Mafioso

The street wasn't as crowded further away from the cafe and there was still no sign of Alain, so Harry just kept walking, going past the tram station and turning the corner in the opposite direction of the Galleria. The streets around them seemed to be a business district, which would explain the slowly thinning foot traffic, but he knew such a popular shopping district as the Galleria would be busy no matter what.

Sinclair was strangely silent while walking beside Harry. Or maybe it wasn't strange; the man had been quiet when they first met in Innsbruck. Harry didn't know him well enough to tell what was normal. He wondered if the man was as tired of chasing after him as Harry was of running away.

He wondered why the thought the man might get tired of him sent a chill down his spine.

Unfortunately it became difficult for Harry to think much about anything as the further they walked, the busier the street became. He was certain they had passed at least one government building, and everything else looked like offices and such, so it should have been a quiet area for this time of day. But instead there was an incredible amount of bustling, hundreds of people hurrying around, on the streets, on the walkways….

It was a noisy, chaotic flow of people, people, people, and it was starting to give Harry a headache.

Sinclair was keeping pace with him, not looking particularly concerned, but when Harry flinched from yet another wave of pedestrians pressing too close as they all hurried to cross the street ahead of them, he took Harry by the elbow and steered him to the side and under a stone arch. The alley behind the archway was short, not even a full block, and opened very suddenly out to a large rounded square that was a whole world away from where they'd just been.

The area was grassy and quiet, a startling change from the paved streets and honking traffic, and everywhere were stone pillars and broken walls rising out of the green. Roman ruins, only a step off the brick alley that led back to a paved street full of cars and pencil skirts and vespas and suits.

There were some signs of modern times in the buildings around them and graffiti on most of the ruins, paint and carvings, mostly of slurs and names, and the occasional crude drawing. All of it was faded though, much like the stone it was on, as if it had all been there forever just as it appeared now.

But best of all, was the quiet, all the traffic muffled to a gentle roar in the background.

Harry wandered around, just looking, and Sinclair followed silently behind him. There were areas that looked dug up and muddy, where wheelbarrows and shovels were left, and sections where string cordoned off some pillars and bits of wall. Other areas were overgrown with grass and weeds and shrubs, discarded cigarette butts and trash the only signs of people visiting. It was half archeological dig, half abandoned lot.

After circling the whole area, Harry picked out one of the grassy places, with the least amount of trash that he kicked aside, and lay down. It was sunny and laying back to stare at the sky, all he could see was a couple of the stone pillars, a rooftop from one of the surrounding buildings, telephone wire, and endless blue.

"You're gonna get grass stains," Sinclair commented. He was still standing to the side, looking down at Harry with an unreadable expression and his hands in his pockets.

"They'll wash out." Harry was finally starting to relax, the warmth from the sun doing wonders for a chill he hadn't realized he had until he could feel the heat chasing it out of his bones. He closed his eyes with a sigh.

Sinclair sorted. "If you wash your clothes in the navigli, you'll have worse than grass stains."

"I don't have to use the canals to wash my clothes."

"There's not much other choice where you're staying."

Harry opened his eyes and looked up to find Sinclair standing almost over his head, looking back down at him with those flat black eyes.

"So you did follow me," Harry said placidly. Why wasn't he bothered by that?

Sinclair lifted a hand up to pull his hat down to hide his eyes - a completely useless gesture when the person looking at him was below him - and which should have looked ridiculous from this angle, but with a simple tilt of his head, the man managed to make look cool.

"You saw what happened last night," Harry continued. He didn't say Why didn't you help? and the absence of it felt heavy, not really an accusation but it hung in the air between them.

It was difficult to see what sort of look Sinclair gave him shaded by the brim of his hat, but Harry was sure it was very judgemental.

"You didn't need help," the man said simply. He frowned and looked away. "You weren't afraid at all."

That wasn't said as a question, but it definitely seemed to be one, hanging in the air now like Harry's silence just had. Harry thought about it, trying to remember what he'd felt last night meeting Alain and his friends. It really hadn't been fear, and it had been such a long time since Harry felt that anyway he couldn't even imagine why the would-be robbers should have caused fear.

"They were just kids," he said finally.

"They're all at least as old as you." Sinclair still seemed to be frowning and was now staring at Harry as if trying to puzzle out something. Harry shrugged and closed his eyes.

"I guess," he said vaguely. "But they feel younger."

Sinclair snorted but pointedly didn't argue. Harry thought some more.

"They didn't feel terribly dangerous," he said slowly, "just like they wanted to be but didn't have much practice at it." He tasted the words as he spoke and decided they fit for Alain and his friends well enough. "They're good kids, they gave me a place to stay."

Sinclair scoffed. "Sure. They threatened you with a knife, but they're good kids."

"Better than threatening me with a gun," Harry said with an attempted shrug. He was definitely going to get grass stains on his jacket.

Sinclair was silent for a minute, long enough for Harry to start relaxing again and slip close to drifting off.

"So a gun would frighten you?" was said quietly above him.

Harry blinked drowsily up at the man. "Guess it depends on who's holding it."

Sinclair stared at him silently, and Harry felt like it would be wrong to look away, so he stared back. Finally, the man gave a snort, and turned to walk over to a knee high pile of stones that might have once been a wall. He sat down on the very edge of the smooth rounded stones and elegantly stretched out his legs to keep his balance. After a quick flick he had a lit cigarette between his lips, hands back in his pockets, and he was settled as if he planned to stay there for the rest of the day.

Harry was certain the man was smiling, but with the angle and the cigarette it looked more like a smirk.

"You know, you'd be more comfortable on the ground," Harry offered.

Sinclair tilted his head to the side. His black eyes were scarily bright reflecting the cigarette burn under the shadow of his hat, and Harry found he couldn't look away. After a minute, the man lifted a hand up to take the cigarette out and answered.

"You can get all the grass stains you want but this suit cost more than the train here."

"If it's so expensive, I'm sure you can afford to get it cleaned properly," Harry said with a grin. He was warm inside and out, and for some reason it felt like he'd passed some kind of test. It made him almost giddy.

Sinclair looked at him with an eyebrow cocked, face blank but somehow giving the impression that he didn't quite believe what he was seeing.

"Come on," Harry patted the ground beside him. "It won't hurt. Promise."

Sinclair snorted and closed his eyes. Harry thought that would be the end, the man was just going to ignore him now, and while it was a shame he couldn't keep teasing if it really bothered him. But then the man stood up in a sudden fluid movement, hands still in his pockets, and strolled over to him. His eyes opened just the barest crack to look down at him.

"Any grass stains I get, you're washing out," he said darkly. Then he crouched down and sat cross legged beside Harry's head. "And you're not allowed to use the stinking canal water."

Harry stared at him for a moment, blinking stupidly, then he snorted out a laugh that soon devolved into helpless giggles he tried to smother under his hand. Sinclair was glaring at him, confused by the laughter and suspicious he was being laughed at. Harry twisted onto his side towards him and looked up at the man, grinning widely.

"You're ridiculous," he said, so fondly that it shocked the man into staring dumbly back at him rather than take offense. Harry grinned wider. "Deal," he said, again so warmly that Renato seemed helpless to respond, and how did that somehow make it so much easier to think of him as 'Renato' instead of 'Sinclair'?

He'd have to ask first before actually using it though, it would be too rude to assume anything. Even if the way Renato was looking at him, wide eyed and mouth very slightly slack, was absolutely hilarious.

Harry turned onto his back again, luxuriating in the flood of warmth he could feel tingling through his skin all the way down to his bones. Laying in the sun was definitely the best; he was glad winter was finally over. As he tucked his hands back behind his head, he heard a soft sigh next to him and glanced up. Renato's eyes were closed again, but he had the most relaxed expression Harry had yet seen on the man. He smiled and closed his own eyes.

Looked like he wasn't the only one ready for spring.

It was probably ridiculous to feel so at ease spending the day with Renato after having tried so hard to avoid him, Harry thought ruefully. But he was already hopelessly attached if the constant warm feeling spreading through his chest was any indication. Even the thought of giving up the man's comforting presence now was enough to make Harry shiver with goosebumps.

His plan to be a wandering hermit would have to wait for next time. For now, he would simply enjoy having a companion for as long as it lasted. Glancing at the man beside him, who had only really relaxed finally after Harry agreed to let him walk him back to Mme. Nadia's place, he hoped it would be a long, long while before they had to say goodbye.

"What are you grinning about?" Renato asked suspiciously.

Harry shook his head and laughed. "I'm just...glad, I guess."

Renato gave him a weird look. "Are you planning another sudden trip across Europe?"

"No." Harry glanced away. "I… Well, it's probably silly, but I wanted to say thanks."

"Huh?" Renato's face was almost hilariously blank, as if the man was so unsure how to react that he couldn't react at all. Harry had the feeling he was very embarrassed by his slack-jawed shock earlier in the day.

"Thanks for sticking around," Harry said with a shrug. "You were right." He looked back at Renato and grinned. "This is better than being alone."

Renato's face was so stiff it could have been carved from stone. Harry had to clap a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing. That seemed to help the man snap out of it though.

"Do you always laugh at people doing you a favor?" Renato asked sullenly, then brushed past Harry down the alley, looking anywhere but at him. Harry smiled softly and simply followed. Renato was going to be an interesting friend, he could tell.

As they walked, Harry turned to thinking what he was going to tell Mme. Nadia and Alain when he saw them. He was supposed to get a job today, and he'd basically bailed on Alain and his 'job,' then spent the whole day fooling around with Renato.

After waking up from a very pleasant nap, during which Renato had apparently just sat around and watched him, Harry had admitted he did have money hidden away and that was why he didn't need to find any part time work. So they went to lunch instead. They didn't have cassoeula, but Renato seemed to know all the best food around, and Harry thought the man rather enjoyed taking him on a brief eating tour of the city. He was very full by the time evening came, too full to even consider dinner, though Renato tried to tempt him with dessert.

It was very tempting, but Harry had refused because he needed to give Nadia at least some money, so she wouldn't think he had skived off- or that Alain had given him mafia work. He also had to figure out a good cover for how he got the money he had- make up some sort of part time job he could have found on his own that would be believable.

He still hadn't come up with anything though, and he and Renato were almost there. Oh! And he had to think of something to say about Renato too, Nadia was sure to peg him for a mafioso. It was a bit obvious now that Harry thought of it.

If only he didn't feel so fuzzy around the edges, he'd have come up with something already.

The nap and then all the food had left Harry in a warm, contented haze. It was no wonder Renato had asked why he was smiling so much- he was walking around like a happy little dope! Even knowing how embarrassing he was being, Harry was too relaxed to care. He could still feel the sun from the day soaking into his skin, and the warmth from all the delicious food still filled him up more nicely than anything else he'd ever eaten.

He was so out of it that it took him a few steps to realize Renato had stopped and was staring down the street at the Parondi household, where Alain and his friends were hanging about. Harry glanced at Renato curiously, then turned back to wave at the men waiting for him.

"Do you really need anything in that bag of your's?" Renato asked suddenly.

"What?" Harry frowned back at him. "What in the world is that supposed to mean?"

He turned to continue walking, but was pulled back by Renato grabbing his arm and yanking him to the side.

"What the bloody hell-!" Harry only had time to turn to the man, intending to ask what was wrong with him, when a gunshot blasted through the air. Harry blinked, his ears ringing, and looked behind him to see another man, one he didn't recognize walking calmly towards them, a gun pointed directly at them.

Or rather, his gun was pointed at Renato, who had dragged Harry to the wall of the building next to Mme. Nadia's home and stood before him. He also had a gun out, and pointed at the stranger.

"I suppose it's too much to expect such a simple shot to actually hit a renowned man like you," the man with the gun said. Despite his self-deprecating tone, the man was smiling smugly and watching Renato with eager, narrowed eyes.

Renato just glared and raised his gun.

"Ah, ah, ah!" The man waved a finger at him as if scolding a child, then gestured down the street.

Harry glanced over and saw Alain and Simone also pointing guns toward them. They didn't look too happy, and Vincenzo behind them was blocking Nadia's front door and keeping his eyes on the other end of the street.

"A simple shot might not work on you, but a simple trap seems like it will do the trick," the stranger said, sounding nauseatingly pleased.

"We'll see," Renato said coldly. He hardly bothered to glance at Alain and Simone, keeping his attention on the stranger. Harry had to admit, the other man did feel more dangerous out of all of them.

He couldn't help but turn to Alain though, who didn't seem to like being looked at, and immediately started sputtering and waving his gun around. Simone had to back away just to stay out of range, and Harry was worried the gun might go off while it was being jerked about.

"Why didn't you tell us you were friends with him!" Alain finally got out.

"I wasn't," Harry said with a shrug. "I didn't even know he was a mafioso."

"Th-that- You have to be kidding!" Alain said angrily. "How could any idiot not tell!"

"How was I supposed to know?" Harry frowned and tried to step closer to the two, but Renato shifted back so he blocked him, never taking his eyes off the stranger. Harry gave him a brief glare, then turned back to Alain and crossed his arms in annoyance. "It's not like he told me he was mafia- not until you got me to do that stupid job for you!"

"I wouldn't have if I'd known you were friends with one of their bastado dogs!"

"And I told you I wasn't!" Harry was starting to get angry finally. "Why couldn't you just take me to that bakery your grandmother told you to!"

"Hey, don't bring her into this!" Alain waved his gun around to point at his grandmother's door. Simone jumped out of the way and Vincenzo flinched backward and fell off the step. "I was trying to help you!"

"Some help," Harry scoffed. "Setting me up to watch mafia without warning me?"

"This is cute and all, but I'm getting bored." The man facing off with Renato sneered and called down the street. "Just shoot him already."

Alain blanched. But he still raised his gun to point toward Harry again.

Harry just watched him silently, a resigned frown on his face. Renato was unnaturally stiff behind him.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" the man snarled when nothing happened.

"I-" Alain flinched and glanced back at his friends, then Harry, then the man. The gun in his hand was wavering and Harry worried now that if he fired, the bullet would go through a wall and hurt someone else.

"It's alright," Harry said calmly. He gave Alain a soft smile. "Just calm down."

"Don't fucking listen to him!" the man yelled. "Are you a Tomaso or aren't you?!"

"I am!" Alain said quickly, his eyes were bouncing wildly now between the man- his boss maybe?- and Harry. Unfortunately, the gun was bouncing too as his grip shook even more.

"Calm down kid," Renato said coldly, not even bothering to look away from the angry mafioso ordering Alain around. "You don't have to shoot anyone on your grandmama's doorstep."

Alain flinched and actually fell back a step, raising the gun to the sky and looking over his shoulder at Mme. Nadia's home. His friends avoided his eyes as they pretended to be watching the street, but he didn't seem to see them now anyway.

"It's alright!" Harry stepped away from Renato before he could stop him, hands raised carefully. A bullet in the air was so much worse than one aimed at least somewhat parallel to the ground.

Alain jerked and dropped the gun to aim shakily at him. Harry froze and raised his hands slowly with a smile.

"It's alright," he repeated firmly. "You can shoot-"

"What the fuck-" Renato snarled behind him.

The mafioso with the gun whistled and called out. "Yeah, shoot him!"

Harry ignored them both and focused on Alain, who'd gone very pale.

"You can shoot, but you need to be calm, okay?" he said slowly. "I know you don't want anyone else here to get hurt, right?"

"What?" Alain hissed.

"Your grandmother's neighbors?" Harry gestured slowly to the houses beside them and across the canal. "Your neighbors? Your family grew up here, you probably know everyone on the block," Harry guessed.

Alain was looking around at the walls, face stricken, and Harry knew that a lot of people were probably awake and listening, and Alain knew that too.

"I know this probably wasn't your idea either," Harry continued soothingly. "You would never want people you know put in danger like this, right?"

Alain stuttered and the gun went slightly skyward again. Harry sucked in a breath and took a slow step forward.

"I know that," he said quickly. "You're a really good boy, like Nadia says. But you have to stay calm, okay? And- if you aren't going to point the gun at me, please, please point it at the ground."

"What?" Alain looked at him funny, even as his eyes kept flitting around to all the windows on the street. "Why?"

"Because a stray bullet can travel pretty far," Harry said soothingly. "And it comes back down at the same speed as you shoot it, so…."

Alain flinched, sending the sky an almost betrayed look, as if it was holding a gun of its own. But he did lower the gun to point at the ground. Harry sighed in relief and smiled gently at Alain when he looked back down.

"Now, you really should go back inside to your nonni," he said. "I'm sure she's worried sick about you." Harry glanced at Simone and Vincenzo. "You two as well, I know she won't turn you away."

"Che cazzo!" The man behind him yelled. "You're treating the men of the Tomaso like naughty children!" He glared at Alain and his friends, who flinched. "And you weak-willed morons are letting him!"

"Wha- No we're not!" Alain cried. He had looked torn between taking Harry's advise or staying, until his maybe-boss started mocking him. Now he raised the gun up to point at Harry again and strode quickly toward him.

Renato shifted closer to Harry, still facing the stranger with a gun, but clearly ready to fight Alain first if he had to. Harry put a hand on his back and pushed him toward the worse enemy.

"Don't," he said softly. "I'll deal with the kids, you deal with that arse."

Unfortunately, he wasn't as quiet as he'd meant to be, and Alain had got closer than he'd thought.

"Kids?" Alain shrieked. "Is that what you think of us, you lying bastard!"

"What- No!"

"Nice job," Renato muttered under his breath before turning fully to the stranger. Harry winced, but focused on Alain and raised his hands again.

"Look, Alain-"

"Don't you fucking Alain me!" Alain snarled. He jerked the gun at Harry in a furious wave. "I let you into Nonni's home! Tried to help you get back on your feet, and all along you were with those trash Family's dog!"

"What?" Harry said blankly. He really had no idea what kind of turf war was apparently going on with Alain's mafia group and whoever Renato was with.

"Don't fucking play dumb!"

"I...I really don't know anything about mafia," Harry said slowly. "And I really only found out he was a mafioso today- because of the job you tried to get me to do!"

"The job you fucking ruined so those Beccio bastards could get an edge over the Tomaso!"

"You left me at a damn table by myself with no instructions!" Harry waved a hand to the side, as if pointing at said table he'd been left at.

Alain raised his hands, gun and all, up in an exhasperated shrug. "I told you to watch for anyone in a brown hat and jacket! Any idiot could do that and get paid!"

"Lots of people wear brown hats and jackets!" Harry yelled and stomped up to Alain in his annoyance. He might have heard Renato hiss behind him, but nothing else. "What was I supposed to do afterwards- pick them out from a photograph!"

"Yes, pirla!" Alain shouted in his face, gun now forgotten as anything more than an emphatic object to wave around.

"That's a terrible plan!" Harry pressed a hand to his chest. "You don't know me! I could have the worst memory for faces in the world!"

"Well do you?" Alain asked loudly as he waved the gun over Harry's head in frustration.

"No, but that's not the point!"

"What the fuck is the point then!" Alain was turning purple from shouting so much.

"I really need you to put the damn gun down!" Harry yelled at him. Then he kneed Alain in the groin, grabbed the arm with the gun, and twisted until he dropped it with a howl.

Simone and Vincenzo shouted out while Alain slid to the ground with a groan. Harry calmly picked up the gun and emptied the bullets. He put both gun and bullets in his pockets and looked down at Alain sadly. Simone ran up and held a gun up to his head and Harry just stared at him.

"Take him inside," he said firmly. Simone flinched and took a step back. "And all of you bloody well stay there."

"I can't believe you spineless trash," the man behind him shouted. "You really aren't worthy to join the Tomaso! You bottom feeders are only fit to pickpocket and swindle in the gutters you came from!"

A loud bang cut off any more of his increasingly nasty tirade. Simone and the others all flinched and crouched to the ground. Harry looked back and saw the man off to the side, close to the buildings with a gash across half his face. Renato walked toward him steadily, gun held steady and a sharp grin barely visible from the side as he walked away from Harry.

"Looks like he really does have them handled," he said with a purr. "Which means you're the only one I have to worry about."

In an instant, Renato lunged forward and shot again. This time Harry saw the trail of the bullet shining like a ray of sunlight before exploding against the wall the stranger had been crouched next to. Unfortunately, the man had dodged in a tumble out into the street and started firing back.

Renato dodged and weaved gracefully as he sent his own bullets back, though none of them exploded now.

Harry stopped watching then, because some of the stranger's stay bullets were hitting perilously close to Alain and the others. He turned back toward where Simone was helping Alain up, though they both stayed low due to fear of being hit. Harry hurried over and grabbed Alain's other arm and, after a glance at Simone, they pulled him up together and ran for Vincenzo and the door to Nadia's house.

Vincenzo held the door until they were all through and slammed it closed behind them. The guns firing outside were only slightly quieter here, and they all had no more than a moment to listen to the bangs move a little farther away before Alain yanked his arm out of Harry's grip and stomped on his foot.

"Ow! What the hell!" Harry hopped away to lean against the wall while holding his aching foot. His boots were not the most protective pair he'd ever owned, hardly even worthy of the title of boots to begin with.

"You traitorous bastard!" Alain yelled. He turned to his friends. "Why the hell did you let him in here!"

"Uh," Vincenzo looked vaguely sheepish as he realized he hadn't even thought to stop Harry from entering with his friends.

"You were heavy," Simone said with a shrug. But he turned to Harry and pointed his gun at him with another shrug.

"Oh come on!"

"You deserve to get shot!" Alain said angrily. "You're on that filthy hitman dog's side! Our only chance to identify Beccio mules at the only place we knew they'd be, and you fucking ruined everything!"

"Okay, first of all," Harry said as he straightened and tested some weight on his sore toes, "if this job was so important, you shouldn't have had someone who didn't know what they were doing do it!"

Alain opened his mouth to argue, but Harry cut him off with a raised hand.

"And second of all! I didn't know Renato was a mafioso!"

"Please!" Alain scoffed. He waved a hand between Harry and the door, where they could all hear guns still going off and quite a bit of cursing now too. "You didn't know the bloody hitman of the Great Mafia War was part of the mafia?"

"The what?" Harry blinked. Mafia War? That sure hadn't been on the news. "Wait, hitman? Is he famous-?"

-for killing people, Harry couldn't bring himself to say. Somehow the revelation that Renato was mafia, and that he could have killed Harry on that job if they didn't know each other hadn't really translated into 'he actually kills people' in Harry's head.

"He's only like the most renowned hitman in the last decade!" Alain said with a sneer. "And he's the Vongola's favorite for-hire dog! Them and all their stinking, bastardo allies, like the Beccio!"

"Well," Harry looked over at Vincenzo nodding and Simone shrugging, "I definitely did not know that."

"Like I'd really believe-" Alain started angrily.

"Look, you wanna know what my job was before I went backpacking around the world?" Harry said loudly. He glared at Alain until he shut it and waited. "I was a policeman, alright?"

Alain and his friends all stared at Harry slack jawed.

Truthfully, Harry had been working at a car shop as a mechanic before he started his most recent country-hopping-hermit-holiday, but he'd been an auror for a good long while once upon a time. That was basically a police officer...with magic...but a copper all the same.

"Yeah," Harry said dryly. "So trust me when I say that I had absolutely no idea Renato was mafia, and I have no blasted idea what's going on with mafia stuff either."

"Y-you-you're a fucking mole!" Alain yelled and pointed at him dramatically.

Harry frowned in annoyance and waved a hand. "No I'm not. That was a long time ago, and I am permanently retired." He glared at Alain as he sputtered. "I am on holiday goddammit."

"Is that why that crazy hitman is following you around?" Vincenzo asked in shock. "Are you his job?"

"His job?" Harry repeated blankly, and wasn't that a scary thought? But he hadn't actually had a job in law enforcement in this world, and he had no connection to crime beyond what was happening now. So surely no one in the mafia could have any reason to want him dead?

"I-I actually have no idea why he's been following me around," Harry said slowly. There was the obvious reason he'd always assumed-of mutual attraction. It wasn't as if he hadn't had his share of hopeful stalkers before this after all. "We met a month or so ago, in Innsbruck."

"At the Games?" Alain said incredulously. "Were you betting?"

"No," Harry gave him a weird look. "I actually didn't get there until the Games were over. I don't really like crowds."

Alain, Simone, and Vincenzo all traded vaguely helpless looks before going back to staring at Harry incredulously. He shrugged, more confused than ever. There was a brief pause in the gunfire outside and the sudden silence was strangely loud, ringing in his ears like church bells.

"Hey," Harry looked around in sudden realisation. "Where's Mme. Nadia?"

Alain shifted guilty and slowly jerked his thumb toward the stairs.

"There's no way she'd just stay in her room while all this-" Harry gestured toward the door, just in time for a deep boom to rock the walls and shake dust out of the ceiling. They all stared when the gunfire started up again shortly after.

"...is going on," Harry continued slowly.

"We drugged her wine," Simone said.

"And she's still asleep?" Harry said surprised.

"...and we tired her to her chair," Alain said, dread making each word come out quieter than the last.

"Oh." Harry winced when what sounded like a wall collapsing shook the whole house, and possibly the whole street. "Yeah, that's probably safer for everyone."

Alain nodded fearfully.

"This is really going on a lot longer than I thought it would though," Harry said worriedly. "How do they both have so many bullets?"

"Oh, it's probably from the units sent as backup," Alain said.

"Units…," Harry's eyes widened and he strode over to the little window by the door and peeked out through the thin, crochet curtain. "Oh my god! Why didn't you say there were more people than just you?"

"It's called a trap, idiot," Alain said, trying for arrogance but only managing to sound tired.

"Great," Harry hissed when he saw that yes- there were more than just two people out there with guns. Shit, he'd really left Renato to fend for himself with who knows how many assailants.

"Okay, you three are staying here," Harry said as he turned to the door. "Watch over your grandmother-"

"What the fuck?" Alain said angrily. "You think we're just going to let you leave? And join up with that bastard hitman dog?"

"I have to help him," Harry said sternly. "I'm the reason he's even here!"

"You don't even know him you said!" Alain waved wildly at the door. "You met like a month ago! He could be planning to kill you!"

"He's been nice to me," Harry frowned thinking back on all their meetings and conversations. For a Mafioso, Renato had been wonderfully polite and charming- even when Harry wasn't. He looked up at Alain gaping at him. "Like you were," he said softly.

Alain turned beet red in seconds and sputtered.

"You know, for a pig, you really are a crazy tourist," Simone said, sounding almost impressed.

Harry smiled gently at them, they really were just children. "I am a tourist," he said before he turned back to the door. "Keep your grandmother safe, Alain! She's worries too much for you to get hurt now."

Then he was outside, so he missed whatever it was Alain tried to call after him.