What If Nico di Angelo Found Harry In Cupboard & Son Of Hades Raised Son Of Death As Shadow Wizard

Welcome to another exciting episode on

Multiverse Harry. Today we're exploring

a captivating tale called What If Nico

D'Angelo Found Harry in the Cupboard and

Son of Hades raised son of death as

shadow wizard. Before we begin, if you

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And now the story awaits. Chapter 1. The

boy in the shadows, Nikico D'Angelo, was

having a spectacularly crappy day, even

before his father summoned him to the

underworld. The 19-year-old son of

Hades, had spent the morning fighting

off a pack of hell hounds that had

somehow tracked him to his apartment in

New York. His favorite jacket was torn.

His coffee hadn't even touched his lips

before it spilled across the floor

during the attack. And now his father's

skeletal messenger was tapping

impatiently at his window. Yeah, yeah,

I'm coming, Nico grumbled, flicking

monster dust off his black jeans. Tell

my father I'll be there in five, the

skeleton chittered its teeth in

acknowledgement before dissolving into

the shadows. Nico grabbed his Stigian

iron sword, strapped it to his side, and

headed for the nearest patch of deep

shadow in the corner of his living room.

Shadow travel was second nature to Nico

by now. He stepped into the darkness and

let it envelop him, feeling the familiar

cold rush as reality bent around him.

When he emerged, he was standing in his

father's throne room in the underworld.

Hades sat on his obsidian throne,

looking as cheerful as ever, which is to

say, "Not at all." The lord of the

dead's pale face was set in its usual

stern expression, dark eyes boring into

his son. "You're late," Hades said. Hell

hounds in my kitchen. Nico replied with

a shrug. What's so urgent? Hades leaned

forward, his black robe shifting like

shadows. Something unusual has appeared

on my radar. A disturbance in death

magic. Death magic? Nico raised an

eyebrow. Like necromancy? No, different.

This is old magic. Wizard magic. Nico

blinked. Wizards like Hecus followers?

Not exactly. There's an entire hidden

society of wand wielders, descendants of

Hecadus blessed mortals from millennia

ago. They've evolved their own culture,

government, schools. They keep to

themselves as do we. And you've never

mentioned this because Hades waved a

dismissive hand. It wasn't relevant.

Their affairs rarely intersect with

ours. But now something's happened.

There's a child in Siri, England, with a

most unusual connection to death. What

kind of connection? Nico asked, his

interest peaked despite himself. He

survived a killing curse. A what now?

Hades sighed. A spell designed for one

purpose, to separate soul from body

instantly. It's unblockable,

unservivable. Except this boy lived. And

more than that, he's carrying a soul

fragment that isn't his own. Nico's eyes

widened. That's not possible. And yet

here we are. I want you to investigate.

Find this boy, determine what happened,

and report back to me. If necessary,

take action. What kind of action? Hades

expression darkened. Whatever is

required. Death has rules, Nico. Even I

must follow them. Great. Cryptic as

always. Fine. Where in Siri am I

looking? Number four, private drive.

Little winging. The boy's name is Harry

Potter. Nico nodded, then hesitated. Why

me? Why not send one of your furies? For

a moment, his father's expression

softened, barely perceptible. But Nico

caught it. Because this involves a

child, and despite everything, you have

compassion. Sometimes that's necessary.

Nico didn't know how to respond to that

rare almost compliment, so he just

nodded again. I'll leave right away. Be

cautious. Hades warned. The wizarding

world has its own gods and monsters. And

the boy, he's famous among them. The boy

who lived, they call him. Catchy, Nico

muttered. Anything else I should know?

He's 7 years old. And according to my

sources, he lives with his mortal

relatives. His parents were murdered by

the same dark wizard whose spell

backfired. Got it. Child death magic

soul fragment wizards. Just another

Tuesday. Without waiting for a

dismissal, Nico stepped back into the

shadows. He had a long journey ahead.

Shadow travel across the Atlantic would

take a lot of energy, but he could make

it with one or two stops. As the

darkness enveloped him, Nico couldn't

shake the feeling that this mission was

going to change everything. Little

Winging was exactly as boring as its

name suggested. Nico materialized in a

small cops of trees in a park as the sun

was setting. Grateful for the cover of

approaching darkness. Shadow travel

across the ocean had drained him, and he

needed a moment to catch his breath.

Number four, private drive," he muttered

to himself, pulling out a small map he'd

grabbed during his brief stop in London.

After orienting himself, Nico made his

way through the painfully ordinary

suburban streets. Each house looked

virtually identical to its neighbors.

Pristine lawns, neat gardens, shiny cars

and driveways. The whole place rire of

forced normaly. When he found number

four, Nico paused across the street,

studying the house. Nothing about it

screamed, "Magical child inside." But

then again, that was probably the point.

As night fell completely, Nico crossed

the street and slipped into the shadows

beside the house. His powers allowed him

to sense life forces, particularly those

close to death. But what he felt here

was strange, like two hearts beating in

one chest. That had to be the boy. But

the signature was coming from beneath

the stairs. Frowning, Nico moved closer

to the house, staying in the shadows. He

peered through a window and saw a large

man, a thin horse-faced woman, and a

pudgy boy who looked around the same age

as his target watching television in the

living room, but no sign of another

child. He circled the house, staying

hidden, until he reached a small vent

near the ground that seemed to connect

to the space under the staircase.

Crouching down, he listened. A small

sniffling sound reached his ears.

Something rustled like someone turning

over on a thin mattress. Freak. A

child's voice hissed as footsteps passed

overhead. The pudgy boy stomping on the

stairs deliberately. Dad says you're not

getting any dinner tonight either. No

response came from inside. Just more

quiet sniffling. Nico felt a surge of

anger. He'd seen enough. This wasn't

just a magical investigation anymore.

This was a rescue mission. He melted

back into the shadows and reappeared at

the front door. Taking a deep breath, he

knocked firmly. Heavy footsteps

approached and the door swung open to

reveal the large man whose face was

already turning an interesting shade of

purple at the sight of a stranger,

especially one who looked like Nico,

dressed all in black with his pale skin

and intense dark eyes. We don't buy

anything at the door, the man barked.

I'm not selling anything, Mr. Dizzley,

Nico said, drawing on the natural

intimidation that came with being the

son of Hades. I'm here about Harry

Potter. The effect was immediate. The

man's face went from purple to white in

seconds, and he tried to slam the door

shut. Miko's foot blocked it easily. Who

are you? Dley hissed voice lowered. What

of those? Those freaks. Let's talk

inside, Nico suggested, his voice

dropping to a dangerous whisper. Unless

you want your neighbors to hear about

your nephew. That did the trick. Dizzley

stepped back, allowing Nico to enter,

though his small eyes darted nervously

to the street to ensure no one was

watching. Vernon, who is it? The thin

woman appeared in the hallway, followed

by the pudgy boy who was eyeing Nico

with suspicious curiosity. Patunia, take