Project 137.43.M.D.

IV. | EX NUNC

IV.
EX NUNC
(from now on)

Thanks to the shiny marble floor, her footsteps echoed unnaturally loudly off the walls as she walked down the corridor to the room where Draco Malfoy was waiting for her, freshly Obliviated and unaware of what was in store for him.

Hermione smoothed down her dark grey trouser suit with a fidgety movement of her hand, then hugged the thick case file that had been sent to her two days earlier even tighter to her chest. It mainly contained information about the Memory Modification that Malfoy was supposed to have received from Harry by now. She had read the contents so many times that every word was practically etched in her memory. Given the situation, it was almost macabre.

Twelve full years had been erased.

In Hermione's eyes, that was an unimaginably long time, but it was reasonable. Malfoy was not supposed to remember sixth year, when he had been admitted to the ranks of the Death Eaters and entrusted with the task of killing Dumbledore. The following year, in which the Battle of Hogwarts had taken place, had also been wiped from his mind, as had the entire period of his imprisonment in Azkaban. It was undeniably an extremely large amount of memories that he had lost, but they had had to start at a point when he had still been mostly innocent, and that had been the end of fifth year.

Despite her careful preparation and detailed knowledge of the Substitute, an uneasy feeling welled up inside Hermione as she reached the door. When she raised her hand to knock, she realised that it was trembling.

"Now get a grip, for fuck's sake," she whispered to herself, earning a confused look from a passing healer.

Because yes, this was also part of the project. The room where Harry had Obliviated Malfoy was in the basement of St Mungo's Hospital. And she, who was actually a Mentor on behalf of the Ministry of Magic, would be introducing herself as a guardian of St Mungo's. This fact made her even more nervous. Until now, it had never been necessary for her to hide her true profession. This was the very first project in which she was to support an Obliviated offender who had been fed false memories to make up for the lost years.

Hermione rolled her shoulders, pushed the thought aside and knocked vigorously on the heavy wooden door. It was opened immediately. They had been waiting for her.

With lowered eyes, she entered the sunlit room, where, as agreed, only two people were waiting for her. Harry had promised her that he would volunteer to watch Malfoy until she arrived. The other Aurors, who had had to accompany him for legal reasons, had probably long since returned to their actual tasks.

"There you are," he whispered in relief.

From his tense posture, Hermione could tell that Harry didn't like the situation either. But that was their job. They had to remain professional. So she pulled herself together, greeted her friend with a curt nod and then turned to the second person present.

Inmate 43.M.D. was sitting quietly in a chair in the centre of the room. His forearms were resting loosely on the cream-coloured table top and he seemed relaxed. Hermione had expected that, after all, she knew what had just been done to him. Still, she couldn't stop a shiver from running down her spine at the stark contrast between his demeanour and his physical state.

Draco Malfoy's hair was chin-length, messy and fell straggly across his forehead. His cheeks were sunken. In fact, he was so emaciated that every bone was clearly visible beneath his alabaster-coloured skin. Hermione caught herself thinking that the contours of his face looked as if you could cut yourself if you touched them, they were so sharp. The grey Azkaban prison uniform had been replaced by dove blue patterned patient clothes, but even these fluttered around his thin limbs. And he had never been so pale before. Even in sixth year or during the Battle of Hogwarts, where she had last seen him, he had had a much healthier complexion.