Narcissa met her sad eyes, redirecting her wand from the parchment in her hand, spelling the book open to a particularly lascivious staged photo in the back chapters. Hermione looked at one of the many enchanted pictures of her pre-pierced body, the staging portrayed her as a giant whore, even though she knew the truth was very much different. "Muddy, this is for your own good, the Mudblood Hermione Granger does not exist anymore, you do not respond to that name, you no longer get to think of yourself as a person.. ha what a silly notion. You are a plaything for the Dark Lord and his most trusted followers. We own your body, we rule your mind, your new role in life is to please us or be pleasing to us, absolutely nothing else matters". Hermione stares back at Narcissa, her mind parsing the bleak future those words spelt out, a fate very much worse than death in her own estimation.