Revelation
The moment the hissing of the airlock ceased and the oxygen indicator flashed green, Draco and Theo shed their suits with a swift flick of their wands. The soft hum of the ship reverberated in the background, its lights flickering faintly like distant stars. Hermione’s unconscious body floated gently between them, cradled by a delicate levitation spell. Her pale face, framed by disheveled hair, appeared eerily serene—too still. Draco’s sharp grey eyes darted over her form with an intensity that betrayed his usual composed demeanor.
They moved with practiced urgency toward the medical bay, bypassing the decontamination process as the automated systems powered down prematurely.
“I’m overriding the decontamination procedure. Bring her directly to the medical bay,” Elena’s voice crackled over the comms, clipped and commanding. As her words ended, the doors to the medical bay slid open with a sharp hiss, revealing the muggle crew hastily assembled inside.
The murmured chatter among the team died abruptly at the sight of Hermione’s limp form. Aditi pushed herself forward instinctively, her face a blend of disbelief and alarm. Her movements were hesitant, her eyes darting between Draco, Theo, and the faint magical aura still flickering around Hermione’s body.
“Is—Is she…” Aditi began, her voice unsteady as she cautiously floated closer. She reached out, as though to check Hermione’s vitals, but froze mid-motion as her gaze landed on the wands in Draco and Theo’s hands. Her eyes widened in fear, the tension in the room palpable. “What… what are those?” she demanded, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Have you done something to her? Did the ship do something to you?”
Draco’s jaw tightened, his knuckles whitening as his grip on his wand shifted slightly. His voice was sharp, his words clipped but controlled. “I will say this only once. She seems stable for the moment, but we don’t have time to waste.”
His piercing gaze swept the room, landing briefly on Elena before shifting to each of their teammates in turn. His tone left no room for argument.
“What I’m about to tell you violates an international law that has stood for over 300 years. Magic exists. Theo, Hermione, and I are wizards. We were brought into this mission because of the possibility that the ship’s technology—or whatever it is—has extraterrestrial magical origins. We are human, just like you. We had nothing to do with the appearance of this ship, nor do we pose any threat to this mission. Our sole purpose here is to ensure its success.” His voice softened slightly, though the weight of his words remained. “I understand this is a lot to take in, and I promise we’ll answer all of your questions and provide full disclosure. But right now—”
Draco’s voice faltered, just for a moment, as his gaze flickered to Hermione’s motionless form. The sight of her like this—unconscious and vulnerable—was an image he couldn’t reconcile with the fierce, determined woman he had come to know. He swallowed hard and forced his focus back to the room. “Right now, we need to stabilize her. Whatever happened on that ship… we don’t have the luxury of doubt or hesitation.”
The room fell silent, the weight of his revelation hanging thick in the air. Aditi’s hand dropped slowly, her expression caught between shock and wariness as she attempted to take an instinctive step back. Elena, holding a medical scanner, stared at Draco with wide eyes, her fingers faltering on the controls.
“Wizards?” she echoed, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re telling me… magic? You’re—”
“Yes,” Theo interrupted smoothly, pulling himself forward, his usual smirk replaced by an uncharacteristically serious expression. “Magic. Wands. Spells. The whole thing. I know it’s a lot to process, but Hermione’s life is hanging in the balance, and we don’t have time to argue semantics.”
“But… that… can’t be real,” Aditi murmured, her voice trembling with disbelief. Her eyes darted between Draco and Theo, desperate for something tangible to anchor her in a moment that felt surreal.
Theo floated forward, his usual irreverent air replaced with a rare seriousness. “We don’t have time for debates,” he said firmly, his voice steady despite the underlying anxiety. “Hermione was our Healer—the one who actually knew what she was doing when it came to magical medical work. We can manage some diagnostics and basic spells, but this?” He gestured to Hermione’s prone body. “This is beyond us. We need your equipment. Now.”
His eyes flicked over the group, lingering on each face, as if daring them to argue. The tension was palpable, and Theo held his breath, silently grappling with the weight of their secrecy. How could he expect them to accept this? For all the muggles knew, they could’ve been compromised—taken over by some alien force. The mistrust in their wide eyes was a stark reminder of the tightrope they were walking.
Elena broke the silence, her expression inscrutable as she studied them. Finally, she nodded, her voice clipped but decisive. “I believe you. Everyone, let’s move. Get Granger to the table.”
Aditi hesitated for only a fraction of a second before pushing herself forward, her hands reaching out to guide Hermione toward the scanning equipment. But before she could make contact, Draco flicked his wrist, sending Hermione’s body floating smoothly through the air. Another wand movement secured her gently to the table with glowing restraints that shimmered faintly before fading. Aditi froze, her brow furrowing, and opened her mouth to speak—but Draco cut her off with a sharp command.
“Focus on the scans,” he snapped, his patience visibly fraying. His voice, sharp and commanding, left little room for protest.
The urgency in his tone jolted the team into action. Elena and Aditi moved quickly, their hands darting over the controls as they adjusted the monitors and equipment. Robert and Simon stood to the side, their eyes meeting as they stared at each other in disbelief, waiting for a command; they were much less familiar with the medical bay and seemed to understand that their involvement right now would only slow the others down. As the buzz of machinery filled the room, the crew’s gazes kept drifting toward Draco and Theo, the reality of their revelation too extraordinary to ignore.
The wands. The murmured Latin. The subtle flickers of light and energy radiating from their movements—it was undeniable now. Magic wasn’t theoretical or otherworldly. It was here, real, and inextricably woven into the trio who had been among them all along.
Elena’s sharp eyes tracked Draco’s movements, suspicion flickering behind her calm demeanor. “How long?” she asked tersely, her voice low but cutting through the tension. “How long have you been hiding this?”
Draco leaned closer to Hermione, his wand tracing a faint line above her chest as he murmured an incantation. Without looking up, he replied, “Right now, that doesn’t matter. Hermione is the priority. We’ll answer your questions later.”
Elena’s lips parted as if to protest, but Theo interrupted, his voice steady and quieter than usual. “We’ve already broken the Statute of Secrecy,” he said. “Telling you this puts us all at risk. But at this point, what’s done is done. We’ll give you the full story—after we’re sure she’s stable.”
Elena’s eyes narrowed, but after a beat, she turned back to the medical scanner. “Fine,” she bit out. “But I expect answers.”
Draco exchanged a quick glance with Theo, who gave him a faint nod before turning back to monitor the glowing runes above Hermione. Each flicker of energy, each erratic spark, was a grim reminder of the unknown they were facing. The ship’s systems were the only sound for a moment, thickening the tension in the room.
Finally, Aditi broke the silence, her voice hoarse as she spoke. “The initial scans are showing she’s alive and stable. That’s the good news. But there’s something… unusual about her readings. The energy patterns are erratic, unlike anything I’ve seen before.”
Draco’s shoulders stiffened, his voice low but sharp as he asked, “Define unusual.”
Aditi hesitated, her fingers hovering over the monitor. “It’s as if her bio-signature has… shifted. It’s still her, but there’s something else layered on top. Almost like an imprint—or a resonance. I’ll need more time to analyze it fully.”
Theo let out a long breath, his gaze locked on Hermione. “Time we might not have,” he muttered under his breath.
Elena shot him a hard look but said nothing, her hands moving deftly over the controls. The tension between the two teams—the magical and the muggle—was razor-thin, but for now, their shared goal held them together.
Draco’s eyes never left Hermione, his voice tight as he addressed Theo. “You think we’re even scratching the surface?”
Theo’s jaw tightened, his usual levity nowhere to be found. “No,” he said quietly. “I think we’ve just pried open the lid of something far bigger than we’re ready for.”
Draco’s grey eyes flickered with something unreadable—concern, determination, fear—all of it swirling beneath the surface. “Then we make sure to learn as much as we can.” he said firmly.
Theo nodded, his expression grim but resolute. “Agreed. Let’s hope the rest of the team can keep up.”
The soft beeping of the monitors punctuated the tense silence as Elena and her team worked with efficient precision. The harsh glare of the medical bay’s fluorescent lights reflected off the sterile surfaces, casting sharp, clinical shadows that only heightened the unease in the room. Draco stood like a sentinel beside Hermione’s still form, his grey eyes flicking over the monitors with grim focus. His shoulders were stiff, tension radiating from every inch of him. Theo, floating a step behind him, moved his wand in slow, deliberate arcs, muttering diagnostic spells under his breath as faint trails of magic shimmered and dissipated.
But the muggle team, still visibly shaken by the revelation that Draco and Theo were wizards, remained on edge. The weight hung heavily in the air, creating a palpable divide. This wasn’t just unexpected—it was unfathomable. They had prepared for alien phenomena, for unknown technologies, but not this. Not magic. The gulf between their world and what Draco and Theo had just described seemed impossibly wide.
Robert broke the silence, his voice low but filled with disbelief. “So… you’re telling us that you’ve been keeping this secret… this entire time?” His eyes darted between Draco and Theo, searching their expressions as if trying to reconcile the impossible.
Draco’s sharp gaze snapped to Robert, his irritation barely restrained. “Not the time, Robert,” he bit out, his voice clipped and raw. Exhaustion tinged his words, but his focus remained unwaveringly on Hermione. His jaw tightened, and his hand reflexively gripped the edge of the table, his knuckles white. “We have more pressing concerns right now.”
Theo stepped in before the tension could escalate further, placing a steadying hand on Draco’s shoulder. “Draco,” he said quietly, his voice calm but firm, “we’ve done everything we can for the moment. They deserve answers.”
Draco held Theo’s gaze for a moment, his expression tight with frustration, before exhaling sharply and floating back, though his posture remained rigid. Theo turned to face the muggle team, his tone measured and deliberate, though a trace of unease flickered in his eyes.
“We were born this way,” Theo began, his voice steady as he glanced briefly at each member of the team. “I know how impossible this sounds. But magic—our world—it’s real. It’s existed alongside yours for centuries, hidden in plain sight. Wizards, witches, magical creatures… they’ve been there all along.”
He paused, his gaze shifting briefly to Draco, who remained silent, his expression unreadable. Then Theo continued, his tone firm but not unkind. “The International Statute of Secrecy was established in the 1600s to protect both worlds—ours and yours. It was meant to keep magic hidden, to prevent fear, persecution, and… well, chaos. It’s why you’ve never known about us.”
Elena, who had been quietly adjusting the equipment, straightened, her sharp eyes fixed on Theo. “And yet here you are, breaking this… Statute. Why now?”
Theo’s lips twitched in something resembling a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Because we didn’t have a choice. This mission—this ship—everything about it demanded magical intervention. We tried to push for full disclosure before we even got here, but we were overruled by our government. Now, with what’s happened to Hermione, keeping it from you would be irresponsible.”
Aditi floated closer, her gaze darting between Theo and Draco. “And what about that ship? The one you three were just on? Are you saying… it’s connected to your magic?”
Draco finally spoke, his voice low and steady, though a note of tension threaded through his words. “Yes. It responds to magic—adapts to it. That’s why we were brought onto this mission in the first place. We’re the only ones who can interact with it safely.” His eyes flicked back to Hermione, softening momentarily before narrowing again. “Or at least, that was the assumption.”
Robert crossed his arms, his skepticism still evident despite the mounting evidence. “So this is why the ship recognized you? It’s not alien—it’s… magical?”
“Both, we believe.” Theo replied, his tone thoughtful. “We’re still piecing it together, just like you. But one thing’s clear: the ship’s energy and magic aren’t separate. They’re intertwined. And until we understand how, we’re all at risk.”
Elena’s gaze hardened. “And how are we supposed to trust you? You’ve kept this from us—lied to us.”
Draco’s eyes flashed, and he floated forward, his presence commanding. “We didn’t lie. We followed the orders we were given. Orders we didn’t agree with, by the way. But now…” His gaze swept over the room, landing briefly on Hermione before meeting Elena’s eyes. “Now, everything’s changed. You don’t have to trust us, but you do have to work with us.”
Simon, who had been silent for most of the conversation, floated forward, his brow deeply furrowed as he processed everything. “So, what you’re telling me,” he said slowly, his tone laden with disbelief, “is that everything we know about history, about the world around us… has been a lie? You’ve been living alongside us, using magic, and none of us had a clue?”
Theo’s lips pressed into a thin line, and he met Simon’s gaze with an uncharacteristically serious expression. “That’s one way to look at it,” he said evenly. “But it’s not like we had much of a choice. We didn’t choose to stay hidden because we wanted to deceive anyone. It was about survival. Centuries ago, exposing magic meant persecution—witch hunts, fear, violence. The Statute of Secrecy wasn’t about trickery; it was about keeping everyone—wizard and muggle—safe.” He glanced at Robert, his expression softening. “I get that this sounds impossible. But magic’s real. It’s always been real. You just never saw it.”
Draco let out a sharp breath, pulling himself forward. His movements were stiff, and his tone was colder and more clipped than Theo’s. “And now, here we are,” he said sharply. “A room full of people who, until an hour ago, probably thought magic was a children’s story. But we don’t have time to dwell on that. There’s something far bigger at stake.” He gestured to Hermione, unconscious on the table, his jaw tightening. “The ship we encountered—it’s a threat. Whatever it’s brought with it, it’s affecting her. And we don’t have the luxury of indulging your disbelief.”
Elena crossed her arms, taking a deep breath to steady herself. The weight of everything they’d just revealed pressed heavily on her, but she knew Draco was right. Still, her skepticism lingered in her eyes. “Okay,” she said finally, her voice measured but resolute. “Magic exists. Fine. I’ll accept that. But this—” she gestured toward the readings on the monitors and the faint glow still emanating from Hermione’s body—“this is beyond magic, isn’t it? What’s happening to her? What’s happening to that ship? Why are these readings so volatile?”
Draco’s lips tightened, and he exchanged a glance with Theo before speaking. “That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” he said tersely. “The ship’s energy initially affected Hermione the same way it affected us on our first visit, though now, it’s obviously different. Whatever energy that ship held—it wasn't dormant; it was… alive, somehow.” His tone grew sharper as he continued, “On our first visit, we noticed it strengthened our magical cores—how we produce and channel magic. It was subtle at first, but it was undeniable. The ship isn’t just a vessel. It’s infused with magic, possibly from another world.”
Elena’s eyes narrowed as she processed his words. “And you didn’t think to share this earlier?”
Theo stepped in before Draco could respond, his tone smoother, though still serious. “We tried,” he said, his gaze sweeping over the team, lingering on Robert with an almost pleading look. “All of us pushed for full transparency before we even left Earth. But the decision wasn’t ours to make. From the moment this ship was detected, there were signs that magic was involved. That’s why the ESA reached out to our government and brought us in. We were supposed to help keep the muggles—you—safe.”
“Muggles?” Simon echoed, his confusion evident.
“Non-magic folk,” Theo explained quickly. His gaze softened as he continued, his voice quiet but firm. “This wasn’t how we wanted things to happen. Rodotà and the wizarding board members knew magic was involved, but instead of full disclosure, our government decided to keep things classified. It was… a mistake. One we fought against.”
Elena’s brow furrowed, her voice hard. “Wait. Rodotà? Are you saying he’s a wizard too? But I’ve worked with him for years—I’d know if—”
“No,” Draco cut in curtly. “He’s not. Rodotà’s a muggle. But as the Director General of the ESA, he’s one of the few exceptions to the Statute of Secrecy. World leaders, along with the heads of a few key organizations, like the ESA, are notified of our existence. It’s part of their role.”
Elena stared at him, her expression torn between disbelief and reluctant acceptance. “So, he’s known all this time? And he chose to keep us in the dark?”
“Yes,” Draco replied, his tone cool but edged with frustration. “But tell me—would you have believed him? Given how this conversation is going—after you’ve already seen us perform magic—I’d wager you’d have had him committed to hospital.”
Elena’s lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes narrowing as she absorbed his words. “You’re not wrong,” she admitted after a pause, her tone sharp. “But that doesn’t make it any easier to swallow. We’ve put our lives on the line for this mission—trusted Rodotà implicitly—and he kept something like this from us?”
Robert let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head as he leaned against the edge of the medical console. “Honestly? If Rodotà had walked into the briefing room and told us magic was real, I’d have thought he’d lost the plot. Hell, I probably would’ve been the first one to recommend he see a shrink.”
Aditi’s brow furrowed as she crossed her arms, her voice thoughtful but tinged with frustration. “Still… to make a decision like that on our behalf? He’s known us for years. He should’ve trusted us to handle it.”
“Trusted you to handle it?” Theo interjected, his voice calm but firm as he floated closer to the group. “Do you think this has been easy for us? The Statute of Secrecy isn’t just a suggestion—it’s the foundation of our entire world. It exists because revealing magic has historically led to chaos. Rodotà didn’t keep this from you out of spite. He did it because he believed it was necessary to keep this mission—and you—safe.”
Simon let out a humorless laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Safe? That’s rich. We’re floating next to a ship that defies everything we know about science and physics, and now we’re supposed to factor in magic? You’re telling me the world’s been playing by two different sets of rules this whole time, and we didn’t even get the memo?”
Draco turned his sharp gaze to Simon, his grey eyes hard as steel. “Exactly. And do you know why? Because the minute the world finds out about magic, everything changes. The balance between muggle and magical societies crumbles. Wars have been fought to keep this balance intact. You think learning about magic now is overwhelming? Imagine if the entire world knew.”
The weight of Draco’s words hung in the air like a tangible force, silencing the room. Aditi glanced at Simon, her expression softening. “Enough, Simon. This isn’t the time to dissect centuries of secrecy. The mission comes first.”
Theo nodded, his expression serious and composed. “Elena, I’m genuinely sorry that we kept this from you, and that Rodotà made the call about the boarding team without consulting you. If you’d had all the information from the start, I believe you’d have made the same decisions. But it was out of our hands.” He glanced at Draco briefly before continuing. “When we got on the ship, it became clear that it was trying to communicate with us, trying to share… something. We couldn’t understand it, not entirely. Hermione attempted to bridge the gap, but she was exposed to a pulse—an energy wave. It’s unlike anything we’ve ever encountered before. The magical energy seems to have merged with her own, different than it did with Draco and I. It’s causing disruptions, and we don’t know if it’s temporary or permanent.”
Robert’s voice broke the silence, cautious but gaining confidence. “And that’s why you need us—our tools—to diagnose what your magic can’t detect.” He hesitated, glancing between Theo and Draco. “But this magic you’re talking about… is it like what you used to buckle her in? Spells?”
Theo’s mouth twitched, his dry humor surfacing despite the gravity of the moment. “Yes, Robbie. Buckling her in was a simple charm. But magic isn’t just about spells. It’s woven into everything in our world—our air, our soil, our very existence. Wizards have affinities for different branches of magic: charms, potions, transfiguration... It’s a system, a way of understanding the world, but it’s unlike anything you’ve studied.”
Draco crossed his arms, his tone colder, more clipped. “It’s not a tool, and it’s not easily categorized. The sooner you accept that, the faster we can move forward.”
Theo shot Draco a warning glance, but before he could speak, Elena stepped in, her voice steady but hard. “Alright,” she said, her words cutting through the tension. “I’m starting to piece this together, but I need more than vague explanations. This ship, this magical energy, whatever’s happening to Hermione—it’s beyond anything we’ve encountered before. I need all the information you have. No more half-truths, no more secrecy. If this pertains to my team, and that includes you three, I need to know everything.”
Draco and Theo exchanged a brief look, a silent conversation passing between them. Then Theo inclined his head, meeting Elena’s gaze squarely. “No more secrets,” he said evenly. “You’ve proven yourself capable, and we’ll defer to your judgment moving forward, provided we’re allowed to share all the magical knowledge we can to help resolve this.”
Elena’s eyes flicked between the two wizards, her expression firm but thoughtful. The weight of the situation pressed heavily on her shoulders, but she knew there was no turning back now. She gave a single, curt nod. “Fine,” she said, her voice steady but resolute. “Then let’s get to work.
“Our machines will alert us to any changes in Hermione’s condition,” she continued, turning toward Aditi. “Take everything we’ve gathered so far and analyze it—focus on figuring out how to wake her. Robert, Simon—go back through all the data we’ve collected, especially during the signal blackout. Now that we know magic’s in play, there might be things we missed. Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Nott—prepare a full report of everything you know about this ship, its energy, and anything else that might be relevant.”
Elena’s gaze softened slightly, though her voice remained firm. “I appreciate your honesty, and I apologize for my earlier assumptions. I don’t like being kept in the dark, but I understand why you did what you did. Let’s hope, with our combined talents, we can address this situation and keep everyone safe.”
Draco gave a small nod, his expression unreadable but tense. “We’ll start immediately.”
Theo allowed himself a faint smile, his usual levity tempered by the seriousness of the moment. “Let’s make sure this doesn’t get worse.”
The room was silent for a beat as everyone absorbed the gravity of their new reality before moving to their respective tasks. The air in the medical bay remained tense, but for the first time, there was a sense of fragile unity—magic and science working together, however uneasy the alliance might be.
The hum of the Arcanis thrummed in the background as the team worked tirelessly in the main hub of the ship, double-checking every scrap of data they had collected. The tension in the air had settled into an uneasy rhythm, punctuated occasionally by a light joke or shared glance that reminded everyone they were still human beneath the weight of their mission.
Elena stood at her monitors, her sharp eyes darting between readings as she adjusted the settings with precise, practiced movements. Her brow was furrowed, concentration etched across her face, but she remained aware of the strained but still growing rapport between the muggle crew and their newfound allies.
A sudden smack from the doorway broke her focus, and she turned to see Theo drifting in, one hand pressed to the frame where he had clearly slapped it to stop himself after misjudging his speed.
“Ah, yes,” Theo said breezily, tapping the doorway again as if testing its sturdiness. “Quite secure, this doorway. Top marks.” Soft chuckles rippled through the room. “Carry on, everyone. Just ensuring the structural integrity of the Arcanis, you understand,” he added with a smirk.
Floating over to Elena, Theo handed her a neat stack of notes he had duplicated from Hermione’s notebook, accompanied by a few scribbled annotations from both himself and Draco.
“This is everything we’ve got so far,” he said, his tone casual but tinged with sincerity. “We tried to define any magical terms we could, though Hermione’s really the expert when it comes to bridging the gap. She grew up in your world. Draco and I... well, this is our first real immersion into the muggle experience. If there’s anything unclear or if you need us to expand, just let us know.”
Elena murmured a distracted thank you, already flipping through the notes, her eyes scanning the pages with a practiced intensity. Theo watched her for a moment before turning to leave. As he glanced up, he caught Robert’s eye. The astrophysicist was muttering under his breath, jotting furiously in a notebook, the telltale signs of a mind racing with half-formed ideas.
Theo drifted closer, his curiosity piqued. “Still struggling to believe it all?” he asked, leaning lazily against a console, though his eyes were keen.
Robert looked up, blinking as if pulled from a deep reverie. His face softened as a sheepish smile tugged at his lips. “I’m not sure ‘believe’ is the right word,” he admitted, his voice quiet but tinged with wonder. “But I’m starting to understand—at least, a little. Honestly, the more I think about it, the more fascinated I am.” His eyes brightened, his scientific curiosity overtaking his earlier skepticism. “Magic. Living, breathing magic, interacting with technology? It’s like... like quantum physics meeting an entirely new dimension of possibility.”
Theo chuckled, shaking his head in mock disbelief. “You muggles. Always so eager to overcomplicate things. Magic’s been around for centuries, you know. You just didn’t see it.”
Robert held up his hands in mock surrender, laughing. “Alright, fair. But you have to admit, magic and technology together? That’s... groundbreaking. If we can figure out how to understand it, harness it—it could change everything. Medicine, energy, construction... the future would be unrecognizable.”
Theo raised an eyebrow, his grin fading as his tone turned thoughtful. “Is that what you’re after, then?” he asked, his voice quieter now. “Using magic to drive science forward?”
Robert didn’t miss a beat. “Absolutely. If we can coexist, find a way to integrate our worlds, imagine the possibilities. We’d be talking about advancements no one’s dared dream of. Think about what we could build together. It’s the next frontier, Theo. Magic and science together.”
Theo studied him for a long moment, his expression unreadable, before a small smile broke through. “Intriguing,” he admitted. “But right now, I’m more concerned about keeping us all alive than planning humanity’s next golden age.”
Robert laughed again, leaning back in his seat. “Fair enough,” he said, a spark of amusement in his eyes. “But when this is all over, I want to have this conversation properly. You’ve got to admit—it’s exciting.”
Theo let out a soft snort, shaking his head. “Alright, Robbie,” he said, his tone wry. “Let’s survive this mission first. Then we’ll see about saving the world.”
Robert grinned, and for a moment, the tension in the room lifted, replaced by the faintest sense of camaraderie. Theo turned back toward the hallway, a thoughtful expression on his face. Magic and science. Two worlds colliding. Maybe, just maybe, there was something there worth exploring—if they lived long enough to see it.
__
The hum of the medical bay was deafening in the silence that emerged after the team’s exit. The beeping of the monitors, once a distant background noise, had grown louder and more insistent as Hermione's condition fluctuated—stable but weak. The room felt suffocating, the air thick with tension.
Draco remained, a silent vigil by Hermione’s side. His posture was rigid, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, though his fingers digging into his sleeves betrayed the storm brewing beneath his composed exterior. His sharp grey eyes flicked over the monitors, tracking every flicker, every fluctuation of light. The smallest shift sent his heart racing. The weight of the mission pressed heavily on his shoulders, but his focus never wavered from her—the one person they had failed to protect from the chaos.
He couldn’t shake the question that had haunted him since they’d returned to the Arcanis: How had it come to this? How had everything unraveled so quickly?
He wasn’t sure the others hadn’t noticed the extent of his growing restlessness. The silence was broken by Theo’s entry, the ghost of a grin leaving his face as he began muttering as he waved his wand over Hermione’s prone form, attempting to stabilize the erratic magical surges. But Draco’s mind was far from the calculations or the mission; it was locked on her. His gaze traced the contours of her face, pale and peaceful in unconsciousness, even as his thoughts spiraled deeper.
Not even a month ago, Hermione Granger had been just a colleague—albeit a brilliant, fiercely driven colleague with a no-nonsense attitude that rivaled his own. She was someone he apparently worked well with and, occasionally, clashed with, but that was the extent of it. Or so he had thought.
It had started long before this mission, he realized now. Third year. The punch. She had struck him, full-force, right across the face, and the sting of it had burned more deeply than the physical pain. At first, it was humiliation; she had dared to strike him, Draco Malfoy, heir to one of the most prominent wizarding families in Britain. But as the years went on, he realized it wasn’t humiliation that lingered—it was a grudging admiration. That punch, and everything it symbolized, had haunted him in ways he couldn’t articulate. It was strength. It was defiance. It was a courage he hadn’t known he envied.
And then there was the Yule Ball. He could still see her descending the stairs, her periwinkle dress floating gracefully as she moved. The memory was seared into his mind—the way she had looked that night, radiant and self-assured, standing out like a beacon in the sea of students. His chest had burned with an unfamiliar jealousy as she danced with Viktor Krum, and it had taken all his willpower to convince himself the feeling was rooted in disdain. She was a Gryffindor, after all, and—his father’s voice echoed in his mind—a Mudblood. She was supposed to be beneath him. But in those moments, she had seemed untouchable. And he hated her for it. Or so he told himself.
As the war loomed closer, those feelings were buried beneath layers of survival. His life had been consumed by desperation—desperation to save himself, his mother, to do whatever it took to escape the suffocating expectations and the impossible choices forced upon him. There had been no room for childish notions of admiration, no space for longing, and certainly no place for Hermione Granger.
Until that night at Malfoy Manor.
The memory of her screams still haunted him. The fear in her eyes when she’d been dragged before him by the Snatchers. The way she had looked at him—not with hatred, but with trust, trust she shouldn’t have had. That trust had shattered something inside him, cracked open the cold armor he had built to survive. And now, here she was again, lying helpless before him, and he felt that same, familiar helplessness gnawing at his core.
His chest tightened painfully as he reached out, brushing a stray curl away from her face. She looked so small, so fragile—words he would have never associated with Hermione Granger before now. She had always been the strongest of them all.
“Damn Gryffindors,” he muttered under his breath, his voice low and thick with emotion. His fingers lingered on her cheek, brushing against her pale skin. “You should never have attempted that spell on your own, Granger.”
His voice cracked on her name, the weight of everything he hadn’t said settling heavily in the room. He drew his hand back sharply, his jaw tightening as he stared at her, willing her to wake up.
The sterile hum of the medical bay was omnipresent, filling the space between Draco’s sharp, uneven breaths and Theo’s steady muttering as he worked through the magical readings.
“Theo,” Draco murmured finally, his voice low and strained, as if forcing the words through a clenched throat. “Do you think... is it possible this is some kind of curse?” He hated himself for asking. It felt weak, grasping at straws, but he needed an answer. He needed to know there was something—anything—they could do.
Theo paused, his brow furrowing as he looked up from the glowing data streams hovering in front of him. “A curse?” he echoed, letting out a slow breath as he considered the question. “I don’t think so, Draco. Curses don’t... evolve like this. They’re fixed, singular. What we’re dealing with is much more complicated. It’s not just magic.” He gestured vaguely with his wand toward the instruments monitoring Hermione. “When we first entered the ship, it gave us a gift—a strengthening of our magical cores. It was like it understood what we could handle, what we could take. But when Hermione cast that spell... it’s like she took on everything. You saw how the ship lost power. Whatever she encountered, it’s not something you can just undo with a potion or a counter-curse.”
Draco’s stomach twisted painfully at the words. “Everything...” he whispered, the weight of the word pressing down on him. “I don’t like the sound of that.”
Theo’s eyes softened as he studied his friend. He could see the barely restrained fear in Draco’s taut posture, in the sharp edge to his voice. Pushing himself away from his console, Theo floated closer, his movements slow and deliberate. “Look,” he said gently, “I know this is hard. But this is Hermione we’re talking about. The brightest witch of her age, remember? She’ll pull through. And if she saw us sitting here worrying ourselves to death instead of figuring out how to fix this, she’d be livid. You know she would.”
Draco stiffened, his jaw clenching, but he didn’t respond. His gaze never wavered from Hermione, her pale face framed by strands of unruly hair that had escaped their braid. He didn’t want to admit it—not even to Theo—but he was terrified. His bravado, the shield he had carried for years, was crumbling under the weight of the moment.
The room settled into a heavy silence, broken only by the rhythmic beeping of the monitors. Theo eventually returned to his work, his wand tracing intricate patterns in the air as he muttered spells under his breath. But Draco remained by Hermione’s side, unmoving, his thoughts spiraling.
After several minutes, he broke the quiet, his voice barely above a whisper. “Will this ever end, Theo?” His words were raw, stripped of their usual icy precision. “I feel like... like our lives have been nothing but one attempt after another to stop everything from falling apart. The war was supposed to be the end of it. I thought, after he fell, we might get a chance to live. But somehow, everything seems to lead back to hospital bedsides and waiting to see if the people are going to survive.”
Theo glanced up from his work, his expression unreadable. He studied Draco for a long moment before his gaze softened, and he floated closer again. “I wish I had an answer for you, mate,” Theo said quietly, his tone unusually tender. “But I do know this: we’re stronger than we think we are. We imagine things that we wouldn't be able to survive, but in fact, we do survive. We have no choice, so we do it.”
Draco’s eyes flicked up to meet Theo’s, the raw emotion in them startlingly clear. Theo placed a hand on Draco’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “I never thought I’d make it out of the war alive,” he admitted, his voice low. “Whether it was Voldemort or my father, I’d resigned myself to the idea I wouldn’t make it. But here I am. And not only that, I’ve had the chance to witness things I never imagined—magic beyond Earth, befriending Hermione Granger and watching her prove she’s more brilliant than all of us combined, and somehow... a reason to keep going.”
Draco let out a sharp breath, his grip tightening around the edge of the medical bed. Theo continued, his voice steady but tinged with emotion. “This ship, Hermione’s condition... it’s terrifying. We don’t know what’s coming next, or if we’ll even survive it. But we don’t get to choose that. All we can choose is how we respond. And me? I choose to keep going. For Hermione. For everyone we’ve lost. For the chance to see what’s waiting for us on the other side of all this.”
Draco’s throat tightened painfully as he turned back to Hermione. Her stillness was unbearable, a reminder of everything they were fighting for. His heart raced as he stared at her, his mind whirling with memories of her sharp wit, her stubborn determination, her fire.
“I can’t let her down,” he murmured, almost to himself. His voice cracked on the last word, his hands trembling as he reached out to brush her hair back from her face.
Theo watched him, his own expression conflicted. He wanted to say something comforting, something light to cut through the tension, but the gravity of the moment held him silent. Instead, he simply nodded, his fingers wrapped around the curve of his shoulder.
And so they stayed there, two men bound by the past, facing the unknown, their resolve hardening with each passing second. Whatever came next, Draco knew one thing for certain: he would fight for Hermione Granger with every ounce of strength he had left.