He'd already raped them. Before bringing them here. Like Parvati.

"Parkinson," he hissed. "Come with me, too."

Pansy stepped out from her spot behind a tall girl and pasted on a smirk. "Long time, no see, Walden." She strutted to the group. "You gonna drop a few Galleons on me tonight?"

He looked her up and down and said, "Why would I pay for something I already got for free?"

Pansy's smile fractured, still on her face, but broken now.

Pansy and the four other Lots followed Macnair's instructions and gripped his arm. He produced the portkey and they disappeared.

Mulciber entered the room next. He called for his Lots and they disappeared. She recognized a few Snatchers come in gleefully, grabbing up eight or so girls before swirling away.

Dolohov and Yaxley came in last. Dolohov called for his Lots, and Luna and Ginny left her side.

When it was just her and Yaxley left in the room, she wandered over to him without being summoned. It was clearly a type of Stockholm Syndrome, but she was certain Yaxley wouldn't hurt her. He hadn't shown the slightest bit of sexual interest in her, going so far as to keep Dolohov from molesting her further.

He grinned at her and pulled his wand. Hermione blinked, feeling like she'd just walked into a trap.

"Bit of a costume change, love," he said, smirking. "Turns out, you'll be top prize tonight. Best for last."

His wand tapped her shoulder strap, and she watched as the dress pulled closer to her skin, curving at her hips and rounding her breasts. No undergarments in the way.

He smiled and flicked his wand again, and she watched as the fabric shimmered gold.

"Golden Girl, indeed," he said.

And then grabbed her arm and whisked her off.

Chapter End Notes

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Chapter 5

Chapter Notes

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When they spun into their destination, Hermione had two seconds to let her eyes adjust to the dark before she was forced onto a chair, arms behind her. They affixed her hands to the back of the chair with a Sticking Charm. Because he'd tightened and shortened her dress, she struggled to press her knees together, the wooden seat pressed against her bare backside.

Yaxley moved away from her, speaking with the guards in low voices, and Hermione looked around her to find chairs with restrained Lots lining the entire room.

Not a room. She looked up to a tall ceiling, maybe three stories high, dizzying her. Catwalks and ropes, but also strange things hanging from pulleys. Velvet curtains dropping down from above.

Backstage, Macnair had said. They rented out a theatre for this.

No, of course not. Hermione shook her head. No one rented anything.