Running (Harry Potter/ Nico Di Angelo)

Confusion

Nico's dreams that night were probably filled with horrible memories and flashbacks, but thankfully his hangover distracted him from remembering them. That and when he woke up he had no idea where he was.

Nico rolled over in the queen-sized bed and groaned as his eyes tried to flutter open. Then he realised that he was in a bed, "What the— what?" He sobered up quickly and sat up, regretting it as soon as his head started to spin.

He massaged his temples briefly and looked around the mysterious room. Bookshelves lined the wall at the foot of his bed, with bedside tables flanking him and an old-fashioned vanity/dresser to his left. The two windows to the right of him were letting in plenty of daylight, and Nico had a faint thought of what time it was.

Nico sat up fully, casting the twisted duvet off of him and planting his feet on the definitely very old rug.  He stood shakily, his brain swimming in the hazey hangover. He tried to remember where he was, who he had gone home with, etc. but couldn't remember anything past his rapid downing of rum.

The hallway he entered didn't clear up anything, and he was about to give up and just shadow travel out of there when he saw a note and two glasses on a table in what looked like the living room.

Nico-

Had to go to work early and didn't want to wake you. Here's some wit-sharpening potion and some water for the massive hangover you must have. I'll be back around two, but if you want to leave make sure the front door is locked.

Hope to see you around,
-Harry Potter

"The one who tried to arrest me?" Nico thought out loud as he turned the note over for anything else. Finding nothing, he picked up the so-called wit-sharpening potion and observed it. It was a burnt orange color and had a smell that Nico couldn't place but he just shrugged and downed it. If Harry had wanted to drug him then he'd had time to do it last night, might as well trust him.

He downed the water to try and get the funky taste out of his mouth but to no avail. His hangover lightened, however, and he wondered what other potions wizards had come up with.

Than he was caught with a dilemma— should he stick around for Harry to come home or leave? It was going to be weird either way, but this was the first house he'd been invited into in a long time...

Turns out that he didn't have time to make that decision, for as soon as he put the glasses back down he heard voices from the entryway and a lock at the front door. Panicking, he slipped into the shadows and hid himself from sight.

"—Harry, what are you going on about? You're the one who suggested we stop here for a bite to eat!" A masculine voice asked, his accent popping through. Nico slinked further into the shadows as he saw them enter the living room.

Harry looked as dishelved as ever, and the ginger man next to him didn't look too much better (although that looked to be his natural state, while Harry was still clearly hungover).

"I just remembered the place is a mess and that I'd rather not—" Harry tried convincing him, but gave up as the man started to walk down the stairs. Nico popped out of the shadows momentarily to talk to Harry.

"Guess that's my cue to leave?" Nico said, his voice lowered.

Harry about jumped out of his skin but relaxed when he saw who it was, "Oh, hey, you're up."

"Yeah, I just woke up. Thanks for the potion, and for letting me crash last night. I must've been hammered." Nico cradled his head again to try and get the remaining headache to leave.

"Id say more than hammered— you downed at least two full bottles of that rum," Harry cut himself off as he heard the other man shuffling around downstairs.

"I'll be off then, thanks again Harry," Nico said as he melted into the shadows and ran off once again.

~

Harry rushed downstairs after a moment of staring after Nico, very aware of how suspicious he must seem to Ron. The same Ron who was currently serving himself some of Harry's leftover pizza.

"So who's the bloke?" Ron asked him with a mouthful of pepperoni.

"Who?" Harry tried to play off, going into the fridge to try and hide his horrible poker face.

"Oh please, I heard you talking to him upstairs. Who's the bloke?" Ron asked again, staring down the back of Harry's head waiting for an answer.

"He's no one, I found him wasted at the bar last night and offered him a place to crash." Harry tried to brush off again, very aware of a blush creeping on to his face.

"You let a drunk stranger crash in your house?" Ron scrunched his eyebrows at him.

"He's not a stranger, I've met him before. Look, it's not important—" Harry was heavily trying to evade the topic to no avail.

"Where'd you meet him before?" Ron asked, now just doing this to be nosey.

"Just out on the streets Ron it doesn't matter, honestly" Harry gave up trying to hide his face and grabbed the last slice of pizza from the fridge.

Ron held his hands up in mock surrender, "Sorry, sorry. And you could just call him a hookup, I don't mind."

"Just— Ron?" Harry sighed, very clearly fed up.

"Hmm?"

"Shut up."

~~

And this story's back, woot woot! Sorry for the long hiatus, it wasn't intentional.

If you're a fan of this story, I recommend A Wonderful Disaster (A Drarry Fanfic) and The Lost Potter which are other HP fanfics I've written and completed! They're both on this account and are 35+ parts, they're pretty hefty.

Anyway, please leave feedback, and I hope you enjoyed!