I’m incredibly honored and grateful that all of you have gone on this journey with me. I never intended to write an epic-length dark fic. I just wanted two idiots to fall in love in 170k. And when I was done with that, I wanted it to happen again from a different POV. 160k later, y’all asked for more and I’m so glad that you did. (but don’t do that lol)

If you’re reading my work for the first time with The Auction, welcome. Thank you for getting this far. If you’ve been around for three and half years, thank you.

This series isn’t done. There are posted drabbles in the TRTTD/ATWT timeline titled All Right. And Birth Right is also still a WIP. I’ll be doing some work on my original fiction in the first few months of 2021, so check the end notes to follow me on Twitter, Instagram, and Tumblr if you're interested in updates on that, but then I have a Dramione You’ve Got Mail AU planned, as well as continuing my delightfully wicked Dom/sub Dramione Good.

I have so much pride in this fic, and I'm so grateful that I've gone down this dark and twisty road with two of the biggest badasses I know. Thank you raven-maiden and SaintDionysus for shaping this with me, and creating this MONSTER.

There's so much art, you all. SO. MUCH. ART. And I will be doing my best to link it all in the A/Ns. Thank you to the artists, especially NiktaJobson for her creativity and spot-on physicality and face casting.

Thank you to the hilarious communities that have been created for this fic, including the Lovesbitca8 channel in the Department of Fanfiction Discord server and the amazing Facebook Group Rights & Wrongs.

And thank you for reading.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Blaise Zabini's trial began on 26 July, a rainy and humid Monday. Hermione spent an hour Occluding in the tub before she dressed and Apparated to Edinburgh.

A crowd of reporters stood around the entrance to Parliament Hall, pacing like starving wolves. A sharp click cut through the quiet of her mind, and then she was flooded with flashing lights and harsh sounds.

"Miss Granger!"

"Miss Granger, over here!"

"Would you like to make a statement for the—"

Hermione pushed through, ignoring the flashes and heavy press of bodies on her. Sound disappeared with a hiss as she crossed the wards cast over the building. She checked in her wand and swept through the open lobbies, heading to the library.

The old doors groaned open to reveal Alan Shrapley leaning against a table in his expensive American robes, flipping through a Muggle volume. He was a handsome man in his early fifties, with a square jaw and silver hair that curled at the tips.

Upon meeting him for the first time two weeks ago, Hermione had thought he spoke too calmly and moved too slowly, but she realized she was wrong the moment he pulled out a lengthy contract that somehow had already been signed by Blaise Zabini. He'd produced paperwork for her to initiate a sealed transfer of an exorbitant sum to Blaise's vault, requested that his two legal assistants be admitted inside the Manor immediately, and instructed her to clear the rest of her day.