Chapter 31: Kings Cross

Draco puttered away in his room, getting everything into his trunk that he meant to take with him tomorrow. Since Dagmar wasn't back, he double-checked his packing. He moved his Firebolt from the corner by the balcony door to lay on top of his trunk. Draco wouldn't forget it, but it was something to do to kill the time.

He wound up laying on the bed where Dagmar had been, idly petting Heimdall. What could his father have wanted that was taking so long? With a sigh, Draco got up and left his room. He headed down the foyer stairs, expecting to find them in the library or something. Since it was empty, Draco headed deeper into the manor. He almost walked past the silent great room when he spotted his father out the corner of his eye. He slowly paced by the fireplace, arms crossed and his gaze on the nearest clock.

"Where's Dagmar?" Draco asked.

His father's head snapped in Draco's direction. He quickly resumed a passive expression. "She should be along shortly."

"She was supposed to be with you." Draco grew leery. "Where is she? What's she doing?"

The answer occurred to him on its own. Panic shot through Draco as he advanced on his father. "She's in there with him, isn't she?"

"Draco," his father replied in that airy tone Draco had come to hate, for he despised being talked down to like a child. "Go back upstairs."

The consequences be damned. Draco took a hard right toward the drawing room, dodging his father's swinging reach. He doubled his speed when his father came right behind him.

"Draco!" he raised his voice. "Don't you dare go in there!"

Draco didn't actually expect the door to be unlocked. That was good though, because if he wasn't able to duck inside of the room he was sure his father would've grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt. Draco's relief was short-lived, for he had no idea what he would actually do once he was here. Tell the Dark Lord to sod off? Stand beside Dagmar as she got whatever the Dark Lord had summoned her here for?

None of it, it would seem. The room was empty.

"Where are they?" Draco asked.

His father couldn't answer his question. He looked around, just as unsure as Draco. Draco's confusion quickly turned to anger.

"You mean you brought her here with no idea of what he planned to do?" Draco snapped at him. "They could be a thousand miles from here. She could be hurt, or worse."

"Don't be so dramatic." His father sneered. "He would do nothing of the sort to her."

"Says who? You?" Draco shot back. "Just because you don't have enough of a backbone to stand up to him doesn't mean that—"

Draco heard himself grunt more than he was aware of actually doing it. Splitting pain started near his left eye. He clenched it shut. Stars erupted behind the lid as he clutched his face.

His father kept his cane aloft. "You would do best to hold your tongue. What would you know about the Dark Lord? Dagmar's a child of some of his most loyal followers. You can't imagine the sacrifices they've made to him. And you dare think he would betray them like that?"

"That's not fair." Draco's eye watered incessantly. "I don't know anything at all, and I never want to. You expect me to trust you? You didn't know he was taking Dagmar anywhere either. You just won't admit it because you don't want to be wrong when I'm right."

"It's time for you to go." Draco's father clamped a tight hand on his upper arm and pulled him toward the door. "If you think I've done you wrong, then you wouldn't care in the least to find out what little mercy the Dark Lord may show."

Draco resisted, attempting to pull himself free, but it didn't matter. The atmosphere in the room turned stuffy and unbearable. Draco's father stopped trying to remove him, his wide gaze fixed at the centre of the room. Although he knew exactly who stood there, Draco couldn't help it. He looked too.

At first, he couldn't comprehend what he was seeing. There was a broad, low lump on the floor. Part of it rose, and as it did, Draco saw a pale face underneath the hood. Deja vu deepened his terror, for he'd seen something like this before in the Forbidden Forest. Instead of a unicorn this time, the Dark Lord stooped over. . .

The Dark Lord disapparated, Draco's father quickly after him. The loss in grip on Draco's arm put him off his balance and he stumbled sideways. He quickly corrected himself and dashed toward Dagmar's still form, nauseous with fear and his heart beating out of his chest.

"No, no, no. . ." he whispered to himself. Draco dropped onto his knees beside Dagmar and pulled her shoulder back onto his thighs. She was soaking wet, as if she'd been dropped into a lake. Her hair turned brown from all the mud in it. Her eyes were half-open.

Draco splayed a trembling hand over her chest. That it still moved up and down took the edge off his dread. "Rennervate."

Dagmar's pupils darted before she blinked. She tried to push herself upright, but faltered on a grimace.

"Hey, it's okay," Draco reassured her, although he knew it certainly wasn't. "It's okay. Just relax. He's gone."

"Draco." Her relief was as much in her voice as her expression. "Where are we?"

"My manor. The drawing room." Draco looked her over. "Are you hurt? Can you stand?"

"Everything hurts." Dagmar eased herself up into a sitting position anyway. "Nothing's broken, I don't think."

Draco's pants were damp where Dagmar had laid across them. Droplets of water hit the floor as he helped her to her feet. Draco put an arm around her waist to help her along.

How much time did they have before the Dark Lord and Draco's father returned? They could come anytime, and regardless of what Dagmar had just gone through, Draco cocked up royally. He'd denounced the Dark Lord to his father as well as directly disobeyed him. His splitting headache made it hard to think, but it was clear what they had to do.

Draco steadied Dagmar on her feet when they reached his room. "We need to leave."

"Now?" Dagmar asked.

"Yes, now." Draco dipped into his closet. "Here's some dry clothes. Get changed, and then we need to think about where we're going to go until tomorrow."

Although Dagmar shivered from cold, she still looked forlornly at Draco's clothes.

"Dagmar, please," Draco said. "Just do it."

"I'm still going to be covered in mud."

"We'll figure that out."

Draco grabbed his wand off the bedside table. A cleaning spell when Dagmar stood naked took care of most of it, spare a couple patches. Her hair fell flat without a proper washing, but it was at least the right colour and dry again.

Dagmar shrunk in Draco's tee shirt and sweatpants. Draco couldn't believe after the day they'd had that this was where it wound up.

Her expression fell as they looked at each other. "What happened to your face?"

"It's nothing," Draco said. "Now, where could we go?"

The train to Hogwarts wouldn't leave for another fifteen hours. That wasn't much time to hide out, and yet it might as well be a week. Draco wasn't used at all to the idea that he had nowhere to go. He didn't know anywhere in London that they could stay other than the Leaky Cauldron, and it would most likely be full the night before students departed.

"We could just go to the platform," Dagmar suggested. "If it's open, I mean. If we can get to Diagon Alley, we could try apparating in from there."

"If not. . .I guess the Muggles could put up with us in the other part of the station." Draco loathed to say it. "Get your things. Let's go."

The two of them levitated their trunks, with Ulysses in his cage on top of Draco's and Heimdall in his basket on top of Dagmar's. Thankfully, their animals were quiet and the manor was still empty. Draco wiped his eyes furtively as he took the head. He would have at least liked a proper goodbye with his mother before he went back to school and with how things were now, he had no idea when or maybe even if he would see her again. A lump rose in his throat. That was all he'd let himself feel of it for the moment. Draco needed to ensure that he and Dagmar were safe first.

"You go first," Draco told her. "I'll see you in London."

Dagmar nodded and passed him by. She disappeared in the emerald flames. They turned briefly orange again before Draco threw more floo powder in. He hesitated, looking around the great room. Just like with his mother, he didn't know if he would ever see the manor again.

Draco stepped out into London's Grand Floo Junction. He wished he and Dagmar were seeing it again under better circumstances. Draco slipped a hand into Dagmar's. He focused his mind completely on the train platform and exhaled in relief when that was where they stood after opening his eyes again.

The scarlet engine sat silent, as it probably had since they'd come back from Hogwarts in June. Draco and Dagmar were the only people around, or so Draco thought. As they approached the train to see if any of the doors were unlocked, one slid open.

The witch that usually ran the trolley looked down at them with soft eyes. "Nowhere else to go?"

"Er. . ." Draco wasn't sure how to answer, too proud to confirm her assumption.

"There's always a couple." The witch smiled. "Bad home, no home, no money. . .you name it. Come on aboard. Would you like some tea?"

"Maybe in a little while."

Draco was more concerned right now with getting situated. He sincerely hoped that Death Eaters wouldn't be stupid enough to come looking for them here. Then again. . .their parents might. Draco supposed if they did, it wasn't as if any of them could do anything. They couldn't drag them off without it looking suspicious. They couldn't force Draco and Dagmar to do anything anymore.

He chose a compartment for them on the station side. If their parents came, he wanted to see them. He and Dagmar might have a chance to hide with a heads up. Draco also closed the compartment's blinds.

Dagmar took a seat next to the window. Leaned back limply, she stared at the opposite wall with a long face and vacant gaze. She looked about as shocked by tonight's events as Draco felt.

He sat down next to her, unsure what even to say. His fingers twitched when something brushed against them, but it was just Dagmar's. Draco entwined them together, squeezing tightly when they were properly fit. He brought the back of Dagmar's hand to his lips to press a kiss to it.

"Can I ask what happened?" he hesitantly said.

"I don't really want to talk about it." Dagmar's eyes shone even in the minimal light coming in from the platform. "What about you?"

"Father," Draco bit out before his shame could overrule it.

"He hit you?"

Draco's gaze falling to his lap seemed to be enough confirmation for Dagmar. She turned more to face him on the bench, reaching out for his face. Draco tried not to grimace as she gently ran her thumb over where his eye started to swell. It hurt more to see how she looked at him.

"Herregud, Draco," she whispered. "What are we going to do?"

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "Right now, getting to Hogwarts is the only thing I'm worried about."

"One thing at a time, I guess."

Draco nodded. There was no point thinking past tonight just yet. If they could make it to eleven o'clock tomorrow morning, they would have until at least June to figure things out.

A sudden thought occurred to Draco. He opened up his trunk and rifled around in the hold for the documents he'd packed. One of them was his Gringotts slip from when his parents had opened up his inheritance account back in June.

He sighed in relief after reading it over. "My name's the only one on here. What about yours?"

Dagmar checked, then nodded. "We might never get another deposit, but that's okay. We'll be fine. We always planned to do it all without their help anyway."

Despite their situation, Draco was glad it was their situation, not something he was facing alone. That made him feel marginally better. So long as they made it to Hogwarts, they could figure this all out. They had the resources. They had each other.

A knock came at the compartment door a short while later. Draco opened the door tentatively, then exhaled in relief when it was just the trolley witch.

"How about that tea?" she asked. "I also brought by some sweets and an ice pack. I hope that wasn't too presumptuous."

Draco's attempt to smile ended with pressed lips, but the sentiment was there. "Thanks."

Dagmar set her tea aside as soon as Draco handed it to her. She took the ice pack and gestured him closer. It felt nice against his eye.

"Did you want to try and get some sleep?" she asked.

"I was going to ask you the same," Draco replied. "I don't think I'll be sleeping much tonight."

"Me neither." Dagmar worked her lips in thought. "We should still try."

"One of us should stay awake."

Dagmar was fading faster by the time they finished their tea and had managed a couple pumpkin pastries each. She laid her head on Draco's shoulder. Each reply of hers came slower and quieter than the last.

"Why don't you lie down?" Draco suggested.

He grabbed his school jumper and robe out of his trunk so that Dagmar could use them as a pillow and blanket. She curled up under his robe, her nose nuzzled up against his abdomen, and only opened her eyes again when Heimdall crawled over her hip to make himself comfortable between her lap and the back of the bench. Her breathing soon evened out—Draco liked to think that his fingers running gently through her hair helped.

With Dagmar and Heimdall asleep, as well as Ulysses in his cage, Draco let out a long sigh and gazed out the window to watch the platform for any signs of activity. It would be a long night.


Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed! It's been fun sharing this. I have a sequel in the works, although I'm not sure when exactly it'll be posted. I like to finish a fic before posting. I'm suspecting close to summer 2020.

I'll be uploading a preview from the sequel shortly, separate to this.