The morning was crisp, cool with the vestiges of fall crawling along the mild breeze that swept along the street, curling under the sides of his coat and licking at his skin. He shivered, drawing the edges closer to himself as he strode the few blocks to the cafe name they'd left for him. Pushing open the door, the smell of warm bread and coffee hung in the air, inviting him into the cozy dining room.

He could see Hermione at a table across the floor, face flushed as she threw her head back and laughed, hands wrapped around a white mug. Across from her he could make out the flaxen head of their guide, hands gesticulating in the air as he imparted whatever story was making her laugh with absolute abandon. A small smile lingered across his own lips, a slip of jealousy winding around his heart and releasing at the absence of worry in her expression. It was one of the few times he'd thought he'd ever see her so relaxed.

He wound through the tables, giving an apologetic wave as his hip bumped into a chair. He could tell the moment she noticed him, her shoulders tightening, mouth becoming stiffer, but she greeted him with a smile and a wave, gesturing him into the chair next to her, "Rabastan"

He nodded at her, "Granger"

The blonde man regarded him quietly for a moment, before bestowing an easy grin of his own, "Good morning, Lestrange. I hope the Inn treated you well"

He shrugged, shaking his napkin loose before placing it on his lap, "The Inn was divine. Antonin's snoring could use some silencing charms"

Hermione snorted next to him, pausing with a fork full of eggs half way to her mouth, "That's the truth. For someone so gifted at intelligence gathering, he could bring down the house with his snoring"

Rabastan raised an eyebrow at her, "And you would know this how?"

She rolled her eyes stuffing the food into her mouth, chewing and swallowing before she answered, "Antonin was barely alive when he first arrived at the Manor. I spent the better part of the first month sleeping in his room, making sure he made it through the night. The healthier he was, the less sleep I got"

Rabastan and Erik shared an amused look, bursting into laughter as Hermione frowned at them from around another bite of her breakfast, "What?"

"So, you say Antonin keeps you up at night?" teased Erik. Hermione's cheeks burned bright red, and she squeaked in protest.

"That's not what I meant!" she exclaimed, and the two men laughed again. Groaning, she threw her fork on the table, crossing her arms, muttering "Incorrigible"

Rabastan backed down first, glancing over at the blonde, "So, where do our travels take us today?"

Erik smiled again, a broad expression that took up his whole face, "We are travelling to Lillehammer. It's about 2 ½ hours north of here. It's where the first orphanage is"

"Lillehammer?" queried Hermione, her tone one that Rabastan identified with her perpetually enthusiastic academic tendencies. Erik nodded, tilting his head to one side.

"Yes. We'll be staying in the town tonight, and then tomorrow we'll head north to Bergen," he replied, leaving out the understanding that they'd only continue on if it was necessary. Hermione fidgeted in her seat.

"What is it you want to see in Lillehammer?" asked Rabastan, smiling briefly at the waitress that placed a cup of coffee in front of him. Hermione graced him with a slightly embarrassed look.

"Is it that obvious?" she asked, shoulders drooping. He shrugged and smiled back at her.

"Only to people who know you," he answered, pausing briefly in his reach for the milk as her eyebrows shot up. A small smile played around her lips and she pushed the craft towards him with her fingertips as she took another sip of her own coffee.

"I suppose we have spent a fair amount of time together," she conceded. He blinked at her, milk hovering over his own cup as he tipped his head to the side, absorbing his own words. Unconsciously, his lips curved upwards and he nodded shortly at her.

"More time that I would have expected," he answered. Hermione ducked her head down, glancing at her half emptied plate, and Rabastan actively avoided looking at her or their other guest.

"Well?" came the voice to his left, "What was it you wanted to see?"

She fidgeted in her seat again before sighing, "I'd heard about petroglyphs on the cliffs above a bridge near Lillehammer"

He nodded, leaning back in his seat as he stroked his beard, "Yes. The rock carvings in Drotten. Unfortunately, it's a bit out of the way for us"

She sighed again, shoulders slumping, "I see"

"I'm sorry, Hermione. If I could make it happen, I would. But we're on a tight schedule," he replied, remorse in his voice. She nodded, small smile on her lips.

"I know, Erik, I understand. I'll just have to come back sometime when I can actually visit," she answered. Rabastan felt his spine stiffen, the unspoken understanding that it might be years before she'd have a chance to leave her charges in England again settling over the group. Erik reached across the table, patting her arm encouragingly.

"And when you do, I'll take you all over this beautiful country to show you every last bit of it," he answered, voice warm and gentle. She smile brightly back at him.

"I look forward to it"

Erik chattered on enthusiastically about Norway and it's history as they finished their breakfast, Antonin finally joining them in time to shovel some bread and cheese down his throat before they took off once more. The sun was bright, but already the fine changes of shortening days showed in the quickly shifting shadows as they loaded into the car and headed north.

Beautiful vistas full of sprawling hills, and farmland, dotted with trees and broken up with bustling towns and small cities followed them on their path, enticing romantic sighs from the passenger seat up front. Erik continued to entertain them with stories of the surrounding counties and incidences of accidental magic that had popped up over the years. As the journey wore on, they found themselves traveling next to a large body of water – identified as lake Mjosa – that was as wide as the eye could see.

"This was one of the areas heavily populated by Trolls before the accords we reached," reported Erik, and Hermione sat up in her seat, peering interestedly out the window.

"Do they commonly live by bodies of water?"

Erik nodded, "They seem to favor it, for reasons unidentified. Trolls are a largely secretive group, and they don't particularly like to be studied. Still mostly feral and excellent trackers, more than one anthropologist has been sent back barely breathing"

Hermione hummed, falling back into her seat once more as they continued on their drive. As the morning turned into afternoon, they entered a large town, which the blonde introduced as Lillehammer. After a short drive further, they pulled into the parking lot of a modest hotel, and exited the vehicle.

"We'll check in first," explained Erik, "And then go to the orphanage. It's just a short walk from here"

As had been the way in the previous hotel, Rabastan was set up in a room with Antonin and Hermione given her own lodging. Stepping back out onto the street, he bounced briefly on his toes, nervousness coursing more steadily through him now.

"Anxious?" asked the soft voice at his shoulder and he looked down into furrowed chestnut eyes.

"Aren't you?" he questioned and she bobbed her head affirmatively.

"It seems so...climactic and yet not. What if this is the child? And what if this child is Roddy's?" she asked, voicing the thoughts buzzing in his own head.

"What if it is the child but it's NOT Roddy?" he returned, airing the one question they'd been avoiding. He felt her shift, and shrug.

"I'm not sure what that means," she confessed and he nodded back.

"I don't either"

"Ready?" came the boisterous voice from behind them, and they both jumped, bumping into each other in surprise. Rabastan grabbed her elbow reflexively as she lost her balance, steadying her as they glared at their amused escort.

"Yes," answered Hermione, nodding sharply, "Of course"

Antonin slipped in next to Hermione as they followed the blonde down the street, leaning his shoulder subtly against her in a show of support. She ignored him, though Rabastan could see her sway against him minutely as they closed in on a large, institutional appearing building. It was tall, with white walls, and a gabled roof. There were windows dotting the walls, small faces pressed against them to observe the strangers visiting for once. Pausing outside, Erik turned back to them, "They know we're coming, but not exactly who you are. I will explain the situation, and they'll bring the child to us. I suspect he won't speak much English"

He lead them through the doors into a utilitarian lobby, adorned with a few leather backed chairs and a small desk in front. The Brits lingered, milling around the room as Erik spoke with the woman who greeted them. After a short, hushed conversation, she disappeared through a side door, leaving the companions alone once more.

"She's bringing the head of the program, and the child. They want him to have an advocate present," explained Erik, and Hermione and Rabastan nodded.

"Of course. It's only safe for him," she replied. Erik nodded, turning to look at a tapestry lining the wall behind the desk.

Rabastan found himself migrating back towards the witch, staring blankly at the same map she was staring at, his skin itching under his coat. Next to him, he felt her fidget with him, shifting from foot to foot, pretending to focus on anything other than who was coming out of the door next. He flexed his fingers and straightened them again, bouncing up on his toes before rocking back on his heels.

The feeling of fingers sliding down the palm of his left hand shocked him into stillness, and he looked down, watching entranced as she laced her digits with his own. He blinked, before looking back up into her face, comforting smile on tightened lips. She squeezed his hand with her own, and he looked back down at their joined grasp, sucking in a sharp breath. It had been years since anyone had held his hand, years and lifetimes since they'd done so in an effort to calm him. He couldn't recall the last person who'd held his hand for simple solidarity. Rodolphus perhaps? His mother? A friend?

Closing his eyes, he willed the memory to come to the surface, but it evaded him, slippery as an eel around the edges of his mind. Letting out a slow breath to relieve his frustration, he allowed his own fingers to tighten for the length of a heartbeat around hers before releasing them again.

The sound of the door opening again hit him like a hammer, and he disentangled himself urgently as his eyes flew back open. Entering the room was a tall, brunette with cool blue eyes and a commanding bearing who stared at them as if they were prey and she the eagle deciding which to pick off first. He took a step to the side, slightly behind Hermione as if offering her for first pickings. The small witch huffed at him, clearly aware of his intentions before drawing her own self up tall and reaching out a hand.

"Hermione Granger," she announced, stepping forward to meet the woman, "Thank you for meeting with us today"

The handshake was as brisk and utilitarian as everything else in the institution, with a returned "Freyja Gundersen. Thank you for making the journey"

"I understand Erik has explained the situation?" pressed Hermione, and the woman nodded briskly.

"He has. The child is young, and he speaks limited English. Based on description I am not convinced he is who you are looking for, but I suppose it is only fair to meet him," she replied.

"Please, we'd like to meet him," implored Rabastan. The matron looked at him sharply and nodded, turning back to the door she'd just gone through. At a minute gesture, a young boy walked through, staring wide eyed at the adults in front of him.

Rabastan could feel Hermione let out a breath, even as his own shoulders deflated. Dark blonde curls, light blue eyes and distinctly Scandanavian features gave away that he was not the child from the picture. He held his hands together nervously in front of his waist, linking his fingers and rocking back and forth.

Hermione broke rank first, stepping forward and kneeling in front of the boy. Smiling gently, she brushed his hair back from his forehead, "Hello there, it's nice to meet you"

A smile broke out along the boy's face and he flung his arms around her neck, nuzzling his nose into the crook as he babbled against her skin. She froze for a moment, before curling her arms around him, lifting him up into her embrace as she walked away from the other adults. Her eyes met Rabastan's, a pleading expression as she carried the child into a vacant corner.

The younger brother watched her disentangle the child's hands from her hair, talking to him animatedly before he turned back to the head matron, shaking his head, "I'm so sorry"

She nodded succinctly at him, "It's alright. I'd suspected as much. He's a magical child, but we believe his roots are from a local family that died some years ago. Never knew what happened to them, but they found the boy in a crib on his own"

Rabastan turned back to Hermione, now joined by Antonin, as they interacted with the child. Antonin's expression carried a softness he'd never attributed to the Russian before, and his movements were gentle, subtle, easy around the child. The boy reached up to tug on the older man's beard, and he watched in surprise as he laughed at the action.

Hermione caught his eye again and he nodded at her affirmatively. She sighed and nodded back, appreciation in her eyes as she carried the boy back over to the matron. Gently she deposited the boy into the other woman's arms, before ruffling his hair once more. Crestfallen, the child frowned, but wrapped his arms around the matron's neck, resting his head on her shoulder.

"It's not you, darling," cooed Hermione, "I'll try to come back and visit you again"

Rabastan reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing as he steered her back and away, "Thank you Ms. Gundersen for your help"

"Of course. And good luck in your travels"

Stepping out into the street again, Hermione's shoulders sagged and she leaned against the wall outside the door for a moment, "That was awful"

Rabastan nodded in agreement, shoving his hands into his pockets, "It was"

Taking in a shaky breath, she looked up, unshed tears glistening at the corners of her eyes, "I don't know how many times I can do that"

He reached over, grabbing her elbow and tugging her towards him, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as he tugged her against his side, rubbing her back with his free hand, "Hopefully we'll find him at the next stop"

She nodded against his shoulder, "Hopefully"

Antonin cleared his voice behind them, "I think now is a good time for a drink, don't you?"