Long Live the Mafia Prince - A Drarry Fanfiction

Part 021

I was four years old when I learnt that, when you become an adult, you can use magic on bad people to help good people. Thinking back, my parents, who taught me of such an occupation, might have lied to me, because after years of yearning to get into said job and finally getting it, I'm not sure if aurors were what they were teaching me about.

Aurors can't use magic on bad people. In fact, they don't even get to have their wands when they are harassed by them. Whether it be stolen by bad people, or by a group of bad people with badges, wands are a rare item on the field.

Aurors can't help good people, either. To begin with, they can barely tell if someone is good or bad, and it's not even their fault. Sometimes a Mafia boss gives you tea for your headache, sometimes the country arrests you wrongfully, and sometimes you become the bad one while trying to be good.

In a world like this, why do aurors even exist? To leave anyone with the job traumatized and have permanent doubt in humanity? Draco's soft fingers gliding down my cheek sure are getting me there...

"Now, how about you finish your tea." Draco says, stepping off his bed, "Meanwhile, we could have, perhaps a conversation?".

My neck feels stiff. "You can stop acting like you're allowing me something. I know enough to see that you planned out every bit of us.".

He chuckles, almost skipping over to his desk. "Us? Like you and I? What do you think I planned out about us, Harry? Haven't I already told you? Your little dream, that's seemingly gotten into an identity crisis, wasn't me, it was-".

"Me?" I say, climbing out of Draco's sheets, "I planned myself to be arrested? I broke myself out of the Ministry? I got myself kidnapped to come to a place no one would find even if I ended up dead? I got myself wrapped up with you?".

Jumping onto his desk, Draco sits comfortably with crossed legs. He shrugs. "Sounds about right to me.".

"Right? What about any of this is-".

Somehow I am standing in front of Draco, my heated breath falling into his lap. With a harmless gloss over his eyes, he looks up at me. "You didn't have to come out to Vuples Street.".

The air pauses. My gaze wanders around Draco's face, hands balled into fists. Like someone poured ice over me, the eruption chills frozen from head down. I'm shaking, almost shivering, but my heart throbs.

"You didn't have to come back after the first time." Draco says, leaning slowly closer, "You didn't have to bring a friend, accepting my trade wasn't necessary, and no one said you needed to follow Theodore out of the Ministry. You were the one who felt safe enough to sleep in my bed, and for the last time, your subconscious kissed me through tears.

Now, if every single bit of us was planned by me, if you want to prove that, you would have to say I messed up your head. Could you do that, or is my planning so meticulous, I made sure you wouldn't be able to?".

A breath in, I lean toward Draco. Appearing slightly taken aback for one and flinching away a bit, he sits back on his arms.

I place my hands next to his knees. Thoughts free-pass my brain, straight out. "Is that what you tell yourself? That a random stranger like me waltzed into your life, unknowing and aimless, leaving you with no choice but to have some fun? Is that how you justify everything that's ever happened in your life? By convincing your head to believe you can do no harm, and if anything were to happen, it's the society, or my father, or whatever fucked up shit you can come up with? Is that what you do? Does that make you at peace with living in your body?".

I can see faint tensing in Draco's jaw. Equally out of character, and familiar, his eyes glisten a little duller, his attitude puffed down. It's like the time he was handing 'La vie' over to me, and clearly scratching the surface, but still mentioning the places he comes from. Then, it felt as if he had forgotten I was there, like he was off stage on the wing, barely even noticing his own lips were speaking. Now, it's as if he was found in a game of hide-and-seek, startled, but slowly letting go of the covers and even relaxing. It was when he finally let go of our fading eye contact that I realized what I had said, what I had done.

I broke Draco Malfoy.

I take a step back, getting off Draco's desk. Gaining breathing room, Draco jumps off his desk, too, stomping over to his window spot. He looks off into the foggy woods through the glass, his hands held in front of him anxiously. Though I can't make out his expression on the reflection of the window pane, there surely is an odd crack in Draco's aura. Just from the back of his head, I can tell.

Long, long moments pass. As the silence of the night creeps in under the window cill, Draco mummers, almost to himself. "I tell myself what is the truth.".

I take a few slow steps closer, trying to make out his voice. "The truth?".

"I tell myself that I am innocent, that I am worthy, that I am... alive. I tell myself the truth, and only the truth." Draco whispers.

"Is someone trying to tell you otherwise?" I say, "Saying you're guilty, worthless, and... dead? Who's lying? Who's the lie?".

I can hear Draco's breaths getting harsher, fiddling his hands just as much. "He was guilty and he was worthless, therefore, he is dead. Unfortunately, that doesn't seem to make him a 'lie'.".

I blink. "Is he... Lucius Malfoy?".

Slowly, Draco turns to face me. Letting his hands fall to his side, he stares dead into my eyes, even past it. "Guilty, worthless, dead. That is all that he was, all that he is, and all that he will ever be.".

Dry saliva runs down my throat. "Aren't you his child? What about him is so different from you that it puts father and son on opposite sides like this?".

"I could never be like him because he raised me." Draco says, a quiver in his tone, "If a dragon treats its offspring like every other creature on the food chain, a baby dragon can't help but grow to be prey.".