Chapter 3
Soundtrack – Eros Ramazzotti «Un Cuore Con Le Ali»
"I have some news for you."
Draco was too relaxed to listen to the news. They were laying in a huge luxurious bed, completely naked, barely covered by sheets. It was stuffy in the room, but they haven't even had the strength to open the window. Draco was gradually drifting off to sleep. But it wasn't meant to be – Elisa insistently pushed him in the back:
"Draco, the news is very important."
With a frustrated groan, Draco turned to her. El was already sitting on the bed, wrapped in a sheet as if it was a Greek toga. There was something in her hand... A letter? Draco leaned against the mattress.
"What's this?"
"What does it look like?" El answered nervously. "It's from my father's brother, Lorenzo. Draco, this is crazy."
Draco stared at her blankly. El told him about her family: her mother she'd lost as a child, her father had been a pure-blood noble wizard in Italy but died under mysterious circumstances two years ago, leaving El to deal with his debts without any support. But this was the first time Draco had heard of Lorenzo.
Seeing his obvious confusion, Elisa continued:
"This is my uncle. Ten years ago he left without telling anyone exactly where he was going. For a while we thought he was dead."
She spoke nervously, abruptly, as if every word was a little torture for her. Draco sat up on the bed. Not a trace of drowsiness remained.
"He regularly wrote that everything was fine, but it was impossible to trace his location: all owls returned with our undelivered letters, apparently never getting to him."
Her voice faded away:
"He didn't even come to my father's funeral."
Draco looked up sharply. It had been a long time since he'd seen El so excited and depressed at the same time. Usually, Elisa could find the upside in any trouble and get sincerely distracted from the problem at the same time, but the letter she received from Lorenzo clearly knocked her out of the rut. Apparently, the situation was pretty serious, and Draco, was pretty damn annoyed that El had never told him about this part of her family history. She had learned everything that Draco thought she should know about him, of course: the Malfoys had always been known for their terseness and for not saying more than absolutely necessary. This skill has saved the life of Lucius and his entire family more than once. Draco smiled grimly – you can't run away from fate forever: even his father's vaunted talent for getting out of any shit had failed him.
Draco was distracted from his thoughts of Lucius by a rustle as El began to fiddle with the letter. She was biting her lip nervously, and there was confusion in her eyes.
"He says he wants to see us. At "La Bella Magnolia"."
Draco's mouth dropped open in surprise. He hadn't expected such a turn. But at the same time, the picture of what was happening instantly turned into dark colours in Draco's head, which got reflected on his face. Elisa knew that look, that wry, bitter smile that didn't bode well, so she involuntarily cringed beforehand, waiting for Draco's words as a sentence.
"Not a bad place to meet after a long time away from your devastated niece, El," Draco said in a frighteningly nonchalant voice, and got up from the bed. His eyes were drawn to a half-empty bottle of collectible Firewhiskey of special aging: he liked to sip on a glass when he was in a special mood. Apparently, the moment of that "special mood" has come.
El swallowed involuntarily.
"Mmm… I think I've been through this before," Draco casually splashed Firewhiskey into his glass and pointedly stared into the distance. "Let me guess, El. Your dear uncle was once sitting in an abandoned pub at the edge of the world drinking his sixth glass of strong liquor when he heard from one of the drunks that his long-abandoned and ruined niece, Elisa Carrera, has a rich boyfriend. Yes, it's not just a boyfriend, it's Draco Malfoy himself, the heir to a huge fortune. And what about Lorenzo? After all, he's clearly not a fool if he managed to hide his whereabouts for so long, leading all of you a dance. He foresaw that, obviously, the Malfoy boy is ready to help in this difficult situation not only the beloved niece of Lorenzo, but also, out of the kindness of his heart, her entire family. And since he's the last living member of your family, it's logical to assume that he'll get a big piece of the pie too! And then Lorenzo thought: why not go to the Magnolia, while there is still an opportunity to milk Draco Malfoy? I suppose two or three thousand Galleons won't be a big hit on his pocket, and Lorenzo, under the guise of a happy family reunion, will be able to taste exclusive scaly tartlets with pumpkin reduction, enjoying the massage given him by a pretty witch from the cover of "Naughty Magic"!"
Draco took a sip from his glass and gave El a sharp look. She looked like she wanted to destroy him in the most unpleasant way, and he couldn't blame her for that. And what on Earth did she expect from him: did she really expect to soften him and make him believe in the pure intentions of her suddenly revealed uncle?! Unlikely. El knew the real Draco, the way the war had made him: dark, withdrawn, cynical and selfish. Malfoy was cruel and at the same time disgustingly straightforward. All of these qualities that he summarized in himself, Draco called one simple word – realism.
Draco smiled bitterly, as if his face was going to fume from Elisa's burning gaze.
"Oh no, don't give me that look, baby: you know, I always say what I think," he thought, trying to convey the words to her mind.
Draco expected El to hit him, scream, stomp his feet, curse him, and was even ready to accept it, but instead of all the executions, she just exhaled loudly and somehow went limp.
Draco looked at her in surprise. And he really thought he'd seen through El, thought he could predict her every move, but he couldn't be more wrong. Merlin, this is truly a night of discoveries. Elisa sat down exhaustedly on the bed and stared at one point. Draco silently put down his glass and took a step, but then El's hand shot up sharply, blocking his path.
Tension hung in the air.
"You think you're right, as always? Don't you, Draco?"
El lifted her head and looked defiantly at Malfoy. Her gaze was strained, but at the same time focused, as if she knew something that only she could understand.
"It was just my guess," Draco said softly. "And after all, you remember perfectly well the story of Parkinson and her unexpectedly "sick" cousin. It's just my experience, El, nothing more."
Draco knew he might have gone too far, but he didn't want to take back his words. And even more so, he wasn't in the mood for a showdown right now. Frankly speaking, he didn't like to argue and quarrel with women at all. It always gives him terrible headaches.
"You don't know a damn thing, Draco Malfoy. Apparently, your talent as a diviner died in you at the very moment when you tried to recreate the true picture of what happened to Lorenzo," El said wearily with a slight contempt.
Malfoy just grinned.
"Merlin forbid me to have such a talent, El. Although I have heard somewhere that after a second bottle of sherry even I might obtain it."
Draco almost smiled as he remembered bespectacled dragonfly Trelawney, who often gave heartening death predictions to Potter and his golden crew. She was especially at her best just when, along with her broken drunken speech, a persistent smell of sherry, that Sibyl apparently had the day before, spread through the classroom.
"You shouldn't be smiling, Draco," Elisa said with grim triumph. "You were so wrong that maybe it will finally make you rethink your attitude towards people a little. Unfortunately for you, not everyone around you is a self-serving bastard who wants to make money at your expense."
El stood up abruptly and began to eagerly pick up her clothes from the floor, putting them on along the way. Draco watched her with interest. He couldn't wait to hear the truth, and El's behavior certainly amused him. She must have thought she'd hurt him – she looked too smug right now, but still it was clear that she was having second thoughts. At that moment, Elisa reminded him of Granger in some way when she thought she'd put him, Draco Malfoy, in his place. Stupid Mudblood. If anyone could put him in his place, it was his father and the Dark Lord, not without help of Unforgivable Curses.
Finally, Elisa straightened to her full height, readjusted her dress and exhaled:
"He owns the Magnolia and has been there at the resort for the last ten years. That's why owls were coming back – even now, no one knows for sure where it is and how to get there. The Magnolia isn't on any map, but I've heard rumors that it's somewhere near Italy. And, nevertheless, everything is kept in the strictest secrecy, although it's not surprising: you'll not find a second place of this kind in the world, no matter how hard you try."
Draco was not just impressed, he was dumbfounded, but outwardly he must have looked unperturbed with the same slight smirk on his face. Good on her – El pulled out a trump card from the deck. Of course, he had heard about the Magnolia more than once: his father's friends often visited this resort. But Lucius himself would always choose work over resting, if that's what you call his disgusting attempts to launder and make money on everything he touched. Draco knew that the owner of the Magnolia was the richest magician in the wizarding world, but his identity was a mystery to everyone. Draco kept in mind that there were rumors that Lucius was the very wizard, but he never made any comments on the matter. He always reacted this way to gossip that might be good for his reputation.
"But you said that your family was broke and mired in debt, when in fact it turns out that your uncle is alive and well, drinking coconut milk on the seashore, and more so, he's one of the richest wizards in the world?!" Draco asked scornfully. "Pff! He left you and your family at the most difficult time, and now writes letters and asks you to come visit?! This is too much even for me, El!"
She stared into Draco's face for a while, as if she was looking for something important in it at that very moment, but... Most likely, she saw only her reflection in his cold eyes. El bitterly turned away and walked to the window. Draco felt a little guilty, because he was well aware that during all the time they known each other, not once she had seen the warmth in his gaze. Yes, Draco was laughing and smiling at Elisa, but he felt that somewhere deep inside there was still a painful emptiness that had once burned through his iris and seemed to have permanently deprived his eyes of the ability to express emotions. And he's used to it, but El still isn't.
Draco watched Elisa's motionless silhouette, saw how uneasy she was breathing, barely coping with emotions. Now he didn't know what to expect from her, although, he was quite familiar with her peculiar personality. Sometimes Elisa was overly emotional, like a true Italian, but at times even Draco could envy her icy equanimity. Like, for example, when they'd sat at a table in that old dilapidated pub, and she'd coolly told him the story of her hard life.
Elisa was from an ancient pure-blood dynasty. Their family was considered one of the richest and most noble in Italy. El's mother was English and aristocratic, her father was a pure-blood Italian. Completely dissimilar in character, they still fell in love and got married just a couple of months after meeting. It was the perfect union of two pure-blood families, and everything would have worked out perfectly if not for the sudden death of El's mother. It turned out that she had suffered from a rare disease since early childhood, and in Italy the disease began to progress. The best doctors in the wizarding world fought for her life, but couldn't help. After the death of El's mother, the Carrera family's life went downhill. It was as if her father had gone mad, had got involved in some dangerous business tied to blood and money, which had finally led him to being framed. At first, the Carreras went broke, and after that, El's father mysteriously disappeared into the blue. Elisa, who was used to live in luxury and wealth, was left to fend for herself, completely unprepared for such a life. Her father was soon found dead near their estate. There were no injuries on the body, and the examination was unable to establish how and why he died. At the funeral, there was only El and a couple of close friends who trusted her father until the very end. But the man she was so eager to see at that moment never showed up. And that man was Lorenzo.
Elisa sniffed. Draco suspected that they were now thinking the same thing: shattered hopes, the collapse of a family, and a complete loss of respect. They had both experienced it, their fates were too similar.
Draco walked over to Elisa and touched her shoulder lightly. She took a deep breath and turned to face him. There were tears in her eyes, but there was also a stubborn determination.
"I know you can't understand this, Draco! But I'm sure there was a reason. There was a damn reason for everything! And I won't give up until I know what happened to Lorenzo then, what happened to my father. Draco, I know I have to go there! I have to, do you understand? I feel that this is the only way for me to get some answers!" El wiped her tears with the back of her hand. "Do you believe me, Draco? Do you trust me? If so, just try to accept it!"
Draco stared into her tear-stained face, unable to utter a single word. He knew it was pointless to argue this time. He would go to the Magnolia, since it was so important to her. But the feeling of anxiety didn't go away: Draco was sure that the trip wouldn't go as smoothly as he would have liked. He felt with all his heart that something was going to happen, something that would turn the usual order of things upside down. It was the same feeling he'd had when he'd met El, but this time it felt like it would be different. Malfoy wrinkled, trying to push away the disturbing thoughts.
It was night outside, and the moon was generously flooding it with light. The thing was that the light was deceptive and didn't give a single drop of warmth. Draco smiled grimly: it reminded him his own life – bright but meaningless.
They arrived in Cobham exactly at seven in the morning, following the instructions in the official letter with the Magnolia's symbol. The guide was already waiting at the place – a swarthy boy of about nineteen years old, who spoke excellent English with a slight accent. He was dressed impeccably in ironed white trousers and a shirt, over the top was a light uniform robe with an embroidered magnolia flower on the chest. His whole appearance exuded nobility and some kind of unshakable, almost palpable inner strength. Ron snorted in disdain and pointedly turned away when Hermione and Ginny involuntarily admired the beauty of the Italian, which, apparently, reflected on their faces. After exchanging glances, the two friends shook their heads reproachfully: not like anything else could be expected from Ron.
It was unusually hot weather in London, and everything seemed like it was about to melt, liquify like butter on a frying pan. The guy who introduced himself as Matteo led them towards a small park, past the Sunday market and shopping malls. The Muggles were completely oblivious to them, which was odd enough considering the appearance of the guide. He was holding an antique walking stick with a magnolia carved on the end, and Hermione guessed that it was probably a portal.
Finally, they came out to a beautiful deserted park with a small pond, that they started walking towards, but Matteo stopped them and asked to prepare their documents. While Hermione and Ginny rummaged in their small-looking purses, the Italian cast a spell on the surrounding area, explaining this with additional security measures.
Soon the necessary papers were found, and Matteo began to carefully check them, muttering under his breath charms unknown even to Hermione. Everyone felt a bit uncomfortable as soon as he began using this complex magic to examine everybody present. Goosebumps ran through the body, despite the abnormal heat, and no one could say for sure what was the reason: the icy steam that enveloped everyone in a white haze due to magic, or the strong, unearthly voice of Matteo, fully conveying the powerful energy of the owner.
It took at least half an hour before the friends were finally told to stand in a circle and touch the cane with their fingers. Matteo looked at everyone intently, then smiled and said imperiously:
"Well, benvenuti ne "La Bella Magnolia"!" *
And at that very second they lifted off the ground and in a whirlpool rushed into the unknown. Soon, their feet hit the ground, and, unable to maintain balance, everyone fell together on the gravel, soft as a fluffy carpet. Only Matteo landed with a feline grace, as if he made such journeys through the portal every day. Ron jumped up first and gave the Italian a nasty look before offering his hand to Hermione. With a dry thanks, she got up, dusted off her knees and finally looked straight ahead.
She didn't even bother to stop Ron when he swore savagely. To be honest, she was unable to utter a single word: she was so struck by what was in the front of her.
"Oh, Merlin, this is paradise!" Ginny breathed enthusiastically, and Hermione silently agreed with her.
Above them towered a truly masterpiece palace of Renaissance architecture, crowned with a painted spherical dome right in the center. The huge hotel, designed in the single style, amazed the imagination with its beauty and luxury. It was impossible to say exactly what kind of color scheme was inherent in it: there were highlights of turquoise, pink, gold, coral, burgundy and many other shades. Perhaps the reason for this was the sunlight, reflected in the multi-colored ornamental glass windows with impressive cornices, or maybe a special magic. The friends eagerly examined every detail of this amazing structure. At the entrance to the palace, were elegant twisted columns, next to it circled creatures of unearthly beauty, which was noticeable even from such a distance: some of them played beautiful music on harps, others joyfully greeted the wizards and told them something.
"Veela!" Ron exclaimed, peering into the shimmering silhouettes of the beauties. "Ginny, you were right: we are in paradise!"
"Don't get overexcited: I don't want to visit you at St. Mungo's instead of resting at the Magnolia," Ginny said sarcastically.
However, Ron didn't listen to her: he, just like everyone else, was stunned by the splendor surrounding him, although, of course, the "splendor" of the Veela seemed much more interesting to him than the abstruseness of the palace architecture.
Right in front of the hotel, a majestic waterfall spread out in a three-level flowing cascade, surrounded by so many greenery and flowers that its abundance was rippling in the eyes. At each level, streams of fountains, made in the form of the finest magnolias, rose upward. The water, to match the palace, shimmered with all the colours of the rainbow, alternately transforming into the most diverse figures that the human imagination could imagine. Hermione saw a dancing couple, a few seconds later a huge bouquet of flowers, and then the figure of a lion, as if stepping towards the guests. On either side of the waterfall are wide glass staircases leading directly to the foot of the hotel.
Matteo waited patiently for the guests to come to their senses: it seemed that he had long been accustomed to the impression the Magnolia makes on everyone who sees it for the first time. Hermione had heard that the beauty of the palace was paralyzing, making it impossible to breath.
"I hope you like our "La Bella Magnolia"!" Matteo said with pride. Apparently, he had never met a wizard who wasn't impressed by it.
"This is the most beautiful place on Earth," Hermione whispered, unable to take her eyes off the splendor in front of her.
"Oh, bella, the most beautiful is yet to come!" the Italian beamingly smiled and looked at her so deeply that Hermione's cheeks turned red. She had heard about the passionate emotionality of Italians, and Matteo certainly had that quality.
At that very moment, with a dull clap, a house-elf appeared right in front of them, dressed in a white toga with the same magnolia symbol on his chest.
"Did you call me, Mr. Matteo?" the elf said with devoted reverence, looking at him.
"Yes, Bruno, please take the guests' belongings to their apartments," Matteo ordered, but at the same moment he looked worriedly at Hermione. "Is there something wrong, signorina?"
"No, everything is fine, but I'm able to carry my own things by myself," she answered carefully, looking at the elf with pity. Hermione continued to defend her position regarding the unfair treatment of house-elves. When she got a job in the Ministry of Magic, she repeatedly wrote to the Minister with a request to give her the opportunity to deal with cases about the rights of elves and other creatures of the wizarding world, but he answered with silence. Maybe he just didn't read them: Colman didn't have much time to deal with the "stupid quirks" of his employees. Anyway, that's what Hermione thought.
"Sorry, donna, but that's out of the question: the contract you signed stipulates that you give us every right to take care of you and your belongings, even if you consider it unnecessary. And your personal, during the vacation, house-elf Bruno will be happy to help you. You just need to call him."
Hermione wanted to protest, but Matteo continued calmly:
"Besides, we have a short walk around the hotel and some paperwork. Believe me, donna, you will be extremely uncomfortable even with such a small-looking bag."
Harry and Ron looked at each other and stifled a laugh: they knew perfectly well that Hermione had used her skills of ingenuity and magic to fit all the belongings of four friends in two small clutches.
"Therefore, signorina, please take only the essentials with you and follow me," Matteo finished gently, trying to suppress a smile.
Hermione looked at her purse with regret and took out the documents from it, handing it to Bruno. Ginny followed her example, and the house-elf, thanking them deeply, disappeared.
"Well, let's go?" Harry hugged Ginny and started to move after Matteo, who was already a few feet ahead of the guests.
Hermione and Ron followed in silence, and then Hermione realized that Ron was just as uncomfortable as she was, because the whole atmosphere of this beautiful place seemed to call for love, and there was also a happy couple in love looming ahead. To break the awkward silence, Ron asked:
"Well, Hermione, do you regret that you finally took a vacation and came here?"
Hermione sighed with relief: it was good that this awkward moment was over.
"I don't know, Ron. We have just arrived, but I really hope that my decision was correct."
Ron smiled broadly.
"There she is, the true Hermione Granger: worrying about the correctness of decisions, even when resting at the most luxurious resort in the wizarding world. Have you ever done something completely reckless, Hermione?"
"I think friendship with you can be considered the most reckless thing in my life," she chuckled, and almost bumped into Ginny, who suddenly stopped.
They were at the foot of the beautiful staircase. Matteo climbed a few steps and turned:
"Dear guests, before you step on the threshold of "La Bella Magnolia", I would like to tell you a few things. So, for starters, you cannot Apparate on the territory of the Magnolia, unless you are a house-elf or a working staff member. Therefore, try to get used to walking for one month. But now the most important information that you should know and remember from the moment of signing the contract. As you probably already know, "La Bella Magnolia" is one of the most mysterious and amazing places in the world. Here patients recover from even the most incurable diseases, the souls of wizards find peace and harmony, problems are surprisingly getting solved, and true desires and dreams come true. Therefore, by signing a contract with us, you are obliged to accept our help, no matter how strange it may seem, and participate in all the events that you will learn about from letters daily. It's possible that each of you will be required to attend different events separately, depending on the current need of your soul. So there is no turning back. As soon as you see the letter, know that you must unconditionally follow the instructions provided in it. And remember, everything that will happen to you here, even the most improbable and unpredictable, will ultimately have a beneficial effect on your life, even if at first it doesn't seem so to you.
Hermione looked at Matteo with great shock. She glanced back and then realized that the others also hadn't expected it to be so... Serious? Matteo, on the other hand, gazed at their faces with a mysterious smile.
Hermione was the first to pull herself together.
"Excuse me, sir, did I understand correctly: are we obliged to do everything that the Magnolia offers us, even if we don't want to?" she asked warily, hoping that her fears wouldn't be justified.
"Quite right, signorina," Matteo replied cheerfully, but apparently seeing the horror on Hermione's face as she imagined the most unpleasant things in her life, he added with a wide smile: "Don't worry, bella, we try to make our guests comfortable, so you won't do anything reprehensible, unless you want to."
The Italian gave her a meaningful look, which made her snort and look away. Here's more nonsense! Hermione was outraged by this turn of events, because she never even got a chance to study the contract properly, which she almost hastily signed, urged by Ginny. Maybe she hadn't let her read it all on purpose, because she was afraid Hermione might change her mind. But Ginny seemed just as puzzled as Hermione right now, frowning slightly as she crossed her arms.
"But most people don't know what they want," Matteo continued, suddenly becoming thoughtfully serious." And only here they can finally understand themselves and face their true desires. It doesn't always go unnoticed, and it takes a lot of courage. Whether you are ready to change at the behest of the Magnolia – we will find out right now."
"Don't tell me that we have to meet Boggarts: they have a habit of transforming into creepy spiders," said Ron, shivering. It seems that he didn't quite understand Matteo's words about the hotel, fate and obligations, but he hoped that they wouldn't ask too much of him.
"No, you won't see a Boggart here, unless you brought it with you in one of those lovely purses," Matteo grinned. "All you have to do is just to walk up the stairs. You will experience a little strange sensation, but don't be afraid: this is a special magic of the Magnolia. It's absolutely safe and at the same time helps to find out whether you can relax at the resort and withstand everything that it has prepared for you. So follow me and... Buona fortuna! **
With that, Matteo swiftly turned around and strode up. The friends hesitated for a moment, amazed by what they had just heard. They were so engrossed and excited about their upcoming vacation in such a posh place that they signed papers without even looking, which apparently doomed them to something more than lying down on the beach.
"I had doubts about this from the start," Harry said defensively. "Probably, it wasn't the best idea to accept the vouchers. I'm sorry."
"Oh, I don't know, Harry, if we can ever forgive you for that," Ginny said thoughtfully. "It's so terrible that you gave us the opportunity to stay at the best resort in the wizarding world, which, moreover, promises a lot of adventures and new experiences!"
Ginny happily threw her arms around Harry's neck.
"Thanks, sweetie! This is the best gift ever!"
He hugged her awkwardly, and looked at Ron and Hermione with an uncertain smile.
"Sorry, I didn't know that everything is on such strange terms here."
"It's all right Harry!" Ron smiled good-naturedly. "For the sake of such a vacation, it's not a sin to tolerate the whims of this place. Moreover, it's our own fault that we didn't study the contract properly. Right, Hermione?"
Ron looked at her pointedly, apparently praying that she wouldn't say anything unnecessary. After all, as soon as she makes it clear with just one word that Harry has dragged them into another awkward story, he will begin to reproach himself. He still couldn't fully get over the fact that his loved ones were forced to suffer simply from the fact that their friend's name was Harry Potter. Hermione knew that Harry took the death of close friends pretty heavily: Sirius, Fred, Lupin and Tonks, as well as everyone who died in that brutal war. He was sure that it was all his fault, and only Ron, Hermione and Ginny made Harry throw these gloomy thoughts out of his head with incredible efforts. But in fact, Hermione knew that the war had left a huge wound in Harry's heart that would never close completely, even if the pain diminished over time. So maybe this resort can help him?
She'd like to believe that.
Hermione took a deep breath and finally said:
"Thank you Harry. I'm sure this will be our best vacation in a lifetime!"
She smiled softly at him, although her heart was restless. So far everything seemed too incomprehensible and even unreal.
"Don't be afraid, it's not scary at all! Just go up the steps!" suddenly they heard a voice, and the friends looked up – Matteo was already at the very top of the stairs.
"Is anyone here afraid?" Ginny asked in a loud voice. "Well, then I'll go first, sissies!"
With these words, she, jumping over several steps on the way, rushed up.
"No way!" Harry ran after.
Ron turned to Hermione.
"Well, let's go?"
"Sure," Hermione replied, and carefully stepped up the first step. She felt a slight chill, but she didn't feel any other sensations. Emboldened, Hermione began to confidently ascend the stairs. Her figure was surrounded by a halo of sunlight she rose towards, anticipating that from that moment her fate would change dramatically.
"Now it's your turn, signorina. Please, follow me," Hermione followed Matteo down a cobbled path surrounded by the same abundance of flowers and plants.
She was impressed by the magnificence of this beautiful place and was now looking forward to seeing her hotel room. Harry, Ginny and Ron were already shown to their rooms: to the pleasant surprise of their friends, the accommodation were seemingly small and neat bungalows, which were located very close to the sea and the main building of the Magnolia. As Matteo explained, all guests live in bungalows, but each one is unique. Hermione was amazed to learn that almost the entire huge palace, which greeted them with its luxury at the very beginning, turned out to be an administrative building, where all kinds of rooms for the entertainment of wizards were located, from the library to a hall with a real Quidditch field inside. In addition, the palace housed rooms for the staff permanently working at the Magnolia, but there were no guest rooms in there.
Suddenly Matteo stopped and turned to Hermione. "This is your bungalow, signorina," Hermione stepped closer to the Italian and looked to her right. Her bungalow with a small glass staircase leading to it, was on a hill, but generally looked the same as the one's her friends had. Hermione felt a thrill: she was terribly interested in what was inside. "Your things are already in place. If you need something, just say it out loud – the house-elf you saw upon your arrival at the Magnolia will appear."
Hermione frowned slightly; she didn't want to exploit the poor elf at all. Matteo noticed her expression and said affirmatively rather than asking:
"Are you worried about the elves, donna? You have a good heart, but believe me, Bruno will gladly serve you! He likes his job."
Hermione sighed and shook her head.
"You don't understand, signor. House-elves are like people: sometimes they don't know what they want."
"But this elf – I assure you, signorina, – knows what he wants. He's at "La Bella Magnolia", and everyone realizes their true desires here," the Italian smiled mysteriously. "And please, call me Matteo."
Hermione folded her arms across her chest and stared into his face for a while.
"So you also can call me Hermione," she finally answered with a slight smile, but immediately added: "Tell me, sig... Matteo, what will happen if I refuse to participate in one of your events because I'm, let's say, feeling unwell?"
Matteo looked at her intently.
"You will go home immediately, Hermione, and the doors of the Magnolia will be closed for you forever. You see, a very ancient magic is at work here – this place seems to sense you, literally reads your destiny and your true desires. Therefore, if something threatens your life or carries a potential danger, you simply won't receive an invitation letter to any event, and you can do whatever you want. But if the letter did arrive..." Matteo made a significant pause and continued: "Then you must appear in the right place at the right time! Now, with your permission, I'll go to meet the other guests. Have a good rest, bella!" With these words Matteo Apparated.
Hermione was confused. True desires, letters, events, ancient magic... All this was too much for the first day of stay at the resort, even if it was so picturesque. Hermione decided to think it over later, and now she was climbing the glass sills to her bungalow. Finally, she stopped inches from the door and suddenly realized that she didn't even have a key. Hermione jerked the handle – closed. Then she took out her wand and tried to open the door with the help of spells – to no avail. This circumstance got on her nerves. She was about to go back and look for Matteo, when she suddenly heard a melodious female voice. It felt like an echo and was speaking to her: "Hermione Granger lives here. If you are Hermione Granger, then you must know which dish you loved the most as a child."
Hermione shuddered and looked around for the source of the sound, but the attempt was in vain. She was discouraged that she knew very little about the Magnolia. None of the books contained anything, but general information about this amazing place. Moreover, she had no idea how to open doors to the hotel rooms. Hermione sighed and answered at random into the void: "I am Hermione Granger, and as a child my favorite dish was an apple pie."
"The answer is correct. Welcome home, Hermione Granger," the voice answered evenly, and the door opened.
Hermione stepped inside uncertainly and froze. Her heart was beating fast: she found herself in a small, cozy room with a huge window taking up the entire wall and this, undoubtedly, was the room of her dreams. Made in white with bright accents in the interior of green, yellow and red, it seemed to radiate positive energy. Hermione hastily kicked off her sandals and stepped barefoot on the warm wood of the parquet. She immediately noticed that the bungalow seemed much smaller from the outside than this room: evidently, it was not without the enchantment of increasing the inner space.
Everything around was flooded with sunlight, thanks to a huge window overlooking a small green garden with flowers and a white wooden gazebo with a tea table in the middle. In the room itself, to the right and left, there were several more doors – apparently, Hermione was in the living room. So where are the other doors leading to? She decided to find out right after she'd be done examining this room. In the center was a cozy white sofa with colorful bright pillows, right in front of it was a fluffy rug that one would want to drown in. On either side of the room were large bookcases, filled with books. Hermione rushed to one of them and enthusiastically began to read the titles of tomes that were already dear to her heart: almost all the books were in her native language, which she was very happy about. More than that, she had intended to read most of them for a long time now!
But Hermione was most excited about an old white leather-bound book called "The Story of La Bella Magnolia". Hermione hated not to know something, and the Magnolia was still a big mystery to her. So Hermione in awe, took the book from the shelf and plopped down on the soft sofa – she was eager to start reading. It seemed that it wasn't long before there was a knock on the door. Hermione flinched at the unexpected sound and hurried to open it after putting the book aside. Ginny was smiling in the doorway.
"Hermione, this is amazing," without further ado she flew into the room and froze as if lost in thought. "Wow! Your bungalow is much better than Ron's! It's all too orange."
"Everyone just got what they wanted," Hermione closed the door behind her friend, who was rather a tornado named Ginny Weasley. "So what is so amazing you wanted to tell me?"
Ginny, looking around the room with delight, seemed to pull herself up and turned quickly: "Everything, Hermione! Everything here is amazing! It seems that a special magic really does work in this place, turning our life into a fairy tale! In my room with Harry, we have such a bed, like – you won't believe it! Almost the entire bedroom is one large bed! And how convenient it is…"
"Ginny, stop it, I don't have to hear another story about your mind-blowing sex with Harry," Hermione hastily stopped her. She was still wildly embarrassed when Ginny talked so frankly to her on intimate topics.
"As you wish, my dear," Ginny said in a deliberately calm tone flashing her eyes, but immediately exclaimed: "But the sex was amazing!"
Hermione nudged Ginny lightly with her elbow, making her laugh. No, this girl will never change!
"Okay, Miss Prude, let's take a look at your shelter! Show me around."
Ginny looked impatiently at Hermione, which made her slightly hesitant.
"To be honest, I was so carried away by "The Story of La Bella Magnolia" that I haven't even had a chance to study everything properly," she replied with confusion and seeing Ginny's reaction immediately added: "And don't you look at me like that!"
"Oh, Merlin, as always, Hermione! Let's fill in your gaps later this afternoon."
"When's the lunch time?" Hermione changed the subject with relief, putting the book in place.
"Right now," Ginny replied calmly.
Hermione froze for a moment. She didn't even have time to take a shower, to unpack, and there is a lunchtime already?! Hermione remembered very well that when she entered the room, she had three whole hours at her disposal. Has she really spent this much time reading? As if in response to a question, Ginny said:
"Sometimes I think, Hermione, your life will be over before you can finish reading another "must-read" book."
"But they all really are a "must-read"! And "The Story of La Bella Magnolia" is even more so," Hermione bristled. "Besides, now I've at least started to understand a little about everything that happens here."
"Well, the fact that our rooms are arranged a la "the Room of Requirement", I realized without your book," Ginny grinned and immediately added: "Okay, I'll give you fifteen minutes to get ready, meanwhile I'll find our goofs.. I think they said something about the Quidditch field. When you will be ready, just come to the Great Hall - we will wait for you."
"I won't be long," promised Hermione, annoyed that on the very first day she showed unpunctuality. Even on vacation, she couldn't afford to fully relax: the habit of being responsible was firmly ingrained in her mind. Ginny nodded and danced out of the bungalow. Hermione sighed: she wished she could be so full of energy and easy-going. As for work, yes, she was ready to jump off the spot at any minute giving herself up to her duties as much as possible. But outside of work, she often had the felling that life was just passing by. Hermione was a crazy workaholic, and it was almost impossible to get her to go out. Ginny probably didn't know how right she was. But worst of all, Hermione knew it too, she just didn't know what to do about it.
In hastily she put on the first sundress that came to hand, with her hair not dried after a shower, Hermione literally flew into the Great Hall. On her way here, she managed to get lost several times, which made her another fifteen minutes late. And now she was frantically looking around, trying to find familiar faces. Finally, Hermione saw Matteo nearby.
"Good afternoon, signor! Could you…" she literally flew up to him, but he gestured her with his hand to stop talking.
"We seem to have agreed, bella, that I will be just Matteo, and you — Hermione. Isn't it so?" he smiled broadly at her.
Hermione shook her head nervously. "Yes, I'm sorry, I just can't readjust. I'm looking for my friends, can you tell me where they are?"
"Of course, follow me," answered Matteo and turning gracefully walked along the hall.
Hermione followed him and finally looked around the room she was in. Like everything in this resort, the Magnolia's Great Hall was magnificent. In some ways it resembled the Great Hall of Hogwarts, only it was much larger and brighter. Instead of four long tables, there were hundreds of small ones with fluttered around hotel employees in uniform robes with an embroidered magnolia on the chest. They were all handsome, friendly and polite, and Hermione was absolutely sure that many of them had Veela in their heritage. The tables surrounded a large stage with some magical band currently playing on it– Hermione seemed to have seen its picture in one of Ginny's magazines. Unobtrusive Latin American rhythms spread throughout the hall, and some even danced to the beat of the melody. Hermione was pleased to note that all the wizards who were here looked happy and friendly, although most of them were, by far, one of the richest magicians in the wizarding world.
To Hermione's pleasant surprise, there wasn't a drop of the outward insolence and arrogance in them, which she was so used to seeing at Hogwarts from the side of Slytherins, who came from rich and noble pure-blood families. Yes, they loved to emphasize the high position of their parents and simply loved to "point out the true place" to people like her. Imagination immediately slipped the image of Draco Malfoy to Hermione – who most of all poisoned her life at Hogwarts. She shuddered: she didn't even want to remember the humiliation she had to experience because of this vile Slytherin boy with his faithful gang. Hermione thanked Merlin for not seeing Malfoy's haughty face in years, and sincerely hoped she would never see him again.
After the war ended, Hermione and Ginny returned to Hogwarts to finish education and receive their high school diplomas. Too few seventh years decided to follow their example, but to Hermione's amazement, Malfoy also returned to school with Blaise Zabini, although their appearance was like snow in the summer. But, fortunately, they behaved quite well and, moreover, didn't attract much attention, and therefore their presence at Hogwarts went almost unnoticed by Hermione, with the exception of rare skirmishes at recess.
Hermione forced herself to push the dark memories out of her head and just then saw Ginny waving at her. Hermione waved back and turned to Matteo.
"Thank you very much for your help," she said sincerely.
"Prego ***, Hermione," Matteo bowed slightly. Buon appetito ****! And now I'm forced to return to my duties." He turned on his heel and walked away. Hermione smiled after him, and then hurriedly walked towards her friends. They sat near a large window at a twisted white table with a vase of fragrant fresh magnolias on it, a bottle of fine white wine, and four filled glasses.
"Finally! It already seemed like you wouldn't come," Ron muttered displeasedly, following Matteo with his eyes. "Now it's clear what took up so much of your time, or rather, who."
"Oh shut up, Ronald," Ginny rolled her eyes. "We barely arrived, and you're already jealous of her over every pillar!"
"It's none of your business what I do and don't do," Ron snapped back, blushing slightly.
"Stop it, you two!" Hermione said sternly, sitting down at their table, but then added more gently: "And forgive me for being late – I got completely lost in time."
"It's okay Hermione, we just got here ourselves not long ago," Harry smiled at her, leaning relaxed against the back of his chair. "There's an amazing Quidditch court on the fifth floor here! Ron and I decided to try it out a bit."
"Yes, and that "a little" dragged on for a good two hours," Ginny stated. "Anyway, it doesn't matter! I say we have a drink to the first day of the most amazing and mind blowing vacation in your entire life!" With that she raised her glass, and the others readily followed her example. Normally, Hermione didn't drink alcohol, but on rare occasions she could afford a glass of good wine. This was one of those occasions. "And thank you Harry for giving us this great opportunity!" Ginny added solemnly.
"Here's to you!" Friends cheered and took a sip.
"Mmm, amazing!" stated Ron. "Hopefully we'll be served wine for lunch every day."
"Italians traditionally drink wine with meals," said Hermione. "And "La Bella Magnolia" was founded by Italians. We are located somewhere close to Italy, so most of the traditions that are observed here are inherent in Italian people."
"These Italians aren't half bad," Ron said relaxed after draining his glass to the bottom. "With rare exceptions, of course."
Hermione exchanged glances with Ginny and decided not to argue again. Ron still treated her like his girlfriend, despite the fact that they hadn't been a couple for six months now. But this didn't stop him from being jealous of her as if they were still together.
At this moment, somewhere very close, a clear female voice with a slight Italian accent suddenly exclaimed: "Oh Merlin, Ginny, Ginny Weasley, is that you?"
Hermione turned and saw a beautiful black-haired witch staring at Ginny in delightful surprise. Ginny had a similar reaction.
"Yes, but... Holy Merlin, El, is that really you?!" Ginny even got up from her chair in shock.
"Damn it," Ron muttered, trying to cover his face with his hand, but it was pointless. The brunette, whose name was apparently El, looked at him and was even more delighted: "Ginny, Ronnie is here too!"
At her words, Ron blushed to the tips of his ears and said with a slight indignation: "I'm glad to see you too, Elisa."
At that moment, Ginny threw her arms around girls neck. "Incredible, El! Merlin, it's so great to see you again!" She exclaimed happily, squeezing Elisa in her arms. "How many years has it been! I thought something has happened to you!"
"A lot has happened, Ginny," El said sadly, gently pushing her aside, but as if she had driven away her gloomy thoughts, she instantly cheered up. "It's incomprehensible, we are meeting for the second time at the resort! Perhaps it's written!"
"Yeah, the first time we've met is impossible to forget," Ron smiled grimly, and Hermione suddenly remembered Ginny's story that while on vacation in Egypt, they met a real tomboy who lived with her father in a villa not far from their own small cabin. Elisa was Ginny's age and spoke excellent English, although she herself had lived in Italy since birth. Her father had some common affairs with Charlie, so children got to spend a lot of time together. Ginny was laughing about how El loved to make fun of Ron along with Fred and George. They were fascinated with her activeness and liveliness, and therefore the twins often asked her to help them with their next prank. And El always agreed, because she easily managed to lead Ron a pretty dance, especially at the beginning of the vacation, when he even seemed to have a little crush on her. As for Ginny, she and El were inseparable. They had similar personalities, and they understood each other perfectly. Their only difference was that they came from families of different social classes, but according to Ginny, it was barely noticeable in their communication.
"Elisa, let me introduce you to my fiancé, Harry Potter, and our adorable friend Hermione Granger," Ginny said with some officialdom.
"Nice to meet you," Harry held out his hand a little discouraged.
"Me too, Mr. Potter," El shook his hand enthusiastically, glancing briefly at the famous scar. Apparently, she had heard a lot about the great Harry Potter, but the fact that he is Ginny's fiancé came as a surprise to her. Hermione was the next one to extend her hand.
"Very pleased."
"Me too, Hermione, me too!" El exclaimed hotly and shook her hand. Hermione involuntarily admired Elisa's beauty: the beautiful contrast of black, short, but thick hair, styled in a neat hairstyle, with pale, as if glowing skin, clearly distinguished her from the crowd. She had neat, characteristic Italian features: high cheekbones, sensual lips, a thin nose with a slight hump, and expressive eyes. And, of course, she was taller and more graceful than Hermione: Elisa's thinness was even a little unhealthy, but certainly suited her well. You could distinct her noble origin just by looking at her. Every movement, every gesture was so naturally soft and aristocratic that there was no doubt that she was born into a renowned pure-blood family.
"Accio chair!" Ginny said, pointing her wand at an unoccupied table. "Please, El!"
"Thank you," she smiled and sat down on the very edge. "Actually, I'm waiting for someone, so I'm with you just for a little while."
"I wonder who are you waiting for?" Ginny asked with a cunning eye, conjuring another glass and pouring wine into it.
"Well, if you're interested... It's my beloved one," Elisa smiled broadly. "I can't wait to introduce you to him! Although, you probably know him – he also studied at Hogwarts."
"Really? What's his name?" Ginny asked with a slight frown as she put the bottle back.
But suddenly Elisa beamed and energetically waved her hand, looking somewhere over Hermione's head. "And there he is!" she exclaimed happily.
Hermione watched as if in slow motion, as smiles slowly left the joyful faces of her friends. Ron's mouth twisted in displeasure, Harry bowed his head slightly and frowned, and Ginny just stared in amazement in the same direction as Elisa. She was the first to react by whispering: "Damn it."
"You better not turn around, Hermione," Ron warned her grimly, but she, trying not to believe in her worst fears, slowly turned and froze.
Draco Malfoy was literally three feet away from her.
* Benvenuti ne "La bella magnolia" (it.) – Welcome to "The Beautiful Magnolia!
** Buona fortuna (it.) – Good luck
*** Prego (it.) — You're welcome
**** Buon appetito (it.) – Bon appetit