013 -- Loki's Father

I ran back down into the dungeons, looking for the door to the common room. It was a large portrait, hanging on the wall in the corridor. I glanced around and then whispered the password to it, standing back so it would let me in.

Once inside, I noticed that Loki was still sitting in the window seat. He was still petting Frey, and was looking stormier than ever. I was so confused by this point that my good humor vanished as if it had never been. I approached him cautiously.

"Did you want to go talk?" I asked, feeling unsure whether he wanted to be interrupted.

He looked up, almost startled that I had snuck up on him. "Yeah," he nodded to me. "Did you find somewhere we can go?"

I sat down and flipped open my journal to the page I had scribbled the notes on. "Yeah, there are some old, unused classrooms on the third floor," I told him. "I figured those are our best bet for privacy. Shall we go?"

He nodded again, still quiet, and stood up, letting Frey jump onto the seat to curl up in the warm spot where he'd been sitting. "Yes, let's go," he whispered.

I stood to, and went back out the door, letting him silently follow behind.

We trekked up to the third floor, and, winded, started looking around where I was sure I'd found the classrooms. After a brief moment of being lost, we discovered an abandoned room filled with old, dusty tables. There were some chairs arranged in a circle around one that was standing out by itself, and several shelves filled with possessions that looked much too recent. I had the funny feeling that someone had been using it recently, but since there wasn't anyone here now, I marched in and sat down at the solitary table, indicating that Loki should also sit with me. He did, and I turned to him.

"Now, what's all this gloom about? And why the odd moment last night in the Hall?" I asked, eager to know what was bothering my friend.

He took a deep breath to steady himself.

"It's a long story...I was born in a snowy town in the United States. My parents were so proud to have a son. My father is rich, and needed someone to take over his company. But as I started growing...things started happening. I would make weird things happen...like a lot of young wizards and witches who are inexperienced. Well it scared them, and they thought maybe I'd been possessed by the real Loki, the God. They worried a lot about this...and finally, when I made some of my parents' money disappear...they'd had enough. They decided the best place to move...was to a town in Massachusetts...called Salem."

He was shaking. I did my best to listen without response, letting it all sink in, but I had an odd feeling that it wouldn't be happy, the end of this story..

"They thought being in a town that hated magical beings would scare the powers out of me...it should have worked...if Loki had really possessed me. That place...it was terrifying. Things only got worse. My father had always attended my junior track meets, and cheered me on. Now he only glares...and acts like I'm wasting his time. Then...it happened. Some kids were picking on me because they saw me stop their ball from hitting me in the face. They started hurting me...and I got so angry...I wished they would stop."

There were tears in his eyes now. I shivered.

"A tree branch, a huge one, fell and hit them on the head. There was so much blood...I didn't know what to do! My father was furious...he wouldn't even talk to me, and would constantly insult me and everything I did...my mother...as usual, drank her cocktail and pretended like we were talking about the weather....I didn't do anything wrong...right? There's nothing wrong with me! And when I got my Hogwarts letter we found out why those things had happened. But my father didn't let me go...I finally managed to tell him that I would get good grades...and that at Hogwarts I'd learn to control my powers. He let me go...and thank god for the beginners deposit at Gringotts...because without it...I wouldn't have been able to come. They had all that money...and refused to get it exchanged for Wizard currency."

He looked at me for my response..he looked so fearful, and he was crying, though he was trying not to, and I could tell. I thought back on it. His mother, drunk and turning her head to the side? A father not proud of his own son, because he felt that his own reputation would be ruined by it? Without warning, I burst into tears, myself.

"Loki!" I sobbed, "I never knew! I'm so sorry! And here I've talked to you about missing my own parents, when yours were so cruel!" I covered my face with my hands, unable to bear the shame. How terrible for him! And how awful of his parents! I couldn't fathom two adults being so mean.

He was crying now, too. "I'm sorry I made you cry, too! It's fine, really! I'm glad your parents are so wonderful! It lets me know nice people exist in this world." He looked down, settling a little.

"It's nice knowing that not all people are brutes like my dad. I never knew what kindness was, Jordan, until I met you. You're amazing! And ever since I've felt so close to you...closer than to the others.." He was blushing now and looking at his hands. I looked down, too, and felt my stomach sink. Hands. Darla was talking about hands.. Holding hands.

I gulped. I didn't want to think about hands, or holding hands, or how amazing anyone was. It was frightening me to think of those things.

"I like being around you, too," I admitted softly. "You're the first friend I've ever truly had, ever since that first day by the fireplace, so don't be so sad. We'll be like family now, I promise. You have a whole family and a home here." I waved my hand around at the dusty room. "You don't need your father and his company. So please stop being sad."

He smiled for me. "You are my friend," he said, "And I'm so thankful for that."

I looked around, deciding it was time to change the subject. "So what do you think these rooms were used for, anyway?" I stood up and started examining the names scratched into the tables, and the photos on the shelves.

"Maybe they're used for practical lessons!" he suggested, excited. He made one last comment about his father, and I cringed. "Now you know why I detest being called Mr. Sulliman. Mr. Sulliman is my father. I'm just Loki."

I nodded, dismissing it. "That's an annoying habit, anyway. Jo should quit it." I said, forgetting her immediately. I felt nervous. The eerie silence in this room was starting to get to me.

"So what should we do now?" Loki asked. "Not the Great Hall again, we've been there too much already this week. I'd rather explore."

I turned and leaned against the table to look at him. "I'm not sure where to go, though. I did a lot of exploring earlier today.." I said, still uneasy.

We both heard a noise in the hall at that moment and looked up to see the very girl we had just mentioned walk into the room. My face fell, and so did Loki's. I knew he was wondering the same thing; how long had she been there?

"We could go hang out at the fourth floor staircase," she suggested with a coy smile.

"How did you know that we were thinking about going somewhere?" Loki shot at her, nervously. I glared at her. How like her to be lurking out in the hall when we were trying to escape everyone!

She laughed and flipped her hair off of her shoulder. "I wanted to make sure you weren't talking about me," she said confidently.

"The staircase doesn't sound very interesting.." Loki said, still looking a little green at the thought of Jo knowing his secret. "What if we go outside and practice some spells?"

I frowned. "I don't have a wand yet," I told him. "One of the Prefects is supposed to be taking me to Diagon Alley over Winter Holiday."

Joellen glanced around the dusty room disdainfully. "I don't have a wand, either," she said, holding her finger to her nose to keep from sneezing. "But I can't stay in this dirty old room. Maybe we could practice saying spells."

Loki sighed wearily. He looked very tired, and his eyes were puffy and red from crying. "Sorry, girls, but I think I'm just gonna go to bed after all," he announced, yawning. I yawned, too, as Loki stood up to leave. "Goodnight Jordan..Jo." he said, walking past her and out the door without looking back. I stared after him sadly.

Joellen smirked over at me. "Maybe you should go to bed, too. You're only ten, and you need your sleep." She was annoying me. Why couldn't she act like she was the same age as we were? Stupid, cocky first year. I was still staring after Loki, and but I turned and rounded on her angrily as soon as he was down the stairs and out of earshot.

"Look here!" I growled, getting in her face. She stepped back, wrinkling her nose. "Just who do you think you are? All this fake politeness and mocking smiling..why don't you just lay off the two of us!" I grabbed my journal off the dusty desk, and sneezed when the cloud of dust rose up around my face. "I'm going to bed," I announced. "But only because I want to, and not because I'm "too young" to stay up!" I marched past her and down the hall, hoping she wouldn't follow. At least I could escape her once I got to the dungeons.

Back in the common room, I threw my stuff down on the desk and sat down heavily. I was more tired than even I had realized. I thought about writing to my parents, but I didn't know what to say. What should I tell them? My mother's tour was up in Spring, and both of my parents wanted to move back to the 'States. With me. But I didn't want to go. I wanted to stay here. I was trying to figure out how to convince them to let me stay. Sighing, I rested my cheek against the cool wood of the desk, and closed my eyes. I drifted off to sleep thinking about letters and crappy fathers and Jo's superior comments...