The Shattered Dragon

Chapter 3: The Pleiades

Hermione was surprised at how quickly and deeply she fell asleep in her new surroundings. She didn't have any wine (although the girl, Sarah, had offered it) or sleeping potions, but there was something about sinking into the downy softness of the bed, of hearing Draco say "you can breathe, you won't be working tonight," that took a weight off of her shoulders, a weight she didn't know she'd been carrying, allowing her muscles to relax, her shoulders to drop and before long her eyelids were too heavy to hold open any longer and she sunk into unconsciousness, stroking her fingertips over the fresh black brand on her arm.

It was late morning when she was stirred by a knock.

"Ms. Granger? It's me, Healer Moonstone. May I come in?"

Hermione pulled on the white robe that Draco had given her the night before and shuffled to the door, stretching her neck from side to side. Her muscles were stiff with sleep, her bones aching. Whatever the healer would have to say, she knew it wouldn't be good.

"So thin," Healer Moonstone said, walking around, casting warm, tingling diagnostic spells on her heart, stomach, lungs. "We'll get a good fry up in you and you'll feel like a new woman."

She was an older woman, not quite old enough to be Hermione's mother, but there were crinkles at the corners of her eyes and a few threads of silver running through her auburn hair. All of her tests were done silently and she gave no information as to what she was looking for or what she found...but when she cast a throbbing, uncomfortably hot spell between Hermione's legs, she knew it was contraceptive in nature.

"Why don't the men need to be responsible for contraception?" Hermione asked, as Moonstone wrote things in a little black leather book.

"They're submitted to testing as well, don't worry. No one walks through the front door until they've been vetted by Mr. Malfoy, and they're all tested for diseases and infections. It takes quite a bit of rigamarole to become a member of the The Dragon. It's just that the contraception charms are easier for women, with fewer negative side effects. But I'm sure you know that," she added, giving her a knowing smile.

"It doesn't bother you, working for a whorehouse?" Hermione asked, once she was told she could put her robe back on.

"Should it, dear?" She asked, making checkmarks and furrowing her brow as she reviewed her notes. "These girls are very well taken care of and are far better off here than they were on the streets. It's a different world out there, love. We all have to do what we can to survive. For example, you have to eat. And I'll be sending supplement potions to your room daily: iron, calcium, vitamin B. Breakfast is being served downstairs right now until about...ten am I believe. If you'd like I can walk you down."

"No thank you, I don't really feel like..."

"Or we could force you," Moonstone said, cutting her off. "And I know you don't want that."

A handful of girls sat at a long table in a casually decorated dining room on the first floor. On the sideboard were carafes of coffee and hot water for tea, fresh fruit, sausages and waffles, yogurt, granola...it was as if she were staying at a hotel.

"Hermione! Come over and say hello," Sarah called out, waving her hand. "Here are the other girls. This is Wren and Finch, did you get your name yet?"

Hermione stared blankly. She didn't know the answer. Draco had called her little sparrow when she was in his office, but he'd also called her Hermione. She wasn't sure who she was at the moment.

"I...I don't think so. Or at least, he hasn't told me," she said, picking at a bunch of grapes. Her stomach cramped up at the first touch of food in almost a day and a half, but she pushed herself to keep eating to stave off the headache she could feel starting to drill its way through her left eye.