Ginny smiled demurely, sipping from her champagne glass.

"These two know each other, I take it?" Rookwood said, gesturing between Ginny and Hermione. "Both of them sucked Potter's cock?"

The men chuckled. Ginny simply blinked.

"I'll ask you to watch your language in front of my great-grandmother's portrait," Lucius said, lifting his glass to point at the grumpy looking grey-haired woman in her frame. The men laughed.

"Is that right, darling?" Avery said softly into Ginny's ear, his hand fisting the hair at the base of her skull. "Do you remember your old friend?"

Hermione watched Ginny twist — her bones spindly under the pale-blue skin of her back — and turn her gaze on Hermione for the first time. Her warm brown eyes were shallow pools of nothingness as they roved over Hermione.

"Hardly," she said.

Her voice was different. Like a hook had been pulled tight around her throat and tugged until the melody left her inflections. In that one word, Hermione could hear an aristocratic drawl unfamiliar to Ginny's natural consonants and vowels.

"Here you all are." Hermione turned to the door and found Nott Sr. leaning drunkenly on the doorframe. "Not going to invite me to this little private party?"

Yaxley pursed his lips in distaste. Rookwood and Mulciber shared a meaningful look.

"Not at all, Ted," Lucius said smoothly. "Do join us. I was just about to open a bottle of Scotch."

Nott Sr.'s eyes lit up. He stumbled into the room and dropped into a high-backed chair. "What's the latest, then?" Lucius handed him a drink, his lip slightly curled.

Luckily, unlike at Edinburgh, neither Hermione nor Ginny were prime attractions for the evening. That honor belonged to Switzerland. The room was focused and almost civil as they discussed the latest initiative to retake Geneva. Most were confident; others pointed to rumors of foreign assistance to the French and Swiss rebels. Lucius said little, simply humming and circling the rim of his glass with his finger.

Hermione shrunk between the drinks trolley and the back of Lucius's chair, trying to be invisible as her brain scrambled to memorize names and dates. But unless she went to Edinburgh again soon, it wouldn't be of any use.

At one point, Dolohov approached to pour himself another drink, and Hermione froze like a rabbit in the headlights. Lucius swiftly stood and stepped between them, refilling Dolohov's glass himself and thrusting it into his hand with a sneer. Dolohov returned to his seat, sulking, and Hermione's fingers loosened on the back of Lucius's chair.

Hermione tried not to stare at Ginny. But her control began slipping as the men droned on, and she chanced a glance in her direction. Her stomach turned at Ginny's tight smile as Avery wrapped his arm around her waist. She sipped her champagne while he pressed his face into her neck, laughing when he whispered in her ear.

All of it was wrong.

It was as if the fire behind her eyes had burnt down to embers, dying in the hearth. Hermione's books shivered as she quickly looked away, focusing on a lake with still waters.