Decided to cut nine where it is and start ten, this is what I have so far. Don't think I'll be doing much more tonight.
"May I take a look at your knife sir?" The strike team leader asked politely.
"Of course," Harry nodded, handing it over handle first.
"This is a very interesting knife," the team leader commented, "would you mind giving me your statement?"
"Not at all," Harry replied, starting to calm down a bit. "I was in my room and three men rushed in, I dueled the first a bit before he ended up going through the window. The second one grabbed me and I'm afraid that I had to cut him up, and the third one ran out the door."
"Thank you for your time sir," the team leader nodded, closing his book. "We may have to ask you a few questions later to clarify a few things after forensics gets their report in."
"Not a problem," Harry waved it off. "Mind if we go down stairs? I feel that it may be time to check out of this hotel."
"Not at all sir," the leader nodded. "But I'm afraid that I'll have to accompany you until I get authorization to let you go."
"I understand," Harry gave a short nod. "You do what you have to do."
The two of them walked down the hall towards the elevators and past the body of the driver that had been brought up and placed beside the others.
"Shame he had to die," Harry mumbled to himself after he noticed the body of the driver, "I was going to let him go."
Any response that the team leader may have made was cut off by the arrival of another man, "message from the Pratori."
"What is it?" The team leader asked calmly.
"He says that Black is free to go if this looks like it was self defense," what he had actually said was 'get him out of my city' but the messenger saw no need to annoy the wizard that had swatted Salvatore Carillo like a fly.
"I do," the team leader gave a quick nod. "You're free to go Mr. Black, may I ask where you're going next?"
"Switzerland sounds nice," Harry mused. "Wherever it is, I hope it's quieter than my vacation's been so far."
"Have a good day Mr. Black," the team leader watched in awe as the most dangerous man he had ever met calmly walked out of the building.
Harry resisted the urge to scream as he walked towards the entrance to Magical Rome, why did these things keep happening to him? Was there some sort of curse on the Potter line that nobody had told him about?
Sighing in frustration, he entered the magical section of Rome and paused in front of the small bar that he had previously visited. He really needed a drink right now, after that he could find a way to get to Switzerland.
"Good evening Mr. Black," the old man from before nodded and motioned towards an empty seat. "I trust that you're doing well?"
"I wish that were true," Harry shrugged. "Unfortunately, I've had a rather bad day."
"What happened?" The old man motioned for the bartender to bring over a drink.
"I was attacked by three men in my hotel room," Harry took a sip of the newly arrived drink. "And things got a little violent."
"You weren't hurt were you?"
"No," Harry shook his head. "Not a scratch."
"I see," the old man licked his lips nervously. "What do you intend to do about the situation?"
"The way I see things, it's best to forget the whole situation ever happened." Harry finished his drink and stood up, "and hope that nothing like this ever happens again."
"I'm sure that it won't Mr. Black," the relief on the old man's face was plainly visible. "Have a good day Mr. Black."
"Thank you," Harry tossed a few coins on the table. "It's only polite to let me pay this time, after all you paid the last time."
"Goodbye Mr. Black," the old man called out to Harry as he walked out the door. "And have a pleasant trip."
Harry spent several minutes walking around the alley before he found a small shop advertising that it had the cheapest international portkeys in Rome.
"Hello?" Harry called out as he entered the apparently deserted shop, "is anyone here?"
"What?" A head poked through a doorway that presumably led to a back room. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't expect you to arrive for another few minutes. You'll be wanting a portkey then?"
"Yes," Harry confirmed, "to Switzerland."
"Then I'll need to see your Passport," the man held out his hand. "After all, you'll be crossing a border."
"One moment," Harry dug around his pockets, and handed his papers over to the shopkeeper.
The man pulled out his wand and tapped the passport.
"If that's what you need," Harry took back his passport, "what did you mean when you said that you expected me . . ."
"Thank you, and here you are." The man interrupted Harry and handed over Harry's passport along with a key chain bearing the Swiss flag.
"Thank you," Harry accepted the two items. "How much do I owe you?"
"It has already been paid for by the Praefectus Pratori," the man smiled. "He had his men go to every travel shop in Rome and tell them that any international portkey you bought would be at his expense, and that he would pay double the list price if we were able to get you out within the hour."
"That was nice of him," Harry smiled. "Now about that question I wanted to ask."
"I'm afraid we won't have time for that Harry," the man gave an apologetic smile. "You see, I really wanted to get paid double, and to do that you portkey will have to leave right about . . . now."
Harry felt a pull behind his navel and the world began to spin.
"Welcome to Switzerland," a jolly looking man said with a smile. "May I see your papers please?"
"Sure," Harry handed over his passport and fought to wipe the look of annoyance off his face, damn shopkeeper.
"I trust that you've had a good day Mr." The customs agent glanced down at the passport, ". . . Black."
"It's been a bit rough, but I have high hopes that things will quiet down."
"I see," the customs agent seemed to be unable to pull his eyes away from the small document."
"Was there something you needed?" Harry asked, getting a bit worried about the man's odd behavior.
"No Sir," the customs agent answered quietly, "I just didn't expect that I would ever meet you. Just check in with magical law enforcement while you're here. They've got a few messages that they'd like to pass along and I also believe that some of them would like to chat with you over a beer if you have time."
"Thank you," Harry nodded, "do you have any suggestions on where I might find a good place to stay?"
"There is an information desk right outside," the customs agent motioned towards the door. "If you don't have anything else that you'd like to ask me."
"Have a good day," Harry nodded and walked towards the exit.
"You as well Mr. Black," the customs agent closed his line and waited until Mr. Black had walked through the exit, then he quickly walked towards his supervisor. "Mr. Black was just in my line."
"Did you tell him to get in contact with the Polizei?"
"Yes," the agent nodded. "He asked if there was anywhere that we wanted him to stay and I pointed him towards the information desk."
"Good job," the supervisor noted the time in his notebook. "Out of curiosity I have to ask, what was his first name?"
"Mr." The customs agent shrugged. "When I looked, that was the only thing in the section."
"I see," the supervisor spent a few minutes thinking. "Go wait in the break room, I've got to go report this."
"We've found out what happened to Mr. Black sir," the thug that had earlier offered to 'teach Mr. Black a lesson' told his boss, Alberto Nachelli nervously.
"Well?"
"Black was attacked by Giovanni Consiglio, Salvatore Carillo, and Consiglio's driver in his hotel room. Black Tossed Consiglio through a window, spilled Carillo's guts on the floor, and pushed the driver down a staircase." The man hesitated.
"Go on."
"The rest of this comes from my cousin Tony, the one who works in that bar the cops like ta go to." On seeing his boss's nod, the man continued. "They're saying that Black killed old man Consiglio and that he also staged the accident that wiped out Consiglio's men. One of them even swears that Black muttered something about how he was going to let Giovanni live and that it was a shame that he didn't get the hint and leave things alone. They also think that he was sitting in his hotel room, out in the open to see if anyone decided to come after him.
"Thank you," Alberto Nachelli nodded. "And remind me to thank your cousin for the information, it helped bring things into focus."
"How sir?"
"Black said something when he paid for my drink," the old man leaned back in his chair. "He said that he wasn't going to retaliate and that it was only fair that it 'was only fair that he paid for this one, since we paid for the last one.' I thought that he was talking about the drinks, but now I'm not so sure."
"What do you mean boss?"
"It now looks like something happened to bring us to Black's attention, so he killed Consiglio and several of his men and set out some new rules to make us pay for annoying him." The old man smiled, "for some reason he let Consiglio's son live, so when Consiglio's son tried to kill him, Black decided that it was his mistake and not ours."
"So when Black said that he would pay for this one?"
"He was talking about the attempt to kill him, and not the drinks."
"What is it?" The Praefectus Pratori called out, answering the knock on his door.
"Black's gone Sir," a man stuck his head in, "went to Switzerland."
"Thank you," the Praefectus Pratori's face broke into a grin. "With any luck he won't come back till after I'm retired."
"Yes sir," the man chuckled as he left the office.
"What was it you were going to say before we were interrupted?" The Praefectus Pratori turned back to the team leader that had been sent to help Black.
"I was going to tell you about Black's knife sir," the man paused. "It was very unusual and I thought that it would be best to tell you about it."
"Well?"
"It was a Roman style Pugio with a bone handle, the enchantments were rather old and done in the same way that the Romans commonly used, which leads me to believe that it's not a replica. The blade was made out of an odd bluish metal and it had a word inscribed on it."
"What word?"
"Atrum," the team leader swallowed nervously. "Which can be translated to Black according to what I remember from my Latin classes."
"You're not suggesting?"
"I'm not suggesting anything sir, I'm just reporting the facts as I have them."
As Harry walked the information desk with a plan began to form on how to spend his first day in Switzerland. He was going to get five pounds of Swiss chocolate, a large hotel room room, and then he was going to let fate decide what happened next.
"Good evening sir," the girl at the information desk smiled when she noticed him approach. "What can I do for you today?"
"I need a room," Harry smiled. "Preferably as large and luxurious as possible."
"One moment sir," the girl ducked behind her counter and came out with a pamphlet. "Here you are, large, luxurious, and in a convenient location as well."
"Thank you." Harry turned and walked away, happy that things were beginning to look up.
Behind him, the girl at the information desk smirked. She didn't know who had paid her to put a tracking spell on the pamphlet that she had given to the odd man, and she didn't care. After all, she couldn't live on her meager salary without . . . supplementing her income. She wouldn't have cared even if she had known of the source of the money, the amount they were offering to anyone that gave them a way to track the man with the unrecognizable face was just too high to pass up. Even if it did mean getting her hands a little dirty.
"I have some good news my Lord," said a man as he bent to kiss the robes of his disfigured master. "A freelancer in Switzerland has managed to plant a tracking charm on Black, and we can track him so long as he has it in his possession."
"Excellent," the dark figure hissed. "Send fifteen men to . . . make an example of him, the world needs to learn that the price of defying me."
"It shall be done my Lord," the pathetic man groveled and began to back out of the room.
"Would you prefer a room on one of the upper levels or on one of the lower levels sir?" The hotel receptionist asked Harry with a professional smile.
"I'd like a room as high as possible," Harry smiled. "With a balcony if you have it, I like to feel the wind in my hair."
"Of course sir, room 1003 on the tenth floor is available and I am happy to tell you that it has a rather large balcony." The clerk reached under the counter and pulled out a key. "Is there anything else we can do for you that would make your stay more pleasant?"
"If it wouldn't be too much trouble, would you mind sending some chocolate up to my room?" Harry asked sheepishly, "I've heard so much about it and I'm afraid that I never had a chance to try it before now."
"I'll have some sent up, and with luck it will arrive at your room about the same time you do." The clerk replied with a grin, "you would be surprised at how many people make that same request when they check in."
"Thank you," Harry smiled, taking his room key. "And have a good night."
"You as well Mr. Black," the clerk replied cheerfully.
Walking quickly towards one of the elevators, Harry had to resist the urge to shout in joy. He was finally starting the nice quiet vacation that he had planned on, from now on there would be no; death eater attacks, muggers with knives, Swiss Guardsmen asking him to check wards, crazy men bursting into his hotel room, or anything but peace and quiet.
"Tenth floor," Harry instructed the elevator operator.
"Yes sir."
Harry was bouncing with excitement by the time the elevator doors opened, "thank you and have a nice day." He called over his shoulder to the elevator operator as he rushed towards his room.
"Your chocolate sir," said a smiling young woman with a large tray from beside Harry's door, "would you like anything else?"
"No thank you," Harry shook his head. "Just put the chocolate on the bed and tell me what I owe you."
"Compliments of the management sir," the girl placed the tray on the bed. "We try to keep the customers in the luxury rooms happy."
"Thank you," Harry nodded, handing over a small roll of folded bills. "And have a good night."
"You as well sir," the girl gave one last smile and left the room.
Grabbing a piece of chocolate, Harry opened the door to the balcony and leaned on the rail. The wind in his hair, the lights of the city, could his life get any more perfect.
"Diaieeeeeeeee."
Harry watched in shock as several death eaters appeared in front of him and then plummeted to their deaths. After taking a suspicious sniff of the piece of chocolate that he had been eating, Harry leaned over the rail to look at the pile of broken death eaters littering the ground in front of the hotel. Wondering why these things always happened to him and resisting the urge to cry Harry turned around and walked sadly back into his hotel room, local law enforcement would be showing up soon and it might be a good idea to pack.