The morning after the troll attack that took Daniel's and Laura's lives, their train arrived in the station at Piazza Garibaldi. The madhouse activity of boarding created the perfect cover for the group as they departed; the few bags they carried not requiring a porter.
"Please follow me. Papa will be waiting just past the market," Caterina instructed. She and Hermione Granger walked together, with Fred on Hermione's other side for support. Harry and his wife followed, hoping to blend into the crowd, with Sirius and George a short distance behind them.
The throng of people largely ignored the refugees from a world unknown to them, only casually noticing that several of the men seemed overly dressed for the climate.
"Bloody hell, Caterina, you could have warned us it would be so awfully hot," George complained as he stripped off as much as decency would allow, Fred and Sirius imitating him, though without the complaints. Harry, both Hermiones, and Caterina had already changed into appropriate clothing.
Acting like tourists, the others fanned their faces in the heat of the morning. Caterina found that she too had been away from home for too long, as beads of perspiration ran down her cheeks.
"You said your father is waiting? Will he have enough room for all of us?" Hermione asked the girl as they hurried across the square.
"I told him Laura tends to travel with many bags, so he may have the furgone," she replied.
"But will his car hold all of us?" Fred asked.
"No, not car. Furgone, for his work, to deliver his breads and cakes."
"She said his wagon or truck," Hermione corrected from behind.
"Yes, his work truck, the same as the one you hired in Vienna," she replied, nodding at Harry.
"Whose idea was it to come here in the middle of the summer?" George complained again.
"Would you rather have gone with Percy?" Sirius asked; he had stripped down to his undershirt.
"Anywhere else might be better," Fred added, sniffing the air. "Where'd he end up anyway?"
"Romania, yesterday afternoon," Harry answered. "I could make the arrangements for you to join him if that is what you want," he added grimly.
"No, Harry, I think he got the worst of it," Fred huffed as they quickly crossed the square.
"Yes, Romania is too far from the sea. My family's villa is comfortable, overlooking the sea," Caterina said, hoping to appease them.
The group had crossed the crowded square when a tall, elderly man, stocky but firmly built, approached; his hair, though thinning and grey, still showed some signs of ebony. His smile grew as he spied the long, blonde hair of his daughter in the crowd. He waved at her and the two that walked beside her to get their attention.
"Catty, come, I have the car waiting." Father and daughter threw their arms around each other for a few long moments before Caterina's father looked around the large group, then turned his attention to the couple that stood next to his daughter, puzzled, "You must be Laura and Daniel. Catty's told us so much of you." He reached for Fred's hand for a proper greeting.
"Sir? My name's Fred and this is…"
"Sarah Gratter." Hermione Granger added quickly.
"But I expected Daniel and Laura. Are they not coming?"
At his simple question a grief-stricken expression appeared on Caterina's face. "No, Papa," she said, "that now is impossible. There was an accident yesterday at the train station."
"Are they well? Were they hurt?" her father asked as he reached for his daughter, who gratefully found comfort in his arms.
"No, Papa. They were badly hurt and there was nothing the doctors could do for them. There was a disturbance and we all had to leave." At that statement the others stepped closer, and Caterina's father realised the news he had heard on the radio had been about her friends.
"Excuse me, my name is…"
"Harry," Hermione interrupted, "he deserves the truth."
He nodded, then held a hand out to the elder man. "My name is Harry Potter and this is my wife, Hermione. We made Caterina's acquaintance two days ago when she assisted me with a slight language barrier. When we discovered we were heading to the same destination, we decided to travel together. When we arrived at the station, her friends were unfortunately in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"Papa, they did much to help. Harry stopped the problem at the station; he is also special."
Her father stared at the new faces and back to his daughter. "Like you?" he asked quietly.
She nodded, "Only they have more than any others I've known."
He now surveyed the entire group, and noticed they all seemed slightly out of place, even in normal clothing. He looked to the man that had addressed him and took his hand.
"Cat is an exceptional judge of people, and you are the first like her she has brought home. Please, the car is just over here." He pointed to the van at the curb, and guided them all to the vehicle, careful to keep his daughter close, as any protective father would.
The group crowded into the van; Harry sat with a Hermione on either side, while the others had to make do on the floor. Everyone remained silent as the van drove off.
"Papa, I had to leave them," Caterina said to her father in her native language, breaking the silence, the hitch in her voice echoing her grief.
"So these people are in trouble? And you came to help them, and this cost your friends their lives. I hope these people are worth the price."
"Papa, please don't be angry. There's something about them. I know you don't approve, but there are things about that world you know nothing about."
Behind the two hosts Hermione nudged Harry, and began to translate, in an unintelligible series of hisses, the discussion between father and daughter.
"We shouldn't have involved her," Harry replied softly. "Sir, we have imposed on you. If you could take us to a nearby hotel, we would be grateful. I'm afraid we've caused your daughter enough trouble."
"No," she said shaking her head. "Please stay. My home is safe for you. Please, Papa, they need help."
In the wizarding world there are powerful spells that can be used to force a person to do another's bidding. Even in the non-magical world there are ways to manipulate another person's will other then spells. The most powerful magic in either worlds pales in comparison with the effect of a daughter's plea on her father. Without hesitation the elder man nodded and smiled at her, "Of course, my love, they are welcome to our home. Please stay, there's always room."
Harry shook his head, "No, that's very kind, but we shouldn't."
"Please stay. Mama can help you with your illness," she said as she turned and looked at both Hermiones.
Harry had started to shake his head when Hermione squeezed his hand and grimaced. "Darling, I don't think this is going to be a lot of fun. And we could use some help. My sister and I have a common condition, and I won't be of much use to her soon."
"She's…?" Harry breathed, in shock.
"Yes," she whispered. "If we could manage some time to get past this stage, we should be fine. Remember when Ginny was in her second month?"
He nodded, thinking, 'But that was twins. This could be worse with a pair of pregnant witches.'
"Thank you, Caterina, I think we will accept your hospitality," Hermione replied.
The drive turned pleasant soon after they left the congestion of the city and began to wind through the countryside. Shortly, the van pulled into a long driveway neatly trimmed with cypress trees; to one side of the main building, a smaller structure stood separated by a pool, on the other lay a detached garage. A low, stone wall surrounded the building, giving an overall feeling of security.
It was a Mediterranean-style villa, with a panoramic view of the cliffs overlooking the coastline of Campania, an ideal site for pastoral relaxation.
As they exited the van, they passed through a furnished terrace facing the sea, and cantilevered over the water stood a gazebo complete with a dining table and barbecue grill, which seemed to anchor the gazebo to the mainland. An opening through the railing connected to a set of stairs which led to the beach below.
Hermione raised an eyebrow as she toured the grounds with the others when she spied a familiar statue in the centre of the terrace, facing the main path from the house. She walked over to the statue and reached to the base, feeling around in a specific spot and smiled.
"Something wrong with the statue, love?" Harry asked.
"No, nothing at all, I was just checking something," she replied as she stood near the statue.
Caterina led the way, her arm laced through her father's. In the distance, inside the small building across from the pool, two figures stood facing each other, visible through the panoramic windows.
"That is the pool cottage," Caterina commented to the others. "There, inside, is Mama, and my brother, Rico." She waved to them, but they remained unaware of the approaching group. The group watched in awkward silence as the mother and son exchanged indistinguishable shouts and the young man left the cottage, slamming the door.
"Please excuse my son. He came home past his curfew. If you would excuse me, Cat, you can show them to their rooms?" He left the group, blocking his son as he tried to escape over the stone wall.
Lingering outside momentarily as Caterina led the others into the main house, Hermione eavesdropped upon the muffled but loud conversation which ensued between parent and child.
"La chiami educazione questa? Abbiamo ospiti!" his father demanded. - "Where are your manners? We have company!"
"Ospiti? Non conosciamo questa gente. Perché dobbiamo stare qui?" He sprinted over the wall and ran from the villa. - "Company? You don't know any of these people. Why do I have to stay here?"
"RICO, torna immediatamente qui!" Caterina's papa shouted, and looked over his shoulder to see one of the women watching the exchange before she slipped into the house. - "RICO, get back here."
Hermione entered the main building with the boy's words still in her thoughts. The living room sported a large fireplace surrounded by furniture, reminiscent of their safe house in the Black Forest. A pair doors opened onto the terrace path leading to the gazebo.
"Please follow. The rooms are down the hall, past the kitchens. There are three double rooms, each with a private toilet and shower. Take any you like."
"What about you and your family? How will we know which are your rooms?" Hermione asked.
"We stay in the pool house when there is company. Use this as your home, please. I will talk to Mama about dinner." She gave Hermione Granger a passing kiss on the cheek, leaving the group speechless.
Harry led the way, taking the first room they passed for him and his wife and offering the second to Hermione Granger; Fred, George, and Sirius took the third. They deposited their belongings quickly, eager to finally find a few moments to relax.
"This is bloody nice. I never expected this," Fred commented to his brother.
"She must have been misleading Daniel and Laura. The other night, all they could talk about was how little she had. I was expecting a Muggle version of the Burrow," George replied as they joined the others.
Hermione left for the kitchen, carrying several vials that needed chilling. While the others explored the grounds, she found the kitchen and refrigerator. Opening the large door, she found it fully stocked with fresh food, all newly purchased. She also noticed what was missing as she left the vials on one shelf.
"Excuse me, miss," she heard from behind and felt a hand on her shoulder. An elderly woman, heavy-set and with a warm, caring look on her face, her long hair pulled under a bandana, stood behind her. "We expected Cat to have her friends from the university. Are you also students?"
She shook her head. "No, we just recently met Caterina. You must be her mother. My name is Hermione Potter," she said, holding out a hand in greeting.
"I am her mother. You say you have just met? What of Daniel and Laura?" she said, taking Hermione's hand and looking over the other's shoulder.
"They met with an unfortunate accident; Caterina offered her hospitality."
"Yes, she is a caring young woman. Those jars, are they medicines?" Caterina's mother asked as she began pulling various pots from a cupboard.
Hermione nodded, "I'm a… physician. Your daughter gave me permission to store these in the refrigerator."
"She mentioned you might need some room, is one of your others ill?"
"My husband's brother was injured in the same incident during which Caterina's friends were hurt. But I think it best she explain the events."
"Her father told me they could not come." She smiled warmly as she stepped to the refrigerator to retrieve a wrapped package of fresh meat.
"Would you care for some help?" Hermione asked.
"No, please, this is my joy. Now, go enjoy the warmth of the day." She opened a cupboard over the counter, and quickly closed it, opening two others before she found the spices she needed.
"I think that would be nice; thank you for your hospitality." Hermione gave the woman a warm handshake and left the kitchen, glancing over her shoulder at the door to see the older woman searching for a plate. Her observations added more pieces to a growing puzzle in her mind.
Hermione left Mrs. Basile and the kitchen for the terrace to find the Weasley twins and Sirius had left to explore the beach, leaving Harry and Hermione Granger waiting for her to return. Caterina sat on the terrace with them, the three engaging in what seemed like pleasant conversation.
"So your family has lived in Naples for the last five generations?'
Caterina nodded. "Yes, but most other families have been here much longer."
"Caterina," Hermione started, "how long have you lived here in this villa?"
The younger woman looked up at her, thinking for a moment. "This villa has been with the family for several generations."
Puzzled, Hermione closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose.
"Are you feeling alright, love?" Harry asked.
"Just a bit of a headache, it should pass with some fresh air. Walk with me on the beach? You know how I feel about beaches, Harry."
He nodded with a mysterious grin and stood, offering a hand. She put her hand in his, stood with him, and they left together for the stairway to the beach, his arm around her shoulders. The other Hermione remained with Caterina to share this time alone.
"They are very much in love," Caterina commented after they were out of earshot.
"Yes, we were," Hermione mumbled.
Caterina had come to terms with loss of her two friends, though continued to grieve for them. Harry took on the responsibility of informing her family about the circumstances of the prior day, giving only enough information to explain her withdrawn mood, including the truth of their history.
That first morning proved stressful for the three witches in the group. Hermione Potter awoke to the same nausea she had been experiencing since she and Harry had left the last reality more then a fortnight ago. Each bout of morning sickness proved reassuring to the Potters, if somewhat unpleasant. Hermione Granger now began experiencing the same illness as well; her recovery from near abuse had previously delayed these symptoms.
Fred Weasley continued to help in the recovery of her mind, now that she had physically healed. The image of her freeing him and Sirius had been forever burned in his mind, and compounded with the recent events he had witnessed; he promised himself that he would stay by her side.
They had begun to relax in their peaceful setting when the fourth Basile reappeared that morning. He was almost ten years younger than Caterina, and his fashion statement revealed the conformity of a contemporary rebellious youth, his jeans so large they barely stayed on his thin frame. In one pocket the latest portable music player constantly screamed the newest Anime music into his ears.
He left the pool cottage without acknowledging his family, 'a rude gesture worthy of Dudley,' Hermione thought. Yesterday's first impression utterly reinforced.
He walked past the women sitting together near the pool, his coal black eyes devoid of feeling. He ran a hand through his unkempt and equally black hair, which provided a sharp contrast to his pale, white skin. Hermione's attempts to engage him in friendly conversation were met with failure as he rudely ignored their entire group, though she did notice, through her keen sense of smell, evidence of his less than legal recreational activities.
Moments after he emerged from the cottage and scaled the same wall he had yesterday, his sister emerged from the same door, joining the two Hermiones.
"He's off to trouble, isn't he?" Hermione Granger offered.
"Uh-huh, he's had troubles with unsavoury people recently. Papa is beside himself trying to keep Rico from hurt."
"Is there anything we can do?"
Caterina shook her head, and sighed heavily, "No, thank you. Papa thinks he will not learn his path is wrong until he falls. Papa prays every day that he can be there to help him."
"He is quite young. There's a sizable age difference between you two. You were never close were you?"
Caterina looked to the sea, a tear crested in her eye. "I am the oldest; he is the baby. We had a sister between us that disappeared five years ago. Some say she was taken and sold to the underworld. I believe… I know she is gone. Rico was affected strongly; he never fully accepted it."
Hermione Potter changed seats to be next to her new friend, "I know how you feel. Any loss hurts, and that never goes away."
"He'll be fine; every boy has this rebellious phase. He 'l l grow out of if when he realises there's more to life," Hermione Granger added.
The Weasley twins entered the terrace, joining the women. A sound sleep had done them both wonders; they resembled more the free spirits of their youth. One of them sat next to the thinner woman, while his twin took a chair opposite their hostess.
"Good morning, Fred." Hermione Granger beamed. Her hand slipped into his from her lap, and gave it an affectionate squeeze.
"Ay, and a good morrow to you Miss Basile. I have to confess, this is a wonderful place you have. It's amazing anyone really lives in these villas," George addressed Caterina.
She only braved a smile in reply.
The rest, including Mr. and Mrs. Basile, now joined the growing group. Caterina's mother and father sat together, resembling the Potters in their radiating affections for each other.
"Mrs. Basile, that herb tea is wonderful; I hardly felt ill this morning. Thank you."
"You are certainly welcome. It is a blend handed down from mother to daughter. I'm sure your mother had secrets she shared with you."
Hermione turned her eyes away.
Harry walked to the Basile matriarch and bent to whisper in her ear. Each passing word caused a growing distress in her face. "I'm sorry. Please, I had no idea."
"That was a long time ago. It still hurts to know how much of life they missed."
"Enough of this depressing conversation. You are here for a holiday and you shall not feel distress. The cooling water of the sea is calling. There should be bathing suits in the rooms if any of you have failed to bring yours."
"Smashing idea," George piped in. "A day spent by the seaside sounds enjoyable. Harry, you and Hermione haven't been to the ocean since you spent that summer abroad. How about it?"
"Agreed, a day of relaxation is just what we all need. We 'l l all meet back in ten minutes?" Harry added as he reached for Hermione's hand to escort her to their room to change.
The serenity of the villa eased them through the days that followed. Each passing moment Hermione Granger spent with Hermione Potter helped her to recover her lost identity. Her healing process did not simply show her what or who she should be but also helped her realise who she was. The years of neglect and abuse began to fade quickly from her memory as she tried to regain a path lost so long ago.
Her only regret remained losing the man with which she had fallen in love and still cared deeply for, even after the mistreatment and pain he had inflicted upon her. Hermione Potter's description of the memories she witnessed proved instrumental to the restoration of a sharp mind that had been dulled over the years. Gradually, the two Hermiones grew as close as sisters, though they had yet to breach certain topics, namely the source of the voices that continued to plague Hermione Granger's thoughts and also the memories of her cousin's death. Neither, though, knew the reason for the gap in her memory after Eileen and Jake had been crudely buried by her hand.
The sea breeze felt refreshing in the sweltering heat, the gazebo in which the two women were sitting would have been ideal for a relaxing moment, but they were deep in shared therapy.
"Focus. Think only on the facts of that morning of the battle. I was there in your thoughts and witnessed the events he stored in his Pensieve."
"No, you can't possibly understand. I did murder them," the troubled Hermione mumbled.
"No, you can't pull back. You must understand exactly what happened if you are to recover to your own mind." The two women's hands remained together in spite of one constantly trying to pull away. Hermione had not allowed her other self to pull away, she knew physical contact meant as much as any potion or spell. "Hermione, you forget he forced me to watch your memories; I saw the events as they happened, not as he told you they happened. He left you for dead. Albus pulled him away from you at the moment you needed each other. It was simply Ron and Ginny's misfortune to care deeply for you. That's what cost them their lives."
"They should have left me too," she mumbled. "My life wasn't worth both of them."
"Stop feeling sorry for yourself. It was Pettigrew that hurt you both that day, just as he hurt me." She opened her blouse and revealed the scar from that wound. "We shared a common history up to that point."
"Then why did Harry leave me?" she began to sob. This was the heart of her issues, and unfortunately a subject upon which her Healer could only speculate.
"I wish I could answer that. My Harry and I had a deep connection as friends, years before we became intimate." She rubbed her palm, feeling the outline of the scar that joined them.
"When?"
"When what? I'm not sure what you mean."
"When did you first… become intimate? He never wanted me; I wasn't pretty enough."
"Rubbish. I'm certain he cared for you at some point. That Valentine's day before you fought Voldemort, didn't he promise to marry you?"
"I don't completely recall those days. I tried to write them out, but he cursed my cell; nothing written would last once I fell asleep. I spent years writing it all down," she held her arms out for inspection. "When I ran out of ink, I resorted to extreme measures."
"I was in that cell; I saw the ' ink well'. And you forget, I had many of those same memories."
"Not the same memories. They can't be identical since there seem to be differences between us." Hermione Granger shook her head, almost in a nervous twitch.
"I wanted him since that first night I slept with him in the Astronomy Tower, but we made love for the first time the night Mum and Dad were murdered. I planned it so well that night, but our first time was the key to Malfoy's curse."
"The one that caused you to be unable to have a child?"
"Yes."
"We never did that night; he wouldn't. After Eileen and Jake took me away… after that, he stopped being tender and kind to me."
"Do you think that's why he left you? That possibly he wasn't as committed?"
She nodded slightly, "I've had ten years to replay those days. I wish I knew what he was thinking, the way you both seem to understand each other."
"Let me see your hand," Hermione Potter ordered, pulling her counterpart's fist open. The unblemished skin revealed another clue. Puzzled, Hermione Granger grabbed the same hand on her other self and found her lightning bolt scar.
"In our sixth year when he was learning the extent of his power, Voldemort caused a vision in him that forced his scar to burn. I put my hand across his forehead and we had this connection ever since."
"I remember that. He collapsed and had a fever," she looked away deep in though and suddenly sucked in a mouthful of air sharply, "I never touched his forehead; I had my handkerchief between us."
"Possibly, that's the crucial point where we deviated. I could sense his feelings after that. He stayed with me for the next three days when I was unconscious, and I think that was when he subconsciously realised we were meant to be together."
"No, he spent that night in the hospital wing; I stayed with Ron until he was released. When he arrived in the common room in Gryffindor tower, that's when he started to seem cold and distant. You said you were unconscious for three days?"
"Yes, they said I barely moved a muscle, as if I…" she stopped mid-thought, "… the same way I was when Jason and Janet died."
"Who?" Hermione asked with a puzzled look.
"My children. They died in an accident before they were born, that was five years ago. Their funeral was the trigger that sent me into the past; Myrddin said I had to hold the teddy bear the day two family members were buried."
"Who's Myrddin? Mum and Dad were buried nearly a year before Jake and Eileen… died. Harry found me and took me away. That's the last time I remember seeing the outside world."
"He's the one responsible for sending us back in time. I watched your episode when Harry forced you to bury Jake and Eileen; you must have gone back then. In the last world the Hermione there went back when Mum and Dad were killed, but when she returned, she was dead. I went back when we lost the babies. There was a five-year difference for me. It may be possible the timing had much to do with it," she sat back and crossed her arms.
"I never went anywhere. Harry found me and brought me back."
"So you don't remember saving Hermia? Or entering the Chamber of Secrets five hundred years ago?"
"No, none of that happened," she answered with a puzzled look.
A smile crept onto her counterpart's face, "I think I know why Ginny died. You needed to have some knowledge to gain access into the Chamber of Secrets. And she had that knowledge buried deep in her subconscious. You needed to change the manuscript to save Harry." She looked at her double, and hissed one last question, in Parseltongue. "Did you go back to the Chamber of Secrets and alter the manuscript?"
"No, it was like that when I bought it for him. I can't get into the Chamber, only he can," she replied in Parseltongue without thinking.
Hermione leaned back in her chair and smiled; this was a major breakthrough for her counterpart in this reality. But before she could explain further to the other woman, two figures caught her eye.
"Dove hai lasciato le buone maniere? Abbiamo ospiti," she heard Caterina's father demand. The man held his son's arm in a tight grip. - "Where are your manners? We have company."
"Ospiti? Quelli? Avevi detto che Caterina avrebbe portato con sé due amici ma IO non ho potuto portare nessuno. E guarda un po'... ora lei ne ha portati addirittura sei!" Rico screamed back in anger. - "Guests? Those? You said Caterina would have brought with her two friends, but I couldn't bring with me anyone. And look at that... now she's brought six of them!"
"Ha le sue buone ragioni. Ora, per piacere, comportati da persona educata. Queste persone sono importanti per lei; e sono anche molto potenti." - "She had good reason, now you best mind your manors. These are important to her; they are powerful people."
"Intendi gente strana come lei." Rico struggled to break free, but his father's grip must have been stronger. Both Hermiones watched, listening intently. - "You mean freaks like her."
"E' tua sorella, non una 'tipa strana'." - "She is your sister, not a freak."
"E allora perché l'hai mandata via?" The boy's anger seemed to amplify when his sister's abilities were added to the argument. - "Then why did you send her away?"
"Cribbio, lo sai che doveva frequentare quella scuola! Non poteva imparare a controllare il suo potere a Napoli!" - "Damn, you know she had to attend that school! She couldn't learn how to deal with her powers in Naples!"
"E questo l'ha autorizzata a fingersi qualcuno che non è, proprio come abbiamo dovuto fare noi adesso? I commedianti per questi suoi 'ospiti'. Far finta di essere ricchi, far finta di essere addirittura una 'famigliola felice'." - "So she could pretend to be something she isn't, just like we have to pretend for her 'guests'. Just like we have to pretend to be 'happy' here."
"Conosci già la risposta." - "You know the answer to that."
"Perché? Sembriamo tutti spaventapasseri in abito da sera, ed è tutta colpa sua. Anche questa villa è colpa sua. Voglio andare a casa! Farà schifo, ma è casa nostra," Rico screamed. He finally ripped his arm free and pushed his father aside. He only managed to force him back a step. - "Why? We all look like scarecrows wearing dinner suits and it's all her fault. Even this villa is her fault. I want to go home. It might be horrible, but it's our home."
From the kitchen Rico's mother watched the argument; it was the same fight they had had time and time again, only this time, father and son started to become physical with each other.
"Farai come abbiamo deciso." To emphasize his point, the elder man grabbed his son roughly by the shoulders. "E devi pure smetterla di vederti con quei delinquenti da quattro soldi dei tuoi amici. Odorano di guai." - "You will do as you're told." - "And you are to stop associating with those 'hoodlum' friends. They are trouble."
"Faccio quello che mi pare," Rico screamed at his father, and moved to shove him back, but felt something akin to an electric shock shoot from his hand. This time, the elder man fell back, as if struck by a hammer, losing his balance as he fell into the statue at the centre of the terrace, and lay on the ground motionless. - "I 'l l do as I please."
"Rico... che hai fatto? Rico... piccirillo di mamma sua... che hai combinato? Dio..." his mother screamed as she ran out of the villa to her husband. - "Rico... what have you done? Rico... little one, what have you done? God..."
"Hermione, find Harry, he's on the beach," Hermione Potter ordered her counterpart. She sprang to her feet and ran to Caterina's parents.
"Let me have a look at him," she said to Mrs. Basile, and bent down to carefully look for any injuries, using her Muggle training to check for certain signs. Thankfully, Hermione found his pulse and breathing was normal; a small laceration in his scalp was not enough for him to be unconscious.
She peered into his eyes, and sensed the source of the injury.
Harry arrived with the others close behind.
Hermione held the man's head in her lap, "He's been stunned. He had an argument with Rico and fell over."
Harry turned to Caterina, "Is he also a wizard? Has he been tested for magic?"
She shook her head, "No, I am the only one in this family. He has never shown any skills."
"Harry, remember Neville also didn't show signs until he was a bit older. Hermione reminded. She turned to Mrs. Basile to reassure her, "He 'l l be fine once the Stunning Spell wears off, we can't risk using…"
"Ennervate!" Caterina yelled, pointing a wand at her father. The man's eyes blinked before he sat up. His sudden re-animation startled his wife; both had been shielded from having to witness magic by their daughter. This was one of the few times either had been the subject of a spell.
"Mama? Was it Rico?" he asked, slightly dazed.
The elder woman nodded and turned to her daughter, "Cat, he has your powers but he has refused to acknowledge them."
"This was an unfocused and wandless spell; he could have killed your husband. He needs to be properly tutored," Hermione informed Mrs. Basile.
"Mama, did he receive his letter? Oh never mind, it's still too early for that," said Caterina shaking her head.
"Too early? The boy is flipping fourteen!" Hermione Granger said incredulously.
"At home we get the letter at eleven years old; here, they start training later," Harry offered.
Hermione then turned to face Caterina. "We need to have a chat. And you must be honest with us."
"Yes," Caterina replied.
"Harry, this is not their home. I stayed here once before with Mum and Dad as a girl."
"Summer of our second year? I thought it was familiar," Hermione Granger added.
Caterina's head bowed down, she had been caught. "Yes, this is my uncle's property; he lets it for holidaying tourists. I begged him to stay here with Daniel and Laura, so they would not see where we live."
"Caterina told us they were rich and would not understand we are not," her father added. "Our home is not as grand."
"That's why Rico acted so poorly? And that's why your mum couldn't find her spices that first day. Any woman would know every detail of her own kitchen; she seemed lost."
The elder woman nodded, "Sì, I did forget where things were in that kitchen."
Mr. Basile coughed, and looked pale.
"Papa, you need some water," Caterina said, giving her an excuse to leave.
Harry stood and looked around, scanning the horizon. He barely heard an alarm in the distance, but could see a column of thick, black smoke rising from the centre of the city. Caterina had been gone for only a few moments when they heard her scream, sending Harry and Sirius running into the kitchen. The girl stood staring at the radio, holding a map.
"It's gone," she muttered.
"What happened?" Sirius asked first.
"They burned our home," she replied. "On the news, the street is in flames."
Harry looked at Sirius and both men quickly returned to the terrace to call the others. "We're in the open; this isn't safe," Harry said. "Everyone inside, and then we can figure out what happened."
Hermione had heard his tone of voice before, when he was hunting the rest of Voldemort's followers; she knew he was following an old mentor's motto, "Constant vigilance." She felt her palm grow cold and knew he was scared, though he never showed it. Publicly, he showed only his mask of authority.
Fred and George helped Signore Basile into the center of the house, far away from any window. He and his wife looked confused at their guests'sudden precautions. "What happened?" they both asked.
Inside, Harry paced, deep in thought, rubbing his chin. Caterina stood in the doorway, trembling. Harry looked at her, his official mask of authority instantly falling into place. "Who else knows you are here?" he demanded.
"No one except Uncle; Papa closed his shop for the week since it is so far away."
"So, no one knows we're here except Rico and your uncle, and your uncle believes you're here with Daniel and Laura. Caterina, that deception may have saved your family's lives."
Harry turned to Cat's father, "You have known Rico has wizard powers and you never told him?"
"Yes, we don't think he knows or understands."
"He needs to know. Untrained and unfocused, he could be a danger to himself and others."
"Papa, the news, Via Bixio was burned. Our home is gone."
Only Caterina's father seemed to understand, "Vendetta," he said. "This is a vendetta. He will hunt you all, and now us, until we are all dead."
"That will not happen," Harry said as confidently as he could. "Do you have any idea where Rico may have gone or where his friends are?"
"Yes, I followed him once; he thinks he is so clever but I was the one who allowed him to grow, to see his own path. We tried to show him his errors, but he needs to learn on his own. Come, I will take you there," Signore Basile said.
"Not all of us. Sirius and Fred will go with us; the rest of you stay here in case something happens. Better still, Mione, go take some money and hire a day boat, and make sure no one sees you.
She nodded, knowing their safe haven could now be easily jeopardised. She stood and left the group for the bedroom while Harry continued to play out the scenario aloud.
"Here's what I think happened: he had received word we killed his troll sentry, and sent others to investigate. I'm sure he discovered Daniel and Laura's bodies, and detected this Hermione's special touch on them. He's not stupid; he would have traced us through Caterina to your real home and is either waiting there or has been there. This may be the safest place until he connects that link with your uncle."
Hermione ran back into the room. A frantic look on her normally calm face alerted the Auror. "Harry, Rico took your bag!"