Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Harry Potter, I do however own Isabella, Noemi, Adele, and this story line.
A/N: The language they are speaking is Italian and all phrases/words are the English translation to them, be gentle with this fanfic it is my first! Also I'm sorry my rhyming skills kind of suck. I'll try to have a chapter out a week if people are really into it, R&R
Prologue to Fa Battere il mio Cuore
Torrents of rain came crashing down upon the stilled hillside town of England, when a cloaked figure steadily made his way up the drowned knoll. It wandered through the street of the small town, unseen by onlookers. A mere shadow of the night, it came to a halt in front of a quaint cottage with a honey roof and deep mahogany walls. Laced curtains were drawn and shutters creaked against the windows as the wind blew terribly yet our cloaked figure was not deterred from the mission at hand. Time passed and the cold rain continued to fall as the figure waited patiently. Suddenly, a single light flickered on inside the house and the figure knew it was time. Slowly, yet confidently, it made its way to the large oak door that creaked open when a delicate hand from beneath the cloak tapped it lightly. The home was dark save for the small candle lit atop the window pane. The flame danced seductively in the stale air of the house, yet the curtains resisted temptation.
"I thought you would not come," spoke a smooth, accented voice from behind the cloaked figure. It turned to face the sound; a beautiful dark haired woman stood in the archway of the room with a small bag set beside her. Her long, dark hair curled effortlessly down her back and her tanned skin glowed in the firelight. Youth radiated from her thin body and her presence permeated the room. She held her gaze, her strong chocolate eyes never faltered and her delicate lips were parted as if frozen in a lost sigh. Yet behind her strong façade there was doubt. She had struggled for so long and now the answer she craved stood in front of her. The cloaked figure lowered its hood with pale hands to reveal a trusting gaze. His blue eyes twinkled and he smiled warmly.
"Help will always come to those in need," he cooed. She smiled a weak smile, still unsure of her future. They made their way out of the cottage and into the storm that would hide their presence for the journey. She looked back at the cottage and her first tear in so many years finally fell across her cheek. It wasn't meant to end this way, she thought as her tear was enveloped by the rain already streaking down her flushed cheeks. Neither spoke as they sloshed down the hill and into a nearby forest. She felt her bones shiver as the cold seeped into her heavy cloak. Her feet ached as they walked for what seemed like hours yet she dare not voice her pain. Slipping her icy hand under her cloak, she touched her belly and a renewed sense of purpose washed over her. Her determination would not let her succumb to the elements or her fears. Finally, the old man came to a stop and turned towards her. "I wish you luck Isabella, for whatever obstacles you face in your future." He smiled fatherly at her and she embraced the only man she had ever truly trusted.
"Thank you, for everything Professor. Non ti dimenticero mai" I will never forget you. With that, she faced an old picture fame sitting on the forest floor. Before she bent down to pick it up, however, she looked back once more—for one last look. The old man said something, yet she could not hear him through the rain. She recognized his smile though, and understood. Her hand slipped from under the cloak and lightly touched the rusted picture frame before being ripped away from a world she could not love anymore.
"Mama, mama!" screamed the little girl. She sat up straight in her oversized bed and yelled into the darkness. Her nightgown lay damp against her skin as the hot, humid air of summer wafted through the open window in her congested room. A woman ran into the room in a flowing, white nightgown and stunning dark hair flying behind her. She flew to her daughter's side and wrapped her loving arms around her, cooing to the crying child.
"Calma calma, non ti preoccupare tesoro," be calm be calm, don't worry my treasure. The woman stroked the little girl's soft dark curls and wiped the tears away from her troubled green eyes.
"Ma, il uomo! Lui mi vuole mama!" But the man! He wants me mama! The girl, who could not have been more than five, cried out and hugged her mother.
"Tesoro, era solotanto un incubo. Non ti preoccupare, non arrivera mai quell'uomo." My treasure, it was only a nightmare. Don't worry, that man will never come after you. She hummed to her daughter and slowly the little girl fell asleep. Placing her back down on her pillow, the woman kissed the girl's forehead lightly. She walked to the door and turned back to the sleeping beauty that was her daughter. No nightmares would bother her for the remainder of the hot night, and tranquility enveloped the room. The tall woman continued silently down the hall until she came to the dark kitchen. Sitting at the table, she began to cry.
"Isabella, che c'e?" what's wrong? Through her blurry gaze she found a familiar, warm face sit across from her. The old woman handed her a cup of chamomile and stared at her with concern.
"Oh mama," she gasped between tears, "non la voglio perdere!" I don't want to lose her! The old woman leaned forward and grasped her daughter's hand. The tears ceased to fall, as if by magic. Isabella gazed into her mother's dark eyes, identical to hers' but with much more wisdom behind them, waiting for any form of comfort.
"Figlia mia, devi dirla la verita." My daughter, you have to tell her the truth. There was a pause, as there was each time her mother said this to her. And just as each time before, Isabella shook her head.
"Stanotte no. E ancore piccola." Tonight no. She is still too young. With that, Isabella rose from the table and made her way back to her bed, knowing that sooner or later, her daughter would want to know the truth about their family, about Isabella's past, and about her destiny.
"Mama mama! Sprigati! Gia sono inritardo!" Hurry up! I'm already late! Isabella calmly walked down the stairs into the crowed sitting room in her parent's house. Her daughter, now eleven, jumped up and down with excitement with her cousin. They both laughed and spoke so quickly, Isabella couldn't even understand them. Isabella's mother, father, and two brothers stood waiting for her with smiles on their faces. Antonio, Isabella's oldest brother, was dressed in a dark suit and stood in the corner talking to one of the many men he worked with. They whispered and spoke rapidly, a cue to Isabella that there would be problems later tonight. Walking over to her daughter, she pushed those thoughts out of her mind, and smiled. My how she has grown, she thought to herself. No longer the small child that would cry at nightmares, her daughter now stood proud with her long, dark, curly hair and wild green eyes that where never up to any good. She had become her mother's daughter: ambitious, mischievous, and quick, maybe too quick for her own good. Isabella beamed at her daughter, never failing to be amazed by how much love she could have for her daughter.
"Ok ok, sei pronta?" Are you ready?
"Mama, sono stata pronta per undici anni, ANDIAMO!" Mama, I have been ready for eleven years, let's go! She jumped up and down with excitement and ran to hug her family goodbye. Isabella watched her daughter carefully, as she always did. Finally, when the two younger girls met, did she see her daughter lose a hint of her excitement. "Ciao Adele," she said to her cousin, her best friend, her other half. Adele was her age, but was her opposite in every way: cautious, timid, and passive. They were family, however, and Isabella was sure to teach her daughter the importance of family. They hugged and promised each other they would write from their respective schools; Adele had been accepted into the most prestigious school in Italy. When her daughter was finally ready to leave, Isabella hugged her strongly. After so many years of protecting her daughter in the city of Naples, Italy, she was finally leaving her to the world where Isabella had tried so hard to keep her from. The young girl held on to her mother, knowing how hard it was to be separated from her only daughter. She took in her smell and the smell of the last days of summer in the only home she ever knew. It was time, however, for her to explore the rest of the world.
"Ok, non dimenticare che appena arriverai, trovi il preside della scuola." Don't forget that as soon as you get there, find the headmaster of the school, her mother said in a stern voice. "E non fare la scema ok?" And be good, ok? Her daughter laughed and smiled widely spreading the dark freckles on her already olive skin. She nodded obediently but winked at Adele thinking Isabella had not seen. "Ti voglio bene tesoro," I love you my treasure.
"Pure io mama," so do I mama. With those last words, Isabella watched as her daughter disappeared behind the stone fireplace, and began to weep. Her mother and father embraced her as if she were a child again and told her not to worry. But Isabella knew that her daughter would learn things she had tried so hard to hide. She knew her daughter would grow into a young, beautiful woman while she was away and Isabella wasn't sure if she was ready just yet.
"Ahh, nice to see you arrived safely," said an old man as the young girl adjusted her senses in the new environment. She gazed questioningly at the man behind the half moon spectacles but did not mutter a sound. "Ahh yes, still haven't learned English quite yet," he said warmly. Though she didn't understand, she stood proud as her Italian heritage had taught her to and never took her eyes off the foreign man. He smiled at her and walked to her. After a few moments, he made is way to a fine oak door and beckoned for her to follow. She obeyed, knowing this was the man her mother had wanted her to see, but quickly took note of the room around her before leaving it.
They walked at a quick pace; obviously she was late for whatever it was they were in such a rush to get to. She disliked the cramped, stone hallways around her, craving the openness of the Villas in Naples. But she was excited to be here, and any doubts or fears she had about the new school soon faded away when the man ushered her into a great dinning room filled with students chattering away. They were loud and spoke in a language she did not know. All wore black robes, identical to the ones her mother had given her, yet they were all so diverse! She noted some were darker than she, while others were whiter than the snow she had seen in the North. She spotted two boys with wild red hair and yet another who was so tall she had to lean back in order to see him properly. Her eyes wandered around in curiosity until she noticed the man had come to a halt and was facing her. He pointed to a line of students her age and she understood immediately where she must go. As she walked confidently down the row of tables, a few children from the line turned and watched her. They seemed intrigued by the girl but paid no mind to her when she joined the back of their line. As she stood waiting, she realized all had gone quiet when the old man who had led her down here began to speak to the other students. His words were soft and she noticed how all seemed to respect him greatly. Yet she could not grasp how one so docile had so much respect; he neither yelled as her mama would, nor threatened the others like her uncles did back home. She had much to learn yet the realization only made her smile grow. Students in her line began to approach a stool one by one, and she immediately realized that they were being called by their names. So she waited, and continued to study this new world around her.
Soon the woman called her name into the empty air and she made her way towards the stool like she had seen the others before do. All eyes were on her and she couldn't help but grin. The students at a long table to the right started smirking and pointing her way. She noticed their colors were green and silver and sighed knowing it was the group her mother had warned her about. Suddenly she felt a piece of cloth being placed on her head and she jumped. A deep, raspy voice floated around her head and she listened intently.
"Ahh, I recognize this mind,
How I remember your kind well!
Never had I seen such power,
And not merely in a spell.
You seem to have a dark side my child,
So Slytherine would do you good,
But then again you are much too wild
And plotting is in that brood.
Gryffindor and Hufflepuff,
No they will never do,
And Ravenclaw is not enough,
Though nothing is for you.
And yet your gift,
As was in your kin,
Is one that I must sift,
I suppose your house, without a doubt, will have to be Slyther—"
The girl had been patient through the hat's odd song, but as its words melted into her brain she found herself lost in the romance of it all. Each foreign word seduced her mind and she could not help wishing she understood this strange new language. "Vorrie capire, devo capire," I want to understand, I have to understand.
"Ahh ha!" screeched the hat. Every student jumped a bit in the seats and even she was taken back by the sudden outburst.
Perhaps I have thought you wrong,
And must now enact a yaw,
Slytherine is not where you belong,
But rather, RAVENCLAW!"
Cheers went up from one of the long tables adorned in deep blue and bronze and she assumed that was the House she had been sorted into. She gazed up at the women standing beside her and saw a relieved stare had replaced the stern one. Why had the hat taken so long, she asked herself. She hopped off the stool and walked over to the cheering table. Many of the students around her were girls and she noticed one, a girl her age who had been called before her, smiling at her. This new girl held out her hand and spoke to her. She did not understand but the girl was beautiful and seemed friendly; she rose and kissed this new girl twice on the cheek and was amazed to see the girl laugh. She pointed to herself and quietly said, "Cho Chang."
Coping her new friend's manner, she pointed to herself and whispered back "Noemi DeBernardo."