Oblivious Pain
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It was a typical early July evening in the county of Wiltshire, mild and a bit humid, but not unbearably so. A slight breeze ruffled the leaves on the trees and kept the air from becoming stale and stifling. Every once in awhile a cricket hummed or a frog croaked, breaking the dark silence of the land. Just outside of a tall wrought iron gate at the end of a narrow lane a faint pop could be heard and a tall man with long white-blond hair appeared out of thin air. It was clear from the way he dressed and held himself that he was a distinguished man. However, upon closer inspection he looked rather ill. Adjusting his scepter-like cane and squaring his shoulders he pushed through the iron gates, embellished with an intricately curling M in the center. Despite the cane he carried, he walked perfectly fine without it and used it more as a wielding device to gain control over others.
The long straight path he walked on led directly to the grandeur front entrance of his home, a gothic styled mansion, widely known as Malfoy Manor. The drive was lined with tall yew hedges on either side. On occasion, a large white peacock strutted across the path ahead of him. Distinguished, he was, indeed.
From his robes, he drew a long wand and pointed it at the impressive doors in front of him. Without a sound, they opened for him, as though he were a king stepping into his palace. In fact, the inhabitants of the nearby village speculated whether he and his family weren't perhaps the decendents of some ancient royal family. The villagers found it odd so little was seen of the uppity Malfoy's. However, on the rare occasion the family did make an appearance, they were dressed oddly, darkly, even, some would say. Some of the more superstitious villagers suspected they were a part of something darker and more mysterious. In the very least, the Malfoy's were of a different sort and the villagers felt it best to leave them well enough alone.
Upon entering his home, he was greeted by his wife, Narcissa, who rushed into his arms, grasping her husband with an outwardly undetectable desperateness. However, anyone who knew her well enough would know this was a display of distress that Narcissa rarely reveled.
"Lucius! I'm so glad you're home, we've missed you so…" Narcissa cried, her graceful hands clutching him tightly, as though if she were to let go, he would vanish. He stroked her long blonde hair reassuringly, breathing in her scent. It was good to be home. She peered up at him with a sense of apprehension in her blue eyes. He met her gaze and he sensed there were many unspoken words she was trying to communicate to him. "Oh, Lucius…things here have been simply…dreadful…," she whispered finally, turning her face away from her husband so he would not see the tears brimming her eyelashes. She stepped back.
"Draco," Lucius stated simply, opening his arms and staring at his son who stood awkwardly in the doorway. Draco stepped forward, gave his father a stiff embrace and stepped back, averting his gaze to the plush rug beneath his feet and shoving his hands into his pockets. "Is something the matter, son? Are you not happy to see me?"
Narcissa stepped closer to her son, putting a hand on his shoulder. "The Dark Lord…," she began, only to be interrupted by an unmistakable high, cold voice which emanated from another doorway of the entrance hall.
"Ah, Lucius, welcome home. Did you enjoy Azkaban? Been having some careful reflections I presume?" The man, famously known to all witches and wizards as the great Lord Voldemort, though even his most dedicated followers rarely called him this, stood nearly a head taller than Lucius. He looked not much different than a snake, though how he had come to appear this way had never been questioned aloud by any Death Eater, at least, not in his presence. A large snake was wrapped comfortably around his shoulders and he stroked its head with his long white fingers while he gazed intently at Lucius.
"My Lord," Lucius said with a bow. A nearly undetectable flare flashed in his eyes at the discreet insults that were being thrown at him.
A woman with long, wildly curly hair and skeletal-like features, evidence of her long years spent in Azkaban, appeared behind the Dark Lord. A somewhat demented smile crossed her face and she wiggled around Voldemort and flounced across the room to embrace Lucius in an almost mock excitement to see him.
"Lucius!" she shrieked, "My, you're looking a bit worse for wear aren't you? Azkaban did you well, then?" She laughed manically, giving him a light pat on his gaunt cheek.
"Evening, Bellatrix," Lucius replied dryly. He was not especially pleased to see his sister in law. Draco too, was eyeing the woman anxiously.
"Are we quite through with this greeting ritual?" the Dark Lord spoke impatiently, "Now that you are finally here, there are pressing matters that need to be dealt with properly, Lucius." Draco began to excuse himself from the room but the Dark Lord stopped him in his tracks with a quick flick of his wand. "Ah ah, Draco, this concerns you too…" Draco glanced nervously at his father, fear evident in his gray eyes as he tried to move his feet, which appeared to be glued to the carpet.
At this, Bellatrix laughed hysterically at her nephew, "Afraid to tell Daddy what a failure you are, Draky?"
"Quiet, Bella," the Dark Lord hissed angrily. "You are in no position to ridicule either. Come. Let us make ourselves comfortable in the drawing room, shall we?" he asked, lifting the charm off Draco.
At this, Bellatrix's grin slid from her face. Narcissa eyed her sister dolefully, putting a hand on her son's shoulder and whispering something in his ear as she gently pushed him forward.
After settling themselves in the drawing room, the Dark Lord pressed his fingertips together in a steeple-like position under his chin. Nagini, the snake, slithered her way off his shoulders and onto the floor, where she positioned herself comfortably around his ankles. Draco watched her with wide eyes, trying to suppress a shudder.
"Now. Lucius. I have made an agreement with Narcissa, that in exchange for your release, I could abide in your home and use it as headquarters. I am quite sure you have no objection to this arrangement, however, if you do…"
Lucius shook his head vehemently, "No, no, my Lord, I am much obliged…"
"Very well. As I am sure you have expected, there will be some changes… You have failed me, Lucius, in a very simple task, I might add. All I asked was for you to get the prophecy and you were unable to attain it."
"My Lord, as I'm sure you're aware, Potter and his friends…"
"CHILDREN!" the Dark Lord roared, "Children, Lucius! You could not ward off children?"
"They were skilled far beyond the level of…"
"Of Draco?" the Dark Lord stabbed, pointing a long finger at Lucius' son who sat stiffly in a tall armchair.
Draco's gray eyes widened and he suddenly gripped the arms of the chair, leaning forward. "What's that sup…?" he began to shout. Narcissa reached across and gripped her son's arm firmly as if to tell him to watch his tongue.
"What's that supposed to mean, Draco?" the Dark Lord chuckled softly, "I think you know perfectly well what it means. Now calm yourself, I'll get to you in a moment."
Draco sat back rigidly, glancing at his mother, her unspoken warnings flashing in her eyes. Voldemort turned his attention back to Lucius.
"I believe whole-heartedly you deserved to be thrown into Azkaban for failing me, Lucius. Therefore, it was enough of a punishment for now, don't you agree?" He twirled his wand, smirking at Lucius, whose eyes followed the wand, waiting for it to point in his direction despite the Dark Lord's words. He braced himself for the inevitable punishment that did not come.
"You do not trust me, Lucius?"
Lucius snapped his gaze back on the slit-pupil red ones of the Dark Lord. "O-of course, My Lord. You know what's best."
Bellatrix sniggered.
"Bellatrix was not so lucky. I'm sure you would have been much happier in Azkaban than with what awaited you when you returned empty handed, am I correct, Bella?" She bowed her head at her Lord. "However, she was able to kill Sirius Black, which speaks better for her than for you, Lucius, I think, does it not? And she was a might more useful to me, not locked behind bars for a year."
Fury burned within Lucius. Never mind that he was one of the first to come back to the Dark Lord when Bellatrix was locked up in Azkaban for fourteen years.
"Oh don't worry, Lucius, I haven't forgotten how you avoided Azkaban the first time, claiming you were under the Imperious curse. Loyalty, Lucius, loyalty."
Lucius tried not to glare at the Dark Lord. Of course. Legilimency. A skill the Dark Lord was highly accomplished at. The Dark Lord had now turned his attention to Draco.
"Well, Draco, why don't you tell Daddy about your little adventures while he's been gone?" Draco looked at his father, a pained expression upon his features. He appeared frozen, unable to speak. "Go on, Draco, Daddy deserves to know what his little replacement has been up to, yes?"
"Replacement?" Lucius growled and stood before he could stop himself. "What have you done?" he hissed at Voldemort.
"Lucius, please!" Narcissa begged.
"Sit." The Dark Lord said, pushing the man back in his chair forcefully with the flick of his wand. "I believe that is the question you should be asking your son, Lucius. I have done nothing but teach someone a lesson."
Lucius looked across at Draco now. Terror was now clearly evident on his son's face and he was avoiding eye contact with the Dark Lord.
"Very well then. As I am sure you are well aware, Albus Dumbledore is dead. This was the task with which I entrusted your son. He had an entire year to accomplish this feat, though I had expected it done in a more timely matter," the Dark Lord waved a hand lazily. "Details aside, in the end he was unable to complete the job he had started. Luckily for Draco, my most useful servant, Severus Snape, came to the rescue and finished off the job himself." Voldemort leaned toward Draco and stared unblinkingly at the boy, waving his wand and forcing eye contact.
"Such fear in those eyes, Draco. Such fear. What happened to the promising enthusiasm you had when you were first marked? Childish enthusiasm, I'm afraid. A shame. There was potential there. You could have risen far in my ranks, Draco. Weak. Lucius, you've raised a pitiful, weak son."
Voldemort sat back and gazed at an outraged Lucius. An almost gleeful expression crossed his snake-like features. With out breaking eye contact with Lucius, the Dark Lord pointed his wand at Draco.
"Crucio."
Draco jerked and fell out of his chair with a scream, writhing in agony.
"STOP!" Lucius roared.
The Dark Lord lifted the curse. "Perhaps you should teach your son how to better control his thoughts."
Bellatrix sniggered again, watching the scene before her with a sick sense of amusement.
The Dark Lord gazed thoughtfully down at Draco, who was crumpled on the floor, shaking visibly, and analyzing the carpet very carefully.
"You make it far too easy for me, Draco. Eye contact is not necessary when you scream your thoughts at me so. How very amateur of you. So you think I am a hypocrite, Draco? Well, I do suppose we all have some skeletons in our closets. I do, however, believe I've done a fairly decent job of cleaning out my own closets." Draco stole a terrified glance up at the Dark Lord, who smiled down maliciously. "Yet, I lecture your father in his inability to defeat children when I, myself, was unable to fend off an infant. Yes, a valid argument, I suppose. There are certainly some very mysterious things in this world. However, these things can be fixed. And similar mistakes will not be made again."
He smiled eerily down at Draco and fingered his wand thoughtfully, as though he was contemplating whether or not to continue torturing the young man collapsed pathetically on the floor in front of him. With a contempt sigh, he stood up from his seat. "Well, I believe I shall retire to my room for the night. It is late. Come, Nagini." Draco's shoulders dropped as he released his pent up tension and closed his eyes in relief. The Dark Lord chuckled and wordlessly sent a jolt of the Cruciatus Curse Draco's way. "One for your thoughts." Another flick of his wand, "And one for your sharp tongue."
With that, he turned on his heel and began to leave the room. He stopped in mid-stride and looked back at the family. "Oh yes, I should inform you, I will be holding a Death Eater meeting tomorrow. Here. I expect things to be prepared for the event. There are many things that need to be discussed. There will be a special guest attending as well. Goodnight."
The family sat, frozen, looking at each other in silence for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, Narcissa knelt beside Draco, helping him sit up. Humiliated tears brimmed his eyelids and he avoided looking at Lucius. Pushing his mother off him, Draco stood and hastily left the room. Lucius and Narcissa exchanged worried glances and hurried after their son.
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Hermione Granger paced the length of her room. She had to think. Alternatives. There had to be some alternative to memory modification. There must be. But she couldn't see any other way. Sighing, she sat on her bed. She looked tired and frazzled. Her hair was even bushier than usual, frizzed from the numerous times she had run her hands through her tangled mane.
She had spent numerous sleepless nights devising some kind of plan to protect her parents. She had realized early on that on top of being a Muggleborn witch, she would be with Harry Potter, who would quickly become the most-wanted-boy-who-lived once this whole journey began, and these two scenarios combined meant a lot of danger for both her and her family. It was a danger she was willing to risk. But she was confident her parents wouldn't want her to be a part of it. She was confident her parents wouldn't want to be a part of it.
'Well, I am of age, and this is the path I have chosen,' she thought. 'Things in the wizarding world are so much more complicated than they can even fathom, and I am going to be in the middle of it. I've been chosen to be in the middle of it. And they would never understand. It would probably be safer if they didn't understand. It would be safer if they were completely oblivious…'
It pained Hermione, knowing what she needed to do. It was for the best. She hated lying to her parents. Save, she wouldn't really be lying, just withholding information, same difference, as far as Hermione was concerned. But she loved her parents, and it was for the best. She had to keep repeating it to herself to find the strength to do this. Of course, it would have to be done in steps. It was less than a month from Harry's birthday, the day he became of age. But she had already been notified by Lupin that the date for moving Harry would be the Saturday before, so as to throw off He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. She had to act now, if her parents' new "plans" were to seem even remotely realistic to the surrounding Muggle world.
'Tomorrow,' she decided, 'At breakfast, before they go to work. Their new life ambition will be put into effect.'
With another sigh, Hermione crawled into bed to attempt to get some sleep. Curling into a ball, she could feel the tears start to come. Mum, Dad, I love you. It's for the best. It's for you. I promise, when the time comes, I'll come and find you, and make things right again. If the time comes… But she didn't really want to think about that quite yet.
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The smell of frying eggs and bacon wafted up to Hermione's room and woke her gently. There had always been something very comforting about coming home for the summer, something refreshing about going back to her family's Muggle ways. She couldn't help but feel that her parent's living style seemed a bit primitive compared to the wizarding lifestyle, but she never rubbed it in their faces. She was happy for the mutual respect she had with her parents. And oh… she would miss them.
Quickly she dressed and hurried downstairs to the dining room where her parents were eating breakfast peacefully. Her father was reading the paper while her mother sipped her coffee silently.
"Shame," Hermione's father was saying, "So many accidents. Another mysterious family death. It does seem odd, doesn't it, that there have been so many gas leaks lately? I wonder if there's been a faulty manufacturing problem…" Hermione's stomach twisted when she heard these words. Surely, Voldemort was behind it. The news reminded her of just how threatened her own family really was. A heightened sense of urgency raced through her veins.
"Good morning, dear!" Hermione's mum said brightly, smiling at her daughter who stood in the doorway.
"Morning, Mum. Morning, Dad," Hermione said, seating herself and trying to look unconcerned.
"Mornin…" Hermione's father mumbled, still quite distracted by the newspaper.
Hermione glanced at her parents and helped herself to eggs and bacon. She bit her lip nervously. She did not want to do this. "Mum… Dad…" she began and stopped. What was she really supposed to tell them anyway? If she tried to explain what she was about to do, they might try to stop her. She really couldn't afford to have this plan delayed.
"Yes, dear? What is it?" Mrs. Granger asked, concern flickering across her features.
Hermione squeezed her eyes shut; "I love you!" she burst. Slowly she reached her hand into her pocket and wrapped her fingers tightly around her wand.
Her father looked up from the paper, startled, eyeing his daughter carefully. Mrs. Granger set down her coffee mug and spoke. "Of course you do dear, we know that. We love you too." She paused. "Is something the matter?"
"No, no, nothing…" Hermione said, and began shoveling her eggs into her mouth at a rapid pace.
Mr. Granger checked is watch, "Well, almost time to leave. Ready, Marion?"
"Um… Mum, Dad…" Hermione began again. "Well, you know… since I'm of age now…and I will soon be going out into the wizarding world… maybe you should go to Australia like you've always wanted. I mean, since I won't really be around anymore… don't let me hold you back from your ambitions. You deserve to do something for yourselves. After all you've done for me…"
"Australia? Hermione, we've never expressed…" Mr. Granger began, giving his wife a confused glance. She looked equally perplexed.
Obliviate.
One unspoken word, one quick wand movement under the table, extreme concentration and direct thoughts… and one very drastic change in the atmosphere of the room, the abruptness of it all shocked even Hermione.
Mrs. Granger laughed, "Oh Australia! Gary, remember when we first met and we were so convinced we would live in Australia? And now here we are, dentists, living in suburbia London! How silly we were back then."
"Maybe…maybe we were… but, Marion," Mr. Granger looked at his wife with bright excited eyes, "Why not? Why not, Marion? Hermione's right. We've always wanted to live there, and what's holding us back? We've had a successful business. We've got plenty of money in savings. We could do it!"
"Well, yes… but what about the office? We can't just leave it… Everything we've worked for. We can't just throw it away!"
Mum, always the logical one… Hermione thought and flicked her wand indiscriminately at her father, Obliviate!
"Marion! Let's do something spontaneous!" he was now waving his arms in the air excitedly, "You've always been so straight-edged! Come on! It would be fun!"
Hermione turned her wand at her mother. Obliviate!
Mrs. Granger cast a sly grin at her husband. "You're a wicked one, Gary. Pure evil. Ok… Ok… let's do it!" Laughing, she stood from the table, pulling her husband out of his chair. She hugged him, and dragged him out the door. Hermione watched from the entrance as her parents walked to the car, giggling like newlyweds on their honeymoon, walking arm in arm, to end their careers as dentists. A knot formed in her throat. It's only temporary… It's for the best… They're happy. Look at them.
She could not bear to watch them anymore and shut the front door, letting the tears slide freely down her cheeks.
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Author's Note:
If you feel as though you've read this story before, you probably have. For personal reasons, I needed to create another account and I am currently in the process of transferring everything over to this new account. This story was originally posted under the title "The End of Me" by Karmabur.
To those who have been following this story, I apologize for the account switch, but it was necessary. Sorry.
A great big thanks to Jazz E. Rozin who beta'd this chapter for me. I also made some of my own minor changes and improvements. Hope it is satisfactory!
Thanks for reading and please review!