The Arithmancy class was undoubtedly one of Rose's most favored subjects, and for good reason: at Slytherin, there were merely two students enrolled—she and Regulus Black. As the esteemed Algorus Conway elaborated on the various methods for deciphering codes through reverse numerology, the young girl found herself unexpectedly pondering her future.

Rose had long aspired to be a curse-breaker, provided her parents had permitted her to pursue a career, which was utterly unthinkable for a young woman of her standing, whose foremost duty was to consider marriage. The pressing concern, however, was with whom, and in these uncertain times, that question was tantamount to a matter of life and death.

From her position, Rose had ample opportunity to scrutinize the youngest, yet still sole male heir of the Black family. She had to concede that he possessed a certain allure. Shorter and slightly more fragile than his brother, what struck her most was the icy demeanor that enveloped him. The wealth and sense of superiority instilled in him from a young age granted him the illusion of great self-assurance, yet Rose understood that this façade was deceptive. He remained the boy who idolized Sirius, left heartbroken by his departure for their other brother.

The princess of green was well-acquainted with Walburga and Orion Black, and she could scarcely imagine the immense pressure Regulus must endure from his parents. The Blacks were fervent radicals who cherished blood purity above all else, even at the risk of erasing numerous family members from their lineage.

The Shafiqs were particularly affluent and, moreover, enjoyed a certain degree of notoriety, as her father, Aurelius Shafiq, owned several Quidditch teams, including the Montrose Magpies. However, unlike other distinguished families, the Shafiqs preferred to traverse the globe for much of the year. Rose's father spent the majority of his time in the United States with his mistress, while her mother, Iris, oscillated between Paris and the south of France.

Sensing scrutiny, Regulus turned his head, his cold gaze meeting Rose's feline emeralds. The young boy offered a tentative smile, which she reciprocated before redirecting her full attention back to the lesson.

The statuesque brunette recalled what Daisy had divulged about Regulus. Regulus Arcturus Black—a name that stirred the fantasies of many girls at Hogwarts and beyond, synonymous with wealth and power. It was evident that Aurelius Shafiq would be elated if his daughter were to wed the crown jewel of the wizarding world, regardless of the sacrifices entailed.

Suddenly, Rose was jolted from her reverie by the sound of a quill scratching against parchment. The elegant script of Regulus magically materialized on the paper: I'm literally lost... and distracted... I could undoubtedly use your talents in Arithmancy... Revision tonight?

The beautiful brunette could not suppress a smile; after all, credit must be given where it's due, and Black was indeed quite skilled in magic. Moreover, Regulus was, in truth, a far superior scholar. There was a personal satisfaction in recognizing that a single glance was sufficient to awaken any boy at Hogwarts. It was merely a matter of time before Regulus mustered the courage to act.

Rose seized her quill and inscribed on the parchment, 8 PM at the library? She observed Black's reaction, which remained inscrutable until the characteristic sound of a quill scratching against the fiber of the paper drew her attention: Let's say 9 PM in the small square courtyard.

Regulus turned to her, his expression impassive, and she flashed a smile to affirm that this arrangement suited her perfectly.

At the conclusion of the class, as if nothing had transpired, they each departed in opposite directions, feigning ignorance of the rendezvous awaiting them that evening. It was rather amusing to witness how Rose Shafiq and Regulus Black, both in the same year and social circle, seldom exchanged words. There was no particular rationale for this; unlike his brother, Regulus was not particularly loquacious or expressive outside the realms of Quidditch or dueling. He perpetually seemed to observe and analyze, rarely voicing his thoughts. This was hardly shyness; rather, it exuded an air of superiority. Orion Black exhibited the same demeanor, which irked Aurelius Shafiq to no end.

That evening, during dinner, Rose was particularly silent, choosing to observe the students around her rather than indulge in the meal, her gaze ultimately drawn back to Regulus and Rosier, who were engrossed in a lively conversation with Lestrange.

"Shall we engage in a game of chess afterward?" Daisy inquired, her mouth so full she could scarcely articulate.

"By Merlin, Parkinson, do refrain from speaking with your mouth full," the little redhead rolled her eyes. "And no, there will be no chess game; I have a date afterward, and before you inquire, no, it's none of your business."

Daisy appeared unfazed by the beautiful Shafiq's remark; after all, Rose would eventually confide in her.

"As long as he possesses good ideas," Daisy remarked, her attention fully diverted to her plate.

Good ideas—Rose had been inundated with discussions about them throughout her life, and she had believed in them wholeheartedly. Yet today, it felt as though she were reliving the dark epoch of Grindelwald, for her great-grandfather had met his demise in Azkaban for following and financing the dark wizard. Aside from the disgrace, the family had teetered on the brink of ruin, had her grandfather not married Ornella Rowle and subsequently invested in and expanded his wife's fortune. The Shafiq family had nearly lost everything, and for what? Nothing, as Grindelwald now languished in a cell in Nurmengard while the world continued to evolve as though nothing had transpired.

"How far would you go for good ideas?" she challenged Daisy, her piercing gaze fixed upon her.

Parkinson lifted her bulging eyes to the haughty younger Shafiq. "What do you mean by how far? Marry a pure-blood, of course, and fight for my cause." Shafiq was acutely aware that the Parkinsons had commenced negotiations regarding Daisy's marital status and that she was merely awaiting the news of her suitor. Rose sometimes sensed that Parkinson lived vicariously through her, and this Dark Mage provided a thrill in her life that she may have never encountered. The beautiful brunette recognized that, as abhorrent as it was, people were fully capable of killing and waging war out of sheer boredom; one merely needed to observe Rabastan and Evan to be convinced. They were indifferent to defending ideals inherited from their parents; all they desired was the authorization to engage in combat and settle scores.

"Fight? Fight against whom?" Rose's voice was barely above a whisper, yet she felt the urgent need to comprehend why her fellow dorm mates suddenly seemed preoccupied with matters beyond classes, Quidditch, and boys.

"Against those who threaten us—the traitors to their blood, like those Weasleys, or the Muggle-borns who appear to be multiplying." Rose raised an aristocratic eyebrow and leaned in toward her friend.

"Do you genuinely believe this Dark Mage you all idolize is any different from Grindelwald? That he will restore order?" The beautiful Shafiq had deliberately emphasized the final word to underscore the absurdity of such a retrograde cause.

"He is far more powerful; he has a mission and fights to fulfill it." Rose nodded skeptically; she knew there was no point in arguing with someone so deeply indoctrinated.

"Rose, the world is changing, and not to our advantage," Daisy murmured, her concern evident.

"But even if the world changes, we are not left behind; we remain wealthy and influential," Parkinson shook her head.

"For how long? It seems you harbor no affection for your family, nor for us," this last remark seemed to strike a nerve with Rose, who simply stared at her friend, remaining silent.

No, Rose was uncertain of her feelings toward her caste. She cherished wealth and the comfort it afforded her, yet she loathed the protocols and obligations associated with her rank and status. Perhaps what she admired most about that traitor, Sirius Black, was his audacity to embrace freedom and break free from his chains. She would have loved to do the same, but she lacked the courage—at least for now. And as for Voldemort, she was resolute in her belief that she would never risk her life or her freedom for ideals that suffocated her.

When the bell of the great tower tolled, Rose made her way to the small courtyard. It was nearly dark and rather chilly, and the statuesque young woman draped her cloak over her shoulders. Upon reaching the meeting spot, Rose took a moment to observe Regulus, who was immersed in a book, seemingly oblivious to the world around him. She knew precisely what he wanted and was drawn there to stave off her boredom, perhaps out of a sense of curiosity. As a Shafiq, she was beautiful, undoubtedly the most striking of her generation, wealthy, and significantly influential; her resume would allow her to marry the most eligible suitors in England, provided they shared her father's views.

As was his custom, Regulus ignored Rose until she stood beside him. Exuding composure and self-control, the young Black seemed almost irked by her presence.

"Don't you find this amusing?" he inquired, closing his book on the history of Quidditch.

"Suggesting such a venue for revision?" Rose retorted sharply, irritated by Regulus's overly aloof demeanor.

"You didn't honestly believe I required your assistance with something as trivial as reverse numerology, did you?" Rose raised her eyebrows so high that small lines were temporarily visible on her forehead.

"So you brought me here for nothing?" she finally let slip, realizing that the corridors surrounding the courtyard were empty, thanks to the curfew.

"Let's say my primary objective has been achieved: to annoy my cousin," Black's frankness and confidence were disarming.

"Then if you'll excuse me, I have far more pressing matters than to irritate Evan Rosier," Rose pivoted on her heels and pretended to distance herself from the young Slytherin, who hastily seized her arm, compelling her to face him.

"I remain a Black, Rose, and if you wish to rid yourself of him, I am your best asset." His reasoning held a semblance of logic, yet Rose understood that this was hardly the sole motivation behind Regulus Black's proposal.

"This charming offer truly warms my heart, but I don't believe I need your assistance regarding Rosier, thank you." As she attempted to extricate herself, Regulus drew her closer and whispered in her ear, his voice surprisingly smooth, "And my secondary objective is to spend a little time with you."

"And this occupies your time in sixth year?" Regulus displayed a satisfied smile.

"Let's say that previously, I was primarily interested in Quidditch," Rose countered with a flirtatious smile of her own.

"And you couldn't invite me to Hogsmeade like any self-respecting wizard?" the beautiful Shafiq inquired, a hint of mockery lacing her voice.

"It's so cliché, not to mention I find the thrill of defying curfew far more exhilarating." It was the first time Rose could observe a semblance of emotion flit across Regulus's visage, barring his moments of exuberance on the Quidditch field.

Shafiq was acutely aware of her beauty and desirability, and she reveled in it. To her, this was merely a game, and for the time being, unless curiosity propelled her, she felt absolutely no attraction toward Regulus.

"Is this newfound urge to transgress the rules?" Rose's question might have seemed innocuous, yet she couldn't help but recall Sirius's words regarding his brother.

"I am a Black; I am meant to transgress the rules," he declared, as though it were self-evident.

Rose gracefully perched on a low wall, concealed from prying eyes. "I am entirely at your disposal; what would you like to know?" Regulus's steel gaze fixed on her, leaning against a wall mere inches from her, much like his brother, and for a fleeting moment, Shafiq felt as though she were in the presence of Sirius.

"Why do I appear to be the only boy you ignore? We grew up together; I am captain of the Quidditch team, and judging by the number of perfumed letters I receive, I enjoy a certain popularity among the fairer sex. I'm even certain McGonagall finds me appealing," he smiled at her once more.

"And with an unassailable modesty," Rose sighed, tucking her long legs beneath her. "I don't know; you afforded me no form of attention, so I chose to ignore you."

The stunning brunette's candidness failed to disarm Regulus. "False! I invited you all summer, but you were absent, and during the final against the Magpies in June, I invited you to my box, yet you did not respond."

Rose bit her lower lip; she distinctly recalled receiving an invitation from the Blacks but had neglected to acknowledge it since she had her own box. As for that summer, she had received nothing from him.

"It's of little consequence, you know. I consoled myself with Greengrass and Nott," this last point elucidated why the two seventh-year Slytherins appeared to no longer converse.

"Ouch, I concede it wasn't particularly polite of me," Rose now pondered why she had not responded—most likely out of negligence, and she felt a pang of guilt.

"No matter; what was bothersome was hearing Rosier drone on about everything he did with you." Black ran a hand through his hair.

"Speaking of which," Rose began, but before she could finish, Regulus locked his gray eyes onto hers. "I know you didn't do anything."

"How do you know?" Rose asked, taken aback.

The young Slytherin donned a proud and satisfied expression. "I didn't know; now I do."

"HEY! YOU TWO!" Regulus and Rose turned toward the courtyard, where Alban Prewett, the head boy, was glaring at them, pointing his wand.

The two Slytherins exchanged satisfied glances, and the unfortunate Hufflepuff had no time to react before Black cast a spell on him and bolted away, dragging Rose along, who was in fits of laughter.

The two pure-bloods continued to race toward the Slytherin dungeon, and upon reaching the entrance, Regulus halted Rose, who was about to give the password.

"Would you care to accompany me to Hogsmeade?" Rose regarded her interlocutor for a moment.

"Only if Slytherin obliterates Gryffindor in the first match of the season," she declared with a wink.