Nico di Angelo and the Order of the Phoenix

Chapter 3: Will

Harry stared at the horses for the rest of the ride. Was he going mad? Ever since Dudley had died, he'd felt empty, but not insane. Scratch that-it had started when Nico was murdered. What if it was all a hallucination? But then. That would mean Nico wasn't dead-he couldn't go there. That would also mean that Voldemort had not risen, but he clearly had. Harry had seen everything. Seen Nico's body roll off the hill, vanishing into the darkness after he destroyed the shadows that had swarmed them. The shadows that Voldemort had had under his control. The shadows that were evil. Harry didn't even know how you could create such a thing, but he was certain that it was very, very dark magic. So how had Nico made them? He hadn't said anything about it to anyone, and he wasn't even sure if Dumbledore would know.

"Harry. Harry!" Harry blinked to see a hand waving in front of his face. "Are you alright, mate?" Ron retracted his hand to look at him with a piercing gaze.

Harry nodded, turning his head to see that they had arrived in front of Hogwarts. Everyone had left the carriage, though Hermione was standing nearby.

Ron looked at him for another second, then climbed off, jumping the last few steps. Harry followed, shaking his conspiracy theories from his mind.

They entered the building after nearly everyone. Harry looked up at the ceiling. Tonight it was a murky gray. It seemed fitting-matching his mood for however long.

"Potter!" A shout rang from across the hall. Harry flinched. "Potter, the headmaster would like to see you in his office." Professor McGonagall spun, her robes billowing. Harry was glad that there were no people in the Hall-they were all through the doors to the banquet tables. How could he have already messed up? He had just entered Hogwarts. Was it the dementor attack? Harry knew he could've prevented it-he knew he could've saved Dudley. And yet he failed to produce a patronus, killing his cousin. He'd then fled like a coward and run into Tonks. He was only alive because of Tonks.

Harry turned to Hermione and Ron. "Go on, mate. We'll save you a spot." Ron said, nudging him forward. Hermione just smiled.

He followed Professor McGonagall to the headmaster's office. She had already opened the entranceway, and was standing at the gargoyle. "Well, hurry up Potter. He hasn't got much time. Can't be having those poor children welcomed by Professor Snape. Or worse, that toad," She muttered the last bit under her breath. Harry had to restrain his wry chuckle. She must really dislike that toad, as McGonagall put it.

Harry went up the staircase, McGonagall following. Dumbledore opened the door before they could even knock. "Excellent, Harry, you're here. I have someone here to talk to you. Harry, this is Will. Will, this is Harry. Anyway, Professor McGonagall and I must get going-I have a speech to make. There is food on the table-you have all night." With that he swept out the room, Professor McGonagall giving a brief nod before leaving and closing the door as well.

Harry turned to look at the other occupant. He seemed to be around Harry's age, with blonde hair and blue eyes. He looked slightly worried, almost sad.

"I'm Will," the boy said, sticking out his hand.

"Harry," Harry replied. Dumbledore had already introduced them, but he didn't know how else to reply.

Will scratched the back of his neck after they shook hands. "So I've been told you're Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived."

Harry nodded. He didn't deserve to be. Nico had died. Dudley had died. "You're American." A slow realization was dawning on him. Nico was American.

"Yeah, I'm from Camp Half-Blood."

Harry looked at him, confused. "What's that?"

"I've been told I can trust you. Nico was from there."

Harry shook his head. "No, he wasn't. Nico was a transfer from Ilvermorny."

"You know-knew Nico?" Will sounded so relieved, like that was the best thing he'd heard in a long time. Harry didn't miss how he had switched to past tense, though.

"I did. He was killed in the Triwizard Tournament." Harry mumbled, not even sure if Will could hear him.

Will seemed to catch it all. He flinched. "What happened?" He breathed out, not even seeming like he wanted to know the answer.

Harry took a deep breath. He needed to control himself. It was his fault that Nico was dead, and Will was clearly an important person to Nico. Will deserved to know. He needed to push his own trauma away.

"There was a maze-it was the final task. The goal was to find the center, to find the Triwizard Cup. Nico and I found it first. We decided to have a tie. However, when we grabbed the Cup, it teleported us to a graveyard." Harry looked at Will to see if he had understood. The blonde had followed it all, not even questioning it.

Harry continued. "You know Voldemort?"

Will nodded. "Dumbledore told me all about him. Well, not all. But some. I know. Sorry." Will realized he was rambling.

Harry waved it off. "It's fine. Voldemort was reborn there. But before that, there was a shadow. It seemed to have a will of its own."

"How were these shadows created?" Will interrupted.

"Nico made them. He told me so." Harry's voice came out as a whisper.

Will flinched but didn't say anything. Harry took that as permission to continue. "Wormtail, a servant of Voldemort, killed him. With the Killing Curse."

Will seemed to brighten. "You survived the Killing Curse."

Harry shook his head. "I'm sorry. I saw him. He was dead. He was my friend."

All the light that had gathered around Will vanished, leaving the room gloomy. "Where's his body?" Will asked.

Harry winced. "I'm sorry. I couldn't find him."

"So you left."

"I'm sorry."

Will didn't seem mad-in fact he seemed to have gained some hope again. "Can I see your memory?"

"What?"

"Your memory of the day. There's a Pensieve here," Will walked to a cabinet, removing a bowl full of shimmering liquid. "Focus on the memory, draw it out using your wand, and place it-"

"Yes!" Harry practically jumped. "I know how it works-I've been in one."

Will looked at him curiously but didn't question it. "Your memory," he said, guestering at the bowl.

Harry lifted his wand to his temple, grimacing as he focused on what happened that day. He drew his wand away from his temple. A string of silver was attached to the tip, almost like hair. Harry placed the wisp in the Pensieve. It shimmered, then the surface turned to a view of the Great Hall.

Will looked at the Pensieve desperately.

"I'm coming with you," Harry said, swallowing his fears. It was his fault, after all.

Will nodded, then placed his hand on the liquid at the same time as Harry. The world spun into a blur of colours as they were sucked downward.