Out of the Silent Planet

Chapter Eight // Out of the Silent Planet

The look on his face confirmed her fears. It was blood.

***

Harry, though, did not seem to be to upset at the large quantity of blood that stained the floor and the walls. Instead, after a moment, he gave a short laugh, saying, "You can come out now, Professor."

A gentle pop sounded, though it was not the amicable white-haired professor that Harry expected who appeared. This man was tall and thin, with lank black hair that hung forward and obscured his face. His nose jutted out like the prow of a sinking ship, and he held a slender ebony wand at the ready in his thin, almost delicate, hands.

"Potter. Ever the arrogant one, aren't you?"

"Snape," said Harry tersely, inclining his head a fraction of an inch. "What's going on here?"

The man sneered, an expression whichexpression that was obviously at home on his thin face. "Far be it for me to question a Gryffindor's lack of observation, but it would appear that I have you at wand point. Drop your wands, all of you, or I cannot be responsible for what I do to Potter."

Harry looked as though he'd been punched in the stomach. "But... I thought you were on our side!"

A short laugh that held no humor or goodwill escaped the man's thin lips. "Side? I am on no side, for no one is on my side. I killed the Headmaster, have no doubt about that, little boy. Now, drop your wands." His voice became low and dangerous. He reminded Hermione of a large black panther, ready to strike, all silk and steel and pure force.

"Expelliarmis!" Ron broke the silence, firing a disarming spell. Harry froze, staring at him in shock.

Snape dodged the spell almost lazily. "Really, Weasley, did you think such a pathetic attempt was going to work? It took all three of you to disarm me in the Shrieking Shack, or did you forget that? Rule number one: Know your enemy. Incarcerous."

Ropes shot out of the end of his wand, binding Harry tightly. Snape made a tut-tut noise, "Quite pathetic. Rule number two: Never take your eyes from your enemy."

He should have taken his own advice, though, for Hermione had charmed one of Dumbledore's chintz armchairs to move behind him. Chintz fabric shot out of the arms, pulling Snape down into its squashy depths, attempting to bind him.

"Good, Miss Granger, though not quite good enough," and his voice was behind her suddenly, yanking her head back by her hair. "Rule three: if you wish to incapacitate your enemy, you would do well to disarm him." A wand pressed into her cheek, and a whispered Accio snatched her wand from nerveless fingers.

Harry struggled against the ropes that held him fast. "Let her go, you prick! Your problem is with me, not her!"

"On the contrary, Potter, Miss Granger has been a buck-toothed thorn in my arse since Day One. I have plenty of problems, though none with hurting our resident Know-It-All. Sectumspectra."

Hermione heard fabric rip, and saw blood begin to flow down her arm. It hadn't hurt, oddly – must be shock, she thought. Have to do something. Harry was still screaming and struggling with his bonds, and Ron was just standing there, looking at Professor Snape with an odd expression.

"Ron, do something!" Hermione screamed, fiercely struggling against her captor. She managed to plow her elbow into his diaphragm, and a soft groan alerted her to the fact that she'd hurt him. A few more well-placed elbows later, and she had gotten free of the traitorous Potions Master.

Ron burst out laughing – a deep, echoing belly laugh that seemed to reverberate through the cottage and burst into the woods. Hermione whipped around to face Snape, hissing, "What did you do to him?"

Now Ron's breath was coming in harsh gasps punctuated by giggles, though he still tried to speak. "Oh, Merlin...I can't believe... " he gasped.

Hermione, though, was not paying attention to his words. She was looking at the fourteen inches of willow wood that hung limply in his fingers. She lunged for it, feeling the unfamiliar wand spark and buck in her fingers.

"Animatius! Oppungo!" she cried, directing the wand at an overturned bowl of lemon drops. The now-animated drops flew towards Snape, gnashing their little sugary teeth. Two of them struck, one in his thigh and one in his shoulder, and the wounds created began to bleed freely. Snape staggered slightly, and lifted his wand.

Before he could do anything, though, a bluish light streaked from a toppled armchair and created a barrier of light between the three students and their former professor. Hermione prodded it with Ron's wand to find that it was like steel, and she bet that no spells could be cast through it.

Snape, who did not seem to find this at all odd, sat heavily on the floor, and began rummaging in his cloak. Ron, who seemed to have recovered the ability to speak, solemnly held out his hand for his wand.

"That's enough, Hermione. He didn't hurt you."

"Yes, he did! Look at my arm, the blood... He used that cutting curse..."

Ron pulled back her sleeve to show her the unblemished skin beneath. "I'm ashamed, 'Mione. For once, I was listening and you weren't. He didn't say Sectumsempra, he said Sectumspectra. Looks like all it does is create the illusion of a wound."

"Ten points to Gryffindor, Mr. Weasley. It's a very useful spell in this line of work. May I ask what you found so funny earlier?" said Snape, pulling a small pot out from inside his robes.

Ron smiled, though Hermione could not fathom why. "One, because you were getting beaten up on by a girl. Two, because I'd just realized that we'd all been taken for fools. Again."

That being said, Snape released Harry from his bonds. The black-haired youth flexed his limbs slowly, and then addressed the armchair. "All right, Professor, I think I get it. Come out," and he poked the armchair with his wand.

Pop!

There sat Professor Dumbledore, still whole and unharmed.

"Delightful! Now that we're all here, I think a cup of tea is in order." With a wave of his wand, the little cottage was set to rights. Two swishes and a flick later, a fire was blazing and a teakettle was gently steaming on the low table in front of it. He sat down in the purple armchair closest to the fire, and motioned for the rest of them to sit down. Harry leapt to take the seat next to Dumbledore, and Ron followed behind Harry, leaving Hermione to sit next to Snape, who had taken the chair across from Albus. She stiffly sat down, wondering what in the world was going on.

"All in good time, Miss Granger, all in good time. And before you ask, it's written all over your face. We shall begin with Harry. How did you know it was me?"

Harry blushed and looked down at his trainers. "Umm, well... once I started thinking again, I remembered that I'd seen this before. When we went to see Slughorn before sixth year started, and he made us think he'd been kidnapped... I remembered the smell of dragon's blood."

"Very good. I'm sure Miss Granger has already told you that there are trials before entering the Order of the Phoenix, and this is one of yours. You must learn to think and not just blindly react. Now, Mr. Weasley – I have already heard how you noticed the different incantations, but allow me to communicate the nature of your first trial. You must learn to listen and think for yourself. You rely too heavily on Hermione and Harry to lead you, but there is great potential in you. Have confidence in yourself, and you will go far."

It was Ron's turn to blush, and he stammered, "Th-thank you, Professor."

"Albus, please. I am not your professor any longer."

"Oh. Um, well, I'll try. And, um, you can call me Ron, not Mr. Weasley."

"That is all I ask. Thank you for permitting me use of your first name, Ron. Now, Hermione..." He paused, biting into a crumpet. "Tell me, child. How do you believe you are doing with your trial?"

Hermione pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. "Not too well. I didn't look past what I saw... but... will you tell me how you did it, now? Why is Snape here?"

"These are questions that you already know the answers to. Severus betrayed our cause in a moment of stupidity in his youth. While that is his story to tell, the act marked him as a traitor. Such marks are not easily erased. When it came down to losing Severus, Draco, or me, I chose myself. Love is a funny thing. I love Severus, and when in that love I chose to die so he might live, the magic stepped in. The magic saw that I had sacrificed myself out of love for one who was marked as a traitor, and I was restored. Severus now has access to more information within the Death Eaters, and in that way, he is saving us all."

She looked at Professor Snape out of the corner of her eye. "So he was the Protector after all... What does Mrs. Weasley have to do with him? I saw it in that Arithmancy equation, but I wasn't sure what happened."

She was surprised when Snape spoke. "She... helped me. I do not wish to speak of it, but I will say that I have been staying in the Burrow since," and here he gave a small cough, "it happened."

Ron was incredulous. "You mean you were staying in my house and I didn't even know? Where were you?"

It was Hermione who answered. "The attic. I smelled healing herbs up there one day – you made all of Ron's potions for him when he got attacked, didn't you?"

"Some of them. There was a curse placed on the leg wound that the St. Mungo's healers overlooked. Unsurprising, really, given that Lucius Malfoy developed it. It was a blood-based curse that would have given him an alarming degree of control over you."

Ron stood and walked over to Professor Snape. He bowed, and said solemnly, "Thank you, sir. I owe you."

"No, I owe your mother. She has done... much for me. I only regret that he was acting alone, and that I did not know of your plight until it was too late."

"I regret that I didn't notice something was off before, Ron. I feel horrible," said Hermione with a small sniffle.

A handkerchief floated into her field of vision, and she accepted it gratefully.

"I think Ron already knows that, m'dear. Now, do you see the importance of considering possibilities other than the ones shown to you?" asked Albus kindly.

"I do. It's just so hard..."

"It is not as hard as you think. Let us try a little exercise, shall we? Please, tell me what you think about Argus Filch."

"He's cruel... he seems to resent students and takes great pleasure in punishing them."

"Is that so? Severus, perhaps you could enlighten Miss Granger on Mr. Filch's story? I think you both may learn something interesting from it. I need to speak with Ron and Mr. Potter for just a moment..."

She heard Harry say, "Really, sir, you can call me Harry..." but all of her attention was now focused on the man in front of her.

**

"...for no one is on my side" is from J.R.R. Tolkien's esteemed LotR.

Out of the Silent Planet is the first novel in C.S. Lewis's Space Trilogy.

Thank you to WickedlyWanton, as usual. You are awesome!

Thanks to you all for reading, as well. I love hearing from you, so leave a review!