Dead Man's Revelation (Harry Potter & Percy Jackson Crossover)

HOUSE ARREST

Nico was under house arrest. And it wasn't going well.

On any other day, Nico wouldn't have minded. The Underworld can be pretty elegant and peaceful in some days - please ignore the Fields of Punishment and Tartarus. The palace was extra nice if you look past the doom-and-gloom atmosphere. Glinting, black, obsidian walls, gem-studded floors...all pretty impressive. But this wasn't any other day.

Since Hecate had practically forced the quest on him, Hades had forbidden him to go outside the palace because anything might trigger up his prepubescent, wild, teenage emotions and he might make a crater somewhere there shouldn't be one. He just wanted to check up on camp that's all but Hades was being a - and Nico quotes - normal, responsible father and grounded him which, in Greek god translation, means "house arrest". No one was telling him anything at all. Even Hecate who kept checking up on him since then wasn't telling him anything besides, "They're fine" which didn't reassure him at even the littlest bit.

Besides, gods lie just as much as mortals just so they can manipulate demigods into doing their job. There was a reason Nico was always so wary around them.

He had tried shadow travelling out of his room at first. His room was practically filled with shadow and only had three torches on the walls, just enough to shed light on anything that needed to be shed light on. It was made of pure obsidian and was as big as twice his cabin at camp. On one side was a king-sized, four-poster bed with crimson-red drapes and silk-black covers. Beside that was a dresser decorated with bones (lovely) and gems with its vanity's edges braided in pure silver.

At the foot of his bed was his trunk, lying open and with its contents spewed around it in places it shouldn't have been in. Books, parchments and quills were scattered around on his bed and on the floor around it. His robes were thrown on the posts and on the dressers in a way that it would be definitely creased. Some of his inkbottles were freely oozing out on the covers. Not that that was a problem. His covers were black, it would just blend in.

He was pacing around the front of his bed, kicking around any strange parchment and muttering to himself as he tapped his wand against the side of his pants' leg. Every once in a while, he would stop directly in front of his bed and face the wall opposite to it which is just purely made of swirling dark shadows. He would fire a random incantation at it and throw the nearest thing he could get his hands on and chuck the thing at it.

It wouldn't go through. Every. Single. Time.

The wall would just stop swirling the nearer it got and would solidify so nothing would go through it. After the material had hit it and didn't go through, it would just get back to its gloomy swirling.

Several hours ago, he had a goal: a goal to try and raise the enchantment that Hades had made Hecate to cast on the palace so Nico wouldn't be able to shadow travel anywhere as long as he was inside it. His plan was to raise the enchantment in his room. Just his room. Trying to raise the enchantment on the whole castle would just simply be suicidal and stupid.

He wasn't stupid.

He had tried every kind of magic that he knew. He tried every incantation in his books and tried chanting in Greek. Heck, he even yelled at it. Not that it made much impression. The only things his agitated yells attracted were the Furies that was standing guard outside his bedroom. They were pissed. He didn't care. He was practically one of the people that could make their lives completely horrible if they tried to do something he didn't like. Sure, Hades gave the order to guard him, that didn't mean he couldn't frame them for anything later as revenge. They did that to him all the time.

Escape first, revenge later. Nico thought as he paced around. He shook his head and gave another random burst of energy from his wand to the wall. The shadows just gobbled it up and continued swirling as if nothing happened. He'd been like that for hours. It didn't do anything useful, necessarily but he did find it quite therapeutic.