"Auctioning off prisoner 1345, prisoner 1345. Twenty-one years old, top of her class, Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, part Veela. Starting the bidding at 350 galleons."

A hand raised somewhere in the second row.

"Three hundred fifty galleons, do I hear 400 galleons?"

Another hand raised and the bidder spoke a quick, "450".

"Four hundred and fifty galleons, going once, going twice, sold."

A curly haired brunet was then lead to the center of the stage; her eyes glinting with unshed tears.

"Auctioning off prisoner 487, prisoner 487. Nineteen years old, top of her class, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, muggleborn." This last word brought a collective hiss from the crowd. Ignoring this, the man continued. "Excelled at household charms, starting the bidding at fifty galleons."

A woman hesitantly raised her hand.

"Fifty, do I hear one hundred"

No one moved and the man repeated, "do I hear one hundred," he looked around the room, "sold for fifty galleons."

The room held its breath as the next prisoner was dragged on to the stage. Like the others, she was wearing a long, old-fashioned gown. However, unlike the other, her eyes flashed with a blazing hatred which contrasting the deadness in the eyes of the rest.

"Auctioning off prisoner 456, prisoner 456. Eighteen years old, excelling at potions and transfiguration, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, old English pureblood. Starting the bidding at four hundred galleons."

One of the guards gripped the bottom of her chin and forced it upwards, allowing the crowd to see her face. Everyone in this room knew this face; her hair alone was a telltale sign of who she was. Leaving her chin, the guard slowly drew his finger across her jaw causing her to snap at him in what looked to be an attempt to bite off his finger. Some of the crowd sniggered and she bared her teeth in a snarl.

"Father," one young man said quietly, "bid on her, you know I prefer them feisty."

Nodding once the man raised his hand.

"Four hundred galleons, do I hear 450?"

Another man raised his hand, quickly followed by two others.

The auctioneer counted rapidly, "six hundred galleons, do I hear 650?"

Hand and hand rose however the bidding price was slowly falling. This girl would be a trophy in anyone's collection.

"Nine hundred seventy-five galleons, do I hear one thousand?"

Most of the men weighed their options, it was a lot of money and it was only one girl but most of their sons had been staring at her for the past hour. Another voice boomed through the room, cutting through all their thoughts. " Five thousand galleons."

The room was silent. All heads turned to see the imposing figure who had bid the incredible sum. The auctioneer cleared his throat.

"Five thousand galleons going once, going twice… sold to Lucius Malfoy for 5,000 galleons."

Lucius Malfoy then turned to his son, who was sitting next to him. "Now, now Draco," he said casually, "don't look at me this way. With proper training and assistance, of course, she will be fit to carry the family name."