I was still hugging the life out of Parvati when I felt a hand tentatively touch my shoulder.

"Ali?"

Letting go of my sister, I spun around, my heart lifting as I came face to face with a girl with long, dirty blonde hair and a serene smile plastered across her dreamy looking face.

"Luna!"

I flung my arms tightly around my best friend's neck. After four years apart, there was so much I wanted to say to her, so much we needed to catch up on. But, as I lifted my head to get a good look at her, my eyes instantly landing on her oddly empty ears, my mouth only seemed to form four words.

"Your earrings... they're gone."

She blinked, lifting her hands to touch her earlobes where radish earrings once dangled.

"They took them, along with my Butterbeer cork necklace and wand," she sighed softly, her tracksuit exhibiting the number 456. "But I'm sure those kind guards are looking after them for me. Perhaps they're a health and safety hazard?"

"Guards?" I asked, confused. "What guards?"

Luna nodded, her eyes focusing on a point past my shoulder. I whirled around and felt my insides turn to liquid. For, in front of a large pair of doors, stood nine figures dressed in hot pink jumpsuits, wearing masks containing the symbols from the business card. Each one of them were armed with what looked like submachine guns.

"What the hell is going on here?" I whispered. "Why did they gas us? And what right did they have to strip us of our clothing and our things? I mean, I'm pretty sure that shit's illegal."

Before Luna could answer, a commotion started up amongst a crowd of green bodies in the centre of the room, drawing our attention. I squinted over. Two large burly guys I recognised at once as Crabbe and Goyle from the year above me appeared to be beating some smaller guy up.

I tutted and shook my head. Some things never changed. Without another word, Luna and I moved ourselves closer to the scuffle, hoping that we could save the poor bastard.

We had to push ourselves through a tight circle of bodies, all of whom were shouting "Fight! Fight! Fight!". Merlin, it was like being back in the fucking school playground.

But it turned out that the guy Goyle was restraining in a stranglehold whilst Crabbe punched him over and over again in the gut, was the piece of shit who mugged me.

"YOU!" I bellowed, striding over to them and seeing nothing but red. Grabbing hold of the back of Crabbe's tracksuit, I pulled him roughly out of the way, wanting to get a good look at my attacker.

Under the bright fluorescent lights of the giant dormitory, I could see now that he was younger than I first thought. He must have only recently graduated from Hogwarts, if at all. However, this did not throw me, my pity severely limited after the hell I'd been subjected to over the past four years, him being the last straw.

"WHERE THE FUCK IS MY MONEY, YOU THIEVING LITTLE BASTARD?!" I roared in his frightened face.

"I- I don't know what you're talking about," he stammered, still struggling against Goyle's tight hold.

"I think you know exactly what I'm talking about," I snarled, yanking the collar of my tracksuit down so he could see the fresh scar his knife had left on my neck. "Now hand it back before I give you a scar of your own."

I pulled my arm back ready to smash him in the face, but I was stopped by a hand clamping tightly around my fist.

Irritation swirling in the pit of my stomach at being denied the chance to punch the fucker, I twisted around, ready to snap.

I recognised the sneering white-blond haired guy with the number 101 on his tracksuit immediately, of course. I mean, who would ever forget the boy who once tried to kill the headmaster?

"Get in line, bitch," Draco Malfoy snarled, his grip surprisingly tight for a person built so skinny. "This is my fight."

His grey eyes flashed in mine as his lip curled up even further.

"If that's so," I gritted, pushing my face right up in his to show him that I refused to be intimidated, "then why don't I see you getting your hands dirty? Still, I suppose it's not surprising that you of all people are still hiding behind your bodyguards. What's brought you here anyway? Has Daddy seen the light and finally disowned you?"

His eye twitched as his grip tightened in my hand, his fingers digging painfully into my skin. His breathing had become heated and his face flushed pink with anger. As he yanked my arm, making me stumble closer to him, I was convinced he was going to violently headbutt me.

It seemed our audience thought so too, as the room appeared to be holding a collective breath, waiting to see how the notorious Slytherin would react to being ridiculed by a Ravenclaw.

But, before things could escalate, a woman's voice suddenly boomed into the room, making almost everyone jump.

"I would like to extend a heartfelt welcome to you all," The cheery voice spoke. Our dispute instantly forgotten about, Draco let go of me as we all glanced around, searching for evidence of the bodiless voice. "Everyone here will participate in six different games over six days. Those who win all six games will receive a handsome cash prize."

"And why should we believe that?"

Everyone whirled around as Neville Longbottom broke free from the ranks, shouting up at the ceiling. "You took all our stuff and put us to sleep coming here, and then you brought us to this strange warehouse, now you're saying you'll pay us if we go and play a few games? You really expect us to buy that?"

The guards by the door stepped forward. The middle figure, the one with a triangle on his mask, spoke, his voice mechanical, inhuman.

"We reluctantly took all of those measures to maintain confidentiality as we brought you here. We'll return everything once the games are over."

Murmurs filled the room as someone else spoke up: Susan Bones.

"Y'all- y'all have masks. Why are you wearing those things?"

"We do not disclose the faces and personal information of our staff to any of the participants." The triangle man answered. "It's a measure we take to ensure fair games and confidentiality. Please understand-"

"Well, I don't believe you one bit, you got that?"

The room gasped as Harry Potter pointed an angry finger towards the guards, his face pinched in fury. "You tricked us. We were kidnapped. You can make as many excuses as you want to make sure nobody knows you broke the law in here. If you're going to make up for that, then we're going to need something more."

"Player 218, Harry Potter, age twenty-one years." The triangle man spoke as a screen rolled down on the wall above him and a video featuring Harry began to play. "Failed war hero, prisoner of You-Know-Who. Rescued by our recruiter, of whose invitation he did not hesitate to turn down."

Other faces filled the screen, each person playing the coin toss game and being repeatedly smacked in the face as the triangle man continued his commentary.

"Player 123, Dennis Creevey, age nineteen. Owes Gringotts two hundred thousand Galleons after developing a taste for prostitutes. Player 089, Penelope Clearwater, age twenty-five, owes six hundred Galleons. Player 199, Alia Patil, age twenty, homeless and sheltering in sewers after accumulating debts of over twenty thousand Galleons. One time vendor to Dennis Creevey."

Jeez, thanks a bunch for exposing me like that. Cunts.

As the list went on, it was clear that ever since the war, the world had fallen into extremely hard times. Where did the money all go? And was Draco Malfoy, prince of 'My father will hear about this!', seriously this desperate?

As the guards prepared the contracts for us to sign, my eyes unwittingly met Draco's who, I was surprised to see, had gone a sickly shade of green, complimenting his tracksuit.

But the steeliness remained in his eyes as he dipped his head and moved his lips against my ear. Close enough to feel his hot breath as he hissed his warning.

"Good luck, little sewer whore. I doubt you'll last ten minutes."

I glared up at him, anger sparking in my stomach. "Well, that's funny, because I was just thinking that you wouldn't even last five."

Shoving him aside, I strode defiantly towards the guards, ready to sign my life away. I'd show that stupid little jumped up ferret exactly how determined I was when it came to winning.

No matter the cost.

*****