Once Upon a Dream

By Ammie Hawk

Disclaimer: I wish, I wish, with all my might…

AN: So, this chapter has been fighting me for months, but I finally got Loki to throw me a bone, and got it finished. Anyway, moving on.

Chapter 2

Green eyes fluttered slowly open, as Harry finally came around. He squinted up into the concerned face of his female best friend as she leaned over him. He gave her a half smile as he fumbled for his glasses and sat up.

"Are you okay?" the bushy haired witch took a step back to give him some space. "You were really hard to wake up."

"I'm fine," he shook his head. "I just needed to say a few things before I left."

"Wait," her brown eyes widened in surprise, "are you saying he was there?"

"Yeah, he was," he stood up and stretched, before turning to his trunk for his Hogwarts robes.

"And?" she pressed, retaking her seat, having already changed while he was sleeping.

"Well, I found out why he wasn't there before," he shrugged. "Apparently, he was scared that I wasn't real. And I got to see him. God, he's hot."

"That's always a plus," Hermione chuckled. "But how did you manage that? It took months before Sif and I managed to actually see each other."

"I don't know," he frowned slightly. "It was all Loki's doing. Though, he did say I helped because we ended up in the Gryffindor common room."

"Loki?" brown eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Your soulmate's name is Loki? What did he actually look like?"

"What would it matter?"

"Just, please, tell me," she took a calming breath.

"Fine," he shook his head. "He's tall, six foot or taller, with shoulder length black hair, and green eyes. He's lean, but strong. And I'm really not doing him any justice at all."

A frown marred the brunette's face as she got to her feet and began rummaging in her trunk. Harry watched her in confusion but didn't have the chance to question her strange behavior as the train came to a stop. She shoved a few papers into her pockets before rushing out of the carriage to assist the Prefects and first years. He shook his head and made his way off the train.

As he made his way to the thestral drawn carriages, his mind drifted back to his soulmate. He had so many questions he wanted to ask, but didn't even know where to begin. He wanted to know everything, but he could probably wait. They did have a lifetime to get to know each other, that was if he survived his destiny.

He boarded a mostly empty carriage, not really paying attention to who else was inside.

"Did you get lost, Potter?" a voice drawled from the other side of the carriage.

"Oh god," Harry groaned as he looked up and met the grey eyes of his rival, Draco Malfoy. "Look, Malfoy, I'll just…"

Before he could finish his thought, however, the carriage lurched forward. Luckily, it was just the two of them, as the blond wasn't surrounded by his usual entourage. They stared at each other for a moment, both seeming to wait for the other to make a move.

"You seem distracted, Potter," the Slytherin finally broke the tense silence.

"So, what, we're just supposed to chat now?" a dark brow rose curiously.

"Look," Draco shook his head, "you're the one who got into my carriage. I was just making an observation. You can talk or not, that's entirely up to you. We could both just stare out the window, but it is quite a trip up to Hogwarts, so we may as well pass the time."

"Fine," the raven sighed as he leaned back in the seat. "Yes, I'm distracted. Happy now?"

"Ecstatic," he said sarcastically. "So tell me, what has you so preoccupied that you would get into a carriage with the one person at Hogwarts who doesn't kiss your feet?"

"Malfoy, I never wanted any of that and you know it," green eyes narrowed into a glare.

"Look, I don't care," the blond held up a hand to cut him off. "I'm only interested in what's going on now. So what happened? Granger not put out for you?"

"That's gross," Harry gave him a disapproving scowl. "Hermione's like a sister to me. And besides, she's kinda seeing someone else."

"Who?" the Slytherin chuckled slightly. "Don't tell me it's Weasley, and he's two timing her? And not very well at that."

"No, Ron's with Lavender," green eyes rolled in annoyance. "Fine. Let me ask you a question. What do you know about soulmates?"

"What, that one person you meet in your dreams that's supposed to complete you?" Draco scoffed. "The one person who's your perfect match in every way? Every pureblood knows the story. It's a fairy tale, Potter."

"But it's not, Malfoy," Harry frowned, he couldn't believe he was having this conversation with Malfoy of all people. "Look, I didn't believe it either, until Ron mentioned it last year. We brewed a potion to jumpstart the connection. Ron's and Hermione's dreams started right away. That's why Ron's with Lavender, they're soulmates. Hermione hasn't met hers yet, they're still on the dream phase. And mine, well, mine just started over the summer. That's why I'm distracted. I just pretty much talked to him for the first time while I was sleeping on the train."

"Let me get this straight," the blond smirked almost evilly, "you not only believe this soulmate bullshit, but yours is a guy?"

"That's what you got out of that?" he had the strangest sense of déjà vu.

"No, I heard the rest," the other cackled. "But tell me, Potter, have you always been into blokes? How many guys have you had take that tight ass of yours?"

"You been checking out my ass, Malfoy?" a dark brow rose curiously.

"What? No, why would I…?" a light pink dusted the pale cheeks.

Harry couldn't help but laugh as the carriage came to a stop. He was still chuckling as he followed the blond out of the vehicle. This was just too good. Draco Malfoy, the great Slytherin price, was interested in the same sex.

Before he was able to round the carriage, he found himself slammed against the hard surface.

"One word of this conversation, Potter," grey eyes bore into green, "and I'll make you regret it."

"What are you going to do about it, Malfoy?"

He grunted slightly as he was pushed roughly into the side of the carriage and a wand was shoved into his neck. How had Malfoy gotten the upper hand in this little banter of theirs?

"I'm warning you, Potter," the Slytherin growled.

"Fine," Harry ground out. "Your secret is safe with me."

"Good," the blond released him.

Without another word, he turned on his heel and made his way into the castle. Harry stood there a moment, rubbing his neck and rotating his sore shoulders. The Gryffindor took a deep breath and continued into the castle. He joined the crowd of students flooding into the Great Hall and found a spot at his house table where he could save some seats for his friends. Lavender Brown was the first to join him only a moment or so after he was seated.

"Hello, Harry," she smiled at him.

"Lavender," he nodded. "How was your summer?"

"It was good," her smile broadened. "Yours?"

"It was… interesting," he hedged slightly, he'd gotten used to Lavender over the past year since she and Ron had gotten together, but he was nowhere close enough to her to spill his guts.

"So," she leaned in conspiratorially, "Ron told me you might have finally met your soulmate. That's so exciting."

"It wasn't really his place to tell you that," Harry sighed, "but yeah, I did. And I guess I'm excited. I mean, we've only talked twice."

Before she could comment further, Ron and Hermione joined them. There was no time to talk, besides the cursory greetings as the first years were led in and the Sorting Ceremony began.

Once the new first years were Sorted, the feast began and the Great Hall erupted into noise. The group of four filled their plates before any of them decided to start up any form of conversation.

"So, Harry," Lavender leaned in once more, so their conversation had a semblance of privacy, "you said you talked with your soulmate twice, but Ron only mentioned the initial meeting, when was the second?"

"Wait," his redheaded best friend interrupted around a mouthful of chicken, "I thought you weren't going to try on the train?"

"I wasn't trying," Harry shrugged. "It just kinda happened."

"So did you find anything else out?" Ron asked curiously. "Any clue as to who it might be?"

"I did," a soft smile crossed his features. "I got a name, and we even got to see each other."

"That took us ages to figure out," Lavender pouted.

"So what's her name?" his best friend prodded, choosing to ignore his soulmate at the moment. "What does she look like?"

"His name is Loki," green eyes rolled in mild annoyance. "And he's tall, with black hair and green eyes. And he's older, too. Though, he looked younger than Sirius he talked as if he was older than that."

"It is possible that he is," Hermione finally joined in the conversation. "I mean, Sif doesn't look much older than us, but let's just say the age gap is quite substantial. It all depends on where they came from. Sif is an Asgardian, and they age much more slowly than we do."

"Hermione, aren't you even the least bit surprised that Harry's soulmate is a guy?" Ron asked indignantly.

"He told me when he first got the dream," the bushy haired brunette scoffed. "And even then it didn't surprise me. I mean, come on, all the time we've spent at your house have you never seen him check out Bill or Charlie's ass?"

"Hermione, those are my brothers you're talking about," the redhead squawked in outrage, while the blonde next to him dissolved into uncontrollable giggles.

"Look," Hermione rolled her eyes at the pair's antics, "for soulmates gender doesn't matter. In fact, being soulmates doesn't mean you have to be romantically involved at all. It's just two souls that are compatible with each other."

"Look, guys," Harry held up his hands to silence their bickering, he was so glad they hadn't been soulmates, they would've been unbearable then, "guy or girl, I don't care. I'm just glad he isn't Voldemort."

He rolled his eyes as all three of them flinched at the name. He had tried over the years to get them to call Voldemort by his name, but it was still a work in progress.

After that, the conversation shifted to the coming year, and the meal was finished in relative peace. Shortly afterward, the start of term announcements were given and they were dismissed for the night. Harry and Lavender joined the rest of the Gryffindors heading out of the Great Hall, as Ron and Hermione went off to assist with the first years. The four of them met up in the common room before Harry and Hermione excused themselves for the night.

Up in the dorm room, he greeted his other three fellow seventh years. Dean Thomas was doing his yearly ritual of hanging posters around his bed, while Seamus Finnigan stood next to his own bed, pulling out his pajamas and chatting away about the break with his dark skinned friend. Neville Longbottom was already in the process of changing.

The bespectacled teen went over to his trunk and began searching for his own sleepwear. He joined the other's conversation until he was changed and ready to get into his own four poster. He then bid them all goodnight and pulled the curtains closed. Once that was done, he settled back against his pillow and waited for sleep to claim him.

Harry found himself standing in the doorway of a large open room. The far wall was entirely made of what he assumed to be glass, which showed a panoramic view of the city and the sky beyond. The left side of the room was a large desk littered with papers and scrolls, and a huge shelving space next to it, which seemed to have no rhyme or reason in the building of it, chock full of books of all shapes and sizes, and even more scrolls. The opposite side had a fireplace, with a table a few feet in front of it and a couch rather cattycorner to the side.

He made his way into the room, and toward the large window, curious about the city below as the skyline wasn't one he recognized. He had just made it passed the couch, however, when a voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Hello, Harry. I've been waiting for you."

"Loki," he turned to find the other lounging ostentatiously on the couch. "I take it this is your place?"

"It has been my sanctuary for most of my life," the Asgardian nodded.

"It's… nice," he let his gaze travel back over his current surroundings.

"You disapprove," the other sounded disappointed.

"No," he shook his head. "I can't lie here, remember? It is nice, a bit stuffy, kinda reminds me of the library, but there is something comforting about it."

"I see," a small smile danced across Loki's features. "Well, please, have a seat," he motioned to the spot next to him, "and we can while away the hours until dawn."

"Uh, actually," the wizard chuckled nervously, "I, uh, think it, uh, might be better if I, uh, sat elsewhere."

"Why ever for?" the god of mischief frowned deeply.

"It's just that I want to talk," he shrugged. "Get to know you. And, uh, sitting with you, like we did earlier, is… is very distracting. I just can't think like that."

"You're afraid of me," the other's face fell despondently.

"No," Harry shook his head. "Why would I be afraid of you? No. Look, Loki, we pretty much met each other, and yeah, cosmically we're supposed to complete each other, but we know nothing about each other. I, personally, would like to change that. And while, yes, we have a lifetime to figure all this out, we may as well start somewhere, so why not here?"

"You have a point," the trickster conceded, and with a wave of his hand a matching armchair appeared next to the couch.

"That was cool," a grin spread across the Gryffindor's face as he sank down into the chair. "How did you do that?"

"I am a master of illusion," the Asgardian couldn't help but smile, "and what is a dream but the greatest illusion."

"It's still cool," Harry reiterated. "Can you do anything else or is it just illusions?"

"There is so much more to magic than mere illusions, my dear Harry," the other sat up and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees.

"Oh, I know," he nodded, also leaning forward. "I'm a wizard. I'm actually going to school to learn magic. So, you're a wizard, too?"

"It's so much more than that," Loki chuckled wryly. "We can get into that later. For now, why don't we start with something else? What would you like to know?"

"Okay," the bespectacled teen agreed, a thoughtful look on his face. "Alright, how about you tell me about your family? What are your parents like?"

"That is not the most pleasant topic," the god of mischief sighed heavily. "But as my Fated, you have the right to know. As for my parents, I only met my birth father once, a few years back, and, shortly thereafter, he was killed. I never met my mother, and honestly have no idea who she was."

"I'm sorry," the wizard gave him a commiserating look.

"As an infant, I was taken in and adopted by Odin and Frigga, raised alongside their son, Thor. I was raised a prince and told I was born to rule. But I was never treated the same as their own son, and would never be allowed to sit on the throne."

"So, wait," Harry held up his hand, "you were raised as a prince? And that's a bad thing?"

"I was lied to my entire life," Loki snapped. "I was led to believe something that would never be."

"But you had people who cared about you," he shook his head in disbelief, "gave a shit about you, probably love you, what's so wrong with that? So, they didn't tell you you weren't exactly theirs, so what?"

"They never cared about me," the Asgardian snarled. "Not like they did about Thor. He was always the favorite. He was always the one who would get the throne."

"Boo-fucking-who," the wizard scoffed. "So you won't get a throne? Who fucking gives a…"

Green eyes snapped open and Harry sat straight up, once more in his four poster bed in Gryffindor Tower. He flopped back on his pillow, still pissed about what he'd just heard, and consulted his watch. It was just after four in the morning. With a heavy sigh, he got out of bed, as there was no point in him trying to get any more sleep now, he was too riled up. He decided to head down to the common room and maybe he could calm down before he had to be in class in a few hours.

Ammie: Okay, there it is. This dream sequence killed me, especially the ending. Special thanks go out to everyone who helped me muddled through it and get it working. Anyway, please let me know what you think.