This will, with any luck, be the shortest chapter I ever post on this website. I apologize for my brevity after so long a wait, and I can only hope that from this point forward my chapters are longer. I also wish to inform you that, while I may be able to update with increasing consistency in the future, it is doubtful that the chapters will be up in a timely fashion. I apologize once more for my inconsistency, tardiness, and miniscule offering. Here is the latest installment.

Nico's two weeks didn't go quite the way he wanted them to, which is a polite way of saying that everything blew up in his face. Thinking back over the past fourteen days, however, his thoughts on the subject were undecided. He had risked a lot and gained a lot, and now he was ever so slightly screwed over. But, he had an ally whose assistance might very well make up for his current situation. He ran his fingers through his hair, considering his options. On one hand, he could speed up the schedule. Forgo Hogwarts and Harry Potter and Dumbledore, and simply use the swiftest and most brutal methods at his disposal to eliminate his problem. On the other hand, that method would lose him potential allies if his business brought him to London in the future, which it very well might. It would also mean a lot of tedious, boring paperwork that could not be gotten around, and a lot of hard work and pain in a very small amount of time. Then again, the alternative was that he spend the next six months acting. Acting like he cared about school, acting like he was on two sides at once, acting like he wasn't going insane. Six months was a long time. He was ever so tempted to just call it quits and deal with the work and the pain if it meant he would go home. This was where these two weeks had left him, at war with himself, allied with opposing sides, and wanting members of both sides dead. His time, he sighed to himself, looking at the glowing digital clock on the nightstand, was drawing short to make a decision. In five hours, he would either be on a train to Hogwarts, or on his way to Malfoy Manor to end this.

Dumbledore surveyed his work, checking it over twice for any complications. The light barrier was only a start- a distraction, an attempt to make Nico think that he could easily bypass it. The real magic was in the dark line that rimmed the base of the dome-shaped wards. It didn't prevent leaving by foot, or apparating, but any form of shadow passing over it would be caught. He grimly considered the gray powder that coated his hands. It got darker every day, and he wondered what it meant. There was no mention of anything like this from any of his sources, so he would have to keep it under check. Meanwhile, he considered the job he had done. No matter how Nico tried to get out, he had made sure the wards would hold fast to any shadow that moved across them. It wouldn't harm him, only hold him there until he was forced to turn back. No, Nico Di Angelo would not be making any unscheduled trips in and out of Hogwarts this time.

Still not fully convinced that this was the better option, Nico considered turning around with every step that brought him closer to the train station. Then the train's magical barrier, which almost had him turning around again, then the boarding of the train, at which point he swore he could hear the shadows beckoning him to just melt into them and end this ridiculous charade. His resolution was still wavering as he sat down in the train's compartment, and while his ADHD kept coming up with reasons why he really shouldn't be doing this, the more sensible part of his brain noted that as long as he was doing this, he didn't have to hang around the Underworld, and he wasn't doing some other menial task for his father. This logic infallible in its reasoning, the sensible side of him won out and he forced himself to remain on the train. Until, of course, he got to Hogwarts. Then, everything changed.

It was restlessness. It was nauseating movement. It was a rippling uneasiness. It was the gut sensation, the uncomfortable pressure somewhere in his abdomen. It was the buzzing in his ears. It was the spot that danced in his vision. It was the pins and needles that twisted up his fingers. Beneath it there was raw power. Nico felt like he'd been living in a desert, conserving every drop of water, and now he was standing next to the ocean. A great swirling mass of shadow that rejoiced at seeing him. But before that, lying there, veiling that black abyss, was a thin layer of white magic. The train pulled into the station and Nico fought off the sickness and just looked for a moment at the great raw power that rested before him, shielded from his touch by the fragile glowing dome. He considered it, realizing that it was probably a good thing. That much shadow, concentrated in a single force would probably kill him. Still, he could feel it there behind him, held back by that rippling sheet of white. When he realized he was going to have to pass through the ridiculous barrier to get to the school he laughed.

"Nico." The old man watched as the boy's hands twitched, "So glad you could join us this year."

Nico said nothing, only nodding carefully. His feet were tapping quietly on the carpet, his knee was bouncing. His eyes were a darker black than Dumbledore had ever seen them, and his face looked healthier. His skin was not so alabaster, and his olive coloring was more visible.

"You seem anxious, Nico. Is there a problem?"

Nico still said nothing, just shaking his head quickly. His shadow, cast by the oil lamp, was starting to twitch nervously. Nico was seated still, but his shadow was learning tricks from that of peter pan and was proceeding to flick around the room as though worried. Ignoring the odd behavior, dumbledore plowed on.

"I wish to discuss certain measures of-"

"Let me see your hands."

"I beg your pardon?"

Nico was frowning, clearly not happy with something.

"I said let me see your hands."

Dumbledore held them out, the gray powder on them looking eerie in the warm light.

Nico hissed in frustration,

"Damn it."

"Is there a problem?"

"is there a problem? Is there a problem? You meddled in the most dangerous of sciences and you messed up, and you ask me if there's a problem."

"I was unaware that I had erred in my experiments."

"Well, news flash for you then!"

"I'm sure I will have to correct that then."

You still don't get this, do you? You don't know what this is? What it means? Do you have any idea exactly how deep you've gotten?" He swore again and began to pace, muttering to himself in greek.

" Αν είστε ήδη νεκρός μπορώ να σας σκοτώσει όχι."

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that."

Nico glared at him, "Its too late. I can't fix what you've done. You'll be dead within a week if you try to keep this up."

Dumbledore frowned, "I'm afraid I misunderstand you."

"Then perhaps I should make myself more clear! You formed a shadow containment boundary around the school thinking to detain me. That kind of magic takes serious, serious power to hold and upkeep. It's already been in place for about five days. Your power will start to quaver within the next two days. It will fail entirely within four. The onslaught of repercussions will be too great and within five days you will be very much dead."

Dumbledore seemed to ponder the forceful statement, "If it is indeed as you say, then I suppose I ought to take down the boundary now."

Nico sighed, "You could theoretically do it with no immediate damage, but Shadow magic is different from normal wizardry. It uses the strength of your soul to maintain it, which means it cannot heal. You will never regain the power you used to place and hold the barrier."

"But I would be alive."

Nico's eyes were grave as he let the bitter words fall from his lips.

"You played with dark, dark magic when you started messing with shadows. Dark magic is the Devil's handiwork, his possession, his essence. By using it as you did, you called the devil's attention to yourself the second you uttered the incantation. This was neither the first nor the second time you've called on the powers of Satan, but the third. He knows your name now."

"And? What will the Devil do?"

"He would have either issued a challenge to you for your soul, with the intent of claiming it for himself, or gone with the easy way and just let your powers drain until you died. He has clearly chosen the second of the two and is merely biding his time until your soul floats down to him."

"You seem quite passionate about this."

"It's complicated."

"I'm a good listener."

"I want you dead. Lets get that out there to begin with. But not only do I want you to die, I want it to be me that kills you. If this barrier drains your life, than he has won and I am in trouble. Also, I need to know some things you have yet to tell me, and-"

Suddenly there was a shallow flicker in the candlelight, casting the room in shadow for just a moment. More was in this hollow second than Dumbledore saw, apparently, because Nico started to laugh.

"You know what, I don't care. Do whatever you want."

He left quickly after that, still laughing. So abrupt was this change in tactic that Dumbledore merely watched him go, not entirely sure Nico hadn't lost his mind.

I'm sorry for the wait and the lack of material. Depending entirely on my schedule and/or interest, the next chapter could be up in a week or in August. Were I you, I would count on August. Circumstances beyond my control are squeezing my schedule, and therefore I have very little time to pursue this story.

Thanks for reading and see you in summer

- The Georgian Devil