Nico, Voldemort's Older Brother: Book One (Rewritten)

Chapter II: The Loss Of Innocent Brain Cells

Nico had no idea why he thought it was a good idea to try to find information about the strange people. Now, he was stuck all the way across the entire freaking Atlantic Ocean in the kitchen of a random house with nothing but the pajamas on his back and his sword. He rubbed his face tiredly.

"Are you okay, dear?" A plump woman—Mrs. Weasley, Nico reminded himself—looked at him with concern. She had been the most sympathetic one when Dumbledore had explained what had happened to Nico's family.

"Yeah," Nico sighed, trying for a smile that he was fairly sure looked more like a grimace. There wasn't a single phone in the entire building, so he had no way of contacting Percy or Sally without drachmas, which he also didn't have because he was wearing pajamas. "Back home, I'd be sleeping right about now."

Ron snorted. "Well, you can blame your great-uncle for that."

Nico scoffed. "My great-uncle didn't transport me halfway across the world without my consent. If I'd known you were okay with dragging civilians into your problems I would've stayed in bed."

Molly looked pained. "They brought you here to protect you, Nico dear. You don't know how powerful He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is."

Nico shrugged. "And he doesn't know how powerful I am."

More people had started to enter the kitchen as Ron snickered. "Wizards have magic, you dolt—"

"Ronald!" Mrs. Weasley reprimanded. Ron quailed under her look before speaking again. "Sorry. But you can't just defeat wizards through physical combat. Besides, how 'powerful' could you possibly be? You look like a twig."

Nico raised an eyebrow, suddenly grateful that his pajamas were somewhat baggy. His body wasn't severely muscled but Ron had severely underestimated him. "I know wizards use magic, Ronald. If you all could be beaten through physical combat, I'd have wiped the floor with you when you showed up at the apartment."

Ron turned as red as his hair and stood up, knocking his chair to the ground. "Oh yeah? Prove it!"

By this time, Hermione had also entered the kitchen and placed a cautionary hand on Ron's shoulder. "Ron, maybe you shouldn't—"

"No, Hermione!" Ron brushed her hand away. "He needs to learn his place!"

Nico stood, politely pushing his chair in with a pointed look at Ron before turning to Mrs. Weasley. "Would you happen to have a set of clothes I could change into, Mrs. Weasley?"

The woman in question looked slightly queasy. "Well, yes dear, Dumbledore took the liberty of going back to the apartment and summoning all your belongings for you. But I strongly have to advise against—"

"Awww, is little Ronnikins gearing up for a fight?" Two voices spoke simultaneously from the doorway. They both looked like less temperamental, taller versions of Ron. Nico guessed they were siblings (because at this point, after meeting so many demigods, he assumed everyone was related to each other). Their eyes were bright with a mischievousness that sort of reminded Nico of the Stolls. Nico also took a moment to be immensely grateful that Dumbledore had brought his possessions. He'd kept everything, including his drachmas, in a single suitcase with a lock of Celestial bronze that he was pretty sure wouldn't respond to magical unlocking spells. He'd be able to contact someone if he needed to.

Mrs. Weasley looked back and forth between the twins and Nico before sighing once and leading Nico up a flight of stairs to an empty room. It was empty save for a window, an empty bookshelf, a bed, and his suitcase.

"Well..." Nico sighed, "Thanks, I guess."

"I'm sorry about Ron," Mrs. Weasley said, pausing outside the door. "He's been rather aggressive lately."