Chapter 2

Hermione stumbled and fell into a mouldy puddle. Rabastan swore and grabbed her by her hair, pulling her to her feet. Hermione tried to walk faster but felt a sharp pain in her knee with every step. When Rabastan stopped to push her through a small door she glanced down to see her bloody knee. Hermione winced as the door slammed behind her.

"Granger, come here," a soft voice said. Hermione looked around wildly, crouching slightly in a defensive stance. Narcissa Malfoy stepped out of the shadows, wand drawn, but pointed it at Hermione's knee rather than at her heart. Narcissa wordless healed her knee and beckoned her forward. Hermione was unsure whether to trust her or not and merely stayed stock still. Narcissa sighed, light a candle on the small table behind her and sat down on a rickety chair.

Hermione took in Narcissa's appearance; the faint candle light illuminated the premature lines on her face. Narcissa sighed and stared blankly at the flame. Hermione padded forward cautiously as Narcissa closed her eyes and a crystalline tear escaped. Hermione felt something that she hadn't felt in a long time, sympathy. Hermione slowly placed a small hand on Narcissa's shoulder; she could feel her stiffen then she cried harder and sat up sniffling. She withdrew a silk handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. Hermione smiled to herself at the thought that Narcissa could be in a slave trade auction house and still be refined.

Hermione felt a wave of despair wash over her. She withdrew her hand and sat down in the corner, reality seemed to crash down upon her. She wasn't Hermione Granger anymore, she was less than dirt. Comforting someone that was crying a little wasn't going to change Harry's death or the fact that she may be raped and beaten by her new master.

"How do you do it?" Hermione jumped as Narcissa looked at her incredulously. Hermione just looked down uncomfortably. Rabastan's voice thundered around the room, warning Narcissa that Hermione had two minutes before the bidding started. Hermione shrank further back as Rabastan's voice faded and Narcissa walked towards her, wand outstretched.

"I'm sorry," Narcissa said, more to herself than to Hermione, "I never wanted this. Supporting the Dark Lord seemed right; now look at what the world has been reduced to. Everyday girls come in; I fix them up so they sell. They're sold to drunk, sadistic, torturers. Muggle girls who don't understand what's happening are being raped and sold. Lucius is dead, Draco-" Narcissa broke off. She clenched her jaw and stared a Hermione, as though to stare through her. "He's changed; I don't know who he is anymore."

Hermione heard loud screams, a girl's, from above. Hermione wrapped her arms around herself and stared, terrified, at the ceiling. She heard the noise fade and wondered dimly if she knew the girl. Narcissa gripped Hermione's arms and pulled her to her feet. She cleaned most of the grime off Hermione's body and quickly transfigured her dirty underwear and bra into a clean, silver pair. She picked up the chain and led her to the center of the room. A hole opened in the ceiling and Hermione could hear Rabastan introducing the next item for sale. Narcissa placed a hand softly on Hermione's cheek; Hermione jerked her head slightly at the contact. Narcissa looked at her sadly before Hermione felt herself rise up and landed in the center of a dim spotlight.

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"Just tonight, I won't ask after tonight, promise," Blaise Zabini said calmly. He was sitting in leather, high backed chair. He was engaged in a wizarding chess game with his fellow Slytherin, Draco Malfoy. Blaise looked out the window of his Italian mansion. There were at least twenty women outside, basking in the sunshine, laughing, and running about. There were some girls as young as ten or twelve and some as old as twenty five. People laughed at him, called him perverted or congratulated him on having bought so many fine girls from Rabastan's whore show. No one knew the truth, why he bought so many girls. He bought them, not to beat them up, rape them or force them to clean, cook or act as a door mat; he bought them for his mother. His mother had been raped and brutally murdered by an uncontrolled bunch of Death Eaters. They had been punished cruelly by the Dark Lord for abusing a pure-blood but her death could not be undone. His mother had never been the most nurturing woman but she had taught him that respecting women was important; something his line of dead step-fathers should have taken into consideration.

Every month Blaise would put on his mask and descend one more into Rabastan's hellhole where sobbing, beaten, bloodied girls were paraded in front of him. He would buy as many as he could yet he was often out bid. Although he was rich, he was caring for nearly fifty women, paying their bills and still had to give heaps of galleons to the Dark Lord. He would spit and sneer at them when he came to claim them then apparate to his safe haven. His Italian mansion was under the Fidelius charm, Draco was secret keeper. The other girls would help clean the new ones up and once they were feeling better he would come and apologize. Blaise would never admit it, but he liked being the hero, he liked seeing the gratitude in their eyes. He had never tried to pursue any of them in a romantic way but to him they were family.

Blaise looked back to the chess board in time to see his rook smashed by Draco's queen. Blaise cleared his throat loudly and Draco looked up, gazing into his eyes blankly. "Mate, you've got to come. Rabastard is getting suspicious, he said he wanted to come and see how my whores were doing." Blaise screwed up his face in disgust and continued, "Just come in, and buy a girl for me. I need you to say to Rabastan that you have to replace one of mine. Say she wasn't doing something right and you killed her. He's thinking that I'm treating them too easily. I mean, Greyback comes every other month to get a replacement. Rabastan knows I'm capable of murder, his brother knows that all too well," Blaise looked darkly down at his hands. Rudolphous had come into his house and seen Blaise healing some muggle girls, he had Crucio'd nearly everyone until Blaise had attempted to stun him. Rudolphus had turned around outraged and he ripped up him sleeve. Blaise panicked, he was going to summon the Dark Lord. He had killed him quickly before Rudolphus' finger made it to his forearm.

"Draco, please, I can't let Rabastan get wary. If he gets suspicious, the Dark Lord will get suspicious," Blaise trailed off. Draco's face remained impassive as Blaise spoke again. "I have over fifty girls here, they'll all be killed. I promised them all that they would be safe here."

Draco looked into Blaise eyes and sighed. He closed his eyes wearily then spoke more to the chess pieces than Blaise, "fine." Blaise grinned but Draco continued. "You have to beat me at chess." Draco smiled as Blaise laughed. His smiled faded as Blaise moved his knight to checkmate Draco's king. Draco watched as the white knight smashed the dark king to rubble.

A/N: Do you all like the way Blaise is portrayed? Thought there needed to be a noble Slytherin.

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