Oblivion

Hermione's eyes were wide with hope as she beheld Harry's magnificent entry. 'Harry!' she cried in happiness and relief. 'Thank goodness. You've got to d-'

'I surrender.' Harry's succinct words echoed through the corridor, bouncing harmlessly off the walls, eventually finding their way into the ears of Miss Fawley and Hermione, where they started a riot.

'WHAT?' cried Hermione.

'You what, Black?'

Both Hermione, who'd been caught up in the act of cheering for Harry, and the rising Fawley stopped in their tracks.

'B-but Harry...!'

Harry, however, merely stowed his wand and put his hands in the air, glancing towards his unconscious friends. 'I give up. I surrender myself into your custody, Miss Fawley.'

Hermione goggled at him. There was no other word to describe her expression.

Fawley aimed her wand somewhat hesitantly. 'Expelliarmus!'

Harry merely shrugged as his wand flew from his sleeve and landed in Fawley's outstretched hands like a cold fish. Fawley gazed at him suspiciously, eyeing him and the wand in turn. 'Is this really a wand? Feels dead to me.'

A brief flicker of a smug grin flashed across Harry's face. 'Ask Hermione. That is the only wand I have.'

Fawley walked towards Hermione, who backed away until she hit a wall. 'What does Black's wand look like, Hermione?'

'I-I' Hermione hesitated. Her eyes desperately sought out Harry's as if to confirm what she should do. Harry, to her astonishment, had sat down and assumed a formal looking pose, not unlike a diplomat awaiting negotiations. He didn't meet her eyes. 'I-I don't remember.'

'Hermione, if you keep lying to me, I'll have to test both wands on Black.'

'I always believed it was a tropical wood, a dark one. Approximately eight inches,' Hermione answered in a quiet voice.

Fawley stared at the wand. Then, she waved it about. Nothing happened. Scrunching her face, she levelled it at Harry's face. 'Tarantallegra!'

But yet again, there was no reaction. Fawley's brows furrowed in confusion. 'How come it won't do anything?' she snarled angrily. Inspecting the wand more critically this time, she brought it very close to her eyes, turned it over slowly and even gave it a short experimental sniff.

'What in Merlin's merry...' She raised her own wand. 'Accio wands!'

Hermione's faithful wand jumped out of her pocket in addition to the wand in Fawley's other hand making a little jerk. 'So this really is your wand. Or at least the only wand you brought,' Fawley said, astonished.

'Yes, Miss Fawley,' responded Harry politely.

'Harry! What are you doing?' shouted Hermione, waking from her befuddlement. 'You had her knocked over! Couldn't you have done something to disarm her?'

Harry shrugged dispassionately. 'Not necessarily. Miss Fawley still retained control of her wand when she hit the ground. Therefore, she was likely to defend against any further spellwork once the element of surprise was lost. I'm no hero, Hermione. You only get one shot at such things.'

'But...but you can't tell me that knocking her over is everything you can do!' Hermione stared at him accusingly.

'Hermione, please be realistic. I know some advanced material in Charms, and I quite like the subject. But, except defending myself, I'm no genius at duelling. Look at Daphne; frankly, that girl's twice as tenacious as me, and she knows some really scary hexes. I don't know if I could beat her in a duel, and even still Fawley wiped the floor with her in a matter of seconds. How do you expect me to win against a prefect who's at the top of her year?'

Hermione couldn't help but notice that Fawley seemed to regain a bit of confidence at those words. Even though she knew that Harry was being sensible, she still couldn't shake off the thought that something was very wrong. And if the last few weeks (and especially the last hour) had taught her anything, then it was to never let go when you thought something was off.

'B-but the spell you've been learning, Harry!'

'Oh.' Harry smiled at her briefly. 'That wasn't something you'd typically use in a duel, Hermione.'

'So, you just give up? Is that it?' Hermione asked in a slight panic.

'Well, as you've heard, I surrendered myself to Miss Fawley. It's up to her now.'

'Yes, and this little bit doesn't make sense, Black.' Fawley approached him, her eyes still distrustful. 'I know you're not that stupid. If you surrender, then there's some iron-clad reason why I can't blast you to smithereens.'

'You mean besides the fact that my family will wipe out everyone you hold dear in retaliation?' Harry asked mildly.

Her eyes narrowed. 'Yes, besides that.' She flicked her wand, and it briefly pointed towards Harry and Hermione. 'I know we're alone here, and we're in an abandoned part of the castle right now, so even if you overheard me earlier, there's no guarantee that you'll live to tell about it.'

Harry shrugged. 'An astute observation.'

'M-Miss Fawley?' Hermione whined pleadingly.

'Shush, Hermione. So? What's your angle?'

Harry indicated the floor opposite him. 'Please be seated, Miss Fawley.'

'Don't go crazy on me now, Black! It's me who's holding the wand, you know.'

'Yes, I'm aware of that. But I'd still like to conduct our negotiations in a civilised manner,' said Harry, still clad in an eerie air of composure.

Fawley hesitated. Then, to Hermione's astonishment, she sat down in a similar fashion to Harry. 'So, you'd like to negotiate your terms of surrender, huh?'

Hermione stared at the pair of Slytherins as if they were aliens from the moon. Not a few seconds ago, they'd been at each other's throats, yet here they were, talking. Something was going on, something somehow related to this incomprehensible pure-blood stuff.

'No. Instead, I'd like to discuss your own situation, Miss Fawley. I'd very much like you to cease your attacks on me and my friends, personally or by a third person, to desist from meddling with Hermione, and, lastly, to stop your agenda to further your family's politics at Hogwarts.'

To Fawley's credit, Hermione thought, she didn't burst out laughing. 'And why the ruddy hell should I do such a thing?'

Harry smirked humourlessly, startling Fawley. 'Well, Miss Fawley, let's talk about your motivation for a second.'

'What are you talking about, Black? Have you gone nuts?'

'Your family, Miss Fawley. Do you love them very much?' Harry asked, still polite, yet there was something behind that little grin, and that little something was starting to give Hermione the creeps. They still have power, and they still have some rather scary things going on. Better be careful, Honey... Tracey's words rampaged through Hermione's mind, nearly deafening her to the conversation. A shudder ran down her spine.

'What the hell are you up to? Of course, I do! I'll do anything for...for my...' Her eyes widened in panic, darting across the room as if trying to remember something. 'What the-' She jumped up, walking around in a circle in an agitated fashion. She began murmuring, tapping her head with her wand once in a while.

Hermione slowly turned towards Harry, who still sat rigidly and formally on the floor.

Fawley stopped. She pointed her wand at Harry and shouted wildly, her voice thick with fury and, Hermione noted in astonishment, fear. 'What the hell have you done, Black?! Tell me! You tell me right now, or I promise I'll make you! Did you cast a second spell after your Knockback-Jinx? Did you have Hermione cast one? Tell me! TELL ME!' she screamed hysterically.

'Why, what gave you the impression that I cast such a Jinx at all, Miss Fawley?' Harry smiled predatorily.

'What...what have you done?!'

'Well, assuming that you're not really interested in the technical answer, I'd have to say that I cast an incomplete and modified memory charm on you.'

Fawley froze. 'A memory charm?' she repeated in a husky voice. 'Undo it!'

'It's not quite that simple, Miss Fawley. Usually, it takes a lot of time to use the charm with any degree of efficacy. Since I didn't have that sort of leisure, I skipped a few parts of the spell here and there. It took a while for the spell to work, and it will take a lot longer to unravel it. And before you get any smart ideas, Miss Fawley: without knowledge of which steps I skipped and precisely which memories I targeted, St Mungo's will need years and years to undo the damage.'

'You don't scare me so easily!' Fawley screeched, though her voice betrayed her dread. 'Memory charms can be undone. There are even potions for that sort of thing!'

'Usually, you would be correct, Miss Fawley,' Harry responded, lowering his head politely in acknowledgement. 'Yet it is quite possible to overload the spell with as much power as you have, and, without any intention to boast, please rest assured that my personal affinity for charms is rather substantial. To quickly undo the damage without permanently damaging your brain, you'd need an individual of uncanny skill and at least several times the power invoked in the original spell. Incidentally, such an individual exists at this very place, but I do wonder if you'd like to negotiate with our esteemed headmaster, who, I'd like to kindly remind you, would be honour-bound to present all criminal actions to the Wizengamot in his function as Chief Warlock. Naturally, healing such damage would include him reviewing your actions of this very day via Legilimency.'

Fawley continued to stare at him. It was almost comical, Hermione thought, at least if you had a really black and twisted sense of humour; the gifted prefect, armed, dangerous, cunning and superficially in control of the situation, looked completely at a loss for words when confronted with the frail, politely smiling fourteen-year-old first year.

'What have you done, Harry?' Hermione asked eventually when she couldn't bear the silence any longer.

'I destroyed all connections between her memories and her family,' he replied easily, coldly eyeing Fawley as she sank to her knees and began muttering. 'She can vaguely recall everything, but the people are missing. It's like cutting the faces out of pictures. She'll never be able to see them like she did in the past. If she were to meet her mother right now, she would likely walk past her.'

Hermione shivered again. 'That's...that's really cruel, Harry,' she said in a sad voice.

'In comparison to what? Beating her senseless in a duel? Threatening her family? Have a good look at the situation, Hermione. As soon as Miss Fawley and I come to an agreement, everything will be resolved and nobody will have suffered any lasting harm. If you can tell me a better way, any single better solution, I'll gladly consider it.'

Hermione gawked at him. She didn't have any better method, of course. How was she supposed to think of a better plan in the brink of the moment like that? Deep down, she knew that this might be a way, not the best way, true, and certainly no honourable way either. Nobody would come to harm, everything would be resolved as peacefully as possible, but still she felt pity for Miss Fawley, who had confided in Hermione that her family, especially her little brother, meant the world to her. And now that world had vanished like a cruel awakening in the morning.

'Give me back my family,' Fawley whimpered. 'I-I know I love them...B-but I can't remember! WHO ARE THEY?!' She screamed, clawing at her face with her fingernails.

Hermione, despite the disillusionment, regret and animosity she held towards the prefect she had thought her friend, stumbled towards Miss Fawley and embraced her. Fawley sank into the embrace and began sobbing heart-rendingly. 'Harry, are you sure you can reverse the effects of the charm?'

'Yes,' he answered earnestly. 'It won't even take an hour. But first: the terms, Miss Fawley.'

The prefect, however, continued to shake and sob in Hermione's arms. 'Give me back my family,' she whispered again.

Hermione shot an imploring look at Harry, whose eyes flickered away from his beaten cousin to give Hermione a cold look of determination. 'The terms, Miss Fawley.'

'Miss Fawley, as soon as you come to an agreement, this will all be over!' said Hermione in a strange mix of soothing and urging.

Eventually, the girl nodded very slightly, still buried in Hermione's arms.

Harry, taking this as a sign to begin, unrolled a long and heavily adorned parchment. 'You will publicly admit that, against the wishes of your family, you attacked me and my friends in an effort to strengthen your political clout. You will try your best to keep the House of Greengrass out of any potential trouble resulting from your confessions. You will never again mention the political dealings between your family and the House of Greengrass. You will never directly or indirectly approach Hermione, me or my friends again unless we expressly invite you to. You will never again try to instigate any other person to meddle with the House of Black's affairs or try to achieve the same end on your own.

'You will also never disclose the contents of this agreement. In exchange, the House of Black will refrain from its lawful right to attack the House of Fawley. The House of Black will make sure that, publicly, all guilt will fall to you personally, leaving your house in the good graces of the Wizengamot. I will personally guarantee that your memories will return this day if you agree to this. And, lastly,' Harry added, rolling up the scroll and handing it to Hermione, who was surprised to see some kind of magical contract spelled out, from which Harry had been citing, 'as a bit of a favour, I promise you that I'll be keeping your brother from harm next year, should any vultures descend upon what they consider weakened prey.'

'And if I refuse?' Fawley asked weakly.

'You'll forever wonder if the people who claim to be your parents aren't puppets of the Pillars or even the Blacks. In all honesty, you'll likely go mad with paranoia. You might even accidentally attack your real family. Should such a thing come to pass, your family will be finished. The Greengrass family or any other line with a better claim will likely absorb what's left of your pull and wealth at that time.

'Or, alternatively, you'll spend the next thirty years in a hospital bed wondering the very same things. Either way, as soon as the word gets out that you were responsible for the attacks on me, which, given that this is Dumbledore's school, is likely to happen, your family will cease to exist the very next day.'

Harry calmly stood up, straightening his robes. 'Take the deal, Miss Fawley, or watch helplessly as your family gets swallowed by your very personal and equally real nightmare of oblivion.