The trunk lid opened and the masked lord climbed back down the stairs.
Clare looked down at the table.
"Wow," Slytherin said, "heavy atmosphere."
A plate of steak and potatoes was placed in front of her and her mouth began to water. She hadn't eaten food like this in over three years.
Slytherin sat down at the one free space and took off his apron, which she realised with a jolt on incongruity said, 'I must break Gamp's law because my food is magic.' She didn't get the joke but it was clearly supposed to be humorous and totally didn't mesh with the ultra intimidating visage of the powerful masked magical lord.
They started eating.
Slytherin glanced at Emma and Dan who both nodded at him.
"So," Slytherin said, causing her to instantly focus on him, "we have a problem—several problems, actually—and we're hoping you'd be able to help us with them."
She paused with a slice of stake halfway to her mouth. "My lord, I'm sure I'd be willing to help in any way I can, but I don't see what you could possibly need my help with." She paused. "Apart from the obvious, I mean." Slytherin waved a vague hand holding a fork. "Well, you can rest assured, Miss Cooper, that it is not the obvious."
Some part of Clare that she didn't know she'd been holding tense, relaxed slightly.
"Dan and Emma recently sent their daughter off to Hogwarts. Before they did that, I had quite a number of powerful wards installed at their home. Their daughter, Hermione, was charging those wards, but now that she's away, the wards are powered only by a small number of magical plants in the garden not nearly enough to maintain the wards at the levels we'd appreciate."
"—Wait," Clare said, shocked. She gestured to Dan and Emma. "You're both muggles?"
Dan and Emma nodded, smiling. Whoa. That was unexpected.
"Dan and Emma are also doing work on several magical projects — runes, enchanting, product development, etc — that do need a magical person to activate, or cast a spell for, and we're hoping you'd be able to perform this role as well."
Clare felt her heart don't know any magic."
sink.
"But,
I
Slytherin bit into a piece of roast potato, the mask moulding itself around the morsel in a strangely hypnotic manner. He swallowed. "Don't worry about that — that's something I'll handle."
Clare took another sip of the orange liquid. "What about…" she hesitated before tapping the collar around her neck. "Ah, yes. This morning, I purchased an option on your debt for the next two weeks. If we decide we want to go ahead, I'll activate the option and buy your debt. Then we go to the ministry and get the official stamp to move your prison to Dan and Emma's house."
She bit her lip. "And I wouldn't have to have sex with anyone to pay off the debt?"
"No."
Clare looked down at her half finished meal. It sounded too good to be true. But on the other hand, she was really only trading one master for another. At least she knew her current one. She narrowed her eyes. She knew he was a vicious pimp who forced her to have sex to pay off an unfair debt.
She looked up at the masked man across the table from her. Was this man who hid behind a mask likely to be any better? Oh sure, it was all happy promises and rainbows now, but she knew how these people played their games. They made promises for breakfast and broke them for tea… and then fucked you for supper.
Slytherin tilted his head. "Take your time, Miss Cooper. I suggest you think on it. We'll all get together again in a week and you can decide then."
Clare nodded slowly. Yes, she'd think on it.
The next week passed and, apart from one disgusting client who had her polyjuice into his own daughter, nothing special happened. She was booked every night and spent the days asleep or else pondering Lord Slytherin's offer. The other girls thought she was mad for even considering not taking him up on it. "This is your chance, Clare! You HAVE to do it!"
But Clare still wasn't sure. How could she know she wouldn't be even worse off after she agreed? Wizard lords couldn't be trusted. The only reason she wasn't instinctively turning it down was that Lord Slytherin seemed to be giving her the choice. After all, he could have just bought her debt without even asking her.
Her indecision, however, was about to be given a serious kick in the teeth when Slytherin's promised day of return came. She was in her room, in the middle of the afternoon, entertaining her only non-polyjuice client, Mister Volf, all balding head and potbellied belly, when the man, who looked old enough to be her grandfather, tried to cast a spell of some sort while she was on top of him. A sudden motion from her caused him to jerk back and instead of whatever he'd hoped to happen, an angry stoat popped out of nowhere, bit him on the arm, and caused him to drop his wand, which clattered away across the floor.
"You idiot!"
The stoat disappeared.
She flinched and tried to apologise, but it was no use. He slapped her across the face, pushed her off of him and got dressed, muttering about worthless mudblood whores.
That might have been par for the course, if it hadn't been for the madam calling her in later saying that Volf had demanded compensation for a scratch on his wand and the bite on his arm. "We'll have to take it from your wages, I'm afraid."
Clare's heart sank. "But what about my repayments?" she asked, desperately, "Will they be lowered?"
The madam looked at her with sorrowful eyes. "No, dear. You'll have to make up the difference from your tips. I know you have a secret stash — all the girls do."
Her heart sank lower. "How much?"
"Three galleons (£150)."
Three whole galleons. That would wipe out everything she'd saved for the last year over half of everything she had. She trudged back up to her room, shut the door quietly behind her, collapsed into her still messed up bed, put her pillow over her head, and cried tears of frustration into the sheets and all over her plain black robes.
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