This work is complete at 31 chapters and ~127,000 words. I'll be submitting a chapter a day through March until it's all up.
Chapter 23: Shut Out
Draco woke up when it was still dark out. Heimdall moved around on the bed trying to find a good place to sleep between Draco and Dagmar. Draco watched Heimdall settle, then idly pet him as he closed his eyes again.
Mingled longing and bliss squeezed Draco's chest, much like it had when he visited Bergen the day before. His eyes cracked open again. The warm night outside was tempered by the cool breeze passing through Draco's open windows, and everything outside had gone quiet. Heimdall purred contentedly. Dagmar breathed quietly and rhythmically in sleep beside Draco.
The moon had come out enough that he could see her face in the dark. All the concerns she'd carried throughout the day had vanished for now, leaving her in a natural state of being. She really was so beautiful, and it killed Draco in hindsight to have seen her troubled about anything at all.
He still couldn't quite get over how lucky he'd become this summer. If his parents hadn't arranged for Draco to be with Dagmar, or if Dagmar hadn't accepted it, Draco hardly cared to think about who he would have been today. He didn't think he could give Dagmar full credit for him finding some slice of satisfaction in his life, but she certainly had a lot to do with it. It wasn't as simple as Draco ditching Pansy for someone a little more capable of happiness.
Maybe that was true if Draco thought about them symbolically. He knew he was miserable with his life at some level before. Dagmar happened to be a good chance to start fresh in some regards. She made Draco feel like himself.
Draco fell back asleep with his hand slipped into Dagmar's, which lay curled up close to Draco's pillow. He couldn't be entirely sure about how much time had passed when he woke up again, although dawn had touched the horizon. Dagmar breathed heavily through her nose, her expression set into a grimace. She trembled, and it was then Draco realized that the hand he'd taken to hold in the night was clamped onto his. Draco had to use his other one to pry himself free.
"Hey," he whispered, shaking her shoulder.
When he did it hard enough, Dagmar drew in a long, shaky breath. Her eyes opened briefly, unfocused, before she turned her face more into her pillow. While her exhales remained heavy, her face had smoothed back out into something resembling calmness and she no longer shook. Once Draco felt confident the nightmare had passed, he dropped back off again too.
The room was bathed in sunshine when Draco next roused. He kept his eyelids shut against it to avoid being blinded, and it became clear to him quite quickly that he wasn't the only one awake. Heimdall purred further up the bed now than where he'd slept somewhere around the centre, and Draco's bed jostled slightly as Dagmar silently chuckled.
Draco cracked his eyes. Dagmar sat up against the headboard with her pillow squished in behind her. She had her knees up with a book laid open across her thighs. Heimdall laid across her stomach, his front legs stretched out toward Draco and massive paws dangling limp. He made a noise in his throat when Draco poked one.
"Good morning," Dagmar said to him.
Her grin, gravelly voice, and messy hair invoked a strong flutter in Draco's stomach—certainly one of the best ways to start his day. Drawn in, Draco moved up closer to her under the covers. He rested his face in the dip of her waist. Dagmar ran her fingers through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp.
"Se på guttene mine," she said.
Draco didn't know what it meant (although he recognized 'gutt' now), but since Heimdall made a contented noise, it had to be good.
Dagmar nudged Draco with her hip. "How'd you sleep?"
"Pretty good, considering," he replied. "I'm used to sleeping alone, so it was an adjustment to have someone else here. And the cat too. He woke me up when he was trying to get settled."
"Aw, too bad," Dagmar said. "Although I guess if he only woke you up once on his first night here, that's not bad. He didn't bother me at all. I guess I'm still used to having an animal on the bed."
Draco nodded, rolling more onto his back so that he could look up at Dagmar. "You didn't wake up at all last night?"
"Not that I'm aware of. Why?"
A ghost of the grimace she'd worn in sleep overcame Dagmar again.
"I thought I managed not to have a nightmare," she said. "Usually it either wakes me up or the sheets are soaked with sweat. Neither happened, so. . ."
"You get them often?" As soon as Draco said that, he figured out the answer for himself. Pansy had complained more than once that Dagmar slept rough.
"Almost nightly." Dagmar shrugged. "You'd think I'd be used to them by now. I've had them for as long as I could remember."
"What happens in them?"
"Mm. . ." Dagmar pushed her lips to one side. "Nothing really, that's the weird thing. It happens in two parts. I'm in a house, it's night, and I wake up to a noise in the next room. I go to check it out. Once I get to the hallway, I start to feel this dread. The door is ajar, but the room's quiet now. I push the door open. Someone's standing there, but I can't tell who. I've never seen his face."
Draco idly scratched Dagmar's closest calf. "You can tell it's a man?"
"Couldn't tell you how," Dagmar replied. "It drives me crazy because there's nothing about it that I can even figure out. I've never been to that place before. I've never heard the sound that's coming through the wall. I have no idea who's there. I used to think maybe I was seeing someone else's thoughts so I learned Occlumency, but it didn't help much. So at this point I've just accepted them. They don't bother me when I'm awake because I don't know what they mean. Waking up can be rough since they physically affect me."
"I think I've noticed," Draco said. "There were mornings at school I'd see you and wonder if maybe you were ill."
"I find it hard to believe Pansy never mentioned them to you."
"Well. . ." Draco leaned up on his elbow. "Yeah, she told me."
"She's never made them any easier." Dagmar tossed the book she read down to the end of the bed. Since she shifted, Heimdall preemptively moved. He jumped up onto the window ledge while Dagmar laid down beside Draco. "She's always been quite keen to embarrass me, actually."
"Yeah."
"I'm sure she would find it funny to tell you what she thought might fix it." Dagmar scoffed.
"I never believed you were having something like sex dreams, if it makes you feel any better." Draco laid his arm across her waist. "Never thought it was funny, either."
Dagmar shrugged. "I wouldn't have blamed you if you did. Pansy always got an easy laugh out of Millicent and Daphne for it, so why not her boyfriend too? It's not like you would've known any different since you never dealt with it."
"I guess." Draco toyed with her plait. It had gone fuzzy overnight.
She smiled and ran a thumb over Draco's cheek before leaning in for a kiss. Dagmar sighed afterward as she studied him. "I didn't even think that I might wake you up with it. I'm sorry."
"Don't be. You can't help it."
"That doesn't matter if I'm interrupting your sleep."
"Not really," Draco said. "I don't think I was awake for two minutes."
"It will probably get old."
"I really don't care," Draco told her. "It sucks you have them, but if all it takes for them to not be so bad is me giving you a little shake, then so be it. I wouldn't let something like that stop you from staying again tonight, or any other night for that matter. I like you here. I want you here."
Dagmar stroked his cheek again. "Okay. But you would tell me if it gets out of hand?"
"Maybe, maybe not. Depends if you'd take that as your cue to leave."
Dagmar shrugged.
"It'd be from a place of concern, not annoyance," Draco clarified.
He'd been awake much longer in the night when he'd woken up because of Heimdall. Dagmar being only a quill-stroke away while she was in Nice was a great way to feel like she was always close, but it didn't compare to her actual company. Now that she was here, Draco didn't really know how to let her go. In a little over two weeks he would have to, but what about the meantime? It was almost a shame that they had to go through a year of school before they could wake up like this every morning.
"I guess if the tables were turned. . ." Dagmar said, "I wouldn't mind either."
"There you go," Draco replied. "Unless you'd rather sleep at home and you're trying to spare my pride?"
"Nei, no way." Dagmar ran a hand back over his shoulder. "I hope that's not what I'm making you think. It's just rather embarrassing when that happens, and for six years at school I've kept Pansy, Millicent, and Daphne awake by it. It's hard not to feel bad about it when they make me feel bad."
"Right."
Draco supposed that was the effect bullying had. He wondered how many of his victims packed around neuroses like that, about things they couldn't help. At least he'd never contributed to Dagmar's.
The day started to warm up and Draco couldn't put off having to pee any longer. Despite the pressing nature of it, it was hard to get out of the bed. As he suspected when he poked his head out of closet, Dagmar had gotten up and dressed. Draco figured he might as well do the same.
They didn't have much for plans. The book Dagmar had been reading was Draco's copy of one of their school texts. She hadn't studied at all while in Nice, which surprised Draco. It didn't shock him either that she was starting to panic now.
"No regrets on how I spent this summer, but I could've cracked a book once," Dagmar said as she laid across Draco's freshly made bed, Confronting Darkness: Beyond Theory open in front of her. "I always feel like I trip coming out of the gate when we get back, but I think it's going to be worse than ever this year."
Draco scoffed. "You feel like you start rough?"
"You've been studying already this summer. You had the whole time I was gone to Nice."
"You know as well as I do that my school books hadn't been opened until today."
The brand new textbooks creaked whenever Dagmar handled them. Unlike the Quidditch books Draco had bought, which now laid open on their own due to being well-broken in, his textbooks didn't have a single wrinkle at the spine.
Dagmar grinned at his candour. "Weren't you concerned about your Herbology and Charms marks, though?"
Draco pressed his lips together. He was, but he'd thought it could wait until September to start applying himself. This summer had been a very welcome break from Hogwarts and from life in general.
"I'm not sure how to get any better at Herbology outside of the classroom," Draco said. "As for Charms, well, I haven't had anybody to practice with."
"That'll change in only a few days." Dagmar lit up. "I wouldn't mind practicing with you. I could stand to get myself back up to snuff after not being able to do magic since we came home."
"You did anyway, though," Draco pointed out.
As soon as he did, he wished he hadn't. Dagmar's expression slipped at the reminder. It occurred to Draco she'd never mentioned getting into trouble by it, but he didn't want to press her for details on the whole thing. It could be that the French weren't as concerned about underage magic as the British. Dagmar couldn't have gotten into trouble anyway because she'd only acted in self-defence.
Wishing to change the subject, Draco grabbed his copy of Applications of Herbology from the pristine stack sitting on his desk. He sat down next to Dagmar on the edge of the bed.
"I guess reading ahead will at least help me when it comes to writing essays," he said. "I'm sure Professor Sprout will have no shortage of those up her sleeve this year."
"Do any of the professors?"
She meant it in jest, but Draco had a feeling as the morning turned to afternoon that he'd said something wrong. Dagmar didn't seem mad at him, just quiet and distracted while she read. Maybe Draco was reading too much into it. This was probably just how she studied. Regardless, after they'd taken a late lunch, Draco suggested they break away from the books as well and enjoy the nicest part of the day out in the garden.
Draco hadn't even heard his parents come home last night, now that he thought about it. Since his mother sat out in the garden with a book of her own, they must have just returned late. Feeling awkward, Draco let his hand slip from where he'd rested it on Dagmar's lower back. However much he cared for her, and no matter that their parents had seen them as a good match before Draco and Dagmar had the faintest clue, he was still shy about showing any affection in front of them.
"Hello," his mother greeted them, a little more regally than usual since company was present. "Dagmar, I didn't hear you come in."
Patches of colour dim enough for just Draco to notice rose in Dagmar's cheeks. She just smiled.
"How did you enjoy Nice?" Draco's mother asked.
"It was quite pleasant," Dagmar replied. "I'm glad we were able to go after all."
"Of course."
With that, his mother let Draco and Dagmar carry on. They headed deeper into the gardens, where Draco thought they might have enough privacy from prying eyes or ears. Yet again, something seemed to bother Dagmar. She furrowed her brow slightly and her lips worked together as she thought.
They took a seat on a bench in some hedge's shadows.
"All right?" Draco asked her.
"I wonder if she knows," Dagmar said.
"Knows about what?"
"What happened."
Dagmar idly rubbed her right forearm. Draco took a double-glance at her left wrist when he noticed some discolouration there. He took her hand and brought it closer to inspect. Although Dagmar initially resisted, she relented with a heavy exhale through her nose.
Draco put two-and-two together. "This is where that Muggle grabbed you?"
"Mhm."
"Bloody hell."
To see actual evidence of Dagmar being confronted hurt Draco. He'd probably been asleep in his bed when all this happened, absolutely none the wiser that someone he cared deeply about was in such a situation. He hadn't wanted to think about how alone and scared Dagmar might have felt in the moment, mostly because she was capable of taking care of herself. But, had Draco been there, this wouldn't have gone as far as it did. Dagmar wouldn't have had to defend herself.
"Don't worry about it too much," Dagmar told him. "It isn't as bad as it looks. I came out all right in the end."
"Yeah," Draco agreed. "Just. . .I don't know, I wish I was there."
Dagmar removed her wrist from Draco's light grasp so that she could slip her hand properly into his. She gave it a squeeze and managed a tight smile. "Really, don't worry about it. I got away just fine. It's over now, anyway."
Draco knew she was right, but it was easier said than done. He didn't like the lack of control he had over the situation, and what if Dagmar had come back worse than a little shaken up and with a bruise on her wrist? It bothered Draco enough to know she'd been scared. What if those Muggles had darker intentions for cornering a sixteen year old girl than just to goad her?
Footsteps sounded down the pathway Draco and Dagmar had arrived from. Draco leaned forward and looked to see who it was. His heart sunk when his father appeared.
"Ah, there you two are," his father addressed Draco and Dagmar. "Narcissa said you were somewhere out here. Could I have a word with you inside, Dagmar?"
Draco was halfway to pushing himself up when his father said Dagmar's name instead. He frowned, looking from his father to Dagmar, who didn't look confused as much as just plain unhappy. She glanced quickly at Draco before getting up and following Draco's father back where he'd initially come from. Their footsteps slowly faded away.
