Chapter 53: Chapter 53: Headmaster!
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'Yes,' Loki admitted, not sounding the slightest bit sorry. 'If we stay here, people may begin to think you are hiding some fatigue or injury from the task. If we go, however, you can make a dramatic entrance to the party they will no doubt be willing to hold in your name.' He paused, then added, 'Partying with underlings, seeking to fly, calling down thunder and lightning, you're starting to sound like Thor.'
For a moment, Harry waited for Loki to say anything further, and then asked, 'Is that an insult, or a complement?'
'The former, no doubt. People always liked him more, but people are idiots - deluded, even.'
With a snort, Harry sat up, and glanced around the room. He was glad to discover that it was, in fact, his room. In the state he had been in, it hadn't been a sure thing, and who knew what kind of place he might have wandered into in a school where troll attacks weren't very unusual?
Now safe in the knowledge that no other mythological creatures were nearby - or at least, probably weren't - Harry changed his clothes and made his way from the room and towards the Gryffindor common room.
Luckily, he had been there beforehand, and thus didn't get lost on the way there, which he found to be quite an accomplishment.
So it wasn't long before he found himself standing outside the painting, contemplating whether or not to blow his way through. Whilst he had been here before, it had been weeks ago, and since then the password had been changed. Suddenly, he came to a realisation.
'Wait a minute,' he said, rubbing his chin in thought. 'Painting are sapient to some degree, yes?' At Loki's affirmation, he continued, 'They obviously aren't as advanced and complex as humans, if they are able to created so easily.'
It took Loki a mere moment to grasp his implication. 'That...that might just work.'
Harry made eye contact with the lady in the portrait, and mentally rushed forward with the subtlety of a bull in a china shop. This was not an illusion; this was dominance.
As Harry slammed against the portrait's mind, he found his prediction to be true. Portraits were simple-minded, and with Loki's willpower behind him, it wasn't much trouble to accidentally perceive all of one's mind intentionally.
Having immediately found what he had came for, he pulled back. For a moment, the portrait froze, and then it moving again. That was no doubt one of the many charms he had sensed placed upon it.
The woman in the portrait looked around dazedly, and then focused on Harry. Before she could speak, he said the password and strolled inside.
Seeing that though people were there, they weren't throwing parties in his honour, Harry decided that it simply would not do. A glance around confirmed that no one had seen him enter, he moved over to the window.
After a moment of concentration, three things happened: the window shattered, thunder roared, and a flash of lightning dramatically illuminated a figure whose eyes glowed a neon green.
Harry smirked. Showboating was fun, and if it made him look cool, who was he to not to do it?
It hadn't been long before Harry managed to sneak out of the party he had started and return to his room.
Alcohol didn't really affect him much, and he didn't deem any Gryffindor attractive enough to have sex with - other than himself, of course, but he wasn't gay, and he imagined the mechanics of such an act would be rather complicated - so it hadn't been all too fun.
That said, it hadn't been all bad. His almost complete resistance to alcohol had won him all of the drinking contests. Hopefully that would gain him a few titles.
Maybe a few concerning immortality, for a normal wizard would most likely be dead from what he had consumed. A full Asgardian would be unfazed, and Harry was only slightly affected, though a bit tired.
Nonetheless, he decided that it was a good time to see what was inside the egg, however, and promptly closed it as an alien screeching noise burst from it. Perhaps it was a good time to go to bed.
It wasn't until next morning's breakfast when McGonagall delivered him a summons from Dumbledore. It wasn't exactly hard to guess what it was about, but still, he had hoped the man would simply leave the matter be.
Nonetheless, it wouldn't be good to keep the man waiting, so Harry soon found himself heading up to the Headmaster's Office.
"Ice mice," he muttered at the gargoyle statue and it slid aside. For a moment, he contemplated whether Dumbledore was truly insane, or just playing to others' opinions of him.
He wasn't quite sure which one he would prefer. He cast the question aside and made his way up the stairs.
Deciding that Dumbledore most likely already knew of his arrival, Harry pushed the door open and moved over to the seat, sitting down in front of Dumbledore.
"I assume you know why you're here, Mr Potter?" Dumbledore peered over his glasses as he spoke, and Harry couldn't help but notice it was the exact same line he had used after he had fought Malfoy.
Come to think of it, he probably used the line on everyone to come into his office.
It wouldn't exactly surprise Harry if a large proportion of the wizarding population thought Dumbledore omniscient enough to already know what they had done, and to just be waiting for them to admit it.
That said, Dumbledore was most likely skilled at mind magics, so it wasn't too outrageous an assumption for one to make.
Harry decided to have some fun. "I'm sorry, Professor Dumbledore," he said, his tone filled with great regret. "I know that it's completely unacceptable for a role model of my caliber to be drinking underage, but you see, I was just caught up in the celebrations of the task and didn't want to let my fans down."
Dumbledore seemed slightly stunned, and Harry resisted the urge to laugh. Dumbledore sighed and touched a hand to his forehead. "I feel as though you know fully-well that is not the reason."
Harry looked puzzled. Playing dumb was really quite fun. "I assure you I don't, Headmaster."
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