Obliviate

Chapter One

"I am your master." The man stated simply, placing a cool hand gently on her cheek. "And you are my young ward."

Hermione sighed in contentment. If he was her enemy, he would have hurt her already. She was safe. This man was her protector.

"I suppose I should be grateful that it was you who found me, then." She smiled up at her keeper. "But pray tell, does my Lord have a surname for me to address him?"

"Content yourself with 'My Lord' for now, dear Hermione. You have had a rather taxing day." He began to lightly stroke her cheek with his long fingers.

Hermione shivered again. Although this man claimed to be her master, his touch felt foreign. The temperature of his hand brought something back to her attention.

"My Lord, would you please tell me why I'm lying on the floor?" Her Lord's hand stopped moving at the question. Looking up at him she was startled to see how angry he looked. There was a deadly fire behind his eyes and his lips curled back in a feral growl. Hermione's eyes widened and she scooted away from him.

"When a Lord displays great power, he is bound to attract attention from a myriad of sources. While I have gained many…devoted followers, my powers have made others very envious. I have many enemies, Hermione, though few are worthy of notice." The man stood up in a swirl of black robes and stalked over to her, the terrible flame of anger still burning in his red eyes.

"Not an hour ago my followers were engaged in a small conflict with a few of these worthless nonentities. One of them had something I desired, and I had given the more cunning of my followers the task of retrieving this item. Such a simple task it was…" The man seethed, clenching his fists until they were chalk white.

Hermione watched him, too scared to move any further distance away from this man.

"Things didn't go as planned, I take it?" She said in a high voice, balling her hands into fists and tucking them under her chin.

"Not in the slightest." He once again knelt down beside her. Hermione abruptly turned her head the other way, trembling with fear. She felt the tips of cold fingers on her chin.

Please don't hurt me.

"Now is not the time to be afraid, Hermione." He whispered into her ear. If it was possible, he seemed even closer than when she had first opened her eyes. Slowly, he turned her head toward his.

The inferno of fury in his eyes had simmered to a mere spark. Hermione gave another sigh of relief. His face was no longer contorted with rage. Instead, he looked rather removed of all emotion.

"More people arrived, enemies of mine who are a far greater threat than their useless peons who had my item. These people, who call themselves an Order, fought well enough, but my loyal followers had the upper hand. It was not until their leader arrived that my plan truly went awry. They captured nearly all of my best men and destroyed the object that I had sought." Hermione lay a still shaking hand on his, giving her master as much comfort as she could. He took her hand and massaged it to stillness.

"The mission may have failed, but I gained something even greater than what I originally sought." Hermione looked quizzically at him, but his only response was a private smile. He did look very pleased with himself.

"But they are the reason why you lay upon the floor. They are the reason why you cannot remember." Hermione felt tears swell in her eyes, but these were not the tears of hopelessness that had washed over her face minutes before.

"What did they do to me?" She whispered in quiet anger.

"They attacked you," She raised an eyebrow and his lip quirked, "and left a very harmful wound upon you." He motioned toward her stomach. "A very deep cut between your ribs. If I hadn't arrived in time you would have lost more than your memory." He tucked an errant curl behind her ear. "I had to get you back to my manor as soon as possible, and this was the place that happened to be the most convenient and safe to keep you until you had woken."

"But-but what about my dream? It seemed so important...less of a dream and more like a look into one's life. Was it just a trick of theirs?" She snarled, unknowingly gripping her nails into her Lord's hand.

"It was just a dream, your mind playing tricks on your weary self. Nothing more, nothing less." Their eyes locked. "I told you, the dream is gone. It would be best for you to forget that you even had it." Hermione nodded. She looked down and saw that her nails were set firmly in her Lord's hand, and he was bleeding because of it. Horrified, she released it immediately, searching her Lord's eyes for that terrible anger.

She found nothing but self-satisfaction.

Why would he be pleased to bleed?

Her Lord offered her one of his pale hands. She took it delicately and was abruptly brought to her feet, swaying slightly from the strength in his grip. When her master let her hand go she gasped and swayed precariously.

"Your Lord has already healed your wound." His eyes narrowed. The man grabbed onto her right shoulder to keep her from falling. "What ails you now, Hermione?"

"There is no pain, My Lord…" Hermione paused. The grip he had on her shoulder was almost painful, but she had no wish to anger her volatile savior. She took a deep breath. "But I…I cannot…I seem…I don't remember exactly how to walk, my Lord." Her cheeks turned hot and she ducked her head, mortified.

He chuckled.

"So we can remember how to talk;" her blush deepened and he smirked, "but not to walk? Well this just won't do at all, my dear, not at all." His hand left her shoulder and he moved in front of the room's open doorway, blocking the only exit.

"Better start remembering. Don't worry, you won't fall. We can't have you injuring yourself so soon after that nasty…accident." His smirk turned into a frightful scowl. "Now start."

Hermione extended her arms to maintain balance, though it did little to stop her wobbling. She took a deep breath and slowly picked up her right foot. Not knowing what to do, she raised it to be level with her knee.

It was harder to stay balanced that way.

"That's far too high; merely lift your foot slightly above the ground." Hermione immediately dropped her right foot with a loud stomp. She closed her eyes and grimaced at the sound. Cautiously, she raised her left foot this time, just a hair above the floor, and set it down almost silently.

"That's not so hard, is it now my dear?" He leaned casually against the door frame, twirling what looked like a wooden stick between his fingers. A chill ran through Hermione. "Keep going."

She took another step, this time with more confidence. "What is that?"

"This?" He danced his fingers over the stick. Hermione frowned. She didn't like that.

"Obviously," she said, slightly surprised at the anger in her voice. Another step. "Tell me."

He shook his head and gave a cold laugh. "Manners, Hermione, manners. Can you not even remember the simple etiquette of treating your master with respect?"

While this only served to further infuriate her, Hermione knew she would have to hold her tongue. "Please," she smiled daggers at him, "tell me." She was halfway across the room now, concentrating solely on the slim piece of wood.

That's mine.

"This is indeed yours." She stumbled slightly and staggered to the wall, staring wide eyed at the man. He laughed again.

"You wear your thoughts on your face, my dear. You would do better to disguise them so as to not get caught unawares." He tucked the stick into his voluminous robes, eyes dangerous slits. "I will save this lesson for later. Before you get any more questions answered, you will walk over here. Get away from the wall!" Startled again, this time at his irascible command, Hermione immediately shoved herself away from the wall.

She walked quickly and awkwardly over him, still half expecting to fall over. Soon she stood before him, torn between wanting to yell at him and cowering on the floor. She chose to do neither, but rather crossed her arms and huffed indignantly.

"Good girl." His eyes lost some of their harshness, and he put a cool hand on her shoulder. "Now you are to come with me. It's time for you to come home."

He guided her out of the room and past a few barred cells. When he had said dungeon he had not been exaggerating.

Why here? Why would he put me here? Well, he said it was the most convenient and safe place. He was just looking out for me. Who would expect to find me in the dungeon of my own keeper? Yes. Very safe.

When they reached the narrow, dark stairway that lead up from the dungeons, Hermione gave the man a baffled look. Stairs were beyond her newfound ability.

And so her keeper, her protector, her master swept her up into his arms and carried her up the stairs and into the home which she could not remember.