August 22, 1890 - London Flat

There had been a time when the extent of Malou’s cooking abilities had been burned glops of porridge that Fallon insisted didn’t even deserve the name, but in the five years since Malou’s first attempts she had grown quite happy with the success of her meals. If she hadn’t it was quite possible that Fallon and herself might have starved over the years. But Malou had been determined to learn. She’d gotten lessons from her godmother’s cook (not that anyone approved of the plan any more than her own life plan) and since had been able to make meals that were increasingly more talented. Like this morning, the porridge was a long cry from her first attempt, the smell of coveted spices rising from the pot and the scent of biscuits wafted through the loft.

As was her habit Malou had risen at the barest rays of sun crossing the sky and had padded to the kitchen quietly to prepare their food. It would be a long day, as Fallon and herself, both would spend it with the rest of the quidditch community watching the world cup. Malou wasn’t the least bit excited about this venture (in fact the only reason she was attending was her godmother forcing her hand) but Fallon had been excited about the prospect for days since she won her department’s lottery for a ticket.

Malou was just taking the biscuits out of the oven when Fallon made her way into the kitchen. It didn’t take thirteen years of friendship to realize Fallon was not a morning person with the zombie-like state the woman seemed in in the morning, but Malou had known this for thirteen years and smiled at Fallon. “Good morning.” She murmured, dishing out a bowl of porridge for her friend and setting it on the table for her.


@"Fallon Abernathy"

  

---

The bags under her eyes were the sign of another late night spent at work and arguing via letter with the Oaf. She hadn't meant to call him a misogynist, not directly anyway, but he irked her so terribly at times she couldn't get him out from under her skin. It didn't help that they were still operating under the guise of an acquaintanceship. What the bloody hell was an acquaintanceship?!

She stumbled out of bed, her hair a mess and ink stained fingers rubbing tiredly at her eyes. Not even the prospect of attending the World Cup match was enough to rouse excitement. Not yet, anyway.

"Morning," she grumbled and flopped into her chair, thankful as always for Malou. Without her, Fallon would survive only on burnt ministry coffee. "Smells delicious, thank you," was her repeated mantra each morning Malou was around to make breakfast. She had a bite, then two. Before setting down her spoon rather abruptly and asking, "do you know what an acquaintanceship is?"

  

Fallon’s reaction was the same as always and it made Malou smile softly to herself, a slight edge of pride to it. Smells delicious hadn’t always been Fallon’s phrase. Malou turned her back to Fallon and spooned herself a serving as well.

She was just sitting down when Fallon spoke again. “Someone you’ve just met and have had little conversation with?” Malou suggested, taking a bite of the warm porridge. It seemed a question that was either too easy to be asked or too philosophical to consider for this early in Fallon’s morning. “Why?”

  

---

That was an apt description for her relationship with the Oaf, but the term didn't fit comfortably. Neither did friendship, for that matter, but then what was left?

"Mr. MacFusty," she answered as though that would be an explanation in itself. Fallon had ranted about the man to her friend more than once. "He mentioned us having an acquaintanceship, and is that a thing? Do men and women do that? I know my letters with JP aren't an acquaintanceship...but he doesn't really count...not totally anyway." She gradually woke up more as she rambled, until finally her eyes were wide open and her hands moving about.

  

“I think it is a thing between men and women.” Malou mused. “I don’t know that there is anything to call it unless it became a friendship...or a courtship.” The last suggestion was a quiet tease which had her eyes on Fallon. She’d heard enough about Mr. MacFusty to suspect that there might be something more than caught the eye.

  

---

A courtship?! They could barely go five minutes without being snippy with one another. It was hardly the makings of a successful courtship, not that Fallon was thinking or had any hopes it would bend in that direction. Did she find him handsome? Yes, but that didn't mean they were meant to be together!

"I doubt we're heading anywhere near a courtship," she refuted before taking a bite of her porridge. "And even if we were - which we're not - acquaintanceships aren't ... I don't know, Malou. He's just so infuriating."

  

Malou giggled, “You don’t know what?” Unlike Fallon Malou was a morning person and a playful lilt tilted her next words, “That acquaintanceship doesn’t seem quite right for Mr. Macfusty?” Affecting an air that this was all perfectly simple Malou focused back on her bowl.

  

---

Malou's laughter frustrated her. It was too damn early for this - for these feelings. Fallon stood from the table and walked to the kettle to set about making herself coffee. "I don't know. Would you call an acquaintance a misogynist?"

  

“Oh Fallon, I doubt he would go out of his way to write you if he were.” Malou turned in her seat to watch her friend. “Afterall it seems an awful lot of energy to write someone you hate.” Not that Malou had any experience in that department, in fact she was almost afraid to. She would have to give up everything if she did. Giving up the life she had once known had been one thing, to give up the life she had worked for was another.

  

---

"Obviously not," she answered. "He doubted my abilities as an auror because I'm short. Called me tiny!" All claims he disputed, but still! The accusations were there nevertheless.

  

"Surely that wasn't all that was in the letter." Malou couldnt imagine anyone taking the time to write to Express only that view. "What else did he write?"

  

---

What else did he say?! Was that not enough? Fallon groaned and poured herself a large mug of coffee before dropping back into her chair. "That he wouldn't have pursued an acquaintanceship with me if I was a six foot tall oaf of a man."

  

"And that makes him a misogynist how?" Malou tilted her head as Fallon sat back down. "I think he is teasing you...and wants an excuse to keep writing you." Having seen how indignant Fallon could get when teased Malou would be equally tempted, but there was definitely something that Fallon was missing in his words, so intent on viewing him as an oaf she was.

  

---

"It doesn't," she stated. The use of misogynist hadn't been intentional, but once aired she couldn't dial it back. The fact that he was surprised to see a short woman auror was offensive, but such was the view of Society. "Right. Because we're acquaintances."

Merlin. All Fallon wanted to do was go back to bed.

  

"For now." Malou shrugged lightly.

"Besides, you cant deny you are excited to watch him in the match today." Perhaps the thought of the match would lift her roommate's feelings and her enthusiasm might be contagious enough that Malou might not dread the day's plans

  

---

"No, I can't." Fallon snuck in another three bites of her porridge. How could such a simple breakfast taste so good?! "He promised to hit a Moroccan for me. I mean, obviously he'll be trying to do that anyway." The promise was still there, though. "And getting to watch from so high up will be amazing. I'm sorry I didn't offer you my plus one ticket. I didn't think you'd want to go."