The Coming of Nico di Angelo

Sitting in a Room, Without Talking... for 15+ Hours

CHAPTER SUMMARY

The demigods prepare for the final battle with Tom Riddle.

BEGINNING NOTES

Chapter Rating: General Audiences
Content Warning: None
Word Count: 2198

Thanks again to Addie, who posted Thursday's chapter!

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

Credits at the end.

____________________ANNABETH____________________

The night of December 29th, nobody slept.

It was the calm before the storm; Annabeth knew that time better than anyone else in the room. How many battles had she fought by Percy's side? Or on her own, during those years he attended school and she lived at Camp Half-Blood year-round? That feeling, waiting for something to happen, for someone to die... it was far more traumatic than any battle could be.

It was like Alfred Hitchcock's definition of suspense. If four people are locked in a room and find out there's a bomb ten seconds before it goes off, sure, it's horrible not being able to do anything, but they never get the time to dread their demise. It never sinks in. When those same people are locked in the same room, but find out about the bomb thirty minutes before it goes off, they have time to search, just to find it five minutes to the slaughter. And they tear it apart, try to defuse it, but realize after just two minutes of work that there's no hope. Three minutes left now, for them to cry and kiss and scream as they realize they're about to die.

Then... kaboom!

Annabeth felt like the characters in Hitchcock's movies now, sitting and waiting to die. She sat in that godsforsaken room, waiting for Harry to reappear, waiting for Nico to send some kind of message from wherever he was, waiting for Chiron or Dumbledore to tell them someone had done something.

They didn't talk. They didn't move. Annabeth longed to curl up in Percy's lap, for no other reason than the comfort of touch, but it would feel too out of place. Not inappropriate, just... not right.

December 29th, 2:00 p.m. - Ron brought Lou Ellen into the Room of Requirement.

December 29th, 3:00 p.m. - The meeting ends. Harry's a horcrux. He has to die.

December 29th, 11:00 p.m. - Everyone starts to lose hope he's coming back.

December 30th, 12:00 a.m. - Two days left until the world ends. Forty-eight hours.

December 30th, 3:00 a.m. - No one has spoken or moved in four hours.

December 30th, 6:00 a.m. - Oh, look, there's the sunrise.

December 30th, 8:00 a.m. - Good gods, I'm acting like this is some spy thriller.

By noon, Percy's and her ADHD finally got the better of them, and they started pacing like mad. No one spoke or did anything that might prepare them... thirty-six hours to die was a lot of time to let the news sink in.

It was at three in the afternoon that something finally happened. There was a knock on the door, hesitant and soft. Percy and Annabeth exchanged a look--was it Harry?

Percy drew Riptide in case of a trick; Annabeth drew her drakon sword, and Ron's knuckles were white as he gripped the Sword of Gryffindor. Blaise, the biggest one of them, inched towards the door with trepidation.