ＴＥＭＰＴＡＴＩＯＮ （ｒ．ｂ．）

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴡᴏ

"Ok, so the Commanders usually start arriving once the sun goes down, we are expected to already be on the floor before then. Never want to keep a Commander waiting." Sapphire was twisting her head over her shoulder as she walked in front of me as she gave me a tour of Jezebel. I tried to keep up with her as I wobbled in my new heels I was given since arriving. I haven't walked in heels in forever, and it shows.

"This bodysuit is super uncomfortable," I say in response itching and trying to pull my bodysuit in any sort of way to relieve myself.

"Yeah, its old. All of our outfits are hand-me-downs. They don't make stuff like this anymore in Salazar," She responds. I stop walking.

"Wait are you telling me someone wore this skimpy little bodysuit before me?" I grimace. She sees me stop and stops as well turning around fully to face me. She just rolls her eyes at me.

"Chill, babe. The Martha's washed it. Now come on," She pulls my arm making me follow her to the main lobby and bar. I gape looking around at the abandoned hotel. Most of the hotel was run and worn down, except for the main floor and certain other floors that housed the rooms that could be rented out by the Commanders.

The main lobby hosted an array of tables, some placed in corners with drapes around them for more privacy as well as a bar at the end of the room that had a wall full of outlawed liquor lining it. The one boy that worked at Jezebel, Sapphire told me his name was Gideon, worked behind the bar during the nights.

"Now, some rules still apply here at Jezebel, one of them being no drinking the alcohol. If the Aunts catch you, you get punished and Carrow is not kind," Sapphire points to me as a warning. We've now stood rested at the bar, while Gideon stands behind it, washing glasses before the shift starts.

"What if a Commander asks you to drink?" I ask.

"That's the Catch-22. We are told to do anything and everything that the Commanders want us to do. So, if he asks you do it. Just be prepared to get a cattle rod in the stomach the next morning from Aunt Carrow," she tells me. I rub my side at the thought of the cattle prod hitting me, memories of the pain shoot in my head like the shot of electricity that blasts through the weapon.

I zone out, trying to control my breathing and trying to get rid of Aunt Dolores's smug face smiling down at me wishes me luck at my "new home."

"Given your past, I think you will have the experience needed to thrive at Jezebel don't you think, dear?" she sneered down at me.

"Hey," Sapphire snaps her fingers in my face, "Lost you there for a second,"

"Sorry," I say, "Just preparing myself for tonight,"

She looks at me with a pained expression. I immediately close off and feel annoyed. I didn't need anyone's pity. We both got stuck here, wallowing in our self-pity does nothing for us.

"Listen. This place takes some getting you used to, but you'll get there. We all do," She says as some sort of way to comfort me. I give her a small smile in response and a nod hoping she will let the topic drop.

Luckily, she takes the hint and tells me that the Martha's have made us dinner in the kitchen and to grab some before it's all gone. She starts walking away from me when I yell at her from behind, still leaning up against the bar.

"What happened to the girl who wore this before me?"

"Don't ask questions you already know the answer to."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Given the amount of fabric I don't have on my body, it was a struggle trying to find a hiding spot for the letter before I walk back into Snape's room. Snape never touches me like that so stuffing it in the back of bodysuit, while uncomfortable, was a good enough place to hide it until I head down to the dorms for the night. Even though Snape let many things slide with me like drinking alcohol, reading and writing, something tells me that holding a letter from a Handmaid addressed to someone a part of the Order of the Phoenix, the resistance that is trying to take down Salazar and the Lord, would be crossing a line.