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FanfictionExchange 2025 Whump-Fluff-Kink-OC-Tober Challenge
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2025-09-10
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2025-11-27
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2/?
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The Benefits of Muggle Trafficking

Summary:

“Please…” It was now at least at the volume of a whisper, enough to be heard, understood as his black eyes widened more. “Help me…”

“You’re…” he cast his eyes down at where her hand held him in place, “…not supposed to be awake.” His eyes drifted back up to hers. “That spell should have lasted the duration of the night.” He squinted ever so slightly before raising the wooden stick in his hand. “How did you break free?” His eyes searched her face. “They always check for magic first. How?…”

Wands. Muggles. Squibs…magic. All foreign to Eileen…and yet, somehow, familiar, like a book gathering dust and cobwebs somewhere in the back of her memory. And now she finds herself suspended, caught between familiar and strange as she discovers three truths.

1. Magic is real.
2. She definitely doesn’t belong in that world.
3. To some, she doesn’t even count as human.

That third truth is now about to get her killed.

Notes:

I would like to thank my husband for giving me the most excellent idea that led to this fic's creation.

r/FanfictionExchange | Whumptober 2025 Challenge | Prompt: Human Trafficking

Chapter 1: The Cage

Chapter Text

October 22nd, 1980

 

“Going once. Going twice. Sold to the wizard in the blue hat.”

Eileen Farlow of 35 High Street in Camden, London stirred from whatever dream she had been having. A voice, that seemed to swirl in her periphery, was becoming a lot clearer, closer. 

“Up next will be number sixty-three.”

She could feel herself returning to her bones, but there was a heaviness to her as if she were buried under a hundred blankets. Even her thoughts felt heavy and sluggish as she tried to pull together a singular thought. 

‘Where am I?’ 

More voices emerged around her and, although they felt farther away, they were an unintelligible cacophony; too many to distinguish one over the other. Amidst the noise was the delicate sound of music, strings weaving their way through the voices. 

‘I remember…being at the cemetery…’ 

There was one voice that rang out louder than the others, a man’s voice, but it sounded distorted somehow, unnatural.

“Number sixty-three will begin in five minutes.”

‘Joe and Kathy had left me. They didn’t like the ouija board.’ 

Though it felt like her eyelids were sealed shut with wrought iron, she slowly began opening them. The lighting from where she was was relatively dim, but it felt near blinding for a couple of seconds. From those precious few seconds, it was very obvious that she was no longer in the cemetery. 

‘I’m…not outside anymore. I’m inside…somewhere. But I don’t remember leaving.’

She tried to move her fingers, but they seemed to be as unresponsive as the rest of her body. 

‘But where is my body? Where am I? Why can’t I move?’

She could feel her fishnet gloves weave through her fingers and up her arms, holding taut against her biceps. Her ripped black jeans clung to her hips, gravity pulling them downwards with only her studded belt keeping them secure. 

‘I don’t think I’m lying down. I don’t feel…anything.’

There was a slight breeze that caused her Black Sabbath shirt to wave slightly, the wings of the angels on the shirt fluttering with the motion. Her black, leather, combat boots hung heavily, though she could feel no surface anywhere around her. 

‘I’m upright…I think, but what is holding me up?’

Eileen slowly opened her sage-colored eyes once more and blinked away the brightness until the source of the soft light came into focus, candles. 

‘Floating candles…through bars.’ 

Her eyes widened slightly as metal bar after metal bar also came into focus, surrounding her entire periphery. 

‘I’m in a…cage!’

As her heart began to race, more around her came into view. She was in a large room. Lush, red curtains against tall black windows. Reflective marble floor. Oriental rugs overlayed under plush, couches and sofas and chairs. Silver food platters on dark wooden tables. Crystal glasses and tall bottles with bubbling liquid. And candles that seemed to float on their own, lots and lots of candles

But above all else, there were people. Many, in fact. The women were wearing elegant dresses with jewels and perfectly coiffed hair. The men wore suits, but unlike anything Eileen had ever seen. The suits were older, more regal. Some of the older looking people in the room even wore long, dark robes with pointed hats, their hair erratic and frayed. There were so many people here, but none of them appeared to be looking at her. 

With a great amount of effort and straining, Eileen turned her head to the side to get a better view around her and let out a muted gasp. She wasn’t alone in this cage. In a row next to her were three other people. Their bodies were suspended up in the air, though Eileen couldn’t tell how, and their heads hung down, eyes shut. 

‘Am I?…’ 

She shifted her gaze downwards and saw that her boots also dangled a couple centimeters off the wooden platform. 

“We will start the bidding on item number sixty-three.”

The distorted voice was back, coming in from an open doorway that led into another room. 

‘Am I…at an auction?’ 

Several people left this room to go into the one with the voice and once the room cleared out some, Eileen finally saw where the music was coming from; it was a group of musicians on the other side of the room from her that were playing instruments she had never seen before. 

“Number sixty-three is a set of triplet baby nifflers inside an enchanted gilded cage. We will start the bidding off at three thousand galleons.”

An empty silver platter passed in front of Eileen and, for a brief moment, she thought it was also floating, until she saw small, elongated feet scamper underneath it. Once it was further away, she could finally see legs and a body attached to said feet as well as gangly arms and hands that held the platter above its oversized head. This creature wore nothing but a dirty rice sack that clung limply against its frail looking body. Its long, pointed ears were crushed under the weight of the silver it carried. 

Like everything else in the room, it paid her no mind and continued its way through until it reached a swaying door near where the musicians played. As she followed its progress, she became aware of other platters and other similar creatures that carried them, weaving their way to and fro in the room. Some carried bottles and goblets; others platters of food. There were even ones that carried heavy objects or simple pieces of parchment. None of them came close to the people that were talking to each other and if anyone crossed their path, they yielded immediately, giving a wide berth. 

‘What…is going on?…’

She turned her head to look at the man next to her once more. 

‘A dock worker…I think. At least he looks like one. Galoshes and a watch cap.’ 

The woman next to him was in a short red dress and heels, her heavy makeup was smeared and her straight blonde hair stuck out awkwardly to the side. 

At the end of the line looked to be an old man that was at least double her size around. His jaw hung unceremoniously against his neck, creating a wall of flesh that resembled a second chin. Although his clothes didn’t appear to be tattered, they did look a little ratty and unkempt.

Eileen’s gaze fell back on the dock worker next to her and she summoned what she could of her own voice. 

“Hey!”

It was soft, below even a whisper, but it still held all the panic that reverberated through her being. Even with the urgency of her call, the man did not stir in any capacity. She looked about and made sure no one was nearby before she whispered her plea to him once more, still he did not move. 

‘Need to…move…’

She focused on the man’s arm near her right hand and reached forward, though it felt like she was reaching through mud instead of air. Her hand hit the man’s arm, but before her fingers were able to grab hold of his tweed jacket, his entire body shifted with the momentum and drifted into the woman on the other side of him. 

A yell echoed through the tall-ceilinged room, disturbing the soft conversation and chipper music. 

“Oy, we got a live one.” 

Eileen quietly closed her eyes and allowed her arm to slowly fall back in place so she mirrored the others. She held her ragged breathing as two male voices with heavy cockney accents invaded the space just in front of the bars, her cage. 

“‘E moved. I swear on me mum.” 

There was some rustling of fabric before the second voice spoke. 

“‘Ey, scum. Ye thought you could sneak one on us?” 

Eileen braced for something to happen to her; a grab, a push, something, anything. 

“Depulso,” the second voice said with a sneer as a brush of fabric flew past her arm, causing a shiver to run up her spine. Metal clanged and there was a large thud of flesh. 

“Carpe retractum,” Then there was another clang of metal and flesh in front of her as the air shifted to her right. 

“Depul–”

“Oy, Bernie,” the first one interrupted. “I reckon this wretch is still out cold. 

“‘Ey?” There was some more shifting of fabric and a soft clang of metal. “‘Supposing you’re right,” the second voice mused. “Guessing it was just a bit of a draft.” They both chuckled as Eileen still held her breath, her lungs screaming for air. 

“Let’s go tell the missus that ‘es going to be worth less being damaged goods and all,” the first one joked as they continued laughing. 

Their footsteps and laughter slowly receded as Eileen opened her eyes once more, taking in a frantic breath. As soon as she saw the dock worker next to her though, the air her lungs so desperately craved evacuated completely. 

He was more or less in the same position he had been in before, but now his face was covered in bruising that was roughly located at about the same distance apart as the metal bars they were caged in. His nose looked bashed in and was bleeding down his face and onto his clothes. The back of his head was slick as well, red liquid oozing down his hair and onto his watch cap that now lay on the platform below. 

‘I need to get the fuck outta here!’ she screamed to herself as her eyes frantically looked forward. ‘Help! I need help!’

As chance would have it, a young man with dark hair and an equally dark cloak stopped just before the cage and pulled out some parchment. 

“I’m sure it was supposed to be around here.” His voice was deep and his piercing eyes scoured the paper before him before he glanced up once more. “Maybe it’ll be in the library. It wasn’t supposed to be up until later.” 

He pivoted slightly and was about to walk away, when Eileen lunged her arm forward and grabbed hold of his cloak, making sure her fingers held on tight this time. 

Once the young man was taut and he realized he had been stopped by something or someone, he whipped around and pulled out a wooden stick, aiming it in her general direction. Wide, black eyes met even wider, sage ones and there was a pause where neither moved nor spoke. 

‘He hasn’t hurt me. Maybe…’ 

She mustered the sound of her voice and willed it to work.

“Please…” It was now at least at the volume of a whisper, enough to be heard, understood as his black eyes widened more. “Help me…”

“You’re…” he cast his eyes down at where her hand held him in place, “…not supposed to be awake.” His eyes drifted back up to hers. “That spell should have lasted the duration of the night.” He squinted ever so slightly before raising the wooden stick in his hand. “How did you break free?” His eyes searched her face. “They always check for magic first. How?…”

Eileen’s sage eyes drifted over to the stick he carried. 

‘She kept them in a locked box, under that loose floorboard in her bedroom. Two…just like that one.’

A gasp escaped her lips as that memory ebbed its way in. 

“Me mum had one,” she said quickly as she gestured her head towards the stick he held. She frantically tried to recall more, but the memory faded just as fast as she could get her words out. 

His dark, cold eyes relaxed to a cool charcoal as recognition washed over him and he lowered the stick. 

‘Wand. I think it’s a wand.’ 

She held his eyes with hers until he finally spoke. 

“Squib.”

The word held loosely in the back of her brain as memory teased her with its familiarity. 

“I’m sorry,” he nearly mumbled as he straightened, now towering over her, even with her elevation. “I can’t help you.” He tried to back away, but she held tightly to the thick fabric of his cloak. 

“Where am I?” she pleaded, her voice ebbing slightly above a whisper. 

He stared back down at her, the coolness of his eyes searching, looking for something she wasn’t able to say. 

“I…” he mumbled out, his voice rumbling deep in his chest. “You’re at a dark wizard auction.” 

Her eyes now searched his.

‘I know all those words individually, but none of it makes sense together.’

He coughed and his eyes drifted away. 

“You’re up for bid and will be sold to the highest bidder.”

He turned his body and moved to free himself from her grip, but she used all her strength to hold on tighter. The jolt of motion caused one of her ginger curls to fall in front of her face. 

“What’s your name?” Her voice was soft and kind as sage held his form, locking him to his spot. His black eyes turned to her, now dark as a starless night, but he wouldn’t meet her gaze. 

“Severus…Snape.” He swallowed hard. “Now I really must–”

“My name’s Eileen,” she interjected as she gave him a warm smile. “Eileen Farlow.”

As she said her name, his eyes widened and his jaw dropped slightly. Footsteps echoed nearby as female voices chattered closer and closer. His starless black finally met her sage and held there for a moment longer before he turned himself about in a fluid manner that wouldn’t catch anyone else’s attention. He took a step back until his shoulders rested against the bars just as the female voices were walking past. 

He was tall enough and his cloak was wide enough that she couldn’t really see anyone else in the room, nor could they really see her. Severus bowed his head slightly as three ladies in elegant dresses walked past, paying him, and subsequently her, no mind. 

“I am sorry…Eileen,” he said in a low voice once enough time had passed. “…but there’s nothing I can really do to help you.” 

She gulped as she stared up at him, his long black hair was all of him that she could really see. He remained where he stood as she exhaled a shaky breath.

“What…what do they want with me anyways?” 

The man who couldn’t be much older than herself tipped his head back up and turned, so that charcoal met sage once more. Just as quickly he looked back out to the room. 

“They think you are a muggle, a non magic person,” he quietly said. 

The word “muggle” jostled about in her brain as it collided with the word “squib”, a familiarity to both that she couldn’t quite fit into a recognized thought. 

“The Dark Lord has permitted the kidnapping and selling of muggles at auctions like these.” 

He pulled out his parchment and looked down at it as if studying it before he continued talking. 

“Muggle trafficking is a lucrative business. They are usually purchased for a lot of reasons; sometimes as food for their more exotic pets or cheap labor if they can’t afford another house elf. I’ve even heard of them being purchased to test out spells and potions.”

A shudder vibrated up her spine and through each and every one of her bones as she glanced at the people to her right. 

‘The dock worker, the hooker, and the old man…they’re going to be…’

“And then some…” His deep voice pulled her back to him. “…are purchased for…” He paused for a moment as his head tipped down. “…entertainment.”

The word lingered between them, unsaid, but understood. She could hear the voices of the other people in the room. Dishes clanked. Bottles popped open. Music serenaded the very air. 

‘They don’t…consider me human, do they?’ 

Her eyebrows scrunched as a question wormed its way through to the surface. “How do you know all this?”

“I know because…” He took a hard swallow. “I’m one of them.”

Her breath hitched slightly as her entire body tried and failed to free itself from its invisible confines. Though her hand was now shaking, he continued on, seemingly not noticing the slight shift of her movement on his cloak. 

“I was only here tonight to buy graphorn horn. I need it for a potion and these auctions are one of the few places I can get them.” He turned once more and looked at her, pity etched across his young face. “I’m sorry, Eileen. I can’t free you. I barely have enough to–”

“Please, Severus.” Her voice hitched up slightly as a new wave of panic took hold. “Don’t let them do that to me.” 

“I can’t…” His eyes widened as he turned his body to face her.  “I can’t help you.” There was a desperation in his own voice before he quickly looked left and right. “I’m not supposed to and I…I barely have enough for…” His shoulders tightened as he exhaled and in a controlled voice, he said, “I can’t…help you, Eileen.”

A tear ran down her cheek, then one more on the other as they fell down her pale face and onto her immobile body. 

“They are going to kill me, Severus,” she pleaded as she stared into dark, cold eyes. “I don’t…” One more tear and then another. “I don’t want to die.”

The cold blackness of his eyes searched her warm sage ones one last time, before he reached in and tucked her one loose curl behind her ear. He raised his other hand, the wand pointing towards her chest. 

“Stupify,” he said in a low voice as the very wind knocked itself from her lungs and everything around her faded to black. 

Chapter 2: The Highest Bid

Summary:

👩🏻‍🦰⛓️🧙🧙‍♂️💰

Chapter Text

“Rennervate.” 

The voice was booming in Eileen’s ears, but familiar. It was loud, but so was every other noise in the room; chatter from many people all at once, glass dishes and goblets clanking, and feet pattering this way and that on a hard floor. And when she opened her eyes, they were once again blinded by the candlelight around her. 

After her eyes adjusted, she was still in a cage, but this one was smaller and only she was in it this time. She was near a fireplace, the heat of it burning her back. She tried to move away from the uncomfortable sensation, but her body still felt suspended in place.

The rest of the room was large, smaller than the previous room, but still big enough to hold several plush, ivory couches and teak, high back chairs, all of which faced her and were subsequently filled, but none of its occupants were particularly looking at her. The same pretty women and distinguished gentleman occupied these seats with several of the ones wearing pointy hats and robes smattered throughout. 

‘Dark wizard auction, he called it. These people must be dark wizards and witches, right? I think…I think that sounds right.’ 

A musical stringed aria floated in the air and permeated the room with a sereneness that felt out of place behind her metal bars. From where she was though, she could see them through the room’s door and well into the next room. It was the same musicians she had seen before, but now she was at a much different angle. 

“Finite,” the loud voice said and Eileen dropped completely from her suspension. The weight of her bones returned to her as she lay on the floor of the cage for a moment. When she could move more easily, she glanced up at the owner of the voice. He was a larger, heavyset man with a bushy mustache and even bushier brows. The spectacles on his eyes only magnified the faded, gray irises underneath. He wore a very nice looking brown suit that seemed to be tailored to his mass. 

The man lowered his wand away from her and toward his side. He was muttering something as he was shuffling through several papers and scrolls on top of a podium. Small beads of sweat began appearing on his forehead as he continued looking.

Eileen shifted and began to pull herself up from the floor of the cage. Her limbs felt both wobbly and frail at the same time. She held onto the bars and they clanged slightly with the effort. Still no one looked at her. Eileen quickly scanned the room, but the young man she had talked to wasn’t there. 

‘He didn’t save me. Severus…he never came back for me…’

A slim, older woman in a long black dress on one of the front couches shifted in her seat.

“Get on with it, Ashcroft,” she said with authority. Her sharp face looked at him with even sharper eyes. “I have other bids to go to.” 

The portly man nervously nodded as he shoved several of the papers off to the side of the podium.

“I’m so sorry for inconveniencing you, Mrs. Black.” 

She didn’t acknowledge him. She simply patted her gray hair, which was wound tight into a bun, then readjusted a black veil that obscured part of her face. 

“Thank you for hosting this time around,” Ashcroft continued as his hands fidgeted together, still clutching his wand. “Please thank Cassiopeia for allowing us to use her estate.”

Mrs. Black simply waved him off before she fixed one of her black lace gloves. As she did, her eyes briefly fell on Eileen. She looked her up and down and, for a moment, her sharp eyes softened. 

Ashcroft raised his wand to his throat and began to speak, his voice booming through the room once more. “We will begin the bidding on the last item of the room momentarily, number sixty-nine.” He lowered his wand and began getting his papers in order. 

The room slowly began to quiet down and was replaced with a centralized focus on the cage at the front of the room. Eileen watched as all their eyes met hers, but never lingered there. Instead they looked at every attribute of hers, every conceivable aspect of her person that could be useful. 

‘All these eyes, all these people and none of them will look at me.’ 

Eileen could feel something begin to well into her chest, a burning. She was used to the stares, used to being gawked at. She had survived plenty of it during her schooling days in Camden and being the only metalhead in her year had steeled her nerves. Now, as the refined women and distinguished gentleman stared, Eilleen stared right back. With the warmth that her anger gave her, that pinprick of panic from before began to settle in once again when she remembered what he had said.

‘People are usually purchased as food for pets, cheap labor, or to test out potions.’ Even as she thought it, she could hear those words being bounced around as whispers…and more; words that made her spine want to shudder from their implications. And still she stared.

“We will start the bidding on item number sixty-nine.” The room fell to complete silence as Ashcroft pulled a piece of paper forward. “Number sixty-nine is a young, muggle woman–”

“Eileen,” she interjected loudly, though it hurt her throat to do so. The burning in her chest bloomed as several onlookers gave her incredulous and affronted looks. 

‘These people are used to their victims’ fears and confusion. They will get none from me.’

She gripped the bars until her hands turned white. “My name is Eileen and what you are doing is really fucked up! I am a person and–”

“Silencio,” Ashcroft’s voice boomed slightly as he pointed his wand in her direction. 

Within the blink of an eye, Eileen’s voice instantly gave out, and though she tried to scream, nothing came of it. It didn’t matter how hard she tried, she had been completely silenced. 

Ashcroft’s face turned a slight shade of pink before he turned back to the crowd. “My apologies, fellow witches and wizards.” He cleared his throat and smiled. “It looks like we have quite the lively one.” He gave a good laugh and several of the faces in the crowd lightened. “Number sixty-nine was found…” his eyes glanced down at the paper in front of him, “in a…graveyard, I believe?” He looked up and into the crowd. “Isn’t that right, Bernie?” 

Eileen’s eyes instantly flashed up and back to where Ashcroft was looking. ‘That was the one who hurt the dockworker next to me.’ 

“‘Oy, that’s right, old chap,” came the same voice that she had heard not that long ago.

She finally spotted him leaning against the doorway to the room. There was a small flicker of recognition, but as soon as it had cropped up, it was gone.

The man wore dirty and ripped denim jeans, a muted flannel, and a patched-up denim jacket. He slicked back his greasy looking brown mullet before standing up straight and smiling. With that smile, Eileen felt her entire stomach drop as she finally remembered him.

‘I know that smile. I saw it the other night…’

His smile continued as he locked eyes on her and she felt fear chill her bones.

“Me an’ the boys had rigged a cuppla ‘em Ouija boards with summoning spells and put ‘em in some of them thrift stores.”

Eileen’s eyes widened as she gripped the bars tighter. ‘That’s where I found mine. It looked really old and I thought…I thought it would be fun.’

“Other night, the trap was triggered-like and we apparated to a cemetery where the skirt over there was waiting.”

A snarl began to form on her lips as her hands began to shake. ‘I remember that smile in the dark. He and the others appeared from out of nowhere. I thought…’ 

“Too bad your mates left ya. We coulda snatched them up too.”

The painful bloom of heat in her chest exploded and she hit the metal bars as hard as she could with her fist, which startled several of the people sitting closer to the front. 

“Petrificus Totalus,” Ashcroft said with a flick of his wand as he set a new sheet of paper in front of him, barely looking up at her as he did so. 

Eileen’s entire body went rigid, as if she had been frozen in a block of ice. The sensation was similar to what she had felt earlier when she was suspended in the air, but she was able to break free of it then. This felt tighter, more restrictive. Now all she could do was look on with her green eyes as they glared. 

“Number sixty-nine is definitely a lively one,” Ashcroft said with a laugh, lightening the mood in the room slightly. “And she thinks herself a witch. How quaint.” Several people in the audience laughed with him at this. “She was trying to summon something. Looks like she got her wish.” More people laughed and the room lightened back to its original state. 

Eileen’s eyes strained, but they turned to look at Ashcroft. She glared at this man, this wizard, with every ounce of hate she could muster.

‘That had been my wish,’ she seethed in her mind. ‘Everything around me had been so mundane, so boring, but I knew there had to be more out there. I always felt the pull, wanted more. I tried everything. Crystals, tarot, even went to haunted places. But…nothing, nothing ever happened.’ In her mind, she could see the full moon from the night before, the candles, the board and planchet. ‘I was warned it was dangerous to use an Ouija board, but nothing else had worked. When I saw them in the dark, I thought…I thought I would finally get to experience something extraordinary. In a fucked up way…I guess he was right.’

“We will start the bidding on item number sixty-nine then.” Ashcroft cleared his throat and his voice quickened. “The bidding will start at a thousand galleons. Will anyone take that bid?”

A hush remained over the crowd for a moment as Eileen’s eyes veered back to look out at her would be purchasers. There was a hesitancy there. ‘I’m a risk, too difficult, too wild. Good. They can all shove their pounds up their arseholes.’

“Come on, ladies and gentlemen. She is young, limber, and spirited. Should be a lot of fun to break.” He leaned forward and gave a smirk. “And she’s fairly easy on the eyes, if you catch my tone. Now, will anyone match that bid. I’m looking for a thousand galleons.” A wizard with long silvery-blonde hair raised his cane and the tone in the room shifted once more. “Ah, excellent. I hear one, now two. Will anyone bid two?” An older looking witch in a black hat raised her hand. “Now three. Will anyone bid three?” 

The bids kept increasing more and more and all Eileen could do was stare out as an excitement permeated the air of the room. 

‘Too much. It’s too much. These sick fucks are getting their rocks off of wanting to buy me. It’s fucking disgusting.’ Her limbs began to shake as the number kept getting higher and higher. ‘Why did I have to buy that board? Why did I have to know what’s beyond? Because beyond is Hell. I am in Hell. I wish…I wish I had listened to me mum.’ A small tear trickled down. ‘I wish I hadn’t left home. She was crying, pleading for me to stay.’ Another tear fell, staining the carpet below the cage. ‘Why didn’t I listen to her?’ 

“I raise the bid to fifteen,” came a deep voice from the entrance of the room that made Eileen’s eyes instantly widen. She finally saw Severus as he panted slightly, trying to catch his breath. He fully stepped into the room as several eyes glanced in his direction. 

‘H-he came…’ Eileen thought as another tear fell. 

“Excellent,” Ashcroft said with a smile. “We have a bid of fifteen. Will anyone raise it to sixteen?” 

Severus’ dark eyes finally rested on Eileen’s sage ones as a look of relief washed over his face.

“I raise it to twenty-five thousand galleons,” came a smooth voice from amidst the audience. The man with the long, silvery-blonde hair had his cane raised and a small smile graced his thin lips. Both he and Severus looked at each other for a moment, recognition on both their faces. 

“Well that is a most generous bid, Mr. Malfoy,” Ashcroft giddily replied as he beamed from ear to ear. “The bid stands at twenty-five. Do I hear twenty-six?” He looked in Severus’ direction. The look between the two men dissipated and Severus shook his head. “Twenty-six?” Ashcroft continued to ask the crowd, but no one else raised their hand. “I have twenty-five, going once. Going twice.” The air hung silent as Eileen held her breath glancing at the tall, dark man who had come to her rescue, but Severus would no longer meet her gaze. He simply stood near the entrance, head hung down. “Sold to Mr. Malfoy!”

With that final declaration, the crowd stood and began to disperse from the room. As they left, they continued their conversations, some in whispers, as they passed by Severus. One by one, the room grew quieter until all that was left was Severus, Mr. Malfoy, Ashcroft, and Bernie. The auctioneer gave Bernie a nod before compiling the paperwork in front of him and jotting a note down on the one that was on top. The hunter gave Eileen one last smirk before heading into the ballroom. 

Malfoy gave a satisfying smile to no one in particular before standing up and giving a warm gesture towards Severus. “Sorry about that, old friend,” he said with a sly tone. “I had no intention of outbidding you so thoroughly.” Severus gave him a polite smile, but said nothing in return. The other man walked over and clasped a hand on Severus’ shoulder as if they were old friends. 

‘Maybe…maybe they are…’ Eileen thought as she watched Severus’ posture soften some.

“All the other muggles had been bid up, you see,” continued the blonde-haired man as he gestured to her cage. “And we are in need of one at the manor.” Both men stared at her for a moment as a chill ran back up her spine.

‘If it’s Severus’ friend, how bad can he be, right?’ As the blonde-haired man stared at her, there was a coldness in his eyes that made her earlier fear creep back in. ‘Right?’ 

“Speaking of,” Malfoy’s pale blue eyes shifted back to Severus’, “Narcissa would love to have you over for tea tomorrow. She and little Draco miss you terribly.” Severus nodded and met his friend’s gaze. “And I have a few things that I would like to discuss with you,” Malfoy continued as he turned his friend about and they walked to the entrance. 

Once at the doorway, Severus gave his friend a small nod. “I will see you tomorrow then, Lucius.” His eyes flitted to Eileen for one moment before he turned and walked out the door and back into the ballroom. 

Malfoy’s eyes glanced in her direction as well before he sneered slightly, then he turned his attention to Ashcroft. “I am ready to pay out immediately if it is all the same to you, Monty,” he said as he walked down to the auctioneer, pulling out a heavy-looking sack from one of his pockets as he did. It clanged slightly when he set it atop of the podium between them. 

“It is quite a generous purchase, Lucius.” Ashcroft turned a paper around for Malfoy to look over and sign. The other man took a quill and dipped it in an old looking ink pot and signed the paper. “What will you use her for, if I may be so bold to ask?” 

Eileen’s eyes glanced from one man to the other as the same question played on repeat in her own head.

“Nothing so exciting, I’m afraid,” Malfoy said in a dismissive tone as he turned the paperwork back around. “I lost a few of my house elves last month and muggles are cheaper to purchase.”

Ashcroft nodded in return before sliding the bag of coins to his side of the podium. “And how are the croup dogs that you purchased fairing?”

Malfoy gave a curt smile. “Couldn’t ask for a better security system. They can never fully take the place of wards, of course,” he continued offhandedly. “But they have a nose for muggles and are very proactive in their duties.”

A chill ran up Eileen’s spine as he said this. ‘Severus had said he was one of them; dark witches and wizards, he said he was one of them.’

Ashcroft nodded some more as he collected the paperwork. “I’m happy our services for finding rare and contraband creatures continue to exceed expectations.” The portly man leaned forward and began to whisper, though Eileen could hear him perfectly clear. “And your other recent purchase? Is it suiting your needs?”

Malfoy gave a quick glance in Eileen’s direction before whispering as well. “Hopefully this purchase shall help alleviate some of the concerns I have.” He looked back at Ashcroft and straightened his posture. “If not, I shall be in touch.”

Ashcroft gave Eileen one last fleeting look before nodding and smiling at Malfoy. “Of course.” He turned his body to the fireplace that still crackled and blazed behind her. “If you are finished at the auction, you may leave through here if you wish.” He tucked the papers and scrolls under his arm, nodded one last time, and began to walk away. “A pleasure, as always, Lucius.” Then he too disappeared through the doorway.

Eileen stared in Malfoy’s direction until he eventually looked over at her, a disgust behind his pale blue eyes. He straightened his dark, high collared suit before walking over to the cage, her eyes tracking his movement as he did so. He cleared his throat before he did finally speak. 

“While I have your full and undivided attention, vermin,” he rested his hands on the handle of his staff, which was designed to look like a silver snake’s head, “I will lay down some ground rules before we leave.”

‘Vermin…’ Eileen’s eyes narrowed. ‘Is that all he thinks I am?’

Ignoring her disdain, he continued. “You will display proper etiquette at all times.” He leaned in slightly and Eileen could feel his breath lightly on her face. “You will speak only when spoken to. Other than this moment, you will not look directly at me…or my family. You will follow every order given. Any amount of talking back, shirking of your duties, or attempting to run away will be met with extreme consequences. Do I make myself clear?” He raised an eyebrow as he waited for her answer.

‘Fucking bastard has to know I can’t move,’ thought Eileen as all she could do was glare at him.

“Oh….right.” His lips curled up in a cruel smirk. “How inconsiderate of me.” He pulled on the silver serpent’s head and attached to it, hidden inside the cane, was a wand. With a flourish, he pointed the wand at the cage and uttered, “Rennervate.” 

All at once, she could feel every muscle in her body tingle, like the sensation of moving after limbs falling asleep. She instantly backed away from the cage door and put her hand over mouth.

“Stupid, fucking magic,” she whispered through her fingers, her eyes never once leaving his. 

His icy blue eyes narrowed for a moment. “Do I make myself clear?” he overly enunciated as he raised his wand ever so lightly. 

In Eileen’s mind, she heard the dock worker being slammed into the other cage over and over again. The image of his bloodied head forever haunting her. ‘I don’t know if he would do the same to me, but I can’t take that risk. Patience. I just have to be patient and look for an opening if one pops up.’ She slowly lowered her hand. “Yes, Mr. Malfoy…”

“Good, you know my name. Saves me the trouble.” A small, sly smile graced his lips. “It is nice to see that muggles aren’t all complete imbeciles.” He straightened himself, making himself appear taller. “From now on though, you will call me Master. Is that understood?” 

She looked away from his ice blue eyes and down to the wand that was pointed right at her. “Yes…Master.”

“Good,” he said as his smile widened a hair. He directed his wand to the locking mechanism on the cage. “Alohomora,” he articulated and a clicking sound could be heard in the mechanism before the cage door slowly swung open. 

Eileen stared at the open metal bars for a moment before glancing over to the door that led out into the ballroom. The sound of the musicians wafted above the chatter and clinking of dishes as the party continued. Inside this room though, it was nearly perfectly silent, save for the crackle of the fireplace behind her. In that brief moment, she could feel her muscles going rigid; not from any spell, but from her own fear. Her eyes darted back to Malfoy before dropping to the rug on the floor beneath him. 

“It is time to go,” Malfoy said with some level of annoyance as he resheathed his wand into the cane. “I have other matters to attend to.”

Eileen’s breath began to come out in ragged bursts. ‘If I go with him, I don’t know what will happen. What if he feeds me to a dragon or something? Or makes me drink a poisoned potion?’ Her heart beat picked up as her mind began to race with possibilities. ‘Or what if they’re cannibals and he eats me? Or…’ Her breath caught in her throat. ‘Or what if he’s going to abuse me…rape me?’ The very thought of it turned her stomach even though she hadn’t eaten anything in who knows how long. 

“Oh, honestly…” Malfoy said with a sneer as he reached in the cage, grabbed her arm, and yanked her out. Eileen tried to pull away, but his grip on her was stronger. He directed her over to the fireplace behind the cage before finally releasing her. 

Her eyes rested on the snake handle of his cane as she took a step away from him. 

“You can either do this voluntarily…” he warned as he tapped the head of the snake, “or I can make you dangle in the air by your ankles.”

Eileen could feel her heart beating louder and faster in her chest as the pulse of it rang in her ears. ‘That feeling…the weightlessness, not being able to move…it was awful. I don’t want to ever do that again.’ She took a hard gulp before stepping forward so she was standing right next to him. 

“Wise choice.” Malfoy turned slightly and grabbed a ceramic jar on top of the mantle. 

Eileen turned her eyes to the tall fireplace they stood in front of. It appeared to be made of some kind of black stone with dragons and scales carved into it. On either side of the mantle were two large, black dragon’s heads that had their mouths opened, as if they were about to breathe out the fire from the pit below them. 

Malfoy opened the jar and sprinkled some of the contents into his hand, which appeared to Eileen to be made up of powdery, green glitter. He set the jar back in its spot and threw the powder into the fireplace. 

Almost instantly, the red flames changed to green and shot up well above Malfoy’s height. The temperature in the room dropped as Eileen stared, her mouth hung lax in disbelief. 

“Malfoy manor,” her new owner enunciated perfectly before turning to face her. “You go first,” he ordered. 

“No, no, no,” she mumbled as her eyes widened and she shook her head. ‘Dragon’s breath! It looks like dragon’s breath! He’s going to burn me alive!’ 

“Pusillanimous filth,” he snapped before grabbing her arm again and dragging her into the fire with him.