Early birds were chirping greeting the first rays of the morning dawn. Hermione panted, but she didn't want to give in. When she had come to the Burrow during the night everyone had slept soundly. Ron had continued to snore, and she had felt so beside herself that she had decided to go on a very early morning run to clear her head. Ron couldn't understand why she needed to run each day. But she knew that it was just the flight mode that she had never been able to overcome after a year on the run. Her entire body was till tingling from the whole process that her current boss had put her through. Her hair had been washed several times, each time with some different concoction. Her legs, arms, armpits and her most private parts had been treated with special "magical" sugaring pastes and salves which would inhibit any hair growth in that area. She still had no idea how that technically worked but the sensation of dozens of small long hands of house elves on her body still creeped her out.
…
With her still wet hair she followed her boss further downstairs to yet another dark level. Seriously, this house seemed to consist of narrow stairways winding up and down. She felt strangely beside herself. Her stubborn hair was now soft and curly. They had even cut it and applied further potions, shampoos, countless conditioners or whatever. She had lost track of it after the what felt like the thirtieth application.
Her boss stopped before a large dark marble block of stone in the middle of a circular room. Hermione could faintly hear water splashing nearby, some grunts and moaning could also be detected dimly.
"So, I guess we are somewhere near the pool area with another coupling couple?" Hermione stated dryly.
"You guessed. Correctly." Madame. Adler nodded." Good at deduction, I see." She was mocking her. She had to be.
Hermione threw her an annoyed look. "No, I can hear them… barely. Does that one have a heart deficiency? He sounds like breathless dying pig."
Surprise was hushing over her boss's face. "I don't hear anything. Do you?" She addressed the house elves, who just seemed to be as surprised as her. But they were house elves, so they probably weren't used to contradicting their owner and Hermione still had problems getting a read of her. Madame Adler. She seemed to be a chameleon of facial expressions.
"I'm going to check on the silencing spells, Mistress." One of the elderly elves piped up and disappeared only to reappear two heartbeats later.
"The silencing spells are as strong as before, but Ms. Granger is correct. The client does experience difficulties."
"Well, that is certainly a surprise." She mustered Hermione with further calculation. "Good hearing as well. Observe the situation and if it turns dangerous you are allowed to intervene." The house elf nodded again and disappeared.
"Now, please remove your clothes." She turned back to Hermione and her pleasant demeanour disappearing.
"What!" Hermione jumped crossing her arms protectively in front of her chest.
There that creepy smile returned on her boss's face. "There is no need to be so chaste. We need to make sure that you are healthy and prepare your body is further for your introduction. Peeling, and we also need to make sure that there is no additional hair, where it isn't fashionable." She told her.
"I thought that hairlessness was an American thing?" Hermione stated wryly. "You know Hollywood standard etc…"
"I've no idea what in Merlin's name you are talking about. It's a centuries old tradition of our house that virgins are presented as clean and soft as possible. And that means no pubic hair, no hair in the armpits, on the legs, or arms. The only hair we want to see is on your head. Our clients want to have something to grab after all when they come." She winked conspiratorially. "Now, please remove your clothes and lie backwards onto the block." She patted the little platform.
"Sure, nothing creepy about lying down naked onto a large altar-like block. Doesn't seem like I'm prepared to be slaughtered at all." Hermione murmured, her neck hair straightening. "And I haven't seen a written contract yet."
The elder woman bit her lips obviously trying to bite back amusement. She took a deep breath. "There won't be any slaughter in this house Ms. Granger." She stepped closer to Hermione, who reluctantly slipped out of her shoes and hesitated. "The contract comes after I've made sure that you are completely healthy and not a threat to my clients."
"Do I get the same stipulations from them? I don't want to catch anything nasty." She shot back.
"Yes. They are all tested beforehand. All of them." Madame Adler nodded.
"No, I man not just when they are inducted in this establishment. I mean regularly." Hermione insisted slipping out of her trousers.
"Yes, they are." She confirmed. "They also know that if they frequent another establishment, that they will lose their membership to this one. It's part of their magical contract." She stepped closer to Hermione and scoffed when she detected Hermione's bra after she slid out of her.
"I have never seen a bra that's less erotic. A muggle version, I presume. Revolting." She shook her head and Hermione gritted her teeth to prevent her from saying something very inappropriate. After took a deep breath and counted to ten. Then she felt surer that she could answer more nicely.
"Well, this one isn't for seduction. It's practical." She explained folding her trousers and her blouse carefully. She didn't want to look dishevelled when she returned back to the Burrow later.
"Practical?" Madame Adler touched the straps experimentally and shook her head. "There is nothing practical about it. It does nothing to enhance your chest."
Hemione sighed and rolled her eyes. "It's a sports bra. More specifically one for extreme demands like running. It needs to be durable and strong. I prefer these kinds of bras."
The other woman scoffed again taking Hermione's folded clothes and put them on the counter. Now the rest.
Hesitantly Hermione put her hands behind and unclasped her bra. She gulped. The Madam was not letting her out of her sight. That was uncomfortable. With her left hand she covered her now bare chest shily. She and the other woman were the only two in the room, but she wouldn't put it past her that there were other voyeurs somewhere hidden behind some peephole.
After a moment she reluctantly jumped backwards onto the cold hard block, which felt surprisingly smooth under her skin and lied down onto it. Her heart started to race. This felt so wrong and her mind conjured horrific mental pictures of ritualistic sacrifices that unsettled her even more. She covered her chest with her right arm and her private parts with her left arm while Madame Adler circled her predatorily.
"How quaint. Trying to cover your best parts. Trust me, you'll learn to be less shy." She tittered continuing the creepy circling. Hermione could feel that she was getting Goosebumps. "Athletic. What is your work out routine?" Hermione tilted her head to better see her as she stopped at the edge of her periphery.
"Nothing special. I run each morning about five kilometres, more if I feel up to it, three-minute planks and a few other strengthening exercises." She shrugged.
"A few?" she heard the other say. "I don't think so. A few is what highborn purebloods are doing, just to barely stay in shape. You are a bit too defined for that. But our clients will love a firm body like yours."
Hermione gulped. That sounded as if they wanted to keep her longer than just for that one night. She swore that she would read the contract diligently before signing.
She jumped when the Madam grabbed her hands and put them to her sides. "It's only us plus a handful of house elves in here. And you have nothing to be ashamed of."
She told her. Hermione fought the strong urge to cover herself but observed the elder lady as she brushed alongside her lower arms as if searching for something.
"What are you looking for?" she asked and was glad that her voice didn't portray her nervousness as she clenched her legs together. She jumped and shrieked when she suddenly felt freezing cold, tiny hands on her lower legs applying something. Her gaze dropped in that direction and her heart slumped. Four or five house-elves were busy applying a green paste onto her legs and working themselves upwards her body. It felt eerily disturbing and she wished to be anywhere but here.
A sharp pain suddenly erupted from her left index finger, which extended along her ulna. Her heart accelerated as if it was about to jump out of her chest. Cold shiver was running down her spine.
There was a small wound on her index finger which was already closing itself. "What the hell did you just do?" Hermione growled angrily and the house-elves stopped startled.
That vile woman had just drawn blood from her! She could still see the pipette in her hand. "Why did you draw my blood?" Hermione enquired sitting up.
"I told you that I need to know if you are completely healthy. Therefore, I will need a full CBC." Madam Adler told her entirely unfazed.
"You should have asked me first!" Hermione countered with blazing eyes. She would have never agreed to this. After all, blood could be used for all sorts of dark spells and rituals. She still had the horrid book from the hunt for the horcruxes and blood was a vital component for all these awful rituals, spells and potions.
"You don't need to worry, Ms. Granger. Full CBC is the only thing I will do with this." Her voice was lowered as if she was trying to calm her.
"Will you repeat that statement under Veritaserum?" Hermione enquired still unsure and angry.
"If you bring the Veritaserum tomorrow, then I will repeat that statement after taking it." she suggested pulling Hermione back down onto the block, so that the elves could resume their work.
"Well, you can count on that, Madam Adler." Hermione rebuffed thinking about her potions stock.
"We also need to think about a name for you. An alias as you prefer to stay anonymous." she stated circling the still very uncomfortable Hermione.
"How about μαύρη χήρα (=mávri chíra)" Hermione suggested smugly staring at the ceiling. She was mortified when the house elves reached her private parts.
"Old Greek for 'Black widow'?"the lady of the house shook her head. "Even though most of out clients are unable to understand the reference, I also do not want to have any slaughter from your side in this house. Nome nest omen, Ms. Granger. This name isn't acceptable. Pick another."
"How about… Thea Athena (Goddess Athena)?" she suggested and this time, her boss nodded after some contemplation.
"An interesting choice. Sophisticated. Normally, my girls choose their names after some minor fertility goddess or nymph. But I can see why you choose this name as your alias. In that case I will commission a few owl masks.
"A few?" Hermione asked. "Isn't one enough?"
"Now, definitely. Not. Certain jobs require certain masks. And some masks are not suitable enough to show how pleasurable you find the coupling. Your mask during the introduction and the prima nocte ceremony will be the same which will hide most of your pretty face. For further coupling the mask will be lighter and show more of your face while hiding your features.
"Why would I need more masks?" Hermione enquired her suspicion growing. They wanted to trick her to do more.
"Well, that depends on how well your auction goes. If you manage to get enough money for your entire schooling at Hogwarts, then you won't need more masks, but I will commission several, just to be sure."
Hermione gritted her teeth. Yep, they were screwing her over big time. But she had no other possibility to get money and her godfather was currently unavailable for some reason. He would have certainly helped her out of this.
"Here drink this."
"What's that?" Hermione enquired suspiciously. Snape had always told them to never drink anything that they didn't know. And she could not place this potion. What if this was some sort of enslaving potion? She certainly wouldn't put it past the lady of the house.
"It's an anti-hair growth potion, that targets your body hair, but not your hair on your head." She was told.
"But, how is that possible?" Hermione enquired not touching it. "The hair growth of my scalp and my body come from the same source."
"You are a witch Ms. Granger. What you said might be correct for muggles, but this potion can target the components that we want, as the magical spells are priming the potion's components. So, in combination with the outward treatment this will hinder the hair growth. Repeat this monthly for a year and you won't have to worry about this anymore."
Hermione stopped and walked on trying to catch her breath with her hands on her hips. Her skin was tingling. When had the sun risen? She must have been too preoccupied to realize her surroundings. Moody would have severely chastised her for that. Constant vigilance! This could have been a fatal mistake during their hunt for the horcruxes. How long had she been jogging? Hermione swore loudly. She had forgotten her wristwatch in the Burrow. She walked on, her hands on her hips taking in her surroundings. Wait a minute. She narrowed her eyes. It was definitely familiar. The landscape, the trees in the fields, the centuries old stone fences. When had she apparated?! There was no way that she had run that far in just a couple of hours. She should probably return to the Burrow. Mrs. Weasley would worry about her. But,… she was here already. She just had go up that hill and turn left to the small forest. After all, she was here already. She couldn't just leave without paying her respects. She sighed as she reluctantly trotted up the hill. They would be so disappointed in her but luckily they would never find out about her questionable live choices.
The young witch was a bit of a mystery. And she loved mysteries. Her clients did as well, but if she could perhaps detect some famous name in her ancestry, that would give her the opportunity to raise the price even further. Well, one or two names were already promising, but nothing for wizarding standards.
"Did you find anything interesting, Irene?" Lucius enquired stepping into her office. He was curious. Vetting her credentials and her past was something that was standard procedure for such a valuable auction. After all the clients had exquisite tastes. Only that he had no intention of letting her get to anyone else.
"Your little prize is full of mysteries." She smirked. "We could trace her mother's ancestry pretty well. Her grandfather on her mother's side comes from an old wizarding line that died out due to the birth of Squibs. An old line like that must have a sealed vault in Gringotts. So, she can never find out about that or we'll lose our prize. Her grandmother's ancestry, however, is all over the place. The census records show that she was born in Málaga, Spain, but she has ancestors from all over Europe, Northern Africa and the Middle East."
"Well, considering Spain's eventful history I'd say that is not surprising." Lucius smirked. "Can she speak Spanish? My son was convinced that he heard her speak Spanish with an old lady in Diagon Alley once."
She quickly made a note to enquire about that. It would certainly increase the pool of contestants if she was actually able to speak a foreign language. "I shall find out. Probably her grandmother."
"Granger's parents were… what was the word…Zabini used: Dentists?" Lucius enquired with a slight snear.
"That's correct." she answered hesitantly. "Well, they both were dentists, but my little minions in the Muggle police force told me that they also found Military service records. Both her parents did serve for some time. Their clients were mostly from the military."
"It certainly explains why Granger felt so compelled to fight together with Potter. Both her parents served, and this was her way of serving the greater good. How noble of her"
"Then what is so mysterious about Granger?" Lucius enquired.
"Her father's ancestry." Irene shrugged. "We were unable to find any trace of his origins. His last name isn't even Granger. He took his wife's last name. That alone is more than unusual. He doesn't show up in any census lists. It's as if he just appeared out of nowhere."
"Could he have worked for the Muggle spooks?" Lucius asked intrigued.
"It is certainly a possibility, but even then, there would be some trace of his origins." It almost seems that he appeared out of nowhere. His grades and A-levels must have been good enough to get him into med school and into the service, but apart from that. There is nothing. Muggles are usually leaving trails after trails, but not him."
"Could you get a hold of his service records? Perhaps we could find something about that there?" Lucius wanted to get at the bottom of this.
"I tried, Lucius, but I have nobody that high up." My contact in the police force hit a brick wall. Especially, as they simply vanished shortly before Granger disappeared with Potter and Weasley. Apparently, the government doesn't take it lightly when two of their reserve pilots disappear just like that. Both her parents where in the reserve after active service."
"Pilots? I thought you said they were dentists?" Lucius asked. He knew what planes are and for some reason he also knew what pilots are.
"Yes. They used to be pilots and medics in the fleets air arms, but they switched to the reserve sometime around Ms. Granger's birth. As their address stayed the same. So, they must have still been useful. Granger grew up surrounded by military personal."
"Interesting." "Well, Granger obviously wasn't able to find them again otherwise she wouldn't need the generous help of our establishment. So, her spell was probably too well?"
Irene sobered. "My contact in the ministry informed me that she sent them to Australia using the names Wilkins. But for some reason they never made it there. The poor girl wanted to protect them, and they just vanished. I feel almost sorry for her."
"Are her grandparents still alive?" Lucius asked and received a grin. "None of her mother's side. They died within three weeks of each other about two years ago. Couldn't live without the other. And as for her father's side, I have no idea. Couldn't find any evidence for that."
He casually leaned back. "That means she has no one."
"Well, she still has the Weasley's and Potter." he was reminded, and he scoffed.
"The Weasley's are paupers and her current boyfriend will soon grow tired of her when she continues to reject his advances. He is a bit too brash after all. Alienating her from them shouldn't be that hard."
"And why would you want that. You are going to buy her virginity and her prima nocte, but she will need a life after that." Irene reminded him. "She isn't like our other girls. Her conscience already weighs heavily on her."
"I don't care about her conscience. The auction and her prima nocte will not cover the expenses for her stay at Hogwarts. We can make more money with her, but for that she needs to be alienated from her friends. If she has nobody, she will be forced to stay in this arrangement for quite some time."
"Don't get ahead of yourself. She is like an old spinster. Completely uncomfortable shedding her clothes, analyses everything from a meta-perspective and comments sarcastically on it and has a complete disregard for her femininity. She has no sense of style or eloquence. Well, she could be eloquent, but chooses not to be. Instead she is feisty. She dresses practically and always ready to fight. It seems that Alastor Moody's teachings seeped in a bit too deep into her mind. I can train and prepare her only so far in that short amount of time. The rest is up to her. So, I can't guarantee that she will perform at her best."
"Even if she doesn't perform at her best the first time. We can train her afterwards. I certainly would look forward to teaching her a few lessons." He suggested.
"I'm sure you would, but there is something explosive lurking in her. Never in my long life have I seen eyes like that." Irene mused.
"Long-life? You don't seem that old to me." Lucius complimented her but she only rolled her eyes.
"You know that looks can be deceiving. She may seem docile, but her eyes are betraying her. I'd advise you to not push her too far."
"But I'm looking forward to bring that fire out of her." He answered huskily.
"That fire will burn you eventually, Lucius." She warned again, but he shook his head.
"She is a Muggle-born and therefore no danger."
"We don't know that. As I tried to explain earlier. We don't know anything about her father's line. And when I drew blood during preparation for the sacrifice it healed instantly within a minute."
Lucius frowned. "Then her haemoglobin is strong and closed the small wound."
"No, Lucius. You don't understand. There is no wound. It healed entirely. I don't know any human or wizard alike, who manages that."
"What colour does her blood have?" Lucius wanted to know. After all she was a Muggleborn and the Mudblood myth had to come from somewhere. Irene put a small ampule on the desk.
"As you can see, it is beautifully red. St. Mungo's checked the other sample and found no antibodies of any kind. She is completely healthy. Blood type is 0 negative."
He nodded clearly pleased with the information. "So, she is a universal donor. Our nocturnal clients will certainly love that.
"I wouldn't be so sure about that. Hold it against the light." She advised him leaning back crossing her arms.
Lucius frowned and grabbed the sample holding it up towards the light. "Do my eyes deceive me or does it have a light blue shimmer like this."
"Yes, indeed it does. My vampire friend in the in St. Mungos told me that he is on the fence about the smell. On the one hand it smells deliciously fresh. 'With the promise of bringing him back to life'. She used air quotes. "But on the other hand, her smell apparently promises his' immediate demise' as well". He won't take part in the auction. None of his kind will.
"Veelas and Vampires are fast healers." Lucius mused but his counterpart shook her head.
"Neither of their blood shimmers blue. She isn't a Veela and definitely not a vampire as she is alive."
"Werewolf?" Lucius straightened. If that was the case, somebody else could have the honour but Irene shook her head again. "Negative."
"What about her scar on her arm. My late sister in law did have fun marking her as a mudblood."
"I checked for it and almost missed it. It's barely visible. Just a very thin white line shows remnants of a previous injury. Curiously enough that fine white line spelling the word mudblood, is the only indication of a scar."
"That's impossible. She was injured almost each year. There have to be other scars." Lucius shook his head. "After all Draco had been very specific in his descriptions and as school governor, he had seen more than enough evidence for that. And he knew how badly injured she had been during their fight in the Ministry."
"There are none."
"She is quite good at performing magic. Could she be glamouring them?" he enquired but the dame of the house shook her head again. "No glamour. The house elves would have detected that."
"Now that is a mystery worth solving." He smirked.
"You will be unable to harm her with any wand or other weapon, Lucius. It's in the contract. Even you have to adhere to it. I'm protecting my girls from such dark thoughts after all."
"I never intended to harm her." He defended himself. "Just let her pay a bit for what she has done."
"And what exactly is that?" Irene narrowed her eyes at him. "She is responsible that your family wasn't put in Azkaban. Her testimony was fair. If I were her, I'd put you in Azkaban. Do I have to remind you of all the slander your son and his Slytherin's performed during her fourth year? The injuries she had to endure during her fifth year. And the torture she was subjected to in your manor? And yet, she chose to be fair during your family's trial. That alone shows her high moral compass. So, in a way it is you who should treat her just as fairly, Lucius.
"Now, that is interesting. How long have you been watching her?" he rebuked.
"Long enough. Muggle-borns are easy prey for us. You know that." She answered.
She panted as she finally reached the top of the hill and saw the tiny village in front of her. The familiar airfield was just down-hill to the north. She passed by familiar buildings and hovered shortly before the familiar house that was now in the possession of another family. A few blocks down she finally spotted the familiar churchyard and hesitantly walked through the dark ornamented gate. The gravel underneath her feet crunched as she meandered through the gravestones. A fresh cool breeze was breezing through the leaves, birds where chirping and… there was singing coming from inside the church. At that hour this could only mean that it was actually Sunday. She quickly put her hood up and found what she was looking for. Her grandparent's graves. Her heart broke. The grave had an air of abandonment. Weed was growing out from the edges of the tombstone. Brown earthly dust mixed with brown rotting leaves and moss was covering the memorial slab. Hermione sighed heavily and turned, checking if anyone had already left the mass early, but the singing told her that she was alone in the yard. She quickly took out her wand and uttered "Scourgify" and watched how the grime and dust slowly evaporate to leave clean granite behind. The weed was next to go, but for that she used her hands and made sure to put protective spells around the grave, that no weed would be able to make a reappearance. She then checked the wreath, but even though it had been created with evergreens, they had long withered and turned brown and red. It was dead. Hermione put it aside. The singing inside the church had stopped and she could detect the first conversations of the pious churchgoers leaving the small country-side church. As much as she wanted to conjure a wreath for her grandparents, it was way too risky at the moment. She had to come back. She was crouched next to their graves and hoped that they wouldn't be able to see her. Fate was not so kind as she could hear one pair of feet coming closer to her.
"It's been a long time since I saw someone visiting the Granger's grave." The voice said and Hermione grit her teeth. Great the minister of this parish had to be the one to confront her. She couldn't stand that man. Had to do something that she had openly questioned his sermon years ago, which he had not taken lightly.
"That tends to happen when the family is further decimated." Hermione answered sourly, stood up and turned around.
"Hermione! Little Hermione Granger." He exclaimed smiling at her, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Mr. Collins." She greeted him with tight lips.
"From your attire I suspect you didn't come for my sermon." He stated.
"Well, I don't want to be struck down by lightening entering your church." Hermione stated defiantly. "And the holy water is definitely a huge turn off. Could burn me alive."
He burst into laughter. This time it was genuine.
"That would certainly interesting to see." He laughed. "Your grandmother had the same dry wit."
"Nice to hear that I have at least something in common with her." Hermione huffed.
"Oh, she was confident that you'd follow your family's trade." He nodded. "You have more in common with her than you think."
"You don't know me, Mr. Collins." Hermione didn't like how he was staring at her. "You have no idea how much I could have in common with my abuela."
"She questioned my sermons just as much as you did and caused people in the entire parish to question them and our church." He sighed. "Wasn't exactly easy to get them to calm down."
"Well, she had the advantage of growing up in Catholic Spain and hearing the Anglican Version of your faith later when she was married to my grandpa. Must have helped her seeing how much irregularities and contradictions are taught in church."
"Well, people must believe in something. It gives them guidance in life. You, my dear, look quite lost. Believing in something could help you as well."
Hermione shuddered at that thought. "I don't need guidance from a centuries old fraud. Look, Mr. Collins. I don't want to start any ugly discussion about faith with you. All I wanted was to pay my respects to my grandparents. After all I was close-by." Hermione wanted to end the conversation and tried to step past him, but he caught her arm.
"I know when somebody is lost. If you need somebody to talk to you are perfectly welcome to come and see me." He suggested staring at her.
Hermione ripped her arm out of his grasp. "Thank you for this suggestion, Mr. Collins, but I'm perfectly capable to look after myself. Now, If you'll excuse me." He was the last person she wanted to talk to about her impending problem.
She quickly rushed out of the churchyard around the corner and apparated before anyone else could see her.
It was done. He had procured him and brought him to Prison 42. His pink skinned bastard brother would soon face justice. After all he had broken one of the most sacred laws of their people. Their father, who had died with the rest of his family in the last hostile contact with Xandar, would be ashamed knowing what his eldest son had done. His bastard, who he had compared all his sons with. He had grown soft and relished in his emotions openly. The pile of flesh in the centre of the force field platform was shaking. He was still crying for his weak Terran wife that he had lost in the attack of their flying vessel. He regarded him coldly from in front of the ray shield. It had been the strangest thing. There had been no recognition in his brother's eyes when he had taken him from the vessel before his Dark Aster had obliterated it. Somebody seemed to have tempered with his brother's mind. He gripped his Cosmi-Rod tighter. The Supreme Intelligence would set him straight. And if it found any evidence of Skrull technology then he wouldn't hesitate to obliterate that puny primitive planet.