Confused Memories

"Now, my dear... you have nothing to be afraid of. You won't feel a thing," a man murmured from the darkness.

Mac shuddered at the sound of the malevolent tenor voice. The man had been taunting her for hours now. She struggled at her bonds weakly.

How had she gotten into this mess? She should've known better than to take leave. Nothing good ever came out of it. Now, she was stuck somewhere in London; she had no idea where. Only one person knew where she was, and she wasn't expected back for another week. She was being held captive by a madman. Could her day get any worse?

She jumped as she felt a brush on her cheek. Okay, so perhaps it could. She couldn't see through the blindfold, but she could picture how the man must look.

"So beautiful..." her captor breathed. He walked behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders. "And so powerful, too. I like that." He started to unbutton Mac's blouse. She tried to avoid his hands, but her bonds held fast.

"Now, now," the man crooned. "You aren't afraid of me, are you? Why would I hurt a pretty little thing like you?" He reached for her skirt.

'No!' Mac thought wildly. 'Please no, please no, please...'

Suddenly, the edge of a knife scraped against her skin. Mac went completely still. "Good girl," the man purred.

Mac had one overwhelming desire at that moment--to get the hell away from her would-be rapist. A kaleidoscope of images tumbled through her mind as she panicked. She latched onto a peaceful scene. It was of a huge castle that dominated the landscape. A nearby lake rippled with a soft breeze... or was it by a large squid swimming through its depths? A large man with a bushy beard crossed the grounds, whistling to a boarhound sitting beneath a towering oak. 'I wish I was there,' Mac thought fuzzily. Her mind focused. She could nearly see herself in the picture.

Suddenly, her world lurched. The cold, damp air of her cell was replaced by a warm breeze against her skin. Her mind registered someone yelling a strange word before the world went black.

---

Hermione Granger walked along the shaded, woody path toward Hogsmeade. She had a few packages to pick up at Flourish and Blotts, and had decided to just spend a nice, relaxing day in the village.

Hermione was extraordinary in many ways. She was a well-known war hero. She had survived battles with the most evil entity in five decades before graduating at the top of her class. She had earned the highest scores in the history of her school. She was a popular teacher at said school, after retiring from a successful, if short, career in law enforcement. And she was a witch.

Hermione was the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the only wizarding school in all of Britain. It was her second year holding the position, which made her especially famous--no professor had stayed in that job for more than one year since Hermione's first year as a student.

She had been accepted into Auror training as soon as she had graduated from Hogwarts. It had been expected, really, that the "Golden Trio," as she and her two friends Ron Weasley and Harry Potter had been christened by the Daily Prophet, would join the ranks of the Aurors after defeating Lord Voldemort. Hermione had gone through the mandatory three years of training (coming out at the top of her class, of course), and had served one year as a full-fledged Auror. She had heard from her favorite professor and mentor, Minerva McGonagall, that there had been an opening in the DADA position. She had applied, and been accepted, immediately. Mad-Eye Moody had not been happy, but had told her to teach the children "constant vigilance!"

Hermione smiled and closed her eyes, allowing the sun streaming through the canopy of trees to warm her face. All of a sudden, she heard a loud 'crack'. She knew that noise well--it was the sound of a person Apparating.

Hermione whipped out her wand and ducked behind a tree. She peered out from behind it. "What in the world...?" she muttered. A dark-haired person--it looked like a Muggle woman, from where Hermione stood--lay in the middle of the path, bound hand and foot. Still, Hermione hadn't lived through a war to take chances now.

"Stupefy!" she called. A jet of red light shot from her wand and hit the woman, who immediately slumped over. "Mobilicorpus!" The body hung in the air like a puppet with its strings cut. Hermione started the trek back to the castle. It looked like her trip would have to wait another day.