Venice had always claimed to be the birthplace of clam spaghetti. Locals declared that clam spaghetti had existed ever since Marco Polo brought noodles back from China.
Even though the glory of the Republic of Venice was long gone, the fish market by the Rialto Bridge remained one of the best seafood markets in the world. Every morning, the freshest catches from the Adriatic Sea arrived for Michelin restaurant chefs and discerning gourmets to choose from.
Yet many Italian people usually began their breakfast with a berry tart. It was an ancient kind of fruit pie, and similar foods could be found in murals from ancient Greece and Rome. Even now, it could still be found in dessert shops along the streets.
At that absurdly expensive vintage restaurant last night, Pomona and Severus had only eaten until they were mostly full. Later, they went to a reasonably priced grill and had some barbecue. On the way out, she bought a Crostata beside the grill for breakfast.
The neighborhood supermarket opened early in the morning, so she went there to buy pumpkin, made pumpkin juice, and cooked sausages and beans into a breakfast that suited British wizarding tastes perfectly.
By the time she had finished bustling about, the old bat had just woken up. She placed the food on a tray and used Wingardium Leviosa to send it to the "noble lord's" bed.
The former Slytherin Head of House watched her without changing expression.
"What are you up to again?"
"Room service," she said eagerly. "Every honeymoon has room service."
"Do you think I'll forgive you just because you did this?"
"No~ Why would you think that?"
That was exactly what she thought, and the old bat had guessed right again.
He sneered, then sat half-reclined against the bed and picked