After an hour of wandering the square—of Draco complaining about the actors dressed in costumes around the Mura di Pisa, of directing Harry’s attention to the "real" points of architectural interest, of them both staring quietly at the Angelo Caduto—they’d climbed back into the van with the others and were carted off to Lucca, with its ancient narrow streets and wide, circular piazzas; terracotta for miles. Draco had pointed at the Church of San Michele, murmuring into Harry’s ear over the melodic commentary of their tour guide, waxing lyrical about an Italian painter called Filippino Lippi, his work, how aligned it was with Botticelli’s: Draco’s favourite Muggle artist.