Before the Incident

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**Oh, did you think BEFORE meant before present time? As in before Hermione and Draco went back to wizarding society?

...sadly nope, it means before the incident that is about to change Hermione Granger forever.

Thank you so much for continuing to follow this version of Hermione & Draco. Moments in this chapter are inspired by Red Queen by Victoria Aveyard. Just like with HP, I do not profit from or own the rights to either work. I'm sure I should have said that in chapter 1 but it just occurred to me*

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They did not speak as they got dressed and walked through the cracked doorway to the next room.
Hermione expected Draco to tease her-

You were so boney, Granger, that it would have felt better shagging BuckBeak.

That easy to get in your knickers? Some cool air, some darkness, a little Amortentia, and you'll let anything crawl up inside you.

That's your greatest truth? That you miss Mum and Dad but you're glad they won't remember their little girl?

Draco said none of these things. In fact, he wouldn't even look at her. She was glad for it. She'd have likely killed him if he said a word. Instead, he looked as shaken as she felt.
It seemed that screaming their truths and being doused with Amortentia had peeled away the callouses on their souls, and they both weren't yet used to the feel of the new skin.

The light burned Hermione's eyes, causing her to look at the world through the cracks in her fingers.

The hallway was carpeted with lush purple flowers, and artificial sunlight filtered in through the windows on both walls, chasing away the ghosts from what Hermione called the dark room. The beauty of it was lost on her.

She had meant it. She hated that she meant it.

Hermione was her parents pride and joy, and she took away from them the only thing they held dear.
Obliviating them took away the last piece of home she'd ever known. It broke off a piece of her very soul to erase her from their minds.
But she wouldn't reverse it.

To show them the scars, on both her heart and her spirit and her flesh, would break them. To let them see what she'd become was so much worse than the goodbye over biscuits and tea that she'd let herself have.

What could her parents have done against Voldemort? Dentists fighting against the darkest wizard in all of Britain?
No. No, she made the decision to protect them.

And she did not regret it.

They had turned four corners, and the scenery stayed the same. No change in the sun's posture, the flowers identical in every way.

Hermione wanted to ask Malfoy what he thought of their new predicament, but he was practically wearing a howler that blared do not talk to me or I will bite your bushy-tailed head off.
His jaw was set, his eyes locked straight ahead. He walked at a pace she could barely keep up with.

Did he hate what happened in the dark room that much?

Hermione was about to break the tense silence when the air grew faint and foggy. She slower down. Hermione could see her breath as she gasped. Behind her, a darkness eclipsed the sunlight, both literally and within her very spirit.

Dementors.

"Run." Malfoy barked out the command, gripping her hand as they flew down the springtime corridor.

Hermione glanced behind them. Four dementors, each of them reaching out with their boney fingers to taste any drip of joy and light still in Hermione and Malfoy's hearts.

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