Back The Auction Save as PDF
Contents ( 44)
  1. Preface
  2. The Auction
  3. Chapter 1
  4. Chapter 2
  5. Chapter 3
  6. Chapter 4
  7. Chapter 5
  8. Chapter 6
  9. Chapter 7
  10. Chapter 8
  11. Chapter 9
  12. Chapter 10
  13. Chapter 11
  14. Chapter 12
  15. Chapter 13
  16. Chapter 14
  17. Chapter 15
  18. Chapter 16
  19. Chapter 17
  20. Chapter 18
  21. Chapter 19
  22. Chapter 20
  23. Chapter 21
  24. Chapter 22
  25. Chapter 23
  26. Chapter 24
  27. Chapter 25
  28. Chapter 26
  29. Chapter 27
  30. Chapter 28
  31. Chapter 29
  32. Chapter 30
  33. Chapter 31
  34. Chapter 32
  35. Chapter 33
  36. Chapter 34
  37. Chapter 35
  38. Chapter 36
  39. Chapter 37
  40. Chapter 38
  41. Chapter 39
  42. Chapter 40
  43. Chapter 41
  44. Afterword

She supposed they weren't "Lots" anymore. Slaves? Concubines?

They pushed her into an empty broom closet. She watched as they murmured the room number to each other, one of them writing it down and tapping his wand on the parchment.

They shut the door and left her in darkness. She tried the door handle, unsurprised when it didn't budge.

She sat in the middle of the floor, hugging her knees to her chest, and waited.

~*~

"Are there any boys at school you like?"

Hermione snapped her eyes to her mother, staring at her over the bowl of cookie dough. "Mum!"

Her mother laughed. "Just asking! What about Harry?"

"Oh, mother, no." Hermione rolled her eyes and grabbed a handful of dough from the bowl. "Harry's… no."

"Or Ron? You spend more time with his family than your own, you know." She bumped Hermione's hip as she placed the ball of dough on the baking sheet.

Hermione frowned. "Ron is infuriating. He's lazy and sleeps too much and he's always late." She huffed and pushed her hair away from her face. "He was so rude to me this past Christmas. I almost didn't forgive him. He's such a child."

Her mother chuckled and opened the oven door. "He'll grow up. I'm sure you'll turn around one day and find he's quite changed." She placed the baking sheet on the rack. "And no one else? Didn't you leave things a bit unfinished with that Vincent?"

"Viktor," Hermione corrected. "Viktor Krum. Yes, we still write but…" Hermione washed her hands. "I guess he wasn't quite my type. He's very handsome. But… I think I like…"

She stopped herself, frowning down at the suds.

"Yes?"

"Lighter hair," she settled on.

Her mother pushed Hermione's curls over her ear. "And is there anyone who does have light hair?" She could hear the smile in her voice.

"There is." Hermione reached for the dish towel and wrenched the material over her hands. "But he's cruel, and poncy, and arrogant." She tossed the towel down. "And I'm a fool."

Her mother kissed her temple. "That handsome, huh?"

Hermione groaned. "His hair is so beautiful, Mum."

Her mother laughed.

~*~

She had no way to count time, but she suspected she'd been locked in the closet for two hours. Strange, because others had been collected as soon as the Auction had ended.

The door wrenched open, blinding her with the light from the hallway. She threw her arm up, shielding her eyes and her body.

"Up."

She crawled to her feet, staring at the outline of Yaxley in the doorway. He stepped aside for her to exit. No house elf in the hallway.

Yaxley scowled at her and led her down the hall, the way she came. She wasn't sure what he had to scowl about. He was 65,000 Galleons richer. Not including whatever price Pansy fetched.

The image of Pansy piercing the belly of that guard floated up. His strangled yell as she bared her teeth at him.