            Hermione set her jaw and closed her eyes, concentrating her magic into the unfamiliar wand. When she felt it contained within the slender piece of wood, she let out a breath and whispered, "Furantur Memoria." For a moment, Hermione worried it hadn’t worked—she’d only read of the memory extraction spell, but had never used it in practice. But after a few seconds, the shimmering, silvery memory slid out from the girl’s temple. It dangled from the tip of the wand, curling into the air. With no vessel for the memory, Hermione raised the wand to her own head. The memory seemed to sink inside her, icy cool as it slipped beneath her skull. She saw it, like a gritty film. She saw herself, kissing Lucius on the bed. But when the kiss deepened further than the actual memory, and Lucius pulled that zipper languidly down her back, Hermione shoved the memory to the back of her mind.