keegan delaney has always been a part of george weasley's life. they were never close, though they both were always there for the important moments. it's only after hogwarts when keegan gets a job in a cafè right across from weasley's wizard wheezes...
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CHAPTER THIRTEEN: WITH A KISS
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IN THE HEART OF muggle London, where the city life was at its peak, there was an Italian restaurant located by a small but nonetheless charming river. When the moon was full and bright, its reflection glistened across the water's surface, casting white shadows on the inky black shapes of nearby buildings. The restaurant was always dimly lit, warm yellow slinking out of the windows and the door, laughter and the clinking of cutlery echoing over the soft murmuring of voices. Keegan could see why George had taken to the place. The moment she stepped up to the door where a lady was waiting to seat each customer, she felt welcomed, the warmth hugging her tight like a blanket.
"Welcome to Taste of Rome." The server wasn't much older than Keegan herself, with platinum blonde hair curled into an elegant bun. On her chest was a royal blue and white name tag that read VERA in clear block letters. Pretty name. Keegan smiled at her, removing her beige coat and folding it over her arm. "Do you have a booking with us tonight, ma'am?"
"I do," Keegan nodded, glancing around almost warily. There were no customers waiting behind her, and the couple who had entered in just before were already seated at the opposite end of the room. So far, there was no redheaded boy in sight. Keegan wondered if she had the right restaurant... "Uh, it should be under George Weasley? In the secluded section, I believe he called it?"
Vera's eyes flashed with understanding. She nodded, closing up her reservation book and leading Keegan over to an adjacent hallway that was hidden behind a red velvet curtain. "Right this way, miss."
In the heart of muggle London, there was an Italian restaurant located by a small but nonetheless charming river. But this was no ordinary restaurant, nor was this an ordinary river. Keegan followed Vera down a flight of ornate stairs, eventually coming to a stop outside a plain series of doors. Some were open and showed storage rooms and bathrooms. Others were closed, bolted tight with gold padlocks. The one at the very end had no handle at all, but that didn't deter Vera nor Keegan. The former reached into the pocket of her apron, pulling out a familiar oak wood wand and tapping the door thrice, a golden knob seeping out of the wood.
"There aren't many magic folk down here tonight," Vera commented, gesturing in an off-handed way to the room where only a few tables were taken up.
The first thing Keegan noticed was the carpet. It was a vibrant shade of red, like that of a runway, the ceiling swirling with the dark shadows of water and the night sky. Taste of Rome catered to both muggle and magic folk, the owner being a company run by a well-known witch and her muggle husband. Upstairs, there were no signs of magic, just the average restaurant conveniently placed where most tourists came and went. Down below was a slightly smaller room hidden by magic chains and a lake, where the dishes were served by speaking to one's plate, an interesting little bit of magic that reminded Keegan a lot of Dumbledore's trick at the Yule Ball.
