Nico should've known that the tense balance of suspicion and acceptance he had with Potter would tumble eventually - and it was all Percy's fault.

"Figured out the egg yet?" he asked Harry, whose eyes narrowed.

"If I had, I wouldn't tell you," Harry retorted, scowling back down at his book. Nico took that to mean no, he hadn't even looked, and laughed softly.

"Sì. I haven't either," he offered. "Mind if I sit?" Seeing as the boy-who-had-a-soul-stuck-in-his-forehead didn't reply, he made himself comfortable. It didn't take long for Harry to crack under the silence.

"What do you want?" he snapped. Well, there were lots of things he wanted: to go home, spend time with Hazel; Bianca back, and not in a convoluted, reincarnated, way; a platonic date to the Gods damned Yule Ball, but he settled on a shrug.

"Trying to avoid the responsibilities tied to being an ambassador of my school," he mused. They reached a quiet understanding, and continued with their work. Potter was frantically scribbling out a Potions essay, and Nico was flipping aimlessly through a Charms textbook, when the air in front of him shimmered, and Percy's IM came through. Harry may have been an oblivious mess, but even Nico had to admit that this was pretty damn obvious.

"Nico!" Percy screeched. He was backed up by Reyna and Hazel, both of whom looked vastly unimpressed. "You've been ignoring my messages for weeks!" The plan to tell Harry that they were students from school and this was their messaging system fell apart as quickly as it had formed when Percy spoke English with an American accent.

"That's because I'm-" he began to argue, but Percy cut him off.

"I don't care if you're on a mission for your dad!" he exclaimed. "Just let us know you're okay!"

"I'm alive," he retorted, swiping through the IM. His mind raced to form a suitable cover story to explain this whole thing-

Potter had gone.

"Di Immortales," cursed Nico.

Harry had jumped through at least six conclusions between the library and the Gryffindor Common Room. None of them were good, and all but one linked to Voldemort. He was sure Hermione would have some way of explaining it away, but at least Ron would back him up, now that they were mates again.

Crashing into the tower, he saw that it was surprisingly empty. It seemed that only the Fourth Year students had a free hour, and he found Hermione quietly scolding Ron as he copied her essay - unsurprisingly, the very same Potions homework Harry had been doing moments earlier.

"I think di Angelo is working for Voldemort and might be his son and we need to tell Sirius," he said in one exhale. Hermione and Ron stared in blank confusion for a moment, before both trying to speak at once.

"Bloody knew it!" Ron exclaimed, at the same time as Hermione's cry of "he's perfectly nice! What makes you think that Harry?"

"I was sat with him in the library," he explained under his breath. The Common Room was quiet, but they had received some curious glances from Seamus and Dean, who returned to their game of exploding snap. "Then there was this... it was like a projection, of a boy and two girls- they said something about him being on a mission for his dad - does that sound suspicious?"

Not even Hermione's cool, calm logic could deny that it sounded bad, but she was loathe to suspect the wrong person in this, like Professor Snape in their First Year.

"Did you ask him about it?" Hermione finally asked.

"Merlin, no. If he was a Death Eater, I wasn't sticking around."

As Harry and Ron bounced a few more conspiracy theories between them, Hermione couldn't help but think that this was like their Second Year, but instead of Harry being vindicated, it was Nico.

Frustrated, Nico realised he was back to square one. He hadn't figured out why Potter had a soul stuck in his forehead, and he hadn't gotten any hints about the screaming egg. Realistically, he'd been bumped beyond square one back to square zero - Potter didn't trust him anymore, which made his role of 'protecting' the moron that much harder. Honestly, if there wasn't such an obsession with prophecies, his father would have had him kill the brat to destroy the soul shard, before tracking down the rest like a vigilante... soul hunter.

Instead, he was forced into some kind of deep cover, at a French magic school, where he would happen across people who would help his quest. People like Malfoy, who spent a lot of time grumbling about Weasels - enough that a mention of a diary being destroyed tipped Nico off to the existence of several fragments of this so-called 'Dark Lord''s soul floating around.

"He's not even Dark," Nico grumbled to himself. "Grey at best. Damn it."

"Hey there-" a voice said from behind him.

"How's it going little Dark Lord?" The voices came from a pair of redheads, who looked remarkably like the boy Potter spent his time with.

"...little Dark Lord?" Nico repeated, one eyebrow going up. For the first time in his life, he wished Antonio were with him. He was an absolute prat, but safety in numbers and all. He wasn't exactly allowed to whip out his sword at every sour moment.

The twins - who reminded him of the Stoll brothers - glanced at each other, before returning their attention to him.

"Well, you're quite short-" one offered.

"And there are rumours flying around that you're the son of You-Know-Who." Before he had a chance to reply that no, he did not know who, understanding dawned on him. There had been whisperings in the Underworld that Tom Riddle had put taboos on his name during the war that had ended in 1981. That would explain a lot - people would be scared to say his name because it would get them killed.

"I'm the son of Maria di Angelo," he managed to reply. "Although why it matters, I'm not sure."

The twins shared another glance, and Nico felt a growl build up. If only he was a natural legilimens like Jasper, he'd know exactly what they were thinking. They seemed to be chasing him in circles here; they wouldn't have cornered him unless they had something to say, but they didn't seem... forthcoming, exactly.

"We just wanted you to know about the rumours," the left one replied.

"-and don't drink the pumpkin juice at lunch!" With that, they hurried off, and Nico knew why a few moments later, when Marcus Flint sauntered around the corner. Despite technically being the same age as each other, Nico found it easier to spend time with Harry, Hermione, or even Malfoy, who were actually the same age as him. Gods the Lotus Hotel was a confusing thing.

"Hey, di Angelo, your friends said they'd lost you," he remarked. "What did the Weasels want?"

"Nothing," Nico replied, lips quirking up slightly. "Guess it's lunchtime, sì?"

After anyone who touched the pumpkin juice sprouted extra limbs they couldn't control, Nico, now flanked by Claudia, Fleur, and Antonio, headed outside to try and work with the egg, and to bemoan the coming winter. Christmas was just a week away - Claudia had reluctantly agreed to attend with a boy from Durmstrang, Fleur had a date with a Hogwarts boy (whose name completely escaped Nico), while Antonio and Rosalina had patched things up enough to go together. They were wandering the perimeter of the lake, which had yet to freeze over, while Antonio ranted in a mixture of Portuguese and English.

"The whole school is loco," he insisted. "I was talking to one of the girls, and they sort them based on their personality."

"How in Flamel's name could that end well?" murmured Fleur, shaking her head.

"I'm serious though, the green ones are ambitious, the blue ones are clever, the red ones are reckless idiots, and the yellow ones are fair."

"Sounds sort of stupid," Nico chipped in. "Wouldn't it make more sense to have one from each sharing a room?" The other three nodded their assent, and they arrived at the conclusion that Hogwarts was a strange school.

"History is taught by a ghost," said Claudia. "Of course, I'm not condoning rule breaking, but I thought Nico could..." she shot him a wicked smirk.

"Dear Head Girl," Antonio exclaimed, a hand on his chest, "are you suggesting Nico exorcise a teacher?" The Ghost King, unfortunately, was one thing Nico couldn't hide easily. It was fortunate that they all had quirks that made them prime competitors for their school - the Faustians were Seers, the Delacours were part-Veela, the Gigliones had an uncanny ability, like a weak Imperius charm, that could compel others to follow their orders. Nico's ability to cower fear into ghosts was something they all attributed to 'the di Angelo family magic'.

"Anyone want a shot with the egg?" Nico asked. Fleur hadn't had a chance to tinker with it, so she raised her hands and Nico tossed it to her.

"You said it sounded like screaming, oui?" The group nodded. Fleur cracked it open, and the sharp, high-pitched wails were emitted as usual. Nico, Claudia, and Antonio clapped their hands over their ears, but Fleur seemed to be listening intently.

After an agonisingly long time, she snapped it shut.

"It was Mermish," she announced.

"You're part-Veela - you could understand it, couldn't you? 'Cause Veela are water nymphs." Antonio said with a grin.

"Oui. You might want to write this down..."

Feeling oddly pleased that he had the answer to the riddle well in advance, he now had to figure out what exactly would be taken from him, and how in Poseidon's name he was going to be able to get into the lake.

Entering the Great Hall for breakfast, he was surprised to see that almost a third of the students were missing. It was the start of the Christmas holidays, he supposed.

"Oi, Angelina!" a voice called down the table next to theirs. "Do you want to go to the ball with me?" He realised with a start that it was one of the twins. Angelina consented, and the pair smirked to their younger brother, whose face was going as red as his hair.

Then, Potter made eye contact with him.

Offering him something close to a smile, Nico returned to his croissant. He'd decided that the best way to resolve the situation was to let Potter see that he wasn't going to kill him.

In the meanwhile, Nico rose from the table - there had been an odd prickling sensation down his spine any time he walked along the seventh floor, and he was convinced it was a soul-piece. He just needed to find out where it was...

Waving to Claudia, who was ready to accompany him, he told her in their native language that he was just going to explore.

As he slowly made his way up to the seventh floor, he mused, jumping over a step that looked particularly malicious. Why did a castle need so many floors, when they didn't have that many pupils, or classes? Why would a soul fragment be stashed here? Why did the Godsdamned staircases move?

He was loitering around the floor, but he couldn't seem to pinpoint the piece. It obviously had a vessel, or it would've vanished off by now, but the floor just seemed to have an abundance of the red students milling around, coming and going like- well, magic, Nico supposed. Tracing his hand along the rough, stone wall, he paced up and down the corridor.

"If I was a twisted, corrupted, fragment of a soul, where would I be hiding?" he grumbled to himself. To his surprise, a door appeared as he said that out loud, having paced the floor three times. He carefully swung the door open, and the room opened out into heaps of junk. Although his task had just managed to get a lot harder, he grinned. He had it now.

Whoops sorry I'm late. Exam season is here, and I also got stumped on how to write this chapter. I wasn't sure where I wanted to go with it. I'm pleased to say that I've found a direction, and I think I've decided on Nico's date to the ball, hehe. Anyway, keep an eye out, because hopefully the next chapter won't take me five months to write, because I'm officially plotting. See you next chapter! Don't forget to review!

- L'Angleterre