Chapter 22: Christmas Spirit
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"Hey, kid!" one called, but Harry kept moving with only a glance backwards. "I'm talking to you!"
As someone began an incantation of what sounded to be a stunning spell, Harry dodged to the left and broke out into a sprint, the noise of swearing and chairs clattering to the floor sounding behind him, making him conceal a smirk. I
t hadn't been guaranteed that they would follow someone who ran, but he supposed that they almost never got lone children around these parts and that it was too great an opportunity to miss.
Rounding the corner, he slowed down a bit, gasping as though he was out of breath. At his full speed, he would probably leave them behind after a short time, and that would be inconvenient.
As the men came around the same corner he just had, they seemed to hesitate, but Harry's boss barked out an order that too much spellfire would gain attention and to keep on pursuing the child on foot.
So Harry kept on running, going around one bend and then another, finally reaching a dilapidated courtyard with no path of escape.
Fear in his eyes, Harry backed up to the wall as the men jogged around the corner, his target leading with the others behind him, wands in hand.
"Well, well, well," began the target. "I-"
He got no further as spells began to rain down upon him and his men from the first floor windows of a house on one side of the courtyard. Instantly they had put up shield charms, but those, unfortunately for them, didn't stop the barrage of curses that began to explode from the other buildings, wizards bursting out from behind cover and into the courtyard.
In an instant the group's ranks were reduced to two people, and those fell a moment later, slammed against a wall by an overpowered banishing charm. Marco dropped from one of the windows, cushioning his fall before walking over to Harry and tossing him the bag of money.
"Good job, kid. I hope to-"
He was interrupted as Harry knocked him aside with a flick of his wand, sending him flying out of the path of a green spell as a wizard on the floor hissed, "Avada Kedavra!"
The man didn't have time to utter another incantation as a cutting curse from Harry met his throat.
Marco looked slightly stunned for a moment, but then turned to Harry with a grin. "As I was saying, I hope to work together again, and I think you've earned yourself another bag of gold."
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Harry whistled merrily as he entered the shop, bells jingling overhead as the door was opened. For what must've been the thousandth time that week, Loki sighed. 'Can you please stop whistling?'
'Nope, I'm trying to get in the Christmas spirit.'
Loki snorted. 'You're not a Christian and you have a Norse god living inside your head.'
'If you can die, you're not really a god.'
'I wish I hadn't told you that.' Loki sighed once again. 'Compared to humans, I am a god. Is that good enough for you?'
'I could argue that compared to humans, I'm a god.'.
'You could argue, but you would be arguing against me and would therefore lose, seeing as compared to you, I am a god.' Loki's tone held nothing but confidence, and Harry had no doubt that he would lose any argument against the silver-tongued, millennia old trickster – not that it stopped him from trying, of course.
'Well if you're a god, why can't you stop me whistling?' he asked, though he already knew the answer. He just enjoyed mocking Loki.
'We both know fully well that I could stop you, I just don't want to cause you to have a seizure.'
After being in Italy for over a year, Harry had picked up quite a bit concerning Occulumency, helped by Loki's expertise at the mental arts.
Since Harry had wanted to keep Loki's presence close, seeing as he needed him for guidance and channelling Asgardian spells, he needed to keep Loki within his barriers.
This meant that whilst Loki could now read his thoughts to a level he couldn't before, he was effectively within Harry's domain, thus having less control over him and his annoying whistling habit.
Loki, being as skilled as he was, could definitely stop Harry if he wanted to, though the required effort would annoy him more than the whistling did and would leave Harry in immense pain, unable to defend himself against any exterior threats.
Suffice to say, Loki didn't care enough about Harry's "Christmas Spirit" to stop him.
Still whistling Harry moved up to the counter of the shop and looked around. He hummed thoughtfully. "I want the….um, let me think. Oh yeah, the protection money please."
The shopkeeper jumped slightly, clearly surprised as his hand crept for his wand. "What are you? Eleven? I ain't giving money to a-"
He was interrupted as Harry muttered, "I'm twelve actually, and Expelliarmus," and sent him flying into the shelves behind him.
Switching his whistling into humming, Harry vaulted over the counter and blasted the lock off of a drawer, standing on the groaning shopkeeper as he rooted through the money, taking a little extra as reparations for the additional effort the man had caused by resisting.
Hopping back over the counter, he exited the store with a jovial, "Goodbye, and Merry Christmas! Be sure to pay next month if you want to keep selling dark artefacts without the authorities breathing down your neck and your legs broken!"
He strolled down the alley confidently, his wand firmly in his hand. While a child was usually an easy target, this being very near Orrizo Alley, the Italian equivalent of Diagon Alley, he was probably safe. If someone did choose to attack him, however, things weren't going to turn out well for them.
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