A/N: Hello! I know that demigods (particularly Nico) attending Hogwarts is an overused plotline, but I've done my best to make my version unique. This is set during Philosopher's Stone and between Battle of the Labyrinth and The Last Olympian, so I hope that's a good start. Also, I personally find it very irritating how many fics like this end up abandoned mid-year, so I have written the entire AU of Philosopher's Stone before posting this. I promise you, this fic will not be abandoned.

I am aware that that PJO and HP are not canonically concurrent, but for the purposes of this fic, Philosopher's Stone is set from 2007-2008. No HP characters are demigods, nor are any of them aware that Greek myths are real.

Just to be clear: Nico is 100% gay in this fic. He and Hermione will not be a couple.

(Actually, this first chapter is set about halfway through Battle of the Labyrinth. The rest of the fic will be between BotL and TLO.)

I do not own either Harry Potter or Percy Jackson and the Olympians.

And last but not least...Merry Christmas! On with the fic!


It was not an uncommon sight for a wide-eyed eleven-year-old child in Muggle clothing to enter the Leaky Cauldron during the summer. However, it was an uncommon sight for said child to be carrying a black sword—and for the child to enter from the cellar.

"Hey, you!" called Tom, the bartender. "What were you doing in my cellar?"

"Hiding from telekhines," the boy replied in an American accent, his eyes darting around the room. "Where am I?"

"You don't know the Leaky Cauldron, boy?" Tom asked.

"Never heard of it. Am I in England?"

"You don't know what country you're in?" a nearby witch asked skeptically.

The boy shrugged. "I've made a few accidental trips to China before."

The entire pub was staring at the boy now. He shrank slightly under the scrutiny. After a few moments, Tom sighed. "Where are your parents?"

"Dead."

Tom grimaced, then made a decision. "You know what? Have a room for the night, on me. I've got to send an owl. What's your name, boy?"

The boy narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Nico di Angelo."

"Right then. I'm Tom. Come with me, Mr. di Angelo." Tom led Nico upstairs. Nico kept a tight grip on his sword, looking as if he expected to be attacked. At room 11, Tom opened the door and gestured for Nico to go inside. "Make yourself comfortable. I'll have someone send up dinner for you later."

"Thank you," Nico said stiffly. As soon as Tom was out of the room, Nico slammed the door.

Sighing again, Tom made his way to his private study and pulled out a quill and parchment.

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

An odd boy named Nico di Angelo has just turned up in my pub. He dresses like a Muggle and has an American accent, but I've little doubt that he's a wizard. The boy claims he has no parents and seems to be roaming the world on his own. I couldn't bring myself to throw him out. Any advice or aid would be welcome.

Sincerely,

Tom


Nico seriously considered shadow-traveling out of the room the minute Tom was gone, but he was tired. He'd killed at least a dozen telekhines before admitting to himself that he was overwhelmed and making a tactical retreat. He'd barreled through the first Labyrinth exit he found, apparently in the cellar of this "Leaky Cauldron".

Nico collapsed onto the bed and rubbed his eyes, thinking back to the last time he'd seen his sister. Bianca wanted him to let go of his anger toward Percy. But she didn't even know the full reason why Nico was so angry. He wanted to hate Percy for what had happened to Bianca, and yet Percy was so heroic…so handsome

No. He couldn't think like that. He wouldn't.

Bianca wanted him to smooth things over with Percy. So he was going to honor his sister's wishes and find the aggravatingly amazing son of Poseidon and make amends. As soon as he'd had a good night's sleep.


Nico was woken by an owl tapping at his window. He blinked a few times, wondering if he was really awake yet. Then he remembered what Tom had said about "sending an owl", and noticed the letter clutched in the owl's claws. Nico cautiously opened the window and took the letter. It was written in cursive, which was murder on his dyslexia, but eventually he figured out that it was offering him a place at a school for magic. Ridiculous. He was a child of Hades, not Hecate.

But…it would be good to have somewhere to stay that wasn't camp or his father's palace. Somewhere people didn't know what he was, somewhere he wasn't treated like dirt or weeds (Persephone was not a fun stepmother). And besides, maybe he would discover some hidden talent for magic.

His mind made up, Nico was ready to reply when he realized he didn't have a pen. He went downstairs and asked Tom, only for Tom to offer him a quill and an inkwell. After double checking that the Labyrinth hadn't sent him back in time (hey, he'd once been sent forward in time, anything was possible), Nico crafted an acceptance letter and sent it off with the owl, who looked quite relieved to get away from him.

That done, Nico turned his attention to the list of supplies. It was much longer than the letter, and equally hard to read. Nico gave up and decided to go back downstairs and find someone to read it for him. He almost crashed into a severe-looking witch in emerald green robes. The witch was accompanied by a middle-aged couple and a bushy-haired girl about Nico's age, all in normal clothing.

"Sorry," Nico mumbled.

The witch gave him an appraising look. "Are you the young Mr. di Angelo that Tom wrote about?"

"Uh…yes?"

The witch turned to the couple. "Would it be all right if Mr. di Angelo joins us? He is new to Hogwarts as well."

Nico choked. "Hogwarts? I thought I misread that!"

"No, you read correctly," the witch replied. "You have been offered a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and I presume you are also in need of supplies."

"Yes," Nico admitted. "I was just looking for someone to ask about that."

"It's all right, he can join us," the man spoke up. His wife nodded agreement.

"Nico di Angelo, this is Hermione Granger," the witch said, indicating the girl. "Hermione Granger, Nico di Angelo. And I am Minerva McGonagall, professor of Transfiguration and deputy headmistress of Hogwarts."

"Nice to meet you," Nico said politely.

"Nice to meet you too," Hermione said with a smile. Then she frowned. "Why do you have a sword?"

Her parents looked bewildered. "Sword? What are you talking about? What sword?"

"It's a special sword," Nico answered. "Most people can't see it. And you'd carry one too if everything and its ugly cousins wanted to kill you."

"Want to kill you?" Hermione repeated blankly. "Why would someone want to kill you?"

"I have the opposite of natural charm."

"Me too," Hermione said somewhat sadly. "My classmates say I'm insufferable. They don't even try to say it behind my back. But no one's ever tried to kill me."

"Consider yourself lucky," Nico said grumpily as they followed Professor McGonagall into the courtyard behind the pub.

"You sound American," Hermione noted. "What brings you to England?"

"I got lost."

"You…got lost and ended up on another continent?" Hermione's mother asked skeptically.

"Still not as bad as the times I ended up in China."

"How did you end up in China?" Hermione demanded, sounding fascinated.

"Long story," Nico said irritably. If he'd known that this new school would come with so many personal questions, he might not have said yes.

Hermione looked ready to say more, but at that moment Professor McGonagall took out a wooden stick and tapped a brick near a trash can. An archway appeared in the wall, leading onto the most bizarre street Nico had ever seen (and he'd seen some very bizarre things). There were shops selling all manner of strange merchandise—cauldrons, racing brooms, owls, potion ingredients, and for some reason an ice cream shop.

Hermione and her parents seemed just as impressed as Nico was. They looked around, their eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. Then Hermione spotted a bookstore and practically bounced with excitement. "Ooh, are we going there?"

"First we will go to Gringotts, the wizarding bank," Professor McGonagall replied. "Wizards use different currency from Muggles, so you will need to change your money."

"What's a Muggle?" Nico wondered.

"Someone without magic," Professor McGonagall explained.

"Are you from a family without magic too?" Hermione asked.

Nico hesitated before answering. "I don't know. My parents are dead and I don't remember them."

"Oh. I'm so sorry," Hermione said sympathetically.

Nico started as he realized something. "Uh, Professor? I'm not sure I have enough money to cover everything."

"Not to worry," Professor McGonagall assured. "Hogwarts has a fund for students with financial difficulties."

Nico scowled. He didn't want to be a charity case. But he supposed it was better than grave robbing, which was the source of most of his funds. Honestly, it's not like the dead minded. He should know. He'd asked a few ghosts just to be sure.

Gringotts turned out to be the large marble building that towered over the shops. It had burnished bronze doors, guarded by short humanoid creatures in scarlet-and-gold uniforms.

"What are those?" Nico asked suspiciously. As a demigod, he'd learned to mistrust anything that wasn't human. And some humans as well.

"Those are goblins," Professor McGonagall explained. "It's best to be polite with them."

Nico filed the information away in his mind as they passed through the bronze doors. There was a second set behind them, this time silver with words engraved on them. Nico didn't bother trying to read the inscription, though Hermione read it with interest.

Past the doors, they entered a large marble hall. About a hundred goblins manned (goblinned?) a long counter. Professor McGonagall led them up to a goblin who currently had no customers. "Good day, Gornuk," she said crisply. "We'll be needing—"

"Ah, Mr. di Angelo," Gornuk interrupted, peering over the counter at Nico. "Your father told us you'd be coming."

"My father told you about me?" Nico repeated, surprised.

Hermione shot him a look of confusion. "I thought you said your parents are dead."

"That's what I've been told," Nico replied irritably. Technically, it was true—the lawyer who'd taken him and Bianca out of the Lotus Hotel had told them that they were orphans.

Gornuk cleared his throat. "He informed us that you would be needing access to Vault 13. Ragnuk!" Another goblin came through a nearby doorway. "Take Mr. di Angelo to his father's vault."

"Right this way, Mr. di Angelo," Ragnuk said, picking up a bag of metal tools and indicating the doorway he'd just come through.

Nico glanced nervously at the Grangers and Professor McGonagall. Professor McGonagall smiled reassuringly. "We'll wait for you."

Nico swallowed nervously. "Okay." He followed the goblin, tightly gripping his sword. Ragnuk led him into a stone passageway lit by torches. It sloped steeply downwards and there were small railway tracks on the floor. Ragnuk whistled and a small cart came hurtling up to them. They climbed in and then the cart took off again at breakneck speed. Nico felt slightly better now that he was underground, but he didn't entirely trust the goblin.

The cart finally stopped deep underground. A dragon was chained to the ground in front of them. The dragon looked pale and ill, as if it hadn't seen the light of day in decades. The dragon turned and snarled at them. Nico instantly drew his sword. "You led me into a trap!" he exclaimed angrily, not taking his eyes off the dragon.

"Not to worry, Mr. di Angelo, the dragon is part of our defenses," Ragnuk assured. He opened his bag, took out a metal tool and began shaking it. It made a loud, ringing noise like numerous hammers on anvils. The dragon retreated, trembling. Nico now saw that there were several vaults behind it. Ragnuk led him up to the vault labeled "13" and put his palm to the door.

The door melted away. Nico reluctantly sheathed his sword and looked inside. His jaw dropped. The vault was massive, containing piles and piles of gold, silver and bronze coins. One of the walls was lined with Stygian Iron weapons. There was a mound of various gems in a far corner.

Ragnuk handed Nico a bag. He filled it with coins, then took another look around the vault. His eyes fell on a skull-shaped silver ring hanging on a hook by the Stygian Iron weapons. On a hunch, Nico picked it up and put it on his finger. He twisted it around so that the skull faced his palm, and the ring suddenly transformed into another Stygian Iron sword identical to the one he currently carried. He twisted the new sword in his grip and it turned back into a ring. Nico decided to leave his old sword with the other weapons. If clear-sightedness was common among wizards, it would be best to use a concealable weapon.


"Where's your sword?" Hermione asked when he returned to the main hall.

"Left it in the vault," Nico shrugged. "If I'm a wizard, I'm hardly going to need a sword, am I?"

"That may be for the best," Professor McGonagall interjected. "Students are not permitted to carry swords at Hogwarts. Now, let's move along. I don't have all day."

"Can we get the books now?" Hermione asked, bouncing excitedly again.

"I don't see why not," Professor McGonagall replied, leading them back out onto the street.

Hermione turned to Nico. "What was the vault like?"

"Big," Nico replied. He hesitated, then decided to play up the clueless orphan story. "And full. Apparently Dad is insanely wealthy. Don't know why he waited until now to share it out." Nico scowled for full effect.

"Wow. I wonder who he is," Hermione said thoughtfully. "He has a vault at Gringotts, so he's probably English…or at least British…"

"I don't care who he is," Nico interrupted. "He can't buy my affection."

"But aren't you curious?" Hermione demanded, eyes wide.

"In my experience, investigating mysteries is a good way to get attacked."

Hermione looked thoughtful for a few moments, then she spoke again. "If your parents are dead—or mysteriously absent—then who do you live with?"

"No one. I look after myself."

Hermione gasped. "Doesn't America have an organization that finds homes for orphans?"

Nico shrugged. "Maybe. I make an effort to avoid adults, usually."

Hermione shook her head, staring at him like he was the most fascinating thing she'd ever seen. "And you've actually survived on your own all this time?"

"Obviously."

At that moment, they arrived at the bookstore. Hermione looked entranced. "Can we look around?" she begged. "Just for a little bit?"

"Very well," Professor McGonagall relented.

Hermione grabbed her mother's hand and tugged her over to a section labeled "Hsotryi". Upon closer inspection, Nico realized that it actually read "History". He wandered away, wondering if there was a section of books in Ancient Greek. As it turned out, there was, but the only textbooks with Ancient Greek translations were A History of Magic, Magical Theory and Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. Nico decided to buy the English versions of these books as well, just for appearances' sake.

When he met up with Professor McGonagall and the Grangers, Hermione's father was staggering under the weight of a massive pile of books. Clearly, Hermione had bought more than just the required textbooks. Nico raised an eyebrow at her. "I'm going to go out on a limb and guess you like reading."

"Yes," Hermione confirmed, slightly pink. "Do you?"

"I'm dyslexic, so…not really."

"You're dyslexic?" Hermione gasped. "That's so terrible! If you like, I can help you with reading assignments."

"Uh…thanks," Nico said reluctantly. He hated needing help, but he'd be a fool to reject the offer—and, deep down, he kind of appreciated that Hermione didn't seem scared of him or put off by his surly attitude.

After leaving the bookstore, they went on to buy cauldrons, potion ingredients, telescopes and robes (Nico was tremendously thankful that the uniform was black). Last on the list was a wand for each student. Professor McGonagall led them to a shabby looking shop at the end of the Alley. In the dusty window, a wooden stick sat on a faded purple cushion.

When they entered, a bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop. The interior was as shabby and dusty as the exterior. Thousands of narrow boxes were piled right up to the ceiling. Nico glanced again at the stick on the cushion, and suddenly remembered Professor McGonagall using a similar one to open the archway. "Are those wooden things…wands?" he asked skeptically.

"Yes," Professor McGonagall replied, sounding surprised by the question. "A wand is a witch or wizard's most essential tool. It is nearly impossible to perform controlled magic without one."

Nico frowned at that. He'd found that sometimes his sword helped focus his Underworld powers, but he certainly didn't need it to control his abilities. Perhaps this was why he'd never noticed a talent for any other kind of magic.

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice. Nico jumped and reached for his sword before remembering that he'd switched it out for his new ring. An old man was standing before them, his pale eyes shining in the dimly-lit shop.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Ollivander," Professor McGonagall replied. "This is Hermione Granger and Nico di Angelo."

"First years, I presume?" Ollivander asked. Professor McGonagall confirmed this with a nod. Ollivander pulled a tape measure out of his pocket and turned to Hermione. "Which is your wand arm?"

"Right," Hermione replied in a small voice. She looked a bit unnerved by the old man.

"I see." Ollivander turned to Nico, leaving the tape measure to measure Hermione all by itself. "And you?"

"Also right," Nico answered, unfazed by the man's misty demeanor. He wasn't any creepier than the ghosts that Nico dealt with on a regular basis.

Ollivander left a second tape measure to measure Nico and he began browsing the shelves. "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand."

He pulled out two boxes. "Here we are then." The tape measures fell to the floor. Ollivander opened a box and held a wand out to Hermione. "Walnut and unicorn hair. 28 centimeters. Give it a wave." Hermione waved it, but nothing happened.

"Hmm." Ollivander offered the other wand to Nico. "Ash and phoenix feather. 23 centimeters." Nico took it and waved it, but again nothing happened.

"Not to worry," Ollivander said cheerfully, returning to the shelves. "The wand chooses the wizard. We'll find the right matches soon enough." He brought out another pair of wands and offered one to Hermione. "Try this one—maple and dragon heartstring. 26 centimeters." Hermione waved it, again with no result.

"Ah well," Ollivander shrugged, giving the other wand to Nico. "Ebony and unicorn hair, 30 centimeters." Still nothing.

Ollivander brought out more and more wands. After ten minutes, Hermione found her match in a vinewood and dragon heartstring wand which emitted a stream of red and gold sparks the moment it touched her hand. Nico had no such luck. It was nearly half an hour before he finally managed to get his own stream of sparks. His wand was yew and dragon heartstring. Nico wondered if he should have suggested yew in the first place—it was a symbol of death, after all.

Professor McGonagall left them after that, telling them that she had other business to attend to but they should feel free to browse. Nico was fully prepared to leave right then and there, but Hermione had other ideas. "Come on, Nico, let's look at the Magical Menagerie!" she said excitedly.

"That's probably not a good idea," Nico replied. "Animals are typically scared of me."

"Maybe magical animals will be different," Hermione suggested. "Come on, you're in a magical shopping center, you can't just buy your school supplies and leave without looking at anything else!"

Well…Nico was curious about this wizarding world. He supposed it couldn't hurt to stay here a little longer. He followed Hermione into the Magical Menagerie.

His entrance was met with a great deal of hissing and growling as nearly every animal turned to stare at him. "Wow, you weren't joking," Hermione observed, eyes wide.

"I should probably leave…" Nico began, but he trailed off as his Underworld senses began tingling. They led him to the back of the shop, where a black kitten was desperately trying to escape her cage. The kitten was clearly undead—her eyes glowed red and she was missing massive chunks of flesh, including a piece of her throat. She tried to meow at Nico, though it came out as a hybrid meow and hiss. Moments later, she succeeded in clawing away a corner of her cage and leaped into Nico's arms. She began rasping her desiccated tongue over his cheek.

"Is that…a zombie kitten?" Hermione asked, coming up behind him.

"Yep," Nico replied, awkwardly petting the kitten.

Hermione cautiously reached out her hand. The kitten sniffed her, then licked her too. "He's very friendly," Hermione observed.

"She," Nico corrected, though he wasn't sure how he knew. He walked to the front of the store. "I guess I'll be taking this little girl," he told the witch at the counter.

"Take her," the witch said with a shudder. "You're the first customer in years who hasn't screamed at the sight of her. Even the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures didn't want her. Whatever's animating her, none of them could put that poor kitten to rest."

"She's perfectly happy as she is," Nico defended. He scratched the kitten's chin. "Aren't you, puffball?" Suddenly he froze, embarrassed to be seen cooing over a kitten.

Hermione laughed. "I knew you had to have a heart in there somewhere."

"No I don't," Nico argued weakly. He quickly left the shop.

Hermione followed him. "Come on, you do have a heart. I bet you've already come up with a name for her."

"Vescia," Nico answered immediately. He frowned in confusion. He had no idea how he'd come up with that name.

"See?" Hermione said triumphantly. "You act all tough, but deep down you just need someone to love."

"Shut up," Nico mumbled.

Hermione's parents walked over. They blinked when they saw Vescia, then their eyes glazed over and they turned to Nico. "Would you like to join us for ice cream?"

"Uh…sure," Nico relented. Fleetingly, he wondered what it would be like to be taken out for ice cream by his own parents. He swallowed back the thought. "Thanks."


After the ice cream, the Grangers returned home. Nico found a shadowy corner, checked that no one was watching, and traveled to his room in his father's palace. He didn't use the room very often, but he needed a safe place to put all his school things before he resumed his search for Percy. Once his things had been stowed, Nico returned to the Leaky Cauldron and plunged back into the Labyrinth.