Over the years Fallon had tried to impress her love of quidditch into Malou, she and Mari both, but Malou had never seen the appeal of it. Even those who played it seemed hardly appealing to her, although the girl chat between the others indicated that perhaps she was the only one to feel this way. Malou, though, preferred a man's intellect and disposition to his build and ability to play a sport she did not understand nor care to understand. Over the years the fangirling of the others had never truly helped her with this, nor even her father's own enjoyment of the sport. As Jesse explained her face gave away nothing of these thoughts, instead she wore the look she always did when intently listening to her patients. It was good to hear that he had fallen into a profession he enjoyed, despite it not being his first choice. It seemed to also be a good fit for him, in the little that she knew of him. "I am glad, it seems few are that lucky." She agreed, glancing at him with a soft smile before she looked into the window of a patient's door as they passed. "It seems to suit you." She added conversationally, although it was perhaps more candid then she might have said in the full light of daytime.

The mention of her parents as living brought back her own melancholy and had her avoiding Mr. Hatchitt's gaze and the sympathy and pity it would soon display. "They were not alive to see me become a healer." She admitted quietly into the dark corridor around them. The words seemed to settle into the sleeping ward around them. "They passed away the summer after I graduated from Hogwarts." She found herself explaining. "My mother always hoped I would make a fine marriage for myself and settle down, my father wanted the best for me." A good marriage in other words. Neither of them wanted a career for her, went unsaid between the pair as they continued their slow walk forward. Her godmother reminded her of the past often enough that Malou knew the torrent of feelings it brought up, knew the old objections and worries she had held. It was an old and well worn path, one she refuses to acknowledge she walked down as frequently as she did.