Nico di Angelo and The Triwizard Cup

Prologue

Nico di Angelo was waiting at the café he didn't want to be at, sitting in an uncomfortable metal chair he didn't want to sit in, waiting for a man he didn't want to meet, and sipping a black coffee he too desperately needed.

He didn't actually know the name of the café, but it was within walking distance of his apartment, and served cheap, strong coffee that Will didn't need to know about.

Eventually, he noted a man with a dramatically long beard and spectacles, wearing robes that might have been in fashion within the Wizarding community or some five-hundred years ago but didn't scream normality in downtown Chicago.

It appeared Dumbledore had arrived.

Sculling the remainder of his drink and relishing the burn against the cold, windy air, he stood to shake the hand of the man he came to meet.

In his letters, he hadn't said much of what he wanted, but for him to come out of his school tower to visit a young professor in America it had to be something worth writing home about. When the Supreme Mugwump calls to arrange a meeting with you, it wasn't something you could just ignore.

They sat down and ordered, Nico deciding against his better judgement that he probably shouldn't be having his fourth coffee of the day at half past nine in the morning. He got a cake.

Dumbledore seemed pleased with his tea and cinnamon bun, either ignorant or ignoring the waitress' perplexed stare.

Nico waited for him to talk, but when he didn't he began tapping his foot in impatience. Will left for a shift in twenty minutes, and he needed to be home before then to watch Marco. It was supposed to be his day off to spend time with his son, but here he was, freezing his ass off.

He loved the little brat, he really did, but he hadn't had this little sleep since he was in his teens. That was saying something.

So, trying to move the conversation forward, he set down his fork, cleared his throat and asked, "What can I help you with, Dumbledore?"

"Please, call me Albus," he replied with a chuckle.

"What can I help you with Albus?"

"I've heard you've become quite the professor." Dumbledore seemed to not appreciate the hurry he was in, and it was getting on his nerves. 

"You don't say?"

"And at such a young age, too."

"Yes," Nico sighed. Will was going to kill him if he was late. "What of it?"

"Well, I've not a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher this coming year, and I'd hate to burden the Muggle Studies professor with both assignments. I was wondering if you would like to fill that role."

"I'd have to talk with my husband before making any promises, Albus. I'm sure you understand." Nico was gay, he had a husband, and he didn't care what Albus thought about either of them. Screw that, 1930's childhood. Anyone with a problem with him could consult his sword or his scalpel wielding Doctor.

Whatever reaction he expected from those words, it was not the predatorial glint in the old bat's eyes, like he'd just got all his enemies tied up in a bow for early Christmas. He didn't like the way it made the fine hairs of his upper arms stand or his hand itch for a weapon.

"Husband? May I ask what his name is?"

He didn't like that Will seemed to be the early Christmas enemy.

"Will."

"Will?"

He was asking for a surname.

"Yes, that's what I said."

He wouldn't get one, not until he explained himself.

"And is Will a wizard?"

Yes. A fact they had discovered a few years back, when he decided it would be a good idea to try and use Nico's wand. One crockery set later, he was married to a wizard and Nico bought him his own wand to teach him some magic. To no one's surprise, he had an affinity for healing, and as a result there wasn't much Nico could teach him. 

"Why do you ask?" Nico dodged. 

It was definitely a cagey answer, but that could've been taken either way.

"It is my belief that William Solace's grandfather was a wizard. He is very powerful, and though it was believed he didn't have children I have recently found evidence to contradict that."

This was news. When they'd found out, they'd asked Naomi, but she'd been adopted as a child. They just assumed he was muggleborn and left it at that. It didn't particularly matter anyway. Nico was a pureblood, sure, but Grandfather Nicolas, for whom he was named, had been the only one who cared about that and he died when Nico was six. His mother never gave a damn, and he sure didn't.

Dumbledore had paused to let the news sink in, but now he continued, "I would like to meet with Mr. Solace and confirm this, but first, if I could ask you some questions? It is of the utmost importance."

"Questions about what?"

"Your husband."

"Shoot." You can't say no to the Supreme Mugwump.

"Do you know the identity of his father?"

"No." You have to lie to him and hope he doesn't notice. Besides, whilst demigod wizards existed they were so rare and so powerful they were kept under lock and key. Constantly surrounded and guarded and watched.

No, thank you. Not today Satan.

"I see... Did you know prior to this he could do magic?"

"Yes, and I registered him with the Magical Congress and taught him. He's legal."

"What kind of wand does he use?"

"I'm sorry?"

"His wand?"

Nico huffed. Will was definitely going to kill him. If Marco didn't drive his husband insane first.

"Ash wood, unicorn hair, eleven inches."

"And yourself?" Dumbledore asked, before he could get a word in.

"Cedar wood, thestral tail hair, nine and a half inches; why do you ask?"

"Simply the curiosity of an old man."

I definitely don't like him, he thought. Looking at his watch he had 5 minutes to get back. If I sprint, I can make it.

Dusting crumbs off his pants, he stood, reaching out a hand to shake.

"If that's all, I have somewhere I need to be, I'm afraid, and if I don't leave now, I won't make it. If you have any other questions however, please feel free to mail me."

"Voldemort."

Nico slowly raised an eyebrow, "I'm sorry?"

"The strong wizard that I do believe is your grandfather-in-law. It is one Tom Marvolo Riddle, otherwise known as Voldemort."

Nico may have been out of the loop for some years, and Voldemort may not have scared him like most wizards, but he knew enough to understand the implications of what Dumbledore was saying.

Scanning his face with its twinkling blue eyes, he knew he didn't have to fear. Dumbledore may have been high up within the government, but he was an... eccentric old man. He wouldn't tell anyone until it suited himself, and when it did, he would likely go through Nico again.

They'd watch each other, test each other. And depending on what they found they'd either be worst of enemies or greatest of allies.

Neither could ignore this.

At an understanding, Nico nodded tersely before marching himself round the corner and into an ally to shadow travel back home. He never saw Dumbledore again, but the letters they exchanged over the following years marked Nico as a man with connections and Dumbledore as a man with spies.