AN: Sorry it's short, I just wanted to introduce Daphne. It's more of a filler than anything. Thanks to anyone still reading this!
Chapter Five:
Nico had never liked dungeons. They were dark and cold, a mockery of his father's palace in the Underworld. But while the palace still retained some warmth from Persephone, still promised a comfortable bed at the end of a long day – however washed out and colourless – , dungeons promised nothing but torture and death. To a normal human, they would just be slightly creepy, and claustrophobic, but Nico could feel the deathly aura like a cloak around the area. It was suffocating to him, reeking of pain and misery. Needless to say, he wasn't exactly pleased to know he had to spend a year's worth of lessons down there.
He stood with his back to classroom door, watching the fork at the end of the corridor, waiting for the Professor would arrive. Professor Severus Snape, apparently. The delightful bat that had turned his nose up at Nico's dinner ritual. He could barely contain his joy. Or his sarcasm.
Boredom quickly set in, as Dean was talking to his best friend, Seamus. Nico couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance at this. It was foolish to be jealous, but Dean was the only person in Gryffindor he actually knew and liked, and he almost counted him as a friend, instead of merely distant family. This was one reason why he remained stand-offish at camp; he grew attached too easily. It had thus far proved to be his downfall, yet at Hogwarts he allowed it to happen with Luna and Dean. He wondered if that was because they too were outcasts, and he could almost believe they wouldn't leave in the end. Almost.
Anyway, he felt a little put out by this reminder that Dean had other friends whom he preferred. It was reminiscent of Percy, and Bianca. Percy left to be with Annabeth, Bianca left to be with the Hunters, and Dean left to be with Seamus. Nico was always the one left behind. It was depressing. But now was not the time to think on this.
The Potions Master swooped around the corner, cloak flapping with the motion. Nico resisted the urge to cover his nose from the lingering fumes around him; as a son of Hades, poisons smelt exceptionally strong to him, even if they were meant to be odourless. It was something Chiron had warned him about when describing the classes here. The Bat smelt like he'd been bathing in them. Disgusting.
He opened the door, ushering them inside with a sneer. The stench in the room was somehow stronger than that around Snape, and Nico felt slightly faint, trying hard not to inhale the leftover fumes. Snape stalked to the front of the class, gesturing for them all to sit, glaring all the while. He seemed to harbour a particular dislike for Harry, for some reason. Shrugging inwardly, Nico decided to redirect that hatred at himself. He thought it might be healthy for him to have a mortal enemy for once. Godly and Titan foes grew fairly dull and repetitive after a while. Also, he was in a reckless mood. Must be the potions.
He gazed around the classroom, trying to find an empty seat. His eyes immediately focused on Dean, but he had taken a place beside Seamus, and the chubby boy – Neville. There was only one entirely unoccupied table in the room, residing in no-man's land between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Judging by the utter loathing each side was shooting the other, this was certainly the most dangerous area to be.
He was sure that the Slytherins would try sabotage; the Ferret-like blonde from dinner was smirking, holding some leafy plant and checking out possible targets. Seriously, if the boy wanted to cause mayhem, he should at least be more subtle about it. Nico could see his plan from where he sat, even with some kid resembling a Minotaur (but fatter, uglier, and hairier) in the way!
Shaking his head, Nico dropped into his seat, and yanked his book free. Glancing at the board for the potion, he flipped through the pages until he found the Draught of Peace. It looked complicated, all funny names and stirs. He was unbelievably glad the book was already in Greek. If it hadn't been, he dreaded to think how long it would take to make sense of the words.
He took out his Potions Kit, quickly realising that he lacked a few ingredients. Before he could worry, however, almost the entire class got up and moved towards a cupboard he had seen out of the corner of his eye. He slipped inside, grabbing handfuls of strange plants and pickled body parts. His job was made harder by the Latin labels; English was hard enough. Already, he knew that he wouldn't like Potions.
After ten minutes, he had gathered all but three ingredients, and was among the final two students in the cupboard. Shifting to face the other side of the cupboard, he reached up for the Valerian Root on the top shelf. It was a stretch, and he almost tripped into a short dark haired girl aiming for the same root.
"Sorry," he grunted, cradling the root as if it would try to escape.
"S'fine. Mind getting me some of that?" she said breathlessly. She was wearing Slytherin green, and panting from straining her arm too much. Nico, taking pity on her, struggled for some more root. This time, he really did fall – into the shelf this time.
"Ow!" he groaned, rubbing his head. The Slytherin obviously found his pain amusing, as she started laughing quietly, shaking her head in faint exasperation.
"Only a Gryffindor. When I asked for the root, I didn't mean you should risk your remaining brain cells getting it," she murmured, taking it.
"You're welcome. And, remaining brain cells? I'm not that dumb!"
"You know, technically dumb means mute. You're not helping yourself here."
"Smartass."
"And proud of it. Now get moving before Snape asks what's taking so long. We wouldn't want my brave knight getting in trouble now would we?" she said sarcastically, patting his cheek with a smirk. "The name's Daphne, by the way. Daphne Greengrass."
"Di Angelo. Nico di Angelo."
"Bond. James Bond," she mocked. Nico grinned widely.
"Bond fan?"
"When it suits me."
"I thought wizards didn't know much about Muggles?"
"Hey, I may be a Slytherin Pureblood, but I'm not as bigoted as the rest. I just have to pretend to be."
"Who said anything about bigotry? Wizards in general just don't know much about Muggles – same way as Muggles know nothing about wizards. And, pretend to be? What's that about? Why would anyone pretend to be bigoted?"
"It's a long story. One which we don't have time for, and I don't trust you enough to tell you. Now hurry up; Snape's coming." With that, she grabbed the last of her ingredients and pushed the door open. Nico followed her lead, sliding into his seat moments later.
"Fifteen points from Gryffindor for dawdling," drawled the Bat with a sneer in Nico's direction. The latter raised an eyebrow, noting that he didn't take any points off of Daphne, though she had taken just as long. Apparently Dean was telling the truth when he told Nico that Snape was prejudiced against the other Houses. He wondered if it was also true that Gryffindors were targeted by him most of all. He suspected it was, but then he hadn't seen how Snape treated the rest of the year.
He mulled over what she had said as he tried (and failed) to obey the instructions in the book. Pretend to be a bigot? Why would she have to do that? Sure, it was rumoured – truthfully, as far as he could tell – that Slytherins were Muggle-hating Dark Lord worshippers, and to fit in she would have to act the same. But Daphne didn't seem to care so much about that. When he asked, she actually looked a little... afraid. As if someone would hurt her. This was all just speculation, and he was probably completely wrong on all counts. But still... he vowed to himself that he would not let her come to any harm. She reminded him too much of his sister: sarcastic, humorous and a smartass at heart. He barely knew her, but he liked her.
Finishing his potion (a very dark red instead of turquoise and emitting green sparks instead of silvery vapour) he looked in her direction, grinning when she looked up with a smile. He felt bad, being friendly with her, when he knew that it was just opening up more chance for hurt. Even so, he had one year. One year in which his only tasks were surviving high school again, and killing his brother. For a demigod, this was almost a normal life, and he was not going to waste it. His resolve reached its peak at that moment; if he got hurt at the end, he got hurt, but by the gods he was going to live his life his way this year. He wanted to belong, and not be alone, so he was going to make it happen.
With renewed confidence and a weight off his shoulders, he winked at Daphne, and threw a leftover Valerian Root at the Ferret's cauldron, ignoring Snape's shout of "Detention!". The effects were amusing, what with Ferret falling asleep with a dreamy look on his face after breathing in the fumes. So that was what happened if you added too many roots. Who knew?