When he'd gone to Canada, it had been all over the tabloids, his devastatingly romantic story. Vinny hadn't understood what was so romantic about doing nothing while your fiancee and her family was murdered, but that's what he was asked in every interview. Was it hard? How has it affected your life? How do you answer that? Would you really want to admit that you ran away and left everything you had behind? Vinny had gladly accepted the image of the strong survivor of a far away war, especially if it made his short, one word answers acceptable to the media.
The fact that he had skipped back over the pond to England probably made a lot of sense, back there. He would have pissed off people, of course, but it was just part of his mysterious story. He'd be the story of the week, and soon be forgotten, which was exactly what he wanted.
"It's just a game," he muttered, repeating the mantra that had been going on in his head since he'd taken the portkey from Moosejaw.
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