His hand was tight on her back, sending tension up her spine. "I suppose we have twenty minutes."

"Twenty minutes is plenty of time for me," Pucey said with a wink. A laugh burst from his chest as he dragged Mortensen out the door. A gentle push on her lower back, and she was propelled forward.

Hermione memorized the path they took back down the stairs, trying to quell the growing panic in her ribs. Harper followed after her and Draco as they fell into step with Flint and Penelope, his hand on her backside as he chatted with Draco about his recent trip to Brazil. They retraced their steps back through the hall past several people still mingling in corners, having hushed conversations over sloshing drinks.

Pushing through a door on the other side, Hermione felt the low thrumming of a bass drum, the music rhythmic and sultry. She closed her eyes as they waited, summoning what was left of her control. Think of a lake with still waters.

The curtains parted, revealing the girl from the beginning of the night — Charlotte — with a tray of champagne and scotch.

"Gentlemen," she greeted with a wide smile. Her lips were still violently red, her hair still falling in perfect waves. Probably glamoured to stay that way.

Flint plucked a scotch from her tray. "Charlotte, dear," he cooed. "You look ravishing. When are you finally going to come home with me?" He pouted and stroked her arm.

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Marcus." Charlotte winked at him and turned to offer the tray to Draco. "And you know the Carrows wouldn't allow it."

Hermione stared at her, filing that information away as Draco pressed another glass of champagne into her hands. The Carrows were involved here. And in charge of some of the girls. Her eyes fell on Charlotte's silver collar as the pretty girl batted her lashes at Draco, then Blaise, as she glided down the line with her tray.

The music swelled when they finally passed through the curtains, entering a large room with deep blue walls and dark woods. Dozens of couches and armchairs facing each other in intimate seating areas, stretching in every direction. Low candlelight and thick clouds of smoke overhead. Hermione's eyes widened, darting around the room.

Men on couches with girls in their laps. Silver-collared girls walking around with crystal platters of cocktails and hors d'oeuvres, heels higher and slips shorter than hers. A door flung open to their left and Hermione jumped as a man stumbled out, buckling his trousers. Staring into the small room, she could see a girl standing next to an armchair, straightening her dress with a practiced smile before Draco pushed her onwards.

She swallowed the acid in her throat, eyes struggling to take in every corner. A gambling table to the right with several men gathered, a few girls on their arms cheering them on. Nott Sr. at the head, tossing dice with a leggy blonde at his elbow. Hermione jerked her head in the opposite direction, afraid to catch his eye.