Quasars Between Us

Chapter 8 – What Lies Within
Words: 4 423

There was a brief pause before Loki asked his question. "How did Lily die?"

Harry immediately turned suspicious, he couldn't help it. It didn't matter how many times he told himself that he wanted to trust Loki – that he would – he couldn't seem to do it. Telling himself to trust Loki without getting further evidence in favour of doing so didn't work any better than Ron telling himself that he wasn't hungry when his stomach rumbled just before dinner, or Hermione telling herself not to be nervous over the result of a test when she could line up all the mistakes she knew she'd done. "Why do you want to know?" he asked back.

Loki's brow furrowed and rose, creating rounded lines in the skin. "Why wouldn't I want to know about her death considering what I told you?"

He had to concede to that. Loki had if he was to be believed known Lily, cared for her, possibly even loved her though those words remain unsaid. Whether the story he had told was true he had seen something in Loki's expression the first time he said his mother's name. "Sorry."

"No harm done. Was it Voldemort?"

"You know about him?"

"Did you at all listen to the story I told you?" Loki's voice came out in a snap, sounding harsher than Harry had heard it directed at him so far and he lowered his eyes in a silent apology. It was relief mixed with doubt that made him ask the last question. If Loki knew about Voldemort it was likelier that he had indeed pretended to be James Potter. There were other ways to know, sure, but if things continued like this, if new evidence for the story Loki had told continued to pile up he would be able to put his suspicions to rest. The prospect was a good one.

Loki sighed and continued. "Yes, I know about him and the war he had declared on magical England to bring about change and give himself power. It would not come as a surprise if he had something to do with Lily's death. She was a formidable witch who fought against him and he knew that killing someone is the only certain way to permanently remove opposition."

"He killed her…" Harry looked back up. "He murdered her and James."

"Then two more good people died at his hands."

"I should have died too. He cast the killing curse at me, but I didn't die, instead people think it reflected and killed him. But he wasn't dead, not completely. He became a wraith or something. He hid away for many years, gathering strength, but he's back. He had an elaborate scheme to get to me. He wanted to use my blood. I was put in a position where I would touch a Portkey which took me to him. He used my blood in a ritual and got himself a new body. He tried to kill me again after that, but something weird happened with our wands and I escaped."

Once done with the abbreviated story of what had happened to Voldemort Harry felt almost like putting his hand over his mouth in horror of what he had just been spewing and way too quickly too. The words had become a near indecipherable blur. He had tried so hard to be eloquent when speaking to all these adults he had met over the last week, especially Loki, wanting to make a good impression. Now all his work might have become undone for no better reason than that he had let his emotions get the best of him. Upon saying the first words of the recount a floodgate had been opened, letting forth a tidal wave. Perhaps he had been in more dire need to speak with someone than he had understood and together with having prepared mentally to share his story with Loki this had been the result. Now it was all out there and in a way that was a relief but it hadn't happened the way he had pictured with a collected retelling of everything, coupled with vivid imagery to make a good story and what he had felt since he wanted to unburden himself. He looked to his father, trying to judge how he had taken it. To see if he disliked Harry's jargon or disapproved of what he had tried to communicate. Loki's expressive eyebrows were slightly raised, but besides that his expression was fairly blank, possibly a bit sympathetic which relaxed Harry.

"Voldemort was dead, but came back you say?"

"Probably. I couldn't say for sure, but he was without a body until a few weeks ago."

"I see. And you survived the killing curse?"

"That's what I've been told, that I am the only one who has survived it. It has made me famous," the last bit was said bitterly. His fame had brought him nothing good. He'd rather not be famous for surviving what so many others had not.

"And who told you that?"

Harry shrugged and as he did so he noticed the furrowing of Loki's brow occurring again, he got the impression that his father did not enjoy it when he shrugged and he knew that he should avoid the gesture in the future if he wanted to keep making a good impression. "It's common knowledge. I couldn't possibly say who figured it out first."

"Did the curse leave a mark?"

It was uncanny how spot on the question was. Harry had vaguely known it, known that Loki would have more knowledge of magical things and the universe than anyone he had previously met, but he had not thought that he would be so well versed in the magic of wizards. If he had truly lived as James Potter for several months he might know a lot about that too. "Yes," he murmured and in a well practiced gesture he swiped away his fringe so that the scar became visible.

Loki got up from his chair and crouched down next to Harry, their faces almost levelled. "May I?" he asked reaching out with his hand.

Understanding what he wanted and trusting that he wouldn't actually harm him, Harry nodded yes. The touch of Loki's fingers when they gently prodded at his scar felt much the same as when the skin had been blue. It was a feeling of dry skin that was neither warm nor cool, just… there. While Loki's gaze was locked on the scar Harry watched his eyes, taking in the swirls of colour of the irises. There were many colours mingling there, it made the eyes interesting to look at. A dark edge bordered them, there a field of greyish-blue and then some warmer grey in the middle which almost gave the eye an impression of being green. Harry had thought that they were green before but after seeing his own eyes in the mirror Harry could no longer say that they were green. It seemed as if it still held true that he had his mother's eyes.

Harry blinked and looked away when Loki's eyes turned down, focusing on his, his hand falling away from the scar. Looking away was a reflex, one that said he had something to hide. He did not, so he quickly looked back.

"I cannot tell much without using magic, it may be painful if I do."

"What could you possibly learn?"

"If it was caused by the killing curse or something else, how it has affected you, if it's harmful. I will say it again, depending on what I stir up it can be very painful."

"Do you think we should do it?"

"Yes," Loki replied. "If it is harming you we need to know so that it can be removed and healed."

It made sense. Dumbledore had theorised that Voldemort had left some of his power behind, localized to the scar, but there was no telling if there was more to it, not unless he allowed Loki to find out. Besides he was no stranger to pain. He could deal. "Do it."

Loki nodded and brought his hand back up, resting it more firmly on the scar, a hard pressure compared to the previously soft touches. In his peripheral vision Harry saw sharp light and then there was pain, pain that came suddenly and was terrible and intense. It made him scrunch up his eyes tightly and flinch back. His movement was hindered by Loki moving lightning fast to place his other hand on the side of his Harry's head, holding him still. His scar really, really hurt. Stinging, aching, smarting, screaming out that something was wrong. It was hurting the same way as it had in the graveyard when Voldemort had touched him. It felt as if his skull would split open from the scar, and he wanted to vomit, the pain was so bad. If only it would stop.

"Breath," Loki ordered him.

Harry drew in a gulping breath, unable to do anything but follow the order when it was given in that voice. He hadn't noticed that he'd held his breath in the first place, too busy dealing with the sensations emanating from his forehead.

With air in his lungs now he screamed with the relentless onslaught of agony, letting out a long wail which choked and began over again until he could no longer scream. The pain went on relentlessly, growing and spreading. It transmuted to feel as if his scull wouldn't just split, no it wouldn't do something as boring and ordinary as that, it would fracture into a million tiny pieces and he would be dead, but that would be preferable to the pain. Only this wasn't an enemy doing this, it was his father. "Stop," he tried to say. He couldn't manage the word, his throat too sore. He tried to swallow to make his mouth produce saliva that would help him speak; it only made him gag as he near enough choked on his own tongue. Gasping for a few long moments he tried again, this time managing a hoarse whisper. "Stop it."

"Only a moment longer."

He couldn't take a moment longer. "Please."

The pain stopped abruptly and Harry was left pulling in air raggedly, feeling mildly nauseous and drained. He felt like crying and as he thought it, sobs began to crawl their way up through his sore throat. He had thought that he could handle the pain but it was so much worse than he had imagined. It was too much and he was powerless to stop the tears. Arbitrarily it didn't help one bit when arms were wrapped around him and he was held tightly, securely against a hard chest. He sobbed harder, to taken by the lingering memory of the pain and the remains of the ordeal to think about what the pressure meant. Loki was warm and rocked him gently, making a soothing hushing noises, stroking his hair. From where he touched warmth spread, numbing the remaining hurt, healing him gently. Harry clung onto his father, taking the freely given comfort. He gradually calmed down, feeling warm, secure and exhausted.

"Sorry," he said once he could get words out passed the sobs that rocked through his body. He felt the need to apologize though he wasn't sure of what. Perhaps for that he hadn't been strong enough to hold on for as long as Loki wanted, perhaps for crying all over the god.

Loki just hushed him wordlessly same as he had done before, continuing to stroke slowly through his hair.

Eventually Harry pulled away from the embrace. No matter how good the physical comfort felt, it also made him feel uneasy. Loki may be his father, but they hardly knew each other. They'd met a day before. Besides the man was a… Harry didn't know what exactly he was. Thor might say that he was a lost soul. Bruce hadn't said anything in front of Harry but he got the impression that the scientist thought Loki was crazy. Steve thought he was dangerous. Natasha thought the same as the Captain, but in less flattering terms and Tony had not been shy about calling him an unhinged megalomaniac with sociopathic tendencies.

Breaking down before Loki could have been dangerous. All things considered Harry could only be happy that it currently seemed as if Thor was the closest when it came to describing his father. Lost. It might make him all the things the others thought but it also meant that there was more. A human side under the hard exterior of metal, hurt and anger. Maybe.

"Sorry," he said again, his voice rough from his crying, but not nearly as bad as it had been before Loki healed it. His eyes were red rimmed and sore, his cheeks wet. He rubbed his sleeve over his face to wipe away the worst of it, pulling a disgusted face as some snot mixed with the water from his tears.

"You do not need to apologize. After a just trial, emotions are to be expected. You were brave who chose to face the pain knowing that the outcome would be worth it and you faced it as well as I could have expected. You held out long enough that it was not in vain."

"I don't feel like I handled it well," Harry muttered.

"You bore with it for a long time before you asked me to stop. I cannot say exactly how bad what you felt was but I can make a well educated guess and most men would have begged for an end long before you did. Fighting out the pain like you did is proof of strength, not weakness. Regardless of whatever perceived notions you have or suspect me to hold of weakness, you should let them go. You should never think that you need to hide them from my sight or that weakness when faced with something larger than you is something of which to be ashamed."

"But-"

"Hush, I am telling you something important."

Harry closed his mouth and listened. This speech was not something he had expected. He'd thought that Loki would abhorrer weakness. That was the impression he had gotten and the man had said so himself, said that he had difficulty accepting weakness.

"I will not begrudge you tears or ignorance." Loki reached out and took his hand, re-initiating physical contact. It felt warm, rekindling the comfort from earlier, rekindling the feeling of belonging and family that had briefly sprouted within Harry while he was in his father's embrace. The touch worked as an anchor, something the teenager felt grateful for, it put the stirring doubt to rest for the time being.

"You are my son," his father said steadily, the words lighting a small, warm fire in Harry's chest from the kindling that had just been placed there with the physical touch, "and it is my duty to pick you up when you fall down, to dry your tears, letting you know that everything will be alright." From nowhere he produced a handkerchief. He hesitated a little before he allowed Harry to take it himself and wipe off what tears his sleeve had missed. "It is my duty to teach you, to help you grow so that one day you will no longer need the help, because you will no longer fall, only make others crumble to become your stepping stone on your way to greatness. I cannot expect you to never show pain, to never be upset, to never make mistake. I can only expect you to keep fighting the long battle, to not let defeat pull you down indefinitely, to learn with every new experience, to grow stronger. Do you think you can do that for me, Haraldr?"

"Yes." Harry did believe so. It was what he'd always done. Rising again, brushing off the dust, knowing where he had gone wrong and trying to not make the same mistake again. If Loki wouldn't demand more, he could do it.

He got a nod and a small smile in return. "Do you feel recovered enough to hear what I learned about your scar?"

"Is it bad?"

"It could be better."

"Tell me?"

"As you wish. A soul shard lives within you, anchored to the scar."

Harry felt everything still. He was holding his breath again, his heart might be beating still but it didn't feel like it. He was losing sensation in his fingers and toes. Everything felt cold.

"Haraldr," Loki snapped.

Harry drew in a breath; following his father's order same as before. This time however he used it for something a bit more articulate than a scream. "A piece of Voldemort's soul is within me?" It was a statement as much as a question.

"Yes."

"That's why we have the connection, why I can speak to snakes. Merlin." The handkerchief Loki had given him was a scrunched up ball within his fist.

"You did not tell me this before."

"We didn't get that far. What does it mean? How dangerous is it? How do we get rid of it?" There was no doubt in his mind that it was dangerous and that he wanted it gone. Knowing that he had a piece of the man who had murdered his mother and so many others within him, made him feel unclean. Dirty. Stained. Defiled. Tainted. It was so much worse than only having some of Voldemort's powers. If it had only been magic he could think of it as having become his, but a piece of a soul could never become part of him, could never be him, it was fully the Dark Lord.

"It's surprisingly not very malevolent."

"Not malevolent!" Harry protested, eyes wide. "How can it not be when it causes me such pain?"

"Don't mistake me. The shard not having the outright intention to damage you does not make it benevolent. It is a parasite; a base creature that cannot be compared to a full human. Whatever feeble consciousness it has, only possesses one intent; survival. It has used you to survive. If it had been stronger it would have tried to take over your body when it entered you as a child, but it could not. Consequently it decided to protect you as its host, helping you as best it could. It may have been a part of Voldemort once, but it has been separated long enough to become an independent entity, adapting to you. It is not certain that it would be able to survive at all if separated from you. For that to occur, some rather specific criteria would have to be met."

"What criteria?"

"Voldemort would have to be conscious of its existence, and he would have to accept it back to the whole. I think we can be certain that will happen."

"Why?"

"The exact circumstances of the tearing of the shard would have to be replicated in reverse. Hate and terrible intent form to commit murder and powered by magic can tear the soul apart. Do you think Voldemort capable of the opposite?"

Harry thought on it. Pondering what the opposite of hate might be. He thought Dumbledore would immediately answer love, but Harry thought both hate and love were more complex than that. It might depend on what Voldemort hated. The hate of weakness might need acceptance. The hate of a person based on things out of their control, the way muggleborns could not chose to be born to parents without magic, might need understanding to be reversed. Hate born from betrayal might need forgiveness. Love could perhaps make all of them sprout, making it a blanket term for it all, meaning that the Headmaster would be right. Harry didn't think Voldemort would be capable to feel the opposite of hate, whatever it was. Then it had to be combined with the opposite of intent, whatever that might be. Perhaps the feelings had to come without the intent to use them to get the soul shard back, perhaps it had to be felt naturally, truly. If so it was another point against Voldemort's success. Then there was the last criterion. Voldemort would have to know that the soul shard existed within Harry. Harry wasn't going to say anything and he didn't think Loki would either.

"No," he answered. "I don't think Voldemort would be able to reverse the process."

"Then we have reached the same conclusion. The shard will safeguard its own survival not Voldemort's. As long as your goals are aligned it will be a tentative ally to you."

"Are you suggesting that I keep it?"

"For the time being. You do not seem to like my suggestion."

"I don't. It feels wrong to have a piece of Voldemort, no matter how much it has changed, within me."

Loki smiled. "I'd say that it would feel stranger if it was removed. You have grown used to its presence. You may feel empty without it. Removing it would mean going through the same pain again, and it may well last longer. From what I could determine, your soul is entwined tightly with the shard. I can remove it, but it would take power I cannot spare at this time, besides," here his smile turned into a shark like grin, "through it we have a connection to Voldemort. I can teach you to better use it, and if you allow it, I can use it through you. Until the time comes when we can strike against him, we can survey him to know what he is planning and once the time comes to end him, the connection can be used to locate him."

"You'll help me stop him?" Harry got excited. This was what he wanted, why he had played along with SHIELD as they brought him away with the intent to use him.

His father scoffed. "As if I'd allow a blatant threat against my son, like to so called Dark Lord, to remain. Put him out of your mind for now. He'll be dealt with in due time."

"Why does it have to wait? You make it sound like killing Voldemort would be easy." Harry didn't want to sound petulant, yet he feared that was how he came out sounding and at the same time he felt that it was a just query. If Loki knew so much, if he was as powerful as he was letting on, then the You-Know-Who nonsense should be easily dealt with and putting it to rest should be no skin of his back.

"It will be, yet it if it is to be done properly to make sure that Voldemort has no way of coming back again it will have to be planned carefully and done in a timely manner. It is time I cannot spare at this time, I have a greater picture to think about."

"So what is it that you are trying to accomplish? Why did you come to earth in the first place? What happened to you after the destruction of the Bifrost?"

"Ah, Thor has told you about that too. Of course he did." Loki rose abruptly to his feet, his coat sweeping out behind him. "That is a story for another day I should think. It is not pleasant and you've been through enough already. When you came to see me on their flying ship you told me that you wished to understand me."

"Yes."

"You want to believe that I am acting for a reason beyond the power hunger the so called heroes have attributed to me."

"Yes," Harry said again.

"All you need to know for now is that I am. I have been burdened with purpose that far outmatches the wizards in England's little war. Purpose greater than any conflict on this planet and greater than the very nine Realms and their squabbles. Things that have remained unknown for an age are stirring in the universe and we have to prepare. If we are to see the other side of what is to come we will have to pay a high price. I am prepared to pay it. I don't think Thor or his peers are, they are willing to take a risk everything, willing to keep their moral high ground even if it will surely doom them."

"Dying isn't the worst thing," Harry interjected. "Fighting for what you believe in, fighting to be good can be worth dying for."

"Naïve, Haraldr, naïve." Loki shook his head. "Yes, there is a line to be drawn that shouldn't be crossed. I am only willing to be more flexible in where I draw it. You are correct in that dying isn't the worst thing. So I ask you; does it not make a man a hero if he is willing to sacrifice his morals, his goodness, his humanity, for the greater good?"

Harry didn't know what to say. He had never thought of heroism like that. Courage he had been told was not the absence of fear but the strength to fight on despite the fear. Perhaps this worked the same way. A hero's sacrifice might be worth more with the increase of the sacrifice that was offered. If death was easy, then giving up one's very self might be the grander thing to do.

Loki didn't seem to think Harry would give an answer because he continued without receiving one. "If you have patience and show yourself worthy I may impart onto you the full extent of what we are facing. Knowledge is a terrible and magnificent thing. Until such a time that I know you can understand it, can handle it, I know that I must keep the worst of it from you. When my actions do not match up to what you know, to the morals you hold, I need you to know that there is a reason for everything."

Harry understood that there was no use in arguing, the tone his father had used made it perfectly clear that he was not to be questioned. "Fine," he said.

"Shall we agree to be done with the doom and gloom for today?"

Harry was taken aback by the sudden change in demeanour. Before Loki had acted haughty, self entitled, showing the same assurance as when he had given his little farewell speech on the Helicarrier, now he suddenly seemed light hearted, young and… mischievous. "Should I be worried?" he asked hesitantly.

"Only a little bit."

End Chapter 8 - What Lies Within

AN 23rd May 2015

So, how's their relationship progressing do you think? What is Loki thinking? What is he planning? Care to take a guess? I'd love to hear what you can think up.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

By the way I went and saw Age of Ultron again, I sat there and thought about what my Harry - who by the time Age of Ultron happens has the potential of being fairly overpowered - would contribute. It also made me think of an opposite of sorts and I wanted to explore an alternative scene. I'm sharing it with you and hope you enjoy this what-could-have-been from chapter 5.

The man made a show of lifting one of his hands, holding it up so that both of them could see it. As they watched the skin turned from a pale skin colour to deep-blue. The colour spread slowly from the fingertips up to the wrist, raised patterns in swirls lying on the back of the hand. They were beautiful in an exotic and dangerous fashion, like the pattern on the back of a poisonous snake.

"Loki!" Harry and Loki both turned to the side to see Thor striding to the edge of the glass cage, Mjolnir in his hand, Steve and Natasha were at his heels. "I beseech you, brother! Do not harm him!"

"Harm him?" Loki chuckled darkly, white teeth flashing. "Either this is a play where you try to make a fool of me, if so there is no need for me to care if he is hurt," he paused, cocking his head slightly. "Or this is actually what I am being led to believe and my touch will do him no harm."

He placed his hand lightly on Harry's face.

Harry screamed.

It burned. The touch burned him. It was pain like nothing he had felt before. It couldn't compare to the Cruciatus curse as it was centred on such a small part of his body, and it felt different from where he had been stabbed by the basilisk fang too. He was aware that Loki was no longer touching him, yet it continued to burn as if a small fire was consuming his flesh.

"How disappointing," Loki mumbled, while the people outside the cage cried Harry's name or raged at Loki.

"Why would you risk touching him?" Thor called, looking half ready to put Mjolnir against the glass of the cage to free Harry and bring him to safety. "You know children are not as durable as we! Benign half mortal he could be double so before his maturity!"

Harry was just whimpering now, he had tried to touch his cheek with his hand, instinctively and dumbly seeking out the injury. He couldn't, it was too cold. He didn't understand why. He had been burnt, it should be hot.

"You continue with this farce?" Loki said, clicking his tongue. "I have seen through your plan, you can drop your pretence."

"It is no pretence. I had not thought you capable of harming a child, especially not your own. Today you have proven me wrong."

Loki chuckled, he seemed terribly amused by the whole situation, something Harry couldn't sympathise with. "You are unbearably naive, same as always."

"He is your son. I have seen documents where magic marked it so, this is no play, only circumstance. You were willing to believe it. You must know it's possible. Look at him. Can you not see how he share's your looks? It is no illusion."

Loki looked back to Harry, critically examining his pained, sweaty face and fierce green eyes. "I suppose some more examinations will not hurt." He spared another glance for Thor before he grabbed Harry's shoulder and transported them away only leaving a few golden green sparks behind that soon faded into nothing.

[Last edited August 2015]