The evenings in the Slytherin Common Room were not actually that different from the nights she'd spent in the Gryffindor Common Room, if Hermione was honest. Even with two decades between them, it wasn't as if things had changed that much at Hogwarts, except for the decor. There had been a time, early in her first term as a Slytherin, that Hermione had found Slytherin gloomy, with a perpetual green haze from the windows that looked into the Black Lake, but now she actually found it quite homey. It could get cold, so they made sure to keep a massive fire going at all time, leaving the Common Room really quite cheerful.
She also found that there was less distinction between the years of students in Slytherin house. It wasn't unusual for the sixth and seventh year students to mingle, or even a fifth year to join in as well. Maybe it had been the same in Gryffindor. Hermione really couldn't remember now. Perhaps she'd been so absorbed in what she, Harry and Ron got up to that everything else just faded away.
When she didn't find herself in the library, studying, Hermione could often spend her evenings lounging around on the couches in the Common Room, chatting with her brother, friends and other classmates, maybe catching a game of Wizard's Chess if she could be persuaded (though, she was not very good at it, so she didn't prefer it).
She would often sit with Mallory and chat with Elvira (frequently perched on Angus's lap, even if they were not 'official') about the gossip around the castle. Hermione didn't particularly care about which Hufflepuff was caught snogging which Gryffindor, but it was fun to giggle and laugh with her friends, on the in for once in a group of girls.
But, sometimes her ears would drift to the other conversations around the room, listening.
Even now, there was a dangerous edge to the conversations as people grew more and more concerned about the mysterious goings on that seemed to plague the Wizarding world â" people vanishing, never to be heard from again, and muggleborns being targeted. Hermione thought about mentioning the countless violent acts perpetrated against muggles, too, but she knew that she was unlikely to find a sympathetic audience. The difference in Slytherin was that there was no doubt who was responsible: Voldemort.
Or, the Dark Lord, as most of her housemates called him.
In some of her housemates, there was a certain breathless sort of quality that these evil acts were talked about â" that they were good and that the Dark Lord was cleaning up the Magical world from dirty, mudblood interlopers. To her surprise, the vast majority of her housemates still reacted with a healthy dose of fear. It didn't take too much of a leap to realize that if he was able to act lawlessly against muggleborns, there wasn't much to stop him from acting lawlessly against another group next. And no one wanted to be the next group.
Regulus was chatting with Rabastan and Oggie Perks about their upcoming Quidditch match against Hufflepuff, who were proving to be more difficult than expected, when their circle was invaded by an unhappy looking Severus. Hermione couldn't help but eavesdrop when she realized that Severus was questioning Regulus about the Dark Lord.
Ogden quickly stood up and made himself scarce when he realized that the conversation was going in a direction that he didn't want to participate in. Good for him, Hermione thought to herself, pleased to know that he was smarter than he looked.
"I've heard from Lucius that you are putting off taking the Mark," Severus said, his voice low, but deep enough that Hermione could hear each word clearly. "Again."
Hermione held her breath while she waited for Regulus to answer, keeping her eyes on Angus's fingers toying around one of Elvira's pale blonde locks to keep from reacting. She could already feel her heart hammering away in her chest, while she wondered if her dire warnings would be enough to stand up to the very real peer pressure that Regulus was surely facing from some of his friends.
"So? What's it to Lucius?" Regulus asked, with a snort.
"Well, he was under the impression that you were actually going to be living up to your potential. That you were going to do great things, not only for yourself, but for your family as well," Severus continued. "Your family knows how important the Dark Lord's work is. It's only natural that you would fight for him, too."
He said it so earnestly, Hermione wasn't sure what to think. Harry had been completely convinced that Snape worked for Voldemort the whole time, but the other adults in their lives said he could be trusted. That he was really a member of the Order. And that Dumbledore trusted Snape, so the rest of them should, too. But, if there was one thing she'd learned this year, it was that Dumbledore's judgment wasn't as perfect as they thought.
Regulus laughed, trying to keep the conversation casual and light. "Fight for him? Sev, be realistic. I'm still at Hogwarts. What sort of fighting would I even be doing while I was at school?" he asked. A logical argument, Hermione could admit, even if it only bought him a year. Would that be enough? "It's ridiculous to think that a student should be taking the Dark Mark in the first place. I don't know what I was thinking."
"There is work to do here," Severus continued, looking around furtively. "You should be proud. You'd be the youngest Death Eater at his side! It's an honor that He thought highly enough of you in the first place to consider it."
"Yeah, well, I reconsidered," Regulus said, starting to get a little bit irritated that Severus wouldn't leave the topic alone. "I'm not getting the Mark, Severus. And nothing you can say is going to convince me."
"Regulus, please," Severus said, bordering on begging. "Reconsider it again. It's important."
"Of course it's important," Bernard Rosier's arrogant voice echoed across the Common Room. He'd been playing Wizard's Chess with Ansel and Simon Burke, but he'd obviously been listening, too. It wasn't as if Severus was trying to keep the conversation private, after all. "We should all be doing what we can to help the Dark Lord."
Hermione's head snapped over, unable to pretend like she wasn't listening in at this point. Everyone was listening. Regulus had his arms crossed over his chest, but he looked bored, like the conversation was beneath him â" like a proud Black.
It was Rabastan's turn to laugh at Bernie's announcement, though. "Oh yeah, Bern? And just what are you doing to help the Dark Lord?" he demanded, imperiously.
"I'll get the Mark â" just like my uncle and my cousin. They are both highly favored by the Dark Lord," he said, boastful. "My uncle was one of his first followers."
"It's amazing that you haven't already been asked, then," Regulus drawled, doing his best to cut down Bernie where he stood.
"You'll do it, too, Rab, mark my words," Bernie said with a smirk. "Just like your brother. If you aren't too craven like Regulus here. Everyone knows that the Blacks are all talk."
Hermione watched Rabastan for a reaction, but she found none. There it was â" the most outright confirmation of a future she knew was just around the corner. Rabastan did nothing to deny that he would get the Mark, be it from family pressure or not.
"Maybe we just know how to think for ourselves," Regulus said, sounding smug.
Bernie laughed bitterly. "Oh? Is that what you think, Reg?" he asked, staring him down. "Because it's no secret to me â" or any of the rest of us â" why you've suddenly had a change of heart."
"Why's that?" Regulus asked, daring him to say it.
"You never waivered until your bitch sister showed up â" if that's even who you say she is," Bernie sneered, giving her an evil sort of smile. "Alphard's bastard shows up and suddenly you are wilting like a blood traitor. What? Is she a half-blood or something? Is the Black family no longer always pure?"
Her brother stood up faster than Hermione could blink, wand drawn and pointed Bernie's way. "I thought by now you would know better than to talk about my sister," he hissed. "Or do you need a painful reminder after what happened last time?"
Bernie looked around the Common Room, checking to see who would witness his humiliation if he backed down and slithered away. Ultimately, he must have decided that it was too great of a risk. Pulling his own wand, he trained it at Regulus with a serious look. Hermione gasped and jumped up, holding her own wand at her side. Other students scrambled to get back, some retreating to the safety of their own dorms, but most people wanted to watch what was going to happen between the two of them, particularly hot headed Regulus.
"I won't soon forget what your family did to me," Bernie said with a sneer. "All that fury, and for what? A stupid slut?"
Hermione recoiled. Orion had written to her earlier in the term to let her know that the Rosier issue had been handled, but he hadn't provided any details and she hadn't asked for them. Regulus also didn't share any personal retribution, though it was obvious that something had happened because there was a new rift among the sixth year Slytherin boys and Bernie did not try to speak with her.
"Come on, Bernard," Rabastan said, trying to insert himself to ease the rapidly simmering situation. "Leave it be."
"No, you leave it be Lestrange. This doesn't concern you," Bernie countered, with a smirk. "Just because you want to get your hand up her skirt doesn't mean that you're needed. You tried to play white knight and she still didn't want anything to do with you."
Any discussion about hands being up skirts obviously had Regulus seeing red because he immediately sent a stinging jinx unlike any that she'd seen at Bernie immediately. It hit its target and Bernie nearly dropped his wand in surprise, crying out in pain. But Regulus was not done yet. He'd had a lifetime of practice with all manner of dark hexes and jinxes and it seemed that he was willing to use them to hurt a wizard who had been his friend.
All to protect her.
Bernie was no slouch either. He quickly regained his composure and sent a blasting spell Regulus's way. Her brother narrowly sidestepped the zing of magic. It struck one of the pillows instead, sending feathers flying throughout the room.
Hermione quickly realized just how dangerous this could get, not just for Bernie and Regulus, but for all the bystanders as well. Making her mind up quickly, she stepped in front of her brother, casting a protego just in time to send another hex rebounding into the fire. Embers shot out of the fireplace.
Bernie was unprepared to face off against her. Hermione never was the best in Defense Against the Dark Arts, but she'd had a fantastic teacher in Harry the year before and she had the comforting knowledge that she had dueled against some seasoned Death Eaters and lived to tell the tale. Wordlessly, she defended against three more hexes before getting in an incarcerous.
Rosier screamed as the ropes tied around his body and he tipped over in a clatter. Not done with him yet, she added an expelliarmus for good measure. Bernie's wand flew through the air in a wide arc, into her outstretched hand.
"Enough!" she seethed, wanting to be done with Bernard Rosier for good. "This ends now."
Regulus, not to be outdone, strode across the room and gave Bernie two kicks in the side, making him cry out in pain. "And don't let me catch you saying anything about my sister ever again, got it?" he demanded.
"Regulus!" Hermione cried, grabbing him by the shoulder. She didn't want him to face any consequences for dueling someone on her behalf or for kicking an opponent while he was down. "He isn't worth it, I swear it. Just leave him here to figure it out."
Hermione dropped his wand next to his prone body, giving him a look of disgust before she ultimately walked away. He could figure out how to get himself out of this one.
She pulled Regulus â" grey eyes still blazing with fury and glaring at Bernie struggling to get free of his bounds â" into a tight hug. "I'm going to bed," she told him. "I think you should do the same. I'm fine, I promise."
When he still would not look at her, Hermione felt exasperated. She caught the eye of Rabastan. "Will you make sure he doesn't do anything stupid?" she asked, hoping that Rab was a good enough friend to look out for her brother.
Rabastan nodded, walking over to cuff Regulus around the shoulders. "I've got him," he promised, looking at her with new eyes.
Hermione bit her lip and retreated to her room, completely unaware of all the people she had staring at her while she walked away.