#magicalmuses

Hermione took a deep breath as she crossed the obvious wards toward the Lucius Malfoy’s cottage. This was the first time she’d meet him in a true setting, in a not-war setting....since knowing he’d been her main benefactor for years.

Hermione Granger could have done anything after the war. The Ministry, the DMLE, Universities, they all wanted her. She chose Hogwarts and then announced her non-profit: Muggleborn Mentions. It was for the muggleborn orphans as well as introducing the wizarding world to muggleborn as soon as possible.

Currently, it was the fifth anniversary of the charity. Never had she had to worry for meeting her yearly goals. If she ever came close to even worrying her Anonymous Angel would send in more galleons. At least, that's what she called them. AA was her savior. They were yearly her highest donor and always there when the foundation published a story or held a gala to support it.

It was only recently that she actually found out who AA was and it was all by accident. Draco Malfoy, a very surprising contact and kind of friend, had revealed his father’s shell company during an inconsequential conversation. She’d heard of it though, one of the first donators before she’d named AA. She knew all of her donors and she’d looked it up and tracked it back to Malfoy Industries. Draco might not have realized it but she knew....Lucius Malfoy was her main donor. To the most well known Muggle born....To the young woman who was tortured in his home.

Sitting in a dinner, Jason continued combing the newspapers for any signs of the others, chuckling softly to himself as he saw that Diego had been thrown into an institution, he briefly looked up and saw a man with the very specific Hello and Goodbye tattoos on the palm of his hands. Getting up from his seat with some urgency, Jase moved towards the man quickly. “Klaus? Oh my god I thought it was just me and Diego.” He said before realising that man wasn’t Klaus. “Okay, sorry you’re not the right person, I thought you were someone else.”

Everything felt wrong. It was September and like always Hermione was at Hogwarts for another school year. But after the war, after everything she went through it wasn’t the same. McGonagall had made her Head Girl for the year and she was waiting for her partner to show up. 

The class of 1st years was smaller this year, and the students were in near tears worried about the sorting ceremony, not wanting to be related to an ‘evil’ house. This was the exactly the type of thing Hermione wouldn’t stand. She was tired of fighting, tired of the sides. A part of her was happy she would be in her own quarters this year, and had a small common room to herself and the Head Boy.

Seeing the sculpture turn around Hermione perked up at the prospect of meeting McGonagall and discussing the duties of Head Boy and girl.

Holding out her hand to shake his Hermione froze mid sentence as she stuttered out. 

“Pleasure to work with you this year... M-Malfoy?”

Rachael’s least favorite class had just became charms class because the professor paired her with the only person in the school who she did not want to work with, Faustian.  he was always so cocky.  Even worse than Harry.  It drove her crazy.  Still she was trying to put on a smile and do the right thing which of course meant playing nice.

For one thing, Fenrir really hated time turners, they were destroyed yes but not all of them and for some reason he got his hands on one, not really sure what to do with this type of device. So he asked Pamina, who had some idea but wasn’t sure. Yet sadly malfunctioning time turners were kind of dangerous and in the end they found themselves in a world very similiar to their own. At least from the screams and running away from mentionin his own name.

Also from the weird looks since he looked completely different and sounded also kind of nicer than whoever they meant.

It had been going so well. Their attack had gone off without a hitch.  They’d been able to get into the facility that had the necessary information for her research but she’d made the stupidest mistake.  She’d left her bag in the lab when the alarms started going off.  She couldn’t just leave it there though, it pretty much held her entire life.  Every sacred item she had from her parents was kept in that bag.  

It was that sentimentality that always got her in trouble and it did this time too. Security was already on her when she’d grabbed her bag and started out again. She tried to outrun them, to hide, but they had her scent and she’d been captured.

They’d tried to get her to turn in her rebel group but Hermione wasn’t just known for her sentimentality, she was also known for her stubbornness. She went through the threats, the manhandling, the torture.  They were going to just kill her when one of the higher ups suggested a different option….Blood Slavery. Unbeknownst to her, Intelligence Chief Snape had taken a liking to her and knew he couldn’t just “claim” a prisoner.  Even vampires had laws apparently.

They’d gotten her medical attention, let her cuts and bruises heal before “reforming” her.  She was trained in how to be a good “blood slave.”  There had been more punishments, more bruises, but even Hermione began to wain with this regimen.  This wasn’t them trying to make her talk.  This was them breaking her spirit and mind. Finally, after months, they proclaimed her ready for sale.

It was by pure coincidence that she graduated “slave school” just as one of the vampire’s largest festivals began.  It was one that only came with the blood moon.  It was night after night filled with sex, violence, and general debauchery for a week.

Hermione was bathed, washed, shaved, plucked, groomed, perfumed, and completely transformed to be put on the auction block.  She assumed they’d just throw her up there naked but no, that was too crass for this clientele.  Apparently they were to be kept in “rooms” (read: pens) to be examined by the potential buyers then they would be auctioned off to the highest bidder.  

The pens were small oasis tents set up in one area that only ‘VIP’ vampires could access.  The ‘cattle’ (as Hermione liked to call it) were laid out on pillows and chaises, on display for those who would buy them just for sex and their nourishment.  They weren’t kept naked, they were dressed in the finest silks money could buy. Each tent featured a different color and the slave inside was dressed to match.  They all wore thin collars around their necks but no chain.  Each tent had an invisible boundary that if the slave passed through without being turned off, 10,000 volts of electricity were emitted from the collar.