Long Live the Mafia Prince - A Drarry Fanfiction

Part 030

Ten in the morning, I open up the kitchen cabinet. Pulling out a bowl from one, and a box of cereal from another, I make myself a quick breakfast. The weekend sun sprinkles in softly through the window as I lean against the counter, eating my serving of cereal. Just as I turn the tap on to clean up, Ron drags into the room.

"Why are you up so early?" Ron says, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, his morning voice raspy.

"It's ten?" I say, returning the dishes to their cabinets.

Ron sits himself at the kitchen table. "It's the weekend?".

"Well, unlike you," I say, heading back to my room, "I've fixed myself a weekend routine.".

"Are you seriously going to the art museum again?" Ron yells down the hall.

I pick out a light jacket for the warm temperatures of early fall. "You say that like it's a crime.".

/////

"And I've just made myself the partner in your crime.".

I glance at Ron, still only half awake as we walk down the road. "This is your choice. Can't blame anyone for that.".

He yawns. "I wasn't going to. All I ask is a 'thank you' for being such a supportive friend.".

I scoff. "Do you realize how many times I went to the art museum alone?".

Ron counts down his fingers, the particular smile he puts on to annoy people on his face. "What, like three times?".

"I'm so glad you care about my hobbies." I say.

"You're very welcome." he says.

With a sigh, I turn a corner, Ron on my tail. Straight ahead, the Papilio Art Museum comes into view.

"If I were you," Ron says, catching up to my side, "I wouldn't ever come back here.".

I frown. "What did this place ever do to you?".

"This is where it all started, isn't it?" Ron says, lowering his voice as if talking about something he shouldn't.

I chuckle, walking through the courtyard which is no longer busy with aurors, but with art enthusiasts and tourists from around the world. "It isn't going to draw me away from looking at art.".

"As you liked art, ever." Ron says.

Looking up at the massive entrance of the museum, I let out a short breath. "I never disliked it.".

"Do you like it enough to come here every weekend for, what- a year after all the Mafia stuff happened?".

"I thought 'Mafia' was a banned word for you." I say mockingly, stepping onto the marble stairs up to the museum building.

Ron rolls his eyes. "Ha ha, very funny...".

There is far too much in the magnificent castle of a museum to see and take in to listen to Ron. Just inside the entrance, there is a delicately designed hall, archways into different exhibits on either side. With tall ceilings and beautifully tiled flooring, it isn't hard to understand why people envy living within walking distance from here.

Though I hear Ron talking in a complaining tone in the background, I'm more focused on the museum curator leading a crowd of people through to the largest exhibition in the building. "...and right in here is the main art piece of the week, if you would follow me down...".

Like hypnosis, my feet move to the voice of the curator. Joining the crowd through the tallest arch, I am met with-

"'La vie' was displayed here last fall, nearly a year ago." The curator says, "It's almost a miracle it is back for us, though, considering what happened to it the last time it had come overseas from France. For those who aren't aware, this piece...".