Loki Laufeyson and the Goblet of Fire

Chapter 8; The Discovery

(told from Loki's point of view)

Harry and Ron fall to the ground. I pick them both up and walk over to Fred and George.

"Sorry about that. They'll be ok, don't worry about them." I say, setting them in the empty chairs next to Fred and George. "So... you found it?"

"Yep." Fred says, sliding a thick, open-faced book over to me. The title reads A Brief History of Muggle Religion. The word "brief" was quite deceiving.

Fred flips to page 576 while George reads over my shoulder. The first thing I see is a large picture depicting a man tied down to a slab of stone, his wrists and ankles bound to the rocks. A woman stands over him, attempting to catch the poison dripping from a fanged snake above him.

I check the title of the page, which reads, "Loki, Norse god of Mischief and Lies."

"Is that you?" Fred asks in disbelief.

"In fact, it is." I say, staring down at the man on the page. My skin was bone white, and I had long hair and a beard similar to Dumbledore. I wasn't wearing anything other than a loincloth. "If you read it, the old norse believed that I was imprisoned after tricking a blind god into killing Odin and Frigga's son Baldur, where I was destined to rot until fate said that when I broke free of my bonds I would start Ragnarok."

Fred and George looked over at me. A disapproving look dawned my face. "Obviously they got some things wrong."

"Don't tell me..." George started.

"How'd the old norse know you?" Fred asked.

I smirked up at him. "Do you really think that I'm 14 years old? If you do, you're highly mistaken."

Fred and George stared at me, and then they both sunk into deep bows. "You are truly our idol and who we ought to look up to!"

"Aww, you're flattering me!" I say, batting my eyelashes. "Seriously though. I don't want praise."

They stand up straight and smile at me. "What can you do? I mean, you must be able to do something special, being a god."

I smiled, glancing up at the ceiling. "Perhaps after curfew. But for now, help me put away these books."

It takes us a while to put away the books. While we're doing so, I recount what happened after Moody had taken me and Malfoy.

"I've never seen such unsportsmanlike behavior!" Moody had growled, dragging me and Malfoy from the entrance hall and down to the dungeons.

"Professor?" I asked. "Where exactly are you taking us?"

"Scared, are you?" he said back.

"No, in fact, I'm more confused." I said, casting an eye around the dungeons. "You do know that I'm a Gryffindor, correct?"

"I know that." he growled. "But you ought to be in Slytherin, with that mouth of yours."

"What exactly is that supposed to mean?" I say. "The gryffindors don't deserve my silver tongue?" I smirk.

"It's that you don't deserve Gryffindor house." he replies.

"That's quite harsh." I say. "I do rather believe the same thing as you, but for different reasons."

A little green flame appears in my hand, and I let it dance around my fingers. "Maybe... I'm just slightly different than everyone else in this school."

Moody leads us down to the dungeons and into Snape's office. "Severus."

Snape, who was sitting at his desk, looks up and stares at me and Malfoy. "What is it this time?"