Mafia structure:

Boss → Underboss → Caporegime → Soldier/Henchmen

There is a Consigliere who is level with a Underboss but is just an advisor to the boss, and rarely partakes in the actual daily ongoings of the business. There are associates, who have connections to the Mafia and help out with things but aren't actual members, though that can change.

Chapter 15 Dragon Mafia

Well I don't know why I came here tonight.

I've got the feeling that something ain't right.

I'm so scared in case I fall off my chair,

and I'm wondering how I'll get down the stairs.

Harry sang softly along with the music. His wand was clutched in one hand as he danced forward and back while he sang.

Clowns to the left of me!

Jokers to the right!

Here I am stuck in the middle with you.

He twirled his wand between his fingers and looked at the wizard who sat before him. The man's hands were tied behind his back and his mouth was gagged. He looked at Harry with fear plainly on his face. However, there was also confusion, for the wizard had no idea what Harry was doing.

Harry sighed and flicked his wand, cutting the music off.

"This is what I can't stand about you purebloods. Here I am, reenacting one of the best scenes from modern film, and you can't even appreciate it. If you could, you would be both slightly amused at my antics but also extremely terrified for the safety of your ear."

The man let out a whimpering sound at the last bit. Harry had layered the entire apartment with translation charms, tying them into the wards, so the man had heard and understood everything.

"Oh now you're concerned about the ear! If you would have just ventured into any muggle movie theater back in October five years ago, you would have been concerned about your fucking ear as soon as the song started playing!"

Another whimper escaped the man, as Harry bemoaned the lack of appreciation for his antics. He wondered briefly how the man had become a soldier for the Dragon Mafia. Granted, the man looked tough but Harry was quickly finding out, the man was anything but. He wondered how many of these other "soldiers" for the Dragon Mafia were all appearances, and were only brave in their safety of numbers.

"Let's make this easy yeah? You tell me what I want and you can keep the ear. Sounds like a fair trade right?"

With a twitch of his finger, Harry lowered the gag around the man's mouth.

"They'll kill me," the man weakly protested.

"My good man, lets not worry about what they might do, and instead focus on the shit I'm about to do. If I don't get my answers of course." There was a brief pause. "You do like your ear don't you? I myself enjoy the use of earmuffs in the winter. And my sunglasses don't slide from my face thanks to both my ears. So they're rather useful, if you think about it. Such a damn shame to lose one."

Despite his earlier whimpering, the man wasn't saying anything. Harry guess he should give the man some bonus points in the balls department to make up for his earlier show of being a wimp. He moved the gag back into place with a jab of his finger.

"Ok, since you won't talk here's how this is going to go down. I'm going to torture you a bit and see how that goes. Nothing too bad, but I did talk about your ear a lot, so I feel I have to cut that off. Just so I don't lose any of my credibility, you understand. If that doesn't work, I tried to brew some Veritaserum that I can give a shot. And I say tried to brew cause I'm rubbish at Potions, I mean yeah I passed the exams and everything, but it was by the nick of my ass hair if we're being honest with each other. So I don't know if it's actually going to make you tell the truth, or just start eating away the inside of your intestines until you're shitting nothing but blood for a few hours before dying from blood lose out your ass.

"Now, if that Veritaserum doesn't work and/or doesn't kill you, I'll go with Legilimency. And if you want to know the truth, I only know the basics of it, but just by looking at you I can tell you're too stupid to learn proper Occlumency. It might be a bit of a challenge at first but I have no doubt I'll be finding the answers I need within a matter of minutes. Of course, since I only know the basics of Legilimency, it will be like a dragon in a apothecary. I will literally destroy your brain, leaving you nothing but a mentally dead, drooling mess who will have to be force fed with tubes the rest of your miserable life; not that you'll be aware of any of this of course, since your mind will be in the shitter. And honestly, I'm not going to mean to turn you into a fucking vegetable, its just that I really won't know what the fuck I'm doing and I'm not a gentle enough person to do anything but destroy everything I touch while inside your mind."

Harry had been looking at the space of the man's head as he listed off what he was going to do. Once he was done, he looked down on the man, who somehow looked paler than he previously had. Harry knew the man would snap. He could tell just by looking at him this man didn't have the stomach to go through anything. He just needed to push the man past the breaking point.

"Anything to say before I start?" Harry asked.

The man frantically shook his head, his words coming out muffled from behind the gag over his mouth. Harry didn't need to know what the words were to know what was being pleaded. That he had the wrong guy. That he was asking for information that wasn't known. Harry knew that was all false. He had captured the man during a shakedown of a shop owner in France's magical section. He had charged into the store, taking the three mafia members by surprise. As soon as one of them was knocked out of the fight, Harry had grabbed the fallen man and made his escape. He only needed one for questioning.

"Right, like I said, I'll start with the ear."

Harry flicked his wand upwards and a thin beam of blue light flew from his wand and connected with the side of the man's head. With a spray of blood, the ear was cut cleanly off and fell to the ground.

The man screamed in agony and Harry had to turn away to hide the grimace on his face. Merlin's hairy testicles he wasn't prepared for what just happened. A bit of bile rose in his throat but he pushed it back down. He was an Areani now, not a school boy.

He turned back toward the man, his wand raised again but the man made a pleading noise. He was shaking his head, trying to say something through the gag. Harry paused in his movement ,and lowered the gag again with his magic.

"What do you want to know?" the man all but shouted between his cries of pain.

Forty minutes later, Harry was sitting in his living room at the cellphone provided for him from Rick. He opened it up and dialed the only number in it.

"Hey Rick? I need to drop off a … criminal … for processing. Also, do you have some spare Veritaserum?"

Harry sat outside a small cafe near a trunk shop that was owned by Lysander Malfoy. It was one of the legitimate businesses the Dragon Mafia used as a front to what they really did behind closed doors. His interrogation of that man last week had revealed to him something new he was trying to look into. It was clear that the information he was looking for in regards to the new thing would have to come from someone a bit higher up than a regular soldier.

That was why he found himself where he was now. It was hard to gather information without giving yourself away. He spent the majority of his time outside Dragon Mafia run businesses, waiting for important members to visit. So far he had been unsuccessful, and was debating whether or not he should try his luck with breaking into one of their houses.

He took a sip of the butterbeer that sat on the table in front of him and leaned back casually in his chair. His sunglasses, their lenses completely black, hid his eyes and allowed him to shift his gaze from person to person, without his lingering on any one of them being known.

"Harry Potter?"

Harry tensed up slightly as he heard his name murmured a heavy French accent. There was no way anyone would be able to recognize him just by looking at him. Even his own friends had problems seeing through his disguise. Unless there was some super crazed French fan out there who spent hours a day staring at pictures of him. The thought nearly made him shudder.

Maybe his name was in the newspaper. He had read a few articles mentioning him recently. There was speculations as to what had happened to him. It had been discovered he had graduated from Hogwarts nineteen months early, and no one knew exactly where he was or what he was doing. Skeeter had printed an article speculating he was being trained to be part of an elite Hit-Wizard squad, which really wasn't far from the truth. Other rumors were more off the mark, including running away to the United States to marry some inane muggle celebrity.

Someone tapped him on his shoulder, and Harry resisted the urge to pull his wand and start cursing. He turned slowly to find himself staring at a small girl who looked vaguely familiar.

"Harry Potter?" she asked again, this time her voice louder.

Harry noticed a few heads turn at her words, curious looks on all of their faces. He smiled at her.

Rather than use the translation charm on his lips to put his words into French for him, he decided to put his training to the test and respond in French. "Je suis désolé Mademoiselle mais je suis clairemont pas Harry Potter."

The girl frowned at him as those who had turned to look, went back to their previous business. She went to speak again but Harry held up his finger, leaving her standing their with her mouth hanging open and her eyes blinking owlishly. He put his hand on the spare wand strapped to his hip and muttered a privacy spell. Nothing too complicated or hard to take down, but he would know the instant someone tried to circumvent it, as the magic of it was extremely sensitive to foreign magics.

Once Harry lowered his finger, the little girl spoke.

"You are Harry Potter," she stated, crossing her arms over her chest.

"And why do you say that?" Harry asked, playing dumb.

"Your magic. I would recognize it anywhere."

That stumped Harry. First thing he processed was that the little girl was an Aura Reader. The second was that it was impossible to recognize someone's magic unless having met that person before, usually more than once. How could this little girl recognize his magic when he had never been to France before?

Then it clicked.

"Gabrielle?" Harry asked.

She nodded her head enthusiastically, smiling widely at Harry's recognition of her. Veela, by nature, were Aura Readers. It was one of the many magical talents the magical beings possessed. It made sense that Gabrielle, despite only being one-quarter Veela, had the gift. He knew Fleur had it as well from the time they had spent training for the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

Last he had seen Gabrielle was two years ago, at the end of the Tri-Wizard tournament when he had said his good-bye to Fleur before Beuxbatons had left. While his practice sessions and time hanging out with the other champions during the tournament had led to good friendships with the other three, it didn't extend to family members. Besides the incident in the Black Lake, a casual greeting to Fleur and her family during a Hogsmeade weekend and the goodbye, he had no contact with Gabrielle. It was odd she was able to pick up on his magic so quickly while being so young.

He wondered idly why she wasn't at Beauxbatons. As far as he was aware she was eleven years old, or at least close to it. He didn't actually know if Beauxbatons started at eleven like Hogwarts did, or even when their school year took place. He did know it was located in southern France, somewhere near the coast but that was based off of their school uniforms and conversations had with Fleur.

"Where are your parents?" Harry asked, looking around. Last thing he needed was an irate parent attacking him because he was some stranger talking to their little girl. He was trying to remain under the radar and being assaulted because someone thought he was trying to diddle their child wasn't exactly under the radar.

"Mama is in the bathroom."

Harry nodded his head. "Right. Listen Gabrielle, no one can know I am here. That is why I look so different, so people don't recognize me."

"Are you hiding?" Gabrielle asked, her voice coming out in a whisper.

"Yes. I need to stay hidden from bad people okay? So don't tell anyone I'm here."

"I promise!" she stated, holding her hand up in the air with a solemn look on her face.

Harry contemplated obliviating her but mentally shook his head. He wasn't going to fuck around with the mind of an eleven year old. Instead he smiled at her and nodded his head.

"Thank you Gabrielle. I knew I could count on you. Now I believe your mom will be exiting the bathroom soon, and might be a bit worried if she doesn't see you waiting outside for her."

Gabrielle's eyes widened at the prospect and she turned to leave before hesitating. "Can you write me Harry? Fleur had a penpal from Egypt she would write to all the time, and I was so envious. I want a penpal as well."

Harry resisted the urge to sigh. "Of course Gabrielle. I'll write to you in a few days."

She gave him a big smile before walking into the interior of the cafe. The privacy ward he had erected burst as she walked through it, and Harry ran his hand through his hair. Almost outed by a pre-teen; Hufflepuff's tits would that have been an embarrassing story to explain to Rick.

He sat back down at the cafe and grabbed his butterbeer, chugging the remainder of it. He wished it was firewhiskey but had decided against it earlier. Now he was regretting his decision. He contemplated waiving down the waitress. His identification said he was nineteen, despite what he may look like. Since it was Goblin made, it would be as authentic as if it was the real thing.

However, before he could make up his mind, he was granted a bit of luck when he saw his target enter into the trunk shop. First time in almost two weeks he had spotted the man. It was the caporegime for the area, Alain de Grace. He was followed by three of his soldiers. That would make four of them and the man who worked behind the counter, an associate of the Dragon Mafia to be sure, but not a soldier.

Harry waited a moment before getting up and walking into the trunk shop. The show room was full of trunks of all designs and had a counter against the back wall. Standing behind the counter was the man who actually worked at the shop. The others were no where to be seen.

He asked, in French, if Harry needed any help. Harry shook his head, letting the man know he was just browsing. He looked over the trunks, feigning interest in the designs as he made his way closer to the front. He moved up to the counter, and inquired about a trunk that rested on the shelves behind the man. As the man turned to fetch the trunk so Harry could get a better look, Harry flicked his wand into his hand and stunned the man.

He moved quickly around the counter, tapping the man's forehead with his phoenix feather wand, erasing his presence from the man's memories. Moving the man farther along the counter, in case he needed the mobility, Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple small obsidian stones and a piece of dragon bone. He banished the stones to the far reaches of the room and muttered a few words in Gaelic as he prodded the piece of dragon bone with his wand.

In a flash, his flimsy anti-apparition and anti-portkey wards sprung into existence. Nothing that couldn't get taken down in less than a minute of trying, he just didn't plan on giving the men in the back room any chance to take it down.

He reached into the pocket of his robes again and pulled out what muggles called a flashbang. While anyone with magic couldn't use firearms, that didn't mean other muggle inventions couldn't be used. He tapped the door leading into the backroom, making it transparent. The only thing that greeted his sight was a workshop. Which meant there was another room hidden somewhere in the back.

He flicked his wand at the front door, locking it, before moving into the workshop. Harry casually tossed the flashbang up in the air before catching it, as he observed his surroundings. There was nothing to indicate another room could be hidden somewhere.

"Homenem revelio," he muttered.

Nothing popped up. That meant either the men had left through a back door, or the room they were currently in was warded. He was inclined to believe the second one. He just needed to find the wards, which wasn't too hard of a thing to do.

It took a few moments but he managed to find the wards, and found to his surprise, that it wasn't a secret room at all, but rather one of the trunks. Rather ingenious of them if he was being honest. That powerful of an enchantment would be hard to maintain and would need to be powered regularly, as the magic was constantly fighting against the basic laws of physics.

He wondered if the men in the trunk would be able to tell if the trunk was moved.

Harry was a big fan of his new trunk. It was the perfect place to store things he didn't have room for in his loft; things like four members of the Dragon Mafia. The whole pouring half his power into it in the mornings to prevent the expansion charms from failing was a tidbit annoying, but it was a sacrifice he was willing to make.

While his conjuring ability was well beyond his age, he didn't trust that if he himself had made the cells to contain them, the cells wouldn't just disappear over time. Instead he had purchased some large dog crates, like the ones you would find at a kennel, and had strengthened them with some basic wards and enchantments. The four men were awake and fed regularly, but bitched more than Harry thought possible. Between the threats that Harry had no idea who he was messing with, to the attempted bribing of all the power and gold they could to give, to the simple pleading for their freedom, they rarely shut up when he was down there.

He was currently waiting on Rick to come through with the Veritaserum. While he figured some questioning, some torturing and a bit of legilimency to read the surface thoughts would be enough on the enforcers, it was the caporegime he needed answers from. The man was tougher, both mentally and physically, than the men who did the muscle work. Of course, he had to be if he wanted to be the leading man for the Dragon Mafia in Paris and it's out lying suburbs, towns and villages.

The little cafe he had been using to survey the trunk shop was still visited every day. He wanted to see any kind of reaction from the Dragon Mafia, and he needed to maintain some kind of cover. While your average person wouldn't think twice of a new guy showing up for a week and a half and visiting the same place everyday before disappearing when something happened in a shop across the street, a person investigating the situation would find it suspicious. From the waitress, who was prone to gossip, he learned a pair of French Chevaliers, their equivalent of Aurors, had been at the trunk shop all afternoon the day he had snatched the caporegime and his men. Most likely they were Chevaliers on the payroll.

A pecking at the balcony door grabbed his attention. A barn owl was staring at him with it's large eyes, head cocked to the side. He flicked his hand and opened the door. The owl flew in a circle before dropping the parcel pouch it carried in it's talons on the sofa and taking off out the way it came in.

He wondered briefly if Gabrielle had responded so quickly to his letter. He had promised the eleven year old he would write to her, and was a man of his word. The letter had been difficult for him to write. How did one converse with a preteen girl they didn't know? Why is it when he phrased it like that, it sounded really creepy? He had asked some basic questions he figured would get Gabrielle to respond enough where he could go off of her answers in his next letter.

Moving to the parcel, Harry noticed that it was a vial with a small piece of parchment rolled around it. Picking it up, he pulled the parchment off and read brief letter. It was from Rick and the vial was Veritaserum. Reading the letter, he nodded his head and squeezed the vial in his hand with a grin.

It was only a minute later he sat opposite the caporegime, who was currently tied to a chair. Glazed eyes stared at Harry, his posture slack and his head hanging slightly forward.

"What is your name?"

"Alain de Grace."

"What is your position in the Dragon Mafia?"

"Caporegime for the capital region."

Harry nodded his head. He needed some basic questions to test the serum.

"Are there Death Eaters in the French Ministry of Magic?"

"Yes."

"Who are they?"

"I don't know."

Harry cursed. His hope was the caporegime of the Paris region would know the identity to the Death Eaters in the French magical government. While the man had confirmed what the henchmen he had tortured had admitted to hearing rumors of, it was not the kind of information he was looking for.

"How do you know there are Death Eaters in the French Ministry of Magic?"

"There is one main Death Eaters who is our communication link with the Dark Lord. It was mentioned on several occasions that this Death Eater works for the Ministry."

"Communication link for the alliance you are hoping to forge with him?"

"Yes."

"Do you know what position these Death Eaters hold in the Ministry?"

"No."

"Does anyone know anything about these Death Eaters?"

"Lysander Malfoy."

There was no way he'd be able to get Lysander Malfoy. Besides the fact that the man was an Underboss in the Dragon Mafia and was constantly surrounded by guards, the Head of the Malfoy family lived in a heavily warded house and was quite the powerful duelist.

That gave him two options. The first was to infiltrate the Dragon Mafia and worm his way up the ranks until he became close with Lysander Malfoy. The second option was to gain access to the French Ministry and its employees until he could decipher who was a Death Eater, and who wasn't. Either way would be a risk and difficult to handle. Taking away the go between to Voldemort would delay the forming of the alliance.

"These Death Eaters, are they Frenchman or are they Englishmen?"

"They are French."

"How goes the negotiations for the alliance?"

"Slow."

"Why?"

"The Don worries that the Dark Lord might view us as a means to an end and not an actual alliance. He wants the Dark Lord to prove they will be equals."

Harry stunned the man, hearing all he needed to at the moment. He sighed, running his hand down his face. He pulled out the cellphone from his pocket.

Rick sat on the couch as he looked over the parchments Harry had provided to him a few minutes ago. Being an Areani also came with paperwork, as he filled out several forms and written down any information that he had deemed important.

"Death Eaters in the French Ministry?" Rick murmured.

"They're the messengers for Voldemort and the Dragon Mafia," Harry stated from where he stood by the kitchen counter, a butterbeer in his hands.

"Reports are indicating the Death Eaters are alarmed at the kidnapping of monsier de Grace. While not an Underboss, he was still a high up figure in the Dragon Mafia, given the area he was in charge of. The Dragon Mafia has been knocking down the door of rival gangs and crime families in the area trying to find an answer. However, this delay will be but a speed bump in the forming of the alliance."

Harry nodded his head in understanding. "I need to take down these French Death Eaters. Cause a bigger delay."

"How do you plan on doing that? We don't want the French Ministry to know of your operation on their soil."

"I need access to the French Ministry," Harry explained. "I need a resume good enough for a job that will allow me access to everyone."

Rick rubbed his chin in thought. "I can get that for you. What of the four men you hold in the trunk? Are you looking to keep them?"

"No," Harry answered with a shake of his head. "Keeping an eye on them is more trouble than it's worth. You can take them. Just make sure I have access to de Grace if I have some questions."

"Done."

Waving his wand, Rick made copies of Harry's paperwork. He picked up the copies and put them into a suitcase that appeared out of thin air on the coffee table. Rick stood, gripping the suitcase in his non-wand hand.

"I'll send a Knight team to get them by the weekend."

"How are they doing?"

It was two weeks since he had left Britain; another six weeks of training for the Knights. They were still two and a half months in real time from being done with their scheduled training and being used as Diggory envisioned.

"Fine. They're being used for basic things right now, to slowly get them out into the field."

Harry nodded his head. It made sense. A simple prisoner escort would be easy enough to see how the basic teamwork between them was. Most of them were still teenagers, best to slowly ease them into the field. Diggory wanted to use them as an elite fighting force for the British Ministry of Magic but it would be years before they'd be able to properly take on the stronger Death Eaters in large numbers.

Rick made his way toward the door. "You'll get your acceptance to a job at the French Ministry in the coming days."

The younger members were getting restless. Moody could see it every time he saw the groups practice. Everyone had joined the Order because it allowed them to keep their day jobs but still help out in the fight against Voldemort. There hadn't been any need for them yet though. His Cloak and Dagger teams had picked off a handful of targets but no one truly high up. The Rapid Response Teams (RRT) hadn't been able to see any action because the only time the Death Eaters had done anything was the attack on the muggles the other week, and those had been over with before the Ministry even knew they had started.

The main fight was going on in Eastern Europe, with things being relatively quiet in the United Kingdom. While the youngsters might be itching for a fight, he was using the time to improve on the fighting and group tactics of everyone. When the first battle took place and they went out there, if they didn't work as a team, then there wouldn't be a second battle. He made sure to drill that into them every chance he had.

A recruitment amongst the dueling circuit had brought in enough members for him to have two teams of ten, and one team of nine. That included the two new Healers that had joined their cause thanks to the persuasive efforts of Vance and Coates. He had the three Cloak and Dagger teams as the reserve unit. They would monitor the fight and go in when needed, whether it be to assist an overwhelmed team or drag out wounded comrades.

Gryffindor Manor, which Dumbledore allowed them to use as he was out of the country, had come in great use. The dueling room and lawns were used to practice. The sitting room closes to the entry way had been turned into their makeshift infirmary, stocked with potions, balms and salves. One of the large studies he had converted into a war room. The guest rooms were used frequently by members after late meetings or an intense practice session. The house elves were of great service and provided them with all the assistance and food needed to keep things running smoothly.

Moody currently sat in the war room, looking over reports from what was going on in Eastern Europe. He often questioned his decision to remain behind, to lead the Order in the United Kingdom while the real fighting went on thousands of miles away. He was going to be leading a group of fighters that consisted of a majority of young adults in their late teens or early twenties.

It reminded him eerily of the last war and all the friends he had lost. The Potters, the Bones, the Longbottoms, the Prewett twins and countless others. Most of whom hadn't even reached their magical maturation; hadn't even reached their full potential as witches and wizards. They had lost some of the greatest talent of that generation; prodigies in transfiguration, charms, potions and runes. Magical society as a whole took a hit with the loss of talent, and he was sure it was bound to happen again.

Suddenly Moody felt something in his pocket vibrate. He reached in and pulled out a small hand held mirror; something Black had introduced to the Ministry to improve communication. Amelia Bones' stern face stared at him from the other side.

"Got another group of attacks, started less than a minute ago. I could use the Order's help."

"We'll be there in five," Moody grunted.

"Hit-Wizard Base Alpha."

With that Bones was gone, and Moody found himself staring at his own scarred visage. He shoved the mirror back into his pocket and grasped at the phoenix pendant that hung from his neck.

Death Eater attack. You have three minutes to gather your shit and get here.

Time to put all that training to the test.