Lost War

Burning

Life as a slave at the Dark Lord's Court wasn't always bad. Romilda found it quite enjoyable, even. She had seen her Lord's Pet being born... just as she had seen Harry Potter's death.  

The side-building that was reserved for the Court slaves was often referred to as the House of Sin for a reason. The most beautiful young men and women of the lower classes called it their home. Their perfectly formed bodies dressed in such tight fitting and revealing outfits they could just as well be naked and the scent of sex hung heavy in the air.

In the back, some of the men were wrestling each other to elevate the boredom, their naked bodies slicked up with oil to the point that they were glistening. It was the closest they were allowed to sex if it wasn't with one of their Master's Inner Circle. They weren't allowed to pleasure each other or themselves, which was very irritating, since their food usually consisted Lust Potion.

Romilda Vane had been there the longest, something she took great pride in, and thanks to her many years of experience, she wasn't as affected by the constant burning need that heated her blood and always kept her at the ready if anyone took an interest in her. She took another long drag of her bong and exhaled purplish pink smoke. She couldn't quite remember exactly what the drug was in the liquid inside, but it didn't particularly matter anyway. It made her feel lightheaded and gave her a pleasant buzz, that was the important part.

Hooded eyes observed the others in the courtyard they spend most of their time. A few young girls were feeding each other grapes, some others were bathing in the large outer bath. Several of the other slaves were either smoking bongs like the one next to Romilda, or drinking expensive wine. Silver and golden bands glinted around each and every one of their neck, like it did with Romilda herself. Gold for her of course. She was the senior slave. The 'caretaker' of all the others. The one most respected. Hell, sometimes, she was even treated as an equal by her guests. They talked to her like they didn't with the others, told her their deepest secrets. The secrets of the Dark Lord himself if she gave them enough to drink beforehand.

Life as a slave at the Dark Lord's Court wasn't always bad. Romilda found it quite enjoyable, even. She had seen her Lord's Pet being born... just as she had seen Harry Potter's death. She smiled bitterly and took another drag of the bong, the sickly sweet smoke burning her lungs pleasantly.

She still remembered it all vividly, no matter how long it had been since then. She had been 22 years old. That was 14 years ago now... It felt like a lot less. It was as if the last decade had been a dream. She had been too drugged up on potions, alcohol, drugs and sex to remember most of that, but everything before was still all too clear to her.

Only 22 when she and her parents had been captured by Death Eaters. Her father was found guilty for consorting with muggles, and her mother was found guilty... of being a muggle... Both had been executed instantly and Romilda had no illusions that she would have the same fate... only she didn't.

She was imprisoned in a dungeon, to her surprise sharing a cell with none other than her old Housemate, Lavender Brown. A half-blood, like herself. It was quiet obvious on the swollen, red eyes and the shaking frame of the older girl that Lavender's parent's had suffered the same fate as hers. Both girls had comforted each other that at least they were still alive.

They had stayed locked away in that dingy cell for about a week, maybe a few days more or less, they didn't know, before they had been brought before the Dark Lord and his loyal followers. Both girls had been given the shock of their lives when they found Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Died, their destined saviour who had been declared dead years ago, naked and tied up, kneeling at the Dark Lord's feet. He hadn't looked a day over 16. He was thin and his creamy skin was littered in scars, but other than that, he had looked healthy.