Long Live the Mafia Prince - A Drarry Fanfiction

Part 031

You don't understand... It has been the only thing I could manage to say.

Why my brain started to buzz with millions of thoughts in the middle of a work day the moment I was informed that someone with a message from Azkaban was here for me, why my heart dropped when the person handed me a wrinkled note scribbled with the handwriting I could recognize from anywhere, why my eyes stuck froze on the final letters of the note, I can't explain with words complex enough to make anyone understand. Why couldn't I hear or say anything? Why did I find myself in the toilet stall, gaze still glued to the crumpled parchment? Why was I unable to move, unable to think, unable to feel for what could've been minutes or hours?

Perhaps it's because the letter that sits somewhere far down in my closet was ripped open with trembling hands nearly a year ago, or maybe I could never recall that day from the beginning, but the images and emotions of that regular late fall afternoon are foggy. If no one saw me that day, if I didn't painfully remember the note in my closet, I would believe it was nothing but a childish nightmare. One where I woke the next day with tear marks down my face and thorns in my throat.

Somehow I can bring back the next day like it was yesterday.

Ron had knocked on my door. He said he was going into work. He asked if I was okay, if I needed anything.

I said I wasn't fine, that I needed... something, I just didn't know what, but I don't think anything actually came out.

Ron left. He said he would try to come home as fast as possible.

You don't understand... It was all that I could say because I didn't understand, and, as much as the part of me that would prefer to never do, I think there might be a corner in my heart I can reach now.

"I didn't get rid of it, the note." I say, "I think I could find it if I tried.".

Ron sits beside me on the marble bench, now equally as lost in 'La vie' as I am. "Would you try?".

I blink at the painted eyes of the dead eagle that never blinks back. "No.".

"Why do you still have it, then?".

"Because I want to know that it's there. Maybe it got wet because of my snow boots, or maybe a rat in the wall ate half of it, but I know it's there, and it will always be there.".

There's some silence.

Ron sits up straighter. "Do you miss him?".

I glance at him. "It sounds bad to miss someone like him.".

"So you do miss him.".

"He wouldn't want me to, but I'm not listening to a dead man.".

Ron scoffs as the last person leaves the exhibit, leaving the room empty but the two of us. Stillness falls as the final footsteps die off into the distance.

"He said the best thing that happened to him was death." I say, "When his mother died, the power his father held on the Mafia started to crack. He said that if I wanted to blame anyone after... everything, I should blame his mother for being the cause for his father to show vulnerability. He said his mother dying changed his life, for the better or worse he didn't say.

"And then he killed his father. He said that changed his life, certainly for the better. He said it was the single and most magnificent gift he gave himself. He said his father appeared in his dreams every night since then, though, telling him he would slowly burn into fine coal at the deepest pits of hell. He took it as a sign that he made his father suffer enough and he said he was glad.

"It was hard to process what he was feeling, he said, and it took him a while to label it 'glad'. He said it became his favorite emotion and he felt it whenever I would... I would wake up in his bed. Seeing me, feeling glad, feeling all sorts of unlabeled things, he said he wanted me to be... happy. He said he wanted to make me happy, and the only thing he correlated to happiness was the only thing that made him happy all of his life.

"He said someone needed to die, it was all he could do for me. He said it was difficult to kill someone behind bars. He said he didn't mind the trouble.".

Words spilled out of my mouth as if it had been there all along, as if all I needed to do was start. Somewhere between shocked and taken aback, Ron lets silence sit for a while. I can almost hear his thoughts running around his brain.

After a bit, he speaks. "So you do understand.".

I gaze at the floor tiles. "I do.".

"You never not understood." Ron says, "It's always been there.".

This time, I take a moment. "He wanted me to be happy, so I needed to be. I wasn't, though. I wasn't happy, not even close. I guess I didn't want to admit that. I guess all I could do was label it 'confused'.".

"...How about now? Are you happy?".

I glance at Ron. "I try. You try. We all try. It's difficult to do sometimes, but we don't mind the trouble, do we?".

/////

It's a miracle I was able to find this place. Though, most of the effort goes to Theodore, of course. In that sense, perhaps the Ministry allowing me to take Draco Malfoy's body is a miracle.

My feet getting stuck on every tree root, slipping at every patch of moss, I reach the place through the ever-moist forest. Once protecting the Mafia castle, these misty, thick woods are now only the forever home of a thief, kidnapper, and murderer. I can just start to make out the remains of what used to be a breathtaking palace as I fight the branches.

"Pretty lonely out here, isn't it?" I say, wiping the sweat off my brow, "I guess you were always lonely, though.".

My voice only echoes up the trees, into the cloudy sky.

I stand, a few steps away from a large stone, the odd one out, sticking out of the ground. Amongst the piles of what once were the walls and floor of the Mafia castle, this stone marks where Draco lies.

"I'm not going to apologize for not coming back soon." I say, "This place is very hard to get to. There's no way I'm coming here often, even for you.".

A bird flies out from somewhere deep in the forest. With a gush of wind, silence falls again.

I clear my throat. "Anyway, I didn't come for much. I just wanted to give you something.".

From the pocket of my coat, I pull out a small paper bag. I rustle through it and place the trinket from it in front of Draco's stone. Taking a step back again, I stare at my gift. I scoff.

"It's a pin. It's small, but it's meant to look like 'La vie'. I got it from the museum this morning." I say, "I thought you'd like it.".

My eyes don't leave the pin as I gather my coat again. Though not very cold yet, inside the woods is a lot chillier. Shivering a little, I put together a few more words.

"I'll go now." I say, shifting my feet, "Enjoy the woods. You better, after I went through everything to get you here. I... I thought since you used to look out your window so much, this would be the only place that would feel like home. Seeing the work of art you left behind is a plus, too, I suppose.".

I sniffle as I look around at the rubble.

"See you again, sooner this time. I promise I'll be back in less than a year." I say, slowly walking back, "...Long live the Mafia Prince.".

//////////

Hello there! You have reached the END of 'Long Live the Mafia Prince'!

Congratulations on making it all the way here, and thank you so much for all the support. I hope you had as much fun reading as I did writing 🖤

With this fic done, though, I plan to write another darker Drarry fic soon! I can't say when I will be prepared enough to do so, but please check in from time to time for updates if you're interested. It might take a while, but I promise, I WILL RETURN!

As odd as it feels (considering this story has been with me since the beginning of this year), I suppose it's time to say good-bye to Harry the auror and Draco the Mafia Prince now... Thank you once again, from the bottom of my heart 🖤