Nico, Voldemort's Older Brother (Being Rewritten)

Nico II

I heard a loud noise that sounded like a crack, so I went to go look. I crept through the halls, trying not to wake Percy or his mother, who had generously let me stay with them while I tried to get my weird life sorted out.

Just as I was about to dismiss the noise and go back to sleep, I heard the elevator make a quiet sound of announcement. I ducked into the shadows, watching for whoever was approaching.

"Are you sure this is where he is?" A voice whispered.

"Yes, I had Sirius spy on him," Came another voice, hushed and secretive.

  Spy on who? I wondered, using the shadows to make myself practically invisible, and walking closer.

"I still can't believe that You-Know-Who has an older brother!"

Another person? How many people were there? I wondered, contemplating pulling out my sword.

"Yes, Ron, he does have a half brother, Nico must be about eighty by now."

I smiled. If they were talking about me, they were in for a nasty surprise.

"It's a wonder Voldemort doesn't know about his brother yet.."

Who's Voldemort? I had a sister and a brother, but they're both dead by now. I wonder what happened to Tom though. I paused, I knew he wasn't dead, but that was all I knew. Maybe if I asked Hades the next time I saw him...

"It's still unbelievable that Voldemort has a brother! I bet he's evil too!"

I decided that I should confront them, I mean seriously! Who stands outside a person's door and talks about spying on them? What if they were monsters?

I pulled out my sword and shadow traveled to outside the door. When I arrived, I could barely believe my eyes. There were four people standing there all dressed in...robes?

I stepped out of the shadows and cleared my throat rather loudly, startling them. "What are you doing here? Other than trespassing, I mean." I drawled, raising an eyebrow.

"Ah!" One of the people screamed, it was a boy who looked kind of like Percy, but more scrawny with a lightning-shaped scar on his head.

"Who are you?" I asked calmly, hiding my sword in shadows.

One of the other people, an old man stepped up and held out his hand. "My name is Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, is there a Nico di Angelo here?"

I ignored his hand, "Yes, I am Nico." I eyed them suspiciously. "Why?" They didn't seem like monsters, but they also didn't seem like regular mortals.

The old man looked surprised for a moment. "Is there an older Nico? About eighty years old, perhaps?"

I shook my head, suppressing the urge to start laughing. "I am Nico," I repeated, just to mess with them. "Are you deaf or just exceedingly dense?"

The redheaded boy looked like he was going to strangle me, although I doubted it was physically possible for him to do so, he was so weak-looking. "We know you're Nico! Is your grandfather's name Nico?"

"No, why?" I enjoyed tormenting them. Perhaps I should take up pranking our campmates at Camp Half-Blood if only to see their expressions. If their expressions were half as good as these people's, it would be worth all of the counter-pranks.

"Because we were told Nico di Angelo was here," The girl said equally calmly. She seemed like she would either be best friends or worst enemies with Annabeth.

"Yes, a Nico di Angelo is here," I wondered if they were hard of hearing.

They looked excited, so I obviously had to burst their bubble. "And he's standing in front of you."

"But—But that's not possible!" Scar-Head said. "Nico is over eighty years old!"

The girl smacked his arm. "This Nico must be a descendant of that Nico, which means he's also related to You-Know-Who!"

"First tell me why you want him, then I'll tell you where he is." I had no intention to, but they seemed interesting. Maybe I would get a funny story to share with my friends out of it. Will was always telling the funniest stories about the ways people landed themselves in the Infirmary—Although that may have been just as a warning to me—Perhaps I wasn't supposed to find it funny.

"Aha!" Scar-Head yelled. "So you do know him!"

I rolled my eyes, of course I would know myself. My expectation of their IQ was quickly dropping with each word.

"Nico, we're wizards. My name is Albus Dumbledore and the first Nico has a younger brother. His name is Voldemort, and he killed Harry's parents. He killed hundreds-thousands on his quest for immortality, we think you are also in danger." The old guy said.

How do I have another younger brother? Why is he trying to get immortality? I wondered if my life would ever be somewhat normal. Did Hades know about what's-his-name trying to get immortality? How was that possible? Is Moldy-shorts a demigod too? "Ok? And what does that have to do with me?" Reverse Psychology always seemed to work when trying to get information. Asking questions was actually quite counterproductive. If you just pretend like you don't know something, people will eventually get annoyed and tell you everything you want to know.

Sca—Harry looked really annoyed "Didn't you hear him! He murdered hundreds of people!"

And I technically murdered thousands of monsters. Would you like to compare notes? I thought snakily, "Yes, I heard you, but how does that concern me?" I asked, wondering if Percy was awake.

"Ha! I told you so, Dumbledore! He's evil! Just like his uncle!" The redhead shouted.

"Ron, you can't just go around accusing people of being evil." The girl said.

"But Hermione!" Ron whined—Hermione must be the girl's name! "Didn't you hear him? He didn't care his uncle murdered hundreds."

"Hmmmm...." Was Hermione's reply, she was looking at me the same way Annabeth looks at someone she's trying to figure out.

"Anyways, because your ancestors were wizards, you are also probably a wizard. You should come to Hogwarts with us, also you will be safe from Voldemort if he comes for you." Dumbledore said.

I crossed my arms, giving Dumbledore an expectant look. "And why do you think I need protecting?" I could protect myself perfectly fine.

"Maybe because the world needs to be protected from you?" Harry muttered.

I pretended not to hear that. "So long, people." I started walking away.

"Stupefy!" Harry yelled, pointing a wooden stick at me. It looked like something he picked up from the ground.

Hermione was looking at Harry with a scandalized expression as if he had done something he wasn't supposed to do.

I turned around. "Was that supposed to do something?" I asked, tilting my head.

"What! How did that not work?" Harry blustered.

Dumbledore sighed, "Wingardium Leviosa!" He pointed a—seriously, another stick—? at a chair, and it floated towards me.

Before I could do anything, I felt a throbbing pain in the side of my temple and blacked out.