Draco's training with Morgana continued night after night. Always after dinner, the two practiced. First with spells and then with the physical training, each night Draco went to bed tired and woke up stiff as a board. The mornings Draco would struggle getting out, he would hear activity in the gardens and one morning saw Morgana running around the courtyard. He barely had time to read the book on the Dark Arts, and even had less time to focus on work.
The night before, Morgana assured him that today there would be no training. He could soak in a hot bath and get some work done instead of being afraid of getting beat again and again by his housemate. When Draco had made it to breakfast, he noticed that the house was extremely quiet.
"Finn, where is Morgana?" he asked the nearest house elf.
"Master, mistress Diamanté said she had urgent business to attend to. Finn knows nothing else, Master." Draco nodded and waved him away as he pondered to what her business could possibly be.
Morgana left the house that morning before the sun even had begun to rise. The English winter air bit at her cheeks causing a light pink to rise. The night before, after her training with Draco, Elenei dropped a letter on her bed. It took no time for Morgana to read it and to make up her mind. After a quick sleep, Morgana donned her patent leggings and a corseted, black halter top. She slipped into her matte black, leather combat boots and covered herself in a moto leather jacket. After a quick sip of scotch, Morgana transported herself to her destination. When next she opened her eyes, she was in the middle of Kobe city.
The sight might not be her beloved Mahoutokoro, but the lights of the city brought nice warmth to her despite the chilly winter air. The sun was just about to set on the city's skyline, but life in the city was just about to begin. Her feet carried her until she reached the darkest part of the city. Yakuza signs were scribbled along every building. A small doorway held back the flooding of the sounds of the Yamaguchi-gumi run nightclub, and to true gangster fashion, was protected by well-groomed men.
Morgana walked up to the two, well aware that the others in the area were part of the organisation as well. Without having to do too much, the men parted and allowed her entrance to the establishment.
The place was dimly lit. The only source of light was from the bluelights under and around the bar area, and the glow of the glow-in-the-dark paint and clothing the waitresses wore. Most of the men were hidden in the dark, if not behind the smoke of their cigarettes. Morgana walked passed them all and entered the back VIP room. She was barely noticed by anyone, having been dressed in all black and not a glimmer of a shine on her.
The sounds of electronic music soon quickly blended with the loud clutter of gambling and esteemed men drinking. The lights were not as dim in the room, and there was an air of money filling her scent.
"Who brought this bitch in here?" a man in the centre of the room yelled above the noise. Everyone hushed and movements ceased as all attention fell on the girl in all black.
"I did not come here to discuss matters," Morgana calmly stated in Japanese. She held out her wand and many of the women and some of the men laughed.
"Leave," the man said through the laughter. Through their stifled hiccups of laughter, many of the room left. Those that remained were loyalists of the yakuza. "Never thought they'd send a little girl to be the end of me."
Morgana glowered. "I am no little girl. I am your end." Colour filled the room as curses and hexes flew past extended wands and into their targets. In no time, all the men had fallen and it was just the little girl and big man.
He scoffed. "I can offer you whatever they are paying you and more. Name it, sakura."
Morgana flinched a little at the pet name that was just donned on her. "I am not your cherry blossom. Nothing would please me more than your end." In a swift movement, Morgana drew a dagger from her side. Faster than the man could utter a killing curse or place a protection spell, the dagger found its target and sliced the skin and muscle that protected his ruby blood. When the blade hit the wall behind him, his body was already on the ground and sputtering out its contents.
Morgana crouched over the almost lifeless form of the former leader. "Your wakagashira sends his thanks for all that you have done for him," Morgana stated before placing a tanto right into his abdomen and dragging it across. Blood and innards opened up to her gaze and the last light of life left the man.
Outside the small room it was as if nothing had changed. The music blared from the speakers and bodies crashed into their each other. Laughter and drinks were shared as Morgana took a place at the bar. After two cups of sake were placed in front of her, the bartender handed a thick envelope. The cups were emptied of their contents and soon Morgana and the envelope were gone without a trace other than a dead body and slew of unconscious ones.
"Where did you go?" Draco asked Morgana when she walked past the living room.
"I had some important business to take care of. I assumed you would be at work today." Morgana did not turn to answer him and it raised concern in Draco.
"I did my work from home." Silently, he walked to Morgana and stepped in front of her vision. Her look had hardened into one similar of when she first turned up at his home. "What did you do?"
"I did my job, Draco. Do not worry." Morgana softened slightly under his gaze. Draco meant no harm and was no threat to their safety (at least no more than Morgana was to his).
All Draco wanted to do was reach up and cup her face in his hand. He wanted to ease her mind, but he was taught better than that. He held back his yearnings and let Morgana walk up to her room. "Dinner will be ready soon," Draco let out before she walked up the steps.
"Finn!" Draco yelled out. In no time, the house elf appeared before him. "Please temporarily replace the large dining table with a more intimate one for dinner with Morgana tonight. And ask her what she would like to drink tonight and find it, whatever it is."
Finn bowed deeply, almost touching his toes with his nose, and quickly disappeared to do as he was ordered.
Morgana tossed the envelope on her desk and discarded her clothes in a mess on the floor. Her bare feet padded their way into the bathroom. Despite Draco's warning of the upcoming time of dinner, Morgana took her time in the shower. Steam filled the room as the water cascaded down her dark hair and against her light tan. Some new cuts stung as the heat and soap went over them and she let out a hiss.
"Morgana? Hurry up in there," Draco yelled through the rushing water and wood of her door. "Dinner is ready!"
Enough was enough, and Morgana slipped into a pair of dark jeans and a green flannel shirt. "Well, this is intimate," Morgana remarked when she laid eyes on the table fit for two. "Didn't realise I was supposed to dress up either."
"It's fine, Morgana," Draco replied. He stood up to pull out her chair, and Morgana couldn't help but let her eyes wander to his bottom that was sculpted from years of quidditch practices. Even through the layer of chino material, she could see what the sport had equipped him with.
With the raise of his wand, Draco poured two small cups of plum wine. "Morgana, we're going to start to have to trust each other on personal matters if we're to continue living together," he said as he handed the other glass to his date. The sound of clinking glasses filled the room and the warm, sweet liquid poured down their throats.
"Maybe we can discuss this after dinner in the living room with drinks," Morgana suggested as she placed her glass back on the table and poured the two of them another round. "I would like to enjoy our filet mignons without spoiling them with rotten conversation."
The two ate in relative silence, only breaking it to discuss trivial matters such as current events or little bits of gossip. Quidditch even arose as a topic despite Morgana having left her sporting past after her graduation at Mahoutokoro.
Enough idle conversation had passed for them to finish their meals and move into the living room.
"Now that we're here, tell me: where were you today?" Draco asked as he invited Morgana to sit next to him on the couch. They had opened a bottle of red wine after they had polished the little bottle of plum wine during dinner.
Morgana released a sigh as she sunk into the couch with wine glass in hand. "Your parents never told you what my parents did for a living, did they?" Draco shook his head. "We're contract takers. We get a job, we finish it, we move on. No mess is left behind, and no trace of us having ever been there. It pays well, Draco. After today's task, we have enough money to live as we do for the next couple of months and then have some left over for personal expenses.
"I don't want you to know what I do for each job, because each day is different. But none of what I do will lead back to you, little dragon."
"Why didn't you stop the war before it had started? Your parents could've destroyed Voldemort!" Draco exclaimed.
Morgana could hear the rapid beating of his heart as the words left his mouth. She held her head low. "They didn't because of me and the prophecy. Harry Potter was always the one to defeat Voldemort in the end - not my parents. And if something was to go wrong or loyalists turn against my family, I wouldn't be sitting here with you."
As the contents of the bottle dwindled lower, Morgana told more of herself and her family. She painted a lovely, dark, stormy picture of her powers and her family. Each scar, Draco soon learned, was a testament to her training and strength. In order to be the strongest, you had to have fallen to the strongest. She was burned and she was frozen. She felt hurt and she felt love. More than once had she been a breath away from death, and once could've possibly been in the shoes of death. Morgana was more powerful than Draco could have ever imagined. Not only were her physical capabilities beyond measure, her magical strength and knowledge was far beyond any textbook he could ever read. He felt like Morgana could've stopped the galaxies from shining if she wanted.
"What about you, Draco? Are there any girls of interest?" Morgana quickly turned with a smirk plastered across her delicate face. "When the great Prince of Slytherin isn't training with his little housemate, what does he do in his time?"
There was a slight blush to her cheeks and her lips were brighter too. Draco couldn't help but notice the little freckles underneath the corner of her eyes. "No girl of interest, but there is this incredible woman. She's a mystery to me, but she's heavenly."
"Who is this lovely goddess to have a leash that could possibly tame this dragon?" Morgana teased as she leaned in closer to him.
Her breath was sweet as Draco drew in a breath. He could see the soft, rosy glow on her cheeks and feel their heat. "A witch, of course." Draco's confidence was coming back to him. "A pureblood. Bit of a loose cannon, though, but Mother and Father approve of her."
Morgana quickly leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. In the brief moment the two were in contact, she felt a gentle warmth emit from him. It was as if it was a flame that was kept low, never growing more than just embers, behind walls of ice and stone. Morgana didn't want to lean away from him, but she knew it was rude and imprudent to linger longer, let alone to have kissed him without invite.
"I doubt this witch of yours can give you a kiss like that," Morgana lowly uttered. Her breath from her words blended with Draco's. They could feel each other's warmth. Without notice, Draco leaned back in for a deeper, longer kiss. Never being one to be surprised, Morgana nestled herself closer to him, but held back the want to tangle her hands in his platinum locks.
It was too soon when the two pulled apart. His icy eyes locked in on her coffee ones. Draco wanted to tell her that it was her that he spoke of, but couldn't bring himself to do it. Years of protecting his pride could not melt away by a kiss.
Morgana did not have the same problem as Draco. "That was some kiss, Draco," she breathed out. "Maybe we can do this some other time." Morgana gave his hand a squeeze and a quick kiss on the cheek before rising from their seat.
"Be ready to pick up training again tomorrow, little dragon."
