tw: mentions of death, child abandoment/abuse

"IT'S GETTING LATE," Regulus muttered. 

They were still on Slughorn's balcony, shivering and all. The party had finished, and they'd stayed silent as they heard the patter of feet and the chatter of voices pass by as students went back to their respective dorms. Now it was completely silent.

"I'll walk you back to Gryffindor Tower," he said with a tone of finality as Prefect, as he swung his legs back onto the balcony. He held out his hand to her, and Malka took it, as custom, even though some people (namely a few opinionated Gryffindors) might have thought manners were getting outdated.

Melite Rowle had always drilled proper manners into Malka, so the latter used Regulus's hand to place her weight on as she swung her legs onto the balcony, and took his offered arm. Even though she didn't risk resting her other hand on his forearm, she could tell just by looking that his hands were cold; pale, and with veins scattered around it he could've been an inch away from falling asleep forever.

But there were hints of content on his face. He had fuller lips than his brother, though they were usually pinched thin. Tonight he was relaxed, and his eyes were no longer narrowed, his jaw not as clenched as before. And there was something peaceful in his gaze as he looked upon her after their moonlit conversation.

So she took a leap of faith and decided to give him some of the information he'd wanted. "It was my mother. She was the Legilimens,"

"...Oh," Regulus said after a little while, his words reverberating through his body. "Erm- my condolences,"

"Thank you," Malka murmured, and it was like someone rubbed a towel on the scabby wound of loss. "She died in a fire second year,"

"That's not pretty," Regulus agreed. Their feet pattered against the stone floor as they slowly climbed up and up the stairs "Who do you live with now?"

"I have two house elves that take care of me, from before her passing," Malka explained, her mood brightening at the thought. 

Regulus made a strange face. "Two house elves?" he said, and the familiar sour look took over his face again, as if he regretted saying it but it had slipped out. "Er- anyways. What are your elves' names?"

"Itsy and Bitsy. They've been with my family for centuries, and they helped raise me. You have elves, right?"

"Yes. Kreacher and Pepper," Regulus said. Surprisingly, his sour look vanished into thin air. "Kreacher was born about thirty years ago, and Pepper about seventy,"

"Oh. I thought your family would have more. And why are they so young?"

"I- well," Regulus said, suddenly going a bit pink. "There are only two in our city home; more keep in the French Manor or the Austrian one. And there's a tradition in my family, I think it quite morbid, but it is...to remove the elves that become too old to carry tea trays,"

"What?!" Malka stopped in her tracks. "I- that's despicable! Elves don't even need to carry tea trays, they can leviosa them!"

"I know, I know," Regulus sounded tired, and as Malka looked over, she thought he could pass for someone much older than him. There was a slight slouch to his posture, and if his eyes were planets, they would have rings. "I do not enjoy it either,"

And for the first time she'd seen him standing in the waters, Malka felt pity for the boy, only the same age as she, with a terrible family and a legacy he needed to cherish, since his brother definitely wasn't going to do it. 

"I'm sorry," Malka offered politely, her eyes round and sad. 

"It's nothing" Regulus shifted uncomfortably, and Malka decided to take a leap of faith by resting her other free hand on top of his forearm. She could feel him stiffen at her touch, but he didn't protest it.

"I hear news of my father every now and then. He is aware that I'm alive and have grown up, but he has started a family of his own, with an Eastern witch he approves of," she scoffed at the end.

"Did he not approve of your mother?" Regulus furrowed his brows.

"He did for a time. Then I was born...out of wedlock," 

"Ah," He responded awkwardly. Malka could tell he was trying not to be condescending, even though it ran against everything he'd been told to act as.

Malka rolled her eyes lightly. "My mother never shyed away from speaking about my father, said I should know all about him to form my own opinions on him. My mother ran away from her betrothal to him. But two years later, he'd ran off from her, now preaching all about wives and fertility and heirs. That part was ironic,"

"Heirs," Regulus scoffed. "Fertility. Rather foolish concepts these days,"

And Malka could see that he believed it. "And here I thought you kept to the old ways. Why would you not want heirs, people to carry on your name and all that?"

"No child, deserves the burden of heirdom," he whispered the words that should not have been said aloud, especially not in front of a girl like her. And Malka sensed they were true.

Malka hummed softly, and rubbed his arm with her free hand's thumb just for one stroke.

The lights grew dimmer and dimmer as they ascended Gryffindor Tower. She thought about it; it was quite the walk to make from the dungeons to the Tower, and back again to the dungeons. Maybe this was his way of apologizing. She could accept that.

"Tell me of your progress with the kelpie, Mister Black," she said lightly, trying to distract him.

A faint glow appeared to spark in his eyes once more as he talked about the creature. "The progress you interrupted?"

Malka almost stopped, before shooting him a nasty look and realizing he was joking. "Are you sure that was even progress?"

Regulus tilted his head back as a low, garbled half-laugh escaped his lips. "Well, I have been down to the Lake twice since our...incident. It is a junior kelpie—those are easier to tame. I have been luring it out with meat and, er- wearing the bridle myself, so it gets accustomed to seeing it on a person it trusts,"

"Oh," Malka said, and her eyes began crinkling as she held a hand to her face.

"Do not laugh,"

"I'm not laughing," Malka said, laughing. 

Regulus rolled his eyes. It was three more flights of stairs before they approached a grand, oval-shaped room with a red dome ceiling, and the Fat Lady looking like she was about to leap from the painted garden. 

She turned back to Regulus, a safe distance away where the Fat Lady could not eavesdrop.

"It's quite the walk from here back to the dungeons. Thank you," Malka said, with a warm smile.

"Of course. Our conversation...it was enlightening," he said, looking down at his shoes and back up. She let go of his arm, feeling a bit of the chill hit her palms at the loss of contact

"I thought so. We found some common ground, crazy enough," Malka said hesitantly.

"Indeed," Regulus's lips turned up crookedly, and something warm lit up in Malka's heart. "We leave for the Holidays soon. Will I see you again?"

Malka could feel the heat, and it wasn't coming from the torches next to her. "Probably not, Mister Black. Any traveling?"

"No," Regulus shook his head with a slightly dimmer smile. "Just Italy for you?"

"Indeed,"

"Spero che vada bene per te," he said with the softest face she'd ever seen on him, and she beamed in response. 

"I didn't know you spoke Italian," she said curiously.

"I dabble, though I am most proficient in French,"

"Oh, I'm afraid I do not know any," Malka returned warmly. 

"-May I write you? Over Yule? I daresay you could pick up some French over correspondence," he said, with a twinkle to his blue eyes, as if he'd blurted something out without thinking about it.

"You may," Malka said, tucking a piece of hair behind her ears. "Have a good holiday, Regulus. Buonanotte,"

"Buonanotte, Malka," he said, nodding his head respectfully as Malka whispered the password, stepping back into the Common Room.

-

"So. How was Sluggie's party?" Cass said as Malka entered, her dress all frazzled from sitting in the wind for over an hour.

"It was wonderful," Malka said with a smile.

"Good. You've had something exciting happen. All I've done tonight is McGonagall's essay, which isn't even due until the day we leave for Yule! Alecto and Lucinda keep bugging me about a Hogsmeade trip overnight the two days before, so I can't write it then," Cass bemoaned, lying on top of her fluffy comforter.

"Well, you have a few days now," Malka offered some reassurance. Her mind buzzed, a bubbly feeling in her chest at the thought of her interactions with Mister Black. 

"I guess so. Those two make me so angry sometimes," Cass said, finishing her last words in a whisper.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Malka said carefully, making strong eye contact

"No, it's fine. I have to finish this paragraph and then pack. Thanks, though, love,"

"'S alright," Malka shrugged as she pulled her clothbound trunk out of her closet's back section. "I have to pack too,"

And the girls ended up talking about brighter topics as they shoved socks and sweaters into their trunks and Cass spilled ink over her almost-finished essay, spending their last night together before the holidays.

-

this chapter was inspired by 'king of my heart' by Frenchroast99!

also, pls don't hate on cass. shes just a girl.