The Slytherin dungeon was already deserted as Rose left it, with most students making their way to the first class of the day. As she passed by a mirror bordered with a golden serpent, Rose seized the opportunity to adjust the diamond brooch pinned to her tie as well as the pearl headpin adorning her thick black hair. The Shafiq family was well-known throughout the wizarding world for their immense wealth, and the young woman displayed it unabashedly as a symbol of her status

Professor Slughorn's Potions classroom was situated in the castle's dungeons thus in close proximity to the lair of the serpents. With a feline and nonchalant gait, the aristocrat made her way to class, paying no attention to the already tardy students rushing past her as if their very lives depended on it. Rose cared little about punctuality; after all, Slughorn would never dare deduct points from a Shafiq.

Upon entering the dimly lit classroom of Slughorn, Rose was met with a lingering scent of sulfur, Rose scanned the room with her piercing gaze, aware that most of the students already seated were staring at her without the slightest subtlety.

There was an empty seat next to Parkinson who didn't even bother to raise her eyes in Rose's direction. "Observe what she adorns in her hair; do you believe it's genuine? " whispered Sarah Burke, an indiscreet Ravenclaw whose behavior starkly undermined her house's esteemed reputation.

Rose couldn't care less; however, a displeasing scene nearly made the delicate nose of the beautiful Shafiq wrinkle: Contrary to his usual habit, Regulus was not sitting alone at the back of the class. Upon awakening that morning, Rose had considered taking the empty seat next to Black to benefit from his potions talents, especially since she despised practical work in that subject.

To her great surprise, an unwanted pest was eyeing her from the seat she had contemplated occupying just minutes earlier. Claire Travers. Since the previous year, the annoying Ravenclaw had been getting a little too close to the Slytherin students, and Rose had no doubt about what motivated her to act in such a manner. A pretty, sparkling blonde, her angelic visage poorly concealed her venality. The Travers family was a pure-blood family, but they lacked the prestige and fortune of the very great.

Regulus Black was leaning against the wall, his legs stretched next to the chair occupied by Travers. He looked up at Rose, and for an instant, she, whose Veela blood boiled in her veins, believed she saw the Prince of Slytherin bestow upon her a satisfied smirk.

"Miss Shafiq, would you kindly take your seat, please? We are about to begin the class," Rose could not help but smile, so predictable was old Horace Slughorn. His mere lineage conferred upon him almost total immunity when it came to the august Potions professor.

Rose seated herself next to Daisy, who observed her for a brief moment. "You seem upset, Shafiq," she murmured, almost amused.

"Can you tell me what Travers is doing next to Black?" Daisy scrutinized her friend, aware of her visceral hatred for the Ravenclaw.

"Mr. Travers financed his political campaign with Orion Black; by the way, Claire was in Regulus's box at several Quidditch matches this summer." Matches to which Rose had been invited but had chosen to ignore the invitation—a detail she deliberately chose not to reveal to Parkinson.

"This explains why she suddenly believes she belongs with us," hissed Shafiq as she opened her book to the page titled "The Third Law of Golpalott."

"Well, if Travers is elected Minister of Magic, she WILL be one of us, Rose," a mocking grin spread across the fine, aristocratic face of the beautiful heiress.

"Daisy, even if her dear daddy miraculously became Minister of Magic, she will never be one of us; she's merely a cute little thing who aims too high; she is too poor, too commonplace," Parkinson seemed offended for a brief moment but said nothing further.

"Miss Shafiq, would you do me the honor of coming to my desk to prepare the potion in front of your classmates?" The cat-like eyes of the sculptural Shafiq settled upon the professor and in a composed and self-assured voice, she responded to Slughorn without a hint of hesitation, "It would be my pleasure, Professor, but may I request the assistance of the best student in our class for this task?" Slughorn appeared elated at this proposition. After all, a duo formed by Rose Shafiq and Regulus Black was sufficient to illuminate his day.

"Certainly, Regulus, would you have the kindness to assist Miss Shafiq?" Rose rose gracefully and turned to face Regulus, who had also just stood. The sixth-year Slytherin was jubilant, for she knew she had triumphed once more.

Black walked to Slughorn's desk without casting a glance at his partner. Cold, methodical, he despised losing these types of duels. Before joining Regulus, Rose observed Claire, and when their eyes met, the Ravenclaw understood that one should never challenge a Shafiq.

Slughorn began to pull out several ingredients before handing a vial to Regulus, who shook it in his hand before addressing his professor, "Is this a Draught of Living Death?"

The old Horace, like the entire class, could not conceal his astonishment. A Draught of Living Death was not trivial; it was dark magic, potent magic, and Rose felt her stomach knot as she imagined how the young man had seemingly become an expert in the field.

"That is correct, Mr. Black. Do you know the ingredients?" Regulus, with his indifferent tone, began to list the ingredients while Rose instinctively surveyed her fellow students. Some appeared astonished and fearful whereas others, like Travers, Nott, and Parkinson, were utterly captivated. It did not escape Rose's notice that the lack of surprise displayed by some spoke volumes about their engagement as well as Regulus' with the Dark Lord and the imminent Threat raging beyond the castle walls.

Hogwarts had deliberately been established in Scotland, far from the turmoil of the country. Within the castle walls, in theory, students were protected from the meanders of the real world. It was unfortunate and troubling to realize that now, in addition to the internal rivalries between houses and social stratas, politics would now divide the students among themselves.

Rose's gaze met Narcissa's and she could read the same sentiment of fear and realization within it. Her fellow Slytherin and rival was many things, but like Rose, she had no desire to see her world of socialites vanish in favor of an absurd war to defend a power that Pure-Bloods had not even lost.

"That's fascinating, young Black! Six points for Slytherin!" Slughorn exclaimed, nearly causing Rose to jump. A sigh of indignation passed through the Ravenclaw camp, although the entire school was accustomed to Horace Slughorn's blatant favoritism toward the green and silver house.

"Everyone, get to work! Parkinson, join Travers; you will work together on this exercise." Slughorn walked past each desk to distribute the ingredients.

"Who would have thought the great Rose Shafiq was jealous?" Every time he addressed her, the beautiful aristocrat found herself irritated by his coldness and arrogance.

Rose grabbed the parchment listing the various ingredients necessary to concoct the remedy according to Golpalott's principles before setting it back on the table with disinterest. "Jealous of your unhealthy interest in useless potions?" Rose snapped. Regulus raised his gray eyes to his partner and bore a satisfied expression.

"No, rather of the magnificent blonde who unwittingly occupied a seat you wanted for yourself" At that precise moment, Rose did not know whether Regulus was bluffing or if he had guessed her intentions.

"By Merlin, it's the foul fumes from your cauldron that are getting to your head," Regulus turned his attention back to the antidote. He raised his wand and deftly used a silent spell. One could reproach many things to the younger Black brother but he was skilled in magic. For an instant, Rose fixed her gaze upon the wizard's forearm; she knew that Death Eaters bore that infamous mark and she wanted to know if he had joined them that summer.

"You lack discretion, Shafiq," Black hissed as he returned his focus to the potion.

"That especially affects me coming from someone who ostentatiously displays his knowledge of dark magic before all of Hogwarts," Regulus let out an almost sincere laugh.

"My knowledge and abilities go far beyond this simple domain," Rose raised an aristocratic eyebrow before whispering in Regulus's ear, "Just get us an O and defeat Gryffindor on Saturday, and then you can show off your talents." The young Black fixed his dark gaze upon the young woman and leaned closer to her, "And what do you have to offer me in return? The attention of a Black is never free."

Rose straightened up and winked at him, "Much more than what your political lapdog could ever dream of promising you."

Regulus Black was, like Evan Rosier, an ideal choice for Rose, who was increasingly under pressure from her father regarding her future. And by future, one meant marriage. Wealth and prestige came with a significant sacrifice: marriage. The self-proclaimed princess of Slytherin observed Regulus's profile, his ebony hair hiding his face, his straight nose, and his natural elegance. Feeling watched, the young man raised his eyes and the two aristocrats regarded one another without uttering a word or allowing a single emotion to transpire. Rose, overcome by a sudden protective tenderness, placed her hand on the young Black's forearm, thus compelling him to cease his work. "I believe your antidote is perfect," she sighed before stepping back and leaning against the back of her chair while awaiting Slughorn's validation. Regulus's cold gaze traveled from Rose's hand to her face, and for a moment, the haughty heiress seemed to read a certain unease in him.

The remainder of the class passed in total silence, each student returning to their original place. Yet, Claire's outrageously flirtatious behavior towards the heir of the Blacks irked the beautiful Shafiq to no end.

"For Merlin's sake, what does she think she is doing?" hissed Rose, seizing Daisy's arm and thus forcing her to slow her pace to observe Claire Travers and Regulus Black leaving the room and disappearing into the dungeons of Hogwarts.

Parkinson took a moment to respond, aware that the course of the day would largely depend on what she would retort at that precise moment.

"I imagine she's trying to curry favor with Regulus," Rose gracefully turned to face her companion, studying her intently with eyes that shimmered like two emeralds.

"My my, you are a true little reporter for the Daily Prophet, do you have any other surprising revelations to share with me today?" Rose sighed, exasperated, before resuming in a soft yet surprisingly threatening tone, "Why does that little pest Travers think she has the right to flaunt herself with Regulus?"

"Because her father will likely be elected Minister; the entirety of the Great Families supports him to promote the cause," the manner in which Parkinson stated all of this made Rose feel nauseous.

"The entirety of the Great Families?! Certainly not! My family has never supported the Travers and never will! And do you really think that placing Orion Black's lackey in power will suffice to pass a law demanding the pure and simple eradication of those who disturb you, who, moreover, represent the vast majority of the country?!" Rose's vehement words seemed to freeze Daisy, who took a step back.

"The Shafiqs cannot remain neutral for long; if you are not with us, you are against us." Rose studied her friend for a long moment; the small redhead's plump hands trembled, and her nostrils flared. It must have taken all her courage to dare speak those words.

With an arrogant bearing, a self-satisfied smile plastered across her perfect features, Rose placed her delicate and richly adorned hand on Parkinson's clammy cheek.

"I suggest you keep your opinions to yourself in the future; courageous outbursts are always pathetic when they emanate from a kitten pretending to be a lion. " She paused "I shall not deign to respond to you, yet I implore you to recognize that, in my case, I refuse to bow before anyone, regardless of their status; it is both my right and privilege as a Shafiq. The Travers demean themselves for the mere scraps that individuals like me choose to leave behind; this is how I regard this insignificant social climber. However, I am beginning to wonder if you are ultimately of the same ilk, which is quite regrettable." Daisy remained silent, yet in that moment, she understood that both she and her friend had chosen very different paths.

If she did not show it, Parkinson's words resonated within her and Shafiq understood that her world was indeed changing. Yet, she would never pledge allegiance to that madman Voldemort.