Loki Laufeyson and the Goblet of Fire

Chapter 3; Mischief Unmanaged

(Told from Loki's point of view)

Ha.

Ha.

Ha.

One thing that you should know about me is that if you don't want things screwed up, don't invite me. One of my favorite things to do in the wizarding world was to make Quidditch matches... well, not quidditch matches. My type of quidditch match had my own personal twists added.

We entered the stadium and made our way up to the top box. Maybe I didn't fit in very well with the Weasleys, but at least they weren't dickheads, unlike some people we met in the top box...

"Good lord, Arthur, how did you manage to get seats up here? Surely your house wouldn't fetch this much?" Lucius was saying as the Minister welcomed Mr. Weasley.

I cracked my knuckles subtly. I mouthed the words "good lord, how could you possibly be such assholes?" Toward Mr. Malfoy and Draco.

"...And you must be Mr. Odinson." Fudge finishes, looking toward me.

"Oh please, call me Loki." I say humbly, shaking his hand. "Prince Loki would be preferred."

The minister wasn't listening. Normally this would have made me pretty pissed off, but I was too busy contemplating the most subtle way to screw up this Quidditch game.

Mr. Bagman had started to announce the players on Bulgaria's national team— or rather, the mascots. Apparently their minds had blanked and they ended up bringing a bunch of hot women onto the field. Of course, I seemed to be the only person who wasn't reacting when music started to play. I looked over at Harry, who's eyes had went completely blank.

"What's happening to them?" I ask Mr. Weasley, who was putting his hands over his ears.

"They're Veela!" He answers. "They make people really confident and.. well, they do this."

He just seems to notice that I'm not reacting to the Veela at all, and I'm not even plugging my ears.

"How can you..." he asks.

"I'm particularly good at obstructing mind-based abilities such as the Veela's, considering that I'm quite skilled at them myself." I explain.

The Veela stop singing, and Mr. Weasley unplugs his ears. "How interesting. Mind reading abilities are very advanced for your age."

"Of course, I'm far more advanced than anyone else in my age group anyway." I brag confidently.

"And now... the Irish National Team Mascots!" Ludo Bagman booms from the top box.

So the Irish mascots come out, the leprechauns fly around the stadium dropping gold everywhere. While the whole stadium scrambles to grab some of the gold, I sit back and scoff at the people who've fallen off their seats in an attempt to take a fist full of gold.

Finally, Bagman announces the players for Bulgaria and Ireland. By far the most celebrated player on the field was Krum, but I was with Hermione. I didn't get what all the fuss was.

The game starts, and it's quite entertaining, watching the players zoom at light speed around the field. I wait for at least ten minutes so that people won't get too suspicious, and then I make my move.

"I'm going to use the washroom." I comment, getting up from my seat.

"What? No! Loki, you're going to miss the game!" Ron protests.

"It'll be like 5 minutes, don't worry." I say. "I'll be right back."

Harry and Ron look back at me, their hands clutched around their Omnioculars as I leave the top box.