malice. |harry potter|

1.1

"alright, go on then. i wanna see."

♥

Malice Fallon didn't think she had ever seen something as beautiful as platform nine and three-quarters of Kings Cross Station on September first.

The bustling crowds, the sounds of owls hooting in their cages, the sobbing Mums watching as their children leave for the first time. In fact, she was so entranced by everything going on around her that she didn't pay attention to anything before slamming into a rather large, cold looking man.

"Blimey! I'm sorry!" She exclaimed, frantically apologizing to the man as he pushed her away, and looked up. He had platinum hair that ran past his shoulders, broad arms, and was carrying a rather menacing cane. His cold, unfeeling gaze ran over her with a tinge of distaste, before finally replying.

"You really should watch where it is you walk to, Miss..." He trailed off.

"Fallon, sir. Malice Fallon." At this, the man seemed to be a bit interested, as he reached out his hand to shake.

"Lucius Malfoy. Any relation to a Rosalie Fallon?"

"That's my mum, sir."

"We went to school together," the man pondered, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully.

"She's just over there actually, if you wished to say hello." Mali pointed to a tall, beautiful woman, standing about a hundred feet away from the pair.

"I believe I shall. Though I must ask, I heard that Rosalie didn't have any children?"

"Well," the girl admitted. "We are not her children by blood. My sister Isla and I are both adopted."

   "Hm," He evaluated the girl, curly headed and darker-skinned, realizing that of course, this girl, pretty as she was, could not be Rosalie's daughter. "Pity."

"Pardon?"

"Not a thing. Draco!"

He called for who appeared to be his son, with matching platinum hair, though his was considerably shorter and gelled back. The boy wore a snotty smirk on his face. Malice couldn't help but think that this boy seemed to be an actor, that the sneer he displayed so proudly looked to be little more than a farce, plastered on to be intimidating.

"Miss Fallon, this is my son Draco. You are both going into your first year. Play nice, Draco."

Draco stuck out his hand. "Malfoy. Draco Malfoy." Mali had to stifle a giggle at his pompous demeanor, instead opting to covertly mock him. She stuck out a hand in the same way.

"Fallon. Malice Fallon," she managed to get out before dissolving into giggles.

"What's so funny?" Draco said with a sneer.

"Oh, nothing darling," she drawled, smiling in a condescending manner. "I jest, Draco. I'm sure we'll get on fabulously." Lucius looked away at that moment, chatting flatly with another stiff-looking man not too far from them. "Have you an idea of which house you'll be in?"

"Slytherin, for sure," said the boy, chest puffing with pompous pride. "My entire family's been in Slytherin, on both sides. You?"

"My sister's a Gryffindor," Mali said. "My mother was a Hufflepuff, and both of her parents were Slytherins. My father's parents were both Ravenclaws, from what I've heard, but I don't know much about them."

Draco made a face, and Mali was almost entirely sure that he was about to say something particularly nasty, when his father placed a hand on his shoulder.