[Galen Yardley]

Fourty-three. Galen looked in the mirror with a raised eyebrow. Did he look old enough to pass? His fingers stroked through his black hair. Maybe it was time to consider letting his natural grey show? He'd thought about it before, but wizards stayed youthful for longer, didn't they? It was fine if he didn't change anything, was it?

Galen concentrated and let the colour of his hair fade to its natural state. A few silver strands appeared and honestly didn't look half bad. Still, no matter how natural, it just didn't feel right. He shock his head and almost instantly his hair turned dark again. Better.

He could hear the voice of his mother in his mind. She wouldn't approve and never had. His current look just didn't sit well with her in general. However, it felt more comfortable to him. He liked being taller and more muscular. He'd spent so much time impersonating European-looking wizards he'd gotten used to certain things. All his mom seemed to know how to was nag. Galen felt resentful of it. He'd gotten them out of Japan with his talents, but instead of being grateful she was just being difficult.

You don't look like a proper Korean, she'd accuse him as if that was of any consequence to anybody. It was frustrating how 15 years later she could still rile him up with the same few sentences, even when she wasn't around.

Galen turned his back to the mirror. Her opinion didn't matter. It shouldn't matter and yet here he was fretting about it.

And it was time to head downstairs. Though the shop had only ever been intended as cover, he actually enjoyed running it. One day, when he could afford to retire from the ministry, he would run it in earnest. For a while anyway. Until he got bored. Okay, he'd get bored.

It was raining outside, so rather unsurprising Doldori was excited and happily bounced alongside Galen as he went to unlock the door. The magical umbrella creature naturally loved rainy days and always enjoyed entertaining the shopper's at Galen's little store. Not many British witches and wizards had ever seen a kasa-obake, meaning it usually received a lot of attention. Some, of the wizarding children had even asked if they could pet it.

As was the case most mornings, they store was quiet. Galen looked at the shop across the street from his. They seemed to be having a slow day as well. He smiled. That probably meant that Dhanya would be over shortly for a cup of tea. Real tea, not the stuff the British liked to partake in.

[Dhanya Raveendran]

Dhanya gave a delighted smile. It was raining outside. While not generally a fan of rain, she was fond of the little ritual she had developed with Galen from across the road. When their shops weren't busy they would have a cup of tea together and talk. It was one of the few constants in Dhanya's life and therefore something she cherished. Years ago, Galen had hired her for her first job in Britain. Though they were no longer boss and employee, they had since become fast friends and colleagues. Bird of a feather, peas in a pod. She wasn't quite sure what expression she'd use, but as two foreigners in Britain they faced a lot of similar struggles. It was nice to have somebody to talk to.

Looking out of the window and across the road she watched Galen's kasa-obake play in the rain. The umbrella-creature had slipped outside and spread open. It really was a curious thing. Seemingly made from white paper it never got wet or dirty, no matter the weather outside. Until meeting Galen, Dhanya had never seen anything like it. Maybe one day she would get to visit Japan and learn more about its magical beasts and beings. The thought appealed, but for the time being travel was out of the question. Her business was here in London and she had worked to hard to establish it to risk anything going wrong.

Today, was her turn to prepare the tea. Last time, Galen had made her a lotus flower tea that had tested delicious and looked very impressive in the bowl he'd prepared it in, a fresh flower floating in the centre. This time, she'd repay the favour with some sulaimani chai. Their exchanges had once started as introducing each other to teas from their come countries, but had grown into a tongue-in-cheek competition as to who could serve the most elaborate brew. She'd even owled her grandmother for a recipe for this one. So it better impress Galen.

A good fifteen minutes later she had two cups on a little tray and made her way across the road. Glancing at Galen she decided that there was something wrong with him today. Her friend always looked well put-together in his white button-up shirts and expensive suits, but today he seemed too immaculate. Sterile, she decided was the right word for it. She'd seen this before, whenever Galen had something on his mind he overcompensated by trying to appear extra polished.

"Everything alright?" She asked in his direction, not really expecting much of an answer. "Slow day today, isn't it?"

[Galen Yardley]

"Slow day, indeed," Galen confirmed, and his eyes met Dhanya's. For a moment they just held each other's gaze in silence. He considered how to answer her question. No, things weren't alright. He let out a deep sigh. He knew that was probably all Dhanya needed to understand. She'd always been good at reading him and was one of the few people in London who could claim to truly know him.

"Let's enjoy the tea you brought," Galen said and began clearing his desk in the back room to create a free surface. "It smells intriguing." He thought he could make out cinnamon, gloves, and ginger. It certainly wasn't a combination he'd have tried on his own accord, but wasn't that the point of their little exchange?

He sat and let Dhanya pass him one of the cups. "Gorgeous," he commented after taking a sip. "Thank you, Dhanya." The silence that spread between them was an easy one. It was one of the pillars of their friendship. Their silences had always been comfortable and filled with mutual understanding.

"You know, I've gotten a curious piece of new merchandise in not that long ago. It's a mirror with some sort of enchantment on it, but I can't quite work out exactly what it does." Galen indicated in the direction of mirror framed in carved mango wood. "Every time I look at it the reflection shows me working in a garden. I wonder what that means."

He had carefully omitted the fact that he kept seeing himself in the garden with Dhanya. He was curious what would happen when she looked in the mirror. Would she see the same as him? Would he be featured among the things she saw?  Did it show the future? It seemed unlikely. Neither him nor Dhanya had a garden, at least that he knew of. Maybe there was something she hadn't told him.