It was the Thursday before the wedding and the Slytherins, with Neville in tow, went en masse to Tokyo via Muggle airplane. It was a great deal slower than traveling by Portkey but certainly more comfortable. Blaise had to admit he got a decent eyeful of handsome lads on the plane, as well. He and Millicent cackled excitedly over the lot during the flight.
Draco picked them up at Narita on a magically enhanced SUV that accommodated everyone comfortably. He dropped them off at the Hotel Momiji, a posh affair that catered exclusively to wizards, in equally plush Roppongi. They took time to freshen up, then Apparated to the lobby of Draco’s Kyôto flat for tea.
“Sumimasen,” Teddy motioned to the young Japanese lady at the front desk of the Kamigyo Mansion. “Malfoy Draco-san no apaato wa doko desu ka?”
“Dai go no kai desu yo,” the woman replied, smiling slightly. She stood up and waved her hand over a mirror that hung behind her desk. “Karetachi wa donata desu ka?”
“Nott Theodore desu,” Teddy replied with a deep bow. “Bokutachi wa Malfoy-san no tomodachitachi da. Kare wa bokutachi matte imasu yo.”
“I didn’t know you spoke Japanese, Ted,” Vince murmured, rather astonished.
“Seventh-year pre-NEWTs Cultural Magic,” Teddy replied, smirking confidently.
“Maa, chotto matte kudasai,” the receptionist advised them. Ginny’s face appeared in the mirror; the receptionist spoke to her. “Gomen nasai, Weasley-san; demo, Nott-san to nakama ga tsukimashite.”
“Sô desu ka?” Ginny nodded to the receptionist. “Chotto matte kudasai.”
A few minutes later, Ginny came out of the lift. She was clad in a sapphire blue kimono, her coppery hair swept up and held in place by a jeweled kanzashi; her smile was absolutely radiant.
“Drae told me you’d be here for tea,” she said as she ushered them into the lift after the necessary courtesies. “He won’t be in 'til six; he went back to work after he dropped you off at the Momiji.” She grinned wickedly. “Pity; I ordered all his favorites from the local bakeshop.”
“Save the poor lad an éclair, then,” Greg rumbled. “That way, we’d all feel virtuous even if we polish off everything else.”
Everyone laughed as the lift opened onto the fifth floor. Ginny led them to a spectacular flat where a scrumptious tea was laid out in the dining room.
“Do sit down, everyone,” Ginny invited them, gesturing towards the table. “Help yourselves.”
They sat down to hot chocolate, green tea, cream puffs, éclairs, chocolate petits-fours, and a selection of wagashi.
As he sipped the cup of hot chocolate Ginny poured for him, Teddy studied Ginny and contemplated the changes he noticed in her and in Draco. Married life obviously agreed with them, though they weren’t exactly married in the legal sense. Draco’s laughter came more easily now and Ginny had certainly blossomed. Teddy could tell even now that theirs wasn’t going to be a perfect marriage, but it was going to be a happy one.
He caught Ginny’s eye and slightly raised his cup to her. To you and your better half, Gin, he thought. Long may the sweetness last.
***
Hajime and Draco both knew that the customer who came in that afternoon was up to something.
He was a wizened old fellow clad in a white kimono. He would’ve looked like any other elderly Japanese wizard if it weren’t for the color of his clothing. In the West, black is the color of the Dark Arts and symbolizes evil at its worst. In Asia, however, white is the color of death and the emptiness that follows it. Corpses are dressed in white before burial – and wizards who openly wore the color of death were definitely up to no good.
The old man had asked if they had any dried Lethifold skin. Draco replied in the affirmative and asked what it was for. The old man grinned evilly and drew him close to whisper that it was for a Strangling Solution to get rid of his Muggle neighbors. At that, Draco reared up, angered by the idea.
“I’m sorry, sir.” Draco drew himself up, his tone cold and expression grim. His height and coloring made this move particularly impressive. “But we do not serve Dark wizards here. I suggest you take your business elsewhere.”
“Impertinent boy!” The old man leered at him. “I’ll make you lose every customer you have!”
“You can try, sir.” There was a dangerous emphasis. Draco leaned forward so that his nose was barely inches away from the old wizard’s. His silver eyes glinted dangerously. “But that won’t stop me from calling in the Karigumi on you or dealing with you myself.” He set his wand onto the counter with a deliberate slowness, tapping it in a nerve-wracking manner. “I assure you that I’m a dab hand at hexes and curses – and I’m not afraid to use them.”
“You wouldn’t dare!” The white-clad wizard drew back in horror. Still, he recovered enough to sneer at him and make a rude gesture before marching out of the apothecary.
“That’s one customer I don’t mind losing,” Draco remarked to Hajime when the man had gone.
“Same here,” Hajime agreed. Draco was minding the selling floor while he mixed up a fresh batch of Sachi-kusuri, a popular antidepressant potion. He looked up and regarded his colleague quizzically. “Don’t you find it ironic that your father was a Dark wizard and yet you abhor anything that has to do with the Dark Arts?” he asked.
“Not really,” Draco admitted, as he carried a carton of glass phials over to a nearby shelf. As he began restocking the display of analgesic potions, he explained why. “I was a right bastard when I was younger,” he began. “I did everything my father told me to do and I hated everything he hated, Muggle-born wizards and half-blood, mostly. I lived in his shadow and tried to win his approval, seeing how I probably would never get his affection.
“When Voldemort fell and Father was thrown into Azkaban, I was furious. It seemed like everything we'd believed in crumbled to dust.” He looked up, his pale face somber in the afternoon light streaming through the front window. “There was nothing left in my heart but hatred and a wild desire to take revenge.”
“What happened then?” By this time, Hajime had stopped working, engrossed as he was in Draco’s admission. He stood in the doorway of the lab, arms folded across his chest. “What made you change your mind?”
Draco pursed his lips as his mind flew back to that day…
***
“Get the hell away from me!” he screamed, hurling an empty butterbeer bottle at Pansy. She managed to duck, and the bottle smashed noisily on the wall.
The morning following his father’s suicide, Draco managed to sneak out of the hospital wing and into the Slytherin common room. Before even five minutes passed, he realized it was a mistake.
Everyone wanted to condole with him, to cheer him up. Pansy tried to comfort him, but he would have none of it. It was more than he could stand. He began pushing people away, throwing things, screaming…
He fled the common room before his rage got the better of him and he started hexing and cursing people.
He collapsed in a stairwell, more than a little unaware of where he’d ended up in. Hot tears began to spill over his cheeks, his normally pale face flushed scarlet.
“I hate you, Lucius Malfoy!” he howled, his words ringing with rage. “I hate you! I hate what you did to my mother! I hate what you did to me!”
In his mind, he could see his father’s cruel face, lips curled in a truly evil smirk, eyes glinting with malice.
“And people say I’ll be just like you someday,” Draco whispered, hugging his knees as he rested his chin upon them. “Some father you were!”
He heard footsteps close by. Grabbing his wand, he suddenly got to his feet. “Who’s there?” he snarled. “Can’t a man get any peace around this school?”
A russet-haired head peeked around the corner, brown eyes meeting gray ones.
“It’s just me, Draco,” she replied. “Everyone’s looking for you.”
“Why?” he demanded. “So they can tell me I’ll be following in my father’s footsteps soon? That I’ll be a Dark Wizard just like him? That I’ll be some manky git who…”
“Draco, stop!”
He stared at her. She’d grabbed him by his arms and shook him hard – no mean feat for someone a good head shorter that he was and built like a fairy.
“Stop it!” she cried. “Stop comparing yourself to your father, Draco. He’s dead and you’re alive. You can change things. You can prove everyone wrong.” She regarded him candidly. “You’re not Lucius,” she said in a quieter voice. “You’ll never be Lucius Malfoy. You’re Draco Malfoy and you have your whole life ahead of you.”
“It’s too late,” he muttered bitterly.
“It’s not too late, you prat!” She kicked him lightly in the shins to emphasize her point.
“But everyone…”
“What do you care about what anyone says?”
“Ginny…”
“Will you let them tell you what to do with your life?”
He froze at that. She has a point, he thought. A valid point!
“What do you want to do now, Draco?” she asked him. “What do you really want to do?”
“Go abroad,” he blurted uneasily. “Work for a bit. Make people forget that the Malfoys were ever a family of Dark Wizards.” She let him go, but he held her hands. “I want people to see I’m not my father, nor will I ever be like him.” He sighed. “Am I making any sense at all?” he asked her.
“You are.” A gentle smile touched her rosebud lips. “A lot of it, as a matter of fact.”
“I want to get out of Britain soon as I’m done with school, Ginny. I don’t know how I’ll be able to do that, but I can always pray that something will come up.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” She wiped the tearstains off his face with her own handkerchief. “Do you feel better now?”
“Yes,” he replied. Awkwardly, he kissed her cheek. “Thanks, Ginny.”
She blushed; he thought she looked very pretty when she blushed. “You’re welcome,” she responded.
Hand in hand, they made their way back downstairs.
“How did you know where to find me?” Draco asked as they went down a flight of stairs.
“I didn’t.” There was a mischievous smirk on Ginny’s face. “I was running away from my ex.”
“Potter’s still bothering you?”
“Oh gods, yes!” Ginny looked more than a little annoyed. “He ran up to me and asked to be given a chance to explain about his dreadful behavior; he said he was just cheering up Callista Cuthbert because she was lonely.”
“And his idea of cheering her up involved playing ‘How’s your Father?’ with her? In the dorm you shared with her no less?” When she nodded, Draco looked disgusted. “And they say I’m a sick bastard!” He shook his head in dismay. “How did you get away from him?”
“I hexed him.”
“Minikui again?”
“No. I threw the Naishashi at him. He should be out of sorts for the next two hours or so.”
Draco smiled almost beatifically at that. “That ought to make our Double Potions class most interesting,” he beamed.
“What? With Harry’s eyes crossed and seeing double?”
“Belenos, yes!” He smirked wickedly at her. “With everyone paying attention to him, no one will be bothering me.”
She stared at him in consternation, then the two of them burst into laughter.
***
“Tadaima!” Draco sang out as he opened the front door.
“Okaeri nasai!” Ginny ran over to him and was immediately swept into a passionate embrace. “Someone had a good afternoon at work!” she laughed when he released her.
“Oi, Drae!” Teddy called from the living room couch.
“Hallo, you lot.” Draco stowed his shoes into the rack by the front door and flopped comfortably between Teddy and Greg. “Enjoying yourselves?”
“Oh, yes,” Neville chuckled, as he passed a plate of éclairs to Draco. “We were just chatting with Ginny about how the two of you have gone native. I mean, Gin’s in a kimono and you look like something out of a samurai story.”
“Well, it’s comfortable,” Draco agreed, pointing to the hakama he’d worn to work. “There’s a notion, Nev! I told Hajime I’d take tomorrow off so I could show you lot around.” He grinned. “We can shop.”
“And you can meet our musubiya,” Ginny chimed in as Draco pulled her onto his knee. “She’s wonderful.”
“In that case,” Neville chuckled. “How can we refuse?”
Draco picked them up at Narita on a magically enhanced SUV that accommodated everyone comfortably. He dropped them off at the Hotel Momiji, a posh affair that catered exclusively to wizards, in equally plush Roppongi. They took time to freshen up, then Apparated to the lobby of Draco’s Kyôto flat for tea.
“Sumimasen,” Teddy motioned to the young Japanese lady at the front desk of the Kamigyo Mansion. “Malfoy Draco-san no apaato wa doko desu ka?”
“Dai go no kai desu yo,” the woman replied, smiling slightly. She stood up and waved her hand over a mirror that hung behind her desk. “Karetachi wa donata desu ka?”
“Nott Theodore desu,” Teddy replied with a deep bow. “Bokutachi wa Malfoy-san no tomodachitachi da. Kare wa bokutachi matte imasu yo.”
“I didn’t know you spoke Japanese, Ted,” Vince murmured, rather astonished.
“Seventh-year pre-NEWTs Cultural Magic,” Teddy replied, smirking confidently.
“Maa, chotto matte kudasai,” the receptionist advised them. Ginny’s face appeared in the mirror; the receptionist spoke to her. “Gomen nasai, Weasley-san; demo, Nott-san to nakama ga tsukimashite.”
“Sô desu ka?” Ginny nodded to the receptionist. “Chotto matte kudasai.”
A few minutes later, Ginny came out of the lift. She was clad in a sapphire blue kimono, her coppery hair swept up and held in place by a jeweled kanzashi; her smile was absolutely radiant.
“Drae told me you’d be here for tea,” she said as she ushered them into the lift after the necessary courtesies. “He won’t be in 'til six; he went back to work after he dropped you off at the Momiji.” She grinned wickedly. “Pity; I ordered all his favorites from the local bakeshop.”
“Save the poor lad an éclair, then,” Greg rumbled. “That way, we’d all feel virtuous even if we polish off everything else.”
Everyone laughed as the lift opened onto the fifth floor. Ginny led them to a spectacular flat where a scrumptious tea was laid out in the dining room.
“Do sit down, everyone,” Ginny invited them, gesturing towards the table. “Help yourselves.”
They sat down to hot chocolate, green tea, cream puffs, éclairs, chocolate petits-fours, and a selection of wagashi.
As he sipped the cup of hot chocolate Ginny poured for him, Teddy studied Ginny and contemplated the changes he noticed in her and in Draco. Married life obviously agreed with them, though they weren’t exactly married in the legal sense. Draco’s laughter came more easily now and Ginny had certainly blossomed. Teddy could tell even now that theirs wasn’t going to be a perfect marriage, but it was going to be a happy one.
He caught Ginny’s eye and slightly raised his cup to her. To you and your better half, Gin, he thought. Long may the sweetness last.
***
Hajime and Draco both knew that the customer who came in that afternoon was up to something.
He was a wizened old fellow clad in a white kimono. He would’ve looked like any other elderly Japanese wizard if it weren’t for the color of his clothing. In the West, black is the color of the Dark Arts and symbolizes evil at its worst. In Asia, however, white is the color of death and the emptiness that follows it. Corpses are dressed in white before burial – and wizards who openly wore the color of death were definitely up to no good.
The old man had asked if they had any dried Lethifold skin. Draco replied in the affirmative and asked what it was for. The old man grinned evilly and drew him close to whisper that it was for a Strangling Solution to get rid of his Muggle neighbors. At that, Draco reared up, angered by the idea.
“I’m sorry, sir.” Draco drew himself up, his tone cold and expression grim. His height and coloring made this move particularly impressive. “But we do not serve Dark wizards here. I suggest you take your business elsewhere.”
“Impertinent boy!” The old man leered at him. “I’ll make you lose every customer you have!”
“You can try, sir.” There was a dangerous emphasis. Draco leaned forward so that his nose was barely inches away from the old wizard’s. His silver eyes glinted dangerously. “But that won’t stop me from calling in the Karigumi on you or dealing with you myself.” He set his wand onto the counter with a deliberate slowness, tapping it in a nerve-wracking manner. “I assure you that I’m a dab hand at hexes and curses – and I’m not afraid to use them.”
“You wouldn’t dare!” The white-clad wizard drew back in horror. Still, he recovered enough to sneer at him and make a rude gesture before marching out of the apothecary.
“That’s one customer I don’t mind losing,” Draco remarked to Hajime when the man had gone.
“Same here,” Hajime agreed. Draco was minding the selling floor while he mixed up a fresh batch of Sachi-kusuri, a popular antidepressant potion. He looked up and regarded his colleague quizzically. “Don’t you find it ironic that your father was a Dark wizard and yet you abhor anything that has to do with the Dark Arts?” he asked.
“Not really,” Draco admitted, as he carried a carton of glass phials over to a nearby shelf. As he began restocking the display of analgesic potions, he explained why. “I was a right bastard when I was younger,” he began. “I did everything my father told me to do and I hated everything he hated, Muggle-born wizards and half-blood, mostly. I lived in his shadow and tried to win his approval, seeing how I probably would never get his affection.
“When Voldemort fell and Father was thrown into Azkaban, I was furious. It seemed like everything we'd believed in crumbled to dust.” He looked up, his pale face somber in the afternoon light streaming through the front window. “There was nothing left in my heart but hatred and a wild desire to take revenge.”
“What happened then?” By this time, Hajime had stopped working, engrossed as he was in Draco’s admission. He stood in the doorway of the lab, arms folded across his chest. “What made you change your mind?”
Draco pursed his lips as his mind flew back to that day…
***
“Get the hell away from me!” he screamed, hurling an empty butterbeer bottle at Pansy. She managed to duck, and the bottle smashed noisily on the wall.
The morning following his father’s suicide, Draco managed to sneak out of the hospital wing and into the Slytherin common room. Before even five minutes passed, he realized it was a mistake.
Everyone wanted to condole with him, to cheer him up. Pansy tried to comfort him, but he would have none of it. It was more than he could stand. He began pushing people away, throwing things, screaming…
He fled the common room before his rage got the better of him and he started hexing and cursing people.
He collapsed in a stairwell, more than a little unaware of where he’d ended up in. Hot tears began to spill over his cheeks, his normally pale face flushed scarlet.
“I hate you, Lucius Malfoy!” he howled, his words ringing with rage. “I hate you! I hate what you did to my mother! I hate what you did to me!”
In his mind, he could see his father’s cruel face, lips curled in a truly evil smirk, eyes glinting with malice.
“And people say I’ll be just like you someday,” Draco whispered, hugging his knees as he rested his chin upon them. “Some father you were!”
He heard footsteps close by. Grabbing his wand, he suddenly got to his feet. “Who’s there?” he snarled. “Can’t a man get any peace around this school?”
A russet-haired head peeked around the corner, brown eyes meeting gray ones.
“It’s just me, Draco,” she replied. “Everyone’s looking for you.”
“Why?” he demanded. “So they can tell me I’ll be following in my father’s footsteps soon? That I’ll be a Dark Wizard just like him? That I’ll be some manky git who…”
“Draco, stop!”
He stared at her. She’d grabbed him by his arms and shook him hard – no mean feat for someone a good head shorter that he was and built like a fairy.
“Stop it!” she cried. “Stop comparing yourself to your father, Draco. He’s dead and you’re alive. You can change things. You can prove everyone wrong.” She regarded him candidly. “You’re not Lucius,” she said in a quieter voice. “You’ll never be Lucius Malfoy. You’re Draco Malfoy and you have your whole life ahead of you.”
“It’s too late,” he muttered bitterly.
“It’s not too late, you prat!” She kicked him lightly in the shins to emphasize her point.
“But everyone…”
“What do you care about what anyone says?”
“Ginny…”
“Will you let them tell you what to do with your life?”
He froze at that. She has a point, he thought. A valid point!
“What do you want to do now, Draco?” she asked him. “What do you really want to do?”
“Go abroad,” he blurted uneasily. “Work for a bit. Make people forget that the Malfoys were ever a family of Dark Wizards.” She let him go, but he held her hands. “I want people to see I’m not my father, nor will I ever be like him.” He sighed. “Am I making any sense at all?” he asked her.
“You are.” A gentle smile touched her rosebud lips. “A lot of it, as a matter of fact.”
“I want to get out of Britain soon as I’m done with school, Ginny. I don’t know how I’ll be able to do that, but I can always pray that something will come up.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” She wiped the tearstains off his face with her own handkerchief. “Do you feel better now?”
“Yes,” he replied. Awkwardly, he kissed her cheek. “Thanks, Ginny.”
She blushed; he thought she looked very pretty when she blushed. “You’re welcome,” she responded.
Hand in hand, they made their way back downstairs.
“How did you know where to find me?” Draco asked as they went down a flight of stairs.
“I didn’t.” There was a mischievous smirk on Ginny’s face. “I was running away from my ex.”
“Potter’s still bothering you?”
“Oh gods, yes!” Ginny looked more than a little annoyed. “He ran up to me and asked to be given a chance to explain about his dreadful behavior; he said he was just cheering up Callista Cuthbert because she was lonely.”
“And his idea of cheering her up involved playing ‘How’s your Father?’ with her? In the dorm you shared with her no less?” When she nodded, Draco looked disgusted. “And they say I’m a sick bastard!” He shook his head in dismay. “How did you get away from him?”
“I hexed him.”
“Minikui again?”
“No. I threw the Naishashi at him. He should be out of sorts for the next two hours or so.”
Draco smiled almost beatifically at that. “That ought to make our Double Potions class most interesting,” he beamed.
“What? With Harry’s eyes crossed and seeing double?”
“Belenos, yes!” He smirked wickedly at her. “With everyone paying attention to him, no one will be bothering me.”
She stared at him in consternation, then the two of them burst into laughter.
***
“Tadaima!” Draco sang out as he opened the front door.
“Okaeri nasai!” Ginny ran over to him and was immediately swept into a passionate embrace. “Someone had a good afternoon at work!” she laughed when he released her.
“Oi, Drae!” Teddy called from the living room couch.
“Hallo, you lot.” Draco stowed his shoes into the rack by the front door and flopped comfortably between Teddy and Greg. “Enjoying yourselves?”
“Oh, yes,” Neville chuckled, as he passed a plate of éclairs to Draco. “We were just chatting with Ginny about how the two of you have gone native. I mean, Gin’s in a kimono and you look like something out of a samurai story.”
“Well, it’s comfortable,” Draco agreed, pointing to the hakama he’d worn to work. “There’s a notion, Nev! I told Hajime I’d take tomorrow off so I could show you lot around.” He grinned. “We can shop.”
“And you can meet our musubiya,” Ginny chimed in as Draco pulled her onto his knee. “She’s wonderful.”
“In that case,” Neville chuckled. “How can we refuse?”
Author notes: The Conversation with the Receptionist at Kamigyo Mansion:
Excuse me. Where's Mr. Draco Malfoy's apartment?
It's on the fifth floor. Can I get your names, please?
I'm Theodore Nott. My companions and I are friends of Mr. Malfoy's. He invited us over.
Oh, a moment please. Excuse me, Miss Weasley; but there's a Mr. Nott here come to visit.
Is that so? I'll be right there.
Kanzashi: Jeweled clips originally worn by geisha to hold their elaborate hairstyles
Wagashi: traditional Japanese sweets
Karigumi: literally, hunters; Japanese Aurors
Naishashi: cross-eyed
Tadaima: "I'm home!"
Okaeri nasai: "Welcome back!"
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