I actually have no idea where this story was actually going, and I don't think I knew when I was writing it either. It's just a bit weird.
I should seriously edit these parts, but trust me. There is actual plot line. Soon. When I get time.
Ignore all my pointless OCs.
The Other Malfoy
Chapter Four
They walked towards the club, and an ornate floating sign above the door told them where they were – the Atlantis.
"Atlantis, as in the Lost City Of?" Oliver said with a small smile. "Sounds promising."
"Sounds weird," George muttered back.
They wandered through the small crowd, and George got a few looks from the witches and wizards around him. He was a little bit of a celebrity around Diagon Alley these days, what with Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes doing so well. He flashed a brief smile before walking up to the door.
Walking through the door, George noticed a small age line floating just above the floor. So the people outside were underage, he noted. It wasn't an all ages place. That always made things better. There was nothing worse than dancing with a pretty girl, buying her a drink then hearing her let slip that she was in fact only sixteen.
It had happened before. And Fred couldn't make fun of him enough.
Oliver followed George through the door, and they looked around. It was dim, but it wasn't too dark. It wasn't that late yet, though, and they'd probably turn the lights lower later on in the night. It was very flash and fancy, everything looked quite fashionable, both the furniture and the people. George felt slightly underdressed as he glanced at all the fancy vests and dresses brushing past him, even if it was casual Friday.
Oliver brushed down his coat, and he said, "Well George, are you prepared?"
"As ready as I'll ever be," George replied, but Oliver wasn't listening. He was already wandering through the crowd, seemingly casual but George knew he had a very keen eye. All those years of being keeper had done him well.
George leaned against the counter of the bar, and he looked around. There were many good looking girls, but a lot of them already had somebody standing next to them. There were some large groups of girls but George was on the lookout for somebody independent. He didn't want to have to charm more than one girl at once, and when you try to catch a girl in a large group you usually end up having to chat up the entire group. And then it's just havoc.
George rubbed his eyes, and he ran a hand through his hair. He figured he'd just wait it out. Patience was the key.
He had tried to keep a relationship going, but since he'd lost Fred, all hopes of steady relationships had faded. Fred was his wing man, Fred was the one he went to for advice. George didn't want to have to try to love someone. He just wanted it to happen. Fred always knew what was good for him, and he always knew how to make things work. George felt so lost without him and he usually ended up losing whoever it was he had found.
He sighed, and tried to stop thinking about Fred so much. He was here to have fun. He was here to get a bit drunk and dance with pretty girls. Fred would have wanted him to throw a sly wink and have them all lining up at the door.
You'll have to beat them off with a stick.
George started, blinking, and looking around before he calmed himself, his accelerated heartbeat making his hands shake. He couldn't stop hearing Fred's voice. It had been two years and he regularly heard Fred's voice echoing in his mind, a voice that laughed and teased him whenever he was being an idiot, whenever he was thinking hard about something, throwing useless advice his way.
There was a part of him that would never leave.
George noticed through his unfocused eyes that somebody was approaching him. He refocused, and he instantly smiled, as a knee-jerk reaction. It was girl.
She had short dark hair, a small round nose and a heart shaped face. Her eyes were electric blue and she had a small dusting of freckles on her cheeks, her ochre skin not smothered in makeup. She wore a plain blue dress and brown stockings, brown leather lace up heels and a brown leather jacket. She had a small cameo charm around her neck and she smiled with perfectly straight teeth up at George.
"George Weasley, isn't it?" she asked in a smooth voice, the slightest hint of a Welsh accent under her words.
George nodded. "That's me," he replied, "Might I enquire as to who you might be?"
"My name is Tabitha Kendall," she replied, holding out her hand to shake his.
George took her hand and he said, "Pleasure to meet you, Miss Kendall," and kissed her hand. He felt a little unnerved – Fred's voice had put him on edge.
Tabitha smiled. "You're quite the charmer."
"I like to keep a good reputation," he replied with a half smile. "Would you like a drink?"
"Oh, I'm alright, thanks." She flicked back a strand of hair from her eyes. "I think we've met once before."
"Really?" George asked. "I'm sorry, I don't remember."
"It was at your shop, about three years ago," she said. "I bought a heap of your sleeping potions."
George suppressed a frown and instead managed to grimace. "Ah – I'm sorry. That might've been my brother."
Tabitha's smile faded slightly. Slightly flustered, she began to apologise, but George shook it off and asked her whether she went to Hogwarts.
She nodded. "I was a few years below you and your brother. I finished last year."
Nineteen, George thought. Not so bad, and she seemed nice. "You would have been there when Snape was headmaster," George said with a small laugh. "That would have been a hoot."
Tabitha rolled her eyes. "You have no idea. It was so depressing. My mum took me out halfway through and enrolled me into Beauxbatons, but they didn't get back to us until it was the summer holidays, and by that time Hogwarts had reopened with McGonagall as Headmaster."
"So you were home schooled for a while?" George asked. "I suppose a whole lot of kids were. Even Hogwarts wasn't safe back then."
"It was better than most places," Tabitha said. "Besides, it's just about back to normal now, isn't it? Everything's getting better again. I mean, this is the first new club to have opened in Diagon Alley for years – it took them all that time to reopen all the old shops, and Madame Malkin's place is still getting repaired."
George liked the way she talked so much. She was quick, she was pretty. She had a nice nature, she was entertaining without being annoying. They fetched themselves a few drinks and some firewhiskey shots and found themselves a seat at the bar.
Tabitha had just got herself a job at Ollivander's as a personal assistant, and had secured herself an apprenticeship in wand making. She was excited as to the prospect of wand making – it was an incredibly good trade and the opportunities to travel were amazing.
George noticed something odd about Tabitha – her hair seemed to change colour. It was difficult to tell, but he noticed it changing more often, and it wasn't just because of the flashing lights. It was darker now, and difficult to tell, but he knew it wasn't a trick of the light.
"Tabitha, is your hair changing colour?" he asked, as soon as a gap arose in the conversation.
Tabitha smiled in an almost private way. "Indeed it is. Very observant of you, Mr. Weasley."
"Well, you were kind enough to notice that I was missing an ear, I might as well acknowledge the fact that you seem to have chameleon hair."
Tabitha laughed. "Chameleon is a word for it. I'm a metamorphmagus."
George paused, before a smile appeared on his face. It was a genuine smile. He loved Teddy Tonks, who was a metamorphmagus like his mother. George missed Tonks and her brilliant sense of humour and her equally brilliant hair. She was an amazing woman and Teddy was all that and more – he looked every part like his father when he wasn't changing faces, and he had Tonks' big dark eyes.
"I know a kid who is a metamorphmagus," George said. "He's brilliant. I bet you have a lot of fun with that."
Tabitha nodded. "My abilities aren't as strong as some – I can't change the shape of my face, I can only change the colour of my hair and eyes. Is your friend a full metamorphmagus?"
"Yeah, Teddy's only a toddler but he's already got the hang of copying people's faces. He's a real laugh," George said.
Tabitha smiled. "I think I'd like to meet Teddy. He sounds cute."
"He is cute," George replied. "And if you'd like to meet him, I'm sure it wouldn't be a problem. I'm babysitting him next weekend."
Tabitha smiled and brushed the hair back from her face. It might have been the alcohol or it might have been George being lonely, but she seemed so pretty. George leaned over and he said to her, "This place is getting a little busy. Did you want to go back to mine?"
Tabitha paused for a moment, before she smiled a little and said, "I'd love to, George, but – I'm not too sure. I have to get home."
George nodded, feeling a little embarrassed.
"Maybe next time?"
He looked back and her big blue eyes shone up at him and he grinned. "Of course."
