Announcement: I have changed my username from ghostkingisbae to match my A03 user so that I can post this story there without any confusion over who is who, so if you want, you can also read this story there. I'm happy that I got this chapter done quickly with (hopefully) minimal spelling mistakes. This chapter is kind of a wild ride so yeah, strap yourself in and hang on tight. Enjoy this once again EARLY chapter and review because this chapter kind of strays from my normal writing style and I'm unsure of it. BYEEE
Nico trudged behind Sir Nicholas awkwardly, students passing by them staring shamelessly at them. He understood that the whole 'peer having a psychotic breakdown in the middle of everyone' thing is such cause for interest among the entire student body.
He snuggled uncomfortably into his cloak, hoping that the comforting black color would take him back to his natural habitat as an antisocial hermit. Nicholas seemed to understand the tension coming off of Nico and sped up his pace,making a quick corner and starting conversation with him as they wove their way to the headmaster's office.
"If you don't mind me asking Young Master, exactly how did you find yourself in the wizarding world? I was under the impression that your father was trying to keep you away," Nearly Headless Nick's voice lowered as if Nico's father would hear him if he spoke any louder- he probably would.
"Just a botched jump," Nico said dismissively, waving away the incident. "Why was my father trying to keep me away? They're only wizards you know, pointy hats, wands and whatnot" At this Nicholas turned away, his spectral body practically burning with a secret.
"Have you," he paused to look up at Nico, eyes serious. "Have you heard of the Dark Lord?"
"My father?"
"No- no of course not. The Dark Lord of the wizarding world."
Nico could tell he had heard that name before; felt the itch in his head that came with a memory so close in his mind. Before he could speak, Sir Nicholas went on; if possibly his ghostly shade taking on a lifeless pallor- more lifeless than usual, that is.
"Some may even call him He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named or You-Know-Who instead of- of Voldemort," Nicholas hissed out, ducking low to hide partially behind Nico.
"Voldemort?" Nicholas flinched, "What kind of name is that?"
"The name of the sadistic young boy turned mass murderer."
Nico shivered at the look in the ghost's eyes.
"But if he is still alive… doesn't that mean you weren't alive to see him?"
The ghost turned his dead eyes on him.
"A ghost can tell many tales. Even if they weren't there to witness the scene with their own eyes," he paused. "And there are many ghosts to tell their own gory tales because of that monster."
"Enough to make an army," Nico said, coming to the realization of just where he had heard of this supposed monster. He looked to Sir Nicholas, eyes blazing as he remembered the exact words of his father.
"Nico, why do you think there are so many restless souls filing in now?" Hades asked his son seriously; the Greek fire beside his throne casting an eerie shadow on his thin face.
Nico was usually happy when his father would talk to him like an adult; unwavering and straight to the point when it came to Nico and the jobs he had to do for his father and the souls of the Underworld. Hades was never one to coddle his children; having had them- Nico being a prime example- grow up too hard and cold from a young age, constantly exposed to the horrors of the world too early.
"It's because of the war in the other realms, isn't it?"
"Yes, it is. But do you know why there is that war?" At Nico sharp shake of his head he continued, fists clenching tightly. "There is a man, no- a boy- out there too cowardly to face me; so he sends these souls as messengers instead."
Nico was scared. He had only seen his father like this when he spoke of being banished to the Underworld by his brothers; getting the short end of the stick and being looked down upon for millennia by his brethren. He looked out into the Underworld, seeing a rush of souls boarding on with Charon onto the River Styx; it wasn't merely a lot; it was a horde. He cleared his throat quietly before speaking; trying to keep his small voice from shaking.
"How… how many are there?"
Hades looked down at his young son, having just lost Bianca to his realm, before speaking coldly to the son he no longer wanted with eyes blazing.
"Enough to make an army."
Nico startled at the tap on his shoulder. Sir Nicholas was looking at him worriedly, having had become corporeal enough to tap Nico on shoulder. Nico swiped his hand away and grumbled a barely heard 'I'm fine'.
"We're here Young Master," Nicholas gestured to a statue of a phoenix with spread wings placed within a tall opening seemingly carved from the stone itself. After seeing Nico's confusion written clearly on his face, the ghost elaborated.
"The headmaster is expecting you, so you won't be needing the password," Sir Nicholas opened his transparent hands to the stone bird; a staircase rising from the ground shortly after.
Nico hopped onto the staircase as it rose, the large wings of the bird covering his field of vision and engulfing him in their powerful frame as they got higher to the hallway carved from the stone of the walls.
When everything stilled, Nico found himself standing flush to a wooden door, two torches on either side of it shining a light on the furnishing.
Without knocking, Nico swung the door open; surprised at it not being as heavy as it looked.
The room was huge.
There were tall arches leading into a large library. The books were piled high on the shelves, leading up to a balcony overlooking the entire space. A shiny desk stood front and center as the main focus of the room.
Nico would continue observing the room if it wasn't for the man sitting at the desk.
He had seen him at the opening ceremony. A tall, old man. Or what seemed to be the case.
Although the man tended to lean towards the thin, frail side, Nico could feel the power underneath the surface; sense something akin to a fire in this man's spirit. A fire that could be seen in his tall, straight posture and twinkle in his eyes through his half-moon glasses. His thin, long fingers were wrapped along a wand with round nubs at certain intervals throughout the wand.
He looked up from a thick book he was reading before Nico came in, having an expectant look on his face as if he was aware of the exact moment Nico would open the door to his office.
"How kind of you to pay a visit to this old man. How are you liking the school year so far?" Nico watched the shine in the Headmaster's eyes shimmer a bit brighter; as if sharing a joke between them.
Nico hated it.
"Listen, we both know that I didn't come here on a whim to say hi. So why don't you just spit out whatever you summoned me here for and I'll be on my merry way; skipping around with all my other witch and wizard friends to go turn princes into frogs."
"Ah yes!" Dumbledore exclaimed, snapping his finger as if suddenly remembering something. "I did in fact call you over. This old mind of mine has been getting me into trouble as of late. As much as I would like to let you go and join your friends with your charms, there is a bit of a problem. It seems you don't quite have your supplies put together."
"No," Nico forced the words out through clenched teeth. The old man was really getting on his already frayed nerves. "I don't. But I don't suppose you have any laying around in here?" Please don't have anything. Just send me home- or anywhere other than this weird-ass school with this annoying old man.
"No we do not," Nico cheered a little inside. "The school supplies we have here are more personalized than others. You will need to fetch your own supplies for your own standards and needs. Such as students who need books in other languages than the ones we speak here." With that, Dumbledore shot a hard look at Nico; daring him to speak against the accusation.
"So I have arranged for you to take time off today- while the other students are getting settled- for a little shopping trip. You will gather your supplies and clothing for the school year today; classes will officially start tomorrow," Once again back to his cheery demeanour, Dumbledore reached behind his desk; pulling out a piece of parchment with a list of supplies that Nico would have to pick up. Nico blinked owlishly at the list, not being able to read the curly script of the headmaster.
"How am I supposed to know where to go?" Nico said, still trying to decipher the text.
"Yes, I suppose that would be a problem for you," Dumbledore replied, eyebrows furrowing in thought. Nico could practically see the lightbulb going off in the man's head. "Harry would be happy to help. Now go on; these things take time to find."
Nico had a feeling the old man had the whole conversation mapped out and that no matter what Nico did, every move he made was part of some grand plan.
THIS IS LINE
Harry watched, appalled, as Ron- just like he did at any dinner table- stuffed his face full of food; still talking normally as if he didn't have to fight past the mountain of food in his mouth to be heard. It wasn't like they understood him anyway.
"Dif tass bedter dan mumh makhs id," Ron spoke loudly, words muffled by the huge chicken leg wedged in his cheek like a chipmunk.
"Close your mouth will you? I'm going to lose my appetite if you keep that up!" Hermione said angrily, shooting a dirty look at ron as he continued chewing happily with his mouth open.
"You must not like the food that much if you're losing your appetite. If you don't want it anymore you can just hand it over to me. I don't mind that you've already touched it."
"Have you no shame? I swear-"
Hermione stopped abruptly as the room went dead silent; even Ron looking up from his plate long enough to see the cause of the silence.
Nico di Angelo was standing awkwardly next to Harry; eyes to the floor. He stood on the sides of his feet, shifting nervously every-so-often.
"Um… yes?" Harry questioned quietly, hating that he was currently the center of attention once again.
Nico mumbled back a response mutedly to the floor like the dull, tan tiles were the most interesting thing in the room at the moment.
"Come again? I didn't quite hear you"
Nico looked up at him pleadingly; begging him with his eyes to just let him get this over with. Harry saw him take a long breath in.
"Professor Dumbledore said you wouldn't mind taking me to find my school supplies."
Harry paused. He forgot that Nico was kept at Grimmauld place minus his own free will with no belongings on him other than his swords and some wierd gold coins in his pocket- which were promptly taken away from him before he could wake up. And coupled with Harry's suspicions that he had nowhere to go and that no one was really out there looking for him, left Harry feeling pity for the boy. It was obvious that Nico was just as alone as Harry was before Sirius and Mrs. Weasley took him under their wings. Nico was in the same position as Harry once was, so he decided then and there that he would do what he so dearly wanted someone to do for him back then- be his friend.
Harry smiled, trying to relieve the tension that was laced throughout Nico's body- the poor boy looked ready to bolt!
"Yeah, I don't think that would be a problem," he looked towards his friends beside him; picking up on Ron's incredulous look before continuing. "Let me just clear my plate and we'll get going."
Harry could only hope that this boy he was betting on wasn't really a Death Eater.
THIS IS A LINE
Nico was depressed.
He could tell the second Harry looked up and smiled at him that he had just earned a pity friend.
Again.
Percy was great and all, but Nico could tell by the way he acted around him; always making sure he was eating, constantly hovering over him, forcing himself to be around Nico whenever he was alone- Nico was a job to Percy; an obligation. To Nico Percy was a caretaker, not a friend or just someone to talk to- Percy would always be the person constantly trying to fill in the hole Bianca left inside him. To Nico Percy was just that- a person trying to force himself where he didn't belong; into a hole left empty by someone irreplaceable.
But no matter how much that clawed Nico and, Percy would also always be his hero. Percy would always be who he looked up to as a kid; the strong man who saved the camp and the world on multiple occasions.
And Nico couldn't stop yearning to be more than Percy was willing to give to him.
He clenched his hands into fists as he forced himself to think back to the present.
Harry had most definitely been a great help, having had directed Nico to the shopping square- something Nico would have fucked up immediately.
Sure, he had been to London multiple times when shadow travelling from place to place, but the wizarding place seemed to have their own underground system as Nico learned quickly.
The clothing of the wizarding world was completely different, the dress of the people mostly consisting of long cloaks and dresses; the hats and accessories assorted as all Hades. They even had their own money system! As a child of Hades, Nico was not a stranger to the many types of money around the world for different cultures, but this was nothing he'd ever heard of before; even his experience with drachmas and imperial gold coins didn't compare to this.
Harry had dragged him all over the place. Taking him to clothing stores- if they were even called that in the wizarding world, supply stores filled with cauldrons and potions, and expansive libraries filled to the brim with school books on things like charms and transfiguration. (Where he picked up all of his books in ancient Greek).
He was happy to say they had reached their last stop.
Nico looked up at the sign of the store in front of him.
The building was just like all the other ones in the square. Tall, made with dark bricks, and seemingly falling apart at the seams. Ollivanders, Nico read slowly; his dyslexia moving the words around as he tried to read them.
Harry apparently liked this store the best. When Nico asked why he gave the cryptic answer of because it's definitely memorable with what Nico would call a plotting smile.
So, of course, that led Nico to looking above and around him as he walked into the store; infinitely suspicious of anything that would make someone grin like that. He missed his sword already.
Nico's impression of the store was the same as the one he had when he looked at it from the outside. Old, dirty, and falling apart from the weight of age.
An old man- not quite as old as Dumbledore- stood behind the counter of the register; an arrangement of wand boxes plied high behind him, some sticking out haphazardly. A shock of bleach-white hair sticking up all over his head. Nico winced sympathetically. He definitely was in the same boat as the man when it came to the hair department- and he knew it was impossible to tame. When the bell above the door rang, the man looked up; immediately locking eyes with Harry.
"Harry Potter: didn't think you would be coming by my store again any time soon. What? Broke your wand already?"
Harry shook his head, smiling slightly.
"Not quite. My friend Nico here needs a wand before the school year starts up again- year five," at that, the eyes turned their focus to Nico.
"Year five and still without a wand? What a shame."
Nico cleared his throat uncomfortably, having had heard those words multiple times before from his father.
"Yeah."
"No matter. I will find the one just for you," He rushed to the back of the store. Nico and Harry both could see him climb a ridiculously tall ladder up to one of the slots in the shelving. Pulling one out, Ollivander climbed back down quickly; the many years of doing this was evident in the ease in which he did this task. Moving quickly, Mr. Ollivander pulled the wand out of the box and placed it into Nico's hand in a fluid movement.
"Here you are sir: 11 inch elm wood with doxy wing core. This one is reasonably stringy," Ollivander quickly rattled off the information about the wand in Nico's hands before looking eagerly at Nico as if waiting for something to happen.
Nico waited, looking back at Mr. Ollivander with eyes open wide.
"What? Am I supposed to get hit with lightning right about now or something?" Mr. Ollivander looked at the wand with something akin to disappointment, as if he was expecting it to do better.
"No,no this is not the one for you. Trust me when I say you will feel when your wand chooses you. It did for me," Harry said, glancing at Nico with encouragement.
"Yes, this is not the wand for you."
He rushed back to the rear of the store, running his finger along the shelving; feeling for the right wand for Nico.
Mr. Ollivander stopped suddenly, and reached for a wand under his desk.
"This has to be the one; I can feel it."
Nico froze when the wand was set down into his hand, barely aware to Ollivander rattling off the wands statistics in the back of his mind somewhere.
The second the wand met his hands, he could feel it: a rush of electricity that made him shiver roughly. When he said he was going to get hit with lightning he was only kidding, but this was most definitely what that must feel like. A quick rush one second that leaves your ears ringing and you shaking on your feet. This was his wand.
When Nico came back enough to think past the rushing in his head he asked:
"What was this wand again?" He could hear the shakiness of his own voice, but it didn't scare him. He revelled in it like the aftershocks of such a rush of power.
Mr. Ollivander frowned.
"You didn't hear? That wand there consists of the bark of a blackthorn and with dragon heartstring. It is 11 ½ inches with quite a lot of inflexibility, bordering rigidity."
"Oh, okay." Nico was still dealing with the shock. Was this how Jason felt all the time?
"I believe that is the one you will be taking?" Mr. Ollivander questioned. At Nico's nod he told Harry the price- something like Galileo? Harry handed over a large gold coin to Mr. Ollivander who then put it in the old timey register; a loud ching emitting from it. Nico grabbed the box for his wand and left the store, Harry following right behind him.
Only when they were outside did he realize that the sun was just about going down. Harry made a noise in the back of his throat.
"Guess it's time to lug all of this stuff back to the castle." He turned to Nico as he spoke.
"Guess so."
THIS IS A LINE
Percy looked back to the entrance of Camp. The Greek lettering of the arch leading into camp was the catalyst to many memories of the summer; some good, some bad. This time he stood looking at it alone would definitely be chalked down as one of the worse times.
After Rachel told the prophecy Percy gently set her down, having had stood close to her in anticipation of her losing consciousness. After she had passed out, all was quiet; but Percy could still hear the cold, raspy voice of Delphi in his ears; foretelling him of his fate.
The king, the boy, the savior of twice,
Hounded by death; the Dark Lord's dice,
Trapped between wars against all advice,
Crushed tightly by the darkest of vice,
One cannot live when the other dies,
One life for the other is the asking price.
-BWYWB