As a child Malou had loved Christmas time, the feeling of being wrapped in the warm love of her family, the ritual comfort of church services, the excited magic of being a child. It was different now that she had grown. If she were honest with herself, it was different now that her parents were no longer with them. Every year Mrs. Bagshot invited her to her home, and every year Malou volunteered to work Christmas Eve and early Christmas day. The dreaded night shift that nobody wanted. She'd walk home from work and attend a service then spend the rest of the day in quiet until Fallon had gotten home. But this year was different. Or at least where she would go after her Christmas eve night shift. Instead she'd floo back to Mrs. Bagshot's and feel as if she were intruding on a family's private celebrations - which she very much would be doing.

The days that led up to Christmas through all of this into stark contrast with her memories. It wasn't so much as she didn't like the holiday season, but more so the memories it brought back, the realization of just how much she had lost that summer. After all, her last memories of her parents were the Christmas of her seventh year. Yet Malou dutifully attended holiday parties and dinners.... and apparently balls.

She still wasn't entirely sure how she had received an invitation to Mrs. Longbottom's ball as Mrs. Bagshot had informed her it was quite a select crowd, mainly the intimates to the large Longbottom-Potter family, and yet here Malou was standing in a gown of pale rose gold, adorned with flowers of a darker shade and lace of white, the edging almost gold peach color, on the edges of Mrs. Longbottom's ballroom. Surprisingly Malou had been actually been looking forward to this evening. Or rather, she was very well aware of the one person whom might be in attendence, and she very much wanted to see him.

Mrs. Bagshot was holding court beside her, while Malou did her best not to appear to be looking for anyone in particular when one of the ladies' daughters pulled her into conversation. She knew Rosamund it appear as such it gave them a common topic. How was the hospital? Did she ever get tired of it? And so on and so forth. But Malou's attention stopped suddenly at the apperance of a gentleman in the perifery of her vision. There was no mistaking his form, his hair, his stance which led to her heart and stomach seeming to start to leap as if in a dance. She held herself still, almost forgetting to breathe as he stopped near her. In fact she'd forgotten entirely that she'd been talking to someone. Then she heard his voice and warmth flushed her cheeks as she realized just how farmiliar it had become. Now the girl was asking if she was alright, Malou most have missed her question, her body heightened as it were, but still he did not step into conversation and she stayed tense as she assured the girl she was fine and asked politely if she could repeat the question.

In the background the song ended and the musicians began to prepare for the next as the couples who had been dancing returned to the sides of the room in search for new partners. And yet the only thing Malou took any great notice of was the voice of Mr. Faustus Prewett so very close to her.