It had been a week since Harry's unexpected run-in with Sersi, and he was actually looking forward to a date that didn't involve intergalactic war, magical duels, or the looming threat of total annihilation. It was a novel concept.
Naturally, the universe took one look at his schedule and went, "Nope."
Instead of debating what kind of coffee Sersi liked, Harry found himself dealing with the slightly more pressing issue of sending Thor and Loki back to Asgard. Because, as it turned out, the Bifrost—their usual celestial Uber—was out of commission, courtesy of some recent alien invasion.
So, yeah. Just another Tuesday.
"Let me get this straight," Harry said, leaning against the lab's reinforced glass wall as he watched Tony Stark and Bruce Banner argue over equations that probably required three PhDs to understand. "We're trying to use an ancient space rock to rip a hole in the universe so we can yeet Thor and Loki back home, and the only thing stopping us from turning New York into cosmic soup is you two."
"Excuse you," Tony shot back, adjusting his sunglasses indoors, because of course he did. "I am a certified genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, and interdimensional problem-solver. If anything, New York's odds of surviving just went up. You're welcome."
"Yeah, that's comforting," Clint muttered from the couch, where he was balancing a coffee cup on his forehead. "I love it when our lives depend on Tony's ego."
"Hey, the ego's a feature, not a bug," Tony said. "And if you're feeling nervous, Legolas, maybe don't loiter in my lab of wonders."
Bruce sighed and massaged his temples. "What Tony means is, yes, we're using the Tesseract. No, it shouldn't destroy the planet."
"Define 'shouldn't,'" Steve said, arms crossed like a disappointed dad.
Tony threw his hands up. "See? This is why I have trust issues."
"I'd say it's the self-sabotage, but sure," Natasha added dryly.
JARVIS chimed in, his voice the epitome of refined patience. "Shall I prepare the Stark Industries legal team for the inevitable catastrophe, sir?"
"JARVIS, you wound me," Tony said, placing a hand over his heart. "But yes, tell them to hold my calls."
After what felt like a never-ending montage of techno-babble, holograms, and more caffeine than should be legally consumed, the Tesseract-powered portal device was finally ready. It shimmered in the middle of the Avengers' common area, pulsing with an energy that screamed "probably dangerous."
Thor, ever the golden retriever in godly form, clapped Tony on the back with enough force to leave an Iron Man-shaped dent in the floor. "You have my thanks, friend Stark! Your cunning rivals even the wisest of Asgardian sages."
"Oh, I like this guy," Tony said, straightening his suit. "Can we keep him?"
Loki, restrained in what Tony dubbed his "Magical Muzzle 3000," merely raised an unimpressed eyebrow. His hands were shackled in glowing cuffs that neutralized his magic, and the gag covering his mouth ensured he couldn't unleash any persuasive monologues about how the universe should be kneeling before him.
Not that he wasn't trying. Loki was very committed to the death glare.
"Thor, you sure you want to take him back?" Clint asked. "Because I think he's having fun here."
Loki narrowed his eyes further, which Harry honestly didn't think was possible.
"Brother," Thor said solemnly, placing a hand on Loki's shoulder. "Though you have wrought much chaos, I—"
Loki headbutted him.
Thor blinked, looking mildly offended. "Rude."
Tony sighed dramatically. "Alright, ladies, let's wrap it up before we get another Norse family squabble."
Harry stepped forward, looking every bit the dashing interdimensional hero. "Safe travels, my friend. May Asgard welcome you with open arms, and may your path be guided by—"
Tony cut in. "Okay, Shakespeare, let's speed this up before Loki escapes just to avoid hearing more of your poetry."
Harry huffed. "That was heartfelt, you tin-plated menace."
"And yet, we're still here," Tony quipped. "Moving on!"
Thor and Loki stepped into the portal. It should have been a simple send-off. It should have been a clean break. It should not have resulted in Harry suddenly being yanked forward like an unfortunate extra in a sci-fi disaster movie.
"Wait, what—?!"
One moment, he was standing with both feet firmly on solid ground. The next, he was being sucked into the portal like a sock in a malfunctioning dryer. He barely had time to process the screaming vortex of cosmic energy before he was tumbling through space, his brain supplying a single, resounding thought:
Oh, for Merlin's sake.
Reality twisted, colors swirled, and Harry could swear he tasted blue. Then, just as suddenly as it started, the chaos stopped.
—
With a final, electrifying whoosh, the portal spat Harry, Thor, and Loki out onto the golden plains of Asgard like a malfunctioning roller coaster ejecting its riders at full speed. Harry hit the ground in a spectacularly undignified heap, tumbling head over heels before skidding to a stop. Thor landed on his feet like a majestic golden retriever who had just leaped off a moving chariot. And Loki… well, Loki managed to land on all fours, only to be unceremoniously flattened as Thor, in all his thunderous glory, crashed into him.
"Oof!" Loki's muffled grunt was the only sound he could manage, thanks to the sleek, metallic muzzle strapped securely over his mouth.
Thor picked himself up, brushing nonexistent dust off his armor, and beamed. "We have arrived!" he declared grandly, throwing his arms wide.
Harry groaned, pushing himself upright and shaking off the residual tingles from their rather explosive entrance. The air around them still crackled with leftover energy, and the scent of burnt ozone clung stubbornly to his clothes. He looked up—and his brain promptly short-circuited.
Asgard was insane. Towering spires gleamed like freshly polished gold under a sky so blue it put every travel brochure to shame. Waterfalls cascaded from impossible heights, shimmering with rainbow hues that would make Lisa Frank weep. The entire place radiated an otherworldly grandeur that screamed We have better architecture than you. It was like stepping into a fantasy novel—only with better special effects.
Harry whistled. "Damn. And here I thought Hogwarts had flair."
Thor clapped him on the back with enough force to realign his spine. "Magnificent, is it not? Asgard, jewel of the Nine Realms! My home, my kingdom!"
Loki, still facedown in the dirt, made an indignant noise that sounded suspiciously like You're standing on my back, you oaf.
Thor blinked, then stepped off his brother with a sheepish chuckle. "Apologies, Loki."
Loki shot him a murderous glare as he rose to his feet, brushing himself off with all the grace of someone who absolutely did not just get flattened like a pancake.
Harry crossed his arms and fixed Loki with a pointed look. "So. That portal mishap. Total accident, right?"
Loki, still sporting his muzzle, raised a single brow—the universal sign for Why, whatever do you mean?—and shrugged.
Harry narrowed his eyes. "Uh-huh. Because I definitely believe that."
Thor frowned, catching up to the conversation at a slightly delayed pace. "Brother, did you meddle with the portal?" His tone had the exasperated edge of someone who had asked this question far too many times before.
Loki blinked innocently. Then, with the most exaggerated display of who, me? body language ever, he shook his head.
Harry sighed. "Alright. You know what? That's it. You brought this on yourself." He flicked his wrist and muttered a spell under his breath.
A bright pop of magic filled the air. When the glow subsided, Loki had been replaced with—
"A Chihuahua?" Thor burst out laughing so hard he nearly dropped Mjolnir. "You turned Loki into a tiny dog?"
The newly transformed Loki—now a glossy black Chihuahua with comically large ears and a distinct air of indignation—let out a series of rapid, high-pitched yaps that echoed across the landscape.
Harry smirked, scooping up the furious little dog and holding him at arm's length. "I figured something small, cute, and completely powerless would be a nice change of pace." He tilted his head. "Besides, I hear Chihuahuas have huge egos. Seemed fitting."
Loki squirmed and barked what was probably an entire Shakespearean monologue of curses.
Thor wiped tears from his eyes. "Oh, Brother, you make such an adorable creature of chaos!" He reached out to pet Loki, only for the tiny dog to snap at his fingers. "Ah! Still full of mischief, I see."
Before Loki could commit an act of canine violence, a deep, resonant voice cut through the chaos like a blade.
"Welcome to Asgard."
Harry turned to find Heimdall striding toward them, golden armor gleaming under the Asgardian sun. His piercing gaze—somewhere between all-knowing and slightly amused—swept over the trio, lingering for a fraction of a second on the tiny, furious Chihuahua in Harry's grasp.
If Heimdall was surprised, he didn't show it. Instead, he inclined his head slightly. "It is an honor to receive you here, Seidr."
Harry blinked. "Uh. Thanks?" It was hard to sound dignified when you were holding a wriggling god-turned-Chihuahua.
Heimdall's lips twitched ever so slightly. "I see your journey was… eventful."
Harry sighed. "You have no idea."
Loki let out another indignant yap, his tiny tail bristling.
Heimdall studied the yipping Chihuahua for a long moment. Then, with a barely perceptible nod, he said, "Fitting."
Thor erupted into laughter again. "Oh, I like you, Heimdall."
Heimdall merely turned on his heel. "Come. The Allfather awaits."
As they began the trek across the Rainbow Bridge, Harry took in the sheer grandeur around him. The air hummed with magic, crisp and electric, sending a thrilling buzz through his veins. The whole place felt like it had been waiting for something—or someone.
Harry looked down at Loki, who had stopped struggling and was now sulking in his arms, glaring at nothing in particular.
"Cheer up, Loki," Harry said, unable to resist one last jab. "At least now you have an excuse for barking orders."
Loki's only response was a tiny, furious growl, his narrowed eyes promising vengeance.
Harry grinned. "Yeah, yeah. I'm shaking in my boots."
As they approached the grand halls of Asgard, Harry couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement. Sure, this wasn't how he'd planned his week—or month, for that matter—but if there was one thing he'd learned over the years, it was that the best adventures often came when you least expected them.
And this? This was shaping up to be legendary.
—
As Harry walked through the grand halls of Asgard, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was a very small, very confused extra who had somehow wandered onto the set of a mythological drama. The towering columns gleamed with golden light, the air practically buzzed with energy, and the sheer number of ridiculously good-looking, armor-clad warriors made Harry feel like he had crash-landed into a Viking Abercrombie & Fitch commercial.
And judging by the way they were staring, they were just as confused about him as he was about them.
Then they turned a corner and ran smack into Lady Sif and the Warriors Three.
Immediately, the air shifted. Harry could almost hear the dramatic, tension-filled music swell in the background. Sif, standing at the front, looked like she was about two seconds away from reaching for her sword. Which, knowing his luck, would definitely be sharp.
Thor, oblivious as ever, grinned like they had just walked into a feast. "Sif! Volstagg! Fandral! Hogun! Excellent timing! Allow me to introduce—"
But before he could finish, Sif's glare locked onto Harry like a heat-seeking missile. "Loki," she spat, her voice sharper than a dagger to the ribs. "What trickery is this? Why are you not in chains?"
Harry blinked. "I'm sorry, what now?" he said slowly, making sure he had actually heard her correctly and wasn't just hallucinating from stress.
Thor's grin faltered. "Uh, Sif—"
Sif ignored him and took a threatening step forward, her armor glinting under the golden Asgardian light. "Whatever game you are playing, I will not fall for it," she snapped. "You cannot fool me, Loki."
Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. "Right. So, first off—love the enthusiasm, really—but I'm not Loki. My name's Harry Potter. I'm from Midgard. Not a trickster god. No illusions, no mind games. Just a guy who got very, very lost."
Sif did not look convinced. Volstagg, standing behind her, crossed his arms, stroking his magnificent ginger beard. "He does look suspiciously like Loki," he rumbled.
"He also sounds like Loki," Fandral added, twirling his mustache in that very 'I am the charming rogue' kind of way.
"I don't sound like Loki," Harry argued. "I have a British accent. He has a—" He paused. "Okay, bad example."
Hogun, the silent, brooding one, simply stared at him, looking vaguely unimpressed. Which, to be fair, was probably his resting expression.
Harry turned to Thor, waving a hand. "A little help here, Big Guy?"
Thor, clearly enjoying himself, grinned even wider. "I must admit, Sif, the resemblance is uncanny! But no, this is indeed Harry Potter, a Seidr from Midgard. And Loki is… elsewhere."
Sif narrowed her eyes. "And by 'elsewhere' you mean?"
Thor dramatically held up a small, wriggling Chihuahua.
The Chihuahua growled in a way that somehow managed to sound both furious and deeply offended.
Sif stared. "What," she said, very slowly, "is that?"
Thor beamed. "Loki! Is he not adorable?"
There was a stunned silence. The Warriors Three looked like they were trying to decide whether they were hallucinating or just really, really entertained. Volstagg let out a booming laugh, clutching his belly. "Loki? The God of Mischief? Reduced to… that?"
"I don't know, I feel like this is an improvement," Harry mused. "Less stabbing potential."
The Chihuahua yapped furiously, tiny paws flailing in Thor's grip.
Sif pinched the bridge of her nose, clearly debating whether this was worth a migraine. "Thor. Why is Loki a dog?"
Thor shrugged. "He attempted to deceive Harry into coming to Asgard as a prank. The prank, it seems, has backfired."
Harry smirked. "Yeah, turns out Asgardian spell traps are a little more aggressive than expected. Who knew?"
Sif looked at Loki—the tiny, furious, floofy version of Loki—and sighed, rubbing her temples. "You know what? I don't have the energy for this." Then she turned to Harry. "If you are not Loki, what are you?"
Volstagg chimed in, peering at Harry curiously. "Thor called you a Seidr. But I thought all your kind perished long ago."
"Yeah, about that," Harry said, scratching his head. "Turns out, still some magic left in Midgard. And apparently, I get to be the lucky surprise."
Fandral raised an eyebrow. "And just how powerful is a Midgardian wizard?"
Harry gave him a deadpan look. "I once took down an immortal dark lord at seventeen with nothing but dumb luck and an unhealthy amount of caffeine. You tell me."
Fandral opened his mouth, hesitated, then nodded in reluctant respect. "Fair enough."
Sif, finally conceding that Harry was not, in fact, Loki, sighed. "Well, you've certainly made an impression. Welcome to Asgard, Harry Potter. I suspect things will only get more interesting from here."
Harry sighed. "Yeah. That's what I'm afraid of."
Meanwhile, Loki-the-Chihuahua attempted to bite Thor's hand, failed miserably, and was promptly held up like an angry, wiggling trophy.
It was going to be a long day.
—
Standing in the grand Throne Room of Asgard, Harry had the distinct feeling he'd just walked into the universe's most awkward family reunion. Thor was standing at attention, trying desperately to look like he hadn't just been caught sneaking out after curfew—again. Loki, meanwhile, had been very reduced in status. By Harry, mind you. Loki was now a Chihuahua. Yes, you read that right—a tiny, fluffy, growling bundle of confusion and misplaced godly arrogance.
As for Harry, he couldn't stop marveling at how shiny everything was. Seriously, did they have a team of elves or was it just some Asgardian magic? Because these floors? Shiny enough to blind a guy.
Odin, perched on his mighty throne like some ancient warrior king who had seen it all and then some, stared down from his single glinting eye like he could probably see through the fabric of the universe and into Harry's soul. Which, okay, could be true. Harry wouldn't put it past him. Next to him, Frigga stood like the calm in the storm, probably considering whether to smite someone or bake cookies. "Yes, I've seen it all," her posture seemed to say. "Don't try anything funny, child."
Thor, the ever-dutiful son, stepped forward looking like he'd just been caught with his hand in the interdimensional cookie jar. "Father, Mother," he said, voice booming despite the fact that Harry suspected the floor might swallow him whole. "I come before you with news of—"
But before Thor could get much farther, Odin's single eye locked on the tiny creature clutched in Thor's arms, a creature Harry had definitely seen before but couldn't quite believe was Loki. Loki, in Chihuahua form, was probably giving Odin his best "I'm still dangerous" glare, which was like watching a tiny gremlin try to play poker.
Odin's bushy brow arched higher than Harry had thought possible. "Why is Loki... trapped in the body of that?" he asked, sounding like he'd just discovered the universe's most confusing mystery. You know, aside from why people keep pineapple on pizza.
Thor sighed like this was going to be a long day. "It's a Chihuahua, Father," he muttered, clearly hoping this was some passing phase. "Loki... well, Loki had a hand in this."
"A Chihuahua?" Odin repeated, his voice carrying the same tone you'd use when discussing the concept of 'game shows' for the first time. "I am unfamiliar with such creatures."
Harry couldn't help himself. The guy was a god, and he didn't know about Chihuahuas? Seriously, was that some divine blind spot? Harry bit his lip to keep from laughing. The whole thing felt like watching an ancient king discover modern pop culture. "It's a breed of dog from Midgard," Thor explained, like he was admitting he'd just lost a very embarrassing bet. "Loki... made it happen. It's a long story."
And yeah, Harry figured it was really long. But instead of going into detail about how Loki's plan had ended with the trickster god being transformed into a tiny ball of fur, he just let out a snort. "And I thought my life was complicated," he muttered, but no one seemed to hear him, thank Merlin.
Odin let out a heavy sigh, rubbing his temple like he was trying to ward off a headache. "Loki's penchant for mischief knows no bounds," he grumbled, his voice dripping with all the wisdom and exasperation you'd expect from a god who'd seen literally everything in the universe. "But I suppose it's only fitting that he'd choose to take on the form of... that."
The room went quiet as Thor recounted the events that had led them here—from Loki's grandiose plan to conquer Midgard (again), to the time Harry had somehow ended up in a battle of wits and strength with gods, monsters, and who knows what else. And of course, how Harry, with all the grace of a very confused tourist, had helped save the day.
Sif and the Warriors Three—Volstagg, Fandral, and Hogun—stood off to the side, watching Thor speak with rapt attention, their faces shifting between concern and barely suppressed laughter. When Thor described Loki's epic defeat (which Harry suspected involved a lot more drama and a lot less dignity than he was letting on), they couldn't hold it in any longer. Volstagg snorted like a bull who'd just witnessed the most ridiculous thing in the world, and Fandral's shoulders shook with poorly suppressed laughter.
By the time Thor wrapped up, Harry was feeling like a guest star in his own life. "We owe a debt of gratitude to Harry Potter," Thor declared, raising his voice like he was making a major proclamation. "He may be an outsider, but he fought alongside us with bravery and honor. He deserves our respect and thanks." Thor finished his speech with all the grandeur of someone who had definitely read too many epic poems in his life.
Odin took his time, looking thoughtful. Harry felt that heavy gaze like an actual weight pressing down on him. After a long pause, Odin finally nodded. "Indeed, he has proven himself a worthy ally," he said, and Harry couldn't decide if the way Odin looked at him was like a judge or an eccentric uncle. Either way, the god seemed to decide Harry was officially on the Asgardian VIP list.
"Welcome to Asgard, Harry Potter," Odin boomed, his voice filling the massive room. "We are grateful for your aid in thwarting the schemes of my wayward son. Your bravery and skill have not gone unnoticed."
Harry swallowed, trying to remember how to breathe. "Uh... thank you, Your Majesty," he said, all politeness, even as his brain tried to process the fact that Odin just welcomed him into his realm like he was an honored guest. He really, really hoped this wasn't some elaborate plot to get him to clean up the Asgardian bathroom or something.
Frigga stepped forward, her gaze sharp but kind. She had that look of someone who knew exactly how things worked and probably had a backup plan for everything—like she had already mapped out the next three steps of this conversation. "I would be honored to engage in a discussion with you, Harry Potter," she said, her voice calm yet commanding, like a gentle ocean wave that was still a force to be reckoned with. "Your presence here raises many questions, and I am eager to learn more about your origins and the powers you possess."
Harry smiled awkwardly. "Uh, sure. I'm happy to answer whatever questions you have." He paused, suddenly realizing just how much explaining he was about to do. "But, fair warning—'wizard' doesn't exactly translate well across realms. So... yeah. This is gonna be fun."
And with that, Harry's grand tour of Asgard was about to take a very, very strange turn. Just another day in the life of a guy who couldn't quite figure out how he kept ending up in these cosmic messes.
—
Odin's voice rang through the grand hall like a cannon blast, making the whole place feel a little more like a coliseum and a little less like a banquet hall. "People of Asgard!" he bellowed, his one eye scanning the room like he was a hawk on the lookout for any stray gods causing trouble. "Today, we honor the valor and courage of my son Thor and his companions, who have fought to protect both our realm and Midgard. Their victory shall go down in the annals of history, and I say… it's about time we celebrate!"
And by "celebrate," Odin clearly meant "throw a feast that will go down in myth." The crowd erupted into applause, cheering louder than a stadium full of fans at the final match of the Quidditch World Cup. Even the rafters seemed to vibrate with the sound of boisterous claps and hollers. Harry, not used to being the center of attention—especially not this kind of attention—awkwardly shuffled his feet, trying to decide whether to bow, wave, or just pretend he'd accidentally stumbled into the middle of a family reunion.
"Let me tell you, you haven't truly lived until you've had an Asgardian feast," Thor said, his booming voice cutting through the cheers. The god of thunder was looking particularly pleased with himself—big grin, golden hair looking like it was permanently wind-swept, and the kind of aura that said, "Yes, I did just save the day. Again." His arm draped over Loki (who, let's face it, was still trying to figure out how to work the whole "Chihuahua" thing), looking proud, like a big brother who had just gotten his sibling out of some ridiculous mess.
But Thor's moment of glory didn't last long because Odin, always the master of the room, raised his hand for silence. The hall fell as quiet as a mouse at a lion's convention.
"But wait, there's more," Odin added, his voice now a mix of mystery and mischievousness. He scanned the room like a grizzled detective hunting down the bad guys, his eye locking onto Harry in a way that made him feel like he was about to be dragged into the plot of some long-forgotten saga. "Among us stands a guest who played an unexpected but crucial role in securing this victory—a friend from another realm who's proven himself worthy to stand by the gods and warriors of Asgard."
Cue the applause. This time, it was for Harry. They were clapping and whistling like he'd just walked out of a hero's journey montage, and he had absolutely no idea what to do with that. Should he bow? Should he wave? Should he just pretend to be cool with the whole thing and go grab a turkey leg?
The truth was, Harry was feeling incredibly out of his depth. One minute, he was trying to survive a battle with cosmic forces, and the next minute, he was being hailed as a hero in a hall full of gods. And it wasn't like he could just brush it off—Odin had just basically made him an honorary member of the Asgardian family, and that was… a lot.
He lifted his goblet in a kind of half-toast, unsure of whether he should say something profound or just wing it like he always did.
"To Asgard!" Harry shouted over the noise, suddenly feeling more than a little tipsy from the overwhelming goodwill of it all. "To Thor, to the Avengers, and most importantly, to never having to fight space whales again."
The laughter that followed was like thunderclaps of their own, echoing off the golden walls. Even Odin cracked a smile—well, as much as a guy with one eye and a perpetually serious face could smile.
"You speak the truth, young wizard," Odin rumbled, his voice deeper than a thousand earthquakes. "Though the space whales may be defeated, I do not doubt that our journeys are far from over."
"But enough about the cosmic battles," Frigga interjected, stepping forward with a grace that could probably stop time if she felt like it. "It's not every day that we host someone from Midgard, especially one who has proven himself in such a grand manner. We must hear from you, Harry Potter."
Oh, fantastic. Now the Queen of Asgard wanted to know all about his life story. Harry mentally prepared himself for a full-on interrogation. He'd never been good at explaining magic to people who didn't have wands, and now he had to explain the whole "I'm the Boy Who Lived, but I've also seen some weird things" story to the gods. Great.
"Well," Harry began, trying to look casual despite the fact that he was standing in front of the most powerful gods in existence, "it's like this. I grew up on Earth—Midgard, I mean—and things got weird fast. I fought dark wizards, went to a magical school, died a couple of times, had a lot of awkward moments with friends…" He trailed off, realizing he had just thrown out a lot of information and probably sounded like he was pitching the weirdest movie ever made.
Frigga raised an eyebrow, clearly more amused than shocked. "You've had a... unique life, Harry Potter."
"Unique? That's one way of putting it." Harry grinned, his usual self-deprecating humor kicking in. "It's like the universe decided I was the 'chosen one' and then said, 'Let's see how much chaos we can throw his way.'"
Thor slapped him on the back with a laugh, nearly knocking him off his feet. "This one is a true hero!" he boomed, earning a glare from Sif, who, despite her usual stern demeanor, couldn't help but smile at the camaraderie between them.
"Don't let him fool you," Sif said dryly, her sharp eyes scanning Harry as though trying to detect any weakness. "He's lucky to be alive after some of his 'chosen one' moments."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Is that a challenge? Because, trust me, I've survived worse. Like, way worse. You wouldn't believe the things I've had to do to survive the whole... saves the world gig. Try facing down a Basilisk without blinking."
Sif chuckled, a sound that seemed surprisingly warm coming from someone who could kill you with one look. "You may have earned your place among us, wizard."
As the night wore on, the conversation flowed as freely as the mead, and Harry found himself surrounded by Asgardian warriors who were more than happy to swap battle stories, each one more ridiculous than the last. He was learning that, in Asgard, if you couldn't laugh at yourself, you were probably going to be roasted alive—or worse, ignored.
By the end of the night, Harry had managed to drink a toast to his new friends, survive a conversation with the Queen of Asgard, and even make Loki (who was still in dog form) bark with laughter—though that may have just been because Harry had, for the second time that evening, called him a glorified handbag. All in all, not a bad day.
And when Thor raised his goblet to him and shouted, "To Harry Potter, who survived Loki's latest scheme!" Harry couldn't help but grin.
Maybe being a hero in Asgard wasn't so bad after all.
---
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