Chapter One

Invictus

Out of the night that covers me,

Black as the Pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever gods may be

For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance

I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeonings of chance

My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears

Looms but the horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years

Finds, and shall find me, unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,

How charged with punishments the scroll,

I am the master of my fate;

I am the captain of my soul.

-William Ernest Henley

The Daily Prophet. September 4,

Anyone who suffered loss in the Wizarding War now has a chance to get some of their own back! In a grand display of public spirit, the Ministry of Magic is auctioning off the services of thirty-four convicted Death Eaters! These convicts have been Soulstruck (see page 3) and are completely safe. The auction will take place at the Ministry on September 8, 1998.

The Ministry encourages the public to attend so that they may see for themselves that there is nothing to fear from these former Death Eaters.

The Daily Prophet, September 4, 1998, page 3. Excerpt.

Soulstriking was developed by Aberon McGaven during the Wizarding War to assist in controlling dangerous prisoners when it was found that Dementors were no longer effective. The process permanently depresses the higher brain functions, rendering the prisoner calm and compliant, and completely incapable of magic. The first official use of Soulstriking occurred last August when eighty-six self-styled Death Eaters were convicted of war crimes. Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge sentenced the condemned to be Soulstruck rather than executed. "In this way," he stated, "we hope to show a sense of justice. These criminals will now serve the very people whom they harmed."

Cornelius Fudge put down the paper with a smile and rubbed his left arm reflexively. The Ministry was in dire need of funds. Auctioning off the Death Eaters would not only bring in a healthy amount of coin, but would also transfer the costs for their care to their new owners. He himself planned to attend the auction. He might even bid on Lucius Malfoy!

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Hermione?" Harry asked. "I thought you didn't believe in slavery."

Hermione turned to face him and planted her hands on her hips. "Harry, it's not about slavery. It's about saving a life." She sighed. "Think it through. Who - besides the Order - knows Severus was a spy? No one. At the same time, everyone knows he was a Death Eater. We know he was arrested, and we know he was convicted. We can't let him be knocked down to, say, Amos Diggory."

Harry winced. "Do you think he'll be here today? Diggory, I mean."

"I'm sure of it. Can you imagine what he'd do to any of those people?"

"After what happened to Cedric, I wouldn't blame him."

"Harry!"

"Well I wouldn't!"

She searched his face. "What about you?"

"Huh?"

"Are you going to buy one of them? Have your own personal Death Eater licking your boots, fawning all over you, panting to obey your every whim?"

It was his turn to sigh. "Hermione… you don't understand. Death Eaters are nothing more than murderers, rapists, arsonists, and every other kind of criminal you can think of. This is a damn sight more humane than the Dementor's Kiss."

"What do you mean I don't understand? What don't I understand?"

"He killed my parents! And -"

" - And he killed mine as well, or did you forget that?" She glared at him. "Harry Potter, you are not the center of the universe! There's not a wizard in Britain today who hasn't been touched in some way by Voldemort and his followers."

He winced as if she'd struck him. "I know that," he said slowly. "but there's a part of me that screams for vengeance. I guess I meant to say that I can understand how Mr. Diggory feels. Just…" he trailed off. "He hasn't ever gotten past Cedric's death."

"You're not him, Harry." Her voice was gentle. "Even if you did buy one, you'd be a better owner."

"I hope you're right." He gave her a lopsided smile. "Let's go get seated."

They made their way past several security checkpoints, and finally ended up in one of the ubiquitous convention rooms on the second underground level. At one end of the long rectangular room was a raised platform. The rest of the room was filled with hard backless benches, many of them occupied by witches and wizards. The frontmost row of benches was cordoned off with a gold ribbon; a sign on the seat said "Reserved for Press".

Harry found a piece of bench in the third row and sat down. Hermione sat down next to him and shuffled her feet nervously. "Harry - I meant what I said outside. We have to see if Snape is here. Even if his mind is gone, he doesn't deserve to spend the rest of his life as a slave."

"And if he's not here, then what?"

"Oh Harry, I don't know. We only know he was captured and convicted because Rita told us."

"I know. Secret trials with pre-ordained outcomes. Fudge at his best. Having an ally in the Press has been useful. I hope Fudge never finds out about her being part of the Order. He'd probably have her killed." Rita Skeeter had joined them after Death Eaters had burned the Daily Prophet offices, killing a number of the staff and injuring others. Her reasoning was simple: Voldemort had proved that he did not respect the Prophet's traditional neutrality. It was safer to join the opposition officially and be hanged for a sheep as a lamb.

"I wouldn't put it past him." Her voice dropped to a whisper as the plump Minister of Magic waddled onto the podium and beamed a smile at the audience.

"Good morning!" Cornelius Fudge snapped his fingers and several house elves appeared and began handing out rolls of parchment. "These are the terms and conditions with which you must comply if you wish to bid. They are completely binding, so please be sure you understand them. The auction will start in," he looked at his watch, "precisely ten minutes."

Hermione unrolled the parchment and began reading. "The first part looks like standard boilerplate," she said to Harry. "If there's such a thing as standard boilerplate for slavery."

He nodded, reading his own copy. "Service for life, absolute obedience, lovely wording." He snorted softly. "They're not permitted wands obviously."

She was a faster reader than he was. "Can't address them by their former names - there's a spell that detects it, and will result in the Soulstruck being returned to the ministry to be reauctioned."

The corner of Harry's mouth twitched. "Since they all have the Dark Mark, I suppose Spot would be a good name." She stiffened beside him. "I'm sorry, Hermione."

"I know. Bad jokes are your way of dealing with unpleasant truths." She finshed reading, and rolled up the parchment. "Part of me hopes we don't find him here."

"If we don't find him here, we'll keep looking. The Order won't abandon its own."

Her reply was lost as Fudge stepped up to the podium again. "Witches and wizards! The auction begins!"