Nico's dreams begin to affect his reality, and the reality of his friends.

Chapter Rating: Mature

Content Warning: Cursing, Violence (mild), Self-Harm

Word Count: 4941

Can I just mention how much I love that title?

And all the characters are owned by J.K. Rowling, or Rick Riordan.

"One last time," Teddy commanded. For the millionth time that night, Nico stepped forward. His eyes burned, his muscles screamed, his body dripped with sweat... Beyond exhausted, he rubbed his eyes and took a deep breath, forcing the tremor in his hand to lessen. The best way to get some rest would be to do what Teddy asked, instead of arguing with him. Nico knew that from experience. "Go on, Nico. Then you can go to bed."

"Sleep..." Nico sighed.

Teddy laughed at Nico's wishful tone of voice. "You sound like I'm torturing you."

"You are torturing me."

They stood on the grounds of Westover Hall, where there was more space. The late afternoon sun allowed for perfect vision, with a dull, cloudy sky to keep its heat away. Every night's visit to Westover had had that weather; maybe Teddy could control it somehow? The school looked abandoned too; no students ran around the grounds like in Nico's memory, no belongings littered the grass. Nico could only see the expanse of green lawn, with the dorms on one side and cliffs on the other.

Teddy decided to train Nico outside on the first day of practice, to allow for more space. Since Nico was pretty handy with a sword, they'd focused on defensive moves, like this one. That meant they hadn't needed any monsters to practice on. But, Nico wondered about the day they might want to test Nico's skills. Was Dr. Thorn somewhere in the school? If he was, he would likely be his opponent. The son of Hades didn't know how to feel about that.

"Go on, Nico. One last time."

As he took a deep breath through his nose, Nico raised his arms to waist level. He drew his hands back, feeling a familiar sensation of raw energy building in his forearms. When the air in front of him grew electric, Nico thrust his arms out, palms parallel to his face, shouting "Protect me!" in Ancient Greek. From the middle of his palm, a seemingly endless, thick darkness poured out. It quickly surrounded Nico's entire body, the barrier solidifying inches from his face. "Expand!" Nico commanded, and the shadow shield responded immediately. It moved farther in all directions, only stopping only when it reached Teddy, ten feet away.

"Hold it!" Teddy instructed. Nico did, each second draining more and more energy from his body. Teddy pulled out his wand and shot a few spells, ending with the green Avada Kedavra. The shield held, despite Nico's level of exhaustion."And... release!" Nico's knees buckled the moment he lowered his arms. Smiling from ear to ear, Teddy walked over to Nico, who was collapsed on the grass. "That was incredible! Nice work!"

"Mmmmm," Nico groaned, and curled up in a ball on the grass. "Sleep now. Talk later."

"Have it your way. See you tomorrow night."

The night was wet and windy. Two children, dressed up as pumpkins, strolled across the sidewalk. Even the shop window looked decorated, with the glass covered in paper spiders. Nico laughed at the irony. Why should people who didn't believe in magic honor its holiday? But his laugh was not his laugh, rather, it came out cold and cruel like Kronos's. With his feet gliding along the dark sidewalk, he felt an air of purpose about him, a sense of power, of righteousness. He was looking forward to the evening's events; he'd been waiting for this moment a long time...

"Nice costume, mister!" A boy's voice called out to him, but fear clouded his innocent face when he glanced beneath Nico's hood. Smile gone, he turned and ran away... Nico touched the wand in his cloak pocket. With one flick, the child would never reach his mother... but Nico could never. Instead, his silent footsteps brought him to a cottage, eyes peering into a window over a dark hedge.

He saw them in their little living room, the young family. A tall, black-haired man with glasses. A curly-haired toddler in blue pajamas. The father made puffs of colored smoke erupt from his wand while his son laughed, grabbing at it with his small fists. A door opened and there she was: a robin-haired woman with bright eyes. The father picked up his son and handed him to his mother, then threw his wand on the sofa. He stretched, yawning...

The gate creaked a little as Nico pushed it open, but no one heard. Nico's hand--as foreign as his laugh--took the wand out of his cloak pocket and pointed it at the door. The door burst open with a crack, and Nico strolled inside as the father sprinted into the hall. It was too easy, he hadn't even grabbed his wand off the couch...

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!"

Nico laughed. Hold him off? Without a wand? "Avada Kedavra!"

Effervescent green light filled the hallway, and the man fell like a puppet with cut strings... he was dead before he hit the floor. He could hear the mother screaming from upstairs, trapped like the animal she was. He walked up the steps with calm and ease, loving the thrill of the chase. The melody of the mother dragging furniture to create a barricade became his mantra...

The chairs and boxes piled against the door blew apart with a wave of his wand. Nico saw her, her son in her arms. When she saw Nico, she dropped the child into the crib behind her and tried to shield him. It was as though she thought he would kill her instead of her son if he couldn't see the child.

"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!"

"Stand aside, you silly girl... stand aside now."

His voice wasn't his own. It was higher pitched, as cold and cruel as his laugh. There was no warmth, no emotion, only contempt, and disgust.

"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead--"

"This is my last warning--"

"Not Harry! Please... have mercy... have mercy..."

"Stand aside."

"Not Harry! Not Harry!"

"Stand aside, girl!"

"Please--I'll do anything--"

"Avada Kedavra!"

The green light hit her square in the chest, and she fell like her husband had. The child didn't cry, not this time. He stood up, clutching the bars of his crib, and he looked up at Nico's face with interest. Did he think that it was his father under the cloak, making more pretty light? That his mother would pop up any moment, laughing?

He pointed the wand at the child's face. Green eyes fell on the face under the cloak, the sight bringing hysteria to the toddler's eyes. He'd seen that it wasn't his father.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Nico woke with a start. He stared at the outline of his hand in the dark dorm room, thanking every god he could think of when he recognized it as his own. Beads of cold sweat dotted his forehead and brow, and it wasn't from the hard training with Teddy. He'd had bad dreams before, they were part of the demigod job description, but this was a little harder to digest. He needed help, to talk to someone, to figure out what Hades--if he'd even sent the dream--wanted Nico to take from it. For all he knew, trapped in that night was the secret to the quest's success. But, Nico couldn't make himself think about the dream, much less process and dissect it.

His iPod said it was 3:36 AM, which meant it was around eleven at night in New York. There was a pretty good chance that Will would be awake, or Jason. If they were both asleep, it was only seven in San Francisco, so Hazel, Reyna, or even Frank were options, too. He'd want to try Will first, because he knew more about the followers of Hecate than his friends or sister. Anyone else would need long explanations Nico didn't feel like giving, plus they might get protective after they found out about the whole boggart attack thing. With Will, at least Nico had a better shot at actually talking about the dream.

That plan in mind, Nico tiptoed out of bed and into the bathroom, where he sent the IM. The image shimmered to form Will, closing up the Big House's infirmary for the night. "Hey, Will!" Nico called. At the sound of his voice, Will turned, revealing a pleasant smile.

"Hey!" Will greeted him. "What's up?"

"Dream. Mind if we talk?" At Will's nod, Nico launched into the story. It was easier to keep talking after he started, as long as he didn't think about the actual people in the dream. For that reason, he called them "Dream me", "the father", "the mother", and "the child", or "his/her son". But, Nico couldn't keep their identities a secret forever; their identities were the root of Nico's problem with the nightmare. "The father, he looked almost exactly like Harry Potter. And, I know the mother called her son 'Harry'. I think... I think I just saw Harry's parents' murder."

Will took a second to process everything. He had his 'thinking face' on: pursed lips, furrowed brow, eyes darting around the room. He sighed slightly before he opened his mouth to speak. "I don't know what to say, Neeks. Who do you think killed them?"

"Don't call me-- oh whatever. I think, well this is going to sound stupid, but I think it was Riddle. You know, Tom Riddle."

Will's eyes widened. "The guy you're after? He tried to kill a toddler?"

"He's a cold-blooded murderer. You have to be, to create horcruxes."

"But... are you sure? Did you see the dream you's face or--"

"I can't explain it, Will, it's just a feeling I have. But, I mean, it makes sense, thinking about it. My father told me that there's this second prophecy, one from Hecate. It says that Harry's going to kill--or at least play a big role somehow--in Riddle's death within the next two years. If Riddle found out about that prophecy, especially at the height of his power all those years ago, what's to stop him from trying to defy fate? Heroes try that all the time."

"But, if he's so powerful, why did he fail? If that's really Harry and his family you saw, Harry didn't die."

"The mother. The blessing of a mother is a powerful thing when it comes to magic. Sally's blessing saved Percy when he swam in the Styx, it was her love and will for him to survive that made it so. When Harry's mother begged Riddle to spare her son, she effectively gave Harry his own blessing of life. That's what saved him, and that's what destroyed Riddle the first time. He should've died right then and there, but he didn't because of his horcruxes; that was his first defiance of Hades. But, that's beside the point. I can't understand why my father, assuming it's him, sent me this vision. I thought you could help."

"You said Hades wanted you to befriend Harry. Maybe he's trying to give you a look into his psyche?"

Nico rolled his eyes. "Psyche? Could you be any more of a dork?"

That got a teasing smile from Will. "Part of my charm."

Nico shook his head in mock disgust. Then, he got back on topic. "If that's what Father wanted, it didn't work. I just don't get it--if Riddle killed Harry's parents, why is he interfering with the quest? Wouldn't he want Riddle dead?"

"He doesn't know that's what you're looking for, Nico! If he did, I'm sure he'd stay out of your way. It comes down to that feud you two have; he's just looking for an excuse to fight you. He's suspicious of you because he knows so little, and he's clearly been through a lot."

"Just because he doesn't know my life story doesn't mean I'm evil or something."

"Well, I know that, but he doesn't. Maybe you had that dream so you could try and empathize with him."

"What? No!" Nico snapped. Rage boiled deep in the pit of his stomach. "After that boggart attack?! After everything Harry did to me?! I could never... he's not just some nosy brat, he's a horrible, violent person!"

"Yeah, but you know what it's like to be an orphan," Will pointed out. "You can't feel nothing, knowing what you know."

"I don't care what happened to him. He tried to kill me."

"If I remember correctly, you attempted to kill Percy once." The smugness of Will's voiced irked Nico even more.

"That was different! I was grieving, I blamed him for Bianca's death and--"

"Hasn't it ever occurred to you that maybe Harry's going through the same thing? We don't know him at all, maybe he lost someone too and is taking his anger out on you."

"I-- I can't believe you're taking his side!" Nico's voice was more full of hurt than he'd intended.

"I'm not taking his side, I'm just pointing out that--"

"That trying to murder me is justified?!"

"That people are complicated, and, maybe, just maybe, you've labeled him as a second Riddle, when he's just a kid like you." Will's voice had some frustration in it now, too. "If anything, your dream proves that we know nothing about him! I just think you should get all the facts before you start deciding he's a murderer! I mean, imagine if Percy gave up on you when you--"

"So you're saying I should forgive Harry Potter for trying to kill me."

"Nico, let me talk. I'm saying maybe the gods gave you that dream to try and get you to relate to Harry, to try and get to know him. You need Harry, your father said so himself."

Nico threw his hands up, enraged. "So now I'm not capable of doing this alone?"

"Stop twisting my words! I'm not saying that at all!"

"You're saying that exactly! What else does 'you need Harry' mean?!" Nico mocked Will's tone when he repeated his words, making Will's jaw clench with anger.

"Goodnight, Nico," he said coldly, and waved his hands through the mist.

"Thanks for nothing!" Nico shouted at the empty air. He stomped his way back to his bed to try and use up the rage-fueled adrenaline, not caring who he woke. He wanted to fight, he wanted to hurt somebody...

I want to hurt somebody? Where did that come from? That's not me... I'm acting like Clarisse!

It's because you love him.

It was that voice again, the small one Nico couldn't seem to get rid of.

You wanted Will to take your side no matter what. You wanted him to show that he loved you back.

"Shut up," Nico growled to himself. He didn't love Will Solace, he didn't. He couldn't love someone that would one day break his heart. As soon as he found out what Nico did when he was alone in the dark--the way he drew a blade on his arm, the way he loved to feel that pain, the way he lived for it--he'd dump him for someone else. Nico was a liar, he was a monster... The devil incarnate, as his mom would call that Italian leader after they were safe in America.

He could only imagine what Will would say if he knew: "How dare you lie to me!", "You monster, how is this what you call fun?", "I can't believe you would lead me on only to do this!", and a thousand other things that made Nico want to tear his hair out, scream, cry, and cut all at the same time. No, he couldn't let himself fall in love with Will. It would hurt too much.

The more Nico thought about it, the more Nico wanted to cry. He sat alone in the dark, Blackbird by The Beatles (his sadness guilty pleasure) playing in his ears on repeat, trying not to think about Will... and failed at that. Badly. The longer Nico thought about their fight, the worse he felt. He'd been an idiot, and might've just messed up one of the best things that ever happened to him. By the time four AM rolled around, Nico was lying face-down on his bed, crying into his pillow. Harry had done it again, he'd ruined another part of Nico's life.

Not him. You did.

And that thought depressed Nico more than anything else.

Eventually, Nico cried himself to sleep. His new dreams were only of Will, calling him out on his cutting and breaking up with him in a thousand different ways. He woke up around six; normally he'd send an IM home around now, but Nico knew that he shouldn't bother. Will wouldn't answer; he'd still be mad because of their fight.

"You look awful," Malfoy sneered. He was dressed, so he'd drawn open the curtains separating their beds. "I heard you crying last night, di Angelo. Thinking about all the people you're going to--"

That was as far as Malfoy got, because right then Nico slammed him against the wall with full force. At the bang, Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle woke up to the sight of Nico's sword against Malfoy's neck. "You think I'm playing around, Malfoy?! You think that I'm some weak little kid you can mess around with? Some stupid little student you can bully?"

Nico's face was inches away from Malfoy's. The follower of Hecate was silent, face white with fear. But, Nico was just getting started.

"You wouldn't last a minute where I'm from, Malfoy. Where I come from, everything and everyone wants to kill you, everything and everyone betrays you. You learn pretty quickly that you're all you got. You either defend yourself or die trying, and if someone's there to help you, it's a miracle. I've been through more shit than you can even believe, more shit than you can even imagine. My mother is dead. My sister is dead. I'm the last di Angelo standing, and I'll tell you why. It's because I have no problem getting rid of anyone who stands in my way. So shut the fuck up and leave me alone, you got that?!"

Malfoy nodded vigorously, and backed away slowly, mumbling half-assed retorts to try and save face. Once he and his two goons were gone, Blaise found Nico's side, wide-eyed. "What in Merlin's name was that? Why did you say that to him?"

Alone now, except for Blaise, Nico didn't care about showing strength anymore. He plopped on his bed in silence, still staring at the spot on the wall where he'd pinned Malfoy. "He couldn't get away with that boggart." Nico's voice was empty and emotionless. He sounded tired; he was tired.

"Are-- are your sister and mom... are they really, you know, dead?" Nico nodded, and a look of understanding appeared on Blaise's face. "That girl, the one in the green hat. That was your sister, wasn't it?"

Nico nodded again. "Bianca di Angelo. She died when I was ten."

They were both quiet for a little while. Blaise needed processing time, and Nico couldn't help but think about all his dead loved ones. He had so many, too many. Finally, Blaise broke the silence. "Malfoy said you were crying last night. What happened?"

Nico lied down on his bed, staring at the ceiling with his hands on his chest. "Will and I had a stupid fight. I just... I'm afraid it's gonna break us up."

Blaise walked over to Nico and sat down next to him, hand on shoulder. "It won't. I promise."

"Blaise?" Nico asked, his voice weak, "Can you make something up for me? I don't feel like going to class today."

"Sure, Nico. I'll get Hestia to think of something. Want me to bring you breakfast?" Nico shook his head, prompting Blaise to find Hestia. All the death and grief and anger on his mind was too much for him. The second he was alone, the black towel was out, his arm was cut, and the ambrosia was applied after repeating 'sixty' a thousand times. Then, he made his way back over to his bed, rolled over, and let tears the fall.

Why do I always mess up every halfway decent thing that ever happens to me?

It didn't help that Do You Hear the People Sing started playing on Nico's iPod the moment he closed his eyes.