CHAPTER 9: CREATING THE ITALIAN CONNECTION
"Boy-Who-Lived Missing" the headline of the Daily Prophet screamed the next morning, causing Harry to choke and look quizzically at his grandfather, who merely smirked as if to say that the article was his idea.
"What!" Owen, the eldest of Sam's two children, snapped in annoyance, although he was still curious as to what caused his cousin's choking fit.
"You seen the front page of the Daily Prophet this morning?" he asked. Owen shook his head, curious as to why the newspaper would be so interesting. He soon found out when Harry began to read the article aloud.
"There was another blow for Albus Dumbledore, the embattled Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, last night, when it emerged that Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, had disappeared from the home of his muggle relatives. In a worrying development it emerged that Professor Dumbledore, who as the Boy-who-lived's magical guardian is in charge of Mr. Potter's safety and well-being, is currently uncertain of the whereabouts of his ward, and only found out that Mr. Potter had left the Surrey home of his relatives two days ago, a full three weeks after Mr. Potter's disappearance.
"I'm not surprised that he's run away," a close friend of Mr. Potter told the Daily Prophet when contacted by your intrepid reporter with the news of Mr. Potter's disappearance, "He hardly ever mentions his relatives, but everyone knows that he hates them." Another close friend went further comparing Mr. Potter's treatment at his relatives to that of a house elf. If such accusations are true than it dwarfs the previous concerns about Professor Dumbledore's judgement and suitability to be Hogwarts Headmaster, arising from his controversial claim that You-know-who had returned at the Hogwarts leaving feast in June, and a string of controversial staff appointments, that includes a werewolf and 'Mad-Eye' Moody. If our young saviour really is being mistreated, then it is imperative that not only Mr. Potter never return to his muggle relatives but also that responsibility for Mr. Potter's care be removed from Professor Dumbledore and placed with a more suitable guardian with surer judgement"
Harry looked over at Richard whose smirk was bigger than before, "This suitable guardian with surer judgement wouldn't happen to be you would it?" he asked, reflecting his grandfather's smirk.
"You'd have to ask the Family Division of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, but I would imagine so." Richard replied adopting a more serious expression, "As long as Fudge doesn't make you a Ministry Ward that is."
Harry's smirk turned to a worried look, "Fudge wouldn't allow it would he?" he asked afraid that Fudge might take him from his new found family, "You wouldn't let him?"
"He shouldn't. I did send owl him this morning reminding him of our relationship," Harry's grandfather responded giving Harry a reassuring smile, "But you never know with Fudge, but at least he's no longer in Dumbledore's pocket."
"Good," Harry commented turning his attention to more practical matters, "I assume saying that I'm missing was a ruse to make sure I actually replied to the Prophet article, after all Dumbledore knows perfectly well that I'm here." Richard's far too innocent smirk answered the question, "Well I'd better get writing then, before Voldemort announces that he's killed me." He got up from the breakfast table and walked towards the door with the intention of getting a quill and some parchment, but had only got to the door before Richard stopped him.
"Don't take too long, Harry." Richard said, "Valerie is taking Draco and her boys shopping today. You're going with them, you can't keep borrowing clothes." Harry groaned at the thought of going shopping, but he knew he desperately needed the clothes; his old ones had been burned the previous evening.
"But won't people be suspicious if they see me and Draco together." Harry asked. He did not want his friends to find out about his friendship with Draco, they'd probably be mad enough at his new attitude let alone making up with their worst enemy. Ron would probably go ballistic if he found out, whilst Hermione would look at him and try to talk him out of his new friendship.
"Which is exactly the reason why we'll be flooing to Rome. None of your friends, or Draco's friends, will see us there." Owen said with a patronising smirk that looked as though it was copied from Malfoy
Harry emerged from the International Floo Point in Rome's Piazza Imperiale, just after an early lunch, grumbling about the horrors of Floo Powder, especially International Floo that was ten times worse than the domestic Floo Network. After he had recovered from his nauseating journey he had admired the square in front of him. The Piazza Imperiale is the centre of Rome's wizarding quarter, and generally regarded as one of the most beautiful sights in the wizarding world. The piazza itself is a large cobbled square dominated by a large ornate fountain, decorated with statues of wolves and eagles spouting water. The imposing classical façade of the Palazzo Romano, the Italian Ministry of Magic offices, dominates one side of the square, with its imposing classical façade. The other three sides are dominated by various cafés, housed in medieval half-timbered houses, whose tables spilled out onto the shaded square. Various streets led away from the square deeper into Rome's Wizarding Quarter. The largest and most important of these streets, the tree lined Via Francisco Pramenari, met the square directly opposite the ministry offices.
Malfoy followed him out of the public fireplace, which was situated in on the east side of the square, between two cafés, grumbling about Floo Powder and threatening it's inventor with a meeting with Mordred Lestrange, who Harry assumed to be one of the death eater's torturers.
"For once I agree with you Malfoy," Harry responded to the blond's whining, "Although I'm pretty sure that the inventor of Floo Powder is dead,"
Malfoy looked at him with a fake look of surprise, but didn't actually say anything because another voice got there first.
"What's this?" the voice drawled. He recognised the voice and it's weak Italian accent as belonging to one of Malfoy's fellow Slytherins, "Perfect Potter associating with wannabe death eater Malfoy? Perfect Potter thinking something malicious? Looks like you're rubbing off on him Malfoy."
Both Hogwarts Students looked over to a dark haired boy with olive skin and dark eyes who was standing by the fireplace, with a playful smirk on his face. He recognised the tall frame of Blaise Zabini, who, with the exception of Malfoy's cronies, was the only other Slytherin boy in their year. Harry didn't actually knew very much about the boy, apart from the fact his friends tended to be either from the year above them or were Ravenclaws. Seeing Zabini eating at the Ravenclaw table talking to Stephen Cornfoot and Tristan Nott was a common sight.
"Of course I am," Malfoy replied, flashing a winning smirk, not the least bit perturbed by the sudden appearance of his housemate, "Who can resist my brilliance?"
Harry couldn't help but grin and shake his head at the other boy's egoistic comment, "I can," Harry replied, "As the past four years prove." The joviality in his voice disappeared, giving his voice a hard, bitter edge, "And he's not rubbing off on me. I had some sense beaten into during the summer."
"Well at least Muggles are useful for something." Draco drawled, ignoring the fact that the Dursleys were a touchy issue for Harry. Fortunately for the blond he didn't get a tongue lashing from Harry, as Zabini spoke first.
"I take what I said back," The Italian boy said trying to avoid an argument between his two year mates, "Potter is rubbing off on you Malfoy."
Malfoy grimaced with disgust, "I'm not turning into some muggle loving Gryffindor," he snapped vehemently. To Harry's eyes his outburst was an automatic reaction to being compared to a Gryffindor.
"There's no danger of that," Harry laughed, his previous bad mood forgotten, "You'll always be an arrogant, prejudiced, smug git."
If anything Malfoy's sneer got darker at that comment, "I am not an arrogant, prejudiced, smug git. I am a young, handsome, pureblood wizard, who, unlike someone I could name, acts in the dignified manner befitting my status." he sneered haughtily, directing a fierce glare at Harry. The implication of the comment was clear, but did not bother Harry, who was not surprised by the blond's arrogance
"Is this the same dignified manner, which allows you to sneer at everybody at every opportunity, and to generally be rude to anybody you don't like?" Harry asked looking pointedly at Malfoy, waiting for a response, as the group, which included Owen, Michael, Valerie and now Blaise, moved away from the fireplaces and began to walk across the square towards the Via Francisco Pramenari, which was the main shopping street.
"I am not rude to anybody," Malfoy sneered. Harry could see Zabini, and his two younger cousins smirk in disagreement. Zabini rolled his eyes when his eyes met Harry's, the Italian boy was probably used to Malfoy, or those with similar views lecturing his light-side supporting housemates about the exact same thing, "I merely have a duty as a pureblood to remind those of less blood of their inferiority and so do you. And quite frankly your failure to perform this duty is a disgrace."
"Disgrace!" Harry exclaimed quietly, he didn't want the whole street hearing him. He wasn't angry or shocked at the comment; he was just trying to annoy the blond, "The boy who wants to grovel before Lord Moldywarts has the guts to call me a disgrace!" Harry had borrowed the nickname from his namesake uncle, who surprisingly didn't seem to be afraid of the dark lord, although he wouldn't say why, "You're the disgrace Malfoy for wanting to be a death eater."
"You would do well not to jest about the dark lord, Potter," Malfoy sneered, his eyes flashing in annoyance. Harry's comments having the desired effect, "He is far more powerful than you will ever hope to be and it would be your interests not to anger him."
Harry grinned as a further opportunity arose to annoy Malfoy, "Oops! Too late!" He remarked cheerily, "I kind of angered him fourteen years ago, by surviving. It's fortunate he doesn't seem to be able to kill me." Even to Harry that attitude was too flippant, Voldemort was very powerful and a deadly enemy. It was fortunate for him that he intended to become very powerful and a deadly enemy, in order to be able to defeat the dark lord. Once again Harry's comment had the desired effect of angering Malfoy as the pink tinge that began to colour Malfoy's pale skin showed. The blond's grey eyes darkened becoming cloudier and angrier. He didn't get to form a reply though; as yet again the two boys' bickering was interrupted before their comments became malicious.
"Where do you want to buy your robes boys?" Valerie asked as they stopped in the middle of the busy Via Francisco Pramenari.
"Versace and Laziconni," Malfoy answered, taking Zabini's silence as the prompt for him to speak, "I suppose we could try Gorgomilio and Limburg, they do have a branch here"
"They do indeed," Zabini responded knowledgably, "Don't forget we have a Gladrags and Narcissus here too." Harry was confused by all the names, he'd heard of Versace of course and there was a Gladrags in Hogsmeade, but the rest were new to him, and to be perfectly honest he couldn't see what was so important about which shop they went to. At the end of the day a robe was a robe after all.
"We could go there then, as well. But I I am not going to Gautier." Harry smirked at this last comment; he was going to make extra sure that the group went there.
Zabini seemed to have read Harry's expression perfectly, "Don't you dare," he whispered harshly, "I'm not buying robes from a Frenchman." He went on to quickly explain the merits of the various brands. Although the explanation only served to increase Harry's confusion "Versace is the best but very expensive. Laziconni is better value, although his robes aren't quite the same quality. Some people prefer Gautier, but Malfoy hates him because he's Muggle-born, and as I said he's French. Gorgomilio is also popular, but their colours are garish, the sort of thing Lockhart wears. Limburg and Narcissus are both American designers. Limburg is the more popular, but I don't think his wizard's robes are as good as Narcissus' wizard robes."
His smirk turned into a grin, "Right then," Harry announced with false cheer, "Gautier it is then." He looked at the assembled group. Michael was grinning widely, presumably because he knew it piss off Malfoy, and by the looks of things his brother. Harry wasn't quite sure what Owen had against Gautier, but he presumed, much to his disgust, that it was because he was muggle-born. It was natural that Owen, who he had been told modelled himself on Malfoy, would adopt his hero's political views as well, however wrong and distasteful they were. Zabini was grimacing as well, but he knew that was because of Gautier's nationality, not his ancestry.
Valerie it seemed was willing to aid his goal of annoying Malfoy, as she led the group up the street towards the Gautier shop. Zabini and Malfoy didn't even enter the shop, preferring to head directly to the Versace store situated opposite. Harry didn't stay long either; thinking the cut of Gautier's everyday robes was far too long to be practical. He did however buy a new set of velvet forest green dress robes, to replace his old dress robes, which he had outgrown. Once he had finished he crossed the street joined Malfoy and Zabini in Versace.
When he entered the store Zabini was busy chatting away in Italian to the shop assistant, while Malfoy seemed to be busy fussing over what colour robes he should buy, in a way that would have made him question the blond's sexual orientation, if that is, he wasn't paying as much attention to the extremely beautiful female shop assistant as he was to the robes he was buying. Harry soon found out, however, that Malfoy's fussing paled in comparison to the way Zabini fretted over the raven-haired boy's potential wardrobe, in a manner that would have put Mrs. Weasley to shame. Zabini it appeared had been appointed, whether by himself or someone else, as Harry's personal shopper and he took the role very seriously. Harry soon gave up on protesting the Italian boy's choices and just let him pick everything out, and ask for the various shop assistant's to make minute adjustments to the fit which Harry couldn't even see the effect of, simply because the other boy simply ignored everything Harry said and did what he thought was right irrespective of what Harry felt. The only person Zabini would actually listen to was Malfoy, who made several comments about the Italian boy's choices, all critical, most spectacularly objecting to a set of navy blue robes in Limburg, saying the colour didn't look good on Harry. The two boys had argued over that one for five minutes before Zabini had won, and Harry had brought the robes. The only thing the Italian Boy didn't fussed over was Harry's school uniform, which they had brought at Gladrags, but that Harry suspected, was because he was too busy being fitted himself. By the end of it all Harry had been bored stiff. He didn't enjoy shopping at the best of times, but just standing there watching everyone else do the buying, even if it gave him lots more opportunity to bait Malfoy, was especially boring. Although Harry did have to admit that Zabini did know his stuff, and that the clothes he had brought for Harry did look good on him, and all had room for growth.
It was at about four o'clock that a tired, hungry and thirsty group retired to one of the many cafés ringing the Piazza Imperiale, and ordered a well-deserved Ice Cream and a long drink each, while engaged in a lively discussion about European Quidditch teams. Everything went smoothly until Harry was halfway through his Ice Cream when Harry felt one of the other customers glaring at his back. Chancing a quick glance behind him, he found that the offending person was a very familiar girl with bushy brown hair and brown eyes, someone who he knew was on holiday in the area, but had not expected to see in the wizarding quarter of Rome. Feeling very nervous all of a sudden, he got up, leaving his ice cream half eaten, and walked over to an irate Hermione Granger, hoping that she would listen to what he had to say.
Woah! This is by far the longest chapter in the fic so far. I didn't intend oto write a longer chapter, its just that I got to my normal length and couldn't find a sutible place to end the chapter, but I'm sure you're not complaining. The inclusion of Blaise in this chapter was another last minute plot bunny, but the chapter is all the better for it. Harry is activily trying to bait Malfoy into getting angry is another indication of Slytherin! Harry, as far as I can remember it's always Malfoy that provokes their fights in cannon. Is also planning to include some more information about the Potter family in this chapter but I couldn't fit it in without breaking the flow of the chapter. Hopefully I'll include it in the next chapter, but I'm making no promises. Thank You to all those who reviewed Chapter eight. The reviews were much appreciated.