Long Live the Mafia Prince - A Drarry Fanfiction

Part 004

Was it a good idea to spend the whole night in the office, waiting for Granger to come to work in the morning, just to tell her that I did my job right? Probably not. If I hadn't done that, I wouldn't have fainted after coming home at ten in the morning. I think it was worth it, though. Besides, I wouldn't have been able to sleep with that much adrenaline in my veins.

I woke up at eight, way past sunset, well rested, but stomach empty. By then, Ron was home, having dinner on the couch.

"Home at such a reasonable hour. Go you." I yawn, walking into the living room.

"Solved your first Mafia case. Go you." Ron says.

I chuckle. "I assume the news is out about the hero that I am?".

"You mean about the sleep deprived, Mafia obsessed, maniac you are? Yeah, of course.".

"Is that what the people are calling me?" I say, sitting next to Ron.

"At least it stopped there.".

I glance at what Ron is eating. It's leftover soup from yesterday. "I'm hungry.".

Ron rolls his eyes. "There's more in the kitchen. Are you a five-year-old? Do I need to hand feed you?".

"Doesn't sound too bad." I say.

"Shut up.".

I walk into the kitchen and grab a bowl. "Saw Ginny this morning. I guess you weren't ever going to tell me she's an auror.".

"You saw her in the office?" Ron says from across the hall, "I don't think I've ever seen her at work.".

"'Secret Agent team things', she said.".

"You know, I think that bastard thinks she's better than me because she's an undercover auror. As if we're not doing the exact same job.".

I take my seat back next to Ron with a bowl of room-temperature soup. "Undercover aurors get to go to bars and get paid, while you sit in your office and work over time four times a week. One is clearly better than the other.".

Ron stabs me in the thigh with the back of his spoon.

"Okay, okay." I say, almost spilling my soup. "Did you hear anything about my case? Who got placed? Did they say?".

"I don't know. No one was talking about it, at least." Ron says, finishing his dinner, "Don't you think it'll take a day or two, considering the case isn't in a time crunch?".

I nod. Why does it take so long to get a team together for a case? Just put me, Dean, and some other people on. It's not that deep. Besides, though not fitting every second that passes, the longer it takes to officially open a case, the more likely we won't be able to retrieve the painting and get the Mafia to stand trial. We can't let the Mafia get away with it. It's not everyday we get them cornered like this.

"Are you invested in the case because you care about getting the painting back and actually solving the case, or is it just your personal passion in defeating the Mafia?" Ron asks, washing dishes in the kitchen.

I bring my bowl over, too. "A bit of both.".

"I don't believe that.".

"You shouldn't have asked in the first place, then.".

/////

It's just past two, dark into the night. With my sleep cycle ruined, I'm watching TV in the living room. Nothing much is on, but I have nothing better to do. Thinking about it, this is probably the least busy I've been since I came to the Ministry. Although, being work-free isn't as relaxing as I imagined it would be.

I'm jittery, like the witness from yesterday. My mind is buzzing, I feel anxious like I'm waiting for something, and my senses are alert. All this just because I can't wait a few hours for the Ministry to choose who to take the 'Mafia Art Theft' case? Maybe people are more right about me being a Mafia obsessed maniac than I thought.

Thump.

I dart my gaze to the front door. It sounds like something's on the other side. Did something get thrown into the door? Someone ran into it maybe?

I get up from the couch and slowly approach the mysterious sound. Should I draw my wand or is it overkill? With the squeak, I crack open the door. I make sure to have a clear view of the outside before making sudden movements. Despite the intensity of the moment, despite me even holding my breath, despite me reaching for my wand, there's nothing there.

I open the door all the way to look up and down the street. Still no one. Not even an owl, or even a pigeon. I sigh, mostly feeling pathetic for even mildly preparing for this unlikely breakin situation.

As I'm about to close the cold fall night out, I notice a letter on the ground. This must have been what it was, that sound. An owl bumping into the door and dropping it maybe?

On the outside of the letter, written in the most elegant handwriting I've ever seen, is my name, 'Harry Potter', and other than that, everything is blank. With no indication of who the letter was sent from, the envelope's seal isn't recognizable, either. It's not the rich purple seal of the Ministry, or the emerald green seal from home. More confused than alert now, I close the door.

Coming back into the house, I glance out the window for anyone who could have left the letter at my door. The night couldn't be more still.

The same, consistently perfect handwriting from the envelope is on the letter, too. Although, the 'letter' is more of a short note.

Vulpes street, 3 a.m.

/////

Somehow I couldn't get myself to believe this note was a prank. In fact, I was already pulling on clothes when the thought of it being even possibly illegitimate came to me. It didn't stop me, though, hence why I'm out of the house in the middle of the night for two days in a row, but it did make me leave a note for Ron. At least now he would know I left the house at three in the morning if I end up dead.

It's Vulpes street that got me.

A prank could've led me anywhere, but it had to be Vulpes street. Not any other one of the thousands of streets in London, but the street that a witness specifically mentioned about my case.

It can't be a prank. At least, it can't be a meaningless prank by a nobody.

The nights are getting colder by the day recently. The chilling weather is enhanced by the silence of the dim streets. With only a few street lamps on, the sound of leaves crunching under my feet and the whipping wind seem to be the only things that are awake with me in the world.

I sniff as I pass the Papilio Art Museum. Vulpes street is only a few blocks away. I twiddle with my wand in my pocket as I near the dark alley.

A wave of disappointment washes over. There's no one there. There's no one waiting for me at Vulpes street.

I pull out the note from my pocket. With the light of my wand, I read it again and again, as the words Vulpes street become clearer and clearer. I sigh as I tuck my hands into my coat.

Maybe I'm early. Maybe whoever it is that wants to meet me would turn up if I just wait it out. It's not quite three o'clock yet, that's what it is. Afterall, I left the house pretty early... Or maybe the damn note was a prank. It could very easily be one. There are some teenagers on my street, they're probably stressed about getting used to the new school year, and they chose to target me for mental health reasons, I guess... But why me? How did they know my name? Why to Vulpes street? And to pull a prank in the dead of night? For what fun?

I swing my wand around down the alley out of spite. If this a prank, who ever pulled it, I'm going to-

Sling.

A sharp pain hits the back of my neck. It chills down my spine, and on its way, shocks every bone in my body.

With a gasp, I fall to the ground.