Lucius Malfoy changed his sitting position – under no circumstances did he want to show his colleagues that the intimate situation in the armchair next to him excited him.

Trying to appear as if he was just thinking about an amount to demand, he stared at the almost naked Hermione Granger. She looked absolutely frightened and at the same time incredibly erotic. He tried to reason with himself, concentrating on the fact that she was a Mudblood, but he couldn't deny his own arousal. The young female body was enough to make him forget the blood status.

More and more he was repulsed by the thought that Greyback, of all people, wanted to deflower his slave. The werewolf was very popular among the lower ranks of the Dark Lord's army because he was cruel and shared his nasty jokes with others. But he was not appreciated in the leadership and Lucius knew that the Dark Lord tolerated this man, who was not even a real man and always stank miserably, only because he could use him. His slave girl was too valuable to give away to someone like him.

Hermione still had her eyes closed. Desperately, she tried not to sob out loud, but there was nothing she could do against her tears. There was no reason why the blond wizard shouldn't sell her, here and now. Maybe it was even better that way - once it was over, she no longer had to fear the inevitable. Maybe she would get used to it, maybe sooner rather than later...

No, no matter how hard she tried, Hermione couldn't convince herself that there was anything good about this situation. Just as she knew that her opinion didn't count, and that at the end of the evening she would probably be finally and completely humiliated. So much fear and helplessness held her captive that she hardly noticed the rubbing movements of the werewolf beneath her anymore.

"300 Galleons, here and now!"

Hermione opened her eyes and stared at her owner. 300 Galleons? That was a small fortune! Lucius Malfoy demanded that much for her virginity? Incapable of any reaction, she just stared, even her tears dried up in the shock.

Her surprise was reflected in the faces of everyone else present, especially Fenrir Greyback was speechless. His movements were frozen, only his hands still clinging tightly to Hermione's hips.

"300 Galleons? Are you crazy?" he asked incredulously, "I don't have that much here!"

"Then I'm sorry," Lucius replied, outwardly unmoved, "she is not just any Mudblood, but one of the most important pawns Dumbledore has set in the game against the Dark Lord. Though she is a Mudblood, she is of great value because of her position."

Dolohov and Macnair both began to nod slowly - the explanation was obvious and they seemed to admire the alert mind of their colleague. Only Severus Snape looked suspicious. Hermione wondered whether her former professor doubted that only rational calculation had guided Malfoy. She too noticed that her Master suddenly seemed a lot more flustered than he should be.

"Malfoy!" the werewolf moaned, "Are you deliberately trying to torture me?"

"No, Greyback, but I do not give up things of value lightly, even to colleagues."

"Fuck you!" Fenrir Greyback hurled at him and knocked Hermione from his lap. He left the meeting without a word. Shaking his head, the other four men looked on.

"He's half animal, after all. Can never really control his urges and then just lets his mind go down. Disgusting!" Macnair commented the event. Scornful laughter from Dolohov resounded and Lucius Malfoy also joined in.

Relief spread through Hermione. She could not believe she had been saved so narrowly; her mind was unable to grasp the whole thing. For a moment, the young witch gave in to her feelings, lying calmly on the soft carpet and simply enjoying the fact that she was no longer in concrete danger.

"What are you lying there so lazily," her master hissed at her the next moment, "get dressed properly again and pour more wine. And don't think that I won't punish you for driving away one of my guests! You should be at their service, not drive them away!"

Hermione opened her eyes to this injustice. She'd driven Greyback away, she'd done something wrong? She couldn't believe that any human could be so twisted as to blame her for this situation. On the other hand, she was aware that she had no rights, and that talking back would certainly not improve anything.

Anger and relief over what had happened fought in Hermione as she straightened her bra and pulled the dress down again. In the end, anger gained the upper hand, but the witch did not let go. Outwardly untouched, she picked up the wine bottle again and refilled the now empty wine glasses.

"Well, Severus, now that you have spent the last hour telling us in such detail what the Dark Lord is planning for the near future, it would be good to know how we are to implement it here," Dolohov resumed the conversation. Hermione stood in a corner of the room and pricked up her ears. Even if she couldn't do anything in her current situation, knowledge was still better than ignorance.

"I'd like to," Snape replied, "but unfortunately, the Dark Lord remained unclear on this point. He told me that he would personally see to it that the Continent would understand that he now ruled. And he entrusted us with the task of holding the fort here. Those were his words. Unfortunately, he did not say what he meant. And that is the whole purpose of our meeting here tonight."

"Great that we found out so early," commented Macnair and laughed dryly, "we're here so you can tell us that you can't tell us anything. Really, very good!"

A punishing look hit the Death Eater, a look that Hermione knew only too well from her school days - that's how Snape looked when he was not up for ridicule at all. Despite her plight, she was glad that at last neither she nor another student was the recipient of that look.

"Yes, that's what it's all about," Snape replied in an emphatically calm voice, "I had hoped to work with the four of you to develop a medium-term plan for how we would proceed during His Lordship's absence. But if that's too much for you, Macnair, you are welcome to join the werewolf and go!"

"Now, now," Malfoy intervened, "stop the quarrels. We should be honoured that the Dark Lord has allowed us so much freedom of action."

Macnair, who obviously meant to retort something, fell silent. Hermione wondered whether he was surprised by Malfoy's interpretation of the orders. She wished she knew what Voldemort was up to and whether or not Snape was telling the truth. Did their Lord really leave them to rule the country while he had better things to do? Or did he simply abandon the group after victory?

While her gaze was firmly on the group, she noticed a small nod from Snape, as if he was thanking Malfoy for interrupting. Again, Hermione wondered what exactly was going on between the two. Were they plotting something else or was this just an innocent gesture between two colleagues that were troubled by the stupidity of their peers?

"Perhaps it is most sensible to write down general guiding principles of the Dark Lord and then consider what steps we need to take to reach these goals," Snape suggested. Affirmative nods and serious concentration were the answer.

"Dolohov, name me a goal that the Dark Lord has," Malfoy asked his colleague.

"Keep the wizards' blood pure!"

"Macnair?"

"Subjugate Muggle!"

"Severus?"

"Lead wizards and witches to ancient strength."

"I agree with all three goals and can't think of anything that would not fall under one of the three targets you mentioned," the blond wizard said thoughtfully.

"I also think it is these three points that can be considered the main targets," Snape joined him.

"Well, let's write that down, then. Now we have to think about how we want to fulfil the individual points. And above all: In what order."

"That's a good point, Malfoy," Macnair took up the conversation thread, "I don't think we're in a position to subdue the Muggle at this stage. First, we must make the wizarding community stronger again. To do this we need better education and we must exclude all Mudbloods. Only then will we be strong enough to face this mass of Muggles."

"I am afraid you are right," Dolohov agreed with him, "at the moment the Muggles outnumber us to such an extent that our present strength will hardly suffice. We must therefore remain in secret for the time being and regain our strength of old."

While Hermione watched Malfoy writing down the thoughts of his colleagues, she tried to hide her own reaction to all this. They were talking about these things as if it did not mean the death of thousands, and at the same time she was surprised by how constructive everyone was.

"Dear Sirs," Snape raised his voice, "at what point does blood count as contaminated?"

A moment of silence followed a brief confusion, while all those present thought about the question. Hermione also understood the intention of Snape's question: This was now apparently directly about who was to be considered for the procreation of pure offspring in the future. In other words: Which wizards would be allowed to have sex and children with which witches? Pale with rage, she stared at her former teacher. This invaded everyone's privacy. They wanted to bind relationships and feelings by rules. It was incomprehensible to Hermione how one could be so unemotional that one could think about such a question in cold blood.

"Mudbloods have impure blood," Malfoy was the first to begin, "and it should be obvious to all. But take Potter, for example, who was so beloved by everyone: Both parents were wizards, his father was pure-blooded, but his mother was a Mudblood. Is Harry Potter a pure-blooded wizard for you?"

"His mother's blood also flows in his veins - he is at least a quarter Muggle. I can't call that pureblood!" Macnair replied immediately.

"But his children would only be an eighth part Muggle. I think you could almost call that pure-blood," Dolohov mused.

"Are there any objections to these considerations?", Snape inquired. Everyone shook their heads briefly, then he continued, "So the rule is that at least two generations, parents and grandparents, must all have been wizards or witches to be considered pure-blooded."

"Conversely, this means that only those wizards whose grandparents were already wizards may have descendants in the future with other pure-blooded wizards," Lucius Malfoy finally concluded the conversation, "I'll keep the point and later reformulate it into a law at the Ministry with the help of a legislation wizard."

Hermione closed her eyes. She was surprised that the rules were that lenient. She would have expected everyone to demand that no Muggle should be present in the bloodline anywhere. But then again, that would exclude almost all wizard families except those of the Sacred 28. Perhaps the people present were all too aware that they themselves weren't Purebloods in that strict sense of the word. Only Malfoy belonged to that exclusive group of actual Purebloods.

What surprised her even more about this whole conversation was that apparently, nobody had talked about these things before. While she watched the Death Eaters continue their strategic meeting, she realised that Voldemort was far from thorough. Did the people in his ranks actually know what his plans were? Did anybody know during the Battle of Hogwarts what they were fighting for? Except of course the obvious: defeating Harry and the Order of the Phoenix. Did he share his plans at all?

As Hermione watched Lucius Malfoy talk on, she missed that she herself was being watched. Severus Snape let his eyes wander to the scantily clad slave girl in the room. He could see how she was repulsed by the discussion that was taking place in front of her. Her face was pale, her hands clenched in fists and her whole body trembled slightly. Snape thought he understood what was going on inside her. Under this law, Granger, even if she was no longer a slave, would never be allowed to have children with Ron. But she was not the only one affected by this law, even though the men present were obviously not aware of it.

He himself, the half-blood prince, would never be allowed to produce magical offspring.