Author's Note: Uhm, well, sorry that took so long? Life got in the way. Now that I am done with school (for the time being), I will be able to work on this more regularly – and my idea well is far from dry. Anyways, lots of important things going on in this chapter, including the introduction of a new magical concept. I hope you enjoy.

Obliviate

Chapter 05

Hermione awoke to the warm caress of sunlight, beaming in from the now open window. She stretched languidly, content to stay in bed but eager to see what she would be doing today. As Hermione moved to get out of bed, her senses were greeted by a wonderful surprise. The aroma was magnificent. She took a moment to close her eyes and inhale, enjoying the warm, sweet smell.

In a tray on her bedside table was a delicious looking meal. Hermione clapped her hands with excitement and scooted closer to the tray. On the plate were warm, thick slices of bread, with a layering of powdered sugar. Next to the plate was a glass of water and a clear jar full of thick syrup. Hermione tested it with a finger, and the taste triggered a thought. French toast and maple syrup.

She excitedly poured all the syrup over her toast, and began to eat with gusto. It was halfway through her meal when she realized how unpleasantly sticky her fingers had become. Frowning, Hermione then noticed the fork and knife sitting on the side of the tray. She delicately picked them up, shuddering at the feeling of sticky syrup under her nails, and began to eat with the utensils. It took Hermione a few stabbings before she got the hang of it.

Several minutes later, a very satisfied Hermione went to wash her hands. After doing so, she scowled at her messy haired reflection in the mirror. Hermione began prying apart the knots with her fingers, wincing in pain.

"Ouch! There has got to be an easier way to do this!" She inspected the bathroom, and noticed there were drawers under the sink. Unlike the dresser drawers in her room, they were all the same size. Among a few other things, such as a minty smelling paste, she found a brush. Running it through her hair several times and realizing that her hair was now detangling without much pain, Hermione sighed with relief.

A few minutes later, a better groomed Hermione emerged from the bathroom. She gave a small yelp when she realized Lord Voldemort was standing by the window. How is he that quiet?

"It is time for a walk outside, Hermione." His back was facing her, but she could easily hear the amusement in his voice. "It would be wise to rejuvenate your senses before you confine yourself to the library for the next century." Without turning to her, he nonchalantly strolled out of the room. Hermione huffed loudly but followed. She was halfway out the door when she realized she had left her wand behind. Quickly, she turned back and, after a few moments of frantic searching, discovered it lying innocently on her bed sheets. I must have fallen asleep with it, she surmised. Funny though, Hermione thought, I don't remember falling asleep, much less returning to my room.

Hermione followed Lord Voldemort for what seemed an age, turning down a seemingly endless maze of dark corridors. Finally, they reached a grand doorway, identical to the one she had encountered the day before save for the fact that the door knocker was a golden snake rather than a silver one. Lord Voldemort rapped the knob sharply five times and gave a sibilant whisper that was too quiet for Hermione to make out.

After her Lord's whisper, the door dissolved into thin air. The corridor became flooded with white light, and Hermione gasped, shielded her eyes in surprise at the sudden brightness. She felt Lord Voldemort grab her free arm, firmly but not roughly, and then lead her outside.

He paused after a moment and released Hermione's arm. Slowly, she lowered her hand from her eyes and looked around. She and Lord Voldemort were standing in the middle of a little dirt path, a few paces away from the now-corporeal door.

From the door, cobblestones led the pair past several very large hedges and pillars until the path split in front of a fountain. Hermione gave a small smile in admiration of the detail of the dragon shaped statue that stood in the middle of the fountain. In a silent request, she turned towards Lord Voldemort and inclined her head slightly towards the fountain, which he, to her delight, responded to with a small nod. Hermione sashayed over to the fountain and looked down into the pool. The water was clear and light, with dazzling silver and gold coins decorating the tile. A slight breeze caused the water to ripple, and the sun glinted off the coins in such a way that Hermione thought the water seemed to sparkle. A few colorful fish swam around in playful patterns. Curious, Hermione dipped her pointer finger into the water, and she giggled when the fish began to nibble on it.

"If you do that long enough, they will bite your finger off." Lord Voldemort said dully, and Hermione, with her back to him, could not see the way his lips curved into a smirk. She gasped in horror and immediately retracted her finger, giving the innocent looking fish a dirty look.

"Come now, Hermione. I have something far more important to show you than the bloodthirsty koi." He beckoned her down a pathway that led further away from the manor. Hermione could see for quite a ways without the obstruction of the hedges. From her current viewpoint, Hermione could now tell that the manor she had awoken in was massive. The manor was built from dark stone with many large windows, all but one with closed curtains. Hermione smiled slightly, knowing it was her room. Looking up, she had to bend her neck back at an uncomfortable angle to see the tops of the pointed roofs. Overall, Hermione felt the building's appearance to be somewhat unwelcoming, although she knew that the library and her room were quite the opposite. When Hermione turned to face away from the manor, she found the view to be much more enchanting from a visual perspective.

The grounds surrounding the pathway were beautiful. Little dirt paths diverged from the main one and wound around an array of vibrant and fascinating flora. She walked past a bush with tiny yellow flowers, whose fragrance reminded her of the breakfast syrup. In another spot, vivid red petaled roses wound up long stems of lilac, bell-shaped flowers in such a way they looked to be competing for Hermione's attention. They need not worry, Hermione thought, for she would be willing to spend an age exploring their beauty.

"If I wasn't being hurried, that is."Hermione muttered Voldemort shot her a look over his shoulder that suggested little patience, causing Hermione to sigh in reluctance, but nevertheless she quickened her pace.

They continued walking for a ways, past many more beautiful and bizarre looking plants (Hermione was certain that a rather sinister looking root had attempted to trip her at one point) until the path veered towards a forest. Her Lord paused. "This forest is full of dangers that you, my little ward, would find yourself quite unable to handle. I am expressly forbidding you to enter the forest, unless of course, I am in your presence. Lord Voldemort is more powerful than anything lurking in the shadows of the woods." Voldemort then turned to walk parallel to the forest, down a path so covered in brambles and grass that Hermione would not have noticed it on her own.

They walked through a small thicket of tall bushes and plants, Hermione eyeing every one with acute interest. She was itching to go examine them. Oh, how I can't wait to go exploring later. I will be able to figure out what each and every one of these is called; I am sure that my Lord would not mind if I brought a few books from the library down –

Hermione was so excited at the prospect of identifying the flora that she walked straight into Lord Voldemort, who, unbeknownst to his distracted ward, had stopped moving.

"Oh! I'm sorry! My Lord, I am so sorry! I did not –"He cut off Hermione's stammering apology with a wave of his hand.

"Hermione, you must learn to quiet your incessant internal dialogue so that you may observe the world around you. Now look."

Before the pair lay something strange. At first glance, it seemed rather unremarkable, and to Hermione it appeared to be a simple pool of water, several meters long in length and width. However, this water was considerable darker than the water she had seen in the fountain. While that water had been clear and bright, this water was dark, almost black, and the surface of the pool was completely opaque. It was considerably uninviting looking, although it took another moment of observation before Hermione became unsettled in earnest.

There was a slight breeze in the air, enough to cause a few of Hermione's curls to dance across her face, yet the water in this pool did not move. It lay completely still, without even the tiniest ripple appearing on its placid surface. The hair on the nape of her neck began to rise, and Hermione did not think it was the wind this time.

"What is this? It looks like the water in that fountain, but this is…I don't know, different."

"Yes, it is indeed. This is not water, although its consistency is similar. This is what is known as a magical reservoir." Hermione looked between him and the pool with a curious expression. Lord Voldemort quietly regarded the reservoir with an expressionless face.

"There are less than a dozen of these magical reservoirs left intact in the world. Little is known and less is understood about them, but fortunately for you, my sweet, Lord Voldemort is your teacher, and I know more than any man alive." Hermione nodded. She already knew better than to deny the authority of his words.

Not that she would doubt him, anyways.

"Essentially, these magical reservoirs are repositories of the world's most ancient and pure magic. I have examined several archaic sources regarding these pools, and it seems that they have always been uncommon, but far from rare like they are today. Over time, muggles and wizards alike have polluted or destroyed these timeless, pure vessels of magic." His face contorted into a vile sneer. "Many times, they have been intentionally destroyed by wizards acting on behalf of 'the greater good.'

"The most recently recorded circumstance was over two hundred years ago, when a wizard by the name of Jackson Jesper desecrated the reservoir belonging to an aborigine tribe in Australia. Jesper came from a wealthy English family, and initially went to Australia to do a study on the muggles' prison colonies. While there, he became sidetracked from his study, and got involved in many arguments with the Aboriginal magical community, which consisted of several scattered tribes. The tribes did not use wands for magic like the English did. Instead, they relied on a combination of elemental magic and the reservoir. Their magic lay not in their wands as it did with the English; rather, they gained magical energy in their environment. If there was drought, they would tend the fields with their hands, and by harvest season there would be no finer crop. Instead of casting a spell to purify saltwater, they could hold it in their hands, concentrate, and by willpower the salt would evaporate. This type of elemental, Old Magic is virtually extinct today. The wizarding world has gained efficiency from the wand, and it serves as a powerful catalyst for harnessing magic - I have shown you this already. However, wizards are also handicapped by the convenience of the wand: very few wizards and witches have the ability to summon their magic without the use of their wand."

"But you can." Both of them knew Hermione's comment was not a question.

"Of course." He purred. "Lord Voldemort is not a lesser wizard, and I serve none. My wand serves me, not I it.

"The reservoir was used mostly for healing and alchemic purposes, or rituals for guidance. You see, Hermione, these magical reservoirs are not simply pools of magic. They are sentient. They can offer the greatest power and wisdom…if offered. Unfortunately, it is very rare to find a witch or wizard who has the power to directly harness the power of the reservoirs. These people are known as Shamans of the Reservoir, and they are the only people completely endowed with the ability to communicate with and utilize the reservoir without harm. They are the only ones who can exert even a modicum of control over the reservoirs.

"In nearly all recorded cases, reservoir shamanism is hereditary. In addition, the power extends to all members of the family to a certain extent - albeit they would have less of a direct connection. In the area Jesper was studying, the Aborigine tribes had the unbelievable fortune of having shaman lineage; in their history, there had always been a reservoir shaman. As these tribes were fairly small and had a tight-knit community, the reservoir of this particular area seemed to have a familial relationship with not only the shaman and his family, but the community in general. Throughout history, many shamans have been hunted down due to their unique and extraordinary gift, making the situation of the Aborigines even more unique in the sense that they were allowed to thrive.

"Since the reservoirs are sentient, they can, if you will, decide the fate of whoever comes into contact with it. If a child of the village was to playfully jump in and swim, no harm would pass. The villagers who revered this reservoir could freely borrow its essence for their potions and spell work. The reservoir can feel if ill intent is present, and will react accordingly. If one was arrogant enough to believe he could take without asking, or had deluded himself into believing he could fully harness the powers of the reservoir without consequence, the reservoir could consume the fool in question. Reservoirs can literally eat away at magic. Indeed, it is wizarding legend that this is how the reservoirs contain magic. Only a shaman is truly safe to discover the secrets and power the reservoir offers, although, as I have described to you, that does not mean that a reservoir is openly hostile to everyone save the shaman. This is another serious misconception most magical people have regarding reservoirs.

"Many wizards and witches have fooled themselves into thinking they are shamans. Any attempt to control a reservoir, without having the gift of the shaman, will yield disturbing and often deadly results for any fool who tries. This is one of the reasons magical reservoirs are so hated by wizards. What a power it would be, to be able to utilize the most powerful of magical resources, something Jesper was incapable of, despite how well educated he was. It must have been…quite the humiliation."

Lord Voldemort's passive face morphed into a sneer. "Jesper justified his reasons for polluting it by claiming the reservoir held 'dangerous and untamable magic, and that the uncivilized Aborigine clan was ignorant of its malevolent power.'" Lord Voldemort's sneer then turned into a smirk. "It was not until after he had fouled the reservoir that poor, ignorant Jackson Jesper was shown the true power of the reservoir: after he polluted it, the aborigines forced him to drink straight from the now toxic reservoir."

"And what happened to him?" Hermione asked, staring at the smooth surface of the water. The wind had grown stronger, enough for Hermione to cross her arms at the chill, but still not even the slightest ripple disturbed the surface of the water.

"It is said that the reservoir, in a final act against its contaminator, infected him with a poison that slowly ate away at his skin, causing it to rot, while leaving his internal organs untouched. The reservoir dried up the moment after Jesper pulled his lips away from the water. Jesper spent the rest of his days in agony, locked away as a permanent patient in a remote hospital. This was funded by his parents, who were so horrified at his visage that they insisted he remain at an institute far from civilization. They never saw him again. One of Jesper's doctors recorded his patient's constant screams and complaints of pain; apparently, the feeling of having one's eyeballs slowly eaten away is most…uncomfortable." Lord Voldemort said with a dark grin.

Hermione thought that did indeed sound rather uncomfortable. Actually, the whole story was a rather uncomfortable one.

"What do you think of that, Hermione? Do you feel pity for poor Jesper?"

The manner in which Lord Voldemort was regarding her gave Hermione pause. He had asked the question casually, not looking at her but still at the reservoir. However, there was an underlying tone present that told Hermione to answer carefully.

"I find his fate gruesome. I can't begin to imagine the pain he must have gone through. But…" Hermione paused, biting her lip. "I could never wish that sort of agony on another human being…but I cannot say I feel sorry for the man. He destroyed a whole community's way of life due to his imperialistic attitude and bias. I pity Jesper's ignorance, but no, I do not pity Jackson Jesper himself." Lord Voldemort gave her a quick, sharp look of approval, and Hermione felt her stomach leap.

"Good. He feared a power he could not understand. That is mankind's greatest vice." Her Lord moved closer, close enough so Hermione could feel his breath on her forehead. "Remember last night, my sweet, when I told you about those who hurt you, those abhorrent enemies of mine?" Gently, he ran a finger up her side, exactly in the place where she had experienced the stinging pain. "They are an organization known as The Order of the Phoenix. They thrive upon targeting powerful magic that is not easily understood or contained. I loathe them more than anything, and it has become my goal to destroy them." Lord Voldemort spoke quietly, but his words dripped with seething hatred. Hermione, feeling nervous in the wake of his anger, sought to distract him.

"How did Jesper destroy it?"

"Jesper polluted the reservoir by concocting a potion that required the venom of several very specific, very poisonous amphibians and reptiles. The animals whose poisons were included in the polluting potion are not all found in Australia, but due to his wealth Jesper was able to get ahold of their venom."

Hermione thought that seemed like a rather simple way of polluting the reservoir, despite the fact that the animals were found in different parts of the world. "Why would that pollute the reservoir, if it is supposedly invulnerable to all magical enchantments?"

"There are other unknown and unrecorded ways of polluting the reservoirs; this is simply the only known one. The recipe for the potion Jesper used was an old one, and there is no grounded evidence as to why this particular combination works.

"My theory as to why the venom of such geographically varied creatures was needed? Locating and finding them was and is such a dangerous and laborious task and few have the skill or willpower to find or seek them out. Jesper was a weak and terrible wizard, yet possessed gold beyond measure. Like the true aristocratic craven that he was, he let others do his dirty work.

"I am glad that these magical reservoirs are a relatively unknown entity to the wizards and witches of this generation; I believe humanity, as terrible as it is, would seek to destroy the rest of these magical repositories if they became common knowledge.

"The reservoir is conscious, to what extent, only the dead shamans know." Lord Voldemort then gave a wicked smile that caused Hermione's skin to prickle in fear. "However, while only a shaman can successfully control and use the reservoir to its fullest extent, the reservoir itself can communicate with anyone. This makes many wizards afraid of and even more resentful towards them. Being that close to power but unable to control it – it has a way of making men spiteful, rather than thoughtful, and instead of trying to understand why and how it is possible for a non-organic creature to do this, wizards destroy them. It sickens me." He hissed.

"You mentioned earlier that they were aware of one's intent. If one intended to abuse its power, the reservoir could act against the individual in particular. You said that these reservoirs could literally consume those with a nefarious plan for the reservoir – what would happen in the circumstance if an altruist came across the reservoir? If one wanted to use the reservoir in a way that positively benefit the lives of others, and meant no ill will in doing so, the reservoir would not be dangerous? In fact, would it not offer its power?" Hermione asked, head spinning with questions about the rare and complex magical pool in front of her.

Lord Voldemort paused, and a wicked grin spread across his face.

"No. Each reservoir has an individual personality, if you will, for lack of a better descriptor. The one from Jesper's tale felt a kinship to the community at large and treated them in an almost caring manner. However, the one before us now is rather different. From what I have ascertained from studying this particular reservoir over the years and reading the personal journals of former owners of this manor, is that this reservoir is quite…devious."

Hermione felt her face grow pale, not liking the sound of that at all. "How so, my Lord?"

"This reservoir seems to have a penchant for deceit, and more specifically, seems to have a particular fondness for tricking the feeble-minded and naïve. Over the past hundred years, it has attempted to lure several wizards into drinking its essence, regardless of their personal intentions toward using the reservoir. Once, I and a man named Abraxas witnessed one such fool give into temptation and drink from this pool. As soon as he touched his lips to the pool, the reservoir took hold of him and dragged him down. It happened in mere moments. There was no chance that either I or Abraxas could rescue this man once the reservoir claimed him, and for three days, the reservoir kept him beneath the surface. On the third day, I found his body lying by the side of the pool, not far from where you are standing now." Lord Voldemort motioned perhaps a mere foot in front of Hermione, who gingerly took a step backwards.

"His veins had turned black and stood out like ink stain against his skin, and his eyes, once green, were no different than the surface of the pool you see in front of you now, Hermione."

Hermione was frightened. She opened her mouth in silent horror, and, not knowing what else to do, reached for her Lord's arm with trembling fingers. With this, Lord Voldemort finally diverted his gaze from the reservoir to Hermione, a hard look on his face.

"I am telling you all this, Hermione, so you know to walk away from this reservoir if you ever hear a voice inside your head. Do not let it delude yourself into thinking you can harness its power. As I said, this reservoir has a tendency to prey on the feeble minded and naïve, and while you certainly possess an able mind, you are fragile; your mind and body wiped blank of memory and experience. You are tabula rasa incarnate, and therefore in extreme danger of the reservoir in front of you.

"I know that there will be times when you wander this property unaccompanied, and while this area is well hidden it is not far from the manor. There will be times when you venture close. Do not respond to any inclination you may feel to draw near. Ignore it and leave the area immediately. It will try to lure you with a siren's song attune to your desires. Do not let it tempt you. The lure of such wisdom is understandably enticing, but for you, it will mean death. Remember that, Hermione."

He then offered her his hand. With their fingers laced together, the pair silently walked away from the still pool of water.