Every Way A Person Can Be Saved

Sunday Studies

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has continued to read and comment on this story - I promise you that I haven't forgotten about it! I've been attempting to navigate my first weeks of school along with dance and theater rehearsals, which has not been an easy task. :( I'm sorry that I can't keep a more consistent posting schedule, but I'm working with what I've got. Here's a little something that I whipped up on a night that I didn't have much homework. I'm hoping that I can knock out a couple thousand words over the weekend, so we'll see how that goes. Thank you for the continued support on this story, and I hope that you enjoy!

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The Great Hall was quiet Sunday morning. Soft sunlight was shining through the tall windows, casting a glow across the Ravenclaw table. Alaris sat at the end of the table, by the large doors that opened into the empty corridor. Many students were either sleeping in or, like Alaris' friends, were enjoying their final taste of summer by the lakeside. Chelsea had been reluctant to leave Alaris alone for the day, but she'd been assured that Alaris would be just fine on her own. It gave Alaris an excuse to catch up on some studying. Though Alaris' arm had been mended, she had been told to keep it in a sling for the next couple days, and she was to report to the Hospital Wing every four hours for medication to ease the throbbing in her head, which was getting quite annoying.

In front of Alaris sat a goblet of chocolate milk, a half-eaten danish, and a worn copy of Hogwarts: A History with a sheet of parchment next to it. Professor Binns had assigned several reading questions that she was enjoying researching. She loved her friends and dormmates very much, but they could be a bit much at times. Her moments of solitude were blissful. She expected for them to be back in the late afternoon, so she was going to milk every second of her alone time. Her eyes quickly scanned over an illustration in the book, only glancing upwards once the bench across from her creaked.

In front of her, Regulus Black was inching closer to the table, tentatively resting his elbows on the tabletop. He wore a black knitted sweater with arms that were a tad too long, stretching over his palms. It made him seem child-like as he uncomfortably shifted in his seat.

"Hi," he began. Alaris pursed her lips and stared at him silently. "I'm sorry about your arm."

Alaris watched him squirm for a moment. "Its fine. The sling is just a precaution."

"Still," said Regulus. He waited for her to say something else, but she stayed quiet. He dropped his hands into his lap and leaned further into the table. "I'm really sorry. Like, really sorry. Not just for the arm."

Alaris drew in a breath. "Does this mean that you no longer think I'm some kind of half-breed? That I'm somehow worth less than you because of my parents?" She was now leaning over her book, glaring daggers at the boy across from her. This was the first real conversation that the two of them had since their first meeting on the Hogwarts Express. They'd interacted briefly, but every time they walked away from one another Alaris was either irked or suppressing laughter at some inappropriately timed, immature quip Regulus made. Either way, it didn't overshadow his first impression.

Regulus drew his mouth into a line. He probably should have expected that kind of reaction, but Alaris' raised voice was so out of character that he was taken aback by it. "I'm sorry."

"That wasn't a yes." Alaris crossed her arms over her chest.

"What do want me to say?" Regulus said, raising his voice to meet Alaris' new tone.

"I want you to spell it out – Alaris Hewett, I am sorry for suggesting that you were a dirty little mudblood before I even knew who you were!" she yelled, drawing eyes from across the hall. Regulus ducked his head, letting out a long sigh. Alaris had raised out of her seat, which she realized as she glanced around at the prying eyes of her classmates. Her voice lowered as she sat down. "Why did you even say it?"

Regulus looked back up. Up until the current conversation, he'd only ever spoken to Alaris in vague, half-sentences in the rare event that they were paired in Potions or stumbled upon each other in the halls. Now, that wouldn't be good enough. "My parents are big blood-purists, okay? I was eleven, how was I supposed to know that not everyone believed that! And if I had known about you – I mean, how funny you can be, like in Charms that time you made that Windgardium Levisa joke – like the real you, not just your parents, I would never have said that to you."

"You don't know me," snapped Alaris.

Regulus let out an exasperated sigh. "But I'd like to."

Alaris stared at him for a couple seconds, sizing him up. "And are you?"

"Am I what?"

"A blood-purist."

"No."

"But you think that my lineage is something to be looked past rather than celebrated?"

Regulus opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. "My parents always told me that mud–" his words caught in his throat as Alaris' eyebrows shot up, and he quickly faked a coughing fit. "Oh – s – sorry, d'you mind?" he choked, grabbing her goblet and taking a swig.

"Oh, come on!" she scoffed, grabbing her milk back after he'd cleared his throat.

Regulus composed himself. "Just a tickle in the throat. What I was saying was...my parents told met that people with non-magical parents were uncivilized, impure. Not as magical as someone like me. They taught me that it was something to look down upon. But ever since I came here, ever since I met people like you, I've realized that can't be true. After all, you are," he said this next bit reluctantly, "the smartest witch in our year."

"Smartest student, actually. Not just witch," corrected Alaris. She hid her satisfied smile behind her goblet, sipping slowly. Regulus was watching her intently.

"Yes, yes, you're right as usual. You may be smart but you have a ways to go in the way of humbleness." He sighed and let his gaze travel to the sparsely populated Slytherin table.

"I could say the same for you."

This drew Regulus' attention back to Alaris, who was skimming the pages of her book once again. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"You're a Black, aren't you? I'd imagine that you and your brother are quite alike."

"I'm nothing like my brother."

Alaris looked up. Regulus was staring at her intensely. His hands were balled into white knuckled fists, and he looked as if he might scream or burst into tears at any moment.

In an effort to ease the tension that was now filling the space between them, Alaris rolled her eyes and laughed. "I'll believe it when I see it."

Regulus stood up abruptly. "You'll see it when you believe it." There was a definite edge to his voice. "I'll see you Wednesday."

Alaris furrowed her brow. "Excuse me?"

"I lead a study group for History of Magic," he said, as if that clarified anything. Regulus had a smug look as Alaris stared up at him in confusion. He edged his way around the end of the table to stand next to Alaris. "The goblins aligned themselves with the werewolves in the in the rebellion of 1752, not 1612." One of his boney fingers tapped Alaris' parchment, pointing to her second bullet point.

"What!" Alaris exclaimed, aghast. She squinted as she hunched over the parchment.

Regulus suppressed a laugh as she began furiously flipping through her textbook. "I guess even the brightest student at Hogwarts needs a little help somethings... back left corner of the library – 7:00pm!" he called as he backed away from the table and into the hall. Alaris made no indication of acknowledgement, she just angrily chewed at her bottom lip whilst scratching something out on her homework.