A/N: Wowee, 38 reviews! You guys make me so happy ^v^

In case you didn't know, that was a smiley face… a weird smiley face, yes, but still a smiley face.

So, all credits go to J.K. Rowling and Rick Riordan. Because I really don't think they have fanfiction accounts, do you?

The meeting with the transfer student was… unnerving.

He had looked so much like the young Tom Dumbledore showed him in memories, and the way he didn't care at all who Harry was…

Well, that was probably because he was from America. But still, it was unnerving.

And what startled Harry most was his eyes. They were cold and cruel, and the way he looked at Harry with that little smirk of his, it was as if he was looking into Harry's soul. Not in the friendly way Dumbledore did. More like he was searching Harry for any trace of fear or weakness, like he was plotting how to destroy him. And there was a strange glint in his eye, like death and despair, like…

Voldemort. Everything about the boy reminded him of Voldemort.

Harry shuddered. Stop it, he told himself firmly. You're just rattled after Snape tried to kill Dumbledore, but Dumbledore's still here, and he certainly wouldn't let a Death Eater into the school.

Ah, but he let Snape in, remember? And Draco, and who's to say this Nico boy won't be the next traitor in the history of Hogwarts? A nasty voice hissed in amusement somewhere in his mind, as he prepared to board the Hogwarts Express.

"Harry, are you alright?" A worried voice came from beside him. "You aren't still dwelling on Snape, are you?"

He felt himself sigh in exasperation. "No, Hermione, I'm not still thinking about all that 'Half-Blood Prince' business. It's fine, really…"

They walked to a compartment, helping Harry to settle down across from Luna, hearing Neville searching for his toad in the distance.

"It's amazing, really. How Voldemort's taken over almost all of the British Isles now. I was surprised, really, that Diagon Alley was still safe. And remember all that hassle we had, getting you to the Burrow…" Hermione trailed off, remembering the untimely fate that had greeted Mad-Eye Moody.

"Hey, it's okay," Ron said half-heartedly as he caught sight of the tears welling up in Hermione's eyes. "What would Moody say? Constant vigilance, remember?"

"Yes, constant vigilance…" Hermione gulped before dashing off.

"I should probably go after her," Ron said apologetically, before running off as well.

"Well. It sounds like someone's upset. I'm guessing a friend died?" A boy seemed to appear out of nowhere.

Harry jumped out of his seat and before he knew it, his wand was pointed at the intruder. He dropped it immediately when he saw who it was.

"You?"

"Yes, me," the raven-haired boy before him said amusedly. "Care if I join? The other compartments are all full…"

Harry nodded stiffly.

"I suppose I should say thank you, then?"

Harry stared at him in shock.

"I'll just take your silence as a no."

And that is how Harry ended up stuck with the transfer student for the rest of the ride.

Nico had been startled to find that you were supposed to run through the column, but he had seen stranger, so he just strolled through with his luggage and was greeted on the other side by a dark-haired boy shoving himself into Nico's face asking him if he had seen a toad. Nico replied that no, he had not seen a toad, and the boy walked off, shoulders slumped.

He quickly boarded the train. Wandering around in attempt to find a compartment, he had seen a rather familiar bushy-haired girl run off in tears.

"Hermio-"

She shoved him aside and continued down the corridor.

"Hey, Hermione, wait up!" The freckly redhead named Ron, Nico remembered, went hurtling after her.

He turned around the corner to the next compartment, to see the boy with two souls sitting across from a blond girl with her nose buried in an upside-down magazine.

"Well. It sounds like someone's upset. I'm guessing a friend died?" He struggled to jeep the amusement out of his voice.

The boy- Harry, he recalled, jumped out of his seat and pointed his wand at Nico. He dropped it almost immediately, saying, "You?"

"Yes, me," Nico couldn't keep the amusement out of his voice this time. He then asked if he could sit down, before asking whether he should thank Harry or not. Which resulted in Harry staring at him in shock. Yes, he decided, he really was enjoying messing with people's minds far too much.

Later, the toad boy came in and joined them, happily exclaiming, "I found Trevor, Harry!" before sitting next to the girl-with-her-nose-buried-in-an-upside-down-magazine. His face turned very red as he did so, saying shyly, "Hi, Luna."

Nico grinned. So the toad boy, Neville, as Harry called him, had a crush on Luna. Oh, he was going to have fun later…

But that would have to wait. Because the train had suddenly jolted to a stop, and the lights blinked out.

He could feel the intensity mount, hear the heavy breathing of his companions, sense Harry gripping onto his wand as tightly as he could. He heard Neville mutter, "Oh, not again," before a strange feeling rose up within his chest. He felt happy, bizarrely happy, and then there was an eerie rattling like a skeleton laughing, and the screech of nails on a chalkboard, and raspy breaths, deep, raspy breaths…

And as quickly as it came, it was gone.

Harry had shot something silver out of his wand which resembled a stag, Luna quickly followed, and Neville's silver thing spluttered out before he tried again and succeeded. The silver chased away the darkness.

The cold was driven away, and Nico clung briefly to the sliver of happiness he felt before that was torn away too, and the lights flickered on once more.

"What was that?" He asked no one in particular.

"Dementors," Luna sighed. Her voice was dreamy and light as a cloud, relaxing and soft as a feather.

"Didn't think they'd attack the train," Neville said shakily. "They did that a few years back, remember, Harry?"

Harry didn't speak for a while. He was obviously thinking of something painful, as his brow was furrowed and his eyes weren't gleaming the way they usually did.

"Why did they come? Why would they come?"

For me, Nico realized. They came for me. And he felt a silent bliss sweep across his mind.

No one spoke for the rest of the train ride. Neville made a few feeble attempts at striking up a conversation, but no one spoke.

And Nico was perfectly fine with that.

When they arrived at the castle, Nico's first thought was that Annabeth would've loved to see it. It was amazing, with majestic arches and hallowed halls, intricate carvings and stone statues lined up perfectly, ornate tapestries depicting the strangest things. Not to mention the paintings that moved and spoke.

What interested Nico the most, however, was the ghosts, because his father hated when things escaped death. It caused malfunctions in his perfect, polished system in the Underworld. And a lot of extra paperwork, too.

They didn't seem to notice him just yet. He had been lined up with the first-years, after Hagrid dragged him away from the thestrals. They were beautiful to him, and he had stroked one lovingly as it nuzzled his shoulder gently. "I'll, be back, don't worry," he murmured to one before turning to the castle regretfully. He took his place at the back of the line of giggling eleven year olds, grumbling ruefully about being last.

He was mildly surprised when a hat resting on a stool began to sing, and paid no attention to its song- something about the four houses uniting in dark times, and no one having to stand alone. He scowled at this last part, as he had always stood alone, no matter how many times someone said they would be there for him.

An old witch with a strict expression read names off a scroll, and they came forward, settling on the stool as the hat spoke gently to them, then calling out loudly "GRYFFINDOR!" or "SLYTHERIN!" or "RAVENCLAW!" or "HUFFLEPUFF!" Each was greeted by an huge uproar of applause from whatever table they hurried to.

He paid no attention as he examined the ghosts, playing a guessing game with himself, wondering who was who. Nearly Headless Nick was obvious enough, as was Fat Friar, and the Bloody Baron, and after a while he found it was too easy and gave up on the game.

"We are accepting an American exchange student this year," Dumbledore called out merrily. "Please see to it that he is welcome, and he will be joining the seventh-years." The students stopped chattering and peered at him curiously.

"di Angelo, Nico!" The witch at the front table called, and he heard the ghosts muttering, zipping around uncertainly. They seemed to make some sort of agreement, glancing at him uneasily. As he strode down the aisle, they lined up on either side of him, throwing themselves to the ground as he passed, muttering, "My Lord," and "Long may you live."

He smirked and whispered to them, "Very well done, I shall spare you… for now." He couldn't help adding the last bit, as he watched one ghost breathe a sigh of relief. The said ghost quickly became pale (as pale as a ghost can be) again.

The students muttered cautiously about the ghosts; behavior, and Nico sat down on the stool as the stern witch dressed in green placed the hat carefully upon his head.

"So cunning, and ambitious… Yet so loyal to your friends and to those you hold dear…" the hat whispered.

Nico stiffened.

"And clever as well, wise beyond your years… Courage beyond measure, I see… would do well in any House, really… Where to put you… Slytherin, you'd certainly flourish there, I believe…"

"You are not going to judge me on my father, hat," he said, venom in his voice. He had heard how Slytherin was 'evil' and 'dark'.

The students were all leaning in, and the hall was completely silent. No one wanted to miss out on the sorting of the exchange student.

"Very well… I shall have to dig deeper into your memories, perhaps…"

Nico panicked. No, he thought fiercely, you won't! He concentrated all his will power on blacking out his mind, so the hat couldn't see anything.

"Yes…" the hat spoke with amusement. "If you block me out, I'll have to send you to Slytherin…"

Nico grit his teeth. Then his eyes widened with something dangerous. Let's see how long you stay amused, hat, he thought gleefully. You wanted to see my memories? I'll let you see them, then…

And the hat SAW. The hat saw the pain, the blood, the torture, the death, the blood, the death, death, death…

"AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" The sorting hat's shriek echoed around the hall, so the fake ceiling trembled and the walls shook.

"AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

The hat's eyes, or rather, eye holes, were mad with terror.

"AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! BLOOD! DEATH! WAR! DARKNESS! PAIN! SO MUCH PAIN! BLOOD! DEATH! DEATH! SO MUCH DEATH!"

Somehow, in the midst of its shrieking, the raggedy old hat managed to shout out Gryffindor, before another witch grabbed it off of Nico's head and carried it to the hospital wing.

"Now." Nico said, and everyone heard the cold, cruel joy in his voice, "Where's the Gryffindor table?" The stern witch directed him to a table under a gold and red banner with a lion on it, visibly shaking all the while.

There was no cheering for the sorting of Nico di Angelo.

A/N: Yep, team Nico-should-be-in-Gryffindor won. Wow. Over 2,000 words in this chapter- it's the longest one yet, I think. Anyways, same as always, ideas or suggestions please PM me or leave a review. Give me reviews please! AHAHAHA I EAT TOO MUCH CHOCOATE BWUAHAHAHA!

Oh yeah. I didn't have anything to do this weekend, so I uploaded this chapter early :)

~DarkAngel