Chapter 28: Part 1
When I woke up the next morning, memories of the previous day hit me, and I immediately faced a headache.
"Why does my life suck so much?" I muttered to myself. It feels as though all my problems are coming at me at once, unlike what other main characters in their stories face. Be it Goku, Natsu, or that schizophrenic dude from Bleach, they all face one enemy after another!
And somehow they still got game, but I get the short end of the stick.
"Breathe in and breathe out," I told myself. "No need to start crying like a bitch just because things are not going the way I want them to. I have achieved quite a lot as it is! I am no longer the fugly Snape, but Heir Prince!"
I pulled myself out of bed and got ready for the day. Today was either going to be an extremely amazing day, or it would be the day I ended the world. For this special day, I ought to dress properly. I picked up a vibrant green suit with silver contours. Why? Because green symbolizes new beginnings, and this day, before it is over, will change everything—everything! I laid my robes on the bed before I went on to get ready.
I splashed some water on my face, trying to wash away the remnants of sleep and the lingering frustration. The cold water did little to alleviate my tension, but it helped clear my mind, if only slightly. I dressed quickly, my thoughts already racing ahead to the tasks at hand.
"Today, hopefully everything will change," I whispered to myself. Yeah, suck it and call me insane, but this self-motivation bullshit actually works. It makes all your worries melt away, but in a good way—not the way you forget about them just because you're drunk as fuck and hooking up with a land whale, only to realize later on that she was not Megan Fox.
Been there, done that!
First job on today's agenda: checking in with the idiots in Knockturn Alley. If there are any leads on the Godfather, that's where I'd find them. Game knows game, but in this case, lowlife knows lowlife. I will find out who is behind the attacks on my operations and, more importantly, why the fucker has targeted me.
As I made my way through the house, I noticed my grandparents in the kitchen. Gramps was sneakily reading the Daily Prophet, his brow furrowed in concentration, while Grandma was bustling around, preparing breakfast with a noticeable blush.
I smelled the air and detected the scent of sex. More disturbingly, I heard a faint vibrating sound and looked at my grandparents, mortified.
'Fucking horny old people! Give me a goddamn break!' I thought in disgust but decided not to comment on it aloud. Seems like the old man has managed to get into her panties. I do wonder how he pulled that one off.
"Morning, Grandma. Morning, Gramps," I greeted them, trying to sound more cheerful and less disgusted than I felt.
"Morning, Sev!" Grandma beamed at me, her earlier excitement still lingering in her eyes. Gramps looked up from his paper and gave me a nod with a dirty smirk on his face.
"Got a lot on your plate today, Sev?" Gramps asked, his tone neutral but with a hint of concern.
"Yeah, just need to follow up on a few things," I replied, grabbing a piece of toast. "I'll be out for most of the day, but I'll check in later after I deal with those bastards."
"Severus Ulysses Prince, no cursing in my home!" Grandma scolded, throwing a stinging hex at me and tugging on my ear.
"Sorry!" I replied, feigning pain. Such a curse couldn't really affect me, but I didn't want to antagonize her.
"Be careful out there," Gramps said, his eyes locking onto mine. "You're dealing with dangerous people."
"Always am," I replied with a smirk. I wasn't truly bothered by whoever this Godfather was; it was just annoying because he was showing me up. Sure, I picked up some lowlifes and didn't train them or help them in any way except giving them jobs. But still, it was infuriating to have my operations dismantled after barely getting them off the ground.
I stepped outside, the crisp morning air biting at my skin. Welcome to Britain, where the weather is shit 360 out of 365 days a year. With a deep breath, I Apparated to the edge of Knockturn Alley. The narrow, winding streets were seemingly dead, but if you knew where to look, you'd see shadows moving around. I made my way deep into the alley, moving past Borgin and Burkes, until I reached a shop named 'Infeliciste'.
That's one shitty-ass wordplay if you ask me, but it ain't my shop, so I don't give a crap.
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As I entered the dimly lit shop, the bell above the door jingled softly. An old lady looked up from behind the counter, her expression one of mild surprise, and recognition.
"Ah, young Prince. What brings you to my humble establishment today?" She asks, her voice oily and smooth.
'Is this hag flirting with me?!' I question my own sanity.
"I need information, Lady Beau. Specifically, about the Godfather. Heard any whispers?"
Lady Beau's eyes narrow, and she leans in slightly. "The Godfather, you say? That's a name not many dare to utter. What's it worth to you?"
The old Bitch is a menace to all men on the planet, I know from a certain source that she goes out and bangs teenage boys while drinking Polyjuice, and she times it to transorm mid action.
Like, how messed up do you gotta be to mess with guys like that?! The poor boy will never get a hard on anymore or will be mentally and emotionally scarred for life.
It may also be possible that it is one of those sick fucks who develops a fetish for grannies.
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "You'll be well compensated, as always. Now, what do you know?"
She considered this for a moment before finally nodding. "I've just heard rumors, nothing concrete. You know how it is; they say he's been making moves, targeting certain... enterprises. The man is hunting for a wolf. Apparently, yours wouldn't be knowing more, right? I'd be paying for information on the wolf. Anyway, if you want specifics, you might want to look for a man named Silas. He's got his ear to the ground, and his dick everywhere."
"Thanks, Lady Beau. Keep this between us," I said, turning to leave, but not before tossing a pouch of coins onto her table.
"Always a pleasure doing business with you, young Prince," she called after me.
As I exited the shop, a sliver of disgust crept over me. I always feel naked in front of that old fossil, and this man named Silas... well, he will either have the answers I need, or I will just take my frustration out on him.
'I paid a fortune, and he better be worth it!' I thought, annoyed.
The Black Market was hidden deep within the labyrinth of Knockturn Alley, a place where the truly dark dealings took place. Technically, this whole part of the Alley is dark in a way because nobody has bothered to clean up the place or install any light. But the Black Market is a different breed of bullshit altogether. I moved through the twisted and turned paths until I found the entrance, a nondescript door that led to a hidden underground network of vendors and traders.
The Black Market is disgusting, well for many reasons, but the reason I feel disgusted is the stench. We are literally walking through shit and piss, and the people that are working here are the idiots.
Like those who botch up playing with magic and end up mutating, an animagus ritual gone wrong here, a Polyjuice Potion fuckery there, or some other insane bullshit they were trying to pull out of their asses that has come back to bite them in said ass.
As for the rest they're degenarates of the highest order, people who want a certai animal to eat, copulate with, or just looking to find people willing to do anything for money.
Silas as I came to find out is a well known figure here, a man who deals in information. I spotted him at a corner stall, in an extremely desolate paart of the market, his eyes scanning the crowd in the distance with a lethargic and bored gaze.
As for his appearance, well, he is ugly and smells like sweat urin, and other bodily fluids. If I had not developed a tolerance over the years I'd be vomiting my heart out right now.
"Silas," I called out to him, stepping up to his stall.
He looked at me, recognition flickering in his eyes. "Prince?! What brings a noble down to these depths?"
"I need information on the Godfather," I said bluntly. "I hear you might be able to help."
Silas leaned back, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "The Godfather, huh? That's a dangerous name to be throwing around. But I might know a thing or two. What's in it for me?"
I closed the distance between us, grabbed him by his oily, greasy hair, and slammed his face into the wooden table he was sitting at.
"Your life!" I offered.
He nodded slowly, blood trickling from his broken nose. "Alright! Alright! One of his minions came around a few months ago asking about some asshole calling himself the Big Bad Wolf. I don't know who the man or woman behind the name is! No one does!"
"Any idea how I can find him?" I pressed.
Silas shook his head. "That, I don't know either. But I do know he operates through intermediaries and recruiters. Find them, and you might get closer to him. Start with a man named Marcus. He's been seen around the docks, handling shipments. Might be a good place to start."
"Thanks, Silas. You've been a great help," I said, breaking the man's neck.
The fucker is not working for me, also I am sure first thing after I leave his shitty ass corner of the Black Market is him going on to sell information about me to the bastard!
There's a saying about secrets: the best secrets are kept by dead people.
Maybe I'm just losing any sense of morality and becoming more and more driven by instinct like an animal.
*Sigh*
'Yeah, no use sweating the small stuff! Let's just deal with the problem at hand!'
As I left the Black Market, I felt both annoyed and relieved. Annoyed because I could have handled that better than by killing the bloke, and relieved because I was finally getting out of that fart-infested marketplace.
After leaving the market, I made my way to Gringotts, the holy place of legalized thievery—a bank. If you want to be a true master at taking people's money and getting away with it, become a bank worker. You can lose people's money, and politicians will give you a blowjob and help you get away with it! Ignoring my disgust for the place and its employees, I entered the imposing bank, built with stolen money. I spotted a group of goblins awaiting me. They were as ugly as ever. I mean, toilet paper that I use to wipe my ass with looks better than these fucks. Their beady eyes gleamed with a mixture of greed and apprehension.
As I moved closer, one of the goblins stepped out of the group and approached me. "Good day, Heir Prince. I am Farfadet, at your service."
"Hello, Mr. Farfadet," I replied, eyeing the group. "I take it these are the people that will get the job done?"
"The very same, and the best ones we have!" he declared with a toothy grin. "All have signed the contracts, and the land you wanted has also been purchased."
'Holy fuck, look at those teeth!' I thought, shocked when I saw the row of sharp, small teeth.
"Okay then, let us go," I say, eager to get started, and get done with it.
"Please touch this," Farfadet instructed, handing me the end of a rope. "To long-lasting friendship."
Well, that's an unorthodox key phrase, but I knew it was his way of declaring his intentions openly. I grasped the rope, and with a sudden jolt, the Portkey activated, dragging us all to our destination.
We landed in a dilapidated shack in the middle of nowhere. The air was thick with the scent of decay and neglect.
"The Gaunts' shack! Well, now it is your Shack!" Farfadet said, shaking his head in disdain.
I glanced around, taking in the surroundings. The place was a mess, but that was to be expected given its history. The Gaunt family had fallen into ruin long ago, and their home reflected that decay. And Moldy had done his part in ending this lineage, but so what? They were assholes anyway.
"Alright, let's get started," I said, turning to the goblins. "You all know what to do. Secure the area, find me the ring, and deal with any and all curses. I don't want to die when I visit my new property."
The goblins nodded, immediately spreading out to begin their work. They moved with surprising efficiency, setting up wards and enchantments to protect the shack and its surroundings before entering.
Farfadet approached me again, his expression serious. "We will ensure this place is secure and running, Heir Prince. But I must ask, what exactly do you need the Heir Ring of the Gaunt Family for, and what are you planning to do here?"
I gave him a sly smile. "That, Mr. Farfadet, is something that does not concern you. For now, just focus on making sure no one can get in or out without my say-so, and find that damned ring."
He nodded, accepting my response. Goblins were used to dealing with secrecy, intrigue, and impolite customers, and Farfadet was no exception. He turned and barked orders to his team, ensuring that every inch of the property was protected and searched.
As the day wore on, the shack began to transform. The goblins' magic worked wonders, repairing the structure and reinforcing it with powerful wards. By the time they were finished, the Gaunt shack was no longer a decrepit ruin but a fortress of sorts, hidden from prying eyes.
"Impressive work," I said, surveying the results. "This will do nicely."
Farfadet inclined his head. "We aim to please, Heir Prince. Is there anything else you require?"
"The ring," I replied. I was only here for the ring, or rather the stone grafted within it, but I allowed the goblins to focus on another job, one to take their minds off the ring.
Finally, I heard the agonizing cry of the goblin dumb enough to fall victim to Moldy's compulsion.
"Is this how it usually goes?" I asked Farfadet, who was standing next to me.
"Well, there are always some casualties. Normally, we first send Wixen in to trigger all the traps, but today, due to your presence, we have to take a different approach," Farfadet replied.
"It seems there is a slight misunderstanding between us, Mr. Farfadet," I said.
"Huh?" He looked at me questioningly.
"I don't give a flying fuck about other Wixen or if you abuse them, send them to their death, or whatever the fuck it is you have them do for you," I replied bluntly.
"But your—" he started, but I interrupted him.
"They have their uses, and that's why I use them! I do not need, nor do I care enough, to go out of my way to change their fate."
"I understand," Farfadet said, and I could see him smirk, revealing once more his sharp teeth.
'Disgusting!'
"What about you?" I asked.
"About me, Heir Prince?" he asked, confused.
"What is your relation with the King? Have you ever thought of taking more power for yourself?" I asked, skipping past the scheming.
"Me? A king? I could not. He is my late brother's son," he replied, astonished.
"Sure, you'd be a better King than that idiot! With my help, you'd be able to take over in as short as half a decade, or as long as a decade at most, depending on how brutal you want the takeover to be," I replied, making him look at me intently.
"Why would you suggest such a thing?" he asked cautiously.
"Your current King is an idiot! One whom I have no trust in," I replied. "The moron thought it a good idea to invite and attack me."
"That is indeed the case," he agreed.
"And there is no way I will work with a man that has tried to backstab me once, even though he failed," I explained.
"But—"
"Yes, my letter indicated otherwise, right? I told you as long as someone has their uses, I shall use them. And now you get to make a choice," I explained.
"I see," Farfadet said, realization dawning on him.
The goblin understood that the choice was quite simple. I was financially bleeding all three Goblin Nations, and I am only willing to work with someone who is useful to me and trustworthy. My offer to make him King was my appreciation for his attempt at diplomacy and me giving them a lifeline. Should he decline my offer, I would simply work with another nation and bleed the other two dry.
"Lucky for me these morons do not know that my operations have taken a major hit, and that my coffers are about empty," I thought happily.
*Sigh*
'Being a badass crime lord is not as easy as I thought!' I concluded mentally.
With the offer made, Farfadet and I watched as the goblins continued to clear the area of all traps. Their efficiency was remarkable, even though some of them died, and I knew that once this was done, I would have what I needed.
"Let's move," I commanded. "I want that ring, and I want it now. Meanwhile, you can contemplate my offer."
Farfadet nodded, and we proceeded deeper into the Gaunts' shack. The air was thick with dust and the lingering smell of mold. Finally, we approached the figure lying on the ground, half charred and lifeless.
"There it is," I said, pointing to the idiot's right hand.
Farfadet gestured to his team, and they quickly got to work. It wasn't long before the ring was removed from the idiot's finger, revealing the ancient ring with the Resurrection Stone embedded within it.
I reached out and carefully took the box containing the ring, feeling the weight of its history and power. This was the final piece of the puzzle, and I wasn't going to let it slip through my fingers.
"Good work," I said to Farfadet. "Now, let's get out of here before more trouble finds us."
As they activated the Portkey, I apparated back to Prince Manor. I couldn't help but feel a surge of satisfaction.
"One final step," I spoke to myself.
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Greetings Everyone,
Let us not be greedy, and just share them stones with me, okay?!
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