Disclaimer- I am not J.K. Rowling

Obliviate

Prologue

Whirling, twirling, spinning.

The bright world was dancing to an eccentric ballad only it could keep pace to. Around and around it went, blazing brilliantly over her head, mesmerizing her with its movements.

She tried to watch it dance, but it hurt too much. The pain had spread to every corner of her person.

Whirling, twirling, spinning.

Reaching out, she tried to grab it; but the pain seized her body in its crushing grip, and with a gasp, her hand fell to her side. Still, the luminous world danced around her face.

It was all too much. She was losing a hopeless battle to the pain. It had her whole body aflame with its agonizing burn.

Suddenly, the shining world disappeared. Darkness eclipsed her, moving over her face and cocooning her body. The darkness was cool as it caressed her burning skin, somehow absorbing her terrible pain.

She sighed as the darkness soothed her, allowing it to move swiftly into her mouth, entering her body, welcome as water in the desert. She could feel it moving within her, absorbing all of her pain into itself.

Sweet relief. The pain was gone. The darkness crept out of her body and disappeared, taking all of her agony with it. She was now free to stare at the bright, glittering world around her.

Smiling, she reached up to touch it, but quickly recoiled. The world burned worse than her pain had. She tried to back away from it, but she was held in place by invisible bonds. To her horror, it came dancing closer and closer to her then it had ever had before.

She screamed when the world finally came crashing down.

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The girl felt as though she had woken from a very long, very exciting dream. It had started like most lovely dreams do; with the warm feelings of contentment and happiness. The dream had then taken a dramatic turn, and she had been in her own mind's peril. But before the climax, the girl had slipped out of her dream world and back into reality. The very second she had woken up; all memories of the dream had faded, never to return to their creator.

She couldn't shake the feeling of disappointment. This dream had seemed very important to her. This is why she had her eyes clenched shut, determined to lull herself back into sleep in effort to return to that most magnificent dream.

It was very hard to. Whatever it was that she was lying on was very cold. As a matter of fact, the room she was in was decidedly chilly. The girl knew that if she even squinted that all chances of falling back into slumber were impossible.

She squeezed her eyes a little tighter.

You know you're going to have to open your eyes sometime. You've got better things to do than laze about all day like a great lout.

Frowning, the girl bit a corner of her chapped lip.

Is there anything I should, even could be doing right now? Was I doing anything before I fell asleep?

She squirmed a little bit on what she know recognized as a stone floor. Her frown deepened and her lip started to bleed.

I can't remember a single thing! Why was I sleeping on the floor? Good Lord, what's my name?

The girl started to weep. Tears forced themselves out from behind her eyelids and down her face. She continued to cry for a few minutes before she started to process her thoughts again.

I must not be fully awake yet, it must be a post dream haze. Yes. That has to be it. There's no other logical explanation for this silly memory loss to be anything else.

Somewhat satisfied with that conclusion, her tears slowly abated but never fully stopped as the girl tried to content herself with her own explanation.

I must really be out of it. I'm so tired I can't even stop crying. Perhaps I should just rest a little while longer. Once I have all of my energy back I'm sure this forgetfulness will pass.

Now nearly fully convinced, the girl tried to make herself more comfortable, but to little avail. The girl sighed and gave up, surrendering to the hard floor. She had nearly drifted off into a light doze when a draft colder than the room swept over her. The girl whimpered and tucked her fists under her chin, determined to ignore the distraction.

Her bed of stone vibrated lightly as something paced around her curled form. Whatever it was moved so silently that she could barely here the swishing of the intruder's clothes. The person stopped moving after circling her three or so times. She felt another small gush of cold air as the intruder bent down over her.

The girl was now very annoyed. She wanted, no needed, to go back to sleep, and this intruder was making that task very difficult.

If I ignore him, maybe he'll go away…

She rolled over to her other side, tuning her back on the intruder. The girl heard the intruder stand up and walk away from her. She smiled in satisfaction.

A smooth chuckle broke her victory.

"Open your eyes, my dear. I know you're awake." The intruder had a very sharp, clear voice, one that was definitely male. His voice suggested that he was very pleased with himself, though she did not know why.

"I just had the most fascinating dream…but I can't seem to remember any of it." The girl mumbled. "I can't remember anything, actually. That's why I'm trying to go back to sleep."

"You think that sleep will help you remember?" The man asked quietly.

"Of course it will. There isn't any other possible reason…"She drifted off, already close to falling back asleep.

The man laughed again, very coldly this time. It was not at all a pleasant sound.

"The dream is gone, Hermione." Is that my name? "It will never come back." The man bent down even closer to her face. She could feel his breath on her cheek.

"Open your eyes." What linger of a laugh had been in his voice had now evaporated. This was a command. Something inside Hermione, if that was her name, told her she should obey the man.

Sparkling rubies. These were the first things Hermione saw when she opened her eyes.

"Beautiful…"She moved her hand to touch one, but instead of touching a cool stone as she had expected all she felt was smooth skin.

These were no precious gems. What she had though were rubies were actually eyes that belonged to a pale, emaciated face. She gently ran her fingers over his face, tracing the area below his eyes. Something seemed like it was missing. His lips, which were curled up into a smirk, seemed very thin. Her own seemed much puffier than his.

Hermione could not recall what she, or any other, might look like. For this reason she was unafraid of the man's appearance before her. There was no comparison.

Finally, after her exploration of his face, she asked,

"Who are you?"