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Chapter Text

Hermione Granger, eleven years old, scanned King's Cross Station for anything that could be the entrance to a magical, secret platform. She saw none, and it was nearing 11:00. The train would be leaving in just 5 minutes. Her parents looked just as stumped as she was, and Hermione was beginning to lose hope. She pushed a flyaway brown curl behind her ear. A dozen what-ifs ran a marathon through her head, including but not limited to 'What if I can't find the platform?'

Hermione had just given up all hope of ever going to a school for magic, Hermione spotted a suspicious-looking pair dart towards the Granger family. The two could only be father and son, with the same shaggy black hair and sad black eyes. They wore matching black clothing, right down to the silver veining and lining of their tailored black jackets. The boy, closer to a teen, pushed a trolley in front of him, which carried a black-and-silver trunk with what could only be the boy's initials etched on the front.

N. T. di Angelo

The boy looked to be about 2 years older than Hermione, but what made her heart leap was the fact that, balancing on a wooden perch in a silver cage on top of the trunk, was a midnight-black owl. This boy was a wizard. Hermione hurried over to him, without a second thought to her parents or any social standing- who was she kidding, these people must be loaded, and almost squeaked in fear when the man looked her in the eyes.

Drawing upon every ounce of her courage and keeping contact with the man's no-longer sad-looking eyes. "Excuse me, but might you be able to tell me how to get onto Platform nine and three-quarters? Please?" Hermione asked, remembering her manners at the end of her question.

The boy smiled thinner than a knife, and took in Hermione's appearance. After his brief appraisal of Hermione had been conducted, the boy spoke. "Yes, I can. Just follow me." The boy smiled still, almost menacingly. So Hermione followed as the boy said goodbye to his father in the most formal of terms that would almost suggest that the man was royalty, then walked over to the barrier between Platforms 9 and 10. "Now, just walk through the wall, it won't hurt, but if you're scared, it might be a better idea to try running instead. Less time to think about what could go wrong and all." the boy said.

Hermione blinked in surprise. Run at the wall? Was this boy mad? But then, smirking slightly, he ran at the wall, and as Hermione's parents were about to shout, he disappeared, vanished into thin air as if the barrier had swallowed him up. So Hermione, being nobody's fool, ran after him, and Hermione's mother almost screamed. But after a second of darkness, Hermione exited to a new platform with a sign reading 9 3/4 The boy was waiting for her. He had kept his half-Cheshire grin, although the smile didn't quite meet his eyes. He beckoned her to follow him across the platform. He raced over the cobbles to a scarlet train that proclaimed HOGWARTS EXPRESS on the front in bright gold lettering. Hermione's parents appeared through the barrier and scurried to Hermione as the boy waved his hand again, gesturing for her to get to the train. Hermione promised to write, and got kissed and hugged into oblivion. Eventually she boarded the train and sat down in an empty compartment.

The two put their trunks up on the luggage racks and looked at each other in a pregnant silence. "Sorry, but I never caught your name" she finally worked up the courage to ask.

He smiled that creepy-as-all-getout smile as he answered "My name is Nico di Angelo. What's yours?" he seemed to have a faint British accent, but it was slightly marred by three others, American and Italian were prominent, but Hermione didn't know the last one.

"Hermione Granger. Thank you for guiding me to the train. I would've missed it had you not. I hope I didn't trouble you." She let her eyes fall to the floor, where she traced circles with the toes of her shoes.

"It was of no inconvenience to me, but why didn't Professor McGonagall explain how to get onto the platform?" Nico asked her. 

"She said she detected a magical signature from one of my parents, so it wasn't a problem. She left before Mother could say otherwise." Hermione's eyes snapped back up.

"Okay: what do you know already of Hogwarts?"

"That there are four houses, and that Hogwarts is a castle, and that-" Hermione was interrupted.

"Alright, the houses four are Gryffindor, for the brave; Hufflepuff, for the loyal; Ravenclaw, for the wise; and Slytherin, for the cunning. I, myself, am in Ravenclaw. I am at the top of my year and have been since day one" Nico sounded very proud of himself. A horrible trait that Hermione happened to share. "No-one has ever come close to getting above me. I do all the extra credit and then I help out the teachers in my time not spent working." Nico's tone suggested 'Call me a suck-up, I dare you.' Hermione decided that she didn't dare. They talked about stuff like school and friends, but they left out family, because Nico tended to flinch when it was brought up. But Nico decided to venture into the safe zone of cousins.

Nico had many cousins, Katie, Percy, Thalia, Jason, Miranda, Tyson, and many others. He had many nieces and nephews, like Trix, Leo, Nyssa, Piper, Frank, Drew, Lacy, Harley, Connor, Travis, Pollux, Will, Clarrise, Chris, Annabeth, Malcolm, and so many others he had barely the time to remember all their names. But Percy was dating Trix, who was quite technically Percy's niece, and Travis was dating Katie, who was his aunt, Connor was dating his somewhere-in-there step/half/something sister, Lou-Ellen, and Jason was dating his own unspecified-but-maybe-niece Piper, Clarrise and Chris' fathers were half-brothers, but they didn't seem to mind, Frank was dating Nico's half-sister Hazel(he flinched at 'sister' before correcting it to 'half-sister') whose father was Frank's father's uncle. Eventually, Nico said this. "Let's just leave it at 'I have a messed up family'"

Hermione didn't ask about family again. "Say, Nico, where are you from?" She queried.

Nico leaned back on the soft leather seats. "I'm actually from Italy, but I have deep roots in Greece." So that's what the third accent was, "I was raised in America before coming here about two years ago to study magic. I go back to visit over the summer, but i mostly spend it with my father. He likes the company, because my stepmother leaves to spend time with her mother in spring and summer. I barely have to see her anymore, and I like it. I spend my breaks either at my cousin's house in Manhattan, or at school. Sometimes I go to my family home in Italy. I hate my stepmother and the feeling in mutual. She tells me so all the time." Nico's stepmother sounded like a horrible woman.

A knock came on the door. It opened to show a platinum blonde boy with grey eyes. He smiled when he saw Nico. "Nico! It's good to see you again! You've been coming for two years already? Wish you would have told me sooner." the boy asked.

"Draco, I haven't seen you since... well, in a while. How have you been?" Nico's tone became warmer, as if he was greeting an old friend he hadn't seen in far too long.

"Good, you? How's your father?"

"My father is doing well, irritated as usual, though."

"You might want to change into your robes. What house are you in, Nico?"

"He's in Ravenclaw, the house of the wise" Hermione interrupted. The boy, Draco, then noticed her.

"What's your name then, and what house do you want to be in?" Draco asked, looking down his long, pale nose at her as if he had done it a thousand times. Hermione sat straighter.

"Hermione Granger, and I hope to be in Ravenclaw"

"Draco Malfoy, same."

Nico let out a harsh bark of laughter. "You in Ravenclaw? I'd sooner expect to see you in Gryffindor, Draco."

Draco glared playfully at Nico before continuing. "As I was was saying, I'm trying to help a boy find his toad. You come help too, after changing into your robes" He shook Hermione's proffered hand. 

This was the start of a beautiful friendship.

Chapter Text

"Granger, Hermione" Professor McGonagall called from the front of the Great Hall. She looked at the Ravenclaw table, where Nico gave her a small smile. Hermione walked to the stool where the Sorting Hat sat, smiling at her. She placed the Hat on her head, and sat down.

Well, what have we here? A young daughter of...oops, you're not supposed to know that yet! A voice, cracking with age and now cackling madly, began in her head. Hermione barely flinched, after seeing a platform that appeared only after you ran at a wall and frog-shaped chocolate candies that hopped and croaked, and trading cards with moving pictures, a talking hat wasn't the weirdest thing that had happened to Hermione today. Used to our way of life already, hmm? Adaptivity, that's a good sign for starting. Where to put you? Now, I seem to recall a boy quite like you a few years ago, with the courage of a Gryffindor, the loyalty of a Hufflepuff, the cunning of a Slytherin, and more than enough brains for the rest of the first-years. He was, by far, one of the most powerful boys I have ever sorted, and that's saying something. We're not counting the girls of course, then there would be no competition at all. He chose to embrace the intelligence, and join Ravenclaw. A good choice for him, I think. You, too, would do well with the wise. Do you see yourself fitting in with the intelligence-abundant Ravenclaws? It's your choice, child. Make it count.

Hermione ran the words through her head like you might swish Jello through your mouth. Wisdom was her strong point, and the loyalty/courage/cunning really just sounded like some glorified flattery. It was nice to be told that she was loyal and courageous and cunning, but that didn't make her her. Intelligence on the other hand, was a statement, a fact, a single-word definition of Hermione Granger. 'Ravenclaw, then' she thought.

"RAVENCLAW!" The Hat yelled, and Hermione removed the Hat as a grin split her face in two.

Hermione almost skipped to the Ravenclaw table, sitting down next to Nico. He gave her another small smile, almost a smirk but too small. The smile didn't go farther than his lips. The thirteen-year-old boy looked back at the Sorting Hat, where another girl "Greengrass, Daphne"  had just been sorted into Slytherin. Hermione watched as depressingly few other students were sorted into Ravenclaw.

"Malfoy, Draco" McGonagall read from her scroll. The same boy from the train with the platinum hair and grey eyes who had apparently come from a noble or at least fairly well-known or influential family, walked up to the stool. He seemed nervous, toying with the cuffs of his sleeves. After a minute or two, the Hat, gaining many surprised looks and shouts of 'unfair!' from green table at the far left, shouted

"RAVENCLAW!". Draco smiled widely as he strode over to Nico, who fist-bumped him.

"Awesome. Did you hear the Slytherins? I think more than one of them is going to call for a re-sort later tonight. They probably feel cheated out of another perfectly good political child-puppet. Not to mention, you are one of  the best Quidditch players I've ever seen." Nico said as Draco sat down on the other side of the black-haired preteen.

"I half wanted to be in Slytherin, but then I remembered that I have more people I trust to have my back in Ravenclaw than in Slytherin" Draco replied. "Is she one of us?" he looked at Hermione, raising one eyebrow at her as he looked her up and down.

"I think so, but just to be sure..." Nico reached down into his hiking boot, pulling out something that looked much too long to have fit in there.

"Nico, is that a dagger?" Hermione asked quietly. The blade was black as a shadow and about a foot long, with a silver hilt and crossguard. It had an onyx-coloured stone set in the pommel. He smiled and slid the weapon back into his boot.

One of the older students whipped around, putting a finger to his lips and shushing them. The pointed back at the Sorting Hat, who had just been put on the head of "Potter, Henry".

All the same, Nico leaned over and whispered into Hermione's ear. "Hermione, what do you know of the Greek and Roman gods?"

"So you mean to tell me that the Greek and Roman gods are real, live in New York, have children with mortals, and we three are a few of those children?" Hermione asked after about half an hour of explaining on Nico and Draco's parts.

"Yep." Nico lifted his goblet to his lips and taking a sip of sparkling cider.

Hermione thought about that for a minute. "So, am I Greek or am I Roman?"

Nico paused, his goblet halfway back down to the table. He slipped one finger under the crystal base to lessen the noise as he set the goblet on the polished wood with practiced ease. Nico said something under his breath in Italian, probably cursing from how Draco looked scornfully at him.

"You kiss your sister with that mouth, di Angelo, or has she washed it out with bar soap yet?" Draco smirked.

Nico glared at him, effectively shutting him up. "You still your tongue. I don't need this from you, Malfoy." Nico turned to Hermione. "I hate doing it like this, because it's a very unreliable method, but how would you prefer to fight?"

"Umm, I think it would be safer to fight in organized groups with a proper strategy, someone always has your back, and whatever you're protecting has multiple lines of defense." she replied.

"You're probably Roman, then. Hermione Granger, daughter of Minerva, this is Draco Malfoy, son of Athena, and I am Nico di Angelo, son of Hades and Ambassador of Pluto. Nice to meet you."

After the Welcome Feast, the two fifth-year Ravenclaw prefects, Colin Devereux and Naomi Burdges, led the new first years up to the Ravenclaw Common Room. It was rather a large castle, so the walk was long. Hermione and the others took the time to get to know each other better.

First of all, there was Nico, of course. His just-past-the-shoulders shaggy black hair that was long enough to tie back in a ponytail, and eyes of the same color. His marble features and knife-thin smile that held back so many secrets, like a locked box with the lock just loose enough that you can get a tiny glimpse of what's inside. His skull ring, his black robes that seemed to melt into the shadows, shadows that clung to the hem of his cloak like so many blackened skeletal fingers. His blue-and-silver tie was just loose enough that it made Hermione want to go over and fix it, but she would never dare to do so. Not until she knew him better.

You know how some people, most people actually, who have one part of their body that's disproportionate to the rest of them? Nico di Angelo didn't have one visible to Hermione. Each part of him was made to fit: If this was a demigod, then Hermione really wanted to see an actual god. Essentially, Nico looked exactly how Hermione would've imagined a young Hades -Pluto to her, but details were so time-consuming- tall, dark, handsome, and mysterious.

There was Draco, who she met on the train. He was average height, with white-blonde hair and large grey eyes. His face was long and pale, with small, petulant lips that probably didn't smile much at home. He had a long, proud nose that almost pointed at the end, and it seemed he had been raised with it either in the clouds or in the pages of a book. He wore his black school robes with a blue lining, just like all the students. He wore the bronze that accompanied their sapphire with pride on his shoelaces.

There was Seamus Finnigan, a spirited Irish boy with a dramatic flair. He had nut brown hair with a tinge of red, and his freckles adorned his face like the sprinkles put on a cupcake by a child; more resembling a large freckle with occasional patches of skin than a face with occasional freckles. He had bright blue eyes that sparkled like sapphires in the flickering light from the wall-mounted torches. He had a blinding smile and an apparently permanent layer of soot on his nose. He wore a grey sweater-vest under his black-and-blue robes, favoring the same bronze that Draco did.

Neville Longbottom was the kind of boy you could call an onion. With every passing sentence, another layer of his personality was revealed. He was a cute boy, but in the same way that a teddy bear was cute- you just wanted to hug him and take him with you everywhere. Neville was the kind of person who would be one of the smartest in the class, but he was just too shy and nervous to raise his hand. He had slightly shaggy, which is to say, earlobe-length brown-blonde hair and big brown eyes like a puppy's. He was short and a bit on the chubby side, but it was only noticeable if you were looking for it. He, too, wore the black and blue robes with a sweater vest under it, but he wore silver instead of bronze.

Terrence, or Terry, Boot and Anthony ("No, really, call me Tony, I insist.") Goldstein could have been brothers. They had the same golden-blonde hair and hazel eyes, a strange but not entirely unpleasant combination. They were pale and gangly, acting just like brothers would, even though the two of them had never met before, with Terry being a pureblood(Whatever that meant: Hermione would have to find out) and Tony being a muggleborn like Hermione.

Terry had sharper features, however: elfish chin and a small, pointed nose, where Tony had blockier features as if his face had been delicately carved from stone. Still angular, but with a stronger jawline and heavier-set eye sockets.

There was also Percival ("Just call me Percy, everyone does.") Weasley, the first Weasley in over nine generations to be Sorted anywhere except Gryffindor. His mother had almost disowned him, but Mr. Weasley had quickly deterred his wife by reminding her that this would get him a good job later on and such. Percy had brilliant red hair that was cropped very close to his head. He was tall and gangly, like most every Weasley, with an innumerable amount of freckles. He was dating a girl named Penelope, or, as she insisted, Penny, Clearwater.

The only other Ravenclaw girl in her year who seemed to want to talk to her, besides Victoria of course, was Marietta Edgecombe (Marietta's too long for me. If it isn't too much trouble, could you call me Marie?"), a painfully shy girl with curly red hair and big, round glasses over light brown eyes. She was apple-cheeked and pale as marble everywhere else. She was soft-spoken, though when she did speak she had a strong Welsh accent. She was rather tall for an eleven-year-old, and still she hadn't lost all her puppy fat. She looked to be closer to nine than to eleven, but Hogwarts had never made a mistake before- or so she had been told.

Sarah Carter was a very plain girl. She had brown hair she kept in a high ponytail and brown eyes behind brown-framed glasses. She was of average height and average build. Everything about her was average except that she hated boys with a passion one normally didn't see in someone as plain as Sarah. She made it very clear that she couldn't stand boys when Terry went to shake her hand and she slapped him. She had left an angry, red welt rising on his skin.

Keixy Maldonado was a Hispanic girl with dark brown hair that fell in waves to the middle of her back. She wore a white flower pin at the very back of her head, where she had secured together two braids that stemmed from her temples. She smiled a lot, but didn't talk all that much. She had small, slanted brown eyes that were perfectly fitted to the rest of her.

Victoria Cooper was a pretty American girl, with long, dirty-blonde hair, kaleidoscopic eyes, and a gap between her two front teeth. She said she had a sister she looked almost exactly like, but her sister had their mum's nose, while Vic, as she liked being called, had her dad's. When asked what her sister's name was, she responded with a very cheery "Bellatrix!", and Neville stopped moving for a second. "But we all just call her Trix, because she hates her full name. I hear her boyfriend's allowed to call her Bella, but that's because they're dating and shit." (Vic had gotten a slap on the back of the head from one of the prefects for her language, despite the fact that Hermione had heard eight-year-olds say worse things to their mothers)

Penny Clearwater, a fourth-year like her boyfriend, was nice too, long blonde curls and big blue eyes, as she had a laugh like faerie bells. She, Hermione, Marie, Victoria, Keixy, Sarah, a pair of girls named Shelley and Jessica, and one dreadfully self-centered second year named Cho Chang made up the Ravenclaw girls who weren't prefects.

The prefects were everything Hermione could ever want to look up to.

There was, to start, sixth-year Jessica Calend, a tall girl with auburn hair and green eyes. She was a strong girl who never failed to get her opinion in before anyone else's, and she would argue it the loudest. She wore Ravenclaw colors proudly, and showed herself to be one of the most tomboyish girls Hermione had ever met.

Sixth-year Simon Jones was nothing if not a pleasure to the eyes. He had windswept blonde hair and eyes like the sky on a summer's day. He was tall, tan, and spoke with an American accent, as if he didn't grow up in the United Kingdom. The amazing thing was that he was so obviously and flamboyantly gar-y that Hermione felt that he could walk into a room full of naked girls and they wouldn't spare him a second glance because all he'd do would be look at their clothes and say how the color would really bring out their eyes. He held himself with more pride than should've been possible, and kept himself war, inviting, and smart enough to be worthy of Ravenclaw.

There was the fifth-year girl prefect, Naomi Burdges. She was a dark-skinned girl who spoke with a Louisiana accent, so she had obviously come from afar ("Honey, it was Hogwarts or Mama Odie's Year-Long Voodoo Camp out in the swamps behind New Orleans. Guess which one I went for."). Naomi had black hair down to her waist, kept in a tight-as-can-be French braid to avoid hindrance, though a few, shorter curls had sprung away from the plait, most likely to Naomi's deep displeasure. She had smiling brown eyes like Hershey's Special Dark hot chocolate, warm and inviting. She could also hold decent conversation.

And, finally, there was also fifth-year Colin Devereux, who didn't often speak, but was definitely worth listening to when he did. He never said or did anything without thinking of every possible outcome of the move or word, no matter how short or small. He had short, dark brown hair and pale green eyes like clouded jade. He was, as he told her when she asked him, a son of Prometheus, of which he was very proud.

"Colin," Hermione began, "About how many people in Hogwarts are demigods?"

Colin thought for a while before saying his piece. "I would estimate that roughly three-eighths of the school consists of demigods or legacies. Ravenclaw is mostly made up of children of Athena or Minerva, and not a single child of Hecate or Trivia has gone anywhere else to date, but we are very proud of the resident son of Hades. Gryffindor is mainly children of Ares and Mars, or of other war gods and goddesses. Hufflepuff has the most children of Demeter and Ceres, with the rare occurrence of a child of Proserpina or Persephone as well. Plant or peace-based deities. Slytherin also has an impressive amount of children of wisdom, seeing as they value cunning. Most Apollo or Hermes (Mercury, whichever you prefer) children are dispersed among the houses equally, though occasionally they will lean towards one house or the other. In recent years, more and more Apollo children have gone to Hufflepuff, while Hermes children have shifted most of their weight over to Slytherin."

By this time, they had gone over just about moving staircase to a hallway on the fifth floor to a big, oaken door. The door had no keyhole or knob, only a big bronze knocker in the shape of an eagle. The first years were slightly confused.

Naomi smiled at the new first-years. "Any of you want to take a gander on how to get in?"

The door vaguely reminded Hermione of a riddle she had once read in her favorite book.

White box without hinges, key, nor lid, yet golden treasure inside is hid.

If only the door were an egg, it would be easy for her to get in, or perhaps if there was a passcode or a secret knock-

Hermione, without a second thought, took two steps forward, pushing past Draco and Neville, took hold of the eagle knocker and rapped it against the door three times. As soon as she set the bronze metalwork back upon the door, the eagle ruffled its feathers and did exactly as Hermione had expected. In a voice that gave away nothing, the door asked a riddle.

"You may always chase me, but you will always be about three miles away. What am I?"

Hermione stood and thought for a few minutes, occasionally looking back at her fellow new Ravenclaws for suggestions. She looked out the window just off the door at the horizon, as if the Black Lake could give her the answer. Suddenly, a thought struck her. she stood stock straight and snapped her fingers. "I've got it!" she turned back to the knocker. "The horizon."

The door knocker puffed itself up, and, if it was possible for a half-bird made of metal, smiled as it swung back to reveal another winding staircase. Hermione grinned, with all her buck-toothed glory, and followed so close behind the prefects after that, it was a wonder she didn't step on the hems of their robes. The other first years congratulated her on figuring out the door and how they never would've thought of it like she had.

The staircase was long, but she and the others weathered it, because there would be a nice warm bed waiting for them at the top.

The common room was beautiful, all furnished with oak wood, blue velvet of every shade, and silver and bronze gadgets of every kind; bronze rivets tacking cushions to high-backed chairs by the fireplace, with silver ribbon and bands of the same metal held bindings and acted as bookmarks on every shelf. Hermione would've loved to have pulled one of the books off the shelf, sat down, and read 'till the cows came home, but she had classes tomorrow, and her watch said it was already eleven o'clock at night. She and the other four girls for her dormitory went up the stairs and to the right to the shared bedroom where their things were already stacked and ready for use.

The first thing Hermione did was take out a photo from the top of her trunk. It was of her and her parents on Hermione's last birthday.

That woman in the photographs isn't your mother. She never was, and there's no pretending now. said the traitorous voice at the back of her head. Hermione nearly cried at that. Not her real mother. That couldn't be right. Hermione could easily just be one of those clear-sighted mortals that Nico had told her about. Apparently all wizards and witches were clear-sighted. There wasn't even any proof that she was a demigod. Besides, that little voice was the same one that had told her not to trust Nico, but he was her first friend in a new and strange world.

Hermione set the photo on her bedside table. She looked at her watch again once she had put everything in the set of drawers at the foot of her bed. Eleven-thirty-five on a school night. She clicked her tongue, but secretly, she was excited. She had never stayed up this late before, except for that one Christmas Eve when she and her dad had staked out the family room, waiting for Santa to come. Both of them had fallen asleep, but it was one of the best things Hermione had to think about when she was sad.

Hermione sighed and picked up her pajamas from the bed where she'd laid them. She went into the bathroom, and found that it was, blessedly empty. She got changed, looked one last time at the photo on her bedside, and took off her watch. She laid it down in between the picture frame and her wand, which was on the table, before crawling into bed and pulling the blue drapes around her four-poster. She blew out the candle she'd had by her bed when she walked in. Hermione said goodnight to her roommates before succumbing to the welcoming arms of Morpheus.

Chapter Text

Hermione was feeling confident today. It was her first day of classes today, and she was determined to make the best of it. She woke up early that morning, especially considering that she had gone to sleep so late last night. Yawning, Hermione got up, grabbed clothes for the day out of her chest of drawers at the foot of her bed, got changed in the bathroom, brushed her teeth and hair, and was ready to start the day.

By the time she had gotten her wand into its holster and her bookbag over her shoulder, the other girls had woken up. Victoria looked like she was about to fall asleep where she stood, Marie seriously needed a hairbrush, Sarah was standing but still hadn't opened her eyes, so no-one was sure if she was actually awake, and Keixy looked more awake than any of her peers, besides Hermione.

After an hour of squabbling over who got the bathroom first and a very, very brief pillow fight that Hermione lost horribly, all five girls were ready for action. They got their wands and bookbags, shoes and socks, and Victoria was wearing a necklace that she had sworn someone had stolen during the night. They found it under her bed, but whatever. Victoria ("If you call me Tori one more time, Sarah, I swear to every god out there that I will make your life a living hell."). The five girls went down and into the common room and half-past seven in the morning, only to find most of Ravenclaw already awake. The first-year boys were still in their dormitory, fighting very loudly about someone stealing a sock and someone breaking someone else's toothbrush in half for an imagined plight.

Hermione, while waiting for the boys to come down, took a book off one of the shelves. It was a book about dragons and their various habitats, feeding habits, and other special abilities. There were drawings of varying dragons, their musculature, their skeletal systems, and the insides of dragon eggs in different stages of development. Sitting down in one of the comfortable chairs by the fireplace, Hermione started reading.

Hermione didn't know how long she read about dragons, but it was Nico who eventually shook her out of the book. His hair was held out of his face by several bobby pins, and his eyes were slightly clouded over, like he hadn't gotten nearly enough sleep.

"Morning, Hermione. It's time to wake up." Nico said to her without a smile, like he didn't have the energy for one.

"Wake up?" Hermione mumbled. She hadn't fallen asleep, she was reading.

"You fell asleep while reading. Don't worry, it's a normal occurrence. Pretty much everyone's done it. Anyway, Hermione, these are my roommates, Calder, Richard, Franz, and Jamie. Guys, this is Hermione."

Richard was a slightly chubby boy with strawberry blonde hair and watery blue eyes. He was average height for a thirteen-year-old boy, and all in all not too shabby looking. He had apple cheeks and a bright smile, which he flashed as he shook Hermione's hand.

Calder was an Indian boy, as in, from India, and he had the same exotic beauty that Hermione's English ancestors would've seen in his Indian ones. He had slanted brown eyes, not entirely unlike cacao beans. He wore a head wrap, not a turban like Professor Quirrell, and a shock of black hair could be seen peeking out from under it. He wore a gold ring in his nose and gave a mysterious smile as she grasped Hermione's hand.

Franz looked more like a very short fifteen-year-old rather than a still shorter-than-average thirteen-year-old, but he was in Nico's year still. He had short brown hair, like oak tree bark, and sparkling blue-green eyes. He wore rectangular glasses with wide lenses, which made his face look a little thinner than it actually was. He smiled pleasantly at Hermione when he shook her hand, just like his friends before him.

Jamie was, in short, good looking. He was tall, almost as tall as Nico, with pale blonde hair and blue eyes with a surprising amount of freckles. He smiled a lot as he spoke, with his firm build apparently from playing Beater in a Wizarding game called Quidditch. From what Hermione could tell, he had been on the team for two years running, and Nico was a Chaser on the same team, whatever that meant. Hermione added it to her ever-growing list of things to look up during free time. Soon she wouldn't have any actual free time left, with all the things she needed to look up.

"So, Hermione, there's a study group that meets during first free period. I'm the moderator of it this year, but other than me it's a group of firsties. There are more people you need to meet there. Interesting people. Possibly semi-godly people. In the library, in the Herbology section. Don't be late." Nico said. It wasn't an invitation as much as it was an order, but Hermione nodded all the same.

"Say, Nico, why are we all waiting?" Hermione asked.

Nico explained that they were waiting because Ravenclaw had a thing going where they all went down to breakfast together, and they stuck together as a group. If you had to go somewhere, you took a buddy or maybe even two. Hermione didn't know why, but she would have to find out eventually. All Ravenclaws went down to breakfast in one group. Then they split into seven groups, each group consisting of one year of students, and went off to classes as now-separate groups, meeting back up for lunch, then splitting again, then dinner and then they all went up to their common room together. The longer you were at school, the fewer buddies you had to take with you when you went somewhere until, in seventh year, you could go anywhere alone and feel secure.

No sooner had the first-year boys- Draco, Neville, Seamus, Terry, and Tony, came down, the entirety of Ravenclaw- first years, second years, third years, fourth years, fifth years, sixth years, seventh years, and assorted prefects of fifth and sixth years- went to breakfast as one, big, happy, consisting of roughly twenty strangers, family. They sat in two, uninterrupted lines around the breakfast table, and waited for the morning post and chatting happily with the person sitting next to them and filling them in of what they did that summer.

Most of the upper-years got the Daily Prophet, even though they knew that just about everything the rag had to say was either twisted or just made-up. But the Ravenclaws, Hermione and the others would soon learn, had the habit of picking every bone the Prophet wrote clean, and finding out the truth, sieving it out of the lies, then they would give it to someone, normally a nice Hufflepuff girl named Joanne, to write up as the truth, and send it to the prefects, who would read over it, make copies of it to keep, and send one copy to their publisher. The publisher was the father of one of the Ravenclaws, and had once done this same thing when he was a Ravenclaw. He would put it in his newspaper, The Raven's Rambling.

The post came and went, Hermione sent a letter home that she'd written on the train last night. She and the others sifted through the lies of the Prophet, giving their opinion of the article they were assigned, writing down the facts and what should be taken out of the story on a piece of parchment. Colin and Naomi reviewed the girls' work, and then, Naomi smiled. "You did well, kidlets. We made the same assumptions."

Hermione heard the unspoken 'But we would've done it faster' that Colin was just about screaming with his mind, as far as Hermione could tell. And he was right. All the higher-grade 'Claws had finished their larger articles in less time than it took Hermione and her group to do their smaller one. But Hermione wasn't put off. She now had something more to strive for. To be faster at this.

Professor Flitwick, the tiny Head of Ravenclaw House, came by at almost that exact moment to pass out the class schedules.

Hermione, on Mondays such as this, had first Charms, with her head of house and the Hufflepuffs. Then Potions with Professor Snape,a class which was also shared with the Hufflepuffs. Then Defense Against the Dark Arts with Professor Quirrell, who seemed to be much too timid for anything pertaining to the Dark Arts. The class was shared with the Hufflepuffs. Then there was lunch, where she would spend the time eating and talking more with the upperclassmen. There were a surprising number of demigods in Hogwarts, with Ravenclaw having the highest amount of them, of which they were very proud. As in, almost half of all Ravenclaws were demigods or legacies.

After lunch, Hermione had a free period for studying. She, obviously, had no real way of telling if she was a demigod until she was claimed, which, if it happened at all, would be in a year. The could be Greek or Roman or just a clear-sighted mortal for all she knew. She would definitely study this.

After free period, Hermione had History of Magic with Professor Binns, a class she shared with the Gryffindors. And finally, Transfiguration to end her day with the Hufflepuffs again and Professor McGonagall.

Classes were a bit boring, except for Potions. Hermione had read everything she could get her hands on over the summer, and that meant books on Witchcraft and Wizardry that she had bought at Diagon Alley. She knew everything by heart in theory, but couldn't practice for fear of the Ministry of Magic taking away her wand- she had bought the newest book of Wizarding laws- and Obliviating her, leaving her as boring old Hermione Granger again.

After lunch, where she chatted aimlessly with Draco and Neville about pureblood culture (What? She was curious, and it was actually rather interesting. She hadn't thought to get a book on it), she and the other first years interested (Victoria, Draco, Neville, Seamus, and Marie) went to the Herbology section of the Library, and, sure enough, there was Nico, sitting at a circular table with other first years from differing houses.

There was a dark-skinned boy from Slytherin, with brown eyes and black hair. His features were heavy and handsome. He introduced himself as Blaise Zabini.

There was a girl who came with him, and she had platinum blonde hair and ice-blue eyes. She said her name was Daphne Greengrass.

There were a few Hufflepuffs, too. There was a black haired boy with glasses, who stuttered too bad when he tried to introduce himself that they just had to skip over him, deciding to come back to him later. There was another Hufflepuff, a boy called Dean Thomas who Seamus made fast friends with. There were many Hufflepuffs, like Ernie Macmillan, a small boy with wheat-colored hair and light brown eyes.

It took a while before the black haired Hufflepuff boy had summoned up the courage to say his name, even though he had to say it twice before they all heard him. He lifted his head, showing a face pale in contrast to his hair and eyes, not entirely unlike Nico. His eyes were the most vibrant green, and they were just so innocent under a layer of pain he hadn't learned to hide. He was thin and very tall for his age, looking to be more the height of Nico than of an eleven-year-old.

"H-h- hullo... My name's Harry...Harry Potter."

All the pureblood or half-bloods in the group gave an exclamation of shock. It was so loud, Madame Pince, the librarian, came rushing over to see what the fuss was about. She gave them a stern talking-to about the most important rule- Silence reigns true in the Library, or near to the same.

Their meeting wasn't very long, seeing as they all had classes to attend, and only Nico could use freaky powers to disappear. They found out that someone, probably Minerva, had placed a glamour charm over Hermione's eyes, making them brown instead of their natural grey.

"Now, all of you remember, we meet here every other day at free period. We study, we do homework, we are quiet about it unless we have a question for the rest of the group. Understood? Alright. Off you go to classes." Nico told them at about fifteen minutes to the end of their free period.

"Say, Nico," Draco asked, "What class do you have next?"

"Divination. See you in hell, I'm told this class has killed people before."

Hermione flashed Nico a small smile as he melted into the shadows, off to Divination.

In two days, she would have grey eyes and basic practice in spellwork. She smiled as she went off to History of Magic.

She and the boys went off to the History of Magic classroom, which had no teacher in it. The students all, after ten minutes, decided that they would be better off doing things like homework or reading. Just when Hermione saw Seamus about to make something explode, a ghost drifted through the blackboard and started to read out of the textbook at them. The older students had warned them about Professor Binns. They said he did nothing but drone on about the Goblin Wars, and some of them had even said that they had memorized what he said, because it was always the same, every word.

And they weren't lying. Hermione had gone in and taken out her textbook, ready to get a summary of what the book said, but all that Binns did was dully recite the exact words on the page, word for word. She decided that, since she had already read the book, she would just do her homework for other classes. She got halfway through an essay for Potions when the bell tolled, signalling the end of class.

Hermione, Marie, Victoria, Neville, Draco, Tony, Terry, Keixy, and Sarah soon found out why Ravenclaws always traveled in packs. Hermione had read books where this happened; The popular, leading sportsmen, the Gryffindors, would all gang up on one nerd, the Ravenclaw. Seamus had decided to go ahead to meet his new Hufflepuff friend, Dean, before class started when the new Gryffindor Golden Boy, Ronald Weasley, had shown up with two other boys, Jameson and Jakobs, and started beating up Seamus. Hermione, who couldn't stand to see her friends getting hurt, pointed her wand at one of the thug's bookbags; they had to carry around a lot of books, so it was pretty heavy.

"Wingardium Leviosa" She said, doing the appropriate casting formation alongside the incantation. The bookbag lifted itself into the air, very wobbily so, and Hermione guided the bookbag over to a place at about Ronald's knee, right above his foot. Hermione smirked as she ended the spell, letting the bag, and it's heavy contents with it, fall onto Ronald Weasley's toes. He shrieked like a pig taken off to slaughter as the History of Magic textbook's binding struck his foot. Hermione quickly stowed away her wand as Ronald's goons went over to help up their squealing boss, and take him to the Hospital Wing. As soon as they were out of sight, Hermione and the others went to help up Seamus, who now had a varied palette of bruises on his face, arms, and stomach.

"Seamus, do you want to go to Madame Pomfrey?" Marie asked, her face showing no end to her concern for their friend. Seamus shook his head.

"Not while that sorry excuse for a human being is in there."

"We have to get to Transfiguration, quick. Do you have any trouble walking?" Hermione asked. "Although, I'm sure Professor McGonagall will understand if we're late, if we explain why."

And so they set off for their last class of the day, hoping to not get punished for tardiness.

Chapter Text

Professor McGonagall, while very understanding as to why they had been late, she was still a teacher who abided by the rules, and thus was obliged to either give students who were tardy a detention or to take twenty points from their houses. Even though none of the students were her Gryffindors, she admired that they had all been willing to stay with their injured friend who refused to go to the Hospital Wing, not to mention the fact she didn't want to take away 180 points from Ravenclaw on the first day. She said that she was very disappointed in Weasley, Jameson, and Jakobs and they wouldn't get off without punishment just because they were of her house.

They were told to serve their detentions with Hagrid on Wednesday night at midnight in the Forbidden Forest.

The rest of Transfiguration was spent taking notes and the group trying to convince Neville that he was, in fact, a wizard and was perfectly capable of turning a matchstick into a needle, and was not a squib while Seamus spent it trying to explain to his friend Dean that Seamus getting beat up was not, in fact, his fault.

Eventually, Dean stopped apologizing and Neville managed to turn his matchstick silver before the bell went off, and class let out for another free period before dinner. By this time, they had convinced Seamus that he really did need to go to Madam Pomfrey because Hermione was sure that he was supposed to still be able to see out of his left eye and he wasn't just really tired in his right arm, which was still supposed to move.

As it turns out, one of Weasley's goons had kicked Seamus in the eye, and had severed the optic nerve, the nerve that connected the eye to the brain, against the side of Seamus' eye socket. Weasley himself had stepped way harder on Seamus' arm than how it had first appeared, because it had been broken in two places from all the weight that Weasly applied. ("All damage is repairable, so Mr. Thomas, if you don't stop apologizing I will have to ask you to leave, you are trying my patience.")

Upon arriving at the dinner table, they told the prefects what had happened, and then they told Ronald's older brother Percy. Percy looked scandalized.

"Has he ever done this before?" Hermione asked Percy while all the other boys were admiring Seamus' new eyepatch. Seamus had elected to wait and see if he could deal with only seeing out of one eye because to heal it would've meant going to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, and hospital bills were ridiculous.

"He's shown violent tendencies, yes, but I never thought he would break someone's arm or inadvertently blind someone. Mother will hear about this for sure, if not from me then from the twins. They're horrible gossips."

"The twins?"

"My brothers, Fred and George. When I was Sorted into Ravenclaw, they decided to abandon all hope of going into Gryffindor like the rest of the family, because, and I quote, 'If stuck-up-prat Percy can go into a different house, how hard could it be?'" he chuckled to himself, remembering the time and obviously thinking it funnier now than he had back when it was said the first time.

"What house are they in?"

"Hufflepuff, and they're actually quite good friends with Nico di Angelo over there. He helps them with their pranks sometimes. I'd report him for troublemaking, but I don't want to get points taken away from Ravenclaw for it, and I can't say I'm innocent of helping them either."

"Points taken away for pranks? And you help them?"

"Those boys are the reason Hufflepuff is always in last place for the House Cup. And sometimes they need inspiration, and a better knowledge of magic than what a third-year can give them. Now, what did you say about detention?"

Back in the Ravenclaw common room, Hermione was ready to just sit and do her Transfiguration essay before bed. But, her devilish plot was foiled by Nico coming to talk to her.

"Seamus and the others told us what you did. They said you performed an excellent Hovering Charm."

Hermione blushed, the praise being too much for her to handle. "It wasn't all that great..." she mumbled.

"Oh I think you did just what any hot-tempered Muggleborn witch would do. Drop something on their foot with magic."

She giggled a bit, her face still slightly hot.

"Anyways, good job."

Giving her an approving look, he turned and started to walk away.

"Thank you, Nico."

"For what?"

"The compliment."

"Oh, that." He scratched the back of his neck.

He walked over to his friends on the other side of the common room, where one of them said something that made the rest of them laugh. Hermione was pretty sure it was Calder. She shook her head at the boy's antics; one of them was telling about something that had happened at Quidditch practice and was making faces and apparently doing a funny voice to represent someone, probably the coach.

Hermione turned back to the table in front of her, where she had already laid out the note that said the assignment for Transfiguration- Explain the basic properties of Transfiguration and one instance or what would happen if something were missing or changed. 15 inches, due Wednesday. Textbook pages 115-143.

She took out her inkpot and quill, which she had practiced with between buying them and coming to school, as well as a roll of yellowish parchment. She pulled the textbook- A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch- and turned to page 115, and read the passages she had noted rather quickly. She looked at the clock- 9:00 PM. If she couldn't get the essay done tonight, she still had tomorrow night and History of Magic to finish it.

She finished ten inches of her essay by 10:20, at which point she was shaken out of her work by Marie, who was following the other girls in their dorm to bed. Hermione conceded to be done for the night when she saw the time. Lights-out was at 10:45, and she didn't want to be going to bed late and then not get enough sleep.

The two girls followed their classmates to the dormitory where they all slept, where the girls were chattering like squirrels about one thing or another. Hermione joined in occasionally, speaking from behind the curtains of her bed where she was changing out of her uniform (She ditched the robe when they got back into the common room- She had put it into her schoolbag. Hermione had been looking at other bags she liked in the shop- this one or that one had nice impressions in the leather or a shiny buckle to keep the bag shut- and when she made a comment about how they looked nice but didn't look quite big enough, the shopkeeper came by and told her they had bags with Undetectable Extension Charms on them. Hermione had been over there faster than you could say "Cool", and had quickly picked one she liked.

Hermione took her robe out of her bag and set it in the bottom drawer next to the others just like it in the set of drawers at the foot of her bed. She put her clothes from that day into the laundry bin next to the bathroom door, knowing from what the upper-years had told her that they would be returned to her at the end of the week, the entire week's clothes with them.

She heard the door swish open over the carpet. Naomi had come to tell them to go to sleep now, they'd already been given an extra ten minutes, so they'd better get to sleep now or they'd wake up duct taped to the bed. Coming from Naomi, this was likely to be carried out. And since only Hermione knew a cutting jinx, and even then, only in theory, they knew to go to sleep then and there.

That night, they figured out that Victoria got nightmares more than she got dreams.

At about one in the morning, Hermione woke up to Victoria screaming for someone she called Bella. Hermione shot to her feet, and heard Sarah, Keixy, and Marie do the same as they all rushed to Vic's bedside. Hermione sat down next to her new friend and held her as she cried.

"What was it, Vic? What happened? Do you want to talk about it?"

Victoria was almost inconsolable, but through her tears, she managed to tell. "When Child Services took me and my sister away from our dad." Hermione and the others all knew they wanted to ask for the rest of the story, but decided against it.

Hermione hugged Victoria and said to her, "If this happens again, just know that you can talk to us about it. No exceptions, we won't tell a soul."

Keixy nodded. "I will never tell anyone what happened here, even if they try to torture it out of me. You are my hermana now. So I will act like it."

Marie agreed. "If your house is your family, then this a room of quintuplets."

Sarah gave a nod, saying, "What has happened here will never leave this room."

Naomi and Jessica- the sixth year girl prefect- burst in. "What happened? I thought I told y'all to go to bed." Naomi told them, hands on her hips.

"Victoria just had a nightmare. We'll be going back to bed now."

They all went back to bed, and Naomi and Jessica left them alone.

Just before they went back to sleep, Victoria said, quietly, so even if Naomi and Jessica had their ears to the door they wouldn't be able to hear it.

"You know, I like having sisters."

And they all smiled.

Me too.

Chapter Text

Nicolai di Angelo woke up at 6:00 AM on the dot. He always did, due to intense training and gradually making himself get up ten minutes earlier every day for a fortnight before he could get up at the right time. In the Underworld during the summer, his father always had things for him to do, and it was no short chore list. Nico assisted his father in almost everything, except dressing, of course. He had servants for that. He accompanied his father everywhere, Hades knowing and telling Nico that the Ghost King title made him King of Ghosts just as Hades was King of the Underworld. It made him a god. This meant that Nico had to be ready to take up full godhood when he felt the time was right, just as Hades, Poseidon, and Zeus had done themselves. They lived among the mortals, who were ignorant of the godlings who walked among them, until they got the feeling that it was time for them to ascend.

Nico had decided to live out the remainder of his mortal life in Hecate's pet world; while it was just as dangerous as the godly world, at least there he could practice his powers without having to be in Hell or a place where everyone would turn and stare. They did the same thing in the wizarding world, but there there were more people on the same boat as you: suddenly boosted in social status and unable to get away from the cacanophy that was their new popularity. The upper years would take them aside and tell them of a place where they would train. The Room of Requirement was a blessing to all. When they felt ready, they went off into the Forbidden Forest alone. They came back with a spoil of war and stories to tell of the night they spent in the Forest with all the baddies. Once you passed the forest test, they sent you to Camp Half-Blood or Camp Jupiter, depending on your parent. You trained at school with your kind- Greek or Roman- in the way they would expect you to fight at the respective camps.

Nico valued, also, that each and every demigod at Hogwarts was smart, too. They knew things that they would never be able to learn at camp.

But that whole spiel was beyond the point. Nico woke up at 6:00. he got dressed and went about his morning ritual of waking up the others in his dorm. First was Franz, because he took forever to actually get up. You could wake him up by setting his bed on fire and blowing an airhorn in his ear and he still wouldn't actually be awake until 15 minutes later. He then woke up Jamie, because he was a really light sleeper and wouldn't punch Nico in the face for waking him up. Then he went on to Calder, who was a bit harder, but not that much so. A little bit more shaking of the shoulder, nothing too drastic. Finally was Richard. Rich got up really fast, but he was a heavier sleeper than Percy, Nico's cousin was. It took all four of his dorm-mates to wake up Rich.

At 7:25, Nico and his roommates would leave their dorm, hang something on the door so that when the rooms started spinning later in the day while no-one was here, they would come back and know which room was theirs- the third-year dorms were the reference point for all the other dorms, three to the left or two to the right or something similar.

As usual, at 7:30, the entire Ravenclaw house went down to breakfast together. Nico would take exactly 25 minutes to eat and then he would pick up his bag and read The Hobbit- his favorite book at the moment, for exactly 9 minutes, after which he would Shadow-Travel to his first class, Potions. For reasons unknown to anyone save Snape, the professor didn't hate Ravenclaws. At least, he didn't hate them as much as he hated Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs. He didn't take away as many points from them as he did others, which was fine by Nico and the other Ravenclaws.

Then, at exactly 9:50, the bell rang and Nico went to his next class, this time walking. The Ravenclaw 3rd-year boys went together to Ancient Runes, which they had all chosen as an elective. Professor Babbling was a nice woman, but she talked too much about obscure things most people wouldn't understand and less time teaching, which Nico and the others were fine with. Ancient Runes was just another name for Ancient Greek and Latin class, which they all knew. The entirety of the second-period Ancient Runes class were Greek or Roman demigods, which was, no doubt, the teachers' doing.

At 10:55, Nico took Jamie by the shoulder and Shadow-Travelled them both to Care of Magical creatures with Professor Kettleburn. Professor Kettleburn loved demigods to no end. They were his favorite kind of people: the kind who weren't quite fully human. He gave them extra points in class for doing little things like remembering where the faeries lived. The upper year demigods said that you could tell if you were a demigod before you were claimed if Professor Kettleburn liked you. He would ask you over for tea in his office with other demigods- whether they knew or not didn't matter- and that's how you would spend your time after dinner.

At 12:00 noon, Nico would take Jamie's shoulder again and take them both to lunch, where they would rejoin the rest of their house. Hermione would smile at Nico as he entered the Great Hall, and most of the time he would smile back. He always felt a bit hot in the cheeks for that, because while others would smile at him out of respect or fear, Hermione did it out of friendship. And his friends, who normally smiled at him out of hilarity or something of the sort, Hermione did it out of kindness. She had only just met him a month ago, and she acted like he was one of the most important people in the world.

But Nico was afraid of that. The last people who acted like that were his mother, Bianca- both of whom were dead, then Hazel and Percy, who he barely saw anyway. That's why he didn't really get close to many people. When you get close to someone and they die, it hurts. A lot. Not literally, of course, but on the inside. Nico had never liked that feeling of helplessness that went with grief.

Nico would eat lunch in exactly 40 minutes and spend the last 20 minutes of lunchtime reading his book. At 1:00 he would put his book down and go to the library, where he did his homework and managed the study group every other day at first break. Talk with Hermione about some obscure way that muggle history affected magical happenings or the other way around. Walk Harry to his next class and discuss random things like whether or not earthquakes were caused by the snores of hibernating dragons, deep beneath the earth (despite the fact that very few dragons hibernated underground, it was more likely for them to be in a cave near the top of a mountain or something). On the off days, he would study by himself for his worst subject- Herbology. He understood the theory perfectly, but he was failing because he killed many of the plants with a single touch. He was working on controlling his powers, and now only killed the plants half the time.

After his free period, Nico would, at 2:05 PM, go off to Divination in the stifling hot tower the teacher probably hadn't left in however long she'd been teaching. Professor Trelawney was a smart woman, and most people didn't see that. Sure, she was a bit screwy, but that didn't mean she didn't have a brain. She just didn't use it all the time. She was normally very definitely insane, but on her off time, she could hold amazingly intelligent conversation. Not to mention the fact that she'd taken a shine to Nico because she was "so interested in seeing how his future played out".

At 3:10 PM, Nico went off to Transfiguration, which wasn't his best subject, but not his worst either. The teacher held some sort of indifference to him, like she did to all her students. But Nico did his work quickly, quietly, and well, which was how to get by in school. All in all, Transfiguration was mostly boring, except when someone accidentally turned someone else into a rat or something.

At 4:15 PM, Nico walked with his friends to Defense Against the Dark Arts, which had the only teacher that Nico genuinely disliked. Professor Quirrell literally reeked of death and destruction, but it wasn't on his soul... the whole thing was rather perplexing, honestly. It was as if the man had two souls in one body, one blacker than sin and the other more of a middling grey. Nico had read about this happening before, in the libraries of the Underworld, but then the souls would fight for dominance and control over the body, always and forever. That didn't seem to be happening for Professor Quirrell and his parasite: It was as if they were cohabitating, waiting for something or another. It confused him, but didn't ask his father for help. He could've, but he wanted to prove to his father that he could handle the situation by himself- no godly assistance required. Quirrell seemed to be afraid of Nico, which was probably why he had never gotten a bad grade in the class. He had even been given full marks on an essay he had been too ill to care about (he had the flu, and had insisted that it was just allergies and refused to go to Madame Pomfrey), whereupon he had simply written, very neatly, his name, class period, and the date in the upper right-hand corner of a piece of parchment before scrawling messily the word NO in big letters across the page.

At precisely 5:20 PM, Nico goes back to Ravenclaw Tower to put away his things and read for a little while before going downstairs to eat dinner at 5:40, 20 minutes after dinner had started. This was normal for him, though. At breakfast and lunch, he sat with Calder, Rich, Jamie, and Franz. At dinner, he sat with Draco, Hermione, Neville, Seamus, Marie, Keixy, Victoria, Terry, Tony, and Sarah, though Sarah normally tried to sit as far away from him as possible.

At 7:45, when dinner ended, he and the rest of his house would walk together to the common room, where they would disperse to do their own things. Nico would talk with his dorm-mates as he did his homework. At 10:35 PM, He and the others in his dorm would go to the door with their memento on it from that morning, where all their things were, and they would get in their pyjamas and go to sleep.

At least, that's how Nico's day normally went.

Nico's day went normally up until study group during free period. Everything had gone smoothly, without a hitch up until Ron Weasley decided to drop in. He was a disgusting boy, with dirt on his nose that had been there since the start of the year and food all down his front. Ronald Weasley had come with a purpose, and Nico could tell that he wouldn't leave until something had been done about it. Ron walked up to Harry, who shyed away from the shorter boy who towered over him, seeing as Harry was sitting down.

"Hey, Potter." he said, spit flying from his mouth as he spoke. "Why don't you ditch these losers and come hang out with a better crowd?" He tossed his head back, gesturing towards a band of Gryffindors who had come with him. "We might even be able to get you re-Sorted into Gryffindor. The house of heroes, not nerds like this."

Harry made a sound as he tried to think of a polite way to tell Ron to go die in a hole with the rest of his cronies, but Hermione beat him to it. "You're that foul boy who had his minions beat up Seamus a few months ago. Why on earth would Harry want to 'hang out' with the likes of you? Bullies and arrogant arsewipes."

Ron seemed to bristle with anger at Hermione's comment. he looked her over, as if judging her resale value. "You're kind of pretty, so I'd be willing to forgive and forget that last comment if you'll go out with me."

Hermione was taken aback by his blatant disregard of the fact that she was more than a consolation prize for an insult. She backhanded him across the face and sent him reeling into the nearest bookcase, which was too heavy for him to knock down. Ron put a hand up to his face, checking for blood. When he found none, he looked up at Hermione angrily.

"Why you little kneazle! I'll teach you!" he yelled, but as he was going for her, he was knocked back by a swift double punch to the face from two different people.

Sarah on one side, who had just been given even more proof that boys were the most foul creatures to walk the earth. On the other side was Nico. While he was bony, he knew that the sharp angles of his musculature made for poor force but caused pain like nothing else. Sarah, Hermione could understand, but Nico, who had been on the other side of the table and had just appeared in front of Ron to stop his advance, Hermione had no idea. She watched as Ron was dragged away by Lavender Brown and Pavarti Patil, two girls who almost never left his side. Sarah, however, grabbed Ron's shirt collar and pulled his face dangerously close to her own.

"You better not tell anyone about this Weasley. Let me tell you something: Castrated gingers tell no tales. You know why?"

Ron whimpered as his only response.

"Because they're too busy crying for mummy because of other injuries, worse than losing your shriveled little family jewel box. Capisce?"

Ron nodded. Sarah looked at the rest of the Gryffindors. "The same goes for you, as well. Got that?"

They all nodded as they scurried off like rats from a sinking ship.

Hermione pulled her two saviors in close, a one-armed hug for each of them. Sarah looked immensely satisfied that she had finally gotten to punch someone, while Nico just turned redder than a beet from the physical contact. Harry looked at his watch, exclaiming at the time. "It's almost time for our next class! We have to go!" he and the others jumped to their feet, stuffing half-finished essays into bookbags and stoppering inkwells before bolting.

"Hermione, you coming?" Marie asked her friend.

"I'll catch up with you in a minute. Go on ahead." Hermione replied.

Marie turned around and ran after the others.

Hermione turned back to Nico. He was still red, and didn't know what to do when Hermione grabbed his head, pulled it down, and kissed him on the cheek. His entire face must've glowed, from all the blood rushing to it from the rest of his body and turning his face red. "Thank you, Nico. I hope that never happens again." But, as she turned away, he caught her arm and kissed her cheek back.

'You're welcome, and I hope so, too."

None of Nico's friends knew what to think when he showed up for Divination grinning like a madman, but Professor Trelawney seemed to know something the rest of them didn't, patting Nico on the back and asking why his cheeks were so pink. He didn't answer, just turned redder and buried his face in his hands.

At dinner, Hermione came to the table with a thick book she'd just gotten from the library.

Their merry band of misfits met in the Entrance Hall after they had finished eating a whole 20 minutes ahead of schedule for Nico. After Nico had told them his strange feeling when around Quirrell and Harry had said that he got it to some extent too and that Hagrid had taken something or other out of a vault in Gringotts, the entire group became wary around the professor.

Hermione and the others sat on the floor in the Entrance Hall, with the book out in front of Hermione. Her grey eyes met no-one elses as she looked for a certain page. After a few seconds, she found it. She turned the book to the rest of them, who were in a circle. She pointed a finger to one particular passage, with the heading bolded.

The Philosopher's Stone

Able to grant eternal life to whoever drank the Elixir of Life that it produced. Probably a really good way for Voldemort to come back. Hermione explained her theory of how she believed that's exactly what was happening: the parasite Nico sensed on Quirrell was a part of Voldemort himself, and Quirrell was helping Voldemort come back to life again as more than just the back of a head. The other professors, who, from what upper-years had told them, were acting more protective of something and that something was in the forbidden 3rd-floor corridor. And that something was the Philosopher's Stone, created by Nicholas Flamel years and years before.

"I think we should go take a look." Draco said.

Marie and Vic nodded. When all the others agreed, Terry shook his head.

"Did any of you think that maybe the third-floor corridor is forbidden for a reason? There's probably more than just a wooden door protecting the key to eternal life, don't you think? And besides, you've already gotten points taken away for all of you going to look at the Mirror of Pothos in the middle of the night- No more. I will not let you get even more points taken away . This is the first time in years that Ravenclaw has a chance at the House Cup." Terry said, with all sincerity.

"Terry, this isn't about the House Cup. If this is Voldemort coming back, we need to stop him or delay him for as long as we can, no matter how many house points we lose. We just want to do the world a favor here." Tony said, arguing with his brother-friend was hard. He didn't like it. Tony grabbed Terry's arm. "If you don't want to come with us, we won't make you. Just know that it'll be better for us all if there's more of us to back up the story. Think about this for a minute. I don't want to leave you behind, Terry, but I will if it comes down to it."

Terry's eyes started to water, only slightly. He wrenched his arm from Tony's grip- which they all knew to be quite strong, and turned his back before tossing one final comment over his shoulder. "I'm not coming with you, but I'm not going to stop you."

And with that, Terry walked off to Colin and Naomi, who were backing the train of Ravenclaws off to the common room. Tony's arm stayed in the air for a minute, watching his best friend's back as he left them all behind, before his hand fell limply to his side and he looked down.

A single tear, small and shining, rolled down his cheek before falling to the cobbled floor.

Chapter Text

Hermione stood on a hill. A crescent moon hung high in the sky, but she saw everything as though it was daytime. A giant pine tree stood lonely at the top, something gold sparkling merrily on its lower branches. A huge green serpent of some kind wrapped around the base, smoke curling up from it's nostrils that would be easily capable of snorting smoke at a moment's notice. Hermione noted absently that it was a wyvern from Greece, often called drakons.

In the distance, she saw a large sky blue barn house and strawberry fields. A glimmering lake sat not far away from the farmhouse, and a stream, widening into a river, connected the lake to the Sound.

Twelve houses were nestled cozily in the left center part of the valley. One glowed a noble silver in the light of the full moon, one seemed to be a pale gold. One was giant and White Marble. One looked like a run down, weather-beaten cabin that would've been better placed in a deserting clearing deep in the woods.. One was splashed with red paint and a head of a boar on it. One was bright pink, which made Hermione cringe. She thought it might look better if it was a pale blue, maybe even a soft lilac.

But one house in particular caught her eye. It was a light grey color, and an owl weathervane atop the whole thing, which had probably just sprung into existence on the roof. It had a golden number 6 on the front, which faced her. She felt a tiny pull, as though the cabin was calling her. But almost as soon as she felt it, it disappeared.

The scene suddenly changed.

She again stood on a hill, like the last, but this place was at sunset. Down in the valley, a river formed the letter G before emptying into a lake.

This one was different than the last. This had a city. A gate, and no tree. Large houses, which vaguely reminded Hermione of temples, dotted a field off to her left in a lose Omega symbol.

One, a grey one with the best architecture of them all, pulled at her with stronger force than that house. This one was not the biggest of all, but bigger than one that sorta reminded her of Nico: mystical, dark, and a little sad.

Her cheeks started to heat up at the thought of Nico. His coal-black hair and obsidian eyes, marble skin and elven features like something out of J.R.R. Tolkien. His tantalizing darkness was something to behold. He was still only thirteen.

Why had she kissed him? Spur-of-the-moment things like that were never the best things for her, even if it was only on the cheek.

The scene changed for the third time.

She was back on the first hill. Two armies, one in a haphazard formation and one in precise and practiced rows and columns. The defending side, on the inside of the camp, wore a brutal and violent orange. The offending side wore a dark, deadly amethyst that gave soft promises of strength and power, health and good fortune before slipping a knife into your heart.

Vaguely, Hermione recognized the colors as t-shirts that Naomi had told her to run from until she had been confirmed as a demigod- which was still entirely possible. She had described them as the camp shirts of the two Greco-Roman demigod camps.

One girl, the apparent leader of the Greeks, stepped out from her group. Her shoulder-length red-brown hair was held out of her face by an orange bandanna with writing on it in a language Hermione didn't understand. It was probably Ancient Greek. She was tall and buff, and looked ready to fight at any time, should the other side attack.

The 'other side' were obviously the Romans. While the Greeks stood in haphazard formation, the Romans stood in a basic wedge battle formation. The wedge formation was specifically designed to break through enemy lines; The Children of Rome had planned this thoroughly.

The Roman leader was also a girl, something which Hermione imagined would've pleased Sarah greatly. She was very different from the girl who stood opposite her. The Roman girl was a Hispanic girl with a black braid over one shoulder. Brown eyes blazed with fury behind a layer of cool collectiveness, not entirely unlike a diplomat's. She wore golden battle armor over a purple t-shirt with gold Latin lettering -Senatus Populusque Romanus, The Senate and People of Rome- and dark-wash jeans that were probably thinner than they looked. She wore a purple cloak that Hermione guessed signified her status as praetor. This confused Hermione: There were supposed to be 2 praetors, not just 1.

"Why have you come here, βρώμικο εισβολείς?" said the Greek girl.

"For recompense." replied her Roman counterpart. She had a heavy Hispanic accent

"What the fuck do you mean by that?" asked the Greek girl.

"Your warship, the Argo Two, fired on New Rome. We have come to return the favor. Surrender now, and we will only kill as many of you as your precious warship did ours." The Roman girl's voice barely held back tears of anger.

"And how many was that, Princess? Ten? Twenty?" Greek mocked, noticing roman's distress.

"Try fifty-seven. Veterans of the Legion, those who had families and jobs, members of the New Rome community. Even if the Seven return, they will be tried as war criminals; Our own, Percy, Trix, Nico, and Leo will be charged with treason. The other ones, murder and blatant disrespect of authority. They were guests, and they abused the privileges it gave them. They were welcomed, and they repaid us in blood."

"So what? A few people died. Why does that warrant war?"

"One of yours killed many of ours. We have come so you can repay the debt. This is your last chance to surrender. If you do not, we will not hesitate to cut down every last one of you."

The Greek just spat at the Roman's feet. "Very well. You have decided your fate. We'll give you thirty minutes. Then, let there be bloodshed."

The scene changed yet again. It was apparently half-an-hour later, because both armies were assembled. Hermione even thought she saw herself, a bit older than the was now, behind an ethereal golden helmet, standing not too far behind the praetor. "Reyna, at your command." said the blonde teen who probably had too much power. He stood beside the praetor, who was apparently named Reyna. She signaled to the boy beside her, who Hermione vaguely recognised as Harry, to raise the banner he held, a Roman war banner with a golden eagle perched on top with it's wings spread. Hermione went to stop the violence, to cast a calming charm over them all, but when she reached for her wand, she found only a golden dagger, about a foot long, in it's place at Hermione's hip.

Reyna lifted her sword to the sky, her winged charger pawing at the ground impatiently. She opened her mouth to yell, "CHARGE!"

Just then, Hermione Granger rocketed up in bed, safe in Ravenclaw Tower, yelling "No!"

Her room-mates were by her side in less than an instant. Only Victoria knew what was going on.

Hermione had just gotten her first demigod dream, and no-one was sure what to think about it. Not even Naomi or Jessica, who had come when they heard her (For some reason screams in the night were common among Ravenclaw Firsties). Having a demigod dream was equivalent to the gods acknowledging your existence, but they only sent them if they needed to say something important.

Vic, who got her first one the week before she and her sister were taken by Child Services, was absolutely rubbish at interpreting the dreams. But she did know someone who was. She went to get them.

Three minutes later, She had returned with Colin, their fifth-year male prefect. He knelt next to Hermione's bed, where she sat trembling.

"Tell me what happened, Hermione. No need to rush." he said, his voice calming.

"There were two different camps, the demigod camps, and then there were armies, two of them, one in orange, one in purple. They were on top of a hill, and the hill had a pine tree on it, and the pine tree had a gold thing in the branches. There was a camp on one side of the hill, the orange side." Hermione said as slowly as she could, trying to calm her racing heart.

"That was Camp Half-Blood, the camp for Greek demigods like myself." Colin said, still trying to slow her down.

"The Greek leader talked to the Roman leader. They talked about the Seven and New Rome and revenge for deaths caused by the Seven in New Rome."

Colin's breath hitched. "The Prophecy of Seven. But that's too soon... the last prophecy... It was only just fulfilled..."

"What prophecy?" Hermione asked.

"Never you mind. Push it from your head. You girls go back to sleep."

Colin walked off and explained the whole thing to Simon, who had also come. Hermione heard a snippet of their conversation from her bed nearest the door.

"...will you do? This is huge, both camps need to know." Colin asked. Naturally, he had to ask Simon, who was his superior. "Tell Chiron and Lupa?"

There was a moment of silence while Simon thought. "No, we can't risk being overheard by a camper. We'll tell the other Prefects at the next meeting." he eventually answered. "I'll inform Tonks in the morning that we need a meeting. Go back to bed, the lot of you."

Goodnights were exchanged between the Prefects, and they went off to their various dormitories.

Hermione and the other girls did eventually fall asleep again, but Hermione just couldn't push it from her mind. Why on earth would the Greeks fire on the Romans? There was only slight animosity between the two here at Hogwarts, and that only extended to a competitiveness that was normal between students.

Nico saw her troubled face as he went to sit with his roommates th next morning at breakfast. "Should I assume that it was you who screamed last night?" he said casually, standing behind her.

"First demigod dream. It wasn't pleasant." Hermione scowled into her cereal bowl.

"Ah. Bad memory? Bad omens in general?"

"Try war between the camps." She stabbed a Cheerio with her spoon, watching it resurface in two pieces a second later.

"Do I want to know?"

"No, you don't."

They left it at that.

That night, Draco, Hermione, Neville, Dean, Seamus, Tony, and Harry all met in front of the door to the Forbidden 3rd-floor corridor.

"Are we ready for this? Whatever's behind that door, we need to be ready." Neville said.

All in the group nodded their heads, the demigods shifting whatever weapons they'd gotten in training to a readier grip. Seamus and Dean, who were not demigods as far as anyone knew, had been lent swords for the duration of this mission.

Hermione sent a nervous glance over at Tony, who stared blankly at the floor. Terry's words and actions yesterday had done a number on the first-year. Not to mention the fact that Terry had ignored Tony all day. Tony looked hollow and empty, as if half of him had gone. Terry must have been feeling the same, but he was excellent at hiding it. Tony was a terrible actor. His movements were sluggish, his eyes dull, his sword limp in his hand and scraping the ground.

Nico went first, putting one hand on the doorknob. He carefully opened it, letting the harp music creep out of the room. It was soft and lilting, with what sounded like a calming charm on the instrument. Nico went into the room first, and then beckoned the rest of them in. For those who hadn't come at at Christmas, the Cerberus in the room was a sight to see: Three heads, all snoozing happily.

As soon as the door closed behind Harry, the last to come in, the harp music stopped.

The Cerberus started waking up. Everyone started to panic: Everyone except Nico and Harry. They reached into their bags, pulling out red rubber balls that were too big to normally fit into the schoolbags. Nico and Harry both walked calmly up to the Cerberus, neither showing any emotion. Nico held out the toy he was holding, and he threw it to the other side of the room, behind the dog. The dog's three heads all whipped backwards at once, all six eyes following the ball's trajectory. The Cerberus barked happily and bounded off after the toy.

Nico quickly ran over to the trapdoor the Cerberus was guarding. He threw it open and counted people off as they jumped through the hatch. Hermione sat on the edge, watching Nico and Harry. Nico ran back to Harry, who was still holding two balls. The Cerberus's three heads had stopped arguing over the ball, leaving it to the head on the far left. Harry now showed emotion in the form of fear as the Cerberus came bounding back, each of the remaining heads looking for a toy of their own.

Harry looked like he was about to faint. Nico reassured him.

"You can do this, Harry. You are a child of the Underworld, a Cerberus won't harm you! Just throw the balls, and we'll be off. Quickly, you can do this! I believe in you!"

Harry took a deep breath for confidence, and let it out before throwing the remaining balls to the other end of the room with surprising force for a boy so thin. "Fluffy, fetch!"

Nico smiled at him, a once-in-a-blue-moon true smile with perfect white teeth, and then shoved Harry towards the hatch before following. Harry jumped down into the pit, Hermione at his heels (figuratively speaking: they were going down, she was at his head, if anything), and Nico last. He pulled the hatch closed behind him, leaving the entire group in darkness.

Chapter Text

As the last three of the group fell into the abyss, they could hear better and better the angry and scared yells of the rest of their motley crew. All of the sudden, Hermione, Harry, and Nico stopped falling as they struck something slimy and just all-around disgusting. Tendrils of the whatever-it-was wrapped around them. Everyone fought their bonds as if their lives depended on it, which it probably did. Harry, who was the son of a plant-based goddess, said what it was very calmly.

"It's a Devil's Snare. Normally, it would eat you, but I don't think they would've put something like that in a school. It's probably been trained not to actually eat anyone, which I can tell it's very disappointed about. I can also tell you that it doesn't go too deep, I lost a shoe already and I can feel the air coming through from the next room. Just squirm around and stuff. You'll go through faster if you panic." Just then, Tony, who had been the first through the hatch, was pulled down into the plant.

Sure enough, they could hear him strike the floor underneath them, and he called up to them "Harry's right! There's another room! I can hear something on the other side of the door."

Draco fell through next, then Seamus, then Victoria who was fighting the plant tooth and nail, then Neville, then Dean, Harry, Hermione, and finally Nico. Nico pulled all the shadows away from the walls and the corners, concentrating it all into a little ball no bigger than his fist. He sent the ball flying at the door, which, for all the force put behind the throw, swung open slow as you please, as if someone was opening it from behind and didn't want to scrape the door over their shoes.

On the other side of the door, there was a strange assortment of birds, each of them a different color from the others, like so many priceless gems on wings. "What beautiful birds." Hermione said.

"Valuable birds, probably." Seamus tossed at her.

"Those aren't birds," Draco said, speaking for the first time in what seemed like forever. "They're keys. Winged, flying, keys."

"But we can just magik open the door, right Nico?" Dean spoke at long last.

Nico had gone over to the door on the other side of the room, examining the lock as if he was a professional in the art. "No, there are enchantments so you can only open it with the correct key. I'd be willing to bet that one of these flying keys will unlock this door, which will lead us into the next room."

But there are so many of them, how do we know which one it is?" Tony spoke up in the back.

"Well, I'd wager it's old, or at least old-looking, like the lock. And, assuming someone else has already gotten it, the wings will probably be crumpled a bit too. It will be flying slower than the others, possibly lower, as well." Nico answered him. Nico had, due to his father's affinity with metals, essentially detected and connected the key to the lock mentally, but decided to let the small children do the looking. It shouldn't take very long.

The entire group looked up at the keys. Each was looking to find it before anyone else, only out of a childish competitiveness.

While everyone else had been looking for the key, Nico was looking around at the room. It was old, like the rest of the castle, but it thrummed with an energy Nico hadn't felt since he was last in the Underworld. There was magic, deep beneath him and somewhere to the southwest. It was what some would call 'Dark Magic'. The Underworld enchantments could've only been worked by a child or legacy of Hades. But this magic was old, and it had only been broken once so far, if what Nico's senses told him were true.

The room had a vaulted ceiling, with stone beams criss-crossing the higher parts to keep the ceiling from crashing down and making a terrible noise as well as a gigantic mess.

After a few minutes of everyone but Nico looking, Harry, who had keen eyes, pointed at one of the keys. It was flying about halfway to the ceiling, and one of it's wings was crumpled.

Nico, not at all trusting the rickety old broom by the door for anyone, even himself with his Chaser skills, to ride, and not wanting to use the time, shot a tendril of shadows at the key to retrieve it. He was also closest to the door, so it was he who shoved the key into the keyhole. He twisted the key around by it's handle, and pushed the door open.

On the other side of the door was a chess set.

Nico quickly assessed the room. The chess set was giant: a pawn was as tall as Nico himself was. Every other piece was at least twice that size. At least, they would've been if they were all intact.

The entire black side of the board was utterly demolished, even the king. Nico walked forward, to assess the damage done to the pieces, but Neville yelled that he saw the door. He led the others in the direction of the door, but as soon as they stepped foot on the board, which was the quicker alternative to going around the board, the chunks of chess pieces picked themselves up and reassembled themselves. There were still white pieces missing, though: The queen, the queenside knight, the queenside rook, the kingside bishop, the kingside knight, and four pawns. Nico was quick to divvy up who was going to play as who on the chessboard.

Out of respect for Hermione and the fact that she was the more assertive girl, she was the Queen.

Nico himself would be the Queenside Knight.

Victoria would be the Queenside Rook.

Tony would be the Kingside Bishop.

Draco would be the Kingside Knight.

Neville, Seamus, Dean, and Harry would all be pawns.

Everyone took their places. Nico called out, across the board to his friends, "Remember, just do as you're told. Even if you don't move at all."

A chorus of seven "Okay"s came across back to him. White moves first.

Nico quickly started playing. This game's length hinged on the enchanted black pieces making just the right moves. Nico knew he could win, but he didn't care for a long game at the time. They had things to do.

"Seamus, move to e4." Seamus looked a bit confused. He didn't normally join in the Ravenclaw chess tournaments that would often last several days. Nico sighed. This would be easier if people knew which square was which. "Move two spaces in front of you." Nico rephrased.

Seamus went forward two squares. Nico looked over at Hermione. She didn't get it yet.

Thankfully, the chessboard was Professor McGonagall's challenge, and it had her same tendency of wanting to take first blood. Nico, in his boredom during Transfiguration, had played many a game of chess with the Professor, and noticed that she would always take initiative and go for first blood.

A black pawn moved to f5. The piece was moving to take Seamus, just as Nico had expected. Professor McGonagall was left handed, so she would've moved the piece on the left to take Seamus, not the one on the right that could've both accomplished the same, capturing Seamus, and ruining Nico's plan.

Nico grinned. Hermione noticed, and was seemingly at a loss as to why he was smiling like a fool when Seamus was about to be killed by enchanted statuary.

"Hermione, h5." he said, still grinning like a madman.

Hermione did as she was told, and her eyes lit up as she seemed to only then realize what Nico had done.

"Checkmate!" Nico called out, and the black king's sword fell from his hands. Seamus, who had been preparing himself for certain death, let out a breath and opened his visible eye. Nico had thought of getting him some ambrosia to fix his eye, but he wasn't sure if Seamus was a demigod.

The rest of them came together into a group, and they all clapped Nico on the back. All except Hermione. She slapped him.

"Nikodemos di Angelo, you self-important bastard! Seamus' life hinged on the assumption that one black piece would move to that exact spot. What would've happened if the piece on the other side was the one that moved? What would you have done then? Let it take Seamus, or have Seamus take it and ruin your silly little Foolsmate? That was just to demonstrate some kind of mental superiority over the rest of us. We didn't vote anyone as the leader of this team, even if it worked in the end." she took a heavy breath.

"I had complete faith in the fact that the exact piece would move. I have played many games of chess against Professor McGonagall, who set up this challenge. It was designed to be beaten by force, not by smarts. Professor McGonagall is left-handed, so she would obviously move the piece on the left to go for the kill. It has been proven that when things are enchanted to act on their own, they act like the person who enchanted them." Nico responded evenly.

"How did you know the piece would move in for the kill?" Hermione was looking for every flaw in his precious plans.

"Because McGonagall always goes for first blood. I thought this through. I've used this tactic on her before. She never saw it coming. I knew it would work, Hermione, because it's been done before! I was only trying to get through this as fast as possible. If Seamus had been injured, because McGonagall would never put something in to kill someone, we could've staunched whatever bleeding, and left him here with someone to make sure he didn't die. On the way back, we would've gotten him and taken him to the infirmary." Nico betrayed no emotion in his voice.

"And what makes you think we'll all get through this?" Hermione's temper was rising again.

"I don't count on it, actually. I estimate that at least one of us will break something important, and one of us might die. I have planned for every eventuality, even sending a letter to professor McGonagall, to arrive for her in the morning post if we don't come back. I have planned that for if none of us come out of this, and I have plans on how to deal with it if all but one of us dies, I have plans for every possible combination of losses. I have made a plan, and I will stick to it." the shadows seemed to grow out from the corners of the rooms.

Everyone, even Hermione, was shocked into silence. The fact that Nico, the ultimate planner of everything under the sun, had bargained on at least one of them dying, that was jarring. He didn't think they would all make it out.

He then shocked everyone again by hugging Hermione.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell any of you, and I'm sorry I made you angry. I'll try not to do it again." He turned and hugged Seamus, too. "I'm sorry I endangered your life. I should've at least told you. I just wanted to get through this a quick as possible."

He pulled away from them. He turned and led them toward the door. He hoped that no-one would notice the kiss he left on Hermione's cheek. Her massive blush, though, would probably give it away. He smiled slightly at her. She smiled slightly back, then remembered she was supposed to be angry at him.

Nico led the group to the other side of the room. Hermione sped up to walk right beside him. She pulled him into a hug herself, because she hadn't returned it earlier, and then gave him a kiss on the cheek, just like he had done to her.

Everyone noticed.

And there, on there way to death, they all laughed.

Chapter Text

Harry Potter was dumbfounded. There, on the back of the head of a man he had been in company with for the better part of a year, was some disfigured and parasitic part of the very same man who had killed Harry's parents, Lily and James, ten years ago. Of course, all Harry remembered was his mother screaming, a stranger laughing, and a flash of green light. Harry was a little shocked, to say the least. The parasite that Nico had sensed on Quirrell: The parasite was Voldemort. The parasite was the most evil being to ever exist. Harry... well, Harry didn't exactly know what to think.

Upon entering the third floor corridor what seemed like ages ago, Harry had been ready for just about anything on the other side of every door. He had been ready to see anyone from Dumbledore to Harry's Uncle Vernon at the end of this escapade, but he had been entirely and completely surprised to find Professor Quirrell, despite suspecting it was, or was even most likely, him. Quirrell had been placed in a position of trust, to look after and teach the next generation of the world they knew. And he had betrayed that trust.

Harry's friends, Hermione, Draco, Neville, Tony, Seamus, Dean, Vic. His brother, his very best friend in the whole wide world and all others beyond it, Nico. They were all showing the same emotions that Harry felt. Betrayal, anger, a hint of confusion.

"Now, Potter, how do I get the Philosopher's Stone? Tell me, or I will torture your friends!" Quirrell shouted.

Harry shook his head, black hair falling over his eyes. He figured that somehow, the Philosopher's Stone had been bound to the Mirror of Pothos, more commonly known as the Mirror of Erised. Harry knew from his own misadventure with the enchanted mirror that it showed you whatever you wanted most, deep in your heart of hearts. Harry just wanted things to be normal. He wanted to learn about magic, go to Camp in the summer, be a relatively normal kid. No fame because his parents were killed but he wasn't. No adoring fans in Ron Weasley or the basic entirety of Gryffindor house because he had been orphaned by a psycho serial killer. Just Harry Potter, son of James Potter and the goddess Proserpina occasionally hijacking the body of Lily Evans. Hufflepuff wizard-in-training, brother to the coolest gods-be-damned guy in the world.

"I'll have you know, Potter, that I am not a patient man." That was a bit untrue, after all he had just waited the better part of a year to get a glorified rock. "Tell me how to get the Stone. I know you know you how to get it, Dumbledore would've made sure of it." Quirrell said.

Harry, though, didn't know how to get the Stone unbound from the Mirror. He had only ever spoken to Dumbledore once, after all, and it had been a very short conversation. They spoke for maybe five minutes at the start of the school year. As Nico had so eloquently put it, the "interfering old codger whose nose probably got broken from sticking it too far into other people's business" had asked Harry if he actually wanted to go to Hufflepuff or if he wished to go to Gryffindor instead. Harry only wanted to go to Hufflepuff out of sympathy for them, not because he actually belonged there. Harry belonged in Gryffindor, where all the light wizards went, not in Hufflepuff, where the useless footsoldiers went. Not to Ravenclaw, those only useful so that Gryffindors could go and do things other than homework. Not to Slytherin, where all the nasty, filthy, stinking cheats went. While the Sorting Hat had never made a mistake before, Dumbledore was willing to let Harry switch to a different house, just because he was the Boy-Who-Lived.

For a moment, Harry had almost believed him. Then, he remembered what one of the sixth-year prefects, Tonks, had told him after thumping him on the back, all of Hufflepuff screaming 'We got Potter!'. "The Sorting Hat compromises where you belong and where you want to go. It delves into the deepest, darkest parts of your mind and tells you where you should be. Then, you still have the choice to tell it No. it wanted to put me into Slytherin, because of my heritage and because of my impeccable disguises and cunning, but I told it to put me with the Badgers because we can get away with anything!" then she had laughed, and her hair flashed neon orange for a second.

The thought of Tonks had pulled Harry out of Dumbledore's beguiling words. He declined the Headmaster's offer, although he was, as Harry put it at the time, deeply honored that the Headmaster would give him a choice to switch houses.

In any case, the Headmaster had never told Harry how to get the Stone. He had obviously bound it to the Mirror of Pothos, an ancient artifact of a god that Dumbledore had no business tampering with. The Mirror showed whatever the person who looked into it wanted most.

"Perhaps a little incentive will jostle your memory, Potter." Quirrell said from across the room. He reached out and grabbed his nearest captive, Victoria. He pointed his wand at her where he had dragged her in front of him. "Crucio!"

Victoria screamed, intense agony written in letters plain across her face. She screamed until she was coughing up blood and so far past tears. Harry raced forward, but Quirrell turned his wand on Harry.

"Ah ah ah," he chided, "Come any closer and I'll kill them! Are you willing to tell me yet, Potter?"

"I don't know! I've only ever talked to Dumbledore once, and that was at the start of the year! I have no idea how to get the Stone for you!"

"Let's try someone else, then. Maybe this one will convince you?" he shot the curse at Seamus and Dean, each in turn. They did the same as Victoria did. Harry repeated his spiel about how he didn't know how to get the Stone.

Everyone was Crucio'd in due time. Victoria, Seamus, Dean, Nico, Neville, Draco, Tony. All except Hermione. Hermione was saved for last. Quirrell, or, rather, Voldemort, as he had long since turned his head 'round like an owl and started casting in a high, cold voice that could only ever have belonged to the Dark Lord. Pausing for an instant to smirk at Harry, and then at the unconscious captives on the smooth stone beneath their feet.

This, however, was the wrong move. Nico, who, as it seemed, had been biding his time and gathering his strength, suddenly was free of his bonds. Voldemort had, in that instant, given him the last bit of time he needed to gain power. He twisted his skull ring, turning it into his sword.

No-one in the group had ever seen Nico's sword before. He always trained with it when everyone else had left, letting no-one see how good he was with it or what the sword itself looked like. It was, though, a beautiful weapon. It was black, the glossy, obsidian black of Stygian Iron. It had a hilt of the same, with a silver skull with ruby eyes set as the pommel. It had a shining silver crossbar. Yes, it was beautiful, in the same way that Solanceae flowers were beautiful; Just as beautiful as they were poisonous. All in all, the sword was three and a half feet of instant death.

Nico took a wild swing at Voldemort, but he had already cast the curse on Hermione. Just in the nick of time, Nico's blade crossed through the air, the enchanted metal reflecting the curse at a wall. Voldemort pulled out his own sword, a standard celestial bronze sword, as if he hadn't taken the time to get a better one. It probably didn't even balance properly for him.

And so, the King of Ghosts and the Dark Lord battled, there, deep below a school for magic.

Harry's brain went into overdrive. He had to figure out how to get the Stone before Nico and Voldemort were done fighting.

Stone in Mirror.

Mirror shows what I want.

I want the Stone so that Quirrell won't have it.

Harry looked in the Mirror out of the corner of his eye. He saw his reflection do the same. His reflection smirked, although Harry himself didn't. Reflection-Harry lifted a glittering red stone from pocket to eye level. Harry's eyes widened. That stone was the Philosopher's Stone, Harry just knew it. The Reflection-Harry dropped the Stone into the pocket of his pants. Harry felt a weight in his pocket: The same pocket that Reflection-Harry had dropped the Stone into.

Harry stuck his hand inside his pocket. There it was, a lump of what looked like ruby, but radiated an ethereal quality. Harry grinned. He immediately ran over to his friends, where they all sat shaking and many of them not entirely conscious. He untied Victoria first, then Seamus, then Dean, Draco, Neville, and Tony. They all sat, shivering and on the verge of unconsciousness. He then went on to free Hermione, who clung to him as if he were her lifeline. The others were so disoriented, they wouldn't be fully responsive for hours, maybe days. Hermione was just in shock. She had almost been tortured over a rock. The others had been tortured over a rock.

A godsdamned, worthless, slightly shiny rock.

Meanwhile, Voldemort was losing ground to Nico. He had become a ball of rage, which was energy enough, apparently, to last him for days. He slashed, parried, ducked, rolled, stabbed, and cut all over, absolutely devastating Voldemort. While Voldemort's mind might've been a whiz at swordfighting, Quirrell had probably never handled a sword in his life. He was doing all the right things just a bit too slow, the host not having the muscle memory that the mind should've had.

All of the sudden, there was a burst of dark light. Nico had three, pale, slender fingers on Voldemort's head. One at each temple and one at the center of the forehead. All the shadows in the room made quick work of covering the walls, ceiling, and floor. Nico's eyes glowed murderous obsidian velvet against the pitch black of the room. A black light flowed out from Voldemort's eyes and mouth. Wisps of sickly green smoke floated from everywhere on Voldemort. His pale face disappeared from the back of Quirrell's head. The part of Voldemort's soul floated down into the ground, almost going beneath the cobbles of the floor before ghosting back up and being sucked into the jaws of the skull on the pommel of Nico's sword. The silver teeth snapped shut, and both Nico and Quirrel collapsed.

Harry, too, watched his vision blacken around the edges. He saw Hermione crumple to the ground, as well as the rest as exhaustion overtook them one by one. Harry vaguely recognised the face of Terry at the doorway to the room, with Professors Flitwick and McGonagall behind him. Harry put one hand into his pocket, and smiled, knowing the Stone was safe and out of the hands of evil.

Then, he fell unconscious and dreamed of nothing.

Chapter Text

Hermione woke up in the Hospital Wing. Out of them all, she had been the first to wake. She went and sat at Victoria's bedside. Vic had been the worst off out of all of them. She had been held under the Cruciatus curse for almost as long as Nico had been. But, unlike Nico, Vic had a very low pain register and had screamed herself hoarse for four and a half minutes. Hermione swept her thumb over the back of Vic's hand.

Hermione looked over to Nico. He looked so much younger when he slept. Nico had always looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, for reasons unknown to Hermione. He looked so much older than he should have, but in sleep he looked his own age. Although he acted much different, Nico was still only fourteen years old. His birthday was in the same month that term started, so he was included in that year.

Hermione brushed a stray lock of black hair behind his ear. His skin was so cold, so pale, but so smooth. She had never felt his skin before, except when she kissed him on the cheek...twice.

He had been held under the Cruciatus for over five minutes after Voldemort had realized that Nico being in pain had the most effect on Harry. And even though he had been held under torture for so long, he retained his sanity and used the last of his strength to save Hermione.

Hermione was flattered. It wasn't like she had a crush on him or anything, but she felt her face heat up at the thought. Nico could've waited until after she had been tortured to jump into action, but he didn't. When he saw her about to be cursed, he was like a ball of black-hot fury. Hermione saw how his eyes had burned, how his attacks held none of their usual coordination. She saw how angry he had been that someone had tried to hurt her. And she didn't know how to feel.

She gazed at his face for a second more, before realizing that someone was shaking her shoulder.

It was Terry. He looked miserable, and Hermione realized that he had been asleep with his head on the foot of Tony's bed when Hermione woke up. It was understandable that he had been there. Tony was Terry's best friend, some would go as far as to say brothers in all but blood.

"How long was I out for?" Hermione asked her friend.

"Only a few hours. It's currently," he glanced at his watch. "Three forty-seven in the morning, July the twenty-eighth, nineteen ninety-one. You and the others got here around midnight." Terry looked back at Tony, his eyes sorrowful. "What happened, down there, Hermione? What happened to you all?"

So Hermione told him. And Terry seemed to age ten years in the short span of time it took her to tell the whole story; The Cerberus, the Devil's Snare, the Winged Keys, The Giant Chess Set, the Potions Riddle, Nico Shadow-Travelling them all twice. The whole Voldemort fiasco, with the Cruciatus included in her rendition of the tale. Hermione didn't censor anything. She told him the cold, hard, facts. Nothing but the truth. The knowledge seemed to weigh down of Terry heavier than ignorance had, not fifteen minutes before.

Terry buried his face in his hands and sobbed. Hermione put her arm around his shoulders, which were shaking as he cried. He kept sobbing that he should've been here, he shouldn't have let them go without a prefect or something or at least him. Hermione tried to console him.

"Terry, you would've just gotten hurt too. Then you would be here, laying in one of these beds, not knowing if Tony was alive, or anything. I'm glad you weren't there. You would've gotten seriously injured, just like the rest of us."

"But, I should've been there."

"No, it was a good thing that you stayed here. Who else would've gotten Professors Flitwick and McGonagall? Who else would've known where we were if we weren't back by breakfast? Everyone else was bitter that you had stayed behind, but it was really the best thing you could've done in the situation. Dont' feel bad, Terry. You did a wonderful thing today... or, rather yesterday, wouldn't it be? That doesn't matter. Stop trying, you did your best, Terry."

He lifted his head from his hands, his eyes now red and puffy, their hazel irises clouded by tears. It was at times like these that Hermione remembered how young Terry was. In the same way that Nico had his birthday just before term started and Hermione had hers just after term started, Terry had his just after it ended. He was still only ten, and his best friend had been tortured. He didn't know how to deal with it. Hermione's instincts kicked in, and she pulled him into her shoulder. She brushed her fingers through her hair, acting like she imagined a big sister would. She'd never had siblings before coming to Hogwarts. She did her best in the situation.

On the other side of the room, Tony stirred. Terry lifted his head at the noise of sheets rustling, and was at his best friend's side before you could say 'Quidditch'.

"Tony?" Terry said, taking his friend's hand in between his own. Tony's hazel eyes flickered open. The first thing he saw, with his head tilted to his left, was his best friend who looked like he'd just been crying his eyes out ten seconds ago.

"Terry, why do you look like you were crying?" Tony asked, noting the tears still on Terry's cheeks. "Were you crying over me? Really, it's sweet, but they're your tears. Keep them off me." Tony said, his voice holding only concern for his friend and the humor in his joke.

Terry threw himself on Tony. Tears soaked the shoulder of the paper-thin hospital gown Tony was wearing. Tony didn't even look awkward for a second as he wrapped his arms around Terry's torso, patting his back and whispering "I'm alright" and "It's okay, I'm okay" over and over again until Terry had calmed down.

 Then the sadness in Terry's eyes was gone, and in no time at all he was chatting aimlessly about something. Hermione wasn't really paying attention to the boys anymore because Neville and Victoria were starting to wake up. They were next to each other, so Hermione went and sat between them, taking one hand each in her own. Victoria's eyes opened. Hermione smiled.

It was six thirty when Professors Flitwick, Sprout, and McGonagall came to check on them. Flitwick and Sprout because these were their own 'Puffs and 'Claws, and McGonagall because she just liked them.

The days passed. Three of them, to be exact, before Harry woke up. He and Nico were the only ones still asleep after three days, and the world spun on without them. Hermione, Neville, Draco, Dean, Seamus, Victoria, Terry, and Tony all went back to class. They waited three days for their friends in the infirmary to wake up, but only going there at second free period to visit them. Sure, their resident master swordsman and supervisor of the study group were gone, but that didn't mean they were going to skip out on training or study group.

Colin Devereux, the fifth-year Ravenclaw prefect, and his boyfriend Edric Simmons, a sixth-year Slytherin prefect, supervised in Nico's place, and Kathleen Rodgers of Gryffindor trained people in swords for three days , because it was after three days, just after dinner, that Nico woke up.

Hermione had been sitting in the Hospital Wing, doing a few revisions to Seamus' homework. He still couldn't see straight, so she and Dean split up time rewriting his homework for him. The curse, which Hermione honestly tried to forget about but just couldn't, had done something to his head. If there had been a chance before that he would be able to see again in his left eye, it was gone now. But at least he got rid of the eyepatch.

She was just copying Seamus' Potions essay when Nico stirred. She had taken to spending every second of spare time at his bedside, waiting for him to wake up. Seamus and Dean were playing Exploding Snap at the end of the bed, while Harry and Victoria talk about the obscurities of blood magic and why it was forbidden and also why it should still be legal. They all turned to look when Nico turned his head.

His black eyes fluttered open, long eyelashes rising. He looked around and tried to sit up, which was a mistake. While he hadn't broken any bones, whatever black magic trick that he had used on Quirrell had taken up almost more energy than his body could spare. He had been on the brink of death for two days while regaining his strength. The whole time, he had refused to open his mouth, even in sleep, for ambrosia or nectar.

Nico tried to sit up, but flopped back down onto the bed after not much effort on his part. "Help" he said, his face half covered by the pillow which had puffed up around his head when he fell onto it. Hermione smiled, amused. She and Harry, each on a different side of Nico, grabbed one of his arms and put one arm behind his back. On the count of three, the pair supported him as he sat up successfully, this time. Victoria shifted Nico's pillow so that it would support him better. After sitting him up, the first thing that happened was Harry hugging Nico. After a brief sobbing spell, Harry stood up again and slapped Nico across the face.

"Nikodemos Thanatos Tartarus Giovanni Lovino di Angelo, don't you ever pull a stunt like that again or so help me, I'll do worse than just slap you."

Nico looked surprised, then touched one hand to the red mark blossoming on his cheek. That slap would leave a huge welt, and it would no doubt stand in sharp contrast to his regular pallor. Then he was hugged by Hermione. At first he was shocked, the he was blushing, then he was hugging back. Then the both of them blushed even more when they said "I'm glad you're safe" at the exact same moment. They hugged for a while. Then Seamus cleared his throat. Hermione jumped back, her face still red, but Nico pulled her back and kissed her on the cheek briefly. She blushed even harder, and so did he. Just as one of them was about to say something, Madame Pomfrey came up behind them.

"I know this is nice and all, but it's almost nine o'clock. Get back to your common rooms before the clock goes, or you'll get points taken away." the kindly Healer told them.

The kids started to pack up their things. Just before she left, Hermione pressed a kiss into Nico's cheek. The both of them blushed again. "See you tomorrow, Nico. Sweet dreams."

The End-of-Term Feast was an even more sumptuous affair than the Start-of-Term Feast had been. Even though they were all sad to go, the entire population of the castle was celebrating the end. Even the castle itself was brighter and warmer than usual. Nico had been released from the Hospital Wing after another good night's rest and some ambrosia. Harry and Hermione kept at his side the whole time, just to make sure he didn't fall and hurt himself. He insisted that he wouldn't, but they made him walk at the front on the way down the narrow, winding staircase of Ravenclaw Tower just so that, in the unlikely event that he did fall, he wouldn't knock anyone else down as he fell.

As they sat together at dinner, Hermione looked at the people around her. Tomorrow, they would be off and she wouldn't see them until September. The seventh-years, Sariah the shy, James the rowdy, Cindy the adventurous, Keiko the careful, Franchesca the neutral party, Duncan the loner, Helena the geeky, Bronwyn the friendly, Tanner the jumpy, Ryan the asshat, and Jacob the everything. They would all be leaving tomorrow, never to return unless as teachers. Only Bronwyn knew what she was going to do after Hogwarts.

Hermione just decided to make the most out of her time with these people. People she would probably never see again after breakfast tomorrow. She smiled at the thought of summer, then scowled at Nico, who had just downed his fifth Butterbeer. He knew that the drink was over 25% alcoholic, and he had never shown any tendencies to having much restraint. Alcohol would not help him with this. One of his dorm-mates, Richard, leaned over and whispered something into Nico's ear. Nico turned bright red. He may have been slightly drunk, but this wouldn't stop his inability to fully understand sexual innuendos and the like. Richard fished five Galleons out of his pockets to wave in Nico's face. They were betting, then. Hermione's frown deepened. Nico pushed the coins away.

It was half an hour later when they left the Great Hall with the rest of Ravenclaw.

The next morning was a bit tearful. This was the end of the year. They were going home and leaving their friends behind for months. Hermione and her group, however, shed no tears.

Hermione would be going back home to her parents, as would Terry, Tony, Seamus, and Dean, with Neville going home to his grandmother.

Nico would be spending half his summer in the Underworld, then split the remaining time between the two camps, who were still blissfully ignorant of the fact that there was another camp at all. Harry would go back to the Dursleys until about a week before term started back up again, whereupon Nico would come get him to live in the Underworld for a week.

Draco and Victoria would be going to Camp Half-Blood; Draco had been going for three years already, and it was Victoria's second.

All the demigods in the group had the opportunity to go to either Camp Half-Blood or Camp Jupiter, but they got the necessary training during the school year, every other day in the Room of Requirement.

While walking to the Hogwarts Express that would take them back to the modern world, Nico decided to go secure a cabin for them. The rest of the group argued that they should all go together, but Nico insisted. If he took someone with him, he would be fine. Eventually, the rest of the group agreed. Hermione was volunteered by Seamus and Dean to go with Nico. Hermione didn't argue.

Nico took them, via Shadow-Travel, straight to the train. They were among the first to be there, the only others being other demigods with teleport powers and their various companions.

There was Liesl Harveys, a daughter of Apollo who could use her powers to teleport after an arrow she's shot. There was Shelley Ertwig, a daughter of Trivia who could already Apparate, and there were no charms that could hold her back. There was Oliver Wood, a son of Hermes who just had a badass sword that could rip holes in space for him to step through. It was a Hermes thing.

Hermione and Nico selected a cabin near the front of the train for their group. Then they sat in awkward silence for a long moment.

"So... what were you and Rich betting on last night?" Hermione asked, trying to break the silence.

"He and the other boys wanted me to do something. I told them I had no need for their gold." Nico wasn't meeting her eyes.

"But what was the bet?" she leaned around to meet his gaze.

"They bet me I couldn't do this." He took her cheek in one hand, and gave her a swift peck...

On the mouth.

Hermione almost didn't believe it. After a minute of sitting there in shock, then said "Well, you've just earned yourself five Galleons."

He smiled at her. She smiled back.

The train's whistle blew and other student started getting on. The rest of the group joined them.

No one would ever know about the kiss.

Then again, no-one noticed the Extendable Eye on the floor.

Fred and George felt a plan forming.