Summary: [Loki/Hermione] Loki and Hermione were doing well until Loki saw something that made him think their relationship was less than he thought it was. Like a proper God of Mischief, he takes it out on everything around him. Meanwhile, others help Hermione piece her life back together— without that magic-flinging idiot god of Åsgard.

Beta Love: The Dragon and the Rose and Dutchgirl01 with Flyby Commander Shepard

A/N: was supposed to be a one shot… why does that never work...

The Emptiness

Chapter One

Once I knew only darkness and stillness... my life was without past or future... but a little word from the fingers of another fell into my hand that clutched at emptiness, and my heart leaped to the rapture of living.

Helen Keller

"You're an idiot," Thor said as he brushed away a part of a bridge that his brother had collapsed on top of him. "Stop taking your temper tantrum out on the mortals because you can't admit to yourself that you fucked up."

Thor dodged a blast of magic and the poor pigeon nest that toppled from above. He frowned as the pigeon ended up on his head.

Coo, said the pigeon.

"You know nothing," Loki hissed, throwing another blast of magic.

Thor stepped aside— again. He sighed. "How many more bridges are you going to blow up, brother? Surely you must tire of it."

Yet another piece of the bridge jerked and twisted as the concrete separated from the steel.

"Nope, still amusing," Loki replied, his lip curling. He sent another blast at the bridge, and another piece of it came crashing down.

"You think blasting a bridge is going to somehow make it all better?"

"Well, I feel better," Loki snarked.

"Well, the bridge has had better moments!" Thor said, gesturing to the collapsing bridge. He looked up at it. "I rather liked that bridge."

"By all means, put it back together," Loki said invitingly. "I'll take it back down."

"Mature."

"Like you're one to talk, Mr I'll-wrestle-frost-bears-starkers because I need to show Jane I'm a real man."

"That was just once!"

"Once was all I needed to see," Loki sniffed.

"You're miserable without her."

"Like you're one to talk!" Loki hissed. "You stomp around Åsgard. Jane this. Jane that. Why aren't you over there giving her a good shag instead of—"

THWACK!

Thor's fist sent Loki tumbling arse over teakettle into the bridge, and even more of it crashed down.

Thor twitched.

And crashed down.

Thor winced again.

More crashed down.

Thor slumped.

People with cell phones took pictures of him, pointing, fingers and whispering.

Thor sighed. Why did it always end up being his fault?

-o-o-o-o-o-

As Loki walked up to the small cottage he was assaulted by an entire flock of small angry birds that pecked mercilessly at his face, hands and exposed skin.

He winced, beating off the birds with his hands, and they poofed in a cloud of feathers after making a disturbing popping noise. He trudged further up the path and was attacked by brassed-off mini-quetzalcoatls this time. They flared their feathered manes at him and hissed angrily, spitting venom at his face and eyes.

"Bloody hell," Loki cursed. "Since when do quetzalcoatls expel venom like a sodding spitting cobra?" He staggered through, giving the annoyed serpents a wide berth as he tried to see through his stinging eyes.

KerTHUMP!

Loki found himself flat on his arse in a shrubbery with a hippogriff giving him the fish eye as it chewed on its ferret dinner. He rubbed his ribs where the irritated bird-beast had kicked him. He was starting to wonder if there was another God of Mischief reigning over Britain.

Standing up, wincing as he did so, he gave the cranky hippogriff a wide berth as well. He'd taken a few steps when his boots caught on a strand of silk and send him tripping forward until he smashed his head against the door of the cottage. He fell backwards on the path with a piteous groan as a clutter of startled-looking, overly fluffy arachnids scurried over from the door.

"Oops."

"Do we get extra points for tripping the God of Mischief?"

"I think so."

"Not very coordinated, is he?"

"You sure he's a god?"

"Well he's a Norse god. They do have flaws."

"Many flaws if you read the books."

"Maybe we should add that to the list."

"Isn't he supposed to be a giant with ginger hair?"

"Don't believe everything you read."

The spiders disappeared under the door, squeezing through the crack like mouse with a flexible spine.

Loki groaned. "What else can possibly go—"

An orange feline yawned and pushed a clay tile off the roof, causing it to crash down on top of Loki's head. The half-Kneazle jumped down and neatly flung himself through the open window, disappearing into the cottage.

Loki lay supine. "Ow."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"I am the GOD of Mischief!" Loki proclaimed. "Mischief should follow in my wake not come before me and smack me in the face!"

Loki found himself holding a basket of dead ferrets as a herd of hungry hippogriffs mobbed him for food, kicking him around when he didn't have the mind to bow properly.

The hippogriffs whirled around to take their food elsewhere, but not before they smacked him soundly about the head with their dead ferrets and stepped on his toes with their hooves.

Loki's eyebrows twitched as he stormed toward the cottage on a mission.

His foot promptly hit a pile of fresh hippogriff dung and he went sliding onto his back.

The mini-quetzalcoatls popped out of the nearby rosebush and spit venom into his eyes before disappearing back into the garden.

Loki moaned.

"Bloody arse-badgers."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"You must be able to do something, Thor. I'm not sure how many more bridges the world can take being blown up," Stark said. "Can't you just brain him over the head with some of that Asgardian mead you're so fond of and have him cope like a normal person?"

"My brother was never much of a drinker," Thor sighed.

"Maybe he should start," Tony muttered as he tweaked a schematic on a 3D tablet protector. "Fury is up in arms as it is, saying he has to reimburse the hocus pocus people and the Supreme Pizza for their emergency time putting the bridges back together to— how was it— keep the world from falling to pieces because they can't get to the bar after work."

"That does not sound right," Thor said, scrunching up his face.

"Don't go thinking on me now, blondie," Starke snarked.

Thor scowled. "Wait. You were the one who pointed my brother toward Lady Hermione to begin with to get Doctor Strange out of your little meeting."

"It was not little. It was a date. With Pepper. Far more important than world peace. Besides for almost a whole year he didn't destroy any bridges or subjugate any cities, blow up skyscrapers, or bring down alien invasions to destroy Earth."

"He rolled that fungus wheel all around the River Thames."

"Ferris Wheel, and that does NOT count. Nothing on the other side of the ocean counts," Tony muttered.

"Sir, technically you did say any cities—"

"Shut up, Jarvis, that's an order."

"Shutting up… sir."

Thor slammed his hands down on the desk together, glowering darkly. "You got my younger brother infatuated with an Earthwoman just so you could go out on a date?"

Tony tweaked the schematic with his fingers. "Look, I know it sounds bad, but technically she's one of those hocus pocus fancy stick-waving people who open up dimensional portals and shove demons through them."

"Sorcerer," Thor said.

"Fancy robes. Fancy words. Fancy sticks. Still sticks." Tony waved him off his schematic. "Suits your brother. All that fancy pantsy mumbo jumbo he likes."

Mjölnir slammed into the middle of his hologram. The schematic was jarbled and formed into a rather naughty video of himself and Pepper getting it on on the roof of Starke Enterprises.

Tony frantically tried to dispel it, but Mjölnir was right in the middle, creating some sort of loopback circuit.

The sound of a crashed tea service rang out.

Thor and Tony looked up to see Pepper staring at the video loop, her bright red hair seemingly writhing like Medusa's serpents.

"What the HELL is that, Tony?!"

Tony swallowed hard. "I uh. Well. This isn't what it looks like."

The video continued provide a loop displaying the damning evidence.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Stephen Strange eyed the mini quetzalcoatl that was lapping cream out of his coffee.

"Not that I think rebuilding the infrastructure of various cities isn't a great way to train our young initiates, Hermione, and as much as Wong loves having Fury paying through his teeth to have us do the work he can't do in a timely manner— how long do you think it's going to take for this… ah, particular disagreement to be resolved?"

Hermione Granger, teacher, caretaker, witch, and sorceress, sipped her tea as she rubbed her finger under the chin of one of the quetzalcoatls, which purred in appreciation. "When he pulls his arrogant head out from his arse," she said.

Her hair seemed to writhe, but aethereal serpents rose from her hair and hissed in displeasure.

"Those are new," Stephen said, arching a brow.

Hermione sighed. "It is increasingly hard to teach in a Wizarding school when interdimensional friends choose to follow me home. Not that I can't teach, but trying to explain why random things they've never seen before and can't find a reference to just pops out of my storage room, hair, desk, supply shelves—"

"You could take on a sorcerer's apprentice," Strange suggested. "You're more than capable of handling one."

Hermione snorted. "The last one I took on ran screaming back to you saying they couldn't handle it."

"She's not giving Wong any better attitude," Strange admitted. "She comes from a family of magic users, but it's a different sort of magic. A lot like your Wizarding magic. She's convinced if she can do it her way that she doesn't need to learn our way. That attitude will get her killed the moment she tries to use Earth-magic on a Sargothian Demon and gets her brains sucked out through her nostrils."

"Please, Master. I'm drinking my tea." Hermione drank down the last of her tea as a rampaging clutter of fluffy spiders scurried off with the cup and set down a new one.

Dr Strange shook his head as he watched the dutiful spiders tending eagerly to their mistress' cottage. "How is it that you can bring home all sorts of helpful and engaging creatures, and I can barely keep my own cloak in order?"

The levitation cloak in question promptly smacked him upside the head.

"I rest my case."

Hermione chuckled. "If it makes you feel any better, the hippogriffs are from Earth and they don't like anyone right now. It's their breeding season, you see."

Stephen groaned. "Bad enough with Clea fell in love with one and wanted to adopt it."

"I warned you about sending messengers instead of coming yourself, Master."

"Stephen, please. Cripes, if anyone deserves to call me by name it's you. Not Master. Not Sorcerer Supreme, not— just Stephen."

Hermione laughed. "I can't help that you were so hung up on me calling you by your title that it traumatises me to call you by your name."

He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I was a right idiot about that. Can we just strike that from the collective memory of my younger years?"

"Feeling centuries old already?"

"Undoubtedly." He sipped contentedly on his refilled coffee. "I think you're the only one who can claim to have confronted Death at a young age and living to tell about it."

"I did not confront, Master," Hermione huffed. "Honestly. I invited him over to tea, gave him back his Hallows, and he then adopted me."

Strange gave her a long-suffering look. "Really, we're arguing semantics of how you effectively became immortal?"

"I did not intend to."

"Well I certainly didn't either," Strange protested. "Besides, Death was female to me, and she did not adopt me."

"I was cuter," Hermione said with a disarming shrug. "As I said, I just wanted to make sure no one got any ideas after the last Wizarding war, especially after Ronald wrote that ridiculous memoir about our supposed adventures and Harry allegedly being the Master of Death. Mind you, sorcery definitely helped with the finding of a stone buried under years of hoofbeats and various other natural weathering. Harry gave me the cloak after Ronald used it to cheat on Lavender, and the pieces of the broken wand were in an old eagle nest in the river canyon. After you sent me on that wild goose chase looking for your lost watch, finding a broken wand was easy."

"I'll have you know it was not a wild goose chase. You did find the watch."

Hermione sighed. "And about a hundred other artefacts that has Wong thinking I robbed some magical archive in Fifth Space."

Stephen snorted. "I unfortunately make him very suspicious. I used to steal books from his library using pocket dimensional holes."

"And you admonished me for reading too many books?"

"Yes, because you read far too many. What first month apprentice reads half the library before she even finishes her first classes?"

Hermione's hair-snakes hissed. "This gal."

Strange sighed. "I suppose if anyone can hold three jobs in the various universes it would be you."

Hermione smiled.

"So, in all seriousness," Strange said. "When are you going forgive Loki so we're not constantly fixing the architecture of the entire Nine Realms. If it were some normal even magical bloke, you know I wouldn't care, but this is Loki we're talking about. He never does anything small."

Hermione shook her head. "No, he doesn't. But, he accused me of being a harlot and a whore, spreading my legs as a courtesan in a vain attempt to sleep my way into Åsgard. Considering I have never even had the dubious pleasure of meeting the family in Åsgard, I can only presume that someone, somewhere led him to believe that I was less than faithful to him."

Hermione suddenly turned a little green and rushed to a small chest on the hearth. She opened it, took out a phial, uncorked it, sniffed it, and then chugged it, bracing herself on the fireplace as she waited. Her colour slowly returned to normal, and she looked less green.

Her head-snakes hissed worriedly, nudging her gently as their shimmering aether tongues flicked.

Strange's eyes widened. "How long?"

Hermione sighed, wiping her brow. "About three months." She stared out the window. "I can only presume it was just before all the accusations."

Doctor mode having successfully been engaged, Stephen beckoned her over and cast a few diagnostic spells over her. "Have any symptoms other than the nausea?"

"The nausea is quite enough, thank you," Hermione said, making a face.

"I know you make potions that consider your condition, but if you need anything at all—"

Hermione touched his hand. "Thank you, Stephen. I will certainly tell you if something happens."

The Sorcerer Supreme nodded. "I feel like I should grab him by the throat and shake some sense into him over some hellish dimension. Just out of principle."

Hermione laughed and then sobered. "If he can't see that he did anything wrong, then I don't want to see him back here. I will raise our— my— child alone. Without him."

Stephen clasped her hand. "Hermione, you need not raise the child alone. I will— hell, Wong loves children, it's scary how much he loves kids— so many of us would truly enjoy having a child around. Do not hold yourself apart from us like you're facing a prison sentence."

Hermione smiled. "Thanks. I won't. I guess I'm just— I thought I knew him. I thought— I meant something more than just…" She trailed off sadly. "I guess I should have known better."

Stephen stood up and sighed, "I have to go tend a rip in the Veil somewhere over Arkansas, but I promise I will be back to check on you."

"You don't—"

Stephen hushed her with a gentle finger. "I will. We will all be there for you in this, Hermione."

Hermione looked like she wanted to say something to dismiss him, but she sighed. "Thank you, Master."

"Stephen."

"Maphen."

Strange laughed. He tenderly placed a kiss on her head and then he vanished through a dimensional portal.

The mini quetzalcoatls hissed at her.

"Yes, I know, loves, bedtime."

The spiders already had her bed prepared, and her toothbrush was waiting there on the sink with the minty paste already applied.

Hermione touched the slight swell that was her belly. "Well, at least I'm not alone."

She marched her way to the sink to wash up for bed, waving one hand to extinguish the lanterns on her way.

Crookshanks yawned as he kneaded her pillow, waiting for his mistress to come to bed.

As Hermione stepped out to do her daily chores and feed the hippogriffs before they started to kick down the side of her cottage, she suddenly found herself face to muzzle with a gigantic wolf.

The wolf had the orneriest of the hippogriffs pinned by the neck, keeping him from taking his testosterone out on the side of her cottage again. The other hippogriffs milled about, looking decidedly less inclined to destructive kicking.

The wolf's tail beat against the ground, causing the flower planter on the window to jostle about.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Hermione asked in a slow drawl, admonishing herself mentally for sounding a bit too much like a Malfoy.

The wolf whined, tongue lolling as he smacked his paw over the hippogriff every time the stallion tried in vain to go for the wolf's face.

"You can let him up now. He knows better. If he goes for your eyes, just eat him."

The wolf perked at that and the hippogriff seemed to realise his bluff had been well and truly called.

The wolf let the hippogriff up, perhaps hoping for a morning snack, and the stallion shot off into the rest of the herd, hiding with his females.

The females didn't look very impressed, but they weren't trying to kick down her walls, either.

"Hrm, the other males are missing. Did you happen to show them the door?"

The wolf licked his chops.

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose. "Well, that's one way to end the rutt. I do hope you didn't eat the bay spotted one, though. He was a real pill. Probably give you a nasty case of indigestion."

The wolf beat his tail against the ground.

"You're quite huge, you know," Hermione said. She walked over to her huge garden and traced an arcane glyph in the air. A storm cloud formed overhead and drizzled over the vegetable and potions garden in a steady stream. She pulled out her wand and used Aguamenti to manually water her beloved collection of English roses.

The mini-quetzals came out and shook their feathered manes as she watered their roses. They opened their mouths to catch the water and flew off to frolic in the garden.

Hermione chuckled.

The wolf whined, his warm, wet nose snuffling her hair.

The aethreal serpents rose up and snapped at his muzzle, unimpressed with introductions.

Hermione put up her wand and looked the wolf in the eyes. "What am I going to do with you?"

The giant wolf panted good-naturedly and gave her an extra long slurp.

Hermione dripped and conjured herself a towel. "I'm naming you Sir Drippy. Sid for short."

The wolf cocked his head and tail wagged.

"You wouldn't happen to be able to make yourself smaller, hrm?"

Sid seemed to frown in concentration. His body pulled into itself and the giant wolf became a adorable and fluffy little wolf pup.

Hermione picked Sid up. "Awwww, you're so adorable."

Whuft!

Sid wagged his tail in approval as she carried him into the house with her.

Hermione boggled as Sid proudly presented her with a supposedly extinct auroch. She hadn't seen him as much as made an educated guess due to the distinctive tooth marks around the body of the huge ox.

"Erm," Hermione said, staring down at the huge animal. "Thanks?"

Sid lay on his back, begging for belly rubs.

Hermione picked up Sid and snuggled him close.

Hermione frowned as she realised she was out of black pearl powder.

"Bother," she muttered.

She picked up her collecting basket and trudged out the door of her cottage and ran face first into Harry Potter.

"Oof," Harry exclaimed, trying very hard not to fall on his arse.

"Oh! Harry! Did I mix up the days for our tea?"

Harry blinked. "No."

Hermione tilted her head. She quickly checked on the roasting ox over the spit. The mini quetzals were happily and dutifully both turning the spit for her as the scent of fragrant roasting meat filled the area. . She pet them appreciatively and they hummed back to her.

"Oh, well, hello, then," she sputtered. She tossed him an sea gathering basket-cage and beckoned. "Here, come and make yourself useful then. I'm completely out of black pearl powder."

Before Harry could say otherwise, Hermione walked down the path to the beach where the lagoon opened out to the sea.

Harry followed, getting practically bowled over by a wolf that followed behind Hermione like a loyal hound.

"Uh, Hermione?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"When did you get a wolf?"

"Oh last month," she replied. "He just, uh— showed up one day."

"Oh," Harry said, seeming a little at a loss for words. "Aren't you a little worried about that?" He stared at the herd of huge oxen milling about as they chewed on the lush beach grass. Weren't those… extinct?

"He's quite well behaved," Hermione said. "And he fetches me various extinct species. It's quite nice. The dodo birds are over on the other cliff, working on repopulating their species."

Harry's eyebrow twitched.

Hermione performed a complex tracing as a magic circle moved up from the ground and over her and back down. Her clothes changed into a Muggle wetsuit, and she dove into the water. "Hurry up, Harry. The best ones are found during the high tide." She turned into a sea otter and promptly dove under the water.

"Damnit, Hermione, I'm a stag not a water mammal!" Harry said, pointing his wand at himself as he changed his robes into swimming trunks and putting a bubble-head charm over his head. He dove in after her.

Hermione's seeded oyster bed had grown by leaps and bounds, and she had not neglected the gillyweed, either. Harry grabbed some as he passed, stuffing it in his mouth. He sighed with relief as he was able to dispel the bubble-head charm and swim more naturally under the tides.

He saw Hermione moving around, using a stone to chip the oysters off the bed. She stuffed them into her otter-pockets and then went up to the surface, stuffing the oysters into the baskets the wolf was holding as he paddled about in the kelp forest.

Harry continued to use his wand to scan the bed the wizard-way and stuffed his basket with pearl-laden oysters. He found it oddly soothing being under the water, and he admitted to himself that maybe Luna had been right about finding peace amongst the water-dwelling Zembukratiens. He had no idea what those were, but they supposedly lived in the ocean and emitted relaxing vibes when under water— hence why people found it relaxing to be in water.

That didn't quite explain why some people were terrified of being in the ocean, but— at least it made some sense.

An otter whizzed by Harry's head, making a series of chittering squeaks as she passed by. Her webbed feet ruffled his hair just before her long tail smacked up against his cheek.

Harry spluttered and swam up to the surface to find himself staring at the head of the largest sea serpent he had ever seen in his life— or rather said serpents rows of many, many teeth.

SKRONK!

Harry yelped as his magic twisted to his panic and will and he suddenly became a sea lion with a black mop-like fro on his head.

"I think I'm starting to see a pattern here," Hermione's voice reached Harry. He looked up to see Hermione floating in the air with her legs crossed. She had her hands in a meditative stance as magic runic circles swirled around her.

Sorceress.

Damn if she wasn't more intimidating now than she had ever been before. Ron might've turned out to be an unmitigated arse but he did say it first: Hermione was brilliant, but scary. Very scary.

"Thank you for the Megalodon, but before I accept it, I want to make one thing clear. Are you here on Loki's orders or to help him in any way?"

Harry stared as the giant serpent rose up and tilted its great head, waves of ocean water sliding off its smooth hide.

A giant— no gargantuan— wolf browled from the shore, his tail wagging madly.

Holy f— Harry half-bleated in seal-ese.

The great serpent lightly pressed its nose against Hermione's abdomen, most of its body still hidden in the waves. Its tongue flicked reverently.

We are here for you, Lady Hermione, Harry heard the creature's voice in his head— almost painfully clear. The voice was undoubtedly male, and it seemed to echo the sound of countless screams.

"And if Loki were to show up, would that change?"

The serpent and the wolf exchanged glances. It would not. Our father is great but insecure. We are not insecure. We will stay at your side until the Realms are long cold and the Cosmos is ash and memory."

"That is a very long time," Hermione said, strangely nonplussed about speaking to a giant serpent and an equally giant wolf.

We will stay at your side as the skies burn. We will stay at your side even as Ragnarök falls upon us. We will protect you and only you. We will serve you and only you. This we swear.

The serpent's many, many rows of teeth glinted blindingly, and Harry was ready to flee in any given direction and not stop until he ended on some distant peaceful shore.

Hermione floated silently, standing as she did so. She gently pressed her head to the serpent's nostrils and breathed into them, sharing her breath with his. "And what would you ask of me?"

Trust us as no other has trusted us, the serpent said.

Trust us as no God has ever trusted us, the wolf said at the same time.

And we shall serve you unto death or the end of all things, they said together.

Harry watched as Hermione landed on the shore next to the giant wolf. The wolf was larger than life— larger than anything that should ever be able to walk the Earth and not be dragged down by the force of gravity.

The wolf lowered its head and opened its mouth.

Hermione put her arm in as the wolf's jaws clamped shut.

"NO!" Harry yelled, mustering his courage as he leapt from the water, his magic forcing him back into human form. He had his wand in his hand, and he threw spells at the wolf, convinced that his naive Hermione had just allowed a myth to devour her one bite at a time.

His spells hit a barrier, and Harry gasped when he realised Hermione herself had erected it. Her free hand was splayed outwards, forcing the barrier between Harry and the wolf. Her other hand, caught between the wolf's jaws, turned as black as char as the wolf's saliva stained her hand with its own primordial magic. Blackness as dense as ink trailed up her arm and shaped into the twisting, knot-like pattern of swirls and knots and the gaping maw of World Wolf. The wolf's eyes glowed an eerie green and blue, alternating between the two colours of balefire, the inner pupil a radiant orange-yellow of the sun.

Flfffffllop!

Hermione had a happy wolf pup in her arms, and she snuggled him closely, burying her face into his fluffy fur. The ink spread down her body taking up half of her all the way down to her toes.

"Hello, Fenrir," she said warmly. "I hope you don't mind if I still call you Sid."

She set the pup down and walked to the edge of the beach, raising her arms up to the great serpent—

And his jaws crashed down upon her, devouring her whole.

Harry was just about to come completely unglued when Luna showed up, paddling a kayak out into the ocean. "I wouldn't worry so much, Harry. Consider it kind of a hug— only with the mouth."

Harry twitched, then yelped, "Luna, get out of the ocean now! It's dangerous!"

"Don't be silly, love. I'm wearing a perfectly fine pair of galoshes."

Harry frowned.

The serpent opened his mouth, and Hermione walked out of it and onto shore. The entire other side of her body was covered in more knotwork, this time depicting the serpent. "Try not to panic Harry too much, Jörmungandr," she said as she placed her hand on his snout. "He's had a pretty rough morning."

The great serpent hissed laughter and dove back under the waves, disappearing from sight but not from mind.

Luna paddled back to the shore. "Did you get your black pearls, Hermione? I'm feeling rather parched and would really like to have a cup of tea and some lunch, perhaps even both at the same time."

Hermione chuckled gave Luna a hug. "Tea and lunch it is then," she said, using an intricate gesture and chain of strange sounds to send the cages flying up to the cottage.

Sid went bolting off after them with clear enthusiasm, his tail waving like a flag.

"Do I get to help you decorate the baby's room?" Luna asked casually. "I know some great designs created to keep out Nargles and other pests."

Hermione chuckle-snorted. "Of course, Luna.

Harry, who had just crawled his way back to semi- coherency, fell back into the sand in shock.

"Baby?!"

A crab crawled up on his face and pinched his nose.

"OW!"

"What are you doing here, Supreme Pistachio?" Stark declared more than asked.

Dr Strange raised an eyebrow. "This is a public park, Mr Stark. Unless something bizarre has happened throughout the country, that means anyone is welcome."

"Well, what do you want from us normal folks?" Tony asked, sipping his coffee.

Tony winced as a hand came out of nowhere and smacked him upside the head.

"Tony," Pepper said evenly. "You're out in public. That means you have to try and pretend to be civil."

Stark, catching "the tone", winced and sighed. "Thor is over there, trying to figure out if the koi strip the flesh off bone like the fish back home in Aswarta."

"Åsgard?"

"Whatever."

"Miss Potts," Stephen said, nodding his head.

Pepper gave him her best smile. "Doctor Strange."

Stephen shook his head and walked toward the pond, ignoring Pepper repeatedly smacking Tony's shoulder in reprimand.

Stephen walked over to where Thor was staring into the fish pond with a severe look of concentration.

"Why do these fish not strip the meat off the quacking birds?"

Strange frowned. "They are not piranha of Earth or the infamous Pira of Åsgard," he replied.

The ducks and geese milled about, hoping for food. The colourful koi did the same.

Strange conjured a bag of heavily seeded multi-grain bread and tossed it out for the birds, making sure to throw some over to Thor. Thor, however, didn't know what to do with it, and ended up with bread and excited waterfowl swarming him.

Stephen rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"Thor, if you have a moment, I would like to speak with you on a matter of mutual interest."

"You wish to hunt Magma dragons with me?"

"Erm, no."

"Smash the skulls of attacking Ettin?"

"I'll pass."

"Get rip-roaringly drunk while telling epic tales of our mutual exploits in heroism?"

Stephen rubbed his head. "Not quite."

Thor's eyes widened. "You wish to watch me make love to my most beautiful Jane?"

"No!" Strange blurted. "No, no, and no!"

Thor looked at him curiously through his newly-acquired mane of hungry waterfowl. "Do tell. Those would be my first topics of interest."

Stephen sighed. "Look, how serious was Loki with Hermione?"

Thor sobered immediately. "I had never seen him so serious about anything."

"And then one day he was blowing up bridges across the world."

"I can only presume that she found him lacking in some way," Thor said thoughtfully. "Jane says this is normal. I do not quite understand it, but she seems to think it makes it easier to relate to me. My brother, however, would not take being found lacking in any way very well."

Strange frowned. "No, I mean—" He tugged at his collar, and his levitation cloak smacked his face. "If he was truly as serious as you say, why would he just have a temper tantrum all across Earth?"

Thor rubbed his chin. A goose honked from atop his head. "The only thing greater than my brother's belief in his personal superiority is his insecurity. It is a strange thing that I have only begun to see clearly. It is not that he is not talented. He has always been— thinky. He broods over skill and plans. He values a plot over a good sword." Thor seemed thoughtful. "I can only imagine that he found some great insult in something, whether it be true or not, and then could not let it go. He did this for my father's sins, thinking that he withheld the truth of his birth to make him less my brother. We still fight over such things. He thinks All-Father never intended my brother to have power because of his birth, but I believe it has more to do with what he does with the power that he has."

Thor removed the goose from his head only to have a duckling take its place. "I once abused my power too, thinking myself entitled to the throne. This did not help our relationship. It only proved his assumptions. Now, I do not want the throne, yet I must come to terms that it will be mine, eventually."

Strange furrowed his brows. "What does your family think of Hermione?"

Thor scowled. "She is strong, powerful. She, like Jane, has an indomitable will. But, power means nothing to Åsgard if it is fleeting. We measure our lives in thousands. Humans are but a raindrop to our ocean. That is all my father sees. He wishes Jane to take the test of godhood to prove her worth. He does not understand that I did not fall for Jane because I wanted her to be a goddess."

"But what of the others?"

Thor looked up, perhaps searching for answers. The duckling flapped off to land in the pond.

"Heimdall is neutral in most things. All-Father probably knows. He makes it his business to know, especially when the last year had been positively peaceful in comparison. That makes him more suspicious. Mother, I am not sure. She tends to keep her opinions to herself."

"So more are in the know, but they pretend they do not," Strange said. "How backwards."

"To admit Hermione that is significant is to defy All-Father's belief that Midgardians are only fit to be guided and protected. They cannot share the same table."

"Because of a lifespan, truly?" Strange asked, boggling.

"Father accused Jane of being a goat at the table."

"Wow." Stephen shook his head. "So they truly have no idea."

Thor tilted his head. "About?"

Strange's expression hardened. "Hermione is a witch, which already increased her lifespan. She is also a sorceress, which upon confronting Death, could have given her ageless immortality—"

"Could have?"

"Death took a shine to her and adopted her. She is of his Get. She will exist as long as Death exists."

"How is that—"

"Are you telling me you'd question Death about what It can or cannot do?"

Thor's brows furrowed. "I suppose not, but we are accustomed to two places as Asgardians: Valhalla for the brave mortals who die like heroes and Hel in Helheim for those who died of illness, old age, or lack of bravery. When All-Father cast Hel into the underworld, she made it her own realm, making herself queen of the dead. To many, she is Death."

Stephen read between the lines. "But she is not."

"Few who would face her would say so to her face, even the brave, for she carved her place into the underworld herself."

Thor looked at Strange as an epiphany crawled into his thoughts. "You think someone who did not know of Lady Hermione's true Lineage may have been attempting to drive a wedge between her and my brother?"

"It is a logical presumption. If one either wished for him to pick a more 'worthy' individual or sow chaos, it could all be done via the same tactic."

Thor frowned.

"My brother claimed that Lady Hermione had made herself a whore to Åsgard," Thor said. "I thought— it was just the anger talking. I never actually believed she would sleep with another."

"Yet, he believes she has?"

Thor nodded grimly. "Somehow, he had reason to believe that Lady Hermione was not faithful to him. Father is much too forward to result to trickery. Mother would never do harm to any potential grandchild. Heimdall is allergic to drama of any kind. It must be someone outside Åsgard or—"

Thor frowned. "Or someone inside Åsgard with grudge."

"And how many of Åsgard would wish harm upon your brother?"

Thor's expression sobered. "Almost everyone."

Strange scowled. "Well, that isn't exactly helpful."

Hermione frowned as she found the bloody and beaten body of a giant dog in her garden, having been pulverised by angry, angry hippogriffs, spat upon by venomous mini-quetzalcoatls, trampled by Aurochs, envenomated by a giant world-serpent, and mauled by a very unimpressed world-wolf.

The great dog was black as pitch with only crimson rivers to mark the contours of its body. The dark fur was matted and dirty with neglect, whether by self or another's hand, Hermione wasn't quite sure. Even without the various attacks against it, scars criss-crossed the dog's body as a testament to a very hard life.

When she tried to approach, the dog growled and snapped, trying to get her between its massive jaws, but the very action was clearly agony.

"So, I suppose it was about time for an attack," Hermione mused, sighing as she looked over the latest arrival. She looked over to Sid, who was currently in pup-form and looking cute, adorable, harmless and totally not I-just-trounced-your-attacker-and-handed-it-their-face.

Hermione cast a low-grade diagnostic scan over the injured canine and realised it was amazing that the dog could move at all.

"Easy now, I can't help you if you get all squirmy on me." She called upon the Principalities to create a binding circle— one of her Master's favourite tools. At least, she figured, if things went pear-shaped, at least a giant murderous canine wouldn't be free to roam the Earth.

She reached out to start a pain-numbing spell.

SNAP!

The dog's jaws crushed down upon her outstretched arm, the harsh sound of enamel on bone sent a disturbing resonance through the garden.

Sid looked up, his ears pinned back and teeth bared.

But Hermione hadn't moved. She stood there as her flesh seemed to rot away, turning black and peeling off, exposing bleached white bones underneath. Her eyes sank into the sockets as the skin pulled back across her skull, showing a disturbing half-skull snarl. Thin flesh pulled back from eerily unnatural teeth that seemed more beast than human. A dark cloud of vapour poofed from between her jaws.

"Are you quite through?" Hermione's voice hissed from the skull-face. "If you are out for blood, I fear I have none to offer but dust and bones." The thin coating of flesh and skin seemed to dissolve away from around her already horrific visage, and only the bones remained. Golden suns glowed from inside the eye sockets. "You see, the Sorcerer Supreme of Earth calls upon the Principalities, something he taught me during our apprenticeship together, but I went and did something unheard of. I sought out Death. Now, before you get all snarly, no, I was not seeking my own. I had something of His that He had been searching for. I gave them back. For this service, He asked if there was anything I desired."

Hermione clenched her bone hands as a glowing green fire spread across her body. "I asked for only one thing— that He leave in peace with His Hallows." Hermione's skull-face twisted into an eerie smile, made all the more so by the fact it was bone twisting and reforming to make the expression. "I did not know this at the time, but every Realm has a Sorcerer Supreme— one who safeguards the Realm to which they are irrevocably tied. I had tied myself to the Realm of Death— in touching all of His Objects, they left an indelible Mark upon me. So He adopted me, taking me to his breast and made me kin that I may call upon His Principality— death— for only those of Death may call upon Death, and only those of His Get may pass from His Domain to others without finding themselves unable to leave without His blessing."

"Now, I'm sure you're wondering why I'm yammering on so— but let's just say you just took a bite out of one of Death's Get, hrm? I'm sure one such as you can piece together what that means for you? I can send you back to your master as a pile of bones, or we can have a discussion like the kind of civilised not-quite human entities that we both seem to be."

The canine's eyes were very wide, ears pinned to their head. It released her arm and cowered, tail tuckrf between the legs and both neck and belly exposed in unmistakable surrender.

Hermione knelt beside the great dog and placed her bone hands on its body. Flesh formed around the bones once more, bringing a less supernatural appearance to what was once unmistakably Death.

Serve you. Serve. You. Mistress. Take me. Take me. Forever. Serve you!

The stream of meaning rather than words formed into a coherent stream from the canine.

Hermione's hands touched the dog's muzzle. "To serve me is forever. I would not ask that of you in duress."

Forever. Yes! Mistress. Please?

"If that is what you truly wish, then give me your true name."

Garmr. The name was clear as a bell. I am yours.

Hermione gently stroked the great canine's head. "Rest now, Garmr."

The dog exhaled with such profound relief that a strong wind seemed to blow outward from her maw. Its— her— tail slowly thumped against the ground.

Yes. Relief. At last! A rush of binding heat and magic bound the hound to Hermione with mutual agreement.

Hermione released the binding circle and sighed as Sid head-bumped under her hand and snuggled her.

Browl!

"I love you too, Sid," she said quietly. "Thank you for not killing her."

Sid wagged his tail, always happy to serve.

Hermione placed a hand on her ever-growing belly and sighed. "Now if I could only get some quality sleep."

A lone figure walked along the Bifröst, unchallenged save for one.

Heimdall ran towards the figure, his sword out and golden eyes blazing only for him to see— really see— exactly what he was running towards.

Heimdall screeched to a halt, his dark face abruptly paling.

Though he towered over the intruder, Heimdall did not look reassured in the slightest.

The lone figure turned, its face shadowed by an inky black hood.

"L-Lord Death," Heimdall stammered in a shocked, reverent whisper. "I was not told to expect you." Heimdall seemed confused as to the spectre's unexpected appearance.

"Actions have summoned me here, Heimdall," Death's velvet voice replied as parts of his skull-face— part-beast and part-humanoid— gleamed with the colours of the reflected Bifröst. "An attack against my Get is grounds for war."

Heimdall swallowed hard. "I can assure you, my Lord, that no one that I know of has spoken of any actions against you."

Death's skull-face gleamed, his jaws parting to expose jagged teeth. "I do not take kindly to my daughter being called a whore."

Heimdall paled, even more than he had previous. "I will take you to All-Father."

Death's face shimmered with the shifting light of the Bifröst. "After you."

Heimdall led the way, a look of consternation on his face.

"I assure you, Lord Death," Odin said, visibly discomfited. "At no point did we intend insult to you or any of your Get." All-Father seemed slightly disturbed by the the term Get over family, perhaps thinking that made it sound less civilised. Yet, who was he to challenge Death on the terms he gave his family—

"She does belong here in Åsgard and is certainly not a goat at the banquet table," Death quoted, his eye flames flickering crimson.

Odin flinched. "That comment was not made to your daughter, Lord Death."

"No, but it was thrown to all those of Miðgarðr, wasn't it, All-Father?" Death's speech slipped into ancient Norse, slid into modern speech, and then into Åsgardian so smoothly that it hard to determine what he had started with and what he ended with. "In that moment, you cared not of who Jane Foster was, only that she was unfit— unworthy of your son and your family. In so doing, you insulted all those born of Miðgarðr— where my beloved daughter happens to make her home."

"Your daughter is Midgardian in origin?"

Death's face seemed to deepen with shadow. "Do you find it so hard to believe that Death would find those worthy to be called kin amongst the denizens of Miðgarðr? Do you think the very Realm that brought humility and temperament to your sons is now, having served your purpose, somehow become lesser in your regard?"

Odin's hand clenched as he bit back his normal response.

"Perhaps, you think one of the other Realms more deserving, other universes, other planets— any planets— but Miðgarðr, hrm?" Death waved his hand. "It is neither here nor there, All-Father. What matters is that my daughter is preparing to welcome my grandson without a father because the father believes her to be a whore. Somehow, someway, he seemed to take it into his head that she was in Åsgard— spreading her legs to your court. Tell me then, where does the ball lie? I know well that she was never here."

Death's aura shifted darkly. "How then would her then-suitor think she was? How then would he have no support from his family that he must go and bring many more to my fold by destroying scores of innocent bridges in a number of highly populated areas?"

"Neither of my sons were courting—"

Frigga silenced Odin with a look.

Odin's one eye widened. "It can't be. Loki was infatuated with a mortal?"

"Technically," Death allowed, casually dipping his hand into the Pira pool and watching the fish poke at his skeletal fingers with confusion. "He was infatuated with an immortal sorceress, as ageless as I."

Odin and Frigga exchanged worried glances with each other, neither wishing to bring war to Åsgard— especially against one such as Death, who reigned as the great equaliser in every war.

Frigga, concerned, stood. "Please, Lord Death. Who is the one Loki that saw here at Åsgard?"

"It may not even be Loki!" Odin said.

"You think our other son would have a wandering gaze? Where do you think our Loki has been since he has not been here or anywhere else causing chaos and destruction up until recently?"

Frigga's frustration materialised as an entire school of confused Pira, who dropped from the sky into the pond. The pond was a flood of grey and red fish, all flopping frantically around with nowhere else to go.

Death eyed the toothy fish and gestured idly with his hand, causing the fountain to expand into a sizable pond. The fish settled, at once, instantly looking more pretty and less carnivorous.

Death waved his skeletal hand again, and a cloud solidified into a crystal clear vision of a pregnant young woman. A man dressed in sorcerer's regalia was helping expand the home she was living in. A young wizard with a mop of black hair was waving a wand, moving the fences over and making a number of feeding troughs. A young blonde witch flitted about throwing around a basket of seeds, and the moment they landed they grew into a lush carpet of colourful wildflowers and grass.

The pregnant woman laughed as Jörmungandr gifted her with a huge tuna, and the Suneater Fenrir and the hellhound Garmr worked in tandem, helping to drag the fish further up the beach.

"Thank you, Jörmungandr," the woman laughed, reaching her hands up to take the serpent's nose in her arms and place her head against his nostrils. His tongue flicked gently, poking her in the side.

She cast a magic circle, and the tuna rose up off the ground. A black-haired wizard used his wand to slice it from nose to tail and release the guts, as the woman used a gesture to send the scales flying in random directions. Garmr frolicked in the impromptu scale shower, snapping at them with her tail wagging vigorously.

The sorcerer set up a spit and bound the fish to it after stuffing it with lemon and fresh-picked herbs, then set up a spell to turn the spit automatically. Garmr belched fire into the wood under the fish, and it immediately came to life, cooking and smoking the great tuna.

The blond-haired witch brought over a giant basket of greens. "I've got the salad, Hermione!" she said. "I even convinced the hiccuping tomato patch to give you some pearl tomatoes!"

"Thanks, Luna," Hermione said, laughing. "Sid, kindly put that Auroch down. We all have to wait for dinner."

The wolf whinged and spat out the irritated Auroch. The ox tried to kick the wolf in the head, but the wolf dodged, tongue lolling, utterly unimpressed.

"You guys don't have to wait over me," Hermione protested. "I can do this by myself."

"Rubbish," the black-haired wizard scoffed. "Hermione, you've been doing so much for everyone for gods only know how long. It's about time we did things for you, even if we do have to build our own guest rooms to stay in until the baby comes. Even then, with more of us around, we can all help take care of the wee one with you. Your sorry git— sorry, Hermione, but he broke your heart, left you pregnant, called you a whore and took off— didn't have the decency or respect to stay with you, well if that's what a god does, then he can go somewhere else for prayers."

"Not sure he's a prayer kind god, Harry," Hermione sighed, rubbing her head.

"Why couldn't you have attracted the God of Knowledge or someone more— I dunno— bookish?"

"Harry James Potter!"

Harry ducked behind a haystack, chuckling. "Sorry, sorry, can't help it!"

Luna peered up at the sorcerer. "Sorcerer Supreme, eh? Does that make you marvelous or matchless? If you are matchless, is that because you do things strangely or because no one can do the things you can do?"

"Erm…" the black haired man with a white streak in his hair said. "It's just a title."

"Oh, here I was thinking that maybe you were peerless in bed or something." Luna skipped away, carrying her basket of salad greens, leaving the Sorcerer Supreme looking quite flustered with a side of mighty baffled.

"Stephen," Hermione said with a laugh. "Could you help me with the warding spells? I'd do them myself but I believe you promised to beat me within inches of my unlife if I tried to cast them while pregnant."

The Sorcerer Supreme laughed. "No problem." He performed an intricate hand gesture while incanting something long and complex in another language. The wards went up with a whoosh, making Fenrir's and Garmr's fur stand on end.

Hermione held up a large fish wrapped in fragrant herbs. "Here you go, Jörmungandr. Your favourite herb-crusted salmon with lemon." She threw it up in the air and used magic to propel it up and enlarge it at the same time.

"Engorgio!" she yelled, pointing her wand at it.

The salmon grew to the size of a semi-truck, and Jörmungandr snapped it up with a clack of his fangs, tongue flicking in sincere appreciation.

"You're welcome, love," Hermione laughed, giving him a fond pat on the snout.

Jörmungandr set his great head on the beach next to the expanded cottage, tongue flicking as he watched the goings-on with a relaxed air about him.

"Is Clea coming to dinner, Stephen?" Hermione asked.

"She's busy holding together the Dark Dimension with duct tape, chewing gum, and a prayer."

Hermione's eyebrow raised. "Somehow I imagined it to be rather more sophisticated than that."

"Spellotape and Drooble's best blowing gum?" he suggested.

"Must be," Hermione said with an easy shrug. "Well, I sent Wong a message. Maybe he'll show up, then."

"Wong never misses a chance for free food not cooked by me."

"Is this your way of saying you're on dish duty?"

"Apparently."

Hermione grinned. "Luna, is Xenophilius coming?"

"He said he'd come after he's done checking the traps for Crumple-Horned Snorkacks."

Hermione sighed. "That could be minutes, hours, or weeks."

Stephen shrugged. "Don't look at me, I'm just a sorcerer."

Hermione winced, touching her abdomen.

"Are you alright?" Strange quickly went to her side.

"I'm fine. They seem a bit excitable today." She pulled his hand to her abdomen.

"Oh!" Stephen exclaimed, his eyes going wide. "That was quite a kick!"

Hermione grinned. "A few. He or she's going to be a ninja or a kickboxer, I think."

Harry came up, smirking. "Quidditch All-Star for sure."

"No!" Hermione said. "I will take him or her out of the world if they even have a hint of Quidditch in them."

Harry pouted.

"You are no fun at all, Hermione."

"I am anti-fun; that's me."

There was a yell, and Hermione and Stephen ran around the cottage to find Harry buried up to his neck in sand and no one else about.

"Ant lion?" Hermione asked.

Stephen stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Sand wolf."

Hermione looked over to where Sid was lying on his back, feet up in the air as he rolled in the sand.

"Guess I better set the table," she laughed softly. "Minerva might be stopping in to pester me endlessly."

"She cares for you too," Strange said, chuckling.

"It's odd, I thought when he left— I'd be all alone." She looked sombre, resigned.

"Nope, not going to happen," Stephen said, putting his arm around her.

"A little help here," Harry whinged.

Hermione looked like she was about to help.

"Nope! No magic unless absolutely necessary or exceedingly minor in nature," Stephen protested. "You have magical people all around you to do it for you."

"But—"

Stephen gave her the eye.

"Yes, Master."

Stephen grinned at her, not bothering to correct her this time. He gave a whistle and Garmr came bounding up and dug Harry out— accidentally Pdigging him up and flinging him into another bank of sand.

Hermione winced. "Erm… good dog?" she said, albeit unconvincingly.

Garmr wagged her tail.

"Only you, Hermione. When most sorcerers and sorceresses gain familiars, they usually stop at one."

The aether serpents in her hair hissed to each other and then hissed at Stephen.

"I rest my case," he said with a laugh.

When they got to the table, a clutter of hyperactive, obnoxiously cute, fluffy spiders had it all set and decorated with fresh flowers and seashells.

"We decorated!"

"We're the best!"

"Yup!"

"Job's done!"

"Polished the silver too!"

"We're so talented!"

They scurried off the table and disappeared with a poof.

Stephen just shook his head. "I give up. You are truly the Sorceress Supreme."

Hermione laughed. "Only for the realm of my father," she said with a warm smile. "I invited him to dinner, but he might be too occupied if Loki is still out there— bringing down bridges all over the place."

Hermione ignited the mosquito torches the Muggle way using matches and smiled as Harry looked at her like she'd grown a second head.

"How's the tuna coming?" Hermione asked.

Harry poked the fish with the end of his wand. "Almost done, thanks to hellfire."

"See? Hellfire is useful!" Hermione laughed.

Garmr whuffed, tail wagging.

Hermione touched the empty places on the table for Xenophilius, Minerva, her father, and Loki.

"You set a place for him often enough that the spiders do it too?" Stephen asked quietly.

Hermione made a face, wiping moisture from her eyes. "We were so happy— and I was such an idiot for thinking he actually loved me."

"Oh, Hermione," Stephen said. "There may still be a chance he was tricked into thinking you were less than faithful to him."

Hermione's expression hardened. "But he didn't ask, Stephen. He just took it, threw it in my face, and left. He didn't even care enough to ask me for my side of the story."

Stephen pulled her into an embrace. "Hey, stop that. No crying. No crying on the sorcerer's robes. Come on now." He rubbed her back. "We males are pretty dumb creatures, Hermione. We often don't see what is right in front of us even when we see so much around us, if we're lucky. When it comes to females, our brains go on holiday. Sometimes we fall so hard we just can't stop. We're on top of the world— and then something happens to make us doubt. Then we self-flagellate ourselves before we can see even reason. Then we're mad because we did. Then we're even more mad that we didn't think first. Then, we're too damn embarrassed to simply admit we were wrong in the first place."

Hermione sniffled. "Males aren't the only ones who lose all power of thought over a potential mate."

"You better not be talking about Ginny, Hermione!" Harry blurted.

"You at least fixed that problem!" Hermione retorted.

"Well, I liked that positive outcome," Luna said. "Harry is rather stunning full monty. I don't complain about the sex either."

"Biased," Hermione said, waving her hand.

"LUNA!" Harry yelped, his face flushing beet red.

Luna, nonplussed, dished out the green salad dressed with a glorious pomegranate vinaigrette

Hermione put out the feeding bowls for Fenrir and Garmr. One said "I once bit a sun and I liked it" and the other "Red Hot Mama". She pulled out a small bundle of meat and put one in each bowl then tapped the bowls with her wand.

"Engorgio."

The bowls and the meat became equally huge, and the wolf and hellhound happily dug in, their tails wagging furiously.

"Still hungry, Jörmungandr?"

The serpent tongue flicked but shook his head no.

Hermione smiled, giving his scales a fond pat and sat down at the table.

Just as they were about to eat, Xenophilius stumbled in with a large caterpillar curled up on his head.

"Is that— smoking a hookah?" Stephen whispered, boggling.

Hermione just waved at him not to ask.

"Have a seat, Xenophilius," Hermione invited. "You're just in time for dinner."

End of Chapter One

A/N: Brrrr… it's cold outside. Jotunheim has come to visit. I'll be under my duvet, hibernating in-between classes.