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Out of the Silent Planet	By : moirasfate Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 71680 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
- 13
Title: Out of the Silent Planet (12/39)
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.
Many thanks to kazfeist for improving this chapter!
Out of the Silent Planet
Chapter Twelve - Of lust, sleep, and preparations for departure

His eyes shone like hard diamonds as he gazed down at her face, innocent wonder expressive on his angelic face. Hermione could almost believe, as she trained her eyes upon his face, that he thought she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, but she knew that this was not truly the case. He began moving atop Hermione's form, clenching his jaw to keep himself from making a noise or betraying the fact that she felt too good to be true. Draco Malfoy was losing control over his own icy personality, melting in the heat that was Hermione Granger.

Hermione's face was a mixture of pain, pleasure, shock and wild abandon as she panted and moaned ever so softly. Malfoy felt large, larger than he looked when she had watched him walk toward her recumbent form only moments ago. The concept of being 'well-endowed' was subjective, of course, but as Malfoy began thrusting deeper into her body, the tip of his cock pressing against her womb and the girth stretching her to the point of slight pain, Hermione considered Malfoy well endowed. She struggled against the manacle-like bracelets, her instinct to hold onto to the man that was forcing her up the steep incline toward climax. If she could not hold him, latch on to him; she knew that she would disappear when orgasm took her. It had been too long, and any thought as to regretting that moment was far from her mind.

Draco Malfoy ceased to be Draco Malfoy and was now just the man who was plucking the strings of her libido to create a heavenly song. Hermione bucked her hips as Malfoy changed his angle, moving his weight over Hermione so that it did not rest solely on his right hand. Hermione's chest was heaving, the globes of her breasts moving rhythmically with every deep thrust. Through her eyelashes she followed a trail of sweat that descended from Malfoy's hairline and down the side of his face. Quickly his face was becoming more expressive as Hermione's inner walls clamped down, beginning to react to the hard intrusion inside her body.

Hermione turned her head, pressing her face into her forearm as she felt her juices flowing freely from her core, over her buttocks, and onto the futon. The heady smell of her arousal filled her nostrils and she knew that Malfoy had sensed it as well for he began thrusting faster into her body. Hermione moaned raggedly, wrapping her legs about his slim waist, digging her soles into the rippling muscles of his lower back and ass. This movement caused Malfoy to groan and Hermione felt herself rushing toward the precipice at the throaty and lust filled moan that emitted from Malfoy's mouth.

Jerking almost upright with the force of her first orgasm, Hermione nearly screamed, but only one word came from her mouth, sounding almost like a curse.

"Draco!"

Suddenly everything in her mind froze as if hit with a stunning hex and she convulsed. She barely noticed that Malfoy had pushed away from her, pulling his pulsing cock from her body, but she felt scalding droplets of his sweat splash on her breasts and could hear his strained breathing. With every breath he took it sounded as if he were sobbing quietly, and when Hermione opened her bleary eyes she found Draco kneeling between her thighs, clutching his cock tightly in his fist, his eyes wide and unseeing, his mouth opened, trying to catch a normal breath.

Hermione wanted to clutch her aching pussy, but the manacles prevented her from moving more than Malfoy wanted her to move. Hermione felt as if her heart were about to burst in a mess of blood and sinew, and visibly jumped as Malfoy released his prick and pushed at her hip to roll Hermione to her side. In her lust-fogged brain, Hermione instinctually moved on her own, going to her bound hands and knees, waiting for the warmth of Malfoy's flesh to enter her again. Pushing inside her almost unyielding flesh, Malfoy groaned loudly, the vibration of his deep voice passing through his body and into Hermione's. A new rhythm began, and Malfoy grasped Hermione's right hip as he pressed himself inward only to draw out again.

Lowering her upper body to the futon, Hermione sobbed her pleasure, too intense to keep quiet, and swiveled her hips to meet every deep thrust. She rested her forehead on her hands, wishing her hands were free to rub her clit and send herself over the edge again. Muscles contracting around him, Malfoy's each thrust of the hips was accentuated by a soft moan and Hermione knew that he was gradually getting closer to his own release. His balls slapped against her damp nether regions as his pace became erratic; Hermione was once again on the verge of exploding. His grip painfully tightened on her hip, Hermione whimpered and let the convulsions; marking her peak, take her body. Malfoy paused for a moment, his body rigid before thrusting forward roughly, once...twice and the last time, voicing his release with a roar. A rush and pulse of heat filled Hermione's body and she buried her face into the futon, screaming.

Malfoy fell forward, his arm wrapping about her waist, pressing kisses against her spine, but Hermione only vaguely felt his tender affections as she sobbed, her knees aching, her hips bruised. A whispered incantation, muffled slightly as Malfoy's lips played against her sweaty skin, and the bracelets melted away. Hermione moaned in a mixture of relief and soreness, slowly slipping down to the futon on her belly. At this motion, Malfoy gingerly pulled his spent cock from Hermione's quivering passage, groaning as the vice like grip seemed to squeeze his sensitive flesh out of Hermione's unyielding body. Falling to the futon at her right side, Malfoy lay with his knees sprawled, panting and gazing up at the ceiling. Hermione, in turn, settled on the futon, resting her head on the soft mattress and pulling her arms down to her sides, exhausted and quickly drifting off to sleep despite her harsh breathing and pained legs.

The last sensation she remembered was a soft blanket being pulled over her recumbent form, and Malfoy's warm body molding against her side, his face buried in her unruly hair. Hermione was too tired to worry about the sticky mixture of her essence and Malfoy's seed oozing out of her body, or that as she rolled to her right side, Malfoy stretched his arm so that it could cradle her head. It did not matter at all that she could feel his sticky cock against her buttocks or that Malfoy was whispering words to her that could be important. All that mattered was sleep.

* * *

Swirling ether became a room, and in this room she sat on a soft divan. The room was cool, and light was streaming in through two tall casement windows. Casting her dream eyes about, Hermione came to the realization that she sat in a richly decorated sitting room. This room was full of antiques, Edwardian furniture mixed with oddities from the Orient, Chinese wall scrolls next to moving portraits of people Hermione did not know and Persian rugs atop dark wood flooring. Even the crackling fireplace to her immediate left had strange green veined black marble and on the mantle was a rack holding a very ancient looking katana and short sword. She reclined on the divan, her head falling against the high armrest that curved elegantly in an Art Nouveau swirl. Letting her eyes travel down her body, she noticed that she wore an elegant silk kimono, dark green with cream colored embroidery of dragons and lotus blossoms interspersed with deep red thread embroidered to represent dark plum blossoms. There was no sash to hold the kimono closed and the silk hung open, revealing her naked skin and the blond headed man who was kissing his way around her navel.

In her dream, Hermione sighed and buried her right hand in his hair, causing him to look up from his kissing.

"Ryu translates to 'dragon,' did you know?"

"I knew..." her dream voice huskily sounded.

Malfoy grinned and went back to kissing below her navel to her dream shaven mound. Shivering, Hermione pushed the silk open wider, to see that her dream version of Draco Malfoy had both of his hands and was beginning to open her flesh petals to lick at her damp clit and soaking sex. Malfoy pushed her thighs further apart, licking, nipping, and sucking at her core, it was too much, and Hermione came at his early ministrations. She felt her juices seem to stream from between her thighs and down to the puckered flesh of her anus.

"It is irony, perhaps...that they would call me a dragon..." Malfoy whispered, and Hermione frowned as she looked into his deep silver eyes.

The room swirled, the divan became the futon in her room at the ryokan and her eyes opened just in time to see Malfoy's face descend to her core again, his face dimly lit by pre-dawn light, wet with her essence.

Her pillow had been placed under her thighs, lifting her pelvis upward so that Malfoy could take her in at the best possible angle. His hand was splayed on her belly as he leaned down and closed his eyes to circle his tongue around her swollen clit. It had been only a dream in part, and Hermione only knew that Malfoy's mouth was worshiping her sex and the room had been a scene from a distant fantasy. Grasping his hair, Hermione urged her lover to continue as she panted and shivered. The warmth of slumber was gone and the blankets were thrown about hastily as if kicked off during a restless sleep.

Malfoy hummed at Hermione's touch, but did not open his eyes nor did he stop. Instead he ran his wickedly clever tongue downwards, playing about the skin outside her dripping hole. Whimpering and unable to form the words to command him, Hermione released her handful of hair and let her hands fall to her sides, fisting into the fabric of the futon. Delving inside, Malfoy's tongue lapped at the nectar in Hermione's body, plunging his tongue in and out of her in anticipation of what he meant to do next.

Her lips were dry, her throat scratchy, but Hermione moaned in the afterglow of her climax. She whimpered, however, as Malfoy pulled away and slid to lie at her left side. She watched him out of the corner of her sleep filled eye, his arm wrapping about her back as it forced its way between her and the futon. With an expertly strong pull, Hermione rolled off the pillow, which supported her hips, and against Malfoy, her leg draping over his hips.

"Ride me..." he whispered, but Hermione did not see his lips move. The ache in her pussy urged her to move.

It was like a deep itch, this need she felt to be filled again, and as she moved to sit up and straddle Draco Malfoy's hips, she was elated at the chance to have some control in the situation. Kneeling over his weeping erection, which stuck out from a nest of silvery curls at a sharp angle, Hermione grasped the tool of her pleasure and rubbed the pearly, pre-cum over her clit. She hummed deep in her chest, feeling Malfoy's hand inch up her left thigh to her hip. Her small hand guided Malfoy's cock to her entrance, and just as the tip entered her, she froze to look down at Draco Malfoy's face.

He was handsome with his eyes narrowed in anticipation, his lip between his teeth, his brow furrowed in concentration...and Hermione slammed her body down against his hips roughly. Malfoy howled at the sudden feeling of his prick being encased in the hot, damp, and tight velvet flesh that was the inside of Hermione Granger. He could only grasp her hip tightly as she began to move over him, smelling her lavender and sweat scented hair as she leaned forward so that her small hands were splayed upon the pectorals of his pale chest. Hips gyrating, Hermione thought of nothing else but finding her own completion, but she took pride in herself despite all the time between that moment and the last time she had been with anyone, for Draco Malfoy was whimpering beneath her, his eyes rolling back in his head. She could feel that he was straining not to move his own hips as she twisted and bounced upon his prick. He felt huge, but Hermione knew that was only because she was so swollen, but the itch remained and it did not matter if she could not walk for a whole week she was going to get some satisfaction out of this particular joining.

Hermione was panting as she rode him, and as he groaned and opened his eyes to meet hers with a snap of instinct, Draco Malfoy lost control. Hermione squeaked as he began meeting her thrusts, using the leverage of his feet and upraised knees to push deeper and harder than Hermione could have achieved on her own. Rolling her hips Hermione moaned as with each rough thrust her clit rubbed against his pelvis thus speeding her closer and closer to release.

"Hermione..." he breathed, his hand moving from her hip to her neck, pulling her forcefully down so that he could kiss her. There was no tenderness in this kiss and Hermione thought it was fitting as he bit her lower lip and the tip of her tongue. As Malfoy moved his mouth to her right shoulder to bite down, Hermione came, screaming incoherent words inspired by sheer lust. Her knees were aching and she could no longer meet Malfoy's insistent movements which seemed relentless and far too powerful to Hermione's sore flesh, but he continued, his teeth breaking the skin of her shoulder and the wet slap of flesh against flesh filling the void of quiet as the sun began to rise.

Hermione opened her mouth to stop Draco, she was overcome, overwhelmed and did not think she could handle another orgasm. She had to say nothing as she felt Malfoy's cock seem to pulse and swell. He released his bite and fell back on the futon, grasping the back of Hermione's hair and pulling her in for another kiss, groaning into her open mouth as he filled her with his seed. Pulling her mouth away from Malfoy's a trail of saliva kept them joined as well as the sore and spent flesh inside her. With almost painstaking slowness, Hermione rolled away, too tired and too sore to even think to speak. All she knew was the next time she woke she wanted a bath, not in the onsen, but a real bath where she could scrub away the sweat, saliva and seed that seemed to soil her entire body. She rolled to her side, her face turned to Malfoy, but closing her eyes to sleep, not caring to think of the man at her side any longer. Hermione was sated, the itch gone and sleep calling her to rest again.

* * *

Had it not been years since her last mating session, Hermione would have awoken rested, and not frowning over her soiled futon and skin. It was midday perhaps, but Hermione could not tell for sure. Sometime during her sleep it had began snowing outside, and by the time she woke, alone in her room, it was like a blizzard outside her window. A warming spell had been cast on her blankets that had been tucked around her by Malfoy and a note lay on the floor where she could find it easily.

'There is a tub at the end of the corridor next door to the W.C., wash up, lunch has passed, and perhaps by the time you wash dinner will be ready. I will join you then. D.'

Hermione huffed. It seemed that her blood oath only allowed Malfoy to leave her when he wanted and not vice versa. She could feel a strain in her chest, which had nothing to do with her sore muscles or bloody shoulder or aching thighs, no, it was an ache when you missed someone dearly. The blood oath was in effect and the fact that Malfoy was not near her caused her discomfort, like heartburn or being too short of breath after running miles without stopping.

"Accio wand," Hermione groaned, sitting on her futon with her blankets pooled on her lap. Her new wand came zooming into the bedroom from the sitting room and Hermione plucked it from the air with a sigh.

The night before had been nothing short of surreal, and Hermione knew it was due to the amount of alcohol she had consumed. However, Hermione did not feel the least bit of a hangover, just dirty and sore. With a bit of slow maneuvering, Hermione made it out of bed, summoning a robe from the wardrobe and her cane, which she had not thought to use for several hours, but with her leg being so sore from use, she knew that after a bath and perhaps dinner she would have another soak in the onsen...if Malfoy allowed her to do so.

Walking from her room, with the tap her cane the only noise in the wing of the ryokan, Hermione found the bath Malfoy had mentioned. It was a small room with a window of translucent glass letting in the gray natural light. In the middle of the room was a large round wooden tub with hot water steaming to make the room a bit foggy. Closing and locking the door with her wand, Hermione moved across the stone floor, wishing she had thought to put on slippers since the stone was quite cold. A step was provided for a person to climb inside the tub and a high table by the tub provided soap and shampoo for use. Hermione wondered if this tub were enchanted to keep the water clean for she knew that often times it was customary to wash before getting into the water for several people had to share the tub in a household. But Hermione decided to forego tradition in need of a washing and disrobed. She was the only guest in the wing, or in the entire inn for that matter and if worse came to worse she could magic the tub clean.

Climbing into the tub, she hissed at the scalding temperature of the water and sat on the small bench that ran about the walls of the tub. It was amazing to Hermione that the Japanese took bathing so seriously or so extravagantly for the tub could easily hold two more people. The water seemed to be redolent of some perfume and she wondered if Malfoy had taken the responsibility for preparing the bath for her on his own. Beginning to scrub and wash, Hermione began to relax in the water, the accumulation of sweat and other bodily fluids quickly disappearing under her scrubbing hands and the lavender scented water.

Malfoy had surprised her...and her mind began analyzing her hazy account of the night before. He had taken her...body and mind, manipulated her body like someone who had planned to take over her senses in the most intimate way. Malfoy had agreed to not harm her and in truth all that he did the night before was not really the definition of 'harm.' He had bruised her, marked her, admitted that he had wanted her and taken her to the point where she had cried his name. Hermione groaned as she realized that she had given into Malfoy's so-called charm, allowed herself to get drunk and heed the primal urges in her body to rut. But was Malfoy truly mad? Hermione pondered the question as best she could.

It was certain that his erratic behavior, turning violent and then gentle, was odd. However, was it madness or just mere emotional instability due to the presence of a familiar face from the past? It was also certain that Malfoy had suffered, and perhaps had no way to resolve his emotions in a healthy manner. But what were his true intentions? His initial response to her had been one of hatred, violence, and old, adolescent feelings of prejudice. It seemed that he had quickly come to the realization that he needed Hermione if he were ever to leave Japan. What was even more disturbing was the fact that he had kept her in a drug induced sleep for many days, and once again, for what purpose other than to come to terms with that someone had finally come to find him magically hidden in one of the most remote and inaccessible parts of the world. Hermione was unsettled, what would happen when they did make it back to Britain? Of course the wizarding media, as well as many of the survivors of the War, would be in an uproar that Draco Malfoy was alive and back in Britain. What would happen? What would he do? The only somewhat reassuring factor about the whole matter was that Hermione had a blood oath with Draco Malfoy, and the promise that he would not harm her or her friends, as well as she would be receiving a monetary compensation for her pains.

Hermione dunked her head under the water, the cleansing water turning her skin pink. A few seconds and Hermione rose from the water, catching her breath. The strain in her chest had not abated, and the magic that bound her to the somewhat contemptible Malfoy heir was calling out for her to find the one she had vowed to be next to...and then Hermione wondered another matter. How long would she be bound to Malfoy, and why did he even want her around? Was it just to annoy her, perhaps? That much could be guaranteed, and Hermione smirked as she wondered to herself. It was also reassuring, if not to spare her tender feelings or to drudge up the past, that Malfoy could never call her a Mudblood. She knew it was not so much the word itself, but the old, painful memories she associated with the word. She had been called far worse things during her lifetime, but for Draco Malfoy to call her a Mudblood had been the worst. Hermione had always tried to see the best in people, even Draco Malfoy, but any time that word passed his lips, Hermione could only despise the boy more than anyone in the whole world, bar Tom Riddle.

Even in school, Hermione thought Draco Malfoy was beautiful to a certain degree. Perhaps it was the way he carried himself, with an infallible air of confidence that drew Hermione to look at him at school. Even now, maimed and scarred by many years of guilt and hatred, he was still beautiful. Hermione knew that she had not aged as well as she would have liked, she also was slightly crippled, but she was slender, well proportioned for the most part except the slight rounding of her belly and thighs, and had been considered beautiful but untouchable by British Wizarding society. Hermione felt her cheeks burn with a blush at the school girlish thought of being seen in the company of Draco Malfoy when they returned to Britain.

"What in the seven hells are you thinking, Granger," she growled to herself suddenly.

It was stupid really, and totally unlike her to think such things. Malfoy was a liability, a pain in the arse and would be so until the time he decided to release her from her obligation. Suddenly she wondered about Severus... Had the conditions been met so that she would be released from Severus' wish or would be once she and Malfoy set foot on the soils of their homeland? This thought brought a sense of anxiety to Hermione's already overwhelmed mind. Oath upon oath, vow upon vow, promises here and there, when would it all end, Hermione wondered with a sigh.

Feeling sufficiently better and cleaner, Hermione rose from the tub and used her wand to dry her dripping hair and skin. After a quick trip to the water closet and to look in the mirror at her bruised and bitten shoulder, Hermione returned to her room.

"We're leaving tomorrow."

Dinner had been set out on the table in the sitting room and Malfoy sat at the spot he had sat the night before, but he was clean and dressed in Western clothes, a black jumper and black slacks. His hair had been washed and combed then pulled back in a leather tie so that his silver locks ran down the middle of his back. Hermione sighed, hoping to dress herself without an audience, and she would not admit that she felt much better despite the bath now that Malfoy was in the same room.

Without answering, Hermione moved to the wardrobe and drew out her last set of clean clothes which consisted of underwear and a long black dress that was more casual than many of the other dresses she wore. Limping into the bedroom and sliding the doors shut, Hermione began dressing.

"It is not as if I haven't seen it before, Granger," Malfoy called through the rice paper door.

Hermione scowled as she finished swishing her wand in a silent incantation to button all the tiny buttons that ran down the dress much like the many buttons Severus wore on his robes while working in the labs. In fact the soft cotton dress had been one she often wore while working with Severus, and she wore it nowadays as something somewhat elegant but comfortably worn when she was alone. Many of Hermione's clothes were older, but care worn and too comfortable to ever discard, thus the faded black cotton dress with its two missing buttons at the neckline of the dress.

Sliding the door open, Hermione noticed that Malfoy had begun eating, his rice bowl levitating just in reach as he shoveled food into his mouth with little ceremony. Hermione slipped her wand into her sleeve and sat down as well. The smell of food was inviting and Hermione took up her chopsticks and began, trying not to make any indication at her distaste as Malfoy tipped his bowl of miso into his mouth. It seemed only seconds when Malfoy began stacking his dishes and sipping his tea, watching her as she daintily ate her rice.

"Your belongings will be sent ahead in the morning to Edo. I have arranged a Portkey to Italy first, there is something I need to do before we go back to Britain," Malfoy announced, leaning his body against the table, his large hand wrapped about his clay mug of green tea.

"Why Italy?" Hermione asked quietly, marveling at the calmness between her and Malfoy. Maybe something had changed after their joining...

"Do you always have to ask questions, Granger? Can't you just obey the words of your betters, or must I anticipate your incessant curiosity for however long I am burdened with you?" Malfoy snarled, sending Hermione's dinner flying off the table and across the room to hit the door with a flick his wrist.

...And apparently Malfoy was still a vicious prat after all.

Hermione narrowed her eyes and snapped her right arm so that her wand slid into her hand, training the tip just between Malfoy's eyes.

"Don't deprive me of my supper, you mad, inbred snake, I will ask questions, and if it does not suit you, you do not have to answer. I am smart enough to figure it out eventually. I just asked because it seemed you were oh-so anxious to have the wards lifted and return home!" Hermione snarled with just as much venom as Malfoy. She might be bound to him, but she was not going to allow him to act like an arse in her presence. Besides, she was so hungry that she considered, on the edge of her mind, to salvage what had been tossed across the room just to fill her empty stomach.

It was satisfying to Hermione that Malfoy's eyes widened at her words and the fact that her wand tip was only millimeters from his skull, but the shock did not last long and he began chuckling.

"My apologies, luv..." he laughed, flicking his wand to banish the spoiled food and the dishes from the floor.

Hermione sighed and lowered her arm. "Sod off, Malfoy. Now answer my question if you will please."

Malfoy grinned, looking more like Lucius when he grinned like a demon than at any other time. "I need to get a new arm."

Hermione frowned. "Why Italy, of all places? A new arm? Can they regrow arms in Italy and it has escaped my knowledge all these years?" Hermione asked sardonically.

"No, you stupid bint! A prosthetic, a pros-the-tic... Are all Mud...Muggle-born witches as stupid as you?"

The wand tip was now touching Malfoy's skin as Hermione snarled in frustration and raising her arm again.

"I didn't say it, all right?" Malfoy hissed, raising his one arm in defeat. Hermione huffed and lowered her arm, tucking her wand back in her sleeve again.

"I know what a prosthetic is, Malfoy. We develop them at the firm."

"Not like the one I want, I'm sure," Malfoy said quietly.

"You want something more than a prosthesis then."

Malfoy shrugged, "Since you'll be coming along, you'll see for yourself."

Hermione said nothing, eyeing the remains of Malfoy's rice stuck to the sides of the bowl. She jumped when Malfoy snapped his fingers and two kappa popped into existence next to her side.

"Please bring the Mistress another course of food, if it is not too much trouble," Malfoy intoned kindly to the two creatures that stood no taller than three feet high at Hermione's side. "Also I would like to inform you that I will be leaving this house. I will make offerings in the morning, and I thank you for all your kindness during my time here."

Hermione blinked in shock, as the kappa seemed to weep as Malfoy spoke, and also that Malfoy treated these magical creatures with such kindness and civility. The kappa nodded slowly and glanced at Hermione. Hermione smiled as the kappa popped out of the room, and within moments more food appeared on the table, rice, miso, sashimi, plum pickles, and onigiri for later eating.

"They were crying..." Hermione breathed, taking up a new set of chopsticks and whispering her thanks for the delicious food setting before her.

"The kappa are my kind of magical creatures, besides dragons..." Malfoy said softly, taking up one of the onigiri rice balls and taking a bite.

"Why..."

"You and your 'whys...'" Malfoy muffled, grains of rice falling from his mouth as he spoke with his mouth full. Hermione wondered if his table manners were always so atrocious or if it had to do with the fact that he seemed to love to annoy her. Hermione began eating again, only having taken a bit of food earlier, but this time she ate faster, almost afraid that the man at her left would try and throw her food against the wall again.

"Kappa can be very dangerous. The kappa are not servants per se, but aides. They live in this area because of the springs, as they are water spirits. To appease the kappa, and thus be an ally to their powers, you must give them offerings and kappa love cucumbers...and beer. When I first came here the only living creature that would have anything to do with me were the kappa...so, I made offerings to them and ever since they have been my allies," Malfoy said softly, as if he too were sad to be parted from the creatures that bordered on the grotesque.

"Why did only the kappa come to you?" Hermione asked, having finished her miso and sashimi.

"I would hex anybody else...it was right before Severus left."

Hermione nodded, remembering that Severus had written that Malfoy had to be locked away until his emotional state and his magic settled. Slowly she finished her rice and stacked her dishes, thankful that Malfoy had not opted to destroy her dinner again.

"I will allow you to go to the onsen; this might be the last time you will be able to take advantage of the healing water before we leave," Malfoy mumbled over the rim of his tea. Hermione nodded again. "I will be waiting here for you."

"Have you prepared everything of yours to go?"

At this Malfoy chuckled. "I own almost nothing, Granger, except the clothes I am wearing...which were a gift from Yuki when I visited Edo years ago. I have nothing else to my name...yet."

Hermione smirked. When they would arrive in Europe, surely Malfoy would have access to his inheritance, and then she would be free of him...

Hermione rose stiffly from the table and Malfoy seemed to frown. "Has no one been able to heal you, Granger?"

She sighed as she moved to the wardrobe, drawing out her yukata. She did not need to wash before getting into the spring, but brought a towel to dry off. Drying spells left her skin dry and itchy, and even with the heat in the room, the winter chill made her skin itch even more.

"All the best medi-wizards worked on me, even the ones contracted in my firm. So, no... I'm going to the spring now," she announced and closed the wardrobe, missing Severus' diaries where they had once set on the cedar shelf. At some point she was sure to really give Draco Malfoy a piece of her mind about how to treat other people's property...the diaries had been entrusted to her and even though she had found the key to lifting the spells upon Malfoy, she wanted to keep the diaries to read the rest of Severus' commentary on the matter. Severus had been her unlikely friend and even as she walked down the darkened corridor to the onsen, the strain in her chest returned and it was not only due to the oath, but also due to the fact that she wished her friend was with her that very moment to give his sage advice on how to deal with Draco Malfoy in the days or weeks to come
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Out of the Silent Planet