The Vanishing Cabinet...Black

eight. a nighttime walk

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 Ravenclaw 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it, as custom, even though some people (namely a few opinionated Gryffindors) might have thought manners were getting outdated.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 a few years ago in an accident. Reached too far into someone's mind...her own was destroyed in the process,"

"That's not pretty," Regulus agreed. "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. "I don't have any other family alive, and I have a horrible person for a father,"

Regulus snorted. "That makes two of us," he said, and right after 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's a tradition in my family, I think it quite morbid, but it is to kill 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. "I do not enjoy it either,"