Dramione Collaboration

Rebirth

"I think we're ready," Draco says, straightening and glancing around the dimly lit room.

It looks like something out of a Wizarding museum. It's filled with magical artefacts so antiquated they're kept only for their age rather than their use. Any expert would say the magic they once carried is dormant now. Obsolete.

Not any longer.

Not in this room.

There are runes carved into the floor, careful arcs mapped to follow the intersection of the ley lines underground, all leading up to a series of stepped concentric circles in the centre of the room. Elemental magic is seeping up from them.

The air is still and so thick with magic that Draco can feel it coating his tongue and inside his lungs. He had this room cut into the stones beneath Malfoy Manor, even lower than the winding dungeon passages, trying to get as physically close to the ley lines as possible. There are no wands or any other types of Wizarding magic here. If Draco tried to cast even a simple spell in a room with this much raw elemental magic, he very well could blow up the entire manor.

There's a soft ringing hum emanating from an enormous silver cauldron that sits in the middle of the circles. The sound is so faint it's almost unnoticeable, but it feels increasingly insistent, the low whine simultaneously unnerving and alluring.

If Draco listens to it, he finds himself unconsciously walking towards the cauldron even as the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and a cold sweat begins beading between his shoulder blades.

Everything about the magic in the room feels other. He's not supposed to be there even as he obstinately stays, invoking magic that has been slumbering for so long most wizards have forgotten it ever existed.

Get out. Get out, mortal. Our magic isn't for your kind.

He finds himself stepping towards the cauldron before catching himself. A cold shiver creeps down his spine.

He shakes his head and turns away. "Granger, are you—?"

His voice halts as he turns to find Granger a crumpled heap in the far corner on the bench. She's lumped down against the wall, her eyes closed. A sealed phial held limply in one hand, a dim blue light, barely brighter than distant starlight, shines weakly from it.

His heart clenches as he moves towards her, eyes darting between her and the phial in her lap.

"Granger?" He kneels down, his fingers running down her throat, trying to find a pulse. "Granger?"

He finds the flutter of life under her jaw, as faint as the light inside the phial, but still there, still holding on. He sighs and pulls her forwards. "We're so close. We're almost there. Just hold on a little longer."

She doesn't stir, instead slumping against his chest, still unconscious. He wraps his arms around her for a moment, resting his chin on the top of her head before clearing his throat. "Granger, wake up. I need your help."

Without removing his fingers from the reassuring tempo of her pulse, he taps lightly against her cheeks with his other hand, trying to wake her, stroking along her temple. Her curls catch and wrap themselves around his fingertips.

"Mmm," she finally says, stirring.

Draco instantly sits back on his heels, pulling away and leaning her back against the wall as her eyebrows furrow and she wakes.

Her brown eyes met his as they opened and Draco's heart stalls for a moment when her expression lights up as she sees him.

"Draco, do you need help?"