"Magic is might," the crowd chorused.

Voldemort picked up his glass, and there was a shuffle as his audience did the same.

Bellatrix stood swiftly, her chair dragging against the stone. "To the Dark Lord's power!"

"May he reign forevermore."

Hermione drank her champagne down to the dregs as the Hall burst into deafening applause. Her ears were still ringing when it ended.

The feast appeared on the tables a second later. A clatter of serving spoons joined the chorus of conversation.

Ginny's face was white as she grabbed Avery's plate, filling it with pheasant and roast vegetables. A book in Hermione's mind trembled, falling open.

A happy day at the Burrow, her plate in her lap and her knees touching Ron's on the couch — Fred calling, "Oi, Gin! Get me a plate while you're up, will you?" — and a sharp retort from the kitchen: "Do I look like a house-elf?"

Hermione flinched, shoving the memory aside. She swiftly snatched up Draco's plate, reaching for the roast beef and parsnips, her hands dancing around Ginny's. When it was piled high, she set it in front of him and waited, twisting her fingers in her lap.

Silver scraped against china as the guests began eating. Draco paused on his third bite, tilting his chin in her direction. Hermione served herself a few spoonfuls. Ginny followed her lead.

A voice in the back of her mind told her to stay present. A louder one said it was too dangerous to leave her guard down across from the Dark Lord.

Hermione stared at her water glass, watching the ripples in the surface as glasses were lifted or fists pounded down. The echoes of movement lulled her back until a book closed on the Burrow.

Draco spoke to Theo on the opposite side of her. She kept a smile on her face as she grazed her fork across her plate. Ginny's glass filled again every time she took a sip.

Soft hands moved a fork and knife, attached to pale wrists encircled in diamonds.

Hermione chewed her potatoes.

All freckles on the girl were gone. Blue veins popped beneath her pale skin, her red curls wild and loose around her shoulders. A large hand curled around the back of the girl's chair.

Hermione set her fork down.

The hand threaded through the girl's ginger waves, twisting locks around its thick fingers.

Hermione tore her eyes from Ginny and Avery.

She ate her vegetables.

She nodded politely.

She smiled when men laughed.

Minutes or hours later, the plates were cleared, and the tapping of wands on glasses chorused through the room.

Draco turned in his chair, and Hermione followed.

A man in gold robes made his way down the line of tables, smiling broadly. Memories sparked — bags of gold, identical grins, an amplified voice calling out bets, a quick glance at her backstage—

Hermione tucked it all away, and watched as Ludo Bagman came towards the front. Even from here, his smile looked strained.