tw: mentions of torture and ptsd

SOMETHING HAD CHANGED. Whether it was the way he looked at her or the way she looked at him or something else, Malka Mei Arslan and Regulus Black had moved on from two corresponding friends to something...other. Something Malka hadn't ever experienced before, but she knew she could trust it, with how her heart fluttered every time she saw him, and how a bit of life seemed to light in Reg's eyes when she smiled in front of him. Even if it was accompanied by a passive-aggressive remark.

But right now wasn't about that. Right now was all about Malka and Cass as the two girls ran around Hogsmeade, with a plan that would take all the way from nine a.m. to sunset.

They went to the post office first, since mail to Italy would get there faster with an experienced post owl compared to Tigress (though Malka would never admit it out loud). Cass needed to go to Dervish and Banges to get her cauldron repaired after she'd melted it with the Flame-Freezing potion (she'd added too much Firecracker Horn to it). Now they were at the Three Broomsticks, and Cass, and Malka had just filled her in on everything.

"Oh, no..." Cass's eyes rounded as Malka told her. "Well, I feel sorry for poor Mister Black, but the rumors about his brother are going to spread by the end of the week, he'll have to deal with the fallout,"

And true enough, they overheard some Hufflepuff seventh years only hours later talking about Sirius Black's flight the next shelf over by the Love Potions. The girls ran around Hogsmeade for another few hours, sneaking some butterbeer (and in Cass's case, firewhiskey) back to their rooms.

"We have the Fire Potions exam tomorrow, right?" Cass asked as they set their things around their stone beds. 

Malka tried messily to arrange the glass bottles of butterbeer around her desk. She might not be dirty, but she did have a habit of clutter. Cass kept all her furniture surfaces empty, but bottles, books, shelves, and other miscellaneous items dotted Malka's desk and the top of her dresser. Though in terms of hygiene, Malka was better than Cass.

"And?" Malka raised an eyebrow. They had been studying five different advanced fire-related potions, and were both taking an exam and giving a presentation about a potion of choice tomorrow. Malka had already prepped quite a bit for it, and they had plans to meet with Regulus in the classroom tonight to finish their brew of the Fire-Breathing Potion.

"Oh, Merlin, I have Quidditch tonight," Cass said, frozen as she realized it.

"Oh. Is it required?" Malka said concernedly. They really were planning on finishing the Potion tonight.

"Yeah..." Cass said anxiously, chewing on her bottom lip. "We have a game tomorrow, remember?"

"Oh, right," Malka frowned. Ravenclaw vs Gryffindor had their quarterfinals tomorrow. "Okay, well, you already have our notes, right? Reg and I can just finish the Potion and we'll present it all together tomorrow,"

"Okay," Cass sighed in relief. "Thanks, Mal. I owe you,"

-

That night, Malka made the walk to the dungeons an hour and a half before curfew at 10 p.m. Reg was already there when she opened the doors, and the pungent smell of Firecracker horn filled her nostrils.

"Mister Black," Malka said with an awkward sort of ease, sliding onto a stool next to him, watching the Fire-Breathing Potion bubble, a thick, viscious electric blue substance that seemed to cool the entire room with its fumes. There was no one else in the classroom.

"Miss Arslan," Reg said, looking up and nodding awkwardly. "Did you visit Hogsmeade?"

"I did," Malka said and returned the gesture. "I sent some mail home to the elves with the owls at the Post Office,"

Reg smirked. "So you finally realized how terrible your own little beast is at delivering letters?"

"Say that again," Malka almost swatted him with her annotated textbook. "Tigress is perfect,"

"If you say so," Reg shrugged one shoulder, though he gave her a sly look that warmed her from the inside out. "Why did you gift such a measly owl with that name?"

Malka shot him a dangerous look. "Because I saw her spirit. She can be quite fierce, you know. You just haven't been at the end of her claws before,"

"Right," Reg rolled his eyes, stirring the Potion counterclockwise exactly four times.

Malka looked down and she noticed how he'd already gathered the extra ingredients and tools they needed to complete the final step of the brewing process. "Anyways. There was another reason. My mother named me in a similar way,"

"Oh?"

"Indeed. My mother's name was Melite, so she wanted another 'M' name. Apparently, when I was born, I was so small that she was going to name me something after a flower. But a few hours later, when I opened my eyes, she said she saw a spirit inside of me, and decided to name me Malka, which means queen,"

"Interesting," Reg placed his chin in his palm as he rested an elbow on the stone table while Malka lit the cauldron base with more flames in order to get the brew to boil over. "Ah, yes. Melite Alexandra Rowle, had a...tryst, with a Muggle," 

Reg said it a little gentler, as if he was testing her waters. But Malka wasn't insecure about her mother, she owned her parents' story.

"It was a Muggleborn wizard, actually," Malka corrected, and watched as Reg recalled how Slughorn praised her father at his dinner before the Holidays.

"You do not have to indulge me if you wish, but how is it that your father does not support you, your mother has passed, but you live in the most luxurious villa out of all the villas that English pureblood families own?" Reg peered over the rim of the cauldron at her.

"Now, that, is another scandal you will have to discover in your own time, Mister Black," Malka sent him a sneaky look.

"Mister Black, now is it?" Reg said, suddenly leaning back and uncomfortably close to her. "And here I thought I was Regulus to you, Malka,"

Malka let out a small laugh. "I was merely teasing you. Shame we did not correspond enough over Yule for you to grasp my sense of humor,"

"Shame indeed," Reg said through his teeth, and Malka briefly wondered if she'd said the wrong thing, before he relaxed. "I never thanked you for that day,"

"What day?" she asked.

"The day in the broom closet,"

"Oh," Malka looked down embarrassedly, but the sound of Reg shifting his stool closer to her made her raise her head again. "It's alright, I was happy to give you some comfort,"

Pain glazed over his eyes. "But thank you,"

Malka smiled, and and hesitantly placed her hand over his on the marble table. He did not flinch as he did last time, but relaxed, and the expression on his mouth could've lit up any sky. "You're welcome,"

And for a moment, there was no war going on outside the walls of the castle; they were just two children who didn't know what they were doing, holding hands and doing their homework, little flames stirring in their hearts. But then a hiss startled them both, as the Fire-Breathing Potion bubbled over and burned a hole in Malka's textbook.

"Merlin," Malka swore as she cast a reducio upon the flames. They both looked into the cauldron, and instead of the bright blue, thick substance that was previously there, now remained a pale white, syrup-like concoction.

"I think we did it," Reg murmured as he gently tossed an oak leaf into the potion and they watched as it crystallized with alchemical ice. 

"Well," Malka said with a smile as she extinguished the flames fully and began to walk over to where the portioning vials were. "So, why the name Regulus?"

"Hmm?" Reg looked up from grinning at the potion. "Tradition. Though I was named after my great-uncle,"

"Regulus Black the first," Malka hummed knowingly as she recalled the name. "I read about him in third year, you know, for a Divination assignment,"

"Ah, yes, he was quite character," Reg said, a bit of a flush coming to his white face. 

"Who knows if he was just a claimant Seer?" Malka protested. "Anyways, I like Regulus. The name,"

"I never had any strong feelings about it," Reg thumbed the edge of Malka's textbook as she returned with three glass vials. "I wonder what prompted my grandfather to look upon a little baby and give him such a complicated name,"

"It means 'prince', does it not?" Malka asked as she sat on the table to ladle the potion into the vials. "Perhaps he saw your spirit,"

"I hardly believe it," Reg scoffed. "I can count the amount of times he's ever spoken to me on my two hands,"

"Alright," Malka shrugged. "Perhaps he's busy,"

"That's true," Reg pondered, before shaking his head. 

"If you are thanking me, then I must apologize as well for the broom closet," Malka murmured, fingers ghosting over the instructions to cut the Dilkweed into four inch pieces. "I have never been fully trained in Legilimency. Much of it is instinct, and I am afraid I am less familiar with its use in terms of etiquette,"

"You were polite enough," was his stiff reply, and that was that. Reg finished ladling the potion into the vials, vanishing the remains in a snap of his fingers. 

"Well done," Malka said, hopping off the desk to bring the cauldron back to its shelf. Their conversation had taken on a strangeness to it— they bantered like friends, yet there was a certain hesitation present anytime one of them said something that hit close, a certain shyness.

"I barely did anything for this brew," Reg shook his head.

"Well, that was because you wrote all the notes and went to Professor Kettleburn for all the animal ingredients," Malka said, her lips pulling to the sides of her face in a grin.

"That's true. The Peruvian Salamander feces were rather difficult for me to collect," Reg chuckled.

They put all their things away, and exited the classroom. Reg offered to walk her back, but Malka declined, saying they should stop by the Great Hall and part ways there, since Gryffindor Tower was on the opposite wing of the castle as the dungeons. 

"Thank Merlin I don't take Care of Magical Creatures," Malka rolled her eyes. "I'd be terrible. And bored,"

Regulus looked affronted. "Care of Magical Creatures is not boring, we work with different creatures every day, and Professor Kettleburn is a great teacher,"

Malka dryly raised a brow. 

"-He might be off his rocker a bit. But he's mellowed out ever since Dumbledore became Headmaster," Reg admitted, shuffling his feet.

Malka snorted. "As if Dumbledore isn't off his rocker, either,"

Reg looked at her, surprised. "And what do you have against Dumbledore?"

"Nothing much," Malka shrugged. "Just a little moment I hold a grudge about from first year. He sensed I was a Legilimens and decided to scan me for my potentness,"

"That's completely invasive," Reg said indignantly.

"I suppose," Malka sighed. "But he did it to all the first years; you as well. Perhaps he was just paranoid,"

"'suppose," Reg mumbled, looking very uncomfortable at that new piece of information. 

They had reached the Great Hall. There were four hallways that branched out from it, one lead to Gryffindor Tower up the stairs, and one led to the Slytherin dungeons down the stairs.

"I guess this is where we part," Malka shrugged her bag further up one shoulder.

"Yes," Reg sighed, a bit reluctantly. "Good luck at your career meeting tomorrow,"

"You as well. Good night, Regulus,"

"Sleep well, Malka," he replied, and they walked away.

-

this was a super long chapter; next chapter's gonna be a bit shorter. gn yall