Fic: The Auction, Charlie/Hermione, Rated R, 2/4
Title: The Auction
Author: Gilly
Pairing/s: Charlie/Hermione
Rating: R
Warnings: Slavery, more to follow
AN: This was done in response to inell's auction challenge at booksfreckles.
Also, I should say now that this story is already completed, I just haven't
posted it all yet. There are 2 more parts after this one!
Chapter 2
Hermione Granger tried hard not to see or hear what was going on around her. It was atrocious, and though she was shaking inside at the thought of so many people seeing her in only what God gave her, she refused to show it on the outside. Her arms and legs ached from pulling at her chains all night, and her throat was on fire from the tight ring that had attached her to a leash like chain. She had screamed herself raw within just a few moments of being caught and chained.
The other girls had laughed at her, they knew what was to happen, they had been in her place before, back in the beginning. Each had their own terrifying story of being caught, and their first exam and subsequent auction. The only girl who hadn't been to an auction was a petite dark skinned girl who was probably only two or three years older than Hermione herself. Just like the other girls, she refused to say her name, as the guards would hex any who said their names. Names were something of the past, something they no longer could call their own.
Before the long hours were over with, Hermione had been examined so thoroughly that she had wondered if they could tell what she was thinking just by where they poked her. The ordeal was hard, but she knew it wasn't over with. It was only when she had been brought up to the stage, her wrists shackled to the girl in front of her, that the severity of the situation hit her. She was to be sold, and who ever bought her would do so because of who she had been so many years before.
Hermione had left the wizarding world behind nearly five years before, during the summer in between fifth and sixth year. The attacks on muggles and muggle born witches and wizards had increased with such fury, that the muggles had taken the stance of a serial killer on the loose. Muggles stayed locked in their homes at night, and refused to talk to strangers. Each night, someone new died. Towards the end of the summer, it was no longer one a night, but rather three or four families a night. The police had no leads, and couldn't even come up with a concrete answer as to just how they died.
With her parents in danger, Hermione left the wizarding world, and got them to America, hopefully to safety. They hadn't understood then just what sort of danger they were all in, not until the night before they left when they very narrowly escaped their own deaths. For two years, Hermione lay safe in America, and with help from Professor Dumbledore, the house was put under the strongest wards and unplottables imaginable. Professor Dumbledore appointed Remus Lupin as her secret keeper, and between them both, they spread around the news that Hermione Granger had left the wizarding world without telling anyone of her intentions or where abouts.
Her family lived in anonymity while Hermione learned to fight from as many books as she could get her hands on. She planned to leave her family safe at home when the war was winding up to end, but the end that came three years ago wasn't one that anyone had counted on. Lord Voldemort had triumphed over the European wizarding world, and the loss of lives was great. With the ability to rule over the witches and wizards, Lord Voldemort left the muggles alone for the most part.
Hermione knew that both Professor Dumbledore and Remus Lupin had lost their lives, and she knew that because the wards died with them. From there on, she and her family waited for their lives to be forfeited to the dark side. Their deaths didn't come, though, and after another two years, they began to think it wouldn't happen. But it had. Bellatrix LeStrange and Severus Snape came for them one night. It had been deceptively peaceful that day, the sun shining brightly, the flowers blooming, and the weather warm and pleasant.
They came just after dinner, Apperating into the middle of the living room, and before Hermione had a chance to draw her wand, both of her parents were dead. She ran, like a coward, she ran. Before they could get more than a single hex fired off towards her, Hermione had disappeared into thin air. From that moment on, Hermione lead a great chase across the United States, then on into Canada, before she started to make arrangements to cross into England. She knew it would be risky, there would be many people who could recognize her. The only thing she could hope for, is that they wouldn't expect her to show up in the midst of their domain.
It took another four months before she was caught, and it was from someone she thought she could trust to keep her safe, Oliver Wood. He apologized even as the guard came to take her to the slave auctions. Hermione didn't blame him, though, not really. She was wanted, while he managed to stay living a relatively quiet life simply by doing what was expected of all the citizens. She had seen and heard enough in her four months to know what happened to those who didn't obey the new laws.
So, here she was, standing in a chained line of girls waiting to be sold, and to know what their value would be this time around. Hermione didn't cower as some did, though. Oh, she made certain to show that they couldn't shame her, or scare her. No matter how scared she was inside, she refused to show them. If she showed them her fear, they would exploit it, and they would break her. But she was a Gryffindor, she knew deep down that she had he courage to look unaffected by the ordeal.
During her brief stay in captivity with the other girls, Hermione was scorned simply for her apparent value in being a virgin, as well as being able to keep her hair where the others had not. A lack of hair was a sign of submissiveness, or to show that a person was a slave. Some girls had short hair, though it was brittle, and cut awkwardly at the ends, but most of the girls had all of their hair removed. It appeared to be some sort of punishment, as well.
Hermione was jarred from her thoughts as Pansy Parkinson was unchained from Hermione, and dragged up front. Hermione felt a small amount of pity for the girl who had done nothing except antagonize Hermione both in school, and in the past few days. Pansy had apparently been enslaved almost 2 years back, and was looked at as some sort of leader among the slaves. She ruled over them in the small cell like chamber and didn't take kindly to being shown that Hermione would be worth at least double what she was, and she wasn't cheap herself.
All too soon, it was Hermione's turn, and she shrugged off the arms of the guard and walked herself up to the front with her chin thrust forward, and a steel resolve. She refused to look down at the people bidding on her, so instead, she focused her gaze on a tree in the back of the park, one with small white flowers growing on it. Hermione almost laughed at the irony of those flowers blooming in the face of such hatred. She tried to block out what they were saying about her, she really did, but the numbers were too loud, the cheering too wide spread, and the sounds quickly broke through her.
Even through that, she remained stiff, and refused to look at any of those bidding on her. She held her fear firmly in place, and waited for it to be over with, so she could await her fate. It was only when she heard his name that Hermione finally looked down, her eyes wide with the surprise she was unable to hide. He barely even looked at her, and for a moment, she had felt hope, before an ice cold numbness washed over her body at the thought of being owned by one of them.
Being quickly dragged from the stage, Hermione was shocked once more by the tattered robe thrown around her, followed by a long covering cloak. Hermione allowed her thoughts to drift towards Ron for the first time since being caught. She had learned shortly after arriving into the country that he, along with his only sister, and several brothers, had lost his life in the final battle. No one seemed to know what had happened to Harry, but the popular theory among the people was that he was alive and gathering an army. The guards and the more loyal citizens, however, insisted that Harry died in the confrontation, and that there was no hope for the people of Europe.
With precious few moments to regain her composure, Hermione was dragged along to a designated position, and a port key was thrust into her hands. With a jerk, she fell to the ground with closed eyes, and when she opened them, she was staring into the eyes of three different Weasley brothers. Blinking several times to clear her head, Hermione cringed back from them, as she had no idea just what to expect from them.
The brothers each exchanged a look before Bill and George stood and left the room. Charlie watched them for a moment, then looked at Hermione. He had yet to say anything to her, and it was unnerving at the very least. His mouth was drawn in a tight line, and his eyes were the only indication that he might not hate her as she was fearing. His voice, once he spoke, was quiet but firm.
"Stand up. I need to make sure of your health. Once we're done, Bill and George will bring you something to eat. You are hungry, aren't you?" He watched her closely as he spoke. Hermione listened and stood as she was asked. She couldn't quiet contain her jitteriness, however, and she was shaking as he raised a wand to point towards her.
Her eyes closed tightly as she waited for the invasive examination like the one she had withstood at the auction house, but it never came. Instead, she felt a hand on her chin, and it was gentle. A moment later, she felt the warm sensation of a healing spell as it soothed over her neck, and down her arms and legs. She opened her eyes to look at him again, and saw that his face had softened. He wasn't smiling, but his face didn't look so unapproachable anymore, either.
"Are you hungry? It's been our experience that the girls are fed barely enough to make up a meal, let alone a whole days worth of food." Charlie waited for her answer as he studied her face, and after a tense moment, she finally nodded slightly. He nodded once, and finally gave her an encouraging smile. "Hermione, you have no need to be scared of me. I promise you, we won't hurt you."
Maybe it was the promise, or perhaps the use of her name, or even the smile he gave her, but Hermione finally felt safe for the first time since that day almost a year ago when her parents had been killed. She no longer worried that she might die at the hands of her best friends brother. The effect on her was instantaneous, and she found herself wrapped in his arms as her sobs broke free of the tight reign she had kept on them for so long.
His quiet murmuring in her ear, and the hand that soothed over her hair helped to calm her some, but the high emotions she had felt over the past few days still held her tight in their grasp still. Finally, she calmed down, and rested securely in his embrace. She heard as his brothers entered the room, but no one said anything, and she was loath to remove herself from Charlie's warm arms.