A/N: And... we are off!

PS. I'm not a native or trained Italian speaker thus I have resorted to Google Translate and other sources on the Internet to guide me, so please forgive my humble attempt. You're more than welcome to correct me if they're wrong. See A/N at the bottom for translations :)

PPS. In light of JKR's recent statements, I feel obliged – to my fellow readers and LGBTQ+ allies – to assert that I do not concur with her beliefs and that this story in no way reflects said attitude.

As a child of the HP fandom and as a fanfic writer it's not easy coming out against the author who has created the very universe that has helped shape my childhood and youth and ultimately inspired me to write fanfics. But, on the other hand, the LGBTQ+ community is also something that is close to my heart and though I wish I could separate the art from the author in that sense, I feel I can't stay quiet in this matter.

By principle, everyone is entitled to their opinion and I believe in healthy, constructive debate and exchange of different opinions, rather than instant stan-or-cancel-culture. However, what JKR is advocating – given how powerful her voice is – is truly worrisome and hurtful to the trans-community.

Personally, I'm really just disappointed in JKR, given how many hearts and minds her books have touched and opened. That being said, the HP canon was never un-problematic to begin with, in terms of depicting race and sexuality (case in point).

I'll refer you to Daniel Radcliffe's amazing response to her statements, posted on The Trevor Project (Happy Pride Month btw!). Thank you for again for stopping by, and I urge you to go support your local LGBTQ+ (and BLM) aid organization. I hope you'll enjoy this chapter and that you all stay safe in these troublesome times.

Chapter 35: An Italian affair

"OK, wow."

Ginny stared, mouth ajar, as they arrived in front of Blaise's family residence. No, not just residence – a bloody mansion!

Looking behind her lay a mile-long, pine-enclosed driveway leading up to the house alone, surrounded by unoccupied, beautiful fields of Italian country in the simmering heat. There must be several hundred acres of land belonging to the estate.

Blaise emitted a non-committal sound beside her, clearly not as impressed by the sheer magnitude of his family wealth as she was, likely taking it for granted. He placed a gentlemanly hand at the small of her back, leading her stunned self towards the main entrance.

She hardly had the time to close her mouth and take it all in before the giant door was instantly opened by what looked like a regular butler.

Hm, no house-elf?, she thought, pleasantly surprised.

"Young Signore Blaise. Signorina," the butler greeted them courteously.

"Giacomo," Blaise returned with a nod.

"I hope you have fared well since your last visit, Signore Blaise?" Giacomo enquired in heavily accented English as he held the door open for them to enter into a spacious terracotta vestibule.

"I have, thank you," Blaise replied smoothly. "Allow me to introduce my escort, Ginevra Weasley." She gave a timid smile to the stoic butler who did a short bow in return.

"Signorina Weasley. Welcome." He gestured with a hand behind him. "La Signora awaits your arrival. Allow me to show you both to her."

Giacomo turned on his heel with perfected precision and they followed a couple of steps behind. They were led through one high-ceiled, columned room and decorated gallery after another, making Ginny's neck crick from looking upwards and around instead of where she was stepping and, as a result, stumbled every now and then across some of the large sandstone steps. Blaise shot her a wry smile as he gently prevented her from toppling over.

"Watch it," he joshed sotto voce, just as they arrived to a grand archway leading to an even grander room. The latter opened up to the most enchanting enclosed garden, filled with cool, shaded greenery and a beautiful, trickling fountain in the middle. Here the butler announced them, then stood aside.

Blaise dipped his mouth to her ear again. "I must warn you, my grandmother can be a little –"

"Blaise! Il mio ragazzo*!"

A captivating woman of the exact same complexion and poised build as Blaise shot up from a chaise longue where she had been reclining with a newspaper, instantly thrown aside, and came towards them in an elegant flurry of thick, colourful silk. Her hair was turbaned and she wore heavy, jingling gold earrings and bangles, reminding Ginny of the clothes worn by voodoo witches in certain areas of Africa and New Orleans. You wouldn't know this woman was a grandmother just by looking at her.

"Ciao, Nonna," Blaise greeted her less animatedly though nonetheless with unguarded warmth to his countenance that Ginny suspected few ever saw.

He was forced to let go of Ginny as he was enveloped in a tight hug by the Zabini matriarch and Ginny stood awkwardly aside, feeling almost like an intruder in this grand mansion and in front of this striking woman. She watched the two of them exchange a couple of pleasantries in Italian before the attention was turned to her.

"Ah, Gineevrra!" the older witch greeted her warmly, enthusiastically rolling her name in the Italian tongue, stepping forward and clasping Ginny's hand in her own bejewelled ones. "Benvenuto*! A pleasure to meet you! Il mio– ah, scusami, I am Aurelia. I have so been looking forward to meet you ever since Blaise told me about you, and I can see now why he is so smitten," she winked, making both Ginny and Blaise shift on their feet and clear their throats. Ginny's eyes cut covertly to Blaise, wondering what exactly he had told his grandmother about her.

Redirecting her attention to the older Zabini, she tried not to stare too obviously. She could certainly see where Blaise got his good looks from, high cheekbones and all. She was particularly struck by the shrewd gaze that met her and the most striking eye colour she had ever seen; reminiscent of the dark-golden hue that would, on a rare occasion, appear in her grandson's orbs.

With a bashful smile, Ginny managed to return the compliment, "I... I'm very pleased to meet you, too, Signora Zabini."

"Ah, no, no, no," the older woman protested profusely, "call me Aurelia, mia ragazza*." Looking Ginny over, her golden-brown eyes sparked. "Sei bella*!" she exclaimed and gave Blaise a meaningful look, continuing to say something in Italian that Ginny didn't understand but which sounded like further flattery. Blaise clearly got it, and though his dark complexion usually did a good job covering his blush, he looked rather discomfited. Ginny bit her lip from giggling. He cleared his throat and averted his gaze in his usual, derisive way when he tried too hard at appearing nonchalant. She had learned to read this act by now, and clearly his grandmother knew it all too well.

"Tsk! Blaise, don't be such a seccatura*in front of your old Nonna!" Aurelia chastised in a good-humoured tone and from Blaise's contrite expression it was clear who held the higher ground around the place. Ginny barely held back a snort. His grandmother quickly gave her all of her eager consideration again. "Forgive my grandson's impudenza*. He's always like this," she shot him another pointed glance, "but you must be used to his behaviour by now, no?" She smiled conspiratorially, the silky lustre of her enthralling eyes twinkling with warmth, and Ginny knew she already liked Blaise's grandmother immensely. The latter proceeded to lead her to the large sofa arrangements in the middle of the gigantic high-ceiled room with Blaise following behind. "Sit down, sit down! I want to hear everything about you!" the older witch declared. "Meanwhile I'll have Giacomo bring you some refreshments and antipasti."

She called for the butler who soon reappeared with a tray of ice-cold drinks. Ginny gratefully accepted one, having quickly realized how big a difference Italian spring was to Scottish spring; she was parched and already perspiring despite having dressed lightly. Or perhaps it was just nerves? Blaise, unsurprisingly, seemed unperturbed by the humidity; sipping, dignified, from his own drink before setting it aside. (Damn those Italian genes).

The butler was dismissed after having brought the delicious-looking snacks as well and Aurelia turned towards the two adolescents sitting in the expensive divan across from her.

"So. Ginevra," she smiled at Ginny. "Ah, such a– bel nome! A beautiful name! Did you know, 'Ginevra' is actually the Italian form of 'Guinevere'? I know my Babbano letteratura* and English ancestry, you know," Aurelia winked, and Ginny quelled another amused smile, peering over at Blaise who rolled his eyes dramatically.

"Nonna, please," he sighed.

"Si, Blaise. I am proud of it," Aurelia staunchly rebuffed. "And do not play ignorante with me, young man. I know you know Babbano history as well." She arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow (it seemed to run in the family), flashing him an added meaningful look to which he responded with a vague groan.

"Yes, si, Nonna, I know," he muttered and shifted in his seat. Ginny had never seen him so henpecked before but she guessed he bore great respect for his grandmother, and, admittedly, it was rather fun to watch him not being able to get away with his usual entitled, blasé act.

"Ah, but I have taught you better than that, Blaise," Aurelia admonished, looking at him with equal measures of love and sternness. "Especially in front of the ladies and your elders, no?"

Ginny suppressed another smile and Blaise, noticing it, shot her a betrayed leer from the corner of his eye which only made it all the more harder to hold back the laughter. Seemingly knowing the fight was lost beforehand, he sighed in acquiescence.

Still, he seemed more at home here; in this house, even in this sultry Italian heat, than in the dark, dank, Scottish castle back home, and there was genuine note of warmth infusing his voice when he changed the subject to a more conversational one. "I hope you have been well, Nonna?"

Aurelia's features brightened in a smile. "Si, Blaise, I have. My hands have been full with my volontariato – er, charity work," she explained with a gracious smile to Ginny, "And well, you know, everything else has calmed down here since the end of the war. We are all trying to find our places again."

"And… mother?" he inquired, likely out of polite duty, although his tone was reserved.

Aurelia tsked and gestured disappointedly with her hands. "Ah, no, mio caro ragazzo, your madre is not here. She rarely is. Mostly nella capital*, a casa a Portofino*, or travelling in Milano, Firenze, or what else, I know not," she all but scoffed with an emphatic wave of her hand, apparently not overly fond of her daughter's lifestyle decisions either. Then she noticed the hard-set look on Blaise's face and instantly turned towards him with a soft, sad expression. "Mi dispiace, tesoro*," she said, leaning forward, and laid a consoling, wiry hand on his knee.

Blaise merely harrumphed, as if he wasn't at all surprised by the answer, and looked away stiffly. Ginny too wanted to provide him some sort of comfort or support, surprising herself, but wasn't sure how or if he'd even appreciate it – or interpret it as pity – especially in front of his grandmother. Besides, she didn't even know his mother. He never mentioned her, after all. Maybe she was like any other snobbish Pureblood witch Ginny had the misfortune to encounter? Maybe she was 'the Black Widow' that the Wizarding tabloids so predictably had named her? Not that Ginny indulged or believed in anything written in those trash magazines that some of the other girls favoured. For pity's sake, she had been dragged through the mud enough already ever since she'd started affiliating herself with Harry. She knew what Rita Skeeter could concoct in that insipid little brain of hers and Ginny wouldn't believe her as far as she could throw her (though she wouldn't mind testing just how far that bitch could fly).

She found herself reaching for Blaise's right hand and squeezing it lightly, reassuringly, feeling some of his tension dissipate. The small action sent her mind back to the dinner at her parents' and the realization skipped within her chest.

Aurelia's observant eyes rested briefly on their joined hands, then she drew back, chasing away the initial sadness from her features. Its shadow was still somewhat present every time she glanced at Blaise, knowing he was more affected by the news of his mother than he let on.

"Now, cari figli*. Let me hear: How is school-life? Is everything well at Hogwarts?" Her attitude lighter, she snatched a canapé from the table in front of her.

An impatient noise came from Blaise. "Yes, Nonna, all is fine," he answered from his reclining position; one arm slung over the back of the couch, and received another subtly berating glare from his grandmother who returned her keen, curious eyes to Ginny.

"Are you happy about returning to school, Ginevra?" she continued in her slightly broken English. "I imagine it has not been easy. I understand you lost your brother and many friends? Le mie condoglianze. I am very sorry to hear, my dear." Surprised by her forwardness and deep-felt sympathy, Ginny quietly thanked her. Then Aurelia's face quickly took on a slightly more sardonic composure though not directed towards Ginny. "Of course, it has not been easy for Blaise either, but he is mostly to blame for himself. And his Mama." She scoffed under her breath, mumbling something that sounded like 'stupido', probably meant for the latter.

Blaise sighed heavily but Ginny ignored the remaining tension surrounding the subject and gave Aurelia a friendly smile. "Yes, I must say I am happy to be back at school – despite everything. To see it still standing there and walk the same halls and classrooms, to see everyone... remaining, alive and well, has been – good. Not always easy, but I'm getting there. We all are. I think."

She managed a trembling smile; more like a grimace, feeling her throat clench warningly. Blaise, who somewhere in-between had moved closer, leaned slightly into her, found her hand and subtly returned her previous gesture. She flashed him a brief if not grateful glance. Aurelia observed their silent exchange with interest.

"I understand, my dear. The First Wizarding War was orribile enough, ohimè*!" The older witch shook her head compassionately, missing Blaise's whisper of a sigh "Here we go again", and continued, "To think I should witness a second one within my lifetime – no, it was unthinkable back when the first one ended. We thought that – that creatura," Ginny wasn't sure who flinched first but she instinctively tightened the hold of Blaise's hand, "had been eliminated. We thought the nightmare was over but we were, what do you say? Ingenuo. Naïve. We all were."

She looked up with both the sorrow and the relief of a lifetime painted in her handsome features, leaning forward to grab Ginny's other hand in a hearty clutch.

"I could not be more happy and grateful that you young, brave people were able to finally put the nightmare to rest and find each other, despite the devastating cost I know you must have suffered."

Ginny gulped and nodded, squeezing her hand in return and for a moment sharing the weight of the pain with two people she never would have believed she'd one day be sharing such grave memories with.

"Ah, but enough with the gloomy minds!" Aurelia surprised her by standing up; still holding on to Ginny's hand, prompting them both to rise with her. She smiled warmly. "The war is over and you are in Italia now! Go enjoy the sun, your vacanze and each other! If you need anything, you can always come to me or simply ask Giacomo, si? Blaise –," and here she continued to talk to Blaise in hurried Italian; some practical instructions by the looks of it. Blaise simply nodded stoically with the slightly lacklustre "Si, Nonna" thrown in here and there, before Aurelia turned to address them both.

"And now, cari amici*, you must excuse me – I have business in town, but I'll be back this evening and until then, feel free to make yourselves at home." She finally unclasped Ginny's hand and kissed both their cheeks in true Italian fashion and with a "Ciao!" she was gone in a blur of colourful silk.

Blaise exhaled. "And that, ladies and gentlemen, was my grandmother."

Ginny stared star-struck in the direction Aurelia had Disapparated. "I think she's wonderful! And so beautiful!"

He merely made a gruff sound and shrugged his shoulders. Simultaneously, they both realized that their hands were still clasped, and they instantly let go of one another.

"Well," Blaise cleared his throat. "What do you say we'll get some rest? I'm knackered."

"Aww, poor you," Ginny mocked but with no real bite, trying to smooth over the moment of awkwardness, as she turned to him. "Tired of having to Apparate this far?"

He appeared mock-affronted for a second. "Damn right, I am! It requires all my bloody concentration!"

Ginny snickered. "Well, I'm sure you're not used to do it yourself, and that must be hard, I can see that." Blaise's so far preoccupied mien honed in on her. "OK, OK, I give! Show the way, Mister Mansion."

"Sure thing, Signorina," he drawled, a low, rumbling taunt, as he moved past her. "Right this way. I'm sure our quarters are prepared in the usual guest-wing."

She froze.

"What?" he yawned, stretching his arms distractedly behind his back.

"Our quarters?"

He peered over his shoulder in question.

"When you say 'our'..."

His brow quirked upwards. "Don't worry, Weasley. They're conjoined rooms. Shared bath, though. It's an old house, after all." He stilled and fixed her with a gaze that seemed to see right through her. "Won't be a problem... will it?"

Swallowing any snarky comeback or misgivings she had about that particular arrangement, Ginny shook her head.

Well, at least, she wasn't expected to share a bed with Zabini.

She blamed the low buzz of heat at the back of her neck on the hot climate again.

A/N: English translation:

*Il mio ragazzo = my (dear) boy/sweetheart
*Benvenuto = welcome
*mia ragazza = my (dear) girl
*Sei bella = you are beautiful
*seccatura = nuisance/drag
*impudenza = impudence
*Babbano letteratura = Muggle history
*nella capital = in the capital
*a casa a Portofino = at home in Portofino
*Mi dispiace, Tesoro = I'm sorry, honey
*cari figli = dear children
*ohimè = oh dear
*cari amici = dear friends

A final note: For visualization, I have drawn inspiration for the Zabini Estate from the beautiful Villa del Balbianello by Lake Como in Lombardy, Italy. Just to give you some idea of the splendour of the Zabini wealth as I imagine it (not that you need it yourselves, I'm sure). Furthermore, I mention somewhere in the chapter that the Zabinis own another villa (I mean...of course they do), most frequented by Blaise's 'absent' mother. I saw a picture of this 'smaller' but just as gorgeous, yellow-and-pink villa in Portofino, and I thought it fitting for the family to have a residence on the Italian Riviera as well.