I wasn't sure what to expect when I opened my eyes. I wasn't even sure that opening my eyes was a good idea in the first place. To do so would reveal to me a life unrecognizable and unstable and as much as I was sure it made sense at one time, it was beyond what I could comprehend at that moment. So, instead, I allowed my right eye to squint, opening just enough to grasp at some blurry forms in front of me and when I grew curious, the other eye joined much to its own pleasing.

"Hermione?"

A voice spoke, a voice I didn't recognize and my head turned toward it instinctively. A boy just entering handsomely manhood stood there, mouth opened wide, his face nearly as red as his hair that moped atop his head, clinging to him for dear life. There was another boy next to him, one with messy black hair and green eyes that wore much the same expression.

"Bloody hell, what did you just do?"

The red haired boy spoke again. It was then that I realized we were standing in a room, darkened by nightfall. One of my arms was raised and I was clutching something in a shaking fist. I let it go. Whatever it was fell to the ground and lightly clattered. That drew my attention to a foot just inches away from me. I followed the black shoe up a leg, clad in black pants, over a body that was wrapped in a thick black cloak to a pale face that was staring at me in bewilderment. Standing just beside us, a tall man with no nose seemed stunned and unresponsive, his mouth dropped in a small hole shape and he was looking at nothing in particular though it seemed he was seeing things we couldn't.

"We have to go." Said the boy with the black hair and I was grabbed suddenly by a pair of forceful hands. They pulled me, yanking me hard and I found myself unable to resist.

We ran, and by we, I mean I was pulled along from the black haired boy's hand as he led me through what appeared to be an unkept house that threatened to collapse on us at any minute. Rickety old stairs led us into a passageway that spat us out through the trunk of an old and aging tree. There was a heavy smell of smoke in the air that invaded my throat, searing with every breath I took. I coughed, hard, my lungs feeling violated and heavy. There were footsteps behind me and as I glanced over my shoulder, saw that the red haired boy and pale faced man had followed behind us.

The terrain took a steep incline and I stumbled, another pair of hands grabbing me to keep me balanced and continued helping me up the hill we were now climbing.

"No, this way."

The voice connected to the hands that just grabbed me had growled direction and I found myself pulled to the side. There seemed to be no refusal from the other as the new direction came effortlessly. We were now nearing a wall of stone and as I chanced a glance up the wall, saw the outline of a castle that lingered for only a moment before a door appeared to us in the stone. It was shoved open and we hustled through, a staircase winded its way downward and I prayed I wouldn't fall. It lasted longer than I would have cared to admit, the air around us growing chilly and carrying with it a dampness, which had been better than the smoke I had inhaled, and I breathed deeply.

When we reached the bottom, the pale faced man had dropped my arm and had taken lead, guiding us through a dim corridor. We had slowed our walk, erring more on caution than haste. It was only a few more steps until another door revealed itself to us, and we were ushered through, the pale man standing to the side of the door, staring down his long, bony nose at each of us with conviction as we filed by.

I was now standing in some sort of living space as was evident by chairs and a few mismatched tables that were cluttered with papers, some of those papers were scattered over the floor as if they had been knocked into and disoriented in a rush. My interest didn't stay long there, as the door we had come in through shut with fervor and the pale man rounded on us, his cloak billowing around him as if to swallow him whole. I looked to the black haired boy who didn't seem at all phased by the man, but rather, had stiffened his shoulders and lifted his chin just so that he appeared defiant. The red-headed boy, however, had stared straight at me and I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, watching as the man snapped into a sharp turn away from the black haired boy and came at me. His lips were pulled back, revealing his teeth in a silent growl.

"What spell did you use?" He hissed, the purr in which his voice unraveled enough to send a shiver down my spine.

"Me?" I asked, and his grimace only grew.

"Do not start with the games, Granger. What spell did you use?"

"Spell?" I asked, this time quieter and even shrank back as he was now upon me, his nose a foot from mine. I could smell the stale sweetness of tea on his breath, his black eyes invading my own and I dared not look away. The black-haired boy, as if jealous of our spatial relations suddenly jumped in between us, he pushed me back, away from the man, who suddenly stood tall, his arms folding over each other.

"Move, Potter." The man said.

"I won't." The black-haired boy, now identified as 'Potter' replied.

"I'll ask once again and only once." The man said. "Move." His lips barely twitched upon saying it. His features took on such a ferocious look that I was about to move Potter myself, had it not been for the red-head who had jumped in as well. I was pushed back even further, now standing behind the both of them, and could just see that they all had some sort of sticks like the one I was holding, pointed at one another. The pale faced man was the first to back down, lowering his arm slowly.

"Circumstances being what they are, we have not time to fight among ourselves. Might I suggest we turn our attention to Granger and figure out what happened and continue sorting our differences at a later time?" He said. Potter and the red-head exchanged glances, both lowering their wands slowly, but only slightly.

"You're working with him, obviously our trust is on high alert. One wrong move, Snape and we'll be sure to hex you into oblivion."

The man Potter referred to as 'Snape' pressed his lips together, pocketed the stick he held and moved toward me, his eyes connected with mine again. I dared not look away as the intensity with which he sought my soul had me captured without much trying. Almost immediately the room swam, plunging into a bright, pure light. It was just him and I now, standing in a seamless room. On one of the spaces of white next to us was projected a large black square. It seemed to hover in mid air, there was nothing supporting it and I could easily walk around it had I not been so intently watching Snape. He had been staring at the screen, curiously, and when it remained the same he turned on me. I yelped in shock and took a few quick steps backward as he started toward me.

"Your memories, where are they?" His question didn't seem threatening, a sense of worry was obviously there, and the slight glimpse of doubt that crossed him over had me shaking my head.

"I-I don't know." My voice was weak, shaking. Memories were of no concern to me, and why he wanted them I could not fathom a guess.

"Think, Granger. I need you to show me what you did back in the shack just now. I need to see the spell you used."

"I told you, I don't know." I repeated. I really didn't know, I couldn't even recall how I had been where I was, or who the people were around me. I was also almost certain that had I memories, I wouldn't give them to him. The sneer he was showing me at that moment tugged at a disappointment in me and before I knew it we were tossed back into the living quarters where Potter and the red-headed boy were standing on either side of us, Potter glaring at Snape and the ginger once again giving me attention that I didn't exactly like. When I found the power to break away from Snape's gaze I turned, spotting a door on the far wall and took off for it.

"Hermione!"

They were screaming after me, but I didn't stop. I needed out of there as I had begun to feel like a spectacle in a circus, one of those people labeled as freaks that were scrutinized and poked at. I ran, not sure where I was headed, and not much caring as long as I got away from Potter, Snape and that other boy. I let my feet lead me, as long as they kept moving and when I met another winding staircase, I followed it up until it broke into a corridor, and then I kept running.

I could hear voices after a while, a lot of screaming, and just as I was about to break through the door that separated me from them I was grabbed and pulled back. Potter had caught up with me, his arms were around me, fighting as I kicked and screamed to be let go.

"It's a blood bath out there, just hang on a minute." He said. Attention gained, I was finally able to push his arms from me, turning to see seriousness written across his face. I glanced to the door, the screams growing clearer as if they were happening right on the other side, words I couldn't make out, hisses that cut through the air, flashes of light from under the door and thuds as if heavy things were hitting the ground soon after.

"Just tell me what's going on!" Potter pleaded. I threw my hands to my sides and pleaded back.

"I don't know."

...

We were seated in an office, large and round, with portraits of wizards that moved within their frames hanging on the walls all around us. Curious artifacts and odd looking contraptions lined the shelves on the walls. Sitting behind the desk that was in front of us was a friendly looking witch, and though she carried a hint of a sternness about her, all I could read from her silent disposition just then was confusion that about matched mine.

I was certain of a few things now, it all having been pieced together by Snape, Potter and the red-head who had been called Ronald Weasley among the retelling of the nights events; my name is Hermione Granger, Potter and Weasley are my best friends, and we were standing in the shrieking shack watching Snape hold conversation with someone called the Dark Lord, or, "You-Know-Who" as they seemed fond of calling him. Somewhere along the lines I had grabbed my own stick, a wand as I was notified, and had performed a spell that had caused a large explosion and had knocked everyone over. Snape said that the Dark Lord had still been there when we left running, the man with no nose I had seen that had appeared stunned and unresponsive. This seemed to be the biggest factor as the witch behind the desk's eyes had widened.

"Whatever spell Hermione had cast seems to have scared him enough to retreat." Harry said. He gave a halfway smile to me and I tried returning it, feeling like I failed miserably as I still had no idea what I had done exactly.

"It may only be temporary, Mr. Potter." Minerva reminded. "As for you, Miss Granger, we all would appreciate it very much if you could try to remember what you did."

My eyes rolled, and I let out a heavy sigh.

"I can't. I have no idea what even happened, where I am...who I am for that matter." It had all been said before and I was beginning to sound like a broken record player that was being ignored.

"Very well." She said in disappointment. "For now I think it's best to return to your common room. Severus, a word, if I may?"

I wasted no time in exiting her office, stopping outside her door to wait for Harry and Ronald, which wasn't a long wait as they were right behind me in a few seconds. Snape had remained behind, shutting the door softly to exclude us from further conversation with one further dark glare at the three of us.

"You really don't remember?" Ronald asked. My silence was enough of an answer.

"It sounds like an obliviation spell." Harry added.

"Obliviation spell?" I asked, and he nodded.

"If Lockhart was any proof, you're showing the same signs." Harry sounded sad, and he looked away quickly. "Come on."

"Who's Lockhart?" I asked after them as we made our way down the staircase to the hallway.

"Who's Lockhart?" Harry asked sounding astounded. "Never thought I'd hear you ask that!"

I was a little apprehensive to ask why, thankful that Harry continued explaining through a laugh.

"Back in our second year he taught Defense, worst excuse for a wizard if there ever was one. He's known for fabricating stories, obliviation got the real heroes and using their tales as his own. Quite a charmer of witches, too. You kept a get well note under your pillow from him while you were in the infirmar-ouch!"

Ronald had dug his elbow into Harry's side, giving him a look that I wasn't supposed to see.

"He's a phony." Ronald said. "Best not to remember much about him if you ask me."

"Alright, fine I won't. But that still doesn't explain to me what an oblivi-oblivara-" I struggled with the word having forgotten how to pronounce it. "-whatever that spell was I supposedly preformed."

"Obliviate." Ronald said staring at me in shock. "It's a memory charm. Erases everything you know."

Without noticing it I had halted in my step, Harry and Ronald had taken a few more before noticing I was no longer with them.

"I erased my memory?" I asked when they turned around. "Why would I do such a thing?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out." Harry said before waving us forward again. I followed, having not much of a chance to go elsewhere.