Obliviate

Chapter Twenty | Unbound

It was at sunrise the following day when Draco received a letter from Gellert Grindelwald announcing his attack on Hogwarts Castle - and the beginning of the downfall of Lord Voldemort.

When Hermione awoke, all she could think about was the smell of sandalwood and cinnamon that still lingered over her body from Draco's hands the night before.

The taste of his lips still danced on her tongue - yet when she held his hand and began to take him to her room, all he did was plant a gentle kiss on her forehead and told her he would see her tomorrow before he disappeared into his own room, leaving Hermione in the dark.

Her mind was a broken record - replaying the memory over and over until it had distorted itself into an unrecognisable state.

He seemed disconnected.

The passion and power that drove him before must've ran out, Hermione thought to herself as she pulled her legs into a new pair of underwear that had magically appeared in her ottoman that morning.

In a way, all the mixed signals made her feel empty. Emptier than normal.

Because in a way, being in Paris with Draco had been the beginning to restoring the small parts of Hermione that seemed to be a void inside. The lack of the mind healers, the lack of Death Eater's. The lack of the Dark Lord.

The gain that was a different life.

When Hermione drifted off to sleep the night before, she no longer dreamt of the dark magic that laced Hogwarts walls. She dared to dream of her life now - she seemed to be the princess in her own story.

Dancing on top of the Eiffel Tower, dressed in pure white. Her own Mr Darcy spun her under his arm and lifted her into the air above, as if she were a feather. The breeze brushed lightly against her skin as she felt like the queen of the world.

She didn't hear the screams she dreaded so much to hear in her nightmares. In her mind, she had her own orchestra.

The creativity of happiness. Laughing, being free.

For every time she slept now, she felt more free than ever.

Hermione pushed herself out of bed, knowing that tomorrow she'd wish she'd never have to get out of bed again. She allowed the morning sun to catch her body as she walked over to her bedroom window, looking out at the street below.

Autumn was settling in. The leaves that hung from her neighbours windowsills had began to crisp into a golden brown. The flowers were at their peak - and in a week or two, they would dry out and fizzle into nothingness, ready to bloom again next year.

Just like her, she thought to herself as she inspected the world around her.

Hermione was at her peak. But just like the flowers, she'd shrivel away and die on the inside a little more the moment she walked out of the flat for the last time.

She inhaled deeply, releasing the air in her lungs and turning away from the window. Hermione walked over to the armchair that sat in the corner, picking up her robe and sliding her body into it. She could feel a deep set hunger inside of her.

Cinnamon swirls were all that were on her mind.

And a coffee, too.

Just before she was about to exit her room, the book Malfoy had let her read caught her eye. She hadn't yet finished it due to the lack of time, and well, the increase in stress. She pondered over to her bedside table and swooped the book into her hands and left the room.

Hermione walked straight into the dining room, placing the book gently onto the tabletop and pulled a chair out from underneath the table. Just as she was about to seat herself, she noticed Draco was stood by the kitchen window.