Obliviate

Chapter Seven | Her Dark Materials

Hermione's mind came crashing down to hell with a massive bang. She'd call it earth, but nothing about her 'home' made it feel anything more than a personal hellhole. Her own corruption of a prison.

As she forced her eyes open and came back to her senses, she was still gripping Antonin's wand tightly in her right hand. She felt as if if she were to take the wand from her hand, she'd have to crack the bones to free it from her cramped fingers.

It hurt for her to move her eyes. As she looked around, the room was coming back into focus slowly. Faintly, like she was seeing through the eyes of somebody in desperate need of glasses, she counted another figure in the room. They were dressed in dark, long robes.

Hermione blinked hard to readjust her sight. As she opened her eyes, she saw him. Cramped into a small ball, eyes rolled right back only revealing the whites, jaw locked into a position of a scream. They were frozen in a permanent state of terror. Terror Hermione inflicted. And what was worse, she didn't feel an ounce of regret or guilt.

She felt thankful - having the opportunity to be able to cast a spell so dark. The power ran through her veins again, and performing the curse so perfectly on Dolohov, it reignited that spark in Hermione.

It made her want more.

She tore her hungry eyes off Dolohov as soon as the faint sound of echoed, slow applause filled Hermione's room. She looked up, screwing her facial features into a stern frown, and her eyes locked into place with another pair across the room.

Sat with his back slumped into a wooden chair, one leg loosely crossed over the other at the ankle, arms folded together at the chest - sat Draco Malfoy. He almost looked bored of sitting there. He lifted his left arm up and scratched his forehead, letting out a sigh.

"Good - you're awake. Now - hand it over," he said to Hermione with a bland tone. Draco folded his little finger back into his palm, and used his other three fingers to gesture for her to hand the wand back to him.

"And why would I do that?" She questioned as she tried to slip the wand into the back pocket of her jeans. When the wand slipped her grasp and fell to the floor, Hermione had realised she'd done that out of a habit.

"Because, Mudblood, I'll let this situation slip if you do. Pass me the wand."

Hermione looked at him, confused. She dropped her gaze after a moment to look at the floor, only to notice she'd been redressed. She was dressed in her robes. The black sleeves hung off her arms, and wherever the pile of her clothes was on the floor where she'd dropped them earlier, they'd been moved.

"This situation? You've got to be joking?" Hermione snarled towards Malfoy, leaning down to the floorboards in order to grab the wand.

Just as her slim fingers began to close in around the base of Antonin's wand, Draco muttered a spell under his breath, summoning the wand straight to his hand. Hermione scoffed and lifted her head so she could see him again.

"Yes - the situation, he's dead. Did you even think about that before you tortured him to death? I was passing by the dungeons and so happened to hear the cries of a man coming to your chambers, and when I walked in," the young Malfoy began, swinging his leg back onto the ground and pushing himself up with his hands, "Dolohov was on the ground on his death bed - and there you stood, wand pointed right at him. I couldn't even get your attention. You just stared at him without emotion." He began to slowly walk up to her.

Hermione cringed at the words.

"And? He deserved it," Hermione spat, balling her fists together in a fit of rage. She looked down at the man on the ground, and he just fuelled her fury even more.