When in Rome

Author's Notes- Beta'd by Fictionalley's Alexa Black and Livejournal user fcmwt_r_do

Yes, this chapter is short! I know and I apologise! For some reason I have difficulty spinning off long chapters when I am writing post-Hogwarts. Call it setting the scene. The next updates should be longer!

Please review! All comments and criticisms welcome!

When in Rome--Chapter 1

He was running late. Kai is going to kill me if I miss this flight! Harry worried as he frantically tried to find his way around the packed airport, searching desperately for his friends. Scanning the check-in queues, all he could see were over-excited school-aged kids being herded by weary teachers. They were obviously on some form of school trip abroad.

Stopping, Harry realised that they must be from a boarding school as they were apparently sorted into house groups. He sensed their group rivalry as they rushed over to the desk, fumbling for their passports, evidently wanting their house to be the first to check in. They seemed severely disappointed when a man with fairly long blond hair beat them to it.

The school children settled into what was supposed to resemble a line and bickered amongst themselves, waiting impatiently. Memories hurled themselves to the front of Harry's mind from the dark corners in which he had tried to contain them. Leaning on the handle of his suitcase for support, his eyes slipped out of focus.

"Hey, Matthews! Just 'cause your Daddy bought you a place on your house team doesn't mean you are so important that you can push past me!" a tall, auburn-haired girl yelled towards a smaller girl with dirty-blonde ringlets and a haughty expression.

The scene blurred. The girls contorted and morphed before Harry's eyes into boys; one becoming noticeably more ginger and freckled, the other a striking white-blond.

"Hey, Malfoy! Just 'cause your Daddy bought your way onto the Slytherin team, doesn't give you the right to take our practice slot!"

The real-world regained some clarity as a tall teacher leered over the two girls, silencing them with a death-glare that could have rivalled....

Severus Snape towered over Ron and Harry during one of their many falling-outs. He glared at each of them and, sneering vindictively, docked Gryffindor twenty house points each.

As this attack on his mind continued, all the images he had tried to put behind him returned with vengeance. Admittedly, he still had frequent nightmares and flashbacks of the more horrific events of his past, but now memories came to him unbidden of happy times, of everyday Hogwarts lifeEHe

. As he lost himself deeper and deeper inside his own mind, he lost control of his magic. The results were nothing like the disastrous displays of power from his youth, as he had long since learned to control the effects of his wild magic on his surroundings, even when his command of his magic slipped.

Instead the damage was more internal; pulses of invisible magic probed the surroundings. He could sense all magic within the confines of the airport, whether they be new or ancient. This information clouded his brain as he subconsciously scanned for any hint of danger. This skill, which he had struggled to master to aid his survival in the war, now came as a reflex to his momentary lapse of concentration. It wasn't until he felt a familiar sensation tingling around his aura that his thoughts returned and his magic was re-confined.

Swaying slightly, Harry racked his brain trying to place where he had felt that sensation before. It was the signature magic of someone fairly powerful, someone he had once met--even known! He just couldn't place it. All of his carefully sculpted pretence of ignoring the magical world was forgotten in that instant, until someone crept up behind him and covered his eyes with their hands.

Harry tensed, ducked to free himself from the grasp then pivoted round, defensively. Wandless charms and hexes swam around in his head as he did so--just in case. He was just about to shoot out an Expelliarmus when he recognised his 'attacker'. Dark brown hair, blue-grey eyes and a perfect smile--Elise.

"Woah! Jumpy much?" she said in her French-laced accent with a musical laugh. "Sorry, mon Coeur! You just looked so out of it, I couldn't resist."

She flicked her hair elegantly before standing on tiptoe and kissing Harry on both cheeks. It wasn't the first time she had reminded him of a certain golden-haired, part Veela despite their different, yet equally disarming, good looks. However, for a second Elise was gone and Fleur Delacour stood beaming up at him.

Harry shook his head to clear the hallucination. Years had passed without anything more significant than the daily, to-be-expected nightmares. And yet here Harry stood, practically a Muggle, being reminded of his magic left, right and centre, not to mention actually performing his first -- albeit involuntary -- magic since slaying Voldemort. Elise grasped his hand and led him, and his suitcase, away from the still checking in school kids. He only half-listened as Elise, oblivious to his disorientation, began to chat to him happily.

"The guys are already here. We were hoping you'd be on time for once...but why break a habit of a lifetime? What was it this time? Bus break down? Chased by a pack of ravenous wolves? Found a lost child and had to comfort it and find its mama? Met a cute guy? Oh! I bet that's it! Come on, 'fess up!"

Elise was renowned for babbling, and her mother tongue only gave her the ability to speak much quicker. Sometimes her rambling got a little annoying but right now, Harry was quite content to let her talk to herself while he mulled over the strange events of the day. By the time they had checked Harry in and caught up with Kai, Elise had pretty much conceived a whole make-believe elicit affair for Harry, which was obviously the cause for his tardiness. She seemed to find having a fairly low-key gay friend terribly romantic and, when Harry's lack of a love life failed to give her the juicy tales of star-crossed lovers in a homophobic society that she craved for, she regularly invented her own.

Kai sat lolled on a sofa in the departure lounge, checking that all the documentation for the trip was as it should be -- with an air of concentration Hermione Granger would be proud of -- or so Harry's current mind-state believed. However, when he lifted his head of sandy brown locks and greeted Harry with his friendly Irish lilt, all comparisons to Hermione were replaced.

"Hey, Sea-cough-Kai!" Harry stammered out. "Sorry I'm..."

"Late? Delayed?" he questioned playfully before hitting him with the paper work and adding, "A right royal pain in the arse? Not to mention predictable to boot!" He laughed at Harry's attempt at an indignant expression before continuing, "You remembered your passport, right?"

This time Harry managed a sincerely indignant expression due to the hint of concern that was evident in Kai's voice and expression.

The stage was set for one of their regular playful fights when Elise, running her fingers through her hair agitatedly, demanded that Kai 'quit playing with Harry' and told her where her precious boyfriend had gone. Kai's assurances that the elusive Stephan had only gone to get a drink seemed to calm her momentarily but then, without warning, she ran off squealing like a groupie and engulfed a tall man in a bone-crushing hug.

She led Stephan over without hurrying, giving Harry a chance to take in his appearance. He was tall, taller even than Harry who had finally reached a respectable 6'2". His build was rather stocky, apparently due to body building. His face was pretty unremarkable; his features weren't defined and his jaw looked weak. His eyes were a watery blue, his skin weathered, and his hair was mouse-brown with sun-kissed blond streaks in places. His expression seemed naturally hostile. Harry had become an excellent judge of character and reader of body language and, looking at Stephan, he noticed an air of self importance and an apparent need to search out power to compensate for his lack of it. His fairly muscular build was at complete odds with a face that would have better fit a weedy body -- like some big bravado. Harry disliked him immediately.

"So you must be Harry. The resident artist and novelist? You have quite the reputation! I must say I am quite impressed with some of your work, not bad at all," came a faux, upper-class accent with an unnaturally white smile.

Having finally learned to hide his feelings from his open-book of a face, Harry accepted Stephan's coolly extended hand with a smile of thanks. Elise had obviously decided that Harry had had Stephan's attention for far too long, as she tugged at Stephan's arm.

"So, honey, how come you were so long? I thought you were just getting a drink," she whined with a cute pout.

"Well you wouldn't believe the jerk in front of me in the queue! He was trying to pay in some weird foreign gold coins. I tell you, it's his sort that gives blondes their reputation! Plus, would you believe, he was completely up his own arse -- like some bloody wannabe aristocrat," he guffawed. The irony of Stephan's comments teamed with his own pompous attitude wasn't lost on Kai and Harry, who shared incredulous looks and had to stifle their giggles.

As it happened, they needn't have bothered; their grins soon slid from their faces as Stephan continued to rant dryly. He was almost as talkative as Elise, just lacked her lovable nature which made her easily bearable, even at her worse. Harry sank into a stupor as Stephan began to talk about his favourite topic -- himself. Despite the hustling and rushing around him, Harry found himself exiled once again in his own thoughts.

Various memories ebbed to and fro within his thoughts, no longer sparked off by what he was seeing but instead, by completely random influences. A moment of icy clarity hit him suddenly after what felt like hours. It was a feeling reminiscent of jumping into the lake during the Triwizard Tournament. Gasping for breath and shivering, Harry saw the world in perfect focus. Again he felt the same signature magic, only this time it was accompanied by a scent of peppermint, frosty winter mornings and expensive cologne. Placing the scent wasn't any easier than placing the magic, but something stirred in his memory that wasn't going to lay back down to rest.

Harry felt his arm being shaken. "Are you even listening to me?" Stephan's affronted tone had said before Kai swiftly cut across him.

"You okay, mate? God, you look like you've just seen a ghost!" A pale figure caught the corner of Harry's vision but when he turned to look, no one was there.

"A ghost...? I don't think so...human, I think...maybe...something I had forgotten," he mumbled nonsensically. As their flight number was called out Harry sluggishly followed the others to the plane. Before leaving the lounge, he cast a calculating look around him.

Kai's right, he decided. It was a ghost. A ghost of my past.

Harry James Evans, muggle student, author and artist, had entered Heathrow Airport to fly to Rome. He never made it. Harry James Potter, most powerful wizard in existence, boarded the flight to Rome in his place, with the heavy burden of knowing that his muggle exile was coming to a rapid end.