Obliviate
Chapter Three
"Lord Voldemort," Hermione whispered as she closed the door. The nape of her neck tickled as she rolled her tongue over the name.
"Lord Voldemort," she said again, walking slowly to the dresser. Does this make me some sort of Lady? He had said she was his ward, but that didn't exactly give her a clear idea of her status. Am I related to him? Hermione frowned, chewing her lip. Pure intuition, although a poor substitute for actual memories, would have to be enough to rely on for the time being. And intuition was giving her a resounding no in answer. She was sure he would have said if they were blood kin; perhaps they were related in a different way? How did it come to pass that she was in his care? Hermione groaned, shaking her head. The questions are endless!
Hermione reached the dresser, eyes sweeping over the many knobs. The man (Lord Voldemort, she corrected) had told her the gold sphere would have what she needed, but there were so many more interesting looking ones. The large red rose with the small drawer caught her attention again, along with a silver ouroboros snake that was in the center of the dresser. She sighed, reluctantly focusing her attention on the ordinary gold sphere. As much as she wanted to look through all the drawers, she didn't want to waste time and risk the chance of her Lord coming to collect her. He had said he would wait for her, but Hermione didn't have faith in his patience.
Not to mention, she wasn't looking for a repeat of the bathroom. It just wouldn't do to dawdle and have him barge in on her while she was "indecent". Hermione groaned again, banging her forehead lightly on the dresser. She really couldn't believe she'd done that.
After a few more 'thuds', Hermione drew her now slightly-sore brow away from the dresser.
"Time to get dressed then." She sighed, wearily pulling the golden knob. Inside was a neatly folded white garment along with a nude brassiere and underwear. Flicking her eyes to the door to make sure she did have her privacy, Hermione slowly unwrapped the towel before draping it over the dresser. The white garment turned out to be a simple cap sleeved dress. She shrugged. It looked nice, though in comparison to her old clothes even the curtains would be more favorable. Hermione draped the dress over the drawer and examined the brassiere. With a frown, she set to the task of nibbling her bottom lip again.
I was wearing one of these before...but it didn't have that hook in the back. Hermione gently squished the material of the cup between her fingers. Or that stiffness. Gingerly, Hermione lifted the brassiere and slid the straps over her arms. Her breasts fit into the stiff cup perfectly, and she managed to hook the back of the brassiere with only minor difficulty.
"That wasn't so bad." Hermione smiled. She slipped the panties on and pulled the dress on over her head. The garment fell just below her knees and tickled her skin. Looking back into the drawer, Hermione was surprised to find a pair of white and gold satin flats.
"What's this?" Hermione narrowed her eyes and gave the offending shoes a hard poke.
"I hardly believe the footwear deserves such hostility." Lord Voldemort commented dryly, leaning against the door frame. Hermione, startled, swirled around to face him, her wet hair slapping her face.
"They weren't there a minute ago!" Hermione protested, motioning wildly toward the dresser. She could feel her cheeks flush with irritation when he started to chuckle. "I'm not kidding!"
"And it is, of course, impossible, for one such as yourself to overlook said attire." Hermione held up her chin and huffed at him, throwing her hair over her shoulder.
"Not impossible, just highly improbable." She asserted, putting her hands on her hips.
"Well then," his voice took on a tone of mock childishness, "It must be magic."
Hermione laughed.
"Don't be silly, my Lord." She scolded good-naturedly. "I'm sure if I can't remember my past, overlooking a pair of shoes is well within my area of expertise." Hermione's jovial grin turned somber, and she dropped her gaze to her toes.
"Hermione." He was suddenly close, running a pale hand through her damp hair. "Do not fret. Lord Voldemort will teach you everything you ever knew, and so much more." One long finger ghosted over her cheek before settling at her temple, massaging her softly. Hermione leaned into his touch.
"Thank you." She whispered, raising her eyes to his. He wasn't smiling, but something in his red eyes warmed her. I believe him.
Lord Voldemort did not reply immediately. He began to rub a strand of her drying hair between his forefinger and thumb.
"I think it is nearly time we made our journey to the library."
Hermione clapped her hands together and laughed, beaming at Lord Voldemort. "Oh, yes please!" She sashayed away from him, over to the dresser to pull on the aforementioned flats. "Let's go then!" Hermione was halfway to the door when she realized that he wasn't following her. Impatient, she gave a loud sigh before turning back to him.
"You did say we'd be visiting the library soon." Hermione restrained herself from tapping her foot.
"I did say that, didn't I?" He replied, still standing on the other side of the room. Lord Voldemort was holding that same peculiar piece of wood she felt a strange lure to earlier. Her throat went dry and her flesh turned to ice when she saw him tapping it nonchalantly against the door frame.
"What is that, exactly, my Lord?" She moved closer, eyes never leaving the stick. He might have answered, but all she heard was tap tap tap.
"Stop that." Hermione spoke quietly. He slowly lessened the taps, but did not desist. Her cheeks turned to fire and she snarled, "Stop it."
This time, he did.
Hermione felt a sharp pain on her palms. Looking down, she was surprised to find her hands clenched into fists so tight her fingernails had dug in. Slowly, she opened her hands. Tiny drops of blood fell to the floor.
Too late, she realized, she had been quite rude to her Lord. Her bleeding hands trembled slightly as she looked up into his eyes. Faintly, as though an echo of a thought, she realized that her blood was the same color as his eyes.
"I...I'm sorry." Hermione whispered. His eyes bored into hers, as though assessing the sincerity of her apology.
"It was wrong of me to lose my temper like that, my Lord." Not able to take his piercing gaze any longer, she looked down at her still-bleeding hands. "I do not know what came over me."
"I do." His voice, low and certain, wrapped around her heart in an icy grip. Slowly, he placed the wooden stick into her open hands. It was oddly warm. Hermione curled her blood smeared fingers around the wood and gasped. An intense heat flooded her body and Hermione swayed from the sensation. When long, white fingers grabbed her shoulders the heat receded somewhere lower in her body, leaving her with an uncomfortable throbbing.
"This is yours, Hermione my sweet." Hermione, dazed, nodded with a vague smile. The throbbing between her legs slowly lessened in intensity, and she was much relieved when he removed his hands from her shoulders.
"I know." She said quietly, running her fingers over the wood. "I knew when you first found me." Frowning, she looked up at him. "What is it?"
He gave her an impish smirk. "Do you believe in magic, Hermione?"
She scoffed. "My Lord, that's childish nonsense!"
"Is it so far-fetched, to believe such a thing?" His serious tone took Hermione aback, and she quickly dropped her gaze.
"It...well...it just doesn't seem feasible." She offered. He tilted his head slightly and smirked.
And the room turned pitch black.
Hermione nearly screamed. She clamped both hands over her mouth to prevent herself, and in her sudden alarm, her newly found possession let loose a shower of red and gold sparks.
Hermione did scream this time, and the still sparking object clattered to the floor.
"I-I what is that?" She stuttered, heart beating rapidly, staring wide eyed at that- whatever that thing is.
"It hardly seems feasible, does it?" Lord Voldemort laughed, his mouth curling into a superior grin. Red sparks danced across his pale face. "Now, pick up your wand, Hermione."
"A what?" She tore her bewilderment away from the object in question and fixed it upon him.
"A wand," he hissed, his haughty grin slowly turning into a sneer, "and I do believe I told you to pick it up."
She didn't need to be told thrice. She bent slowly and cautiously prodded the wand with her right hand. The sparks waned in intensity, and when she gingerly picked it up they desisted completely. The wand was cool against her sweating palms, gently lulling her agitated nerves into a less erratic rhythm. Hermione smiled. How silly of me, to be startled by this.
"What is it you fear, my sweet?" Hermione had not noticed that he had bent down beside her. His long fingers danced calming, nonsensical patterns over her back and arms, further arousing a strange, warm feeling in her heart and mind. Nothing here will harm me. I am safe.
"It isn't this." She traced her blood crusted fingers over the wand. "It was just a bit of a surprise." Hermione knitted her brows and began to nibble her lip.
"Careful Hermione, lest that become a habit." He teased her lips apart with his thumb. She gave him a sheepish grin. "Is it the dark you fear, Hermione?" She gave a tiny nod of her head.
"Yes, but..." Hermione wrapped her free hand around his "…it is more than that. I-I don't know exactly how to describe it...." She squeezed his hand, asking him to understand what she could not articulate.
Her Lord leaned into her ear. "I know my sweet, I know." His breath tickled her ear. "You are afraid of all that you have lost, and the darkness is what you must face." Hermione whispered a near imperceptible yes, hand still clutching his.
Lord Voldemort helped Hermione to her feet. "I will show you how to conquer your fears, but it will not be the easiest of paths." Her eyes glimmered in their darkness, yet she gave a sharp nod.
"Very good, my sweet." He practically purred. Hermione hoped he was as blind as she was in this room, for that deep rumble had made her blush head to toe.
"You must first learn to never take anything as it appears, for nothing is ever as it seems." She felt a light tap on her wand. "You would have me believe that this magnificent artifact is nothing but a piece of wood. For magic," he mocked her words yet again, "is not feasible.I could say the same if one lost all memories of their past." Hermione bristled at this, but his next words stilled her retort. "But the fact is, you, my poor, sweet ward, have lost knowledge of yourself completely, and it is my duty as your master to help you regain your person."
"And who was I?" Hermione questioned softly. His chuckle surprised her.
"The answer is not so simple, Hermione. You are far too complex of a person to have such a limited reply, even if it was from Lord Voldemort, who knows you best. No Hermione, you must discover yourself."
"My Lord…," she found his red eyes in the dark, the rest of him invisible to her, or perhaps his body had vanished with her memories into vapor.
"Yes, my sweet?"
"I am so lost." It hurt her to admit it, even now, even to him.
"Lord Voldemort has promised to show you how to conquer your fears. I will not abandon you; no – you are mine, and I take the utmost care in protecting that which is mine." As her eyes adjusted, she could begin to distinguish the outline of his cheeks, yet his pale visage still seemed to be nothing more than a ghostly mirage in the blackness.
"Thank you. Perhaps...perhaps you could tell me where to start?"
"Think Hermione, you know the answer to that." She looked down at her wand. Yes. "Intuition told you it was yours, but why is it yours?"
"It is a part of me." Hermione had no doubt of it.
"Correct, but now tell me, what is a part of you? The wand itself is a mere catalyst for something far more great."
The words childish nonsense teased her mind. "It can't be...it's not...magic?"
"Indeed." She could see his teeth now, formed in some nightmare of a smile. "You Hermione, have – are – magic."
She desperately wanted to believe him. But to be a part of something so wonderful, something so delightfully glorious seemed too much to bear. To hope for it was painful.
As if sensing her despair, the teeth began to move. "Feeling is the key to believing. Simply showing you would not win your sense. Your Lord implores you, Hermione, to not only see, but to feel the magic. Let it flow through you, and when you feel it, it will appear. Your magic insures you will never be alone. Conquer your fear of darkness with the knowledge that you, your magic, will always be a light in the dark." Hermione could see his whole face now, and felt the air around her move to the word 'Lumos.'
What do I do? Just say 'Lumos,' and the darkness will disappear? Hermione was skeptical, but the fire of hope in her heart assured she would try.
She extended her wand and muttered, "Lumos." There was no light. Hermione tried again, again there was no light. After an exasperated sigh, she tried yet again. Still no light. Disgruntled, Hermione dropped her heavy arm and shook away the numbness.
Hermione felt him move behind her, and gasped softly when he pressed his chest against her back. She blushed when he put his hand lightly around hers.
"On the count of three repeat the incantation," he murmured, "and let yourself lose all fear of darkness."
"One."
He guided her arm back into the air. It was light as a feather.
"Two."
She clasped her fingers tighter around her wand, inexplicably unperturbed by the warmth emanating from it.
"Three."
He dropped her hand on his count. At the same time, Hermione voiced, loudly and clearly, "Lumos!" Her wand erupted in light and illuminated the room. Startled, she nearly dropped her wand, but her Lord's hand was back around hers.
"Magic, my dear, exists." Hermione gazed in wonder at the glowing tip of her wand. She could not remember the past, but she knew this was right. Hermione turned to her companion, eyes glinting with the light of her spell. It was he whoshowed her this magic, this amazing piece of her. How much had he taught her before? A curious smile spread across her flushed face as she looked into her Lord's haughty eyes. She licked her lips at his arrogant smirk, oddly pleased with his satisfaction. There is so much to learn.
"Please," she whispered with heated longing, "show me more."
A big thanks to everyone for their patience and support. My last year of high school has been extremely taxing, leaving very little time for the good stuff. Apologies for the delay in an update. This might be my favorite chapter so far...ahhh first experiences with underwide bras and magic ;)