"I am quite certain," Malou began, "That JP and S would not have simply continued writing without wishing for and requesting to meet." While Malou had not been the one writing the letters, she had always held on to that thought, despite the fact that she would never have classified herself as a romantic. However, it seemed hard to think of it turning out any other way with the way Fallon had told her of the letters and the hasty back and forth that had come from it. Nor did it seem to Malou that Mr. Hatchitt would have allowed it to continue like that forever, given what she now knew his reaction had been when Fallon, or as he knew her in those days 'S', had disappeared. No, it only seemed natural that the two would have wanted to meet one day and then they might have fallen for each other with more ease and less confusion then had happened. Or it could have been that Fallon would have contined to run into Mr. MacFusty out and about and he might have stolen her heart in a less violent and more healthy way then he had. But given that Fallon had chosen Mr. Hatchitt and the pain of Mr. MacFusty was still very much lingering in the unspoken edges of their conversation Malou did not feel it prudent to mention this.
"
You're the difficult friend?" Malou laughed. "Never." She shook her head, although she found she had a tough time finding a way to tease Fallon about it.
Instead she looked down at their couch, the soft fabric worn beneath them. She still remembered when her godfather had brought the couch to their flat for her. It wasn't the one that had been in her family's manor, the soft blue velvet with its gold embroidery was a staple of her childhood that she knew she would never obtain, but rather a soft emerald velvet that her godmother had insisted on giving her. It had once sat in the Bagshots' morning room before her godmother had conveniently decided to redecorate the summer that Malou had lost her parents. The fact that the project had been undertaken before Malou had announced her departure from the Bagshots' home had been the main reason she had accepted such charity, because she knew the couch would have left the room regardless and not just for her sake. The couch reminded Malou of the Slytherin common room though, and she had indulged in such decorating as her emphasis the connection in subtle ways. Knitting a blanket of silverish gray yarn entwined with a golden pattern to pull warm colors into the room. Indeed, it was sad to think that all her work to make it a home for the girls might soon vanish, that she had carefully tailored it to both their tastes' and their past might soon matter for little when Fallon eventually married and started a household of her own. What would Malou do then? Would she be content to live on her own, would she move back to Hosgmeade and the elegant house of the Bagshots' whose door she knew would always be open to her?
Malou realized a moment too late she had been quiet too long and shook herself from her reverie. "I should like to think that even if we are both difficult, our friendship is strong enough to handle it." She admitted, meeting Fallon's eyes as her gentle confession passed between them. She smiled softly, "Or perhaps," Here she found herself blushing a bit at the presumption as she knew Fallon had siblings and she did not, "It is more a sisterhood then a friendship." Oh how she sounded of the shy eleven year old who had just met Fallon with those words, but despite her own nerves, there was a truth to the words that had Marie-Louise's sky blue gaze pinned to Fallon's own gaze.
![[Image: MrLhLvF.png]](https://i.imgur.com/MrLhLvF.png)