Who: Nicholas Hooke, Madeleine De Luca, and a boy named Rafael
What: First encounters of the family disowning you kind
Where: Italy!
When: Summer of 1977

Merlin, he was pleased as punch with his vacation thus far. He'd been in Italy about a week and he'd spent the majority of his days so far in the sun, tanning and enjoying the ... ahem, view. He'd met a few women on the resort, the least of which was no less than a maid who had come into his room to clean his drapes. Right. Right now, however, he was sitting on the porch of a rather ritzy (but Muggle) restaurant, sipping a glass of expensive white wine and pecking at the goat-cheese and steak salad he'd ordered about twenty minutes earlier.

The porch oversaw the street and was separated only by a short wrought-iron fence ... which was not altogether safe, Nicholas supposed, but at least it afforded him a nice view of the street traffic. Not that he expected to see anything altogether interesting, but it was worth watching just to see some of the horrid clothing that some of the muggles were wearing. Ugh.

“Rafael! Rafael, dove siete? Non giocherete all'esterno per una settimana---” Madeleine De Luca ran a nervous hand through her hair as her eyes swept up and down the street. She knew---she had known Rafael was going to be trouble, that is why she’d decided to be his partner on the trip instead of letting him pair up with another student. It had only been a minute, the woman with the carriage, she’d dropped everything and Rafael had actually picked up the baby’s toy and Madeliene was quite sure he was behaving like the good boy she thought he was and, “Rafael!”

If she lost this student, oh…Sig.ra Mancini would make sure she would be fired and she’d only been there for two years and she didn’t have---calm down, calma giù. Madeleine let out a shaky breath and pushed open the gates of the restaurant; Rafael had gone on and on about how he wanted to try the cake when they’d past it, and she had an inkling feeling he’d come back here.

“Scusilo?” her hand went out to try and catch one of the waiter’s attention, but they kept going past her without a second look. “Scusilo? Ah---” Madeleine bit her lip and tried to stop herself from tapping her foot nervously. She approached a man at a nearby table, maybe he’d seen the young boy? “Scusilo, signore? Un ragazzo piccolo con i capelli del blonde è entrato qui?”

Normally Nicholas would have been disgusted by the sight of children in a restaurant unattended, but the little blonde boy who had come in had been very polite about asking him in what he assumed was Italian if he could hide under his table. Now, he wasn't sure whether it was the wine or the general good mood that he'd been in, but he had allowed the boy to stow away under his table for some reason or another.

The moment that the pretty -- Merlin, no -- beautiful woman approached his table he was altogether grateful that he'd allowed the boy to hide underneath the cloth cover. He gave her his most charming smile and slid off his sunglasses to give her his full attention. Since she wasn't exactly speaking a language that he could understand, he needed to anyway. He was able to get the jist of what she was trying to say, at least. She was calling for a little boy, and he'd heard the word 'blonde' in there...

"Ah..." He paused a moment and then gave her a wink, leaning over to motion underneath the table as subtly as he could manage to. No need to have the boy bolt on them.

Madeleine’s eyes widened and she made to lift the sheet, but…no, Rafael would just laugh and think of it as a big joke, which was not the lesson he needed to learn. She tried to ignore the man’s wink in her direction (she got that enough at school, it was a hassle) and slipped into the seat across from him, making sure she didn’t kick Rafael (yes, she heard him giggle).

“Il mio nome è Madeleine De Luca,” there was a short gasp from under the table and she smiled winningly at the man. Rafael was going to have to suffer for a bit; it was better than her making a scene out of dragging him away, however. “Che cosa è il vostro nome? Mi sento che questo ristorante è stupefacente.”

When he had given the woman his best smile ... well, he hadn't thought about the fact that she was not speaking English. A pretty face tended to do that to him, after all. He heard her speaking and tried valiantly to keep the perplexed look off his face - okay, some of these words sounded a little like English, after all...

"...Sì. Il mi-o norme est Nicholas Hooke." His accent was atrocious, of course, but at least he was trying to sound confident in what he was saying, no matter how wrong some of the words that he had just used were. Nicholas understood that she probably did not want to drag the boy out of the restaurant, but he wondered how far the conversation would go along before he'd simply be staring dumbly at her.

Luckily, one of the waiters came over with his cheque a moment later and he was momentarily distracted with him - he waved the man off after ordering a bottle of sparkling ... grape juice. He wasn't stupid, he knew that she probably didn't want to be drinking around the child.

Madeleine’s slightly vengeful grin (oh, how embarrassed Rafael was going to be) quirked into an amused one at the man’s, Nicholas’ (ché nome piacevole, ed uomo---) mispronunciation of a very easy phrase. Ooh, he was not from here, what---she had to think, where was he from? She new a little Greek, some French, some English---Nicholas looked English, she was going to try…and…yes.

“You do not-ah speak the Italian?” she said in very choppy English, because all she knew it from was the movies she watched, and Madeleine blushed slightly; at least they were even in the embarrassing department, now.

Oh, he was utterly relieved when she made an attempt at English. He nodded eagerly and noted in the back of his mind that she was even more fetching when she blushed. When the bottle of sparkling juice came, he had the waiter pour some for her and motioned for her to take it, taking a sip of his own a moment later and giving a soft smile.

"I do not speak Italian, I'm afraid. I'm from ..." he waved a hand. "Well, I am living in London, in England, si?" He swirled his own glass and took another sip of it.

“Ooh, England? Sì, I have been there, only one, for school, un viaggio---un…un…fall? Un---trip! A trip.” Madeleine could hear the annoyed huffs from Rafael under the table, but she chose to ignore it for the moment. The boy wouldn’t dare dash away with her sitting right here, and as long as she had him in her she would not get in trouble, even if she would be scolded for letting him sit under the table. They were supposed to be visiting the museum a few blocks down, but they were to be there for another two hours; the others, they would not notice.

The grape juice arrived and she smiled, now only feeling a bit awkward (a bit, mólto). Did…was he expecting her to stay and have a drink with him? Oh. Oh. “Are---are you here per---a trip?”

Normally he would have asked her already if she wanted to visit again, on his family's money ... but since the young man was under the table, he hardly thought that it was appropriate. And if she was a muggle who didn't speak English ... Merlin, he could only imagine how badly that would go with his family. He scrubbed his hand over his jaw and then laughed a little, nodding.

"Yes, I'm here on ... we'll call it a little vacation. I can't say that I've met anyone as lovely as you here so far." Would she understand the compliment? He certainly hoped so, since they were his strong suit.

Madeleine was quite sure that ‘lovely’ was understood universally. Bella, oh, he thought she was—she blushed a bit and heard a snicker escape from under the table, and her foot involuntarily struck out and she hoped it was just Rafael’s side (she didn’t kick out that hard, she had some sort of control). The snickers stopped immediately, and this made her blush a bit more; what could she say to that.

“A shame, that,” she said, lowering her gaze. This would be so much easier if he wasn’t so handsome and could speak Italian. Madeleine wasn’t very experienced in the dating scene, but she could handle herself if the situation showed up, which…Dio, it seemed to be. Oh. “It is---if I could stay longer, I could---things, show you---very more lovely things in Italy.”

She was blushing again. That was a good sign, wasn't it? He was grinning (a bit like an idiot, perhaps) when she spoke again. He found that he didn't mind at all that she was stumbling over words, if only because he was more concerned with watching her lips move for the moment. He had heard the snickers from beneath the table and remembered that there was a child in their presence again, but ... well.

"Oh, well..." Nicholas trailed off, leaning forward over the table conspiratorally. "I'm not in any hurry to get back. I will be here for a while, so perhaps..." It seemed like an awkward thing to ask, but, "...you could show me around a little, si?" Which would involve him leaving his hotel number or something ridiculous like that - would she even call?

Since when was he worried about that?

“Oh…I would, ma--- se non trovo il mio allievo, sarò trasmesso per sempre in Siberia per gettare la neve.” Madeleine’s eyes rolled up to the sky, counting the seconds that Rafael would take to reveal himself. If she’d learnt anything about the boy, it was that he had a very guilty conscience, and she felt somewhat guilty for playing into that, but when the scuffle under the table was heard and his blonde head popped up from the side of the table, Madeleine was proud of her work.

“Sig.na! Sono di destra qui!” he exclaimed, looking frantic. Madeleine sent a surprised look Rafael’s way, and put a hand to her face. Second graders were so gullible, it was adorable.

“Rafael! Voi dovete essere magici, da dove siete venuto?” she said in a faux-shocked tone, sending a wink toward Nicholas, even though she was almost sure he wasn’t understanding her.

“Sotto la tabella! E dovreste uscire con l'uomo, lui siete molto piacevoli!” Madeleine’s blush deepened and she tilted her head toward Nicholas, a smile playing on her lips.

“He says you are very nice, that I should be to going out, with you, now that I is not being sent to Siberia.”

No, he had no idea what she was saying... but he did catch the word 'magic' from Madeleine. He watched the exchange with some amusement, glad to see that the boy was going to come out of his own will and that she would not have to drag him. When she told him what the boy had said, however, he was the one who flushed just a little bit.

"Ah, well. Then he is a very smart boy. Where is it that you two are going, so that I can escort you there? So that he will not run off again and leave you to your fate of Siberia." Not that he thought the boy was really going to run off again. Nicholas ran a hand through his hair and set some bills down onto the table - more than enough to cover the cheque - before he stood up, offering her his arm with a slight smile.

"Shall we? You may tell Rafael that if he is very good, I will show him some real magic very soon." No harm in it if the child simply thought it was a trick, after all.

Rafael, ever the jokester, attempted to pull out Madeleine’s chair and when she stood, pushed her toward Nicholas, making hurrying noises with clicks of his tongue.

“Smetta di essere difettoso,” she scolded lightly, but Rafael just grinned and latched onto her hand as Madeleine (Oh, Dio, Dio!) took Nicholas’ offered arm. She was used to public displays of affection (era italiana), but she did not know this man at all---oh, but---Dio. It was nice, though, and she smiled in a slightly silly manner to some sense of awkwardness off of the situation, but it was still there, even if it was the good kind of awkward and---she was mentally rambling. That. Was. Not. Good.

Okay.

“It is not much far, thank you!”

“Si, grazie!” Rafael quipped, and Madeleine wondered if the boy did know some English, which made…sense. Since he knew…oh. Oh, the teachers were in trouble, now.

The moment that she looked like she was falling, Nicholas surged forward to try and catch her. Of course, she managed to keep herself upright, but she took his arm after he offered it and Merlin, at least she was accepting. He wasn't sure where they were going, but he assumed that Rafael and Madeleine would know where they were going, so he didn't worry too much about it.

"It is of course no problem. And I will ... leave you my hotel room number and address so that you can come to take me on your wonderful tour, si?" Yes, he would use that as at least an excuse to see her again, because he was sure that when she got alone with him that things would go perfectly.

Madeleine bit her lip and nodded, looking up at Nicholas and not noticing that Rafael was dragging behind (she gave him a rough tug every now and then, involuntarily). Hmmhm. A handsome man who was good with children (so it appeared) who was very nice as well and wasn’t Italian. Not that she had anything against her Italian men, but it was different, and different was fun and exciting, si? Si, it was, and she didn’t mind that Rafael was humming some love song, because---a date or a tour, it was not love. Yet.

Oh, so silly, but she was very much the romantic, what with three older sisters (and an older brother, but he liked to kill her romantic dreams) who had many stories to tell and relate. Dio, she was getting ahead of herself, if only he wasn’t so handsome! His eyes, they made her stomach flutter.

“I will plan it for long time, make it sure you see everything.”

His eyes did tend to have that sort of an effect on women. He smiled rather dazzlingly when she spoke. If she was willing to put in that sort of effort for him, surely she liked him at least a little, right? Nicholas paid moderate attention to the young man they were dragging along behind them and gathered from the direction that they were probably either heading back to the boy's school or to some sort of ... field trip. Muggles had those, he knew, because they stayed in smaller schools than Hogwarts students did.

Nicholas spotted a feather on the ground not too far ahead of them - a pigeon's, no doubt, and probably not very clean, but it would do well enough - and picked it up, stooping over and stopping to sit on a nearby bench.

"Ah, both of you ... come and sit. I will show you something."

Rafael wasn’t no time in pulling himself out of Madeleine’s grasp (he did understand English, oh no--) and plopped happily onto a bench beside Nicholas, being awfully rude and reaching for the feather. Her hand was out immediately and swatted the boy’s hand away immediately, a slight glare crossing her eyes. You had to be strict with your students, or else they ran all over you---it was why her classroom was one of the best behaved, even though she was fairly new at the whole teaching thing. It was just the way her mother had raised her.

She sat on the other side of Rafael, to keep him within reach, and her eyes expectantly turned onto Nicholas, wondering what he was going to show them. Madeleine had to force herself not to scrunch her nose at the dirty pigeon feather however.

“Is it time for the magic?” she teased, and Rafael bounced a bit.

"It is certainly time for the magic. And in fact, I need you..." He looked to the young man and set the feather into his hands after the boy held them out, "...to hold this for me." It had taken him a little while during the time they were walking to manoever the wand into the sleeve of his jacket, but it was there now. He waved his hands dramatically over the feather - Merlin, he had to concentrate to get this right - before he transfigured it into a small white flower.

"You see? Magic." Conveniently, there had been a bunch of the flowers a half-block down ... he knew that he couldn't exactly draw too much questionable attention to himself.

“WOW! Come fate quello??? Sig.na, Sig.na! Avete visto? Avete visto?? È un fiore!” Rafael squeaked, holding up the flower quickly, but gently, amazingly, for Madeleine to get a closer look. But, she didn’t need one to realize how absolutely amazing his trick had been, it---it had looked like the feather had literally…transformed. What a trick—how did, Rafael would have had to have known what to do, si? There was…were there mirrors? Was he that quick with his hands?

“I--- vedo, Rafael, vedo,” her eyes finally pulled away from the flower and looked up at Nicholas, the astonished look on her face not wavering, “That—it---very---good magic,” she responded dumbly, feeling her face heat up.

Nicholas grinned. Oh, that was just the sort of reaction that he was hoping for, nothing that would cause shock or terror or anything like that ... but at least something that would warrant awe. Yes, he was just that good. Right. He delicately plucked a second feather up from the ground and transfigured that one, too, so that he could place it in Madeleine's hair with a bit of a wolfish smirk.

"Well, it takes a lot of practice, you see. And a very quick hand." He motioned to the flowers the half-block down and shook his head, hoping that this would convince them for the moment. "Now, where are we headed to so that I can make sure you two are not late?

“Stiamo andando al museo, volontà venite?” Rafael asked, jumping to his feet and tugging on Nicholas’ hand, looking at Madeleine as if she was nuts for remaining seated. She did feel a little crazy, after witnessing Nicholas do his trick again. Maybe he was a magician in England, and was here for a show; she had not heard of anything, though---oh, she was being silly. A quick hand, yes. “Dovreste venire, e potete mostrare ai miei amici il trucco!”

“Non richieda le cose,” she scolded quietly, standing, though. Rafael was ready to pull Nicholas through the streets to show him off to his friends, but Madeleine wasn’t about to let that happen. “He wants to be showing you off, we are to go the—museo—the museum of the children, the children’s! Children’s museum. It---“ oh, that was silly, he wouldn’t want to go, “it can be very smart. Inter—esting.”

Yes, a quick hand. He laughed quietly when the boy tugged on his hand, grateful that Madeleine was translating for him because he surely could not understand what the young man was trying to say. He wasn't sure that he wanted to be showing off his 'trick' to even more children than Rafael, but he couldn't very well say that out loud. It would bother the young man, wouldn't it?

Nicholas quirked a brow at Madeleine and allowed himself to be pulled slowly toward the museum, looking to the woman. "I would certainly not mind at least escorting you there. What sort of smart do you mean, Madeleine?" It rhymed, he noted with some amusement. Really, if he got to spend more time with her ... he didn't mind watching children's exhibits for a little while.