The Diadone Method

Chapter One – The Acquisition


Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling therefore Harry Potter does not belong to me.

Edited: Sep 30, 2013

I am editing this as I myself reread it so that I can avoid continuity errors etc. as I continue the story.


If there was one thing Salvator Zito Diadone hated more than cheaters and thieves who got caught, it was children. Children were rude and obnoxious, they got in the way and ignored you, they made a mess and worst of all, they were loud.

Salvator's theory was proving true as he sat in his limo waiting at a red light in downtown London. He had just come from a rather personal meeting during which more than a few lives had been threatened and large sums of money had been exchanged. Despite the fact that all the windows were closed (and they were thick windows), he was being treated to the sound of a child's incessant whining for sweets from the car next to theirs. This wouldn't usually be a problem but they were stuck in terrible traffic that wasn't even crawling, not a place London's richest man liked to be.

That's right, Salvator Zito Diadone was no less than the head of the most feared Mafia in all of Great Britain (and quite respected throughout Europe). As such, he usually avoided mid-day traffic like the plague; however, this particular task had needed to be performed personally and without delay. Hence, stuck in traffic listening to an annoying child cry like no tomorrow.

Finally, Salvator got fed up; there is only so much a man can take before going insane, especially if that man is used to getting his way. Sal rolled down his window – something his bodyguards were continually telling him not to do – and assessed the situation to see if there was anything he could do to get the bloody thing to shut the fuck up.

Right next to his limo was a medium-sized sedan with it's windows wide open. In the front seat there was a dark haired woman who greatly resembled a stork, and in the back were two children; one in a very expensive looking designer car seat and the other in rather tatty booster seat that was way too large for it. The two boys looked to be about three or four years old.

The source of the insistent noise quickly became obvious, it was coming from the fattest child Salvator had ever had the misfortune to look upon; the thing was yelling at the top of it's lungs for sweets which really was quite disturbing. Sal took one look at the situation and, because they weren't moving at the moment, yelled at the mother.

"Will you shut that bloody kid up? Or at least roll up the windows so the rest of us don't have to listen to it?" With that he rolled up his tinted window and watched from the semi-quite of his limo.

The mother whipped her skinny head around so fast she would probably have whiplash for the next week, the look on her face was priceless. However, when she turned around, instead of turning her attention on the crying kid, she backhanded the quite child and told it off for disturbing her "Diddy Darling Duddykins".

Then, with a panicked expression on her face she looked around at the other drivers to see if anyone had caught her hitting the child. When she saw that no one was paying her any attention – she couldn't see Sal through his window – she hit the child twice more, a bit harder and told him to shut up or else. The child didn't cry out or make a single noise, in fact, he barely reacted at all.

Salvator blinked twice and then looked closer at the smaller, darker haired boy, his face was covered in faint bruises. If it weren't for his keen observation skills, Sal wouldn't have noticed them at all as the boy's entire face seemed to have been covered with some sort make-up. The rest of the boy's body was completely covered in clothing despite the heat and Sal guessed that there were more bruises under them.

It was then that Sal found something he hated more than cheaters who got caught and children, an abused child. The smaller boy locked gazes with Salvator – even though he shouldn't have been able to see through the glass – and two bright green eyes seemed to cry out for help. Something snapped inside the hardened heart of the Mafia Lord and he radioed one of his men in the motorcycle guard.

"Vince, come in."

"Vince here, how can I help you, Sir?"

"See the silver sedan at eight o'clock?"

"Yes sir, the one with the children?"

"Yes. I want you to get that dark haired child out of there. Find out the mother's name and address and tell her that the boy is no longer her responsibility and if I ever find out that she has hit another child she will die a slow and painful death."

"Yes sir, consider it done. What would you like me to do with the boy?" If the guard was surprised at this request he didn't show it. After all, when you worked for someone like Salvator Diadone you were asked to do all sorts of strange things, it was in the job description.

"I will roll down the window and you can hand him to me." Sal had absolutely no idea why he was doing this except for the fact that the child hadn't stopped looking at him the entire time and something about him was calling to Sal.

"Yes sir." Vince said. He was completely baffled by his boss' behavior and was confused as to why he was having one of his bodyguards basically kidnap a child, but it really wasn't his place to ask questions. Vince had seen the mother hit the child but didn't know if Mr. Diadone had, or, if so, why he was doing something about it. However, he was glad that the boy was being rescued from an obviously abusive situation, no child should have to deal with that. Vince knew first hand what it was like to be abused as a kid and wouldn't wish that on his worst enemy's children. The enemy, yes, their children, no.

Vince pulled his motorcycle up next to the driver's door of the sedan and whacked on it with the butt of his gun. He made sure that the woman, and only the woman, could see the gun. She looked terrified.

"Wh-What do you want?" She asked shakily.

"I need to see your driver's license. Now." Vince said in a harsh tone.

The woman fumbled around in her bag before handing him her license.

"Okay, Petunia Dursley," He said venomously. "Here's what's going to happen; I'm going to write down your name and address, take that nice child of yours and hopefully you'll never see me again."

"WHAT?" Petunia screeched. "You can't take Dudley! He hasn't done anything!"

"You seem to be mistaken, I'm taking the nice one." Vince said. It was becoming quite obvious that the woman cared nothing for the dark haired boy so there shouldn't be many difficulties. When all he got was a blank look from her he shook his head. "The one with the dark hair?"

"Oh, you mean the freak." She said with a look of disgust. "You're welcome to him, take him and his freakyness as far away as you can."

Vince scowled, he was liking this woman less and less by the second, but because he could see the traffic moving a few blocks up, he made it quick. "Good. Now, what's his name?" He had already finished copying her details and figured that if Salvator wanted something with this child it would be a good idea to know who he was.

"His name is Harry. Harry James Potter."

"Birth date and place?"

"July 31st 1980, Godric's Hollow."

Vince wrote this all down and because the traffic moving had been a false alarm, he had time for a few more questions. "Okay, and who are his parents?"

"Those freaks are dead so I don't see what good it will do you." Petunia spat.

"Just tell me their names."

"Fine. Lily and James Potter. Now, are you taking the freak or what? We are sitting in the middle of traffic."

Vince scowled and put his notebook away. Petunia reached back and unlocked the door by Harry, Vince carefully pulled the child out. Then, he turned back and said, "Oh, by the way, if you even hit another child again, my associates and I will personally see to it that you and your entire family die a slow and painful death.

Salvator was waiting with the window open and Vince handed him Harry along with the page from his notebook. "There you go, sir." He knew better than to ask what it was about.

"Thank you, Vince. Now, I believe traffic is finally moving and your bike is in the middle of the road." With that he closed the window and they drove away, never to see Petunia Dursley again.


Author's note: Well, there you have it, I hope you liked it. If you have any input/advice/opinions please let me know via a review, us authors really like them.

Author's note (9/30): There you go, the start of the edit. I think I will do a few more today because I have a seriously large amount of time that is just screaming to be wasted.