Hermione's eyes were filled with tears as she closed the door behind her, stepping away from her family, accepting defeat. After perpetual months of research and spells, trying to revert the memory charm she cast on her parents, she gave up. Her heart ached painfully. The constant praising of her knowledge and magical abilities now mere memories as she had forever erased her existence.

She felt empty, surrounded by pain and uncertainty. Something about the war had changed Hermione, the ghost of her past hunting her whenever she closed her eyes late at night, desperately awaiting darkness to consume her.

As she turned around the nearest corner of the alley, a stinging pain stabbed her chest, making her stumble against the nearest wall. Her quivering legs started to struggle, unable to hold onto her weight any longer. As gravity pulled Hermione down to the ground, her head glided numbly against the cold stones. The girl known for her incredible intelligence and extensive knowledge on magic sobbed, acknowledging failure.

A stifled laugh escaped her lips as a memory of her third-year bogart appeared before her. Discovering her biggest fear during her defence against the dark arts class was nothing compared to the jamming in her chest, ears buzzing tortuously as distress consumed her body, haunted with the agony.

Since she abandoned her friends, people that needed her once the wizarding world was declared war, Hermione felt tormented, rejecting her own reflection with disgust. Who had she become? There was no denying that her desperate attempts to become an integral part of this world were successful. People depended on her, on her knowledge. Yet the place she grew surrounded by magic and sparks of discoveries became the source of her nightmares, the place where he escaped his last breath.

The first attempt at recovering her parent's memories was the start of an isolated life, dragging herself to a world of darkness and sorrow, gradually losing hope. Yet this time, she knew she had reached her limit. When Hermione pointed her wand at her parents one last time, her palms were sweating as she cast the last spell, nervously waiting for the magic to lift the veil on their minds. Seconds turned into excruciating long minutes, her heart iced as the last flicker of love in their eyes vanished as they saw her as merely a stranger.

Seeing them this way had made her wish she had lost her sight. Yet, for months her inability to see reason lead her to stun her parents- paralyzing them for weeks while she tested spells unceremoniously. Hermine now couldn't help but questions her existence as those that had gifted it to her no longer remembered their child.

"What kind of witch am I" she cried, her voice broken, "what have I done?"

Lost in a void of grief, battling the darkness torturously engulfing her, Hermione bent her head against the brick wall, her mouth agape as no sound emanated from her constricted throat, her soul screaming in agony.

She was alone, without love, without a family - and she had no choice but to accept it.

"Father, I believe I've found what you're searching for", Draco called from one corner of the library, leaning against a Chesterfield sofa, his tired body resting from his long night in the woods.

His large fingers flipped through the book he was holding, his eyes blood red with exhaustion. Although he had been stripped from his humanity during the battle of Hogwarts, his father's curse had become his own when he realised his life was holding onto a small thread.

"I'm in the right-wing, east from the main door!"

As one of the most legendary libraries known in wizarding history, the Malfoy library was far bigger than Hogwart's great hall. Sheltering all kind of books- from literary to dark magic isles-, where generations of purebloods accumulated their collection over centuries. However, these knowledge-filled tomes were magically hidden by an invisibility cloak, keeping anyone unwanted from accessing them.

Lucius' footsteps could be heard from across the room, his steps slow and steady as he manoeuvred through the endless rows of dusted books.

His hand wiggled in front of his face, coughing profusely as small particles of dust flew towards him, his long robe disturbing the usually still air around him. As he reached his son, Lucius raised an inquiring eyebrow upon noticing the ancient novel sitting on Draco's laps.

"How did you find this son?" He asked, pointing at the book, "Severus and I searched this library before, we couldn't find anything."

"You weren't looking in the right section", responded Draco, eyes drifting from his father to a far corner on his left, "knowing you, you never bothered to look into the magical anomalies sections"

Draco could see his father jaw clench, eyes wide. "Its a ridiculously small section" snapped Lucius, "easy to overlook"

The young slytherin couldn't help but smirk at his father, "it was next to a book on muggleborn magic actually," he went on, stiffling a giggle.

"Did you call me to mock me son or show me something?" Groaned Lucius, his cane lightly hitting his son's leg, "I'm a busy man, don't waste my time."

"Busy sulking, yes", Draco laughed, eyes glistening with a glimmer of mischief.

Noticing his father's defying glare, Draco beckoned him to join him on the lounger, moving to one side whilst his eyes lowered onto the gold lines across the pages of the book.

"The draco oscula curse can only be cast by a powerful wizard whose magic has been tarnished, his soul enslaved to the devil as it offered him strength and power on earth." Draco started reading, "created during the rise of the Qing Dynasty in 1636 by a magus' dark desire to avenge the loss of his young daughter, killed by a bloodthirsty samurai."

"Draco", sighed Lucius as he moved a loose strand of hair behind his ear as he sat next to him, "as much as being back in wizarding history class makes me feel young and nostalgic, go straight to the point I'm exhausted!"

Grinding his teeth to the point his jaw hurt, Draco tried his hardest to still his breathing, legs shaking uncontrollably as range overcame him. He hated his father; there was no denying of that.

Since the battle of Hogwarts, Lucius had become the main focus of the remnant of the family that was the Malfoy. Although Draco's lycanthrope curse now consumed his soul during full moons, his suffering was silenced by his father's impending doom. He was well aware of Lucius' state of fatigue, his eyes marred with gloom under its usually glowing silver orbs, but he chose to ignore it. His whole body ached since the first transformation, his teeth kept pulsing unceremoniously whilst his eyelid twitched whenever he tried to cast magic, as if his pureblood heritage was rejecting the werewolf blood, blocking his magic.

"The incantation 'draconem serpentem morte osculi' means 'the deadly kiss of the dragon', although the book says the translation isn't as accurate as the Chinese one," indulged Draco, his left arm now into a fist in an adapt to control his growing anger. "It proceeds by saying that the cursed one is condemned to find a woman who's back has been magically stained with two angel wings and have her fall in love with him."

Lucius' head snapped towards his son, his eyes widening upon realisation, "a love curse? Why on Merlin's beard would the Dark Lord curse me with a petty love curse?" He screamed, "this can't be happening!"

"It says the magus was ruthless as he made sure that whoever became the saviour of the one under the draco oscula curse has to be what the victim despises the most." Continued Draco, the corner of his lips twitching with amusement. "The Samourai, Mo Wei, came from a poor family of merchants who believed that the girls from the Ding Shi village were all 'mistakes of nature', due to their undeniable beauty and peculiar blond locks. The magus altered his spell for Wei's saviour to be a woman from this village."

Unable to calm his angst, Lucius stood up and started pacing, his steps the only sound in the vast library as Draco studied him, uneasy by his unusual reaction.

"Do you want me to continue?" he asked, "or should I stop?"

"I'm not daft Draco. I know what happens next. The Samourai falls in love with the women but dies as she doesn't return his affection!" Snapped the elder Malfoy, his hand grasping the top of his cane angrily, "the mere thought of knowing my life is dependent on the feelings of a witch disguises me."

"It says that the wings appeared on Jin Shuren, who was the village master's daughter, during an equinox festival", spoke Draco, showing the page to his father, "everyone panicked and punished her as they believed her blood was besmirched with witch's magic. Mo We found her dying in the woods and sheltered her-"

"-but she never loved him, her mind devoted to her family, killing him", interrupted Lucius, his eyes transfixed on the tall window before him, "cunning snake" he mumbled, his jaw tightening as he remembered that dreadful night.

A faint yet audible gasp pulled Lucius out of his memory, his son's hand covering his mouth as tears now adorned his eyes.

"Mother was killed to ensure she wasn't your angelum voltem," whispered Draco, not trusting his voice.

"My what?"

Noticing his son's unresponsiveness, Lucius joined him on the sofa again, "Draco, let go" he beckoned, gently pulling the book out of his son's stiff grasp, "I'll read it."

"I want to know what it says", yelped Draco, his pained filled eyes watching his father read through the pages, "I need to know."

"Being of pure nature, an angelum volatem or winged angel is the name given to the dommed man's salvation," Lucius read, his fingers fiddling with the loose silver page marker, the smooth textile caressing his rough fingers, "however, a winged angel can only exist if she is the victim's..."

Lucius paused, reading the last word over and over again, hoping he was misreading it.

"It can't be."

Draco watched as his father lost all sense of control. With a swift movement, Lucius had violently thrown the book across the room, hitting the edge of the mahogany desk, his eyes widening with anger as magic sparked from his fingers, the hair at the nape of his back raising as magic pulsed in his veins uncontrollably. A jolt sprang down his spine as he summed the book to him, his desperation palpable as he reread the last word.

Soulmate.

Lucius' teeth clenched as he battled the rage that boiled through his veins.

"The draco oscula curse can only prevail if the soulmate of the suffering is alive," screamed Lucius, his hands tearing the page from the book before tossing it to the ground, "he killed your mother so I could die a slow and torturous death!"

Wand pointing at the book- his sanity on the brink of extinction-, Draco escaped a low growl as he jumped on his father before he could cause any damage, his hands holding onto Lucius' wrist, finger pressing on his veins to prevent him from casting any spell.

"Miss, are you alright?" Asked a worried voice, a small hand resting on her shivering shoulder, "do you need me to call someone for you? A friend or familiar perhaps?"

Hermione stayed silent as the old women reached inside her pocket and took out her cellphone, "I have enough battery on my phone to call whoever you want, just tell me their number," she said kindly.

"I'm alright", Hermione finally manage to say as she stood up, trying her hardest to fake a smile, "thank you, I simply lost track of time, nothing to worry about."

"Are you sure dear?"

The reassuring voice of the women stung her heart, reminding her of her mother's unconditional love. She had lost it all now, the consoling hugs and soothing words.

Hermione tried to battle the growing tears in her eyes, choosing to nod instead at the women, not trusting her voice to sound as assertive as she wanted it to be and turned around, heading to the nearest pub.

As the bell from the swinging door chimed loudly, Hermione stepped inside the surprisingly vacant pub, head low, eyes facing the ground as she reached the bar.

"Your strongest drink please", she ordered as she rested her heavy head on her hand, eyelids heavy with exhaustion.

"The incantation 'the deadly kiss of the dragon' means that to save you from death, you need a true love's kiss from your angelum volantem" read Draco as his father was busy calming down, "the winged angel needs to be pure. When the curse is cast, the victim has a hundred days to find his salvation."

Releasing a breath he hadn't realised he was holding since his son had grabbed the book and preceded to read the last paragraph on the cure, Lucius stepped away from the bureau he was leaning against and preceeded to leave the library.

Draco watched as his father left him without a word, his walk practically ghost-like. He said nothing, realizing that beneath it all, his father was trully suffering.

As he heard the library's door close, Draco released the tears he had been holding, his hand instantly searching for his wand. He tried to cast a repairing charm on the book to reconnecting it with the ripped page, yet it wasn't responsive.

Draco howlered in anger, his tears now burning his eyes as he fell to the ground, defeated. He had lost it all, his humanity and his identity. Who was he?

His hands were throbbing against the marbled floor, bones aching unceremoniously. Draco caught his reflection on the ground and watched his eyes in amazement. They were glowing. They weren't human.

They were those of a beast.

Upon entering his study on the other side of the Mansion, Lucius stood by the window, eyes looking into the distance.

"Mudbloods," he mumbled, "what an utter abomination!"

Thanking the bartender as he handed her a glass, Hermione sipped down the burning beverage, her throat drying instantly and mind whirling as the alcohol reached her blood.

Lowering her glazed eyes on her forearm, the long-sleeved black shirt covering her battle scar- the one that hunted her nights, covered in sweet and muffled screams. Hermione sighed drowsily.

Lifting the sleeve upwards, the scar appeared under her disgusted face, the writing carved in her skin reminding her of her failure to save her parents, her own family.

Mudblood.