A Friend

Elladora was singing to herself as she bent over her embroidery, the bangles on her wrist jangling every time she raised her wand to tap a strand of silken thread and subtly alter its colour.

"You know you shouldn't really be doing that," Phineas warned, but his heart wasn't really in the reprimand, looking at her flushed cheeks and irrepressible smile.

"Two days until I come of age," Elladora said, tossing an empty spool of thread at him. "Then watch me pay attention to any of your rules, oh lord-and-master-of-the-house."

"Well, the rules only apply until you come of age, don't they?" said Phineas. "And they're not my rules, anyway, it's the law."

Elladora gave him an exaggerated roll of the eyes. "Well, they can't tell who's doing magic in this house, so it doesn't matter," she said. "Soon Iola will be the only one of us with the Trace on her."

Iola had been poring over some homework. She looked up, distracted. "What? Me?"

Elladora laughed, so infectiously that Phineas had to smile too. "Never mind. We were just talking about how you're still a baby, and how—"

"—you're coming of age in two days?" finished Iola, dimpling mischievously. "Are you sure? Phineas, did you know Dora's coming of age in two days?"

Phineas laughed. "Now that you mention it, I'm not sure," he said. "Elladora, are you really coming of age in two days? You've kept it very quiet."

"You can both laugh," said Elladora, tossing her head, "but this is going to be the most splendid ball ever held, and," she glanced at the clock, a note of gleeful triumph creeping into her voice, "it's past midnight, so I'm actually coming of age in one day."

"Congratulations," Phineas said solemnly. "Truly, this is a milestone few have reached before you."

"Oh, do be quiet," said Elladora, but her eyes were still sparkling. "I don't know if getting into Cambridge has been good for you. You're becoming more insufferable than ever."

Phineas snorted. "Lucky for you that I'll be out of the house come September, then."

"It'll be so quiet here," Iola said thoughtfully. "I don't think this house has ever been empty before."

"You shouldn't complain," said Elladora. "Phineas will have finished his degree by the time you graduate. But I'll be all alone in the house for a whole year!"

"You'll be just fine," said Phineas. "I wager you'll be spending more time at Malfoy Manor than here, anyway."

Elladora turned the colour of a rose and turned back to her embroidery. "Well, you know how fond I am of Livia," she said, but the sarcasm fell rather flat when uttered with such a moonstruck smile.

"Yes, well," Iola muttered, rolling her eyes, "who wouldn't be?"

Phineas threw her a sharp glance. It was hard to forget the scene she had made with the Malfoys the previous summer, even though since then she had been on her best behaviour. He wondered whether or not to rebuke her, and settled for saying mildly, "Livia's a lovely girl."

"Men!" said Elladora, snipping off a loose thread and clacking her scissors for emphasis. "You're all the same. Just because Livia's pretty doesn't mean – well, anything."

"Who said she was pretty, anyway?" Phineas said.

"You did," said Iola, "just not out loud." She was smirking. Phineas picked up the spool of thread Elladora had thrown at him, and tossed it at her. She ducked, giggling, and fell off her chair.

"You should behave in a more ladylike fashion, Iola," said Elladora, in her imitation of Phineas' voice. "How are we ever supposed to find you a husband otherwise?"

Iola's eyes widened. "Are you looking for one?" she asked, directing a spooked look at Phineas.

"Not yet," Phineas reassured her. "Even Elladora's still not of an age to be married. But since she seems quite... settled, it won't do any harm to keep an eye out, would it?"

"Do you have anyone in mind?" Iola asked, still looking unnerved.

Phineas shrugged. "Are there any boys from decent families in your year? There's a Crabbe, isn't there?"

"Marcus? He's such an idiot," Iola said dismissively, climbing back onto her chair. "Still can't Transfigure a match into a needle."

"He's Sissy's brother," Elladora said.

"Sissy's not exactly the brightest wand in the shop herself," Phineas said, and Elladora acknowledged the point with a grin. "How about the Abbott boy? Is he in your year?"

"He's a Hufflepuff," said Elladora. "Might as well marry a sheep. What about Triton Flint, Iola? You were dancing with him on New Year's Eve."

Iola went pink. "Triton's just a friend," she said.

"Good," Phineas said bluntly. "Their bloodline's pure enough, but the family's fallen on hard times. The father's a gambler, I think."

"Well, if you have to lose money, it's a genteel enough way to do it," said Elladora. "You could probably advise him on how to win it back, anyway."

"Yes," said Phineas, "but why would I want to do that? Once a gambler, always a gambler. Besides, I have bigger plans than being a financial adviser."

"And that's our cue to get to bed," Elladora said, making a show of checking her watch. "Come on, Iola, before he starts on another speech about the deeper meaning of Arithmancy."

"I can't help it if you're a philistine," Phineas said drily.

"Well, you're a bore," Elladora said, turning to beam at him from the doorway, "but we put up with you anyway, don't we?"

Phineas laughed. "And you wouldn't have it any other way."

-B-

The ball, as Elladora had predicted, was a success. The fountain of elf-made wine was even more popular than one might expect in a party attended chiefly by witches and wizards between the ages of fifteen and nineteen; the hand-picked musicians were perfect for dancing; the sumptuous food was delicate and yet wonderfully filling. Elladora spent some time watching over the festivities with the proud, proprietary eye of a hostess who knew she had quite outdone herself, but she spent much more time dancing, or chatting, or enjoying her first legal drinks.

She was well aware that she was the centre of attention. Her dress robes were of wine-red silk, so fine that they could be threaded through a ring, and she had paired them with a set of antique rubies which glimmered at her ears and throat. She did not take a single step that evening without feeling either the envious gazes of the other girls, or the admiring ones of the many eligible young wizards.

But somehow none of that was important when Julius Malfoy, his hand still firmly on her waist after an exuberant turn around the dancefloor, led her purposefully out of the ballroom. Elladora's face was already flushed from dancing, but she was sure it burned an even darker red as they slipped into Phineas' library. The room had been deliberately closed off to the revellers; even Elladora and Iola were not often encouraged to enter their brother's lair, and she was sure Phineas would have cancelled the ball and withdrawn from elite society altogether before he allowed his precious books to be pawed over by outsiders. But Elladora and Julius were not here for the books.

The library was dimly lit, and Julius' grey eyes were hard to read, but the smile curving his finely shaped mouth was impossible to miss. "Well, congratulations," he murmured. "You're a legal adult now."

"Thank you," Elladora said, leaning her head against his chest. His grip around her waist tightened. "I've still another year at school, though," she added.

"Only one more year," said Julius. "And then once you're out of school – well, I fancy you won't be living here much longer, will you?" He waved a careless hand at the dark bookshelves.

Elladora's heart was dancing within her, but she kept her tone demure. "Well, I suppose that depends, doesn't it?" she said. She lifted her eyes to his slowly, looking up at him through long, lowered lashes, trying not to let the hint of a flirtatious smile peek out. "On whether or not I've found a suitable husband, I mean."

"I don't think that will be a problem," Julius said, bending his face down to hers.

Before their lips could meet, she tilted her head just slightly away. "No?" she asked. "Are you sure?"

Julius lifted her left hand, tracing with one cool finger the base of her own ring finger. "I think I am, yes," he said. "Depending on the answer you give me next summer, of course."

Next summer. Practically the same month she would graduate from Hogwarts. No longer bothering to hide a smile, Elladora breathed, echoing him, "I don't think that will be a problem," and leaned up to press her mouth against his.

-B-

The morning after the ball, Iola put on one of her Muggle dresses, stuffed some pillows under her covers in a vaguely humanoid shape, and went downstairs to the square.

Bob was standing in the patch of grass at the centre of the square, throwing a ball for Snowy. He was laughing as he bent down to scratch the little dog's ears, and when he straightened up and caught sight of Iola his beam widened even further. "You came," he said.

"Of course I did," Iola said, instinctively responding to his smile with one of her own.

"How was the party?"

Iola had rehearsed her answer to this, mindful of the fact that Muggle houses were only as big on the inside as they were on the outside. "Lovely and quiet," she said. "We had a sit-down dinner, and my sister invited some of her friends from school over."

"Oh, does your sister go to your school as well? I don't think you mentioned its name?"

"I didn't," Iola said. "Yes, she's two years ahead of me, so she'll finish next summer. Then she'll just be looking to get married, I suppose."

Bob made a face. "It's so strange to think about, isn't it? My sister's looking too."

"What?" Iola blinked at him. "Not little Emily?"

"Oh! No, my sister Vicky. She's seventeen and she only ever talks about all the eligible young men she thinks looked at her for more than ten seconds last month. If that's what all the ladies will be like, I don't think I'll bother looking for a wife at all." He flashed Iola a conspiratorial grin that made her cheeks grow unaccountably warm.

"I don't think all ladies are like that," she found herself saying, quite without meaning to. Then she moved back into more sensible grounds. "Dora's practically engaged already, though. So it should all go quite calmly for her."

"Well, I hope Vicky settles down with someone too, or I'll be sent quite mad," Bob said decisively.

Iola laughed drily. "That depends, believe me," she said. "She might find someone who's absolutely insufferable, and then he'll be invited over for dinner and you'll have to listen to him drone on all the time."

"It sounds like you're speaking from experience," Bob sad, quirking an eyebrow at her.

"Yes, well," Iola said. She dared to roll her eyes. "Mr Malfoy is a very fine young wiz— young man, so I've been told." Had he noticed the slip? Merlin this was illegal.

Luckily he was still grinning contentedly. "Well, nobody ever likes who their sister chooses, do they? Or is that just a brother's job? Most of the men making eyes at Vicky couldn't dredge up the brains to mount a horse between them, I swear! But how does your brother like your sister's young man, then?"

Iola blinked at this onslaught of questions, most of them apparently rhetorical. "Not at all," she said. "He went to school with Malfoy and they had a bit of a rivalry, from what I've heard."

"Oh, the mystery school again," said Bob, now looking worryingly curious. "Did everyone you know attend?"

"Well," Iola fumbled, "it produces strong social bonds, you know. Anyway, I'll be going back the day after tomorrow, so I probably won't see you again until the summer."

"Have a good term, in that case!" Bob said. He sounded cheerful enough, but the questions were enough to fluster Iola. As she passed behind the protective enchantments that hid her home from prying Muggle eyes, having hurriedly taken her leave of him, she passed a shaking hand over her eyes. What was she thinking? Why was she risking so much for these foolish little conversations?

But she already knew the answer to that. It was good to have a friend.