Long Live the Mafia Prince - A Drarry Fanfiction

Part 009

"You can still back out." I say.

"Now? Uh, no thank you." Ginny says.

I glance at her.

My confidence, or at least the small amount of it I have, comes from the fact I have been down this path before. From being out on a cold fall night at three in the morning, to waiting for Draco Malfoy's people at Vulpes Street, and getting knocked out to be kidnapped, I'm an experienced specialist. So how does one explain the lack of fear and uncertainty in Ginny?

Perhaps she's just a braver person, a better auror than I am. Or she's chosen to ignore the dangerously large chances of failure in this mission.

Ginny shivers, wrapping her coat around herself tighter. "How close are we?".

"Just a few blocks down." I say, "Maybe we should split up now.".

"Right." she says, pulling out her wand, "Don't let your guard down, Harry. Please be careful.".

I nod. Maybe she hasn't managed to fully ignore all flashing red flags.

Checking my watch, it's nearly three. I take a long breath, pressing down the nervousness of knowing what's about to happen. If everything goes expectedly, Draco Malfoy's people should be here by now, waiting to strike at any moment.

Making sure to not look directly her way, I check Ginny's position. I see a small twinkling light in the alley two blocks down, as planned. For a second, I thought I saw a glimpse of movement in the direction, but I wasn't allowed time to think on it.

/////

A spike down my spine, darkness, consciousness, and nausea.

A cycle I'm never going to get used to, not that I would need it.

I open my eyes. With a breath, I look around. Everything before my sight is perfectly the same as yesterday, like deja vu. The weapons on the walls, the mystical violin tune, and Draco Malfoy, all the same. Maybe it's the fainting, or the fact that it's rather late into the night, but everything seems as if I'm dreaming. After all, I never imagined, not even in my actual dreams, I'd end up at the Mafia's lair again, with consent at that.

"Is there a way to do this without the headache?" I say, sitting myself up on Draco Malfoy's bed.

The fogginess of my senses and muddled thoughts clear faster than the last time. Unsettling, but I might be adapting.

With a crisp mind, I trace down my plan. Play along. Act. Act like I know Draco Malfoy, like I can see through Draco Malfoy, like I can control Draco Malfoy, just as he acts like he knows me, like he can see through me, like he can control me.

The violin squeaks to a pause. Putting down his instrument, Draco Malfoy turns from his spot at the window and faces me. Meeting eyes with him once again, I somehow feel like a wave crashed over me. A loud, violent wave. "I see you're not so petrified. Getting used to the place?".

I cringe at the dizziness, but pretend to not notice. Play along. "Turns out being kidnapped gets almost old the second time around.".

Sitting at the end of the bed, seemingly out of habit at this point, he scuffs. "What fresh new way do you suggest, then, Harry?".

Harry... Play along. "Anything that would leave me awake is more or less an improvement.".

"You know, I might consider that." Draco says, sliding closer, "Miss me one more time, maybe Theodore would take you on a walk instead.".

I attempt to smile. A decent start and a decent acting job.

"Speaking of, I would assume you aren't here to pass time. Is seeing me what you wanted, or do you have other intentions?" Draco says.

"I guess I could say seeing you is a part of other intentions." I say. Play along.

Draco raises his brows. "Kind of you to phrase it that way.".

"You're welcome.".

"So what do you want?".

Without skipping a beat, I resight the words I've repeated in my head dozens of times in the past twelve hours. No more playing along. That's the plan. "I wanted to know, do you really think your father not being supportive of your enthusiasm in art was a fair reason to kill him in an art museum? Or was it just a sick joke that you thought would be striking? Maybe even iconic?".

Draco listens carefully, takes a moment, then laughs. I'm not sure what response I wished for, but it wasn't quite this.

"Do you see me as the type of person to kill because of artistic differences?" he says, fading from his laugh.

I keep a straight face. No more playing along. "Yes, I do, actually.".

In a blink, Draco's face drops. His soft, alluring gaze turns into a frozen, piercing glare. "Well, that's very insensitive of you. To say you see me as a simple, ignorant murderer, just like my dad, it really hurts my feelings.".

I'm only noticing now how much I've been sweating. "Then help me. Help me understand that you're different, Draco.".

"Draco..." he says, his lips scoffing, his eyes stone cold, "I guess I should admit my plan is a failure.".

I pause. "What plan?".

"I thought you'd thank me, come back for me, start caring about my feelings. Isn't that what people typically do when someone gives them the opportunity of their career? Like a key evidence to a homicide, the smoking gun to a huge case?".

"The confession note, you mean?".

He moves even closer. "Did you even see the note? Or are you too dumb to connect the dots? How come the Ministry isn't freaking out about the Mafia boss' son killing his dad?".

I take a breath, in and out. "I saw the note. That's why I'm here. I know you're the murderer I'm looking for.".

"If you saw the note," Draco says, a finger on my forehead, "the whole Ministry should be here with you. Not just a girl.".

A chill shoots down my neck.

A girl? Ginny?

Draco shoves my head away and gets up. "Don't look so surprised. It accentuates your... stupidity.".

I jump off the bed and snatch his wrist. I twist him around, my nose almost touching his. "What did you do with her?".

Draco sighs, his breath shivering down my chest. "Nothing.".

"You're lying.".

"You're not a good auror.".

"Shut up. Answer my-".

"If you were one, you would know I'm telling the truth. You also would know better than to bring people you care about right into the heart of the Mafia.".

Something drains from my body. Passion, confidence, bravery, whatever it is, it's all gone, flushed out from me...

I let Draco's wrist fall. His expression, again in a moment, has warmed, his eyes alluring and soft. With those eyes, he stares into my mine, and I glare back. Those eyes...

The same eyes that saw me terrified and in tears before his presence. The same eyes that asked me if I had missed him, if I had come to see him. The eyes that called me by name as if we were friends, allies.

The same eyes that stole 'La vie'. The same eyes that killed his own father and not even blink. The same eyes that took Ginny away to do who knows what.

Draco presses my shoulder and gently sits me down back in his bed. I barely notice myself moving at his touch. Then he takes a seat at his desk. "I feel we're getting off topic. We were talking about my dad, yes?".

To believe there was a time when plans mattered. It's all out the window now. I feel light headed. "What did you do with her?" I repeat.

"You know, dad loved it when people talked about him." Draco says, spinning his chair around and around, ignoring me, "Almost makes me not want to speak his name. But then again, I'd do anything for you. Wouldn't I, Harry?".