Summary: SLASH (maybe) How could the Master of Death not be attracted to the Dying Will Flames?
Disclaimer: unless they're paying me for this I still own nothing…
Warnings: death mockery, swearing, violence, all that fun stuff
Ambrogio Inglese: simply explained Ambrogio means Immortal and Inglese was given to those who were originally from English origin.
"Ah grazie, bella Donna," Ambrogio exclaimed with a wink at the waitress who laughed with a pleased blush.
"Signore Inglese," she giggled and hit his arm playfully. "Enjoy your meal now and let me know if you need anything." And with a wink the girl left. This had been their routine since Ambrogio had found this little gem of a restaurant. Every week he would come here to eat and sample the wine, letting himself relax after a long week in the practice. It was his known hide-out now. The moment his practice was closed Ambrogio could be found in Piccolo Giglio and he was welcomed into the place like he was family.
As he dug into his pasta and savoured his wine Ambrogio observed the usual stream of customers who were enjoying their evening until the distraught daughter of the local lord burst through the doors. "Signore Inglese! Where is Signore Inglese?" she called out.
"What is it, Signorina? What happened?" Ambrogio said, rising from his seat as she turned towards him. Her usually tanned face was ashen grey, her wide blue eyes glassy with tears. She was shaking, her bottom lip trembling as she fluttered with her hands. "I-it's Shamal," she stuttered and before she could explain the full situation the elderly doctor was out of the restaurant, the girl hot on his heels.
As the doctor knew where to go he wasn't held up by the winded girl and proved just how fit he still was. Reaching the mansion and slipping past the bodyguards before anyone even noticed his presence Ambrogio quickly focused on the dwindling presence that he knew was the young Shamal. "Medico!" came a cry from across the hall and the elderly doctor skidded to a halt on the carpet. There he was, the head butler waving at him from across the hall where Ambrogio could feel his patient.
"Status," the doctor called out to the man as he ran across the hall and into the room. He slowed to a full stop and donned his reading glasses when he was given a status report on the poor boy. The kid was a walking disaster when it came to deceases as his immune system was practically non-existent. Shamal's medical history was impressive – this year alone Ambrogio had been called to his side at least eleven times. Fortunately this time it was a minor case of flu paired with pneumonia – or that's what it looked like at first glance.
It's like something's flickering in and out of him, Ambrogio thought as he worked his way carefully across the boy's body checking his blood pressure and temperature while watching out for irregularities. Rummaging in his coat pockets he quickly gave the boy a shot of his favourite family remedy. He watched it take effect with grim satisfaction before pushing in the warmth he could feel burning away inside his hands.
The kid coughed and opened one bleary eye before squeezing it shut again. "You again… old man," Shamal huffed as he weakly pushed his cold, sweaty hands against Ambrogio's warm ones. "Told you last time… don't care for male hands."
Ambrogio snorted and rolled his eyes at the kid. "Then you shouldn't get sick or you should learn to beat your own failing system. Now go back to sleep." And with a lot of huffing the child under his care finally fell asleep again.
The doctor worked silently, his patient sleeping relatively peacefully. Ambrogio groaned when he noticed just how prone the boy had become in the past month. "Really Shamal, you should take better care. I'm drawing enough attention as it is." He huffed a little as he gave his patient another shot of family medicine and watched it take effect almost instantly when pushed along with the heat he carried inside of him.
It hadn't taken long to develop this particular ability, especially after showing such instincts during his medical studies. This ability to work in harmony with his family recipes, to help spread the medication and let it do its work at a much faster rate than anyone had ever seen before. Not even the Magical World – the world he had left behind after eight years of service to them – had ever heard of such 'magical' means of spreading healing based potions. So stuck in the belief that something could temper with high potent potions if an outside source was used to speed up their process. Then again they would have imprisoned him long ago if they knew that Ambrogio had been using potions on Muggles. God forbid they would use their cures on those beneath them. Sure some potions refused to work for mundane people as they didn't have the necessary magical resistance that came with some of the side effects. Pepper Up, for example, created an enormous amount of steam inside the body – steam that with magic could be guided out through the ears. But for mundane people who did not possess such a magical stream would need a different outlet or their lungs could explode from the steam build-up it would try to regulate.
During his examination period in Spain Ambrogio had angered quite a few families – of who all seemed related to the Galician mafia – especially when it came to light that his experiments were favoured by the boss of one of the more prominent families. It's why his exam took about a year after which he quickly fled across the Mediterranean to Morocco. Spit out of several countries he had built a reputation of being a reliable doctor with Death hanging over his shoulder because of the medication he used. This was probably why he had been called to Italy by Shamal's family. They didn't care much about his technique's as long as he kept their boy from being on the verge of Death. Because a man who could spread Death could stop it as well.
Ambrogio rubbed his face tiredly as he finally leaned back in the chair. Really, this kid was too much trouble. Maybe he should just cut his losses and run. But could he really do something like that? Leave a child with so much potential to the fates as he struggled to overcome illness after illness with no one competent to save his sorry hide? He hadn't been lying to Shamal when he had told the kid to find his own cures. If the boy could save his own hide in the future it would prevent a lot of trouble, not only for Shamal but for future doctor's as well.
Absently grumbling about the fact that he could lose his source of income if he continued giving out advise like that, Ambrogio stole one last glance at the boy resting on the bed before popping his legs up on the bed as well. He might as well rest his eyes for a while, the kid shouldn't be waking for at least two hours if he was lucky.
The brat was really asking for it. Ambrogio really had to stay calm while Shamal complained all the way down to the dining hall, shooting flirtatious winks at the female servants in between. The elderly doctor sighed and gave the kid a not so soothing slap around the head. "You should spend more time practicing not getting ill than improving your flirtatious behaviour. If you continue like this you will only get into more trouble."
"What's the point of it anyway," Shamal whined. "If I get sick or injured I'll just have you or some other doctor to patch me up again. Besides girls-" but he cut off with a hiss of pain when Ambrogio thumbed him on the head not too lightly.
"You had better start loving your body as you do those girls or you will die before the end of this year," the doctor growled ominously. His blue eyes sparkled as they bored into startled brown. The hallway darkened around them and a cold breeze ruffled the doctor's brown hairs making him look more mysterious than he already was. When he straightened the spell seemed to break and the doctor huffed a little. "It seems I'm no longer needed here. Good luck kid. I'll be unavailable if you need me." And with that Ambrogio made his way towards the exit.
"W-what!" Shamal cried from behind his retreating figure. "B-but you're a doctor." But as he ran to catch up, frosted blue eyes made him stop in his tracks. "I will not treat those who disrespect themselves." And with that the man was gone.
He didn't meant to be so harsh on the boy – Shamal didn't know any better after all – and it went against his very nature to leave such a fragile child behind. But Ambrogio knew that he would have to leave at some point and this small break in their 'relationship' would certainly gain some ire with the family. So he didn't mind leaving his cosy life in Italy behind for the more harsh environment that were the deserts of Arabia. But some things just needed to be done if he wanted to stay invisible from every radar that he could think of. Because even if he left the Magical World, Ambrogio had gained quite the reputation in the crime syndicate of the mundane world.
So Ambrogio locked his doors and windows, packed his bags and carefully removed his disguise. Removing the wig revealed wild, raven locks. He carefully undid the charm that made the prosthetics stick to his face and removed the colour contacts that caused his eyes to turn blue instead of their vibrant green. Treating his face with facial cream to get rid of any irritations the prosthetics may have cause Ambrogio released a weary sigh. He still looked like an eighteen-year-old despite nearing the twenty-three years.
Scratching the Deathly Hallows mark on his neck absentmindedly he wondered if he could ever rid himself of this apparent curse. Until then he would travel the world as a doctor and try to curb his sense for trouble. Not that he was actively seeking it of course.
Because Harry Potter didn't go looking for trouble, it just seemed to find him…
A/N: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, I did it again. Sorry, I just really got into watching Katekyo Hitman Reborn. Combine that with reading the manga and fanfiction and you get plot bunny's popping up all over the place. Anyway, next chapter will be longer.