Title: Finding Family
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything you recognize, it all belongs to J.K Rowling and Marvel.
It was warm in the void where Loki found himself. There was no light, save the slight gleam of the Bifrost shards around him, impregnating the air with magic. There was no sound, no sensations, nothing but the blissful dark and the thrum of old, powerful magic.
He hated it. He was left alone with his thoughts, and his madness and his actions. He couldn’t deal with it, his origins, his father’s disappointment, his brother’s sacrifice and understanding. The darkness stripped his soul bare, and all he wanted was someone to hold him tight as he sobbed, who would love him unconditionally, who wouldn’t see him as the second prince of Asgard, or the jotun traitor, but just as himself, as Loki.
And his mind could only think of this: how he yearned to be wanted.
Lily Potter put her hands on her stomach and smiled at her husband. Even though the threat that Voldemort posed increased every day, even though muggleborns were being attacked regularly, even though her sister still wouldn’t talk to her, Lily was radiant.
She was going to have a baby, their first, and she would suffer much worse than nausea and gaining weight if she got to have their child. And in her womb, the baby kicked happily, harmless green sparks trailing from its hands.
Harry James Potter was born July 31st at 12:59 p.m.
He was a quiet baby, small and thoughtful, looking around the room curiously. He had a dark tuft of hair that stuck straight up, defying the laws of gravity, and piercing green eyes. When he moved he did so carefully, as though he wasn’t quite sure what would jump out at him should he attempt to move more than a few feet.
In James and Lily’s opinion he was perfect.
“Look Lily!” called James, as he stared down at his son’s cot. Harry was gurgling happily, and pointing at the butterflies that were fluttering around his head.
“What is it?” asked Lily, opening the door to the nursery, and smiling down at her husband and son.
“The butterflies,” he replied grinning, “Look at the butterflies.”
“Well Harry certainly seems to be enjoying them.” Replied Lily, “Why butterflies?”
“I didn’t choose butterflies.” Said James. “In fact, I didn’t cast any spells at all. This is all Harry.”
At the sound of his name, Harry turned towards his parents, a sweet smile on his face. He gazed up at the two amazed faces peacefully, and held out his arms, begging to be picked up.
Lily did so, and then gasped as birds started to flutter around her head.
“How’s he doing that?” she gasped.
“It’s his accidental magic I think. I’ve no idea how he’s got so much control over it, but he definitely inherited his charmwork from you. I wonder how he’d like to try transfiguration?”
James dodged as Lily playfully swatted him.
“You are not letting my son near your wand until he’s at least a decade older.” She commanded. “I am not having you turn him into a prankster.”
“Who said anything about a wand?”
James burst into the room.
“He’s sealed off all the exits, and put up anti-apparation wards, and I lent Dumbledore my invisibility cloak, so we can’t hide Harry under that.”
“What are we going to do?”
“Pray that the rest of the Order arrives here in time.”
But it was too late. The door exploded inwards, and Voldemort entered, wand pointed outwards.
“Hand over the boy,” he said, voice like ice.
“Not Harry, please not Harry,” begged Lily, body shielding her son.
James stepped between Voldemort and his wife, and raised his wand, ready to defend them to the last.
The words were purred, and a sickly green bolt of light came rushing at the family.
Harry started crying, and his mother shushed him, smiling down through her tears. Suddenly a large green shield sprang up in front of James, and the curse rebounded and hit Voldemort.
He collapsed, body turning into a duck, who started quacking angrily.
James and Lily turned to look at Harry, who had stopped crying, and looked pale.
“Did he…?” asked James slowly.
“This is definitely your fault.” Said Lily.
Whispers broke out as soon as the family stepped onto Platform 9 and ¾.
“That’s Harry Potter Mum! He’s the one who defeated You-Know-Who!” was repeated by several excitable 11 year olds, until their parents shushed them hurriedly. That didn’t stop the stares, however.
As well as the students and parents, there was a veritable army of reporters from the Daily Prophet, as well as one lone man in bright yellow robes from the Quibbler.
Harry kissed his mum goodbye, and his dad ruffled his hair, then the living legend stepped onto the train. His parents waved until their son’s compartment wasn’t visible, then, tears on their faces (although James insisted they were ‘manly tears of pride’) there was a sharp crack, and they apparated away.
Several days later, there were complaints of ‘unusual noises’ that sounded like the Doctor Who opening theme, and sightings of strange blue boxes. When they heard this, Lily and James just laughed.
Hmmm. What have we here Mr. Potter? What a very interesting head. Very interesting indeed. You’d do very well in Ravenclaw, with that thirst to learn. However, I don’t think that house could withstand it. Yes, yes, little Trickster. It had better be…
“Now, what about Mr. Potter?” asked Albus Dumbledore, eyes twinkling madly.
It was the first teacher’s meeting of the year, and Dumbledore and his staff were slowly building a profile on each and every student.
At Harry’s name, Snape let out a low groan, and his head thumped onto the table, Flitwick laughed and McGonagall tried to look disapproving.
“He’s certainly very clever,” said Flitwick, “He picks up the lessons twice as fast as the other students. I’m afraid it’s quite vexing to Miss Granger. It seems as if he doesn’t need to be taught, so much as reminded. And he has an amazing aptitude for wandless magic!”
“There’s only one problem with that,” said his Head of House, “he seems to spend his vast amount of free time terrorizing the halls.”
“Terrorizing?” asked Dumbledore.
“Pranking. You can’t go more than three yards without your hair falling out, or being reduced to sounding like a duck for an hour.”
“What’s worse,” added Snape, “is that you can’t pin anything on that boy, because, of course, the spells don’t show up on his wand!”
Dumbledore sighed nostalgically, visions of Marauders dancing through his head. Then, a terrible thought struck him.
“Harry hasn’t met the Weasley twins, has he?”
“His best friends are their younger brother, Lucius Malfoy’s son and the smartest witch in his class.”
Dumbledore paled. Seven years was going to be a very long time.
“Catch me, please, catch me!” came the agonized shouts from the bed next to Ron Weasley.
“Thor, brother please! I didn’t mean to! Please!”
Ron looked up sleepily. It was coming from Harry Potter’s bed.
“Don’t let me fall father!”
He sat bolt upright. It looked like Harry was having a nightmare. He was curled into a small ball, shouting out and whimpering. Ron stumbled over blearily, and shook his shoulder.
“Hey, it’s alright mate, yeah? Nobody’s going to let you fall. You’re safe.”
Harry didn’t say anything or open his eyes, but he turned towards Ron and seemed to relax.
The two boys didn’t talk about it the next day, but from then on they became fast friends.
“I don’t think this is a good idea Harry.” Said Hermione warily. Harry just grinned.
“Come on, it’ll be fine,” he said breezily. “After all, it isn’t permanent.”
“Yes, but outside the great hall? Is that really the best idea?”
“I don’t know, Harry, maybe she’s right.” Said Ron.
“Really Weasley, the only reason you’re agreeing with her is because you want to be on her good side,” drawled the blond next to him.
“Am not. Git.”
“Really Weasel, is that the best you can come up with?”
Ron made as if to punch his shoulder, and both the boys started laughing.
“Now you’ve finished your male posturing, I’m like to remind you that we’re supposed to be convincing Harry that this is a bad idea.”
“Look, Granger, you know as well as I that if Harry really wants to do this there’s no stopping him. Besides, don’t think we don’t know you like the pranks.”
Hermione scowled and whacked the back of Draco’s head.
“I just want it noted that I thought this was a bad idea.” She sniffed.
The next day, when the entire student population found itself eating breakfast on the roof of the Great Hall, Hermione laughed twice as hard as the rest of them.
“I can’t believe we’re in going to see Stark Tower!” said James excitedly, “Do you think we”ll be able to see the Avengers?”
“Honestly Dad,” said Harry rolling his eyes, “I’m acting more mature than you are.”
“You are, are you?” said James, grinning. Swooping down, he picked Harry up and swung him over his shoulders where he proceeded to carry him down the street like a sack of potatoes.
“Sorry, what was that about childish?”
“Fine! You’re the best dad in the world, and are very, very mature.”
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far…” he muttered.
“Boys!” Lily called back, “Hurry up, we’re going to be late! You don’t know how hard it was for me to get a guided tour.”
“Coming mum,” called Harry.
“And remember,” she continued in a softer voice once he caught up to her, “even though your wandless magic can’t be detected by the Ministry, that isn’t an excuse to use it all the time. And don’t think we’re not going to talk about you turning all the cauldrons into licorice. That wasn’t very nice for your uncle Sev, was it?”
“But mum…” he whined, “It was the last day of school, and I needed to do something! It wasn’t like they stayed that was that long…”
Lily shook her head at her son’s antics, and smiled. It was definitely James’ fault. She should have known better than to marry a trickster like him.
Harry, seeing she was lost on thought, took the opportunity to make his escape, and ran down the road…
…only to bump into the large blond man staring in shock at him.
“I’m awfully sorry sir.” Apologized Harry.
“Brother?” asked Thor.