Chapter 20: Slytherin Pride
Dagmar was bursting at the seams when the Hogwarts Express returned on Sunday to tell her friends that Heimdall had been found. Milly looked relieved by it and Daphne gave her a hug.
"That's wonderful!" she said as she relinquished Dagmar in the Entrance Hall. "Is he okay?"
"He will be." Dagmar could say it with some degree of certainty now that Hagrid had established a care routine that seemed to work. "He needs to regain some weight and get his metabolism back to normal. His fur is starting to grow back in. His eye, though. . ."
"What about it?" Daphne hesitantly prompted her.
"He went blind in one." Dagmar still struggled with it. "It's not something that can heal."
"Aw, that's so sad. But at least he's alive, right? I wasn't sure we'd be seeing him again, to tell you the truth."
"Me neither." Dagmar pressed her lips together. "He can live half-blind. Not much you can do when you're dead."
"That's for sure."
They all sat down at the Slytherin table for the welcome-back feast. Neither Dagmar or Draco had much to share about their holidays other than what was going on with Heimdall, and Draco filled Luca in on the scale rot situation with the firedrakes.
"Feel bad I missed that, honestly," Luca said. "I would've liked to help."
Dagmar leaned forward to see past Draco. "What'd you do for the holidays? Go back to Romania?"
"Da, went and visited my grandparents." Luca smiled. "I missed them. It takes a long time for letters to get here. Granted, not as long as to and from Durmstrang."
"And your dad?" Draco asked before his eyes widened a bit. He coughed on his turkey. "Sorry—I just realized you've never mentioned one."
"Don't have one but don't worry, it's not what you think," Luca brightly replied, filling his fork with mashed potatoes. "Mamă adopted me by herself."
"I didn't realize you were adopted," Theo said on the opposite side of the table.
"Da, when she retired."
"Oh well." Draco shrugged. "Family's family, I guess. Right?"
Dagmar pressed more up against Draco's side, endeared by the sentiment. She certainly felt that way about him, and after being away from their friends for a couple weeks realized that they too were starting to feel like a batch of siblings she'd never had the luxury of before.
Harry sat on the opposite side of the Great Hall. He'd positioned himself on purpose to be able to see through gaps in the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students to where Malfoy and Ramstad sat.
Kingsley had come by Grimmauld Place the previous evening with a decent chunk of information on Ramstad's family. The manor in Berkshire had been purchased by her great-grandfather, Anders Ramstad, in 1940. He ended up not moving with his wife and kids right away because around the same time the Second Muggle World War spread to where they lived in Oslo. Anders stayed behind to help the rest of the wizarding community undermine the invading armies, for which he'd earned an Order of Merlin and its equivalent in Norway after the war ended.
He'd died in 1970, just when Voldemort started making himself known in Britain. His son Johannes inherited the property, whose name poked Dumbledore's memory as someone they'd anticipated would approach the Order to offer help considering his family's history, but he never did. He opted to stay out of it altogether, which had led to his isolation from the greater British wizarding community. It didn't help that his kids didn't attend Hogwarts. They had all stayed in Norway after completing their education until Erik moved back when Johannes passed away in 1990.
Harry was at a loss how in three generations a family went from fighting Nazis to swearing loyalty to Voldemort. Hildegard and Erik didn't even want to be there. Harry had noticed it first, and so had everyone else later on as they visited the memory in the pensieve.
"Maybe they didn't have a choice," Hermione had suggested.
"Like how it's always been join or die?" Ron asked.
"Or they have history with this Norheim too."
If that was true, Harry was happy they as a group committed to getting to the bottom of it. If Norheim had something Voldemort wanted that similarly affected the Ramstads, they could be incredibly valuable in turning the tide of the war. Norheim had to be important. Other than trying for and subsequently losing the prophecy, Voldemort hadn't seemed to spare a single thought toward Harry. The only exception would be if whatever Norheim possessed could also turn the tide for Voldemort.
This wasn't like the prophecy. The Order knew then what Voldemort sought, even if they hadn't told Harry. Nobody knew about this. Harry had been present the very first time any of them heard Norheim's name. If Voldemort had been searching for him for several years already, he had an unnerving head start.
Harry wished he could be doing like Kingsley and Dumbledore in actively seeking answers outside this castle. Instead, Harry was stuck organizing all the homework he'd done over the holidays and looking forward to finishing up the last little bit that he hadn't. McGonagall's at least wasn't due until Wednesday.
Heading down to the greenhouses Monday morning made Harry feel like the holidays hadn't even happened. He humoured Hermione after she finished Arithmancy in the afternoon by accompanying her to the library. They had a fresh mound of homework from Professor Sprout and Professor Flitwick, which Hermione had the luxury of getting started on while Harry was still stuck on Transfiguration. It didn't help that they ended up seated where should Harry look up, he could see Ramstad through the open doors leading into study hall.
Hermione eventually noticed he wasn't working. "Are you stuck on something?"
"No." Harry's gaze dropped back to his parchment. He'd been working on this particular essay for so long that it started to fray at the edges from being over-handled. "Just trying to get inside her head."
Hermione looked over her shoulder. Ramstad chatted with Padma Patil about something. Study hall had a Silencing Charm cast over it to avoid the noise spilling into the library, so there was no hope of knowing what they talked about if it was even important.
"Me too." Hermione sighed. "I wish I'd known before I talked to her out in the Forbidden Forest. I would've definitely approached her differently. I don't think it's a far leap to say she's ashamed of her parents. Considering her family's history in opposing purity-obsessed armies, it would've been for her like if, say, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley decided to switch sides when You-Know-Who came back a few years ago. You don't expect it to happen and when it does it doesn't make any sense."
"Unless something is forcing them," Harry replied. "I wonder if Ramstad knows what that might be."
"I wouldn't have high hopes of being able to ask her outright." The heel of Hermione's hand dug into her cheek as she carried on with her Herbology homework. "I will if the right time comes up, but she's still mad about how we left off before the holidays. She wouldn't even look at me when I said hello."
"That's too bad."
Harry didn't have any access to Malfoy either. Even if Harry wanted to talk to him after the Gryffindor-Slytherin Quidditch fiasco, Malfoy was just as unhappy about how it all turned out.
Tuesday morning, Harry took a seat next to Ron in Defence. His dread reemerged as Parasca greeted them all. "Good morning, and welcome back. I hope you had a relaxing break. We'll find out now just how relaxing it was, if you all managed to sufficiently clear your minds before bed each night. Today we'll be starting Occlumency and Legilimency.
"Occlumency is the act of protecting yourself against Legilimency, which is the ability to peer into someone's mind." Parasca idly walked down the aisle. "It is not normally something that would be taught in a classroom setting beyond theory, at least as far as your NEWT examination is concerned. However, I believe—and the Headmaster agrees—that it is a valuable skill to leave Hogwarts with. Voldemort himself is an accomplished Legilimens, as are many of his Death Eaters.
"I'll have you all pair up with somebody that will be your partner for this unit," Parasca continued. "Mr. Potter and Ms. Ramstad, if I could have a word."
The rest of the class went serious after mention of Voldemort's name, but came back around in order to make low 'oooooh' noises as Harry headed up to Parasca's desk. He glanced at Ramstad as she came from the other side of the room, but he might as well have been invisible for all the attention she paid him in return.
"I was informed by Professor Snape that both of you have received private lessons from him on this." Professor Parasca used the din of the class as cover for telling them that. "Since you're both familiar with the concepts, I would prefer to see you two pair up."
"Okay," Harry said.
Ramstad just nodded. Professor Parasca left to check on everyone else's progress toward finding a partner. Harry turned awkward as Ramstad finally looked at him, her brow low and lips pursed. He cleared his throat. "Er, did you want to come sit by me then, or. . .?"
"Sure."
Harry returned to Ron. "Parasca wants me to pair up with Ramstad."
Ron's shoulders slumped. "Damn, Hermione's already gone with Neville. That leaves. . ." his voice dropped to a whisper, "Fuck."
Malfoy didn't look pleased either. He sat with his arms crossed, glowering at Ron as he crossed the classroom. Harry shifted his gaze forward as Ramstad took Ron's old seat.
Professor Parasca continued speaking once everyone had settled. "Occlumency is a difficult skill to obtain. It requires a great deal of mental fortitude, similar to resisting something like the Imperius Curse. A noisy mind is a vulnerable mind. Legilimency is markedly easier. Repeat after me: legilimens!"
The class said it back in tandem, then again when Parasca wasn't entirely satisfied. After that, she asked them to pull out their wands. "Decide between you and your partner who will be attempting Legilimency and who will be performing Occlumency. There is no wand movement for the Legilimency spell—you merely need to point it at the target while speaking the incantation."
Ramstad seemed to have accepted her and Harry's lot for this class. She wasn't as sullen when Harry turned his chair to face her. Her gaze was still shrewd.
"What would you rather?" she asked. "I'm quite practiced at Occlumency. What about you?"
"Er. . ." Harry felt his cheeks grow warm. "Honestly, not really. I did private lessons with Snape during fifth year, but I didn't take much from it. I know all the theory, just not. . .yeah."
"So would you rather I started with Legilimency?"
Harry's insides ran cold as a thought occurred to him. He'd never much managed to protect his mind against that kind of penetration, and what else—who else had dominated his thoughts more than Ramstad lately? Harry wished he could go back to doing this with Ron. Surely Ramstad would rather practice with Malfoy.
"I guess," Harry had no other choice but to say. "Just give me a minute."
He lowered his head. What could Harry possibly accomplish right here and now that he hadn't in the last two years of knowing Occlumency's basic tenets? What choice did Harry have not to? If Ramstad didn't take well Hermione mentioning mere rumours about her family, how would she handle Harry knowing for sure that her parents were in Voldemort's service?
"Okay." Harry looked at her again. "I'm ready to try."
She nodded and lifted her wand. "Legilimens."
As if he viewed them through the filter of a dream, images popped up in Harry's mind. The first was from when Malfoy had confronted him in the Entrance Hall about complaining to Madam Hooch, his pointed features rounded with indignation. Dumbledore flashed through next, standing at the front of the Great Hall Sunday evening as he welcomed everyone back from their Christmas holidays. An old Quidditch practice from earlier this season appeared. There was still green grass below, the sun high in the sky.
The spell wore off. Ramstad appeared again in front of Harry.
"Confirm with your partner what you saw," Parasca was saying. "You'll notice that basic Legilimency doesn't offer much an opportunity to delve too deeply."
"I saw Draco," Ramstad told Harry. "Dumbledore, then. . .Quidditch, was it?"
"Practice."
Ramstad nodded. "Did you want to try?"
"Sure." Harry felt a bit better about it. "Ready?"
"Whenever you are."
Harry pointed his wand at her. "Legilimens."
Nothing happened. Ramstad blinked at him, then smirked when Harry tried again to no avail. "Would you like me to ease off a bit to give you a honest shot?"
Harry fended back a twinge of annoyance. While Ramstad's confidence about her abilities was on par with Hermione, she tended toward a familiar arrogance. No wonder Malfoy liked her so much.
"If you wouldn't mind," Harry stiffly replied.
He tried it again. Ramstad's eyes shifted out of focus just before images started flashing in Harry's mind similar to when their positions were switched. He saw Ramstad's cat sitting up on a windowsill, its fluffy tail swishing as it looked outside. There was some kind of room full with lots of tall adults dressed up nicely. Erik Ramstad flashed through last, smoking a pipe with a furrowed brow while reading a book on his lap.
Ramstad scrunched her eyes together in discomfort at the spell's end.
"I saw your cat," Harry said. "Er, a party from when you were younger, maybe? Then a man smoking."
"My dad," Ramstad quietly confirmed.
They went back and forth like that. Harry was beginning to see now what Snape meant when he tried to differentiate this from mind-reading. There wasn't a whole lot to take from the snippets he saw of Ramstad's life because he wasn't familiar with it. He didn't have the full context to give everything meaning, unlike when it was glimpses of his life shared between them. Not all of them even had meaning. There were plenty from Harry's life that were just humdrum moments: doing homework in Gryffindor Tower, looking out the train window at the passing landscape, and walking down toward the lake. Those ones he didn't even know particularly when they'd happened, so how would somebody else?
Hermione was already brainstorming about the homework assignment as she, Harry, and Ron headed for the dungeons after the bell rang. "It would be a useful spell as an Auror if you wanted to interrogate someone you don't think is being entirely honest. You would have to be quite proficient. I imagine once you do it's more feasible to poke around and see what you want to see, rather than glimpses of gardens and stuff like that. That's not very useful."
"Not so loud, 'Mione." Ron rubbed his temple. "I need a moment of peace before we get to Potions."
Harry laughed while Hermione sniffed disapprovingly.
"Did you two see anything useful then?" she asked.
"Not sure," Harry replied. "A lot of it was nonsense to me. I recognized people and some places, but not all of it. Even then, yeah, just glimpses. Bits of Hogwarts, flashes of people like you or Malfoy or her parents."
"Same here," Ron said. "I wonder if Parasca will actually give us the opportunity in class to become better at Legilimency, or if she only means for us to stick to the basics so that we can focus on Occlumency."
"Hard to know if we're getting better at Occlumency, isn't it, if the Legilimency isn't getting harder to fight off?" Harry asked.
"Potter," a familiar oily voice came from behind them as they passed Snape's office.
Harry glanced back as the three of them stopped walking. He sighed to himself. "Meet you in class."
Ron and Hermione carried on while Harry doubled back. Snape closed his office door once Harry was inside. Harry braced himself with his hand tight on his bag strap, unsure what to expect. He hadn't even had a chance yet to hand in his homework from over the holiday so he hadn't earned a horrible grade on it.
Snape folded his arms. "You began learning Occlumency with Professor Parasca today?"
"Yes."
"Did she pair you with Ms. Ramstad?"
Harry nodded.
"I hinted to Professor Parasca that you two would be ahead of the class." Snape's upper lip curled, as if it legitimately hurt him to even imply he complimented Harry's skill. "Since she used that information, you should turn the situation into something useful for the Order. Ms. Ramstad may lower her guard in a classroom setting."
"Right."
"Do be careful, though," Snape drawled. "Without years of successful practice like she's had, I sincerely doubt you'll manage to see much before she would shut you out completely. Make it count."
"Okay."
Snape gestured at his office door, dismissing Harry. He left as quickly as he could and ended up stuck behind a wall of the four Slytherins in his Potions class. Nott was regaling Malfoy, Ramstad, and Zabini with a tale about his drunk uncle at Christmas, to much amusement.
Harry was happy to remain invisible behind them until he could cut to the back of the class where he usually sat. Unfortunately, Ernie had beat Harry there so he couldn't pass along what Snape had said until after they'd been released for lunch (with yet another three feet of homework to boot).
"Snape said I should be practicing Legilimency as much as Occlumency, basically," Harry recounted to Ron and Hermione. "I could use it to try and poke around Ramstad."
"I ought to do the same, I guess," Ron said. "Malfoy might have something to give up."
"You'd better act quick," Hermione told him. "Malfoy will be practicing Occlumency with Dagmar. He'll catch on fast."
"He already has," Ron glumly replied. "He was toying with me in class, trying to make me think I couldn't cast the Legilimency spell."
"Well, if Snape thinks I have a shot on getting into Ramstad's mind after she's been doing this since third year, you have a shot too," Harry said. "Just have to make it count, like Snape said."
Milly chewed thoughtfully on the herring fillet Dagmar had given her while the two of them and Daphne sat up in their dorm. "You know, it's not bad at all. It kind of reminds me of pickles or sauerkraut, except with fish."
"That's all it is," Dagmar said. "Daphne, you wanted to try?"
"Hit me."
Dagmar levitated another fillet out of the jar and set it on a napkin for Daphne. She popped it confidently into her mouth whole before a gag brought it right back out. Milly cracked with laughter, Dagmar rapidly joining in.
"I'm sorry, that's disgusting," Daphne said. "Oh my god."
Dagmar wiped her eyes. They leaked from the force of her now-sore guts. "That's my culture you're spitting out, you know."
"I wanted to like it! I really did."
"It's okay." Dagmar returned to her bed, content to have the remainder of her herring to herself. She fetched another fillet out of the jar. "Heimr hates it too, and he was born there."
Dagmar pet him with her free hand. Thanks to Hagrid's help over the past couple weeks, Heimdall had managed to regain a couple of the ten pounds he'd lost while trapped in the cabinet. He was well enough to come up to the castle for the weekend, provided Dagmar fed him right before bed and then again first thing in the morning. She needed to bring Heimdall down to Hagrid's cabin before lunch to get checked up on.
"I won't tease him with it to show you, but he gags like that," Dagmar chuckled before switching to Norwegian. "Fussy boy."
Heimdall made a noise in his throat and briefly closed his eyes. His left one had gone milky. Other than brittle nails and his coat still recovering, Heimdall was otherwise coming along nicely. He almost had enough strength now to jump up onto Dagmar's bed without help.
Movement in the corner of Dagmar's gaze pulled her attention away from Heimdall and to the dorm's door. Pansy stood there, coming to a halt before fully entering. She was still hesitant before sitting down on her bed. Dagmar shared an uncertain glance with Daphne when Pansy didn't shut her curtain in attempt to ignore them.
Pansy looked around. "What're you guys up to?"
Dagmar shrugged along with Milly and Daphne. "Not a whole lot. Just winding down before bed."
"Did you need something?" Milly asked.
"Not really." Pansy toed the floor. Something pressed up against Dagmar's bum. She glanced behind her to see that Heimdall had wormed his way in under the blanket. "Kinda. . .I dunno. It's been a while since we hung out."
"I can't really remember why." Milly folded her fingers behind her head. "Maybe give us a bit of a refresher?"
Pansy frowned. "Are you really going to make me apologize?"
"Well, you're not going to walk in here and start pretending that nothing ever happened," Milly replied. "We've been doing just fine without you. Thought you had new friends anyway over in Gryffindor?"
"You don't have to rub it in." Pansy stood up to slide her curtain shut. "Screw you."
Milly shrugged when Dagmar looked at her. "Seems I touched a nerve."
Daphne didn't look so certain about all Milly had said to her. She pressed her lips briefly. "Pansy?"
"What?" she tersely replied.
"Why did you come up here? Really?"
"I thought maybe after all these years we were still friends," she snipped. "You guys sounded like you were having fun anyway. Guess it was just because I wasn't here. I can leave if you like."
"It's your space too," Daphne quietly conceded.
Dagmar didn't really know what to think about Pansy trying to slink her way back in. It made her nervous because when Pansy, Daphne, and Milly used to be closer it was at Dagmar's expense. She wanted to believe that things wouldn't go back that way, but the memory of how they all used to treat her wasn't very far in the past.
"We can talk about it if you like, but you're going to have to hear some hard truths," Milly warned her. "I'm speaking for all of us when I say you've left a bad taste in our mouths. You used to treat me like your ugly friend that made you feel better. If I showed any kind of skill at anything you would cut me right down. The Quidditch thing was the last straw. You always called Daphne a bimbo behind her back. I don't think I even have to get started on everything you've done to make Dagmar's life miserable."
Rustling sounded from behind Pansy's curtain before she threw it back open. Her face was blotchy with anger.
"What's the matter?" Pansy shot at Dagmar before looking at Daphne. "You two can't speak for yourselves?"
Daphne's eyes widened when put on the spot. She shrugged, playing with the corner of her blanket. "I don't really know what to say."
Dagmar felt like she had a lot to say, and yet she had no idea how to sum it all up beyond, "We were never friends and I don't think we ever will be. I really don't like you and I certainly don't trust you."
"I guess that's that then." Pansy nearly choked on her words. Dagmar couldn't tell if it was because she was sad or mad. "Oh well, I got what was coming to me, right? I lost everything this year. I've got nothing."
"I'd feel sorry for you if you weren't such a bitch," Milly said.
That prompted Pansy to close her curtain again. The room grew quickly awkward. Dagmar didn't feel like she could speak openly to Milly and Daphne when Pansy was there, and it didn't help at all that muffled sniffling and crying came from Pansy's bed.
"I think I'm going to tuck in," Dagmar said as the three of them shared an uncertain look.
"Yeah, me too," Daphne quietly replied while Milly nodded.
Dagmar closed her curtain and was halfway into bed when she remembered she needed to feed Heimdall first. She brought out some of the meat currently kept cool in her Alltid-Kaldt canister and heated it briefly on a small saucer.
"Heimr," she tried to draw him out with a trill in his name. It usually worked, but he remained a lump under the blanket. "Heimr, come on, little boy. Aren't you hungry?"
He still didn't budge. Frowning, Dagmar pushed back the blankets. He tried to burrow deeper.
"Why're you hiding?" she whispered to him. "Come."
Dagmar reached under the cover after Heimdall. She froze when her hand found him. He was trembling like a leaf in autumn wind.
"What's the matter?" she asked. Heimdall didn't have anywhere to go once he reached the end of the bed. He crowded the edge, his good eye as dilated as his bad one when Dagmar peered in. "Why're you acting like this?"
Realization washed down over Dagmar like hot molasses, leaving heat in her cheeks before it managed to hit her heart and stomach. Heimdall had crawled in under the covers when Pansy came back to the dorm. Although his behaviour had certainly changed after his close brush with death, this was too drastic for Dagmar to glean any meaning other than Heimdall was telling her who had put him in the cabinet.
Dagmar managed to smile through a complete departure of emotion while comforting him with a pet. "It's okay, little boy. She'll get what she deserves."