Loki Odinson and the Prisoner Of Azkaban

Chapter 6; Concern

(Told from Hermione's point of view)

The news of Loki's boggart had traveled like a wildfire around the school. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened after that class, but people still gave disapproving looks when they looked at Loki.

My perspective of him hadn't changed, he was still Loki, still light hearted and sarcastic, still determined. I was extremely blessed to have him helping me with my homework. It was getting overwhelming, and without his help I probably would have felt incredibly unhappy.

I overheard Malfoy speaking to Loki during one of the potions classes. I believe that Professor Snape was somewhat thankful for Loki's boggart, because he had caught wind of the story of Neville's boggart, which would probably have been way more popular if Loki hadn't literally exploded a live person.

Malfoy had leaned over to Loki and whispered; "I guess you don't have a Firebolt, because you never showed up to the Quidditch pitch."

"You actually did go there? Well if you don't mind, I was quite sidetracked that day, if you remember." He snaps at him. Malfoy was making Loki skin his ingredients again.

"Oh yeah, when you splattered blood all over my robes? Thought it would be real funny to make a huge mess, did you?" He says.

"It wasn't my fault!" Loki spits, skinning the shrivelfig more vigorously. He was probably thinking that he had enough punishment from Filch, who was treating Loki with increasing disrespect, due to the fact that it was him who had to scrub the room of inner organs and blood.

"I think it was your fault, actually." Malfoy retorts. "You have no idea how mad my father was at you when he found out that my robes—"

Loki takes the skinning knife and stabs it in between Malfoy's index and middle finger. Malfoy gasps and for some reason doesn't remove his hand from the table.

"What the hell?" Malfoy says to Loki.

"You're father sounds like a whiny little Princess to me. So if you're done complaining, I advise you to back off." He spits, standing up.

"Loki..." I whisper, tugging at his sleeve for him to sit down. Professor Snape was eyeing him angrily.

"Sit down." He snarls. Loki slowly takes a seat, a sour expression on his face. He takes the knife out of the table and places it back on the shrivelfig.

"That's detention." Snape snaps. "See me after class."

Loki twirls the knife on his forefinger. "That works out well for me."

The Quidditch season had begun, and Loki was starting to fall behind on his homework. I helped him through it while everyone else was already in bed, and he seemed to appreciate me staying up to help him.

Occasionally he'd walk in soaked with mud and water. He didn't even seem to take the team seriously, even though he put on an act in front of the rest of the team. From what Harry told me, Loki was a fantastic chaser. He said it might be his broom that helped him, but otherwise he was great.

The first Hogsmeade trip drove the boggart incident clean out of all our minds. It was coming up, but a few other things surfaced before it.

Ron was positively pissed at my cat Crookshanks. He continued to describe how he was attracted to Scabbers unlike any other cat, even though both me and Loki thought that wasn't really an acceptable explanation. All cats were attracted to rats— and Scabbers was no exception.

Another thing— apparently Lavender's rabbit was killed by a fox. The worst thing was that she was predicting it would happen based off of some stupid thing Professor Trelawney had said. This had angered Loki as well— because he started to nitpick the prediction.