I know my name now!

"My sweetheart! Does it hurt anywhere darling?" My mom gushed as she grabbed me with inhuman strength and dragged me on her lap.

I couldn't have been more than five or six years old, and when she grabbed me and placed me on her lap, I could not escape her clutches.

"Stop resisting young man. Your mother refuses to let go until she makes sure you are alright." A man said in his deep and clear voice as he ruffled my hair.

He was, I noticed, speaking in Italian as well, but accented with British pronounciation. He was a man clearly Caucasian, tall but built like a brick, square jawed with a cleft chin. He clearly was rich, if his bespoke suit was any indication. He had a pair of leather glows in hand, which looked like a different kind of leather, than what I am used to. It was either an alligator hide or something magical in nature.

He was resting his hand gently on my head, but he could squish my head like a melon if his calloused grip was any indication.

I saw his face, which had exasperation and resignation written all over it, as if to silently advise, "Just bear with it. It will all be over soon."

I sighed, to which my mother took offence and pull my springy nubile cheek wide apart. "Young men don't sigh."

I rested in her arms, with my back against my mother's front, her head buried in the crook of my shoulder and neck, and her hands clutching tightly at my stomach.

I was unharmed except for the blistering skin on my right forearm, which had turned pink and healing. It looked like it would heal in a minute or two more.

My father came and explained in detail, after my mother scolded me for running off after dinner to pet the Ashwinders.

Even before me arriving here, I was a reptilophile, and loved to play with the little snakes and lizards in the Open air Terrariums behind the Bicorn stables in our house.

It appears we are opulently rich, and have an entire creature farm in the backyard, surrounded by woods where I ran off to play.

And apparently my mother is Venetian and a noble, as her accent suggested, while my father spoke with Received Pronunciation rather than the Cockney or rough British accent.

It seems, at first glance, we belong to the upper echelon of the society. As I saw my mother's ID card in her purse, she is Violetta Aethelred nee Cornaro. And apparently, we are inherited peers of United Kingdom, since my father's coat had a herald sewn on the arms and on the chest.

I haven't the slightest, about the nobility and the rules and traditions of British Peerage. But if there is a coat of arms, then surely the family is inherited nobles instead of a conferred title.

With a final approval from the Head Healer at St. Mungo's himself, due to my parent's prominence in the society, I was given the green light to be discharged.

I was swiftly brought to the Floo Fireplace to return home, by my mother holding my hand all the way.

We arrived in the large room which could have been a Ball room, and saw a slew of servants, Butlers and maids lining along the entrance, waiting for us.

It seems we have about twenty three people staffed who could be seen here. But surely, there are bound to be more, which leads to a more difficult question. If the place needs so many staffed people, how big is this place?

My mother brought me to the center of the drawing room, while a maid and a butler took the coats from them. My father told me he needs to go to work, but he would hurry straight back, if we needed anything.

I had a bit of a problem accommodating to the opulent residence, but apparently, I had a personal maid, who took me to take a bath and freshen up.

My mother would be in the art room waiting for me, and apparently, due to the incident, I was grounded for a week from Bicorn racing with the groundskeeper. That sentence threw me off, as soon as it left my mother's lips.

Bicorns are supposed to be dangerous and wild, and doubly so around intruders. They are territorial as far as the lores go, and the notion of racing with Bicorns seemed quite contradictory to my idea of a Bicorn.

Well, we could cross that bridge when we get there. For now, I was relieved mother was not finding anything odd about me.

My Italian was as fluent as a Venetian could speak, and my RP English was without a blemish. My gift of languages offered not only for languages themselves, but also to every dialect. Thankfully, I could simply think the dialect and language in my mind, and within an instant my brain oriented itself to speak the language I desired.

Therefore, I was very excited to talk to other creatures and see them baffled, when I spoke their tongue. A confused Nundu would make a memory worthy of Patronus.

I was cleansed, clothed and delivered to my mother, who made me sit in front of her, till the doors to the room were closed. After that, my mother squealed "Kyaa" and manhandled me while placing me on her lap, kissing my soft cheeks and softly carressing my hair.

I saw her blue eyes misty and focused on me, as she cuddled me in her arms.

"Oh my sweetling, what would I have done, if something happened to you? You are my only son. My treasure. And you nearly died yesterday. You scared your poor mommy, and you should be punished for scaring me like that okay? Mommy doesn't want you to get hurt."

Saying that, she nibbled my earlobes softly, and started to tickle me. It seems she knew all my weaknesses, as she turned me into a laughing puddle of glee and mild resentment.

"Stop mommy! Stop"

She laughed and tickled me till we were both huffing and gasping for breaths.

I looked at mother and said, "I want to learn about magic mother. Not just the weak primer other purebloods are offered, but a strong foundation in it."

My mother looked at me in shock. "What brought this on sweety?"

I looked at her in seriousness, and answered squarely. "I was afraid last night, of everything that happened, of everything that could have happened. I don't want to be afraid anymore. I want to be strong enough so that I don't scare you like that again."

My memories and experiences allowed me to manipulate her emotionally to get what I want.

When she looked back equally stern and nodded, I smiled inwardly. We are cooking with gas now!