Obliviate

Chapter One

On September first, 1943, sixteen-year-old Maeve Sinclair sat overlooking the gardens of the Sinclair Estate at sunrise. She had gotten a full night's sleep, eaten an early and perfectly cooked breakfast, and completely packed for her return to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

The Sinclair family was one of the wealthiest in Great Britain, and their lineage and pureblood wizarding status had been maintained for centuries. Maeve was the youngest child of Ambrose and Clarissa Sinclair, who had three children, only two of whom were still alive.

The pressures bestowed upon Pureblood children were not like those of other magical families. They had very different childhoods, no matter how luxuriously cushioned.

At eleven years old, Maeve Sinclair was the first in her family's history to be sorted not into the great and revered House of Salazar Slytherin. Rather, she was placed in Ravenclaw House, leaving Maeve with the task of proving herself worthy of her pureblood status while simultaneously fighting to escape its confinements.

She cried for weeks over the Sorting Hat's decision, terrified of losing her Father's affection. Though anyone who knew the brilliant Ambrose Sinclair knew he was secretly elated and not one bit surprised when his youngest daughter wound up in Ravenclaw House.

Maeve sipped her tea happily on the balcony. She was excited for her sixth year at Hogwarts, her second year appointed as Ravenclaw Prefect, and her first year as the one and only Sinclair child attending Hogwarts.

Since her completion at Hogwarts two months prior, Arianna Sinclair, her sister, had secured herself a job in the Department of Magical International Cooperation, a brand new apartment in London, and an "absolutely shining future," to quote their mother.

Maeve's cat, Spinel, rubbed against her legs. Maeve dotted on him with a few rubs.

"There she is," came a bright, warm voice from behind her.

Her father, Ambrose Sinclair, sat down beside her. "Should have known you would be ready to go two hours early," he teased, beaming at her.

"Just enjoying my last garden view sunrise for a while," said Maeve, smiling at him.

Her father was the only thing Hogwarts lacked.

"Oh, please, plus jeune serre-livre," an affectionate name he used for her, "I know you are about to burst."

"Truthfully," she looked out over the garden, "yes."

Ambrose laughed knowingly. "Like father like daughter."

Maeve smiled and continued to pet Spinel.

"I just have this feeling," said Maeve. "Perhaps because I'll be there all myself. . . I don't know, and I just feel something great lies ahead."

"Greater than eight 'Outstandings' on your O.W.L.S. exams?" Asked Ambrose.

"You forgot the one "Exceeds Expectations'," she muttered bitterly.

Maeve scored perfectly on eight out of the nine exams fifth-years required to take at Hogwarts, but her Potions exam score was substantially lower than all her other scores.

"Still on that?" Ambrose asked in disbelief.

"Wouldn't you be?"

"Not if I was already performing at N.EW.T level in Charms," laughed Ambrose.

N.E.W.T stood for Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Test and was taken by all students in their final year to prepare them for their chosen career paths.

"I suppose," agreed Maeve after the friendly reminder of her success in her favorite subject. Currently, Maeve Sinclair was the strongest charm producer at school.

"Would you like for me to go with you to the station?" Ambrose asked.

"No, Daddy. That's alright. I know you have a lot of work on your hands this week."

Maeve admired her father greatly. He was a brilliant, witty mind with a high-level Ministry job that grew higher and higher each year.

"I'll just take the Floo into London. I want to stop by Madame Malkin's and purchase that broach I saw in the window last week before heading to King's Cross Station."

"You already have that," said Ambrose.

"No, I don't," said Maeve simply. "I have the broach matching Aunt Madrigold's pin, but not this pin. I know they do look similar."

"I know the difference," said Ambrose, smiling mischievously. "I am saying you already have that pin."

"Oh," sighed Maeve, realizing her father must have gone behind her back and purchased it.

"It's already packed for you."

Ambrose stood and kissed the side of her head.

"Thank you. You didn't have to do that," said Maeve reaching for his hand.

"Have a wonderful term. Don't forget to write me."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

Three hours later, the Hogwarts Express departed on time as usual. Maeve settled in the corner of a compartment and took up her current favorite book. She looked to her lap as Spinel stretched in his sleep. Spinel was a solid black shorthair cat given to her the night before her very first day at Hogwarts five years ago and named for the color of his wide-set eyes. He was an incredibly smart companion.

The compartment door slid open, revealing a boy with bright, white-blonde hair.

"Just thought I'd say hello," said Abraxas Malfoy.

"Too busy with your chums to sit with me?" Maeve asked, turning the page.

"I saw you all summer," protested Abraxas. "Besides, you really should be writing detentions for those third years a few compartments back, Miss Prefect."

Maeve looked up, annoyed.

"Why, what are they doing?" Maeve asked Abraxas, but the door was already sliding shut.

"You'll just have to see," laughed Abraxas over his shoulder.

Maeve sighed and set Spinel and her book aside. She made her way down the hall, checking each compartment.

"Slacking off, Sinclair."

Tom Riddle emerged from the next compartment down, his Slytherin Prefect badge shiny like always.

"Not slacking. I just knew you'd have a handle on things," retorted Maeve sweetly.

Tom was a fellow sixth year and top of their class. Even with her sister Arianna gone from Hogwarts, she was still in second place to Tom.

"It's an honor to be a Prefect. You shouldn't disregard your duties," said Tom looking over her. "I'm sure whatever book your nose was in can wait."

The corners of Maeve's lips turned down.

"How can you say that patrolling the train and giving out petty detentions is more important than learning?"

"I didn't. I said it could wait," said Tom matter of factly.

"What were they up to anyway?" Maeve asked as they walked the hall together, peeking in compartments for misbehaving students.

"They had an Ever Bashing Boomerang," said Tom. "I confiscated it, of course."

"Of course," said Maeve, cooly.

They came across Abraxas and a gang of sixth and seventh-year boys petrifying a few first years with Hogwarts horror stories. All of which were outlandish and false.

Tom and Maeve allowed this to continue for a moment before sending the first years on their way. They all left with such pale complexions that Abraxas gripped his stomach with laughter.

Maeve's spent the remainder of her Prefect duty telling the younger students it was time to change into their uniforms as they'd be arriving at Hogwarts any minute.

The sun was just setting behind the mountains when the train rolled into the station. Maeve stepped out into the fresh Scotland air, and Spinel jumped from her arms and took off through the gates towards the castle.

Maeve looked up. Hogwarts Castle was glowing in the distance.