Chapter Two:

Is He Really a Wizard?

Booka: *grins* Hey guys! Yes, this is me and this is a new chapter in my now favorite fanfiction I've ever written! I'm so sorry I didn't upload sooner, but I only got my hands on the Half-Blood Prince a week ago and my school had a lot of tests coming and ugh! I can't stand it! *Shudder*. So, I just wanted to say thanks to all the extremely nice people who reviewed. I've taken all your ideas into consideration and I completely agree. No more Author's Notes in the middle of the chapter and I'll make sure that my descriptions aren't TOO elaborate. Nico will also be very talented in all subjects in Hogwarts (it goes along with Hecate's blessing, if you didn't know). And to a question that a good friend asked me this morning, this is a heterosexual fanfiction so there will be no Harry/Nico. Not that I don't have anything against homosexuality, but this story is mainly going along the HBP plot line and if one of the main characters suddenly turned gay than it would eat away at the story line in my head completely. So, right now Nico magically appears in Harry, Ginny, Neville, Luna, Ron and Hermione's compartment. Guess how freaked out they are. *Evil smile*So, read and review and please enjoy! (Just so you know, Nico is 16 years old in this story.)

Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling or Rick Riordan, though that would be completely awesome! But, seriously I own only the story, nothing else.

"This font is speaking aloud, in English."

"This font is speaking aloud in Ancient Greek."

"This font is speaking aloud in the language said in the text."

This font is thinking.

Normal POV:

Nico was only very faintly aware of the fact that he had no idea where he was going as he shadow traveled deep into Europe, having passed the Atlantic Ocean less than a millisecond ago. Shadow travel is so fast that it takes only an absolute second for the person traveling to reach their destination, so he had already arrived before he could register the confusion. As he formed in the unknown location, he was aware of two things:

The room he was currently in had six powerful life forces blaring their heartbeats into the open air, though it was slightly interfered with a bluish aura encircling the persons.

The smooth, young voice of Hecate was talking to him inside his head.

'Be careful Nico,' she hissed delicately, her voice echoing inside his head. 'The magic-folk are very superstitious. Don't do anything they don't like.'

'Hecate?' Nico thought in surprise. 'What are you doing in my head?'

He could hear the smirk in her voice as she answered: 'Making sure you didn't get lost, moron. Now stop thinking! You're scaring the wizards.'

He frowned and turned to survey his surroundings. It was then that he realized he was aboard a train, the landscape behind the window whizzing by with weak but determined sunshine leaking in between a thick, intimidating chill that felt rather out of place in the summer. He frowned and registered the six mortals that currently held him at twig-point. Two, one male, the other female were crowned with long blazing orange manes of hair. Their skin was Caucasian cream colored, their features thin and European. The girl was slender and attractive while the boy was lanky and thin, obviously related but of extreme differences. They were of similar age, the boy around fifteen or sixteen, while the girl seemed to be late fourteen or early fifteen years old. The third person was also a girl with long dark blond hair streaked with light brown and a slim lithe figure, her small hand pointing her wand at him impressively. Her eyes were a silvery gray, so pale they could've competed with Crypta's (1). She seemed around the same age of the red-haired girl, but her colorless orbs were strange; they seemed distant and detached as if not really registering where she was. In her hands dangled strange multi-colored glasses, the other pointing a wand at Nico. A round-faced boy with short brown hair and nervous, but firm eyes stood next to her, his hand pointing yet another wand at a certain Son of Hades. He seemed timid, something that always irritated Nico in the past, but he ignored this fact for the time being. The fifth person in the room was female. Her short, voluminous brown curls framed her rounded head in a sort of thick, impenetrable curtain with large chocolaty eyes that contained a large amount of intelligence and (something that usually came with intellect) arrogance. The superior tilt of her chin sparked a flame of dislike in Nico's chest as he surveyed her with an impassiveness that seemed to irritate her. It might've been the lack of fear in his eyes that did the trick; they were now staring at each other with an even amount of disdain and displeasure that seemed to confuse the other occupants of the train.

But then, a soft, unpleasantly familiar humming filled Nico's ear and caused him to turn away from the girl's stare in alarm: it was the sound of a ghost. It couldn't be, Nico tried to convince himself in a panic. I'm far away from the Underworld by now; there are no ghosts here besides the ones in my head. But the dull gray sheen that penetrated the otherwise normal atmosphere was the same; the only difference was that the depressing, suffocating emotions were absent from the room. Nico turned to the source that emanated Death so chillingly and was stunned to find a bespectacled Living Boy in the place where the dead spirit should have stood. Appearance wise, the boy was average at the least. His messy black hair was cropped into a sort of uneven disarray, clumping into matted lumps and tangles hopelessly upon the oval-shaped head. He was slightly too skinny and could do with a few extra pounds. The boy's eyes were slightly too large for his face and colored a brilliant emerald that you couldn't help but look into. The glittering orbs were what drew most people to look at him despite being partially hidden by big, circular glasses. But the most unique feature of his physique was the dark lightning-shaped scar etched into the smooth cream-colored skin of his forehead. That was what alerted Nico who he was and why he seemed to ooze Death from every pore in his somewhat undernourished body. The kid was The-Boy-Who-Lived; he had been shot with the Killing Curse when he was only one year old. Who wouldn't smell like the Grim Reaper himself if he had come within an inch of Death itself? Beneath the layer of death that seemed to cake him, was the brilliant throb of life Nico had come to appreciate in the past few years. Instantly, Nico relaxed and stared grimly at the boy who now glanced at the others in confusion. Interesting, Nico thought distractedly.

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Harry stared drearily out into the chilling mist on the other side of the window pane in the large train compartment, oblivious to the warm chatter occurring in the room he was in. Ron and Neville were talking avidly about the current Quidditch cup and who was currently ahead in the game. Luna and Hermione were in a heated argument about whether or not some exotic, unnoticed animal in the Wizarding World really did exist. He didn't hear them however. He could only look out unblinkingly into the dark gray fog clouding on the glass, watching as his hot breath misted on the cold pane. He noticed only slightly that the thin cloud darkened; it was very little and only perceivable if one looked very closely. But Harry did notice that it became thicker and more potent, plumes of it sent spiraling against the rushing train. He frowned and shivered; the strange mist that had been plaguing Europe for the past few months was the aftermath of all the dementors flying loose away from Azkaban. The thickening of it meant something dark was around and he didn't like that idea at all. It splashed up around the metal body of the train, turning black suddenly in a dense dark soup.

"Guys!" Harry cried his voice high-pitched with panic, unable to look away from the window. He heard their voices falter and there was absolute silence in the compartment as the occupants stare dumbstruck out the glass.

Then Hermione asked the question that everybody was thinking at that moment. "What is that?"

No one answered because no one knew.

Suddenly, a thin stream of the black fog poured underneath the window pane into the compartment and pooled onto the carpeted floor of the train. It crawled on the rug towards the center of the room causing the inhabitants of the room to shrink away from the disturbing smoke. Harry glanced at the others and simultaneously everyone in the room drew their wands and pointed the small wooden poles at the spot where the ashy substance was forming. The foreboding brew seemed to bubble into a tall gaseous figure, actually growing into the shape of a human made entirely out of smoke. The teens witnessing the transformation stiffened as the smoke became living, breathing flesh. Soon a sixteen year old boy stood in the place of the black mist. Long wavy curtains of raven-colored hair fell in front of his angular face that contrasted heavily with his smooth, porcelain skin. He was slim but lean and obviously athletic, clothed in gothic garments such as a black leather jacket and ratty black jeans with chains hanging from the belt. A beautiful ring in the shape of skull was wrapped around his index finger while a small diamond earring twinkled in his earlobe. Surprisingly, the silver pommel of a sword stuck out from a leather sheath half hidden under his jacket. His glossy black orbs surrounded by a thick fringe of dark lashes surveyed the imposing group that held him at wand-point appraisingly. He glared at Hermione levelly when she suddenly turned to look at him with such hostility it was shocking. Harry had only seen her gaze at Malfoy with such undisguised venom; he wondered what the person had done to get her so riled up. Suddenly the intimidating eyes whipped around to stare at Harry with a mixture of shock and disbelief. In the next second however, his face smoothed and became a mask of indifference; the change happened so quickly that Harry wondered whether he had imagined the confusing expressions.

Then the boy smiled wryly and chided "It's rude to stare you know." His voice too was just as seductive and enthralling as his appearance. The words he said were uttered softly but clearly, his 's's and 't's more pronounced than any of his other letters, creating a soft whistling accent that resembled American and Greek combined.

Hermione, who had gotten over her surprise more quickly than the others, said snappishly "Well it's rude to pop into someone else's compartment by means that we don't even know!"

The boy smirked. "That's a good point. So… where am I?"

The witches and wizards in the train car stared at the boy. Finally Luna piped up. "You really don't know where you are?" She cocked her head at the demigod with an uncharacteristic display of curiosity.

"Nope," he answered, popping the 'p'. He turned away from the other teenagers and seemed to be extremely interested in the entire compartment.

"You're on the Hogwarts Express," said Neville.

The boy raised an eyebrow at him in surprise. "Really? Hmm. I didn't know the school had its own train."

Hermione rolled her eyes and said impatiently "Well, that aside, how did you get here?"

The boy snorted. "Isn't it obvious? I transported here magically."

"I've never seen magical transportation like that before," commented Hermione incredulously.

"There's a first time for everything," said the boy helpfully with a mocking smile.

"Not for me," insisted Hermione arrogantly. "I read The Complete Works of Apparition and Magical Teleportation by Nathaniel Briary. It describes ALL types of magical motion and it says nothing that looks like what you just did."

The kid shrugged and said airily "It's kind of a family thing. Me and my family, we're all born with that ability."

"Can other people learn it?" Hermione asked eagerly. Harry might've imagined it, but he thought he heard just a hint of jealousy in her tone.

"No," he deadpanned.

Hermione's enthusiasm dissolved into annoyance. "Well, why not?"

"I told you already. Only people in my family can do it. It has something to do with genetics." He turned away from Hermione, no longer interested apparently. Instead his gaze landed on Harry. They, unlike so many other persons he had met stayed on his eyes, not even glancing at the lightning shaped scar that marked him as a person supposed to be dead. The boy's head tilted slightly and he murmured, his enrapturing voice barely audible as he whispered, "Harry Potter. The-Boy-Who-Lived. I was not expecting you to be the first one I met."

Harry shifted uncomfortably under the piercing stare and mumbled, embarrassed "Yeah, well I wasn't exactly expecting you either. So your name is…?"

"I am Nico di Angelo," he announced. "I am a transfer student from America. I am here to learn the way of the average British wizard." Nico flashed a smile that wasn't inviting in the least. "And you are?" he asked turning to the others who weren't Harry.

They exchanged nervous glances and Ginny boldly stepped forward and announced clearly "I am Ginny Weasley and this is my brother Ron. The blond girl is Luna Lovegood and the boy is Neville Longbottom. The brown-haired know-it-all is Hermione Granger. (This was said affectionately)" Then she grinned warmly at him and said "Welcome to Great Britain."

"Scotland," Hermione corrected.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Whatever."

Nico nodded at Ginny and thanked her. "May I sit?" he asked Ron politely, pointing to the vacant seat in between him and his sister.

The redheaded boy nodded grudgingly. Nico smiled coolly and he sat down lightly on the red fabric.

Suddenly Ginny turned to Nico and asked "You're not from England are you?"

Nico shook his head, avoiding eye contact. "I'm an American transfer student. I come from a, er, special school in New York."

Hermione's ears perked up, interested. "What kind of school?"

"It's more of a camp, really." Nico shrugged. "We learn all the stuff we need to survive there."

Hermione blinked. "So why are you here coming to Hogwarts?"

"My dad said that Hogwarts would be better for me than camp," Nico lied smoothly. "Something about making more friends and crap like that."

Ron and Neville exchanged confused glances, Nico noticed. He waved away their curiosity when he said airily "Oh, I never really had friends at my old school. He said that if I carry on like this I'll become a socially deprived weirdo or something like that."

Hermione asked "So who is your dad? You said he was a wizard, but what's his job?"

Nico shrugged. "He's part of a particularly large wizard company in America. I don't live with him or even talk with him much unless he has an errand or job for me to do." Then he frowned. "Which is often now that I think of it. I took my mother's name, so I don't think he really considers me as a son. More of a delivery boy, really. But besides that, I think someone's at the door." Almost as soon as he finished talking, the compartment door slid open and a breathless third-year girl stepped inside. Nico registered her life force which too pulsed gently with magic and life as the wizards and witches that surrounded him. The girl's magic was immature however and did not have the consistency as that of Harry or Hermione.

"I'm supposed to deliver these to Neville Longbottom and Harry P-Potter," she faltered as her eyes met Harry's and she turned scarlet. She held two scrolls of parchment tied with violet ribbon. Perplexed, Harry and Neville took the scroll addressed to each of them and the girl stumbled out of the compartment, dazed.

"What is it?" Ron demanded as Harry unrolled his. Nico looked on curiously while everyone watched Harry expectantly.

"An invitation," said Harry.

In elaborate, slightly over-kill script, the paper read clearly:

Harry,
I would be delighted if you would join me for a bite of lunch in compartment C.
Sincerely,
Professor H. E. F. Slughorn

"Who's Professor Slughorn?" asked Neville, looking perplexedly at his own invitation.

"New teacher," answered Harry. "Well I suppose we'll have to go, won't we?"

"But what does he want me for?" asked Neville nervously as though he was expecting detention.

"No idea," said Harry with a shrug. Nico's eyes narrowed suspiciously. He could tell Harry was lying; the subtle tightening in the boy's neck muscles was enough to give him away. It was a trait almost all humans had in common. But why Harry would lie Nico could not tell.

Nico watched them closely as the two teens exited the compartment. At the absence of Harry and Neville, an awkward silence filled the room to the brim. Ignoring the other occupants of the compartment, Nico took out a thin, dark green book. Hermione looked over, interested. There were several silver symbols printed in a silky, thin writing across the cover. To her annoyance, the whole thing was written in a foreign language that she did not understand. As Nico engorged himself inside the book, he remained alert to what was happening around him, despite how he seemed to have zoned out to the people in the cubicle. He heard them whispering as he read.

"He's going to have to get rid of that sword when he gets to school," Hermione's voice muttered. "It's against school rules to have a muggle weapon in the castle, no matter how medieval."

"That sword doesn't seem muggle-made to me," Luna said dreamily.

There was a short pause as the teens assessed that statement.

"Besides," Ginny said "He doesn't seem like the type of bloke that follows the rules, Hermione."

Said witch snorted. "It looks like dark magic to me. Filch will get rid of it before he even steps through the door."

"What makes you think he'll find it?" Luna seemed strangely amused by the entire conversation.

"Hogwarts's security has been bumped up since You-Know-Who came out of hiding last year." To everyone's surprise it was Ron who answered, murmuring darkly. "They have Dark Art detectors at every gate. They were talking about it up at the prefects' compartment."

Nico smirked to himself. I bet twenty drachmae that the alarms will go berserk as soon as I cross the boundaries.

"I bet every galleon I've got that he's gonna be in Slytherin," he heard Ron sneer.

"You really shouldn't talk about a person when they're in the same room," Nico slyly replied, glancing up from his book with a satisfactory smirk when everyone (excluding Luna) jumped at the sound of his voice.

The offenders', their cheeks burning from shame, said nothing and seemed to be determined to look anywhere but at him.

Time passed slowly and Nico watched uninterestedly as the sun, hidden by a thick, sullen layer of gray clouds, dipped underneath the horizon. It was around that time that Neville rejoined them. The absence of Harry was questioned and Neville answered that the Boy-Who-Lived had said that he would come later; apparently Harry had said he needed to check up on something before he could come back to the apartment. Ron and Hermione exchanged a dark look, Nico noted and after that, both seemed on edge.

All too soon, the train arrived at Hogwarts castle. Nico could feel the power of the magical wards as the railroad car passed through them. It felt similar to the sensation of breaking through a thin, flimsy barrier made out of paper. The demigod watched in quiet, hidden wonder as the train approached a huge, Scottish castle, built with tall, intimidating towers surrounding the keep and smooth dark stone that reminded him briefly of Hades's palace in the Underworld. Obviously, he did not dare voice these thoughts aloud.

By now, Harry's long-term absence was beginning to be fretted over.

"I just know he's gotten into trouble. I just know it!" Hermione worried angrily.

"Calm down, 'Mione," soothed Luna pensively. "He probably got sidetracked by something important."

"That's what I'm afraid of," muttered Hermione.

Nico said nothing about the matter, quietly musing to himself. He took a deep breath and extended his senses, prodding and looking for the one unique life force he would have no problem detecting. For him, it was rather like searching through a small pile of papers for the one important document he needed to find. Aha! Nico smirked subconsciously as his senses detected Harry's unmistakable aura masquerading as a ghost's. The thing that worried him was its location; the Slytherin side of the train. Why would Harry, a notorious Gryffindor, be there?

Booka: Hey guys. I know it's short and I didn't get much done, but you try writing 8 pages of size 11 writing with certain people *cough-Mad-cough* breathing down your neck every minute of the day. Not to mention, my mom put a limited amount of time on the computer. One hour a day per twin. How messed up is that? She knows I need to write this fanfiction. Ah well. I hope you enjoyed. And you NEED TO REVIEW! Out of over two hundred viewings I only got 20 reviews. What is this world coming to? Anyways, bye. I hope everyone had a Merry Christmas and a happy New Year. So see you guys later. Happy reading. AND REVIEWING.

1. My OC Crypta, Immortal Daughter of Thanatos. If more information is wanted, I recommend you read my other PJO fics, Cigarettes and Guard Duty.