Hello people of Earth and welcome to another chapter of The Monster Within… finally. AvalonTheLadyKiller and I have arrived with glorious purpose, hopefully you like it as much as we do. We cringe underneath pointedly stares as we apologize for not updating this story in a long while, and we thank each and every one of you for your patience.

Now remember when I told you guys last chapter that it was "probably the most lengthy chapter that we have ever put out" since it was 6,046 words? Yeah… we more than doubled it this time, to make up for lost time. (And probably because we just loved it so my that we simply couldn't stop.) Either way, we hope you like it, and hope you get comfortable before reading. It's more than 13,000 words so we thought that we would warn you lovely people ahead of time. :)

AvalonTheLadyKiller has become very special to me and I love being able to work with her. She inspires me to become a better writer as well as giving me excitement and support as we write docs with each other. I especially like to bounce ideas off of her and her way to break everything down to the finest detail leaves me in awe.

If you have not checked out her story 'Iridescent' you are sadly missing out and I strongly suggest that you look up her username as soon as possible. I promise you that with just one quick peek inside the story, you will instantly be hooked. The good kind, not the painful fish kind – scout's honor. Lol. I respect her so very much – for her helping me write this story, refining and smoothing out all of the rough edges… whilst helping me take this story to heights that I hadn't even considered when I decided to post the first chapter to see what everyone thought.

The Monster Within is as much her story as it is mine, I firmly believe, and I know for a fact that I couldn't possibly made this story as good as it is – without her. Holds up old-fashioned boom box over my head in victory as "We are the Champions" by Queen blares through the speakers! AvalonTheLadyKiller, we did it!

This chapter is titled 'Wayfaring Strangers' and as always we will allow the chapter to speak for itself. Thank you for all the support, favorites, follows and reviews that you give us… showing us time and time again precisely why we love to do this.

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Previously on Chapter 10:

"Buona Sera." She guardedly greeted the pair a good evening before briefly fanning her legilimency skills over the two and sensing their tension to what would have been an undetected assault. She could've taken the more invasive approach but as she was trying to be unobtrusive, she was unable to get much more from them. "Posso aiutarle?" She finally asked if she could help them, offering hesitantly but pleasant nevertheless.

One turned to the other, awaiting her response from the concealment of her cloak. The taller one stepped forth; taking off her darkened hood in the process to reveal the color of crimson curls that were wild and untamed before a pleased smile curved upon her lips in response. "..Sì, Signora Natari. We were hoping you could."

….

Nearly a century had passed, since Alessia had first planted her boots here in the heart of Terracina. The seasons had drifted from one into the next, and before she knew it, the years had crept upon her. Alessia was, more than anything, a proud woman; but even she could admit that those years had done quite a number on her. Some for the better, and others for the worst. A fact that her aging bones reminded her daily.

As the pure-blooded daughter of one of the most influential Italian bloodlines, Alessia had once bore such rough hewn edges that she'd feared she would never truly experience the wonders of the world. For the life of a heiress was one of rigid structure and utter confinement. She envied those of a lesser reach, more than anything; and from that jealousy, she grew cold. For true anonymity was the one thing she sought, but could not have.

Trinkets and dresses were nothing to her, when her adventurous heart yearned for escape. Yearned to develop her magic, beyond society's idea of what a 'mere' witch should be. Ideals that she'd eventually see rise in her lifetime, if not for another eighty years. But Alessia was a witch before her time, and she was no 'mere' anything. Fate, seemed to agree, for her path was to be the one untravelled. Something quite different was in store for her, and that something that would forever set her apart from her predecessors.

Before she was the age of one and seven, she had been 'thrown to the wolves,' as they say. Only, her new life would be far from that of the caged bird. For though Alessia was but a pebble to be tossed into whichever stream her parents saw fit, the currents had never quite allowed her body to sink. Fate had watched over her when no one else would.

From the beginning, she had bore no such illusions about what sort of match her parents sought. No matter how hard she fought to deny them their 'rights'; she could not escape the fact that they, for lack of a better word, 'owned' her. After all, witches in that day and age had fewer rights than that of a dung beetle. Oh, how it had chafed her! To be reminded, day after day, that her life was far from her own...

But as hard as Alessia had struggled against any such imprisonment, her efforts were proven futile. For at the time, one didn't simply deny a marriage proposal, once it had been decided. It was as if she was nothing more than a heirloom, as priceless and unique in all that she was, which whom her family had grown tired of looking at and, in return, hereby offered up to the person that showed an interest in her. Marriage contracts had, and perhaps always would be little more than political negotiations; based on blood, money, influence, and power. It was a well-known fact that a marital contract could bind one tighter than any noose ever could. Tensions were high, for turning down such a profitable contract could very well ignite a blood feud between the two lines. Just as easily as a poorly placed proposal, could insult the recipient's line should the match be found wanting.

At first, she had been more than overwhelmed. As the newly married witch of one of the oldest lines in Italy, she found herself quite unsure of her new place in the world. So quickly had she been spit out on the shores of this serene little piece of Italian countryside. Far flung from the young girl who'd set fire to the furnishings, upon receiving the news of her engagement. However it was the changes she felt twisting beneath her skin, urging her much alike a caterpillar about to being the stages of metamorphosis… changes that weren't of the immediate sort. No, her growth had only just begun.

And much alike that of the beautiful butterfly that fought it's way out of the cocoon that had previously engulfed it; Alessia couldn't wait for the moment when she could spread her wings and truly be able to fly.

By Alessia's ripe old age, the world had left its mark upon her soul, just as much as it had her body. At times, it would leave her broken and bleeding, but her tough skin always healed. Her magic was of a powerfully resilient sort, which she had only her husband's late mother to thank for that. For her influence had single-handedly been what pulled her back from the ledge so early on.

Nadia Natari's lessons into understanding the world around her, continued to teach her many things she had never been forced to consider before. She learned more about herself in those first few years than she'd ever known she'd been missing. Her difficulties in connecting with people stemmed from her ill-shapen childhood, of that she'd had no doubt. But it was her inability to understand certain tender emotions that had frightened Nadia the most.

Lady Natari fought the inequality between genders with a full heart of fire and a sharp tongue to match. Alessia could still tenderly remember the day she'd been asked to call her 'Mamma' instead of by her title. It was one of the first times Alessia had truly let herself cry in front of another. It was this remarkable witch, who'd tutored Alessia privately in the years following her marriage, that left a true mark upon her heart as the older woman filled the role of the mother figure that she had possibly ached to have since she was only a small child. It was because of this influence that by the age of thirty, Alessia was well on her way into becoming Italy's strongest witches, even if she didn't advertise her intelligence to the world.

At the age of nearly 111 years old, Alessia liked to think she had long since left her mark on the world. Which in her mind, was far greater than any riches or power she might have beheld had she taken a different path. She stood tall, with the weight of her triumphs. And while it was not her wish to die tomorrow, she knew she would die with great pride. For what more could such a stubborn old witch ask for?

In a way, her life had began the day she'd arrived in Terracina, the place which was to be her new home. The Italian summer had only just begun, but already it had felt like the air itself had been trying to suffocate her with its stifling humidity. The Zabini heiress had been joined hand in hand with her new husband; a tall handsome wizard, to whom she had been engaged to since some years before. Their arrival had been accompanied by a deafening crack, which disappeared almost immediately in the hustle and bustle of the well-worn cobblestoned street.

Carts bearing wares that were headed to market passed by loudly, along with the steady clanging of horses' shoes. Neither of the two seemed to glance around with any sort of apprehension, for their Notice-Me-Not charms were more than effective at deterring any non-magicfolk from glancing in their direction, had they heard the sound. Though not many magic folk traveled this particular route, they might have warranted at the very least a half-interested glance or a brief nod of greeting, at seeing the newly bonded couple. After a quick perusal, Ariste determined the passerbys to be only Muggles, headed to and from the local market square.

Alessia's long waves had spiralled into the air around them at the disturbance between destinations, as she took in the streetlife. Her milk chocolate locks appeared quite fair next to his pitch blackened curls, but it was he who appeared the more fetching of the two; at least in her opinion. But still, his stoic demeanor could've been quite eerie to one who had not known exactly what to look for. In fact, reading him proved far more difficult than she had ever anticipated, even for one so practiced in the Mind Arts. It would be months yet, before Alessia truly felt at ease giving him her complete trust. Something which she clutched tightly to, alongside her heart.

Alessia's family was after all, one of the most feared in all of Italy; choked full of political leaders and those involved in illegal trade. Understandably, her father had made certain she excelled in the subject most beneficial to him. But where she surpassed her betrothed in Legilimency, the far more offensive skill set; he held a natural born affinity for shielding his mind. Leaving the pair, on more than one occasion, at quite an impasse.

They couldn't have encountered each other more than a brief handful of times, with how often her mother allowed her out of the house, but each time left her with fewer answers to what kind of man he was. Getting a clear read on her soon-to-be husband, was about as fruitless as her father's attempts to tone down her mother's spending. So she had pushed to get reactions out of him during the few times they caught each other's gaze at school or an event, but Ariste was like the calm in the eye of the storm; able to look out over the storm's damage, unaffected. If anything, he seemed amused by her sharp tongue. It would be years later, before Ariste revealed that it was her fiery temper and not her looks that first caught his eye.

The contract binding them into marriage had been sealed and signed two years before their wedding, much later than most, but her mother wasn't one to settle for less than she knew she could get for Alessia. Especially for having went through all the trouble to birth 'the ungrateful whelp that she was'. For Ariste, the first of July in his seventeenth year was a year for celebration. But for Alessia however, she'd been developing her own ideas that went far beyond a simple life of marriage and children. She'd had an adventurous heart from the very start.

The ceremony itself, had been scheduled for the first Sunday after Ariste had graduated from the formidable halls of Durmstrang. But though they attended the same school, it by no means meant they shared any true interactions previous to the matrimony. The older families believed that young men and women didn't require any further integration, especially with so many marriage contracts on the table; culminating in separate wings dedicated to each gender.

At nearly a year younger, Alessia had been forced to leave the academy in what would have began her seventh year. But while pure-blooded doctrine dictated the above all importance of continuing the family lines, over any other achievements; she had forced her own stipulation into the contract as soon as she realised the gravity of the situation. She'd refused to be drowned in the same pure-blooded idiocy that would have kept her caged in the home, like the generations before her.

The world was changing. Evolving into something beautifully terrifying. But it was society's resistant nature that keep the women of her age innocent of danger, and blind of any worldly wonders. But she would be damned into living a half-life before any man, wizard or muggle alike, thought to imprison her. Because for Alessia, being cursed to live a life of starvation, would by no means break her; her mind was strong. To be imprisoned within a gilded cage had a way of twisting the human mind; it had the capabilities dement the soul, from the inside out. A death far worse than never being able to feel warmth once more.

Alessia made her thoughts on the matter known, as the final contract was prepared to be sent to Ministry Officials. She came into her father's study and immediately took her father's arm in hers; speaking a Vow so strong, the walls trembled. For as long as she was denied the proper opportunity to finish her schooling and educational desires, she would refuse the bond's attempts to tie their ancestral lines. Threatening to let the greatest of untruths fall from her lips during the exchanging of the Vows; the magic that bound the merging ancestral lines. Therefore sealing her fate to end in the most violent of deaths; being stripped of one's magic. A fate long since feared, since marriage contracts were enacted back during the Dark Ages. For Alessia Zabini had no intention of being led from one cage to another.

Her threats may have been unheard of in such a day and age, but when the Heir of the great Zabini fortune spoke, one listened. For her to have been able to single-handedly initiate the Vow, without a second to bond her, meant her threat was magically plausible. And try as her mother had, to rebuke her daughter's reckless claim, the extent of Alessia's power was truly irrefutable. If allowed to pass, the legendary Zabini line, with no other heirs apparent, would die out like the weakest of species. For no other blood relatives lived to carry the weight of this once powerful bloodline.

Her rebellion was quite a surprising turn of events to the Natari family, however. She might as well have taken every ounce of air out of the room, for the deathly silence that followed. Witches of her caliber were raised to carry themselves in accordance to the oldest of pure-blooded teachings. Her own parents, however remained completely nonplussed at their daughter's grim crusade. They had after all, been struggling futilely to restrain her fervor, since before she had came into her magic. If anything her mother looked ready to strike her dead with a well-aimed killing curse, for daring to embarrass them in such a manner.

It was then that she saw her father's eyes, flash with cool calculation. It was however, the sly smirk that gave him away. For no matter how reserved he kept his features, his sense of grandeur always shined through. So, spinning his way through negotiations, he made the best of an impossible situation. His Zabini heritage refusing to be caught off guard, lest weakness be sensed in the pure-blooded hierarchy. And on that day, before two of the most influential wizarding families of Italy, she had finally made her father proud. But more importantly, her powerful outburst had sealed her fate with her betrothed's parents; for they would accept no other match for their son.

A ground-breaking turn of events, that not even her hag of a mother could've predicted. For Alessia had, in her eyes, dishonored their family with such uncouth threats of suicide. No husband could possibly have wanted such a marred trinket, no matter how beautiful. As Lady of House Zabini, she took it upon herself to care for many things. 'Feats of magical fortitude were for the of lesser bloodlines,' she'd always said. Witches, like herself, were born for subtle political manipulations and craftily annihilating one's opponents in the field of discrete warfare. Alessia's magic lashing out was a faux pas that would've destroyed their family's standing in the world, had the Natari Family not been so captivated by her potential. Which had been Alessia's only saving grace, for her mother's demented mind had already strayed to thoughts of disownment and filicide.

Later, after having sat through many private discussions with her father and Lord Natari, she had been granted a private tutor of her father's choosing. An alteration which would be furthermore cemented by its addition to the marriage contract within the hour. Her appointed tutor would teach only the subjects worth teaching, in her father's opinion; meaning those which could benefit his dealings the most. Something which she vowed to limit herself to minimal interaction, so as not to be kept on a tight leash. She would not simply take one NEWT, as the students were trained for upon graduation. She would take five. For if there was anything to be said about Lord Zabini, he always came out on top. His cunning was one of the many qualities he had bequeathed her. He knew that she would see such a trial as a chance to prove herself. For if Lord Zabini had sired a son, no less than five NEWTs would've been acceptable. On that fateful day, she was made equal to a wizard in her father's eyes.

Never had she been more proud to have stood her ground. For the very essence of being a Zabini was challenging oneself as much as those around you; her great grandmother's portrait had told her that. So, while even though the words spoken had been naught but memories captured in oil, bewitched to live on through time; her words had not fallen on deaf ears. Unfortunately, Alessia had not yet realized the full weight such wisdom held at that time. Her understanding of the world had been vastly skewed by the blinders her family had placed over her eyes. Though she held no doubt that she soon will.

With Ariste at her side, they quickly swept inside the estate's gated entrance. The dry-stone palisade separated the quiet home from the busy street. The pathway curved elegantly through the cultivated gardens weaved around a gloriously carved fountain of two dragons dancing in the water. Water spouted from their mouths into the air, and at her open admiration they both turned to face her; flashing their teeth in a fearsome grin. The larger one's tail rolled amidst the water below, as though it watched her with intelligence and not by means of spellwork.

It was then that Alessia had remembered reading that the Natari line had migrated west, from their family's ancestral home in the Romanian mountains. She found it quite intriguing, to imagine her husband's family history so deeply entrenched in the same mountains, that once housed hundreds of the magnificent beasts. More so upon seeing the subtle reminder of their family's strength in surviving the dragon's reign of terror for not simply a few years, but centuries.

The estate itself, was exactly how she'd imagined it; the embodiment of old world design. Beams of sunlight rained down its stone walls magnificently. Each reflecting off the mosaic of earthen colors, to the gardens below. Every stone was rich in hue like the bottom of a well worn riverbed. It bore a sort of simplistic elegance, and Alessia herself, could not deny how utterly charmed she was by its appearance. Even the broad-standing turrets appeared less intimidating in the afternoon sunlight. Flowering vines crept skyward along their many crevices, while their shadows chased the heat away from the plants down below.

Altogether, she found her new home rather quaint. It was an odd sort of home for such a wealthy pure-blood family. Its humble grandeur set it apart from any other she'd ever set her eyes upon. Alessia herself, couldn't deny the curiosity she felt bubbling up inside. For her own life had been cloaked in unnecessary extravagance, from the moment of her birth. Though she could not say for sure it had filled her with any sense of what a home should feel like. Unendingly empty rooms, floors, and wings filled no space in a child's heart after all. And though there stood hundreds of wait staff lining the walls, days were known to pass without any interaction with her family. Some days she felt as if she might as well just fade into the walls.

Thus, her inquisitive mind was ever more intrigued by her new surroundings. All of her previous misconceptions fell by the wayside, leaving her more than a little nervous at the strangeness of it all. For while the Natari family was by no means poor, thus proven by the extensive notations made surrounding her and Ariste's inheritances, she was unable to understand why they would wish to live in such an unpretentious manner. From her birth, she had bore witness to the way the wealthy pure-bloods paraded their earnings; such was the way of their lifestyle. It was how one showed their family's power and reach. Her father was quite adept at the game, and her mother stood dutifully by his side. This was something Alessia had never questioned. It was the way of the purosangue, those of the purest magical bloodlines.

So, when Ariste opened the door, politely stepping aside for her to enter first, she was even more robbed of speech. Where she expected the smell of cool and crisp pressed linens pervading the air, it was instead the aroma of freshly cut fields and bread that swiftly invaded her senses. The arched windows were open and sunlight poured through the doorways, giving the home a spacious open feel; like one was outside in the gardens. Though even with the subtle wind drifting through the entryway, she deeply suspected a subtle cooling charm to be at work. Adjusted to circulate air from room to room, so as to fight back the Italian summer's heat without remaining stagnantly cool in one place.

It was with a great soul-deep sigh, that the Natari family had welcomed her into their home and into their lives. Ariste's mother was the first to come forth, unbidden by society's rules regarding proper greeting etiquette. She'd wiped her hands delicately with a dish towel before enclosing her new daughter into her arms. It wasn't until she leaned back that Alessia noticed the woman still had some flour on her cheek. A smear that could only mean she had been in the kitchens herself, laboring over what she could only assume were loaves of freshly baked artisan bread, given the smells coming from the hall.

The shocking nature that the matriarch of one of the wealthiest families in the region, was making them dinner nearly had her debating whether she needed to consult a healer immediately. But the smells bursting forth from the room her mother-in-law had departed from, had her stomach rumbling in interest. Roasted meats and vegetables rich in flavor awaited them that evening, after Ariste's father joined their party.

Much like his son, he was a man of few words, but his permanent grimace set her on edge. Next to his father, Ariste seemed positively personable; as was to be expected after she discovered his father had been one of the country's leading aurors for going on half a century. Not something the other families had spoken much of, in her presence. The man had been responsible for capturing some of the most ruthless of criminals. The Darkest of sorts; wizards that had no quarrel with committing mass murder, or even maintaining The Statute of Secrecy. She found herself enthralled when Nadia was able to pull a few of his recent tales from him over dinner. It was something that eased the lingering tension from the room, as they all applauded him for his bravery and wit.

Over the next few weeks, it become more and more apparent that Ariste was entirely his mother's son. She greatly admired the fact that he didn't feel the need, like so many others, to fill the silence with worthless prattle. But when Ariste did voice his thoughts, she could see his mother's influence completely. Nary a sentence escaped his lips that wasn't carefully constructed. Pieced together in a manner designed to ensure it wouldn't be misconstrued. If he could have withstood the tedium, he would have made a wise political leader.

Thinking back now, Alessia could only laugh at the thought of what her late husband would say to being surrounded by such dreary imbecilli on a permanent basis. No, he much preferred his job at The Department of Mysteries.

Through the years, Nadia Natari was the closest thing Alessia ever had as a mother. Her own had been so utterly obsessed with maintaining decorum, that she'd often neglected Alessia for days at a time. Only under two occasions would she be allowed out of the house on a regular basis. The first was when they made their weekly visits to the shops, to show off whatever new robes or jewelry her mother had recently acquired; and the second was to attend whichever event the elite families had issued to her a formal invitation. For Lady Zabini was adamant that declining such would reflect poorly on herself, and she could not have her good name besmirched by the masses.

But, as distasteful as the aging old bat found her daughter to be, there were few things that Alessia herself despised more than being forced to join her mother; in yet another one of her more public displays. Parties hosted at the manor were of a different sort entirely, however. As much to her daughter's relief, her mother wished to see neither hide nor hare of her obtusely vexing child. And whereas such an occasion might have eased the weight of her mother's disappointment from her shoulders, it had not always.

For as long as she could remember, when either of her parents had invited guests over, she had been expected to stay in her chambers. Forbidden from trying to leave her quarters and against uttering but a sound, under fear of what her mother's wrath might bring. A fear that had held her by the throat, until she realized that even had she tried leaving or crying out, she would not have been able to.

One of her mother's favorite tricks had been to lock parts of the house off from her, sealing it with powerful silencing charms when she was little; and runes when she was older. There had been numerous occasions where she'd needed medical attention after a cut or scrape, but her calls went unanswered. Forced to try and bandage herself up in a muggle fashion and hope that once the party was over, her mother might be lucid enough to remember a healing spell. The only others left in the house were the servants, since her mother so despised the mangy look of the House Elves. Having them permanently dispatched had been one of her first moves as the new Mrs. Zabini.

The servants however, were expressly charged with waiting on the Zabini matriarch hand and foot. Ultimately, making them unable to leave their posts, for any reason, or risk being out of a job and ruined. Which was in part, half of the reason that Alessia's new home left her perplexed in more way than one.

In the Natari House, there were no sounds or indications that anyone other than the family resided within. There were multiple floors and perhaps around 30 rooms altogether; modest in terms of the true wealth they possessed.

Each room of the villa was carefully maintained by its occupants, as the Natari's each seemed to be quite familiar with casting their own cleaning charms. Similar, but oftentimes more powerful than the ones her family's servants used to employ. In fact, Alessia had bore witness to her husband's mother illustrating such a masterful skill with Arithmancy on more than one occasion. Her knowledge of the subject allowing her the keen ability to craft and strengthen some of the most difficult array of spells, on the mere turn of a sickle. The dauntless old witch seemed to have always been somewhat of a prodigy when it came to the Old Ways of spellcrafting, or so she'd heard.

Alessia found herself more than capable to do all the things she'd previously thought beneath her, or at the very least inconsequential. As the new Lady of the House, Nadia had immediately taken her under her wing. They spent hours learning recipes that had been passed down generation after generation, and which spells and preparation worked the best to enhance the ingredients' nutritional properties. Along with which ways she could go about adapting a recipe, to her own purposes. It was because of this, that her work in potioneering excelled beyond anything she could have hoped for.

In just a few short months, Alessia found she'd acquired as much talent in the kitchen as she did in the laboratories at school. The Zabini laboratories having been sealed off from her use; by her mother, who thought she should spend her time developing her 'womanly wiles' quietly in a corner of the house; wherein she would be less of a distraction to her and her husband. Alessia's father having long since disregarded any attempt to fight any of his wife's rules, for they had grown more tedious by the year.

Under Nadia's tutelage, she became adept at shifting between brewing healing droughts and elixirs one minute, and baking delicate chocolates the next. The general methods of preparation were very similar, if one discounted the grotesque nature some of the ingredients could take the shape of. Nadia was adamant in teaching how similar the process could be, to garner such different results. For true craftsmanship was required for both. 'But while precision is required to achieve optimum results Sia, without a heady passion behind such recipies, one cannot hope to achieve greatness.' Wise words that had guided her through many a situation in life.

Including the tenuous bond with her husband, who had taken such an instantaneous likening to her fiery spirit. To his parents, she was the daughter they'd always hoped to have, but also their most devout pupil. For with every little question she could think to ask, Nadia or her husband were there to explain and give such a carefully detailed answer to any of her queries; no matter the topic and without bias.

Oftentimes, their lessons were held outdoors, in the vast hillside out the back, when the men of the household were away. In the orchards behind the estate, was where they enjoyed laying out their lesson plans. Surrounded by all manner of fruits and vegetables imaginable ripening on the vine. Whether it was in season or not, thanks to the special plant-food Nadia brewed to help the trees produce throughout the rough winter months, against nature's pull.

In addition to her work with Nadia, her father had finally found the time to arrange for her private tutor to arrive. It was a few months after she'd settled in, that they were paid a visit from the aging wizard, who had been such a long-standing acquaintance of her father. She had known him since she was but a mere child. Mainly from dinners with her father's guests, but she remembered how he was different from the rest of the elitists present. He was an older gentleman with the fullest mustache she had ever seen, and eyes like warmed toffee tarts.

The two wizards had travelled with their families abroad together as children, and stayed in touch over the years. Which wasn't to say much, as both families had been connected by treaties and contracts since before the Middle Ages. As her tutor, he was genuine in his desire to see her do well in her studies, but even he was continuously flummoxed at the depth of knowledge she seemed to already have on the subjects. Nadia would always wink at her and invite him to stay for afternoon coffee and treats, to which he always declined. It wasn't until later, that they learned he'd taught his grandson most evenings over the summer. But with a few encouraging words, Nadia convinced him to bring along his other pupil, in hopes to give him a little encouragement in his potion-making.

However, her tutor's grandson was a handful from the moment they met. Young and with wide eyes full of mischief, young Gio managed to set fire to just about every room in the house. A feat that had his grandfather grievously apologizing, and both women in barely restrained laughter. But while the blonde haired menace didn't appear to have any Mastery in Potions waiting in the tea leaves, his work in Arithmancy following rigorous algorithms through transmutations and the like, was uncanny. The boy was as close to a savant as Merlin himself! Together they balanced each other's strengths and weaknesses. But she understood why his grandfather pursued education outside of Durmstrang hallowed halls. He would've been held back studying with those of his own age.

Both were so utterly determined to test for their NEWTs before their peers. For Alessia, that came in the harsh winter months, and for young Giovanni, only two summers thereafter. Neither could have known their paths would intertwine in her moment of need, nearly a century later.

The years had trickled away, much in the way sand did in an hourglass, overturned. Steady, at first, but altogether quicker than she cared to admit. Now, far from the fair witch she had once been, her skin was like a map of wrinkles and wear. But this fact didn't bother her nearly as much as the fact that her aches and pains, seemed to catch up with her more and more everyday. But with as many years as she had beneath her belt, she felt quite confidant in her abilities to navigate her way through the turmoil of the times.

Wars and prejudices still raged, much as they always would, she feared. But her resilience to cower at the feet of whichever upstart had swept through Italy's borders, had caused many a dispute among the pure-blooded lines in the area. Here, in the home that was once belonged to her husband's family, was where she still resided. Only now it served a far greater purpose than the modest home for one of the most prominent pure-blooded lines in all of Italy. She was now transformed into the beauteous Inn that welcomed travellers from near and far. Her home was a true home in all the meanings of the word, for she could not imagine living in any other. Travellers who sought refuge from the war were just as welcome as those who were simply passing through, in need of a good night's rest. Both were given respite from their weary travels and a warm meal to tide them over until morning.

But try as she might, Alessia remained ever so vigilant of trespassers or those she deemed suspicious. Even going so far as to routinely sweep the minds of newcomers, just to be safe. Her Legilimency skills remaining ever so sharp, after her frequent use, but she was even more reliant on her keen senses which had a way of weighing a person's intentions from only a few minutes in their company. As the wizened owner of one of the oldest establishments on the edge of Silvia Cimino, she drew quite a collection of customers. While some offered information to pass to the locals, regarding Lord Grindelwald's recent movements; others remained silent, but ever so vigilant. Hard times were upon Italy.

In fact, standing here in the heart of what had been her salvation from Zabini Manor, Alessia could recall only upon her ten fingers, the occurrences that had left her to be so regretful for the simple act of opening that heavy, oaken door to a member of the magical community. But one thing was for certain; few who entered with ill intentions left with a full purse, a full belly, and a firm grasp on exactly what it was they were there to do at all. They'd have no idea, the subtly planted thought she'd leave buried in the back of their mind. Where slept the wriggling need to confess their crimes and be absolved. A thought that would exponentially grow stronger over time, until it reached its resolution.

As for how many she'd come across here at the forest's edge, she'd say she had surely seen her fair share of both witches and wizards who had found themselves in such a state over the years. It was her duty after all, to allow no harm to come to those seeking asylum. For though Alessia could not bare a fool, she could not in good conscience suffer an opportunist with their heart set on harming another or worse stealing that which didn't belong to them. Especially when they were at their weakest. There was no honor in such treachery.

The Wayfarer, as it became known, had slowly become more than just an Inn to the ragged travelers near one of the most dangerous forests in all of Europe. Here, magical creatures hunted unrestricted and the wars of the Wizarding World were but an easily forgotten memory. The town of Terracina had grown away from the mysterious trees, for fear of their hidden danger. Leaving no trace of Muggles around for nearly half a day's journey; leaving for quite the desolate landscape, as nature reclaimed the land. The Natari orchards grew wild and unbidden, as they took over the abandoned fields. Providing quite a breathtaking view for the Inn's occupants. But whether Alessia's customers were of foreign blood or native, witches and wizards alike flocked to her for protection and not just for a room with a view.

The Natari family home, all stone and earthen beauty stood as proud as she always had, there on the valley's edge overlooking the world. A view that had a way of imbuing Alessia with a sense of being, and above all determination to protect what little she could. At this age, she felt pride about so few things, that here in this place she called home, she could not help but to throw her shoulders back and incline her chin just a touch farther north. The manner of which had been pressed into her very bones, since an early age. But here, outside of that dreadful manner from whence she'd experienced such childhood horrors, she welcomed these people with opened arms much as the Natari's had welcomed her into theirs. Here, she opened her door to those in need, regardless of age, creed, color or the magical core housed deep within their bodies. Dark and Light were welcomed here. A statement so true, that it left Alessia irritated more often than not; as she had long lost count of the number of times she was forced to break up a burgeoning duel based on a difference in views.

But one thing Alessia had always known was that one day, someone would come knocking who she could not fight. For the war was gaining steam, and it grew ever closer by the year. All this prejudice would only get worse as the Ministries moved to further take away rights that they aught naught to have, for those who spoke out were not the type to cower away from a fight. The killing would start soon, she could feel it on the air. For those pure of blood and rotten to the core with their bigoted ideals, filled the seats of wizarding politics. Further lining their pockets with galleons of those who had bribed their way out of their crimes. Pure-bloods simply did not know how to peacefully coexist without castigating those less fortunate than themselves. It was a fact that had existed a hundred years before she was born, and would probably fester a hundred years after she was long gone. For as much as time seemed immobile here in the safety of her family's blood wards, time did indeed pass by.

Nowadays, the Ministry was so much more involved in everyday life than it had been when she herself was a youngling. Or at least from what little she was able to glean from the papers in her father's study. Now, magical creatures and beings fought not only to be able to live quietly, they fought to be able to join the workforce and to study magic with other magical children. For their rights to own a wand! They had lived in the shadows before, and knew that such an existence was no way to live. But as forward thinking as the Ministries liked to believe themselves to be, Alessia knew they might never move ahead of the Muggles in their discriminatory ways. Matters of race, sexual orientation, and blood were ideals forbidden to even be spoken of in the sacred halls of the Wizengamot.

So while yes, Alessia knew she could be arrogant in her own right due to the confidence she possessed upon her abilities. Her skill was due to long hours practicing and developing her spellcraft. And more often than she cared to admit, from having to deal with those who thought she was a bit too outspoken, for a 'good pure-blooded woman.' A mistake she was more than correct by stringing them up by their boots from her favorite olive tree overhanging the cliff's edge. She didn't stand for bigotry and certainly not in her own home. Some thought she was too harsh, but she knew most had lived their whole lives without anyone teaching them a mite of respect.

It was however a completely different matter, to put someone else down due to their background or state of being, in which they had little choice in. It didn't matter to her where these people came from; as long as they held respect in one hand and responsibility for their actions in the other. It also didn't hurt if they had gallons in their pockets for the fee of a room, and if they didn't she wasn't above finding some other means by which they could pay their fare. Her indifference to such things as blood purity was one of the things that her parents had despised. The more prominent it became, the further they went to sever ties completely.

She could admit that her rebellious nature was led her want to embarrass them or shame them in some manner, not by her will to do good. A cause she had not fully understood until later. Her parents never could have known that the prominent family in which they were, for lack of a better word, selling her to as a means to dust their hands of her, would have fed her spirit like an everlasting fire. Spite had long since settled within her veins every time she thought of her parents, before she found her place in the arms of those that had welcomed her to their family.

However it tragically seemed as though this generation possessed naught an ounce of respect - for others and possibly even worse, themselves. Ignoranti, il sacco di loro. She shook her head a fraction toward each side as she attempted to hide her disgust at the blatant disrespect, mentally rebuking them as she thought 'Ignorant, the lot of them'. It almost made Alessia able to swallow down the fact that her aging body would one day give out on her. The fact that she was unable to live forever, and therefore she would not have to bear witness to just what would become of the Magical World that she so loved.

Almost, but not quite.

For people - no matter the race, religion or age - always possessed the ability to change. So she could not ignore it for anything short of disgusting abuse of power and influence. Even if most upstanding witches and wizards didn't outright accept such things, those that lived in fear and shadows certainly did. For just as omission was just as painful as the lie itself, standing idly by while others were oppressed was a crime of no parallel.

Throughout the many years that came to pass since she had first opened The Wayfarer, she had been known to develop a sort of sixth sense toward danger. Those, whose appearance instantly rose the hair at the back of her neck, caused much suspicion and unease to blossom in her gut. It invoked such a sensation within her, as it spiked at her intuition, that it never ceased to make Alessia fully alert around them, as such occurrences only ended in trouble.

The two figures standing upon her threshold on this fateful night, could not have seemed more suspicious if they'd tried. Alessia's hair was on end, and her eye was twitching at the strain of trying to penetrate the fiery one's powerful Occlumency shields. The very instant that she had locked her dark brown orbs upon the young woman with orbs as bright as the dreaded Killing Curse, she had wanted to throw niceties out the window. Her twisted, gleeful smile curving upon her lips was one of burgeoning madness, which was something Alessia tried to limit to daytime hours only.

It was at this precise moment, that Alessia Natari had to resist the overwhelming urge to slam the door in both of their faces. If it were simply her home, she was certain she would have. But standing here knowing what this place meant to her and the only woman she'd ever wanted as a mother, she knew she could not. For as resilient as Nadia Natari had been, she had a heart of gold, and a need to help any creature or person she could. Denying them both entry, and leaving them to suffer the unusually drafty night on her doorstep would have shamed her in more ways than one.

But that grave sensation refused to abate. Perhaps it was the black cloaks they wore, making their appearance far more ominous than need be. It certainly didn't endear them to her, hiding themselves from her perusal. Merlin, she'd seen dementors with more color in their cheeks than these two! She suspected that such a description was not as far off as it might have seemed. Particularly when this one's eyes gleamed like that of a ferocious Mother Dragon protecting her young.

She knew then, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the witch with hair as bright as freshly spun copper, was going to be a handful at best.

Foreigners, Alessia predicted almost instantly based on how only one half of duo had answered; her own orbs still narrowed upon their forms as the cool night air sent shivers down her spine. Alessia allowed herself to take a momentary pause when the two women before her had not offered a similar reaction, in fact the only visible sign that the wind had touched them was the way the bottom hem of their black cloaks rustled in the soft breeze. Quite the powerful heating charm, to leave no trace whatsoever. Not even the slightest warmth leaked from the barriers when the breeze sliced through.

Not many witches in their age group could have succeeded in casting such a thing, even for naught but a few minutes as they tended to wear off after a certain amount of time. It was a fact that tended to make the wizarding world go for Dragonhide leather much alike Muggles would go for their own selection of finely spun wool, another wayward fact that she collected throughout her years. Either way, Alessia found herself starting to become grudgingly impressed with the two unknown witches before her. Based solely on the way that the redhead's counterpart stilled at Alessia's question and visibly shifted her attention to her friend, it was quite possible that the other female whom remained concealed underneath the shadowy depths of her cloak wasn't familiar with the language. Or at least not enough to be able to catch everything being said. Alessia counted herself thankful that she didn't even attempt to do so, for Alessia had long since run out of patience for such things, for at the very least another month. 'Not another foreigner mockingly trying their hand at Italian. Thank Morgana for small miracles.'

Against her better judgement and the unshakable, gut wrenching sensation that constricted her insides with it's illusioned cords, Alessia slowly sidestepped to the left and allowed the pair of them to move forward into the shelter of the Inn. After all, Alessia reasoned silently with a mental shrug after eying the duo one last time, Mamma always did say that 'All business has the potential to become good business.' Hopefully her words would not lead her astray after all these years, even from beyond the grave.

"What is it that I can do for the pair of you?" She questioned roughly in English after the door scraped along on the floorboards, followed by the familiar hefty bang that came soon after and echoing into the hall. This was one of the moments that Alessia was appreciative to have picked up bits and pieces of English in all her years here, though it was still a horrendous task that she was still unaccustomed to. But nonetheless, it was here inside the comfort of her home that she was given a clear view of exactly who she had just invite in.

Illuminated by the torches lining the hall and the hearth to her left, their murky features became clear. Granting Alessia a good view of who she'd allowed inside from the cold. In the flames, both of their features shone softly in their collective paleness. But though these two women could not have differed anymore in outward appearances, their demeanor mirrored each other's in the way that they both held their heads high in a newfound confidence and their shoulders brushed each others' in solidarity. Alessia could tell from the way that their orbs shined with their steadfast loyalty, that they each held much respect for each other.

"A room," The redhead spoke; once again taking the lead; her voice had become noticeably softer this time – but even so she still seemed to effortlessly command back Alessia's attention even before she stepped forward with a sense of ease. "For starters, if you please."

Alessia's dark eyes whipped to the brazen young witch with such a commanding tone. As upon their own accord, her lips began to tighten into a firm unimpressed line. It wasn't long until her intrigue slowly started to bleed through her facial expression. Her eyebrow inching further north by the second. Who raised this witch? 'For starters,' indeed! Presumptuous little nuisances the lot of them, I tell you...

"Tre Gallons ciascuno." She claimed her usual price of 'Three gallons each' in her native tongue, never allowing her dark brown orbs to stray away from the curious pair of women as she reached out her olive toned hand toward the pair. Unable to resist lashing out much in the same manner the young witch had worded her 'request' just moments before.' She found herself echoing the crimson haired witch's words in English though it held a heavy accent, "..If you please."

The curved, tight lipped smile that had come to rest upon the fiery haired child's face slowly transitioned into a much more sincere grin at the older woman's quick witted banter, the glint of respect that was housed with that shade of Avada Kedavra green, grew and seemed to lighten them impossibly further. Whilst her raven haired companion looked a bit more amused than Alessia would have likened, it made Alessia try to recall exactly what she did to garner such reactions that made one stranger amused and the other impressed. What exactly had she done to earn such reactions from these women, one that had been received with such blatant approval? Was it because she echoed the crimson haired woman's own words? If it was so, why would such a small action be handled with respect? It warranted curiosity, just about everything about these two did as far.

"Of course." Shea slowly bowed her head in comprehension, her emerald gemmed orbs flashing in the candle light with a mixture of approval and delight.

Years of fighting for her own independence and her liberties against many that sought to rip them away from her flashed once again to the forefront of her mind, and in this moment Shea couldn't help but appreciate the strong, powerful woman that stood before them. Mrs. Black had been right to respect such a woman and Shea knew that if Signora Alessia Natari were to be somehow made an ally in the future... it would be much more ideal to have made a powerful ally out of her; rather than a formidable foe.

With all that power and knowledge that this woman undoubtedly possessed, it made Shea naturally take a better likening to the first option more so than the second. It was a natural thought process for her now, to look to build up the empire before the battle would commence once again, to have those she cared for protected at any cost. To only have the most trusted soldiers amongst them, after all their enemies will show naught an ounce of mercy - Shea promised herself that she would give them the same favor as they gave the others. Dumbledore went by a different code of conduct, a wayward set of rules upon the chessboard where he named her and those close to her heart as nothing more than his pawns.

This time I will be ready for you, Albus Dumbledore, and I will make damn sure that I have as many people with me as I possibly could recruit. The game is already afoot. Rage fueled within her veins as Shea thought of the man that would rue the day he ever set his sights upon her family, before she mentally shook away those thoughts of expanding her list of allies for the upcoming storm ahead for such a time and place was not now, and moved to open her bottomless bag of treasures to fish out the appropriate amount of coins to pay for the both of them. The flame of the nearby torch flickered across the coins' surface; curving brightly against the edges of the gold as Shea dropped the coins gently into Alessia's outstretched palm. She then took a respectable step back, watching quietly as the older woman individually examined each one closely to make certain of it's authenticity. After a few more moments, Alessia nodded her head in approval before pocketing the money into the front pocket of her dress and tilted her head sharply to the right in gesture to the stairwell that led to the second floor.

"Seguimi per piacere." Alessia requested in Italian for the pair of them to 'Follow me please', even though she knew that only one would understand her words. She didn't need to spare a glance behind her to know that they had both heeded the direct order that she gave them, even when they moved as silently and as elegantly as the shadows they cast onto the earth, for the small hairs on the back of Alessia's neck still stood up on end. It was only when she finally reached the top of the stairs did she turn to look at the younger females that were following behind her at a respectable pace; not too closely but also not lagging behind. "Oh," Alessia spoke roughly in English once again and though it was a task that she usually left to her hired help, she dared to continue on with absolutely no warmth, "and welcome to Italia."

Alessia turned to continue on before they had time to speak, leaving both females in her wake and after eying after the older woman silently for a few moments, Shea offered Merope a comical expression that had her chuckling under her breath. Before both women schooled their faces, hiding the brevity they had each found in the older woman's gruff reception.

"I think I'm already starting to take a liking to her," Merope whispered. Her words fading in her companion's ears, as Shea walked with a slower step than usual; realising she'd not had such a lighthearted moment in years. Emotions, had been one of the tools that had been used against her. Twisting the knife in further, was the fact that she'd truly opened herself up for them to wreak such havoc. Allowed herself to become the prey and not the hunter. Mrs. Black had worked with her for weeks to master her guise, and she refused to let it all go to waste over a small slip in a home not her own. A fact which irritated her more, that she had no true place to call home quite yet. For she deeply wished to shed her protective skin, and share with Merope some of the finer details toward her plans. But she knew such would not be a wise decision, especially with the other occupants resting just behind these thin walls.

So emotionless she stood, for Shea Potter refused to be prey for anyone ever again. But Merope, the openhearted woman that she was, had a way of seeping her way underneath her skin; moving with her blood to settle in the place nearest her heart. Her onyx haired friend seemed to know just what Shea was doing when she grew quiet, for she grasped her dear friend's hand in her own. Needing to offer her appreciation for the redhead's ability to make her smile so. Squeezing her hand, she let as much emotion as as she dared to show exude from her strange eyes.

"You know, she reminds me of someone I know. I just wish I could remember who..." The Gaunt heir taunted her friend in the breathy manner she always spoke. "A certain red haired woman with a 'hard to fool, hard to please' exterior." She chuckled.

"I don't know whom you are referring to, dear friend." Shea responded indignantly without raising her voice, though her companion could still make out the slight lilt of her jovial banter. "Do I know her?"

"Well, I should hope so. After all, I may not speak Italian but I dare to say that she is quite remarkable. What it is she's done here, it's like something of legend. Perhaps something even you might have heard about from before." Her subtle meaning was clear to her companion, but reserved enough to go unnoticed by any eavesdroppers.

Merope let loose a soft laugh as Shea gently elbowed her good naturedly to hush, before moving up the rest of the wooden steps, leaving Merope to follow behind. It was only when the pair of them reached the darkened landing that Alessia lit the sconces on this top floor, to reveal a series of closed doors that stood parallel stoned walls. Merope dutifully followed behind Shea, as her friend swept down the hall to where Alessia stood in front of a smooth maple door.

"Sharing?" Alessia voiced her question as they got close, to which Shea proclaimed that the two of them had no problem sharing. Alessia nodded her head sharply in confirmation before rapidly speaking in Italian to the redhead on how things worked here at the Inn; how the doors were charmed to be keyed to their magic this way theft wasn't an option and if they caused even a hint of trouble to any degree she wouldn't hesitate to throw them out. The six Gallons they gave would buy them a week each, turning one week into two; which was more than enough time as far as Shea was concerned. Shea nodded her head softly in understanding and after giving Merope a quickened glance to silently let her know that she would update her later on, she easily brought forth her magic from deep within her core.

Alessia's dark orbs widened as the crimson haired young woman released her magic from the unwavering fortress it had been previously concealed behind. A sun-kissed hand dancing upon the smoothened texture of the door in front of them. This power had been more than Alessia had expected a young woman to possess, more so than many that she had ever crossed paths with. Perhaps this was the reason behind the wariness that I had first felt for them, the Innkeeper mused to herself. What kind of savant stood before her, capable of hiding in plain sight, as she was? She found herself wondering.

From whom was the fiery beauty descended from? If Alessia had to guess, she would bet everything that she had that it was nothing short of Morgana Le Fay herself! Could it be that she had been previously responding to the sheer power that this woman with untamable fiery hair, magic possessed? Magic that was far beyond that of her years. Alessia wracked her brain thinking of any foreign members of the Sacred 28 that were left to birth such a child. Even more surprising, should she discover the young woman to be of mixed blood. Just who was she?

Almost as if on cue; the door swung open on it's own accord, hitting the wall behind it with a resounding bang and not for the first time since working here, Alessia was thankful that all the rooms held a powerful silencing charm. If not for the loud slams and creaks of just about every piece and part in this old house, then surely to protect her temples from the Morgana forsaken snores some of her customers were in denial over having.

Shea moved forward slowly, narrowing her orbs upon every detail of that around her with an eye for design, before nodding her head once in approval. The beds rested against the far wall, with fresh linens adorning them. Shea inhaled the smell of newly laundered cottons and freshly cut lavender residing in the air. Almost immediately, she could imagine herself falling asleep in that bed; with little fear that her night terrors would rip her from her peaceful dreams. Overall, the room was in feminine colors of soft lilacs and crisp whites. All excepting the seating area by the large window, which was a tasteful mix of pale grays and a deep aubergine settee. The window itself seemed to light up more of the room than the candles, with its sprawling view of the orchards under the silvery moonbeams. The bath appeared to be just beyond the beds.

Merope, whom had slowly followed her into the room, found herself gazing out the window in awe of the simple beauty nature provided of the valley below.

"Che altro deve la coppia di avete bisogno?" Alessia questioned 'What else shall the pair of you require?' in a pleasant tone of voice, mindful of the fact that it had been 'A room, for starters.' Shea smiled gently at the older woman after catching sight of how Alessia stood in front of the doorway; though she didn't enter into the room, the darker woman held her hands folded in front of her body with that of which reflected proper pureblood mannerisms.

"Please come in Signora Natari.. We have some business to discuss." Shea locked her eyes upon Alessia's form as she spoke; silently bemused at how the older witch regarded both Merope and herself with growing suspicion that clouded her facial expression. She expected as such before they even came here; after all Shea knew with certainty that trust was not something to be found, it was earned. Alessia's dark orbs bounced back and forth reading the room, as Alessia moved forward into the room gracefully, forcing herself to remain outwardly calm and collected as the door magically slammed shut behind her at Shea's command. The old witch stood at the ready. More than ready to grasp her wand, should the occasion arise, but hoping that such an incident did not.

"Business?" Alessia echoed in English, daringly meeting the eyes of the two before her with her own. How is it that these two young witches could seal themselves off from my efforts with Legilimency. It is a Darker Art than most Light lines continue to teach their young, and neither one of these women bears the feel of one who practices the Darker sort. As much as they show the markers for having received a proper pureblood education, she did not know of any lines that quite fit. Who were they and what 'business' did they want to conduct with a woman that the pair of them had met naught ten minutes ago?

If she needed to, Alessia supposed that she could take the pair of them down, but there was something different about each one. Something that made Alessia steadily watch each one for some hint as to how they might seek to challenge her, here in her own home. Something about them made her distinctly curious. Maybe it was their powerful magic that was so much alike her own, not quite dark but certainly not light. Maybe it was that they were so strongly bonded, like she remembered sharing with Nadia upon occasion. Their magics had been so complimentary, Nadia had once told her that it was why she knew Alessia was the one for her son. For he was too much like his father in terms of his interests and desires. Her Mamma, in all but blood; her teacher in all of the ways she needed. Maybe, it was more than that of which could be seen or described. There were more to these two young women than they revealed, and it made Alessia far too curious about what it was to turn her back now.

"Indeed." Merope stepped forward with a nod of her head, moving on an angle across the room until she was once again side by side Shea. Her wayward eyes, Alessia had noticed almost immediately, housed a gentle glint that mirrored the tone of voice that she used. The softness that complimented her friend's edge; a softness that Alessia hadn't bared witness to in what seemed to be many years.

"You see we wish to present a trade. We are looking for someone that we were told that you are... acquainted with, and simply require you to write to this person requesting to meet somewhere public." Shea spoke her terms formally; politely, making Alessia almost consider the fact that she had simply imagined the dangerous, wild glimpse that was the other side of the redhaired beauty. Almost. "In doing so, I shall give you a powerful healing balm from that wound of yours, Signora Natari."

Alessia narrowed her eyes into sharpened daggers at these words as well as the knowing glint that now entered those deadly green orbs, "...Come?" The word she spoke was not the same in English as in Italian. It was the questioned '...How?' that made Shea's smile grow impossibly wider; it was also that one word, enlaced with confusion and suspicion that made Shea almost uncertain of just what Alessia was asking. How she had known of the wound or how had she obtained such a healing balm that was much too advanced for this current day and age?

Shea readily answered the first option, for the second was impossible to explain. "I can sense it. The deep rooted anguish that you currently feel." Shea offered as an explanation before opening her black, bottomless bag once again to summon from the shadowy depths the balm that, if applied twice a day, could vanish any scar marking the person's skin in only the short time span of a couple of days. A scar that, otherwise, would be forever etched upon the skin until the person was naught but a decaying corpse. Alessia's orbs sparkled as she mentally translated the English label into her native language. Was such a level of healing even achievable … or was this indeed an attempt at trickery like she suspected?

She had been denied by multiple healers since the incident; all of whom had claimed that the agony she was plagued by would never fade until the very moment that her soul departed from this earth in death. Her remedies, that she was so fond of, were to help manage her pain, as there was no such cure for her ailments. Whatever it was growing inside of her, it ate at her energy and caused her bones to grow weaker every day. Alessia took a step forward to examine the label further but had to take pause when the pair in front of her mirrored her movement, with a backwards step of their own.

"Ah, ah." Shea only half mockingly admonished with a shake of her pointer finger to Alessia, playfully scolding her for the curiosity that was behind her movements even though the redhead suspected such skepticism from the other woman. "You must send the letter first, bared witness by the two of us and as per our agreement only then I shall grant you this.." Alessia watched cautiously as Shea stepped forward with agile grace, her movements as graceful as they were predatorial. The crimson haired beauty stopped only a few feet away from the older woman to reach out a hand in offering, opposite to the one that had been previously caressing the large, circular receptacle used to house the healing balm ... and probably Alessia's only hope.

"So tell me, Signora Natari… do we have an accord or not?" At this delicately asked question, Alessia shifted her orbs from the advance healing balm to the redhead's expectant facial expression that was only complete with an elegantly raised eyebrow. Any chance of getting better … was a chance Alessia was willing to take.

"Who is it that you are trying to find, childe?" The older woman questioned as she reached one of hands forward to shake the other that was already outstretched to her, and Alessia was just counted herself thankful that the two words 'Unbreakable Vow' hadn't passed either of their lips. It showed a level of trust; though Alessia knew naught what she had done to deserve it.

"A person we suspect to be a valued friend of yours since childhood, Madam." Merope began to speak with a gentle tone of voice, soothed by the fact that Shea seemed to be able to convince her into a deal, "A gentleman by the name of 'Vincent Gianni DiMarco'.."

Alessia stilled at the full name of her childhood friend that had grown from the boy that played with her as a child to the renowned architect that these two women were looking for... She narrowed her dark orbs in suspicion that once again people were searching for him, begging him to come out of retirement. "In the market for a home, I presume?" She pursed her lips with an unimpressed expression upon her face at the pair before locking eyes with green, "The pair of you realize that he has rightfully earned his retirement as well as his solitude - that you both would be invading, yes?"

Shea's facial expression softened even more at the protective tone of voice that Alessia all but spat at them from the scowl that dominated her lips. "We mean not to bother him in any way, Signora Natari. We have heard of his work and respect him for all that he has archived. We still wish for you to proceed with the letter.. As a Gaunt heir will need to be born in a respectable house. A safe haven that we suspect only a DiMarco would be able to construct for us."

Alessia paused to an abrupt, visible standstill at the word 'Gaunt;' and it was only after searching the name through her recollection, her eyes widened considerably as they sparkled with surprise. Pinning the other soft-spoken woman a look of renewed interest, as she shifted considerably at the mention of a new heir. For it was a Gaunt line that descended from the infamous English wizard 'Salazar Slytherin'; his lineage was thought to be lost by the insanity that bore from his very own mind, or as some people claimed. This new insight mind explain a lot of the questions that she had in regards to them. Alessia composed her features after a couple of seconds before raising an eyebrow at the two of them, "You do perfectly comprehend that while I can send the letter requesting for him to meet you … that does not mean that he won't refuse your overall request for work?"

The two younger females nodded their head in unison to express their understanding, faces set in stone and their differentiating orbs shining with determination. Alessia allowed a sigh to pass through the scowl on her lips before nodding her own head in agreement. ...Such stubbornness - such fire - in the youth this day and age. Though, it appears that the Gaunt family lineage is going to make a shocking reappearance in the Wizarding Community soon. How interesting a turn of events this will be.

"...Very well then. I do believe that we have a deal." Alessia murmured in approval after a momentary lapse of silence; a swell of eagerness to witness what the duo of women before her were destined to accomplish vibrated from deep within her chest. For she knew, even if Alessia had literally just met them; that they were destined to achieve things that others would have deemed as arduous. It seemed that the pair of women that stood before her seemed to go above and beyond to achieve their mutual goals, no matter the limits that were aimed by others to constrict them.

Failure wasn't an option for either of them, Alessia knew that from the very first glimpse she took of their eyes in the candlelight downstairs. Forged by situations unknown, they stood together with an imposing presence and warily cautioning everyone around them. Their words oozing with ambitious qualities that warranted respect from Alessia herself, and held a nearly unveiled threat from the one who's hair was of fire; or at least more so than that of her darker haired companion.

With her intuition sparkling to life within her, Alessia felt with vibrating anticipation that the day would one day come to pass that the two of them were going to change the Magical Community as a whole from what everyone knew it to be as of now. These two women were destined for greatness, that she held no doubt. And it was with that feeling growing within her heart as she bore her eyes upon them... that for what seemed like for the very first time in a long while; Alessia looked into the light of tomorrow with new hope.

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