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 28: A Day at Home

Dagmar managed to fall asleep easily enough, but having something riding her subconscious returned her to full wakefulness when the sky was still dark.

She couldn't settle on whether or not she was concerned about Draco taking advice from some book conveniently handed off to him right at the beginning of their betrothal. Now that Dagmar thought about it, the change in Draco at that time had been sudden and drastic. Dagmar just thought Draco had been compelled to smarten up by his mother. After Draco told her about the change in arrangements, Dagmar had some pretty serious doubts that they could manage to make it work based on his prior behaviour.

Those doubts had faded away since, but now Dagmar wasn't sure. What would Draco have been like without this help? How much of their relationship's inception depended on him taking not from himself, but elsewhere? Did it even matter at this point?

It mattered to Dagmar in the sense that like Draco knowing about the betrothal when she didn't, they weren't on equal footing. Draco had an advantage that he kept from her. Dagmar was disappointed that he hadn't told her about it. Their entire relationship was based on honesty. It was a value she thought they shared.

On the other hand, Dagmar had to weigh heavily the outcome. What had Draco aimed to gain from following this book's advice? He'd told Dagmar that the initial reason he wanted this arranged marriage to work was because his mother asked him to try. Over time, Dagmar had developed her own theory, one that Draco didn't really seem capable of putting into words: he was impressionable to a fault, especially where his parents were involved. It bordered upon empathy in a very weird way, since he was subconsciously attuned to the moods and attitudes that surrounded him. He absorbed it all like a sponge. He emulated his parents' arrogance and general dissatisfaction. While he'd been with Pansy, her miserability had sharpened his established temperament. He craved acceptance from somewhere—anywhere.

Draco never really had the opportunity to pursue his own happiness. He'd treated his own dreams for life like they were something to be ashamed of. Since Dagmar herself lived how she wanted to regardless of what her parents thought, Draco probably saw the chance to do the same if he went with her.

It was a selfish decision, but Draco hadn't taken it selfishly. Never at any point did Dagmar feel like their relationship revolved around Draco and his wants and needs. Conversely, because of Dagmar's lacking experience, she had been in the driving seat all along. She was the one that decided they wouldn't have children. She made it a condition that Draco could never be a Death Eater. She'd set the romantic pace they moved at.

Dagmar had nearly every advantage in their relationship. How could she even say then that this book had given Draco one? Laying everything down like that, it looked to Dagmar more like it had just evened the playing field. Draco didn't have a choice but to follow any advice in it if he wanted the future they'd laid out for themselves. Dagmar wouldn't have been impressed—and she certainly wouldn't have been wooed—if Draco hadn't adjusted his attitude.

She also had to remember that she had her own motives for entering this relationship. Dagmar was unsatisfied too. Dagmar wanted someone that she clicked with, who was more passionate and present than Blaise.

And that, Draco was. He didn't really look it at the moment, but affection swelled up inside Dagmar all the same. Draco laid facing away from Dagmar, his shoulder rising and falling in the steady rhythm of sleep. Doing her absolute best not to wake him, Dagmar curled up against his back. She carefully laid an arm over his middle.

Draco's next inhale was long. Dagmar didn't want to hear that, for it most likely meant she'd interrupted his rest. She laid still, hoping that Draco would just drift back off. Something touched Dagmar's fingers, making her twitch, but she relaxed when Draco's hand came to rest on top of hers.

"Are you awake?" he whispered.

Dagmar kissed his shoulder. "Go back to sleep."

His hand remained on hers until his breathing evened back out. Dagmar nuzzled his upper back, ready to drift off herself. The next time she opened her eyes, daylight had appeared behind their room's curtains.

Dagmar would've liked to go downstairs for coffee before they left, but they slept a little too late for that. She was just as eager to get home, and yet dreaded it. The rest of the summer would pass like a blur now, and Dagmar experienced more frequently and with growing intensity waves of panic about how little she had prepared this summer for the coming NEWT year.

Draco was quiet as they got ready to go. He only really spoke when spoken to. A less-secure Dagmar would worry that it meant Draco knew he'd been busted doing something that completely undermined their relationship.

Dagmar wrapped her arms around his middle from behind while he zipped his bag. Like during the night, Draco ran a hand over hers. He was more reserved about it when fully awake.

"What's wrong?" Dagmar asked. "I hope you're not too worried about this thing with that book."

"I'm not really worried about what's in it," Draco replied, "just that I might have cocked up by not telling you about it sooner. My father suggested I don't, and now that just seems like stupid advice. I don't know why I didn't think about it for myself."

Dagmar figured she knew why.

"It's okay," she told him. "When I think about it, it doesn't worry me. It doesn't really matter what's in the book, just what you took from it. I trust you."

The muscles in Draco's upper back relaxed as he exhaled.

Guilt squirmed in Dagmar's gut. "I realize now I haven't said that a lot while we've been together. I've always kept you at some amount of distance."

"I don't hold it against you for not being very sure of me at the beginning." Draco turned around in her arms. "I always knew I was lucky you were willing to give me a chance."

"I'm really glad I did."

"Me too."

Smiling anew, Dagmar pulled Draco into a warm hug. She loved these kind that blanketed the two of them away from the rest of the world. Affection swelled within her as Draco nuzzled her shoulder, his arms tightening around her middle. He'd never explicitly said so, but Dagmar got the sense that he'd missed out on a lot of tenderness in his life. Although Mrs. Malfoy treated him that way, it was practically an expectation of one's mother. It didn't really count beyond a certain age.

The stress from only having two weeks until they returned to school squeezed Dagmar's heart again. She had no idea what would come of her and Draco. They could only plan for so much, and as someone that liked to have some sort of structure in place, it was really hard for Dagmar to accept something open-ended.

She couldn't see how she'd stand being apart from Draco at all in the minimal time they had left, but it came sooner than expected. They'd only just settled into Draco's room back at Malfoy Manor, Dagmar seated on his bed with a purring Heimdall, when a knock came at the door.

"Yeah?" Draco asked.

"Oh, so I did hear you return." It was his mother. "Is Dagmar in there?"

Draco looked at Dagmar with a raised eyebrow. She matched his confusion with a shrug, just relieved that they hadn't been caught or interrupted during a more intimate moment.

Dagmar smiled when Draco opened the door. "Hei, Mrs. Malfoy."

"Hello, my dear." She didn't move far into the room. "Your mum asked if I could send you along home if you didn't make it there on your own. She wanted to see you before dinner tonight."

"Oh." That disappointed Dagmar. "Okay."

"I'd also like to speak to you before you head out," she said. "Are you going by floo? I could just wait downstairs."

"I can." Dagmar would've rather Apparated now that she could, but that was fine. "I'll just get my things together and I'll be right down."

Draco crossed his arms once his mum left, his lips bunched to one side. "Well, that sucks."

"Ja." Dagmar moved Heimdall off her lap with a sigh. "I wonder what my mum wants. I wonder what yours wants."

"Hard to say." Draco pulled her into a new hug. "I guess I'll see you at dinner."

"Mhm." Dagmar kissed his cheek. "Did you want to stay over, after?"

"Sure."

Dagmar kissed him again, smiling afterward. "Why don't you give me your overnight bag and some clothes? I'll take them for you now, then you don't have to think about them later."

She had enough room in her bag. While Dagmar zipped it back up on the edge of Draco's bed, she paused.

"I'd still like to read that book, if you don't mind," she told Draco. "I'm just curious, and it seems like a good way to burn away the afternoon."

Draco opened the drawer on his bedside table. It was much smaller than Dagmar expected. She put it in her bag all the same.

"See you tonight," she bid him.

After another hug and some further affection, Dagmar peeled herself away. She missed Draco already as she and Heimdall stepped out into the hallway and headed for the foyer stairs. Until Dagmar spotted Mrs. Malfoy sitting in the great room, she had almost forgotten that she wanted to see her.

"Ah, there you are." Mrs. Malfoy's long blonde hair shifted in the light as she stood up. "I wanted to give you your birthday gift from Lucius and I before tonight so that you'd be able to coordinate an outfit with it if you so chose."

Dagmar concealed her discomfort about receiving what was most likely an expensive gift when she took the black jewelry box from Mrs. Malfoy. Sure enough, her eyes widened as several precious stones glittered back from where they'd been set into a bracelet.

"Oh, wow," she breathed. "I don't know what to say besides thank you."

"You don't have to say anything other than that." Mrs. Malfoy beamed. "It's once in a lifetime a young lady comes of-age, and you're the closest thing to a daughter Lucius and I will ever have. It seemed the perfect occasion to spoil you a little."

Because so much of Dagmar's focus in joining the Malfoy family landed on Draco, she hadn't really come yet to see his parents as a future second pair of her own. Mr. Malfoy was so aloof anyway, and Mrs. Malfoy gave Dagmar and Draco plenty of space this summer to sort things out between them. That they welcomed her like that—accepted her—touched Dagmar. She had no idea how to put that into words either, which Mrs. Malfoy seemed to understand. She brought Dagmar into a short but tight hug.

"We'll see you tonight," Mrs. Malfoy said afterward.

"And thank you again, I mean it." Dagmar grinned. "I'm glad you gave me the opportunity to wear it for dinner."

Dagmar had to stop in front of the fireplace to adjust herself for travel. She carefully placed the bracelet box in her bag on top of Draco's overnight things. Stooped over like that, her eyes grew heavy. It didn't stop when she stood straight again, but at least it was a good feeling.

"All right, come on, you." Dagmar picked up Heimdall with a grunt of effort as he went dead-weight in protest. As unhappy he was at the prospect of traveling by floo, Dagmar couldn't help but be tickled by the thought of how much he would hate it if she Apparated with him instead.

He curled up against her, his nails dug in, as they traversed the short distance separating Malfoy and Ramstad Manor. Heimdall hit the great room floor with a grunt of his own. His tail quivered.

Feeling in a good mood, Dagmar ran her hand down the length of his back and up his tail. "Want a treat? Let's see what's in the kitchen."

Heimdall's feet pattered along the floor beside her. The house elves made a ruckus preparing various dishes for the evening, but still fell over themselves to find something fitting for both Dagmar and Heimdall. Heimdall jumped up onto a seat at the island and watched the elves work with darting eyes and a swishing tail. Whenever one came close, he ducked down so that only his dilated pupils were visible over the island edge. He didn't react at all to Dagmar petting him.

"If you pounce on one, you won't get anything," Dagmar cooed at him.

She couldn't tell if he listened or not, but he ended up keeping his feet on the stool. He jumped down when Dagmar had a sandwich for herself and some extra shredded chicken on the side. Heimdall weaved through her feet on the way to the stairs, meowing. When Dagmar reached the top landing, the door of her parents' bedroom opened.

Dagmar's mum poked her head out. "Do I hear a cat?"

"Oh, ja." Dagmar nudged Heimdall with her foot. "You must not have seen him day before yesterday. Draco got him for me for my birthday."

"That was nice of him," her mum commented. She squatted down nearby and wiggled her fingers in an attempt to entice Heimdall over. He made a noise in his throat before approaching her. "What beautiful colouring. Makes me miss Grim."

Dagmar smiled in remembrance. "Heimr is turning out to be quite the little character himself. He's more cuddly than Grim was, and that's saying something."

"'Heimr'?"

"Well, Heimdall."

Dagmar's mum scratched underneath Heimdall's chin while he purred away. Dagmar wanted to edge off into her room. She had no idea what her mum wanted to talk about, but now that Dagmar was of-age, she feared she might start feeling the pressure about joining or at least sympathizing with the Dark Lord.

She cleared her throat. "Mrs. Malfoy said you wanted me home for something?"

"Oh—ja." Her mum looked up. "I think your dad is in the drawing room. I'll go get him and be right back."

Dagmar's stomach twisted in apprehension. "Okay."

Her mum didn't seem sketchy or anything, which caused Dagmar pause when she stepped into her room. Then again, if it had something to do with the Death Eaters, would she want to tip Dagmar off before she could even say her piece?

If the time had come to denounce the Dark Lord, so be it. Dagmar had been dreading this for a while, and now that she was an adult, it could happen anytime.

Her appetite diminished a bit as she waited. Heimdall happily and ignorantly ate his chicken on the floor beside her desk while Dagmar just picked at pieces that poked out from her sandwich.

"Come in," she called when one of her parents knocked on her doors.

Neither of them seemed particularly serious, which filled Dagmar with tentative relief. She smiled when her dad grinned, standing to receive a hug. The smell of pipe tobacco clung to his clothes and hair.

"Happy birthday, jenta mi," he said with a scratchy kiss to her cheek. "I can't believe you're all grown up."

"I'll feel it more myself when I'm out of school," Dagmar replied.

"Well, for us it's about the same. Either way, you're leaving home." Eyes crinkled, Dagmar's dad rubbed her upper arms before affectionately squeezing them. "I suppose there'll always be the holidays."

"Of course."

Mrs. Malfoy's gift had moved Dagmar already to a more emotional place than she'd started the day off with. Getting a glimpse of what relationship with her parents she'd lost in the last two years didn't help to pull Dagmar back from it.

"We have your gift for you, anyway." Her father reached into a pocket of his cloak.

Dagmar accepted the envelope, tentativeness re-emerging at the prospect of something else expensive coming her way. She was right. One of the folded pieces of paper inside was a gift certificate to Lyng worth fifty romer.

"Herregud," Dagmar said to herself.

"It's your favourite shop," her mum said with a shrug and smile. "You'll find good use for it."

The other piece of paper in the envelope was less thick and off-white as opposed to a light rose colour. However, for how far Dagmar's jaw had dropped at having fifty romer to spend at Lyng, she wasn't prepared for the bottom line on this bank slip.

"We went to Gringotts yesterday," her father explained. "Now that you're of age, you're entitled to begin receiving your share of the family fortune."

"But. . ." Dagmar couldn't stop reading it over and over. "It's so much."

"That's just for the first year." Dagmar's father put an arm around her shoulders. "You'll have more costs than usual as you head out into the world. House, travel. . .whatever else you can think of. You'll only get half this amount every August from now on."

"Well. . .thank you," Dagmar forced herself enough out of her shock to say.

Her father winked. "We're confident that we raised you well enough to know the value of a galleon. You won't throw it away."

"Nei," Dagmar agreed.

Her parents left her then to absorb the fact that she had quite literally just become a rich person. Dagmar never considered herself that way before, for she had always mentally separated herself from her family's money. It was a resource there to be used if and when needed, but nothing more. A sliver of that now sat as a mound of gold underground at Gringotts, attached to Dagmar's name.

Dagmar headed over to the couch, where her bag still sat packed up from Draco's. She took her messenger back with her to the desk. Most likely Draco was busy with something else, too busy to look at his copy, but maybe not.

Words were waiting to be read on the first page when Dagmar opened it. She smiled, for Draco couldn't have written them all that long ago.

What did my mum want? he'd asked.

Dagmar dipped a quill to respond. She gave me a birthday gift from her and your father.

While she waited for Draco to respond, Dagmar tucked into her sandwich. Heimdall jumped up on the windowsill next to her to watch the birds outside. He made a noise in his throat when Dagmar scratched his back.

Draco had noticed her reply: What did they get you?

A really nice bracelet. I'll show you at dinner. Dagmar hesitated to send it off, adding more before doing so. She told me I'm the closest thing to a daughter she and your father will ever have. I won't lie, I may have teared up a little bit.

Aw.

Dagmar's sense of missing Draco swelled again now that the shock of so many luxurious gifts in a row had started to wear off. She wet her quill, intent to tell him about what her parents had given her, but then decided it was a better discussion to hold in-person. They'd be together again tonight.

With her lunch finished, Dagmar closed the messenger and headed back to her bag to pull out the book Draco had handed off. She lost steam on her way over to the bed with it. Dagmar pursed her lips in thought as she studied the worn, blank cover. Now that she had it in her hands and an afternoon to dedicate toward it, she didn't actually know if she cared enough to do so.

Dagmar's curiosity wasn't so much in the book itself, but Draco's opinion on the contents. She felt like she knew him enough to derive that, regardless of what the book said. If it was a bad book, he'd disagreed and taken from it that way. If it was a good one, Draco took it as intended.

There were other things Dagmar would prefer to do today. With only slight pain, she procrastinated further yet on studying for school by leaving her bedroom. Her parents were both home today in party and family mode as they prepared the garden for dinner, and it seemed like a good opportunity to actually spend some time with them.

They were out in the garden, but the planning part seemed to be over. While the house elves happily worked away setting up the table and various spells that would keep every insect and bird at bay, Dagmar's parents sat at a small table in the shade. They drank what looked similar to the berry soda Draco had ordered during dinner in Bergen, and were deep into a game of chess. About half of Dagmar's mother's pieces sat off to the side, and a third of her father's. She considered the board with pursed lips, Dagmar's father working to suppress a smile behind the rim of his glass.

"Well!" he exclaimed when he spotted Dagmar. "Look who it is."

She waved him off, grinning as well as she took one of the empty seats between her parents. One of the house elves came by shortly to see if they wanted more drinks. Dagmar took the opportunity to ask for one, which she casually sipped through her straw while trying to see what kind of strategy her parents were going for on the board. She hadn't played in so long, she would be surprised if she could actually pick them out.

"So what are your plans for the rest of the summer?" Dagmar's father asked with a glance in her direction.

"Studying," Dagmar flatly replied. "I haven't at all."

"That must mean you managed to do everything else you wanted to, ah?"

Dagmar nodded. "I'm vacationed out."

Her parents exchanged what might have been a significant glance. For a moment, Dagmar worried again that something—anything—to do with the Dark Lord might come up.

"You and Draco have been very private so far—" her mother began, which was fine. Dagmar would take being embarrassed by her parents over proselytized any day. "—but that's all going well, is it?"

"Mhm," Dagmar answered. "I like him quite a lot, which was a pleasant surprise. Didn't think I had it in me. Didn't think he had it in him to be likeable."

Her mum chuckled. "I was thinking after you and I spoke upstairs the other day that we probably should've had that conversation as more than an aside."

Dagmar wrinkled her nose. "I think I've got it figured out. We don't have to."

"Still," her mum maintained. "There are a lot of mistakes to be made at your age, and the least I can do is give you the run-down on how to avoid them."

"Oh, so you're saying I was an accident?"

Dagmar just grinned when her mother turned a deadpan expression on her.

"Nei," her mother said. "I very much intended to have you."

"Don't worry about me," Dagmar replied. "I don't mean to get pregnant. Madam Pomfrey gives out Natalise Potion at school."

"That's good." Her mother reached for a rook to move a few spaces. "In the meantime?"

Dagmar's cheeks warmed. "Herregud, Mum. I'm handling it. It's not really any of your business what Draco and I do."

"Okay, okay." Her mother chuckled. "I'm just making sure. I don't know why you'd be embarrassed anyway. Sex is just part of the human experience, and if you manage to have it with someone you're in love with, you're very lucky indeed."

Despite the fact that Dagmar's lower abdomen glowed warm, for she knew exactly what her mother meant, she still made retching noises as her parents made eyes at each other.

Her father pushed her shoulder, laughing. "Act your age."

After Dagmar's mother lost the game, Dagmar gave it a shot against her dad. She could tell her father went easy, more content to smoke his pipe than end the game sooner than was possible by Dagmar's lacking expertise. They only had time for one game before Dagmar pivoted toward getting ready for the Malfoys to arrive. She'd just started going through her choices for what to wear when her mum looked in on her. She wound up sitting on the end of Dagmar's bed with Heimdall, evaluating each of the dresses Dagmar changed into.

"Don't wear yellow," her mum said when Dagmar brought a layered sundress out. "That's what I'm wearing."

"Okay."

Dagmar enjoyed evaluating different potentials with her mum too much to expedite the process. She saved her top choice for last, a pale pink bodycon fit with lace at the bottom hem and its short sleeves.

"That one really accentuates your hips," her mum said.

"That good or bad?"

"Up to you. Just saying." Her mum shrugged with a smile. "You have nice hips. Any occasion to bring them out is a worthy one, in my opinion. Kill them all with curves."

Dagmar laughed. It was easy for her mum to say, because she had the exact same body type. Dagmar's hips on their own weren't specially-shaped, they only looked that way when paired with a small waist.

"Belt or no?" Dagmar asked.

Her mum hummed. "I think you could go without, with that one. Try one on anyway. Let's see."

Dagmar wasn't leaning toward it, but it was another excuse to spend this time with her mum. Spending the afternoon playing around in Dagmar's closet, then doing their makeup, hair, and nails together, left Dagmar happy yet melancholic. All over again, she couldn't understand why her parents had chosen following the Dark Lord over living a simpler life.

For the sake of enjoying this moment, Dagmar put her feelings away. There was no point ruining a good day with those thoughts. As summer came to an end, and with it the dregs of Dagmar's childhood, there would be plenty of time in the future to lament over it.

Shortly before five when the Malfoys were due to arrive, Dagmar completed her outfit with the jewelry she intended to wear. She had some rings and a necklace that went well with the bracelet Mrs. Malfoy had given her earlier. All in all, she was very happy with how she looked. She hoped that Draco thought the same. Dagmar couldn't wait to see him, herself. It wasn't often this summer they'd dressed for a more formal occasion, and he looked so smart when he did.

Dagmar joined her parents in the great room, where they waited. Her stomach filled with butterflies in anticipation, spiking when the fireplace turned emerald. Mr. Malfoy arrived first of course, greeting Dagmar's dad with a clap on the shoulder before kissing Dagmar's mum and then her on the cheeks. Narcissa arrived next, glowing in a pastel blue dress. She went down the line like her husband had, although stayed at Dagmar after they greeted each other. Her gaze softened as she looked at the bracelet.

"It suits you," she said.

"That was a gift?" Dagmar's mum piped up beside them. "I wondered if I'd never seen it before. You didn't tell me."

For the sake of politesse, Dagmar had to indulge the interest in her newest piece of jewelry. Of course she was just as enthusiastic about it, but when Draco arrived through the fireplace she was more interested in seeing him. He migrated toward their fathers, of which Dagmar's put an arm around his shoulders in greeting. Dagmar smiled at Draco, unable to escape for the moment. He couldn't really either, but at least when Dagmar's mum realized he was there and that she hadn't properly said hello, it made a path for Draco to Dagmar. Unfortunately, with their parents all there looking at them, they couldn't do much more than share a brief hug after Draco kissed Dagmar equally chastely on the cheek.

"Look at you," he whispered in her ear.

"Speak for yourself."

Even if it was slightly embarrassing with an audience, Dagmar couldn't resist cupping his jaw and running her thumb over his cheek. Her own face grew warm when she caught her mother's eye on their way out to the garden.

At the table set up by the house elves, Dagmar's dad took one end and her mother the other. Lucius and Narcissa sat beside each other on one side, leaving the other to Dagmar and Draco. Dagmar had been concerned that they wouldn't be able to sit together but now that they did, she saw the hidden value in being separated. She couldn't touch Draco the way she was normally used to, and anything that she'd like to talk to him about was better done in private.

One of the house elves came around to pour wine, another behind it with bread, and another behind that one with the butter. Dagmar helped herself to a roll. It was still warm enough from the oven that the butter she spread over it melted right away.

Across from Dagmar, Narcissa ran her nose over the rose-coloured drink. "Ooh, this is one of my favourites. Excellent choice."

Dagmar's hand brushed Draco's leg under the table. It was the exact same kind that he'd bought her for Christmas when they went to Nice. Her parents had come home with a couple bottles of the same that Dagmar asked to be served tonight.

The first meal course arrived shortly after, a plate full of various smørbrød bites. The acidic pickled herring and gravlax selections primed Dagmar's palate for the roast beef and chicken ones, which sharpened the flavour of the secondary ingredients in the blue cheese one. Pear and toasted hazelnuts didn't taste quite as good on their own.

Beet salad for the second course was followed by a main of beef wellington garnished with hollandaise-drizzled asparagus and brussel sprouts. When a slice of blotkake was set in front of Dagmar for dessert, she wasn't entirely sure how she would make it fit. She picked off the strawberries to eat while she figured it out.

Draco seemed to be of similar mind beside Dagmar. At least when it came to a multi-course meal in Scandinavian culture, it was expected that they linger at the table after all the food had been eaten. Their parents certainly showed no signs of moving along as the sun edged toward the treetops. By the time it properly set and the table relied solely on the various candles and torches around them to see each other, the cake had been reduced to crumbs and everyone had come to rely solely on their wine glasses for further nourishment.

Dagmar was more content to listen to her mother and Mrs. Malfoy chat rather than contribute. Draco did the same with their fathers. Every once in a while, Draco would reach over out of sight to run a hand over Dagmar's thigh or forearm. Eventually, perhaps once he had enough wine in him to no longer care, since that's what allowed Dagmar to similarly throw propriety to the wind, Draco just left his hand on her knee.

The stars twinkled above when the conversation started to slow down. Mr. Malfoy brushed some of Mrs. Malfoy's hair back off her shoulder. "Well?"

"Yes, the night's getting on. . ."

The material on Dagmar's dress was tight around her stomach when she stood up. She couldn't wait to get out of it and into something more comfortable, but she had to see Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy off in the great room first. She hugged Mrs. Malfoy goodbye easily, although hesitated before doing the same with Mr. Malfoy. Perhaps since his cheeks had gone pink from the wine, it wasn't as uncomfortable as Dagmar expected it to be.

"I suspect we'll see you around." He winked at Dagmar. "Happy birthday."

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy."

"Please, just Lucius. You're family."

Dagmar smiled warmly at him. "Okay."

Lucius and Narcissa stepped off toward the fireplace, then were gone in twin flashes of emerald fire. Dagmar's father extinguished the orange flames that followed with a wave of his wand and a loud yawn.

"Feels like bedtime," Dagmar's mother confirmed. "Good night, you two."

"Night."

Dagmar hugged her parents, Draco doing the same before she led him toward the foyer stairs. She hadn't thought she drank that much but now that she was up and moving around, Dagmar felt the alcohol's effect. She snorted when Draco tripped lightly on one of the stairs heading up. He joined in with her laughter, cheeks pink. Dagmar couldn't tell if the colour stemmed from embarrassment or just too much to drink.

Safe inside her room, Dagmar pulled Draco into a hug. "Finally. I've been so tired of only being able to look at you and not touch you."

"Same."

Dagmar groaned lightly into a kiss. She could taste the wine on Draco's lips. Maybe he hadn't paced himself as well as Dagmar tried, or just didn't eat enough bread to counteract the effects. That was too bad.

She began unbuttoning his shirt. When Dagmar reached his sternum with it, Draco put his hands overtop of hers. "Oh, I don't know about that."

"I don't think you'll want to sleep in these clothes," Dagmar replied.

"Just what are you after?"

"Nothing." Dagmar kissed his cheek. "I'm trying to put you to bed."

"Oh." Draco's grip relaxed. "All right, then."

He steadied himself instead on Dagmar's shoulders, falling quiet. It wasn't often that she saw Draco in a vulnerable place, and how quickly he jumped on her for something as simple as undressing him concerned her a little. It wouldn't have been a big deal at all, were he sober.

Tipsy herself, Dagmar probably overthought it. Draco let her carry on, following her to the edge of the bed so that she could help him out of his shoes, socks, and pants. Draco laid back after that with a hefty exhale, eyes closed.

"You should pee one more time," Dagmar told him.

"Oh. . .yeah."

Dagmar changed out of her dress over by her closet while Draco occupied the bathroom. She came over with his overnight bag. "Did you want to brush your teeth?"

"Bloody hell, the amount of things I have to do."

Dagmar snorted. "It's only one more thing. Then you can go wait for me in the bed."

While he did that over the sink, Dagmar pulled her hair out of the half-up bun she'd done for the evening. She hadn't worn much make up either, so it came off easily. The mascara stained her eyelashes, and her lips darkened a few shades back to their natural colour when she wiped them clean. She reached for the toothpaste on the counter in front of Draco, and caught his eye in the mirror. His adoring gaze was undermined by the white foam seeping out of his mouth.

Dagmar laughed again, although the humour of it was lost on Draco for the moment. He rinsed out his mouth while Dagmar brushed her teeth. Rather than head back into the room, Draco wrapped his arms around Dagmar's middle from behind and laid his head on her upper back.

"What a lucky bastard I am," he murmured behind her. "How did a prat like me ever wind up with a girl like you?"

Dagmar couldn't reply with her mouth full and busy. She ran her free hand affectionately over his forearms.

"I can't wait to spend the rest of our life together."

Dagmar rinsed out her mouth and reached for a towel. Draco made it difficult to move since he steadfastly hung onto her. Once she managed to pat her mouth and chin dry, she extracted herself from Draco's grip. "Come on, you. Bedtime."