Obliviate

Chapter Six | House Contamination

Hermione had always believed she was a true Gryffindor at heart.

That even through the dark, corrupted and vulgar problems she'd faced throughout her years as a student within Hogwarts, she'd be true to her word.

At school, that was true for Hermione, however, as their fourth year came about she felt like her true intentions were contaminated by those of Salazar Slytherin's own house.

Just an inkling - a small fraction of dark magic - dark intentions, had managed to slip into her, even if it was the tiniest portion. And it terrified her - it really did.

After He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was resurrected during the Triwizard Tournament, Hermione began to look at other alternatives.

She'd began to research dark magic in the library a lot more often.

When Harry and Ron disappeared to play their many games of Wizard's Chess, Hermione slipped off to the restricted section - searching for many different answers for the many different questions she had. She looked into jinxes, hexes, dark curses, the three Unforgivable Curses.

The information she stumbled upon scared Hermione. In 'Dark Magic: Hexes, Jinxes and the Unforgivable', she'd memorised each and every curse. She'd written down on multiple sheets of parchment the various information she'd come across, all neatly laid out in different sections.

The way she researched so effortlessly, it was like she'd been put into the wrong house. Rowena Ravenclaw would've been more than thrilled to have had Hermione within her house.

When the trio weren't busy distracting themselves, they stuck together, tightly bound like they were part of each other's DNA. That without one, the other two wouldn't function to their best ability. And the trio was exactly like that.

Hermione had taken up the role of a caring, nurturing mother to the boys. At least - that's how she felt sometimes. She was constantly putting her own emotions on the line just to make sure that Ron and Harry were okay.

No matter what, she always put her friends first. Even at the cost of her own happiness. Maybe Hermione should've been sorted into Helga Hufflepuff's house.

June 1994

"Everything's going to change now, isn't it?" Hermione asked, basically choking up the words as she glanced over at the boys beside her at the end of their fourth year together.

They stared back at her with a sort of... sorrow. Just like they knew, that what Hermione was asking was indeed the truth.

Harry's head hung low like he was ashamed. Ashamed that he'd let himself fall victim to Voldemort, ashamed he'd let Cedric Diggory be another victim in his sick works of pursuit for power.

Ron kept quiet. His eyes didn't even attempt to meet Hermione's at all. He just stared off, straight into the courtyard, watching the numerous students flooding the grounds to watch the other schools leave Hogwarts after yet another hectic year.

His eyes were... desolate.

When Harry brought his eyes back up to meet Hermione's, there was a lack of emotion in them. The once fierce, stormy oceans within his eyes had now settled - like they were just now the calm before the storm. Flat. Grey. Something needed to reignite the fire within him - she didn't know if Harry knew it, but Hermione did.

The war was coming.

Harry began to walk towards Hermione, raising his hand to her shoulder, to comfort her. She didn't want to hear his answer as she already knew the answer - yet she asked the question anyway. His warm hand covered her entire shoulder - and Harry used his thumb to gently caress her in a way.