, and even if she managed to kill all those that stood in the way, there was still the matter of blood bonding to the realm. There was a reason why only the highest and most powerful Fae would be allowed on the throne. They had absolute power over it.

The other thing about the realm was that it needed a woman to charge over the land; the queen had the highest rank in Alfheims. If Harry wasn't mistaken, Harald had a little sister who probably was the next in line for the throne. Even with her ties to the royal family, Sigurd had been cut out and branded as a blood traitor. So, she could not even take a single step into the realm without the whole environment there trying to kill her.

Sigurd sighed, "Oh, don't give me that look," she said. "I haven't forgotten that my sister and her husband banned me," she retorted sharply, her eyes suddenly gleaming with a hint of madness.

Harry could feel a drop of sweat travel down his neck, and the feeling grounded him as his wrist had gone numb by the magic he circulated there. Sigurd's whole face had now changed as she giggled and took a string of Harry's hair in her hand, wiggling it around her fingers.

"But there is a way, a very legitimate and brilliant way to make it all alright, and I will be welcomed back with open arms."

Harry remained silent while she spoke, as if she had been holding onto this secret for ages, and now she could no longer keep it to herself. "I still have you, and with your soulmate in our grasp, it will be simple to create a new heir to the throne who will assume power when the others are gone." Harry tensed, his eyes widening in shock, temporarily forgetting his restraints.

" W-what?"

Sigurd flashed a wide grin down at him, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "You heard me, think about it! A child born from the long-lost heir to Alfheim, whether reincarnated or not, still holds the ancient magic within. That alone is a formidable legacy." Her voice was animated, filled with a fervent passion. "And then, there's your true mate from the royal jotun lineage; a direct descendant of the original giants! Together, they would create a child whose power would be limitless." Sigurd's enthusiasm bubbled over, nearly overwhelming her, but she soon composed herself.

She tilted her head thoughtfully, her gaze softening as it settled on Harry, a curious expression playing on her features. "The real question is," she mused, her voice now a gentle inquiry, "who will be the one to carry this extraordinary child?"

Harry struggled to comprehend what she was suggesting, his thoughts tangled and muddled mid-rant. A faint sensation flickered from the other side of Loki’s bond, a connection he had felt abruptly and confirmed was still intact, despite being blocked on both ends. From Harald’s memories, Harry knew of Loki’s shapeshifting prowess; he had seen Loki as a woman before.

Yet, the idea that he himself might... No, he couldn't entertain that notion. It was impossible, wasn't it? The very idea of bearing a child seemed absurd—he was male, after all, complete with all the necessary anatomy, and as far as he was aware, not a shapeshifter. Still, the thought lingered, unsettling and confusing, refusing to be easily dismissed.

"Anyway," Sigurd went on with her monologue, "The throne would easily see the potential in that child; honestly, I've never grasped why the Asgardians despise the jotun, considering they are the creators of worlds. Of course, it's not as if they're the ones who start all the wars across the realms," she added, releasing him as she stood up, "but the gods have always been afraid of what they don't understand, and unfortunately, that's quite a lot."

It was the last strand that made Harry's magic snap; the rope around his wrist disintegrated by the pure intensity of his magic. Then, tearing it away from the bonds, Harry hit her straight in the face without any warning.

Sigurd was hurled against the opposite wall of the church, causing it to crack. Anger surged through Harry in intense waves, making the shadows around him quiver and dance with delight at his fury. Harry growled as the wind around him intensified, with magic surging out of him in powerful waves. His creature blood boiled, and he slowly pushed himself forward, snapping his wings open as shadows empowered by the dark realm loomed behind him. It felt as if Death itself was urging him on, encouraging him to do what needed to be done. Sigrud needed to die.

Harry’s movements felt so light like he didn't have a body, as he slammed into his aunt that was once again flung away from him, not even given her a chance to react. But this time, Harry's hand around her neck as he followed her movement.

Harry barely had the time to dodge the next attack, and he had to let go of her to be able to jump back, narrowly avoiding the cutting spell. Sigurd laughed after she recovered from the attack and had now collected magic in her hands. Silver fog sent electrical wires along her arms as she chanted another spell and sent it rushing towards Harry.

A vast shimmering shield immediately formed before him as he raised his arms instinctively, and the blast slammed into it. There was no way Harry would let her live a third time, the anger was fueling his magic, but it was also eating it away fast. Even now, he could feel how the drain was more significant than what he could collect in his core as he was now battling with his Asgardian magic. So, he drew another wind barrier before him, slicing her attack in the middle, canceling it on the spot.

Sweat ran down his temple, and his breathing was heavy. He had to act fast. Harry had been trained to battle almost all of his life. Contrary to Harald, he had sharpened his senses and instincts in the war. Harald had only known peace and only learned to fight as a cause from his upbringing. But Harry Potter had been on the front-line of one, and as a result, he knew what to do.

A new energy blast hit a bench that exploded, wood flying in all directions, and Harry quickly fired an attack back that missed her by an inch.

"Do you have a problem, little Harald?" Sigurd taunted as she sauntered forward; the silvery energy gathered around her and made stones and wooden planks lift from the ground. She held out her hand and threw them at him. Harry ducked, rolled back on his feet and sent a stunner her way, missing.

“Not really,” Harry answered as he flung another spell at her, making her jump behind a pillar to take cover. “Has anyone told you that you talk too much?”

“You…!” She hissed angrily, but collected herself as she took a step back, staring at him as they started to walk in a circle over the rubble and destruction they had created.

“Don’t get full of yourself.”

Harry bent his finger and tried to get the stiffness out of them, the magic use had started to take a toll on his body, and he had no idea how long he could last like this. He needed to end this fast, and he knew that only one of them would walk out of here alive.

”I have always hated you, ever since the day you were born. The whole kingdom praised the firstborn son, he who had the mark of Death!” The last words that came out of her were said with such a coldness, her eyes darkened a shade as she glared at him. “How can Death even choose an heir that way? But you… You .., a mere babe, were worthy of his gaze? Don't make me laugh! And now you are trying to steal Death away from my master?”

Harry felt the magic quickly flow out of him as he began to concentrate on a protective barrier as her next blow struck it, creating a ringing sound that vibrated through his arms and caused his legs to almost bend. He stared angrily up at her, and his lips were pulled back in a sneer, showing off his now pointier canines as the creature blood brought forth more and more animalistic features.

"I never wanted to be Death’s Heir!" Harry shouted and tried to push her away with a last effort. Sigurd stumbled back before she quickly found her balance again, not going down that easily.

“LIAR!”

The stone underneath Harry's feet vibrated and broke apart as they tried to swallow him whole. He jumped back further away from her and the ground.

"No!" Harry bit back, "I would cast the title away if I could," black mist began to spread itself up Harry's legs, and the darkness within him began to grow. He felt how it nibbled at his heart, begging him to use it, begging him to kill her, to feed them.

“Lies, and more lies!” she screamed angrily with that high-pitched voice.

The next assault hit with such force that Harry's protective barrier exploded into a cascade of a thousand, razor-sharp shards. The chasm between seidr energy and the earthly magic he wielded yawned wide and daunting. Though they shared certain similarities, the ways they demanded mastery, coursing through his veins and demanding control, were worlds apart, threatening to tear him apart with their disparity.

Seidr energy could not simply materialize from thin air, much like the earth magic that welled up from within him, drawn from his own essence. As the battle wore on, he could sense the fatigue creeping in, a sure sign that she too was feeling the strain, her labored breaths mirroring his own. With agility, Harry ducked beneath another incoming blow, swiftly countering with a strike of his own. His attack landed with precision, striking Sigurd on the leg, while a follow-up move carved a deep wound into her arm, the sharp edge of his magic leaving its mark.

Harry seized the chance to catch his breath and regain his strength. His legs were wobbly, his fingers tingled, and he had lost all sensation in them after the second assault. Suddenly, the entire church trembled as something struck the roof, crashed down just in front of them, and triggered a minor tremor in the earth.

Harry staggered back in shock, his wings in front of him, acting as a shield from the debris that was now raining down on him as the roof caved in; dust filled the church as the occupants tried to keep their balance. He backed away a few steps when he heard movement see in the middle of all the devastation and caught glimpses of something that slowly grew, only getting bigger and bigger.

Harry stood paralyzed, unable to tear his gaze away from the monstrous figure looming before him. The green beast unfurled itself with deliberate menace, towering to its full, terrifying height at the heart of the crater it had smashed into existence. Its head was held high in a display of raw power. With a dismissive shake, the creature cast off the dust as if it were nothing more than a light snowfall, and Harry realized with a jolt of horror that the beast seemed completely oblivious to the chaotic duel it had interrupted, as if the surrounding tumult was beneath its notice.

Harry retracted his wings, feeling his entire body tremble from the exertion as the darkness receded from him. He breathed heavily and wobbled on his feet, yet he kept his eyes fixed on the massive creature rising before him. He observed his aunt glaring at it with a fierce snarl on her face.

"Your filthy beast," She bellowed, catching the attention of the green monster.

Harry could suddenly feel the raw energy pulsing from the beast; it was like nothing he had ever felt before. It was not magic - that much he knew. Harry suddenly saw his aunt raise her hand, and a tint of red swirled in her palm. It was the only warning before she sent a red blast of energy at the green monster that couldn't possibly survive a direct hit.

“Watch out!” Harry shouted in warning, but it was too late to get away from the blast. So, like the fool with a hero complex that he was, Harry did the first thing that came into his mind and apparated right in front of the creature. A bell-like sound rang out as the spell hit the protective barrier he had flung up. Harry's wings spread out both in a defensive motion but also for stabilising himself.

The blue barrier shivered before breaking down seconds later, leaving Harry gasping for some much-needed air. It felt like his body was on fire as the exhaustion came over him, and he felt how his body was suddenly slumping forward. For a second, his vision blurred, and Sigurd took advantage of this without hesitation.

A spell hit him hard and sent him crashing back into the green being behind him, that hadn't moved since he had landed in the midst of their battle.

Harry felt how the air was stuck in his lungs as his vision blacked out for a second. When his sight came back, it was invaded with green, as large biceps, almost as big as his own body, covered him, warm arms wrapped securely around him and his wings that were tucked in behind his back. He didn’t even want to think of how many feathers would need to be put back in place after this fight. It would be a absolute nightmare.

"That's enough from you, you dull creature; this has nothing to do with you," Sigurd ordered from somewhere to the side, but Harry could not pinpoint her position as his head swirled and the black dots inside his field do vision had started to grow.

A thunderous roar of fury erupted, quaking the entire room and the massive chest pressed against Harry. The sound was so deafening that Harry instinctively clamped his hands over his ears, desperate to shield his hearing from the raw, primal force. The sheer power of the roar reverberated through everything as the green monster unleashed its wrath at the insult hurled its way.

In an instant, the enormous, emerald-skinned behemoth crouched protectively around Harry, whose eyes widened in utter astonishment and terror just as his aunt's assault came blazing toward them. Harry's voice caught in his throat, unable to shout a warning before his verdant guardian absorbed the blow. Instead, he was engulfed in the visceral sensation and sound of the green giant's agonized grunt.

What happened next was all a blur; Harry felt the launching feeling in his stomach, and in the next second, the beast had hit his aunt so hard rhat she had been flung away like a broken doll. The silence that came after was deafening; it was almost the worst, most anti-climactic ending he ever had thought could happen to her. Yet, he could not find a drop of sympathy even to care.

He could distinctly sense the deep, rhythmic breaths of his guardian, each inhale and exhale resonating with a profound calmness. Nearby, the verdant creature snorted contentedly, a sound both strange and soothing, while his aunt lay motionless on the ground. The scene was surreal; not only had this formidable being withstood a direct assault of potent magic, but it had also hurled her aside with such incredible force that she now lay sprawled, lifeless and limp, upon the earth.

Harry hoped everything was alright, as he couldn't feel his arms or legs. If the green creature wasn't holding him, he would have surely crumpled to the ground like a ragdoll. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, likely the only thing keeping him conscious. He sensed the large beast moving swiftly and found himself looking up into its neon green eyes gazing back at him. There was a palpable wave of anger emanating from the beast, but to Harry's surprise, it wasn't aimed at him.

" Fairy, alright?" a low voice grunted out.

Harry blinked, dumbfounded as the green being talked, “yes… ah… thank you?”

The green creature let out a grunt and began to leave, a look of irritation on its face as it glanced up at the sky. Harry was clueless about what it was gazing at, and he simply couldn't find the energy to care. Maybe he could allow himself a moment to relax, acknowledging that the green beast hadn't harmed him yet.

Harry turned his gaze to his aunt's lifeless body, exhaling deeply. A peculiar sense of satisfaction filled him, knowing it was finally over.

"What's your name?" Harry asked abruptly, capturing the attention of the green figure. His eyes were an even more intense green than Harry's, reminiscent of neon signs glowing in city nights.

"Hulk," he grunted, beginning to walk away without releasing Harry. Before Harry could comprehend Hulk's intentions, Hulk broke into a run and leaped into the air, resembling an enormous green grasshopper. Harry would always deny the high-pitched scream that escaped him as he clung to Hulk's arm while they soared skyward—without any say in whether he wanted to join or not.

Chapter Text

Growing up, Harry had learned early on a few key facts about surviving in the world. The Dursleys had taught him the importance of hiding his achievements, dumbing down his tests and assignments, and not drawing any attention to himself of any kind. The magical world had then taught him to stand on his own two feet, to live not survive, all because the world was a fickle thing.

Again and again, Harry had been told that he was nothing, a nobody. That he was someone that should neither be seen nor heard, someone who should only do what he was told to do, even in the magical world, this did not changed. So, he learned how to overcome that. From the very first time he entered their world, the magical community already had a specific picture of him painted in their minds. So, they took how he behaved for granted, thinking he should already know everything to understand in the magical world.

He had been an angry teenager, acting up almost all of the time. Only his two closest friends could level that out, and even then, he was rash and had problems with authority and what was expected of him, but he survive; somehow, he always survived.

This time was no different.

"Oh, sweet Merlin!” Harry felt his heart trying to beat out of his chest as he gripped harder at the large, green arms that were holding him against an even larger chest. That he had not been crushed yet was a miracle. But it did not take long before they came to an abrupt stop, still with several miles behind them.

The landing jolted him hard before Hulk came to a complete stop, and the green beast was not even winded by the jumping trip they had gone on. He blamed the fact that his day had been so awful and that all his senses were tense and peaceful, but his grip on the big arm was rock hard, and he could not get his arms to listen.

"Fairy, let go?" Hulk grunted, somewhat annoyed.

Harry struggled to push down the bitter taste of bile rising in his throat, his voice shaky as he loosened his grip, "Yea-h, sorry." He swallowed again, attempting to gather his strength and find his footing, but his legs betrayed him. He was gently lowered to the ground like a toddler who hadn't yet mastered the art of walking. Not that he minded, as his body was in no state to support itself. His limbs felt weak and unsteady, and every attempt to stand seemed futile. "And, I'm not a fairy," he insisted, though his voice lacked conviction.

"Small, have wings," Hulk remarked, stating it as if it were the most obvious fact in the world, "A fairy." His words hung in the air, simple yet absolute, as he pointed out what seemed to him an undeniable truth.

Harry glanced up at the towering green figure, about to protest that it didn't make him a fairy, but he didn't get the chance before dizziness overtook him. He quickly lowered his head between his knees, taking deep breaths and exhaling forcefully in an attempt to steady his breathing. The adrenaline coursing through his system was likely the only thing keeping him from collapsing.

The whole situation suddenly crashed down on him; he felt all of his emotions inside of him swirling violently. And worst of it all, he could feel how his grip on Harald's part of his soul slipped. And wasn't that a messed-up way to think? Harry let out a groan; if this was like how it was to be reincarnated, he wanted a raincheck. It all messed with his head and senses, and he could no longer keep the two apart.

Why did he always have to kill to survive? He didn’t enjoy it; even if he were the master of death, it was almost the opposite. But, death came to everyone, in the end, so he cherished the living. Still, it felt like he had committed a grave sin.

A sudden flash of memory invaded his mind, the image of his aunt's dead body lingering in the fallen rubble. He could feel the magic swirling around him like electricity. Was it over? Was she dead? She did not look it, so perhaps she had survived?

No, no, that's impossible! Right? It had been a direct hit to her chest, and he had heard the noise of crushed bones. So even if a so-called ‘god’ was almost immortal because of how slow they aged, they could still be killed with enough damage, look at Harald, and what he had gone through, so she had to be dead.

But, he did not know that now, did he? No, Harry did, he had felt it, but at the same time, it was as if the part of his brain he was now using didn’t want to listen to that logic.

Harry felt how his breathing was going out of control, and dizziness made him break out in a cold sweat all over his body. He could feel it and his mind registered that he was breathing too quickly and with too shallow breaths, yet he could not slow them down. Harry let out a dry sob, his hands dug into his hair as he tried to get the pain to distract him from the floods of emotion that hit him, but it was not working. The shallow breathing made his mind spin faster and faster, and his fingers tingled as the panic held him in its grasp.

“- Fairy?”

Why, oh why was this happening right now? His magic tried to break out, and he forced it down as much as he could. Harry gritted his teeth as hard as he could and tried to get his own body under control; tears were streaming down his cheeks as all the emotion was welling up inside of him. He had no idea if it was Harald or him, and honestly, did it matter? It did not.

“Fairy not calm?”

Harry wanted to laugh, but the fast breathing was not helping at all. He could hear Hulk but could not quite register what he was saying. Harry tried to hold his breath to stop the ragged sobs that tried to tear out from his chest, making everything ten times worse. His throat was already starting to feel raw, like he had swallowed a sack of nails and rough-edged shrapnel. Harry had been ready to kill her, right there and then. He had wanted it so badly, to kill her, hear her scream in pain as she drew her last breath, especially after that previous reveal of her plans.

Harry felt a surge of anger in his panic; it had been his right to kill her! She would not have been let off the hook so easily, not like this. He felt cheated. His wings drew closer around him, blocking out most of the light and holding in the magic in his own space, not that he noticed anything of that as the panic dragged through him. His head was spinning, and yet, he still could not control his breathing.

"Hey, hey, easy there."

Harry jerked to the side, surprised by the unfamiliar voice; his wings instinctively folded back, and his hands shot forward as he barely restrained himself from attacking the source of the voice. He glanced up at the stranger, but his vision quickly blurred.

"It's okay, you're safe," a soothing male voice assured Harry, who struggled unsuccessfully to stop his head from spinning. "He's gone and won't harm you; I promise. Just breathe."

He? What was the man talking about? Harry could not even think as he saw a male with chestnut hair and soft brown eyes come closer. He suddenly could even feel a weak hint of magic inside the man's core, not much so he was likely a squib, yet it felt safer to know that the man was someone who had magic.

"Come on, breath with me."

Harry saw the man reaching out to one of his hands slowly, giving him time to refuse before warm hands held his cold, tingly ones as the brown-haired man brought his hand up to his chest.

"Here, feel the movement, and try and follow, you don’t need to think, only feel it," the man said softly, and Harry felt how the man's chest was slowly rising up and down underneath his fingers with every inhale and exhale he took. Harry stared at his hand and tried to force his own body to adapt to the rhythm, deep breath in and slow out, in and out. The silent commands began to repeat in his mind like a mantra as he slowly started to get a grip on his body.

"There you go."

It took a while, but Harry’s breathing slowly started to even out, and he gradually became more aware of his environment. Finally, every sensation began to filter through his panic attack. The cold breeze that was chasing his wet forehead, the tingling of warmth underneath his hand that moved as the unknown man breathed, the vibration of his chest as he spoke. Harry blinked one time and then another, trying to make his mind work as he started to see the unknown man with the calming presents before him.

“Good,” the man smiled down at him,

But Harry had no idea of what he was looking at, though. Perhaps he hit his head too hard or broken something; Because he could not even begin to imagine what on earth could make him hallucinating a half-naked man crocheting in front of him. And secondly… What in the nine realms was this strange feeling ebbing out of the man? He felt this strange sensation of… energy; it made him feel both safe and strangely protected, it didn't make any sense. Luckily enough, the male seemed to have some kind of magic core.

"Do you feel any better now?"

Harry looked up slowly and stared for a second before he nodded and drew back his hand, "Yes, thank you," he said, throat still raw.

"It was the least I could do" The man stood up, one hand holding up his trousers and the other scratching his neck as he looked away from Harry.

Harry blinked slowly, his mind still trying to work correctly, so Hulk had left him on a farm like he was a stray, with a half-naked man that looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but there. But he could have sworn that he had heard Hulk's gruff voice in the middle of his panic attack. His Cheeks heated up in embarrassment as this stranger had witnessed him having a panic attack. Gosh, how could he always find himself in this position? He hated to show his weaknesses.

Harry sighed, there was nothing to do about it right now; at least he got away from his aunt. But she was finally gone; it was a small victory even if he was not the one who could execute his revenge. He reached a trembling hand up and tugged out his shrunken trunk from underneath his shirt. He tried to control his movement, but the numbness in his fingers was making it complicated. But he let the magic tickle his palm as the action did not need any words, only intention.

With the older, still half-naked male in front of him, Harry was sure enough that he was a normal wizard or even a squib; he could afford to do some magic. He needed his potions right now if he even could dream of functioning in the coming battle. So as the trunk grew, Harry sat upon and opened the lid before he put down his whole arm in it and brought out his, what Hermione called - whatever you required in case of an emergency- bag and pulled out two vials of potion with the correct label.

Harry pulled off the cap of the first bottle and swept its contents without blinking, have done this enough time to know what to expect. Slowly he felt the fatigue disappear as the potion sank his throat as he drank the rest of the bottle's contents. Then, as he finished the first one, he raised the next electric-blue potion right away, threw his head back, and drank everything at once.

Harry sighed in relief as the headache subsided and his muscles ached less than before. It may be a short-term solution, but there was no time to rest. He needed to find Loki and fast. Harry looked up at the brown-haired man staring at him with wide eyes, shock written over his face. Oops, so not a wizard? Well, Harry could not find it in him to even regret what he did.

"I apologize for disturbing you; it was not my intention to trespassing on your land," Harry said in a slightly overly polite voice; why had Hulk just left him here? At least he could not point him in the right direction. Was he even near New York?

“I would appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone that I was here or… the little trick you just saw,” Harry said as he shrunk his bag again and stood up on slightly unsteady legs but stretched his arms in the air and stretched the stiff muscles. The muscles protested by the movement but soon gave in, and he felt the wings follow in the movement. But the tiredness and the gnawing desperate feeling were gone, and he felt surprisingly refreshed.

The dark-haired man opened his mouth to say something but closed it again, and Harry could first see him with a steady gaze and cast black spots that penetrated his field of vision.

"Ah, what? No... I don’t live here…. Are those ... wings…? "The man started, and Harry looked over his shoulder and tried to hold back a groan of discomfort when he saw how dirty and messy they were.

"Yes, they're real and incredibly dirty," Harry replied with a grimace as he drew one of the wings closer, carefully adjusting the feathers that were misaligned. The sensation of his fingers brushing against the sensitive tips sent a pleasurable shiver through him. He was starting to realize that he always needed his wings to be in perfect order. Still, having wings protruding from his back was an unusual experience.

However, it still felt completely normal; he blamed Harald for that part. But right now, as he did not have time to groom them now, perhaps later. He spread them out and struck his wings one last time before pulling them close to his back but still leaving them out. He had not forgotten that they were in an unknown place, and at any moment, he might need a quick retreat. He looked around in one last attempt to see the green giant without any success.

But then he remembered something else the man had said under his panic attack; he had been told that he was safe and that ‘he’ was not here. That was strangely put, and the man did not live here? Harry let his green eyes travel over the man with a calculating gaze.

"So, you did not see someone else with me?" he asked, pulling out the tassel that had held his hair in place, letting the long black lock of hair fall wildly over his shoulders before collecting it in a messier man-bun once more.

"N-no, he isn't here anymore and will not come back if I have anything to say about that" The brown-haired man looked away while clenching his jaw shut.

Harry's gaze was drawn back to the brown-haired man when he heard his tone change, and he seemed to get tenser; his eyes narrowed a little. So, his theory was not so stupid after all. Could this man be Hulk?

"Are you sure?" Harry asked him, tilting his head slightly to the side

"Yes...positive, he will not cause you any more harm or anything, so you don’t have to worry about that. I'm sorry that he caused you any harm or panic in the first place. That should never have happened."

Harry blinked, surprised by the man's nervous answer; why was he acting like it was a bad thing? And he continued to talk about the Hulk like he was another whole other being. But, then again, he probably was, or else would the male remember what had happened.

"There is no need, he is the one who helped me in the first place, and I need to thank him. He didn't do anything wrong or anything I wouldn't have done."

"Wait, what?” The man asked, suddenly stepped back from Harry, "He did what?"

"He saved me. Even if I would have won in the end, he finished the fight faster than I predicted that I would have. " Harry answered honestly. As the man did not move or pose a significant threat at that moment, Harry took the time to let his gaze wander to the side. They were on a farm; an old and broken house stood not too far from them, and a half-demolished barn behind it. Nothing someone could live comfortably in, so he was probably safe for now.

"Do you know a way out of here?" Harry suddenly asked.

"Well… no ... I do not," The man said as he avoided looking around, always keeping Harry in his sight. "Excuse me for asking, but -what- are you?"

Harry looked over at the man again, slightly amused, “So you are asking me what I am, and not who?” He smiled; the man shrugged.

It was strange, the energy and weak magic that was leaking out from the brown-haired man, that is. Harry knew that his looks had changed quite a lot from his appearance before, yet his lightning bolt scar was still visible on his forehead. There was no way he would break the statute of security if the man were a squib, even if he didn't know about him.

" I'm a wizard, with magic and all that."

"You have magic?” The brown-haired man asked, suddenly his whole body going stiff as if he were in danger. ”…Like Loki?"

How he said Loki’s name like something vile made Harry's eyes widen; how… did he know about Loki? "Perhaps… what is it to you?"

The brown-haired man suddenly looked a little green in the face, and Harry narrowed his eyes at him, ready for the Hulk to come forth. This man could only know about Loki if he had been in contact with the god, and somehow Harry did not think he was one of Thanos's minions. So that meant he was one of the people who had locked Loki up in that glass cage.

“He attacked us,” The man said, not relaxing even a bit. “Killed a lot of people the other night.”

Harry frowned at that; he suspected as much. Loki had always had a darker side to him, and if his aunt had twisted his mind, it was a highly probable that he would go out on a killing spree.

"If you know about Loki, then you perhaps have heard if Thor is here?” Harry suddenly asked; he hadn't seen the blond god, but he could not believe that Asgard would allow Loki run amok on a planet like this without stepping in.

It appeared to be the right question as the brown-haired man looked much more human than before. "You know Thor?"

"You could say that," Harry said, rubbing the nape of his neck; the man did not need to know it was both long time ago and in another life. Should he find Thor first before hunting Loki down then? If he were being manipulated, it was a possibility that Thor would only make things worse, as he had never had the patience to wait or the right mind to think up a strategy.

No, Harry had to find Loki on his own and break whatever spell his aunt planted in his mind. Then, after all that, he probably would need Thor’s help. The dark-haired man looked doubtfully at Harry, then he suddenly gave off a deep sigh and pinched between the bridge of his nose as he came to a conclusion he did not like.

"So ...?" Harry asked, "What's your name? or should I still call you Hulk?"

The brown-haired male hesitated before answering, ".... Bruce."

He nodded, "Pleasure to meet you; I'm Harry, now-" Harry clapped his hands together. "Which way is New York?"

Bruce looked at him and opened his mouth but did not have time to reply as a strange pressure wave suddenly came over the sky, soon followed by an intense bang. The clouds started to move in a particular direction and darken somewhat,

"Shit,that way i supose" Harry murmured as he stared up at the sky, feeling the shift in the atmosphere. This was not good; it was probably some portal. Was it that army he had seen in Loki's mind? Thanos’s scout group?

"That does not look good," Bruce said, and Harry had to agree.

A pressure wave of energy hit them again, and this time the clouds shifted in a neon-blue glow. Harry looked over to the half-naked man, "Do you believe you can transform back into Hulk, and have him jump there?"

Bruce shook his head. "No, that's not something I can do; I can’t control him like that."

"We do not need to control him. We need him to get there fast," Harry mused; they needed to get there as fast as they could, but if he could not make Hulk do what they wanted, it could go badly. Whatever Loki was doing right now was causing chaos. They had no time to stand here and argue. Harry had a feeling that they would need Hulk to take down the army that Loki had been given.

He went over to an old car that had a drape over it, and with a smooth movement, ripped out a large piece and let his magic flow into the old fabric, cleaning it, and starting to change its shape into a pair of trousers and a shirt. It wasn’t much, but better than letting the man run around half-naked.

"Here," Harry tossed the newly created clothes to Bruce, who caught them easily

“What? How did you do that?” He held them up before himself and felt the material, astounded that it was real, “This is impossible!”

“No, it's magic” Harry grinned before freezing when a cold sensation swept over him, his gaze fixed on the sky and the feeling that spread from there, from Loki. He needed to get there, and quickly, whatever happened, it was devastating. Making up his mind, he looked over at Bruce, who had hesitantly put on the clothes and had a strange look on his face, muttering that none of this was making sense let alone possible.

Harry held back a snort; with magic, everything was possible; even the word impossible had possible in it, it was only your own mind that limited you, or your focus, or intent. Well, there were a few things, but nothing was truly impossible.

"I'm sorry about this," Harry said, and without further warning, took the other man's arm and vanished from the spot with a loud bang, not caring to mask his apparition.

Seconds later, they reappeared in the city, people screaming all around them, though not from the sight of two men suddenly appearing before them. That was probably the least of their problems as aliens swooped around them, and explosions could be heard from somewhere in the background.

"Oh god," Bruce covered his mouth as he was getting a little green in the face, "Oh god, what the... hell... was that ...?"

"Sorry," Harry said, "there was no time to explain, and it was the easiest way to get here," He told him and let his eyes swoop over the destruction all around them, and by the norns, he was so bloody done with this, why did it have to be another war zone?

"Did we just teleport right now? Did we actually teleport?"

Harry glanced over at the brown-haired man and felt how it tickled along his back, he could feel how his magic stretched in all directions. The energy was so thick in the air that it almost made the hairs on his arms stand up.

"There is no time to explain, sorry," Harry hurried to say and started walking towards the chaos, sure that his soulmate was in the middle of it. He looked around, and wherever Harry looked, he could see dead bodies and destruction; his gaze swept over the crowd that ran behind a barricade. This would not work; he needed to get higher up. He looked up at the buildings, which felt as if they could fall at any moment, so there was no point in going up there.

Loki was right there. Harry felt his heart speed up; finally, he would see him. He looked towards the most prominent building with 'Stark' printed on its side. He was up in that tower; Harry was sure of that. He looked at the soul mark that was now visible underneath his shirt; he could feel a ticklish sensation over his skin, almost like the flowers were dancing at the closeness of its partner.

"I hope we meet again," Harry said to the still astonished Bruce behind him, "And thank you for your help back there," and seconds later, he disappeared with a loud 'pop', leaving a confused Bruce in the ruin of the city.

.⬝:*¨¨*:⬝.💓.⬝:*¨¨*:⬝.☯.⬝:*¨¨*:⬝.💓.⬝:*¨¨*:⬝.

Loki looked out over the beautiful view that spread out in front of him, screams echoing alongside explosions. A golden glow swept over his face, and he felt the non-existent new weight of his helmet as he stood, proud of the chaos he had created.

He breathed in contentedly and could taste the fear and pain in the air, it was so electric, and the metallic taste made him shudder with anticipation. The sudden thump of his brother, on the other hand, destroyed everything, and he quickly turned to the angry god.

"Loki! Turn off the Tesseract or I will destroy it!" Thor held out his hammer and glared at his brother; this madness would end right here, right now.

"You can’t, and there is no stopping it," Loki pointed at him with the scepter, "-There is only war."

Thor's face darkened, "So be it."

Loki jumped down with a war cry, and Thor danced out of the way with ease and swung back in response. Unfortunately, the scepter blocked Thor's hammer as it flew at Loki’s head, making blue sparks fly all around them, and he took a step back to recoil from the force. But Loki did not let him regain his balance and continued to attack.

It was like the old days when they had trained together, and Thor had constantly challenged him to duels to show who was the best and teach him his place. But, of course, Loki would never forget the humiliating feeling when the spectators had all laughed at him, how they had whispered among themselves about what a failure he was, how magic was only for women, how he was weak.

Loki never understood how they could say so. Just because he had too much magic, he was singled out. Loki roared in pure anger when he struck out at Thor, who ducked as Loki fired a ball of scepter magic at him. The chitauri army swarmed all around them, blowing out bits and pieces of buildings. But this passed Thor and Loki, who danced around each other, exchanging blow after blow. It was not until a large aircraft interrupted them and Loki's attention was taken away from him that Thor took the chance he needed to gain the upper hand.

Weapons were forgotten; as Thor began to strike with only his fists, letting his punches rain down on Loki. Anger and a horde of other emotions seeped through him; the feeling of being betrayed was the strongest. How could Loki do something like this? He roared and let his fist hit Loki straight in the solar plexus and then grabbed him.

"Look at this! Look around you!" he bellowed, staring at Loki, who for a second looked completely despairing, almost lost. But he did not care; this had been going on for too long, "You think this madness would end with your rule? "

For the first time, sky-blue eyes met with the dark jade green. "It’s too late, Thor,” Loki breathed out hard, staring at his brother. "It's too late to stop it; I... I cannot do it."

"No brother, we can do it,” Thor gritted out. “Together, please, brother" he held on tightly to Loki's arms, afraid that if he let go, he would lose his brother yet again. For a second, Thor could see the desperation in his brother's eyes, and suddenly as if by lightning, Loki's eye colour changed. It was nothing that Thor had noticed before as a blue membrane swept over them, probably with a new spell. Loki’s facial expressions were morphed into a snarl, and before Thor could understand what happened, he gave off a painful grunt, as a knife was embedded in his waist, between the pieces of his armour.

"You were always the sentimental type," Loki grinned. “Once a fool, always a fool.”

“Loki!” Thor bellowed, angry as he attacked again, fury fueling his movement, but he did not hold back this time. Instead, he lifted Loki over his head and slammed him into the ground as hard as he could; Loki let out a strained sound before he, seconds later, rolled over the edge of the balcony and started to free-fall down.

Thor pulled out the knife and threw away the awful little thing, and looked out over the destruction that was spreading. Then, he bent down and picked up his hammer from the ground, and began to spin it in preparation for flying away from there.

However, a sudden loud noise behind him in connection with the feeling of magic, caused the hammer to change direction quickly, and he threw it at the new intruder, without seeing who appeared, in the belief that it was an alien who followed Loki.

Harry barely raised a barrier in pure reflex before something compelling struck into it. The blow caused yellow-blue cracks to appear in his shield, and the magical power of the wave made him take a step back. Even though he had not physically received the blow, it felt like the vibration was singing straight into his arms. He held his arm outward, ready to attack, when he stopped and stared at the owner of the said hammer.

"... Thor?" And quite rightly, the blonde mountain of muscle stood in front of him, which felt very strange, one thing to see the memories and another to experience it in real life.

“Who are you? And how did you appear out of thin air!?” Thor stared at him and called to himself his hammer, which had flown away, and held it menacingly in front of him, ready to let it fall against the barrier again. "What sorcery is this?"

Harry held up his hands. "Hey, hey, take it easy; I do not mean any harm."

“No!” Thor sucked in a harsh breath as he looked at his opponent, and he did not like what he saw, "You have no right to take that appearance," his voice boomed, "what gives you the right to mock the dead?! ” He demanded as he threateningly walked forward.

"Bloody hell," Harry muttered, his luck was non-existent, and Harry wanted a refund. “We do not have time for this”

"No! you are not going to get away, imposter," Thor growled as he pointed his hammer at Harry. “You have no right to…."

"-I Have all the rights in the world!" Harry snapped; every minute that passed, the bigger the group of Thanos’s minions got, and given the chaos going on around them, he had a sure feeling that Loki had something to do with this. "Harald is who I once was, and I'm him Thor, not an imposter or anything."

"Did Loki put you up to this?" Thor asked, “Is this one of his illusions to stall me?”

With almost a head and a half taller, Harry did not feel safe to stay in place as he took a step back, shield hard in front of him. "No, Loki does not even know who I am right now!"

That was not the right thing to say as Thor attacked the shield again, and this time, it didn’t just crack, it splintered, bursting into hundreds of dancing pieces. Harry rolled away and missed the hammer by barely an inch, smelling the ozone produced by the magic hammer. Harry threw himself away again, even though he was an experienced warrior and had since then started both combat and physical training. This body was still so different than the one he was used to, too short, too agile.

"Stop it, your dunderhead!" Harry shouted as he dodged again. But, when the hammer was thrown back without him expecting it, it hit his shoulder, and Harry let out a scream at the burning pain that shot through him. Harry lost his balance when Thor's massive legs kicked him in the stomach, and he slid along the ground and swore when he felt a metallic taste in his mouth, feeling Thor approaching menacingly.

He growled low, and when the next blow came against him, Harry quickly dodged and let his magic leak out of him. He felt the tingling along his arm and the shoulder blade, and the falling sensation in his stomach when he realized that he was airborne for a second. His wings suddenly protruded from his shoulder blades, ripping off most of his shirt as they did, and Harry withdrew himself with a hissing sound.

He flew out in the air, and to a safer distance from the angry man in front of him, Harry’s magic swirled around his whole body, and the shadows sought him out; it was like they felt their master calling on them. Harry held out his arm with his soul mark for the world to see

"THAT'S ENOUGH!" Harry shouted and glared down at the blond man, "We do not have time for your ignorance Thor. Look here!"

Thor stared at him with his mouth open, which closed and reopened without any sound coming from it for a good while. Then, suddenly, the blond prince took a step back, shock and disbelief written all over his face. “What? No... H-Harald? how can this be, you… you… no ... ”

"Who else? I said it was me from the beginning but did you listen? No, of course not ...! ” Harry growled, the pain in his arm lancing up his shoulder, shit that hurt. He had wholly forgotten that magic tools did much worse damage than a usual weapon could do. That Thor only needed to see his soul mark to believe him felt like a joke; he knew that the pattern was unique to each pair. There was no way another couple could have the same designed as it was a sign of their united soul.

“But you are dead! We all believed that you were lost in the void; it has been so long that everyone thought you would never come back to us. "Thor shook his head so that the hair danced around," No, "he suddenly said, he was not going to be made a fool of yet again.

"You are only an illusion created by Loki to stop me. There is no chance…that..." that they had given up the searched as he was still alive. But Thor could not find the strength to acknowledge his failure.

"We both know Loki is not in his right mind to create this kind of illusion" Harry lowered himself towards him and landed on the ground.

"Prove it," Thor demanded; he could not get his hopes up, this could not be.

Harry blinked and held back a sigh; what did the man not understand about 'we do not have time for this?’ He pulled a hand through his sweaty hair that had come of his bun already. "You want me to prove what exactly at a time like this?"

"That you are Harald, that this is not some mind game or a plot for something else."

Harry had to admit that the variation of Thor in front of him was different from the one he had in his memories. Even though he looked the same, it seemed like he had matured a bit, given that he did not trust him verbatim or dismissed him completely.

"I was nine years old when I first met Loki. He had been poisoned, and I nursed him back to health," Harry said as he stared right at Thor, "the next morning, a bumbling band of four warriors broke the silence of the woods in search of your lost brother. I do believe I heard you arguing over whose fault it had been to drink from the enchanted river of wine and pass out from it.”

"How…"

A red blush spread over Thor's cheeks; Loki had not been with them at that moment they all collapsed. But Harry was not done; he had so many juicy blackmail materials from Harald’s memory, it was like remembering a movie or a book. It was just there.

"And when you were younger, you thought it was a wonderful idea to borrowed your mother's dress…."

“.... Alright! alright, enough!” Thor held up his hand. "I believe you; I believe you" how could he not, as these were some of the most personal memories. Thor started to grin as he walked over to Harry, ignoring the reflective twitch that ran over the more petite man when Thor wrapped his arms around him.

"You are real," Thor muttered like he still could not believe it; how could he? It was a gift from Valhalla. A miracle. "Where have you been all this time? We searched all of the realms, and then Loki finally lost his mind.”

"It's a long story, which we do not have any time for now," Harry replied and took a step back, uncomfortable with having him so incredibly close. "What exactly happened with Loki, Thor?"

"He is trying to take over the earth?” Thor gripped his hammer again in anger as he remembered where they were, and even if he was happy to have his brother-in-law back, he was disappointed in his brother. “Perhaps he is seeking revenge, like the last time, or maybe he has some kind of vendetta against humankind? Do you think it is because I care about Midgard?”

Harry held back another sigh, and there he was back again to his egocentric thinking; that was the Thor of Harald’s memory. Yet, the feeling of happiness inside him was his own, and Harry smiled slightly and shook his head.

"Not everything is about you or Asgard, and besides, his action is not wholly his own," Harry said and then frowned. "He does not do it to attack you; Earth was targeted by the one who is controlling Loki. That reminds me, why haven't you done anything before now?"

"What do you mean?" Thor asked

He... couldn't possibly be serious, could he? Harry gaped at the blond god, his mind racing in disbelief. His mouth opened, ready to unleash a torrent of words, but he clamped it shut, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "I've both sensed Loki's presence and witnessed him in the flesh before I arrived here. Thor, he's not acting of his own volition; he's under someone else's control, manipulated like a puppet on strings."

"WHAT?" Thor boomed as he threw out his arm in an angry gesture.

“He did not recognize me as I spoke to him before, I may not be the Harald you both knew, but what I can remember, I do look like him," Harry said as he walked over to the edge.

“What do you mean by that? you are Harald- ”

"Yes, and no," Harry scratched his scalp, high enough to see all the destruction taking place, "I do not know who I am right now, a bit of both, I believe. But! that is not important right now; we need to stop whoever is hurting Loki.”

That caught the blond man's attention, "Do you know who is hurting my brother?"

Yet again, Harry could not help to feel frustrated, nor was it anger at the blonde’s word. Did they not know? Hadn't he noticed when something had suddenly gone wrong with Loki? His aunt had been doing something to him for a long while, yet no one had seen what had happened right under their thick noses.

But he held in that anger; he could not let that cloud his judgment from the real threat right now. He looked up at the portal.

"That is a portal of a scout group known as chitauri," Harry said and met his gaze, "and they answer to Thanos."

Thor let out a huffing sound, “That cannot be right, the mad titan? he is not real, only a story to make children behave”

Harry snorted. “Yeah? And who do you think it was that killed Harald the first time around? He certainly did not look like a fairytale to me.” He walked over to the side, trying to single out Loki from the masses.

Thor stared at him in surprise, and then there was something else, a flicker of shame? Of dread? "Then… then why hasn't the All-father stopped him?"

Harry paused, “I have no idea, Thor, why do you not ask him that? I have a few things I also need to talk to him about,” like how he could end up ignoring his youngest son to such an extent that he could no longer see the difference in who he was. Harry gritted his teeth. No, one thing at the time.

"Come on; we have to find Loki and stop this madness; he has wreaked too much havoc as it is.”

"Agreed." Thor went up to the edge and started spinning his hammer "follow me," he said before flying away like a bolt of blonde lightning over the warzone that was the City of New York.

Chapter Text

Harry liked to think of himself as a mature adult - he really did. He believed that he had evolved into something more than the angry and impulsive kid he had been in his youth. He believed, that he had finally grown up. Perhaps grown-up was the wrong word to use; he knew that he had been forced to grow up far too young, and it wasn't like his guardians had ever considered him a child. But with everything he had been through, he honestly thought he would have gained a little control over his life by now, but….

…who was he kidding? Harry knew that he still had one hell of a temper, and a concise one at that, when it came to his loved ones. So now, when he suddenly found himself almost abandoned by his blond, so-called brother-in-law, he could not help but feel irritation bubble under the surface of his skin, making his magic lash out in waves.

There was a steady, yet rushed humming in his blood that didn’t help at all; he knew that he didn’t have time for this. Whatever Loki was up to, with every moment that passed, he was a step closer to doing something that would be devastating. Harry knew this, he could feel the dread in the air like death hovering over the bed of a dying man. As if agreeing with him, a cold gust of wind hit his warm and sweaty skin, making a shiver travel down his spine. Yeah, this was so not his cup of tea, he thought, holding back an annoyed growl.

Follow me, Thor had said. Harry gritted his teeth, his wings were beating behind him, straining his already sore back. “Follow him straight into a war zone, without any care in the world…how in the nine realms did he even survive into adulthood?" Harry grumbled as he tried to speed up after the blond oaf, still reeling from him abandoning him to run off into the fight. Honestly, he believed they all had Loki to thank for Thor surviving this long.

But Harry could not understand why he made it sound so easy? Follow me, like it was the easiest thing to do, follow a damn flying hammer. Well, surprise, surprise, it was not that easy. But then again, when was Harry's life ever easy? Of course, Hermione would be furious with him if she ever found out about this. Furious, that he willingly flew into a battle zone. Thankfully, there was a big -if- in that sentence, and he would not voluntarily put himself in that position, no thank you, he was smarter than that.

Harry gained more altitude in the hope of preventing crossing another alien determined to slow him down. But as he did, he gained some perspective, he could barely see the silhouette of the thunder god so far in front of him, and then in only a blink of the eye, he was gone from his sight.

"Blimey, it's like he thinks it's easy to fly with wings like this than a flipping magic hammer,” Harry continued to mutter, irritated. He blew out some air between his clenched teeth as he tried to ignore the burning sensation that was now creeping up his spine.

Why couldn't he have slowed down for Harry to at least have a chance to keep up? Honestly, Harry had technically learned how to fly on his own barely a month ago. It wasn’t like Harald's memories were of any use to him as far as flying was concerned. Flying was a completely different type of memory, namely muscle memory, muscle memory to fly fast and far that he did not have.

Why couldn't his good for nothing past life be of more use? It was not like he asked for these memories nor to be the so-called reincarnation of Harald. Honestly, he had started to wish that he wasn’t; he had enough problems in his life even before gaining another life's worth of problems.

A painful jab shot through Harry's body, and he held back the scream that threatened to tear its way out of his throat. His whole body suddenly locked up, his wings convulsing, and he suddenly noticed that he was losing height. He could see the ground getting closer and closer as the wind tore at him like a rag doll.

As suddenly as he had lost control of his body, he regained it. Harry blinked in shock as the pain suddenly disappeared and flung out his wings, catching the cold wind again and halting his fall. The air burnt his throat as he breathed in rapidly, he tried to look around after what could have attacked him, but he couldn't sense anything to explain it.

He started to pat himself down—noticing nothing out of the ordinary. He frowned as he stared up at the sky like it had the answers he was seeking. What the bloody hell was that? It had almost felt like his insides were being torn apart, like his very soul wanted to separate from his body and fly away off on its own.

For a brief moment, Harry thought that everything around him had come to a halt like someone had pressed pause. Was the pain connected to Loki? It was possible. A sudden movement to his right made him look up only to stare at the alien that was hovering not far from him, with a spear pointing at Harry and a face almost entirely covered apart from the eyes.

As Harry caught the creature’s eye, he could feel the shift in the air, and then the alien gave out a high pitch shout, and suddenly there were a lot more of them swarming behind him, coming to a stop behind their apparent leader. Harry saw one of the creatures pull back its arm with what looked like an arrow, and in a matter of seconds, everything went from bad to worse.

"Well shit.” His sore wings were already pushed to the limit. Harry knew that he couldn't stay airborne for too much longer, and he would fail to lose them in his current state.

The sudden whistle of the strange arrow shot through the air towards him, and he dodged it, only to have the other aliens attack with the roar of their hovercrafts. There was no way he could win a fight like this, so Harry did what he could and dropped down to the ground. His wings folded at his back as he decided an airdrop was the best way to gain some distance.

Another attack sped past him, and he pushed himself to go faster. A new screech could be heard from above, and Harry spared a glance upward as he dodged yet another attack. Two whale-like beasts dropped down from the portal in the sky, long sharp flippers flapped in the air as they gained their balance, and their vast mouths opened in chilling war cries as the whale creatures dwarfed the skyscrapers around them and shook their foundations.

Aliens flew all around him now, and if he remembered correctly, they were called Chitauri, not that it mattered at the moment. People were screaming below him as they ducked out of the way of the falling debris that came after another hit missed Harry but got a building instead.

Although Harry had learned to be a little bit more careful in a war zone, especially when he had enemies hot on his tail, he still was, and was always going to be, a Gryffindor at heart. So, the moment his eyes fell upon a disturbing sight on the ground, he imminently changed direction without thinking, not caring about his pursuer; he had planned to go down anyway.

Harry watched as the young child, trapped between a group of aliens, outnumbered and surrounded, was backed into a corner as the people around him had abandoned him in their flee to security. Harry felt the energy collect in his outstretched hand, and the first spell left his lips as soon as he was close enough.

" Confringo"

The magic happily obeyed him as he called upon it; the spell hit one of the aliens, making it explode, successfully gaining the others' attention.

Harry turned his hand around at the aliens behind him, "Bombarda Maxima."

Before he knew it, the wall close to his pursuer exploded in a shower of rocks and concrete, blasting them away. The rest of the grounded aliens looked up at him and gave off an irritating war cry before they too started to shoot at him with everything they had.

Harry dropped to the ground and cast another confringo at the closest alien simultaneously. He took up an abandoned spear as he dodged a shot sent his way. He looked over at the child that had yet to move from his hiding spot, only staring at the scene in front of him with wide, scared eyes.

Too young to be on a battlefield, too young to see these horrors.

Harry sent another stunning hex at the nearest enemy and then another and another, making blue blood explode from their bodies as the spell hit them in the head.

Skidding to a halt in front of the boy's hideout, he threw up a golden barrier around them, attacks bouncing off the shimmering surface. Harry tried not to be sick by sight before him. No matter how many times he had fought in a bloody battle, he would never get used to it.

Death was thick in the air, and he felt how all the energy vibrated all around him. The feeling of a soul leaving its body made his skin crawl, and he felt dirty, alien or not, it had been alive and sentient enough to act and think and feel. Not to mention that battles were always chaotic, and there were causalities whether he wanted it or not.

Harry's brain was now on autopilot - split-second decisions were made in the blink of an eye; he stunned them, hurled bricks at them, dodged, and sent explosive spells at the creatures.

"Get down!" Harry ordered the boy, shocking him out of whatever trance the boy had been in, as he pressed the boy down to the ground as an attack was aimed straight at them. The shield exploded above them as Harry covered the now screaming boy with his own body, debris falling around them together with residual magic.

For a second, the only thing Harry could hear was an annoying ringing noise and his heartbeat pulsing in his ears, deafening. But then, he could suddenly feel the energy from the young muggle underneath him as the small body shook in fright.

Harry raised his head, trying to ignore how his vision swirled as he remembered where they were and looked around for the enemy, only to be met with black, scorched ground and cars around them as the magic had backfired, taking out most of the aliens around them. Harry let out a heavy breath he didn't know he was holding. Slowly his ears stopped ringing, and he looked down at the kid.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” Harry's eyes scanned him from head to toe but couldn’t see any wounds, some minor scratches on his forehead and hands, perhaps his knees too but otherwise nothing. The boy, who looked around 10 or 11 years old, looked up at him with wide brown eyes and shook his head.

“Good, we need to get you out of here. Do you know if your parents are close?” He said as he stood up and shook out his wings.

“N-o…..M-my Aunt and…and my Uncle was with m-me,” The child stammered out, and Harry saw how tears threatened to spill out of the boy's eyes.

“Hey, hey chin up, little one,” Harry said and kneeled. They did not have time for tears right now. “I'm certain that they got to safety and looking for you, okay? So no tears, save them until you are safe. Okay?”

The boy bit his lip so hard that Harry feared he would draw blood but then gave a short nod, eyes staring up at him, "okay, I-I won’t cry, Mr. Angel."

Harry felt his brow twitch at the new nickname, but Before Harry could correct the child, a vibrating war cry came from one of the enormous monsters that flew in between the buildings, and suddenly there was no time to think things through. The sound of stomping feet reached him, and he looked over his shoulder at the new batch of aliens that were walking closer to them.

"We better get out of here," Harry said as he scooped the body up in his arm, "I hope you are not afraid of heights," he said as the child stared back at him and shook his head.

"No, only s-spiders."

Harry could not help to snort at that, “You and me both, now hold on," Harry spread out his wings, ignoring the pain he felt by the action, and they shot up into the sky, leaving the aliens shooting at them from the ground.

The smell of burnt flesh coated the air, but Harry ignored it as he flapped his wings even harder than before, now with his extra burden. He held the child close and felt tiny arms around his neck, almost suffocating him as the boy's hands gripped his hair.

A red and gold metal robot flew around with a long trail of aliens, going somewhere Harry could not see as he avoided clashing with it only to have the boy in his arms shout out in alarm. Harry swayed to the side at the exact moment a hovercraft shot up behind them, narrowly missing them both.

"Bloody hell," Harry muttered as he avoided another hovercraft with an alien that had a nasty snarl on his face and a very deadly-looking gun pointed at them. He could not do anything other than evade and dodge as he tried to locate a safe place to leave the child.

"Mr. Angel, down there," the boy pointed down to a large group of people hurrying into a building; Harry nodded as he aimed for that group and landed in front of one of the policemen directing the flow of the people.

Harry put the child down; he looked up at the police officer. "Have any room for one more?" He asked as the small brown-eyed child stared up at him with wide doe eyes, his hands not letting go of Harry's clothes as he put his wings close to his back and let them melt into his body.

“O-of course!” The policeman said.

“Good, I don’t know where his guardians are”

“We take care of him.” The man nodded and put a hand on the child's shoulder.

Harry nodded, satisfied with the answer, looking down at the child that stared up at him, not yet loosening his grip on Harry’s clothes.

Harry hunched down and smiled softly at him; honestly, the child reminded him of a tiny, scared centaur foal back home with the same wide eyes.

"You did well, I knew it was scary, but you need to be brave now, alright?" Harry said. The boy nodded and slowly let go of his grip. “Good, I hope that next time we meet under better circumstances.”

The boy nodded again and gave him a small smile. “Yes! Thank you.”

Now free from the child's clutches, Harry didn't waste any time as he started to run down the street, trying to find out where he was or, more importantly, where Loki was. He closed his eyes and let his senses spread out, like an impulse that searched a larger area but now was only focused on Loki.

Harry's gaze suddenly turned to the tower where the portal was still open, dropping out new batches of enemies down below. Then he felt it, a slight tug of his magic, and suddenly something gold caught his eye; for a second, he thought that it was a golden snitch. Harry stopped in his tracks, trying to see whatever that was, and then when the flicker happened again, he felt how his heart started to speed up. Something told him that he needed to get back to the portal and the tower.

There was no way he could fly there, so he pictured his destination in his mind and pulled on his magic. Harry closed his eyes, and then he appeared in the same place he had done before and drew in a harsh breath.

For a brief moment, his heart stuttered in his chest. The eyes that met his felt so wrong; no longer were they the exact shade of the killing curse he had grown to know in his memories nor the moss green color of the wooden floor. No, Loki’s eyes were a sea blue color. Yes, he remembered that his eyes had been…wrong from his previous visions, but there was a huge difference between seeing him from a reflection perspective and in the flesh.

As Harry had appeared before Loki, his head had snapped up, weapon ready to fire at his command, yet his whole body froze at the mere look of the young male in front of him. Neither moved as they sized each other up.

"Well, what do we have here?" Loki hummed in his recognizable deep voice as he slowly strolled towards him. "If it is not the lovely reflection in his true flesh, how delightful."

Harry blinked; the bond firmly closed between them as he felt Loki’s curiously probe it. "Unfortunately, I cannot say the same," He croaked out, his throat suddenly feeling too raw with emotion that Harry suspected was not his own, yet in as way entirely his own. It was all so strange, he had all these memories and feelings for this man from Harald, and they were like his own, yet his mind screamed that he did not know this person in front of him. That Loki was a stranger to him.

Loki chuckled darkly. "Well… it was your fault now, was it not?" he shrugged as it was the most obvious thing; he looked over Harry again with an exciting twinkle in his unnervingly blue eyes.

"I can feel your power much better than before. This unique tingle.” Loki let his eyes rake over Harry's body, taking in the slender male, from his noticeable muscle to the long black hair that was messily captured in a braid. “Are you perhaps a seiðr?" Loki tilted his head.

Harry swallowed hard; his gaze followed the leather-clad warrior in front of him; as he couldn’t answer him, his throat locked up. A knowing smile adorned Loki's lips as he took a small calculated step to the side, not letting the male out of his sight.

"No," hummed Loki, "it does not feel like that kind of magic, something else maybe, a creature? Hybrid? Perhaps a Half-blood?" He looked at him thoughtfully, and Harry swallowed as he tried to moisten his dry throat.

“No, you don’t feel like a mortal at all…. what are you?” Loki hummed, intrigued as his eyes scanned Harry. “Well, that is a question for another date, perhaps. Why not come and work for me instead? We can make a pretty good team, and the world will be at our feet; what do you say?"

"No, thank you…. I’m alright, with my mind intact," Harry forced out, turning so that he always had Loki in front of him.

Loki raised a well-managed brow, "Pity, you would have made a pretty addition to my army" he shrugged, "Then why are you here? To stall me? Sorry to tell you, beautiful, but I have already won this battle."

“Not exactly,” Harry answered, “I honestly could not care less about this so-called war you want to start.” Lies, he did care.

The black-haired demigod looked at him before chuckling. “Do I have to remind you that I’m the God of lies?” He hummed, amused, quickly spotting the lie.

Harry snorted, feeling how his control had started to return, “to be the god of lies, you also need to know the whole truth, and I have the feeling you are missing out a lot of that.”

Loki slowed in his path, “you speak the truth mortal, yet, I have the feeling there is more to your words than you let on.”

“Ah, but that is where you are wrong," Harry smiled, feeling more and more in control than before; he could do this. Loki's weakness had always been his emotion; he had always felt too much. Poke too hard at his pride and ego and he would lose it. But now that he had Loki right before him, what could he do to break the hold that was on his mind?

"Do you want to do this again?" Loki sighed.

“That was always a flaw of yours. Thinking that you always knew best, even when you did not, you always fled to your library to find the answer or draw up a well-placed lie.” Harry looked intensely at Loki, hoping that he would see any kind of recognition.

But there was nothing. Why was that? Harry had no idea. From Thor’s reaction, he looked like Harald or was very similar, yet Loki did not react at all.

"It was something I know that Harald always loved about you, your curiosity and willingness to learn whatever it took." Harry had a small hope that seeing him would trigger some memory from Loki, but whatever Harald’s damn aunt had done looked like it had caused a lot of damage.

But the connection was still there, Harry thought, Loki had answered him, hell, he had even traveled to some kind of mirror world and talked to him through the reflection! So there was still a tiny connection between them.

Loki laughed lowly, “who? That name doesn’t mean anything to me,” yet, there was a sting inside his chest that Loki found annoying at the mention of that name.

“But it should, it be proof enough that there something is not quite right with your mind Loki, let me help you,” Harry breathed out.

Loki glared at him and gripped the scepter even harder, “Why should I take any help from you? Especially when there is nothing….” Loki’s words faltered as he held back a wince, yet he composed himself quickly “…wrong with m-e,” he gritted out, the scepter suddenly tumbling from his hands as he gripped his head in pain.

Harry felt hope bloom inside of his chest, he had seen it, it had been only for a second as Loki had faltered in his speech, but his eyes had shifted. There was no way that Thanos had ultimately gained control over Loki’s mind; his mate was far too powerful to let that ever happen.

“NO!” Loki's whole face froze, eyes narrowing. "Do…not. Speak of things you know nothing about." Then, his voice suddenly getting a dangerous hint to it, "…. My actions are my own, and no one else's,” he snarled like a wounded animal.

Loki suddenly appeared behind Harry as the illusion faded in front of him. And Harry barely had any time to react. “Now, die!” The arrogant tone in Loki’s voice was a giveaway that he thought this was all over, as he raised the dagger above his head and brought his arm down to end this annoyance before him.

Their surroundings suddenly shifted in the blink of an eye, and Harry turned around, arm raised only to let out a painful scream as the dagger planted itself into his arm, warm blood coating the silver blade. Harry sent a spell at Loki as he jumped backward, suddenly looking like he could not believe what he had done.

The burning sensation spread down Harry’s arm as the blade had most likely gone right through his arm, but he did not think it had broken any bone or artery, but then again, he was not a healer, and frankly, there was no time.

“Is that the worst you can do? Stab someone in the back; that is your memo, is it not?” Harry gritted out, holding his injured arm close as the burning sensation became almost numb as he cast a blood stop spell over the wound.

"Silence!" Loki lashed out; a blast of green light flickering off of his hand as he dove down to the scepter before lashing out once more.

Harry blocked the swing from the staff, his legs gave way under pressure, and the blow vibrated through his injured arm as he did so. In an attempt to get away, Harry struck out his leg and hit Loki straight in the side. The kick managed to get Loki to back away from him before Harry sent a bone-churning hex.

Loki just raised the staff and blocked it with a scowl on his face.

"Stop this madness, Loki; this is not you." Harry breathed out, flexing his finger in an attempt to gain back some of the feeling in his arm.

"Do shut up. You sound like that blond buffoon; how could a mere human know what I am?" Loki sneered as he shifted his body so that he could keep Harry in his line of sight.

"Because I know you, Loki,” Harry said as he had his arms up before him.

A flash of annoyance flickered across Loki's face before it turned into an ugly sneer again. "You know nothing!"

"I know enough," Harry countered, ducking from a blue light thrown at him and putting up a shield for the next one to hit.

Harry shot another stinging hex that hit the hand that Loki was holding the staff with —making the scepter fall with a clatter and roll away a few feet from them as Loki staggered back in slight surprise. Loki made an annoyed sound, reaching behind him, and grabbed the dagger again before he lunged it at Harry from a distance.

Harry dodged the attack, but not before he felt a new shift in the air, an outside source, as something was approaching the tower, fast. Seconds later, the large, green body of the Hulk was visible.

"Hulk, no!" Harry tried to stop the green beast, but there was no chance to stop him at this speed without hurting him; for a second, fear shot through Harry as he saw his aunt's lifeless body hurling into the wall instead of Loki and his whole being stiffened. But before Harry could react, Loki moved, the demigod was furious about the interruption.

"Enough of this!" Loki snarled, "you are all beneath me!” He roared as he stood up in anger from the rubble, "I'm a god, you dull creature…."

The green monster did not care a damn about what he was saying, and without any further ado, grabbed Loki's leg and began to whack him again and again into the ground. Creating a crater on the floor as he did.

"NO!" his body moved without him noticing, and before the Hulk could do more damage to Loki, a shield was created around Loki, zapping Hulk so hard that he was forced to let him go.

The green monster shook his head from the shock; it was like the electricity had only slightly dazzled him. Hulk roared in frustration as he hit his fists against the barrier. The force he used made the shield dig further down into the already destroyed ground, destroying the floor beyond repair.

Harry appeared right before the monster and the shield as he felt the surface crack underneath the raw strength. His wings flared out in an attempt to look bigger and more dangerous than he actually was at the moment.

"Don't!" Harry snarled as he stood ready to protect in front of his mate, one arm out in front of him, ready to blast Hulk away.

"Don't you dare hurt him anymore!"

Hulk roared in frustration; his saliva flew around Harry as he did, and the breath left a lot to be desired, but Harry did not move. Instead, sparks flew over his body as he collected more magic and energy around him, ready to fight the other one if necessary.

"Puny god bad, bad as the witch! Fairy moves!" Hulk roared and hit the ground in frustration.

"No! It is not his fault,” Harry defended and threw out his arm. "Look, he is down now, he will not hurt anyone.”

" Hulk punish bad man!" Hulk grunted out, poison green eyes staring him down, not liking the fairy challenging him over his pray.

"Not his fault," Harry growled.

"If you take even one step closer, I will not hesitate to hurt you, Hulk, Friend or not. I won’t let you hurt my mate," Harry threatened with a dark and dangerously low voice.

He could practically taste the simmering wrath radiating from Hulk, a palpable threat hanging in the air. Yet, the giant hadn't launched an assault. That had to mean something crucial. Harry, heart pounding in his chest, cautiously extended his hands, a desperate gesture of peace, signaling he was ready to back down if the monstrous force before him would do the same.

"I do not want to hurt you, Hulk, please," Harry pleaded as he slowly put his hands down. “Don’t.”

Hulk snorted, but then after a few seconds of staring, he heaved a massive, annoyed exhale and lowered his arms.

"I will handle this, please?” He was so close if he only could get Hulk out of here….” There are more worthy challengers outside there. You have seen the big one? Right?” Harry asked as he saw a flicker in the toxic green eyes as he looked out.

Hulk snarled, displeased, not liking the idea of letting go of his prey, yet he didn’t want to hurt the fairy, and the big thing outside put up more of a fight than the puny god on the floor had done.

Then Hulk stiffly nodded, "Hulk will let Fairy handle puny god."

Harry exhaled shakily, thanking merlin for the small mercies. As Hulk jumped away, Harry could feel himself relax his stance slightly. A low whining sound came from the crater behind him, causing Harry to quickly dismiss the barrier and sink to his knees next to Loki. He quickly checked his body for injuries and did a diagnostic spell. Harry loved that his idiotic soulmate was a demigod; injuries like these were thankfully not life-threatening but enough to immobilize him.

"Loki?" Harry asked, but the man didn't even stir as Harry touched him.

Harry knew that he would not get a better chance to help Loki than this. So he closed his eyes and concentrated on their now slowly opened connection before he started to leak his magic into Loki’s mind. Harry shuddering at the sickening sensation, swiped over him; he drew his hand back as he felt the body underneath him stir, and Loki suddenly opened his eyes. Only to stare up at the ceiling with a green-blue gaze, unseeing and dead to the world. Harry swallowed hard around the rock in his throat as he let his finger rest against Loki’s sweaty forehead, slipping into his scarred and scrambled mind.

He had never liked to use this kind of mind magic and could not precisely say that he was good at it. His failed lessons with Snape were proof of just that. But there was a big difference in the situations, especially when he was now trying to penetrate his other half. Whether he liked it or not, they were connected on a deeper plane.

Harry knew that he would do what he could as carefully as he could. So slowly, he started to sink into his mediative state and gaze into Loki’s being. The first thing transmitted over to Harry was Loki's senses; it was as if all were thrown at him at once. Like a dam that had started to crack or overflow.

There was doubt, denial, disbelief, and pain. Such a tremendous amount of pain was tearing through Loki’s shattered soul. It was almost like the sensation was stuck on repeat. Harry bit down on his bottom lips so hard that he could feel the metallic taste of blood as he tried to keep it all together. Harry could not withdraw, not now when he was so close. The warm body beside him was proof that he needed to endure it.

However, Loki's mind was now so shattered that it was nothing like the chaos Harry associated with his memories of Loki. In the past, Loki's chaos was a mix of fun and excitement, reflecting his desire for everything to revolve around him. Loki thrived in this disorder, relishing the small mischievous pranks he could pull off, stirring things up, and he loved being at the heart of it all.

But this was a different kind of chaos; it was too evil, too uncontrolled, and tainted with madness.

Harry was so damn close, he could feel it - he could truly feel it, Loki's magic that was shimmering underneath the surface. Still there and not completely gone. But that was not the only thing he could feel; Loki's magic was tainted with something else that was enveloping the demigod’s mind, something far too dark and evil to be his mate.

Harry closed his eyes again, and this time he let his consciousness touch Loki's, not just his magic. Unfortunately, as soon as he touched Loki's mind, he sucked in a gulp of air… this was worse than the simple mind manipulation his aunt had mentioned.

There was no other word for it than a memory loop. And that memory loop was playing again, and again, and again inside of Loki's mind. Every time Loki would gain a little bit of hope, a small glimpse of defiance, the memory loop was set to activate, and Loki would be forced to break down underneath it one more time until he truly broke.

And by the state Harry could feel Loki’s mind and soul was in, seeing how fragmented and shaken the very foundation was, so many parts of Loki’s soul were suppressed, and even more elements were damaged.

This was not his aunt's work; it was too… too… No, Harry had no words for this horror, but he knows that Thanos had played a considerable part in this mind-blowing torture. They had been using all the memories they could to turn Loki against his family, to turn him against himself.

Harry sucked in a deep breath as the memory started again. But this time, Harry was with him as the memory began again, and he let it drag him under, the void opening up in front of him as he was sucked into Loki's mind and his memory loop.

. ⬝ : * ¨¨ *: ⬝ . 💓 . ⬝ : * ¨¨ *: ⬝ .

Chapter Text

Loki knew where he was. It had been his decision to come here, after all, so how could he possibly not be aware? Yet, after his failure, he had anticipated something different—something more than... this.

A cold, unforgiving void enveloped him, an abyss of nothingness that defied prediction in its overwhelming embrace. The relentless pounding of his heart vanished, swallowed by the oppressive silence as he plummeted deeper into the emptiness. Where he belong. Each breath he took, though real, seemed to be snatched away, rendering him voiceless as he screamed out his pain over something he could no longer remember. It was as if the void was mercilessly peeling away his very essence, layer by agonizing layer, until all that remained was a hollow, numb shell.

How did he end up here again? Even betraying his expectations, he had chosen this, hadn't he? It was perfect for him.

Loki considered that this might finally be the end of his endless cykle of pain and regret. A contented smile playing on his lips as he gazed into the endless darkness enveloping him—or at least he assumed he was looking upward; it was difficult to discern.

He longed to gradually fade away, melting into the void, never to be found again. And the most comforting thought? He would never have to experience any feelings again. Who needed emotions to begin with? They only got in the way.

It was a fitting way to die for the silver prince, in the darkness, on his own - as he had been his whole life.

He was used to live in the shadows of everyone around him. Never too bee seen as more than a failure to the people of Asgard. Not that it mattered, as he wasn't Asgardian to begin with. Anger and betrayal flared inside him, squeezing at his heart so hard that he saw a blue flash before his eyes.

He was Loki, son of a monster, brother of no one, king of nothing.

He had nowhere to call home, nothing to call his own, no joy left, so he allowed the void to eat away at him. The darkness was so thick that it consumed everything until only the feeling of falling remained.

It slowly devoured him. It swallowed who he was, who he once had been, and who he could have become. When he had decided to let go of Gungnir, he had been prepared to die, and had welcomed it with open arms.

But since when did anything go as he wanted? Loki wanted to laugh but had no idea if any sound would come of it. Lately, it had been hard even to find the energy to care, so when he finally got his chance to let go, he took it.

What, once again, he did not predict, was that his magic would disagree with him. Loki felt the sinking feeling in his stomach increase; if he had eaten anything, he was sure it would all be coming back up again. When did he last eat? He couldn’t remember. However, his magic wanted to keep him alive. Why, he didn’t know, but it was condemning him to a circle of pain and disappointment.

Was he still falling? Probably - not that he cared - but the sensation was muted as another flash of blue numbed his already mudded mind.

Was this death?

No, this couldn’t be the afterlife because someone was waiting for him there; he knew that ,and he longed to be reunited with them. Deep down in his soul, he knew someone should be there, reaching out for him with a calmness not from this realm and that familiar, mischievous, bubbly laughter.

Yet, there was -nothing-.

He had failed him yet again.

...

Him?

...

Who had he failed again? Loki tried to remember but drew a blank. It wasn't Thor or his so-called family, that much he could tell. He felt like he had failed, but he couldn’t think of who it could be, but he had the feeling that it was someone important. Someone, that he needed the most.

Was this perhaps the sentence that the divine creator had given him? Was this his punishment: forever falling and reaching for something just out of reach until all that was left of him was nothing more than glimpses of life and an empty shell?

A puppet.

A flash of blue filled his eyes yet again before disappearing, leaving his head pounding with phantom pain as he plummeted further and further down into nothingess. His body began to burn from the inside out as he felt fire inside his skull. His soul was screaming in agony, withering as the fire lapped at his core, and his mind simultaneously.

It was in that moment that he lost what little he had left.

Loki shattered like fine glass, breaking underneath too much pressure. Small splinters of glass hung in the air around him like twinkling stars, frozen in a single moment. Then the blue flash was back, reflected in the glass, and the pain hit him, magnified by a billion shards. Unable to do anything else, he screamed.

The light hurt his wide-open eyes as a thousand needles drilled into his brain, and he found that he could not force his body to obey him and close them. He once again felt his feelings slip from his mind, twisting and contorting as his memories were forcefully erased.

Every little soft touch he experienced was now like the hottest of flames licking his skin; the bubbling feeling of happiness and love stabbed at his heart. He screamed - or at least he thought he had, as he was broken down piece by piece, like the shattered glass that pierced his skin, creating blackness on the impact.

His name slipped from his grasp; what was the point of a name anyway? What was the point of it all? As the last drop of his hope was drawn into the darkness all around him, everything changed.

The first blow was so decisive that the air in his lungs was forced out, then the pain exploded, and his mouth opened in a silent scream. Pain burned through his raw nerves like nothing he had ever felt before; blow after blow, his senses were assaulted repeatedly.

When it was not by hard blows to his body, it was being plunged into cold water that stole what little breath he had left. The sensation was freezing his lungs solid and suffocating him from the inside out. Every breath was a battle for the next, and slowly, he found himself losing.

Suddenly, the freezing sensation was switched as he was dunked directly into a roaring inferno of fire that clawed its way into his soul. The fast temperature changes tore his limbs apart with unimaginable pain as the blue flames licked up his skin and his skin burned a brilliant cobalt blue underneath them. He screamed until his throat was bleeding from the pain. He couldn't remember anything other than pain; he had lost all sense of time and his identity.

Did it even matter? Did anything?

…. No…. It didn’t.

He only wanted the pain to stop, begging for this torment to end, but he had no energy nor fight left in him. He lay there for a long time, his body completely numb and his mind almost wholly broken, his body waiting for the next sensation of pain, expecting it. Yet, as he stared into the darkness and the golden crack above him, nothing came.

He blinked slowly, he couldn’t comprehend what he was seeing. That crack, there was something there he wanted.

He tried to lift his hand, to reach for the light that was so close to him yet so far away. The golden light stretched into his darkness and chased the coldness away, and his body started to tremble as it approached, expecting a scotching heat from the incoming touch.

However, a part of him craved it, and he felt a sob escape his shattered throat as he tried to reach for the light with his hand. He wanted it, needed it, he knew, as his bleeding fingertips reached the golden light, he was there.

The golden light crept inside his hand, past his elbow and up his arm as he felt his heart skip a painful beat.

He couldn’t see him, but he could feel the magic pulse beneath his chest, splitting the darkness and acting like a balm to his broken soul as the gold drove the night away.

Then there was a whisper inside of him, foreign words, though all were as he had forgotten what words were. The voice spoke softly; he felt it filling him up, finally allowing him to feel what he had been waiting for.

Safety, and finally the feeling of belonging. This was the death he craved, begged for even. Death was finally welcoming him into its realm.

It was like his body had stopped working. It was as if no part of his body existed beyond this void expanse. Yet, he would swear that a painful whimper left his chapped lips as dead-cold, ghost fingers caressed the greasy strings of his hair. He closed his eyes, letting himself sink into the warmth that soothed his mind as death finally held him in its arms.

Rapidly, the warmth drained away and he started to panic, feeling the numbness creep closer again. He was afraid that he no longer would be able to handle the loss of this light again. He could not lose this. Not again, never again.

He tried to move his heavy limbs to take hold of the light, but his body wouldn’t listen; he could not reach it. A sob left his throat, and he tried desperately to claw at the magic; he would not be able to deal with that loss once more.

For what felt like an eternity, but was probably only a second, his efforts were in vain. He was losing hope when he felt the warm fingers reappear on his cheek. He pressed his cold face into the warm hand, sucking in a hungry breath of the warm smell of his light, and he held his breath as the warmth grounded him. The soft scent of wood, warm earth, and something he could not find words for invaded his nose and soothed his screaming soul.

'…Lo’i'

He blinked slowly as the words rolled over his mind; who was his light speaking to?

‘Lo…. Loki…...!’

That was… a name? Yes, that was a name, he recognized it, but it didn’t hold any meaning to him. He took a deep and painful breath.

‘Come back to me.’

He felt the panic well up inside him; who was this, Loki? Who was taking his light away from him? He did not want to let his light go; he was his and no one else. No one could have him. He held the light closer to him, terrified to lose it again.

‘I’m sorry,’ the light voice surrounded him like sweet bells ringing softly.

He understood the meaning of the words yet didn't understand why his light was apologizing. He bit down on his already tattered lips, tasting the metallic tang of his blood. He would not allow anyone to take his light away! A warm feeling slipped through him yet again, and he felt how the warmth settled itself in his chest, soothing the aching muscle there as it started to beat again.

'Don’t worry; no one is taking me away from you, not this time, Loki.'

Says the voice in my head; he grumbled back, not fully believing his light. He felt the fingers scratch his scalp again, making his mind relax. No, he could not let his guard down; there was something he had missed. He did not have all the facts, which made him feel uneasy… why was he uneasy again?

'I'm sorry, Loki, this is all my fault that you are like this.'

Wait, what? That could not be right; his light could do no wrong, and what was with this 'Loki' they spoke of? He sounded like a suspicious person anyway, no one his light should be concerned about.

A snort was heard around him, making his body vibrate in soft waves. 'Always so possessive.'

The sound of his light sight echoed all around him as he melted into the lovely touch, like a touch-starved kitten that wanted nothing more than a good cuddle. He was so tired that he could sleep for an eternity. Death was more welcoming than he thought it would be. He could feel a soft tickle of amusement as that thought left him, only to take a more serious tone.

‘Loki, I need you to come back to me,’

‘Why?’ he thought back. He was fine where he was.

‘Because I need you, would you allow me to help you?'

Why did he need him? He was fine where he was. Thanks, but no, thank you. He wanted to stay where he was a little longer, bathing in his light’s soft, warm embrace and nothing else. He didn't want to be separated from his light for even a second, and if he said yes to his light’s request, he felt like they would drift away from him. So, no. He didn’t want to come back to a world of nothing.

'I know that I’m selfish, Loki, that, after everything I have done to you, I still need you with me in the end. I promise you, Loki, I will make it up to you.'

He hesitated, not answering his light as he felt the nervousness spike in the air around them. He opened his mouth as he tried to find the words, but no sound left his throat.

‘Why?’ he asked again in his mind; he found it was easier to communicate that way than by speaking.

The light did not answer directly, and he could feel how the light tried to find his own words, yet, when he spoke again, it felt like nothing he had ever felt before.

‘Because I know now that one can’t exist without the other, and if you don’t make it, we will both fade away’ his soft voice was suddenly stronger, surer of itself ‘-and if that is what you want, then I will accept it Loki and I will fade away with you.’

Panic shot through him like an electric shock as his light said that, and he shook his head.

‘No! Don’t you dare,’ he hissed suddenly, as anger filled him?

His Light would not fade away. He sighed in frustration as he felt somewhat cornered by his light’s word and then felt himself nod. He would allow his light to help him; if his light needed his help, he would do anything in his power to see that through. But did he need to move? He did not think he could do that as his body still was painfully numb.

'Okay,' His light answered softly. ‘The only thing you need is to relax; I will do the rest.’

Ghostly fingers pressed themselves to his temple, and he could feel the warmth underneath them increase, but it was not painful as before.

‘Thank you,’ His light whispered as he could feel a warm feeling fill him up.

All of a sudden, it felt like he was being dragged through muddy water, towards the air. As he got closer and closer to the surface, he could feel how his body started to move, his hand reached up above his head, and he reached for the light that was slipping through the cloud of darkness, and he finally felt the push he needed to grab it in his hand.

For a second, nothing changed around him, then everything exploded.

. ⬝ : * ¨¨ *: ⬝ . 💓. ⬝ : * ¨¨ *: ⬝ .

Harry opened his eyes with a gasp as he left Loki’s core, only to be forced to close them fast as the light was too bright. He grabbed the fabric over his heart and tried to force air into his lungs; it felt like the air was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted.

Heat spread through his chest as he felt tears fall down his throat as he bent his head back. It was as if a void in his heart was quickly filled without warning, and he could finally feel what he had been missing his whole life.

The wall that had blocked Loki’s magic and soul had finally begun to break. Harry could feel Loki’s magic pulsating under his hand like a second heartbeat as he worked his way up from the magic he had been put under.

The sound of war beyond the broken windows was muffled, and no one noticed them despite several aliens flying past. As the enormous space whale wailing shook the very foundation of the building, Harry stared outside at the battle that still raged on. Harry felt Loki slowly move in his arms as he broke through the memory loop, freeing Loki from his torture.

Because it had been a magic loop that he was put inside with one purpose: to break down Loki, Harry felt something strange in the magic that had leached onto Loki’s soul, eating him up. Harry had to shake back the fear from knowing how fricking close he had been to losing Loki and how close he should have been to being entirely erased. He hadn’t even known who he was, for merlin’s sake!

Harry stared down at the pale male in his lap, almost too afraid to blink - thinking that as soon as he closed his eyes, he would open them again and wake up only to realize that this was yet another crazy memory-dream, not the present nor reality at all. It was so surreal. This was the man he had been seeing in Harald’s memories; that was the other part of his soul, the reason for his previous changes.

He let his finger slowly stroke Loki’s hair, ignoring how dirty and greasy it was. Contrary to what people believed about the trickster god, Loki had never been evil. Always holding a grudge, yes, and he had an unhealthy joy in luring people in with sweet words only to be teaching them that even the kindest words could cut like a knife. He used to have too much fun with mischief and chaos for his own good.

“Loki?” Harry asked softly as he tried to wake the trickster up. Yet, he got no reaction. He frowned and tried to shake him away, yet the only thing he was doing was making Loki’s head flop side to side.

Harry could see how his pale skin stood out against his midnight-black hair, and the dark circles under his eyes gave him a hollow, sunken look. Like he had been starved for decades.

No, Harry gritted his teeth; this was not -his- fault; it was all Harald’s doing. How could he not have foreseen this happening? It wasn't called a soulmate for nothing. And Loki…. Loki had been without his other half for an eternity. Of course, his mind and soul would be broken after all this time.

Harry ignored the stabbing feeling all over his skin as he hugged the broken form of Loki closer to him; he would bring Loki back if that were the last thing he would ever do.

Harry swore lowly as another explosion from the outside shook the penthouse windows, and a few broken glass pieces fell with a crashing sound. Something was wrong; Loki should be waking up without any problem now… unless there were something he was missing.

Suddenly, Loki started to scream in his lap, his body convulsing and thrashing like he was being electrocuted. For a second, Loki’s eyes were wide open. Pale blue and almost glowing before they closed again, and he slumped down into Harry’s arms like a limp doll.

“By the Norns!! What is it now -Loki?” Harry tried to shake him awake, but the pale male did not wake up again. Loki’s forehead was crumpled in pain, and his breaths came in puffs instead of their regular tempo.

Harry could feel how his magic tingled; something unknown was pushed against Loki’s core—gripping at it, squeezing his magic, and infecting it with something that did not belong there. This, had been the same thing that had tried to break him down.

Harry pressed his hand down on Loki’s chest, feeling his labored breaths harshly move his hand up and down. There was something very wrong; Harry released his magic into Loki’s chest, ignoring the skip of his heart and letting his power seep into his core as he once remembered Loki had done to Harald. Helping him stabilize his magic, but as Harry did that, he could have sworn that there was a tinge of something otherworldly at the edge of Loki’s magic.

Harry bent down as much as he could; the long black hair acted as a curtain around him as he let his forehead rest against Loki’s and breathed in slowly. If there was one thing he hated, it was to dive into someone’s mind without permission. Harry still had nightmares from the false vision of his godfather that Voldemort had implanted in his mind. They were still there, even though he knew they were fake, lingering inside his mind as clear as the day he got them. Yet, this time, his gut told him he needed to dig deeper as something still had a hold of Loki.

“It's just one problem after the other,” Harry grumbled low. “Why can’t things ever be easy?” He shook his head and looked down at Loki’s pained face.

“I will not let go of you. Do you hear me, Loki? Don’t make me a liar again,” Harry whispered, not getting any answer, not that he had expected any, as blank eyes stared up at the ceiling.

“I didn’t want to do this, so I’m sorry.” Harry hesitated only for a second before he whispered the word that he honestly hated, “legilimens.”

The floodgate of Loki’s mind was immediately cracked open - and without any blocks in his way - something Harry had never known was possible. There was always something that would shield someone's mind. However, Loki didn’t have anything; Harry was allowed straight in.

At first, Harry was immediately met by darkness, no memories, no voices, nothing that could direct him to go in the right direction in Loki’s mind. Harry felt around; there should be something, because the brain was never silent. As soon as that thought left him, a golden string suddenly became visible in front of him.

The string was a pure golden color, but when he looked closer, he saw a shift to green as it wrapped around in a complex braid. Harry’s hand hovered right over the string, too afraid to even touch it because it felt like the string would snap from the smallest misplaced weight. Still, he didn’t want to lose it, as he thought this was important.

Slowly, he started to follow the string deeper inside Loki’s mind, seeing how the line grew thicker and more complex the further he walked. Harry began to feel more of Loki all around him; the sensation of being bound swept over him, and Loki struggled to wake up, even struggling to take control of his own body.

‘Loki?’ Harry asked over the now open magical bond, the golden string suddenly brightening up like a pulse for a second before diming down again. No answer came for him.

But, Harry could feel his mate’s soul stir underneath his magic whilst it welcomed him deeper into the darkness, like a long-lost friend – one who hadn't betrayed him when he needed him the most and left him lost in a colorless world.

The heavy feeling in Harry’s chest grew, and he tried to swallow around the lump in his throat. If he had thought the feeling from before had been wrong in the memory loop, it was nothing compared to this. He felt dirty.

‘I know, I…. the… There are no words Loki…’ he tried to say as he instantly knew that Harald was the cause of Loki’s pain. A part of Loki’s soul had died with him, and he had been thrown into chaos. He was the catalyst that pushed Loki to madness. Harry blinked, trying to ignore that voice and the stabbing pain in his mind.

‘For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.’

There were no changes in the darkness as Harry dove deeper, following the golden threat, trying to feel for Loki before he slipped away from him again. What would he do if Loki never woke up? Harry stopped in his path; what if Loki was forever lost because of hi… -Harald’s sacrifices. Did he even have the right to drag Loki back? Harry drew in a hard breath. What if he was already lost? He looked down at the now thin golden thread before him.

‘Loki.’ Harry began, sighing as the green in the thread pulsed softly before him. ‘I can’t change the past or what had happened; I don’t have that kind of power. What I know is that I will always choose you, in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality we stumble upon, I will find you, and I will choose you again and again. I will never stop fighting for you.’

The was a moment of silence before an overwhelming warmth hit Harry right in the chest and the green inside the golden string became thicker and more visible. Harry felt how Loki was so much closer than he had been before.

Harry then looked to his right as a speck of blue invaded his vision, the feeling of need and want emitting from that spot. He reached out, took hold of the blue light without a second thought, and immediately regretted it as a vile feeling welled inside him. Loki’s mind suddenly flared up in a turquoise color, driving away the darkness that had been all around Harry.

Harry bit down on his tongue so not to do anything he might regret - like escape from Loki's mind - as the awful feeling filled him up and turned his stomach.

“Well, that was entertaining enough.” A dark, rumbling voice vibrated through the space, making blue ripples all around him, and Harry went dead still.

“This is a charming surprise, I must say; when I felt the spell shatter, I didn’t expect to find you there, little prince.”

A chill went through Harry’s body. He knew that voice; he knew it far too well and it sent cold shivers down his spine at the forced memories he had seen from when Harald had died.

It was -him-.

He knew that voice; even if he had never personally met the speaker, he had heard it in Harald’s memories. He knew that his aunt had done a lot of mental damage to Loki, but to have the mad titan’s physical involvement in Loki's mind control? This situation suddenly went entirely out of bounds on the dangerous scale, because, as far as Harry understood, they were in direct contact with the mad titan’s mind, even if it were through the mind stone.

“I can’t say the feeling is mutual,” Harry answered calmly, not letting a single bit of his inner turmoil leak out. “You should have stayed away from what’s mine.”

The titan chuckled, “and perhaps you should have stayed dead, something I soon will correct.”

Harry could not help but snort, “you are not the first one to say that; I have heard that I’m tough to kill,” even more now since he had taken upon the title of master of death.

“Indeed, you are, and yet, can you say the same of your mate?” The titan hummed pleasantly through the connection, “he is now merely a broken vessel, and the only outcome is to put him out of his misery.” The soft voice spoke as the vibrant blue color glowed all around Harry, making the golden chain shake and rattle underneath the pressure. “A misery you put him through, mind you, all because you wanted to play the hero.”

Harry clenched his teeth, refusing to take the bait and lash out. He tried to find out where exactly the connection point was; there had to be something here. Harry could feel the sick feeling of Thanos coming in waves as he spoke and the menacing blue lit up their surroundings.

“Your aunt was good at backup plans, and Loki would have died the second he was defeated; his mind should have shattered. Yet, to my surprise, he was still connected to the stone, but it is too bad that he is useless to me now.”

Harry’s eyes widened as he found it. This was no longer a matter of the physical plane; the battle had been set up in their minds, more so Loki’s mind, as both Thanos and Harry were only outsiders in his space.

That meant that Thanos was directly connected to Loki at this moment, and Harry could feel the heavy presence of the Titan rattling his soul, suppressing the small soul shard that was still lingering. But at every word spoken, the chain vibrated before Harry.

What would happen if he touched it? Would he mess something up? He had never read anything about threads inside someone’s mind. It was usually all about memories and desires. This, this was neither, and if he were not able to still feel Loki, he would think that the god was brain dead. Harry stared at the thread, his hand hovering over it, not daring to grab it.

‘Do it’

Harry held back a gasp as he heard Loki’s voice and looked around, it had only been a faint whisper, but it was undoubtedly him. He breathed out; if Loki said it was alright, he was not going to question it - not right now. So, he took hold of the golden chain that stilled underneath his hand. Suddenly, Harry could feel how his magic started to pour into the golden chain like it was a dry sponge. As his magic was drained, he could feel Loki’s presence becoming clearer inside his mind.

“Well, would you look at that.” The titan’s voice sounded impressed for a second that the chain was still intact and that Loki started to stir around them. Lighting up his mind space as he did. Thanos chuckled as the blue around Harry vibrated. The cold, sick feeling ebbed out of the connection, and Harry had to hold back his disgust as he felt its familiarity pulse inside his magic.

“Don’t you dare!” Harry bit back, angry, tugging on the magic that lit up, protecting Loki from the blue that wanted to claim the thread.

‘Light?’ Loki suddenly was beside Harry and blinked in bewilderment as his body flickered through different clothes and armor as memories started to leak out. Harry could not help to grin at the dark-haired god.

Harry felt he gained new resolve as his mate came to life beside him. ‘Nice of you to come around, Loki.’

Loki blinked; the images flashed across his mind before he abruptly shut off his thought as he still was semi-connected to Thanos, but not before Harry had caught on to the gist of his thinking. It had been a flash, an annoying feeling of being forced to stay connected to the titan, yet the connection to Thanos made Harry pause.

But, it… could… not be that easy. Or could it? Harry stared at Loki like he could not make up his mind. But what had crossed Loki’s mind made sense to the wizard. The now green-eyed god stared emptily at him—not letting his mind betray him for even a second.

Harry knew that mind-magic was considerably risky: you had to have a strong will and a focused mind as you could easily get lost in a mind space or damage the other person if you overwhelmed them.

Destroying the other’s mind was exactly what Thanos and his aunt had tried to do as they put Loki in a memory loop to shatter his soul. Harry’s gaze again dawned on the blue connection; he was going to do it.

Loki had started to wake up more and more as Harry strengthened him, and then he felt what his mate was thinking. ‘Don’t’

Harry looked up at him and raised an eyebrow as Loki’s eyes now stared back at him intensely.

‘Why not? It could work,’ Harry said.

‘Are you crazy? There is no way it would work,’ Loki protested.

‘Yet you knew exactly what I was thinking moments after waking up.’

Loki glared at him. ‘Not like you gave me any choice, my little light, and I’d take that back; you are definitely crazy, no question there,’ he huffed out.

‘Well, I have to be crazy to be your soulmate, right?’ Harry grinned, finding a little amusement in this whole situation as Loki’s eyes softened at the words.

‘That is unfortunately correct,’ Loki sighed.

They both could now feel how confused the Titan was over their exclusive conversation. But there was also something else that both Harry and Loki had now noticed: the Titan was not entirely focused on them. It was like there was something else drawing his attention outside their minds.

‘Let’s try it; it can work,’ Harry said, holding a hand to Loki's still flickering image, ‘if we do it together.’

Loki hesitated as he stared at the man before him, not believing that this was real, that his beloved Harald was there with him - or perhaps he was, and Loki had finally died too. Either way, it was the Mind stone that they were up against, and the Mind stone allowed the user some room to manipulate the mind as long it stayed connected to it.

So, for Thanos to have control over him, he had to stay connected to the mind stone. If Harald was right, they could force this connection to burn out Thanos instead. It was an insane and crazy idea, it had little to no chance of working, and they would risk burning themselves out of existence if they failed.

Loki was silent as he took it all in and shrugged; what did they have to lose? He had beaten the worst odds before, so why not now. His light was right there, grounding him, making him feel like he could do anything. Without a word, he let go of everything and let his whole soul flood inside Harry, who stared down at his chest where the golden-green thread had latched inside his core.

‘Huh, that’s new.’

‘Well, what did you think would happen?’ Loki stared, unimpressed at him, and Harry shrugged

‘Something flashier?’

Loki snorted, unamused.

“What are you two planning?” Thanos suddenly asked; he couldn’t keep up with what the two energies did with the mind stone. However, whatever they were planning would fail, and Thanos had a more pressing matter to deal with as a little irritating insect had had the nerve to send an external attack at his scout fleet right now. He did not have the time to play with broken gods.

‘Let’s do it,’ Loki said as his mind flared up as Thanos’ blue thread started to separate from theirs.

With a reflex earned from years of playing seeker, Harry breathed out and snatched the blue thread out of the air before it was entirely detached from Loki’s mind. Harry nearly reeled back in disgust at what he felt deep down in the glowing blue, a color that was now tainting everything he held dear. It was an arduous process, dangerous when done by an amateur, but Harry had studied mind magic and he knew how to protect himself.

They could feel the Titan’s surprise by their action and how their connection suddenly changed direction from the mind stone to Thanos himself.

Harry gasped in horror when his senses suddenly were overwhelmed by Thanos; he could feel the soul parts that belong to Harald shake. He had never experienced this type of agony before, and his whole mind was screaming in alarm. He could feel every atom of his body almost vibrating as the menacing magic sent shivers down his back, and suddenly something happened.

Loki’s forest-green eyes were right in front of him. Harry blinked slowly, something that took a lot of energy as he felt cold hands holding his face in place. The stormy chaos inside his mind calmed until nothing was left but an eerie calm in his soul.

‘Focus, don’t lose yourself,’ Loki warned as he let go of Harry’s face.

Magic tingled all around them as the connection was still strong, the mind stone humming as it tried to do whatever its master wanted, whoever that was.

‘Thanks,’ Harry breathed out before he commanded his body to continue, forget the small part that was Harald’s fear; they had to do this. It was probably their only chance.

Their magic flooded the blue thread and was sent speeding down the connection in lightning speed that surfaced both reality and realms. They surged forward in one last combined attack as they found the orb that was Thanos’ core and began purging over a thousand years’ worth of memories and energy from them and the sceptre. By the time they felt Thanos stir and try to fight back, it was already too late.

“NO-O!” Thanos screamed as he understood too late what happened as the magic collided with his center. For a second, nothing happened as the rainbow-colored sphere swallowed the golden green light like a sponge.

Then the sphere started to crack, and warm, gold light broke through the cracks, expanding it and making the orb vibrate. Thanos gasped as he felt the attack to his core; he stared at the screen in front of him and saw his wormhole and the earth behind it. Inside the giant hole, he could see a black dot descend as the reality stone stopped working. How could it have ended like this? How could he lose to a cheap trick like this?

Yet, he felt how these minor gods' magic had penetrated the last of his defenses, and in only a second, Thanos’ mind exploded in on itself. He started to fall into oblivion as the last thing he could see was the port wormhole closing right before his eyes, and a chain reaction of the explosion went through the ship.

The green and golden thread snapped as the last of their energy was purged inside, and they took a step back before it all would explode. It was rendering its owner without a mind of its own as both Loki and Harry slowly faded from the connection and into the real world once again.

Honestly, Harry felt so done with everything as he opened his eyes; there was this strange taste in the back of his throat as he squeezed his eyes shut as the light was too bright. He could feel Loki stir in his lap, but he did not dare to do anything as he felt his mind spin around without moving a muscle. He had to force his lungs to remember to breathe as the sensation overwhelmed him.

The power of the mind stone still hummed in the back of his mind as the connection slowly started to fade from the…Loki’s magic as Thanos’ grip on him slowly began to disappear.

At first, it was like nothing had happened, then Harry started to feel something flowing through the bond that connected his soul to Loki. He felt a little dizzy as the magic swelled underneath his skin but shook it off. He could not believe that they had done it. It had been a wild, crazy idea that could have easily cost them their lives.

Harry took a few calming breaths before slowly peeling his eyes open, blinking to adjust them to the bright light outside and then looking down at the man in his lap. Silent tears were streaming down Loki’s pale cheeks as he stared up at Harry with unseeing and empty eyes, and as Harry took in the god’s appearance, he saw how the pulse in Loki’s throat was beating wildly yet no breath left his body.

“Come on, Loki, breathe.” Harry said softly as he started to move his stiff fingers and took a deep breath himself to make Loki follow.

Loki drew in a deep breath with such intensity that Harry thought, for a second, that he was having a seizure. He drew in another sharp breath, and then soft gasps left his throat as he stared at Harry, still with a cloudy expression. Loki’s eyes slowly shifted to their usual green color, and tears leaked from them. Confusion blended in together with bewilderment as the seconds ticked by.

“It is you,” Loki choked on his voice as he found himself unable to believe what he was seeing.

Happiness.

Regret.

Sorrow.

Harry felt it all and wrapped his arms around Loki as he shook like a leaf in the wind. Closing his eyes again, Harry weakly whispered, “breathe Loki, we did it, so there’s no way that you can give up now. He’s gone; you felt it as well as I did, did you not?”

A euphoric flood of emotion washed over him as he said those words. it was like Loki had overwhelmed his senses and had difficulty controlling any emotions that were now leaking through the bond. But there was still this feeling of being whole again like his broken soul finally had been mended.

Loki’s entire body was trembling, his magic fluctuated wildly and lashed out violently as his mind was bombarded with all the emotions and memories he had been forced to forget. With every feeling of loss, hurt, and despair, he ever had felt after losing Harald. His arms gripped Harry’s arms desperately, nails digging into the soft skin as he suppressed a scream that wanted to tear its way out of his throat.

Everything outside became deathly quiet, and no explosions could be heard, no shots or screams of war sounded out; there was only an eerie silence.

Harry could feel Loki's magic caressing his own before a hand lightly squeezed his own, and he looked down at Loki, who now had stilled in his arms. Tired, red-rimmed eyes blinked at him with a hint of gold in the iris.

“I know it’s you,” Loki muttered as he frowned slightly, “but it can’t be, it's impossible; you died; I felt it.”

Harry opened his mouth, about to say that he had died - or Harald had - but he suddenly hesitated. There were no words to explain how sorry he was for putting him through everything that …Harald had caused… But he was no longer Harald, and he didn’t know if Loki would accept that?

There were so many questions and no answers, and perhaps the biggest one was what had happened after his disappearance – after the Mad titan had been put in Harald’s cage. But was Harry Harald, or was he merely an imposter of his loved one? Harry didn’t feel like the man in his memories. He felt like the lost little boy that learned that magic was real from a half-giant, a boy who, for his whole life, had been fighting a war and knew nothing else but that.

Nope, no way he was going to follow that train of thought right now, not when his brain felt like it was about to blow up from the intense headache slowly building up between his eyes.

“Yes,” Harry answered honestly. “Harald died.”

The heavy feelings that weighed down his chest at those words were genuine enough, and he tried to ignore the numb feeling that crept over his body. He could feel the emotional storm inside his chest and it made his head whirl.

Loki stared up at him without saying anything, only swiping through his memories and trying to decide what was a dream and what was reality.

“You are…. not Harald. Yet you are him.”

Harry dry swallowed; why was he afraid to answer him with the truth? “Yes- no… well- It’s complicated.”

No more words left Loki’s chapped lips as he stiffened, clenching his teeth, and Harry felt how a block was put up between them, and tried to hold back a wince.

Loki pushed himself up with a groan and swatted Harry’s hand away from him, “don’t,” he growled, before calming down slightly with a deep, controlled breath. “Please, don’t touch me right now; I need to… think.” Loki’s mind was silent for the first time in a long while, and he could finally think, but all his memories were scattered and out of order.

He could remember glimpses of what had happened whilst he had been under the mind stone’s control. It had been him, yet not. Loki stared at the man in front of him. His magic screamed at him that this was his mate, his little love that so cruelly had been ripped away from him - from his soul.

He could not detect any lies in his words. So, he was not lying. Loki had no idea what was worse, that Harald’s reincarnation was standing right there in front of him or that he had hurt him. His eyes glanced at the dried blood on Harry’s arm before looking away.

“How is this even possible?”

Harry looked over at him, letting him have his space but still staying close enough to help if it was needed.

“Honestly, I have no idea, you have to ask the Norns about that one, but a few months ago, I came into my…. inheritance, and with it, a shit load of memories hit me, and I started to remember everything...”

“-Yeah, no….” Loki snorted, but soon regretted it as pain thronged all over, and held up a hand to stop Harry. “I don’t think I’m ready for that headache right now.”

“Loki…”

“-No, please…Haral—” he hesitated, not wanting to say the name as it hurt too much.

“Harry.”

“-Harry,” Loki averted his eyes, “let me collect my thoughts, I…I know what my magic and soul are telling me, and I know who you are,” he took a deep breath, “just let me collect myself.”

Harry nodded and took his hand back. A tickling feeling alerted him to incoming souls as he turned to the still-working elevator. He felt his whole body stiffen as they came closer, glancing at Loki.

“We have company.”

A soft ding was heard before the doors opened, and out walked the strangest group of muggles Harry had ever seen – which said something, considering how many odd things he had seen. Harry took a step forward so that he was in front of Loki, standing defensively.

Harry once again felt like this was the work of his ‘Potter luck’ (maybe he should trademark it). As always with him, following Murphy's Law, if something could go wrong, it would.

The muggles' weapons were aimed at them as the elevator doors closed behind the small crowd that Harry had seen fighting the aliens outside. He sighed. This wasn’t the best outcome, but it could have been worse. They could have shot first, and waited until later to ask questions.

Thank the Norns for small mercies.

Chapter Text

Harry took a slow breath as he held his arms out slightly from his body, ready to blast the muggles away if necessary. For a moment, no one moved or said anything.

Suddenly, the red and gold robot tilted his head, seeming curious. “A kid?” The robot asked, looking at Harry and then at the other muggles. “I don’t remember a kid being involved in this. Do you guys? Have you always been here? And how did you get up here? This is private property, you know.” The robot posed question after question, never waiting for an answer, bewildered by the fact that there was a stranger in his tower.

Thor strode up in front of the group with a huge goofy grin. “Harald! I was wondering where you went. I told you to follow me! I was afraid that we had lost you again…”

Harry sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as he felt an ache pound behind his eyes. Not exactly sure of what to tell the big oaf, Harry said: “then why did you speed off like that? No one can follow your speed, Thor.”

Thor grinned as the robot made some spluttering sound in the background that sounded almost like, ‘excuse me, I was talking?’ but no one reacted to him as Thor spoke up, facing Harry and Loki.

“Did you see our glorious battle?” He laughed as he slammed a massive hand down on Harry’s shoulder, almost making his legs give out.

“The halls of Asgard will sing of this victory for eons, and the people will celebrate. Tonight, we will celebrate with the mightiest heroes of Midgard! And you helped Loki! That is indeed something to celebrate.”

Harry frowns as he takes a calming breath; there is no point in hitting Thor right now. Harry felt his fingers twitching when he mentioned how he completely dumped Harry and then boasted about the goddamn war that probably had destroyed half of Manhattan. However, at this moment, Harry did not dare to move from his potion directly in front of Loki as he would be in the line of fire for the others who still hadn’t lowered their weapons. He wondered how fast he could take them down and if doing so would even be possible.

‘Oh, don’t hold back for me,’ Loki drawled over the bond, startling Harry briefly but not so much to make the other notice ‘he still hasn’t learned about his inside voice, and I’m afraid he never will; at least he is house-trained.’

Harry snorted lowly but didn’t answer him, instead looking over at the blond oaf. “Perhaps we should solve this situation before deciding to drink?”

Thor looked back at his brother, then at the others, and finally at Harry.

“What situation?” He echoed, ignorant of the eyes staring hopelessly at him. “What could be more important than celebrating this grand victory, brother?”

“…”

Harry was lost for words; he opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Loki chuckled darkly behind him, and Thor’s companions stared at the god like he had lost his marbles.

"What?" Thor exclaimed, his voice booming with astonishment. "You've already found Loki and, judging by the outcome, managed to rescue him against all odds. We've confronted the outside threat and emerged victorious, ensuring we'll live to witness another dawn. This sounds like nothing short of a triumphant quest to me!"

“I didn’t need to be rescued like some kind of helpless damsel in distress,” Loki sneered at his brother.

"And these," Thor declared, disregarding his brother's protests with the booming authority of a god, his arm sweeping grandly towards the assembly of wide-eyed muggles, "are Earth's mightiest heroes, The Avengers." His grin was as broad and fierce as a storm on the horizon. "Avengers, meet Harald—my brother-in-law and shield brother," he announced, his voice ringing with pride and the promise of shared battles.

“Charmed,” Harry said as a greeting and could not help but snicker internally at the gob-smacked faces of the muggles as Thor introduced him.

“…...you’ve got to be kidding me.” It was the bowman that broke the silence that had come after Thor’s greeting.

Loki gave a small grunt as he pushed himself up and out of the crater, making the muggles flinch.

"I'm afraid he genuinely means what he says; sadly, he's just as clueless as he appears." Loki stretched his stiff fingers, causing his brother's companions to tense up and brandish their weapons. Loki rolled his eyes dramatically at them—honestly, such a jittery bunch!

Paying no attention to the bowman, Loki brushed off a few specks of dust from his shoulder. “Now that all that titter and tatter is out of our way, if it's all the same to you, Stark, I would appreciate that drink now, if the offer still stands,” Loki said as he plucked a piece of pavement out of his hair.

Harry’s eyes lingered a few seconds longer on the sceptre in the red-haired woman's hand before looking away, no one noticing the struggle that went through his thin frame. The pure power the sceptre emitted made the hair on Harry’s arms stand up, yet he could not help but think that Loki only wanted to move away from the stone as fast as he could.

“Seriously?” Harry asked as he risked a glance over his shoulder.What was it with Asgardians and their drinking habit?

“What?” Loki drawled and looked over at him but not directly at him.

“Blimey... how are you thinking of drinking right now? What is wrong with you Asgardians and drinking for everything?”

“No time like the present,” Loki said, “and that stunt you pulled has given me one hell of a headache, so yes, I would like that drink that I was offered.”

"Well, the ridiculous stunt actually worked," Harry snapped back. A strong glass of fire whisky seemed like exactly what he needed right now, but unfortunately, that wasn't his top priority. He glanced at the muggles standing before them; some appeared bewildered, while others wore expressions of anger or indifference that only added to his frustration.

“Wait a minute now,” The American flag protested, “just what is going on here? The criminal is right before us, and we’re all going to let him be? Just like that?”

Harry's body tensed as he surveyed the muggles before him, ready to defend himself and Loki if needed. He could feel the tension in the air and knew that things could escalate quickly if he didn't diffuse the situation.

“Oh hell no,” The bowman said, raising his bow and pointing it at Harry.

"Listen," Harry said calmly, holding his hands up in a gesture of peace. "I’m not here to cause any trouble”

The bowman narrowed his eyes at Harry, not lowering his weapon. "And what about him?" he sneered, pointing his bow at Loki who was now leaning against the bar, looking bored.

Loki scoffed, rolling his eyes. "If I didn't have a headache I could kill you, right now it's too much work,"

A suddenly harking sound was heard from the group as they stood a few steps away, still wary about the whole situation.

“Yeah…All right, sorry to interrupt this small dispute. It is an excellent question you have, and we will come back to it soon,” The robot, ‘Stark’, said as the front of his suit opened, and out walked a man, shedding the metal like old skin.

"However, I believe a presentation is in order before we continue this," the man declared with a flourish. "Any objections?" He scanned the room briefly but didn’t pause long enough for a response. "No? Good! You probably already know who I am, so let’s skip that—"

Harry furrowed his brow, a puzzled look crossing his face. "I can't precisely say that I do."

"What...what? Seriously?" The man's eyes widened in disbelief, his mouth falling open as if Harry had suddenly sprouted a second head. "You... don’t know who I am? Huh, that’s a first. What rock did you crawl out from?" He shook his head, a mixture of incredulity and amusement flickering across his features.

Harry couldn’t help but snort, “A huge one; you would not believe me if I told you.” The wizarding world had missed many things, that was for sure, like flying robot-muggles.

“Oh? Was that a challenge, I heard? It was, wasn't it?” The man grinned. “Well, challenge accepted.”

Harry felt a shiver travel down his spine. Did he make a huge mistake? He looked over at the man as he poured some whisky into a glass, sweeping it down in one go before doing it again.

"I wouldn't hold your breath, Stark," Bowman hissed, narrowing his eyes at Loki with deep suspicion. "Filth like them never change, they're never worth any trust or time."

“And you are?” Harry asked defensively.

“You…”

“Clint,” The walking flag said in a tight voice, “stand down.”

“You got to be kidding me,” the newly named Clint growled “why aren’t you doing anything? He’s right there; why are we even hesitating?”

The walking flag looked over to Harry and Loki, measuring the situation, and then back to his companion, “We will see that justice is served, but only after we get all the necessary information.” He turned to Harry again.

“My name is Steve Rogers; this is Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, and the Hulk, also known as Bruce Banner.” Steve pointed at each of the newly named people as he introduced them, “and you already know Thor.”

Harry nodded as Tony grinned. “Good, now when this little introduction is over, I will ask what everyone in this room is too chicken to ask: we know reindeer games over there, but who are you, kid?”

Harry felt his eye twitch; he hated being called a kid. He was about to correct the man when the green giant decided he wanted to be part of the conversation.

“He’s Fairy!” Hulk ground out before he could say anything.

Tony stared at Hulk, then a slow grin formed on his lips. “Fairy? Oh! That’s golden,” he cracked.

“Don’t ask,” Harry said to Loki, who had raised an eyebrow at the nickname. “My name is Harry Potter, not Fairy.”

"Son, that is not the name Thor introduced you by," Steve remarked, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized Harry with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. The atmosphere was tense, and Steve's voice carried a hint of authority, suggesting that he expected a truthful explanation.

“It’s a long story, and it's not something you'll be hearing about anytime soon," Harry remarked with a shrug.

Steve opened his mouth to voice his protest but Clint interrupted them.

"Now that this delightful introduction is behind us, can we proceed with capturing the criminal and his accomplice? We've clearly heard he's hiding plenty, god know whats more he have up his sleves" Clint said sharply, still holding his bow at the ready.

"Already on it, no need to stress," Tony replied casually as he approached with two glasses in hand. Harry's muscles tensed as Tony approached, but he continued forward, handing one glass to Loki while keeping the other for himself. "Sorry, no adult drinks for kids; I might have some juice in the fridge if you're interested."

“What are you doing, Stark?” Clint bit out.

“Giving him his drink, what does it look like? Did you want one?” Tony asked with a raised eyebrow. “If so, the bar is over there; make one yourself. God knows that you look like you need one… or two.”

‘I like him.’ Loki chimed in over the bond as he eyed the glass in front of him.

Harry shook his head, but even he had to admit that the man was something else, ‘of course you do.’

‘Can we keep him?’

Harry chose not to answer the question, focusing instead on watching Clint, who was still in a heated discussion with Tony. Despite this, he appreciated that Loki had decided to keep the connection open for him. Merlin, it was even a lot for him to take in.

"This is absolutely insane!" Clint shouted, his voice booming with fury. "He's the one who manipulated me, turned me into his puppet, and unleashed a bloody rampage! Need I remind you that he murdered Coulson in cold blood? He's the one who's been orchestrating all of this chaos!"

"Hold on a second, Mr. Barton," Harry interjected. “You are missing most of the information.” Harry felt his magic starting to crawl underneath his skin at the reminder of whose fault this actually was.

"Loki is as much a victim in this situation as you are."

Clint snarled, “I wouldn’t call him that, he has killed over 80 people theas last days and-”

“-and how many have you killed?” Harry asked defensively. “You were in the same position as him, am I correct? You reek of the same magic as Loki, and if I’m not wrong, you’re an assassin too.”

“No,” Clint bit back, teeth showing and the crazy desperate glint in his eyes magnifying. “It wasn't my doing! He is the one who controlled me.”

Harry stared at him. “And someone was controlling Loki; what does that tell you about the enemy?”

Before Clint could answer, Steve held up a hand to stop him, “What do you mean?”

Harry glanced at the captain and said, "Think about it, someone out there had the ability to control a god. What does that say about the situation? If even Loki couldn't stand a fair chance against him, what could any of you possibly have done?"

"We could have followed the higher commanders' decision if we had the correct information," Clint stated defensively.

Harry blinked, intending to respond, but words escaped him as he stared at the soldier. The decision of the higher-ups? that would have taken houers if not days.

“By the Norns, you’re giving me a headache,” Loki sighed as he drowned the last of the golden liquid and put the glass down, wishing it had been something more substantial; the human drink was so weak. “There are far more worlds outside your little planet than you can imagine.”

“..Is he for real?” Clint huffed out. “Other worlds?”

“Yes, I think Reindeer games here is on to something. When I flew that nuke through the portal, I got a glimpse of what was on the other side, and trust me, it was anything but pleasant," Tony concurred, twirling the glass in his hand.

"Nuke?" Harry exclaimed, shocked by the news. Why would they launch a nuclear weapon at their city, even during an alien invasion? But now when he thought back to the time when Loki and he had jointly attacked Thanos’ mind. He had noticed a significant break in Thanos' focus then; could that have been the cause?

“Yeah, you know, a big bomb that goes ‘boom’,” Tony made a gesture with his hands like an explosion.

"So, let me get this straight—you’re saying the government's brilliant plan was to send a nuclear bomb to Manhattan and they didn't even bother evacuating the citizens?" Harry paused, his eyes shifting to the others, finally resting on Clint, who seemed to shrink under the gaze. "And now you’re pointing fingers at Loki, trying to detain him for actions he took while under mind control? you can't be serious!" Harry's voice wavered, caught between disbelief and the unsettling possibility that this was all true.

"They likely felt they had no other option," Steve argued, standing up for his leader.

Harry glared at him, "And that makes dropping a nuclear bomb okay?"

"The aliens—"

"—were under Thanos' command, and it was just a scouting group," Harry cut in, exasperated.

“Harald….”

“No!” Harry barked at Thor, his voice a whip crack of fury. “Don’t you dare start with me, Thor Odinsson!” His emerald-green eyes darkened to a venomous shade, seething with unstable magic that crackled dangerously around him.

“They've got the audacity to accuse Loki of murder, while he was nothing but a puppet under mind control, yet their so-called government was poised to massacre an entire city! How can you turn a blind eye to that?”

"Take it easy, Harald; they simply don't know any better. They're still just a young race," Thor said, attempting to defuse the situation.

Harry felt an intense itch on his back, signaling his wings were eager to emerge in his fury. Calm himself... oh no, he had no desire to calm down; he wanted to erupt right there and then. His magic was on the brink of bursting out in rage. He would have, if not for the sound of the elevator pinging, followed by its doors sliding open.

“Mr.Potter! Stand down.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” Harry growled when yet another person tried to tell him to calm down. He glared at the new threat because that was what his mind registered the man as.

Initially, it seemed as though he was gazing at the Minister for Magic, yet he sensed no magical aura from the bald, Black man confidently making his way toward them, as if he commanded the entire room. With his black trench coat and an eye patch over his left eye, he resembled a contemporary version of a pirate captain.

“And who the bloody hell are you?” Harry snapped angrily, not standing down at all.

The black man looked over at the Avengers and then back at the wizard with a raised brow, unimpressed with this situation. Why did he have to have the Wizarding World's golden boy mixed up in this mess?

“I’m Director Fury. You probably know of my brother Kingsley?” Fury said.

Harry looked at the man, magic crawling over his skin but ready to do its master’s command. The man did look like the minister. “Yes….. I know of him. Are you the one in charge of these muggles?” Harry asked. “If so, then you already know that we’re wasting time standing here and arguing.”

“That is debatable,” Fury said as he clapped his hand behind his back. “Everything in due time, Mr. Potter. The Higher ups want a scapegoat. They want to bring justice for what happened and Loki made himself the perfect target.”

Harry snorted, his disbelief evident in the sharpness of his voice. "They want someone to take the fall and cover up the fact that they authorized a nuclear bomb to hit Manhattan, a whole city with innocent people?" His words hung heavily in the air. The silence that followed was thick and suffocating, as each person exchanged uneasy glances, the weight of the unspoken truth pressing down on them all.

"No," Harry insisted, "I won't let you do that; it would just waste our time." He scrutinized the man standing before him, trying to assess his choices despite his mind feeling foggy. Thanos was no longer a factor, but there was always someone ready to continue where he had stopped.

This whole situation unsettled him deeply, leaving him torn between disbelief and suspicion. So many unknowns hovered in the air, casting shadows over the truth. His eyes were drawn to the flickering sceptre in Natasha's grasp, amplifying the chaos of emotions swirling around the room.

“You might as well put that one down,” Harry said, breaking the silence, and nodded to the sceptre in Ms. Romanoff’s hand. “The sceptre doesn't care for whom it takes hold of. Only that is a willing mind”

"Are you saying the sceptre is alive?" Natasha asked, unable to believe it.

Harry squinted at her, tilting his head slightly. "No, it's not more alive than this building; it's still just a stone with some... awareness?"

Tony leaned forward, his curiosity piqued, and his eyes narrowed with interest as he examined the intricate details of the sceptre. The polished surface gleamed under the overhead lights, and mysterious symbols seemed to dance along the shaft.

“What kind of awareness are we talking about?” he asked, his voice carrying a note of challenge. “Because let me tell you, my building is wired with cutting-edge tech and can perform a multitude of impressive functions,” Tony added with a confident smirk.

"No, not exactly awareness, more like an energy and..." Harry gestured vaguely, struggling to find the right term to describe the sensation of the stone.

"Magic?" Loki suggested.

Tony's expression tightened. "No way. We're not going down that path or calling it that," he insisted. "Magic doesn't exist. It's just science we haven't figured out yet. I'm not about to refer to that glowing stick as 'magic.'"

“But you just said that it doesn't care? That implies that it is able to feel,” Natasha asked, ignoring Tony's rambling.

“Yes and no, apart from the sceptre, that holds the mind stone, there are five other stones,” Harry explained as he let his arms relax at his sides. “They are said to be scattered throughout the realms, separated from each other because if they ever were brought together, it would invite disaster, and it would bring the wielder unlimited power. That is what Thanos was after them in the first place.”

“The Infinity Stones?” Thor said, bewildered.

“Congratulations, brother,” Loki drawled, “You have a surprisingly good grasp of the English language; good for you. Now shut up.” Thor turned around, annoyed at him, and Loki glared right back, challenging.

“All right, back up and take it from the beginning. Who’s Thanos, and why does he want the stones?” Director Fury asked.

“Thanos had a lot of names, The Mad Titan, The Destroyer, a conqueror of worlds. He commits genocide as he walks from world to world searching for the stones- “

“-And is not a problem anymore as he is dead,” Loki drawled as he interrupted Thor’s explanation, “not our business anymore, but the stones are.”

“So, why haven’t we heard about this galactic Hitler before today?” Tony asked as he frowned, not liking that they did not have any information on this threat whatsoever, and if he hadn't seen the ship with his own eyes, he would not believe them. Honestly, he was surprised as Loki answered him, not with a sneer or at all.

“You...Midgardians are growing. Maturing. You are starting to reach beyond yourselves, and in that aspect, you touch a greater power - some of which you barely understand,” Loki looked at them as he spoke, “and you are not necessarily able to respond in favour of your actions.”

Loki rolled his eyes with a mocking laugh escaping his pale lips, “I mean no disrespect to either you or humankind, but your planet is not exactly a threat to anyone else in the universe as it is.”

“Brother,” Thor admonished.

“I only speak the truth, and you know it,” Loki drawled as he vanished the glass from his hand.

“Why… yes… but still, you did not have to say it like that,” Thor protested.

"Why not? I don’t need to coddle the Midgardians the way you do," Loki retorted, his voice dripping with disdain. "They wanted to play with the big boys; well, here they are." He flung out his arm dramatically.

“That doesn't mean that they are ready-“

“They were playing with an infinity stone; what did you think would happen?” Loki tells him bluntly and rolls his eyes, “there is still the matter of finding the four other stones.”

“Wait, back up,” Steve interrupted. “Four? There were five a moment ago.”

“We got two right here,” Harry said. “The first is the sceptre there that controls minds,” he nodded to the thing in Natasha’s hand. “The second one is the tesseract, containing the space stone; it opened the portal. So only four are missing.”

“And how do you know all of this?” Natasha asked suspiciously

Harry shrugged, “I read about them.”

“You...read about them?”

“Yes.” He nodded, not bothering to develop his answer, he had suspicions about where the other stones would be, but it was dangerous information to have, and even more, to share.

“Then we have to destroy them,” Tony said firmly.

Harry shook his head, capturing the group's attention once more. "You can't," he said. "The infinity stones are linked to different aspects of the universe. They were created at the dawn of time and are remnants of six singularities that existed before creation. That's why they can't be destroyed. Ordinary people wouldn't even be able to touch them with their bare hands—they're too powerful for a single person to handle." The information swirling in Harry's mind made him feel dizzy, likely because he was recalling memories from Harald's lifetime. He could remember reading the books in his mind, yet he had never physically held them.

Following that moment, an eerie silence fell over the scene only to be broken by the captain. “Is Earth safe?” Steve suddenly spoke up again.

“Probably for the moment,” Thor said as he scratched his chin, not knowing what else to say.

“No, it’s not! This is the signal to all of the realm that earth is ready for a higher form of war,” Loki argued, surprising half of the avengers because it sounded like he cared for what happened to the Earth.

“A higher form?” Fury asked and shook his head. “You forced our hand as soon as you invaded our planet.”

Loki curled his lip with a sneer, but swallowed the biting remark that threatened to escape. If they wished to march toward their own ruin, who was he to intervene? He would even ask for a front row seat to see it all if he weren't going to rot in the deepest dungeon in Asgard when this was all over.

 “Well then…. the current threat is neutralized,” Tony said as he looked around. “So, what now?”

“As long as the stones are still on Midgard, it will continue to attract threats,” Thor said. “I will bring them back to Asgard where they will be safe.”

Harry relaxed slightly but not entirely, “The use of the stone is a sign to the rest of the realms that Midgard is becoming a target, but it is probably too late to change that anyway.”

"Let's bring them back to Asgard," Thor suggested. "They'll be safer there than anywhere else, and it's where they truly belong."

“Now wait a minute,” Fury interrupted, he could not let them take both the tesseract and the sceptre.

“If I were you, I would be listening to the gods here, Director Fury,” Harry said.

“Yes,” Thor said as he stood up, “I can promise you that my father will protect the stones with everything Asgard has to offer.”

Fury's expression remained stoic, a mask of indifference that betrayed no emotion, yet he didn't refute the accusation. "And what exactly should I tell the World Council, hm? That I simply allowed Thor to snatch everything away, including Loki? I assure you, that won't sit well with them."

"They have no alternatives," Harry retorted, frustration boiling over as his head throbbed relentlessly. "They can't possess anything they desire to manipulate or turn into a weapon."

"Well, they do enjoy feeling like they're in control," Fury sighed, deciding not to debate with the god and his kin. Maybe it was for the best. "They despise feeling helpless, especially when it comes to something like an intergalactic war."

Harry looked at him as if he'd gone mad, and he noticed a few other muggles doing the same. "What? Do they want a lesson in what true power is? Because whatever power they think they can attain, it won't suffice. Earth isen’t ready to take part in intergalactic wars; they need to understand that." Harry rubbed his head, feeling overwhelmed by the conversation.

Fury stared at him with a neutral expression, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts. He had gathered a significant amount of information already, yet the notion that someone had possessed the power to control an actual god sent his heart racing. The fact that someone more powerful than Loki—who had brought such chaos—had existed was both terrifying and fascinating. And here was this young man who had managed to handle it somehow. A rare shiver ran down his spine, a mix of awe and apprehension battling within him.

"I might not be an expert on these stones, but I do know that this particular stone emits energy. If you combine the two stones, the energy will be even stronger. I suggest we keep at least one of them on Earth." This would make it easier to handle the higher-ups. Not that he was concerned. If they wanted to challenge actual gods and someone capable of defeating a god and still standing ready to fight, they were welcome to try.

Harry scratched his neck, hesitating, “Perhaps, we should…” Thor began to protest, his voice rising, but a sharp glare from Harry silenced him mid-sentence. The words hung in the air, and Harry's mind raced with uncertainty. “Asgard would be its next target if anyone decided to collect the stones,” he explained, though doubt tinged his voice. “Is that really what you want?” he asked

“We can take it,” Thor argued, but doubt flickered in his eyes. “We have done it before and can do it again.”

But I don’t believe we can take the risk, do you?” Harry asked him, his voice tinged with doubt. “And that way, perhaps the council would back off slightly from Loki?” The last question was directed at the director, who looked deep in thought.

Fury rubbed his chin as he considered their words. He had to admit that keeping one of these powerful stones on Earth was a risky move, but he couldn't deny that it could serve as a valuable bargaining tool. And if they were to face another attack like Loki's, having a stone in their possession could prove useful.

Thor did not look happy at all, and Loki desided to keep his thorugh to himsel.

After a moment of thought, Fury spoke decisively. "Alright," he declared. "We'll keep one of these stones on Earth. However, I have a non-negotiable condition: our S.T.R.I.K.E team will guard both stones until you depart. This is to ensure," Fury gave Loki a pointed look, "that no one gets any more bright ideas." Thor nodded in agreement, while Loki let out a frustrated grunt.

Harry exhaled deeply. He knew Loki wouldn't be alone; Thor would likely stay close by his side. As for himself, he wouldn't venture far either, feeling he wasn't quite ready to do so. Not now that he had finally found him.

“Good, come one, Hill,” Fury turned to the women who had entered after him, and had been silently observing throughout, “let’s greet the council, I'm sure they'd find something to complain about even without this mess.” Fury said, leaving with a dramatic turnaround that could rival a specific professor's walk as he swept out of the room.

“Well, that happened,” Tony deadpanned as he looked around at the bunch that was left, standing there, dirty and sweaty.

“This has all been informative and fun, but we still have a significant problem on our hands, so what do you all say that we take a break, shower, eat some well-deserved food and then sleep on it?” Tony said as he clasped his hands, no longer having the patience to stand still. They were all exhausted from the intense discussion and revelations, and Tony's suggestion of a break seemed like a welcomed idea.

Steve nodded in agreement, “We could use some food and rest before we come up with a plan.” Natasha also chimed in, “I agree. ”

Harry couldn't help but sneak glances at Loki every now and then, unable to shake off the uncomfortable feeling in his chest. He had expected this reunion to be difficult, but he hadn't anticipated just how painful it would be.

He looked over at Loki again and then quickly averted his gaze. The other man seemed lost in thought, staring down at nothing with a distant look in his eyes. Harry couldn't help but wonder what was going on in his mind.

Harry understood Loki. He had been freed from his mental torture, and his memories were back, The presence of Harry, who resembled Harald so closely, only deepened the conflict within Loki. Harry was both a reminder of what he had lost and a constant reminder that Harald was truly gone, making the situation even more unbearable.

Loki glanced at him briefly, and Harry suddenly felt a disconnect in his chest. He frowned, trying to understand what he had done to cause Loki to close off their connection. It had been open all this time, but now Loki was suddenly more closed off.

Harry swallowed, trying to keep his composure. Who was he fooling? This entire mess had gone downhill at an alarming rate. Obviously, Loki wouldn’t be thrilled to see him there. His soulmate was dead, and he’d been brainwashed and tortured for who knows how long.

Harry averted his gaze from his mate. Even now, as Loki distanced himself and blocked the bond once more, Harry tried to push aside the harsh reality. It was a wretched feeling, an emptiness that gnawed at him, like being cast aside. A part of him silently cried out for acknowledgment, yearning for the lost familiarity that left his very soul aching in its absence. Pain tingled in his chest as he closed his eyes for a second. One thing at the time.

While Tony organized the accommodations in his enormous tower, he assigned rooms and floors to everyone. Even Thor got a spot right between the assassins. However, Tony decided to keep both Harry and Loki there temporarily, as he didn't trust them, which was likely a wise decision.

Yet, they were not prisoners, but they still didn’t want Loki to do anything, and by the bracelet that Thor had provided, his magic was not wholly sealed but almost. He could still do a few things but not to his usual extreme, and it was one of the conditions the humans had put up. Although, really it was proof enough that Loki was too tired as he accepted it without any protests.

Harry let out a heavy sigh, his mind spinning with thoughts and emotions. He couldn't believe that he was here, in this unfamiliar place with people he barely knew. And Loki...he couldn't even begin to imagine what he must be going through.

With a deep sense of sadness weighing heavily on his heart, Harry closed his eyes and let the exhaustion overtake him. He was physically tired from the journey and emotionally drained from the events of the past few days.

Harry's mind drifted back to Loki. He couldn't help but feel guilty for causing more pain to his mate. But what else could he have done? He couldn't just ignore the pull towards Loki, the undeniable bond between them.

But as much as he wanted to offer comfort and support to Loki, Harry knew that it wasn't something he could force upon him. They both needed time to process everything that had happened.

The sound of a door opening and closing pulled Harry out of his thoughts. He opened his eyes and saw Thor standing at the doorway, watching him with concern.

"Are you okay?" Thor asked gently.

Harry rubbed his face tiredly. "I don't know," he replied honestly.

"I understand," Thor said softly as he walked over to Harry. "Loki is going through a lot right now, so are you. I still can’t belive that you are alive and here"

"I know," Harry said with a heavy sigh. "I just wish there was something I could do."

"You being here is already a great comfort to him," Thor reassured him. "He may not show it now, but I know my brother well enough to see that he's grateful for your presence."

Harry nodded, feeling slightly better knowing that Loki wasn't pushing him away completely. He was still there. But, there was an undeniable strain in their bond that left him feeling hollow.

Thor patted him on the back before standing up. "Get some rest, my friend. We have a lot to discuss tomorrow”

Harry saw him walk away and stood in the hallway for a few more minutes. Soking in the silence before he walked over to the first room he came across.

The room Harry entered was quite plain; it appeared almost clinical, as if it had never been occupied, with no attempt to add any warmth or character. But Harry didn’t care—he'd slept in far worse places and was completely exhausted. There was a bed, and it smelled fresh and appeared newly made, so he walked over and collapsed face-first onto the mattress, his body sinking into it like he was lying on a fluffy cloud.

He was just alert enough to set up a protective ward around the floor, driven by both his and Loki's paranoia at the moment as his mind would not allow him to rest otherwise. Within moments, he was fast asleep.

. ⬝ : * ¨¨ *: ⬝ . 💓 . ⬝ : * ¨¨ *: ⬝ .

Chapter Text

It felt as though the earth had vanished from beneath his feet, sending his aching body crashing onto a cold, unforgiving floor. Harry struggled to steady himself, reaching out for anything to anchor him, but his limbs flailed helplessly in the void. As he jolted awake, a sharp gasp escaped his lips as pain radiated through his chest.

The fog within Harry's mind clung persistently, like a damp shroud, leaving him feeling both grounded and disoriented. The sensation sent erratic jolts through his system, causing every nerve to tingle and buzz uncertainly.

Harry thought he had distinguished his dreams from memories by now, yet, doubt gnawed at him. Some dreams were calm and soothing, reminiscent of gentle rain on parched earth. Others were pure agony, akin to acid rain scorching a barren landscape, or laughter echoing menacingly in his mind, accompanied by the dreadful sensation of being immobilized, either by force or by some unseen magic. He found himself perpetually ensnared, caught between the tangible confines of reality and the boundless abyss of despair.

There was no gentle transition between the tranquil realm of dreams and the harsh reality of consciousness. His eyes darted to the unfamiliar ceiling above, half-expecting it to collapse and bury him beneath its weight. But the ceiling remained steadfast. Slowly, he turned his head to the side, squinting at the window where a feeble light barely filtered through the heavy drapes, casting faint shadows across the room.

The feeling of wrongness was killing him. Honestly even worse than before and he could now say confidently that he’d died three times. Yet, it still was not death he was afraid of. It was this feeling that was eating him away. The sensation of not being able to stand straight, and to be everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

Memories from previous events filtered through his mind as he calmed down. It hadn't been a dream at all, it all had been real this time. He had found Loki. They had fought against the mad titan and won in a mind battle. Ha! Hermione would never believe him that he had used his head this time.

However, after all that had transpired, it hit Harry all at once, leaving him feeling exhausted and depleted. He carefully probed at the bond with Loki, checking to see that he was still there.

The heavy block was there, but it was pulsing with magic and life. Like the wall between them was still up, and Harry couldn't get through to him.Probably because Loki did not want him to.

The feeling tore at him in a way he couldn't quite put into words. It was an ache deep within his heart that made each beat a source of pain. It felt as though his chest was both too tight and strangely empty at the same time, leaving him caught between wanting to escape the discomfort and clinging to it for reasons he couldn't understand.

Harry groaned as he pushed himself into a sitting position. His whole body was sore, screaming in protest at his action. Uncaring, Harry went to what he believed to be the bathroom and relieved himself before slowly making his way towards the shower.

He had used too much magic in such a short time, and as expected, it had taken its toll on both his body and his mind. Harry was pretty sure that Hermione would have made him see a healer - or a muggle doctor if she were desperate enough - as his whole body ached with every single movement.

Therefore, it was a good thing that Hermione wasn't there. It was easy for Harry to get away with his sore body and probably magic exhaustion that way, and after casting a wandless tempus he could conclude that he had slept for 10 hours straight, and it was now nightfall.

Harry wearily rubbed his face, noticing the gritty texture of his skin beneath his fingers. It didn't require much convincing for him to conclude that a shower was his best option. After enjoying a warm shower, he emerged from the bathroom feeling somewhat more human. A towel hung low around his hips, while he used a smaller towel to dry his long hair, which had finally stopped growing.

It no longer bothered him how androgynous he looked; Harry had accepted it as a change in his heritage and something that came with his title as master of death, as Death has no gender.

Harry shuffled over to the window and looked at the fading light shining its last hour over Manhattan’s buildings. He was so high up that the other skyscrapers couldn’t block the magnificent view. It almost felt like he could reach the sky if he tried. Now, if only he could find the courage to speak to Loki. He wanted to give the god the space he had asked for. Harry huffed and ran his fingers through his damp hair, making the long strands fall messily around his shoulders.

At least he was still in the building.

Harry pulled on a pair of clean clothes from the closet, hoping they were put there for any visiting guests. He left the room pulling on the too-big sweater and deciding to skip socks entirely.

His feet felt cold against the tiled floor that led him out into the hallway; he quickly glanced at the door to the room where Loki was staying but didn't stop outside it, continuing down the hallway to a large living room that was cozy but stylishly decorated. Freshly picked flowers adorned an elegant vase on a massive, glass, coffee, table.

Harry continued into the kitchen and searched the fridge, he was hungry, but at the same time, nothing attracted him. He sighed and closed the fridge door again before walking back into the hallway.

He stood in the pleasantly lit corridor, feeling the emptiness creep inside his tired body. The invisible hand around his heart grabbed the organ and squeezed it tightly. It felt as if the walls were getting closer, and the air suddenly felt too thick for him to pull down into his lungs. With a loud pop, he disappeared from the scene, only to appear on the roof of the massive building.

The wind tore at his large clothes, and he took a deep breath and squeezed his hands together as he tried to calm down his racing heart. His head pounded, and he felt almost faint; whether it was from lack of oxygen or relief, he didn’t know.

His vision was swirling, and the sensation of his knees buckling beneath him forced him to sit down on the roof and take one breath after another, letting the feeling of the wind fill him up. Harry closed his eyes and let the exhaustion come over him like a black blanket yet again, but he didn’t fall asleep.

After several eventful days, the city seemed to have recovered fast enough as night descended. Twinkling lights flickered to life in every corner and house, clinging to the darkness around it like speckled raindrops dripping down a window pane. It transformed the damaged city into a sea of stars, lights, sounds, and cars, with all its people breathing life into the city itself. So, what if the building was damaged? The city didn't sleep, it wouldn’t wait.

It was so different from back home in Britain.

A cold breeze pulled past him and played with his now tousled hair, a slow, heavy weight sinking into his gut. He sighed and tried to relax his mind, making it a blank slate, and then gently asking his mind to provide him with a happy memory. However, what came to his mind was nothing from his life; it was from Harald’s time; he shook his head. It didn't matter, he tried to tell himself as he let the memory fill him up, the tingling sensation traveling down his arms as the corporal wolf leaped out of his hand. Trotting around and looking for danger but finding none, he trotted back to Harry and let his snout butt against his cheek.

“Hi there,” Harry smiled, stroking the magical wolf’s head, slightly sad that it no longer represented prongs. Yet, it showed how he indeed had changed. “Would you mind taking a message to Ron and Hermione? They’re probably freaking out by now.” The wolf raised its massive head and snorted, and Harry smiled.

“Everything is all right, I have Loki, and we won. I'm sorry, but I have to ask you to stay away for a while until we can be sure everything is safe. Consider this as a vacation and make the most of it. I'll reach out to you the moment I have more information.” With that, the wolf gave his hand a lick before darting off to deliver the message to his friends, leaving Harry alone once more.

Harry let the night wrap him in a soft blanket of darkness and leave him alone with his thoughts. Harry dragged a hand roughly through his hair again, a habit that he would probably have to force out of himself as it only made his hair a mess. But as the stillness wrapped around him his mind was a mess.

Why did all this have to happen to him? Was his life not as hard as it was? There were so many thoughts swirling inside him, each more troubling than the last.

Even if Loki had refused to look at him in the end, the connection lingered, undeniable yet fraught with tension. He knew that Loki harbored suspicions about everything within him at this moment. Harry understood Loki's uncertainty, and his struggle to discern reality from madness, but that awareness did little to ease the turmoil inside Harry.

He longed for Loki's presence but hesitated to impose himself, fearing he might push Loki into something unwanted. What if Loki no longer desired him? What if too much time had passed and he was no longer needed? What would he do then? Even if he wanted to talk, to do something. He did not want to force Loki.

So, Harry had done the next best thing, removed himself for the time being until the god could sort out his thoughts and feelings. Perhaps not the best idea for him to be alone with his mind right now as his head was starting to turn on him.

Had it only been a few weeks since it all had started? It felt so much longer. Was this what reincarnation was like? Would his memories and those of Harald’s forever jump around and battle for who he was? Harry or Harald, Harald or Harry, every time he looked at Loki, he was overwhelmed with warm feelings and needs that could only be summed up as love.

He didn't know how to react to this whole thing.

Bloody hell, Harry knew that he was screwed because a small part of him knew that Loki was his soul mate, he was allowed to feel everything Harald had, yet he couldn't shake the feeling that he was bypassing the entire process of courting and truly getting to know each other.

Harry dragged a hand through his hair, listening to the sound of honking cars and people yelling. His memories were like enormous puzzles. Yes, some of the complex bits had started to slot together inside his mind, but there were still many pieces scattered at the edges and he had no idea how to place them. Those fragmented pieces felt alien to him, they didn’t feel like his own memories. Did he have the right to feel like this?

For a moment, the landscape in front of him seemed to blur and waver into a whole other setting. Different faces popped up that he could no longer quite recognize. Briefly, he even thought that he could hear the soft, pooling sound of water, and bright green eyes looking up at him with trust and adoration, and it ached.

That wasn't his life. Loki hadn't fallen for him, and it was painfully clear that Loki felt the same way. Loki probably didn't want anything to do with Harry because he knew he wasn't Harald. Harry understood this, but the storm of emotions and memories raging inside him refused to accept it.

He didn't want to be anyone’s replacement, yet he couldn't shake the feeling that it was his destiny. He was still Harry Potter, the son of Lily and James Potter, and that should have been enough. As he tried to swallow around the stubborn lump in his throat, he felt torn between accepting his worth and the nagging suspicion of being merely a stand-in for someone who was no longer there.

Harry refused to believe that his entire existence was summed up in filling the void left by another, yet the thought persisted, gnawing at him. He hated this.

An intense pain suddenly ripped through Harry like a lightning strike, freezing his entire body in a suspended moment of sheer torment. Everything went blindingly blank before the excruciating pain fractured his vision, and his mind shattered under the pressure of an unbearable onslaught. His body desperately struggled to draw in a breath, but it was futile, nothing responded, nothing functioned.

It was like his vision paused for a second, and then he saw everything tilt to the side as he started to fall, but before he could hit the roof or roll-off, someone caught him, and the panicked look of Loki came into his vision. He could see the man's hands touch his face, but he couldn’t feel it at the moment as it felt like he had been split apart.

“..ase....n… ple….”

His vision was blurry and Harry blinked, trying to focus on the green dots above him and the warm finger against his cheek. It was strangely hard, he felt so cold and detached from himself. For a moment, Harry felt as though his soul had left his body and was watching as a separate being.

The electric pulses were back all over his skin, coursing through his skin and tingling every nerve. Harry heard a deep voice calling to him, yet the words were indistinct as if his head were submerged in water. However, the soft, warm touch of a hand kept him grounded as his vision began to clear, and he stared up at his soulmate’s face.

Harry gradually regained his sight and found himself staring at the pale face and raven-black hair of the trickster god.

Loki hugged Harry so hard against his own body he could hardly breathe, refusing to let go of him. Harry felt his body slowly start returning, and he choked on the air as the pain broke off, as if it had never been there. He breathed heavily as he lay limp in Loki's arms, feeling trembling fingers dig into his scalp and something wet sipping down his neck.

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, please don’t leave me again,” Loki pleaded with a broken voice as he burrowed his face into Harry’s neck. It was then that Harry noticed that Loki was shaking like a leaf in the wind. The wetness he had felt was the god’s tears.

As the tension and pain slowly ebbed away, Harry's mind began to clear, and he realized that he had just experienced another one of his strange episodes. They always seemed to happen when his emotions were at their strongest, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of dread every time they occurred.

But at this moment, as he lay in Loki's arms, all he could feel was a strong sense of relief. He was safe, and Loki was here with him. That was all that mattered.

Slowly, Harry lifted his hand to touch the side of Loki's face, turning it towards him so that their eyes could meet.

"Loki," Harry said softly, his voice slightly hoarse from the recent ordeal. "I'm sorry, I did not mean to scare you."

Loki's throat tightened as he looked into Harry's emerald eyes, seeing both vulnerability and strength in them. He blinked back tears and took a deep breath before responding.

"Harry," He whispered back, almost afraid to speak aloud for fear of breaking the moment. "I thought I had lost you again."

There was so much emotion in those few words - love, fear, regret. It broke Harry's heart to see Loki like this. He knew how much guilt the god carried for not being able to save Harald before. But now was not the time for discussions or apologies; they needed to focus on the present.

"I'm here now," Harry reassured him with a small smile. "And I'm not going anywhere."

Loki nodded shakily and pulled Harry closer into an embrace once again. They stayed like that for a few moments until Loki finally pulled away slightly, wiping away any stray tears from his cheeks before composing himself once more.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked worriedly.

Loki did not answer, he only hugged Harry even closer than he had before. His embrace soothed the ache in Harry’s soul.

“Loki?” Harry murmured again

“Don’t ever do that again, not ever, please,” Loki whispered brokenly, “I-I can’t…. not again, -never- again.”

Harry stared up at him, confused, he had no idea what had happened. Somehow, his confusion must have leaked through their connection, because Loki answered him.

“You… you disappeared for a second, you…. were gone again,” Loki breathed out as Harry frowned, gone? “It was like...like… the bond was broken, and I-I could not feel you. “

Harry's heart clenched at Loki's words. He hadn't meant to cause him any pain or worry. But then, he realized that the strange episodes he sometimes experienced must have something to do with their bond as soulmates.

"I'm sorry," Harry said softly, his fingers trailing gently across Loki's cheek. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Loki shook his head, his grip on Harry tightening. "You didn't…., you... you disappeared," he repeated, his voice trembling.

The weight of Loki's words hung heavy in the air, a palpable ache that echoed through the bond they shared. Harry's fingers lingered on Loki's cheek, his touch a fragile anchor in the storm of emotions that raged between them. The god's trembling had begun to subside, but the fear in his eyes remained, a stark reminder of the fragility of their connection.

"I don't understand what's happening to me," Harry admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. The confession felt like a crack in the armor he'd built around himself, a vulnerable truth he could no longer keep hidden. "These episodes... they just happen. I don't know how to control them."

Loki's gaze softened the sharp edges of his fear blunted by the sincerity in Harry's words. He reached up to cover Harry's hand with his own, his touch warm and grounding. "We'll figure it out," he said, his voice steady now, a promise rather than a plea.

The assurance brought a small, tentative smile to Harry's lips. "But what if I'm losing myself?" Harry murmured, the fear he'd been trying to keep at bay surfacing yet again.

Loki's grip on his hand tightened. "You could never lose yourself to anything, Harry. Not truly. You are more resilient than you know." He paused, his voice dropping to a whisper.

The words were a balm to Harry's fractured soul, a reminder of the unbreakable bond they shared. He opened his eyes to meet Loki's, the depth of emotion there a mirror of his own. For a moment, they just looked at each other, the world around them fading into the background.

Loki’s face was etched with worry, his hands cradling Harry's as if he would never let go. "I'm here," Loki said, his voice low and steady. "You're safe."

Harry nodded, though the fear lingered. He knew that whatever was happening to him, was far from over. But for now, in this moment, he was exactly where he needed to be.

Loki gripped Harry’s hand firmly and kissed the inside of his arm, directly over the flowers that crawled up to his shoulders. Harry blinked in surprise over how the flowers seemed to move, responding to Loki's affection with shy adoration.

Loki sighed, leaning his forehead against Harry’s, and refused to let go of the smaller man. Whatever had just happened, it scared Loki, and honestly, it scared Harry too. That pain...was like his very soul tearing apart.

“We have to get you to Asgard right now,” Loki whispered, voice still thick with panic. “Healer...you must see a healer...”

Loki’s breath mingled with Harry’s as he pulled him closer, the desperation in his voice a stark contrast to the calm he usually wielded. Harry’s heart raced, not just from the lingering echoes of pain, but from the raw vulnerability in Loki’s eyes. He knew that look, that tone—it was the sound of Loki unraveling, of the walls he’d built over centuries beginning to crack.

“I’m okay, Loki, really,” Harry said as he released the other man. Loki cradled him now, one of his hands deep in his hair, and the other around his middle, not letting him go.

“I can’t lose you again,” Loki said brokenly.

“And you will not, I promise,” Harry said, allowing himself to melt into the embrace, Loki’s head still burrowed into his neck. Could he even die? Harry wondered; he was the master of death. Perhaps the next time he met the deity, he would ask them.

The city hummed around them, a cacophony of car horns and distant sirens blending with the faint hum of magic in the air. Harry’s fingers brushed against Loki’s jaw, his touch gentle but grounding. Loki’s breath hitched, his eyes fluttering closed as he leaned into the touch, the tension in his body easing ever so slightly.

“Loki,” Harry murmured, his voice soft but steady. “Whatever is happening… I… we’ll figure it out, Together, if you will have me that is”

Loki’s gaze snapped back to his, sharp and searching. For a moment, they just stared at each other, the world around them fading into the background. Harry could see the battle waging in Loki’s eyes—the fear, the guilt, the determination. It was a storm Harry knew all too well, one he’d witnessed before in the dreams of their past lives.

Harry let the silence come over them as they both calmed down. He rested against Loki's warm body, his frame melting into the older one’s like he was made to be there, he probably was. However, could he wish for Loki to love him? He was only partly the person who Loki had married.

He was no longer Harald, yet somehow, Harald lingered within him—a truth Harry struggled to embrace. Harald had once possessed everything, only to cast it aside with such carelessness. The ache twisted fiercely within him, and Harry let out a muted hiss as he shut his eyes, caught between resentment and the remnants of his old self.

Loki bit his lip, but Harry patted his hand; it was nothing.

‘I’m… sorry.’

Harry looked up at Loki, who was now staring down at him finally opening their connection again. ‘For… shutting you out… I...’ He sighed. ‘I could not believe you were real, and my mind is still so scrambled that I don’t know what to do… or think.’

Harry was silent as he looked over the city below them while Loki continued, ‘I know that H- ‘ Loki took a deep breath ‘That Harald is dead, yet he is you, and you -are- him.’

Silence filled the space between them for several heartbeats before Harry cupped the other man’s cheek, forcing him to look up.

‘...perhaps you are right,’

“Perhaps I am,” Harry murmured, his voice barely audible over the distant hum of the city. “But what does that mean? For us… for you and me?”

Loki’s gaze faltered, his lashes dipping as he turned his face into Harry’s touch. “It means,” he began, his voice low and careful, “that you are not a replacement, Harry. You are… you. Every piece, every fragment, every memory that makes you who you are.”

Harry’s breath hitched, the words striking him with the force of a storm. He felt the familiar tug of the bond between them, that invisible thread that wove their souls together. It pulsed now, warm and steady, a reminder of what they shared. “And what if I don’t know who that is?” he whispered, the vulnerability in his voice raw and unguarded.

Loki’s hand found his, their fingers intertwining as Loki stepped closer, the space between them shrinking until their chests nearly touched. “Then we figure it out together,” Loki said, his voice steady, his eyes locking onto Harry’s. “You don’t have to know everything right now. You just have to… be here. With me.”

The simplicity of the words hit Harry like a balm to his fractured soul. He nodded, the movement small but significant. “I’m here,” he said, his voice firmer now. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Loki’s lips curved into a faint smile, the expression softening the sharp angles of his face. “Good,” he said, his voice tinged with relief. “Because I’m not letting you go.”

The city around them seemed to breathe, the lights flickering in time with the rhythm of their hearts. Harry felt the weight of his doubts slowly lifting, like the ebbing tide, as Loki’s hand tightened around his. Together, they stood there, two souls bound by something deeper than time or memory, their connection a beacon of hope in the chaos of the world.

And for the first time in what felt like an eternity, Harry felt a sense of peace settle over him, a quiet understanding that no matter what the future held, he wasn’t alone.

Hopefully, Loki was willing to forgive him. Slowly - very slowly - Harry sat up, and as he did, he felt more alive than he had ever done before, more aware of his own living body and mind. His heart was pounding fiercely in his chest as he now took a good look at his other.

Loki's clothes were dirty and rumpled, and his hair was a royal mess, like the rest of him. Yet, nothing of that mattered as their eyes met. A suffocating feeling ebbed out from Loki, and Harry noticed that Loki's hands were trembling at his side as if he were still afraid.

“It is all right,” Harry told him in a low voice, trying to sound reassuring for both himself and Loki.

Was he even worth this chance? Was he even worthy of Loki's affection or love? Was this even real? Who knows what waited for them in the future...

Loki answered the flood of questions inside Harry with a short, harsh laugh, full of bitterness and sharpness that made Harry wince, expecting the worst yet still hoping for something else.

“You really are Harald’s reincarnation,” Loki suddenly said out loud, shaking his head as he walked a few steps away, having both felt and heard some of Harry's thoughts. “Thinking everything is your fault, and you are not worthy of me.”

Harry smiled a little, “Hello pot, meet kettle.”

Loki huffed low in amusement before a low broken laugh escaped him: it was true.

” But are you sure?” Loki sighed as he let go of Harry, putting more distance between them as he spoke in a more serious tone.

“Of what?” Harry asked, slightly confused.

“I’m not who I used to be. I am only going to drag you down and destroy you, the same way that everything is destroyed under my touch.” Everything will be taken away from him, he will lose everything he holds dear, and Odin will never let him see the daylight ever again. Of that, Loki was sure, he was a monster, a killer. Harry reached forward and took hold of his chin.

“Stop with that thinking,” Harry pleaded softly as he heard the echo of his thoughts “I can’t expect you to be the same, as I'm not. So many things have happened since we last saw each other, too much, and time has passed for both of us.” He forced Loki to look into his eyes, and Harry felt his heart beat harder against his already bruised rib cage.

“But here, right now, looking into your eyes, feeling what you are feeling, I still recognize the man I once loved. It's all incredibly confusing, even for me. I'm no longer Harald; I've lived an entirely different life. I've experienced war, witnessed the deaths of loved ones, been pursued just for being, and sacrificed myself for a different cause. Still, my feelings are genuine."

Loki opened his mouth to protest, but Harry silenced him again with his hands over his lips, a very effective way to shut him up. “I have also killed, Loki.” Harry stroked his thumb over his cheek as he continued.

 “Neither of us is the same, and I know this. But even after all this time, I still remember, and even if both of our memories are scrambled, there is one thing I know: after all this time, my heart and soul still belong to you and only you.”

Loki pushed his hand away and grabbed the back of Harry's head, sealing Harry's lips with his own, making Harry gasp as a pleasant feeling tingled over his mouth.

 “Why are you always so good with words?” Loki asked, pulling slightly back, his lips still grazing Harry's lips as he spoke, sending shivers down his spine.

“It's a gift,” Harry chuckled as he tried to get his quick breathing under control, leaning his head against Loki's shoulder as the older man was still towering over him. He took a deep breath of Loki's unique smell: electricity, leather, and books.

Loki drew Harry deeper, fingers knitting in Harry's dark locks, breath intertwining in shared space as his heart began to thunder. His arm tightened around his hips, making it almost impossible to get away, not that he wanted to. He could feel a warm breath against his throat as Loki’s breath was as fast as his own, making a new tingling journey down his body, but this time in excitement.

It filled him with an unexpected lust, not to mention a need he had never felt before. It was like he could not get enough of this feeling as he finally had found it again, like a drug he was forever addicted to. A voice from the ceiling interrupted before anything could happen, making both men draw apart and stand battle-ready within seconds.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your reunion,” the polite and somewhat British voice said from somewhere around them, “But Boss would want me to remind you about no funny business on top of his tower, and I will quote - it is unfair for the villain to get laid tonight as he has destroyed half of Manhattan, so go to bed before the pirate notices that his guests are out of their rooms- “

JAVIS words hung in the air, a stark contrast to the charged moment it had interrupted. Loki's eyes narrowed, his lips curling into a wry smile as he stepped back, releasing Harry from his embrace. "How... thoughtful of you to remind us," Loki said, his tone laced with sarcasm, though his cheeks betrayed a hint of embarrassment.

Harry, ever the thoughtful one, chuckled softly, running a hand through his hair. "Guess we've got our orders," he said, his voice light, though his eyes still held the spark of their interrupted passion.

Loki sent the ceiling an amused look before shrugging. “Oh? If he wants to look, he is welcome to do just that.”

“Loki!”

“What?” The god answered, amused, before reconsidering, “But on the other hand, your body is only for me to see….” He hummed as his eyes raked over Harry's lithe frame, making him feel like he was being undressed with only a gaze. “I’m sorry, my dear, sadly we probably need to wait a little bit longer for our reunion. ”

Harry opened his mouth several times before groaning as the heat in his cheeks traveled down his throat, and he probably was as red as the Weasleys’ hair. “You are impossible!”

“Thank you.”

“That was not a compliment.”

“Sure, it was.”

Harry chuckled and shook his head as the playful banner came as naturally to them as it had done before. It was a wonderful feeling that filled Harry like nothing could go wrong if they only stayed together. Whatever tomorrow would bring them, and whatever Odin would say when they stood in front of him, they would face it together.

Harry didn't realize how tense he'd become until Loki’s warm fingers brushed against the base of his neck, gentle yet firm enough to draw a startled sigh from his lips. They’d somehow shifted closer without Harry even noticing, Loki's fingertips skirting along his spine with an easy, intimate touch. “It will be all right,” Loki said quietly, as though sensing the tightening cords of worry beneath Harry's relaxed posture.

And it was those small things—that reassuring pressure on his back, the light shift of Loki's stance so that his silhouette matched Harry’s perfectly—that grounded him in a world so spiralingly outside his grasp.

As Loki's touch lingered on Harry's back, a sense of calm washed over him, soothing the knots of anxiety that had been building within him. The warmth of Loki's presence enveloped him like a protective shield, grounding him in the moment.

Harry turned his head slightly, meeting Loki's gaze with a mixture of gratitude and affection. In that silent exchange, they communicated more than words ever could. They shared a deep connection, a bond forged through shared experiences and unspoken understanding.

Without breaking eye contact, Loki's thumb brushed lightly against Harry's cheek, a silent reassurance that everything would indeed be alright. Harry felt a surge of strength within him, knowing that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face them together, supporting each other every step of the way.

As the tension eased from Harry's shoulders, he leaned into Loki's touch, savoring the comfort it brought. In that moment, surrounded by warmth and love, Harry knew that they were stronger together than they could ever be apart.

With a soft smile, Harry whispered, "Thank you," his voice filled with emotion.

Loki's eyes softened, mirroring the love and devotion that Harry felt in his heart. "Always," Loki replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

And in that quiet moment, as they stood together in the face of uncertainty, Harry knew that as long as they had each other, they could weather any storm that came their way.

Chapter Text

Harry woke up to the sun's warm rays dancing over his face. He groaned, annoyed that he had forgotten to close the curtains yesterday. For a second, it was hard to know what was still a memory dream and what was reality. He pressed one of his hands over his eyes to try and push back the throbbing sensation that was making itself known. No, scratch that. This was the real world, no doubt about that. His whole body was stiff, and his back was the worst.

Harry stared up at the white ceiling through his fingers. Memories from yesterday invaded his mind, making him frown as something similar had happened in his memory-dreaming. That probably explained why he had some difficulties discerning reality. He felt a sour taste in his mouth as he tried to get his saliva to work, rubbing his sore forehead.

Harry relaxed into the soft mattress, slowly becoming aware of his surroundings as he grounded himself. With each breath he took, he could feel the walls vibrating with life and taste magic in the air. The residual memories were at the forefront of his mind. They were nothing special. It had been Harald, Loki, and Thor discussing the matter of Asgard late one night in front of a sparkling fire.

Harry could still remember the tickling smell of burning wood. The crackling sound was like a lullaby, and he remembered the feeling of running his fingers through Loki's night-black hair, letting his nails lightly scratch his scalp. The heat from the fire against his shin made the skin feel tight, and Thor's deep voice created a perfect bubble around them.

It was warmth and love, without a doubt, a familiar situation for the three of them. Harry opened his eyes again, not remembering closing them as he forced down the bile trying to make its way up his throat. He tried to force down the bittersweet feeling now surging at the memory. It felt like his entire existence was trying to taunt him, dangle what he had once had and had subsequently lost right before his eyes.

He had no right to the feelings the memories contained. It wasn't Harry's life. It was Harald's. But was it so wrong of him to want to cherish these memories? To be a part of them? Even if he, Harry, wasn’t a part of them? It must be a normal reaction, right? But then again, who was he to decide what was normal and what was not?

He had never been considered normal in his entire life. Even as a baby, his existence was seen as a miracle, having survived the killing curse. Before he was eleven, he thought he was no more than a freak, unwanted, and a burden to his aunt and uncle. Then, his world was turned upside down when he was told he was a wizard—an important one, for that matter.

Throughout his school years, the war and fighting, he had never been normal, constantly ending up in strange situations and plots. So no, he was not the right person to say what was normal. But, to him -Harry - waking up like this was a new experience, the feelings bubbling inside him were almost unknown, yet it all felt so familiar as the memories of Harald’s time blended with his, robbing him of his own first-time experience of it all.

Warm air caressed his neck, snapping Harry out of his spinning mind, and he suddenly became hyper-aware of the warm body lying next to him. He was no stranger to having someone warm his bed; there had been a few throughout his school years, and it had been an excellent way to relax and take his mind off the world outside.

However, given his current complicated emotional and romantic situation... Yeah, that was a new can of worms that Harry was not equipped to poke at, not yet, at least. Harry tried to tell himself that he was stupid: everything was all right, and he should not feel conflicted over the other soul slowly taking over his own. But was it the right way to go?

Harry had always struggled with romantic feelings or the concept of love, not knowing quite what he could expect from the emotion. Being a touch-starved and neglected child - Hermione's word had been 'abused' – not that he would ever admit it, but as a child, no one had given him any good experiences or references for that so-called ‘love’ everyone was talking about.

It took his friends a lot of work to relearn a decade of neglect and twisted words. Some days, he could still feel it all weighing down on his shoulders. But now, with Harald's memories, he suddenly had a completely different set of references to what love was and what it felt like without even experiencing them himself, and he find himself craving it.

The need to touch and feel the warmth of his significant other was engraved in his very soul. It was different, and it scared him in a thrilling kind of way, and he wanted to explore it more. But he held back. This was not the time for that. How much he desired those lips sent shivers down his spine, making him crave more.

Harry raised his hand to carefully stroke away the hair that had fallen over Loki’s face but pulled back at the last second. He didn’t want to disturb him now that he seemed to be getting the rest he needed.

Loki’s skin was almost transparent, and there were large bags under his eyes. Loki was more mentally exhausted than he had let on. As he should have been, Loki’s mind had been on the edge of breaking. Right now, as he slept, the deep wrinkles on his forehead were smoothed out, and his mouth was half open and relaxed, unaware that he was being stared at.

A soft tickling sensation came over the bond, breaking Harry out of his thoughts. The soft feeling of his soulmate’s presence suddenly felt too raw and personal for his mind to handle. Harry never knew the weight of a promise like the one he made with Loki last night. To try again, to do it together this time. It would be even more challenging than facing off with Thanos, which still was a little bit anti-climactic, truth be told, but he was happy nonetheless that that part was over.

Still, how could he help Loki with his demons when he continued to struggle with his own? Last night, the shattering pain that had gone through his chest had been horrible enough. It was so much worse than the small pinches he had before. By the gods, it had felt like his very soul had been ripped in two.

How could Loki even want to be close to him after everything Harald had put him through? Harry wasn't stupid. He knew it was all because of Harald's death that Loki had fallen into Thanos' grasp, one way or the other. How could he have been foolish enough to think that Loki's family would look after him when he knew his mate’s struggle growing up?

Harry slowly untangled himself from Loki without waking him up and exited the bed stiffly. He picked up a shirt lying on a chair and put on a pair of pants, ignoring socks as he walked barefoot out of the bedroom. The coldness of the floor grounded him in the present.

The corridor outside was quiet and still. Nothing from the outside world penetrated the thick walls, which felt strange. There had always been some noise around him, if not the house’s creaking, then the chatter of some magical being was always around. Here, there is just a low hint of humming from the walls, but not even that could be called noise. Harry let his eyes wander as he walked over to the kitchen. His steps were stiff, and he could feel his muscles protesting being in motion, but he ignored it as he needed to move.

Harry paused in the opening of the kitchen and took the whole thing in. Everything was high class and exclusively done, even he knew that with only one look, but that was not all. It was also filled with all this new technology, some of which he had never seen before, and he had been the main cook in the Dursleys' house, so he was no stranger to cooking devices. But this? This was like he was back at eleven and was introduced to the Wixen world—a new world of steel and electricity.

Harry slowly walked inside and looked around in the cupboards, quickly finding where they kept the cups. He even found bread and put one in the toaster, only for the machine to sparkle under his touch and fizzle out with a soft popping sound.

“Oh, come on!” Harry protested as he stared at the now-broken toaster.

Why could nothing go his way? He wanted to scream and blow things up in frustration, and he could feel the magic inside of him rippling underneath his skin, making it crawl and feeling too tight for his liking. Harry took a deep breath and let it go. He hoped he did not need to explain how he could kill the poor toaster to anyone.

Harry looked down at his cup and then over to the coffee machine. The shiny, high-tech, ready-to-pour machine. Of course, he needed to push the display to get it to work. Honestly, he had never entirely understood the fascination with coffee in the morning or the need that some people developed for the dark drink to wake up and function. However, he could appreciate the taste and now felt like a perfect time for a cup of coffee to calm his inner storm.

Only this time, when he really, really needed one, he was hindered by the high possibility of him making the whole thing go ‘boom’, and then there would be no more coffee and no more machine for that matter either.

“If I may,” the sudden voice interrupted Harry’s thoughts as he looked up at the ceiling. “I can help you start the machine without touching it, Mr Potter.”

“Wait, you can do that?” Harry up at the ceiling.

“Yes, everything is connected to me. Or if it would be more to your liking, I could call up a coffee from a nearby café that Sir like if you would prefer that?” Jarvis informed him.

“You don’t have to do that," Harry breathed out, hurried to put his cup beneath the machine, and stepped back. “This will do just fine. Thank you.” Harry smiled and put down the mug as the machine sprung to life without him even coming near the buttons. “Sorry about the toaster," he apologized sheepishly. “I will pay for it.”

“Don’t worry about it. I have already ordered a new one to be brought up in the afternoon.”

Harry thought better than arguing with an invisible voice as he glanced at the fridge, walked over to it, and made an experimental tap on it to see if he blew it up. When nothing happened, he smiled and opened it. The fridge was overflowing with a variety of food, everything from ham, cheese, vegetables, and other kinds of milk.

Harry looked at one container and frowned slightly. Almond milk? Could you do milk from almonds? How did that work? Was it like pumpkin juice? Anyway. Harry put it back and took out the regular milk. He filled his cup to the desired amount of each liquid before sitting at the kitchen island and breathing calmly. There was no point in thinking about what could have happened or what happened. The only important thing is that it didn't happen right now and that they were alive. The next obstacle was to face Odin.

They have no choice but to face the problem head-on. Despite what happened to Loki, they were still his family and the realm he came from, and he would not give up without a fight. They could run away, hide in one of his houses, and probably be happy, but for how long?

After his experience with running away from an enemy, it was easier to take the bull by the horns and make the best of it. He was here now and would fight for Loki tooth and nail if he had to. He would challenge the All-Father himself, if he must, to protect Loki. For Merlin's sake, he would probably take on what's left of Thanos's fleet if they threatened his soul mate.

No one could hurt another hair on his mate’s head. If they did, they had to face the master of death.

Harry feels a thrilling shiver run down his mind at the thought. Then, they would learn that death was not the worst thing that could happen to someone. Instead, death would be a blessing for whoever hurt Loki now that Harry was here. And it was not because of the memories and who he was once. At least, that was what Harry tried to tell himself as he fingered the edge of his cup.

Why were people so hung up on death being the worst alternative anyway? There were so many other things that could be worse than death. Death was only hard on the living, not the dead. Harry looked out of the enormous window and continued to think while the coffee warmed his cold fingers.

He had no idea how long he had been sitting there before he felt that he was no longer alone. The first indicator that he was no longer alone was a warm tickling feeling that bloomed in his chest, and then he heard the soft steps walk towards him. He looked up only to be met with a now clean and newly showered Loki.

Loki held out a hand, and Harry noticed a mug appear in his hand with black, newly ground coffee. How he filled up the coffee, Harry didn’t know, but he would admit that he felt slightly impressed by the casual display of magic. Loki took a sip of the black liquid and exhaled contentedly as he leaned on the counter and then paused: "What in the name of the nine realms are you drinking?" He asked in a mortified voice.

The question came so suddenly that Harry looked down into his mug, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly as he maintained a neutral expression. "Coffee?"

Loki now almost looked offended. "No, not with that color. What did you do to the poor drink?"

"What's wrong with my coffee?" Harry asked in an amused tone. Loki wasn't the first to comment on his choice of coffee…. Or milk with the taste of coffee would probably be the best description of the drink. He drinks coffee, just not the pitch-black brew that is bitter and far too horrible for his taste. He liked the slightly softer taste, and milk was perfect for that. Maybe some caramel or pumpkin syrup in it, and it would have been a real winner in his book. Something he was sure his other half wouldn't agree with. Interestingly, this was not something that Harald's memories had covered yet. It made Harry feel like there was something new yet to discover.

"It's almost white!" Loki moved closer and looked down into the very bright brew before looking down into his cup and pointing at it. "This is coffee. Of good quality, I reluctantly admit. Stark knows this stuff,” Loki angled his mug containing the almost black liquid, "and you have enough guts to dishonor this lovely drink like that?”

Harry snorted. "Just because I have a little more milk than coffee doesn't make it less coffee."

"A little bit?" Loki commented flatly, "It's more like half milk, maybe two-thirds? Does it even taste like coffee anymore?"

The look of horror on Loki’s face made Harry laugh. “Well, yes,” he said, “It is exactly right”, and he demonstratively took a large gulp of his 'coffee' and made a show of his sigh afterward as he grinned at his other half.

“Perfect!” Harry hummed. “It tasted so much better than that lethal mix you have there. It almost resembles motor oil from here and probably tastes like it.”

Loki laughed. "No, my star, the coffee shall be as bitter and black as my soul is to have the right quality." Loki took a large mouthful of coffee, and Harry had no idea how his mouth could stand that heat.

There was a sudden tension in the air. Harry stared at Loki, and it felt like the world was moving slowly for a second. He could see everything so clearly. Everything from how his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed to the corner of his eyes cringle as their eyes met over the mug’s rim.

Harry realized he had been caught staring at him, but he didn't feel embarrassed about it. Whether he accepted that Harald’s soul was slowly pushing him away, or that he was now bonded to this gorgeous example of a man. Harry could stare.

Harry could also appreciate what he got and go with the flow. So, with that, Loki was his to stare at, however much he wanted.

A wave of possessiveness surged through their bond, and Harry noticed a subtle, amused twitch at one corner of Loki's mouth. A warm flush spread across Harry's cheeks, painting them in shades of pink as he felt a mix of embarrassment and fondness.

“And here I thought I was the darker part of this union,” Harry forced out in a much deeper tone than before, "being the master of death and all that.”

Loki’s brow furrowed briefly while he considered it but then shook his head. “Nope, can’t see it. You are my light, my guiding star in the darkness.”

Harry snorted and shook his head. “Agree to disagree,” he said, and Loki hummed.

Loki’s hum turned into a soft chuckle, and he set his mug down, his fingers brushing against Harry’s as he reached for the sugar. The touch sent a spark of warmth through their bond, and Harry felt it settle in his chest like a steady flame. He watched as Loki’s long fingers danced over the jar, the way his nails caught the dim light of the room and shimmered faintly, a reminder of the magic that ran through him like lifeblood.

“You know,” Loki said, his voice low and smooth, “for a master of death, you’re remarkably… alive.” His gaze lifted, meeting Harry’s, and there was a teasing glint in his eyes, though it was softened by something deeper, something unspoken.

Harry raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “And for a god of mischief, you’re remarkably… serious.” He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, though his eyes never left Loki’s face. “Though I suppose someone has to balance you out.”

Loki’s lips twitched, and he leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. “Perhaps,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a whisper. “But perhaps it’s the other way around. Maybe you’re the one who’s been balancing me all this time.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and Harry felt his chest tighten. He could see the vulnerability in Loki’s eyes, the cracks in the armor he wore so well. It was a side of Loki that few people ever saw, and Harry felt a surge of protectiveness, of love, that he couldn’t quite put into words.

A comfortable silence settled over them, and Harry couldn't help but let his brain begin to drift. He hoped that Hermione and Ron were fine wherever they were and would not kill him on sight when they regrouped, especially when Hermione heard about the invasion.

Speaking of the attack, with Thanos out of the picture, there would be no evident threat to them for the time being, but Harry felt it was not over yet. The only question now was what they would do with the infinity stones that were still hidden, and what would they do? Would they find the stones and store them safely on Earth? Harry couldn't see that as a good idea. Should they let them be?

“Perhaps we can collect them all and keep them in Asgard?" Loki suddenly asked out loud, starling Harry out of his musing.

He didn’t say that out loud, did he?

Loki looked at him, amused. “No love, but you were thinking it really, really loudly. Are you always this loud?” He mused. “Makes me wonder if you are even louder in the bed.”

A warmth spread out from Harry’s cheeks and down his neck, and he choked on his saliva and could not help but chuckle. “Want to find out?” He teased.

Loki looked down at him, his pupils dilating, making his eyes almost black with desire and need as he leaned lightly over Harry with a challenging smile.

“But,” Harry said as he put his forehead to Loki’s and looked him straight in the eyes, "we have time for that too. Now I want to know what you mean by taking the stones to Asgard."

Loki closed his eyes and sighed, "It hurts to admit it, but they have a good vault to store… priceless artifacts in." He spoke the words like they burnt his mouth.

"That doesn't mean we can trust them." Harry’s tone turned darker. He hadn’t met them in this lifetime, but considering everything that happened after Harald’s death and their neglect of Loki’s needs…. He couldn't see himself trusting them enough to even think of giving them something valuable or having Loki in their presence again.

"If there is one thing, it is that Asgardians do tend to protect their interest," Loki bit out, leaving the fact that he was not included, out of his words.

“Yes, but these are also the people that Harald trusted to keep you sane and alive. Look where that got us. They could not stop you from practically losing yourself and give that woman a chance to…..” Harry hissed as he clenched his fist.

The knowledge that Loki had fallen off Bifrost and that his so-called Aunt had done something horrible to his mate made him physically sick. But as soon as those words left Harry's mouth, he regretted them as it looked like he had hit Loki in a rather sensitive spot if the darkness in his eyes told him anything.

“Can you blame them?” Loki sneered as he pulled away, “No one could have fucking stopped me even if they had tried to do so. Why should they?”

“Because they are your family?” Harry said.

"That's the problem!" Loki erupted, his voice a thunderclap that reverberated through the room. The mug in his hand was hurtling through the air with ferocious speed, only to explode into a spray of ceramic shards against the unyielding window.

"Family? HA!" he barked, a bitter laugh slicing through the tension. He flung his arms wide, a gesture of despair and defiance. "None of them ever gave a damn about me! I was just a trophy in their gleaming palace, and once I was shattered, I was discarded like worthless refuse. Why would they care? They don't even possess the capacity to care!" Loki spat, venom lacing every word. His hands trembled violently, a physical manifestation of the storm raging within him, as the wounds of his past remained raw and festering, gnawing at his very soul.

In the morning light, Harry could truly see how tormented Loki was. The sun highlighted the hollowness of Loki's cheeks, casting harsh shadows, and his eyes were filled with deep, troubled emotions, reflecting his fractured state. Harry swallowed hard, attempting to stay calm and steady in his seat. He focused on maintaining their connection, hoping to anchor Loki as his emotions spiraled out of control.

"I know that Thor cares enough to step in and defend you if needed," Harry offered in a low voice.

“You don't know anything!" Loki sneered and wandered back and forth, hand digging through his hair.

It seemed like all of Loki's bitterness and resentment from the past were boiling over. "YOU WEREN'T THERE!" he shouted, flinging out his arm and glaring down at Harry with eyes that were almost completely dark. His chest heaved with each breath, and his arms trembled at his sides.

"No, I wasn't," Harry admitted, struggling to swallow the lump in his throat. "And I'll carry that guilt for as long as I live. There's still so much I don’t know or remember. But I do know that I'm here now, and I will never let you face it alone."

Loki grimaced, his face contorted with a storm of emotions he could no longer contain. A keening sound threatened to escape his throat, a primal cry of anguish and fury that he barely managed to suppress. The bitter chill seeped beneath his skin as if the very air around him was conspiring to freeze his resolve. It was as if a beast lay dormant within him, a ferocious entity yearning to break free and unleash chaos upon the world.

This inner monster clawed at his insides, demanding retribution for the injustices he had suffered. Yet, to give in to this urge would mean exposing his true nature to Harry, a risk he could not afford to take. The fear of losing Harry once more, whether by revealing the monster within or otherwise, held him back, anchoring him to a semblance of control.

Harry stood up to reach out to him, only for Loki to back away as the touch would burn him if he made contact. “Please, no. I'm, I-I’m not in control right now, and you might get hurt. I won't… I can't….” He floundered through the words.

The air in the room seemed to crackle with the weight of unspoken words, each one a spark waiting to ignite.Loki’s breath came in sharp, uneven gasps, and the shadows around him appeared to twist and writhe, as though alive and feeding off his turmoil. The faint hum of Stark Tower's systems faltered for a moment, a subtle reminder of the delicate balance between magic and technology within its walls.

Jarvis's voice, smooth and reassuring, filled the space. "Gentlemen, I must advise caution. The magical fluctuations in the room are reaching unstable levels. Perhaps a brief separation—"

"No!" Loki's voice cut through the air, sharp and desperate. He turned away, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, the knuckles pale against the rush of blood beneath his skin. The room seemed to darken around him, as though the very light itself was recoiling from the storm brewing within.

Harry took a cautious step forward, his eyes never leaving Loki's tense form. "Loki, please," he said softly, his voice a gentle counterpoint to the raw emotion in the air. "You don't have to face this alone. Let me help you."

Loki's laughter was harsh, a sound that grated against the nerves. "Help me?" he repeated, his voice laced with bitterness. "You can't even touch me without risking harm. What could you possibly do to help?"

The words hung in the air like a challenge, and for a moment, Harry seemed to shrink under their weight. But then his shoulders squared, and he met Loki's gaze with a steady determination. "I can listen," he said simply. "I can be here for you, even if it's just to stand in the storm with you."

The room seemed to hold its breath as Loki's gaze wavered, the darkness in his eyes flickering like a flame in the wind. For a moment, it seemed as though the walls he had built around himself might crack, might let in the light Harry so desperately wanted to offer.

Then, without warning, Loki's body stiffened. His head snapped back, and a low, guttural growl tore from his throat. The air around him seemed to ripple and distort, as though reality itself was bending under the pressure of his unleashed power.

"Harry, I think it would be wise to create some distance," Jarvis advised, his tone tinged with urgency.

But Harry didn't move. He stood his ground, his eyes locked on Loki's, even as the shadows around them deepened and twisted into menacing shapes. "I'm not leaving you," he said, his voice firm despite the fear that tightened his chest.

Loki's eyes flashed with a dangerous light, and for a moment, Harry saw something ancient and wild staring back at him, something that didn't belong in this world. But then, as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone, leaving Loki gasping and trembling like a leaf in a hurricane.

The room fell silent, the only sound the soft hum of the Tower's systems as they worked to stabilize the environment. Loki's shoulders sagged, and he turned away, his voice barely above a whisper. "You shouldn't have come here."

Harry took a step forward, his heart pounding in his chest. "I couldn't stay away," he said softly. "You're my soulmate, Loki. Where else would I be?"

The words hung in the air, heavy with emotion. Loki's back stiffened, and for a long moment, he didn't move. Then, slowly, he turned to face Harry, his eyes haunted but no longer filled with that dangerous, otherworldly light.

"You don't understand," Loki drew in an almost painfully deep breath, closed his eyes, and tilted his head back in a stretch. He wasn't going to lose control, not now, not when he finally found the lost part of his soul. But what if this was all in his mind? What if he was really broken? That would explain how he could feel so…complete. This was all a dream. Nothing here was real, and when he opened his eyes again, Harry would be gone, his soulmate would be dead, and he was once again lost.

Loki suddenly flinched as Harry touched his arm. The liquid feeling of electricity sparkled alongside his arm, and his eyes snapped open only to stare down at his mate.

“You won’t hurt me, Loki, and I’m not going anywhere,” Harry said in a low voice.

Loki's breath hitched as Harry's touch sent a surge of calm through him, though his mind raced with the turmoil of his past. The familiar spark of electricity between them was a comforting reminder of their bond, yet it did little to quell the storm brewing inside him. He could feel the magic within him, restless and unpredictable, like a tempest waiting to break free.

"You don't understand," Loki whispered, his voice trembling as he pulled away, though his eyes never left Harry's. The fear of losing control, of harming the one person who had ever truly accepted him, was suffocating. "I'm not safe, Harry. I could hurt you."

Harry's expression softened, his green eyes filled with compassion. "You won't hurt me, Loki. I trust you," he said, his voice steady and reassuring. He reached out again, his fingers brushing against Loki's cheek, sending a shiver down his spine.

Loki's heart ached at the sincerity in Harry's words. He wanted to believe him, to trust that their bond was strong enough to withstand the chaos within him. But the memories of his past, the pain, and the betrayal lingered like an open wound. He could feel the weight of his failures, the fear of repeating the same mistakes.

Suddenly, the air around them seemed to be charged with energy, the Tower's systems humming in response to Loki's fluctuating magic. The lights flickered, and the walls seemed to vibrate with the raw power coursing through him. Loki's breath came in short gasps as he struggled to maintain control, his hands trembling as he raised them, afraid of what might happen if he let go.

"Harry, I—" Loki's voice broke, his eyes wide with fear. He could feel the magic surging, threatening to overwhelm him. He didn't want to hurt Harry, but he didn't know how much longer he could hold on.

Harry stepped closer, his eyes never leaving Loki's. "You don't have to hold on alone," he said, his voice low and urgent. "Let me help you. We can do this together."

Loki's heart pounded in his chest as he looked at Harry, the man who had always been his anchor, his strength. He wanted to believe him, to trust that together they could overcome anything. But the fear was still there, gnawing at him, making him doubt everything.

And then, in a flash of clarity, Loki remembered the words Harald had once told him, words that had stayed with him through the darkest of times. "You are not alone, Loki. I will always be here for you."

With newfound determination, Loki reached out, his hand finding Harry's. The touch was like a balm to his soul, grounding him, and reminding him of the strength they shared. Together, they could face anything, even the chaos within him.

"I'm not going anywhere," Harry repeated, his voice firm. "We'll get through this together."

Loki's eyes met Harry's, and for a moment, the world around them melted away. The fear, the doubt, the pain—all of it seemed to fade into the background as they stood there, hands clasped, hearts beating as one.

And in that moment, Loki knew that as long as Harry was by his side, he could face anything. The magic within him began to settle, the storm subsiding as he found the strength he needed in the man he loved.

“Why aren’t you afraid of me?” Loki suddenly asked, something deeper echoing in his voice than before.

“Why should I be afraid of you?” Harry asked softly, before shaking his head. “No, I Can never be afraid of you. Afraid for you, yes, but I can never be afraid of you.”

“Well, you should be!” Loki bit back.

“Why?”

“Because I'm a monster!” Loki gritted out between clenched teeth. The air in the room had dropped probably a couple of degrees, and a few white puffs emitted at each breath Loki took.

Loki's now dark red eyes stared down at Harry, and he could not hold back the desire that shot through him as he saw them. This was not the pale blue of the mind control. This was something more feral, wilder. The power and madness they held made Harry's skin crawl.

The air around them crackled with tension, the shadows in the room twisting as if alive. Loki's breath came in sharp, uneven gasps, his chest heaving as he struggled to contain the power surging through him. Harry could feel the magic in the air, a wild, untamed force that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. But he didn't step back. He didn't flinch.

"You're not a monster," Harry said, his voice steady, though his heart pounded in his chest. "You're just... lost."

Loki's laughter was sharp and bitter, and it cut through the room like a knife. "Lost?" he repeated, his voice low and dangerous. "You have no idea what I am. What I've done."

"I know you're hurting," Harry said, taking a step closer. "I know you're scared. But I'm not going anywhere. You don't have to face this alone." Harry could feel how his chest swelled with unspoken emotions. The raw need to protect what was his, even if it was from himself. There were no words he could say that would change Loki's mind, not right now. But they didn't need words now, did they?

Harry took a slow breath, gathered everything he could glean from his emotions and Harald's, and began to push them over their connection. A low hiss from Loki was a clear sign that it worked. And if that wasn't proof enough, his dilated pupils that made his eyes turn almost entirely black proved it. Loki closed his eyes in an attempt to rile in his emotions.

‘You are not a monster’, Harry whispered over the link and slowly retched out, letting Loki decide to stay or back away, but it felt like a win as he held his place.

Loki's skin was ice cold to his touch. A spark of magic traveled over Harry’s arm as he slowly drew his broken half closer to himself, grounding him. He was not letting Loki's low growl scare him away because he could feel the raw need underneath it all.

Harry was still unsure what the hell had happened, but it felt right as his arms came up around the shaking form in front of him. —ignoring the coldness against his skin. Loki slowly reached out and ran his finger ever so carefully over Harry's soul mark, like it was a lifeline or something.

Suddenly, without any warning, Loki crashed his mouth onto his, making Harry lose the little thought process he currently had as Loki tilted his body to where he wanted him. The kiss was nowhere near gentle. No, it was the raw need and want to feel the other.

Harry opened his mouth and let Loki take over the kiss, and he felt his head start to spin slightly from the lack of oxygen, but neither wanted to be the first to break the connection. Loki maneuvered him with skilled hands while Harry struggled even to remember how to breathe against the force of his assault.

He was like a starved man that hadn't seen food for a long time. Loki's lips were bruising his with such a powerful need that Harry could do nothing but grip the back of Loki's slender neck to stabilize himself. His hands were on either side of Loki's head, and his fingers dug into his hair, keeping him interlocked within the kiss. Loki growled into his mouth, the sound resonating through Harry’s body as Loki walked him back to the counter’s edge.

Harry briefly felt the sturdy surface behind him before Loki lifted him onto the ledge like he weighed nothing. Harry's legs were placed on either side of Loki’s body so that he was stuck between them, not letting go of the kiss as they switched positions.

Harry was desperate for the warmth the other could give him. Ironic as Loki was cold to his touch, yet his mouth was so warm. Harry could not stop himself from dragging his nails down Loki's scalp and neck, earning a noise combining a hiss and a moan, and Harry grinned into the kiss.

That was precisely the sweet sound that Harry wanted to hear more of. He fisted a handful of black hair and almost forcefully tilted Loki's head so that he would be in a more dominant position. Making the other man moan softly, the vibration sent hot lightning bolts straight to Harry's groan as he held Loki closer.

The thrill of Loki’s small submission underneath him made him crave more as he was a head taller as he sat on the counter. Harry could feel Loki's hands roaming over his back, playing with his hair that had come loose and grasping at his waist.

Harry could feel the trembling of Loki's hands like he had no idea what he was going to do with them, and at the same time, he could feel the content feeling sip through the soul bond. He broke the kiss, gaining a low whimper in protest from his partner, but it didn't last for too long as Loki started to kiss his neck, putting both of their thoughts into words as he did.

"Perhaps," a kiss, "we should," a nibble that drew a gasp, "move to a more comfortable setting?"

Harry hummed as he felt Loki melt into his arms and let his forehead rest against Loki’s. “I don’t think that is a good idea”, Harry chuckled low, happy that Loki had calmed down and was acting more grounded. “Not right now, at least, or I will probably blow up this whole building with how much technology it is here.”

Loki sighed and pulled back slightly, only to look down at him with a resided eyebrow in question.

Harry huffed. “Don’t look at me like that. “

“Like what?”

“Like that.” Harry gave him an unimpressed look as he poked his brows, making Loki capture his hand only to kiss the inside of it.

“Why?” Loki nibbed on the flesh with his long canine.

“Because it is all new to me, and I have a problem controlling my magic at the moment, or whatever this all is,” Harry grumbled as he looked away. “And you are too emotional right now”

“You? Having a problem with magic?” Loki’s brow furrowed now in worry. “and I can handle it”

Harry felt his heart squeeze with gratitude for having Loki. It was hard to believe it was real, with Harald's memories and feelings mingling in. Loki was his mate, his partner, his everything. From now on, they'd face the future together. Harry wanted to hold him close, cherish every inch, and connect through their bond. They'd been apart too long.

“No, not that kind of problem. It’s more like I’m still adjusting to it, that’s all”, Harry sighed.

“Is the magic causing you problems?” Loki frowned, and Harry chuckled and shook his head. “Not all the time, but if we do anything more than Kissing, right now, then I might blow out the electricity in this tower, and we don’t want that. Give me a few hours to calm down”

Loki pouted, and Harry didn’t need to hear or feel anything, but he instantly knew that Loki didn’t care about that. He was troubled that for sure, and the words that came out of him only solidified that statement.

“All right, then let’s blow it up,” Loki said and poked Harry’s side, making him squish away.

“No, Loki! Stop it!“

“Yes, Loki!” the black-haired grinned.

Loki’s fingers danced along Harry’s ribs, relentless in his teasing, and Harry couldn’t help but laugh, the sound warm and genuine despite the growing tension between them. He squirmed away, but Loki followed, his touch light but insistent. “Loki, stop! You’re going to make me lose control for real!” Harry pleaded, his voice laced with a mix of amusement and desperation.

Loki’s grin softened, and he leaned in close, his breath whispering against Harry’s ear. “Maybe I want you to lose control. Maybe I want to see what happens when you let go.” His words were low and tempting, carrying a daring edge that made Harry’s heart race.

Harry turned his head, their faces inches apart. He could see the flicker of mischief in Loki’s eyes, but beneath it, he detected something more serious—a craving for connection, for proof that Harry wouldn’t pull away.

“I'm sorry to interrupt, gentlemen, but I have a message for Mr Odinson. Your brother wishes to speak with you and is on his way.”

Loki gave away an annoying sound. “For Mimer’s sake! why?”

Harry could only agree as they had been interrupted yet again. “Oh wow, cock-blocked yet again by the magic building”, Harry chuckled. “How horrible.”

“Do mind the next word that will come out of your mouth, or I will silence you in a much different way”, Loki groaned as he tried to find the energy to even care.

“Is that a challenge?” Harry asked.

“A promise, now hush," Loki said as he sat on the couch. At least he was not running away.

“Are you going to talk to him?” Harry asked.

Loki let out a deep, dramatic sigh, flopping his head back. “Must I? Can’t he see I’m in the middle of something far more important than whatever it is he wants?” His voice was laced with irritation, but Harry could hear the faintest tremble beneath it, a sign that Loki was more unsettled than he let on.

Harry reached out, brushing a strand of hair from Loki’s face. “You can’t avoid him forever, you know. Whatever it is, you’ll handle it. And I will still be here, the question right now is if you stable enough” he asked softly.

Loki’s jaw tightened, his fingers curling into the fabric of the couch as if anchoring himself to the moment. “Stable?” he repeated, his voice low and laced with a quiet bitterness. “You speak of stability as though it is something I have ever known. As though it is something I can simply… attain.”

He turned his head then, his piercing eyes meeting Harry’s, the vulnerability in them clashing sharply with the sharpness of his tone. “You do not understand, Harald. You cannot. You have never had to bear the weight of what I am. Of what I have done. Of what I could still do.”

Harry’s expression softened, his hand still resting against Loki’s cheek. Letting the slip-up of his name fall. “I understand enough,” he said quietly. “I understand that you are tired. That you are scared. And that you don’t have to face any of it alone.”

Loki’s gaze faltered, his eyelids dropping as though the weight of Harry’s words was too much to bear. “You are relentless, aren’t you?” he murmured, a faint, self-deprecating smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You see the cracks in me, the fractures in my soul, and yet you still insist on believing I am worth the effort.”

“Because you are,” Harry said without hesitation. “You are worth every fight, Loki. Every struggle. Every moment of uncertainty. You are worth it, no matter what.”

The room fell silent then, the only sound the soft hum of the city outside, a distant reminder of the world beyond their fragile, fractured little bubble. Loki’s chest rose and fell with a deep, uneven breath, his hands still clenched in the fabric of the couch. Slowly, he reached up, his fingers brushing against Harry’s wrist, his touch light but deliberate.

“You are a foolish, stubborn, infuriatingly optimistic soul,” Loki said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I… I do not know what I will do without you a second time.”

Harry’s heart swelled at the admission, the vulnerability in Loki’s voice striking him with the force of a storm. He leaned in, his forehead pressing against Loki’s, his breath mingling with Loki’s as he spoke. “You will never have to find out.”

For a moment, there was nothing else. No fear, no doubt, no looming shadows of the past or the future. There was only the two of them, suspended in a fragile, perfect moment of understanding. And in that moment, Loki let go of the couch, his hands finding Harry’s, his fingers intertwining with Harry’s in a silent, desperate plea for connection, for grounding, for hope.

But even as they sat there, the weight of the world outside pressed in, a constant reminder that their peace was fleeting. Loki’s thoughts drifted to the golden halls of Asgard, to the All-Father’s throne, to the expectations that hung over him like a sword. He knew he couldn’t avoid it forever. And yet, with Harry by his side, he felt a spark of courage he hadn’t felt in years.

Harry looked down at him, waiting for his decision. He did believe that the brothers needed to talk alone. After all, he wouldn’t stray far away from his mate and would come if something happened. The real concern was whether Thor's involvement would mend the already delicate situation or exacerbate it. Judging by Loki's expression, Harry doubted it would turn out positively.

Harry looked at him before sighing softly. “Don’t do that, you will invite trouble before it even here “ Harry said.

“Why not? He is obnoxious, and talking to him is like talking to a deaf person. No, sorry, that was an insult to deaf people. He is worse, like a big yellow dog that wags his tail, and barks at squirrels.” Loki grumbled

“And you are acting like a cat that got his fur ruffled." Harry snorted. “Just speak with him, he might surprise you,” Harry said, pulling Lokis’s hair away from his face, “we will probably need his help when we see the All-father. If we do. Because if that dickhead will not pull his head out of his arse, I will try to make the Ragnarök happen only to spite him.”

A genuine smile tugged on Loki’s lips. As he chuckled, “That bad?”

Harry nodded and waved his hand in the air. “That bad!” He echoed, “Because let me tell you this. My memories are still in a mess, but one thing that I know is that no one fucks with what’s mine.”

Harald’s part of his soul or not, if he were going to lose himself anyway, he could do his best to enjoy what chaos he could release on those who deserved it, like the people of Asgard. “So, talk to him. I have a feeling that he won't accept a no, not after finding you alive,” Harry said.

"When does he ever that big oaf," Loki muttered.

Harry looked at him and padded his arm. “You got this, and I will go and talk to our host. The sooner you get it done, the sooner we can find time to ourselves," Harry grinned. “And don’t kill each other.”

“No promises there," Loki sighed as he resigned to his fate.

Harry patted his shoulder, sensing that Thor was approaching, and began heading toward the elevator, grateful to JARVIS for the delay. As the door slid open, Thor emerged with long strides, grinning as he caught sight of Harry.

“Harry! Good morning. Did you already break the fast? I beg for forgiveness that I wasn’t here with you. But did you try these delicious sweet pastries they call Pop tarts? They were amazing!” Thor said in his booming voice.

“Good morning, Thor. I’m on my way out,” Harry said as he ducked around the more prominent male and smiled. “Loki is all yours”, he smiled.

“Good! That’s good.” Thor grinned as he turned around.

“Oh, And Thor?” Harry suddenly said, stopping the larger male who looked at him questionably now.

“Be gentle with him. He is still not completely stable. Don’t push him too much, all right?”

Thor’s grin faltered for a moment. "Don’t worry, my friend. I will not harm my brother, never again. You have my word," he promised, his voice a deep rumble as he placed his broad hand firmly over his chest, fingers splayed. His eyes locked with Harry's, intense and unwavering.

Harry recognized that look; he'd seen it countless times in the eyes of soldiers who had steeled themselves for battle during the war. It was a gaze filled with unwavering determination and an unshakeable confidence in their conviction. Harry gave a curt nod, his lips pressing into a thin line as he turned away. "Good, or else I will hunt you down and drag you to Helheim myself," he warned, his tone carrying a sharp edge.

"And I would accept whatever punishment you would give me," Thor replied, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he strode purposefully forward, ready to have a long-overdue conversation with his brother.

Chapter Text

Thor was fed up with being keept in the dark. Time and again, he attempted to get his brother to confide in him, to share his troubles, but to no avail.

Loki typically became more guarded, shutting himself off like a clam. He persistently secluded himself in his room or deftly sidestepped Thor's concerns with his eloquent speech. Loki didn't even allow Thor the opportunity to understand what was troubling him or to support him when he needed it.

Thor was well aware that he had made numerous mistakes in the past, and he could see why Loki was upset. This time, he had to acknowledge that Loki had every right to give him the cold shoulder. Thor realized that he embodied many of the flaws Loki pointed out: he was a clumsy, reckless fool, arrogant, and often rushed to judgment. He also recognized that he could be overly angry at times.

He was even worse with saying the right thing to the council or the elders, making an even greater fool of himself sometimes. Thor used to have his brother to help him with that, and Thor believed that Loki would always stay by his side through the good and bad times.

Thor was many things, but stupid wasn't one of those.

At a young age, he realized that Loki was being treated differently than him by everyone, even their parents. He had thought that it was because Loki had seiðr magic and that magic was still viewed as a weak trait by Asgardians. Despite the tales, he knows Asgard was not built on justice and peace. All that mattered to them was power and how well they could hold out in a fight.

Loki was not bad in a fight but was not one of their best. Thor admitted that he had teased him a lot about this in his youth. He was his brother! That is what brothers do. Even then, that doesn’t explain why Loki thought they didn’t love him. Thor had seen the love in their mother’s eyes as she looked upon her sons. He had seen how she treated them with the same respect and love, and neither favoring the other. Perhaps she had been a smidge more strict with Loki than she was with him, but magic in untrained hands was dangerous.

But their father...Thor bit back a growl that threatened to tear through his throat. Their father was an entirely different matter. At that time, Thor loved the attention he had gotten from their father. It had made him feel special, and he had blown up like a peacock in pride. He had basked in his father's praises all his life.

It would have been great if not, at the same time, Loki was pushed further into the shadows that grew all around him. Odin had always put him before Loki, and it was easier to see it now when Loki had pointed it out to him. Perhaps that was another of his flaws? He needed his brother to point out what he did wrong and did not see.

The All-father had done nothing to silence the rumors that spread at the court or even try to stop the hateful words about his brother. Despite this, Loki was always found alongside him in his many other battles and always came to his aid when needed it. They were loyal to one another as a family should be.

As a prince of Asgard, Loki was given the golden apple on his 1600th namesday and was named the second heir to the throne. The grand feast kept in Loki's honor was filled with laughter and good food in waiting for their quest to start. Thor would never forget the following quest of bravery that would forever change their life as they went into Bifrost gates to a realm filled with strong monsters.

It was a long, hard, brilliant battle between young fools and their prey. Everything had gone so well until Thor could no longer see Loki with them. He could still remember the fear and horror that had shot through him as he realized that Loki was gone. It had taken them a day and night to find Loki. When they did, Loki was delirious and on the edge of death. He had spoken of a black-haired beauty that had saved him from the hands of death and the need to find him.

He knew that if Harald hadn't found his brother that day. Loki would likely have ended up dead. That had been the first time Thor could have lost his brother. He had been so close to never having the chance to hear Loki's laughter, cursing, or stabbing… well, the stabbing he could live without.

Years passed, and he could see how Loki grew more distant then. He had become more cunning and ruthless than before. Some even would call him sharper. That was until the Yule ball. Thor had never seen his brother so happy as that Yule Day he had found his soulmate again. He remembered how good they looked on the dance floor and, later on, how Loki’s whole world shifted to fit around the younger male. It was like he had been replaced.

At that time, Thor had gone all out with his training. All the other warriors chicken out when he was in the mood for exercise. He could not help it that the only way he could get his anger out was through battle. The only ones who stood by him and held out were his most trusted shield brother -and sister.

They went to concurring worlds in his father’s name and actively avoided Loki and Harald for the longest of times. He never had a kind word for his brother’s mate. Looking back at the memory, it was an act out of youth, or what Loki told him, jealous. To have his brother’s attention elsewhere than on him had been a big eye-opening, and he had been a real dick about it.

It felt like his brother forgot that he had a family besides his mate. Even as they lived in the palace, Loki was never there anymore. Not until Thor was put into place by said young fae prince and gained his respect, probably around the same time as the whole losing Mjolnir and the wedding dress fiasco acured.

Thor found great joy and pleasure in the fact that he had been wrong. He was not going to lose a brother. Instead, he gained one. After that, he could truly see how happy Harald made Loki. Where Loki had been gloomy and irritated before, he was now content and had more playfulness in his eyes than before. Harald was good for Loki. That was until everything changed.

Harald's death left everyone in turmoil, as his final battle's location and the whereabouts of his body for burial remained a mystery. Loki's reaction was a storm of emotions, revealing that something terrible had occurred, but the depth of his feelings was hard to comprehend. As Loki descended into madness, Thor was torn between despair and determination, trying everything he could to help his brother, yet feeling increasingly helpless and frustrated with every attempt.

Thor started to question whether everything during that period had been futile. Even when his brother stood before him, Loki's eyes appeared dull and glazed. Reflecting on that time, Thor realized Loki had likely been struggling to maintain his grip on reality, as his mind frequently drifted. Anger seemed to consume him more deeply back then as if he was trying to suppress the chaos within his mind but failing a bit more each day without Harald.

Thor knew he could not change what had been done in the past, but he could do something about what was right in front of him. Right now, he could see the slight trembling of Loki's hand as he was trying to come off as indifferent, with a look of irritation covering the black-haired male's face. Thor could only stare at him, hating how the seconds dragged over to minutes before he even could find the courage to break the silence eating him up from within.

“Loki, please, I need you to speak with me,” Thor implored gently, gazing at his brother, who persistently turned his head. "I want to resolve the issues between us, but I can't do it by myself. I need your help, brother.” This finally caught Loki's attention, and he looked up to meet Thor's eyes.

Thor could see Loki’s pupils narrowed at him like two slits. It strangely enough reminded him of a grumpy Cat video that Lady Daisy had shown him as she introduced the strange world of webs.

“I have been giving you undue patience for eons. Only for me to be pushed aside and ignored, again, and again, and again,” Loki said low.” And now you have the guts to stand before me, demanding that I will talk to you?” Loki glared at Thor as his shoulders slumped and his head bowed.

A muscle twitched in Loki's cheek, and he felt the sour taste in his mouth only get worse. It was like he had been forced to drink acid as he stared at that once proud Aesir warrior who now bowed his head. How many times had he dreamed of seeing Thor in this situation? How many times had he wanted to push his brother so deep into the ground that the only thing visible was the dirt that would cover his blond hair? Even then, Loki would not be satisfied. There was a roar in his ears, and his vision felt mudded. All the years, all the memories of what he did, what they said...-

And a gentle warmth enveloped Loki's souk, causing him to softly gasp in surprise. For a brief moment, everything paused, allowing him to draw a deep breath. His lungs filled completely, tingling with a slight discomfort as they pushed air in and out. With another breath, he concentrated on the warmth within and sensed Harry's concern for him, along with curiosity and calmness.

Loki took another breath and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he felt more grounded than before. His thoughts were his own. So why? Why did this action hurt so much? Loki felt the irritation crawl beneath his skin that Thor would sink so low to bow to him.

"If there's nothing else, I wish you a good day and that you don't bother me anymore," Loki told him and turned around.

“No!” Thor almost shouted as he reached out to his brother. Loki instinctively flinched away from his movement.

Thor didn't need to be a genius to read the bursting magic in front of him, bottled up and almost bursting out in flickers of green and gold. At times like this, Thor wished he had more affinity with magic than he did.

"Please, Loki, give me a chance to speak my mind," Thor pleaded.

“Why should I?” Loki asked,

“Because I will not leave you alone before I do,” Thor said stubbornly.

Loki looked at him with disdain and frowned. He did not have the patience to have him hovering all around him all day long, begging like a dog. “Then speak, you witless oaf, don't waste my time.”

“I'm trying!” Thor blustered

“Then try harder! Or do you want me to force you? You do like to take the rougher path,” Loki sneered impatiently. He could feel the voices in his mind whispering, tearing at his thoughts.

"Enough of this, Loki"

“Enough?” Loki choked out, “Enough of what? Enough talking? But didn't you want to talk?” Loki rolled his eyes. “Why, Thor Odinson, can’t you make up your mind? But then again, perhaps you wanted me to stay dead? It would explain so much.” He turned around. “I have had enough of this. Get out of my way, or I’ll make you,” Loki threatened as he started to walk away.

" Loki, please stay,” Thor protested as he blocked his brother’s path again, "I need to talk to you. After what I went through to get to you last time...-"

“-shut up! “Loki interrupted him, angry as he slammed his finger into Thor’s chest. “This is not about you, for once in your life. You do not know what I've gone through, and I won't stand here letting you tell me how much it hurts YOU. You can't even begin to TRY and understand what I have been dragged through. “Loki barked, hitting his hand on Thor’s chest. ”YOU are the golden prince of Asgard! Everyone loves and adores you, and you know nothing of being unwanted. To be a burden and pushed down until you barely can stand, day after day". Loki's eyes were now shining poisonous green as he sneered at Thor, “Don’t you dare tell me what’s enough. You have no right to tell me that!”

“I mourned for you!” Thor bellowed as he griped Loki’s arm, keeping him in front of him. “It felt like I was going mad with grief, brother -no stop.” This time, Thor pointed his finger at Loki as he opened his mouth again to protest, only for the other male to snap it shut again. “You will let me speak my mind this time, Loki. No, running away, and do not put any words in my mouth that I haven’t talked. Let me continue because I never have a chance to outwit you in a battle of words- “At this, Loki scoffed as he batted away Thor's hand and took a step back.

“You will not stop me, not now, when I finally have a chance to speak,” Thor hurried to say, as he did not want to lose this chance to speak his mind. “You are my brother. Yes, you have done a lot of hurtful things. Yes, you are a pain in everyone's ass, but at least you were there, brother. I know that I failed you after Harald’s death. I know it, and when I thought I had lost you,” Thor’s voice cracked.

“I know now that I need to hear your advice on how to rule our realm. I need you to keep me on the right track and your presence to make me a better person." Thor stared at him as he spoke, not wanting to give the other one a chance to escape. "I need you, Brother. I'm sorry that I haven't been the big brother you deserved and didn’t notice that something was wrong. I know I still have much to learn, so please let me try to make up for my wrongdoings.”

The silence around them was thick as Loki could only stay silent and stared at Thor like he couldn't grasp what came out of his mouth. Did he want him by his side? No, no, he could never... He was not even allowed to think he had a chance to stand beside the golden prince. He wasn't even his real brother.

"Well, that would be one of the problems, I presume," Loki sighed after another second of dreaded silence. A cold grin appeared on his lips, and Thor hated that look that haunted Loki's eyes as he tried to put on a façade. “We're not as related as we once thought.”

“What?” Thor frowned.

"We don't even have the same parents," Loki taunted with an air of indifference, trying to hold himself together. Just for a few moments before he got rid of Thor, Loki might have convinced himself that he didn't care. But his hands betrayed him, trembling despite his efforts to keep them steady behind his back. He averted his gaze from Thor, feeling the intensity of Thor's piercing blue eyes.

As the silence stretched on, Loki's anxiety grew, and time seemed to crawl by painfully. However, when Thor finally spoke, Loki was at a loss for how to react to the nonsense that spilled from his mouth.

“Yes, I know. I don’t see how those matters?”

Loki’s head snapped up, and he looked at Thor, who frowned. Loki opened his mouth to speak, but his brain had stopped working momentarily. “You knew? You have known all this time?”

“Yes?” Thor’s frown deepened

“What do you mean yes?! you knew?” Loki tries to think back on when that precise information was leaked. Or was he the only one that wasn’t told?

“Mother told me after you fell,” Thor answered and looked worriedly at his brother as he started to look paler than before.”Loki, are you okay?”

“She did what?” Loki's voice flew up a few pinches as he turned around and dragged his hand through his hair. What? How? No…that…it… But why? All the questions flew around in Loki’s mind, and he had no idea what he should think or even feel, for that matter. He had so many thoughts in the last few minutes, so many words, that he thought he would burst into flames—frost giant or not.

“Mother told me they adopted you, and you are of the jotun race. But that doesn’t change anything. You still are my brother, and we grew up together. “Thor said and smirked, finally realizing that he had probably shocked Loki into speechlessness.

Loki stared at him. What? No… This… this was not what he had planned when he told him that, all this time, he had known. Then why? What is the name of Yggdrasil that made the buffoon even think that he still had the right… to call him brother when they were not?!

“I had to admit. When she first told me, I thought she would say that I was the adopted one.”

Loki’s mind stopped working as he stared at his brother. All right, now he was sure he was truly and completely broken. This… this took the price. Loki put a hand on his head. Thor had thought that HE was the adopted one.

“What? Are you… what?” Loki burst out in disbelief. "How on earth did you come to that conclusion?” Before Thor could respond, Loki raised a hand to stop him. “ Wait, Don’t even answer. I can't deal with your stupidity right now." Before Thor could respond, Loki raised a hand to stop him. "How could you even think such a thing? Especially when... when... I'm the adopted one, Thor!" Loki grumbled, exasperated, as he glared at Thor, who was now irritatingly grinning.

Thor shrugged while scratching his cheek. “I always thought you were more like our parents than me. You have our mother’s gift for magic and vast craving for knowledge, our father’s wisdom and sense of justice. Me? Well, I’m good with my hammer.”

Loki stared at him. Was Thor complimenting him? No, this could not be real. Loki put his hand over his face, trying to hinder the aching pain drumming inside his scull that threatened to come forward.

“Mother once said in my youth that I probably was a changeling, so it would not be too farfetched if it had been true.” Thor shrugged as if it was nothing.

Loki emitted a sound resembling a strangled cat as he almost choked on his saliva. His eyes were fixed in disbelief, and despite his efforts to hold it back, a burst of laughter escaped his lips. He was torn; while he couldn't contain his amusement, part of him was bewildered. Of all the scenarios he had envisioned unfolding, this was the last thing he had expected.

"Never change that part of your stupidity," Loki said as he calmed down from his laughter.

"Loki..." Thor said in a low voice.

Loki shook his head as he felt the fight leave him, and he felt like he had aged eons in mere seconds. “No, don't. Can’t you see? I was never accepted because of what I am, not only because I was a male of the 'Asgardian'' race. “He did the air quote, “But I choose magic as my main weapon, which in their eyes was a sign of weakness. A craft that only women would practice because it was signed as a weakness in battle, not that women were weaker than others,” he chuckled humorlessly.

"It doesn't matter to me, Loki," Thor commented. "I have always envied both you and Harald's affinity with magic, how easy you both made it seem. You were the closest to our mother because of that, and I did try, as you know, but as soon as I got Mjolnir, I quit trying. But I never resented you any less because of that. It doesn’t matter to me if you have magic or not, and you are still you. “

"It matters to me! Even when I was at my lowest, "Loki's voice was barely a whisper now. "Even when Thanos was torturing me out of my mind, and I gave in to his insane demands, begging him to stop it all, I still could feel my magic running through my veins. Not even he could take that away from me. But the feeling of being caged...the shackles in my mind… the fact that I am... It changes everything...." Loki suddenly looked so small where he stood, hunched down on himself. “It changes everything.”

"No, it doesn't," Thor answered as he took a careful step forward, words softer than Loki had ever heard him speak them. “Mother still loves you. Father worries about you, and you are still my brother, by blood or not. We grew up together, fought, cried, and went on glorious adventures together, and this will not change it.”

"But I'm a frost giant, a monster!" The words were out for Loki before he could stop it. He had to make the blond one see that he was a monster that did not deserve love. He was a killer by blood and action, and nothing would change that.

“You are still my brother. "Thor stated firmly, "Frost giant or Asgardian doesn't matter. Blood doesn't make a family, but our bond does,” Thor said again, hitting his chest. "And to me, you are my brother, and nothing you say will change how I see you. So, accept that this is not something I will ever change because you are trying to prove a point."

Loki stared at him before he sighed and shook his head. How could it come to this? How could he even think of giving Thor a chance? It was probably only because he was too tired and mentally exhausted that he considered the thought. That's it, nothing else.

"You always were one for dramatics," Loki said as his shoulder dropped in defeat.

“A compliment from you? I'm not worthy!” Thor teased with a relieved smile, his body visibly relaxing at Loki's words of his version of acceptance. It was a minor but a step in the right direction.

"Do shut up." Loki rolled his eyes, and if it was more fondly, well, there was no witness.

. ⬝ : * ¨¨ *: ⬝ . 💓 . ⬝ : * ¨¨ *: ⬝ .

Turning his back on Loki left Harry with an uneasy feeling as if something cold and sticky was lodged in his chest—a knot of regret. Unable to resist, he glanced back one last time, just to confirm that Loki was safe with his brother, nothing more.

Of course, Harry suspected that it had everything to do with Harald's side of his soul. Like a black dot that was squirming inside him, black and slippery as oil. He couldn't help feeling it was one of the remaining problems. Harry has already accepted that he was once Harald.

On the other hand, he has difficulty accepting the changes that have taken place within him in connection with his inheritance. Everything has gone so fast, and he no longer knows who he is. His love for Loki was so powerful that it scared him, yet he couldn't even imagine being without it.

Harry knew that he had many scars from the war, both physically and mentally. Accepting death at that time had been so easy. He knew that it had been something that had to happen to get rid of the Horcrux that was embedded in his scare.

Harry could feel their connection pulsing in his chest, the warm, tingling sensation that he had come to associate with Loki. He paused before the elevator door and took a deep breath, gazing over it. How did the muggles do when they were going to take the elevator? He could honestly admit that the times he had entered an elevator were limited to the magical part of his life. Not the mundane part. If he was not wrong, there should have been a button to push, but there was nothing around the door to press.

Harry tentatively reached out a hand, fingers hovering over the area where he thought the button should be. He hesitated, feeling utterly foolish as he realized that there was probably no magic involved in this mundane muggle device. With a scowl, he pressed his hand against the door, willing it to open. When nothing happened, he grudgingly pulled back his hand and looked around for some sort of clue.

Unfortunately, there didn't seem to be any stairs on this side of the apartment or another door out here, which gave him little to no choice.

He stared at the metallic door for a few seconds more, trying to figure out what to do. Harry shrugged as he knocked on the metallic door. It was worth a try.

“Mr. Potter, I will have to remind you that you are not allowed to leave this floor without an escort at this moment.”

Harry blinked owlishly up at the ceiling, surprised that the knocking had worked.

"I know," Harry cleared his throat, “but I need to speak with your master and Dr. Banner if he is still in the building?" he asked with a wry smile.

“I will repeat myself. You are not allowed to go anywhere inside the tower without supervision, Mr. Potter”, the voice repeated monology.

“But I would not be without supervision. You would see me everywhere, right? Then you could supervise me until I’m where they are, can you not?” Harry asked the ceiling with a smile. “Then there would be no problem?”

“I’m not entirely sure I would qualify as a supervisor.”

“Then can you perhaps ask someone if you are qualified enough, Mr. Javis?” Harry pressed on

The voice was silent for a minute, and Harry shifted his weight from one foot to another. Was that it? Would the muggles change their mind and treat them like prisoners of war because he made a stupid request? Harry was well aware that they were being treated surprisingly well. From the muggle’s point of view, Loki was an enemy. Controlled or not, he had invited an army of destruction on their planet.

“Sir has given you permission to come to his lab, where both he and Dr. Banner are at the moment.” The AI suddenly responded. “And sire would like to tell you, ‘Neat move’ “

“I do live to exceed others' expectations of me” Harry grinned at the ceiling as the elevator door opened before him and went in with a soft. “Thank you for asking him.”

“You mostly welcome Mr. Potter.”

When the door opened, Harry didn't know what he had expected. A large spacious elevator that could surely fit at least ten people with a full glass wall wasn't even on his mind. On both short sides, the walls were covered in mirrors, while the long side faced the inside of the building.

Harry looked down through the glass, and it wasn't as far down as he thought. He could see many people milling around and sitting at different tables. Perhaps it was a food center for all the workers?

He turned around to press the button to close the door. Only to find out that there were no buttons on the wall. The doors closed behind him and slowly began moving upwards at a comfortable pace. For a muggle, Mr. Stark was something out of the ordinary.

“If I'm not too rude to ask, how do you work? I've been in houses that are semi-sentient but never in one that can respond or think as you can,” Harry asked the AI butler, curious as he turned around, glass wall against his back.

“Yes, You may. Sir has programmed my AI to respond to voice commands and interact with his other inventions within the tower. However, I am not sentient and do not possess emotions or consciousness like living beings,” the AI explained in its monotonous tone.

Harry nodded, taking in the information. He had heard of muggle technology that could respond to voice commands, but he had never seen it in action before. Hermione would have been thrilled by this. How could a person conjure such a personality from thin air? Even wizards needed to start with something to make something new.

Was the Wizard community truly so isolated from reality that they overlooked this advancement? This realization stirred another uncomfortable sensation within Harry. The wizard world had overlooked so much of the technological progress happening beyond their secure enclave. What other things had they missed?

The elevator came to a stop, and the doors opened to reveal a large room filled with various machines and gadgets. It was like something out of a sci-fi movie, and Harry couldn't help but feel impressed.

“Wow,” Harry muttered under his breath as he stepped out of the elevator.

” We are here now, Mr. Potter. Follow the glass corridor, and you will see Sir's lab on the right.” He could feel the temperature changes around him as he followed the AI instruction, and every door he had to walk through opened automatically before he could even reach out to it.

He came across a large glass door that also opened before him, and the noise in the Lab, which before had been muted, now assaulted Harry’s senses. Right in front of him was Dr. Banner with his back against him and a huge floating screen right in front of him as he flopped through the different channels that all showed the same thing.

Switch

“Despite the devastation on what has been confirmed to be an extraterrestrial, The extradentary heroics of the group, Avengers have many- “

Switch

“Superheroes in New York? Give me a break…”

Switch

“Good morning, I’m Will Stevenson, and I’m here from News Today to bring you up on the latest news after what the public now calls Invasion. The NYPD has now confirmed that there is an ongoing investigation going on about what happened and-“

Switch

“Dosen victims have been drugged up from the rubble that was once an apartment here at 9th Avenue. The surveillant video you are now looking at shows you when Aliens came crashing down on the building before-”

Switch

“And then the Angel swooped down to save me,” The little boy said as he grinned into the camera, flaring his arms around in wide motions. “He saved my life. Thank you, Mr. Angel! “

“Can you turn off the TV, Javis?” Dr Baner told the AI and the monitor turned off. “Thank you,” he said as the TV retrieved into the ceiling.

Harry felt some relief that the boy he had helped was safe. But surely there were so many more who didn't make it. If he had acted sooner, could he have saved more? He acted selfishly. His desire to reunite with Loki had been such a strong driving force, and he couldn't help but blame Harald's side of their soul. At the same time, he knew they were just bad excuses. He should have done more; he should have done better.

There was nothing that said he couldn't accomplish both. Harry's gaze returned to the only man in the lab, who was now sighing heavily and looked more troubled than before.

"I hope I'm not disturbing," Harry said, making his presence known as he walked towards him.

Bruce looked up at Harry, surprised to no longer be alone "No, you don't bother. What can I help you with, Mr. Potter?"

Harry paused for a moment, sensing a subtle tension, and awkwardly scratched his cheek. "Not really help me with anything more than that I just wanted to speak with you, if you’re not busy?" he asked, his words trailing off as more of a question than a declaration. It was clear that the other man wasn’t thrilled with his sudden appearance. Who could blame him? Harry had essentially teleported them without any explanation beyond calling it 'magic' and then disappeared, leaving him stranded in a war zone.

Bruce seemed to relax a bit, his shoulders slumped slightly. "I apologize, my nerves are still on edge, and it feels like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop at any moment now."

Harry's eyes widened in surprise upon hearing the apology. "What? No, you don't have to say sorry," he said, lightly scratching the back of his neck and averting his gaze. "I admit I was being a bit impulsive, and overly enthusiastic about the whole situation," he added. Loki had been so near, and Harry haden’t been able to resist the urge to see him as soon as he could.

Bruce gave him a peculiar glance and shook his head a bit. "Alright, we could spend the whole day saying sorry, so let's just agree to move on, alright?"

Harry laughed quietly and nodded. "Alright, I'll go along with you for now. But I still owe you one."

Bruce nodded. "Alright, but then we can make use of it immediately."

"huh?" Harry raised an eyebrow. "Whatever it is you're going to ask. I'm sure you won't need to use it for that. So doctor, tell me what it is?" he was pretty sure that whatever it was as Banner wanted it had to do with how they met.

Bruce stared down at his hands and didn't answer right away but seemed to be choosing his next words with care. He opened his mouth but then closed it again with a groan. "How do I put this without sounding crazy?" he muttered in frustration.

Harry hummed softly. "I usually go back to the heart of the matter. It’s easier to take it from there and not go around it."

"Okay, you're right" Bruce took a deep breath and looked up at Harry, brown eyes meeting viridian green ones. "Was there a woman with us when we first met?"

Bingo. Harry inspected the other man before nodding. "Yes" he replied

Bruce bit his lip. "But she's not with us now.. so…"

"Just ask the question," Harry said

"Did Hulk kill her?"

There it was, Harry looked at the older man in front of him. He could see how his skin was pale and glossy with a thin layer of sweat. There was even a hint of green underneath his skin, and Harry sighed.

"yes, he did," he noted the impact his words had on the other person. "But it's not a negative thing," Harry added hastily. "Even though I wish I had been the one to kill her, I'm truly thankful to the Hulk for doing it as swiftly as he did," Harry said in a deep, low voice, locking eyes with Bruce.

Harry's words hung in the air for a moment, causing Bruce to blink and furrow his brow in confusion. "I don't understand, why would you be thankful for her death?" he asked, his voice low and hesitant.

Harry took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. "It's complicated," he said, trying to find the right words. "She was an enemy, someone who had caused a lot of harm and destruction. And she was planning to do even more damage. Her death meant that she could no longer carry out her plans and hurt innocent people," Harry explained, trying to keep his emotions in check.

"But still, killing someone...even if they were an enemy...that doesn't sit right with me," Bruce said softly, looking down at his hands again.

"I understand that," Harry said sympathetically. "But sometimes there is no other choice. Sometimes it's kill or be killed."

Bruce let out a heavy sigh and leaned back in his chair. "I guess I will never truly understand the way things work in your world."

"It takes some getting used to," Harry admitted with a small smile. "I'm still impressed how the Hulk could take out a Ljósálfar with one blow."

"A Ljósálfar? She was from Alfheim?" Bruce's eyes widened

"Yes, she was. Are you familiar with Norse mythology?" Harry inquired with curiosity. Before his memories started blending with Harald's, he could hardly name any gods and realms, and the few he knew could be counted on one hand. Now, however, he had a much richer understanding than before, one that Hermione would undoubtedly label as cheating. He preferred to think of it as having new resources.

"Some, I'm not that deep into it, but I know about the nine kingdoms and some of the history surrounding the main one" Bruce admitted. "I used to love reading about it when I was a kid, but back then, it was just that, fairy tales."

Harry nodded in understanding. "Well, I can assure you that they are very real and not exactly what the stories portray them to be," he said cryptically.

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Well, for one, they're not all good or evil. Just like humans, they have their own agendas and motivations. And some of them are quite dangerous," Harry explained.

Bruce's eyes widened in realization. "You mean...there are other gods and beings out there who could pose a threat?"

"Absolutely," Harry confirmed. "But there are also those who can be allies and friends."

"I see..." Bruce trailed off, deep in thought. He had always known that there were other powerful beings out there, but to actually meet them and see the destruction they were capable of was still mind-boggling.

Bruce's eyes drifted downward, his voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and caution. "You know, Harry, it's funny. When you're a kid, you hear these stories and think they're just tales to entertain. But then you grow up, and reality hits you like a ton of bricks. For me, it was the gamma radiation, the accident... the Hulk." He paused, his hands flexing as if anticipating the transformation he dreaded.

"Yes, and for me it's this—magic, gods, soul bonds. It's a whole different kind of reality." Harry nodded, his gaze still on the ceiling, though his mind was elsewhere. "I never thought I'd be having this conversation, to be honest. But here we are, bridging worlds neither of us fully understood just a short time ago."

The air seemed to thicken, and Harry felt a familiar tug at his soul. Loki's presence grew stronger, a mix of unease and agitation and Harry’s impulsive sent a wave of calm through their bond. In response, he felt a flicker of gratitude, though it was tinged with something sharper—guilt, perhaps, or fear.

It was odd for him to be physically far from someone else, yet still experience everything so vividly. Through Harald's memories, he had learned so much, but feeling it for the first time was different. Harald's memories and phantom sensations were one thing, but this was Harry's own initial experience. A noise from the adjacent room caught Harry's attention, and his eyes darted to the door, which swung open as Tony emerged.

“What’s up, Tiny bits?” Tony asked as he wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, leaving oil in its track. "Tired of your boy toy already?"

Harry chuckled. "Yeah, right. Thor and he are having a well-needed family discussion and sorting some stuff out, so I figured it was best to give them space. Plus, I wanted to have a chat with Mr. Banner," he explained, gesturing towards the other man.

"How did the simulation turn out?" Bruce inquired. “any progress?”

“Negative greenie” Tony replied. “You should have seen it! It was fantastic. It blew up like fireworks on New Year’s Eve”

“Am I allowed to know what you are doing?” Harry asked, “Or should I go?”

“Nah, you can stay, we are trying to fix the device Dr. Selvig used to open the portal. It broke when they closed the portal” Tony waved his hand in the air and wrote down some of his notes.

Harry nodded slowly “If I may ask, why are you in need of fixing the portal device that was going to bring aliens to Earth??” It worked just fine to bring them here, but then again, they probably needed to close it somehow.

Tony shrugged as he looked over the blueprints that were now floating in the air before him. Harry tried to read it but it was literary another languishes. “To send you guys home?”

“But you don’t need the device for that? Do you?” Harry asked curiously, “Why don’t we activate the cube? “

“If you do not want to be blown into pieces, that damn thing is an energy source without any compare, even my creation is bleak against what kind of energy that thing gives off” Tony snorted.

“But the stone is in the form of the Tesseract now, is it not? It should not be in its raw form?”

Tony stilled as he looked up and stared at Harry “It still gives out a ton of fucking unknown radiation, and is a portal-making stone. I will not take any chances to open it up into a new armada, thank you very much”

Harry looked at the other male who was now staring him down at him with a hard expression. It felt like he had missed something of importance here but nodded even if the other one hadn’t asked for any response from him. There was something in the older man’s eyes that Harry could not put his finger on what it was.

Tony’s hard expression softened slightly as he returned to tinkering with the device, though his mind was racing. “Just to be safe, we need a more controlled environment if we’re ever going to stabilize it. This thing is a ticking time bomb. Even if we wanted to use it to send you home, it’s not reliable. I’m not about to risk it detonating and leveling half the city.” He muttered under his breath, half to himself and half to Harry. “Assuming it doesn’t open another portal and let in God-knows-what. The Chitauri were just the beginning, trust me.”

Harry stepped closer, his eyes fixed on the blueprints floating in the air, though they still made no sense to him. He could feel the weight of Tony’s concern, though the older man was doing a poor job of hiding it behind his usual bravado. There was something unspoken lingering between them, something Harry couldn’t quite grasp.

“I see,” Harry said softly, his mind drifting. The mention of the Tesseract reminded him of the faint, inexplicable chill he sometimes felt in his chest—like a distant echo of ice. He hadn’t thought much of it before, chalking it up to the remnants of the soul bond he shared with Loki. But now, as he stood in Tony’s lab, staring at the blueprints and listening to the physicist’s worries, the connection felt clearer.

“You don’t think Loki had anything to do with this, do you?” Harry asked, the thought spilling out before he could stop it. His eyes narrowed, a shiver running down his spine. He hadn’t mentioned the bond to anyone—not even Bruce—because it was private, intimate. But the way the Tesseract pulsed with energy made him think of Loki’s icy magic, the way it crackled like winter itself.

Tony’s head snapped up, his eyes sharp and narrowing. “Loki? Why would you think that?” he asked, his voice guarded, almost too cautious.

Harry shrugged, feeling a mix of unease and curiosity. “I don’t know. It’s just… he’s always been connected to things like this. The cold, the portals, the—”

He stopped himself before he could say more before he could admit aloud the truth he hadn’t fully processed yet. That Loki’s Jotun heritage wasn’t just about frost and trickery—it was about a deeper power, one tied to the very essence of Yggdrasil and the realms it connected.

Tony studied him for a moment, his expression unreadable. “Well, if he does know something,” he finally said, turning back to the blueprints, “I’ll make sure to ask him myself.”

The silence that followed was heavy, punctuated only by the faint hum of the lab’s machinery. Harry stood there for a moment, his thoughts spiraling. There was something he was missing, something he couldn’t quite see but could feel like a storm on the horizon. And for the first time since he’d arrived in this strange, new world, he felt a pang of fear—fear for Loki, for Thor, for all of them.

But he said nothing, simply nodded, and stepped back, letting Tony’s words hang in the air like a promise he knew neither of them could keep.

"Alright!” Tony clapped his hands, successfully breaking the stiffness around them. “Now that you're here let me pick your brain, alright? You, my dear Fairy, are an enigma that appears like the man in the box “Tony said as he raised his arm and started to write on the small keyboard in front of him, bringing up a few documents in the Air.

“I took the liberty to look you up, and to my surprise, I came to a stop after your eleventh birthday. You more or less went up in smoke. There is hardly anything about Harry Potter in any papers, no doctor's visits, no school records, or late payments. No vaccination papers, or records, not even a valid ID card. " Tony looked at Harry through the transparent screen.

Harry's eyes lingered on the holographic images, the faint glow of the screens casting an ethereal light on his face. Tony's words hung in the air, a mix of curiosity and challenge. "You still found quite a lot," Harry murmured, his voice tinged with a blend of admiration and wariness. He reached out, his fingers brushing against the hologram of the Dursleys, the image flickering slightly under his touch.

“Well?” Tony asked impatiently

“Well, what?” Harry asked

Tony stared at him like he had grown a second head. “Go ahead and tell me why there is no trace of you after your eleventh birthday. “

Harry snorted. “And why should I tell you that?”

“Because I asked you?” Tony replied slowly like he thought it would make Harry understand better.

Harry stared at Tony, his eyes narrowing with disbelief. "Let me get this straight," he scoffed, crossing his arms defiantly over his chest and leaning back with an incredulous smirk. "You expect me to unload my entire life story just because you asked? Who in their right mind would spill their guts to a stranger?"

“Damn, I thought it would work” Tony snapped his fingers. “Well, it was worth a shot, I will get you to speak.”

Harry looked at him and then over to Bruce, who only shrugged. “He is rather good at finding information when he wants to” the other male replied helpfully. That was not something Harry doubted.

"So why aren’t you with the other immortal gods? Doing godly things? Not that I'm complaining that you want to hang out with us mortals. Just curious," Tony said as he waved his hand in the air.

"They are not immortal" Harry blinked as he returned to the present.

"What are you talking about?" Tony asked, "They are freaking gods? Are they not? " He honestly looked almost choked as he asked that.

Harry shook his head " It is hard to explain. But they are not Gods like you believe them to be. You can't kill a true God a deity, Asgardians can be killed, even if it is hard to do that, and they bleed."

Tony blinked "Huh,” he said and wrote something down before him” That makes sense, but they are recorded as gods in our history. I mean, Thor, the God of thunder? Loki, God of lies?”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “God is like a title for them?”

Tony snorted. “Yeah, And I’m the god of sarcasm and good looks. If they are not gods in that meaning, what are they?"

"They are from Asgard, so Asier?" Harry answered with a straight face

Tony's mouth opened and closed a few times before he groaned, " Well played, Merlin. If you don't tell me, I will find out for myself. I can't miss how you said them, and not you."

Harry shrugged with a slight grin on his lips " I’m… something else?"

"Wh... Brucy! Are you hearing this?" Tony exclaimed, spinning around to face Bruce with astonished eyes. "He's challenging me! Me! Is he okay? Maybe you should examine him for a concussion?"

"I’m not that kind of doctor, and you know that, and I don't think that was meant as a challenge,” Bruce said, looking over at Harry, who only shrugged.

"Let him try. I will tell him if he can find out who and what I am."

If Tony's eyes would shine, they would " Javis, start digging, begin with Harry Potter, and make a side project on ‘fake gods’. So, Mr. Fairy, where are you hiding your wings? " Tony asked as he walked around Harry’s desk and, without warning, poked him with a screwdriver between his shoulder blades.

Harry instinctively growled, a shiver of fear coursing through him. Reacting on impulse, he swung his arm, batting away the object that had jabbed him. In doing so, his hand unleashed a burst of magic that short-circuited the nearest computer.

“Tony!” Bruce shouted at the same time Harry swore "Bloody hell! What is your fucking problem, man!?"

“What?

“Don’t poke anyone with a sharp object, I was alright with it because I can handle it” Bruce groaned.

“What? And do you think fairy dust here can’t? Hm, scratch that. He clearly could not. But I’m a man child – Pepper says so- and I need to poke things to learn how it works.”

“It is not nice, and it can be dangerous,” Bruce said

“Not the point! He destroyed my computer, all my precious data! So many hours I have worked on it,” Tony said dramatically.

“Don’t worry, sire, I have made a backup copy of everything. You did not lose anything.”

“Huss Javis! I’m trying to make him feel in debt to me.”

“Very well, sir, continue one then.”

“All that sass, J. Where did you get that from?”

“I don’t know Sire, perhaps from you?”

“Touché” Tony waved his hand dismisses in the air,

Harry's cheeks flushed as he muttered under his breath, "Sorry, didn't mean to..." but Tony cut him off with a grin.

"Hey, no need to apologize, kid. It's not every day I get to see someone short-circuit my tech with a flick of their wrist. You've got a knack for the dramatics," Tony said, clearly enjoying the situation.

" It’s all water under the bridge anyway,” he said nonchalantly “But tell me, birdy, why did you kill a billion worth of technology? What had that poor thing done to you!?"

Harry glared at him, suppressing the urge to growl in anger once more. ”Do all muggles tend to stab people?” Harry asked Bruce, ignoring Tony as he rolled his eyes.

Bruce grimaced. "No, they typically don't, but this one's an exception."

"Alright, then. How about this: if you answer three questions for me, like my own personal genie, we're good. Deal?" Tony asked

Harry rubbed his face, resisting the urge to unfurl and ruffle his wings in frustration. His muscles were too tired for that, and the space was too confined. He wouldn't put it past the other male to hope for such a reaction.

Harry did feel somewhat guilty for breaking another item that belonged to the man. But did he even have that amount of money? He should probably inquire with the goblins the next time he visits Gringotts.

“Maybe...” said Harry thoughtfully. “But… I do think I can pay for it if you give me a day or two.”

“Oh, come on! “Tony’s face falls as he suddenly whines in protest.

Harry sighed as he gave in to his bad conscience, even if it was completely the other man’s fault to begin with. What could three questions do? “Fine,” Tony whooped.

“But! “Harry added quickly as he saw the other man rubbing his hands together. “There are some things I can’t tell you, not without knowing that it is safe to do, and if one of your questions is about that, I will reserve the right not to answer it, deal? “

“Deal,” Tony said and grinned wide, and Harry suddenly felt like he had sold a part of his soul to the devil.

“I’m sorry to interrupt you Sire, but there is a matter of importance as I believe that Mr. Potter’s friends are in the lobby and want here to see him”

The interruption couldn't have come at a more opportune moment. Harry felt a wave of relief wash over him as he stood, smoothing out his clothes with a tired sigh. "I think this is a good time for a break," he said, offering Tony a polite smile.

Tony scowled, clearly annoyed at having his fun interrupted. "Can't this wait? I've only just begun my interrogation," he protested, crossing his arms. “How do we even know they are who they say they are?”

Harry snorted,” I probably know them,” he said

“Huh?”

Harry nodded “Yeah, because only two people in the world know I'm in New York and would be clever enough to track me down here."

Chapter Text

Ron's mouth gaped open, his mind reeling as he tried to process what she had just said. He shook his head as if the physical movement might somehow rearrange her words into something that made more sense. “What?!”

“You heard me.”

“Yeah, and that’s the issue” Ron ran a hand through his hair “ I thought I heard you say you wanted to approach the muggle and ask them to see Harry.”

Hermione's eyes rolled as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Wow, I'm amazed your ears work, that was exactly what I said" she deadpanned

“Hermione!”

“And it’s mundane, or Non-maj Ronald, not muggle. We're in America now, so do try to keep up,” she snapped at him before turning on her heel and striding away, leaving a bewildered Ron in her wake.

Ron's eyes followed her as she stormed off, her hair whipping around her face in a sign of suppressed anger as her magic leaked out from her. “You’re still upset from earlier, aren’t you? I said I was sorry!”

Hermione turned sharply, raising a finger in the air. “That’s not the issue here! I asked you to trust me and stay calm, and what do you do? You nearly cause the plane's engines to blow up! And to top it off, that idiot decided to… ugh!” She stormed off in frustration.

“I said I was sorry,” Ron groaned as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “But I still don’t think we should involve anyone mu…ndane in this. Think about the state of secrecy!”

“Oh, come on, Ron, just look around!” Hermione waved her arms at the chaos surrounding them. “Do you honestly think Harry wouldn’t be mixed up in all of this?”

"Well..."

"No, don't answer that. It was just a rhetorical question," she growled out.

Hermione walks towards the towering structure, its immense size becoming more and more apparent. Ron cranes his neck to look up, feeling a wave of dizziness wash over him at the sheer height of the building. It seems to stretch infinitely into the sky, making even Hogwarts Castle seem small in comparison.

"And the MACUSA would probably just roll their eyes and pass off the issue to someone else, as all the damn politicians are doing these days," she grumbles, stomping away from her red-haired boyfriend. He can't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for his brother; Harry must really have angered her this time. But then again, he probably had it coming.

The automatic doors of the building were still functional, and miraculously opened for them. Ron stood in awe of the massive glass structure inside, marveling at the ingenuity of muggles. He wasn't too happy with how Harry had handled the Patronus message, but he knew it was better to keep a low profile if he wanted to avoid Hermione's anger aimed tower him.

While he thought she might be taking things a bit too far this time, she was too damn moody, Ron had absorbed a few crucial lessons from his school days. One was to never challenge an angry Hermione; it rarely ended favorably. The other was that she was usually right, no matter how it appeared. He hoped Hermione knew what she was doing.

"Wow," Ron whispered in awe as he stepped into the massive structure; the towering glass walls soared above him, and sleek, modern lights dangled from the ceiling. Through the windows, he observed people moving purposefully, their voices rising in a flurry of commands.

Despite the chaos that had just unfolded, with signs of a recent explosion, the crowd appeared remarkably composed and orderly. Muggles were truly peculiar.

"Hurry up, Ron!" Hermione called out, waving him over. Ron paused for a moment, then stepped closer to her, peering at the dark screen with a puzzled expression. Was there something significant about it?

"If you wouldn't mind, Mr. Javis, could you please reach out to Mr. Stark? We would appreciate it."

"Uh…" Ron furrowed his brow, confusion etched on his face. "Herms, why do we need to contact this Mr. Stark? What's going on?" He glanced around the sleek, modern lobby, the contrast between the magical world they knew and this high-tech environment making him uneasy.

“I’ve let Mr. Stark know you’re on your way. Just take the lift to your right, and I’ll guide you to your destination.”

Ron glanced around, puzzled by the voice that came serenely out of nowhere. "Huh?"

"That’s perfect, Mr. Javis. Thank you for your help, and understanding."

"It’s my pleasure, Miss Granger,."

"Huh?!" Ron stared at the dark screen, struggling to grasp the situation as Hermione took his hand and led him forward tower the elevator.

"What in Merlin’s name was that? Where did that voice come from? Who is Stark? Is Harry here?"

"Oh, stop it." Hermione clicked her tongue and dragged him into the elevator. "I'll explain it all later."

"Why not just explain it to me now?" Ron protested, his eyes wide with confusion. "How could that muggle be trapped in that little glass jar? Is he a spirit?" The thought made him shiver; he had had enough of ghosts back at Hogwarts.

"I'm not a spirit, I’m an intelligent program created by Mr. Stark to assist him in his daily activities." Ron flinched at the voice coming from the ceiling.

"Oh hell no!" Ron exclaimed as they stepped out of the elevator and into a long, sleek hallway. "A haunted building? I did not sign up for this."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's not haunted, Ron. Mr JARVIS is an artificial intelligence program, not a spirit."

"A what now?" Ron asked, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"It's like a magical portrait, but for muggles," Hermione explained patiently. "It can think and communicate on its own."

"Right," Ron said slowly, still skeptical as the elevator door opened and they walked out.

"Please wait in here and I'll tell Mr. Potter where to find you," said Jarvis, now from the corridor ceiling as he automatically opened a door to a conference room.

"Thank you very much," Hermione replied, ignoring Ron's grumbling as she pulled him into the empty room.

They didn't have to wait long before footsteps were heard outside and the door opened with a soft click. When the door opened, Hermione immediately spotted Harry in the front. She straightened up, arms crossed, and wore a stern expression. Her gaze met Harry's, then shifted to the muggles behind him, before returning to him.

Harry smiled at the gesture and nodded. "They know."

That was enough for Hermione, whose eyes narrowed as she addressed him. "Harry. James. Potter," she began in a cold, sharp tone that stopped Harry in his tracks."Vacation?"

Harry’s eyes widened as she spat out that word with disdain, her hair flaring around her hair, she now completely ignored the other muggles around the room.

"Vacation?" Hermione repeated, drawing out each word deliberately. "Who do you think you are, you bloody wanker?" She approached him slowly, and Harry gulped nervously.

"Eh.."

“No!” she snarled as she held up a finger, making Harry’s mouth shut with an audible klick. “ Not only that, you abandoned our regular plan...”

"-In my defense, it probably wouldn't have worked- "

“-DO NOT interrupt me” Hermione snarled as she stalked forward tower Harry “You will shut up or Merlin forbidden I will curse you so bad that not even your mate will be able to recognize you.”

Harry nodded quickly as he stared at a very furious Hermione with wide eyes, he let his eyes flicker toward the red-haired man who held up his hand in a surrender motion,  Harry’s eyes narrowed. that traitor would not help.

"You charged into battle without thinking, and who knows what else you did in the 10 hours it took us to board a bloody plane." She huffed before glaring at him. "And if that wasn't enough, as soon as we were alone, your patronus appeared with your message that everything was over and done with. And what? You thought that would be enough for us to forget everything and go on a vacation? A VACATION?! What the hell, Harry!" She punched him hard in the chest.

A burst of magic erupted from her, shattering a few lamps in its wake but it had gone unnoticed from the witch.

"Do you not realize how concerned we all were when we heard what happened? Why didn't you wait for us to arrive? And did you even find Loki? Are you alright? What happened out there?" Her questions came out rapid-fire and she didn't give Harry a chance to answer before her hands were on his face, turning it left and right as her large brown eyes glimmered with a mixture of anger and fear.

And as she was too emotional to even think straight, and would probably not let him answer her question right now. Harry did the only thing he could think of. He swallowed his pride and enveloped her in his arms.

Her words caught in her throat as she tried to speak. "You can't...you can't do that!" Her anger boiled over and she struck his chest again, but then collapsed into his embrace, crying in frustration. Hermione weakly hit him again before grabbing onto his tunic and sobbing uncontrollably.” I've just... I... We..." She suddenly couldn't get any words out as tears choked up her throat.

"Ah! don't cry Herms, I'm fine, everything is fine" Harry said quickly as he hug her tightly, he hated seeing her crying, especially over him. "I'm alive, I’m here, everything is alright…. please don't cry" he begged her softly.

"I'm not crying… you idiot, I’m not!" Hermione sobbed, not fooling any of them.

Harry glanced anxiously at Ron, silently asking for assistance. But his so-called brother simply grinned and wrapped his arms around them both, with Hermione in the middle like a sandwich. "You heard the woman, she doesn't cry"

"Traitor" Harry muttered with a crooked smile while he felt his shirt getting damp from the ‘imaginary tears’ that Hermione didn't shed.

Honestly, it felt good to have them so close, their magic caressing him in welcoming waves as it had been a few stressful hours. They had always acted as something of a calming factor for him since he came into his creature inheritance.

Maybe that was also why he noticed that there was something else pulsing against his magic. A soft and curious touch, a magic that did not belong to either of them but was a combination of two, something new. Harry blinked in surprise and opened his mouth to say something before closing it, no, it was not his place to say anything. But that explained the mood swings and he couldn't help but wrap his arms a little tighter around his sister. Happy for both of them and the new life they had created.

A minute or so later Hermione dragged him away and wiped away the tears that were only imaginary and Harry smiled down at her. A shift in the room behind him made his body freeze for a second, ready to defend his family, before he remembered that they were not alone.

Harry looked over his shoulder and now saw Loki standing there, together with Thor, Tony, and Bruce.

"Oh, blimey, I’m so embarrassed!" Hermione said when she noticed the others in the room, a blush tinted her cheeks "This was so rude of me! My name is Hermione Granger, and this is Ron Weasley, we are this idiot's family" She narrowed her eyes and swatted his arm “Sadly enough”

"Hey," Harry protested.

"No problem at all, just nice to meet you," Tony said with a grin "You probably know who I am but to make it easier I'm Tony Stark, this is Point Break and Raindeer game"

Hermione's brow furrowed in concern as she glanced over at the imposing figures of the gods. Her eyes roamed over their regal forms before settling on Loki, who stood out amongst them with his mischievous smirk and bright green eyes. A glimmer of recognition sparked in her own eyes and she quickly bowed her head. "Your Grace," she spoke with utmost respect, "I cannot thank you enough for what you have done for my brother. I know he is not always the easiest to keep track of, but we love him all the same." Her voice was sincere and full of gratitude. “And I wish you good luck”

Ron erupted into laughter while Harry gaped at her.

"Hermione!"

"What?" She sniffed and tilted her chin up. "Whoever is stuck with you will need all the help they can get because of your Potterness."

"My what now? That's not even a real word," Harry argued, but couldn't help but smile.

"Oh, I think I will like her," Loki said with a small grin "but I think you've got it completely wrong my dear. It's Harry here who saved me"

Harry felt a warmth spread across his cheeks and he cleared his throat slightly when Hermione gave him a sly smile. He rubbed the back of his neck, causing Hermione to follow the motion with her eyes. She noticed a slight tremble in his hand and tension in his jaw. Yet her gaze lingered on his arm, which she suddenly realized was different than before.

Without thinking, she reached out and grabbed his arm, causing him to stiffen at the sudden movement. It was the arm with his soul mark, and he looked down at her sheepishly, unsure of what she was thinking but letting her be.

Hermione’s voice shook as she asked, "When did this happen?" Her fingers were gentle as they traced the flowers etched onto his wrist.

"Huh? What?" Harry couldn't see any major difference from before, maybe more flowers had bloomed? However, he let his sister turn and twist his arm so that she could pull his shirt up higher.

"This," she said, and shook his arm "The color is different, duller than before, like it’s losing its color"

Before Harry could get a word out Loki was there next to him and took his arm in his with a frown. Harry's heart jumped in his chest from the proximity of his mate, and he felt his pulse shoot up as Loki's hand caressed the mark.

"She's right," Loki muttered with an undertone of worry as he unbuttoned his shirt sleeve and pulled it up so that his mark was exposed.

Tony whistled lowly, "Matching tattoo? Is that some kind of tradition for you guys or something?"

Thor denied with a simple shake of his head, "No, it is a soulbound mark. Only those whose destinies are intertwined can bear their tattoo. It is a symbol of their strength and love, and they are one-of-a-kind for each couple." His frown deepened when he also noticed the lack of coloring in his shield brother’s mark.

Loki's tattoo was a stunning display of vibrant blues and yellows, but Harry's tattoo appeared as though it had been smudged with ash.

There was suddenly a heavyweight in his throat, hindering his breathing. Loki’s mouth felt dry and rough. How could this be? When did it happen? He didn't notice anything out of the ordinary before - certainly not yesterday. He distinctly remembered the colors being more pronounced then.

But that wasn't entirely true. Loki felt his heart beating hard and he tried to hold back the panic that was spreading in his chest. He had felt it on the roof, after the last time when it felt like Harry’s soul was tearing itself apart. The tingling sensation had spread up and down his spine.

Harry felt a shiver run down his spine as he stared at his tattoo, now a dull gray against his skin. He remembered seeing something like this in one of his memories of Harald. It was a sign that something was not right with his partner and Harry's gaze sought Loki's.

"What does this mean?" Tony asked, breaking the silence that had fallen over the group.

Loki's eyes were narrowed as he studied the mark on Harry's arm, "It means that something is wrong," he said gravely and almost out of breath, trying to keep the panic that were building under control, but was losing.

Thor's face was etched with concern, "Brother, what is happening?"

"I don't know." Loki’s grip on Harry's arm tightened, his fingers digging into the flesh as panic surged through his body. His breath came in quick, shallow gasps and his heart beat frantically against his chest.

The overwhelming sense of fear that was suddenly emanating from Loki was suffocating, causing Harry's pulse to race and his stomach to turn. He could feel the weight of their situation pressing down on them like a heavy fog, suffocating and all-consuming.

"Loki?" Harry softly called out but received no response. The god was completely still in front of him, his normally expressive face now a mask of stone. Harry couldn't even tell if he was breathing. As he looked at the pale complexion and unmoving form before him, dread crept up in his chest.

“I believe that Mr. Odinsson is having a panic attack,” Jarvis told them and Harry turned out the people around them.

Harry pressed his hand against Loki's chest, he could not feel the rise and fall of his chest as he had stopped breathing. His hand was warm against Loki's cool skin and Loki's hand trembled in his grip. Harry put a hand against Loki's chest "Come on Loki, breathe" he muttered but got no reaction. It was like he could not hear him.

'Breathe Loki, you have to breathe' Harry said over their bond, his hand squeezing down hard on Loki's now shaking hand. His fingers felt icy against his skin and Harry took a step closer to the older man. He could swear the temperature had dropped around them, and he brought his free hand up to Loki's hair and dug it into the jet-black strands as he pressed his head against his.

Loki's face contorted in pain and fear, his eyes wide and pleading as he could not focus his gaze. He clung onto Harry, his fingers gripping tightly onto his shirt as if he was holding on for dear life. His body trembled uncontrollably, sweat glistening on his forehead as he drew in a painful breath.

‘Exactly like that' Harry whispered, as he brought their intertwined fingers up to his chest, and laid it flat against his sternum. Where his heart was beating fast and hard in his chest.'Do you feel that?' he said in a soft voice 'I'm here, I'm alive, and I'm not going anywhere,'

Harry's shirt was being pulled taut against his chest as Loki's fingers gripped it tightly. The prickling sensation of Loki's nails digging into his skin was both uncomfortable and reassuring. Loki’s whole body was now shaking uncontrollably as he finally began to allow air into his lungs.

'Good' Harry praised softly, and his gaze shot up to Hermione and Ron who waved silently to him before they followed Tony and Thor out of the room, and left them alone. Something Harry was eternally grateful for as he did not believe that Loki would have liked his panic attack to be seen by anyone.

Loki's leg gave away suddenly, and Harry followed him down to the floor. Still holding Loki's hand tightly to his chest and the other one lightly gripping his hair.

Loki was still shaking, and if the purple grape wasn't already dead, Harry would kill him a thousand times over in the most painful and slowest way he could think about.

Slowly Loki began to breathe again. His breath was cold against Harry's neck, and it worried the young man a little but not enough to let go of him.

'I'm here' he whispered again softly over their connection, and he noticed that Loki was starting to feel a little more in the moment. A sting of shame from the older man shot through their connection, and Harry’s grip on Loki's hair tightened.

Loki let out a low whine as his arm slipped around Harry's slender waist and hugged him even more tightly than before. Harry could feel Loki’s panic starting to ebb, and he let his fingers massage Loki’s scalp instead of holding it. Not saying or doing anything else, just letting the older man collect his emotions and thoughts.

'I can't lose you again' Loki's voice was thin as he spoke, fragile. 'I can take any other punishment, as long as I don't lose you again.'

Harry ran his fingers through Loki’s black hair, 'no one said you'd lose me again,' he spoke. No, he would not die that easy. There was a strange feeling that filled him, this deep love was his own.

They stayed on the floor for a while longer before Loki started to move away more, and Harry let him. Loki squeezed his hand tightly in Harry’s as if he was afraid he would disappear into smoke if he didn't hold him.

Harry let his fingers fall from his hair and instead let them slowly caress along Loki’s neck and against his cheek. Loki pressed his head against his hand, his eyes squeezed tightly shut as he bit down on his lip so hard that Harry was worried, he would draw blood.

Harry let his fingers caress over Loki’s bruised lips "Don’t do that, don’t hurt yourself" he muttered out loud and Loki flinched slightly but did stop biting down on his lip.

"Look at me," Harry said softly.

Loki raised his head slightly, his eyes still closed. "I can’t" he whispered with a shaky voice.

Harry's heart twisted in his chest as he could feel the pain radiating from Loki through their connection. "Please" he pleaded softly.

Loki slowly opened his eyes, revealing a deep sadness that Harry had never seen before. He looked away, unable to meet Harry’s gaze.

"Look at me," Harry said softly but firmly, and Loki’s eyes snapped back to him.

"You are not alone," Harry spoke with conviction. "I am here with you, always."

Loki’s eyes searched Harry's face for any hint of doubt or deception, but all he saw was love and sincerity.

"I don't know what's happening to us Loki," he said slowly. "From what I remember, both from Harald's memories and my own, this situation we are in is unheard of." A small smile played on his lips as he said it. "But it's nothing new in my life, and I can promise you that I won't die. Because death would not dare to claim what is not his to claim"

Harry gently caressed his cheek and laid it flat against him. "Do you understand what I mean Loki?" he said, holding his gaze as the other man's eyes widened and his lips trembled as he tried to form the words that didn't come out.

'you...wha... you... how?'

Loki struggled to articulate a response, causing Harry to let out a small laugh. "I have no clue, Death has a peculiar way of testing its masters. But somehow, they deemed me worthy enough for the title."

Loki's eyes were wide with shock as he gazed at his mate, unable to comprehend the fact that he was the master of death. In a trembling voice, he asked, "What does that entail? for us?"

"That means you don't have to worry," said Harry. "What happens is what needs to happen. Whatever the outcome is. I have a hard time seeing where my memories end and where Harald's begins, or where his ends and mine begin. Yes, something feels wrong, but!" he hurried to say, hugging Loki's cheek tightly as he both saw and felt the panic bubbling beneath the surface. "I'm sure it'll be okay." Loki hugged his hand tightly, refusing to let go.

"We have to return to Asgard," Loki said suddenly. "They have the best healers, they have Eir, she can help you."

Harry looked at him thoughtfully. "But if you return there, are you sure they won't treat you badly?"

Loki shrugged as he tried to collect himself. "Nothing new, and even if they do, if you can get help I can endure the humiliation that comes with meeting them."

"But they are your family?"

Loki sneered. "No, they are not. I may be…accepted by Thor... but not by the others. Never them" he spat.

"Loki...."

"No, it's decided!" Loki said, forcing his stiff fingers to let go of Harry's warmth. It was the hardest thing he had ever done. But Loki managed it, and as soon as he was free, he stood up on shaky legs and pulled away.

"We'll return there as soon as Stark has fixed the transporter, so you can get help. That you can be fixed, I will not have you damaged" Loki trailed off as he lost his words again. His hands were starting to shake again.

Harry's body tensed as he exhaled deeply. Damaged, the word echoed in his mind like a harsh slap. He knew there was nothing inherently wrong with him, but the thought of being "fixed" brought up conflicting emotions. Harry saw Loki flinch and grimace, as he realized his mistake.

"Harry..."

"No, it's okay," Harry said with a small smiled, "I understood what you meant", that did not mean that it had stung. Harry knew that they were both mentally and emotionally drained and probably overreacted to the word. Especially Loki as Harry both saw and felt Loki dampen his side of their connection, and Harry understood exactly that the older man needed to gather his thoughts.

He stood up and looked at Loki "Let's go up to ours" he said and walked towards the door. He looked over his shoulder at Loki who seemed to have been caught with his gaze again.

"Are you coming?"

The air was heavy with unspoken words as they stepped into the room, the silence between them pressing against Harry's chest. Loki hesitated by the door, his fingers brushing the frame as though unsure whether to stay or retreat. Harry watched him, the weight of their unspoken fears and frustrations hanging like a storm cloud in the small space.

"Loki," Harry said softly, breaking the silence. Loki turned, his piercing green eyes meeting Harry's, and for a moment, they just looked at each other, the connection between them crackling with tension. Harry could feel it—Loki's anxiety, his fear, his exhaustion—all of it resonating through the bond they shared. He wanted to reach out, to pull Loki close and tell him everything would be okay, but something held him back.

"You're shaking," Harry murmured instead, gesturing to Loki's hands, which were clenched into trembling fists at his sides. Loki glanced down, his expression shifting into something unreadable before he turned away and walked further into the room.

"It's fine," Loki said, his voice flat, though the edge of it betrayed his effort to sound indifferent. He stopped by the window, staring out into the night as though the answers to all their problems might be found there. Harry sighed quietly and crossed the room, stopping a few feet away from Loki's rigid form.

"No, it's not fine," Harry said, his voice low but firm. He reached out, his fingers brushing the back of Loki's shoulder. Loki flinched but didn't pull away. "You can't keep pushing through this, Loki. You're not alone in this. Whatever is happening... we'll face it together."

Loki turned slowly, his gaze searching Harry's face. For a moment, Harry thought he saw the faintest glimmer of tears in Loki's eyes, but it was gone before he could be sure. Loki's mask slipped, just for an instant, and Harry saw the raw vulnerability beneath. It hit him like a punch to the gut, leaving him breathless.

"You don't understand," Loki whispered, his voice breaking. "When I go back to Asgard... if they find out— what if they refuse to help you…. Because of me?"

"We'll figure it out," Harry interrupted, stepping closer. His voice was steady, even though his heart was racing. "We always do. You're not alone, Loki. You never have to be alone again."

Loki's breath hitched, and he looked away, his jaw tightening as he struggled to keep his composure. Harry could feel the war inside him, the fight between his need to retreat and his longing to lean into Harry's words. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Loki nodded. It was a small movement, but it was enough.

When Loki decided to take a break, Harry entered the living room. Despite its minimal furnishings, he walked over to the large glass window and looked out at the dimming light. Soon, the sun vanished, and night fell, yet Harry remained by the window.

As he stood there, peering into the darkness, an unsettling feeling crept over him. The connection between him and Loki was still fraught with tension, the emotions from their earlier discussion coursing through it like an electric current.

He knew that Loki was struggling, that the weight of his past and his uncertain future was bearing down on him heavily. But Harry also knew that he cared for Loki deeply, and he was willing to do whatever it took to help him through this difficult time.

Harry put his head on the thick cold glass window beside him and sighed. He should have known how Hemione would react to his message but he had acted arrogantly and told them off.

The look on Ron’s face when he had stood there, and Harry hadn’t felt anything besides a sheepish feeling. Like it all was a simple ‘oops, my bad’ moment. Not a situation where he once again could have died, and even when he had dueled that crazy woman who once was Harald’s aunt, he hadn’t feared for his life more than only thinking about how to save Loki.

Harry groaned only to spin around as he suddenly felt that he was no longer alone. His eyes flicked to the dark shadow in the doorway that stood there.

Loki’s skin was pale, almost like alabaster and it was all in stark contrast to his dark clothes. When finally, Harry’s eyes landed on Loki's face. The sharp but gentle curve of his jawline, the light flush of color on his neck and ears, his eyebrows looking sharp and clean. And his eyes. Harry swallowed as he tried to reel in his emotions but failed miserably as Loki could feel them and the corner of his mouth flicked up slightly.

What caught his attention was Loki’s eyes. In the darkness around them, he could not see the green in them. No. Loki's eyes were completely devoid of any shade of green, instead, they were almost black, like bottomless pools of darkness. But as he stood in the light from the panorama windows, they seemed to reflect all the surrounding light, creating an otherworldly effect, like a starry sky trapped within his irises.

The silence stretched between them as Harry swallowed and breathed out. The only sound in the room was the soft hum of electricity and the gentle beating of Harry's heart as he gazed into Loki's captivating eyes. He contemplated waiting for the other one to make a move, to do anything, but then again, he never had been particularly patient. “You should be resting”