Young and Old, Back and Bold

Chapter 3

They got to the castle just as the door swung open to reveal a witch with black hair and an even sterner expression than Molly when one of the twins blew a hole through Ron's tongue. And behind her, Nico got his first glimpses of the entrance hall. Torches lined the walls and made their way back to a staircase. The ceiling couldn't be seen.

Somewhere deep in Nico, he remembered going to a castle for school before. He could picture the dorms, could see the other boys around him. None of it made sense, none of it made him feel comfortable. But deep down, he knew the memory was real.

Of course, it's real, a female voice rang through the memory as it evaporated. It was just as real as your sister.

Ginny? No, Nico barely counted her as a sister. As he turned to see who had spoken, he realized no one else seemed to have heard.

"Who are you?" Nico whispered as they followed the witch. "What do you want?"

There is much that I want, son of Hades. You're on the right track there.

Son of Hades... It was the same thing the voice from the lake said. Was that his original father? Who named their kid Hades?

"Nico, who are you talking to?" Ron whispered to him. "You look mad, mate."

"Sorry." Nico stepped away from his brother as he tried to disappear into the crowd. Of course, even his brother thought he was an outsider. Everyone always did.

As soon as those thoughts came, they vanished. He hadn't felt like that before, not even on the train. He had always felt accepted at home, even though he looked completely different, even though he was gay. He always felt like he was meant to be there.

Then school hit, and here he was in a mass of kids he knew nothing about.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall said as she started to explain the school and the different houses. Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Nico had heard the stereotypes of each, tried to think what the Weasley's would do if he ended up in a bad house. Molly would pretend it was okay, the twins would never let it go.

Then she was gone, having excused herself to the rest of the school. As Nico watched, the rest of the First Years muttered amongst themselves in nervous anticipation. Even Ron and Harry looked as if they were about to face a hoard of drakons.

Drakons... What even were those? Shouldn't he have thought of dragons instead?

And then his feelings changed again. Shivers jolted down his spine, his chest ached as he felt death surround him, felt the feeling that something was wrong. As he looked, he saw the heard of ghosts stream through the wall. Most glanced at Nico as if they knew who he was, as if all their arguing was about him.

None said a word to him.

Professor McGonagall came back, and when she did the ghosts were gone along with the feelings of discomfort in Nico. He had always been sensitive to ghosts, he had realized growing up, but none had treated him like that. None had felt so wrong.

"Now, form a line," McGonagall commanded. "And follow me."

So they did. Nico grabbed onto the back of Ron's shirt and stood behind him, his legs weighing heavy beneath him. Would everyone be watching? Which house would even take him? He was Nico. He was factually the odd one out.

An orphan.

The Great Hall was beautiful, was magnificent, but also triggered a memory deep within him. Candles floated above the students, who sat at four long tables. They were led by the teacher's table up front, in front of the entire school as an audience. Already, Nico hated the idea of a sorting.

He could see the ghosts in the crowd of students, could see their vapory forms and misty outlines. It made him sick.

"It's bewitched to look like the sky outside," Hermoine whispered, causing Nico to look up at the starry ceiling. "I read about it in Hogwarts: A History."

Of course, she had. Nico didn't even know the girl, but he could tell right away she was Annabeth-like. It was written all over her face.

Annabeth... "Who is Annabeth?" he whispered to himself. He hadn't even heard the name before, let alone know anyone that went by it.

Nico looked over the hall, wondered what he was doing there. Wizards, witches. Where did he fit in? He looked to McGonagall, saw her put a frayed hat on a rickety stool. Was he the only one who didn't think they'd be placed in any house?

Even the hat singing didn't lighten the strange vibes running through his body.

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hate

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry

Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuff are true

And unafraid of toil;

Or yet is wise old Ravenclaw,

If you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning fold use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I"m a Thinking Cap!"

The crowd burst into applause though the song hadn't impressed Nico a bit. In all honesty, it made him think twice about where he was. Something deep inside him told him he didn't belong, that even though he was a wizard he shouldn't be there. Not all wizards end up at Hogwarts, so why should he?

"So we've just got to try on the hat!" Ron whispered to Harry and Nico. "I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll."

Like that'd ever happen, Nico thought, distracted for little more than a second at the thought of his family.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," McGonagall said. "Abbott, Hannah!"

I shouldn't be here, I shouldn't be here. The thoughts raced through Nico's mind. I shouldn't be here.

Harry got sorted, so did Ron.

I shouldn't be here. "Weasley, Nico!" I shouldn't be here.

He walked over to the stool, collapsed onto it as the hat was placed onto his head. I shouldn't be here.

You shouldn't be here, son of Hades.

And with that, he passed out.