Lovegood wins the next hand and I decide it's about time to go. She asks for one more, though, and I can't tell her no.

I don't know exactly how the companions spend their time when they aren't in a fic, but this might be the only fun she gets to have.

"Where do you stay, Luna?"

She looks completely baffled and I realise I need to explain this question carefully. "When you aren't… here. Playing Snap with me."

Yes, brilliant, I curse myself. That'll make more sense.

But her hazy blue eyes clear a little and she says only, "In the dorm, with the others."

"The other… Ravenclaws?" Now I'm the one confused, like she's still at school.

Luna shrugs. "Everyone. It's a regular dorm. We have beds there. We must have house-elves to keep it tidy and bring food."

Flabbergasted, I try to reconcile this information with what I knew of the early days of Resistance captivity.

This has to be a public opinion thing, a way of softening the optics. Yes, they're well-kept and Obliviated. Healed when needed. No harm done, really.

Like attractions in an amusement park, they're no use if they're not properly cared for.

"How - how long have you been there?" A calculating question, and I'm not disappointed.

"Only a day or two, I think." Luna looks up at me and smiles. "It's your turn, Draco."

Yes, it is. I play a card. "Do they keep you all together, or is it just the other girls with you?"

I'm not surprised to hear it's just girls, just like at Hogwarts. I'm amazed they allow as much socialising as they do, but I'd be stunned to hear that everyone was in the same pool of dormitory beds.

I do get out of Luna that while she said 'everyone,' there are multiple dorms for girls sorted by rough age. That makes sense, as the captivity pool grew. It's probably the same for the men.

"Lovegood, do you know why you're in that dorm?"

I'm edging very close to dangerous territory now, but I can't help myself. This has evolved far beyond what I'd last seen in my initial visits to the park and Dolohov's fics.

Luna meets me with wide, inquisitive eyes, always a little too wide for her face. She always looks startled. "Well, we're in hiding, of course. We're preparing for the final phases of the war. It should be soon, any day now."

Huh.

"'Preparing,'" I repeat. "Do you have books there? Is it like a common room?" I know they don't have wands. She doesn't seem bothered by this obvious gap of war preparation and it must be part of the Obliviation they all go through.

"Oh, yes," she nods seriously. "And I should probably tell them I saw you, but you're not like the others. You've always been kind."

This is not even close to true.

My only redeeming qualities towards Lovegood consisted of playing Snap with her in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor and making myself scarce when the Dark Lord wanted to crucio something out of her so someone else had to do it. The more time I spent in the dungeons, the less I was able to force together the desire to torture her.

It would have exposed a weakness I could not afford.

All of this distracts me enough that she wins this final hand easily, and I look up and say, "Bring me out."

Mind still reeling from this conversation, Dolohov has to ask me twice what I thought.

"Bloody fantastic," I say finally, rising to my feet and shaking his hand. "Well done."

I look around for Blaise. I was in that final simulation for a while. Reading my mind, Dolohov says, "He split. How was Lovegood?"

I give a tight nod, wondering how soon I can get out of here. I need to talk to Blaise. Dolohov has other plans.

"Lovegood gets mixed reviews. I like how weird she is, myself. It's like her little brain can't comprehend it. It takes her forever to even get afraid. She's so confused at first."

I can't even give him credit for a vocabulary word like 'comprehend'. My stomach turns and I reinforce my walls. I'm making movements towards the exit when Dolohov stops me.

"Can we talk?"

Instantly wary, I nod again once and he leads me over to a darkened office. It must be late. Everyone else seems to be gone. The idea of Dolohov in an office is foreign.

He motions for me to sit and I bristle automatically at the implication that he's more important than I am here - even though he is.

I wish I knew what this was about so I could prepare myself. Knowing Dolohov, it could be anything but I'm concerned it's about my lack of interest here over the past year.

He reviews old ground as if he needs the reassurance before whatever he brings up next. "So everything was good?"

"Looked exactly like the real things," I confirm again. "What's up next?"

That's the right thing to say. Express curiosity.

"Something new," his black eyes glitter with anticipation. "Something I was hoping you might test for me in another week or so. Zabini, too, but I didn't get a chance to ask him. Our own testers are in the fics so often, I need fresh eyes."

I raise my eyebrows, feigning a casual nonchalance.

"You can test it now, if you -"

I interrupt to delay without deciding whether it's wise. "Next week is best." I think better of this and try to backtrack to some level of interest. "What is it?"

"Snape is experimenting with a Polyjuice that lasts longer than an hour. We're going to let you go into a fic as a captive."

Grasping the implications of this takes me longer than it should.

Dolohov doesn't seem to notice, ploughing ahead.

"You should see Potter's girlfriend if you go into the fic as Potter. She's so thrilled to see him, she practically attacks you. Some people aren't into the fics for the rape, so it's a new angle. I thought of you for testing."

He's looking at me from across his desk a little cautiously, keeping his gaze indirect.

Time to sort out whatever undercurrents he's afraid to say. "Why me?" I relish putting him on the spot as his discomfort obviously grows. As long as his is worse than mine.

He dodges me, an admirable feint - but I'm afraid there's a different subtext when he brings up this one. "Weasley and Granger are our other popular couple, but she's not a slag like Potter's girlfriend. Granger makes Weasley work for it, no matter how eager he appears to see her."

I give a snort. Of course she does.

"Are you saying those are my choices?"

Dolohov looks at me straight on again. "If there's someone else, just let me know. We only care if the potion lasts as long as Snape's designing it for. So Granger is probably better anyway, since she takes so bloody long to come around to it."

He could test that potion's longevity in a dozen ways that don't involve an actual companion, and I don't like how he's been circling around Granger as the right selection to tempt me.

But I have a card to play. I lean forward, boring my eyes into his.

"Why would I want to be Weasley? You think I'd ever want to be a disgusting, Mudblood-loving blood traitor like that, even for an hour? I'm a Malfoy. I'd never embarrass my name that way."

He spins backward so fast it would be amusing if I were in a better mood. "Go as Potter, then. We think he's going to be the main attraction. His girlfriend should be happy."

I sit back in my chair and cross an ankle over one knee, enjoying the way Dolohov tangibly relaxes. "So instead of being a Weasley, you think I want to stick my dick in one? Half the school got inside that slag. Find someone else."

Infuriatingly, he presses me. "Malfoy, I need it tested. Tell me who else you want."

"Dolohov, I have no interest in tricking a woman into sex, even if she's some revolting, low-rent bitch. There's nothing in it for me."

Standing now, I lean over the desk, down into his face. He shifts his big bulk backwards automatically, sliding his chair on its wheels. "When I fuck a woman, she knows it's me and she's thrilled to have the opportunity. The grateful look on their face is half the fun."

This is partially true, in fact. I don't go for desperation, but seeing the triumph they associate with fucking a Malfoy is gratifying.

With a shrewdness I don't associate with Dolohov, he calls out to me as I walk away. "Lovegood, then? You like Lovegood."

I force myself not to freeze, to turn back around casually.

Leaning my weight against the door frame, I mentally sift through how to redirect him. I have to turn this around onto him. "What's the urgency here, Dolohov? Is something happening?"

Success.

He glances down at his desk out of reflex and I walk back into the room, leaning my weight down onto my hands so I can peer at the papers in front of him. They're upside down for me, so I purposefully spin one so I can read it.

Financial statements.

I didn't know Dolohov could count.

Maybe he can't do it very well and that's the bulk of his problem.

"You're in trouble here, aren't you? Is business down?" I can tell I'm right and I allow a slow smile to creep across my face, enjoying my upper hand.

I could sit again but I prefer to stand over him like this. "You're putting an awful lot into expansions. You must be optimistic they'll turn things around. How bad is it? Tell me."

He rubs a hand over his face. "The companions are the expensive part. How we have to keep them, the Healers we have, hell, even feeding them. If people can't get motivated to pay for the fics, we will be in trouble."

"So is interest starting to flag?" Maybe I wasn't the only one uncomfortable with it.

He turns his head in a negative gesture. "Not exactly. Maybe. It's not down, it's just not up. And we're putting in a lot of money, like you said. If we raise prices, we lose guests. If we lower prices, we devalue the experience. We need to keep people curious about what we can offer."

Dolohov's assessments are impressing me in spite of myself. Maybe there are a few more brain cells in there than I give him credit for. "How long can you float the new expansion costs before you need to see a return?"

Dolohov sighs. "A few months, maybe. Depending on interest in the new fics and the Polyjuice option. We're also looking at some modified imperio curses, letting you choose how the companion acts or reacts to you."

He lifts his eyebrows in a way I'm supposed to find suggestive.

"I think we have different opinions on what constitutes tricking them," I say coldly. "But you kept me here late, just to talk about this. You need money. You need a new investor. Don't you? That's why you want me to like it so bad. You want Malfoy money."

He tries to stammer something useless and I can't help it. "Why use the companions at all? You said they're the most expensive part. Just create the fics without them. If you can simulate a live Quidditch game, you could simulate the companion, too."

He shakes his head, and I'm grateful. I was edging extremely close to something dangerous, even if I could spin it as a potential investor probing a financial recommendation. "Half the feedback is positive on knowing the companion is real. Alive."

There's that wave of revulsion again and I feel my lip curl slightly against my occlumency.

"What would interest you, Malfoy? What would get a positive review from you?"

Without hesitation, I answer, "Let Potter duel me back. It's no fun when it's rigged."

Dolohov's eyes light up with intensity. "He can duel you, though. What else do you mean?"

"He can draw on me, he can fire spells, but nothing happens. It's a joke. It got boring."

"You want him to be able to hurt you?" He's sceptical, now.

Maybe I'm the only one who's ever brought this up. How is that possible? Maybe I'm just the only one around here with any creativity.

"Nothing irrevocable, but enough to alter a duel. Enough to make me adjust spells and tactics, a real back-and-forth. Something to respond to instead of him firing nothing but light and me cursing him off the bat."

I see how excited he is to have a real conversation about the possibility, and I know this was the right tactic.

Of course I do mean what I'm saying, which helps, but this gets Dolohov off the rape aspect of things and what does or does not hold my interest.

I can't explain the time I just spent with Lovegood, the time I used to spend getting slapped across the face by Granger, if my cock never left my pants. Dolohov can't perceive anything else.

'No, we played six hands of Exploding Snap while I asked about her living conditions.' He'd think it was a euphemism.

I'm still leaning across his desk into his face and I push off with my hands, standing back up. "Make that happen, Dolohov," I say confidently, "and we'll talk."

He's visibly disappointed that I'm moving to leave now that we've finally established our own productive back-and-forth. Or maybe he's visibly disappointed that I'm requesting a different sort of expansion that he hasn't even considered.

Never mind what I just told him, which was a strident effort to appear engaged and dispel any suspicions he may have of my commitment to the Dark movement's post-war endeavours; I hate this park and everything about it.

Even legitimately duelling Potter would only be entertaining for so long. But a new thought is nagging at me now.

So against my better judgement, I turn back. Leaning against the door frame again with my ankles crossed, I ask, "How much do you need, anyway? What happens if you go under?"

He looks reluctant to give up this information, but after all - he did bring me here specifically to talk about investing. "Probably around 5,000 galleons a month more than we're currently bringing in, until revenue starts to offset the expansion costs."

"You need more than that, though," I probe deliberately, a wry eyebrow raised. I do my best to look amused at his assumed incompetence on how to run a business. It's not hard. "You need revenue to increase. You need actual growth. What happens if you don't get it?"

"You aren't the first to suggest not using the companions at all. I'm trying to argue that the draw of having them justifies the expense of keeping them. But if I get overruled, we'll just get rid of them and use simulated fics exclusively."

I nod casually as I turn again to leave.

But as I walk away, my thoughts keep turning over Dolohov saying 'we'll just get rid of them.'