Loki never thought his first day in Hogwarts would ever go bad. And so imagine his surprise when he was swiped off his imaginary wizard valedictorian throne during Herbology. There is art and science in magic, calculated precision with a dash of imagination. He expected Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures to be all the same. Never was he so wrong.

Loki loved all things beautiful. He loved flowers and animals back in Asgard. Oh Hel, he gave birth to monsters and still all his children were beautiful. But, that was all in Asgard, where the Odin's halls had gardeners and caretakers, where he could play with Sleipnir in a controlled environment, where all plant were trimmed to shapes.

Madame Pomfrey led down into a large greenhouse where all kinds of Midgardian plants bloom. Some he recognized originated from other realms; like the glittering flowers from Alfheim and the snapping plants from the land of dwarves.

Although, the plants shared one thing in common. They were not beautiful.

By the end of the class, Loki's skin was moist with sweat from the blare of sunlight barely (*verb*) by the roof. He was not used to this kind of menial labor. His soft hands and manicured nails now blackened by dirt and soil. Grime sullied his robes. If Ms. Potts ever heard about this, she would withdrew Loki immediately.

Loki was a god. Loki did not pull crying plants from one pot only to put them into another.

Malfoy was as unamused. His father would surely hear about this.

Loki never flew. It was Thor's thing. The little god preferred both his feet planted on something solid as much as possible, like the backside of Ironman's armor, thank you very much.

Unfortunately, Professor Hooch did not prefer so, neither would she consider trying Ironman.

First year students from Slytherin and Gryffindor formed two lines, each with a resting broom beside them. Loki eyed his broom suspiciously. It looked rather uncomfortable. He doubted it could even clean.

"On my whistle, say up." The professor marched in the middle of the lines, a silver whistle on hand.

Loki wondered how up was such a generic word to say. Accio sounded cooler. Yes, he read about it already.

The professor blew her whistle.

There was a collection of up's. Harry Potter's broom shot up to his hand almost immediately. Draco Malfoy took a while. Theodore Nott, who was standing beside him, watched the god expectantly.

"Why are you waiting for me?" Loki asked, genuinely confused. The boy had been following him all day. Loki didn't know if he was to be flattered or crept out.

"I'm not sure." The boy said, truthfully, then brushed a loose hair strand. "There's just something."

Loki didn't speak.

"Well, go on then. After you."

Loki shrugged. He reached a hand out. The broom shot up without him even saying an audible word. The god frowned. He'd been using his own magic since the first day of classes. There were no traces of Midgardian magic in his system. Thus, it bugged the edges of his mind just how and why these humans invited him to their school.

Zabini, who watched Loki beside Nott, clapped his hands in mock awe. Loki shot him a glare, to which the human returned a sly grin.

Nott summoned the broom towards him in a soft 'up!' Zabini did so, as well.

Professor Hooch whistled again to gather their attention. She stopped walking in the middle of the two lines. "Ride your brooms, please."

The students did, Loki a little hesitantly. He stomped a foot over the long thin wood and sighed. There was no way in Helheim could riding a broomstick be safe and comfortable for distant travelling. If he could somehow produce a saddle to sit upon, this subject would be a lot less of a hassle.

Flying. Flying so callously was useless. The curriculum could have just taught the students how to transform themselves in birds so that they fly with more ease and stealth.

… Or summon my army upon England and end this nonsense.

Malfoy didn't share the god's thoughts. In fact, he was smirking wildly and arrogantly over Loki's look of disgust.

"On 3," the teacher continued, "I want you to kick your feet off the ground carefully."

Loki felt the rush of magic not coming from him before he saw it.

"1..."

The force was premature, uncontrolled. Loki looked frantically for the source, alarmed at the sudden surge.

"2…"

Longbottom kicked off the ground, just as the teacher had instructed though a second too early.

The god grunted and rolled his eyes. The boy possessed a large amount of energy that his rather weak body could not control. Loki thought to help, but for his own lay-low tactic it would not do. He would let the teacher take control; that's what teachers were supposed to do in any realm, right?

The other students gasped and screamed. Most muggles were shaking in panic, except for Hermione looked like he could kill the snickering Malfoy with the glare she was sending his way. The Slytherin didn't even noticed, too entertained with Longbottom.

The teacher, for the love of Odin's beard, merely pointed a wand and screamed for Longbottom to get down, as if that would do anything to help the poor student.

Longbottom wobbled on his broom as he rose higher, higher now to reach with arms. Loki caught himself clutching his hand tightly, before he sighed and let go.

You will not do it.

The broom went haywire. It skyrocketed to the wall, slamming itself repeatedly. It swooped down the gates, into the hallway, out towards the children, and across the towers. The poor child could not even control it.

The hem of Longbottom's robe hooked against the spear of an unsuspecting knight as the broom swept past the statue. The Gryffindor stayed there. The broom, however, was never found again.

"Uh oh," someone muttered from their crowd of students.

Longbottom flopped towards the ground. The teacher hurriedly dashed past the student towards the child's side. She commanded a few instructions before they headed towards the school clinic.

Loki shook his head. What a bunch of idiots.

On the ground near Longbottom's spot of demise lay a transparent ball. Malfoy picked it up. Potter saw it. What came after was so ridiculous Loki would rather be incarcerated into the depths of Asgard's dungeons than watch both humans chase one another for a plaything.

"It's Longbottom's Remembrall," a student said.

"Give it back, Malfoy!" Harry Potter said, voice laced with an authority so surprising Loki had to mentally clap.

Malfoy smirked at him. It didn't take a genius to know what he was planning to do. The Slytherin hopped onto his broom and off the ground. "Make me."

Potter rode his broom.

"What an idiot." Loki heard Granger say. For once, Loki had to agree with her.

"Malfoy!" Loki said before he could stop himself. "Get back down here."

It wasn't the most eloquent of words but it should do for these bunch of tiny Midgardians. Of course, Loki didn't expect Malfoy to just get back down. However, Loki was not ready to lose all though fifty or so points he's earned in class to a poorly thought out, unplanned prank.

"Or what?" Malfoy challenged him.

Loki fished his wand out of his robes and aimed it at Malfoy. The god gave him a demonic grin, eyes glaring and teeth showing, like a lion to a deer. "I will not allow you to endanger our house point for a prank on a Gryffindor."

It made Malfoy falter a little, but he snarled at him. Loki was relieved Malfoy considered his opinion. He came down and trudged towards Loki.

Malfoy raised his chin and looked down upon the god. He was about to say something, but Loki cut him in.

"You'll tell your father about this?" Loki said in unashamed mockery, an eyebrow raised. He stretched an open palm towards Malfoy. "The toy, please."

But, instead of dropping the ball on Loki's hand like the good human the god expected him to be, Malfoy threw the Remembrall far towards one of the towers' window.

Potter, in his self-righteousness, sped towards the ball before it hit the glass. Loki, in a feat of alarm, spewed a random spell from his lips. The ball slowed. Potter was able to catch it just in time.

Loki released a long string of ancient curses. He didn't mean to do that. Potter should have just slammed into the window and died. End of story.

Potter landed down a victor. Gryffindor students, except for Granger, flocked towards him.

Nott frowned at him.

Zabini gasped. "What did you do?"

"Uhm… magic?" Loki shrugged, and then he said "duh?" for good measure.

"Arresto Momentum," Granger whispered beside him, "that's a very advance spell. Where did you learn that?"

Loki didn't care what the spell was called. He breathed over it with his own tongue, the sorcerer's tongue. He decided that if the evil overlord didn't appear during his time in this school, then he would at least show these sorry lot the magic of the most powerful wizard in the Nine Realms.

"Obviously not from my parents." It was all he said before Loki looked on forwards, towards Professor McGonagall who was calling out to Harry Potter, towards Professor Hooch who just arrived to finish the class, and towards Professor Snape who was beckoning the god to come with him.

"Loki Laufeyson?" Snape said from the foyer, "Come with me."

The tiny god jogged towards his teacher and into the mystery that was Hogwarts.

A/N: Sorry it took too long to update. I've been busy with school. Is it good? Is it bad? Please read and review.