tw: light mentions of blood prejudice

IT REALLY WASN'T THAT BAD. After a lengthy, tear-filled apology by Cass that Malka accepted, all she really got were a couple distasteful looks from Slytherins in the halls before the drama subsided. Even if she couldn't read minds, she could tell she had faded once more into their peripheries, another pesky Gryffindor.

It was now a charming Friday, after classes and Hogsmeade. Malka had indeed gone to Gladrags Wizardwear, partially out of guilt, but their new collection wasn't in fact catered to Slughorn's dinner party. It was more tailored towards what a grandmother would wear to bed, and even Cass agreed. So it was decided that Malka would wear one of Cass's dresses, a rather fiery maroon dress with bell sleeves. Cass had jumped in delight when Malka chose that dress, and Malka had smiled sheepishly, knowing they both had things to make up to each other.

Cass laid it out on Malka's bed for her, ready for tomorrow's dinner.

"Perfect," she said. "Um, I have to go now. Cindy and Alecto said they were going to sneak back into Hogsmeade and get some Chocolate liqueur, so..."

"Oh, of course," Malka said, nodding her head as Cass made another awkward little gesture before bobbing her head and walking out of their room.

As Gryffindors, Malka and Cass shared their own room. They'd applied for it in their fifth year, since the other two Gryffindor girls of the year, Mary Macdonald and Margaux Bishop, were also exclusively best friends and politely declined rooming with Malka and Cass.

Thus, two girls shared one room, which they were happy with, even if it was smaller and had just the one window. Their furniture matched, but you couldn't even tell that they were once the same. For all of Cass's trunks walls, her dresser and closet, everything was colored in purple. Whether it was posters of her favorite Quidditch team, Pride of Portree, or fabric in different shades of lavender, Cassana Fortescue loved purple. There wasn't a spot on her walls that wasn't covered, even her photoframes were smoky pale violet.

Meanwhile, Malka's side of the room was virtually empty by comparison. She was never much for decorating, and all of her furniture remained unTransfigured and her walls bare. She had a small spot that had pictures, and little decorations on her desk and dresser, but that was about it.

Cass walked back into their room. "Oh, Mal, I just forgot about something,"

"What is it?" Malka said, sitting up from her previous position sprawled over her blanket.

"Erm- it's kind of a favor...you don't have to,"

"No, I don't have anything to do the rest of the night, I already finished Potions, it was quite light,"

"Well, I asked the house elves to bake a cake, and I was just wondering if you could deliver it to the Hospital Wing for...Regulus Black? I just felt kind of guilty about the whole Bludger thing...I was gonna do it meself, but I just realized I have to leave..."

"Oh. Sure, I can do it," Malka said with a hesitant smile, noticing the white box on Cass's nightstand.

"Thanks, love. I'll buy you a butterbeer next week," Cass said in open relief, her cheeks flushing as they smiled.

"Alright," Malka chuckled, as the two girls walked out together before parting on the staircases.

The Hospital Wing wasn't far from Gryffindor Tower, and most of the other students were at dinner. Cass and Malka had gorged on confections at Hogsmeade, so much so that neither was currently hungry. Malka clutched the cake box as she walked, wooden heels clacking on the granite floors. It was a simple white box, covered so she couldn't see the actual cake. Malka hoped Cass didn't write anything embarrassing on it. Malka was wearing her usual red cardigan, with her hair in braids and a tweed skirt.

The Hospital Wing doors were always open, and Cass was greeted with the sight of rows upon rows of white beds with curtains for privacy. Though only two beds had the curtains actually drawn shut. She could see Madam Pomfrey tending to a small girl on one of the closer beds, so Malka took a seat and waited until she was done.

"Oh, hello, dear. Is there anything you need?"

It occured to Malka that in all five years, she had never actually been to the Hospital Wing before, ever.

"Yes, um- I brought this for Mister Black? Is he taking visitors?"

"Oh, of course. In fact, I completely fixed him up earlier, it's only school policy that he needs to stay for three hours," Pomfrey smiled warmly, smoothing her skirt down. "He's very anxious to be released,"

Pomfrey pointed at the singular bed with its curtains drawn. "Over there, dear,"

"Thanks," Malka smiled slightly, walking over.

She gently peered with one eye through a gap in the curtains, seeing a figure sitting straight up.

"Hello," Malka said awkwardly, stepping into his space.

"Good afternoon, Miss Arslan," Regulus Black said rather stiffly, in his usual low voice. He seemed to be avoiding eye contact far more today, as he balanced a book in his lap. He closed its black cover as she drew closer. "Is this your apology?"

Control, Malka thought, pursing her lips in a frown as she allowed his words to wash over her. "I brought you this. It's from Cassana Fortescue,"

Regulus furrowed his eyebrows. "Why would Fortescue bring me a cake?"

"Er- because she felt guilty about hitting you?" Malka said quizzically, before realizing. "Oh, you don't know,"

"Yes, I was under the impression that you were the one who swung the Bat, Miss Arslan,"

"Um..." Malka didn't know what to do. She'd dug a hole for herself, and now she could either lie to keep Cass's image up, or tell the truth. But it looked like Regulus Black had already figured her out.

"Ah, you took the blame for her," He said, with a little dip in his head. "How...noble,"

Malka felt a small spark of indignity rise in her. "Cassana is my friend, and it would be a bad look if people found out she hurt a member of the Slytherin Quidditch team, when two of her friends are Slytherins. It was the right thing for me to do,"

"Indeed," Black said, eyes flicking away from her as he pondered her words.

"Anyways. She asked me to give this to you," Malka said, placing it onto Regulus's lap, and feeling his legs stiffen as the weight was added on.

"And how do I know this isn't going to explode in my face when I touch it?"

"Because not all Gryffindors are assholes, you wanker,"

Regulus glared for a moment, then opened the cake box, and the two of them peered inside. "Oh, Merlin..."

Cass hadn't just requested a normal cake, it was a cake in the shape of a Bludger, with a Bludger's iron color. What was worse was that there were a few dots of red frosting scattered over it, clearly representing bloodstains. And in burgundy frosting were the words 'SORRY FOR MAIMING YOU'.

Malka felt a laugh come up, but she quickly squashed it so it came out as an awkward grunt. "Um- I'm sorry, I'm sure she didn't mean-"

But Regulus Black started laughing. Malka's jaw dropped as his skinny form rolled with laughter, filling every crevice of his body with humor. A single curl flopped onto his forehead as he almost closed his eyes. It was barely for a moment, and he didn't even smile fully when he laughed, but it was enough. His laugh came out a bit wheezy, like he hadn't used it in a while, but it was beautiful to Malka. Like watching ripples on an unbroken pond when you start skipping rocks.

"Suppose the bludger did maim you a bit," she said before she could stop herself.

"This, is the worst cake I've ever seen," Regulus chuckled, sniffing with effect as he grinned far wider than Malka thought was possible.

"I thought something like this would happen," Malka said, smiling sheepishly. Regulus's smile was quite infectious, it was like an honor bestowed upon someone if he smiled at them.

"Yes," Regulus continued. "Shame Miss Fortescue hangs around Miss Talkalot and Carrow; they dim her spirit,"

Malka blinked, not quite knowing what to say to that. "Er- I suppose, though it's not my place to judge,"

"But you do, don't you?" Regulus said, suddenly with a bit more volume as he fixed her with ice-blue eyes.

Malka got the feeling like she was being scanned, and instinctively slammed her mental shields down extremely hard, like slamming a door shut. But it didn't work, and Malka got the feeling like she was stuck in mud, trying to pull herself out under someone else's spell.

"I don't see how my friend's friendships are concern enough for a violation of the mind," she said, affection for him vanishing and coldness replacing it.

"You're an Occlumens," he mused, a dangerous glint in his eyes, and Malka remembered this was not just anyone she was speaking so casually to, but a Black.

"What of it?" she said a bit waspishly. 

"Not a very good one,"

She had read quite a lot about protecting and enhancing the mind, and her mother had given her quite a few lessons about it before her accident. Turns out some people were simply born with the talent. But while some were natural Occlumens, Malka Arslan and Melite Rowle were natural Legilimens. Her mother, with her extensive training, could even make up visions and implant them in other peoples' heads, and she taught Malka how to do it (although she emphasized that it was extremely unethical and only to be used as a last resort). There were two branches of Legilimency, with the first being the ability to read thoughts and the second being to implant them. The second came as an extension with the first, since you needed to be in someone's head first to put images in there. Melite had also taught Malka the basics of Occulmency, saying how with the rising Wizarding War, Malka would also need to fortify her own mind. Legilimency always came easier than Occlumency, and she was horrible at the latter.

Regulus didn't answer her question at first. "What are you?"

"A half-blood," Malka said, leaning back and slowly letting the fear creep up her. "What of it?"

"Nothing," Regulus shrugged. Malka glared. If she tried really hard, perhaps if Black was intoxicated or injured, she could bypass his mental fortitudes and see into whatever scheme he was planning. But the bastard was really good at Occlumency, she could tell.

Instead, she looked to his side, frustrated, when she caught sight of a book. It was a simple, thin black parchment cover, but what caught Malka's eyes were the giant embossed silver letters in the title, words that spelt out: The Rise of the Dirty-Blooded Empires. 

Regulus saw her spine stiffen, and he slowly followed her gaze onto his book before he averted his eyes away. "It was from my father," he mumbled.

"-Do you truly believe that?" Malka blurted out, her face turned red out of anger. "Do you actually think purebloods are better than anyone else?"

Regulus turned his head away. "It has been that way for thousands of years. It doesn't matter what we believe, society is set in those ways, and there is no point in resisting," he recited like a mantra.

Malka scoffed, and she stood up in defiance. "I came to in peace, but I've recieved nothing but your disrespect. Tell me, is this any way you treat a lady? From the moment we talked on the waterfront you've been an absolute arse, Black. You've been a right bastard, and it's absolutely insane no one's ever said that to your face before-"

Malka took a shuddering breath and tried to rein herself in, but it kept spilling out.

"-I'm sorry you got hurt, Mister Black, but that's the only nice thing you're ever going to hear from me."

Now that, was Malka Arslan when she got on her nerves. That was also the longest sentence she'd spoken in anger since last week when she'd ranted to Cass about the Marauders stealing the Common Room furniture. And with that, she stormed out of the Hospital Wing, officially done with Regulus Black, once and for all.