Written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition - Semi-finals

Team: Holyhead Harpies

Position: Keeper

Prompt: Frankenstein - Write about a character being brought back from the dead and the results such an action would have

Summary: Draco attempts to bring Astoria back from the hands of Death

Word Count: 1,205

Warnings: As this is about bringing someone back from the dead, there will be grief, pain and death.

Bound by the life you left behind

She woke up to darkness. Was this where she was meant to be?

No… she was too present. Too aware. This wasn't right.

"Astoria?" a voice called to her. "Come back."

She did want to go back, but she shouldn't. She'd had her time.

No, she would stay where she was.

But here wasn't right either.

"Astoria!" the voice called again. More forceful. More pained.

Then there was pain. Deep inside. It pulled at her chest, taking her somewhere she shouldn't go.

XXX

Astoria took a breath as hands touched at her, pulled at her. The breath didn't feel right. She tried again.

"It worked. It really worked," Draco's voice said through sobs.

She forced her eyes open. Everything was too bright. It all hurt.

Now she was being hugged. It made her feel like her bones were being broken and skin was splitting.

"Stop," she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Astoria." Hands touched her cheeks. "Look at me. Please?"

She did as instructed. Draco's face hovered over hers, pale eyes full of tears and concern stared at her. "What did you do?" she asked. The effort to speak took away what little energy she had.

"It doesn't matter," he said with a loud sniff. He gave her a wobbly smile. "All that matters is you're back with us. We can be a family again."

Astoria closed her eyes again. She took another breath. It still felt wrong, like it wasn't needed but her body did it anyway.

"You promised," she finally said. The pain of being alive was too much. "You were meant to let me go."

"I tried, Astoria, but we need you."

Hands pulled at her, trying to make her sit up on the hard surface she was laid on. The movement made her feel like her bones were scraping against it. "Stop," she instructed, her whispery voice finding some force in it now.

Draco stopped trying to make her sit up. "What's wrong?"

She didn't answer immediately. She allowed herself time to lie there, to breathe the breaths that didn't satisfy her lungs and feel… everything.

"Death already had me. There is a cost to stealing from him."

Opening her eyes, she found Draco stood by her, reaching out, desperate to touch her again. A dark look came over his features. "He stole from me – from us! It wasn't meant to be your time!"

Her heart ached for him, for his grief. She thought she had prepared him for it. He'd had enough time to understand and accept it.

"Sit me up," she instructed.

Draco didn't hesitate to do as he was told. This time he was gentle. He scooped an arm under her neck and used his other hand to bring her legs over the edge of the surface.

She took in her surroundings; she was still in the Malfoy crypt and on a stone slab that would've held a coffin during the funeral in the centre of it. Lit candles decorated every available space and some hovered in the air above them. Runes were scattered on the floor and a line of salt seemed to circle the ground around the stone slab.

"Did you leave the salt circle?" she asked, her eyes lingering on the white substance.

"No. I'm not a novice," Draco said wryly. He squeezed a little too tightly around her waist as he moved closer to her.

"You have to make this right before you step out of the circle again."

"No!" he said forcefully, his voice bouncing off the stone walls.

A candle near the corner flickered out. It was starting.

"I know what spell you did, Draco," she told him. She could no longer tell if her energy was waning quickly from trying to remain sitting or the pain that hadn't left her since he'd brought her back. "I know the consequences that come with it."

"Then we'll deal with them together."

Another candle flickered out on one of the small side tables. She shook her head. "Draco… you don't steal from death."

"Stop saying that."

She didn't have the strength to argue with him. She started to slump into his side.

"You have until all the candles have gone out before it's too late," she whispered into his neck. "Then he will want what is his and more for the defiance."

"He can't have you." She could feel him shaking as he held her to him.

"If he can't take me back… if I leave this circle or the caster of the spell does before I'm sent back… then he will take what little bloodline I have left in the world. That is the cost of this spell."

"Scorpius." The name spilled from his lips.

Two more candles died out. The jumping shadows were getting large as each one lost its light.

"Send me back," she pleaded, closing her eyes as she tried to take the smell of him with her.

His response was a loud sniff. "I need you."

"No, Scorpius needs you."

Three candles went out.

"He needs you more than he needs me," Draco argued.

A drop of water fell on her cheek. No, not water – a tear. It burned as it traveled down her skin.

"Send me back."

Half the candles were now out.

"Draco."

"I can't."

The need to cry was building in her chest. He had to do this. A dry sob left her tired body. "Please."

"The woman has spoken," a low, growling voice spoke from the shadows. "Time is running out and I will take what is mine."

Astoria flinched as Draco wrapped both arms around her tightly and moved frantically to find the source of the voice. "She was never yours to take!"

The candles started going out one after the other. "Make a decision, boy, before I make one for you!"

"Draco," she cried. "Don't do this to Scorpius. Send me back."

There were three candles remaining.

Draco sniffed noisily, the sound echoing in the crypt, and she felt more tears land on her cheeks.

Another candle went out. The shadows were large and ominous, jumping around as the two remaining flames flickered.

"Tick tock!" the voice boomed. It vibrated deep in her bones.

They were down to one candle.

"Okay!" Draco shouted.

The last candle went out and plunged them into darkness.

"Too late."

XXX

Draco spun around. He was no longer in the crypt. He wasn't anywhere.

It was a vast open space that had no end and he was alone.

"Astoria?"

"Try again," the voice boomed. "Consider this your penance for stealing from me."

"Penance?"

"One minute will feel like a year. One year will feel like a century. You will be free in ten years. Can you keep your sanity until then?"

"I didn't steal! You stole from me!" His voice didn't echo, it was swallowed whole by the expanse of space.

"No… no, I stole nothing. But you will now know what it feels like when I do."

Draco opened his mouth to argue, to plead his case, but stopped. He couldn't explain it, but deep in his bones he knew he was truly alone now. There was no voice to answer him. He tried anyway. "Hello?"

"HELLO?!"