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 26: Pure

The nap Dagmar took with Draco did most of the trick on taking care of her fatigue. By ten that evening, she was about ready to sleep again. She didn't expect to wake up in the wee hours of the morning. It was only slightly past three.

In the interest of not waking up Draco, Dagmar took her time in carefully extracting herself from his grip. It was mildly infuriating that when she had to pee so badly he readjusted as Dagmar was just about free. She thought it sweet too that even in sleep Draco just wouldn't let go.

"All right?" he sleepily asked.

"Just need to use the toilet."

"Mm."

He rolled over to face the other way, leaving Dagmar to do what she needed. When she came back out of the bathroom, the only audible sound was Draco's even breathing. As Dagmar headed back toward the bed, light caught her eye. It came in from underneath her door.

Dagmar furrowed her brow. Why, at three o'clock in the morning when the manor was otherwise silent, would there be any need for it?

She crept to the door and carefully opened it. The sconces down in the great room were lit. Dagmar stood still, holding her breath in attempt to hear anything at all.

Dagmar closed the door behind her and crept over to the railing that looked down to the great room. The sconces were lit, yes, but nobody was around.

Just as Dagmar tensed her body intent to push off from the railing, a door opened downstairs. The faint whisper of voices followed briefly out of the drawing room. The Silencing Charm cast over it went back into effect once whoever had exited shut the door. A single set of footsteps carried toward the great room. It didn't surprise Dagmar at all to see someone in a black robe, although it annoyed her. After all the bollocks her family went through this summer because of the Dark Lord, they were still conducting Death Eater business here?

The Death Eater stopped shy of the fireplace. Dagmar herself had lingered for too long. She turned to return to her room and froze, ice overtaking her veins and stealing the breath out of her when she came face to face with the very same robed figure.

A giggle, shrill yet quiet, came from underneath the hood. "What're you doing out of bed, child?"

The small of Dagmar's back pressed against the railing in her attempt to retreat as Bellatrix stepped forward. Dagmar only wished she could mistake those eyes glinting in the dim light.

They vanished with a sound like the swish of a cloak. Dagmar blinked, then started when Bellatrix's voice carried up again from down below.

"Ta ta," she bid Dagmar in the same teasing tone. She took some floo powder off the mantle and disappeared in an emerald flash.

The manor fell eerily quiet again. Before someone else could emerge or otherwise notice Dagmar, she headed back to her room. Draco hadn't budged at all in her absence, as if the entire thing hadn't even happened. After laying back down and beginning to drift off, Dagmar wondered if it even had.

She didn't feel any more sure about it when she woke up. It was particularly hard to be disturbed about what may or may not have been real when Draco was in such a cuddly mood. Dagmar certainly couldn't feel vulnerable about anything beyond this bed while wrapped up in his arms with her cheek against his chest.

"I think I'm caught up in sleep," Draco said. "I didn't wake up at all."

"Nei?"

Dagmar had thought otherwise, but that was good then. Maybe she hadn't actually run into Draco's aunt. They'd been talking about her yesterday after all, and it only made sense that she remain in Dagmar's subconscious. As well, Dagmar had never actually met Bellatrix before. The closest she'd come was seeing her face in the Wanted posters around Hogsmeade after her escape from Azkaban. What were the chances that Dagmar run into her in the middle of the night in her own home?

"You?" Draco replied.

"To nip into the toilet once, but that was it."

Draco nodded, but it didn't seem to spark any memory in him of momentarily rousing to ask what she was up to. Comforted, Dagmar resettled against him and lightly scratched his back. She was still mad at her parents from the dream for conducting Death Eater business in their manor—or at least inviting Bellatrix Lestrange here. That part of her subconscious probably just tapped into Dagmar's lingering anger for how things had gone this summer, and how absolutely none of it would've happened at all if they hadn't tangled themselves up with some dark wizard's attempt at a power-grab.

"Hey." Dagmar lifted her head again. "What would you think about going back to your manor?"

"By myself, or. . ?"

Dagmar nudged him in response to his smirk. "I don't really want to be here. It hasn't felt like home at all this summer."

"No?"

Dagmar shook her head. "The raid made my parents being Death Eaters real, you know? I could sort of deny it before because I didn't know how seriously they took it. They conduct business here, though. The Dark Lord was literally in my home for him to have been spotted by those Ministry officials. When we came home after the Ministry finished their sweep, my mum didn't even hardly care. Did I tell you that? I'm watching her pick up the pieces of our lives, and she acted like the consequences of what they do for him meant nothing. And then there was everything that happened in Paris with the French Ministry. My dad, a Death Eater, sitting in the same room as the Auror department head. All Marigot had to do was ask to see his forearm to check for the mark. You and I only had to slip up in our messengers—which, by the way, I've yet had chance to mention, Marigot read everything."

Draco's eyes widened.

"It's just brought me uncomfortably close to their business," Dagmar said. "For that, I'm looking forward to getting back to school. In the meantime, I could at least get out of this manor if it's an option."

"It is." Draco rubbed her arm. "You're always welcome at my place."

"I would normally hate to invite myself over. . ." Dagmar paused to kiss him, "but I think you can see I've had about enough. It's taken a toll on me."

Draco nodded. "Backing up a bit, what happened with the messengers? I thought messages deleted forever when we struck them out."

"I thought so too." Dagmar rolled onto her back. "She tapped it with her wand and they were all there. The salesman never mentioned that as a feature."

"They're not so handy for secret-keeping then, are they?" Draco ran his fingers back through his hair. "That is lucky that we didn't mention anything about what our parents do."

"I meant to bring that up, that we should keep it that way," Dagmar said. "If we ever have to talk about that, we ought to do it in-person. Hopefully we won't have too much to say once we're back at Hogwarts. I hope we won't, anyway."

"Maybe about Crabbe and Goyle." Draco's gaze slid back to Dagmar. "I'm still not sure what to think about that."

"Me neither." Dagmar toyed with the end of her plait. "It won't affect me as much as it might affect you, though. I wasn't mates with them."

"It's weird." Draco furrowed his brow. "I wouldn't say I was close to them on a personal level. We just hung out as. . ."

"Cohorts?" Dagmar suggested with a new nudge. Her smile faded when a weird look came over Draco. "What?"

"Ah, nothing," he said, but then seemed to rethink it. "Just something my mum said day before yesterday. I asked her about Aunt Bella, what she was like growing up to try and get an idea of where your head was at. She said Aunt Bella didn't really have friends. She had cohorts, and all of them wound up Death Eaters."

Up until this summer, Dagmar would've said that Draco was well on his way to following his aunt's footsteps. Draco wouldn't have those cohorts anymore. Or. . .

"So what're you going to do then, about Crabbe and Goyle?" Dagmar asked. "My mum asked me if I ever affiliated with them at school, then suggested I don't. Your father did the same?"

Draco nodded. "Yeah, I guess it won't matter now. I can't imagine Crabbe and Goyle are feeling particularly warm about joining the Death Eaters if the Dark Lord has their fathers on the run. I don't even think the Dark Lord would let them join anyway now. And if I don't intend to, then there's no point doing what my father suggested."

"Except that if they're considered enemies of the Dark Lord and you've been warned not to affiliate with them, then it's pretty clear where you stand on things if you do."

Draco bunched his lips to one side, humming in thought. "I guess it all depends on how closely you want to toe that line."

"I'd rather stay as far away from it as we can, but if it means you lose a couple good mates, then we'd just have to figure it out."

"We'll see what happens. We're going to have to be careful this year. We're both going to be of-age, and I have no doubt that for me personally Potter's going to think I'm coming back in September with the dark mark."

Dagmar snorted, even though it certainly wasn't funny. Potter had every right to be paranoid, considering the amount of times he'd faced the Dark Lord. As uncomfortably close to the Dark Lord as Dagmar was, she herself had never actually laid eyes on him or crossed his path. She didn't discount the idea she may have been in the same building as him, although she couldn't be completely certain.

"Oh well," Dagmar said. "I'm sure Potter will think that. It's not like he's right, or that you have anything up your sleeve—"

"Other than stomping his arse at Quidditch."

Dagmar ran an affectionate thumb over Draco's cheek, laughing again. "Do not tell me you're going to use his paranoia to your advantage."

"Why not?" Draco shrugged.

"That's so slimey."

"All's fair on the field."

All Dagmar could do was shake her head and roll her eyes. Some habits died harder than others, she supposed. When she leaned in to kiss him, she pushed his jaw to the side so that she got his cheek instead.

"Let's get going," she told him. "If I'm heading straight from your place in the morning to the Ministry, is it all right if I use your shower?"

"Go right ahead."

That meant Dagmar had more to get together than just the essentials for tomorrow. Draco dressed while she grabbed a bag and some clothes out of her closet. Dagmar brought it all over to the end of the bed to pack away. When she covertly eyed Draco, it both endeared and amused her that his own gaze was so stuck to her exposed midriff that he didn't even notice her looking.

Dagmar headed to the bathroom next to pack up some toiletries. Draco had finished dressing by then, so he sat on the bed beside her bag. Yet again, when Dagmar glanced at him, his gaze was fixed.

"What?" she asked.

Draco's head snapped up. "Huh?"

Face warm, Dagmar could only grin. She forgot her bag for the moment and moved to stand between his legs. Although now he maintained eye contact with her, Dagmar could tell it was difficult. She found it more flattering than uncomfortable at this point, which was the majority of reason why she was just as ready as Draco the night before to reestablish their relationship's boundaries. Dagmar liked to feel attractive to Draco. She wanted to see the effect she had on him rather than force him to suppress or hide it. At this point, now that she wasn't so new to the whole thing, Draco ought have the same freedom that Dagmar did. He'd certainly earned her trust toward it.

The sheepishness in Draco's expression to have been caught bled away as he ran his hands up over her hips. Dagmar encouraged him by mirroring the motion on his shoulders, grinning anew when he looked up. Rather than return it and join Dagmar in her playful mood, Draco remained rather serious. His gaze darted about, traveling over her again.

He met Dagmar's eye again when she laid her hands lightly on top of his. Draco perhaps couldn't tell what she meant by it, since it wasn't entirely restrictive or discouraging, and Dagmar didn't really know what she tried to convey either. She wanted him to touch her, but watching the neutral mask he'd worn thus far dissolve away and show a glimpse of desire was a little overwhelming. And yet, at the same time, she wanted to see it. She needed to. If she could know just how strongly it ran within Draco, Dagmar would have a gauge on how acceptable it was on her part.

Draco's touch stalled and his eyes widened as Dagmar climbed up onto the bed to straddle him. Being closer helped Dagmar feel less on display since Draco couldn't see as much of her now, but it served dual purpose in further disarming him. His expression, while soft, was critical. Dagmar balanced herself on his shoulders and leaned down. She stalled when their noses touched, pulling back when he tilted his jaw upward. Only when his eyes cracked open did Dagmar take his bottom lip between hers.

It drew a long exhale through Draco's nose, and his hands slid back down over her hips. His nails lightly ran over Dagmar's bare thighs, leaving gooseflesh in their wake.

Dagmar still didn't know what exactly her intention was. It lingered in the back of her mind as a hanging question. She didn't want to lead him on or to tease him. At the same time, she wanted Draco. Dagmar's body heated in waves as he kissed and touched her, lapping up against her core, and she was almost left uncomfortable by swelling and throbbing. She couldn't imagine it was any different for Draco. She'd glimpsed a bulge in his lap before for much less than this.

She stiffened a little when she settled on his thighs. Dagmar could feel him poking her. Draco exhaled again, hard and sudden enough that their kiss broke. He searched her, still uncertain.

Dagmar wet her lips. "You'll have to show me—"

She jumped at a noise behind her. Somehow, through all the arousal that fogged Dagmar's brain, she registered a knock at the door. That couldn't have really happened. Not now.

It did again. "Dagmar?"

It was her mum. Instantly irritated, Dagmar leapt up and gestured Draco toward the toilet. He skirted off. Dagmar had no idea how to hide that she'd been up to something, even if her mum didn't actually see Draco in her room. She was flushed, particular in the cheeks, and no matter how passive of an expression Dagmar assumed, she couldn't completely erase that she was flustered. Her shirt was at least dark enough to not make how hard her nipples were glaringly obvious.

"Coming," she said when her mum knocked again.

Despite Dagmar's attempts to act casual, tendrils of shame prodded at her as her mother's critical gaze took in her appearance. Her eyes narrowed, but she at least didn't say anything.

"I'm trying to figure out what the plan is for tomorrow," she said.

Dagmar blinked. "Tomorrow?"

"Your birthday."

"Oh. . ." Dagmar leaned against the door. "I didn't know you wanted to do anything. I planned on spending it with Draco."

Her mother frowned and crossed her arms. "Why wouldn't your father and I want to do anything with you?"

Dagmar shrugged. "Reckoned you'd still be mad about Nice."

Rather than address it, Dagmar's mother just waved a hand. "I was thinking about inviting the Malfoys over for dinner. We could eat out in the garden."

"Depends what Draco and I are doing," Dagmar replied. "I'm just heading to his place. He might have something in mind I don't know about yet."

"Oh, he isn't here?"

Regardless of whether or not Dagmar recovered before her embarrassment could show, her cheeks still glowed warm.

Her mum smiled, teasing. "I was your age once too, you know. You'll do what you want, but I hope you're more careful than I was."

If they weren't speaking Norwegian and Draco could understand—if he could even hear from the bathroom—Dagmar would've been ready to close the door on her mother.

"I'm not—" Dagmar started. "We're not."

"Okay, well, when you are, then."

"Is that really something you came up here to say?" Dagmar asked.

"Nei, but apparently it wouldn't hurt to at least make sure you're thinking about that." Her mum pushed her hair back over her shoulder. "Don't make me a grandmother at thirty-five, ja?"

"Don't worry," Dagmar replied. "If I'm going to get knocked up I'll wait until at least November so that I can have the baby after I'm done school. You'll have another birthday by then."

Her mum snorted, which made Dagmar smile.

"Send me an owl then once you and Draco make your plans," her mum said. "I'll work around whatever you two are doing."

Dagmar's agreement ended the conversation. She closed her bedroom door and took a deep breath in attempt to pivot back to where her head and body had been before her mum knocked. A dull ache set in at her core to have been so wound up with no fruition. Draco peered out of the toilet before emerging. Judging by the disappointed look on his face, he'd lost it too.

"What did she want?" he asked.

"Asking about tomorrow," Dagmar said as she zipped up her bag. "I said I'd talk to you and then send her an owl from your place."

Draco nodded. He lingered awkwardly beside Dagmar, mirroring exactly how she felt. If her mother hadn't interrupted them, Dagmar would've followed through on what she'd started. She had no idea how Draco looked so relaxed despite the irritation to have been interrupted during such an exhilarating moment.

Dagmar ran a hand down his arm. "Come on."

She hadn't thought about it, but whether or not she'd actually confirmed to her mum that Draco was here wouldn't matter if she spotted him and Dagmar leaving. Thankfully—maybe because her mum wanted to spare them any further potential embarrassment—the house came up empty between Dagmar's room and the fireplace. The same was so at Malfoy Manor before she dropped her night bag on the chair by Draco's desk. Draco closed his bedroom door and let Heimdall jump down onto the floor. He'd tolerated traveling by floo well enough for the short journey to leave his basket behind.

Dagmar laid down on Draco's bed. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, sure." He dropped down beside her.

"What do you use for birth control?"

"Natalise Potion." Draco carried on when Dagmar furrowed her brow: "You just take a few drops and then you're good for twenty-four hours."

"Where do you get it?"

"You can buy it in Diagon Alley." Draco leaned back against the headboard. "Madam Pomfrey gives it out for free too, no questions asked."

Dagmar snorted. "Probably preferable to delivering babies in the hospital wing."

"Yep."

"You take it, then?"

"Usually, but I haven't bothered since the beginning of summer." Draco shrugged half-heartedly, one end of his mouth pulling up toward a smirk. "Didn't think I'd need it for a good while."

"I didn't even think about it at all," Dagmar admitted. "I guess now that we're getting close. . ."

How close to it were they really, though? Even if Dagmar wanted it, that didn't mean she had any idea what she was doing. What if earlier her mother hadn't interrupted them and in the heat of the moment Dagmar decided to throw caution to the wind and Draco wound up inside her? How stupid would she feel when she'd been the one to stipulate they not have children and then by the end of summer she was pregnant?

"I'm starting to feel the gap in our experience again," she said. "And I'm sure you know how much I like to be ignorant about anything."

Draco chuckled. "You mean you haven't studied this to death?"

"Nope." Dagmar laid flat on her back. "Didn't know the test was coming so soon."

"You must at least be comfortable with your own body, yeah?"

"Mm. . ." Dagmar waved her hand in a so-so motion. "I mean, I know where everything is, but I haven't like. . .I guess I'm not very exploratory? I do what I have to basically just to get off. Nothing else really does it for me, or did it for me, when I was alone. I definitely underestimated what the smallest touch from someone else can do."

"It's like trying to tickle yourself."

"Ja," Dagmar agreed with a nod. "So when it comes to me, I don't even think I have the upper hand. You might know more than me about the female body just because you've had regular sex in the past."

"Experience is overrated if it isn't productive. I still remember what it was like to be where you are. It took months before I even realized girls can enjoy it. Even longer to discover the clit."

Unable to help herself, Dagmar giggled, cheeks warm. Draco's admission toward maybe not being the greatest lover drew her closer to his side.

Draco's smile faltered. "I feel bad, though. Looking back, Pansy didn't enjoy it then. She basically just tolerated it to make me happy."

"How old were you when you started, if you don't mind me asking?"

"The summer before fourth year," Draco replied. "So I guess I would've just turned fourteen."

"Oh, wow. I hadn't even accidentally given myself my first orgasm, yet."

Dagmar expected Draco to laugh, for she'd intended such a lame truth as a joke. If it wasn't funny, she didn't know what else it could be other than pitiful. Embarrassed, Dagmar lolled her head toward Draco to see what kind of reaction she'd incurred, and was somewhere between surprised and relieved that a fond smile had come over him.

"What?" Dagmar nudged his knee with hers.

"I've enjoyed watching you come into your own, is all," Draco said. "When my mum first told me about the change in arrangements, I didn't see you as a sexual person at all. I couldn't see us kissing. Didn't even think you'd ever touch me."

"Ja, I didn't have any experience at all until this summer." Dagmar rolled onto her side, facing Draco. "It's been a ride."

A thoughtful look overcame Draco. "It has been."

"What's on your mind?"

"It's been different for me too," Draco said after a moment. "I try really hard not to compare you and Pansy because you're both very different people, but I'm different with each of you too. I feel closer to you, and that changes things. It's like you said. I underestimated what someone else can do to me."

Considering what Draco did to Dagmar recently, it warmed her inside to know she had a similar effect on him. She pulled him down toward her. Their lips had hardly touched in the careful way she instigated when her blood rediscovered its earlier heaviness. Surely they couldn't be interrupted twice?

Dagmar couldn't really tell where Draco's head was with it. He didn't seem to be following her there, to the point where he pulled away as Dagmar touched his stomach.

"Er, full disclosure." Draco's cheeks tinged pink. "I had a wank while you were talking to your mum."

"Oh." Dagmar couldn't help but grin. Even if she was mildly disappointed that Draco had taken the matter literally into his own hands, it fed into her arousal. She couldn't blame him. If she'd had the opportunity, Dagmar would've done the exact same thing. "So what now, then?"

"It'll just take me a little longer to come back around, is all," Draco said.

"Do you think you will?"

"Yeah." Draco smirked. "Honestly, it might have been for the best. I'll be able to focus better. Take my time."

"I won't." Dagmar held his shoulder. "I don't think I could get more miserable if I tried."

"Then just relax. Let me take care of you."

Dagmar was wrong—she could get more miserable. Her body gave a hearty throb at the barest thought toward Draco's intentions. She couldn't even feel nervous as Draco pressed her down against the bed. Dagmar trusted him to know what he was doing, not that she would be hard to figure out at the moment.

Regardless, she tensed a little when his fingers slipped past the waistband of her shorts. Draco stopped, studying her.

Dagmar loosened the grip she'd taken of his shoulder. "Sorry. Didn't expect you just to go for it."

"I figured at this point—"

"Nei, you're right," Dagmar told him. She released the rest of the tension in her body with an exhale. "It's just new."

Dagmar grew antsy enough about Draco looking at her that she pulled him closer for a kiss. Neither of them were focused on it. Dagmar was tuned in tightly to Draco's fingers passing over her lower stomach, and he of course was searching blind other than what instinct and muscle memory provided. Dagmar had to keep herself in check against clutching his shoulder again. She didn't even know why she was nervous when she wanted it so badly and trusted completely that anything Draco did wouldn't hurt.

Draco passed the band on her knickers just as easily. Dagmar inhaled involuntarily through her nose when his finger slid purposefully over her clit. Were it not such a relief to finally be touched, she might feel embarrassed about just how wet all the attention and anticipation had made her. Dagmar was almost made numb by it, but the mere idea that Draco was the one to touch her rather than herself helped her body overcome that.

Her breathing got too ragged to keep on kissing Draco, even if she could focus on it in the first place. He moved instead to her neck. That always heightened Dagmar's senses anyway, but coupled with his hand between her legs, it spread gooseflesh over her torso and up her scalp. Dagmar's lips fell apart as she watched below.

She couldn't help but move with Draco's rhythm. Dagmar knew she wouldn't last much longer when, rather than matching him, he matched her. Her thighs tensed and though she tried to stay quiet just in case anyone happened to walk by Draco's room right now, a moan cut through her ragged breathing as endorphins flushed her body. She squeezed Draco's face out of where he'd wound up by her ear and pressed their lips back together as she rode it out.

Eventually, she trembled not out of pleasure but overstimulation. She brought her legs back together and then squeezed Draco's arm with a breathy chuckle when he didn't catch the hint. "Okay, I can't take anymore."

He took his hand back, grinning as Dagmar rolled onto her side to lay flush with him. Aside from looping a leg over his waist, Dagmar was too content to do anything else for the moment. She closed her eyes as Draco scratched her back.

"Well, that was lovely," she said when her senses came back a bit.

"You seemed to enjoy yourself."

"Mhm." While Dagmar recovered she hadn't thought, now there was two of them involved, she ought to consider reciprocating. Her touch trailed down Draco's abdomen, much the same way he'd done to her, but he wasn't shy about holding her eye like she was when the shoe was on the other foot.

His gaze softened when Dagmar rested her hand lightly on the freshest emergence of his arousal.

"You might have to show me what to do," Dagmar said. "I've never seen one, let alone touched one."

Draco chuckled. "They're pretty easy to figure out."

"Okay."

Feeling encouraged, plus having a hard time feeling nervous in the blissful wake of orgasm, Dagmar worked on his belt. She pushed on Draco's hip when it was undone, encouraging him to lay on his back. He moved as he needed to for her to push his pants and underwear down.

Dagmar's heart rate picked up from anticipation to see the last part of Draco's body that remained a mystery. The light hairs that trailed up to his bellybutton led to more, then Dagmar's eyes widened as the base of him appeared. Thanks to some over-sharing on her friends' part, she at least expected everything to spring free once Draco's pants were far enough down.

Well. . .everything was right there. Dagmar took for granted that her bits were all inside. She couldn't fully suppress a smile when she recalled something Ginny once said, about how some penises looked like they had a little sweater. She was right.

"It's usually either really good or really bad when a girl looks at you like that," Draco said.

Dagmar pulled her gaze away. She hadn't realized she was staring. "Just not really sure what I thought the big deal was, now I'm here."

Hopefully she hadn't made him self-conscious by it. He didn't make any motion to hide himself, although Dagmar understood if her analyzing stare left him uncertain. She laid back down beside him, intent to assuage any feelings like that with a return to tenderness. Draco relaxed a lot easier than Dagmar had, but she noticed the same level of distraction as she'd felt earlier when her touch roamed down his stomach. His shirt had ridden up, and now Dagmar wished he was fully undressed. For her it had seemed fine for Draco just to slip a hand in underneath her clothes, but it was a little different for him.

Dagmar ran her fingers lightly over him, trying to learn without looking. The skin was soft, somewhat loose and wrinkly in a good way. There was even a little wetness where the foreskin continued to hide the head. It only took a couple trying strokes for it to grow fully taut and the head to peek out. Draco swelled in her hand to the point Dagmar was sure she felt his heartbeat.

"Like that?" Dagmar asked. "Should I have a wetter hand, or. . .?"

"What's there is probably fine." Draco wet his lips. "You mostly just let the skin do the work."

Dagmar saw what he meant. It slid easily over everything else. She actually found it quite fascinating to watch. In the back of her mind she registered that Draco's breathing lengthened out and grew heavier, but Dagmar's focus only broke when Draco rested a hand on hers.

"All right?" she asked.

He nodded. "Just—er, more like this."

Dagmar squeezed slightly on her upstroke, and took care to run her palm more over the head. To be corrected didn't bother Dagmar. To the contrary, the shift in Draco pleased her. It was a nice change to not be the most vulnerable person in the room. Lost as he was in what Dagmar did, he relied on her to carry him through. Dagmar kept her kisses light, whenever their lips happened to meet.

A thought occurred to her. "What do I do when you cum? I don't want to make a mess."

"There probably won't be much after earlier." Draco remained distracted. "Just stop it with your hand."

"'Kay."

Dagmar was having a hard time deciding where to focus. She didn't feel confident enough in her ability to jerk Draco off to go on autopilot with it. Draco demanded her attention elsewhere though, between the blissful expression on his face and then inclination to keep snogging during. Probably because he'd wanked earlier, Dagmar noticed it definitely took longer now than she had. So long as it wasn't because she bored him, she didn't mind. Draco seemed to be enjoying himself, and eventually signs started to point toward the end. His kissing grew sloppy with distraction, his need to breathe kept them apart more than together, and his hips started to move beyond the rhythm Dagmar had set. She matched him, which made his mouth fall open as their foreheads rested against each other.

"Are you close?" Dagmar asked.

Draco nodded, but Dagmar felt comfortable gauging that without his confirmation. Pre-cum kept her hand slick, and it would have to hurt if he got any harder. With a groan, he moved his forehead to her shoulder instead, sending hot breath through the material of her shirt. Dagmar took the opportunity to focus on making his orgasm as good as hers had been. A couple pulses not entirely dissimilar to when Dagmar's pelvic floor contracted filled her palm with cum. She didn't want to stop since he was still enjoying himself, so she shrugged off the idea of a mess and just went with it.

One last heavy exhale led Draco to push her hand away. He'd started to go soft anyway, and with two orgasms down for the day she didn't think Draco could accept too much else from her. The rest of his body followed suit, going limp with relaxation.

Dagmar kissed his temple. "Would you be offended if I went and cleaned up?"

"Not at all," he managed in a dream-like tone.

Being careful not to let anything drip out of her hand, Dagmar scooted to the end of the bed and headed for Draco's bathroom. She looked at herself in the mirror while washing her hands. On this side of—well, Dagmar wasn't completely sure if this counted as sex, even though it was still a very intimate act—she didn't feel any different. Of course she'd enjoyed herself and she was still warm inside to have shared something so personal with Draco, but she didn't feel as though anything massive had shifted inside her—in particular, the concept of being a virgin. Ginny was of the opinion that it didn't even exist, and she made good points about it that Dagmar was too inexperienced at the time of the conversation to offer an opinion on.

There was no arguing that what she and Draco had just done was sexual. So then did it count as sex? Maybe it did. But then was Dagmar still a virgin until she and Draco had actual intercourse? For all the smaller acts they might perform up until that point, how would Dagmar ever honestly say, right before Draco entered her for the first time, that she was pure? What was pure, anyway?

Ginny was probably right. Sex was just a human experience like any other, certainly different by its elevated quality but no more than that at its core. It didn't change Dagmar's life any more than kissing Draco for the first time had, or realizing real feelings had developed for him, or deciding to give their arranged marriage an honest try at the beginning of summer. Being intimate with Draco didn't exist in a vacuum. It was the natural outcome of every other vulnerable moment, every patched disagreement, and deepening trust.

Draco's pants laid in a heap on the floor beside his bed, his shirt on top of them. He himself remained on top of the blankets still, his ankles crossed and fingers folded over his stomach. His head lolled toward her on the pillow. Dagmar giggled at how heavy his eyelids looked.

She sat down on the edge of the bed. "You look about ready to sleep again."

Draco stretched his legs. "I feel it."

Dagmar kissed his forehead before crawling back over him to her place. It wasn't a hard mood to catch after she'd been so wound up through the morning and then brought so sweetly back down to Earth. She crawled under the blankets, Draco happily following suit. An idea came to Dagmar.

"Roll over," she told Draco when he settled facing her. Although he furrowed his brow, he did as he was told. It was fresh in Dagmar's mind how secure and peaceful she felt when he held her like that during peak fatigue, and she wanted to share it. Draco started to relax into being spooned when Dagmar only interrupted nuzzling his upper back in order to pepper kisses along there and his shoulder. He rested a hand overtop the one Dagmar splayed on his chest.

"You're making it hard to stay awake," he told her.

"That's the point, min kjære."