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ix. NINE
ON THE RISE
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AFTER THE FIRST SCHOOL TERM, CHRISTMAS HAD BEEN AND GONE FAIRLY QUICKLY. She'd decided that rather than interfere with the Malfoy family's lives too much, she'd go out for the day so that her aunt and uncle could fawn over their son just that little bit more. Draco had, as expected, been given gift after gift, and each one was priced reasonably high. Melora, however, had been given several smaller presents.
Amongst those, was another small gift, but one that was valued far more than all of Draco's presents combined. For she had been given a locket, that she had later discovered to have belonged to Salazar Slytherin. She would have to be honest, she was honoured to own it. But the question of how her aunt and uncle managed to get their hands on it, lingered in her mind. And also: Why her? Why not Draco, their own son?
The day before, she'd sent an owl off to Ilia to ask her to spend the day with her, so that she could get away from the Malfoys for just a while. With the owl safely back with Ilia's response the following day, Melora was then able to leave the manor early in the morning to head to London, in which she could pass through the Leaky Cauldron and get into Diagon Alley. It wasn't very stereotypical of her to go there; most people would expect her to take an immediate turn and head down Knockturn. However, the girl then found herself seated at a fairly regular ice cream parlour, awaiting her friend's arrival.
The few people who wandered down the street gave her odd looks as they passed her by, most likely wondering what she was doing alone on a day usually dedicated to family time. But, given the option, she would much rather spend time away from them than with them. They didn't exactly relate to her on any level, and she had grown to learn that she would always be excluded. She wasn't a true Malfoy, she knew that, and they knew that. She didn't blame them for not including her. But sometimes it was difficult for her to live her life in such a lonely manner through everything.
"So, what issue are we dealing with today?" a familiar voice said, and Melora couldn't help but smile at the sound of it. She glanced up to see Ilia walking over towards her, a similar grin planted on her face as well. "Wait - let me guess. Your family is sickening you."
"Well, that's one of the problems, anyway," she sighed. "We could be here for a while if you want to list all of them."
"Don't tell me Prescott has been sending you owls," Ilia groaned, her head collapsing into her hands in her misery. "She needs to get over herself, honestly. If you really like-"
"I don't," she stated sharply.
Ilia paused, doubtful, and tried to redeem herself, "OK, so whoever you want to end up with, she shouldn't care. She has a boyfriend, right? Why would she care if she's already sorted?"
"Nice try, Ilia, but I don't think Prescott would ever want a Weasley," Melora shrugged, before she stopped and gave Ilia a warning look. "And, for the record, neither do I."
Ilia gave her a look that said 'yeah right, quit lying' before smiling and shaking her head. They were given their ice creams shortly afterwards, and Ilia was quick to demolish it and order more. She wasn't even overweight - at all - and Melora envied her for the amount of food she could consume and the minimal weight she gained from it all.
It didn't take long for the conversation to drift elsewhere. She was thankful that George had become a distant memory for them, because - quite frankly - she got uncomfortable whenever he was mentioned. She suspected it was because he'd only ever gotten her into trouble whenever they had really spoken. That was, at least, the most obvious answer.
"Well, since we're on the topic of romance-" Ilia smirked, earning an eyeroll in response from Melora, "-I'll ask how things are with the ideas for your cousin's future wife?"
Melora scoffed. "They haven't found anyone they like yet. Although, I have a feeling they're going to let Draco choose for himself, somehow. More lenient than my parents would have been, I reckon. Either way, I just really hope he doesn't choose Parkinson."
At this, Ilia laughed, covering her mouth with her hand as to try and stop any ice cream from falling out. Melora didn't find what she had said too funny, but Ilia's reaction seemed to prove that it was more so than she thought.
"You're so against relationships, Melora, it's hilarious," she chuckled. "Perhaps they'd be happy. You never know."
"Well, I wouldn't go that far," she shook her head quickly, the plastic spoon she was using to eat with tumbling into her melting food. "Parkinson is way more into it than Draco is. And also, he's quite uncomfortable with being romantic with her. I mean, they've been close friends for years - I think he looks at them like brother and sister."
"That's disgusting!" Ilia shrieked. "Aren't you glad your aunt and uncle didn't get you married off? You'd be gone by the end of this year - and that's pretty scary to think about."
Melora nodded thoughtfully, "Probably another benefit to my parents being in Azkaban. Narcissa wouldn't know what to do with herself if she'd raised her sister's daughter in the wrong way."
"Bellatrix wouldn't ever find out though, so I don't see why they're so worked up about it," Ilia shrugged, shoving several more spoonfuls of ice cream into her awaiting mouth. "Although, with You-Know-Who on the rise, who knows what's possible."
She smirked at her friend's innocence. "You actually believe that Voldemort is coming back?" Ilia tensed at the sound of his name, much like many other witches and wizards did. But Melora didn't mind using it. She had been taught to call him by a more respectable name, such as 'The Dark Lord' or at least 'Lord Voldemort'. But Voldemort would do when she wasn't trying to impress anyone. "Of course, I do too. But it seems that we're part of the few who do."
"We should be careful," Ilia added quietly. "You'll never know who's listening in on your conversations. And they always seem to hear the parts you don't want them to."
"Quit being paranoid - nobody cares what we have to say," Melora sighed, a little loudly. Ilia had finished her ice cream, and Melora finished digging around the bottom of the cup of hers, before the two stood up to leave. As they wandered the street, she added, slightly miserably, "And whether or not he's back doesn't affect the location of my parents. They are, and shall remain, in Azkaban. It's the most highly secure prison in the wizarding world, guarded by Dementors. As if they could ever get out."
Ilia had brought them to a stop outside the shop full of Quidditch supplies, in order for her to inspect each and every broom cleaner on display. Her Nimbus 2001 in which she had been given in her fourth year, was now falling apart. She couldn't be bothered to replace it for a few months, and so had resorted to repairing it with spells, and caring for it with whatever supplies she could get her hands on.
"Have you seen Montague's brother since he left Hogwarts?" Ilia rather suddenly piped up with, whilst admiring the newest racing brooms that had been placed nearest to the window.
"Uh, no, I haven't," she said, taken aback at how her friend could remember their first Quidditch Captain so randomly. It was odd, to say the least. "Gladly, too. He was unbelievably arrogant."
Ilia smirked at her friend as she spoke. Clearly, Melora and the Montague family wouldn't ever quite see eye to eye.
