I didn't like writing this much but it's necessary to understand a few major concepts in the story... so don't hate me, I promise I'll make it up to you. Thanks for all the marvelous reviews, I am so honoured to have such kind readers.


The Other Malfoy

Chapter Forty Three

When Aurelia arrived at the apartment, there wasn't anybody there. She thought perhaps George would be taking a lunch break but by the looks of things he hadn't. But Aurelia didn't mind. She could wait a while for him to come back upstairs, as he did when he needed a toilet break or to send a letter. He wouldn't be long.

Aurelia sat herself down on the couch opposite the fireplace when she saw she had sat down next to a bag. It certainly didn't look like the kind of bag that belonged to George – it was a large black leather bag with ornate gold buckles and clasps. Aurelia stared around the room again in case she'd missed something – but there wasn't anybody there.

So, doing what came naturally to her as a Slytherin, she invaded the privacy of whoever's bag it was by reaching over and opening the clasp to take a look inside.

There were a lot of things in there. Glasses case, hairbrush, diary – Aurelia opened the planner, also made of black leather, and saw a name written on the front page in a messy scrawl – after a moment of narrow-eyed deciphering, she saw that it read 'Property of Janelle Scrimgeour', followed by a post-office box address. Aurelia recognised the name but couldn't quite remember it.

There wasn't anything of much use in the planner, just the usual appointments and job interviews and stuff you'd find in a personal organiser. Aurelia put it down in favour of looking at some more interesting things – when to her great surprise, saw her name printed on a small piece of thin parchment.

She pulled it out of the bag, and found a small photo of herself stapled to the back, from her hearing not yesterday morning. There was a large red DRAFT stamp which covered the text. Aurelia frowned, and began to read the article.

Breaking news – the youngest daughter of the aristocrat Lucius Malfoy and his wife Narcissa, Aurelia Luciana Malfoy, who was missing and presumed dead since 1998 was yesterday seen at the Ministry of Magic with her parents, brother Draco and fiancée Astoria Greengrass, Head Auror Gawain Robards and his deputy Harry Potter, and George Weasley of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes in Diagon Alley. The unusual troupe answered no questions and did not make any statements to reporters, though it is believed Aurelia is in the middle of the recently uncovered Death Eater clans residing in Wales, whose hideouts were recently raided this month by Aurors and Unspeakables. The Malfoy's involvement in this issue is not yet known. It is believed that Mr Weasley has been housing Miss Malfoy until such a time as her own home is safe to return to. More on this story will be reported as it develops.

There were a few scrawls in red ink on the paper – one which said in heavily slanted writing 'Good work J – send thru final copy for front page. LK'.

Aurelia felt her chest tighten as though somebody were pulling tightly on a corset and her pulse began to pound in her ears and through the arteries in her neck with alarming force. A high pitched sound rang in her ears and she felt herself beginning to breathe unevenly.

Aurelia closed her eyes and took a deep breath, and forced herself to stay calm. Find George, she thought. George will fix this. He can fix anything.

She stood, grasping the paper in her hand and trying not to crumple it too much as she walked quickly through the house. She was about to head downstairs to the shop when she heard a voice coming from the hall. Aurelia paused and turned slowly.

"… sorry about the other night, George, but I –"

"No, no, not at all. I really can't stay and talk, I have to get back to the shop."

"I'm sure Verity won't mind you staying a little longer…"

Aurelia moved slowly, recognising George's voice and feeling both a little nervous and relieved at the same time. She stepped in front of the doorway to the study and nothing could have prepared her for what she saw next.

Aurelia saw George's hair first, as bright red and messy as ever, but then she saw two hands running through it. She had long dark hair and was wearing a dark blue blouse and black trousers, a pair of sturdy heels on her feet. Aurelia felt herself shake, but whether it was anger or rage she couldn't be sure, when she realised that her lips were attached to George's, and for a moment they stood there, with the strange woman pressed up against George, and he was simply letting her do it.

But then he placed both hands on the woman's shoulders and pushed her away, and said with a sigh, "No, Janelle, you know I don't –" His eyes landed on Aurelia in the doorway and they suddenly became very wide and very shocked.

"Aurelia!" he exclaimed, immediately letting go of Janelle, and rushing to the doorway – but Aurelia had turned and she felt adrenaline pumping through her veins as she ran back to the fireplace, wishing for a moment that she didn't run away every time something frightened her, but she was already crying before she'd reached the kitchen.


George felt a great cold hand gripping his heart in shock and horror at what had just happened, and as he heard the whooshing of the fireplace he was prepared to go straight after her – but then he realised he should rid himself of his guest before doing so.

He walked back down the hall and was ready to ask Janelle to leave when he saw Aurelia's face on a photograph, lying in the corridor. He reached down to pick it up and found a piece of parchment next to it, and as he was reading it Janelle walked out from the study.

"George, I –" she began but she froze when she saw what he was holding. "Where did you get that?"

"What is this?" George asked, unable to believe what he was reading. "You – you're writing about Aurelia? I thought you were a biographer!"

"I am, George," Janelle said, desperation seeping into her voice, "It's just that – I need to get good stories or I won't keep my job. Adriana said that –"

"So Adriana's in on this too?" George demanded, his voice louder than he meant, but unable to control his anger as his hands shook. "Do – do you realise how serious this is?"

"Please, I –"

"Do you have any idea how much she has gone through?" he hissed, pointing at the direction Aurelia had run. "Do you think this is all just a game to you, that you can violate someone's privacy for a good news story?"

Janelle was still trying to calm George down but he was not able to be calmed. "George, please, it's nothing –"

"It's front fucking page, Janelle!" George yelled. "Can I not trust any of you damned Scrimgeour girls? You can't even pretend to be my friend for a week before you ruin my life, before you ruin Aurelia's life!"

Janelle was now speechless as George tore up the picture and the paper, and he said in a low mutter, "Get out."

"I'm so –"

"Get out!" he growled. "And if I see anything in your damned paper by you about Aurelia I promise I won't let it slide."

Janelle opened her mouth to speak but George had already walked into the lounge room and grabbed her bag off the couch, threw it at her and walked back out of the room to his bedroom.


George threw himself on his bed, knowing he had to apologise to Aurelia but unable to do so in his current angry state. He had to calm down. He shoved his face into his palms and he groaned. He always managed to screw it up. She depended on him and he let her down – again.

Nice one mate, a familiar voice echoed in his mind.

"Piss off, Fred," George groaned. "I don't need you making me feel any worse."

You don't need my help there, George.

George sighed. He rarely had conversations in his head with his dead brother, it was usually only a smart comment here and there or his name every now and again like a forgotten tape recorder. But now it seemed Fred was very much alive in his mind, and times like these used to freak George out a bit. But he longed to hear his brother's voice.

"Help me out Freddie," he said, feeling the hot anger simmer down, replaced by his guilt and shame. "I can't seem to do anything right these days."

You're not dead.

"Lucky me," George muttered. His mind saw again and again the look on Aurelia's face as she stood in the doorway, her pale face looking sick with shock, her hands shaking, her skirt trailing behind her as she ran away…

Oh Merlin, thought George. Her skirt. She was wearing a new skirt. She'd come around to hang out and show George her new skirt and she'd found him being accosted by another woman.

Tosspot.

George sighed. He knew he wasn't going to solve any problems lying around. But he felt a little calmer now. He stood up to go downstairs, to tell Verity he was going out for a bit, leaving her and Oliver in charge of the shop, before he made his way to the fireplace to go to the Burrow.


She wasn't in the lounge, the kitchen, Charlie's room or any of the other bedrooms. She wasn't out the front with Molly in the garden or with Arthur in the shed. George tugged angrily at his hair as he tried to think of somewhere, anywhere that she could be.

"Why are you so flustered George?" asked Molly, frowning. "Nothing bad has happened, I hope?"

"Yes, but not – not life-threatening bad," he said. "I just made a mistake and I think I hurt Aurelia's feelings."

Molly's smile faded. "Oh, George," she said, a little too sadly, "We all make mistakes. I'm sure, when you find her, she'll forgive you in an instant."

"I hope so," he muttered, mostly to himself as he moved to go back inside to search some more, when he saw the tree house. He didn't know what made him think that she would be there, but he ran over to the old, rattly wooden house in the big oak tree. The ladder seemed a lot smaller than George remembered it being as he reached up and placed his hand on it, pausing for a moment before he pulled himself up and in less than three steps he was up the ladder.

Funny, it used to be a lot higher, too.

In the tiny little room, he saw her there, sitting beside the hole in the side of the hut they called a window with her head leaning against the wall, staring out at the countryside. She glanced at George but didn't smile, or frown, or make any facial expressions at all. Her eyes were red and she sat with her hands in her lap. George noticed she'd changed from her skirt and cardigan to jeans and a baggy old sweater.

"Why'd you change out of your skirt?" George asked, as he pulled himself into the tree house, moving to sit cross legged across from her. She didn't respond to his question in the slightest.

George sighed. He tried to find the right words to say. "Look Aurelia – I never meant to get close to Janelle. I didn't expect she was going to – to kiss me. Or anything like that. And I never thought she would betray me by writing that article about you."

Aurelia still did not reply but George saw a small tear escape from the inside corner of her eye and roll down to the edge of her nose. George felt like she'd taken a hold of his heart and pulled it out of his chest. It hurt so much to see her crying.

George crawled over to her and he sat beside her, and he brushed her hair back from her face, and he said quietly as he combed his fingertips through her golden hair, "I never meant to hurt you. I only want to make you happy."

He watched her for a moment before he said with a smile, "And by the way, you looked very pretty in your skirt." He gently pressed his lips to her head and let her hair fall back down.

He saw her eyes close and she let out a shaky breath, before she reached over and took his hand in hers, before holding it and resting both of their hands on the floor between them, and that's how they stayed for however long it was – just holding hands, not having to say anything. Because George understood then that nothing he could do would be bad enough that Aurelia couldn't forgive him.

But he never wanted to see her cry again.