Nineteen-year-old Draco Malfoy never regretted his decision to leave England for Japan when he left Hogwarts.
He didn’t need to work; he had, after all, inherited the vast Malfoy fortune after his father’s suicide in Azkaban. Even after one subtracted the darker assets that were sequestered by the Ministry at the time of Lucius Malfoy’s imprisonment, eighty million Galleons was more than one could spend in several lifetimes. But the young man wanted to prove to the world that he wasn’t his father, that he was a different man from the ruthless Death Eater who sired him.
He liked his work at the apothecary. He didn't mind the long hours he spent in the lab at the back of the shop. It was fun to concoct the various potions and poultices their customers asked for. The shop itself was a refreshing change from the dingy, cluttered apothecaries back in Britain. It always smelled nice and the ingredients were stored in properly labeled drawers. The shop was well lit and cheerful.
Normally, Japanese wizards didn’t care much for gaijin folk. But Draco hit it off well with everyone who frequented the Nekomi-no-Yakkyoku. He picked up the language quickly and spoke with a refined Kyôto accent. He was polite, well mannered, and well versed with his work and people liked him for it. Sometimes, he wondered what people would say if they found out he came from a family of Dark wizards. But those times came less frequently now.
It was a lucky chance that he landed the job he had now. One of Professor Sinagtala’s Japanese cousins needed someone to help manage the Nekomi Clan’s apothecary in Kyôto. The young professor was aware of Draco’s skill with charms and potion making. She promptly sent him off with a superlative recommendation almost as soon as his seventh year ended.
“You are a credit to your family, Mr. Malfoy,” Professor Sinagtala praised him at the commencement ceremony. “Not many young men of your age are so willing to be strangers in an even stranger land.”
Draco smiled at the memory as he took a sip of his morning coffee. Few knew that his decision meant a new beginning to him: a fresh start for a family long tainted by the Dark Arts. His mother wept copiously when he informed her of his decision, but even she knew it was for best.
And, then, there was Ginny. His gray eyes strayed to a framed photo of a young girl, her brilliant hair braided and coiled about her head like a reddish gold crown. She blew happy kisses at him and waved exuberantly. He still couldn’t figure out how it happened or even why it happened, but he was a happier man for it.
His mind, as it always did when he remembered her, drifted back to that night a couple years ago. He was in his seventh year and she in her sixth, both unaware that the evening’s events would change their lives forever.
He didn’t need to work; he had, after all, inherited the vast Malfoy fortune after his father’s suicide in Azkaban. Even after one subtracted the darker assets that were sequestered by the Ministry at the time of Lucius Malfoy’s imprisonment, eighty million Galleons was more than one could spend in several lifetimes. But the young man wanted to prove to the world that he wasn’t his father, that he was a different man from the ruthless Death Eater who sired him.
He liked his work at the apothecary. He didn't mind the long hours he spent in the lab at the back of the shop. It was fun to concoct the various potions and poultices their customers asked for. The shop itself was a refreshing change from the dingy, cluttered apothecaries back in Britain. It always smelled nice and the ingredients were stored in properly labeled drawers. The shop was well lit and cheerful.
Normally, Japanese wizards didn’t care much for gaijin folk. But Draco hit it off well with everyone who frequented the Nekomi-no-Yakkyoku. He picked up the language quickly and spoke with a refined Kyôto accent. He was polite, well mannered, and well versed with his work and people liked him for it. Sometimes, he wondered what people would say if they found out he came from a family of Dark wizards. But those times came less frequently now.
It was a lucky chance that he landed the job he had now. One of Professor Sinagtala’s Japanese cousins needed someone to help manage the Nekomi Clan’s apothecary in Kyôto. The young professor was aware of Draco’s skill with charms and potion making. She promptly sent him off with a superlative recommendation almost as soon as his seventh year ended.
“You are a credit to your family, Mr. Malfoy,” Professor Sinagtala praised him at the commencement ceremony. “Not many young men of your age are so willing to be strangers in an even stranger land.”
Draco smiled at the memory as he took a sip of his morning coffee. Few knew that his decision meant a new beginning to him: a fresh start for a family long tainted by the Dark Arts. His mother wept copiously when he informed her of his decision, but even she knew it was for best.
And, then, there was Ginny. His gray eyes strayed to a framed photo of a young girl, her brilliant hair braided and coiled about her head like a reddish gold crown. She blew happy kisses at him and waved exuberantly. He still couldn’t figure out how it happened or even why it happened, but he was a happier man for it.
His mind, as it always did when he remembered her, drifted back to that night a couple years ago. He was in his seventh year and she in her sixth, both unaware that the evening’s events would change their lives forever.
Author notes: Gaijin is the Japanese word for foreigner. Yakkyoku means drugstore or, more appropriately in this case, apothecary. Nekomi-no-Yakkyoku means that the apothecary is owned by the Nekomi family.
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