Baton Rouge

- 2 -

There was a knock on her door and Hermione rolled onto her side. She opened her bloodshot eyes and sighed softly. She was sure that she hadn't slept long, and wished she could just keep laying. But she also knew exactly what to expect then, and so she lifted her head and ignored the pain and dull throbbing behind her temples. It seemed to her that she had only just kicked out that boorish drunkard.

„Yes?" she asked not very friendly and the door opened a crack. A diffuse light fell into the dark, cramped room and Hermione squinted to see anything at all. "He wants to talk to you and I have to get you," a soft voice whispered and at first Hermione didn't know which girl it was, but she nodded. "I'll be right there. I'll just get dressed."

The door closed again and Hermione stretched her legs and unwrapped herself from the thin bed sheets. Then she slowly stood up and looked down at herself. She was a little dirty, but nobody would notice. She looked at her bony knees, the two long scars on her lower leg from the fangs of a large snake and finally her sunken hips. Merlin, what had become of her? And how many times had she asked herself that question? It was the phrase that went through her head every time she looked in the mirror. Or woke up. Or had to undress.

Sighing, she grabbed a t-shirt that was in a heap next to the only chair in the room and pulled it on. She groped in the dark for pants or a skirt, but when she couldn't find anything after a few seconds, she shrugged. Her underwear would do. It wasn't like it was all that different from the rest of her clothes.

She left the room and followed the girl downstairs. As she did so, she looked, as always, at the colorful numbers on the room doors and lost herself in thoughts. She kept touching the wall with her fingertips, the plaster peeling off liberally. The girl who had come to get her was one of those Hermione liked, but she didn't feel like talking to her right now. She was tired, hungover, and felt pain in various body parts, which she didn't even want to think about. So all in all it was a normal weekday.

"What time is it?" she asked softly while the girl started rummaging in her purse.

„Six - we'll start in an hour," she murmured and seemed to have found what she had been looking for. She pulled out a plastic bag and Hermione held out her hand unbidden. A small, white pill tumbled onto her palm and she quickly placed it on her tongue, where it dissolved instantly.

"Thanks. You'll get it back later." The girl smiled and glanced out the window.

Hermione followed her gaze and sighed when she realized that it was already dusk. She had slept all day and still didn't feel any better. And now it would just go on, like every evening, like every night. She ran her fingers through her hair and stopped when they reached the room without a number where he was working. He, because nobody knew his name - and certainly not the girls.

"Good luck," said the little one, who was much younger than Hermione, and turned around.

Hermione could only guess what the girl was going to do now. Maybe take a shower, eat something, catch some air in her own room or just go straight to the bar. There weren't many options. The girls' everyday life was restricted. Every day Hermione just hoped that it would pass quickly and she could crawl back into her bed. She stared longingly after the little one, who was now able to enjoy her freedom for a few more minutes. Hermione, for her part, raised her hand and knocked on the door.

"Come in," came a deep male voice, and Hermione slipped into the room. The room was just as dark as her own and Hermione could only dimly see that he had his back on her.

"I received an offer," he said. Very good, he got straight to the point. That was fine with Hermione. "So you're going to have to pack your bags and leave my house."