Hermione whispered back, Not alone.

Ginny disappeared through the backstage door.

"And now... our grand finale."

It sounded like Ludo Bagman was announcing the Seeker entering the stadium. Perhaps he had? It could be if she just closed her eyes. The theatre thundered.

She blinked, trying to focus. She needed to be present. Maybe once this day was over, she would fall asleep with her concussion and never wake up.

They pushed her forward, escorting her onstage. Bagman was yelling something over the crowd, but she just squinted against the lights. Someone was operating the theatre spotlight, and Hermione almost laughed at that image.

She looked down at her feet as they placed her on a red "X" next to Bagman. Her gold dress shimmered.

She looked up, remembering Ginny's lifted chin. The theatre was full. Balcony after balcony. Must have been over a thousand people, and Hermione despaired at the thought that Voldemort had this many followers already. How many of these people had been lying in wait, biding their time until the end of the war? And now here they were.

The noise continued for ages. Her eyes landed on the masked Death Eaters on the ground level, filling up the majority of the front rows. Some of them on their feet, screaming and taunting and punching their fists in the air. Some of them seated, whispering to each other and pointing to the stage.

She scanned the crowd, looking for Bellatrix, for Greyback, for the Dark Lord himself. She recognized Yaxley in the front, Dolohov by his side. Mulciber and Nott Sr. She couldn't find the blond locks of Lucius Malfoy, or the raven curls of Bellatrix.

"Alright! Alright!" Bagman laughed, sounding like his old self again. "I know we're excited. Some of us have special toys to go home to..."

Hermione slid her eyes to Ludo as the men cackled. He'd been seduced by it all. Infected. He met her eyes and quickly looked away.

"Our final Lot of the evening," he announced theatrically. He read off her appraisal notes. "Hermione Granger." Hissing. "Mudblood." Booing. "'Golden Girl.'" Jeering. "Friend to Harry Potter, Gryffindor, and enemy of the Dark Lord."

They were on their feet again, screaming. She heard the words Mudblood and Bitch and Kill the slut.

String her up!

—deserves this, the dirty—

Show us her quim!

Have a bit of fun with her, you will!

Make an example out of her.

Bend over, sweetheart! Let's take a look at ya!

Mudblood whore. I'd love to break her in.

She let it wash over her, like a cool bath.

Only one masked Death Eater sat perfectly still throughout. Four rows back on the left aisle.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen," Bagman crooned. He raised his hands to call for peace. "I've not yet begun the bidding."

Laughter. A howl from the top balcony. Hermione looked up and found the shadows in the top tier pacing, prowling out of their chairs. The werewolves were invited. Separate and not-so-equal.

"Don't you want to know more about Miss Granger's medical exam?" Bagman sang. And the theatre exploded again.