Hermione took a slow inhale, looking away. She found Sally Fawcett in the crowd, silent tears streaming down her face.

Pansy closed her eyes, leaned her head back on the wall, and took a deep breath in.

Ginny spun around the room. “Hey. It’s— this isn’t the end. We have time.”

Someone else began to sniffle. A wail from the young girl in Penelope’s arms.

And Hermione realized they needed to know. She needed to tell them.

She looked around for something she could write with. Nothing sharp to carve. Nothing like chalk.

The only thing they had was fruit.

She moved to the basket. A huge bowl of grapes. It would take time, but it would do.

She pulled the bowl to the center of the room, and started plucking them off the vine.

She thought of the small mediwitch’s screams. The way she’d stepped in front of her before she’d dropped to the floor.

Hermione spelled it as best as she could.

The plump woman’s eyes — cold and distant even as she helped her. Not betraying anything. Her calculating gaze when she and Dolohov left the room.

Luna came to her side, standing next to her and watching.

She saw more feet come close to the grapes, waiting for her to be finished.

The vine was almost bare, and Hermione thought of Lydia Baxter, who she’d never met before today. She thought of Parvati and the way the dark-haired girl would copy her notes in Charms class.

She finished spelling. One grape left and she gave it a final period at the end. Like it was fact.

She stood, staring down, letting fifty girls swarm her to read what the Golden Girl had to say to them.

Not alone.

Chapter End Notes

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Chapter 4

Chapter Notes

CONTENT WARNING - References to non-con and rape. Nothing is depicted.

Huge thanks to SaintDionysus and raven_maiden .

See the end of the chapter for more notes

On a day she assumed was Thursday, they showered them again. She was taken first, alone. Dolohov watched her undress again, watched her under the spray. He scourgified her clothing and handed each item back to her, one at a time. Starting with her knickers.

He smiled and ran his fingers across the cotton as she stood in front of him, dripping in her towel.

"Cherish these moments, Mudblood," he said. "You won't need little knickers any longer after tomorrow."

She gave him no reaction. Unable to speak, she concentrated on becoming expressionless. She tugged the knickers on under the towel, and struggled the rest of the clothing on her still wet body.

When they returned her and took five girls, then five more, none of them complained about the lack of privacy in the showers. So, she assumed it was a special circumstance for her.

Word got around among the girls that the Auction would take place that Friday night. Enough whispers had been overheard to take a solid guess. Ginny began to pace around the room, trying to figure out as many details as she could. Hermione sat in the corner with Luna while the blonde played with her hair, braiding it and unbraiding it absentmindedly.