When in Rome

Author's Notes--Beta'd by Fictionalley user, Alexa Black.

As with my other novel length WIP, this fic won't be updated as regularly as I'd like due to a huge workload at the moment. I can, however, promise that it will not be abandoned!

I hope you enjoy it, please review!

Prologue

Harry had reached his saturation point. He had spent the first eleven years of his life -- what he could remember of them -- being neglected and abused; the following years of his life, he had been thrust into the limelight whilst he fought for his life. He finally learned how to love people, and what it feels like to be loved, only to lose people to a war he was supposed to be winning single-handedly. He blamed himself for every casualty; he grieved for everyone killed, all the time being heralded as 'the Boy Who Lived' and 'the Saviour of the Wizarding World'.

He had been just eighteen when he had committed mass-murder, killing not only Voldemort but also as many Death Eaters as he could track down. He had lived up to everybody's expectations, had saved their world, but that was the end for him. He didn't want to the recognition, to be looked on in awe and fear, or to be on the front page of international newspapers anymore. So Harry had chosen a self-imposed exile from the magical world.

Harry left everything he had grown to know and love behind. He left his friends and defended his decision to do so by reasoning that they would be better off without him, as the press dogged their every move when he was with them.

He spent a year as a recluse, moving from city to city without settling. He needed the time to come to terms with what had happened, to find himself again after learning to shut out everything. He had become so distant and unpredictable and he hated it. One minute he was crying, the next he felt like throwing things. He never laughed any more. A deep chasm of depression had claimed his soul, and it took him the best part of a year to reclaim enough of it so he could begin to live again.

He began in small stages; he decided to settle in Oxford and apply to the Muggle university there, majoring in Art and minoring in English. He found ways to express himself in these areas: got good grades, published his first novel, had several exhibitions of his artwork.

Successful in getting the academic side of his life together again, Harry began to try and socialise. He joined a small reading group; he tried out for -- and got -- a place on the university football team. He made friends.

Three years on from his 'exile', Harry was a different person. He missed Quidditch, his friends, Hogwarts; not a single day went by when he didn't think about the war but he squashed these thoughts down, locked them away and moved on. His nights were still plagued by nightmares of his past, but by day he was a well-loved, trusted and vibrant friend to many, enjoying each day to its fullest. He was never truly happy -- he hoped this would come with time -- but he at least began to live a normal life again, to some extent.

It was the summer between his second and third year at university and Harry had finally gained a group of friends he trusted enough to agree to join them on a holiday to Rome. Four of them would be going together: Harry, his closest friends Elise and Kai, along with Elise's current boyfriend Stephan, whom Harry had yet to meet. Kai was the academic type, strong and sensitive but sometimes unbearably intelligent. On the other hand, Elise was a spontaneous, life and soul of every party within a twelve mile radius kind of girl. The sharp contrasts in their personalities only brought out more and more sides to the still enigmatic Harry, helping him to heal without anyone even knowing it.

Harry was looking forwards to his fortnight away with them as he left his apartment, a small black suitcase and travel bag in tow, and set out to travel to the airport. Had he known the events that were to unfold, he may have thought differently.