The next morning at breakfast, an owl delivered a letter to Nico. The paper was gold and smoked slightly at the corners. Nico opened it with some trepidation, and there was a sudden flash of gold light.

Hermione jumped. "What was that?"

Nico shrugged and opened the letter. It was from Will, written in Ancient Greek.

Dear Death Boy,

Have you completely lost your mind?! Less than a day after a fading episode, you throw yourself in front of a raging hippogriff? I'm seriously considering writing an angry letter to the principal about his school's horrible safety measures. And as for you…words of caution apparently don't get through to you, so I've had to resort to other words. Have fun, and I really hope a teacher calls on you today.

Kisses (because as annoyed as I am, I miss you),

Will

Nico reread the letter, more flattered by the "kisses" than he cared to admit. Then he set it down and glared at Hermione. "You told my Will I'd come to harm when it was just a scratch upon my arm?" He clapped a hand to his mouth in horror.

Hermione stared at him, her mouth twitching in the beginnings of a smile. "Did you just say what I think you just said?"

Nico took a deep breath and tried again, hoping he was imagining things. "It would seem he was most aggrieved that I am more careless than he believed."

Oh no. No, no, no. Will did not do that.

Hermione giggled. "Aggrieved…it certainly sounds like it."

Nico scowled. "He placed a rhyming curse on me, do not react with so much glee!"

Hermione continued giggling. "Oh, this is priceless…I wish I had a video camera."

Nico folded his arms, resolutely refusing to open his mouth.

"Oh, all right," Hermione sighed. She took out her wand. "Finite."

"Thanks ever so much, but Finite will not work as such." Nico gritted his teeth; for a moment, he'd thought it had worked.

"Well, that's all I've got," Hermione said apologetically. "How long do you think it will last?"

"How long it lasts, I dread to think; days it took when Cabin Five un-synced."

Hermione giggled yet again. "Days…oh this will be very interesting…"

Nico stood up and wordlessly stormed out of the Great Hall. Great Styx, how was he going to deal with this?!

Unfortunately for him, Luna caught up to him in the entrance hall. "I heard about the hippogriff; how's your arm?"

Nico shrugged. Thanks to the unicorn draught, it was mostly healed by now.

"It sounded like you were really brave, saving Malfoy like that."

Nico shrugged again.

"You're a true Gryffindor, that's for sure."

Nico stared awkwardly at her, wondering how badly he would hurt her feelings if he simply walked away.

"Is there something wrong with your voice?"

"Oh yes, I'll say there's something wrong; I'm stuck rhyming all day long!"

Luna giggled, then eyed him quizzically. "Did you run into a Blibbering Humdinger?"

Nico sighed. "No, a friend of mine has many talents and uses them to keep me off my balance."

"Ah. The exploding letter?" Luna suggested sagely.

Nico nodded.

"Your friend sounds fun. I wonder if he'd be interested in writing an article for The Quibbler."

Nico sighed again. "Please, just let me pass so I can get to class?"

"All right." Luna giggled again. "See you."

Classes were miserable. Thankfully, no teachers called on Nico, but it was impossible to practice any incantations that didn't naturally rhyme. Will had effectively prevented him from actually doing any magic. Nico wasn't sure if that had been intentional or not.

That night, Nico did not join Hermione in the library; he holed in up his dormitory, trying to do his homework. Everything he wrote came out in rhyme. He tried Italian and Ancient Greek, too; everything rhymed. Professor Binns probably wouldn't notice, but he couldn't possibly hand in rhyming essays for his other classes.

Just as he was finishing his History of Magic essay, Fred and George came into the dormitory. "Rumor has it you're under a curse—"

"—that forces you to speak in verse." The twins smirked.

"Why do you care? Get out of my hair."

"Well, as rising masters of pranks—"

"—we think your curse could help our banks."

"You want to make money off me being funny? Not in a million years, so you'd better switch gears."

"No, no, you misunderstand."

"We want a rhyming curse for our brand."

Nico stared blankly at the twins. Fred sighed. "We're trying to start a joke shop, and we'd love to market a rhyming curse."

"Write to Will Solace in New York. He is a huge rhyming dork."

George tipped an imaginary hat. "Gracias, amigo."

Nico scowled. "I'm Italian, not Spanish. Now would you please vanish?"

"Ciao, then." The twins waved as they exited.

Nico sighed and snuggled Vescia. At least she didn't mock him.

The curse finally wore off on Thursday morning, much to Nico's relief. They had their first Potions lesson that day, and he really didn't want to rhyme in front of the Slytherins.

As soon as he entered the classroom, Pansy Parkinson sidled up to him. "How's the arm? Does it hurt terribly?"

Nico stared at her in confusion, wondering why she cared. "No, it's fine now."

"But it must have hurt at first, didn't it?" Malfoy chimed in. "The way you had blood gushing everywhere…"

Nico shrugged. "Barely noticed."

"Barely noticed?" Malfoy repeated in disbelief. "You were mauled."

"Ah, that was nothing. Getting mauled by a werewolf, now that hurts."

Several students backed away from him. "You're a werewolf?" Pansy yelped.

"No, I got clawed, not bitten. And why are you all so concerned about me? Don't expect me to believe I'm suddenly the hero of Slytherin House."

Malfoy glanced at Crabbe and Goyle before answering. "Wouldn't you agree that no competent teacher would ever have allowed that to happen?"

Nico glared coldly at him. "See if I save you next time." He sat down and began setting up his cauldron, pointedly ignoring the Slytherins. Snape was also giving him a look of interest, though fortunately he did not interrogate Nico.

That day, they were set to making a Shrinking Solution. It was more complicated than any potion they had studied before, requiring precision with every carefully prepared ingredient. Nico was thankful that his arm had fully healed; he wasn't sure he could have managed the potion otherwise.

Unfortunately, Neville didn't do so well. An hour into the lesson, his potion should have been acid green, but instead it was orange—as Snape rather cruelly demonstrated to the class.

"Please, sir," Hermione offered. "I could help Neville put it right."

"How is he to learn if you do everything for him?" Snape retorted. "Longbottom, at the end of this lesson we will feed a few drops of this potion to your toad and see what happens. Perhaps that will encourage you to do it properly." He gave Neville one final sneer, then moved on to criticize Lavender's potion.

Neville looked at Hermione, his eyes wide in fear. He mouthed a silent plea for help.

Nico moved over to him. "You did better last year when you were reading out the instructions to me. Maybe that's what you need to do, read the instructions aloud."

"Right," Neville said nervously. "Add three drops of hellebore…" He tried to add hellebore to his cauldron, but his hands shook and he accidentally added too much.

"Okay, stop," Hermione said firmly. "Calm down. Take a deep breath. Don't do anything until your hands stop shaking."

Neville took a deep breath. "Calm. I'm calm. Trevor's going to die. I'm calm."

"Good enough," Nico sighed. "Now tell me what you're doing. Every step of it, as you do it."

Neville slowly grew more sure of himself as he continued brewing. Every once in a while, Hermione offered a suggestion that might help fix his earlier damage. Bit by bit, the potion gained its proper green coloring.

Eventually, Snape announced that they should have finished adding their ingredients, and he ordered the students to clean up while their potions stewed. Once they'd all washed up, he ordered them to gather around Neville's cauldron and watch as he tested the potion. Neville was breathless with fear, but fortunately, his potion had turned out all right—Trevor turned into a tadpole.

Snape scowled as he gave Trevor an antidote. "Miss Granger, I believe I told you not to help him."

"With all due respect, sir, you said not to do it for him," Hermione replied, her head high. "He did it himself, I just steered him in the right direction."

"Hmph. Class dismissed."

As soon as they were out of the classroom, Neville let out a huge sigh of relief. "Thank you, Hermione."

"You just need more faith in yourself," Hermione said encouragingly.

"And Snape needs to stop picking on him," Nico added irritably. "What does he have against Neville?"

Neville shuddered. "I'm just glad we only have Potions once a week…"

That afternoon, they had their first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. The students gathered in the empty classroom and took out their books. Professor Lupin was the last to arrive. He set his ragged old briefcase on the desk, then turned to the class and announced that they would be having a practical lesson. Once they'd all put their books back in their bags, he led them out of the classroom.

Out in the corridor, they ran into Peeves, who was floating upside down and stuffing a keyhole with chewing gum. When Professor Lupin got close, Peeves broke into song. "Loony, loopy Lupin, loony, loopy Lupin—"

"Peeves," Nico said coldly. "Shut up."

Peeves gave Nico a contemplative look, a malevolent light in his eyes. "Rumor has it the little lord is losing his grip."

Nico flinched, remembering the last time someone had said that to him. "Really? Who told you that, Bryce Lawrence?"

Peeves narrowed his eyes at Nico. After several tense moments, he zoomed away. Nico sighed, trying to push aside the dark memories.

Seamus gave him a funny look. "Who's Bryce Lawrence?"

"No one you'd know."

"Did I hear Peeves call you a lord?" Professor Lupin asked curiously.

"All the spirits here are very old-fashioned," Nico said irritably. "The di Angelos haven't used titles since the Great War."

Professor Lupin raised an eyebrow. "The Great War?"

It took a moment for Nico to realize his error. "Er…um…World War I."

"I see." Professor Lupin gave Nico another odd look, then cleared his throat. "Shall we proceed?"

The group set off again, following Professor Lupin through the castle. Hermione looked around to make sure no one was paying attention, then whispered to Nico. "Are the di Angelos really Italian nobility?"

"Venetian aristocracy since the city broke away from the Eastern Roman Empire," Nico answered. "Not that it matters much now."

"You never mentioned that before."

"There was never a reason to."

At that moment, they reached the staffroom. Professor Lupin opened the door. "Inside, please."

The staffroom was empty except for Professor Snape, who stood up as the class entered. When Professor Lupin made to close the door, Snape spoke up. "Leave it open, Lupin. I'd rather not witness this." He strode to the door, then paused and looked back. "I understand that one of these students was once attacked by a werewolf. I hope that won't cause any problems for your lesson." He sneered, as if he and Lupin were sharing some private joke. Then he swept out of the room and closed the door.

Professor Lupin looked slightly disconcerted. However, he shook it off and beckoned the class toward a wardrobe in the corner. Suddenly, the wardrobe shook violently.

"Nothing to worry about," Professor Lupin said calmly. "There's a boggart in there."

Many of the students looked very worried at that. Professor Lupin explained how boggarts liked enclosed spaces, then asked the class if anyone could explain what a boggart was. Hermione answered that boggarts were shapeshifters that took on the form of whatever their opponent most feared. Professor Lupin confirmed this, then asked Harry if he'd spotted the class's advantage over the boggart. Harry looked surprised to be called on, but he correctly answered that with so many people in the room, the boggart wouldn't know who to frighten. Lupin smiled at Harry, then went on to say that the best way to defeat a boggart was through laughter.

Professor Lupin taught them an incantation to use against boggarts, then called up Neville for a demonstration. After determining that Neville's greatest fear was Professor Snape, Professor Lupin suggested that Neville picture Snape in his grandmother's clothes. He then suggested that the rest of the class come up with ways to render their own fears amusing.

Nico had no idea how to do that. He wasn't entirely sure what his worst fear was. He could think of a number of things that terrified him, and he couldn't think of any way to make any of them less terrifying. He was fairly good at facing his fears, but making them funny? As he'd clearly demonstrated earlier that week, he was rather humor-challenged.

"Everyone ready?" Professor Lupin called. Most of the class nodded and rolled up their sleeves. "Neville, we're going to back away. Let you have a clear field, all right? I'll call the next person forward…everyone back, now, so Neville can get a clear shot." Once the class had obeyed, Professor Lupin took out his wand. "On the count of three, Neville. One—two—three—now!"

Sparks flew out of the professor's wand, and the door opened. Professor Snape stepped out, glaring malevolently at Neville. Neville initially backed away in terror, but soon got a hold of himself. "Riddikulus!"

Suddenly, Snape was dressed in an old woman's clothes. Professor Lupin began calling other students forward. They all had fairly tame fears which were easily handled. The only boggart that Nico found remotely frightening was Ron's giant spider. Ron removed the spider's legs, causing it to roll over until it landed in front of Nico. Nico raised his wand and took a deep breath.

With a sharp crack, the legless spider changed into a giant black pit. Nico's feet slid out from under him and he felt himself being drawn forward. He wasn't the only one; several other students fell over and clutched at the furniture to stay in place. Nico's feet went over the edge, and his mind went blank with panic—was it possible for a boggart to create a true entrance to Tartarus?

"Here!" Hermione said quickly, pulling him behind her. There was another crack, and the boggart changed again. It became an unconscious copy of Nico, pale and transparent, radiating darkness.

Hermione swallowed. "Riddikulus!" The boggart changed into a giant rag doll.

Harry stepped forward, the only student who had yet to face the boggart. But, like Hermione, Professor Lupin moved forward to face the boggart instead. With another crack, the boggart turned into a silvery-white orb that hung in the air. Professor Lupin turned it into a cockroach, then told Neville to finish it off. Neville once again forced Snape into his grandmother's clothes, then let out a bark of laughter that caused the boggart to explode into wisps of smoke.

Professor Lupin praised Neville and awarded five points to everyone who fought the boggart. He also awarded points to Hermione and Harry for answering his questions at the beginning of class, then gave them a brief homework assignment about boggarts. As soon as the class was dismissed, Nico hurried out of the room, determined not to let anyone ask him about his boggart.

Hermione was not so lucky. "Miss Granger, could I have a word?"

Hermione turned back and forced her face into a neutral expression. "Yes, Professor Lupin?"

"May I ask why you stopped Mr. di Angelo from fighting the boggart?"

Hermione briefly shut her eyes, trying not to think of that sadistic giant from Nico's memory. "Because if there was a chance—any chance—that the boggart could send people to the actual pit that Nico fears—that wasn't a risk worth taking."

"What is this pit that inspires such terror?"

Hermione took a deep breath. "Whatever happened to him there, it was too horrible for him to speak of."

Professor Lupin looked thoughtful. "Would this have something to do with the unusual effect the dementors have on him?"

"Probably."

Professor Lupin nodded. "I see. Well, while I understand and appreciate your concern for your friend—your boggart was really rather touching, by the way—I doubt a boggart could actually send him anywhere. Please let him fight his own battles in the future."

"Yes, Professor Lupin." Hermione swallowed and left the room.

Nico quickly grabbed his bag from the classroom and hurried back to Gryffindor Tower, trying very hard to force the boggart—and Tartarus—from his mind. To his relief, he spotted Fred and George in the common room, and he had an idea. He walked over to them. "Do you know where the kitchens are?"

The twins shared a look. "Perhaps. Why do you want to know?"

"Look, I told you who to talk to for your rhyming curse. Least you could do is give me some information in return."

The twins shared another look, then George shrugged. "Fair enough. Go through that door the Hufflepuffs always come through at breakfast, then down the staircase. There'll be a painting of a bowl of fruit. Just tickle the pear, and it'll giggle and turn into a door handle."

"Thanks." Nico went up to his dormitory to stow his books, then took his empty bag and set off to follow George's directions.

Once Nico had obtained some dog-friendly food (he hadn't been expecting a horde of house elves, but they were very helpful), he left the castle and headed for the Forest. Not knowing where to look, he tried to make his way back to the clearing where he'd first met the dog. Before he reached it, the dog bounded up to him, sniffing hopefully and wagging his tail.

"Hey, buddy. I brought you some food." Nico unpacked his bag and set the food on the ground. The dog began to greedily devour it. Once he was satisfied that the dog was eating, Nico sat on a nearby log and looked around. "The Forbidden Forest…honestly, from what I've seen, this place is less dangerous than the forest at camp. They say this forest is full of monsters, but so far all I've found are thestrals and now you. Well, there was that one time with You-Know-Who and the dead unicorn…"

The dog paused in his eating and stared at Nico in apparent horror.

"Oh, don't worry, You-Know-Who is in a different forest now. Word of advice: stay away from Albania." Gods, that had been humiliating.

The dog gave Nico an uncertain look, then continued eating.

Nico thoughtfully eyed the dog. "You know, if I'm going to keep feeding you, I should probably come up with a name for you. Hmmm…how about…Felpato."

The dog paused again and cocked his head at Nico.

Nico shrugged, switching to Italian. "I think it suits you. And I'm certainly not naming another pet 'Puffball'."

Felpato stared at Nico, then let out a short bark.

"Felpato it is, then."

Felpato continued staring at Nico, then slowly began eating again, looking mildly disconcerted.

"Wait a minute…" Nico said, frowning. He switched back to English. "You act like you understand me when I talk in English…but you're giving me blank looks when I talk in Italian. Do you understand English?"

Felpato hesitated, then nodded.

"But not Italian."

Felpato shook his head.

"Well, there went any theory that you might be an ordinary stray that wandered onto the grounds. Oh well, I'm no stranger to magic dogs. You're much smaller than my father's guard dog…could be a young hellhound, maybe?"

Felpato gave Nico an odd look, then snapped up the last bite of food and curled up next to Nico. Nico scratched his ears, staring through the trees, his mind drifting to the boggart and Tartarus again.

Eventually, Nico broke the silence. "Ever been to hell?"

Felpato shuddered and nodded.

"Me too. Never really leaves you, does it."

Felpato shook his head and put his chin on Nico's lap. Nico absently petted him, staring into the distance again.

When he came to dinner that night, Nico stopped next to Hermione and narrowed his eyes at her. "You turned me into a rag doll."

"Had to be something funny," Hermione replied, not looking up from her shepherd's pie.

"My fading episode really bothered you that much?"

Hermione hesitated, still not looking at him. "You keep insisting you're going to die young, and then you practically turned into a ghost right before my very eyes. Yes, it bothered me."

Nico sat next to her. "Well, I'll try not to let that happen again. Can't make any promises about not dying young, though."

"So long as you try," Hermione said, pushing her food around her plate. Then she took another bite, frustrated with herself. She still hadn't worked up the courage to tell Nico the real reason behind her boggart—she was terrified of being forced to relive his memories again. If he had another fading episode, she wasn't sure she'd be able to muster up the courage to help him.

A/N: "Felpato" is the official Italian translation of "Padfoot". Not that Nico did that on purpose.