The entire room went deadly silent. Some people turned on their heels as quickly as possible, some turned slowly and studied her with narrowed eyes, and a few tried to bolt for the cellar stairs. The old man who had led Hermione down below blocked the way, waving his wand innocently, an amused, toothy smile lighting up his wrinkled face. Hermione shoved her hands in her robes. One hand grabbed her wand in case she needed to fight her way out and the other shook within the hot confines of her pocket.

"Hermione Weasley? From the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?" the stocky, brunette man said, his face surprised but not troubled.

The woman coach narrowed her eyes and snarled, "The little mudblood thought she could sneak in here so she could run back and get her little auror buddies to organize a raid, did she?"

Hermione was filled with a sudden anger that consumed her, making her skin grow hot. She hardly noticed that some of the wizards and witches around her were pulling out their wands and coming towards her as she whipped out her own and pointed it at the witch. Hermione looked her in the eyes and focused on her as much as she could to keep her wand hand steady.

"Don't you dare call me that word again! I fought a war to erase that bloody slur from history so you damn well keep your mouth shut before I remind you why I faced Voldemort and lived!"

The crowd around her stopped moving and a few people gasped. Hermione just rolled her eyes.

"No reason to fear a name. I'm here to play the game."

Hermione's eyes glanced over to see Draco Malfoy staring at her intently, his grey eyes looked almost impressed.

"That git," she murmured, keeping her wand up.

Draco shrugged nonchalantly. "Why would she come here with only a cloak on to disguise herself if she meant to spy on us? Although I loathe admitting it, Granger is smarter than that. If the rumors are true she could've easily whipped up a polyjuice potion."

"It's Weasley now," Hermione said, gripping her wand even tighter.

Draco just turned to the old man on the stairs. "You have an opinion Rafaelus?"

"Oh I think she's motivated, Master Malfoy," Rafaelus chuckled. "But not by justice."

Rafaelus left that hanging in the air, washing over the crowd, letting them draw their own conclusions of Hermione's motives. It had the desirable effect as people stopped looking like they wanted to hex her and more like they were genuinely curious as to why she had wandered down into such dark territory.

Malfoy merely smirked. "That settles that Granger, though I stand by what I said before. You are still one lioness in a den of snakes."

Having said his piece he turned to the woman, his posture lax and his eyes bored.

"Hurry it along Daphne, so we can thin out the place. It's starting to stink of desperation."

Daphne smirked.

"All too right, Draco," she said.

Turning to the brunette, who wore a smile wider than the Thames, she gestured her head to the side. It was a silent command. Hermione was trying to work out the chain of command between the three through words and gestures. It was obvious that the child-like man was at the bottom of this little totem pole. Draco and Daphne were a mystery.

"I'm August Zacarias, and this is the lovely Daphne Greengrass," he drawled out "lovely," and Hermione had to fight back a giggle. "You all know the infamous Draco Malfoy. We are what you will know as impartial judges, as well as your mentors. You will be divided amongst the three of us and we will coach you in anyway we can as you advance through the rounds. The higher you climb the more money you get."

"And the longer you live," Draco added.

There was a hush over the crowd. Hermione gulped, looking around her at the faces of her opponents. She could tell by the glint in a couple of people's eyes that they relished this. They looked forward to the rush of adrenaline that meant risking your life. Others looked as frightened as she felt but were motivated by need and desperation. She noticed a few of the adrenaline seekers could barely have been older than 22. Fresh out of Hogwarts. None of them knew what it was to truly risk your life everyday, be on the run and live on the blood rushing through your veins. Hermione had never wanted to go back to that point.

August went on, "While you will receive antidotes if you're poisoned in the first five rounds, that just cuts out those who aren't worthy to truly live on the edge. If you are good enough to get that far then you hold your life in your hands for 6 more rounds until there is only one of you left standing. This next trial is simply to weed more of you out."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. Another trial meant they were probably trying to cut their numbers in half at least. Hermione looked around the crowded basement. It looked like there were probably 200 witches and wizards crowding the damp space. There would have to be a cut of a 100 people at least in order to have just a total of 11 rounds. She had a feeling there wouldn't be a helpful riddle this time.

Daphne put her hand on her hip, her deep violet robes creasing where she grasped it.

"We shall separate you into three adjoining rooms, and each of us shall preside over a trial. There will be 7 vials and we will pour the potions into the vials in front of you. We have Tasters, who will take a sip before you. They have built significant tolerances to these poisons and therefore can delay the effect of the poison up to 20 seconds. Drinking right after them, which on average takes about 5 seconds, you will succumb in another 5 seconds. This ensures you didn't institute slight of hand."

"We play with your lives but we do so fairly," Draco said, spreading his arms wide in invitation. "Now, if you don't want to take the risk, we understand. Leave now if you wish."

The tone of Draco's voice, too open and understanding, barely hid the contempt he would hold for those who would slink out of the basement. No one moved. They sensed that they would lose all pride if they left now. They stood stock still, hands clenching and unclenching. Beads of sweat rolled down the man's face in front of Hermione. His face was round and moist, with a widow's peak. Hermione shook her head.

"There's a charm on the doors to ensure that there's as close to an equal number of people in each room as possible," August said. "Now go on, scatter yourselves."

Witches and wizards dispersed around her in a hot mass, each going towards the closest door. Hermione stood, her arms crossed, studying the so-called mentors. She absolutely did not want to be in the same room as Malfoy if she could help it. She was aware that Malfoy would probably not try to sabotage her, they were past petty school grudges and he now had no good motive. He would probably just utterly enjoy seeing Hermione put her life in danger. She did not need to see him smirk at her every time she took a sip of what could be liquid death. Hermione hadn't really known Daphne very well in school but she was related to Draco and that was reason enough for Hermione to stay away. This made up Hermione's mind and she quickly rushed to the room where August would be.

Draco's room had been in the back of the basement, smack in between the two others, so most had flocked there. Wizards and witches were starting to be repelled from the door, a charm pushing them back a few feet whenever they tried to enter. Hermione made it to the right side of the room and was happy when the golden handles of the oak door opened at her touch. She strode inside and quickly made her way to the long wooden table with little stations of empty vials. She chose one to the mid-right of the table, giving herself a good angle in which to study her opponents.

You're having too much fun with this, a voice in her head said but she quickly knocked the thought aside.

It didn't take much longer for the room to become full and the stations surrounding the table each had an occupant. Hermione was stuck between two men, one was tall and tan with a crooked nose and a vicious gleam in his green eyes. The other was big by both length and width, his brown robes covered in fur, and the scent of a menagerie permeated the air around him.

"So, the war hero, Hermione Weasley, fallen from grace."

Hermione whirled around to the tan man with the piercing green eyes. She straightened her back and did her best to adopt a haughty air.

"I'm here for money and a fun little game," she said. "No dignity lost in that."

"Oh dignity and grace are two different things," he said, studying her profile intently. She shifted a bit under his gaze. "I personally believe you've gained some dignity, especially among this lot." He cocked his head, gesturing to the rest of the wizards and witches at the table.

"Why would you say that?" Hermione asked.

He smirked.

"There's a certain dignity in being willing to lower yourself to a task that people associate with the low."

Hermione's eyes widened at that, taken aback at the strange compliment. He nodded his head.

"Karim Mubarak," he said.

Hermione, strangely, found herself smiling. Before she could ask Karim any questions a light, lilting voice interrupted them.

"Alright my dearies! Here's my lovely welcoming gift to you!"

Hermione saw August stroll in, levitating seven different cauldrons in front of him. She wondered how he could talk so cheerily with the amount of concentration it took to levitate so many objects. It was truly impressive.

"Wha's tha smell, eh?" the portly man on Hermione's side asked. Hermione found it tempting to tell him that it was probably his own odor until the stench drifting from some of the cauldrons wafted towards her nose. Hermione couldn't help it. She gagged on the stench, that of rotten corpses and dewy maggots covered in blood and dirt. Several of the people around her were also making valiant efforts not to eject their dinner onto the floor. The wet sound of choking and a splatter alerted Hermione that someone had failed.

August's seemingly permanent smile widened and Hermione shifted uncomfortably as each pearly white tooth gleamed at the crowd.

"My dear Starkrow, would you please escort that man out? If he can't stand the smell he won't be able to handle anything else we throw at him anyways."

August's eyes gleamed, suddenly malicious as he highlighted the weakness of this wizard. A birdlike man that Hermione assumed to be Starkrow lifted the sick man, blonde hair and built, by the collar and pathetically dragged him out of the room. No one moved as silence engulfed the table. Hermione could only imagine that everyone else who had been struggling to fight anything crawling up their throats were hurriedly trying to swallow it. She tried not to gag at the thought.

"Now," August said, suddenly cheery and kind again, "Let's get started."

He raised his wand and the seven cauldrons zoomed around the room, different colored potions lifting themselves from their containers and shooting into the vials sitting in the stands in front of them. Hermione watched the cauldrons closely, flicking her eyes back and forth between August and the potions that were depositing themselves in front of the wizards and witches around the room. August only had his one wand out and he would need to use all of his concentration in order to levitate and pour out the potions around the room. Hermione first took account of other witches and wizards who stood behind the participants at the table. They wore black robes with a silver border that went from the bottom hem of their robes all the way to the hoods. These must be the Tasters, Hermione thought. None of them had wands out and their mouths were closed. Even with wands they couldn't perform magic without incantations. Hermione only knew a handful of people who could do silent or wandless magic and she doubted it was any of the Tasters.

Yet, she remembered, she shouldn't dismiss them so quickly. They had been dedicated and strong enough to build up a tolerance to several poisons.

"Your mind is whirling," Karim said beside her. "You might want to slow down."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him, barely turning her head.

"Your not even a little bit curious?" Hermione asked.

"I'm focused on surviving, and all I need is to pay attention to what's in front of me to do that."

Hermione, to her own surprise, chuckled.

"I do agree."

Karim may trust that the people distributing the poisons in front of them would follow their own rules but Hermione was not about to take that chance. Not when she had children depending on her.

When all of the vials at the table were full the cauldrons zoomed back to August's side and settled on the floor beside his feet.

"Same rules as the test that got you in here. Well," he cocked his head. "Except for the fun little riddle. You don't get that any more."

Murmurs erupted around Hermione and she had to admit she wasn't surprised. However, she couldn't help but give a small gulp. It was already going to be much more difficult to get out of this round unscathed.

"You all will choose which drink to take a swig of. We will give you 5 minutes to decide. When those 5 minutes are up, your Taster will take a swig of the vial you chose first, and right afterwards you WILL drink the rest. No waiting 20 seconds to take a glimpse at your Taster's reaction," August threw up his hands in a theatrical wave and suddenly Hermione felt rather than saw the metal shackles clamped around her ankles. Her first response was to struggle but she knew it was fruitless. The magical chains were charmed so that the more she struggled the tighter they became. She bit her lip as they closed painfully on her ankle, reminding her of the Devil's Snare she had to fight in her First Year of Hogwarts. She thought she heard the audible snap of bone and the clank of chains. There was a short cry. Karim didn't move, his green eyes narrowed at August.

"Now, if you wait too long," August said. "Those chains will give you a nasty little shock, knocking you out automatically. We take cheating very seriously, you see."

"Oh yes, cheating is bad but people dying is fine. Just fine. Weren't in Slytherin were you?" Hermione muttered, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

Karim snorted, bringing a large hand up to his mouth to smother his laughter.

"Now," August said and he turned his head and Hermione swore he was looking straight at her. "Your 5 minutes starts now."