Baton Rouge

- 23 -

Day 7 - Sunday afternoon

Hermione was getting increasingly nervous. Every time she thought about the contract expiring in a few hours, her heart was pounding in her chest and she had to take a deep breath. She could have kicked herself for not remembering to check the time when Malfoy had signed the parchment in the Baton Rouge. She was very sure that once the seven-day period was up, the spell on them would disappear. And she still didn't know what would happen after that.

Malfoy had left the apartment in silence again, but that had been just fine with her. He had been so angry that he hadn't exchanged a single word with her, and she certainly could do without that in her last hours here. Instead, Hermione had used the time to rummage through his bookshelf, hoping that he maybe had some book in which she would find a reference to the working and breaking of these types of spells.

Of course she had been unsuccessful. But what had she expected? Malfoy would hardly be as well stocked as the Hogwarts school library. Apart from that, he had no reason to keep textbooks in his private rooms. Malfoy knew all the spells he needed.

She paced restlessly up and down the living room, occasionally glancing out the window. She found herself secretly hoping to spot Malfoy returning. But the street remained empty.

After another excruciatingly long forty-five minutes, Hermione finally pulled herself together. It was enough. Neither was she dependent on Malfoy, nor would she spend her last minutes of freedom worrying unnecessarily. She assumed that as soon as she set foot in her home again, she would be immediately forced into the bar. After all, the Baton Rouge would be in full swing when she returned.

It was over. The week was over and she had survived it. That was more than she had initially dared to hope for. And Malfoy would probably even be relieved once she was gone. There was absolutely no need to mull it over any further. With a bit of luck, they wouldn't run into each other again anytime soon. Life would go on.

Hermione resolutely stopped her chain of thought and pulled off her sweater instead. It was time for one last shower in Malfoy's outrageously lavishly decorated bathroom. If she still had the chance, she would take it. She knew that otherwise she would bitterly regret not having enjoyed these last few comforts.

Within seconds, Hermione was undressed and entered the small room. She closed the door behind her, laid out a towel and glanced into the mirror that hung over Malfoy's sink.

She actually looked better, she realized. The color had returned to her cheeks and the shadows under her eyes were gone, which was probably due to spending most of the past few days in Malfoy's bed. There was almost no sign of her drug withdrawal anymore, and a small voice in the back of her mind whispered to Hermione that this was Malfoy's achievement.

But also the fresh air and the walk had done her good. Her limbs no longer ached and for the first time in a very long time she felt remotely alive. Hermione was almost wistful as she thought that this exhilaration wouldn't last long. She was sure that everyday life would quickly catch up with her when she returned to the brothel.

The only silver lining was that the Baton Rouge might give her a fresh start of sorts. Before Malfoy had taken her with him, she had barely had time to acquaint herself with the new job and the club itself. But she was sure that her life (at least compared to her stay in Knockturn Alley) would improve drastically from now on. So hopefully going back to the brothel wouldn't be as bad as it seemed right now.

Hermione entered the shower, turned on the hot water and tilted her head back. For a long while she just stood under the gush, keeping her eyes closed and trying hard to clear her head.