Long Live the Mafia Prince - A Drarry Fanfiction

Part 003

It's just past midnight when I get to the Ministry. Even this late, as per usual, the Auror Office is bustling with the night shift staff doing their part, just as I run down to the Mafia team office to do mine. Turning the last corner, I fly into the office.

"I'm here." I say, out of breath.

The person waiting for me is Dean Thomas, the one other person who is working on this case with me. He is half sitting on his desk, his arm crossed and sleep deprived, looking like he's barely functional. In his chair sits the reason Dean and I are both in the office at this ungodly hour, our witness, who also doesn't seem so perfect. In fact, from the way they're eyes dart around the room to the shaking of their legs, they seem stressed, if not, even scared.

"That was quick." Dean says, "Also right on time.".

"Thanks." I say, joining him, "Good evening, uh...".

The witness shivers into realization that I'm talking to them. "Oh, sorry. I'm, well, do I have to say?".

"It's not necessary. I'm Harry Potter and this is Dean Thomas. We're both aurors on the Mafia team. I heard you saw something regarding the art theft this morning?".

"Yes. Yes, I did. Um... It's just that, well, are you sure this isn't going to get me killed? You know, giving you information?".

Dean leans forward a bit. "We can assure you that we won't let anyone know about your contribution to the case.".

Surprising how kind people can sound. I could never. "Yes, we're obligated to do so.".

The witness nods, but still hesitates. They start talking before my patients run out. "I saw the people who stole the painting.".

"Alright." Dean says, pulling out his notepad, "Let's take this slow, from when you saw them.".

"At about three in the morning. I- My job lets me go at three.".

Watching a jittery person is making me jittery, too. "How many people were there?"

"Four. Four men, or, large women? Just- It was four people.".

"And where were these people?" I say.

"A couple blocks, two blocks I think, down Vulpes street? Uh... Yeah, yeah, two blocks down Vulpes street. From the museum, I mean.".

I glance at Dean. He's writing away. Coming back to the witness, "And how do you know they stole the painting?".

"Uh... I'm sorry. Can I use the bathroom?"

Dean looks up from his notepad. "It's down the hall to the left.".

I watch the witness' back as they leave the room in small, hurried steps. "Do we trust that?".

"What do you mean?" Dean says, yawning.

"The stuttering, the anxiety, the sweating... I don't know about it.".

Dean sighs and rubs his eyes. "Well, what other lead do we have?".

I sigh, too, and nod.

/////

Even after coming back from the bathroom, the witness was still rather disappointing. Not in that the information they gave was bad, but more in that I couldn't trust them. That's the reason attitude is important, I guess. If someone told me the same thing, but sitting without sweating bullets, I would've believed them, no questions asked.

"So, a rundown," Dean says, leaning back in his chair, "These four people covered in black robes flew all the way to the Papilio Art Museum, set their brooms down in a dark alley, somehow stole a huge meter by meter and a half painting, got back to their brooms, and flew off into the night without a single other witness. Oh, and also, those four hooded people are apparently Mafia-seeming.".