Saint Serita

Chapter Three

Whatever Draco had been expecting, what appeared in his mind as he tried to Apparate across the door was not what he thought a Malfoy-run harem would look like, especially knowing Lucius's penchant for neatness and order. It was a poorly lit room, from what he could tell, and bottles of firewhiskey littered the ground, which seemed caked in dust. He tried to force the image of a grand bed into his mind, knowing that's what his father would love, but when he managed to do that, the scene suddenly switched to a soft-lit place, one with upright bottles of cognac, sherry, and champagne, all bubbling. Confused, Draco decided to focus on the darker aspect, the one that had first come to him.

When he next opened his eyes, he found his father's "closet" door behind him. A corridor stretched before him. The dim setting reminded Draco of the dungeons at Hogwarts. Feeble light danced from the torches snug in their brackets. Eerie shadows criss-crossed the rough walls. Taking a few steps forward, Draco saw a row of doors on the right hand side. In contrast with the poor construction of the corridor, they were of finely polished and painted wood. Golden nameplates were nailed to the doors. He read them aloud.

"Avery. Nott. Pettigrew. Lestrange. Malfoy?"

Draco ignored the rest of the doors and focused on the room designated for his father. So this is where that sumptuous bed I imagined is located, he thought. But I'm not here to for his rooms. Where are the whores, I wonder? He did not have to wait long for the answer.

"Is that Lucius?" someone behind him whispered. "He never comes during the - "

Draco turned around. He stared. A padlocked metal cage sat in front of him. It was certainly spacious but not very comfortable. A group of ragged girls were clutching the cage, goggling at him, amazement and confusion written in their faces. There were a few of them still seated on the floor, but more and more of them got up to examine their visitor.

"No, that's definitely not Lucius, Marissa," a second girl said, staring back at him.

"Are you sure? He looks so much like Lucius. Then what's he doing here? How'd he get in?"

"Who are you?" someone else asked.

"I'm Draco Malfoy. I'm Lucius Malfoy's son. What're you all doing here?" he asked, deciding to play ignorant.

"We're his whores," the girl named Marissa replied matter-of-factly.

"My father keeps whores," Draco muttered to himself, hoping the shadow concealed his malevolent grin.

"That's right."

"And where did you come from?"

"Well, me, he picked off the street," Marissa continued. "I was just walking alone at night, and these men attack me, gag me, and break my wand. Next thing I know I was lying naked on a bed with some bastard on top of me. No offense, of course, to your father."

"The rest of you...did you come from the streets as well? How old are you?" Draco asked, now genuinely interested.

"Some of us are from the streets," the second girl said, her eyes still fixed on him. He could sense her mind working, and for some reason, it put him off guard. "Others...we fought for Harry Potter and Dumbledore, but when Harry died - " She paused " - when he died, the Death Eaters took everyone they could find as prisoners. Everyone knows that, right, Draco?"

There was something oddly familiar about the girl. He nodded. "It was in the papers."

"More like your father told you," she snapped. Insulted, Draco plunged his hand into his pocket and pulled out his wand. "Oh, go ahead and kill me for hurting your pride and independence. You'll just never hear the full story from me."

"Fine," he admitted bitterly, putting his wand away.

"The prisoners...they put us all in Azkaban, which was now being used as a headquarters for the Death Eaters and Voldemort. They took away our wands." Draco saw several of the girls cringe. Apparently, addressing the Dark Lord as "You-Know-Who" was still popular. "The dementors drove us mad," she whispered, clinging tighter to the cage. "The Death Eaters came in one day, and they took the men away..."

She closed her eyes, and Draco saw tears running down her face. She collapsed to the ground, sobbing angrily.

"Poor thing," someone murmured, reaching down to comfort the shaking figure. "She isn't over it yet."

"Over what?"

"You never heard? Oh, I guess this sort of thing was just too sensitive to publish, then. Well, the Death Eaters - they tortured..."

The girl, her cheeks shining with glittering tears, suddenly stormed to her feet, pointing an incriminating finger at Draco, who doubled back.

"The Death Eaters tortured them until they couldn't even think!" she screamed, spitting with rage. "Until the only thing they could do was lie on a bed and stare at the ceiling! YOUR FATHER TORTURED HIM INTO INSANITY!"

"What? Who's 'him'?" Draco interrupted, glaring at the girl.

"HE DID! HE TOLD ME THE VERY FIRST TIME HE TOOK ME TO HIS BED!"

"Who's 'him'?" Draco repeated, surreally calm.

"RON! MY RON IS LYING IN ST. MUNGO'S BECAUSE LUCIUS MALFOY'S A MURDERING LITTLE BAS - "

Marissa clamped her hand over the girl's mouth as she sank to the ground again, crying and moaning. Within an instant, she threw Marissa's hand aside and looked up at Draco again, hiccupping between her sobs. She couldn't be, he thought, horrified. She couldn't be -

"That's right, Malfoy," she spat, eyeing his face. "I know what you want to ask me. You know who I am, and I know who you are. I'm Hermione Granger, and your father all but killed my Ron."