A third Lot was brought in, and then only the French girl messing with her hair stayed with her. She kept frowning and huffing, and Hermione smiled at her knees. Her hairless knees.

I like 'em bare.

They'd be taking the hair from between her legs next.

Hermione picked at her chipped nails while the girl fought her hair, trying to remember the way she'd gotten ready for the Yule Ball. She'd bought that sweet-smelling potion and spent hours on her hair. She'd been about to jump in the shower to wash it all away when Lavender and Parvati had come back to the dormitory and squealed at the sight of her, telling her she looked stunning.

They were both dead now.

The French girl had her lay back, open her legs, and remain still while she removed the hair from her sex.

~*~

They were returned in small dresses and Mary Jane shoes. Half of them in white, half in grey. She could guess what the white meant.

The girls who could still speak started informing the rest of the room what was happening. About an hour later, Dolohov and the young Death Eater started taking a few at a time to a separate room. The Appraisal, one of the returning girls said.

"It's 5,000 galleons more if you're a virgin," Mortensen murmured from the corner, in a grey dress. "Parkinson was right."

Pansy looked stunning in her slate grey dress when they returned her. Hair thick and sharp. She might have even conned them into swiping mascara on her eyes. She stood in her corner, arms crossed, lips pressed together. As cool and collected as ever—and it made Hermione wonder what it was they did to her. What they kept her for. She wished she could ask her, but even if she had a voice she didn't think she'd have the courage to.

They took Ginny and Luna together, which she thought was a mistake, but she wasn't about to protest. Dolohov led them away with two other girls, and returned them fifteen minutes later. Ginny looked a little green.

Luna plopped down beside her and said, "We saw Neville." Hermione snapped her head to her, waiting for more. Luna just smiled and said, "They aren't feeding or bathing them much."

"Granger and Parkinson," Yaxley called from the doorway. "Let's go."

She stood. These pairings... Not ideal for them. When Pansy met her at the door, Hermione finally caught a glance at the tattoo on her arm, now without her school clothes in the way.

C. Yaxley

Just like hers.

Yaxley was taking his Lots to be appraised. She wondered again how Pansy had gotten here. Was she held in the same location Hermione was before being dropped off at the Ministry? Had she been captured at the Battle of Hogwarts? Or later?

Yaxley took them down the corridor and into a completely new room where the older man with kind eyes sat at a desk, piles of paperwork around him.