Son of Voldemort

Chapter Two

Nico's POV

I'd been in London a week now. I'd been staying in an apartment, or 'flat' as the British call it, with Hecate who was pretending to be my mother.

Father had blessed me, fixing my dyslexia, giving me a British accent, and giving me the ability to talk of my past like it had actually happened.

When I walked out of my room on the eighth day, I saw Hecate, pretending to be a forty-year-old Italian woman, speaking with a man who had long, platinum blonde hair, a woman who had mostly brown hair with some blond in it, and a boy about my age who could only be their son.

They were speaking civilly to Hecate, drinking the tea that she had most likely made for them.

"Ah, Nicky," Hecate saw me as I walked into the room, dressed in a black tank top and sweatpants, "These are friends of your father."

I widened my eyes in false shock, but pretended to quickly snap out of it. "Pleasure to meet you," I said, shaking the hand of the older man. "I'm Nicodemus, but please, call me Nico."

He gave me a wide smile. "Pleasure's all mine," he said, then introduced himself and his family. "I'm Lucius Malfoy, this is my wife Narcissa, and our son Draco." I shook their hands as they were introduced.

"So what brings you around?" I asked as I stuck my hands in the pockets of my sweatpants.

Hecate answered. "They say that they know where you father is and that he would like to meet you, officially," she said, playing the part of the innocent witch. "You don't have to go if you don't want to," she started and I saw the eye's of the Malfoy's widen, "but you have always been curious about him, so I think it would be best if you do so you can get all your answers. But it is up to you." She was playing her role perfectly. Now it was time for me to play mine.

I pretended to think about my answer for a moment and I could feel three set of eyes on me, begging. "Yeah," I said, "I want to meet him. I think it would be nice to get my answers."

Everyone thought it best that I spend the week with my so-called father, and I agreed, so I went to my room and pretended to pack up my stuff that was still packed, and I walked back into the living room carrying my backpack and duffle bag. I was fully dressed now, wearing a black shirt with a skull on it, a light leather jacket (I ran a few degrees colder than mortals) and black, ripped skinny jeans. My hair was pulled back in a ponytail, unlike earlier when it had been shaggy and in my face.

As I told my 'mother' goodbye, she looked up at me, cupped my face, pulled me down half a foot to her level and kissed my cheek, telling me to behave. I promised her I would and she smiled, sending me on my way.

As we walked out of the apartment, Lucius stopped by by putting his cane on my chest as I started to walk down the hall. He didn't do it roughly, but it was enough to stop me. "I have what might come across as an odd question for you," he said to me and I faced him and smiled.

"What is it?" I asked and he spoke.

"Do you know what a muggle is?" He questioned and I shook my head.

"No, sorry, I don't. Just like I don't know that we're all wizards and my father is He Who Must Not Be Named." I spoke sarcastically and the three looked at me in shock.

"You knew?" Draco asked.

I looked at the slightly shorter boy. "Of course I knew. It wasn't that hard to put together given my mother told me my father's name was Tom and my last name was Riddle. All it took was a few questions to my teachers at Durmstrang and my questions were answered. I'm just thankful that you didn't let my mother in on any of this. She thinks that my father was just a random wizard that she ran into at a pub. She's completely oblivious of everything and I want to keep it that way." They were all still staring at me. "Now," I said, "we can either stand in this hallway looking like idiots or we can apparate wherever and I can meet my father."

"Of course," Narcissa said, placing her hand on my shoulder. "Prepare yourself," she said sweetly. "Don't forget to breath."

We disappeared with a loud 'Crack!'