tw: mentions of death

"I'M BACK," Malka yelled into the house as she swung the door shut. It was a little warmer today, and Malka only needed a waist-length coat and mittens.

She walked past the Wizarding areas by the Lake, seamlessly going into the Muggle side of town. Children ran past her legs, and the air smelled like food, with an array of dishes she could name if she tried, but with coffee being the strongest smell. Malka always had some Muggle money on hand, and she quickly bought and drank an espresso as she walked by the downtown areas. Moving into the food markets were quite nice, as she bought a few nice tomatoes and grapes, which were quite good even if they were not in season. 

And now she had returned, setting the produce down where she knew Bitsy would find it. And Bitsy did, popping in front of her.

"Miss Malka Mei is kind to procure more food," Bitsy said, nodding her head. "A letter has arrived for Mistress, also,"

"You're welcome. Um- where is it?" Malka said, her heart skipping a beat. Yes it could be from Cass, but Bitsy or Itsy never announced those. 

"Your desk, Miss. Bitsy is left ink for your response," Bitsy finished, as Malka strolled upstairs on their marble spiral staircase.

Out of the five bedrooms, Malka used one, the master bedroom remained her late mother's, one guest room was furnished and ready for Cassana next week, and another one remained bare. The last room, which was also the smallest, was Itsy and Bitsy's. It had taken Malka quite some convincing to make them move there and out of their old closet, even more than when she insisted that they all eat together.

Malka arrived in her room first, and decided to pick up the new Prophet before reading her letter. And its headlines were quite grim.

"IRISH MUGGLE FAMILY OF FIVE MURDERED IN LONDON; WIZARDING INVOLVEMENT SUSPECTED" read the news, and Malka felt sick to her stomach. 

The rest of the article stated the facts; how it was a single father with four daughters, and how they'd all been hit with the Killing Curse, a curse they'd recently started studying in school. Malka read further along; the murders had taken place in Islington. Islington...there was something familiar about that place. Something she remembered. Regulus lived there. And her heart dropped at the possibilities. She knew what kind of family the Blacks were, even if Sirius was a blood traitor and Regulus was...interesting. Could they have been involved?

Worried, Malka popped open the seal on her new envelope. It was signed 'R.A.B' and Malka smiled at the sight of his near-perfect penmanship.

Miss Arslan,

I promised to write, didn't I? How have the first few days of Yule been for you? The weather must be more bearable in Italy; London remains cold and wet.

This is a first letter in what will hopefully become a series; so I do not have much to say besides questions. What is there to do in Como during wintertime? Do you have any Yuletide traditions? Are you just as frustrated at Flitwick's essay as I am, Malka?

Respectfully,

R. A. B.

10th of December, 1977

So he had written this before the attack happened. And he seemed alright enough. Smiling slightly at the parchment, as she sat in her cushioned armchair to write a response. Sure, it was a rather shift in character when comparing his demeanor at the party against their previous interactions; but a lot had happened between. And Malka believed in the good in people.

Mister Black,

I'll thank you for taking the time to write me. The first few days of Yule have been relaxing, it's quite nice living without the threat of homework. 

If the weather in London is cold and rainy, Italy is not much better. It's cold and windy here; some of my house elf's tomato plants are under threat. Not of wilting; but of being uprooted.

To answer your question; there is so much to do here. We have, in my opinion, the best espresso in the country. Coffee here is not like English coffee; we drink it black and it is meant to be a quick pick-me-up before work, not something you spend a conversation languishing upon. There are a few occaisons where Lake Como freezes over and we can skate, but this year is not the year for that. Some of the architecture is the best here, I think you would quite enjoy the cathedrals. Many of them are at least a thousand years old.

As for traditions, I must admit I have few. The elves will burn the logs, make wreaths and hang mistletoe, but otherwise we have no decorations. How is Yule in your family, Regulus?

I read today's Prophet, it seems there was a Muggle massacre in Islington. Are you and your family alright? I have other questions, too, but that is the immediate one. Please address this in your response. I hold the loss of human life to great value.

Best wishes,

Malka M. Arslan

-

Cass squalled as she enveloped Malka into a crushing hug. "Merlin, I've missed you! I can't stand being in that house anymore, I need to be in Italy now,"

Malka snorted. "Missed you too, Cass. Wanna get some gelato?"

"Yes please," Cass said in a self-explanatory tone, waving at Itsy and Bitsy before yanking Malka's hand along. 

Cass had made several trips to Malka's villa over the past few years, including a stay that lasted an entire month right after Malka's mother died in June the summer of her second year. So Cass was more than familiar with the Muggle town, and soon enough, the two girls were shivering under the icy clouds, but laughing as they ate their even colder gelato. Malka had gotten her usual stracciatella, and Cass had gotten a lemon and milk combination.

"How's the situation with Clorfan going?" Malka said as the girls sat indoors in the muggle shop.

Cass rolled her eyes. "He won't stop bothering me. He's written me every day over break, I can't stand it,"

"And have you opened his letters?" Malka said.

"No. Alecto said to ignore the words of someone that pathetic, so I threw them away," Cass mumbled dejectedly.

"Well, I'm ninety-nine percent sure Clorfan wouldn't send you bombs in parchment, so I think you should open them. You don't even have to respond, you just need to see what he has to say before judging,"

"Alright, maybe I will, then," Cass said, and by her tone Malka could tell she didn't mean it.

"Come on, let's go home," Malka said, and the two girls walked back to the villa.

"Oh, how I love it here," Cass sighed wistfully. "So much better than London with all the smog,"

"I'll agree with that," Malka hummed, hands in her pockets, where she wore a coat over Muggle overalls. An old woman selling roasted chestnuts slouched outside, handing some samples to young Sicilian children. 

"Don't you ever feel scared? That you're living so close to the Muggle village?"

"No," with a shrug. "We have wards, and so do the other Magical villas. If Muggles come close, they'll be turned away either by the spells or by the wired fences stating the area's from the government,"

"Interesting. Well, you've got to let me come over after Hogwarts. I'd rather die old and grey here than anywhere else," Cass said as the bronze doors opened and the rush of heat from Warming Charms casted over them.

"Very well," Malka laughed. "Let's go to the drawing room, Bitsy has lunch for us there,"

The two girls made their way under the chandeliers and into the drawing room. 

"Hi, ma'am," Cass gave a cheerful wave to Melite Rowle's portrait. It didn't move.

"Cass," Malka raised a brow. "I told you my mother never charmed it?"

"Oh, right," she flushed. 

They curled up together by the fire, played a few rounds of Gobstones, ate their lunch (some salad with sausage), worked on their Charms essay, and eventually gardened for a bit. Cass would be here for the week and return back, exactly three days before Christmas. She'd wanted to buy some presents for her family in Italy, so the day after, the two girls strolled around Como, and Malka accompanied Cass as she cooed over trinkets. Malka had already ordered her present for Cass- a Pride of Portree jersey with Fortescue written on the back, so she mostly watched. But a little something caught her eye, from a worn but polished Muggle stand with a grizzled old man that smelled like smoke. So Malka bought it with a hidden smile, and avoided the curious looks from her friend.