Summary: Hermione Granger is taken by force from the wedding of Bill and Fleur Weasley to be used for prostitution. At the Malfoy Manor, she decides to make the best of the situation and use her current position to gather valuable information for the Order of the Phoenix. This proves to be easier than she expects, as Hermione has a hidden talent that no one expected her to have.

Hermione is the main charactor in this story and it is told from her point of view. I made up a few characters, so if you're wondering who Brilette Brizeberg is, she's not in the series by JK Rowling. I don't even think her name existed until I wrote this. Bri does have a significant role here. She's basically the only person at the Manor who knows and supports Hermione throughout their predicament, kind of a sidekick if you will. I completely made Brilette up and portrayed her as a strong-willed character and I hope you look up to her as much as I do.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters created by Jo Rowling.

Chapter 1: Selection

How do I get myself into these situations?

That's gotta be the twentieth time I've asked myself that, and it still hasn't gotten me anywhere.

Okay, fine. How about, how do I get out of the current predicament?

You've asked that question even more times! Really, Hermione, rack your brains! Are you not the brightest witch in your year, if not Hogwarts history?!?

That's not important right now. I really don't think that the blood-thirsty, power-hungry Death Eaters that dragged me from Bill and Fleur's wedding give a shit about the number of Outstandings that I've received on my O.W.L.s in the past two years. To these awful people, I'm the lowest form of human life there is; lower than dirt in their eyes. I'm not their idea of "normal", and that's enough to make them hate me. I, Hermione Jean Granger, am a Mudblood; therefore, I'm not a human being. That's why I stand here in this filthy, spider infested dungeon wearing nothing but the tattered remains of my gown the Death Eaters so generously allowed me to wear.

My God! Was it only just yesterday that I was dancing with Ron and laughing until I cried with all the Weasley's? Had things changed so much during twenty-four hours? This time yesterday I was toasting the happy couple a long, lovely marriage at one of the most beautiful weddings in the Wizarding World! And Viktor!!! Oh my God please let him be okay!

During Bill and Fleur's first dance as spouses, Viktor had pulled me under a teeming cherry blossom tree and proposed. I remember how taken aback I was, stuttering and laughing, trying to come up with the right answer. It's not that I don't have love for Viktor; I'm just not in love with him. He looked so happy, like he took my speechlessness for joy and passion. I never gave him an answer, and I don't think I ever will. Before I could say anything, we were attacked by none other than Greyback the werewolf.

He lunged at Viktor first, knocking him down and breaking his nose. I remember hearing bones snap and realizing that he might be dead. Greyback then turned to me and proceeded to have some "fun" before kidnapping me and taking me to the Malfoy Manor. I was slammed into the nearby tree; it suddenly didn't look so beautiful to me. I screamed in agony when I acknowledged the fact that the impact had shattered my left arm. My flattering gown was all but ripped off of me when he violently raped me next to my ex-boyfriend's unconscious form.

It wasn't as painful as I expected. This had happened to me before. In my sixth-year, I briefly dated Cormack McLaggen for Slughorn's Christmas Party. He was only dating me because he just wanted a piece of ass, I now realize. When I refused to sleep with him, he spiked my drinks with sixty milligrams of Chloroform. Madam Pomfrey said I was lucky to be alive. I came to twice during the actual crime, and both times were extremely painful. I only know for sure because the next day I was covered in bruises.

Before long, people heard my screams and came running to find the source. Greyback leaped off me and ripped apart the three men who attempted to rescue me. I was beginning to pass out when I glanced sideways to see Viktor staring unblinkingly at me. His handsome face was drenched in fresh blood. With all my remaining strength, I reached forward and grasped his twitching hand. He smiled weakly, and I smiled back before Greyback returned from the mauling to sling me over his shoulder and bound out of the Weasley's property before dissapparating to the manor.

I shiver at the memory and glance at Greyback as he walks from girl to girl and burns something in their chest.

Pure hatred.

What sucks the most about this situation is that I'm not suffering it alone. At least seventy other undesirables like me are crammed into this sweaty hellhole, awaiting the verdict. Next to me is one of my best friends, Brilette Brizeberg. If we hadn't been holding hands, if I had been completely alone, I would have gone insane by now. Bri has had it worse than me by far. She was forced to watch her mother tortured and killed by Bellatrix Lestrange before she herself was dragged out of her family's summer home in Greece. Her younger sisters, Faith and Petra, are currently working as slaves at the Lestrange's estate in Cardiff. We learned this mere minutes ago from a girl a few rows ahead of us named Manasseh. She is not only muggle-born, but also of Jewish descent. Oh, the irony!

Bri doesn't feel reassured by this information. She knows that once the girls are old enough, they will face the same fate as we; death or prostitution. My father died of a drug overdose when I was fourteen and I haven't spoken to my mother since their divorce. She probably of in some exotic country like Fiji for a modeling gig, with no idea of the horrible plans these people have for me. I have no reason to fear for her safety.

I wish they wouldn't drag this out more than necessary; there's going to be an entire ceremony in which four Death Eaters will each pick a girl to keep them company at night. That's a scary thought; only four of the seventy-two young women in this room have a shot at survival. But, wait! There's more! Every last one of Voldemort's –yeah I said it, I'm already in a hopeless situation what harm could that stupid name possibly do me now?- little soldiers must be there to stare at our exposed bodies, think up perverted fantasies, and overall make us feel even more ashamed of ourselves.

Brilette lets out a pained gasp. I look over at her with concern; she's all that I have now. Fenrir Greyback has stopped in front of Brilette and is branding the number 56 into her collarbone with a hungry expression on his face. She doesn't fight back and I don't say anything; we both know that he'll make life that much more painful for us if we step out of line. When he's done, he starts to turn away, but then reaches around Bri and pinches her bum.

Pig, bastard, who the hell does he think he is?!

She winces but keeps her mouth shut, not wanting to give him a reason to hurt her anymore. Greyback approaches me, wand raised with a perverted smile on his ugly face. He's such an ass and I hate him for touching my friend like that. I pray silently that no girl in this room has to sleep with this womanizing pedophile before my thoughts are interrupted by scalding pain in my shoulder.

SHIT! SHIT! SHIT! OH MY GOD! IT BURNS!

I was stupid enough to look down as a burnt 57 is branded into my skin. It made me feel even more insignificant.Greyback had been looking for an excuse to abuse someone and saw his opportunity. With one swift flick of his wrist, he slaps me clear across my right cheek and I fall to the floor.

I hate you, you son of a bitch!! I scream inside my head.

He smiles down at me as I clutch my steadily reddening cheek and glare daggers up at him.

"Get up, vermin. And don't even think you can get away with looking at me like that, you filthy, Mudblood whore!"

He raises his hand to hit me again and I glance defiantly up at him, waiting for the blow. Out of nowhere, Bri's hand closes on his wrist as she steps between the two of us.

"Leave her alone," she whispers harshly, "you'll get to have your way with one of us. That should be enough for a rapist like you."

Greyback's shocked expression turns to one of pure anger and hatred. He points his wand directly at Bri's heart. I gasp in horror. She doesn't even flinch.

Oh God! Oh God, not Bri! Please, please don't hurt Bri!!

Greyback opens his mouth to growl the dreaded killing curse, but Brilette Brizeberg shows no fear; she just stands there daring him to do it. He just about does, when the drawling, sadistic voice of Lucius Malfoy stops him.

"Greyback, for Merlin's sake! I instructed you to number the Mudbloods, not beat them into submission! Finish your job! There's at least fifteen more! When you're done, come outside and inform us so the selection can begin!"

"Selection", he says it like it's no big deal, like he murders seventy women and leaves only four alive to be raped and tortured every day. Like it was in the damn job application.

Greyback sneers at a smirking Bri as Lucius stalks off in those stupid, showy million dollar boots. As soon as he knows Malfoy's out of earshot he leans over to Brilette.

"You will regret this you smug little bitch." He whispers harshly in her ear. She shivers slightly, but doesn't back away.

He then leers down at me, a filthy Mudblood who's nothing but a number on a list now. Drawing in all his breath, he spits directly at my face. He needs to brush his teeth every once in a while; that was the most revolting scent I've ever had the misfortune to smell. I wipe my face as Bri helps me back onto my feet and I glare at his back as he numbers the timid-looking redhead next to me.

I wait a few minutes in silence next to my best friend until I'm positive Greyback can't hear us.

"Bri, you really shouldn't have done that. He's going to make it a point to make your life miserable now."

Bri shrugs, "It's not like it can get any worse than this. 'Mione, we're not even human beings to these people; we are dirt on the ground to them."

No, Bri, we're much lower than that. They hate us for existing!

I don't say anything. I just stare hopelessly at her. Bri was one of the prettiest girls back at Hogwarts. She didn't really need to wear makeup; Brilette Brizeberg had a natural essence of beauty within her. Now, her long, curly dirty blonde hair was a twisted and tangled. The entire left side of her head was caked and matted with dry blood. Angry infected gashes were etched into her face, chest, and arms. Her throbbing black eye bothered me the most; I felt like she wasn't really seeing me anymore with one of her once gorgeous eyes swollen shut.

Simultaneously, we stepped forward and hugged each other, sobbing at our chances of leaving this room. A few other girls saw us and broke into quiet sobs themselves. We all seemed to realize how hopeless our situation was at the same time. Of the seventy-two broken, beaten young women in this room, only four would survive, only to be abused in every way imaginable by these horrible monsters who dared to call themselves human.

Minutes had passed by and we were still hugging each other. Suddenly, the sound of fifty plus wizards apparating into our dismal little dungeon. Many of the girls screamed and tried to hide, but there was nowhere to run; our fate was sealed. That's when he showed up; Lord Voldemort. He strategically apparated just after all the others to make a subtle yet powerful entrance. His paper-white skin and grotesquely long fingers sent chills down my spine. One look at this arrogant, heartless man and I hated him with a passion.

There he stood before us, surveying our bruised bodies with mock concern. A young girl in front of me (I think her name was Gemma) whimpered and began to cry weakly. I reached forward and hugged her quivering body, trying to calm her down. At this point, it was best not to draw attention to yourself. I knew if Gemma didn't calm herself down, she would be this murderer's next victim.

His snake-like eyes fell upon myself and Gemma. He smiled a sadistic smile that will haunt me forever. He met his gaze with the quivering teenager in front of me and after several seconds, she began to whimper and shake even more. I knew what he was doing; he was invading Gemma's frightened and immature mind. Protectively, I yanked her away from his mesmerizing gaze.

Realizing that his victim was suddenly out of his gaze, Voldemort glared up at me with pure hatred. I stared back at him, refusing to let him frighten me. I knew he was trying to invade my mind and torture me mentally; but at this point, I wasn't about to let anyone break me without a fight.

Leave us the hell alone you sick murdering freak!!

His eyes widened as he heard my mental insult. At first, the Dark Lord made a move to jinx me into oblivion. But then, with his wand raised and pointed directly between my eyes, his face went suddenly blank. For a second, Lord Voldemort looked confused and completely flabbergasted. He quickly covered the brief moment of vulnerability with an evil smile in my direction. I still refused to shiver. Turning from us, he gracefully whipped his wand out and conjured an elegant throne against the wall facing us. Upon sitting on the soft cushion, he surveyed our group one last time, making a point to stop and meet my gaze.

Don't you ever try to hurt Gemma again! I growled mentally because I knew he was trying to mess with my head again.

His lips twitched, like he longed to curse me right then and there. Instead, he adjusted so that he was facing the general crowd of terrified women.

"Let the selection commence." Lord Voldemort boomed with his arms wide to the crowd of frightened women.