Chapter 34: What about flying?

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This had resulted in the spawning of what was essentially a skin-tight layer of clothing split into leggings, a top, and matching gloves covering all of Harry's body but for his head.

It was carved with a range of near invisible runes, each working together to make it resistant against damage – and of course to make it cold and comfortable.

It would not stop the large majority of spells, but making a magic-resistant version would consume too much power and would need to be made out of special metals or other powerful materials.

Unlike a real metal suit of armour, his "armour," as he mockingly called it, was easily hidden under normal clothes, so he also wouldn't have to walk around looking like an Asgardian soldier – a great advantage when trying to blend in.

As he grew more powerful, he would be able to afford to put more power into his armour to the point where he wouldn't even be staggered by sniper rifle rounds – provided that they didn't go through his head, of course.

That was a problem he would need to fix. Loki could heal wounds on his body anyway; the armour just greatly decreased the needed energy. A serious brain injury was another matter entirely.

Loki lived within his mind, his soul, and if they were destroyed, he would most likely go with them.

Nonetheless, wearing a helmet would be too attention-drawing to do, and in a few years he would be naturally bulletproof anyway.

For now, it would be best to stay out of trouble. Unfortunately, he wasn't very good at that.

A few hours later, Harry found himself starting a brawl against a few muggle thugs to test out the effectiveness of his armour.

Well, brawl implied that there was a chance of either side winning, when it really consisted of him standing there deflecting blows that came at his face and laughing as the fists of his opponents broke against his armour without harming him in the slightest.

'I feel like Superman or something.' Harry paused. 'Do you think there's a laser vision spell?'

'Probably, but it doesn't seem like it would be very convenient.'

Harry glared at the now fleeing muggles, willing his magic to surge up and raze them in a blast of red-hot light. Suffice to say, it didn't work.

'What about flying?' he asked. 'Flying would be convenient.'

Loki sighed. 'That's what they have broomsticks for, but it would be unwise to trust mortal enchantment – especially if they thought that broomsticks were the best objects to make fly.' Disdain was clear in his tone. 'I suppose that it will eventually be possible for us to achieve flight. No wizard has managed to, but that isn't saying much. I highly doubt you will be breaking the sound barrier any time soon, however.' He paused for a moment.

'I think I have an idea about what we need to enchant next, and no, it's not to do with flying, or laser vision.'

A black-cloaked figure stood over a table, a razor-sharp knife gleaming in his hand as he carved into the object below him. If his face had not been concealed by a gleaming white skull mask, his maniacal grin would have been visible. Red eyes shone from within the mask, staring down upon his work.

"Yes," he hissed. "My precious."

Suddenly, something in the air around him seemed to shift, his magic-enhanced senses the only thing allowing him to sense the minor change.

He looked up for a moment, searching for any unseen enemy, and that was enough to distract him, causing him to let go of the tight leash he was holding upon his magic in order to power the runes.

A bright gold light burst from the object upon the table, the power in the unfinished runes exploding outwards and throwing the figure backwards.

He crashed against the wall and felt his magic flare slightly as it flowed through his clothes and protected him from the impact. Nonetheless, he let out a groan.

'Loki, what the hell was that?'

For once, the god sounded confused. 'I'm not really sure. It felt almost as if there was a tug on your magic, but I cannot sense the intent behind it.' He paused as he racked through his brain for more information.

'The closest thing I can think of is an attempted summoning ritual, but you cannot summon a mortal.'

'Perhaps they were trying to summon you?' Harry suggested.

'I do not think so. As far as I am aware, there are no rituals to summon Asgardians, but perhaps because I am a spirit….' he trailed off. 'Anyway, start working on your wand again, and for God's sake take off that Halloween costume; that ridiculous mask is blocking your vision. You're too old for trick-or-treating anyway, and no one even does it in England.'

'Oh relax, killjoy. You're never too old to go around terrifying people. My costume is awesome enough, and with illusions added to it….' Harry cackled in a decidedly Loki-esque manner.

'Whatever. Now finish the runes on the wand if you want to get out.'

'Fine, fine,' Harry thought, moving back to the table only to find it smashed with his wand lying unharmed amongst the wreckage. Casting a quick repairing charm, he got back to work.

A few hours of inhumanly precise and elaborate carving later, Harry stood in the middle of relatively undamaged room holding his wand, a few more runes now carved into its surface.

"Here we go," he muttered, and then began to channel his willpower into it, willing the new runes into action. For a moment it glowed a gentle gold, and then elongated into a spear of Asgardian design.

Harry sighed in relief, willing it back into its original form. 'Are you bloody happy now Loki? I have a spear, but no idea whatsoever how to use it.'

'It is rather simple,' said Loki. 'You point the spear at them and then use it to defeat them in combat.' Harry snorted. 'Anyway, you go and enjoy your Halloween. Strike terror into the hearts of mortals.'

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