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"Anyways, the man's a bloody cunt. I wish I never met him, lecherous sod. And he thinks I'm a waste of space. The audacity." Rosaline grumbled about her husband. Lily sat with a familiar face she knew wouldn't harm her. For the last hour, Rosaline had been ranting about her husband Mulciber and his lurid affairs. "What do you think about Astrid?" Rosaline whispered.

"I don't know." Lily muttered, glaring at Severus from across the garden. "She's small."

"Poor thing, imagine having Rabastan Lestrange for a husband." Rosaline pointed to them on the dance floor. "Sure, he's handsome, but what else? Astrid and I should have switched partners. I would be a better wife to Rabastan, I could give him worthy heirs."

Lily couldn't help but stare at Rosaline in disbelief. Who was this woman and where did she fit in all this? "How did you end up here, Rosaline?"

"You haven't figured it out yet?" Rosaline smirked. "I'm a filthy halfblood."

"You're halfblood?" Lily repeated. Supposedly half the rumors about Rosaline were true.

The young woman grimly nodded. "Mum was a witch, dad was a muggle. My dad died before I was born, and my mother remarried a blood-traitor. When the Death Eaters came knocking, well, I guess I was just what they were looking for, at least for Mulciber. I suppose he fancied me enough to keep me as a married slave."

"You're also a breeder?"

Rosaline let out a disgusted snort. "Like you? We aren't the same."

Lily gapped. "Excuse me?"

"We aren't the same." Rosaline repeated, turning to face Lily. "I was chosen and married off because of my blood status. You were supposed to be a servant and nothing else. Look around you! How many of your mudblood friends do you see here?" Rosaline had a point. Through the crowd, Lily didn't recognize any faces she encountered as a servant. "You've got them all bloody obsessed with you."

"What happened to them?" She felt scared. How could she be the only one?

"They're all locked up … somewhere around here. I mean, it's probably better than scrubbing toilets." Rosaline stopped and lowered her face. "Good evening, sir."

Evan Rosier had approached the table, casting a shadow over them. "A pleasant evening to you … both." He kept his gaze fixed on Lily. "Might I offer a dance to Miss Evans?"

Lily scrunched her nose. "Erm …."

"May I remind you, it's very impolite to refuse a request from your superiors." Rosier whispered dangerously. Lily didn't see any other option. Unwillingly, she got up from her chair and coldly took Rosier's hand. "That's more like it." He hissed. Once they approached the floor, he placed his hands on the small of her back and pulled her in closer than she would prefer. Initially, Rosier stumbled, expecting to lead the dance. Lily was quick on her feet. "You've danced before, Miss Evans?"

"Yes." Lily snapped. She quickly changed her tone to be less aggressive, in case he felt her displeasure offensive. He was the one armed with the wand and surrounded by bloodthirsty comrades that took immense pleasure in her suffering. "Yes. I took lessons as a girl."

"You're very … cultured for a mudblood, Miss Evans."

"Erm … thanks." Lily wasn't paying much attention to Rosier. She scanned the bustling guests. Once again, she couldn't find any muggleborns she knew. Was Rosaline right? Were the muggleborn servants locked up under the castle? Or were they locked up in their master's bedroom? She found Rosaline and Mulciber on the dance floor. Rather Mulciber was drunkenly swaying and swinging his wife around, not unlike a dog and its chew-toy. Her eyes spotted the table where she left Severus. It was empty. Where did he go?

"Is something the matter, Miss Evans?" Rosier whispered into her ear.

"Nothing." She bent her neck away from his lips.

"Looking for … someone?"

"In a way." Lily retorted.

"Did Severus leave you all alone again?" Rosier feigned disappointment and sighed. "It is truly a shame the way people treat nice things. Miss Evans, you must be careful around him."

She caught off-guard by his comment. "Why is that?" The song ended. Relieved to be free from Rosier's arms, Lily started to move away from him. Rosier grabbed her elbow before she went any further.

"Miss Evans. Another dance." His eyes narrowed wickedly. "I insist."

"Dance with some other woman. I'm getting a drink." She wrenched her elbow out of his grip. She stormed to an empty table and sat down. Rosier followed and sat across from her, much to her disdain. Why wouldn't he leave her alone? "What do you want?" Lily glowered, careful none of the other Death Eaters would overhear. "Ever since I got here, you've been nothing but a pain. What is it?"

Rosier ignored her question. He flicked his wand. A bottle of champagne floated over to the table and poured two glasses. Rosier tentatively held the glasses, looking Lily up and down. "I don't know if you should be drinking."

Lily blinked. "I'm sorry, what?"

Rosier's eyes flickered. "Oh … nothing. I won't tell a soul." He handed over her glass. "I won't tell him, if that's what you're … worried about."

"I don't give a rat's ass." She swallowed the champagne in one gulp and braced the bottle with shaky hands to pour herself another drink, unaware of Rosier's devious leer.

Severus glared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He had stopped drinking over an hour ago, but his choices had caught up with him. He barely made it to the bathroom to vomit up everything. What the fucking hell is wrong with you? Severus washed his hands again and again, almost hoping to wash off his embarrassment. She hates you. If she didn't hate you before, she certainly hates you now. What's wrong with you? Saying those things to her? She deserves better than you. She hates you. But it wasn't too late for him to keep his promise.

Severus stepped back into the garden. The moon was already out with a sliver of orange lingering on the horizon. The orchestra was playing upbeat and lively music, and the guests were drunkenly dancing along. Many of the older guests had left, leaving the younger ones up to their revelry. But where was Lily?

Someone clapped him on the back, almost knocking him down. "Oh, what I would give to be a young man again!" It was Mr. Clyde Wayside, the Ministry treasurer, disheveled with bright pink cheeks, swinging around a glass of whiskey.

"Enjoying you evening, sir?" Severus tensed up, not at all enjoying the wizard clinging on to his shoulders. Even on a crisp autumn evening, the treasurer was soaked in his own sweat as if it were a summer afternoon. He smelled horrid. Severus tried to wriggle his way out, but the man held on tight.

"You … you all grow up too soon!" Mr. Wayside fumbled around his suit pockets before pulling out a thick, sweat-shriveled cigar. "Barely out of school, and already married and starting a family! Good man! Still a young boy, but a good, strong man!"

"Good evening, sirs," a meek voice peeped. Severus recognized her as the witch Lily frequently chattered with. Rosaline.

Mr. Wayside forgot all about Severus and turned his attention to Rosaline. "Such a beautiful young face! Oh, where have my years gone?"

"Where have they gone, indeed?" Rosaline gently guided the treasurer to a table for him to sit down and catch his breath. She poured him a steaming hot cup of coffee, taking away the glass of whiskey.

"Have you seen her?" Severus muttered to her, begrudgingly thankful for her interruption.

"I thought you were watching her!" She muttered. "You didn't see?"

"See what?"

"Look for your friend, Evan Rosier. Got her all liquored up before taking her back inside. Poor thing." Rosaline stated plainly.

"Where?" Severus failed to hide the anger in his voice.

Rosaline quickly poured out Mr. Wayside's whiskey onto the grass before he would notice. She looked Severus in the eye and spoke slowly. "Rosier danced with her, and I'm certain he still wants to dance with her. If you want to dance with her, you should find her. Before the night ends. Now."

"Yes!" The treasurer burst, knocking over the cup of coffee on the table. "Yes, the night is still young! Where's your courage, boy? Dance with all the beautiful women!"

Rosaline rushed to clean up the mess with the cloth napkins. Severus ignored her code and repeated his question. "Where. Is. He?"

She glared at him threateningly. "Inside, idiot halfblood." She hissed below a whisper. "Before the night ends. Go!"

Severus wrestled with his thoughts, but he decided against it. Halfblood? How did she know? What else did she know about him? Did Lily tell her? He was already on his way back into the castle towards Rosier's quarters. Whatever Lily did or didn't say, it didn't matter. Where was she?

Evan Rosier's room was certainly nicer than the drafty tower Lily shared with Severus. It had its own bathroom that Rosier was currently occupying to freshen up. Lily hitched up her dress and blankly stumbled around the room until she bumped into a mirror. A flushed, blurry face with unfocused eyes dazed back at her. How many glasses of champagne did she drink throughout the night? No wonder Sev is always like this. What was I looking for…? Lily ran her hands over the bedroom surfaces, picking up anything that could possibly be a wand. She knew better than to try escaping through the windows. She jiggled the bedroom doorknob. Of course. Locked.

Inside the bathroom, Lily heard the faucet shut off. Rosier would be out of the bathroom any second. Lily knew damn well what would happen to her. Thinking quick, she did what she knew best. Hide. Lily climbed into the wardrobe.

The bathroom door creaked open. Lily held her breath; she could hear Rosier's steps. "Hm. In the mood for games, mudblood?" He quipped. "Going through my shit, have you…? Fucking HELL!"

The bedroom door blasted open, causing Lily to fall out of the wardrobe and onto the floor. "Hey, Sev." She burped before she hunched over and puked all over the floor.