Obliviator by KiRa M. EmeRaLd
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns. Need I say more?
A/N: Please note that it does get a little intense/creepy in the upcoming chapters, but things will even 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.
Erasing 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.
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. Draco had always agreed. But one thing he had learned as an Obliviator, is that it's much easier to hide, than to 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 muggles wouldn't burn Diagon Alley down with their bombs, and machinery, strictly out of fear. Since the beginning, both worlds have lived alongside in passable harmony, but nothing could take away the chaos that newfound concern brings.
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.
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 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 that would lead him further up the Ministry. One that he had intended to lead him to a bigger, and better job. Where Draco's father had been handed prestige within the Ministry, Draco had to earn it. He needed a job that would put the Malfoy name back in good standing.
Those opportunities did eventually come. He rejected them.
Draco 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.
It used to disgust him. He used to feel sorry about it. And now? He seeked solace in the small bits of pleasure he could steal for himself. It indulged him. He couldn't stop, not that he hadn't tried. He really had, honest. But she was his drug. She was the sun, the moon, and the stars. He could not give her up so easily.
She would hate him if she knew... but he was an Obliviator, after all.