I'd like to thank Ace1412 and Sergeant Meow, who PMed me and basically kick started this fic. I do hope it lives up to expectations.

If anyone has worries that I would fall for the obvious cliché here and ruin the story, please read this chapter before clicking away!

Some of the interactions between Potter-verse are quoted from the books.

I'm making a few of assumptions for Blood of Olympus, and there are possible spoilers House of Hades.

On with the story!

Nico di Angelo and the Goblet of Fire

Returning to Hogwarts for the fourth time was surreal.

Everything and nothing had changed.

If Nico was perfectly frank, returning to Hogwarts, after the War and everything he'd been through, was a chore.

But where better to avoid Percy, Hazel and the rest than at a school of magic that they couldn't attend?

He wasn't interested in a confrontation with his cousin or his sister. He had told them it was finished. He was done.

Of course, the fact that everyone would know he was at Hogwarts was another reason not to come back, but if it guaranteed they couldn't reach him then fine.

And the Hunt had no reason to track him down, so Thalia would leave him alone too.

He was a man of his word. He had a quest, and magic was great at hiding things (Diagon Alley in the heart of London being just one example…) so he'd be protected from any demigods trying to contact him for whatever reason.

He had tried, he really had. He'd tried so hard to deny that his feelings for Percy were anything other than brotherly affection (he'd even convinced himself for a while), and had ended up humiliated in front of the Son of Jupiter of all people. He'd tried to broker a peace between the camps, but he'd only made things worse until Reyna had finally got Octavian and Clarisse to back down. At least Rachel hadn't stooped to calling him a traitor, and was still talking to him.

You only know what you have when you lose it.

He hadn't noticed how attached he'd come to the camp and the people in it. It was as like a second home – although, since he hadn't been back to his father's palace since before the business with Gaea started, it was like his only home – and he'd gotten used to having somewhere he could just rock up without awkward questions and have a roof, food and clean clothes. Being able to practise sword fighting, skeleton summoning and umbra-kinesis was another bonus.

He got on the train in a sort of haze that separated him from everyone else. It was like he was enclosed in an invisible, impenetrable glass box, where no one could hear or see him. They were completely separate from him, other. He could never reach them, just as they could never reach him.

He was alone. And it was crushing him.

He didn't really register anything above the mechanics of not walking into people. At the same time he was hyper-aware of everything around him. Every noise was like the clang of swords, the hisses of dracaena, or the rushing of water.

And the moment was gone. The Weasley twins apologized lightly for bumping into him, before turning to crack a joke with another Gryffindor.

Nico kept utterly still for a moment, grasping desperately for some semblance of self-control.

He was fine, it was over.

The train ride was long. He had found an empty carriage right at the back of the train, and sat staring unseeingly at the familiar landscape.

He was so tired. He'd give anything for a decent night's sleep. He pressed his face against the cool glass and closed his eyes.

The Resurrection Stone, Hufflepuff's cup, Slytherin's Locket, Harry's scar.

He didn't know how many more.

He had destroyed two Horcruxes already, but it seemed he was only moving further and further away from his goal.

He had mixed feelings when Blaise, Daphne and Tracy found him, about halfway through the voyage. They seemed to linger outside before coming in, apparently having a fierce debate and motioning at him. This lasted for ten minutes or so, before they eventually came in and sat down. Nico barely acknowledged them, and Daphne started an (obviously forced) cheery account about what she'd done over the summer.

"Dumbledore said you had had an accident and had left school early, but you never went to Saint Mungo's, I checked." Observed Blaise when Nott had finished regaling them of the Quidditch World Cup, and Nico still hadn't spoken. "Black escaped that night, so there were quite a lot of rumours that he'd killed you, if the werewolf Lupin hadn't bitten you first."

There was a pregnant pause. Nico glared at the Italian until the other boy flinched and lent back with his arms up in surrender.

"Well obviously the rumours of my demise have been greatly exaggerated." Tracy Davis sniggered. "If you must know, I got into an altercation with Granger and Potter. The Headmaster sent them off on some errand, and they dragged me into their mess."

Blaise nodded.

"They did seem overly distraught."

Nico rolled his eyes.

"It's nice to know they care."

"Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit." Daphne remarked primly.

"Sarcasm keeps me from telling people what I really think of them." Nico returned. The compartment laughed, and despite himself, Nico felt his spirits lift.

Granger looked like she was about to be sick when she saw him enter the Great Hall. Harry looked like someone had punched him, but that he hadn't really realized it yet.

Nico shoved past them when they loudly and forcefully demanded to talk to him. For Hades' sake, they'd accused him of being Voldemort's son, just because he dumped them after the Polyjuice fiasco of two, no three, years ago – which was Granger's fault.

He had known for a while that they'd been sniffing around, wanting to uncover his secrets. They had no right. It had come too close in the Shack. For a few heart stopping minutes, he'd thought he'd blown it. Now he was more determined than ever to stay hidden. Telling Blaise had been a mistake.

He was better off alone.

As they sat down, Blaise tried to draw the reticent Son of Hades into conversation, but Dumbledore stood up to announce the 'Triwizard Tournament', and that delegations from foreign schools would be arriving to participate. Nico didn't like the sound of that. A group of strange new students meant possible infiltration by monsters, and to a lesser extent, demigods. An international tournament also meant heightened security; any funny business would be dealt with harshly by either the police, or the press.

Nico didn't really listen to the rules, but in the end didn't need to. The loud protests (mocking taunts) reverberated around the Great Hall (never-ending abyss). It felt like the whole school resented the age limit. In the end, the demigod didn't care one way or the other, as he had no intention of being anywhere near any of the tasks. In fact, he was more than likely to be using the distraction to search for Horcruxes. He had a vague plan of conducting raids on suspected Death Eaters to see if they held any clues. If he knew where the Ministry of Magic was, he might try searching there. It wouldn't take long to determine if they held one or not.

At the moment he had no leads. Apart from Potter's scar, he had no idea where any of the Horcruxes were.

This quest is impossible.

He was in Tartarus, and the monsters had caught up. They were laughing at him, gloating at his weakness. He felt Dr Thorn come up behind him and he bit down hard to keep himself from crying out.

Nico woke up gasping. Panting, he tried to calm his ragged breathing and his racing heart. He closed his eyes, only to find the images he'd just escaped from seared into the back of his eyelids.

Flailing frantically, Nico retched over the side of his four poster bed, the acidic bile burning his throat. He'd give anything to have the disorientating, prophetic, information-laden demigod dreams. At least those were useful, and actually gave him some rest. These nightmares haunted him to such extent that he dreaded falling asleep.

He wanted to escape, but the memories followed him everywhere.

School was dull. There was no other word for it.

The days dragged. Every minute felt like an hour.

He'd already learnt Accio. He could perform it years ago.

Flitwick had been reluctantly impressed when he had asked Nico to perform the spell after noticing his inattention. He'd still assigned him detention, but did reinstate the points he docked when Nico proved that he could demonstrate both Accio, and it's opposite, the Banishing Charm.

"So you're a Charms prodigy now?" Daphne teased as they left.

"Did some research, came across it and gave it a go. Had a laugh banishing cushions at my cousin's face when he wouldn't shut up." Nico invented.

"You have a cousin?"

"…Yeah. Don't you?" he snarked.

Blaise gave him an unimpressed look.

"You never tell us anything about your family." Tracy pointed out. Nico felt an unexplainable surge of anger.

"Well, all my closest relatives are dead, or did you miss Malfoy's jibes about that?"

The girl reared back, hurt, but Nico couldn't find it in himself to care.

Nico had come to dread Defence against the Dark Arts. Professor Moody's eye followed him everywhere, and the teacher himself delighted in putting everyone on edge.

The first time he yelled 'CONSTANT VIGILANCE', he'd been directly behind them and Nico had shot off a curse in alarm. The teacher had retaliated by disarming, freezing and binding him, before seemingly coming to his senses. Then he gave a lecture about being always on guard and not acting rashly, though he complemented Nico on his quick draw and aim.

The demigod didn't see it that way, though in all honesty, he was lucky he had been holding his wand and couldn't easily draw his sword, or there would have been a lot of awkward questions asked.

The lecture on the Unforgiveables was informative of the power of magic. The idea that someone could take control and manipulate him like a puppet had Nico truly scared. Pain he could deal with, as nothing could compare to the soul-deep agony of Tartarus. Death he saw as a release. He was guaranteed Elysium; he had nothing to fear from Thanantos.

When Moody announced that he would be casting the Imperius curse on each of them, Nico was seriously asking if the gods had cursed him. Surely Tyche owed him a little slack?

Nico watched each and every person fall under the spell of the curse. He was reluctantly impressed that the tricks asked were embarrassing, but nobody's was any more humiliating than the others.

When it was finally his turn, Nico braced himself for something very unpleasant.

He felt slightly wrong-footed when a feeling of complete calm and serenity settled upon him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so content and at peace.

Kneel before me.

Nico wanted to obey, and could feel his limbs starting to move. He would do anything to keep the voice happy, and continue to feel equanimity and poise.

Kneel before me.

He jerked to a halt. He couldn't move further down. The previous feelings of harmony became disjointed when he began to panic at his loss of motor control.

Kneel before me.

No, he wouldn't. He didn't kneel to anyone except his father. What was this voice anyway? Why should he listen? He didn't want to. He wouldn't.

KNEEL!

"Get outta my head!" Nico shrieked, clutching his ears and, ironically, falling to his knees.

Nico didn't find any comfort in the fact that Harry also resisted the curse when the two were put through their paces over and over again.

He felt like a freak, but he wouldn't give Moody the satisfaction of seeing him succumb.

It had been a close thing, but the Defence teacher had made a fatal error when casting the Imperius the first time.

Nico had sworn on the Styx to only ever kneel in deference to his father.

The demigod had no illusions that if the professor had asked him for anything else, he wouldn't have thought twice. Indeed, he hadn't the first time. It had been the imminent infraction of his oath that had jolted him out of the trance.

He buried himself in Prophet editions from the seventies. He perused every edition and noted every name that even hinted at Dark, or anti-muggleborn, sympathies. He cross referenced them all with trials, the people that were convicted were circled. The ones that got off had an asterisk; very few were crossed out (like Sirius Black).

His every free moment was spent in this manner, sifting and filtering information.

The completed list had over two hundred names and had taken him a month of single-minded devotion, bordering on obsession.

Nico didn't mind.

When he was busy, he didn't remember.

The student body was lead out of the Great Hall at twilight, the day the foreign students were supposed to arrive.

There were many rumours about how they would get to Hogwarts, but all were shot down by friends and upper-years who knew more about the school's protections.

Nico wondered why nobody thought they'd be taking the Hogwarts express. Why overcomplicate everything? The Express brought the entire student body every year, why couldn't it manage forty odd exchange students?

"Look there!"

"What is it?"

"A dragon!" Someone suggested.

"A flying house!" A shrill voice piped up.

It was none of these, as a giant carriage drawn by a dozen flying horses landed on the soft turf in front of the school.

A very tall lady stepped out, helped by a boy who was obviously a student.

She made a beeline for the Headmaster.

Nico shifted closer to hear what was being said. Many students had started chatting to each other excitedly, wondering how Durmstrang would arrive.

"My steeds require - er - forceful 'andling," said Madame Maxime, looking as though she doubted whether any Hogwarts Care of Magical Creatures teacher could be up to the job. "Zey are very strong. . . ."

Dumbledore was prevented from replying by a loud resonating note. Nico froze. He recognized that sound.

The sound rang out as he and Reyna came into view of the camp. Everyone came running. Some were shouting and pointing, their faces condemning.

Some of the students screamed.

A giant Greek trireme was hovering directly above the castle. The conch shell sounded a second time. Nico could see people clad in orange and purple leaning over the side of the ship, before disappearing back on deck.

The ship sank steadily lower, until it hovered just above the ground.

"Thank you for flying Air Valdez, please remember not to take off your seatbelts until the fasten seatbelt sign has been switched off!"

"Leo!"

"What?"

A ladder was tossed over the side of the ship, and about twenty or so people disembarked. Nico recognized Morgana, Lou Ellen, and a couple of others from Hecate Cabin, as well as Rachel and most of the Seven, though Hazel and Frank were absent. Mercifully, Octavian didn't seem to have come either. The others were all in purple, so Nico wasn't surprised when he didn't recognize them.

A familiar dark haired boy wearing an orange T-shirt, khaki shorts and sandals stood forward and held out his hand to be shaken. Around his neck, Nico could see Camp Half-Blood's trademark bead necklace.

"Percy Jackson, Cheiron gymnasia tis mageías, and with me, the Iovem castra magiae, we're here to observe the, uh, Triwizard Tournament?"

Dumbledore and the other adults were looking at the group of demigods in shock.

Nico could hardly believe it.

Perseus Jackson, at Hogwarts.

Of all the rotten luck.

He'd come back to Hogwarts because his cousin wouldn't be able to follow him, and despite this, Percy had managed to do just that.

Nico found it hard not to admire his crush too openly. And he wasn't the only one. With a sleek swimmer's body, lean muscles and swirling sea-green eyes, many of the Hogwarts students were eyeing Percy appreciatively too.

"You are expecting us?" Percy asked, his hand lowering slightly, and his smile turning down.

"Ahem, no, we weren't. Things seem to slip in my old age. You're here for the Tournament?"

"Yes, I've er, got something… somewhere…"

Percy began patting his pockets, then began to search more intensely when he couldn't find what he was looking for.

"I don't care what they're doing here; anyone with a body like that can stay, especially with me." Lavender Brown swooned.

The Son of Hades rolled his eyes.

Annabeth came forward and cuffed him over the head.

"Seaweed Brain." She plucked a crumpled piece of paper from his left pocket.

Percy grinned sheepishly, and rubbed the back of his head where she'd hit him.

"Wise Girl." He retorted, fondly.

Nico heard Lavender curse the blond for taking 'the hottest guy, in like forever' off the market.

Annabeth smoothed the paper out and began to read.

"According to the official rules, to underpin the Triwizard tournament's ultimate goal of 'International Magical Cooperation', the ranking fourth and fifth European schools of magic may come and experience the others' teaching, and help marshal and steward the tasks."

She folded the sheet neatly, and continued.

"It seems we are the ranking fourth and fifth schools," Nico raised an eyebrow. Camp Half-Blood had moved to the US four centuries ago. "So here we are."

"Indeed. In that case, you must come in. Welcome. Welcome to Hogwarts!"

Percy nodded, and Jason called out to the rest of the demigods, who divided up. The ones from Hecate cabin as well as most of the Romans moved off in a group, while the ones left climbed back onto the ship and began unloading.

A burst of flame came from where the Hecate cabin had moved to, and Nico could hear clapping and murmurs of appreciation. Craning his head, he could just make out the outline of a Roman-style Barracks surrounded by buildings that Nico knew all too well.

There was a commotion by the lake, and many Hogwarts students rushed to look, allowing Nico a clearer view of what was going on.

"Percy!" Lou Ellen called.

The Son of Poseidon jogged over.

"We had a bit of trouble determining how much of Camp Half-Blood we needed to replicate from this side of the Atlantic, so instead of constructing one cabin, we, uh, did the entire area."

"Oh, okay. That's fine. Make sure to make a hearth in honour of Hestia!"

Lou Ellen nodded, and with a snap of her fingers, a small ring of stones appeared directly in front of the Roman building. With a flick of the wrist, a tepee of sticks was standing in the centre. Finishing with a flourish, the Daughter of Hecate swirled her arm in a spiral above the conjured wood, causing it to burst into flame. Nico thought he saw a flash of brown hair and warm eyes, but it was gone before he was sure he'd truly seen it.

The Hogwarts students, who had gradually come back over to see what was going on, began clapping again. Lou Ellen curtseyed, obviously loving the attention.

Nico melted back into the crowd and saw a gathering of students in red robes lined with fur. A lot of people were pointing at a man with a goatee, who was sneering.

"Didn't realize he was still at school…"

"…best seeker in the world…"

"Will he give me his autograph?"

"Me first!"

"Sooooo many hunks this year, it's going to be a-maz-ing!"

With a start, Nico realized that they were actually looking at the surly, duck-footed man standing next to the goatee.

Huh.

Nico didn't see the attraction.

Deciding he'd never understand females, he followed the crowd back to the castle.

Having seen the schools arrive, dinner in the Great Hall was buzzing with rumours of a 'Grand Entrance' where the visitors would put on a show.

Sure enough, when Dumbledore stood up and welcomed Beauxbatons, the doors were flung wide open, and a gymnast performed a running summersault. She was quickly followed by ten girls in formation shimmying into the hall, fluttering silk butterflies trailing in their wake. The boys escorted the Headmistress at the rear of the procession. The gymnast was obviously the main attraction and gave an impressive show.

They sat down primly at the Ravenclaw table, and it was obvious they didn't think much to their surroundings. They were shivering. Nico raised an eyebrow, disapproving. Clearly their silk robes did not preserve them from the cold.

Again, with Durmstrang, the doors burst open and a dozen imposing men marched in. Their wooden staffs sparked against the flagstone floor, and, as with Beauxbatons, a student broke away in a gymnastic routine. However, this time the finale consisted of blowing a fiery dragon out of a burning torch. They sat down at the Slytherin table, next to Malfoy and therefore very close to Nico.

The Greek and Roman camps, announced by Dumbledore as Chiron's gymnasia of magic and Jupiter's camp of magic respectively, entered together. They were in pairs, orange and purple, and Jason and Percy made the head of the line. It seemed that the Greeks at least were impressed by the castle, the Romans stayed stoic.

When the line had extended the length of the tables, all the lights went out.

There was a rumble of thunder, causing many in the Great Hall to scream. A figure stepped up and cracked his knuckles. He crouched down, before launching himself into the air, left arm outstretched.

A bolt of lightning was flung from his reaching fist, illuminating the ceiling and with a flash, the candles were relit and light was restored.

This received a thunderous applause from everyone in the hall (though Nico did note the sour looks on the foreign headmasters' faces, who felt they'd been shown up).

Percy clapped Jason on the back, and handed him an orange T-shirt. Jason laughed and chucked the other a purple one and they both put them on over their existing tops.

Nico heard Tracy groan quietly in disappointment.

The two finished by shaking hands and sitting at the Hufflepuff table, but not before Percy looked around the hall, his eyes locking onto Nico.

The other demigods sat down too, mostly at the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor tables, as that's where the most space was. Despite the leader's obvious closeness, the orange and purple sat apart. Nico noticed Morgana sit next to Ron, before a Durmstrang student started talking loudly about the 'intruding' schools.

"They should not haff come, this is Tri-wizard tournament. Durmstrang, Hogwarts, Beauxbatons. That is all. No outsiders."

"They are here to learn from us, Poliakoff. I think this is good Magical Cooperation." The one who'd garnered all the attention at the Durmstrang arrival retorted.

Poliakoff sneered, and loudly rebuked the other in Russian. It would have degenerated into an argument, if Malfoy hadn't begun fawning over the second man, who Nico finally understood to be an international Quidditch star.

Poliakoff flipped him one last insult, before turning to his compatriots and sniggering. A sixth year then distracted them by asking about how Durmstrang was run, the courses (focusing on the fact the Institute taught the Dark Arts) and the fact no muggleborns were allowed in.

Nico could have been wrong, but he thought he saw a flash of resignation on the celebrity's face before he smoothly answered all of the blonde's insipid questions.

"Of course nothing can compare to flying a broomstick, surely you agree, Krum?"

"I haff travelled much using apparition, portkey and floo, and yes I much prefer brooms."

"But Malfoy, you haven't tried riding any flying magical creatures, so you can't be so sure. I say while brooms are very well and good for short trips, if you want comfort, carpets are much better. It was a pity when they were banned."

"Why would I want to ride a filthy beast?" Malfoy sputtered, indignant.

"Perhaps you shouldn't, given that you don't know not to insult Hippogriffs where they can hear you." Nico replied smartly. The Durmstrang students turned to look Malfoy heir with incredulity and derision.

"I wouldn't be so smug, di Angelo. You could barely get your broomstick off the ground before running away in terror, what would you know about flying?" Malfoy spat back.

"I've ridden a Thestral." Nico retorted, not exactly fibbing, as he had ridden one, just not flown. "And I quite enjoyed it. It was peaceful." He couldn't explain why he couldn't fly, but he wasn't about to take Malfoy's insults lying down.

The table hushed. Blaise coughed, obviously surprised that Nico would voluntarily share information.

There was a beat of silence.

"I thought you didn't take Care of Magical Creatures." Tracy asked finally.

"I don't."

"It is good point… di An-gel-o has made. I too like flying magical creatures, but I haff not ridden a Thestral."

"Only because you haff too much money and too much arrogance for studies." Poliakoff sneered.

"My grades are better than yours, Poliakoff!"

I'd just like to say that no demigod will participate as champion, if anyone has any doubts.

What do you think then? Love it, hate it, still too cliché? How do you feel about Nico now, or Krum's ostracization from the other Durmstrang students?

Please review!

Swiss