Worlds Collide Harm(fully)(lessly)

Chapter 5

That night, Nico laid in bed with his eyes on the ceiling above him. The Hufflepuff dormitories were warm, welcoming, the smell of home. They were usually all he needed to get a good night's rest, which was something that he once thought he'd never be graced with again. After Tartarus...

But things had changed, he had grown up in this world instead of that. He had learned that Tartarus was nothing more than a distant memory, a lesson stating that there is always something worse than death. And he could relax knowing that he would never go down there again. Because even though he promised to try and keep himself alive, he knew he'd rather surrender to death than go through it again.

And so the nights had gotten easier, he could sleep peacefully in places he called home. Hogwarts, the Burrow, his cabin, the Underworld. They were home. But here he was, in the warmest home he had, unable to close his eyes without seeing Voldemort's face.

Voldemort knew of demigods, he knew of their dreams and how to use them to show Nico whatever he wanted. What else did he know against him? What else would he use to bring down the wizarding world once and for all?

His movements reminded Nico too much of Adolf Hitler, the stories he had heard and the few memories of his first childhood in the forties. Once Italian, once unwillingly Nazi. Now a wizard, a death eater, a follower of the rising dark power again.

Nico hated it, he was ashamed of it. But that mark was permanent.

When he finally did let himself fall asleep and the dreams overtook him, he found himself watching another meeting of Voldemort and Wormtail.

"It could be done without Harry Potter, My Lord," Wormtail was saying.

"Without Harry Potter? I see . . ."

"My Lord, I do not say this out of concern for the boy!" Wormtail said. "The boy is nothing to me, nothing at all! It is merely that if we were to use another witch or wizard — any wizard — the thing could be done so much more quickly! If you allowed me to leave you for a short while — you know that I can disguise myself most effectively — I could be back here in as little as two days with a suitable person —"

"I could use another wizard," said the cold voice softly, "that is true. . . ."

"My Lord, it makes sense," Wormtail continued. "Laying hands on Harry Potter would be so difficult, he is so well protected —"

"And so you volunteer to go and fetch me a substitute? I wonder . . . perhaps the task of nursing me has become wearisome for you. Wormtail? Could this suggestion of abandoning the plan be nothing more than an attempt to desert me?"

"My Lord! I — I have no wish to leave you, none at all —"

"Do not lie to me! I can always tell, Wormtail! You are regretting that you ever returned to me. I revolt you. I see you flinch when you look at me, feel you shudder when you touch me. . . ."

"No! My devotion to Your Lordship —"

"Your devotion is nothing more than cowardice. You would not be here if you had anywhere else to go. How am I to survive without you, when I need feeding every few hours? Who is to milk Nagini?"

"But you seem so much stronger, My Lord —"

"Liar. I am no stronger, and a few days alone would be enough to rob me of the little health I have regained under your clumsy care. Silence!"

"I have my reasons for using the boy, as I have already explained to you, and I will use no other. I have waited thirteen years. A few more months will make no difference. As for the protection surrounding the boy, I believe my plan will be effective. All that is needed is a little courage from you, Wormtail — courage you will find, unless you wish to feel the full extent of Lord Voldemort's wrath — and Nico di Angelo. The demigod will lead the boy right into my hands."

Nico tried to close his eyes but found he couldn't, his gaze forever locked on his fake master and fellow slave.

Maybe he had made a mistake. Maybe he never should have went through with this plan. But if he hadn't, who else would?

He was the traitor, he was the spy, he did the dirty work. It was just how things went in war.

Wormtail was dismissed and soon enough, Nico found himself across from what used to be Tom Riddle.

"You're an interesting boy." Voldemort's voice was warmer than before but still colder than any other. "Betraying your friends, betraying your family, just to help your mother's old friend."

Nico tried to speak but his mouth remained shut.

"We will rule the world together, we will avenge Maria's death. Yes..." Voldemort's eyes gleamed, and for the first time, Nico saw humanity through that anger. "She will live again, just as I will."

Nico's blood froze. And through the haze of holy shit, he might actually be somewhat human, Nico realized that Voldemort spoke about Maria di Angelo in the same tone that Hades did.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning at breakfast, Nico ate silently amid the boisterous Hufflepuff table. Everyone still eyed him, sometimes, and new kids would ask how the hell he was so different from the other Weasley's. Black hair, golden freckles, Hufflepuff, his mix of accents...

He didn't bother answering anyone who actually dared speak to him. His mind was too busy figuring out why there wasn't a solid line to separate good and evil.

They had Herbology with the Gryffindors first period. Nico could actually participate after Persephone's blessing but still hated anything to do with plants and their keeping. Especially magical plants. They were too messy, and according to all common sense, plants weren't supposed to be able to move. But there they were.

And then there was dinner, Malfoy's voice greeting Nico as soon as he stepped into the Great Hall.

"Your dad's in the paper, Weasley!" Malfoy was in front of Ron, the Daily Prophet in hand. "Listen to this! It seems as though the Ministry of Magic's troubles are not yet at an end, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. Recently under fire for its poor crowd control at the Quidditch World Cup, and still unable to account for the disappearance of one of its witches, the Ministry was plunged into fresh embarrassment yesterday by the antics of Arnold Weasley, of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office." Malfoy smirked. "Imagine them not even getting his name right, Weasley. It's almost as though he's a complete nonentity, isn't it?"

Anger fueled up in Nico's chest as he stomped over to the scene. Those who noticed him quickly retreated back.

"And there's a picture, Weasley!" Malfoy continued. "A picture of your parents outside their house — if you can call it a house! Your mother could do with losing a bit of weight, couldn't she?"

Nico clenched his fists as he reached them, momentarily seeing Ron's red face but not able to notice anything beside the fact that Malfoy's pale face looked so punchable. No one made fun of his family.

And in that anger, he couldn't help but wonder if it was the same protectiveness that had sent Voldemort over the edge, the hatred Maria and her family had been shown by the wizarding world, his love for her and the closeness he had to that family.

And with that one thought in mind, Nico's knuckles collided with Malfoy's nose.