Thirteen-year-old Maribella Piccinni was meant to be having a tremendous summer vacation. Her last year at Hogwarts had been- well, not quite a disaster, but very emotionally-demanding, for various reasons. First and foremost, she and her best friends, Harry Potter (famously known as "The-Boy-Who-Lived", but that was a whole other story), Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger, had somehow lived through an entire year worth of attacks, which ended up with Hermione's momentaneous petrification and Ron's sister, Ginny, being captured. Luckily, they eventually managed to defeat the culprit, who believe it or not (Anna, Maribella's younger sister, most definitely did not, when Maribella shared the tale) ended up being You-Know-Who's younger self, preserved by a memory in a diary.
Her other problem had no foreseeable solution. See, Maribella Piccinni suffered from a condition named lycanthropy, known commonly as 'she was a werewolf'. Although her closest friends knew and accepted her, it was still a challenge keeping it a secret from the rest of the Hogwarts population. Not to mention that the transformations were extremely painful, thank you very much.
So, considering the strenuous year she had had, a relaxing summer vacation was a given, correct? No, not correct at all. Because while her friends were all on luxurious trips, Maribella had been recruited, or rather, forced by her family, to participate in that year's harvest. The Piccinni household, the Grotta, apart from being a cozy two-storey house, included a ginormous vineyard, so big it was hard not to get lost in it, because Maribella's father, Alessandro Piccinni, owned the British Wizarding World's best winery, producing the finest wines from mistletoe and juniper berries. And as so, they had powerful and very demanding clients, and all help was necessary and enlisted.
Meanwhile, Ron's family had gotten a whooping 700 hundred galleons prize, and had set off to Egypt for the entirety of the summer. Her other friend, Hermione, had gone to France. So while Maribella was slaving away at home, spending her days getting tanned, not at a nice French beach in Nice, but as she picked the juiciest berries, her friends were mostly all abroad.
Harry was probably the only one who was having a summer as cruddy as her's. He lived with his horrid Muggle family, who despised anything to do with magic, and things were apparently worse this year: some aunt of Harry's, Marge or something, was staying over for a week, and Harry had to act as Muggle-y as possible around her. For that reason, precisely six days ago, Harry's owl, Hedwig, was banned from Harry's household and had become a temporary member of the Piccinni family. Luckily, it wasn't quite unusual for her family to have exotic animals around.
For starters, there was Tesoro, the family kneazle, who was part of the family ever since Maribella was around eight. Then, the newest addition: Rubeus, Maribella's rooster that she had adopted from Hagrid, the caretaker at her magical school, and who had killed the Basilisk of the Chamber of Secrets with his powerful crow. He had mingled perfectly with the rest of the family. Maribella's siblings, 10-year-old Giovanna 'Anna' Piccinni (almost eleven, though, as Anna would always point out) and 6-year-old Marco, had immediately adored him, and Marco had adopted him as a sidekick. The two would spend the sunny days prancing around, doing whatever six-year-olds and their chickens did these days. In addition to those, the Piccinnis still had a variety of creatures inhabiting their homes, as the matron of the family, Fatima Piccinni, worked as a Magizoologist, and was always housing a number of animals.
The Grotta's attic had an infestation of Doxies; A family of Bowtruckles had settled in the vineyard eons before, and a fully-formed colony now resided there; Mrs. Piccinni had been nursing a shy Augurey back to health, after it had an unfortunate run-in with an old wizard who still believed it to be a sign for misfortune; they recently found the Chizpurfle parasite in the Augurey's feathers, which brought on a whole new set of problems; they had a family of Dugbobs in a pond nearby; a litter of orphaned Mooncalves were being kept behind the house, where they'd be taken care of until they reached an age of maturity to be set free; there were your usual garden gnomes in the backyard, and Maribella was pretty sure she had once seen a Leucrotta out in the fields. Anna, who was not as fond of the creatures as the rest of her family were, had been growing out a Wiggentree.
Along with her other chores, Maribella had also been helping around with the creatures, but willingly. She had taken after her mother in that aspect, having a firm passion for all Magical Creatures. But that was pretty much the only chore she did with pleasure, and she had barely any time for it, as she was always out in the vineyard.
Anna had been roped into helping out in the vineyards as well, but instead of actually doing anything, she'd always sit on a shaded area and read.
"Anna, can you please get started on that second row over there," Maribella pleaded to her sister for what felt like the millionth time, as she got her finger bitten by another bowtruckle. Her job would be much easier without those pesky creatures.
"Let me just finish this chapter," Anna replied, not moving from her spot.
"You said that two chapters ago."
I have to be prepared for Hogwarts!"
Anna would be starting her first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry the following month, and had been reading and rereading Maribella's entire first year book collection nonstop.
"I still can't believe I have to go with secondhand books." Anna grumbled.
Maribella pretended to be offended.
"I'll have you know my first-year books are in perfect condition," she said, in mock hurt.
"That's because you never used them in your first year, Maribella."
"Did too!" Maribella said, now truly indignant. "I was a model student, and still had time to-"
"-To defeat your old evil teacher, all the while dealing with the hardships of lycanthropy…" Anna recited in a mocking voice, without taking her eye from the page she was reading. "Yes, I've heard."
Maribella huffed, and turned back to the tree she was working on. The only thing that was keeping her going was the fact that Hermione would be arriving from France that night. Hermione would spend the rest of summer with the Piccinnis, so she could experience what it felt like to be a part of a true wizarding household (Maribella could easily answer that: not good, especially if you had annoying siblings). She had spent the entire week setting up the place for Hermione.
The extra bed in Maribella's room, usually occupied by Anna in their shared bedroom, had been made up with fresh bed sheets that let out a calming scent of lavender every time one laid down on it. A fresh pair of towels, that were forever-warmed, had been hung on the bathroom for the guest. Everything fresh, fresh, fresh. Hopefully a fresh person in the house would get Anna to stop being so annoying and get the broomstick out of her-
"Maribella! Giovanna!" Mrs. Piccinni called from the house.
It was getting dark, and the children were not allowed out in the fields after sundown, so Maribella went in and washed away all the grime and sweat from her body, and put on her nicest clean clothes, a silk, never-slept-in, gown that Aunt Donatella had given her for her birthday; hopefully it looked pretty enough that Hermione wouldn't notice they were pijamas.
They were set for a wonderful evening. Except that, before Maribella could go down to join her family, she was met with an owl pecking her bedroom window, and it wasn't Harry's snowy owl, who had left for an evening fly, but a brown one Maribella had never seen before. She opened the latch, and the owl fluttered in. It had a letter attached to its leg, which Maribella wasted no time in taking.
Dear Mari,
I'm so sorry, but my parents have decided to extend our summer vacation until the last week of August. We've met some of my mum's extended family, and they've really kept me quite busy with some younger cousins. I'd have liked nothing more than to spend the last few weeks with you- How fascinating must life be living with a variety of magical creatures!
There's some local history of witchcraft here in France, too. I've rewritten my whole History of Magic essay to include some of the things I've found out. I can't imagine what else I would have learned at your house. I really am sorry I can't go.
Ron says he's going to be in London in the last week of holidays. Can you make it? If not, I'll see you on the Hogwarts Express on September first.
Love from,
Hermione Granger
The letter was dated a week before, but had only arrived that very day. Maribella couldn't help but feel disappointment seep through, stomping down the enthusiasm she had felt before.
What now?
She didn't blame Hermione, who had, technically, warned Maribella she wouldn't be coming a week in advance. She also didn't blame the brown owl who had brought in the letter late, because, well, she knew better than to blame animals who were just doing their job. She just felt a crushing sense of disappointment. There went the only thing that could have saved her summer...
In the owl's other paw, a newspaper was tied up. Maribella paid the owl a few treats, and a sickle for the post, and it flew away. Maribella went down to the first floor, where the dining table was already set.
Maribella's Papa had prepared a grand dinner for that special day: turkey marinated in a mistletoe solution, with sauteed mistletoe berries, a salad consisting of mistletoe leaves, stripped clean of all their prickling-inducing properties, mistletoe gravy and salad dressing, mistletoe juice for the children, and wine for the adults, and for dessert, a delicious mistletoe berry flan, which made their mouths water just thinking about it.
The entire family was already seated around.
"Hi," she said curtly, handing the newspaper to her mother.
"Hello, Mari," Mr. Piccinni said. "When's your friend getting here?"
"Oh, uh-" Maribella stuttered. She was saved from answering by a gasp of shock by her mum, who had just opened the Daily Prophet to its front page. Mrs. Piccinni had gone completely white in the face.
"What?" Maribella asked, tactless as ever. She was glad for the distraction, as she didn't want to tell her family Hermione wouldn't be coming. It'd just encourage Anna's teasing to a new level of unpleasant.
"Marco, will you please grab the gravy from the kitchen?" Mrs. Piccinni asked the baby of the family instead.
After he had gone, she spread the paper out. Maribella leaned over, then suddenly felt sick. There was a headline she thought she'd never see:
AZKABAN FIRST: MASS MURDERER ESCAPES THE INESCAPABLE
Beneath, was a picture of a man with sunken cheeks, unruly dirty hair, and a crazed smile. His hollow eyes had a glint that made a shiver go up Maribella's spine. This was Sirius Black. Maribella knew bits and pieces of his story, everyone did. But he had become a sort of folkloric figure in her world, that of which represented the roots of evil in humankind. To give a face to the name, and, worst of all, to know that he was walking free, was unimaginable.
The article went on to give details of his crime: twelve years ago he had been responsible for the ruthless murder of a brave wizard, Peter Pettigrew, and along with him, over a dozen Muggles, with a curse that had destroyed an entire street. Black had done the unthinkable, and for the first time, somebody had broken out of Azkaban. He was considered deranged and dangerous, and all were warned to not approach him under any circumstance. It concluded affirming that any sighting should be reported to the Ministry of Magic immediately.
"Now, listen here, girls," Mrs. Piccinni said, after seemingly attempting to recollect her thoughts. "With a mass murderer at large in Britain, we have to be as careful as possible. I'm telling you this because I don't want, under any circumstance, you two walking around by yourselves," she gave Maribella a pointed look. "And once you're gone off to Hogwarts, you two have to look out for each other."
"Mama, I couldn't find the gravy!" Marco walked back towards them, and the conversation was cut short.
"Oh, my mistake, tesoro, it's right here by the juice."
They ate in silence. Not even the delicious meal was enough to lift the sour mood brought by the news. But the family was in for one more surprise. There was a knock at their door. Maribella's eyes widened. Who could it be, at this hour?
"Great!" Mr. Piccinni exclaimed, clapping his hands. "Your friend is here, Mari." Oh. "Go on, answer the door," and then added a little lower. "Merlin knows we need a distraction."
But Maribella didn't want to answer the door. Because she wasn't expecting any friend, and she knew a mass murderer was at large, and what if it was him at the door? She hesitantly stood up and dragged herself to the front door.
"Who is it?" she whispered to the door knob, but for once it decided to stay silent. Maribella rolled her eyes.
Maybe she was being too much of a cynic? She had the tendency to have a, what she called, realistic take on life (though many would argue the right word was 'pessimist'). Hermione had sent Maribella that letter seven days before she got it; had her friend maybe changed her mind, and her message just didn't arrive in time? Maribella surely hoped so. Before she could change her mind, she cracked the door open, peeking out. And then she inhaled sharply.
Because, standing on her doorstep wasn't Hermione, or even Sirius Black.
It was Harry Potter.
A.N.: Hey there, it's been a long while, hasn't it? Welcome to any newcomers, and welcome back to those of all who're familiar with the first two installments of this series, "New Moon" and "Waning Crescent". This chapter, although slow and somewhat-introductory, jumps right into the action. I hope you've enjoyed it!
On that note, don't hesitate to leave me a comment!