See chapter one for warnings and summaries.

PREVIOUSLY: Loki decides to hide on Midguard, in Hogwarts, with his children under the guise of Lori Aldricson, a female DADA professor. The children are then sorted at the welcoming feast. Hela to Ravenclaw, Seth to Hufflepuff, Joren to Slytherin and Fenrir to Gryffindor. They are all retired to their respective houses for the night, when Lori notices Hela having a nightmare.

NOTE: Luna is a second-year, for this fic.

Hela has never dreamt well.

Lori knows this. Has known this. Doesn't want to acknowledge, truly, that it is something his precious little girl will never outgrow. Fates have marked her, after all and she knows the curse that a Trickster's existence carries.

Still, she can offer some semblance of comfort—in spite of the distance between them.

So, she draws herself up, and settles, as carefully as she can, on the bed, stretching out her aura to touch hers as softly as she can dare. She cannot interrupt this. She cannot interfere. She would never interfere here.

It is Hela's right after all. Hela, Queen of the Dead. She must judge the tormented souls that have come to her doorstep seeking sanctuary. In exchange for her current waking hours above ground, she must spend the second half of her day, submerged in the slumber of her undead half, attending to the royal duties that are solely hers.

Some deserve mercy, some do not. Others are caught in the midst of such important decisions and Queen as she is, Hela must decide.

The consequences for handing out such judgments however are only through the rituals of magic that demands she fully understands the emotions and circumstances that have brought the soul into her care.

Hence the nightmares.

So Lori sits and waits and watches.

As she always will.

For she has only ever had one daughter survive this long.

She tries not to think of the others. Of beautiful bright sparks that burned out too quickly. Of a lover-turned-wife that was taken before he'd even the chance to tell her how proud he was of what they'd made together.

A single strand of happiness that had been snuffed out before it'd even come fully into existence. Odin has much to answer for. It pains him to think of his children who will never know the brave women who were proud to bear them. The beautiful creatures that saw Loki, the god of the Hearth and not merely, Loki, Wretched Trickster of Asgard.

The night grows long, stretching outward until the dawn.

And silently, Lori waits. She is tired in a way that she did not expect.

Perhaps there will be nothing wrong with just resting for a bit. After all, it is the night and Hela is alright for now. As is the rest of her brood.

"…Lady Hogwarts?" Lori calls out, her voice tired. "May I ask for your protection in all the rooms?"

The answering pulse of golden energy washed through the warmth with a mixture of every beautiful, heart-warming shade of emotion that can be shared through magic. It is a powerful thing that only gifts, asking nothing in return.

Lori smiles. "I take it, that is a yes? Thank you."

Curling up on the armchair, Lori counts her breaths until her mind is settled enough to allow the slight drop in consciousness that she calls sleep. Yes, she will need to rest, but for now…

Loki stirs, faintly, feeling a small, cool body snuggled tightly in his arms. His magic is content and present all around him, and the scent is familiar. A bit watery and a little magical. Almost like Joren.

It takes a half-second to confirm that it is indeed, his darling Joren who is curled up beside him shivering from the cold. Loki rouses himself enough to take note of his surroundings. The walls are vaguely familiar, but he thought he'd last been in Hela's rooms. This looks a lot like his personal quarters. He didn't even notice when his transformation had slipped from Lori to Loki.

Ah. He is definitely more comfortable in his own skin, but his control is unpredictable it seems, as he has been better had holding forms for longer periods of time. A yawn escapes and Loki pulls Joren closer to him, a half-mumbled warming spell raising the temperature of the room.

He is back in his quarters, he knows that much. The last thing he can remember, is standing patiently behind Hela's throne, listening to another one of her heart-stopping reviews from the nightly procession of the dead. He was lending her his presence, to offer some semblance of comfort as she worked her way through each individual case. It eases her nightmares to have him close at hand and so he hadn't hesitated to come to her side, even if all he could do was simply be there for her.

His last conscious memory was asking Hogwarts to protect him and—! Loki sits bolt upright, Joren clutched to him in a panic. It takes a full minute to calm down, when he realizes what has happened. He's been moved back to his room and settled outside the bedroom, near the fireplace. He isn't alone either. They are all here with him.

All four of his children.

Fenris curled up at his feet, in his wolf form. Seth sprawled out on the floor beside him, half-covered by a borrowed blanket from somewhere. Hela seems as if she's only just arriving, yawning as she stumbles her way through the room, heading straight for them.

"Father…" she says, drowsily. "It's cold in here."

"I am sorry, my darling," Loki says in a daze. If his magic wasn't so steady, he would think that he was dreaming such a moment. "It will warm in a minute. Come."

He is more awake now, as he watches the wards in the room twist to accommodate Hela's arrival. She still reeks of Death and it pours off of her with every step she takes. But there is a lighter tint to her magic than before. The nightmares are settled, now that she has judged them.

He can only hope that every night won't be as stressful. Loki stretches out a hand, guiding her to his side and casting another warming spell around the room. He doesn't remember when he transitioned from Hela's bedroom to sleeping on the floor, but that's alright. He's not about to complain. Instead, he casts the same spell from the Leaky Cauldron, that affords them plenty of soft blankets and giant puffy pillows.

Fenris snuffles and burrows into the blanket that is half-draped over him. Seth sighs, happily as he curls into the large pillow beside him. Joren sneezes in his arms and shifts from human child to snake, pressing his small head against Loki's arm, too tired to actually do anything else to gain his father's attention.

"Shhh," Loki soothes. "Sleep." He pulls one of the blankets closer, to keep the warmth in and makes no complaint when Joren half burrows into him instead.

Hela yawns, flopping down onto the floor beside them. Her mask is off, and her face reflects the seriousness of how the night has gone. She looks like an old woman, trapped in the body of a girl. Her filmy robes are swapped out for oversized, comfy pajamas. She tugs on Loki's hand until he puts an arm around her shoulders.

"Papa…"

"You did well tonight," he praises. Because even if she does not need his help to rule her realm, she is still his little princess and he thinks, maybe, a little praise won't hurt. "You are a fine queen."

"Am I?" her voice is rough and aching. "I try so hard, but am I?"

"You are doing your best. That is all that can be asked of you."

And that seems to be what she wants to hear, for Hela sighs once more and her body reflects the relief it feels, as her youth crumbles away to something more fragile. Loki hugs her gently and eases back into the pillows. He rubs one hand up and down her skeletal arm as Joren slips between them, curling up contentedly.

In the morning he can figure out how they all ended up here. In the morning—maybe. For now, he'll take this little miracle for what it is and do as he did before. Leech the nightmares from his children, so they can all sleep peacefully for yet another night.

A quiet chime rings in his ears the next morning and Loki wakes as if he has slept for centuries upon centuries. He can hear his children whispering in the background and it is enough to pull him from the final clutches of dreamland.

Now that he is mostly awake, he cannot remember if he actually dreamed or not. It seems as if there were no nightmares, but even that thought is straight and foreign. He knows that two of the nightmares were Hela's and one came from Fenris. Seth and Joren were fine—as far as he can tell. That is something of a relief.

"…is he awake?" Fenris wants to know.

"Shhh! He was sleeping so peacefully," Hela scolds. "You know he doesn't rest."

"Father?" Joren asks, his voice lisping once more.

"He is definitely awake," Seth says. "Don't crowd. Come on. We've got to start getting ready and-"

"We can't leave yet!" Hela whispers, fiercely. "The wards are still up and whatever is in the room-"

"It's Hogwarts," Loki says, stifling a yawn. He sits up enough to stretch and relax as he hasn't been able to do in so very long. He can feel amusement trickling through the wards in the room and it almost makes him smile.

Almost.

"Hogwarts?" Seth's brow furrows. "Like the hat?"

"Stupid hat," Hela mutters.

Joren kneels anxiously beside Loki, his headdress missing and all three of his eyes fixed on his Father's slow awakening. "Father?" There is worry in his voice. "How did I get here? I didn't—I—didn't-!"

"Hogwarts," Loki says, simply. He reaches out, gathering Joren into his arms and gently pressing another warming spell into him. The summoned pillows and blankets vanish as he rises to his feet, taking stock of the sitting room. He can feel the castle's amusement filtering through to him.

The magic is so rich and deep, after all. Lady Hogwarts, it seems, was so touched by their closeness that she thought it best to bring them together for the first night within their walls.

Joren nearly pouts. "It won't happen again?" he asks, in a small voice.

"That is up to her," Loki says, simply. "I take it we're up early enough to get you all to class?"

"I need my mask," Hela grumbles. "And a shorter skirt—and my hairbrush."

"And our uniforms?" Seth shakes his own hair out, combing his fingers through the golden strands. "I think I need a hairbrush too. And my schedule. I was going to make a copy of it last night and I forgot. What about breakfast? I can hear Fenris' stomach growling all the way over here."

Fenris grins, swinging his arms back and forth. "Lotsa magic. Hard to keep it like this." He looks down at his now two-legged self. "Not as good at it as you are."

"It takes practice," Seth says, simply. He doesn't explain that he doesn't want to be back in his eight-legged body, because it's too soon. He'd much rather be a person. A proper person, that can reach out and hold the ones who are most precious to him.

"Breakfast in the Great Hall," Loki says. He sets Joren down on the armchair and wraps him in a blanket, almost out of habit. "Your skirt is fine, Hela. You know it will show your leg, if you are not careful. Come, I'll do your hair—you too, Seth. Fenris—snack on this in the meantime. Don't chew on the coasters."

Now Hela pouts, but she spells her knee-length skirt back to the ankle-length from the day before. Her transformation is a little off, but the most obvious detail—her face—will be hidden by her mask. She stands perfectly still as Loki summons a hairbrush and goes to work.

Seth spells his own uniform on, before turning to help Joren do the same. He shows him how to adjust his Slytherin tie and then ruffles his hair, as watches Joren try to follow his instructions.

Fenris happily gnaws away on the large strip of jerky that Loki has given him. He's already changed into his own uniform. It was easy enough to manage. "Father?"

"Hmm?"

"Where are Nari and Vali?"

Loki purses his lips. He finishes Hela's hair and kisses her wrinkled cheek, before beckoning to Seth. "…they are not at Hogwarts," he says, at last. "Why?"

Fenris chews slowly, his brow furrowed in thought. "Miss them," he says, truthfully. They are wolves like him and he cannot hide the fact that he did like them, that one time they'd met. They were very small wolves, but they were wolves just the same. Family, too. He likes this. The way they are all able to be around each other.

"I don't need anything fancy," Seth murmurs, when Loki has already begun to section off his hair. "It's fine—" He stops when Loki gently taps his shoulder.

"I will have your schedules for you in a minute," Loki says. "It isn't hard to request a duplicate. Take your time today. Learn your way around the castle. Hogwarts—does not mind us, so do not mind her. Be respectful and mindful of her. Do not turn any of your classmates into your familiars and we are not using humans—mortal or otherwise—for anything whatsoever while we are here. We are undercover. That means no—" Loki bit his tongue. He couldn't bring himself to tell them not to make mischief.

If they didn't, he was sure to do it for them.

It was in their blood after all.

"No…?" Seth prompted.

"No breaking our cover," Loki finished. "I still need to add a few more things to our identity here, as the Aldricsons and I need to add a provision for this. I do not wish to be Lori, always, but it is good to keep her form, for the time being. No one will look for me as her. Now, are we ready?"

Too soon Loki-turned-Lori is sitting in place at the table looming over the Great Hall as breakfast is underway. She notes that her children are there in varying states of awareness, considering the start of their morning. Some of them are being helped along by their classmates, while others are fending for themselves.

The Slytherin table is one that fends for itself. Joren, of course, has always done so and now, he seems supremely unperturbed to draw the horrified attention of his fellow roommates as he piles his breakfast plate with every single seafood possible.

Lori is silently pleased that the house elves have listened to their requests, because she had worried about the different diets of her darling children. Joren needs the fish—other foods are interesting, but not to his taste—and anything as close to raw as he can get away with.

She wonders how creative the elves will be in the future. From Joren's sleepy, but content chatter in their shared link, she knows that he is alright with what is before him.

Fenris sits alone at his corner of the table, all but yawning into his dinner plate, as the prefects try to hurry along some of the younger students who seem to have overslept. His breakfast is hearty red meats and, like Joren, as bloody and rare as he can get away with.

Lori can tell that he's cast a glamour over it and she wonders, briefly, why—before she notices a sleepy little green-eyed Harry all but napping in his breakfast plate.

Ah. So Fenris is being considerate.

Charming.

Lori sips on her coffee, grateful for the unlimited refill charm on the bottom of it. She isn't in a hurry for the day to progress too quickly. First days, from what she can recall of her dim childhood, were always troublesome headaches. Learning her way around new tutors and new textbooks, with the added bonus of every single tutor or teacher, believing that Thor was the smarter one.

Granted, she'd learned quickly, not to contradict them, because it simply made her learning more difficult. But she'd been infinitely relieved when Frigga had taken over her schooling. Frigga's softened manner, graceful aura and patient teaching style had helped to fix certain necessary bits of information into a stubborn child. It's a particularly fond memory that prompted the thought of teaching at Hogwarts, instead of fabricating some other simpler identity.

At the Ravenclaw table, Hela is politely nodding at the excited ramblings of her bright and chirpy roommate with the shining blonde hair. She seems fine sitting there, nodding and shrugging in alternate moments, without even attempting to fake eating her breakfast for the day.

Lori hopes that the conversation is interesting. Someone who is cheerful and unafraid enough to approach Hela is just what she needs.

Of course, Seth is in the middle of the Hufflepuff table—much like the previous day. He's surrounded by his fellow housemates and they are all merrily talking and sharing food amongst them. Seth's plate is filled by the helpful Cedric, while duplicate class schedules are handed out by the prefects.

It's actually such a brilliant idea that Lori takes note of it for the future. Head of House is not a position she's considered before, but perhaps—if she wishes to be Loki here, maybe that would be a better option at some point in the future…

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who has read and reviewed this fic over the years! It has meant so much to me. As some of you may know, when I first started my Professor!Loki story, my laptop died a few months later, taking a lot of my fics with it. I didn't have any of my newer stuff backed up and this was one of those fics. It's taken me a little while to write a new chapter, mostly because I am quite fond of this version of Loki and I didn't want to half-heartedly try to continue it, until I'd figured out some sort of plot in my head.

I have something of an idea now and the next chapter shouldn't take years. ;) I hope the style hasn't changed too much, I've tried to keep it a bit consistent. Enjoy!

~Scion