Out of the Silent Planet

Title: Out of the Silent Planet (6/39)
Author: moirasfate/ianthe_waiting
Rating: MA/NC-17
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter books and their characters are the property of JK Rowling. This is a work of fan-fiction. No infringement is intended, and no money is being made from this story. I am just borrowing the puppets, but this is my stage.
Genre: Plot driven smut, Darkfic, Romance, Drama, Angst...
Warnings: M/F, Bondage, slight non-con, Dark!Draco, and HBP spoilers.
Summary: Post-Hogwarts - Hermione Granger fulfills Severus Snape's final wish, to journey to Japan to ‘retrieve' something of importance. Set eleven years after HBP.
Author's Notes: This is my first DM/HG ficlet, so please be kind to the newbie! The title of this fic is taken from C.S. Lewis' book, first in the Perelandra Chronicles. This chapter is a little shorter than the ones previous, but I wanted to give you a bit of cliffhanger...


Again, many thanks to kazfeist for her help and her kindness!


Out of the Silent Planet
Chapter Six – Of vows, secrets, and the fate of one.



“The boy... Was his name Draco Malfoy?”

Lady Kaori’s eyes shot to Hermione’s, pleading for something Hermione could not identify. Hermione’s brows knotted and she glanced at Lady Fuumi who was gripping the metal poker so tightly the knuckles of her hand were turning purple.

“Or did Severus give another name? Severus did bring the boy here, did he not?” Hermione asked forcefully, her eyes flashing. Lady Kaori flinched and the old woman sighed.

“Young Master brought a boy here. The boy was worse off than the young master, mad as could be. We attended to them both and when the young master was well enough he put the boy into a deep enchanted sleep. It was only two weeks later that the young master could tell us anything coherent. On the very spot on which you sit, young miss, the young master told us all that had happened,” the old woman grumbled, raising the hot poker from the fire and pointing it at Hermione, menacing though harmless.

Lady Kaori continued, her voice flat as if reciting a script. “He had killed the leader of the Order of the Phoenix. Master Severus had been ordered to do so by this Albus Dumbledore, but it pained Severus greatly and he was overwrought with grief. After that night, of which Master Severus told us in detail, he and the boy traveled incognito out of Britain and into the continent. The boy was in shock and as they traveled the boy’s condition worsened. They made it across Asia, but in Seoul they were ambushed and Master Severus was severely wounded. The boy was useless without Severus, and that added burden kept Severus from reaching us before he became very ill. His body was riddled with scars and old wounds that had never healed correctly. We did the best we could, but Severus knew that his time was limited in this world. His body was so abused that if he were ever so severely injured again it would be end of him.”

“The young master carried such a heavy burden of guilt for so long it was a wonder that he lived as long as he did,” Lady Fuumi added, finally releasing the poker and resting her old, gnarled hands on her short lap. “Much of our efforts after the young master’s recovery were with the boy. The young master had us heal the boy physically; after many weeks the boy was roused from his slumber and the young master spent many hours alone with him. We were not privy to what occurred between the young master and his ward, but there were many nights that we had to subdue the boy. The young master had destroyed the boy’s wand, but the boy was mad and his powers were wild. It took a great deal of time to tame the boy, and when the young master thought it safe, he left this house to return to Britain. That was the last time we were to ever see young Severus.”

The room fell silent except for the crackling of the fire. Hermione let the silence permeate her body and clear her mind. Lady Fuumi closed her eyes as if sleeping and Lady Kaori’s eyes burned holes into the wooden floor.

“He fought against Lord Voldemort at our side. Severus was injured and because of it he would never recover the ability to walk. He spent his remaining days with peace of mind, knowing that he no longer had a role to play in Voldemort’s schemes. Severus did much to improve my homeland, and together we tried to erase the wrongs that had gone rampant in Britain for too long,” Hermione supplied quietly. “He died with a smile on his face, and I believe his conscience was clear.”

“I am glad,” Lady Kaori whispered, again her painted lips beginning to tremble.

Hermione nodded and shifted her weight on her leg, which was beginning to throb dully.

“And the boy? What happened to him?”

Lady Fuumi opened her eyes and gazed at Hermione.

“He recovered to a certain extent. But can you not see, young miss? You have been puzzling matters on your own; can you not see what binds us not to say?”

Hermione’s brows knitted as her eyes met the old woman’s. Like a small shock of static electricity Hermione could see inside Lady Fuumi’s mind, a selection of scenes frozen in time... Severus, Lady Kaori, Lady Fuumi and an older man Hermione did not know were standing in a darkened room, the only light from a small barred window high on a shadowed wall. The next scene was of the same room and the same figures, this time wands drawn and the light brightened by the tips of the wand. The four people stood in a circle and below the tips of their outstretched wands sat a fifth figure, wrapped in a black yukata, its back turned so that the face was obscured. Severus’ mouth was open, speaking, and the rest of the figures were gazing coolly down at the seated figure in the middle of the circle. But before Hermione could navigate further into Lady Fuumi’s mind she was pushed out roughly, not by Lady Fuumi but by a jolt of magic which made both Hermione and the old lady physically jump and wince in pain.

“You see?” Lady Fuumi strained to ask, her hand reaching up to adjust the collar of her kimono.

“You are under a strong vow, something akin to a Fidelius Charm. Under the conditions of which, you cannot even say his name or even tell me if he is alive.”

“Yes, and even though the young master has passed on, the vow still remains. The only thing I can say about the vow is that if it is cast by fours it retains its strength as long as the casters live. The vow is based on the concept of the Four Heavenly Gods, each caster standing in the four cardinal directions, representing Suzaku, Seiryuu, Genbu and Byakko. This vow is so powerful it has protected the location ancient emperor’s tombs in China, and China is whence the spell originated. It is an ancient spell for which only one of the original casters can divulge. Unfortunately neither my son or my granddaughter, nor even I can divulge the information for we are bound by an additional vow, and that young lady, is all I can say.”

“Forgive us, Mistress, we do not mean to offend you, but we have no other choice in the matter. We have told you all we can. I am sure that your frustrations have increased, and as much as we would like to tell you all you would like to know, we simply cannot,” Lady Kaori mumbled ruefully, her eyes swimming with tears. Hermione realized that Lady Kaori had been trying to fight against her vow all along, and Hermione lowered her head and bowed deeply.

“I apologize to both you honorable ladies. I came here intending to fulfill my friend’s wishes. Severus did not tell me what to look for exactly and I have been left to find these matters out for myself. I appreciate your candidness and your hospitality, but at your leave I would like to stay a bit longer until I can perhaps circumvent this vow you speak of and be sure that I can honor Severus’ last wish,” Hermione spoke softly, slowly raising her body up from her bow.

“We can only wish you luck, young miss, for we can do nothing more. Stay as long as you like, it is the least we can do for the young master to welcome you into our house as a friend of our family,” the old woman intoned, her voice weary and her face ashen with fatigue.

Hermione nodded. “I will retire to my room; I have much to think about. If it is not too much trouble, may Hanako keep me company?”

“Of course, that is her duty. If there is anything you need of, do not hesitate to ask. We will aid you to the best of our abilities, and we pray that you will find what you are looking for,” Lady Kaori said kindly, trying to smile.

Hermione smiled at the weary women, excusing herself and painfully rose from her place. She could feel Lady Fuumi’s eyes on her back as Hermione ambled across the room and to the door. Turning one last time, Hermione bowed as deeply as she could and took her leave.

“A pity she has been damaged. She reminds me of myself so long ago,” Lady Fuumi whispered to herself more than to Lady Kaori. Lady Fuumi took up her poker again and stoked the fire. “I’m hungry, Kaori, fetch some lunch.”

* * *


By the time Hermione returned to her room, her leg was pounding so painfully that it was agony to stand. Hermione nearly fell into her wardrobe when a particularly nasty stab of pain shot through her body, making her cry out. Cane falling to the floor, Hermione grasped the door of the wardrobe, resting her forehead against the lacquered surface. The noise of her cry and the thudding of her cane brought Hanako flying through the panel of the door.

“Mistress!” Hanako cried, her icy hands slipping through Hermione’s shoulders making Hermione shudder violently.

“I’m all right. I just need to get out of this kimono and rest...” Hermione panted, sweat dripping from her hairline and down her cheek.

“Of course, Mistress, give me a moment and I will help you.”

Hermione turned her head slightly, about to question Hanako, but was rapt with amazement as Hanako’s ethereal form seemed to glow brighter and her form seemed more opaque. Hermione’s mouth opened and shut tight as Hanako reached forward to grasp Hermione’s shoulders. Instead of feeling icy cold, Hermione could feel corporeal fingers grasp her shoulders and steer her to turn. Gaping like a fish gasping for air, Hermione allowed Hanako to push her into the bedroom and lean her body against the kimono rack.

Hermione knew that some ghosts could move objects; she had seen Peeves the Poltergeist throw ink bottles through the halls of Hogwarts or push over suits of armor to cause a clatter. But Hanako was not a poltergeist and Hermione lamented that she knew so little about the nature of ghosts.

“Just shrug off the kimono, Mistress, I will attend to it,” Hanako said smiling, apparently proud with herself for surprising Hermione. Hermione complied as best she could, but if she moved too much her leg sent jolts of hot pain up her body. Pulling her wand from her sash, Hermione gripped the vine wood wand as if trying to filter her pain into the wood.

Her leg had not hurt so badly in so long, and Hermione wondered if the shock she had received from being expelled from Lady Fuumi’s mind had caused it. She remembered that during her exercises with Severus there were times that the innate magical defenses of Severus’ mind caused Stinging Hexes and sometimes much worse things.

When the last undergarment fell to the matted floor, Hermione let her body slide down beside it, her leg stiff from muscle spasm and contracted muscles. Hermione began to regulate her breathing, only letting her chest move as she breathed and nothing else. Closing her eyes, Hermione did not watch Hanako smooth and replace the kimono on the rack and did not notice when Hanako floated down to hover beside Hermione, letting a soft yukata fall on her shoulders, covering her bare upper body.

“Shall I fetch Lady Kaori? Perhaps have the Kappa bring a draught?”

Hermione slowly opened her eyes. “No... This will pass. I just need to rest, and perhaps later soak in the springs. Just stay with me, Hanako, until my mind clears. I would like to talk with you.”

Hanako frowned, but Hermione could not tell whether it was from her refusal for help or the fact that she wanted to talk seriously with Hanako. Several minutes passed in silence and Hermione could feel her body relaxing, she was sure her pain had been triggered by her sojourn into Lady Fuumi’s thoughts and she knew the pain would pass.

A light scuffing sound coming from the sitting room broke the silence and Hermione glanced to see several small creatures moving about the table, setting out a light lunch. Slipping her arms into the yukata and pulling it around her body, Hermione wrinkled her nose at the odor coming from the creatures, which was slightly damp and pungent. It was the Kappa Lady Kaori had mentioned and they moved about frenetically, their webbed feet thudding dully on the mats. To look at them, the Kappa seemed just like house elves in stature and build, but their skin was a sickly green and they wore no clothes. The Kappa made purring noises as they moved about, their small duck like beaks moving and Hermione realized that the creatures were singing softly in a language all their own. Only a few moments and the Kappa lined up, five in all and stared at Hermione as if expecting to bow. Hermione could not help but smile at the creatures, she knew that if they were to bow the water collected atop their saucer like indentations in their skulls would spill and that would be disastrous.

“Thank you,” Hermione whispered to the Kappa and smiled.

The Kappa were expressionless as they held their hands folded before them.

“You are welcome, Mistress,” one of the Kappa on the end said in a watery and slippery voice, and just like house elves the Kappa disappeared before Hermione’s eyes in a crackle of blue smoke. The odor was gone and instead the scent of cherry blossoms filled the room, accentuating the smell of steaming miso soup, rice and a tray of sake soaked peaches.

“Mistress, are you well enough to have some lunch?” Hanako asked at Hermione’s elbow, her voice meek and filled with lingering concern.

Hermione began to rise, the muscle contractions having subsided. Her leg still ached, but the stabbing pain had abated. “I’m starving,” Hermione mumbled as she stumbled over to the table and sat down, thrusting her left leg under the ‘kotatsu’ and bending her right leg under her body. The warmth from the heater felt nice on Hermione’s leg and she placed her wand on the table and began her meal. All the while, Hanako hovered about the room, watching Hermione with great interest as Hermione sipped her soup and ate her bowl of rice. When she finished with the sweet peaches, Hermione hummed contentedly and let her elbows rest on the table, her chin resting above a steaming cup of green tea.

“Lady Kaori and Fuumi told me about Severus, Hanako. But I want to hear about things you wanted to tell me. You are not bound by any vow, are you?” Hermione asked conversationally, startling the ghost so that the girl moved to hover by the table as if she had decided to sit down herself.

“The only thing that binds me is this house, Mistress. I can never leave it, but I have taken no magical vows,” Hanako answered, her voice hesitant.

Hermione studied the ghost: Hanako seemed to glow as she had before, palely.

“Severus brought Draco Malfoy here eleven years ago, yes?”

Hanako bit her ashen lip and turned to Hermione. “Please, Mistress, do not ask me...”

“Why? I just want to figure everything out so that I can finally fulfill Severus’ wish. Was a boy named Draco Malfoy here eleven years ago?” Hermione asked roughly, her patience wearing thin.

Hanako seemed to shiver, her chin resting on her chest. “I know no one of that name...”

Hermione huffed, “But Severus brought a boy here, your Mistresses have confirmed it.”

“Yes, Master Severus brought a boy here...” Hanako whispered, her hands resting on her knees, her chin still against her chest.

“And? Where is he now?” Hermione asked impatiently.

“Gone...long ago...” Hanako answered distantly. Hermione glared at the ghost, she did not have to go to difficult lengths to know that the ghost was still withholding something.

“Leave me, Hanako, I want to be alone,” Hermione muttered coldly, and without prompting the ghost floated upward and back out the paneled walls of the room. Hermione sighed, she hated to be so unkind, but enough was enough. If the ghost was bound by no vow or contract, the girl could tell Hermione what she wanted to know. Draco Malfoy had been in this inn in some form or another, but Hanako’s unwillingness to divulge any pertinent information was beyond frustrating. The ghost had said that ‘the boy’ had left, long ago. Whether or not it was true depended on what was secreted in Severus’ diary, or so Hermione hoped. Taking up her wand from the table Hermione pointed it at the wardrobe.

“Accio diary,” Hermione muttered and the wardrobe magically opened the leather bound diary floated across the room to land in Hermione’s open left hand. Placing the book on the table, Hermione moved her wand again, casting powerful wards and an Imperturbable on the door. Not wanting to be disturbed or interrupted like she had been earlier that morning, Hermione turned her attentions to the diary. With her wand still in her hand she began chanting under her breath, touching the end of her wand to the cover of the book. Words in Latin and Greek whispered through the room as the tip of Hermione’s wand began to glow red. Slowly, Hermione could see through her eyelashes that the diary itself began to glow red, a sickly blood red, but as she chanted and wove her spell the color began to change, gradually turning into a pale green. Ending the spell the book and the wand tip returned to normal. The diary had had several concealing spells as well as a nasty ‘conjunctivitis curse’ on the particular page Hermione knew that held the answers she was seeking. Remembering her vision during her astral journeying she knew just the incantations to remove the wards.

Taking a breath, Hermione tapped her wand on the cover of the book again and waited. The diary seemed to hiss as the cover flipped open and the pages billowed to open to the page Hermione had seen in her vision. The top of the page read the date: August 13, 1998, two months before the Battle of Little Hangleton. The rest of the page was blank, but with another tap of the wand, ink seemed to well up from the page, not black, but a harsh red. In a tight scrawl, the entry read:

‘I applaud the person who has found this passage, the person who has circumvented the protections on this book and managed to thwart the curses I have placed on this knowledge I am about impart. You may wonder as to why I have subtly hidden this passage and why what I am about tell you will be important. I found it necessary, for the future that who ever should read this should know the truth of the matter and perhaps save a young life.

If you have read the contents of this journal or are familiar with my trials and errors since beginning this chronicle, you know me well, and I most likely know you. Therefore if you know me, you also know whom I am referring to when I mention my ‘ward.’ Ergo, this is the piece of information that shall make it possible to save my ‘ward’ from himself.

For safety, I charged the family members of the Matsumoto house to aid me in an elaborate spell that will protect my ward from harm, detection, and possible retaliation from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his followers.

I can only speculate, but whoever is reading this was sent by my word to the Matsumoto ryokan, possibly on the event of my death. If this is so, I apologize to the unfortunate soul I have charged to retrieve my ward. I will tell you to go to Shiretoko, to my beloved Kaede in Hokkaido, but this is all I will be able to tell you when the final protections have been cast. When I finish this passage the wards will be set and I will only be able to remember the previous key words I have written above. All I will know is to send some soul here to Shiretoko, someone I can trust implicitly.

Now, the meat... Note this well, for this is the key to the mystery I have set before you, my dear friend.

Draco Malfoy is living in the Matsumoto ryokan on this date. Draco has been bound by spell to remain in Japan until you, my most trusted friend, come to retrieve him. And retrieve him you must! I can only pray to the gods the Snake Bastard is dead by the time you read this, and that Draco can return to his homeland safely.

Now I feel that I must also warn you of several things concerning my dear Draco.

First, Draco Malfoy is mad. I can only hope that the time between my penning of this passage and the hour in which you now are reading these words that Draco has improved. I could do little for him during my time trying to abate his madness. No memory charms work on the boy, I have trained him too well in Occlumency and he is violently resistant to any such charm to ease his chaotic mind. In his madness, Draco is hyper-aware of anything magical, but under this there still exists logic. He understands that he is in danger and he understands the measures we have taken to protect him. I fear, however, that in the future he will try to break down these protections and escape before it is safe for him to do so.

Second, Draco is maimed. I mentioned in one of my first passages that he had escaped me during the journey to Shiretoko. I will now say that Draco went to great lengths to destroy his left arm where he had been given the Dark Mark. In the end, the arm had to be amputated, but the damage was done. I believe that a subtle poison that is secreted from the Mark has caused a great part of his madness. Few of Tom’s followers have realized the fact that the Mark not only acts has a homing device and a brand, but also a source of poison that can cause horrific effects if the Mark is tampered with. I found this out the hard way many years ago and have thus likely shaved off ten years of my life on this earth, but that is another story for another time.

Third, Draco believes that his family is dead, and relishes the fact that they may be ‘worm food’ as he calls it. He will curse the name of his mother for interfering with his task of killing Albus. Being the one to take one half of the Unbreakable Vow with Cissy, I will attest that what that noble woman did was for the best and perhaps saved Draco in a fashion that has yet to be seen. Do not let Draco fool you though, he is frightened that his family is dead. No, he is afraid that Narcissa is dead; Draco could care less about Lucius. In fact, Draco fears Lucius’ wrath as much as he fears Tom’s... I sincerely hope that you, my friend, have either witnessed or know of the deaths of both contemptible men.

Fourth, I have destroyed Draco’s wand, but at this point it does not really matter. Draco exudes raw magical energy. Perhaps in his madness he has mastered silent and wandless magic, out of necessity. There is little we can do to tame his innate magic besides give him a wand to siphon the magic in some form or another. Draco has tried only once to perform an Unforgivable wandlessly, and I will simply say that he earned himself a horrible concussion and was ill for weeks. Even such power has a limit, it seems. But be wary of this fact, Draco is powerful and he does not need a wand to hex or curse you.

And lastly, I mentioned placing a Glamour on Draco when we passed into Asia proper. The boy would have drawn too much unwanted attention if I had not. The glamour is part of the protections cast upon him. If you did not find this passage and find the key, you might have passed Draco in the corridor and never had an inkling he was a Malfoy. But now you will know him for who has become...and in the past few months his true appearance has changed. Draco takes after Cissy more than Lucius and for that I am grateful. His hair has grown long and he refuses to let Kaori cut it, but he looks more like his cousin Regulus than Lucius. Ah, there are so many parallels between Draco and Regulus, but I will not reminisce in this entry...perhaps later.

In conclusion, my most trusted friend, please forgive me for laying such a heavy burden upon you, but it had to be done for the sake of the non compos mentis. Pity him and try to treat him kindly...for it may shock him out of his insanity.

Your friend,
SS.’


* * *


Hermione warded the diary before levitating it back into the wardrobe. And for a long time Hermione stared at the tabletop. Pieces were falling into place, one by one. The nature of the spells protecting Draco had been circumvented by Severus’ entry, a failsafe measure that was activated when Severus was certain Malfoy would be safe. The Ministry could never severely prosecute Draco: one, he was missing, presumed dead and two, he had not committed a crime befitting any more legal action than a hefty fine. Draco Malfoy had taken the Dark Mark, but by Severus’ account the Mark and the arm were gone. Draco was not an active or initiated Death Eater, and his only participation was aiding and abetting the Death Eaters who had entered Hogwarts the night Albus Dumbledore was killed. That crime was also not punishable by death, again, only a hefty fine. Fleeing the country was only proof to his guilt, but nothing more... And only earlier that year, Draco Malfoy’s name had been removed from a Ministry ‘Wanted’ list, his name only being second to Ludo Bagman’s for embezzlement.

If Severus had come himself to retrieve Draco, Hermione knew that the Ministry would prosecute him on charges he had been cleared of...there was no such thing as Double Jeopardy where the Ministry was concerned. But Severus had erased all memory of Draco’s whereabouts in knowing that something important had been kept in Shiretoko...and with that sentiment, Hermione forgave Severus. Severus had gone to desperate measures to protect the last Malfoy, but it was unclear if Draco were still alive...

Hermione gasped, a sudden realization jolting through her like an electric shock.

Draco Malfoy was alive, and Hermione had seen him with her own eyes although she had not known it at the time.

“Hanako! Hanako, I need you!” she cried, tears welling up in her eyes, realizing that her task was nearly complete.