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 27: Of Age
Draco's nap was short since he didn't actually need anymore sleep. It only helped him come back around from something that had sapped so much of his physical and emotional energy.
He kicked the blankets off, hot. Dagmar still napped beside him. She laid on her back, her stomach gently rising and falling with her breath. Draco had to resist touching her. He didn't want to wake her up prematurely.
Draco had a book on his bedside table he could read in the meantime. He could hardly make it through a single paragraph without breaking concentration to peer over at Dagmar again. Short curly hairs that had escaped her ponytail framed her face, and her lips were slightly parted. It always enchanted Draco just how peaceful she looked in sleep.
Her breaths grew longer. Draco prepared to wake her up if she was going into a nightmare, but she only stretched before sighing. The next time Draco looked at her, her eyes were cracked open. She returned his smile, eyes closing again when Draco pushed some of the little hairs off her face.
Her eyes snapped open. "I forgot to send an owl to my mum."
"Right." It slipped Draco's mind too. "Anything in particular you wanted to do tomorrow?"
Dagmar bunched her lips to one side, thinking. "Not sure. I'm definitely vacationed out and I need the last two weeks of summer to focus on studying."
"What about one night away?" Draco suggested. "We could go to Bergen."
"Hm." The temptation was clear. "I'd never say no to that."
Draco rested a hand on Dagmar's thigh. "All right. That's what we'll do, then."
Dagmar slipped off the bed to send Ulysses with a note to her mum. The afternoon was already advancing, and Draco once again started to feel the lack of food in his body. He normally adhered to a much stricter schedule than he had been lately. In a way, it was nice. Most of Draco's summer so far has revolved around something. He hadn't much chance to just lose track of time. When he first got home from school, he'd looked forward to that. Of course he'd never complain about how the last six weeks went, but lazing around studying with Dagmar and snacking on whatever the house elves came up with in the kitchen was an ideal way to spend the rest of the day.
Even though Dagmar had to be at the Ministry the next morning for nine o'clock to do her Apparation test, Draco stayed up with her intent for midnight.
"Do you feel when the Trace is lifted off you?" Dagmar asked.
"Not sure." Draco ran his fingertips lightly down her arm. "My birthday was on a Thursday, so I was asleep when midnight hit."
"Guess we'll find out."
The last fifteen minutes passed slowly since Draco and Dagmar kept a closer eye on the clock. When it struck twelve, Dagmar just shrugged. She waited five more minutes before daring to try a charm. Nothing prohibitory came of her Lighting Spell.
"Guess I'm officially of-age," she said. "Finally."
They went to sleep after that. Draco expected that he'd wake up along with her. He was alone in the bed, though. The familiar scent of Dagmar's shampoo wafted out of the open bathroom door, and she herself rustled on the other side of the room. Draco propped himself up on one elbow. She'd dressed as far as her bra and knickers, and was digging in her bag.
"Morning," he said.
Dagmar stood up straight and looked over her shoulder. "Sorry, did I wake you? I was trying not to."
"Not sure." Draco shrugged. "Doesn't matter. I was hoping to wish you luck before you left."
Getting to see her at a new level of undress was just a bonus. Draco did his best not to be too blatant as Dagmar brought her clothes for the day over to the bedside, but his gaze did wander a bit before she stooped to kiss him.
"I hopefully shouldn't need any luck," she said. "I'll just be glad to get it over with."
She headed back into the toilet to finish getting ready. When she emerged, her hair was no longer wet, her eyes stood out more with some make up, and she'd pulled on the yellow dress. Draco watched her again as she put on some sandals. It'd be nice if she could just come back to bed.
The clock moved past eight-thirty. Dagmar leaned over Draco to kiss his lips then forehead. "See you in a little while."
Draco had to suppress the urge to pull her down on top of him. He compromised with a run of his hand over her backside. "Yep."
Dagmar chuckled. "You're terrible."
She didn't move away though, lingering for more. Eventually she had to go, which disappointed Draco. Oh well. Once she got back, they would at least have the day and night to themselves in Bergen.
Draco wasn't entirely sure what they'd spend the day doing. He had half a mind the night before to suggest a fjord tour since they'd never gone last time, but they were an all-day, if not multi-day, trip. Draco was content just to relax and spend time together, even if he and Dagmar didn't venture any further than Trollmannsgaten.
He wasn't aware he dozed off until a loud crack startled him awake. Like a shot, Heimdall flew off the bed and skittered out onto the balcony.
Draco blinked at Dagmar, still processing.
"I passed," she said.
"Nice."
She smiled. "You don't look like you moved very far while I was gone."
Draco was certainly awake enough now to make a move. He headed into the bathroom to get ready for the day. After his shower, Dagmar laid on her back on the bed, her knees bridged. Between the curve of her mostly-exposed thighs and then the outline of her breasts at the top of her dress, Draco almost didn't notice Heimdall laid half over her stomach.
"I wonder if my mum would mind Heimr while we're gone," Dagmar mused.
"He can just stay here," Draco said. "If we put his basket outside I'm sure he wouldn't wander much further than the garden. He'd have a lot to entertain himself with. And eat."
Dagmar lolled her head toward Draco. "Would your parents mind?"
"I honestly don't even think they'd notice if we didn't tell them."
"Would you still? Just in case."
"Mhm."
Try as he might, Draco couldn't resist her any longer. He crawled onto the bed, earning a glance over of his own from Dagmar before she split into an amused grin about Heimdall making an indignant noise. He stretched and moved along.
"Even the cat knows," Dagmar said as Draco's hand came to rest in the smallest part of her waist.
Draco chuckled with her before leaning down for a kiss. Dagmar touched his cheek the way he liked it, gently stroking with her thumb. Draco hadn't really ever considered himself somebody that liked such a soft treatment, but he supposed growing comfortable with being vulnerable had something to do with it.
He sighed contentedly as he looked down at Dagmar. Her skin had darkened nicely this summer, bringing out her big blue eyes well enough without mascara and pencil. Freckles dotted her nose and cheeks, and her lips at rest stayed so kissable when Draco wasn't currently attached to them.
"Merlin, you gorgeous thing," he said.
If Dagmar wasn't already beautiful, that did it. Her eyes crinkled with a fresh grin and colour seeped in underneath her freckles.
She ran her fingers through his hair. "You're not so bad-looking yourself, you know."
"I'm glad you think so."
"Maybe you've noticed, maybe you haven't. . ." Dagmar's smile turned coy, "but I'm a lot better at sneaking glances than you are."
"Don't you think we're past that point?" Draco asked. "Sneaking glances?"
"Oh, probably." Dagmar chuckled. "You've moved beyond that, for sure."
Draco shrugged. "I can't really help it."
"I know."
"Does it bother you?"
"Nei. I love it, actually."
"Good thing, that." Draco rolled to lay on his side beside her. "I'd hate for us to get this far only for me to put you off."
"Not at this point." Dagmar shook her head, then nudged his shoulder. "You should be packing. If we don't get serious, we might wind up not leaving at all."
As hard as it was to pull himself away, Draco knew she was right. He was starting to crave a lot more than just being close to Dagmar and looking at her. He wanted to slide the bottom of her dress up further than it already was—or the top down, he really wasn't fussy. How worked up she'd been yesterday was still very fresh in Draco's memory. He had to force the thought out of his mind in order to not make the wait for next time anymore unbearable.
He grabbed his bag out of the bottom of the closet. Going away for one night wasn't much to pack for, especially since Draco didn't plan on taking anything to do. He and Dagmar were more than capable of entertaining each other for that length of time, and that was the purpose of their trip anyway.
On that thought, Draco glanced surreptitiously over his shoulder before rooting around at the top of his closet for one of the bottles of Natalise Potion he'd gotten off Madam Pomfrey for the summer. They'd sat forgotten up there ever since the day he learned he wouldn't be marrying Pansy anymore. He squeezed three drops onto his tongue. Draco had no idea when the mood might carry him and Dagmar toward sex that carried high risk of pregnancy, so he thought ahead on their behalf.
Draco put it into his bag, and then doubled back to his closet after stepping out. He grabbed the second bottle and held it out to Dagmar, who had made a move to get up now that Draco was ready. She sat on the edge of his bed, brow furrowing as she accepted it.
"You were asking about it yesterday," Draco said. "That's what Natalise Potion looks like. It just comes with a little dropper."
Dagmar opened and smelled it. "Is it tasteless too?"
"Yeah. It has a different texture than water, just as a heads up. It feels like it kinda coats your mouth, but it goes away in a few minutes."
"Do we both have to take it for it to be effective?"
"Not exactly." Now that Draco thought about it, he wasn't sure Pansy ever had. "The first time you ever go to Madam Pomfrey, she'll give you the whole spiel. 'It's less likely you'll both forget to take it', things like that."
"True." Dagmar filled the dropper. "How much do you take?"
"Three drops a day."
Dagmar stuck her tongue out to catch them. She pulled a face afterward at the coating sensation, running her tongue up against the roof of her mouth. "I guess you get used to it, ja?"
Draco slowly nodded. "Er—just to be clear, I wasn't implying you should take it just because I was giving you my extra bottle."
"Why not?" Dagmar stood up and headed over to her bag. She slipped the bottle into one of its pockets. "Whenever we're ready, I don't want something as stupid as not having protection stop us. It wouldn't be a bad habit to get into taking it, anyway."
"I suppose not. I need to get back into it."
Madam Pomfrey incorporated that into her spiel as well. There weren't any side effects and it was such a simple life choice compared to everything that came with accidental pregnancies. Draco had taken it to heart. He wanted to avoid fatherhood as much as he wanted to have sex.
A cursory search of the manor for Draco's parents came up short. He wrote them a short note to leave on the dining room table that Heimdall was outside in the garden and could probably fend for himself, but if they could please keep an eye on him it would be much appreciated. Not that Draco's parents knew, but Heimdall was the closest thing to a grandchild they would ever get.
Draco met back up with Dagmar in the great room. They headed first to Ramstad Manor so that Dagmar could better prepare for another night away. Draco noticed that she fell quiet when they arrived, her gaze skirting around a lot. Even up in her room, Dagmar kept her voice low if she and Draco spoke. She was quick to gather her things and then they were off again.
Through London they passed to Bergen. Draco took Dagmar's hand in Den Sultne Jotunn's backroom, his heart elevating to see her light back up. The change in her to be back here made Draco never want to leave.
At the registration desk, Sigrid was ever the professional. Draco knew exactly how it looked between when they'd been here a month ago and now. Draco didn't have it in him to be embarrassed about what a distant acquaintance thought they might be up to behind closed doors. Surely, they were far from the first couple Sigrid had watched flourish.
Draco and Dagmar dropped their bags off in their room, headed down to the lobby to exchange some of their galleons for romer, and stepped out into Trollmannsgaten. They hadn't gotten very far down the street when Dagmar made a noise like she'd remembered something.
"I was going to give you something when we were at my manor," she said. "I bought you a gift forever ago the first time we went to Nice and I never got around to giving it to you."
Draco looked Dagmar over, comparing who he saw now to who she had back then. It felt like ages ago for the distance they'd come.
"I probably wouldn't have accepted it, like the sunglasses." Draco smirked with amusement. "What was it?"
"Just a shirt." Dagmar shrugged. "I guess I liked buying you tacky gifts before I even had any inkling we'd wind up together."
Their afternoon in Trollmannsgaten felt a lot to Draco like their shopping day in Nice. He and Dagmar didn't explicitly agree to it, but Draco felt a form of competition to find the most tasteless gift they could possibly give each other. Draco was pretty certain he won, based on the shrunken troll head in a jar he presented to Dagmar outside the shop.
Dagmar wrinkled her nose, but looked fascinated. "Herregud."
"Very good?" Draco grinned, for he knew that wasn't even close to the English translation. Dagmar scoffed in confirmation of how far off he was.
"Is it real?" she asked. While Dagmar inspected the oddly swollen little head, it bounced against the insides of the jar.
"That's the mystery," Draco said. "The label had 'authentic' in quotation marks. I asked the shopkeeper, but he wouldn't tell me what that meant."
"Well, it's truly horrific." Dagmar slipped it into her bag. "I'll treasure it forever."
Her bag had grown heavy through the day since she carried Draco's things for him as well. He offered to take it when she started adjusting more for a developing sore shoulder. The two of them doubled back to the inn to drop it off before they walked to the funicular that would take them up Mount Fløyen for dinner. Because it was a Friday, the Muggle restaurant at the top was slammed. The Wizarding one wasn't so bad—mostly full with a couple empty tables. Draco would've liked one by a window, but after riding the packed funicular up the mountain and then navigating through the crowds at the top, he was happy just to be able to sit down.
"I want to treat you, since it's your birthday," Draco said.
Dagmar pursed her lips.
"It's your birthday," Draco repeated. "Special occasion."
Their waitress handed them their menus before heading off to fetch drinks.
"I was thinking about the reindeer steak," Dagmar hesitantly said. She looked up at Draco from the menu. "Is that okay?"
"Order what you would've if you were paying for yourself," Draco told her. Even though they'd agreed to go back and forth on this (not to mention he still didn't quite understand Dagmar's hang-ups on money), she still evidently needed some encouragement. Rather than concern himself with the entrees, Draco scanned the appetizers. "The hors d'oeuvres platter sounds like a good starter. Wanna share one with me?"
"Sure."
That they would both benefit from it seemed to ease Dagmar out of her concern. It probably didn't hurt that pickled herring was listed as one of the features.
Their waitress came back with Dagmar's coffee and the house-made berry soda that had caught Draco's eye. He'd never tasted lingonberries or cloudberries (as far as he knew), so he was curious.
Dagmar eyed the dark-red drink, carbonation lightly rising from the bottom of the glass and navigating the ice cubes. "How is that? I looked at it but I thought I needed a perk-up more than anything else at the moment."
"Try it." Draco slid the drink across the table to her. Dagmar took a little sip through the straw, and seemed to consider taking more before passing it back. "Have as much as you like. I can always order another one."
"Okay."
Draco reasoned that eventually Dagmar had to relax about sharing on his wallet. She at least started to, as far as staying at his place and eating food from his manor's kitchen. Draco would understand it more if she came from a non-wealthy family. For now he was willing to go along with it, since for the most part it didn't arise as an issue. Other than gifts, they were as close to square as they could reckon.
Sharing their dishes helped. The appetizers arrived, a platter filled with stuffed eggs, pickled herring, gravlax canapés, cubed brunost, and caviar blini. Draco found so long as he kept conversation up that Dagmar stopped doing mental math on only eating what she designated as her half. It helped too that when their entrees arrived, Draco asked to try her steak. Dagmar in-turn asked for a bite of his chicken fricassee. Their dessert was shared as well, a presentation similar to their appetizers. The platter featured lefse with a variety of different fillings.
By the end of it all, Draco hardly felt able to move. He rubbed his stomach while they drank their after-dinner coffee. Walking out of the restaurant and to the overlook was a slow affair. Draco leaned heavily against the fence, trying to will his stomach to digest faster.
Dagmar wrapped her arms around one of his and kissed his cheek. "Thank you for dinner. I really enjoyed it."
"I enjoyed it too much, I think." Draco smiled. "You're welcome."
The day had started to cool off with sunset less than an hour away. The cool breeze felt lovely against Draco's face after being mildly too warm ever since they'd arrived in Bergen. He started to feel warm again when he noticed the way Dagmar was looking at him, her gaze soft and smile adoring. Draco hadn't been standing very far away from where he was now when he'd once wished Dagmar would look at him the same way she looked at the city below.
"Can I ask you something serious?" Draco said.
"Mhm."
"Do you see us here?" Draco stood up straight. "After we finish school, I mean. I think there's a sentimental value for us both at this point, and since there's a hospital and dragon reserve. . ."
Dagmar's grin widened while Draco spoke. "I would love to live here again."
"If we're already planning on living abroad, we might as well aim for somewhere we're mostly familiar with," Draco said. "We won't feel so homesick or out of our element. Plus, you already speak the language. I'd rather learn at least some of it ahead of time than get it all thrown at me first day on the job."
"It definitely makes the most sense." Dagmar moved close enough for their arms to press. "We'll just have to focus more when we're back in lessons. If we're aiming for somewhere in particular, that adds a bit more pressure. I felt it when I was trying to make sure I got in at St. Mungo's."
"Yeah."
That much was true, and Draco was nervous enough already to make the minimum required grades. The grades that he'd been told to aim for by Professor Snape during career advice were the global average minimum, too. For all Draco knew, the requirements were higher in Norway since Norwegian Ridgebacks were so dangerous to work with. He was almost scared to look at what would be needed to snag a novice apprentice position at Jotunheimen.
Dagmar rested her cheek against Draco's upper arm. "I believe you're capable of it. We'll make it happen if it's what you want."
She was right about pressure. Draco really didn't want to disappoint Dagmar. He almost regretted putting it out there, for as happy as it made her that would be matched by its polar opposite if Draco didn't get his act together. That was not how he wanted to start the rest of their lives out, by cheating Dagmar out of living in her favourite city in the world.
Dagmar wasn't thinking about that, judging by her maintained good mood. For now, Draco wouldn't ruin her birthday by either rescinding his offer or focusing on that pressure he himself had introduced to their future. He was capable of this if he applied himself. Draco just had to remember that. Tomorrow, he would start working toward it. Today, he would make sure Dagmar continued to enjoy herself and relax.
Draco's stomach felt a lot less full by the time they rode the funicular back down the mountain. He really hadn't wanted to walk another thirty minutes from there back to the inn feeling like he did. A vague stitch still developed in his side about halfway. If it hadn't been downhill, he wasn't sure he'd manage without having to rest.
He was still relieved when they passed through a mostly-quiet Trollmannsgaten to reach the inn. Habit from the week they'd spent there in July slowed Draco's step in the lobby.
"Did you want to grab a drink before we turn in?" he asked.
Dagmar shook her head and then jerked it toward the stairs, smiling deviously. "Come on."
What she clearly intended was the only thing Draco had felt missing from the day. It had taken so much self-control that afternoon not to fall into each other before they even left Britain, and now that sense of deprivation was beginning to reemerge in Draco. His patience depleted as soon as she looked at him with intent, and it only got worse when she glanced back over her shoulder on the landing. Draco's hands shook slightly as he let them into their room.
Dagmar was much calmer in comparison. She headed for the end of the bed to sit so that she could pull her shoes off. Draco kicked his off as a second thought.
With one of her feet outstretched, Dagmar chuckled. "I'm just realizing the toll today took on me. I'm so dirty and sweaty."
"Me too."
Dagmar rejoined Draco where he stood, her arms snaking around his middle while they kissed.
"The bathtub is big enough for two," she said. "What do you think?"
Draco's first thought was that it offered the perfect opportunity to see Dagmar completely naked. He'd hoped for that sooner than later, so how could he possibly say no? The prospect made it hard to suppress a grin, especially when Dagmar's hands ventured up the back of his shirt. His heart skipped a beat when she returned his grin, their torsos pressing before their noses touched again. Gooseflesh followed where Dagmar lightly scratched the small of Draco's back. Not that he expected it at all today, but the idea of her nails digging in. . .
This was probably Draco's biggest dilemma when it came to the discrepancy in their experience. He would love nothing more than to sink into Dagmar. Draco could practically feel the press of their naked bodies, he wanted it so bad.
He needed to take a moment in order to step back away from that. Dagmar chuckled as Draco's forehead rested on her shoulder. She kissed his temple.
"All right?" she asked.
"No."
One of Dagmar's hands left his back so that she could run her fingers through his hair. "You poor thing."
Dagmar's natural scent grew stronger when Draco closed his eyes, especially so close to her neck. It drew him in toward the sensitive skin there. If he was going to be so overwhelmed by such simple touches and the barest hint of intent, then it only suited Dagmar to match him. The way she sighed was the sweetest form of revenge he could possibly offer in this sort of situation.
A fabric belt secured Dagmar's dress at the narrowest point of her waist. Draco tugged it loose, paying close attention to her reaction. Feeling as he did, it would be too easy to miss a cue that Dagmar was uncomfortable with being undressed. She pressed in closer to him, which could probably go either way on its own, but her hands still wandered his back and her breath warmed Draco's shoulder. Dagmar pulled away far enough to meet his gaze again. With a coquettish grin, she pulled his shirt up and off.
Loosening the belt on Dagmar's dress had also loosened the dress around her shoulders. It fell easily to the floor with little prompt. The tips of Dagmar's fingers slipped into the waist of Draco's pants, one of her thumbs running over his belt buckle. She stilled as Draco did something similar underneath the back of her bra. For all Dagmar's forwardness, she pressed back up against Draco as it joined her dress by their feet. Draco was all right with that. With her bare chest pressed against his, he could handle not getting a good look at her right away.
Dagmar fumbled with Draco's belt. Kissing again distracted her from the finesse of it. More so, that Draco's touch wandered steadily closer to her chest from where he held her waist. Dagmar's hands stopped and a gap returned between their lips as he cupped one of her breasts. It fit nicely in his hand, pleasantly heavy. Dagmar chuckled, cheeks warm.
"I'm a simple man," Draco jested.
"Something like that."
Dagmar gave herself enough room between them to actually see what she was doing with Draco's pants. While her gaze was downward, so was Draco's.
"I can feel you staring," Dagmar said without looking up.
"I'll stop if you like."
She chuckled, meeting Draco's gaze briefly as she finally got his pants to a point where they could join the rest of their shed clothes. Dagmar's fingers skimmed down Draco's arms to hook loosely with their counterparts. She led him to the bathroom. Yet again, Draco's eye dropped as Dagmar bent over to run the taps and fix the temperature. He thought about whether or not Dagmar would take to being touched while in such a position, then shrugged it off and went for it. That she just laughed again as he groped her backside confirmed to Draco that he was definitely getting better at telling where Dagmar's boundaries laid without having to overthink it.
Dagmar turned around in his arms when she stood straight again. She was somehow less shy about her body in the well-lit bathroom compared to the more dim bedroom. Her giggles echoed off the walls as they touched each other, tapering off in place of a fresh grin as she placed Draco's hands encouragingly on her breasts.
The taps running in the background were almost forgotten until Draco glimpsed the water level approaching the overflow. Dagmar turned them off, and Draco wondered if there was even a point to trying to hide that all their touching had left him turned on. Most likely Dagmar would consider it a compliment to the effect she had on him, much like it fed Draco's ego to see a blush creep from her cheeks down to her chest. Her nipples stayed hard, or at least returned to that state whenever Draco caressed them anew. He still thought it too crass just to run his fingers down between her legs in interest of seeing how wet she was. His mouth dried regardless when Dagmar slipped her knickers off. There was indeed a damp spot on them. It almost seemed a shame to sacrifice that to the bath, for surely it would be washed away with the rest of the day's accumulations.
Dagmar stepped into the tub and took a seat on one end. She pulled her knees up to her chest to make room for Draco. After he settled, she laid her legs across the length of his and sunk down to her chin. Draco scratched lightly at her nearest calf under the surface.
"I could get used to this," Draco said. "I honestly never want this summer to end."
"Me neither." Dagmar sighed. "That's what I hate about my birthday. It's so close to the end that the last few weeks until term starts feel like the longest Sunday."
"Mine comes like a Friday." Draco chuckled. "Although I guess that probably won't ever happen again. Summers don't mean anything as an adult."
"Nope."
Dagmar leaned her head back and closed her eyes. A wave of affection came over Draco.
"There's a temptation just to skip it all," he told Dagmar. "Just forget about going back to Hogwarts and having to go through all the stress of NEWT year. We could just stay here, buy a house, and live off our part of each family's fortune."
"Even if I know I could never consciously do it, it's a nice thought," Dagmar replied. "I just want it to be over. I want to start our life, especially if we do manage to wind up in Bergen."
"It could be bearable if. . ." Draco trailed off, for the discussion about how they would handle their relationship at school had never really gone anywhere. Every time it returned to the forefront of Draco's mind, it hurt a little bit more that Dagmar would choose her public image over him. Logically he understood, but emotionally he just couldn't.
"I know." Dagmar cracked an eye. "I wish we could. It's going to be hard enough to start sleeping apart again, let alone pretending we have nothing to do with each other."
Draco sighed. He could already feel the loss of Dagmar's body beside him. That most likely meant Heimdall too. Draco would be all alone again, especially if he ended up on no good terms with anyone in his dorm.
"I never told Pansy about you," he said. "As far as she knows, you had nothing to do with me ending things. So if, say, I ended up chasing after you, she might not get suspicious."
"She'd still be mad, though." Dagmar idly massaged Draco's foot, a welcome feeling after he'd spent so much of his day walking around. "It's not going to matter how we came together. She's going to be possessive and she's going to take it out on me."
Lips pursed with dissatisfaction, Draco nodded.
"I never told Blaise about you, either," Dagmar said. "He knows I'm still betrothed to somebody, but we never got far enough in the conversation before it derailed for your name to come up. If we make it too obvious, he might figure it out."
"Would that necessarily be a bad thing?" Draco asked. "I mean, would it go with him like Pansy?"
"You might know better than me." Dagmar shrugged. "I never really got all that close to him."
"I don't think he'd tell Pansy," Draco thought aloud. "It could go either way with us being mates. If he's over it by now, he might not care. If he had a clue what he's missing out on, he might."
Dagmar smiled warmly, her touch briefly running up Draco's calf before returning to where she pressed her thumbs into the arch of his foot.
Her expression flickered with concern. "I hope he isn't a problem. We focus so much on Pansy that dealing with Blaise has already blindsided me once. I didn't think he'd react the way he did when we met up in Diagon Alley. I guess we'll just have to play it by ear, like with everything else."
Draco was at least hoping that, even if it'd be one-sided, he could've looked forward to chasing Dagmar around at Hogwarts. That way, Pansy couldn't blame Dagmar for who Draco's eye fell onto next. Dagmar's friends in other houses would have time to adjust to the idea of them as a couple before Draco and Dagmar cautiously eased their private and public lives together.
"I wonder if it's worth just telling Blaise," Draco said. "Being up-front about it, I mean. For the sake of my friendship with him, I think he'd appreciate it. He'd be pissed in the long-run if I lied to him about something like this."
"What if he's mad at me, though?" Dagmar's brow wrinkled again with concern. "It would be pretty easy for him to pull Pansy aside and tell her what happened."
"He's not really like that. . .I don't think." Draco couldn't say for certain. "I've never seen him broken up with."
Dagmar made a noise of frustration and sunk further into the tub. "This sucks. There's so much thought that has to go into it, and then we still have to pull it off. I'm almost tempted just to throw caution to the wind. Ja, maybe Pansy will torment me, but she might just do that anyway because she'll be more miserable than usual. My friends might all ditch me, but they might cut contact anyway once we move away together at the end of the year. If Potter thinks you're a Death Eater, he might think I am too, but it doesn't matter because we're not. Blaise could just think and feel whatever he wants about the whole thing."
Draco knew better than to let his hopes climb too much about actually doing that. Sure enough, Dagmar heaved a fresh sigh.
"It just doesn't work, though," she continued. "My family is on the radar enough as it is. I don't want to be the tipping point that puts my parents in danger. I've come close enough to that already."
"Is it really your fault if they get caught?" Draco asked. "I have to think like that with my father to not go mental about it. It was his choice to be a Death Eater before I was even born. He's made his bed, and I don't think he'd have worked his way to be so close to the Dark Lord if he wasn't willing to sacrifice everything and anything for him."
"Even you?"
Draco opened his mouth to reply, but wasn't exactly sure what to say. So far in his life he'd had a buffer between himself and the Dark Lord, but look at what had happened to Crabbe and Goyle's fathers after they tipped the Ministry off about Ramstad Manor. They were loyal followers. What chance would Draco have as the mere son of one?
"I guess we have no choice but to play it safe," Draco said.
Dagmar shook her head, agreeing with him. The bathroom fell quiet under the weight of such a heavy cloud. It would always follow them around. Draco wondered if Bergen was even far enough to escape it once they were out on their own.
"We'll manage," Dagmar reassured him. "We will. It might be tough at times, but it's only a year. Then we can leave and none of it will matter. We won't be in a position anymore to compromise our parents. We'll be off everybody's radar. We can just live our life."
Draco managed a tight smile. "I hope so."
Dagmar readjusted on her end of the tub to sit up, then crawled up over Draco in order to kiss him. A gentler contact helped ease him a bit, at least enough for the tension in Draco's shoulders to melt away. He tucked some loose hair behind Dagmar's ear when she pulled back.
"I didn't mean to bring the mood down," she said. "I think to some degree we're always going to have to worry about what happens. Tonight I'd rather just get a feel for what our life is going to be like."
"Me too."
Draco guided Dagmar closer with a finger under her chin. He couldn't wait to be free of everything they had to deal with in the meantime. Although he wished they could have each other fully in the interim, they would just have to make do. Just because they couldn't openly affiliate at Hogwarts didn't mean they couldn't at all. They would find ways.
Dagmar sat down on Draco's lap, straddling him. That she did so when they were both naked invoked an involuntary groan from Draco. He grabbed her hips when she shifted against him.
"Sorry," she said with a chuckle. "Are you ready to get out?"
She backed off before standing up. While Draco had calmed considerably as they bathed together, it all came rushing back to him as she stood naked in front of him. For her to cover up with a towel was an absolute shame. Draco could hardly focus on getting the one she handed him around his waist, more preoccupied as he was with how soon he could get Dagmar's back off.
She beat him to it beside the bed, keeping her back to Draco as she dried off. Draco ran his hands up over Dagmar's still-wet backside, smiling as she chuckled at his keenness. He just couldn't help it now that Dagmar grew comfortable enough to trust him. And yet, Draco still felt like he was holding himself back. That would frustrate him to the point of anxiety if he couldn't pull her against him in fear she'd feel his arousal. Dagmar pressed back as Draco's hands roamed her torso, focusing mostly on her stomach while occasionally wandering up over her breasts. With his mouth fixed in the crook of Dagmar's neck, his fingers ran down over the small paunch of fat at her lower stomach. Dagmar's spine straightened as if with a jolt when Draco slipped them between her legs.
He pressed a kiss to the shell of her ear. "Lay down."
Draco's heart pounded a little and he suddenly knew exactly how Dagmar had felt through everything before this. There remained some things that Draco had never done. Pansy was just too uptight, or she at least wasn't comfortable enough beyond a certain degree of intimacy. She was fine giving—just not receiving.
Crawling up onto the bed between Dagmar's legs altered the mood into dubious territory. She stiffened when Draco's erection grazed her inner thigh. With a hand on his shoulder, Dagmar studied him.
"Don't worry," Draco reassured her. "I'm not trying to sneak anything in."
Her features softened. "I didn't think you would. There's still just things I'm not used to feeling. I wondered a little what you were angling for, laying like this."
"Going down on you, actually."
Dagmar blinked, then a slow smile came over her as her fingertips skimmed over Draco's shoulders.
"You look nervous. . .or something," she added. "Usually that's all me."
"Never done it before." Draco shrugged. "It can't be that hard to figure out, but you know what it's like when you're doing something new."
"Don't I ever."
Draco snorted and she giggled, which helped break the uncertainty that had cropped up between them. He only ever wanted to make Dagmar feel good, and it had said in the book his father gave him that this was one of the quickest and easiest ways to physically accomplish that.
He felt more confident, and Dagmar seemed to as well now that she knew what was on his mind. She probably liked not being the only vulnerable one, for once. The anticipation certainly didn't hurt. Dagmar arched her back as Draco licked, sucked, and otherwise nuzzled her breasts. He supposed in a way it was foreshadowing. There was an analogy in the book that going down on a woman was just advanced snogging. Draco had plenty of practice at that, and he liked to think he was good at it.
Even now, Dagmar inhaled sharply if Draco changed up what he did without notice. She squeezed his hand as he ran his tongue down her stomach, stopping briefly at her navel to come back up. She groaned into his mouth, her eyes glassy and nails pressing into Draco's shoulders. All concern about his erection poking her seemed to be lost. Dagmar's soft inner thighs felt simply divine against Draco's sides.
Draco kept going when he reached Dagmar's navel again. He felt the anticipation as much as she did, positively throbbing at the prospect. Draco didn't even trust himself to take the edge off his own tension. He wouldn't be able to stop once he started.
Any shyness Dagmar came into this with had long dissipated by the time Draco nuzzled her thighs. It was no wonder. Her flesh glistened with need. Caressing through with his fingers created another muted gasp further up the bed. When Draco circled his thumb on her clit, a tight hand closed around his free one where it held her hip.
He ran a flat tongue over her labia, trying to get a gauge for just how sensitive everything down here was. Dagmar's grip on Draco's hand tightened. Were it not paired with the sight of her gently heaving breasts, Draco might have wondered if she meant for him to stop or that he was doing something she didn't really like. She squirmed slightly under him as he repeated what he'd done, making it more deliberate each time. The taste of her filled Draco's mouth, as sweet as her scent. He nearly moaned with her as he gently sucked on her clit the way he might her bottom lip.
Draco didn't have to worry at all about Dagmar not being clear on what she liked or didn't like. He nearly lost feeling in his hand from how tightly she gripped it and her hips started to move too. Draco's arousal beat like a drum against his very soul when she asked him to finger her a little bit. She didn't tense up at all when he slipped one in, and was eager to catch a rhythm when he pressed up against the spongy knot inside her. Her fingers ran haphazardly through Draco's hair as she trembled.
Dagmar gasped his name as her pelvic floor tightened and contracted. When she pushed Draco's head away rather than hold it in place, Dagmar laid as a spent mess on the bed. Her chest heaved anew, her eyes were half-closed, and her lips remained parted.
Draco kissed her stomach and left breast on the way back up her body. He dropped down beside her heavily, exhausted in his own way from the experience. The muscles in his mouth were pushed to their limit.
Dagmar rolled onto her side to face him. The slightest modicum of relief finally came to Draco as her hand gently closed around him. He was a little surprised that she didn't seem too put off kissing him.
She studied him when they broke apart, then smiled. "I think I taste better on your lips."
"What do you mean?"
"Oh, you never tasted yourself out of curiosity?"
Draco chuckled. "Well—okay, yeah, but there are few if any circumstances I'd admit that outside of this one."
Dagmar laughed and kissed him again. Toward the end of it, she pushed Draco to lay flat on his back. "I want to try."
Draco didn't really know how much longer he could stand feeling like this. The last time they'd fooled around, he'd had the luxury of already having orgasmed prior. Not so today, and he wished he could've had more time to watch and enjoy Dagmar figuring out how to reciprocate. Along with her mouth, stray curly hairs tickled Draco's abdomen. He had to suppress a pitiful whine as she kissed down the underside of his shaft.
"You won't have long," he warned Dagmar.
"I didn't think so." She stroked him. "It's okay. There's always next time."
Maybe if this instance of having a head between his legs wasn't so different, Draco could've managed to draw himself out. Somebody new—not to mention someone that he cared so deeply about—made it next to impossible. Dagmar was perhaps overly cautious still as she learned the line where pleasure turned to discomfort, but it practically devastated Draco when she looked up at him as he ran his fingers back through her hair. That was something he'd focused too much for when their positions were switched. As hot as it was for Draco, he'd like to be seen in the same light as Dagmar.
He about lost it when precum strung from the head to the tip of Dagmar's tongue. She seemed to realize before Draco could even tap her shoulder in warning, for she stayed clear while falling into a familiar stroking rhythm. Draco's mouth fell open soundlessly as her tongue caressed one of his balls.
Because Dagmar wasn't paying as close of attention as she could've been, most of Draco's cum hit his stomach and chest. He thought he couldn't get any worse off post-orgasm but it still managed to penetrate Draco's foggy mind that Dagmar swirled her tongue over one of the medium sized droplets.
"It doesn't taste bad," she said when she laid beside him again.
Draco gestured weakly at the bedside table. "Would you pass me a tissue?"
Dagmar fetched one and took it upon herself to wipe him up. Draco could hardly make his lips cooperate as she kissed him again.
With a sigh, Dagmar laid her head on Draco's shoulder. "I never would've guessed that was your first time doing that if you didn't say anything."
"I had some help," Draco said.
Only when Dagmar didn't reply right away did Draco rethink what he'd said. He'd intended to show Dagmar soon the book his father had given him, but he didn't mean to bring it up like this. Really, he probably should've showed her before they had any kind of sex at all in hindsight.
"What kind of help?" she asked. At least for now, Dagmar just seemed curious.
"A book." Draco shrugged. "My father gave it to me at the beginning of summer. Spared him giving me any lectures, I suppose."
Dagmar hummed. "Didn't realize I came with an instruction manual."
"It's not like that." Draco's heart sunk. He really didn't want to have an argument about it right now when they were both still a bit wrecked. "You're welcome to read it, if you like."
"Okay."
She didn't seem mad, although not entirely happy either. Draco continued stroking her hair in wait of where she landed between those two polarities. He wasn't sure it was a good thing that Dagmar got up and headed for her bag. She at least returned to the bed after pulling on some fresh knickers and a loose shirt, joining Draco under the covers.
"My gut instinct is to trust you, but I'm not totally sure," she said. "I'll see how I feel after reading it. I don't like even the merest suggestion I was somehow manipulated. Now that I think about it, I did notice in the beginning that you weren't at all what I expected you to be like. Is that why?"
"I guess." Draco figured that honesty would be the best policy now, for he was comfortable with the notion that he'd only been genuine with her. Reading the book had been insightful, not particularly educational. "It was all just information I thought I should've had years earlier. We can talk more about it once you read it, but I realized there were a lot of mistakes I'd made with Pansy that I didn't want to repeat if I could help it. I don't think I would've taken it as seriously either, if my father talked to me instead on what's all in it."
Dagmar managed a small smile at that notion, although it faded quite quickly.
She must have realized there wasn't much point dwelling on it until she was well enough versed in the issue. Draco understood where she was coming from. They'd meshed really well together, but if Draco was getting instructions whispered in his ear on how to make that happen, it might undermine that.
The difference was big to Draco. The advice was meant to last a lifetime, not just until Dagmar was attached. Hopefully she saw it the same way.
