Theirs was a friendship that started with a death.
Specifically, the death of Draco’s father.
On the night Lucius went flying over the northern parapet of Azkaban, his only son buried the hatchet with his worst enemy’s daughter.
They found themselves in the hospital wing together on that dreadful night. He was being treated for shock; she was being treated for hysteria, having caught Harry Potter in someone else’s bed in her own dormitory.
He’d been numb and she was as furious as hell. He heard her fuming in her cubicle, the one next to his. Then, when the screams subsided into sobs, he pushed the curtain back and sat at the foot of her bed.
“Would you mind keeping it down?” he asked. “I’m trying to sleep.” But there was none of his usual rancor in his words. Indeed, he was teasing her but lightly.
She stared up at him in consternation. He was sure she would have spat out something acerbic and snide if she weren’t so upset. But, when she saw the genuine concern in his eyes, she sat up and sighed.
“Sorry,” she apologized. “It’s just that, well…”
“I know. I heard the professors talking.” He cocked his head to one side. “But did you really hex Potter before you left your House tower?”
Ginny managed a rueful smile. “I’m afraid I did,” she admitted. “One of the Asian hexes Ami… I mean, Professor Sinagtala taught.”
Draco managed a faint smile. Given that she was barely a decade older than her oldest students, Professor Sinagtala allowed a privileged few to call her by her given name, Amihan. He supposed Ginny Weasley was one of them, seeing how the professor had been at school with her older brothers.
“Not Kossetsu?” he asked. “Or Fushôka, perhaps?”
“Worse: I did the Minikui hex on him.”
“You didn’t!” Draco was horrified and had good reason to be. Minikui was a Japanese hex that temporarily disfigured the face of its victim. “I thought you loved Potter, Weasley!”
“I thought so, too.” At first, Draco was afraid she would start crying again. “Is it wrong to outgrow the things – and people – we love?” she asked him.
Draco opened his mouth to reply, but thoughtfully closed it. “I don’t think it’s wrong,” he told her. He thought about how things had ended with Pansy Parkinson the previous summer.
***
“We’ve grown apart,” she said. She spent the summer going to every party she was invited to, shopping in Milan and Paris, and having as much fun as she could.
He, on the other hand, stayed home and looked over the paperwork for the family business. Thank Belenos for exposure to the corporate world! Lucius may have been a lousy father and an evil wizard, but at least he’d been a good businessman. Malfoy Works was in the black and that was a major relief.
“I don’t see what you mean,” he replied somewhat coolly. “I have been looking after our family’s lifeblood. Isn’t that a worthy thing to do?”
She cried and accused him of being cold and no fun at all. He, in turn, accused her of being shallow and feather-headed. It didn’t end well, of course.
Yet, he felt glad to be rid of her.
***
“It isn’t wrong,” he repeated, half to himself. “Sometimes, when things don’t feel right anymore, you have to let go and move on.”
She’d fallen silent and regarded him with a newfound respect.
“I would never have believed you could give such good advice, Draco,” she said, smiling faintly. “But, thanks.”
Draco, not Malfoy, he thought, surprised that she called him by his given name. Oddly enough, it sounded, well, right.
“Things will be better in the morning,” he told her. Then, on an impulse, he drew her close and kissed her forehead. “Get some sleep, Weas-…” He hesitated. “Sleep tight, Ginny.”
She looked startled as he got up to go back to his bed. To his surprise, she stood up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.
“Goodnight, Draco,” she whispered.
***
“Ohayo gozaimasu, Takarai-san,” Draco greeted the first customer of the day. “What can I do for you today?”
“Ne, ohayo, Malfoy-kun,” the short, dark-haired wizard replied. He handed Draco a prescription. “Just the usual for me: some Soothing Smoothie mix and a jar of Blemish Buster.”
“Blemish Buster? With your skin? You don’t need this, Takarai-san!”
The wizard laughed and pointed to the dark circles beneath his snapping black eyes. “Oh, but I do!” he chortled. “Too many late nights are taking their toll on me.”
Draco laughed as he handed the wizard a tiny porcelain jar and a small pouch. “I’d say cut down on the gigs, but that wouldn’t be right.”
“True! True!” Takarai grinned up at the blond potion-maker. “Why don’t you come on down to our live in Osaka on Friday night? I’ll ask Tetsu to give you tickets. Bring Haji-kun and Okabe-kun along; it’ll be fun.”
“You’ll have to go alone if you want to watch, Draco-kun.” With a loud pop, a tall, tanned Japanese wizard Apparated beside Draco. “My cousin and her fiancé are arriving on Friday. And you both know Okabe-kun: he probably has a new girlfriend.”
The three of them groaned, then burst laughing. Okabe, another young wizard of their acquaintance, had a one-track mind.
“I’ll let you and the guys know, Takarai-san,” Draco said as he accepted payment for Takarai’s order.
“Okay. I hope to see you there.” With an airy wave, Takarai Disapparated.
“That, my friend,” Hajime Nekomi drawled, “is one of the end results of too much in-breeding among purebloods.”
“Who? Takarai-san?”
Hajime nodded. “He's barely a couple inches over five feet tall. Would you believe he’s already thirty?”
“I would. I had a teacher at Hogwarts who was much shorter and he was pushing 120 while I was there.”
“Ah.”
The two young wizards busied themselves filling orders for the dozen or so customers who dropped by that morning.
Around noon, Hajime caught sight of a new face browsing through the racks and drawers.
“Ne, Draco-kun!” He nudged Draco in the ribs. “Isn’t that the girl in the picture on your piano?”
Draco looked up sharply and gasped. A petite redhead was studiously looking over their stock of dried flower buds and loose teas. She was dressed simply in a blue halter-necked sundress and strappy sandals with cork-wedge soles. Her skin was creamy and unblemished; the faint scattering of freckles across her nose seemed to enhance her beauty rather than mar it.
“Ginny?” he exclaimed, stepping out onto the selling floor. “Is it really you? I wasn’t expecting you till Friday!”
She turned and smiled tenderly at him. “Of course it’s me!" she exclaimed. “Who were you expecting, Draco? Millicent Bullstrode?”
Draco laughed as she threw herself into his arms. He held her tight, resting his cheek on her head.
“I couldn’t wait to see you,” she whispered, happily.
Hajime grinned cheekily at them.
“Well, it looks like you won’t be going to Takarai-san’s concert alone!” was all he had to say.
Specifically, the death of Draco’s father.
On the night Lucius went flying over the northern parapet of Azkaban, his only son buried the hatchet with his worst enemy’s daughter.
They found themselves in the hospital wing together on that dreadful night. He was being treated for shock; she was being treated for hysteria, having caught Harry Potter in someone else’s bed in her own dormitory.
He’d been numb and she was as furious as hell. He heard her fuming in her cubicle, the one next to his. Then, when the screams subsided into sobs, he pushed the curtain back and sat at the foot of her bed.
“Would you mind keeping it down?” he asked. “I’m trying to sleep.” But there was none of his usual rancor in his words. Indeed, he was teasing her but lightly.
She stared up at him in consternation. He was sure she would have spat out something acerbic and snide if she weren’t so upset. But, when she saw the genuine concern in his eyes, she sat up and sighed.
“Sorry,” she apologized. “It’s just that, well…”
“I know. I heard the professors talking.” He cocked his head to one side. “But did you really hex Potter before you left your House tower?”
Ginny managed a rueful smile. “I’m afraid I did,” she admitted. “One of the Asian hexes Ami… I mean, Professor Sinagtala taught.”
Draco managed a faint smile. Given that she was barely a decade older than her oldest students, Professor Sinagtala allowed a privileged few to call her by her given name, Amihan. He supposed Ginny Weasley was one of them, seeing how the professor had been at school with her older brothers.
“Not Kossetsu?” he asked. “Or Fushôka, perhaps?”
“Worse: I did the Minikui hex on him.”
“You didn’t!” Draco was horrified and had good reason to be. Minikui was a Japanese hex that temporarily disfigured the face of its victim. “I thought you loved Potter, Weasley!”
“I thought so, too.” At first, Draco was afraid she would start crying again. “Is it wrong to outgrow the things – and people – we love?” she asked him.
Draco opened his mouth to reply, but thoughtfully closed it. “I don’t think it’s wrong,” he told her. He thought about how things had ended with Pansy Parkinson the previous summer.
***
“We’ve grown apart,” she said. She spent the summer going to every party she was invited to, shopping in Milan and Paris, and having as much fun as she could.
He, on the other hand, stayed home and looked over the paperwork for the family business. Thank Belenos for exposure to the corporate world! Lucius may have been a lousy father and an evil wizard, but at least he’d been a good businessman. Malfoy Works was in the black and that was a major relief.
“I don’t see what you mean,” he replied somewhat coolly. “I have been looking after our family’s lifeblood. Isn’t that a worthy thing to do?”
She cried and accused him of being cold and no fun at all. He, in turn, accused her of being shallow and feather-headed. It didn’t end well, of course.
Yet, he felt glad to be rid of her.
***
“It isn’t wrong,” he repeated, half to himself. “Sometimes, when things don’t feel right anymore, you have to let go and move on.”
She’d fallen silent and regarded him with a newfound respect.
“I would never have believed you could give such good advice, Draco,” she said, smiling faintly. “But, thanks.”
Draco, not Malfoy, he thought, surprised that she called him by his given name. Oddly enough, it sounded, well, right.
“Things will be better in the morning,” he told her. Then, on an impulse, he drew her close and kissed her forehead. “Get some sleep, Weas-…” He hesitated. “Sleep tight, Ginny.”
She looked startled as he got up to go back to his bed. To his surprise, she stood up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.
“Goodnight, Draco,” she whispered.
***
“Ohayo gozaimasu, Takarai-san,” Draco greeted the first customer of the day. “What can I do for you today?”
“Ne, ohayo, Malfoy-kun,” the short, dark-haired wizard replied. He handed Draco a prescription. “Just the usual for me: some Soothing Smoothie mix and a jar of Blemish Buster.”
“Blemish Buster? With your skin? You don’t need this, Takarai-san!”
The wizard laughed and pointed to the dark circles beneath his snapping black eyes. “Oh, but I do!” he chortled. “Too many late nights are taking their toll on me.”
Draco laughed as he handed the wizard a tiny porcelain jar and a small pouch. “I’d say cut down on the gigs, but that wouldn’t be right.”
“True! True!” Takarai grinned up at the blond potion-maker. “Why don’t you come on down to our live in Osaka on Friday night? I’ll ask Tetsu to give you tickets. Bring Haji-kun and Okabe-kun along; it’ll be fun.”
“You’ll have to go alone if you want to watch, Draco-kun.” With a loud pop, a tall, tanned Japanese wizard Apparated beside Draco. “My cousin and her fiancé are arriving on Friday. And you both know Okabe-kun: he probably has a new girlfriend.”
The three of them groaned, then burst laughing. Okabe, another young wizard of their acquaintance, had a one-track mind.
“I’ll let you and the guys know, Takarai-san,” Draco said as he accepted payment for Takarai’s order.
“Okay. I hope to see you there.” With an airy wave, Takarai Disapparated.
“That, my friend,” Hajime Nekomi drawled, “is one of the end results of too much in-breeding among purebloods.”
“Who? Takarai-san?”
Hajime nodded. “He's barely a couple inches over five feet tall. Would you believe he’s already thirty?”
“I would. I had a teacher at Hogwarts who was much shorter and he was pushing 120 while I was there.”
“Ah.”
The two young wizards busied themselves filling orders for the dozen or so customers who dropped by that morning.
Around noon, Hajime caught sight of a new face browsing through the racks and drawers.
“Ne, Draco-kun!” He nudged Draco in the ribs. “Isn’t that the girl in the picture on your piano?”
Draco looked up sharply and gasped. A petite redhead was studiously looking over their stock of dried flower buds and loose teas. She was dressed simply in a blue halter-necked sundress and strappy sandals with cork-wedge soles. Her skin was creamy and unblemished; the faint scattering of freckles across her nose seemed to enhance her beauty rather than mar it.
“Ginny?” he exclaimed, stepping out onto the selling floor. “Is it really you? I wasn’t expecting you till Friday!”
She turned and smiled tenderly at him. “Of course it’s me!" she exclaimed. “Who were you expecting, Draco? Millicent Bullstrode?”
Draco laughed as she threw herself into his arms. He held her tight, resting his cheek on her head.
“I couldn’t wait to see you,” she whispered, happily.
Hajime grinned cheekily at them.
“Well, it looks like you won’t be going to Takarai-san’s concert alone!” was all he had to say.
Author notes: Kossetsu means fracture in Japanese. FushĂ´ka is indigestion; Minikui means ugly. You can just imagine the damage those hexes probably cause.
Ohayo gozaimasu or just plain ohayo means "good morning" in Japanese. The suffix -san is used instead of the usual Western titles. The suffix -kun is a diminutive title used for young men and boys; -chan is its feminine equivalent.
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