Blinded with rage, Draco went straight to Italy. He couldn't use the floo network to get to Hermione's grandparents' house because he somehow was banned from the entire town of Montopoli di Sabina, and not only the town, but the whole province of Reiti. The Zabinis were one influential family.
This fact only enraged him more; the nerve of her! He had to floo to Rome--the only city close enough and big enough to find posibilities to get there--and then fly to Montopoli, which wasn't a piece of cake either, considering he had not taken a broom with him (his favorite one had mysteriously disappeared) and he had to buy another one there. The issue was he had not taken enough money to buy the fastest one and the bloody banks wouldn't lend him any money, not even when he showed his credentials...in fact, that probably made it worse.
So, he had to put up with a cheap and lousy one. It took him a whole bloody hour to make 25 miles!
When he got there, he realized he didn't know the address of the Zabini Residence; and he couldn't go back and ask Blaise–with whom he wasn't in speaking terms with--or his mother; therefore, he was in a strange city with no idea where to go to, he didn't even know how to find the wizarding part of the town. He seriously couldn't believe his luck.
Italy, he noticed, was was rather different from the United Kingdom. Wizards and witches were not easily distinguished from the muggles, for they wore the same kind of outfits. It probably was a matter of the weather, Draco thought, since Italy was very warm in comparison to the UK. Muggles' light clothes were more comfortable than the cloaks and traditional robes worn on the North of Europe and the Islands. That was yet another problem for him: he was wearing wizard robes, muggles would look at him funny. It was winter, though, perhaps he wouldn't draw too much attention; he could only hope.
Flying above the city, he realized just how small it was. There couldn't be more than three thousand inhabitants. If the Zabinis were as influential as they had demonstrated to him, everyone in town had to know them, even if they were muggles. Italians were known for being very friendly, he knew the wizarding population of Italy was used to living in harmony with the muggles–of course the muggles had no idea about the real nature of some of their neighbors.
The town was rather different from what he knew of Rome, it lacked its classical architecture in most houses. There was snow all over the sidewalks, frozen trees all around. The houses were pretty humble, they had a very old style.
Draco didn't intend on strolling around the town, however, he had to find the bloody
Manor. He guessed there had to be some sort of a rich wizarding residential neighborhood, as in his own hometown. Either way he wouldn't be able to find it on his own; he wouldn't just have the luck to see Hermione standing on the front door.
The few people walking across the streets, he noticed, were very aware of him, looking carefully at him. Small town, they probably don't like strangers, he thought.
He approached one middle aged woman dressed in wide winter clothes.
"Parli inglese?"
Regarding Italian, Draco was out of practice, therefore, he tried to find someone who could speak English. He had studied the language for 3 years, in hopes to impress and honour his wife's Italian family. When he was 13 he started realizing it was probably a lost cause.
The woman stared at him skeptically, and quickly said "No" as she walked hurriedly away. 'How rude' Draco thought, raising an eyebrow.
The woman in fact turned out to be the most polite person he met there; the following six people he tried to talk to simply ignored him as they walked away. It made his blood boil, he was a Malfoy for Merlin's sake! Not that the bunch of muggles would know, but anyway, how they disgusted him!
He was about to do something drastic when he heard a familiar voice behind him. "Malfoy?" Surprised and glad he turned around to see the face of one Blaise Zabini.
"Zabini!"--suddenly happy and remarkably desperate, he exclaimed--"You've got to take me to her!"
Blaise indeed looked like any muggle walking around, he wasn't wearing the usual robes he shows in the UK. He was carrying a bag, looking wary as he said: "Now, why would I do that?"–he arched an eyebrow and added--"Have you looked yourself in a mirror?"
"What?!" He asked, caught off guard with that last statement.
"You look like hell."
"I've been through it." Replied Draco as he gritted his teeth, trying to and successfully suppressing his anger. "I used to think it was the French who enjoyed themselves ignoring hopeless foreigners; but your people aren't any better."
Blaise, instead of snorting and threating him for the offensive comment, half smirked at him and chuckled lightly. "So it's you I've been hearing rumors about. You are hopeless, Malfoy. People here seem to think you are a vampire. They fear you."
"A vampire?" Wide eyed, Draco looked over his shoulder to see some individuals congregating just a block away, as he stared at them, they quickly averted their gazes and kept speaking in hushed voices. 'How do they know about vampires?'
"You look gaunt, too pale, you are dressed in a cloak that looks awfully Romanian to them, you've got a mess for a hair...Did you come here flying?"
"As a matter of fact, I did. From Rome." Reminded of the last series of unfortunate events, Draco clenched his fists and, if possible, scared the inhabitants of the town even more looking angrier than before.
"Rome, huh?" –Blaise asked dismissively- "We should have taken more precautions." He added mostly for himself.
"How come, Zabini? Am I supposed to be the bad guy here? I didn't do this." – he showed him his bandaged left hand, which was so hurt he couldn't even move it despite all the ointments and potions his mother had provided him with. The right hand only had superficial burn marks that didn't ache that much now.
"For one thing, you've accomplished to get here in a record time despite all of the obstacles we put. We didn't expect you to get here so soon, and without telling beforehand. It's been...what? 5 hours? She's not ready to see you, and even if she were, you are not seeing her until you've calmed down."
"I've been through hell and you—wait-" he paused a second just realizing something. "5 hours? What do you know?!"
"Huh?" Blaise, realizing his mistake, tried and put on a clueless facade to confront him. "What do you mean?"
"What. Did. She. Do; Zabini?" Draco pronounced every word with a remarkably dangerous tone of voice as he slowly stepped closer to him; but Blaise wasn't to be intimidated by Draco.
"Nothing she should be ashamed of, Malfoy. And you don't get to see her, like it or not. She's had enough for today."
Right at that moment, Blaise chose to disapparate; what he didn't expect was Draco putting a hand on his shoulder just in time to disapparate along with him. As both boys spun through the magical path, Draco grabbed Blaise's arm fiercely in order not to end up just anywhere on the map.
They appeared just some feet away from the front of the enormous gates of a huge Renaissance-like three-story Manor, surrounded by huge gardens of trees and guarded by walls with railings. The closest houses were far apart, since all had huge gardens separating them all. It was the second time in the day Draco felt lucky.
Blaise, however, was swearing out loud. He pushed him aside and hurried to the gate's entrance to meet up with two other men standing in front of the gate, who were staring menacingly at Draco. One had the same type of brown curly hair Hermione had, and the very same eyes, he almost looked like a masculine version of her, much taller and with a slight beard. The other one was just as tall, but he was shaved, had light green eyes and straight dark brown hair. They looked familiar for Draco, 'Must have seen them at the wedding.' He thought.
Blaise was speaking in Italian, too quick for Draco to catch a word; he could catch, however, the boys' glares growing angrier as Blaise spoke. When he was apparently finished explaining the situation, he turned around to look at him in the face again, standing next to one of his–Draco presumed--relatives.
"You are not allowed in here." The tallest one threateningly stated with a prominent Italian accent.
"I'm not leaving." He did his best to remain calm, he was no match for three other wizards. "I just want a word with Blaise's sister; I don't care if it's in the house or outside here." Recklessly, he took a step toward them. Just as fast, Blaise did as well, whilst he prevented his cousin from moving along with a hand.
"We can't let you in, Malfoy. Don't push it. We are not saying you won't ever get to talk to her again-" –one of his relatives snorted while the other one remained dangerously calm- "- just not right now. Come back in a couple of days and I'll see if I can convince her to talk to you."
'Curious'-thought Draco- 'Blaise is being neutral again after so long. 'Might as well use this to my advantage.'
"I could consider it if I knew exactly what happened."
Blaise and his relatives remained silent and thoughtful for a moment, until the one who looked calm stated something that sounded like: "Egli non è una sfida per noi."
'He's no match for us.' Draco translated in his head and gritted his teeth, it was true, not because he was poorly skilled, but because numbers weren't on his side. They were not going to tell him what he wanted to know, and they were not going to allow him to see Hermione. He comprehended the reason for the last one, truth is he would only yell at her if he'd see her; but why not tell him what had happened? What had she done? His blood boiled with rage as he imagined the possibilities; even if they didn't love each other, she had no right to cheat on him. If she didn't want to be with him, she wouldn't be with anybody else.
"It's not our place to talk about it; it's something between her and you." The other one said, dismissing the other's comment.
"Just tell me, Blaise!" he spit the words out one by one, articulating his name with special distaste.
It was to no use, all of them appeared to act as the girl's bloody bodyguards and confidants. What was about her that made so many act that way? She was utterly annoying! Besides, being so confident, prideful and know it all, it seemed oddly inaccurate that she couldn't defend herself alone. Normally, she wouldn't allow others to stand up for her when she could do it on her own. Therefore–Draco realized--if she wasn't right there at the moment to confront him, she had to be either emotionally devastated or more injured than he was.
"Is she injured?"
"Probably as much as you." Despair was it then. Well, he didn't care, she deserved despair. Had she been gravely injured, then he would have considered not giving her a piece of his mind until she got better.
"All right then, I won't try and enter the property today," he showed them one of his usual crooked smiles.
"What are you up to Malfoy?" Blaise asked warily.
"That's not your place to know, Zabini." Then he turned around and calmly walked away through the snow camp that the street was, knowing he would either be followed or watched for a while, until they considered it was of no danger to leave him alone in the town.
Blaise knew one thing for sure, Draco wasn't up to any good.
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A/N: How did you like that?
I'm so glad about the response last chapter had I'm updating earlier. I loved your reviews, keep them coming!
PS: About the Italian, I hope some Italian will tell me if I've commited a mistake so I can mend it. :)