Vacivitas

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Trigger Warnings: dub-con

Mentions of non-con/non-con and sexual slavery happening around them but mentioned briefly

Chapter Twenty-Eight

It's hard for Hermione to grasp what she's looking at when she exits the Carrow Manor's Floo beside Malfoy. There's a lot of gold, statues, portraits that move and portraits that don't. The carpets are lush and blood-red, matching the heavy curtains that line the floor to ceiling stained glass windows. Everywhere she looks, there's something–some sort of decoration, or piece of furniture. None of them match. It's gaudy. It's hideous.

"This is absolutely horrific," Hermione whispers, the words slipping out before she can stop them. "Ugly as Hell."

Malfoy laughs, then disguises it with a cough. He fixes her with a stern look, likely to silently remind her of where they are.

There are people everywhere, milling about with drinks in hands and dressed similar to Hermione and Malfoy. Women in tight dresses that leave little to the imagination, men in casual suits. Men and women both in formal clothing wander amongst the people, offering drinks and hors d'oeuvres on trays. Music can be heard faintly, coming from somewhere further in the house. Several glances are thrown their way, but the general din of conversation doesn't ebb.

"Should I walk behind you?" Hermione whispers.

Malfoy leans down, and she feels his breath against her temple. "No. Just let me lead you."

She nods as his hand slides beneath her curls and wraps around the back of her neck, gently steering her along as he makes his way through the crowd. The Calming Draught is starting to kick in, which helps Hermione not to be bothered by the stares they're getting. Hermione glances at the sea of faces, only recognizing Slytherins she used to go to school with. She doesn't recognize any of the women on their arms.

Malfoy is stopped by several people, most of them older men and women who seem to be officials of some sort. She doesn't pay attention to any of them, even as they remark on her appearance and Malfoy's infamous selfishness when it comes to her. With the potion threading through her veins, she doesn't care. She simply watches Malfoy interact with them. Watches the way they seem to respect him without him having to say much. It's clear that his reputation as Voldemort's executioner precedes him.

Eventually, they make it through the Floo room and into a corridor with vaulted ceilings and more hideous decor. There are less people here, due to the fact that most individuals are walking toward a large set of double doors. It's from these doors that Hermione hears the music.

They enter the room. It's massive–almost as big as a small theater. It has black velvet carpets and several ascending levels with stairs that lead up to each one. The levels are haphazard around the room, with armchairs and couches situated throughout. This room is even more crowded, all of the furniture taken and people filling the available space. At the bottom of the room, below all of the levels, is a smaller platform raised up on the steps. It's on this platform that she sees a woman singing, her sultry voice floating through the room to the tune of a band that she can't see. This platform is likely the one Hermione will be singing on, too.

If it weren't for the potion, Hermione might feel nervous.

Malfoy glances around, apparently spotting whoever he's looking for. He lifts two fingers to get their attention. A woman draped in glittering blue fabric and diamonds saunters up. Hermione eyes the way she leans into him, her fingers playing at the lapels of his blazer.

Something vicious leaps within Hermione's chest–something she has to stamp down. There's no room for her to be jealous. There's nothing between Malfoy and her but blood.