A/N: Thank you, Exodiano! For providing excellent Italian translations. You're such a big help, it goes a long way. Not terribly prominent in this chapter but in previous and futures one it'll be more evident. Excited~
My favorite(only) beta and friend Clarrolx has had a tough week so I didn't wanna trouble her with more work. I had my sister beta this in her place, she did a good job and I love her but make no mistake Clarrolx is by no means replaceable. This one is dedicated to you.
Enough talk! Read! Review!
Harry tightened his grip on his pillow before opening his eyes. He blinked rapidly…is that…His hand shot out for his glasses, he jammed them on then blinked again, gaping…the Virgin Mary! The light was hitting the folds in the pillow in such a way he swore he could see the outline of the Virgin Mary. Ironically, he noticed as his sleepiness receded, he was all hot and bothered. Groaning he rolled over and peered down the bed sheet. Great, he thought dourly, there was no leaving the room like this and damn it he wanted his coffee!
Cyrus had haunted his dreams last night, he sighed, and closing his eyes as he tried to recall the details. Oh no, that was not helping his situation. Yesterday had been by far one of the best days of his life. His chest was bursting with longing to see him again. After admitting to why Cyrus had really come to work, they left without telling Tori and went to an ice cream parlor. Whilst the ice cream itself was nothing compared to Florean Fortescue (Harry felt somber because of his death, he remembered the man fondly), staring at each other trying to outdo the seductive style in which they ate their shared banana split made it far more amazing.
They ambled along the streets afterward, talking about their lives once more. Cyrus stopped to help a homeless person fix the bridge on his violin, whilst Harry made a show of leaning against his back, his chin propped on Cyrus' shoulder. Pretending to observe with zealous interest as he made subtle wand movements to repair the hobo's blanket and violin bow along with a few minor cleaning charms. After that they couldn't seem to stop touching each other. Keeping close enough so they constantly collided, placing a hand along the back or waist. Harry rarely initiated contact but he constantly sought it. After getting nearly separated in a particularly crowded area Cyrus had taken to holding his hand. At first it made Harry nervous and self-aware but during the few times he let go Harry found himself annoyed but Cyrus didn't disappoint him. He'd pull him closer every time.
A quick, cold shower and low maintenance grooming (why would he even try at this point?) was soon followed by one slightly frustrated, but cheerful, teenager emerging into the kitchen with a bounce in his step. His uncle and cousin ignored him as usual but his keen aunt noticed this further but welcomed the change in behavior. She watched him closely as he fixed his cup and made their breakfast. It had been a while since he had done that voluntarily. They did still insist he did chores, the boy had to earn his keep after all, however, she took it easier on him than she had in the past. Maybe she was finally getting through to him, she thought as her nephew began to hum a tune she was unfamiliar with.
The phone rang and Dudley hurried to answer it, expecting one of his many friends. "What! Really?" His exclamation drew the attention of his parents.
"Who is it, dearest?" His mother asked, somewhat concerned with his tone. As he spoke to caller, he became more and more confused. "Are you sure?" He asked again for the third time.
"Err, okay…" He said dubiously, "Harry some guy with a weird accent wants to talk to you."
"What!" Vernon exclaimed, "I thought we made it clear your freaky friends aren't to call." Petunia placed her hand on his arm to soothe him.
Harry did an about face and glared, his good mood suddenly vanished, "My friends are not freaky!" he snapped. Stomping over to Dudley he snatched the phone away. Putting his face to his cousin's he bit out vehemently, "And he's got a great accent!"
Still glaring he put the phone to his ear; "Hello?" his voice was much softer now, snitches had taken up residence in his gut again. Silence greeted him on the other end, "Cyrus?" he asked tentatively. He heard a snort and someone chuckled.
"Si, it's me."
"Oh, um…hi."
"Hi." Cyrus sniggered, "Allora… you like my accent, amore?"
Harry blushed furiously; thankful he couldn't see it. He should have known Cyrus would hear that.
"Yeah, I really do." Harry said honestly, not giving him a chance to respond he hurriedly followed with, "I'm really glad you called actually."
"I promised I would." Cyrus answered sincerely.
"Remember what we talked about yesterday? About how I almost made it to Diagon Alley?"
"And how you couldn't get pass the Leaky, yes I recall."
Harry nodded; forgetting for a moment Cyrus couldn't see it. Harry drew in a breath, ready to pose his question but it was as if something in his chest was pulling back the words. He really didn't want to impose on his new…friend? Unbeknownst to him, his family had been watching the whole time. Pretending to be preoccupied while they strained their ears to hear what was being said.
"Harry?" Cyrus called worriedly. Said hero cleared his throat.
"Harry." Cyrus said, more serious this time, "Do you want me to go with you?"
"Please?" Harry asked meekly, sounding very small.
Without hesitation he replied, "Of course, bello. How about I come pick you up? We can have lunch before we go?"
"That sounds great." Harry sighed, relieved. "Umm, come by at eleven?" That should give him enough time to actually finish the letter to the Weasleys.
"Sure. I'll see you then and Harry?"
"Yeah?"
"You don't have to be afraid to ask me. I want you to feel like you can come to me for anything, okay?"
"I'm sorry and I do…I really do. I just…didn't want to be an inconvenience."
"You could never be an inconvenience to me, Harry. Never. In fact I want you to inconvenience me. Whatever I have to do to prove how much I care about you."
Harry grinned, cheerful mood now fully restored, "Thanks, I care a lot about you too."
Cyrus left his room to find his father leaning against the door frame, a look of sheer displeasure plastered on his sallow face, "Harry? I hope you do not mean a certain Mr. Potter whom I just happened to meet outside your workplace?"
Narrowing his eyes with suspicion he simply replied, "Si." He ground his front teeth together, why the hell was his father eavesdropping on his conversations? He had too much respect for his own life to say that aloud though. His father copied his expression; "It appears you are getting rather…cozy with Potter."
Cyrus sighed, annoyed with where this was going, "Yes, father, I like him. Is that all?" He inquired heatedly.
"No! That is not all, you stupid boy!" His father snarled, lunging forward to grab him by the shoulder and pin him against the wall.
Stunned and dumbfounded with his father's conduct, Cyrus could only stare at him wide-eyed and speechless. He was never treated this way. Padre had always been a harsh, strict man but never abusive or violent like this.
"Dad?" He finally whispered, frightfully. That seemed to shock his father into backing off. The man suddenly looked very much in pain, pinching the bridge of nose he turned away. Cyrus stared at his back regrettably, contemplating whether or not to reach for him.
"I…apologize, son. Go, you may use the car." His father sighed wearily.
"Dad." Cyrus tried again.
"Go!" He said more firmly.
He hesitated, disturbed but yearning to help his father with whatever troubled him so much about his relationship with Harry. In the end he knew his father never spoke about anything until he was ready. So he left, casting one more poignant glimpse at his unmoving father.
Cyrus arrived at Privet Drive a quarter to ten. Far earlier than Harry was expecting him but he didn't dare linger in his fathers house and there was only one face he wanted to see right now. He knocked on the door and it was answered by what appeared to be a small white Buddha. "Can I help you?" It asked impatiently.
For the second time today he was thunderstruck, gaping for a moment before he realized what a fool he was making of himself. Snapping his mouth shut he prepared to respond when a horse-faced woman who resembled a sapling compared to the great lump (Cyrus assumed he was some sort of teenager) stalked up to the door, a conspicuously phony smile on her face. She greeted him politely but as she raked her eyes up and down, taking in and calculating his appearance she must have decided he was no good for her expression suddenly became sour.
She drew herself up, scowling, "What do you want, boy?" she barked rudely, turning up her nose, "You best not be here to cause trouble! I won't stand for it! No pranks!"
Cyrus raised an eyebrow in rebuke and answered levelly, "No trouble madam. I'm here to see Harry Potter, is this not his residence?"
The woman jerked her head, still eying him skeptically. She didn't trust these wannabe rock star types. Most of them prone to serious delinquency, no matter how well mannered they may pretend to be. She hoped this wasn't the guy Harry was talking to on the phone. Though going by the accent that was exactly who this stranger is. He seemed…infatuated. Yes there was no other word for it. She had meant to ask him about it when this…creature showed up. Whilst it did bother her that her nephew was potentially gay, she was willing to overlook it.
"So it is." She sniped, "Dudley, tell Harry he has a guest."
"But mom-" he began to whine before she cut him off sharply. Sulking he went to fetch his cousin. Reluctantly she invited the agitated boy into her home.
After thanking her albeit grudgingly he inquired, "You must be Harry's aunt? I've heard a lot about you."
She replied snootily, "I've heard nothing about you."
Harry came rushing down the stairs into the sitting room, grinning as soon as he saw him, "Cyrus! You're early!"
Cyrus smiled ruefully, "Mi Dispiace, I should have called again. My father sort of rushed me out for the day."
"That fine!" Harry quickly reassured him, "I'm glad to see you." The piano man's smile broadened.
His aunt cleared her throat none too delicately. Harry noted the disapproval written on her face and hurried to make introductions.
"Oh, er, Cyrus this is my Aunt Petunia and my cousin Dudley."
Cyrus nodded his head and offered his hand, "Pleased to meet you." Aunt Petunia shook it briskly, not wanting to be outdone by his show of etiquette and nudged Dudley to do the same. Harry was beginning to grow uncomfortable by the near palpable tension. He was about to speak when his aunt beat him to it.
"Cyrus is it? You one of his kind?" She gestured to Harry. He looked confused.
Harry sighed, "Yes, aunt Petunia, he's a wizard. From Italy." He added.
"Do you have a last name, Cyrus?" Petunia probed, she didn't trust this Italian one bit and thought his accent sounded a bit forced.
Said Italian was fast becoming more and more agitated as this interrogation continued. For Harry's sake he would put up with it, his aunt was likely just being protective. Resigning himself to suffer a long line of questioning, he addressed her.
"Snape."
A/N: Oh snap, a cliffhanger! How will Harry react?
Translations:
Si- Yes
Mi Dispiace- I'm sorry
Allora- So...
Amore- Love/Dear
Bello- Beautiful
