Sing a Song of Sixpence

Chapter One

Sing a song of sixpence, a pocket full of rye

Four-and-twenty blackbirds baked into a pie. ...

...When the pie was opened, the birds began to sing:

"Isn't that a pretty dish to set before a king!"

--Traditional nursery rhyme

"Sir?" a timid voice said.

Ronald Weasley looked up from his novel. He smiled indulgently at the girl in the doorway. "What do you want, Lavender?" he asked.

"The new girl's here, sir," said her companion. "Shall we send her in?"

Ron sighed. "Yes. Go ahead."

They left, and Ron went back to his book. A minute later, he heard the door open and close. He glanced up briefly and kept reading. When he figured he'd made the girl nervous enough, he set the book down on the desk in front of him. "Sit," he said, motioning to the chair on the other side of the desk.

She did so, shaking slightly from nerves. He sighed inwardly. He hated it when they were nervous.

"What's your name?" he asked, trying to sound as kind as possible.

"Hermione Granger," she said in a barely audible tone.

"Speak up, girl, I can barely hear you," he said.

"Hermione Granger," she repeated, a little louder this time.

Ron studied her for a moment; she was actually rather pretty, with long, brown, curly hair, honey-colored eyes crowned by thick lashes, and softly tanned skin. She was wearing a demure knee-length white skirt and a purple sleeveless top. Her shoes were simple black flats.

She grew fidgety after a moment, uncomfortable under his scrutinizing gaze. "Right, then," he said, and stood up. "Follow me."

She obeyed. He led her down a long hallway carpeted in a rich black pile and painted deep blood-red. The walls were hung with expensive-looking paintings, and the occasional niche held small statuettes or vases of dried flowers. Hermione was amazed. How had he brought in so much money from dancers?

They entered a large room on one side of the hallway. It was stuffed with comfortable-looking chairs and couches. A mini-bar, fully stocked, was in one corner. Ten women were sprawled about the room, chatting and looking relaxed.

"Girls," Ron said loudly. All ten of them stopped what they were doing and looked up. "This is the new girl, Hermione. Make her welcome." And he left.

Hermione was terrified.

One of the girls stood up. "Hi," she said warmly, holding out her hand. "I'm Susan. Your name is Hermione?"

She nodded.

"She'll need a stage name, then," a spiteful voice said. Hermione spun around to see the two girls who had brought her to Ron's office.

"How about Tiffany?" one suggested.

"No," the other replied. "We've had a Tiffany. Christy? Kirsten?"

As the two girls continued to debate her name, Susan pulled Hermione away. "Parvati and Lavender," she said. "Spiteful, catty, petty bitches. Come meet the other girls." She followed Susan over to a little circle of armchairs. Each one held one of the dancers; some were older than Hermione, most the same age, though none seemed to be younger.

"This is Fleur," Susan was saying. "And Cho, Hannah, Blaise, Angelica, Alicia, and Katie."

"Hi," Hermione said timidly.

"Sit down," Hannah said. "We don't have anything to do until tonight. There's no rehearsal."

"Oh!" Cho exclaimed. "Are we supposed to teach her the dance for tonight?"

"She's probably just supposed to watch for the first week," Blaise said. "That's what I did when I came."

"Did Ron tell you what you were supposed to do for tonight?" Angelina asked Hermione.

She shook her head. "He barely said six words to me," she said. "And he told me to speak up. But that was it."

Angelina nodded. "He doesn't usually say that much to us. If he does...well..." the other girls tittered, and Angelina gave Hermione a look as though she should have known what she was talking about. She didn't, of course, and therefore settled for blinking, bewildered, at Angelina.

"Oh, don't act so innocent." Parvati and Lavender had decided to join them. It was Lavender who had spoken. "Oh, and by the way, we've picked a stage name for you..."

"Kitty," Parvati said.

Hermione decided to ignore the comment about her name. "What do you mean, don't act so innocent?" she asked.

"Hermione, honey--or should I say Kitty?" Parvati smirked. "We are what are commonly referred to as 'whores.'"

Hermione went white. "You have to be joking," she whispered. "My parents...they would never...if they knew..."

The other girls stared at her. "You didn't know?" Alicia asked. "Oh my God..."

Katie got up and went over to hug her. "The same thing happened to me," she said softly. "My mother died when I was little, and my father never really cared about me very much." She looked grimly at the younger girl. "It hurts, doesn't it?"

Hermione burst into tears. Katie glared up at Parvati and Lavender.

"Oops?" Lavender said innocently. They both burst into high-pitched giggles and sauntered off to the other side of the room.

"Bitches," several of the other girls muttered.

"I bet they're proud that they get screwed the most," Blaise sneered. "And by old, fat, horny, bald rich men, too."

Even through her tears Hermione managed a weak laugh.

"Go on, say it," Katie said. "They're bitches. It's a fact."

Hermione shook her head. "I--I couldn't--"

"Honey, you're one of us now," Hannah said. "And you'll never survive if you don't try not to be so innocent."

Hermione dried her tears. She knew reason when she heard it. "You're right," she said, glaring over at Parvati and Lavender. "Bitches," she finally said, vehemently. "Bitches, the both of them."

In that moment, Hermione changed. It would be years before she could define exactly how, but when she did, the answer was quite simple: she'd lost her innocence. She was no longer the sweet little Girl Next Door, and she never would be again.

The rest of the afternoon progressed quickly, and that night, Hermione watched as, scantily clad, the other girls paraded around the stage of the Jezebel cabaret, flaunting themselves in front of many balding, middle-aged, paunchy men.

Afterwards, Susan pulled Hermione aside. "I want to warn you," she said. "At some point tonight, sometime before the workers start getting up, Ron will send for you. He'll expect you to come to his room and...ah...put out for him. I know it'll be hard, but we've all gone through it, and we've lived. Yes, you'll feel horrible and dirty afterwards. But you come find any one of us--and that doesn't include Parvati and Lavender--and we'll be there for you, okay?"

Hermione, though shocked and horrified by what she had just been told, nodded and hugged her new friend. "Thank you, Susan," she said. She pulled back. "You know, I think you're the first real friend I've ever had. Thank you."

Susan smiled at her. "Anytime, Hermione," she said. "Anytime."

And, just as Susan had said he would, Ron sent for her that night. She'd been put into temporary quarters until her rooms could be fitted out properly. She left the small sitting room she'd been in when the call came and followed a tall, heavily muscled man down a maze of hallways until she was totally lost. Hermione got the impression that was the idea.

Ron was waiting in the sitting room of his chambers, sipping sparkling champagne out of an elegant crystal goblet. "Something to drink, Hermione?" he said, waving the guard away. "Sit down."

She nodded, and watched as he poured another crystal class of the sparkling white-clear liquid.

"I suppose the girls have already told you what you're here for?" he asked casually as he handed her the drink. She nodded again. "Good. It would be...awkward, to say the least, if I had to explain it to you."

He made small talk for the next half hour or so, taking small sips of his champagne every few minutes. When his glass was empty, he set it on the table next to him and motioned for her to do the same. "Come here," he said, and Hermione had no choice but to obey.

Ron settled her onto his lap. "Has anyone ever told you how very pretty you are?" he murmured into her hair. She could feel his hands, warm and dry, inching their way up the back of her shirt.

"No," Hermione whispered, trying not to shudder at his touch.

"Because you are, you know..." he tilted her face up to his for a kiss, and Hermione resigned herself to the inevitable.

She awoke the next morning in a massive four-poster bed. She was confused for a moment until she looked up slightly and saw her new boss' red hair. It all came back in a rush, and she closed her eyes to hold back the tears that were threatening, rather violently, to overflow.

Ron's arm was wrapped around her waist, pulling her close to him. She was even more shocked when she realized that until she'd awoken, she'd been snuggled up against his chest. Horrified at herself, she slipped out from under his arm and slid out of the bed, glancing around for something to cover herself with. Her clothes were nowhere to be seen, but on a chair next to an ornate wardrobe was a deep purple robe with, oddly enough, her name embroidered on it in gold.

"Good morning," said a voice from behind her as she tied the robe's belt around her waist. Hermione gasped and whirled around. Ron was, obviously, quite awake. He was propped up one elbow, watching her very carefully. "Do you like your robe?"

Hermione could only nod. How could he have known her favorite colors?

He smiled gently at her. "You know, it wouldn't hurt you to use your vocal cords once in awhile," he said. "From what I've heard of it, you have a very pretty voice."

"Sorry," Hermione said, flushing. "Yes...I love it. How did you know my favorite colors?"

"When the maids put your things away, they looked for the colors that recurred the most often and told me. I had the robe made in those colors." He patted the mattress beside him. "Come sit down," he said, and when Hermione hesitated, he added, "I won't do anything to you."

She walked over and sat down, drawing her feet up underneath her. As she did so, Ron reached for his own sky-blue robe, which was flung across the end of the bed. He wrapped it around himself and sat up. "Would you like some breakfast?" he asked. "I can have something sent up."

"Chocolate-chip pancakes would be wonderful," she admitted, wondering inwardly why she was being so kind to this man who, only hours before, had robbed her of her virginity. She watched as Ron picked up the phone on the bedside table. "Have two plates of chocolate-chip pancakes and two coffees sent to my room," he said into it. "Fifteen minutes." and he hung up.

You know, I don't think I've hear him say 'please' or 'thank you' once since I got here, Hermione thought to herself. But somehow, even though this man was the rudest, most coldhearted person she'd ever met, something about him attracted her to him, made her want to like him.

Their food arrived just then, and Hermione gave up trying to make sense of her feelings and concentrated instead on her pancakes.

"Now," Ron said when he'd finished, "I have a meeting to go to. Can you find your way back to the main room?"

"Yes," Hermione said, even though she wasn't sure she could.

Ron nodded. "Good. I'll see you later." he disappeared into a side room, presumably to get dressed.

Sighing, Hermione also left. She went back to her room, where she pulled on a long, swishy purple skirt and a gray tank top before going to the main room. Glancing at her watch, she realized it was only 8:00--no wonder she hadn't seen anyone.

There was only one person in the main room when Hermione finally found it. Susan got up from her chair, where she'd been curled up reading, and ran over to hug her friend. "Are you all right?" she asked softly.

Hermione nodded. "As well as I can be, considering the circumstances," she said, sitting down herself. "It's odd--something about him--"

"Forces you to like him?" Susan nodded. "I know. He seems extremely...trustworthy isn't the right word, but it's close enough. I think that's why he's so good at what he does."

"Yeah..." Hermione replied, gazing off past Susan.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Susan asked.

Hermione snapped back to reality and smiled at her. "No. But I will be."

"Promise you'll tell me if something is wrong?"

Hermione smiled and hugged her. "Of course. But let's talk about something more cheerful, hmm?"

Susan laughed. "All right. Ooh, I've an idea--wanna see if we can get the day off and go shop?"

"Okay!"

So, after finding one of Ron's many 'second-in-commands' and getting permission from him to leave, the two girls headed out on the town.