CHAPTER THREE
✧
-: villa misapinoa :-

── IN WHICH THE CONGREGATION
IS INTRODUCED

. . .

IT HAD BEEN TOO LONG since she awoke in her own bed. For this to happen on any normal day, it meant a night of nothing but laying awake in crumpled sheets with her ears trained not on music - no, it would be far too late for that by the time she believed herself weary enough to divulge her attention to the land of sleep - but the neverending song of bugs that tried to beat down the wooden shutters at her windows and the buzz of the faulty electric bulb that hung in the hand-painted fitting that had been her's since her parents made up her nursery. 

Usually, she found herself waking up in her friend's bedroom or living room, or on some of the warmer nights they would simply end up crashing on a blanket set in the corner of the field they had drunk away the evening in. They would wake up with an arm or leg burnt from the sun and laugh because thye were a little hungover and couldn't really feel the pain of it at all and they didn't really mind that much that their breakfast would be a cigarette and last dregs of mixers and various fruit they had attempted to use to decorate their drinks when they were sober. 

And if not, if she had woken up in the actual vicinity of her home and not so far she would find the soles of her feet blistering and her sandals carried by only two of her fingers without so much of an ounce of energy needed to put them down and on, she would wake up in what was now Regulus's room.

It had been a spare room for so long that it had become her room in the main house. Her mother came into dust, her father often came to find a book, but it was her's. She would wake up, books strewn around her ankles and a pillow from the bed pushed between the wall and her back, the imprint of her head disrupting the built shape. 

But now, the morning after the arrival of a family whom she could have only imagined existing, Melina awoke in her own bed, stray from the shackles of her habits and forced upon nothing but a menial effort of dragging herself from the mattress and painted metal frame. Her pyjamas were replaced by her swimsuit and a shirt that didn't quite happen to meet the lower half of her thighs but didn't requre for her to dig out the heavy material of shorts she tended to avoid. 

She couldn't quite bother with shoes, nor with the task of making her bed, hair pulled back by her hair instead of brushing before deciding that the presence of her guests requited otherwise and it ended up pinned back in a haphazard style that was half falling out, and she forgot all about the fact they had a front door and climbed out of her window as she usually did, book in hand and a cigarette hanging from her lips, the usual course of killing her hunger. 

Melina danced across the track that separated her home from the one they looked after, trying to remember if she had left some shoes in the villa that would mean she could avoid returning to the house and made her way into the open front doors of the house, passing all the way through the hallway of terracota tiles that she really wished were not so cold and exited out onto the patio.

"Ah - Melina." Her father was sat at the head of the wooden table they had eaten at the night before and he was by no means alone; his wife was sat adjacent to him, whilst sat on the opposite side sat Mrs Black and Regulus, who was slowly scraping raspberry jam over a slice of bread and keeping his attention content on the cup of coffee near to where his right hand rested. 

"Good morning." She said, all too politely with the cigarette held carefully between her fingers, lifted to her lips for another drag before it was snatched away. 

Odette was on her feet, pushing the stub beneath the toe of her shoes. "Eat." She demanded, guiding her daughter down to a seat and holding her down by her shoulders, leaning over so that she was able to select a couple more slices of the bread, a handful of fruit and one of the pastries she had prepared the night before. "You slept in. You're lucky I decided not to send you to the bakery."

"Perhaps." Melina hummed, eyes flickering across the table. "Regulus." She spoke, not far much bothered by the fact her punishment for sleeping too late could have been an early awakening. The dark-haired boy looked up. "Jam, please." She asked. "Grazie."

She received the jar and began to spread it across the bread she had been offered, as well as leaving a small spoonful to spread amongst the insides of the fresh cornetti her mother had placed upon her plate. 

"Are you planning on attending church this morning, Ragazza?" Her father's voice was ready to break through the calm that had spread once she settled. Hazel eyes looked up again. "Regulus and Walburga have agreed to join us this morning, perhaps you shall too." 

"Papá."

"Melina."

"I'll go." Melina swallowed her wishes to spend the morning doing nothing but lounging in the sun by the old pool on the property. "I suppose Antonio,  Adriane, Camillo and Dina will be there."

"And you may discuss your tutorage with Diana." Odette nodded, looking approving of the subject matter. She leant forward and garnered the attention of a silent Walburga. "Elena Gallo, the daughter of the poultry farm in the area, is marrying Javier Rosales."

Walburga nodded, although the movement seemed far too pointy to be friendly. "I assume," she began in the haughty tone Melina believed they should become accustomed to, "he's not a local."

"No, he travelled." Lina wasn't looking up as she replied, something that didn't quite appeal to the manners required to interact with one Mrs Black - she expected the very best from anyone who spoke to her, or was just far too used to the company she once kept, company she couldn't expect to continue now that she was in Italy. "He wanted to travel from one side of Europe to the other. He went from Barcelona to Lisbon and then set off for Minsk in Belarus."

Walburga could only nod, usual expectations dashed by reality and instead forcing herself to smile. "I see." She said politely.

"He only got to Trento before turning back." Melina added. She poured herself a cup of espresso and drained it, nose wrinkling at the bitter taste. "They're getting married in a couple of weeks." She stood up, reaching into the pocket of her shirt and pulling out another cigarette. She ate the last bite of her breakfast - the end of the cornetti - before stepping away. "I shall go change." She announced.

The drifting smell of tobacco was familiar and Regulus forced himself to avert his eyes from the retreating back of the girl, whose shirt wasn't hiding her silhouette from the Sunday sun.

✧

Mass wasn't quite anything that Regulus had expected. He hardly believed it to be anything similar to what he had experienced - to him, ritualistic services consisted of masks and dark robes that concealed appearances - but this seemed far from that, and it hadn't even begun yet. 

They had driven there, Regulus in the back of Leonardo's car alongside his wife, whilst Mrs Black sat in the front seat in a pressed grey dress he believed he had seen her far too many times during the summer alongside Mr Solara. Melina had refused the offer of a ride and instead rode alongside them on her bike before veering off the road in some kind of shortcut. 

She had arrived before them too, her bike leaning against the wall outside of the small cemetery that surrounded the ornate-looking church. It was evident that should they not have been there, it would have been strikingly obvious; majority of the small town had turned out for the weekly event, Catholic pride amongst the Italians was apparent.

He stood with his mother whilst they waited for the beginning of the service, which seemed to be some time away from their initial arrival. It was a tight-knit community, much like what he had seen in Hogsmeade on the various, vicarious outings that came through his educational years, and because of this, it seemed that mass had become some kind of group social event that had an interval of Catholicism between. 

Leonardo was being embraced by an older woman who Melina looked like a far younger version of - his mother or older sister, he presumed - and his wife stood by the shoulder of Walburga, pointing out significant members gathered around the entrance to the church with the discretion of a well-trained housekeeper who promised to keep her mistress in the know of all matters concerning society a century or so before. Which, Regulus supposed, she was by all means exactly that. 

Lina, as he had expected, had found the boy who had delivered the dessert the previous night amongst others his age, most of which appeared with stony faces, frowns and sunglasses, nursing a hangover each. One of the girls was looking his way over dark frames, Melina's gaze following and meeting his gaze before sharing a couple of quickly spoken words and heading his way.

She came to a stop in front of him, her expression rather diplomatic. "Regulus, my friends-" Melina gestured behind her with a smile, and Regulus watched as they all suddenly looked rather cheery and welcoming as they waved (he pretended not to notice as one of the boys elbowed a girl to life), "are rather curious to meet you. They all speak French, don't worry."

"Ah." Regulus nodded. "Do... do a lot of people speak French here?"

"Majority do." Melina replied. "Antonio is a year older and he had to retake it several times. He knows the language well, now. Everyone else passed quite quickly."

"I see." He dug his hands in his pockets. "Am I to meet your friends, then?"

"If you wish."

His head turned away from her. "Mother." Melina watched, not completely unaware of what he was saying now that he had switched to English once more. She had only taken a term or so of the language, and although she naturally picked it up along the way and could read it quite well, she found it unusually hard to understand when it was spoken. "Melina is to introduce me to her friends." Regulus said. "I shall see you inside the church." 

"Yes, yes." Walburga waved him away, an action all too familiar to her son; it meant that she was more interested in something else other than controlling him, or overseeing what he was doing. This time, she was listening to Odette dutifully informing her of the names, positions and importance of others within the town, promising to introduce them before the service took place on her lips. "If you must." She added, a second later, but it didn't quite change much. 

Regulus turned back to Melina, about to express his wishes to be introduced - no matter how hellish that seemed (he was by no means a people's person, but he got the feeling that this was something he was supposed to do here) it appeared that she was hoping he would agree - but only found that she was looking at him rather curiously. 

"Is there something on my face?" He asked, not sure whether it was vanity or consciousness that brought him to that conclusion. 

"No." She said firmly, beginning to walk away from her family and towards her friends. Regulus followed quite willingly. "It just... it seems as though your mother doesn't quite care that you were leaving her side."

Melina was strikingly curious and her eyes narrowed ever so slightly as she experienced Regulus do nothing but hum another 'ah' in return, a small shake in his head joining it. There had been no expectations of him divulging his life's secrets to her, but something inside her made her believe she deserved more than an 'ah'. That, she supposed, was one of her flaws. 

Soon, they came to stand in front of her group of friends all of which had made the conscious effort to appear somewhat more enticing to the newcomer, their sunglasses pushed up over their hair which was hastily brushed through with fingers and the boy who seemed a little more awake than most others had adjusted the clothing of those who couldn't. Overall, they became more friendly and welcoming yet, like Melina, there was an obvious wonder in their eyes. 

"I've never met an Englishman before." One of them stuck his hand out hastily - it was the boy who didn't seem to be nursing his consciousness away from a drunken evening. "Camillo Carlevaro, my family own the grocery store in town."

Regulus, without an ounce of the usual distaste that seemed to come from him being forced to shake someone's hand, shook Camillo's. "Regulus Black." He replied. 

"Camillo's met an Englishman before, I assure you." One of the girls all but rolled her eyes, following her friend's actions and holding out a hand. "I'm Bianca Catteneo."

There was a recurring set of introductions following that; Antonio Boerio, whom Regulus already knew to be from the family who owned the majority of cattle in the area, and his younger brother Lorenzo and Adriane Pittaluga whose family owned a vineyard that people from all over the world came to taste the wine there. There were mentions of others as well, who weren't from the village but instead a town ten minutes away, but those introductions would come if necessary and in complete honesty, Regulus didn't care whether they ocurred or not.

He watched quietly, listening as Melina talked animatedly to her friends, hyper-aware of her parents watching from various angles and his own mother watching with a keen eye to see that her son was making an effort to engage in conversation. It soon became evident that the more social aspect of the morning was soon to be over as the people outside of the small church were beginning to trickle through the wooden doors as the hour neared. 

"I'll call you." Melina promised, turned away from Regulus and currently holding Adriane's hand, fingers intertwined and swinging between them as they spoke in quick, fluent French. "We can make plans."

"Did you not go last night?" Adriane blinked, looking back towards Antonio and Camillo as they talked amongst themselves.

"No, no." Antonio's memory of their conversation the previous night was slightly tainted by the amount he drunk just hours later but he did turn towards Regulus and pull the rather oblivious boy into something of a hug, arm over his shoulders. "Our guest proved lucky with her attention." 

Regulus chuckled, and as much as he usually avoided being pulled into hugs and was much more used to remaining stoic and alone, he didn't really mind that Antonio had done so, and the chuckle was real. "Yes, I was rather lucky. Dinner was... enjoyable." He added, having needed a moment to remember it in the language. "Piacevole." He added, in Italian.

"Yeah, it was." Melina agreed, before hearing her name and turning, her father stood behind alongside his own parents; her grandparents, who were gesturing her over. "Oh - Regulus, you don't mind, do you?"

Regulus shook his head, unaware of whether he was supposed to not mind if she left him with her friends or met her grandparents, and it appeared to be the latter as she let go of Adriane's hand to take his and pull him over to be introduced to Marcello and Carmela Solara.

The grandparents of Melina were just as friendly as the rest of the family; they greeted him with hugs and comments on his good looks, declaring their interest in meeting him as the villa had always been there yet never lived in by the true owners. It seemed that, like Leonardo, Marcello and Carmela held just as much love for the small town as their son did, and they were happy that they were able to share the incredible place and scenery around with someone outside him. 

He found himself standing quietly once again whilst Melina talked to her grandparents, the promise of delivering some fruit from their orchards at some point in the week interrupted by the church's bell ringing to mark the hour and thus, almost the beginning of the service. 

"Show Regulus to the family's pew, Bambina." Leonardo instructed and Melina nodded. "I'll meet you inside."

"Of course." She said and turned towards her grandparents. "See you later." She smiled, before beckoning Regulus forward and the two of them passed through the old, heavy wooden doors that reminded Regulus of the entrance to the Great Hall, although the inside, as grand as it might appear, didn't compare in size.

That being said, however, he couldn't quite say he preferred the Great Hall to the church. Regulus was by no means familiar with religion or what it really meant, but he believed he could admire it much the same. Like the exterior, the interior held the primary colour of a warm beige, the floor worn wood newly shiny with lacquer and marred with signs of age; scratches and uneven edges to planks, and the same translated to the old wooden pews that lined the rectangular room on each side, cramped and hardly spacious. 

Old, votive frescoes decorated the plain walls, alcoves with statues and other ornaments and beautifully created stained glass windows depicted various scenes from the Bible and images of history, including  Saint Francis of Assisi and Catherine of Siena, whom Regulus found out Melina quite liked, despite her digression from faith. 

At the head of the church lay a depiction of Christ against the stone wall, hanging in a gold frame on the stone. Above that was a crucifix in a similar gold, and directly below was the altar behind which the priest would stand. Melina pointed him out too, although Regulus believed he may have been able to find him himself; the man was wearing cream vestments decorated in aurulent patterns and was easily distinguishable from the members of the community who sat in the front-most pews, who were stood outside of their seats and greeting him with friendly enthusiasm. 

 As they walked down the central aisle, Regulus found himself recognising many of the people they passed; Melina's friends had joined their families as they took their seats for that morning and the girl, who was pulling down the hem of her skirt for fear of it being on the extreme side of short, smiled as she noticed.

"They like you. All of them like you." Melina hummed, her gaze on the small plaques that were attached to each pew they passed. "So don't worry about it." She added.

"I..." Regulus didn't know if he wanted to lie or not. "I'm not." 

"Good. You shouldn't." Melina nodded. "Here." She pointed out the second-to-front pew, which had the label 'NERO' across the centre. "This is where you and your mother can sit. There's a hymn book here, they're all numbered and the ones for this morning are written on that board over there and... here." She handed him a slip of paper. "When everyone else speaks, say this. You can read it, right?"

"Yeah, yeah." He confirmed, folding it back up and placing it on the cover of the hymn book. "Thank you." He added, before seeing Leonardo sitting amongst the unmarked pews and he frowned and looked back at her. "Do you not have a pew?"

"No, no, we don't need a pew." She reassured him, although she was sure that she and her mother would, at least, end up amongst the overflow guests in the back, and would have to become accustomed to arriving and finding seats quicker than many others would. Melina took a step back as her mother and Walburga approached and the new additions to the town, who were almost celebrities for merely their arrival alone, took their seat in the family pew. 

Everyone began to settle, although there was a low murmur of cheerful chatter that ran amongst them. Regulus remained silent, making a note of each of the hymns that had been marked for that service, his aim to ensure that they appeared to fit seamlessly into the crowd, as though they had indeed attended church before and simply weren't there so it looked like they were people that would usually be deemed unnatural for them to exist. 

Out of curiosity, he turned in his seat, scanning the pews behind him in an attempt to see where Melina and Odette had ended up; there were more people in the town during the modern day than the church could accommodate and it was evident as he tried to find her. But she wasn't amongst the unlabelled pews as he imagined, and instead stood beside her mother at the back of the crowds. 

She caught his eye and offered a smile, the quirk of her eyebrows and wave of her hands showing off the small area they had claimed, sarcasm he had caught the previous night shining through. He shook his head, not really able to stop himself from returning a grin. It was broken though, by the realisation that he and Walburga were only taking up a fraction of their own seat and his smile was quickly followed up by a jerk of his head, inviting her to sit beside him.

Melina shook her head and continued to do so as Regulus continued to beckon her to join them. It became clear that he wasn't going to take no for an answer and she turned to her mother. In a moment of protest from Odette too, they were making their way down the aisle. 

It was at that point that Walburga noticed. "Regulus, what in Salazar's name are you doing?" She hissed, attempting to allow herself to continue to sit tall with perfect poise, as though she hadn't developed a sudden disliking for the actions of her son. 

"I'm showing consideration to our hosts, Mother." He replied, standing up and allowing Odette and Melina to take a seat in their usual pew, which they had taken over for however long Walburga intended to keep them there. "I didn't intend for either of you to be left without seats." He added, as polite as he would be to the many purebloods his mother had forced him to interact with over the years.

"Nonsense, we would have been able to enjoy the service from a new point of view." Odette waved him away with a smile, intent on appearing polite towards who was newly considered her boss. "But thank you, nonetheless."

"You didn't have to do that." Melina didn't seem to be as concerned with showing her gratitude. "We do have the ability to stand, you know."

"I know," Regulus replied, jaw set and flickering back to the usual seriousness he was comfortable with. "I just... wanted to show my appreciation for your thorough introductions." 

"You sound..." Melina's eyebrows furrowed and she looked directly at him. "Do you read?"

"Tremendous amounts," Regulus replied in a hum. "I thought my claim to not becoming dangerous if you looked away accounted for that."

"I..." She trailed off again, remembering their first proper conversation. "You read." She repeated, facing forward as the priest entered the church properly, and the congregation rose.

There was almost a gratified note to her expression.

✧

Regulus didn't see her for much of that day. After the service came the return of the many conversations shared between the people of Verica, and Melina had spent a little more time introducing him to more people of the town before he found that he was standing next to his mother and the sight of a crowd of teenagers leaving the gates of the grounds and the sound of laughter could be heard amongst bicycle bells and the crunch of gravel. 

She hadn't been seen since then, and neither had many of the others he had been introduced to, and Regulus assumed they had taken the events of the previous night and translated them into something they could do during the day. 

He had spent the day walking around the grounds of the villa. Regulus most certainly hadn't required the company of other people to entertain himself, and he hadn't for many years and so, whilst his mother busied herself with affairs he never would understand, he was happily alone and hours passed as he discovered the hidden sights that he had only heard in passing. 

There was a pool, he found, which was almost like an old ornate trough, filled up through a spout of running water shaped like the face of an old emperor or god. The orchard, the stream, the greenhouses and the gazebo, a garden of roses and a number of benches lining paths. He ended up on the edge of what he suspected to be the land of the villa. He had read; a book or so and the scrawl of his name in his father's handwriting upon the front of a sealed envelope, it and the letter enclosed serving as his bookmark since he had received it and not opened it yet. 

He had sat for dinner, sat in the living room and played piano when his mother requested it - she preferred to show off her children's talents rather than come up with any of her own - and he had walked her upstairs when asked. It was still warm and he sat for some time with the windows open, finger grazing over the pages of his book yet not quite taking them in, focus elsewhere. 

He was wonderful in solitude; he thrived within it, perhaps. Yet he hadn't seen enough of the country he had newly arrived in, and an inkling of jealousy settled in his fingertips as he wondered if he could have seen more should Melina have invited him. But he didn't know her well enough, and her friends didn't know him well enough and all he really knew was the she had been living in his new bedroom and the room still smelt a little of the draft of her perfume he had gotten when sitting next to her in the church.

It was dark when she came back. The villa was quiet; Walburga had gone to bed long ago and Leonardo and Odette had done the same, needing to be up early to provide breakfast and other such amenities his mother expected. He was the only one still awake, he believed, and sat on the doorstep of the house with the door closed behind him, cigarette hanging from his fingers and the book he had been reading as the sun came down discarded by his feet. 

His eyes had been turned upwards, gaze on the stars above them. That reminded him of Hogwarts. In London, it had been too polluted to see the stars and up in the Scottish Highlands, they were brighter than anywhere he had ever seen. But in Italy, they seemed even more incredible and Regulus wasn't quite sure when he had begun to look at them.

He did know, however, that his attention was forced away by the sound of crunching gravel below a bike tire and his eyes landed on the figure of Melina Solara perched upon her bike and slowly coming to a stop. She wobbled only slightly as she disembarked, but it became evident she wasn't entirely sober as she walked forward and wheeled her bike over to the old stables - which he found was converted into the garage to keep their car.  

"Hi." He said and she jumped out of her skin, almost dropping her bike when she saw him. "Sorry." He added as she managed to lean it against the wall and haphazardly make her way towards him. "How can you see in the light? The lamp on your bicycle is almost dead." 

"Instinct," Melina replied. "I've done it way too many times." Her words were dragged as she came to a stumbling stop beside him, confirming his hypothesis that she was, indeed, a little drunk. "Why are you sat out here? It's... dark and shit."

"Smoking." He gestured to the cigarette and held it out. "You already smell like smoke so I expect-" She took the smoke and took a drag, sighing as she blew it out, effectively interrupting him as the voice dyed in his throat. 

"'m sorry for abandoning you." She said. "Y'know, at the church. I just... Antonio made plans and I didn't want to miss out again. But, I'll have you know... you're invited next time."

"What?"

"Well they liked you when they met you..." Melina took another drag before she reached out for his hand, skin warm as she slid the roll of paper between his fingers. "And if they like you then they invite you."

"And what do you do on these outings?" He asked, finding the seriousness of his usual appearance slipping at her actions. Many of the other girls he had spent time with were Slytherins and purebloods, which combined created an expected reservation and politeness that were similar to a couple of centuries before. Melina held none of the same expectations or behaviours. 

"Depends. We can find a field, or go to the lake... or we go into town to the park or the club or somewhere else." She leant against the arch of stone that covered the door, legs kicking out in front of her. In the dim light of the lamp above them, he could see the shadow of scratches and bruises across them, which seemed directly related to her choice of activities. "It's fun, I swear. Someone usually picks where to go and we just go with them." 

"Oh, right." Regulus nodded as he listened to her, watching as her eyes turned upwards to the stars like his had been, actions loose as she scanned over them, yawn stifled by her hand. He stacked his book against the side of the door, cardboard package of cigarettes and lighter on top. Then, he stood and turned towards her holding out his hand. 

"What?" Melina blinked. His eyebrows raised. "Oh, thanks." She chuckled self-consciously as she was pulled to her feet and before she could steady herself she stumbled, ankles twisting beneath her. "Thank you." She repeated, hand closing around his arm tighter. "Thank... you." 

"And thats the third time." He murmured, not loud enough for her to hear and instead began to lead her towards the house across the yard. "Is the door locked? Or do you have keys?"

"They leave it unlocked now." Melina was leaning on him, her shoulder pressed against his forearm and her hand holding close to his wrist, where the old heirloom watch had been sat for the past year. "It's happened... too many times."

"They're used to it, huh?"

"Used to it... accepting of it... just happy 'm home safe." She replied, gravel crunching unceremoniously loud beneath their feet. It just seemed enhanced by the true silence of the countryside around them, which was filled by the chirp of crickets and other tiny inhabitants of the nights. "Just happy." 

"Yeah?" Regulus watched as she nodded, and they reached the front door. "Are you able to get to your room fine?" 

"Mhm." Melina pushed the handle down, finally letting go of his arm and putting her whole weight on the door as she opened it. "See... magic."

"Magic." He repeated her words yet again, and watched as she turned back and pressed a kiss to to his shoulder as opposed to anything else, which he supposed was only because it didn't require her to put in too much effort, but she wanted to show her gratitude either way.

The door closed behind her and she disappeared into the dark, leaving Regulus to cross the courtyard alone, collecting his belongings from the doorsteps and retreating to his own room, feeling as out of place as he had upon originally arriving. Who knew? Perhaps she would stumble her way into the library she called refuge when she came back from a drunken night, or somewhere else in the house he didn't really feel like he owned, that he was only staying in; that really belonged to the family that looked after it. 

His mind was a mess, his thoughts a scramble, a confusion between whether he wanted to be there or not, whether he was overwhelmed by the mess of losing his father and being transported out of the country and house he had grown up with to hide from people he had known his entire life and finding himself in a new country with a girl and her friends who were people he never thought he would be surrounded by. 

It was a lot. And it was too much. And all of a sudden, Regulus had no idea what he was doing in Italy, but he thought he might just be able to enjoy it.

. . .

── MORNING MASS