Obliviate | For nicolle_016 | Harry Potter
Title: Obliviate
Author: thewordmap
For: nicolle_016
Characters/Pairings: Hermione/Draco
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Word Count: 636
Obliviate
For the third time that evening, Hermione tried once more to Obliviate the memories of her and Ron together. She had loved him, and she still did, which wasn't the ideal scenario given the fact that she was now married to Draco Malfoy.
She could not recall completely how it all went about. It was a lonely night where Ron had once again run off, mad at her for whatever reason (that was not important). She was alone and crying so hard, she thought that her body would exhaust itself of tears. But it hadn't. Instead, she had received the strangest of all messages. It was an owl from a Mr. Malfoy. She had thoought it was a mistake but when she opened it, clearly printed in neat letters at the top, was her name.
To Hermione Granger-Weasley,
The Ministry will like to request an audience with you concerning your blood-status records. Please kindly respond to this owl in a timely manner or else we will be forced to Apparate in your home and take us ourselves.
Sincerely,
Draco Malfoy
Head of Department of Magical Enforcements
Of course, being the person she was, she had not only responded to the letter but went to the Ministry of Magic herself to settle the matter.
"What do you think you're doing?" she said angrily at the pale blond boy she had known and hated in her school years.
"We're verifying your status. Not that we need to, of course. Everyone knows you're a mudblood." He snickered. Stupid Draco Malfoy.
"Then why do you need me for?" she asked again, getting close enough to punch his nose again. And she would have, too, if he hadn't grabbed her wrists and held them tightly to her body.
"Do not try anything funny, Granger," he whispered into her ear. "They will sack me if I hadn't followed orders from the Minister." His tone was that of someone who was scared for his life. The Ministry under Voldemort's reign had been brutal to the point that many tried to fake their own deaths in hopes of fleeing the country and dissappear from the Ministry records altogether.
"What do you mean?" she said, her anger faltering as she saw the fear in Draco's eyes. "What can you possibly mean?"
"They are rounding up the muggle-borns again," he said.
And that's how he saved her. He helped her fake her death and they flew out of the country, Draco using his work as an excuse to settle themselves into a remote island in the Caribbean.
She had left everything behind in a night, and now she was trying to forget it, forget all the years with the boy she loved and replace those memories with the new ones of the boy she now loved even more.
Hermione hadn't noticed when Draco slipped into the bedroom, standing behind her so silently that she had shrieked in surprise when she felt his breath on her neck.
"What are you doing?" he asked her. It was a miracle how he had changed. The Second War had made him more careful, more receptive about things. He saw the injustice of killing the muggle-borns, a people that contributed as much to the Wizarding World as any other. Sometimes, Hermione couldn't believe it herself.
"I am trying to forget," she whispered. And then, tears fell from her eyes and she knew, she knew she couldn't forget because everything before him, before Draco made her who she was. If she forgot, she'd forget how they'd come to be. She'd have empty spaces in her mind and she would go crazy. Much more crazy than if she simply locked her memory away, only to be known and seen by her.
"Forget what?" Draco asked.
She decided to lie. "That I hated you."
Author: thewordmap
For: nicolle_016
Characters/Pairings: Hermione/Draco
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Word Count: 636
Obliviate
For the third time that evening, Hermione tried once more to Obliviate the memories of her and Ron together. She had loved him, and she still did, which wasn't the ideal scenario given the fact that she was now married to Draco Malfoy.
She could not recall completely how it all went about. It was a lonely night where Ron had once again run off, mad at her for whatever reason (that was not important). She was alone and crying so hard, she thought that her body would exhaust itself of tears. But it hadn't. Instead, she had received the strangest of all messages. It was an owl from a Mr. Malfoy. She had thoought it was a mistake but when she opened it, clearly printed in neat letters at the top, was her name.
To Hermione Granger-Weasley,
The Ministry will like to request an audience with you concerning your blood-status records. Please kindly respond to this owl in a timely manner or else we will be forced to Apparate in your home and take us ourselves.
Sincerely,
Draco Malfoy
Head of Department of Magical Enforcements
Of course, being the person she was, she had not only responded to the letter but went to the Ministry of Magic herself to settle the matter.
"What do you think you're doing?" she said angrily at the pale blond boy she had known and hated in her school years.
"We're verifying your status. Not that we need to, of course. Everyone knows you're a mudblood." He snickered. Stupid Draco Malfoy.
"Then why do you need me for?" she asked again, getting close enough to punch his nose again. And she would have, too, if he hadn't grabbed her wrists and held them tightly to her body.
"Do not try anything funny, Granger," he whispered into her ear. "They will sack me if I hadn't followed orders from the Minister." His tone was that of someone who was scared for his life. The Ministry under Voldemort's reign had been brutal to the point that many tried to fake their own deaths in hopes of fleeing the country and dissappear from the Ministry records altogether.
"What do you mean?" she said, her anger faltering as she saw the fear in Draco's eyes. "What can you possibly mean?"
"They are rounding up the muggle-borns again," he said.
And that's how he saved her. He helped her fake her death and they flew out of the country, Draco using his work as an excuse to settle themselves into a remote island in the Caribbean.
She had left everything behind in a night, and now she was trying to forget it, forget all the years with the boy she loved and replace those memories with the new ones of the boy she now loved even more.
Hermione hadn't noticed when Draco slipped into the bedroom, standing behind her so silently that she had shrieked in surprise when she felt his breath on her neck.
"What are you doing?" he asked her. It was a miracle how he had changed. The Second War had made him more careful, more receptive about things. He saw the injustice of killing the muggle-borns, a people that contributed as much to the Wizarding World as any other. Sometimes, Hermione couldn't believe it herself.
"I am trying to forget," she whispered. And then, tears fell from her eyes and she knew, she knew she couldn't forget because everything before him, before Draco made her who she was. If she forgot, she'd forget how they'd come to be. She'd have empty spaces in her mind and she would go crazy. Much more crazy than if she simply locked her memory away, only to be known and seen by her.
"Forget what?" Draco asked.
She decided to lie. "That I hated you."