Alone together now
Then
When Draco was seven years old, his mother had taken him to a tea shop in wizarding Paris, during one of his father's business trips.
He still remembered the distinct sweet musky aroma that greeted him at the door (which he later learned to be darjeeling) and the lavish assortment of bouquets adorning glass tables. He remembered the thick dark grey and white carpets that sat primly atop gleaming black tile and the upholstered wingback chairs in deep purples and royal greens.
Most of all he remembered his mother's knowing smile as he delighted in his first bite of a lychee rose tea marshmallow and how for years after that trip, he'd find a new flavour of the sweets among his gifts on every birthday and Christmas.
Mrs. Sun's House of Curiositieas was nothing like that shop in France.
For one, it was a muggle establishment, located squarely in Camden where Draco had taken up residence after the ministry finally kicked him out of the manor – not that he was complaining.
The manor officially stopped feeling like home a year into his two-year house arrest, when Draco found his mother's listless body in his father's office. When the second year was up, he was relieved never to step foot in that house of horrors again.
The ministry had been so kind as to allow Draco a monthly allowance from what remained of his and his mother's vaults for the duration of his five-year sentence, but Malfoy galleons weren't worth much anymore.
He learned that the hard way, when a trip to Diagon Alley only served as a reminder to brush up on his defense training and healing spells. His next trip was his last, and it consisted of a single stop at Gringotts to convert all the money he had left to muggle currency and link it to a muggle bank account. Then he went in search of a flat.
All he could afford at the time was in a beat-up walk up and it took him an embarrassingly long time to realize he was dealing with a slumlord, but he made the best of the situation and if it wasn't home, it was at least preventing him from being homeless.
That changed the day his probation ended.
"Evicted?! You can't be serious. Open up, Bert, I swear to God," Draco pounded on his sleazy property manager's door to no avail. When he finally stopped, the door opened a crack, the chain lock still in place.
"What do you want, Drake?"
"What do I want?" Draco yelled incredulously. "What I want is to be let into my apartment. Why am I being evicted? I paid you a year's rent upfront in January. I have another eight months on my lease."
"Don't matter," Bert sniffed. "I got a call from some friends o' yours - told me all about your criminal dealings goin' on in there. We don't 'ouse criminals. Now feck off."
That was rich, Draco thought with a snort. "Yeah, very funny. Let me in." The door slammed shut.
Just then, Draco's mobile rang. "WHAT?" Draco yelled, picking up the phone, his good mood from the morning completely ruined.
"Looks like you need a place to live, love" came the smarmy greeting on the other end of the line. Draco's face darkened. "Fuck off, Adrian. Lose my number."
He should have known his vile ex was behind this. Though 'ex' was a bit of a strong term to apply to what they had. The whirlwind romance started a few months ago, and Draco had ended things last week when he'd come home from work to Adrian asleep next to a strange man in his bed, a smattering of muggles passed out around the rest of the apartment. It turned out he was dealing drugs, and used Draco's apartment as a pick up spot when he wasn't home. On top of that, he'd been stealing from the chemist where Draco had been working for the past three years, and got him sacked.
Draco slammed the flip phone shut with a vicious growl, and turned to face the street where Adrian was parked outside his building, laughing. He flipped him off as he drove away.
With another sound of frustration, Draco went back to beating Bert's door with his fists. "At least let me in to get my things!"
Half an hour later Draco was back on the street with everything he valued in a bag on his back. With a sigh, he went in search of a new place to live.
**
Draco had been living in a transfigured, disillusioned tent outside of Regent's Park for the better part of two weeks when he came across the tea shop advertising a flat for rent and a for hire sign in its front window, and decided to take a chance on it.
A shop bell chimed as he stepped through the door. Somewhere in the back, a voice called out "just a minute!"
Unlike the French tea shop, this one smelled of Jasmine and old books. The walls of the shop were lined with wooden shelves, displaying all sorts of trinkets and curios, muggle games, and books about the occult.
Thin Persian rugs lined the wooden floors and green lamps placed on tables around the shop gave it a warm glow. Beat-up brown leather armchairs took up the rest of the floor space.
Behind the counter, a jade tea set sat proudly on a shelf on the back wall, surrounded by colourful wooden boxes that Draco presumed were full of various teas.
A calico Japanese bobtail cat was perched atop a wooden stepstool next to the counter, lazily swinging its tail back and forth. Its miniature sat on the counter next to the cash register, beckoning to Draco. A beaded curtain separated the front of the store from the back, where Draco could hear sounds of movement.
A moment later, Mrs. Sun walked out.
The owner of the store was short and stout, not unlike a teapot herself, with graying curls swept up in a messy bun. A nametag reading "Lydia" was pinned to her mustard handknit vest which she wore open over a red turtleneck.
"Can I help you, dear?" She asked in a slight Chinese accent, taking in Draco with a shrewd eye.
"Er. I'm looking for a job," he said.
"Well what a coincidence," she said with a smile. "I'm offering one."
"Right. I also wanted to inquire about the flat..." Draco went on.
"Well, it's a bachelor, furnished, located right above the shop, next to mine. Rent is £240 a month, £200 for employees."
"That's-"
"I'll take the first month's rent out of your paycheck. When can you start?"
"Sorry," Draco said, bewildered. "Don't you want to interview me?"
"Of course!" the old woman laughed. "Follow me."
She led Draco through the beaded curtain past the dusty back room full of half-opened cardboard boxes and through a wooden door where a table was decorated with a small teacup, plate and a pot of tea.
"Take a seat," she instructed. The comforting aroma of bergamot filled Draco's senses as she began to pour water over the loose tea leaves in the cup. "Don't you want to strai-"
"Shh!"
Draco sat quietly as Mrs. Sun twirled the cup around a few times in her left hand. With a growing sense of dread, Draco remembered why that gesture seemed familiar. What was it that muggles called seers?
"You're a fortune teller." He said flatly. "Well," she looked up with a twinkle in her eye. "I dabble. Go on now, drink."
Draco took the cup reluctantly but felt himself relax at the first sip. There was nothing like a good cup of Earl Grey to calm the nerves.
When he had nearly drained the cup of its contents he returned it to the woman for his reading.
"Hm," she said, once the leaves had formed a clear pattern in the cup. "Curious." She looked up at him thoughtfully.
"What's curious?" Draco asked warily. Mrs. Sun pointed to the leaves.
"The wings of a crow, spread out to the rim, next to the handle. Death. But also, freedom. You have a long journey ahead of you young man."
Draco blanched but the woman just smiled. "So," she asked again. "When can you start?"