Nico placed his knight carefully into position, and prayed that Ron didn't notice what he did. He then prayed that he would take the bait and please please please…
"Ha, got your queen!" Ron's face was smug, two moves away from taking Nico's king. The two were in the common room; playing chess when they should have been doing homework, but what did it matter. It was just a repeat of the year before for Nico, and Ron had Hermione to help him out, as she had a tendency to take pity on him and Harry at the last minute. Ginny said that Ron loved chess, and if this was what it took to make sure his girlfriend's brother didn't kill him; then he would happily take it. Being friends with the boy could only help, and Ron seemed like a nice guy.
Nico made no comment; years of living with the god of the Underworld did that to him; but instead whispered instructions for his knight to slide over to Ron's king, knocking it over, and muttering "checkmate" under his breath. Ron just stared at him in disbelief.
"How did you- I mean, how- I didn't see," Ron continued to stare at him for a minute, and then reverted his attention to the chess board, seeing exactly how he had been beaten. It took a minute, but then he saw how Nico had distracted him, sacrificing some powerful pieces, all the while keeping his king protected, taking pieces that could prove a threat. And then, when Ron was focused on getting the queen, Nico had slipped his knight in position to take the king, providing Ron's rook moved. Ron just played right into Nico's hands.
Ron glared up at him. "I want a rematch. Now." In response to this, Nico made a big deal of checking his watch, frowning at the time it showed.
"Sorry, I've got detention in a half hour, and I want to get something to eat first. Can you show me the way down, it being my first day and everything? I'd rather not get another detention because I got lost." Nico admitted, appearing a bit sheepish.
"Alright." Ron agreed, although he was a bit grumpy about it. "Though can we have that rematch later? I mean, I have a reputation to consider, and if people find out that I let a newbie beat me, well, it could be a bit embarrassing." Nico shot him a reassuring smile, and started to the portrait door, opening it and walking through.
"Don't worry, you can have that rematch, and I will make no attempts to take away your chess champion title. As long as no attempts are made on my poker title that is…" Ron gave a small chuckle as they continued walking down the hall, scanning the walls for something, though Nico couldn't imagine what. Nico looked at him, puzzled. "What's so funny?"
Ron uncovered his mouth and explained. "Fred and George are the reigning poker kings here, in addition to being the prankster kings. They have a tendency to go crazy if someone threatens their title."
"So, I've been playing poker since I was eight or nine. And I had picked it up pretty quickly. Just ask my friends, I cleared out their purses on a regular basis. Though after a while they refused to play with any real money, only candy or chocolate frog cards. I can't imagine why though." Nico ended with an innocent little smile gracing his features, looking benignly at Ron, who was staring at him, open-mouthed and wide-eyed.
"Do you think you can beat Fred and George? I mean, it's a Weasley family tradition that each Weasley gets taught poker during their first week by the oldest Weasley at Hogwarts, and Percy wasn't a very good player, but when Fred and George were here their first year, Charlie was here, so they learned from him, so they know a few more things than I do. I mean, I've asked them to give me a few lessons, but they keep insisting that it was Percy's job, but Percy has sort of rejected us, so maybe they might show me, but they'll probably insist that I should know by now, so… I mean, if someone could put them in their place that isn't Mum, and she doesn't know about the poker tradition, so I can't exactly tell her about it, ya know?"
Nico let out a large laugh. "Sure, no problem. And what's your main problem with poker? Maybe I can help."
At this, Ron blushed a deep red. "My poker face gets me every time. It's useless; people can always tell when I'm bluffing." He mumbled quietly.
"Oh that's easy to fix, all you need is practice without the worry of losing money. There's a muggle card game that I learned that helps with that, I can teach you and help you find your poker face."
"Really? That's great, thanks Nico!" Ron exclaimed before his eyes settled on a tapestry. "Come on, there's a passageway here that cuts out five minutes of the journey, and another from the Entrance hall to right outside the defense office, only a few doors down. I'll show you." and with that, Ron grabbed Nico's arm and started dragging him through the passageway, getting him to the second floor right by the stairs to the entrance hall. Once outside the passageway, Ron pointed to a painting of three Victorian era women playing cards, saying that the other passageway was behind it. Nico nodded, memorizing where all the passageways were, so that if necessary he could make quick, unquestionable escapes, shadow-traveling from in front of the entrances and reappearing on the other side. Even in the magical world, people thought that under-seventeen year-olds reappearing and disappearing at will was weird.
Ron and Nico rushed into the Great Hall, seating themselves by Fred and George, who attempted to engage Nico in conversation, though Ron hushed them, saying that Nico had detention soon with the toad. Nico smiled in between shoving his food with Sheppard's Pie, thinking that the description of their professor was accurate. When he finished he ran off to the passageway, dodging some first-year Slytherins. When he reached the passageway he tugged at the frame a bit, and it gave way, showing a dusty passageway, full of shadows. Nico quickly closed the door quietly before anyone could come by, and shadow-traveled to the end of the passage, long accustomed to the rush of darkness that came with running through the shadows. He poked his head out from a dark green tapestry and tip-toed out, and walking quickly to Professor Umbridge's office. He knocked his hand on the door, and heard an immediate reply in a sugary sweet voice that made his teeth hurt just by listening to it.
"Come in."
Nico opened the door, and was bombarded with an assault of pink. All surfaces were covered in lacy little doilies and cloths. There were several vases of dried flowers that would have made Persephone scream in anguish. Decorating the walls were several little plates that were decorated with large, Technicolor kittens, each with its own little bow hung around its neck. The walls were papered with a pink, nauseating pattern that made Nico wonder if the Underworld should change its color scheme. This was far more torturous than the black parapets and obsidian walls.
Nico looked at the horrible sight, transfixed by the foulness of the whole room that he jumped when he heard a slight cough, "hem, hem." He turned and saw the professor, not noticing her earlier due to the fact that her flowered robes blended in with the wallpaper and tablecloth on her desk.
"Good evening, Mr. di Angelo."
"Evening." Nico replied, albeit a bit stiff, with a forced politeness in his voice.
"Well, sit down," she said, pointing to a small table draped in lace beside which she had drawn up a straight-backed wooden chair. A piece of blank parchment lay on the desk, apparently for his use.
Umbridge smiled at him again, sickly sweet as ever, and said, "You're going to be doing some lines for me, Mr. di Angelo. No, not your own," she said, when he reached into his bag to get out the quill and ink. "You'll be using a special one of mine." With that, she handed him a black quill with an unusually sharp end.
"What should I write, professor Umbridge?" Nico asked, his voice as sickly sweet as hers, setting her ears on edge.
"I must not tell lies." She told him softly, her voice hardly above a whisper.
"How many times?" he asked, using the same sweet, innocent voice that fooled her not for a moment. Her beady eyes narrowed slightly, before going back to their original state.
"Why, as many times as it takes for the message to sink in ."
Nico thought that this was an odd choice of wording, but said nothing. He raised his quill, but realized that she had forgotten something essential.
"You haven't given me any ink."
"I don't think you're going to need any ink." Professor Umbridge replied, the merest hint of a laugh in her voice.
Nico shrugged and started to write, I must not tell lies. He let out a small gasp of surprise and pain. The words had appeared on the parchment in shining red ink. At the same time, the words had also appeared on the back of Nico's right hand, as if traced by a scalpel- yet even as he stared at the shining cut, the skin healed over, leaving the place where it had been slightly redder, but smooth.
Nico looked around at Umbridge. She was watching him, her wide, toad like face stretched in a grin.
"Yes?"
"Nothing," Nico muttered.
He looked back at the parchment, placed the quill on it once more, and wrote, I must not tell lies, and felt the searing pain on the back of his hand for a second time; once again the words had been cut into his skin, and once again they healed over seconds later.
And on it went. Again and again Nico wrote the words on the parchment, and quickly came to the conclusion that he was in fact, writing in his own blood. It was a disconcerting thought to the son of Hades, who had a firm belief in the power of binding oaths.
Darkness fell outside of Professor Umbridge's window, while candles continued to burn inside it. The professor kept her undying gaze on her pupil as he scratched out on his hand, I must not tell lies over, and over again. The cuts healed instantaneously, leaving nothing more than a sting, but as time went on, the wounds took longer to heal, and bled more. The pain was also becoming more than a sting, but not enough to cry out from. The blood flowed freely now, a bright red with a hint of gold in it, glittering in the candlelight. I hope she doesn't notice. He had heard that this woman was responsible for laws restricting the rights of anyone that wasn't completely human. And Nico had an odd feeling that if Professor Dolores Umbridge ever found out what he was, he'd be on the run faster than you could say demigod. Of course, finding a magical school that would take him would be a bit difficult after that. And the dead might make decent muggle teachers, on the matters of magic, a live person was required. Otherwise Nico would have just learned from the shades. Though having a chat with Nicolas Flamel would be interesting…
Eventually, long after darkness, far after curfew, Professor Umbridge spoke to him.
"Come here."
Nico stood, his hand in pain, the blood still flowing, but it had slowed tremendously after he had ceased writing with the cursed quill. After a minute the blood stopped, and Nico wiped his hand discreetly on his trousers, leaving no blood on his hand, the words clearly shining pink over the raw red skin.
"Hand." She said.
He extended it, and she took in her own. Nico repressed a shudder as she touched him with her thick, stubby fingers on which she wore a number of ugly old rings with gems that may look real, but were clearly fakes to a son of Hades.
"Tut, tut, I don't seem to have mad much of an impression yet," she said, smiling that sickly sweet smile. "Well, we'll just have to try again tomorrow evening, won't we? You may go now, and try not to get caught dearie. It wouldn't be good to be caught after curfew, now would it?"
Nico stared at her, furious, and gave her the glare he reserved for the people he hated. He was willing to bet she had someone a few corridors down, waiting to catch him. He gave her a curt nod, and turned, leaving the room quickly. After closing the door, he checked for the life auras around him, and satisfied that Filch was still a few corridors off, shadow-traveled to a spot a little ways from Gryffindor Tower and hurried to the portrait of the Fat Lady. There, waking her up without waking up the entire castle was the problem.
He tried tapping on her frame, whispering, "M'am? Miss? If I could please get in now, that would be helpful, please?"Nico did a quick cast of life auras. Merda, Professor McGonagall was patrolling nearby, and would be there in a minute. Slight panic overtook Nico. He couldn't exactly travel into the middle of the common room, or his dorm. If people saw him, it wouldn't be good. And he couldn't even claim young apparator, because you couldn't apparate inside of Hogwarts. His father had made him read all of the rules before he came here.
Nico's tapping became more frantic, his voice growing a slight accent as he did so. "Signora, per favore, let me in, I don't need another detention. I'll try not to be back late again, ti prometto, just let me in!"
Finally the Fat Lady woke up, starting u a bit. She looked around some, then noticed Nico. He said the password quickly, muttered a quick "gratzi" and slipped inside the portrait, closing it just as Professor McGonagall came into sight. Nico stood by the portrait quietly, waiting until she was gone, before slipping away to his dorm, noting the empty common room. He could have shadow-traveled into the common room, without worry. But better safe than sorry, he told himself.
Not wanting to take chances, Nico stole his way into his dorm quietly, getting into bed quickly, drawing the curtains as soon as he got to his bed. He lit the candle beside his bed, took out a quill and parchment, and got to work on his essays. This may be a repeat year for him, but he didn't intend to fail. Besides, he told himself, working on the translating charms would be useful. Writing in Greek was so much easier than English, or Italian even.
Though he scowled when dripped a huge glob of ink on the parchment. The Wizarding World of Europe was way behind the American one. The use of paper and pencils was one adjustment that he was rather fond of.