Make the former Harry Potter crawl in front of the death eaters

If a lowly half breed creature like Greyback could make the once unbreakable Harry Potter do this, they knew the war is pretty much over. They watch with baited breathe.

"Get on your hands and knees," he commanded, his voice low and rough, but it carried an absolute authority that left no room for disobedience.

For a heartbeat, Rose didn't move. The last ember of her old self, the defiant Gryffindor, screamed in protest. But the embers were cold. The fire was out. Slowly, her body trembling with a profound and weary shame, she did as he commanded.

She rolled over, placing her palms and knees on the cold, unforgiving surface of the floor beside the chaise. The position was humiliating, animalistic. Her swollen belly hung beneath her, a constant, heavy reminder of her purpose. Her ass was raised, completely exposed to the room. She could feel the collective gaze of the Death Eaters on her, a physical, violating pressure. She could hear their whispers, their cruel laughter, the sounds of them shifting in their seats, leaning closer for a better view.

"Good girl," Greyback praised, patting her ass cheek with a resounding smack that echoed through the hall. "Now, crawl. Crawl to your Master."

He pointed a long, dirty finger toward Voldemort, who sat watching the entire proceedings with an expression of cold, analytical delight. He was a scientist, and this was his most successful experiment.

The distance to the main table had never seemed longer. Every inch of the marble floor was a mile. Rose moved forward, her hands and knees scraping against the cold stone. She kept her eyes fixed on the floor, not daring to look at anyone, not daring to see the faces of the people she had once fought against.

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