Chapter Text
Nico di Angelo couldn't IM anyone.
He couldn't see anyone.
He couldn't see anything, actually.
All he knew was that he was careening in dark space, catching glimpses of things that he couldn't quite grasp. It wasn't like shadow travel; that felt cold and empty, depriving, yet now Nico was being pressed through a rubber tube. Smells, both good and bad, flew past his nose, and his fingers felt like they split at one point. A shattering glass ball narrowly missed his face. With a surge of nausea climbing in his throat, he crashed onto hard concrete feet-first with a crack! ringing in his ears. The shock made Nico fall to his knees retching like a cat with a hairball. He hadn't felt this kind of sick disorientation since he first shadow traveled as a boy, but no amount of preparation could have readied him for that terrible experience anyway. A few pedestrians squeaked and hurried off at Nico's sudden appearance, muttering in hushed tones and not looking back once even when Nico begged for them to stop.
He groaned and shakily righted himself, taking in his surroundings. He recognized this part of London.
"King's Cross Station," he mused. He'd been here once before; Thanatos had asked Nico to catch a haunter that somehow escaped the iPad List of Death. That quest ended with both Thanatos and Letus arguing with Pluto through an outdated version of Skype over whether hauntings were acceptable tourist attractions or not. Pluto, the Underworld lord of wealth, had apparently been deleting names and allowing them to stay in the mortal world in order to "stimulate the global economy."
Nico knew there was a fantastic pastry shop nearby and made a beeline for it before anything else, hoping that the leftover nausea from his unprecedented teleportation didn't ruin his appetite completely. If the—Oracle?—felt that it was so important to teleport him here without warning, then he felt that having a perfect raspberry crown was well within his rights.
Camp Half-Blood rebuilt rather quickly after the Siege, though the Roman counterpart Camp Jupiter was still quite irritable over the whole debacle. Nico himself had to get used to even more sneers and backhanded insults than he already did, and this time it wasn’t entirely because he was Hades’s son—no, it was because he was one of the ruffians who sabotaged Camp Jupiter’s onagers. That day Nico was supposed to accompany Will Solace and Annabeth Chase on a minor quest as exhaustion plagued the Hecate cabin as of late. The stones making up the cabin were rumored to be "tree bombs" that would transform everything in a half-mile radius into a yew if they ever touched the ground, so after an accident involving a camper nearly dropping one of their cabin stones and causing a mass tree panic, they intended to find Ella the Harpy and Tyson the Cyclopes for a lead from the Sibylline Books.
The pair were found in the Big House along with Rachel Dare, the now-defunct host of the Oracle of Delphi. Ella was crouching on top of the ping-pong table as Tyson and Rachel pored through an ancient book, and when the demigods entered the room the harpy made an excited sound like a squawk.
“Nico, Will, and Annabeth! Just the people I wanted to see—well, more just Will and Annabeth, but I don’t mind Nico being here too!”
Will shook his head in disappointment at the remark but didn’t comment on it. Instead Annabeth told her about their mission, and after a good while of thinking Ella gave a dejected shrug. “I don’t know. I can give you some guesses but all of the Hecate-sounding verses I know aren’t even a little related to sleep or anything.”
“Just tell us then, worse comes to worst they’re useless and we have to start at square one. The Apollo cabin agreed to help out—” Annabeth gestured to Will then, “so either way we’ll be prepared.”
Ella looked at Rachel nervously. The redhead gave an equally unsure expression and stood up to take over: “No, really, Annabeth. I know that the Hecate cabin’s having problems but you’re better off starting with Hypnos. The Oracle is still dormant and our work here really shouldn’t be interrupt—”
Rachel’s voice caught in her throat. She made a choked moaning sound as a hand flew to her neck and her knees buckled. Tyson jumped up to steady her as she stumbled back, his single eye wide as a tire while Ella cowered under her talons in fear. Rachel convulsed in his arms, continuing to struggle against her own mouth as green Mist began pouring out of her face. Her eyes rolled wildly and she thrust herself forward to slam both palms on the ping-pong table with a wail of pain.
“No, wait! This isn’t—”
Tyson was thrown off-balance as a wave of green magic burst out of Rachel’s body, extinguishing all the lights in the Big House and slamming the door behind Nico’s group. His hand flew to his sword and Will grabbed onto his wrist, shaking his head with a look of strange understanding. Nico relaxed and looked back to Rachel, who had completely stopped fighting and just stood there eerily. Her posture was regal and an unnatural Mist light illuminated the bottom of her face, her glowing green eyes indicating that somehow her Oracle’s voice had been activated. Slowly, Rachel’s hands raised as if she held a pole in each, and once her fingers finished wrapping around the invisible items she began to speak in a strained three-parted choir.
"Death's bane and Death's born,
The flaming gold—a cursed blade's scorn,
The flight from Death's thanage,
The dual thane's mischief managed."
And with that, Nico was swept into suffocating darkness.
Nico came across a problem once he reached the pastry shop: he didn’t carry any euros. And also the pastry shop was gone. That might be the bigger issue.
No matter how much he squinted his eyes at the barren sign and paced around it, the building seemed to be under deep renovation. The boy made a huff of disappointment and kicked a pebble into the street but turned back to where he first landed: King’s Cross Station.
The train station wasn’t so bad today. There was the usual hustle and bustle but it was relatively tamer than Nico expected, save for the occasional overflowing trolley and gaggle of children behind it. It must have been a school trip. Nico still kept close to the shadows on the walls, observing the platforms like a cat. So long as he kept in the dark, the dark would embrace and shroud him from even demigod detection. He wasn’t sure what he was waiting for—a monster, maybe, or another confused demigod? Maybe Will and Annabeth were also transported somewhere close and they were looking for him just as much as he was looking for them. Something in his gut knew that wasn’t the case.
Another stampede of families swept through the station heading towards the higher platforms. Since Nico hadn’t seen anything suspicious in this area he followed them, tailing the shadows of redheaded twins to remain half-invisible. Unfortunately in his distracted state he accidentally flat-tired one of them, causing the boy to spin around in shock.
"Sorry."
“Oi! What’re you doing back there, following us so closely?”
“Oi, my brother Fred’s asked you a question there. I think you should give him a right answer.”
Nico had frozen where he stood, along with the entirety of the family the twins were following. He mumbled an apology and tried skirting the pair, but he came face-to-face with a black-haired boy so layered with death’s touch that it gave Nico pause. He peered at Nico through large wireframe glasses.
“Hi, the twins giving you trouble?” he asked innocently.
“Us? Lad stepped on my shoe, he did!” Fred said indignantly.
“I said I’m sorry,” Nico murmured again, his eyes not leaving the brunet before him. He tried studying the wisps of darkness that wrapped itself around him but kept losing track of each thread; this one was supposed to be dead many times over, it appeared.
“Well, hello there!” A middle-aged ginger woman beamed at Nico and rushed away from her trolley. “Are you lost? We’d be happy to give you some directions if so.”
“Blimey, mum, the kid’s stepped on my foot and you’re getting all chummy with him now?” Despite the offended wording Fred had a jovial tone, reminding Nico of a Stoll brother. If he'd read him correctly, this twin was only trying to get a rise out of Nico because he was older.
“Oh, come off it George. Look at his scared little face, he’s lost for sure.” Fred-George’s mother gave him a light smack on the arm before ushering him and his brother to the trolley she abandoned. Then she turned back to Nico, a gentle hand pushing on his back. “What are you looking for then, darling?”
“Muuum,” another redheaded boy said, giving Nico a brief moment to think of an answer as he glanced at the rest of the party. He was likely the same age as Nico and the brunet, who was still staring dumbly, with a large black dog leashed at his side. It was side-eyeing Nico. Another brunette, a girl with mousy hair and a permanently curious curl in her lip, shared the ginger boy’s bored gaze. That was as far as he got before he had to give an answer.
“Uhhh.” Nico’s eyes darted to the woman’s ticket, which read PLATFORM 9 ¾. “I’m going to… Platform Nine and Three-Quarters?”
Her eyes shined with excitement. “Oh! You’re a Hogwarts student, aren’t you? Well come along then, we’re going there too. Where’s your trolley?”
“Uhh. It’s already on the train. I was… just saying goodbye to my mum.” Nico hoped they didn’t notice, but he donned his old Italian accent halfway through his response. A man nearby with a whirling blue eye stared daggers into Nico’s head. That one noticed. He whispered something to a ragged-looking man in a brown tweed suit, who then passed it along to the next person: a woman with spiky bubblegum-pink hair. It seemed the dog also got the message somehow, as it started lightly growling under the bespectacled boy’s arm. He glanced down to the dog quickly and gave it a slight nod, at which the dog quieted again.
“I’m Mrs. Weasley,” the motherly woman said. “The twins over there are Fred and George, my sons, and the shorter one’s Ron. That there’s my daughter Ginny and Hermione Granger. My husband’s… ah, over there.” Mrs. Weasley pointed behind the gang, where one last redheaded man lagged behind slightly, looking at the train station’s visitors with such wonder Nico thought he might have never been outside before. The woman continued, “Have you all met before?”
All of them shook their heads. “Never seen him before in my life,” Ron said.
“Neither have I.”
“Nor we,” came an eerily double-toned answer.
“First-year then? But you don’t look twelve… What’s your name, then?” Mrs. Weasley asked in a chipper tone.
“Nico di Angelo. Uh, I’m a transfer,” Nico said in the most innocent voice he could manage. He was nailing this blending-in thing, he was sure of it.
“Ooh, let me guess… Beauxbatons? It’s closest to Italy,” the noticeably un-introduced boy with the dog wondered.
“I heard Beauxbatons practices the Dark Arts,” Ron said scandalously, scrutinizing Nico’s all-black attire.
“That’s Durmstrang, you dolt.”
“I bet you Beauxbatons practices it! I bet you five Sickles.”
“They don’t.”
Nico considered making a break for it but Mrs. Weasley’s careful hand urged Nico to join the party, muttering something that sounded like ‘moggle-born’ to Hermione. His hand wavered around his sword sheathe, trusting that the Mist would keep it hidden but unsure if any of the mortals around him had Clear Sight. The man with the fake blue eye certainly seemed to judging by the daggers he was staring into Nico’s back. Again Blue-Eye whispered to Tweed Suit. Nico continued to pretend that he was just a very lonely and very lost child.
The party stopped at a brick wall between Platforms Nine and Ten and began positioning behind it. Mrs. Weasley broke off from Nico and started directing the group into a line—Fred, George, you boys go first—Hermione, with Ron and Ginny—Padfoot, get out of the way or you’ll get your paw run over again—
Nico snickered as the twins positioned themselves in front of the brick wall, bracing themselves as if they were going to ram it. As if anyone would be dumb enough to—
The first twin ran straight through and disappeared.
Nico blinked in slight surprise and wondered how these mortals managed that trick. Unless they were Hecate's children? No. Hecate's children would still have some sort of Mist barrier to prevent mortals from seeing, right? In this case there was no Mist anywhere yet mortals still ignored the obvious magic. The only option left was wizards.
Wizards, of course! Nico almost slapped himself for forgetting them. Lou Ellen Blackstone held a week-long class of witchcraft history before her cabin fell ill, of which Nico skipped half of because of Frank Zhang’s sudden Quest for the Golden Half-Eaten Apple (don’t ask). In ancient times gods and goddesses loved playing around with mortal potential; Trivia created her own little magical society that would worship her forever against Hecate’s will. Apparently that didn’t work out as they now had a thriving society in England.
Nico was encouraged through next and he rushed through with his eyes closed until he felt the air change. Once he opened his eyes he was greeted by a completely different station that looked almost golden in the soft sunbeams streaming from above. This side of the station was chaotic and loud, full of families hugging children goodbye and hefting trolley luggage into train cars.
“Didn’t have a train back in Beauxbatons, did you?” Fred or George asked Nico. He shook his head no.
A few minutes later the rest of the Weasley party had run through. Mr. Weasley woke from his train-filled stupor and got to work, calling Hermione and Ron to help him pack everyone’s luggage onboard. Nico deduced that it was something about the non-magical world that fascinated Mr. Weasley rather than the novelty of a train.
Padfoot Boy appeared next to Nico with a small wave. “If you want you can sit with us once we board—er, with me, I meant. Ron and Hermione over there are both Prefects.”
Nico decided not to blurt his immediate question, The Hades is a Prefect?
Padfoot Dog huffed below him and tugged on his leash, still eyeing Nico with unnervingly human eyes. His handler rolled his eyes and unleashed him.
“There you go Padfoot. Now stop growling at the creepy boy and chase some more pigeons or something, you’re spooking him.”
The dog snorted again and trotted off to Tweed Guy who gave it an absentminded pat on the head. The boy went to meet Ron and Hermione, who had just returned.
Fake-Eye Guy then stepped in front of Nico as everyone else was distracted, leaning in suspiciously.
"I've noticed our dog Padfoot here doesn't like you very much. Why don't you tell us why you're really interested in Hogwarts?" His voice lowered to a gruff rumble, “Nico di Angelo.”
"I don't know what you mean.” Nico tried to keep his voice even as the magical eye paused its spinning to peer deep into Nico’s heart.
“Of course you don’t,” the man spit out. Pink Girl came up behind him and pulled him away from Nico’s face, chiding him, “He’s just a boy, lay off it Moody!”
Fake-Eye Moody barked back his displeasure and stalked off, giving Padfoot Boy a firm clap on the shoulder before continuing to Mr. Weasley. The boy turned back just as Nico vanished into the crowd, looking conflicted before heading into the train himself once Ginny gave him a shove in. Nico followed close behind his shadow.
The boy and Ginny bumbled through the narrow train carriage muttering to each other, the former carrying an owl in a cage. Their Prefect friends had gone on ahead already. Nico couldn’t help but notice the way the other students on the train looked at Padfoot Boy with unmasked interest through the compartment doors, some even pressing against the glass as he passed to try and get a better look. Maybe he wasn’t introduced because Mrs. Weasley assumed Nico already recognized him?
In the last carriage they met a meek-looking boy without a seat. It seemed that they knew him as well though Nico didn’t listen to their exchange; he was too distracted by the fat toad in his clutches. He could excuse the owl but the toad went too far. The sheer witchiness of their world was almost comical! Eventually the now-trio chose a compartment occupied by a blonde girl with her head buried in a magazine. She looked up at her classmates as they said their hellos, and upon closer look Nico realized that her magazine was upside-down. Strangely enough it helped him read it: The Quibbler.
“You’re Harry Potter,” the girl said dreamily. Her magazine lowered slightly from her face, revealing a chain of bottle caps hanging around her neck.
“I know I am,” Harry Potter mumbled.
“And I don’t know who you are,” she continued as she turned her grey eyes to Toad Boy.
“I’m nobody.”
Ginny interrupted, “No you’re not. Neville Longbottom—Luna Lovegood. Luna’s in my year, but in Ravenclaw…”
Nico stopped listening after that. Harry Potter rang a bell. He should know the name Harry Potter. Who was Harry Potter…
Oh no.
Harry Potter was that kid who defeated that one guy who kept escaping judgement right? Tom Riddle? The one that Lou Ellen even seemed wary of, during her magic history talk?
OH GODS DOES THIS MEAN NICO IS IN THE PAST?
"You're Harry Potter?" Nico clenched his fists in his lap.
"Yeah. You're not going to go all crazy, are you?" He looked extremely embarrassed. “What, calling me a lying glory-grabber and all that?”
"Oh no, I'm not. Just a little surprised that out of all the people I could have met… It was Harry. Potter," Nico spoke through his teeth and rubbed the skull ring sitting on his finger, "Remind me what the date is, dare I ask?"
"Why? You know the—"
"It's very important."
Before anyone else could question him Luna Lovegood answered cheerfully, "It’s September 1, 1995!”