thirteen.

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CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Welcome To High Society, Mallory!
April 19th, 1979.

Mallory didn't know how she made it there–or how she even accepted. The idea seemed absurd but when Regulus proposed it to her, she couldn't bring herself to refuse. Narcissa Malfoy had invited Mallory to a fitting session for the upcoming ball she was organising, apparently they were very famous in their side of their world. Regulus even went as far as telling her that women used to fight to attend. So, it even felt disrespectful to say no. Besides, he would come with her but wouldn't be able to be in the room.

"How wonderful it is to see you," Narcissa exclaimed, seeing her walk upstairs to the parlour. Surprisingly, she embraced her into a hug as Mallory returned it shortly after. "I was surprised to hear that you were coming. Regulus told me you were not into these kinds of things."

"Well, as you can see Cissa, I was wrong," Regulus said with a snort, his hand on Mallory's lower back. "Is Lucius there? I was hoping to discuss with him while you two were trying on dresses."

Narcissa nodded, "In his office."

"Thank you, Cissa."

Mallory watched as he walked away, at some point he turned his head to glance at her and was surprised to see her staring. He waved shyly before turning on his left towards Lucius's office, she presumed. It was Narcissa's cheeky laugh that brought her back.

"Ah, young love," she teased, though Mallory didn't reply. "You're good for Reg."

"I try to," Mallory replied shyly, fidgeting with her fingers. "He's good too."

Narcissa smiled gently, "I have no doubts that my cousin is good to you. He is perhaps the most noble in this family."

Mallory didn't answer but smiled as she followed Narcissa throughout the manor until they reached a fitting room where dresses hung all around the room with heels that went with them. Mallory sat down on the nearest armchair, looking around. She wasn't particularly fond of dresses such as the ones Narcissa loved, but she had to admit that it was pretty amazing. Mallory wasn't poor, her parents were wealthy but she presumed that she hadn't bathed in that type of rich before. Her mother never cared for such expensive dresses, and her father hated tuxedos. It was always complicated to make him wear one at his events.

"Take one," Narcissa said, breaking the silence. "Choose wisely, it'll be yours," she added.

Mallory shook her head, wrapping her hands around the hot cup of tea that Dobby had brought earlier, "I can't. I was never one to wear dresses, I wouldn't know where to begin," she admitted with a shy smile. "Perhaps, choose it for me."

"I can do that," Narcissa said, nodding her head in a thoughtful manner as she rose to her feet and started to browse through the dresses. "You have porcelain skin so I'd say that red is a good colour for you. Even ruby red, do you agree?" Before she could answer, Narcissa was already pulling out a few ruby red dresses. "There you go, love. There are a variety of choices."

"Am I supposed to try them all?"

"Surely."

Mallory nodded her head, scanning the dresses and opted for a long yet short dress that stopped right above the knees. Mallory's mother always told her that she had long legs and that they were better uncovered. So, for once, Mallory listened to her mum when it came to fashion and slipped on the dress. As she watched herself in the mirror, she found herself thinking of how much things had changed the past months, how she had traded pants and t-shirts with dresses and heels, how she spent more time with Regulus than her own friends.

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