"I trust you know how to behave, Miss Granger," Lucius drawled once the doors had closed behind them.

She nodded, opening her mouth—

"That includes holding your tongue."

She snapped it closed. Lucius turned down a long hallway to the left, and she walked quietly by his side, her heart hammering in her ears. They turned a corner into another room where a small crowd was gathered, voices low and glasses clinking. Lucius stepped through them, greeting his friends and associates. Their gazes lingered over her body, but they made no mention of her. They approached the wooden door, and Lucius turned to the guard. A quick Detection Spell, and the door opened for them.

Hermione stepped into a dimly lit room filled with cozy fireplaces and low-lit sconces. There were twenty or so people in the room. She spied Yaxley and Dolohov speaking to the Spanish Minister, Santos, and someone who must be his wife. Avery sat in a comfortable chair, speaking lowly with an Asian man. A bodyguard stood just to his side. Charlotte looked up from where she was exchanging empty glasses, her eyes quickly passing over Hermione before looking away. And across the room, Minister Cirillo from Greece stood with Mulciber. Cho Chang hung off his arm with a light smile, not sparing her a glance.

Cirillo's eyes landed on them, and her lips split into a smile, revealing perfectly straight teeth. "Lucius, darling. I was hoping you'd come."

Lucius tugged her by the elbow to cross the room. Cirillo met them in the middle.

"Eleni," he greeted. "I promised, didn't I?" They kissed cheeks.

"Still. Antonin tells me you do not visit often."

"You must know how I loathe this castle. Built by Muggles." He sneered as he glanced around at the walls, then rolled his shoulders back. "But of course, when I'm not needed out of the country, I'm willing to stop by. Provided you're in town, Madam Minister."

Cirillo winked at him, and her eyes drifted over Hermione. "So you brought her. Your son's prize."

Lucius laughed and stroked her cheek with a single finger. Hermione froze, fighting the urge to jerk away. "She's more of a family prize, I'd say."

"Precisely what I was hoping to hear," Cirillo purred. She stepped into Hermione without permission, tracing her lips with her fingertips, touching her hair. As if she was inspecting cattle.

"Truly exquisite," she murmured. She turned back to Lucius. "Surely you can part with her for a few hours?" Hermione felt her chest grow tight, suffocating her lungs. If it weren't for Lucius's grip on her elbow, she might have stumbled backward.

"Oh, I'm sure that's a possibility," he said lightly. "But I must warn you,"—he chuckled—"she's awful with her mouth."

Hermione blinked once. Twice. She flushed in embarrassment.

"For all that talk, she's not a quick learner." Lucius looked her over disdainfully. "She may be pleasant to look at, but she's not my first choice."

Cirillo laughed and let her eyes wander down her body. "That's quite alright. I prefer to use my own mouth. Isn't that right, Charlotte?"