A whispered spell. His wand at the corner of her mouth, sewing the skin back together from where his ring had split her lip.

She calmed her thundering heart, waiting for his hand to drop from her jaw. Instead he said, "Were you relieved when you learned you were coming here? Is that what it was? Do you think of me as the lesser of two evils?"

She searched his eyes, wondering which memories and thoughts Voldemort shuffled through if Draco was this intent on finding out.

"No, not really," she answered truthfully, remembering the long walk down these hedges just a few nights ago. "I thought I might be a gift for your father."

His hand twitched against her face, like he'd been electrified. It dropped, hanging down by his side.

"Then what was it? Tell me what he found." He swallowed as the wind slashed across them.

There was something Draco Malfoy wanted that she could refuse to give. The small shift in power buzzed through her.

She slipped away from him, moving toward the Manor, and tossed over her shoulder, "Anticipation is the sweetest torture, isn't it?"

Marching away down the stone path, shivering in her négligée, she almost smiled.

Chapter End Notes

Updates on Sundays.

Facebook group for Auction followers and the Rights and Wrongs series called Rights & Wrongs

Pinterest board for The Auction here .

Find me on Tumblr and Twitter .

Chapter 9

Chapter Notes

I have been completely awful at responding to comments, but just know that I appreciate every single one of them. Thank you for taking the time to comment and tell me how you feel.

Much love to SaintDionysus and raven_maiden for beating the Austen out of this chapter for me. There's still a bit in there, I think. :)

See the end of the chapter for more notes

So, George was on the run.

It must have been during the Auction itself. He was onstage with Ludo when the girls began to fight. At least they'd won something during that moment.

She sat in her wingback chair, watching the sun rise through her windows. It was her third morning in Malfoy Manor, though she hadn't slept the night before, content to stare at the walls while her brain mended itself.

Several times she thought she should call for an elf to grab her a potion, but the headache kept her focused. She wouldn't be complacent in whatever they'd planned for her.

Her cheek throbbed, a bluish bruise blossoming over her the corner of her mouth where she'd bled. She could have sworn she'd felt the outline of a gemstone against her cheek last night, but it was nowhere to be found this morning. Perhaps he'd only struck her face to save his own. Surely one of them needed to be punished for her smart mouth. She pressed her lips together, hardening to the memory of his healing hands at the gates last night.

If he thought Hermione Granger was going to go quietly, she had a surprise for him.