Obliviator by KiRa M. EmeRaLd
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns. Need I say more?
A/N: I came up with this idea in the midst of writing my previous story and decided it was interesting enough, and so I began to write.
Heads up that the rating may change in the later chapters as I feel it is necessary in order to get the story where I want it to go. I promise it will all make sense when I get there.
In addition to more vague messages, please note that it does get a little intense in the later chapters, but then it evens out. Hard to explain, I hope you'll see what I mean for yourself!
1. What You Don't Know, Won't Hurt
He was an expert.
This was his livelihood after all. Day in and day out he would erase memories from muggles that held information that was considered harmful to the wizarding world. Masses would wait to see him, not that they had a choice in the matter. It's not as if they knew to begin with. They didn't know who he was, what he would do them, or more so, what he had already done.
Erase.
That was his job. Obliviating the memories from muggles who had witnessed magic. Why? Well someone had to do it. It's not like these moments brought any real value to these individuals, to these muggles. Seeing someone on a broom, or use a wand, was a useless piece of information for a muggle, and a highly dangerous one for his people. It was Draco Malfoy's duty to make those memories disappear. Vanish into thin air, never to be recovered.
Why?
People are afraid of what they don't understand. This has always been the case. His father had always gone on about how wizards were far more powerful than muggles, how they shouldn't have to hide. And Draco had always agreed. But one thing he had to learn as an Obliviator, is that it's much easier to hide, than to try and take the fear away from people. That's what muggle history proved. Good witches, bad witches, it did not matter to them. They were all the same in their opinion. Who was to say that if muggles found out about wizards today, that they wouldn't burn down Diagon Alley at the busiest time of day, strictly out of fear. It was not a risk that they were willing to take. It was easier to avoid a war, than to fight one. That was Draco's new personal belief.
As to keep in that belief, he would bore into minds in search for memories of magic. Then cast it away.
This wasn't something Draco had planned on. It wasn't his dream to be an Obliviator. He, like all his friends, wanted to be a famous Quidditch player. But life is funny, and sometimes things falls into place without even trying. Draco hadn't thought much of it when he had signed up for the job. He had thought it was a relatively easy thing to do, and imagined how the press would eat it up. How it would show that he was a new man now after the war. He had quickly found that it took a lot more than just pointing a wand at someone and saying obliviate, and he had found that he didn't mind. He had started the job as somewhat of a gag. It was meant to be a quick bandage to solve several of his problems. In the big picture, he expected it to be a role into the Ministry. One that he intended to lead him to a bigger, and better job. A job high up that would put the Malfoy name back in good standing. Those opportunities did come, and he had refused.
He enjoyed what he did, and he did it well. He was content... well, as content as he could get.
There was a little witch missing from his picture perfect life, and he knew exactly which one. She would abhor him if she ever knew. What he did, what he had done, what he continued to do. He couldn't stop, not that he hadn't tried. He really had, honest! But she was his drug, and damnit he could not give her up so easily. She would hate him if she knew what he was doing, but she would never find out. He was an Obliviator, after all.
