Obliviate

Chapter Four | Affairs in Order

Hermione huffed, a little out of shape from the small walk they'd completed in order to reach her room.

She'd become weak since being enslaved here. In the war she'd remembered being on the front line, pushing the Order further and further into success, or so she'd thought.

The Wizarding War now appeared as a blur in her mind, barely being able to picture anybody's faces, names, it would only reenter her mind as a solid memory when she'd hear their names. Shortly after, she'd forget once again, leaving the memory to wither away again, deeper into the abyss.

Draco walked behind, completely unfazed. All that could be heard from him was his loafers echoing throughout the corridor of the dungeons.

Just like the Dark Lord, all he emitted was dark magic. If it left a visible mark, it would've trapped Hermione inside, everywhere she'd walked it would follow her. She would've suffocated in it all. There was so much dark magic within Hogwarts that now, even the school looked dark, she'd never remembered life to be this corrupted.

She'd never have thought her life would amount to nothing.

She'd wake, shower, for-fill her Masters wishes, help pick away at the Wizarding World a little more, go back to her own personal cell, fall asleep tingling of nothingness, and then repeat.

She could see her room a few moments ahead, in the back corner of the hallway, like she was truly hidden away from anything. 

The once, bright, beautiful exterior of the school was now dull, dementors hiding within the clouds above Hogwarts, keeping a close eye on Voldemort and his followers. Keeping an eye out for anybody who dared come too close, just to kiss them, and violently steal their souls from within - breaking them down just as the Death Eaters had done to Hermione.

After a silent walk, Hermione slowed her paced down as she got closer to her room.

"I really didn't need you to walk me thirty seconds from the door, Malfoy," Hermione moaned as she approached her door. "I'm not a child."

She stared at him with dull, flat eyes, just wishing he'd fuck off already.

"Well excuse me, however I don't fancy having my head cut clean from my body if you'd run into any trouble - besides, you never know who is lurking around the corner," Malfoy lowered his voice, whispering evilly.

He drew his face closer.

"You are the only young woman in this castle, so I'd just count yourself lucky it was me who found you, and not some fucking desperate perv," he scolded, sighing at her.

His expression went blank, the frown lines settling into his forehead.

He raised his right arm and placed it on the wall beside the doorframe, looking down at Hermione with unreadable eyes from his tall height.

Compared to him, she was small, and fragile. He looked like he'd break her with one finger. His presence and stare was enough to make Hermione feel uncomfortable.

There was once a time where all she felt for Malfoy was hatred, like two enemies who only crossed paths on the rare occasion - but now, she felt an empty kind of anger for him. Like Hermione didn't have it inside of her to allow his presence to engulf her like he used too.

Hermione huffed and pushed on the door, heavy from all the various locks. She knew that after all these years in captivity that her physical strength wasn't quite up to standard, however she'd expected to be strong enough that she'd be able to open a door.

Obviously not.

After a long, painful minute of struggles, the young Malfoy sniggered at Hermione's failure to reenter her chambers. She let go of the door and turned to face him, shooting him evil daggers. Her eyes sparkled with a red flame.